#joel miller neighbor au

[pedrostylez]

Next Time

pairing: Joel Miller neighbor!au x fem!reader

summary: No outbreak, not canon in the slightest, Joel Miller as your neighbor growing up. You've returned home from grad school for winter break after your long-term boyfriend broke up with you

rating: 18+ (no minors please)

word count: 4.9k

warnings etc: No outbreak Joel, no Sarah, age gap (9 years) mentioned and defined, fluff, dirty talk, oral (f receiving), food consumed, semi-public? Chance of getting caught?

A/N: This is the prologue to "Don't" with not all of the background mentioned. I think this will end up being a 3 part? Idk, maybe 4 max. Anywho, be gentle with me.

It had been easy to find comfort in Joel. 

The rush of wind around your face made you shiver, once hot tears streaming down your face drying quickly and leaving behind a sting of cold. You huffed out a breath, running your wrist against your face to try and remove the wetness as more sprung from your eyes. It was pitiful how you were crying over this, but you had spent two years with him. 

Jason had met your family, your friends, your goddamn neighbor that you’ve had a crush on since he moved in, and he just…broke up with you. Let you help him pack up his car for winter break, let you get on your knees and give him a blow job, and then tell you that he wanted to take a break. That you were too much. 

You were too much, as far as you were concerned. Too clingy, too needy, too much of just about everything that Jason hated–

r u home 4 winter break? Or is ur car needing work?

Joel. 

You hadn’t even realized you pulled your phone out of your pocket on your trek to the hiking trail you used to sit at with your friends. Memories of asking Joel to pick you up and drop you off at the head of the trail so that your parents didn’t know you had snuck out flashed through your mind as you typed your response. 

At hiking trail rn

It wasn’t really an answer to his question, but it was all you were willing to give. You sat on a rock just barely out of the view of the gravel lot, wiping at your eyes again and sighing. You could sit here for a bit longer before having to explain to your mom why you were back in town. 

Joel frowned at the text you sent him, glancing up at your car again. He had just arrived home from a long day of work and felt something warm in his stomach at the site of your beat-up vehicle sitting in the driveway. The last time he spoke to you was over 6 months ago, when you and your boyfriend were visiting your mom, and Joel had helped change your oil. 

He always seemed to help you with your car, and he was positive he was the reason it was still running. From his first introduction to you at 17 years old, crying while your car smoked in your driveway, he had always been your go-to neighbor.

If you were at the hiking trail that was only a mile away from the neighborhood, you were upset. He had watched you enough times running from your back door while your dad yelled after you to know where you would go. 

He debated asking if you wanted to be alone but decided to hop back in his truck and head in that direction. He could walk himself, but the look of the sky told him you were going to be rained down on any minute and thought better of it. 

You heard the engine of Joel’s truck within five minutes and scoffed out loud. Of course he was here. You turned your head to watch the trail, listening to his boots hit the gravel, his sigh as he began walking right toward you. He couldn’t see you, but he knew well enough where you were. 

When Joel comes into eyesight you have to hold your breath, trying to not show how surprised you are by how he looks. How long has it been since you last saw him? The broadness of his chest, the way his shirt tightened around his arms as he crossed them–

“You’re a sight for sore eyes, darlin’.” He drawls, smirking at you. Does he have to do that? “It looks like it is going to rain. Figured you didn’t want to walk home in that.”

You snort out a laugh, glancing up to the sky while you unknowingly give Joel access to look at your neck and chest for longer than he normally would. “You’re right.” You look back over at him, his ears are red with what you think is annoyance, and try to act nonchalant. “How’s it going?”

He shrugs at you, moving his hands to his pockets before looking around and leaning against a nearby tree. “It’s about how it’s always been, sweetheart. You staying for the whole winter break or just visiting for the day?” 

You and Joel had always been straightforward with each other. It was easiest that way, with how passive your mom was and how aggressive your dad was. You knew that the first time Joel moved in and saw you panicking in your driveway over your car that he was going to always tell you like it was-no bullshit. It had developed into more of a one-sided pining, asking Joel for his number to help you with your car or to ask him for a ride if you needed it. But he had always agreed, helping you when he could and being a person for you to rely on. 

You take a deep breath to gather the courage to tell him. “I’m probably going to stay for the whole break. Don’t want to stay in the apartment all winter long.” 

“Why’s that?”

You pause, looking up at him and biting the inside of your lip to not cry. You didn’t see Joel’s eyes soften at the first hint of just how upset you were. “Jason….broke up with me.” 

He grunts, taking a step toward your place on the rock and crouching down in front of you. Your eyes widen in shock; he’s never been this close to you willingly. Under your car holding a light for him or next to him in his truck is just not the same. His hands reach forward, resting on your knees and giving you a squeeze before saying “Never liked him anyways darlin’. You’re too good for him.”

You feel your eyes well up with tears and try to blink them away, surprised again when Joel reaches forward and wipes at your cheek. What you were warring with bubbled over and out of your mouth before you could think about it. “It feels like I wasted two years of my life, Joel.”

He sighed, holding your face in his hands and you tilted into him subconsciously. He doesn’t know what else to say, or what to tell you, so he offers “Let’s go to the diner? I’ll get you French toast like how you used to get it.”

You smile softly, holding back a giggle as blood rushes to your cheeks. “Sure. I could go for that.”

Joel is watching you from the corner of his eye in his truck, and how on edge you truly are. You are hiding it well, but he knows you. Knows that you are still upset, still feeling like you wasted your life on Jason. He could murder that kid right now. 

The whole ride is quiet, the sound of rain splattering his windshield starts soon after he leaves the hiking trail, your soft puffs of breath fogging the window that you’re looking out of. He pulls into the diner, parking in the back of the lot, and turns to you before you can get out and grab your knee. He doesn’t know why he can’t keep his hands off you. 

“You didn’t waste your life, sweetheart.” He starts, wincing internally at how he can’t seem to hold back the pet names. “He’s just…he’s a boy–”

“We are both 25, Joel. I know that’s young but plenty of people get married before then–” You start to get riled up, face flushing red and tears brimming your eyes before you cover your face. You take a deep breath before speaking again. “Two years of my life I thought I was going to marry him and then he fucking tells me that I’m too much work! And that I’m too clingy!” 

“You’re not those things.” Joel grounds out, trying to keep from letting his anger show. The idea that someone who you loved would say those things to you made his blood boil. “Jason is a boy. He doesn't know what he really wants besides someone to do his laundry and cook his food.”

You lean back against the passenger seat and sigh, shaking your head and leaning against the window. You had been cooking meals for Jason, had done his laundry plenty of times, and thought nothing of it. You felt weak, ready to cry at any moment, and it made you feel pitiful. 

“Don’t let him affect you like that.” Joel pushes, frowning at you and squeezing your leg. When you look at him, his eyes soften with a tilt of his head. “The right guy will come along who doesn’t want to marry his mother. I know you took care of him more than you should have.”

Joel feels the heat from your leg seep through your jeans and into his hand, making his heart jump before he pulls his hand away. “Let’s go eat. I’ll take care of you today.”

Swooning wasn’t a sufficient word. 

I’ll take care of you today. 

Did Joel even know what he was saying to you? Did he understand that later you would lay in your bed and think of him while you slid your fingers through your folds? You’re doing your best to not look completely flustered, stumbling out of his vehicle and loping beside him to the front door of the diner. Your breath hitched in your throat when Joel guided you inside with his hand wrapping around your waist for an instant, forcing you to walk faster to keep up and stay out of the rain. 

You’re still thinking about what he said as the waitress brings two plates of French toast to your table, piled high with butter and maple syrup flowing over the sides and onto the table in tiny drops. Joel’s smile to you makes your heart skip, shoveling a piece of the breakfast food into your mouth to cover it up. 

Joel’s eyes stay glued to you, slurping on a freshly brewed cup of coffee. You take another bite of your French toast, cinnamon sugar swirled into the bread, sighing heavily when the melted butter hits your tongue. The warmth of the bread, and the sweetness of the maple syrup, give you enough confidence to ask. “Why didn’t you tell me you didn’t like Jason?”

Joel pauses his sipping, raising his eyebrows at you. He gives you a quick shrug before glancing at the table behind you. “Not my place.” He says quietly, looking down at his food and dragging a piece of his food through a sea of syrup. “You liked him, I wasn’t going to tell you otherwise.” 

You huff at that, giving him a look that tells him you want him to explain more. When he doesn’t, you set your fork down and cross your arms on the table. “I would have appreciated someone saying something.”

Joel grunts, not fully convinced as he takes the last bite of his French toast. “No, you wouldn’t have darlin’. I’m just your neighbor, and me pulling you aside to say that Jason wasn’t the one would have been a quick way to get my nose broken.” He laughs, looking up at you. 

You’re quiet, letting his laugh die out before mumbling. “You’re not…just my neighbor Joel.” His eyes widen briefly, your food forgotten as you stare at him. Debating on how to tell him you relied on him more than anyone, how he was a sanctuary in all your issues at home even though Joel knew very few details, you sigh out, “You’ve helped me in more ways than one and…you live next door but you’re more like–”

“Don’t say a brother,” Joel mumbles, raising his eyebrows at you jokingly. Deep in the back of his mind, he’s hoping that he hasn’t come across that way.  

“I wasn’t! You’re not.” You pause, laughing full-bellied. The idea is so ridiculous that you blurt out, “I wouldn’t have a crush on someone that I see like a brother–”

It feels like the world stops turning when you realize what has just left your mouth, looking up to Joel’s coughing, coffee sputtering out back into his cup. Your eyes widen in panic, watching him set his cup back down and red rush back to the tips of his ears. You would almost think he looks excited beyond the surprise, but you can’t dwell on it. 

It’s only a split second before you make the decision to book it out of the diner. You trip over your feet, pushing into the glass door and into the rain as you vaguely hear Joel calling your name. You don’t bother to turn back, regretting even saying anything at all. You should have just let Joel say he was only your neighbor and leave it at that. 

Tears are running down your face again, down the sidewalk and through someone's side yard to the trail that you know is there. You feel stupid and pitiful again, admitting to having a crush on your neighbor who is 9 years older than you while also having him console you over a long-term breakup. 

You quickly make the decision to cut through the hiking trail, back to the gravel lot where Joel had first picked you up, and then back to your house. Maybe you could even make it to your car before Joel realized where you went and you can drive back to campus because this is more embarrassing than coming home and crying about Jason.

Joel doesn’t know what to do watching you almost smack your face against the door handle as you rush out of the diner. He tries to call you back, feeling embarrassed for making you uncomfortable. He didn’t mean to start choking on his coffee when he heard you admit that you had a crush on him. Currently, have a crush on him? He wasn’t sure. Something in his gut wanted to find out desperately. 

He pulled his wallet out roughly to pay the bill, getting out of the booth and opening the door at the same time he sees you cut through someone's yard. “Shit!” He says out loud, striding quickly over to his truck and hopping in the driver’s seat. He had to beat you home, or at least stop you from whatever it was that you were going to do. 

Joel is tapping on his wheel as he drives up the road to the hiking trail when he sees you, drenched and running on the sidewalk heading in the opposite direction. You most certainly see him, eyes widening and freezing in place as if a scared animal and don’t know where to go. Joel pulls over, rolling his window down and leaning closer to the opening. “Why did you run off?” He says sharply, eyebrows furrowed together. 

He doesn’t mean to come off harsh but knows he has when you respond with. “I freaked out. I’m sorry-”

“Would you get in the truck?” He amends, reaching for the handle and opening it towards you as an invitation. He waits for you to make a decision, watching you closely to see if you will bolt again. “I’ll take you wherever you want to go.” He concedes, watching you take a deep breath before begrudgingly sliding into the vehicle and slamming the door shut behind you.  While you try to get ahold of yourself, wiping at your cheeks and flicking your hair behind your shoulder, Joel waits patiently. He can’t help but reach over and place his hand on your leg again, even when you tense up. “It’s alright.” 

You huff again, pulling your hand back into your lap. “I’m sorry.” You say quietly, glancing at his hand on your leg and shut your eyes tightly. “I didn’t mean to make it weird. I just meant that I used to have a crush on you. Like when I was 17, or something.”

Joel holds back his sigh, knowing that any type of response might set you off to run again. He hides the fact that his chest deflates at the idea that it was a teenage crush, rather than a current one. He reels himself in at the thought that he is actually disappointed, beating himself up mentally that he shouldn’t have hoped you still liked him-he’s convinced that he is too old for you. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you.” He mumbles, looking over at you. “You just surprised me. No harm.”

You nod quickly, looking down at your hands and at his on your knee. He gives you another squeeze to bring your attention back up to him. “For what it’s worth,” He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes before saying, “You’re beautiful, and I would be lucky for you to have a crush on me.” 

You stare at him in shock, waiting for him to take it back.

When he doesn’t, you find yourself leaning towards him and pressing your lips to his cheek lightly, testing the waters. You pull back just enough to watch his reaction, before leaning in again and moving your lips to his. 

He’s frozen for only an instant more before his fingers curl into the back of your hair, wet from the rain, and pulling your face towards his. You can’t believe this is happening, wondering if maybe you actually fell and hit your head on your way out of the diner, and this is just some coma-induced dream. 

It feels more real when Joel’s hand trails down from the back of your head to your neck, giving you a light squeeze and then pulling himself away from you. He’s breathing heavily, slowly removing his hands from you before pressing them to the steering wheel and blinking rapidly. 

He knows he shouldn’t have reciprocated. He knows he shouldn’t have said anything. He wonders if he should have just let you run home like you had planned. 

You’re wondering if he’s regretting what just happened between you as he puts the truck in gear and turns it around in the gravel lot just ahead, driving back to your neighborhood. Anxiety roils in your stomach as he pulls up to your house and puts the truck in park, not even looking at you as he waits for you to exit. 

You do just that, wondering how much more you will cry tonight when you slam the door behind you.

The next day, after you walked into your house and were bombarded by questions from your mom and dad, you’re debating even getting up. The bed is too small, but the blankets are warm and your pillow is comfortable, and the idea of having to explain in more detail before your parents go to work gives you the worst feeling. 

You glance out your window where the curtain has shifted, and notice that Joel’s truck is still in the driveway. You wonder vaguely if he has the day off from his job in construction when you hear a knock on your door. 

Your mom only knocks to give you a warning that she is coming in, your door yawning open as you huff out a small “What?”

“Just letting you know I’m heading to work and your dad is soon as well.” She says quietly, tapping her fingers against the door knob. “Do you have plans today?”

You roll your eyes before turning over to face her. “Wallow in self-pity and cry some more.” You say sarcastically, watching her shake her head at you in mild disgust. 

“Do the dishes, won’t you?” She says back, walking into the room to give you a kiss on the head before walking out and leaving the door open. 

You sigh heavily and wait another 30 minutes, listening to your dad groan to himself before leaving and locking the door behind him. You wonder vaguely if you have a spare key still hidden under the back step, and if you’ll be able to leave the house today. Maybe you could actually go on a hike. 

Motivation takes over you as you stand, stretching for a minute before finding clothes you would be comfortable in for the day. A simple walk may be all you need to move past Jason breaking your heart today. You don’t know what will push your shared kiss with Joel out of your brain. 

Joel is drinking the last bits of his coffee when he sees you step out your back door and check under a potted plant, nodding to yourself and walking away without so much as a glance toward his house. He had planned on not reaching out to you-let you figure out what you wanted and then pretend that nothing occurred if that was what you wanted. It was only the next day, after all. 

In a split second after watching you head towards that damn hiking trail, Joel rinses his cup and steps out into the yard. You’re too far away to have noticed he has appeared, but he wonders if he should go after you, or if he should take his truck with him. Does he have an excuse to bring the truck? He glances up at the sky briefly, already knowing that it wasn’t supposed to rain again for another couple of days. Trailing behind you without saying anything is just creepy, and he doesn’t want to be that person–

His legs carry him at a brisk pace, boots thumping on the ground and his jeans riding lower with every step. When he calls your name he internally cringes at how you lift your shoulders and freeze, turning just your head around to look at him. “Hold on just a second.” He calls, jogging up to where you have paused. 

You give him this look that makes him want to laugh, but he understands. You look frightened of your own embarrassment, trying to mask it with indifference. When he stops next to you and takes a deep breath, he doesn’t really know what his plan is. “You going on a walk?”

You nod, swallowing and shuffling in place for a moment. “Was going to attempt to actually hike instead of just sit there.”

He hums, taking a step in the direction you were going. “I’m off today, mind if I join you?”

He knows you’re pretending to not care just as much as he is, but you smile at him and agree, walking alongside him up to the head of the trail.

You’re about two minutes into this hike, and both you and Joel are out of breath. You haven’t spoken more than when he first caught up with you, and you don’t think you want him to. Pausing to catch your breath doesn’t seem like an option if you really don’t want to talk, so you continue on the path, going up higher on this hill.

Glancing over at Joel makes your face turn red, realizing he is in his boots and jeans that he keeps tugging up, and a dark blue shirt that will likely be covered in sweat if you continue at this pace. He could turn back if he didn’t want to do this walk with you, but you know that he didn’t come to actually walk. He wants to say something, and if you just don’t let him get the chance–

“Can you just, hold on for a second.” Joel puffs out, stopping and placing his hands on his hips. He’s trying to catch his breath, holding his mouth slightly open and furrowing his brow at you. “When the hell did you start walking so fast?”

You can’t help the giggle that bubbles out of you at the ridiculous question. You are walking fast, but the point was to not talk. You aren’t going to admit that to him. “Just moving with a purpose.”

Joel sighs, shifting his weight to his other foot. “Can we talk?”

You immediately start shaking your head, taking another step forward. “No, Joel I don’t want–”

His hand wraps around your wrist gently, pulling you towards him to get you to stop in place. Your heart picks up the pace, closing your eyes to try and stay calm. “Look at me, please.”

When you don’t turn he yanks on your arm again, forcing you to spin into him and bump into his chest with a huff. You open your eyes to only look down, noticing the way his chest rises and falls against yours is erratic, almost like he can’t control himself. 

He says your name quietly, forcing your eyes up to his with his hand under your chin. You stare at him, unsure what his motives are, mind going into overdrive. What is the purpose of this? What does he want to talk about? You’re convincing yourself that yesterday was a mistake and that Joel wouldn’t want you the way that you’ve wanted him when he leans forward and presses his lips to yours again. 

Your eyes flutter shut when he pushes forward to you again, pulling back for a moment to inhale heavily and pressing his tongue out to yours. Brushing it against the seam of your lips to ask permission, sliding his hand up from your wrist into the back of your hair. 

You pull away suddenly after getting lost in his touch, eyes widening at him as he slowly lifts his gaze. “You don’t want me.” You breathe out, leaning further away from him. 

He tsks at you, tightening his grip and holding you in place. “I shouldn’t.” He confirms, leaning back forward and attaching his lips to yours again. 

What happens next seems natural. The way that he kisses your neck and pulls away only to find somewhere secluded off the trail, makes your head spin. How this is happening is beyond you, but your body is alight with desire and bubbling with excited anxiety. 

Joel can’t help but want to watch you only; make you feel good after yesterday's turmoil of Jason, of the diner, of kissing in his truck. He wants to convey to you that he wants you, and the only way to do that is to get on his knees for you while you’re pinned against this rock.

His fingers are gentle, cautious, and waiting for you to give the go-ahead before pulling the waistband of your pants down to your ankles and sliding one of your legs out. He’s quick to pull it over his shoulder, hands supporting your hips as he slowly and methodically explores you with his tongue. 

You bite your lip at the sight of his eyes looking back at you, his pink tongue reaching out to your slit and groaning with want at how you taste. “Oh, darlin’, if I had known this is how you taste–” He cuts himself off with another exploration of his tongue. “I would have said something sooner.”

The “something” that he would have said is lost on you, and easy to not dwell on as his tongue dips lower to your opening and barely enters to feel the smooth skin there. You sigh happily, closing your eyes and leaning your head back into the bark with a dull “thunk”. 

Joel feels his head spinning, his internal monologue telling him this is wrong, but unable to stop at the thought of seeing you let go. To see you completely relaxed in front of him is something he didn’t know he craved, but your plush legs surrounding him and your long neck exposed as you look up toward the sky makes his pants tighten with need and the want to see you come undone. 

And soon enough his tongue helps you do exactly that. Your hand pushes through his hair and yanks, feeling overwhelmed at the idea that Joel is the one to do this. “I’m close–I’m gonna–”

Joel doesn’t let up, pushing himself closer to your center and wrapping his lips around your clit. The suction and flick of his tongue is all you need, breath hitching in your throat and closing your eyes at the sensation. You come so heavily that Joel is seriously holding you up, fingers digging into your skin as your legs shake. 

When you come down your breath is coming out ragged, looking down at him to see his chin is covered with your wetness, a small smirk on his lips. He leans his head against your thigh that is still hanging over his shoulder, a sigh fanning over your center. He clears his throat, taking one hand and wiping his chin before patting your leg and helping you set it down. “I would have told you Jason was an ass sooner.” He clarifies, eyes bouncing between your own. 

Your face goes red again, his fingers pulling up the waistband of your pants as he stands up. He leans against you, his hard-on poking against your leg as you reach for it, wanting to reciprocate before he stops you. You look up at him again, furrowing your eyebrows at him in confusion. 

He gives you a small smile, sighing heavily before saying. “Next time, darlin’.”

[loliwrites]

The One You Need | three

🎶 I spent most my life thinkin’ love was out of reach, so maybe just this once, you could be the one I need, if you let me be the one you need🎶

pairing: neighbor!joel miller x f!reader  rating: explicit, 18+ minors dni  summary: when you move into town hellbent on keeping everyone at an arm’s length, your neighbor Joel finds his way into your life. warnings/tags: au, neighbor joel, age gap [reader is late 20s/early 30s, Joel is late 40s], hyper-independent reader, a bit of a misandrist mindset, men vs boys, dubcon [tagging to be safe] [slight alcohol consumption but neither is drunk], verbal consent received, SMUT, fingering, unprotected p in v sex [wrap it before you tap it, folks], praise kink, slow love, aftercare, vasectomy mention, terms of endearment [sweetheart], female reader, no physical description, protective!joel, soft!joel, dare i say ei!joel, no use of y/n. word count: 5.5k joel miller masterlist | part two a/n: i hope y’all are liking this :) next part may not be out for awhile. gonna figure out what the heck i’m doing with this. tagging @hausofobsession, cuz luv.

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

“Please tell me you’re not drunk,” he mumbled against your skin. So tight that it distorted his words and had you humming for instant clarification. He lifted his head and looked back down at you, as if his eyes alone would be able to figure out the answer. “Drunk?”

You ran your hands up to his chest, “on two and a half beers?”

“That’s not an answer,” he let out a breath and drifted his hand from your neck, down to your chest where he gave one of your breasts a squeeze. You noticed at the same moment, he reached around to your ass but avoided it to simply adjust himself in his jeans.

“I’d have to be drunk to want to sleep with you?”

“I reckon it’d help,” he grinned boyishly and bent in again for another tongue-led kiss as though he couldn’t help himself.

You grabbed either side of his face in your hands and curled your fingers into his beard. “Not drunk, just want you,” there was a lack of movement on his end and you weren’t sure if he was short-circuiting or trying to figure out if someone your size could indeed get drunk on two and a half beers. Either way, you tapped his ribs, “now, if possible.”

Like a spurred horse, he got to it. Scooped you up and held you against him with both arms hooked beneath your thighs. He let out a labored breath when he lifted you up and stood from the couch, as if he wasn’t sure he’d make it fully upright. The noise emitted from him made you doubt that as well.

“Heavy?” You asked, burying your own lips to his neck, this time to avoid his answer. There was a delay in his response, which you only noted because when he spoke again, he’d managed to rise completely.

“No, sweetheart, it’s not you. I got a fucked up back,”

You pulled back and looked at him with a smirk as he began to walk, “old man.”

He managed to side step his t-shirt so as to not trip over it, and started down the hallway. “Yeah. But I don’t think you’re gonna be disappointed,”

Your cheeks got hot, partially by his words and partially by his display of strength. You’d never felt more secure being in a man’s hands. That he had you. Steady. Safe. “I need to get you that horn to toot,”

Joel only smiled, adjusting his hold on you to keep you upright with his forearm as his other hand moved to turn the doorknob and give you both access to his bedroom. The silence gave way to more kissing. He cupped his hand around your jaw and kept you at an angle that accommodated his tongue pressing its way back into your mouth. Slowly, you were being lowered and your backside hit the mattress which prompted you to open your eyes. But that did you in and sent a white hot flash between your legs. Joel stood over you, chest rising and falling gently as he became laser-focused. He brushed the pad of his thumb over your bottom lip and suppressed a smile when it made you part them. But instead of lingering there, he moved his hand to the back of your head and gently took a handful of your hair, close to the scalp, and eased your head back as far as it would go. You whimpered and pressed your thighs together to try and stave off the arousal you knew was pooling in your panties.

“Y’wanna get naked for me?” He asked, his voice low and gravelly.

That also didn’t help the situation between your legs. You nodded, but then remembered he preferred to hear it, “yeah.”

His eyes drifted to your lips quickly and then shot back up to yours. With a quick peck, “go on, then.”

He took a step back and dropped a hand back down to the front of his jeans, palming himself. With the hesitation on your end, he clicked his tongue against his teeth to get your attention again. Your eyes focused on him, then started the plight of removing your clothes from yourself while trying not to get too far in your head about it while he just stared – ogled – at you. Your shirt was the easiest hurdle to get over so you pulled it over your head and set it beside you on the bed. Joel’s eyes seemed to light up at your now exposed chest. The bra was nothing special, and upon realizing that, a new spark of embarrassment ignited in you. Not having planned this, the bra was less than “sexy” and you knew your underwear was even less so. And they didn’t match. Not nearly. That was the reason you rid yourself of your bra so quickly. Maybe he’d forget what it looked like by the time you were down to your underwear.

Joel groaned once your chest was completely free from its constraints. His shoulders seemed to hunch forward and his hand pressed harder against his crotch. Even as your fingers went to your pants to nimbly undo the button and zipper, he closed the gap between you and wrapped one large hand around the front of your neck. Again, he used no pressure to it, more of just an anchor so he could kiss you and nibble on your lip.

You reached down, trying to remain in place to allow his kisses to continue, while also trying to rid yourself of your pants. He caught on to the jerkiness of your actions, and helped you out of your tight jeans until he managed to get them past your feet and completely off. Now as he stood in front of you, your hands went for his belt, shakily undoing the buckle until you could finally yank it out of the loops.

He watched your progress as you went for the button, “don’t have a condom, but I could just go dow–”

“I’m on birth control,” you said off-hand, not even bothering to look up at him. Button undone and making short work of the zipper, you nudged his jeans down past his hips and the curve of his ass.

Joel grabbed your wrist when you reached back to rub the outline of his member in his boxer briefs. “Not for that. I’m snipped,”

Your eyes shot up to him.

He pressed a grin, “only way you’re getting a baby from me is if you’re the virgin Mary. I don’t have anything, but…”

“Me either, let’s get to it.” You scooted further back on to the bed, laying against the pillows. But he didn’t follow you right away and seeing his questioning look, you jumped the gun. “Unless you’re lying and I actually need to get you a full STD panel,”

That seemed to rile him enough to crawl on the bed to you. “I’m not lyin’ to you,” he hooked his fingers in the waistband of your panties and tugged them down. Instead of keeping his gaze on you, he glanced down at his progress and the damp spot on the cotton fabric that sold you out. He smiled up at you, obviously proud of himself.

The urge to smack that smile off his face was strong. You thought about doing it, and like he could read your mind, he rested his weight on top of you, hips and legs spreading you apart, and grabbed hold of your wrists, tugging them up above your head. He gave you a look, and convinced you’d leave your hands where they were, he loosened his grip and began kissing down your body. First your lips, paying them the sort of attention that made you think he wouldn’t get to any other part. Then his tongue trailed down to your neck, and he sucked on your soft skin there, seemingly dissatisfied until he felt he’d done enough to leave a bruise. A mark that when you’d look in the mirror later, would remind you of what was to come. To remember the way his lips migrated further, to your chest, kissing and circling his tongue around your nipple while his fingers toyed with the other. Only to switch and do the same to the other. You moaned and rut your hips up into him, vying for any friction or anything that would spur him into hurrying. But he was slow with his movements. Each one calculated and deliberate. So that by the time you even realized he was kissing your lower stomach and hip bone, your body tensed up and you lowered one hand, curling gentle fingers around his ear.

“Joel,” you hummed, though his ministrations didn’t stop, and you couldn’t help but understand that your utterance of his name did sound eerily similar to a moan to continue. He kissed just a touch lower and dragged his tongue over the skin where the elastic of your panties had left a mark. “Joel, you don’t have to,”

He let your words sink in for just a second before he kissed your hip once more and lifted his head, “I want to…” he glanced down at your legs as you shifted beneath him, trying to close them. Grasping your hesitancy – or discomfort – with that, he relented and looked back up at you, “maybe next time.”

You nodded and silently thanked the heavens above that he let it go at that and made a quick line of kisses back up your stomach, past the center of your chest and then back to your lips. “Fingers?” He whispered into your neck, resting on his side next to you. His hands continued their dance over your skin.

“Just fuck me,” you pleaded and turned your body into him, slinging a leg over his hip to give him access again.

He smiled and leaned up on his forearm, looking down over you, making you feel smaller than you already were compared to him. “This is not me tooting my own horn, but I don’t want to hurt you,”

“Joel,” you whined and rubbed yourself along the outline of his shaft, knowing he’d feel the wetness through his underwear that you’d left behind.

He pouted at you as if jokingly agreeing with your heady whine. “Thing is sweetheart,” he said and kept his gaze on your face even as his fingers drifted lower. He could tell you were hyper-aware of it though you also kept your focus on his eyes. “Two and a half years is a good bit of time,” he ran his middle finger through your slit, biting back a moan of his own, as a silent one seemed to leave your slackened mouth. After circling your entrance but putting no pressure on it, he brought his finger back up to your clit and suppressed another grin when your legs flinched, “and I don’t think the boys you’ve been with ever did a good job.” He kissed you gently and circled his fingers over your bundle of nerves. This time that earned him a new response in the form of your entire body shuddering. Catching your reaction, he lowered his forehead against yours, “your pleasure’s my only priority right now, so we’re gonna make it good.” Joel lifted his head and looked down at his hand and the way your hips lifted to meet it. “Look at you all wet for me. Barely had to do anything and I’ve got you drippin’.”

You rolled forward and buried your face in his chest, sparing yourself from the eye contact he searched for. A laugh rumbled through his chest, and all you could do to keep from falling apart was roll your hips into his hand harder. 

“How about one?” he looked at you despite only being able to see the side of your head, and notched his finger at your entrance. He felt you nod against his chest, but that reaction had him moving his finger away and opting to cup your sex. “Can I see your eyes,”

You turned your head and looked up at him, “you’re killing me.”

“Well, if ya’ listened to me like a good girl, we’d be on our way. But you’re bein’ stubborn, and I’m not out to hurt you,” he made sure you read him loud and clear. “Now can I put my fingers in you or not,”

But this was what you expected from guys. To gear up for a fight. So your body kicked it into overdrive and you pushed on his chest. “If you listened we’d be on our way because I’ve already said yes three–”

In one fell swoop, he took his place back on top of you and slung one of your legs over his forearm as it rested on the bed by your hip. The move kept you open for him, and left you speechless. If you hadn’t been turned on before, that had surely done it.

“We were having such a good time, and now you’re being a brat,” he smirked knowing he had the upper hand, and laid his fingers back at your entrance. “Can I put my fingers inside you or not,”

“Yes!”

This time there was no delay between your answer and the feeling of him sliding his middle finger into you, going relentlessly until he’d gotten it all the way down to the last knuckle. Your jaw fell slack again and your eyebrows furrowed together, looking up at him with pleading eyes. “Like that?” He asked when he curled his finger inside you, against your front wall.

“Yes,” you cried out, elongating the end of the word and writhing beneath him. Only a few quick thrusts of that finger alone before he pulled it out and set forth with his ring finger included. Your eyes were locked on to his, though his gaze alternated between your face and your core. 

Fingers hard at work, when he looked back into your eyes, he saw them glazing over. Your mouth was open, letting out silent moans, and from that he realized the steady rise and fall of your chest had paused. He smiled to himself and lowered his head, planting a wet kiss to your sternum. “Breathe, sweetheart,”

You gulped in a breath of air, hearing an animalistic growl come from Joel’s throat when your inhale resulted in your anatomy squeezing around his fingers which had yet to cease their constant thrusts in and out of you. “Please, Joel, I can’t…” your breath caught in your throat when he curled both of his fingers inside you. “I need you,” your claws came toward his chest and scratched down his skin, trying to get him as physically on you as possible. 

His fingers slowed, “you’ll tell me to stop if it hurts?”

In chasing a high, with blurred vision and your pulse pounding in your ears, and brain fog that overwhelmed you, you shook your head no.

Joel laughed softly and slowly eased his fingers out of you, shushing you when you whined. “That wasn’t the right answer,”

“Please, please. You’re killing me,” you repeated.

“You’ll stop me if it’s not good,” he reiterated.

“You’ll be the among the first to know,”

He kissed you once. Twice. And on the third, sat back on his knees just to lower and pull off his underwear. With it also discarded off the side of the bed, he slotted himself back between your spread legs. You only had a moment to catch a glance of his member, and it instantly set in a whole new batch of nerves. He’d be the biggest you’d ever taken, perhaps exceeding in length and girth than any other boy in your repertoire. And the thought of what that would do to your body was equally anxiety-inducing and thrilling. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you thought you noticed him evaluating your expression, but not catching your direct eye contact, he reached between your bodies and lined himself up with you. Notched his head against your entrance, “good?”

“Yeah,” you murmured and immediately took your lower lip between your teeth, bearing down for what was to come. Joel couldn’t help but think that was you preparing for an unpleasant, and perhaps, downright painful experience. He took a beat to steady himself before he slowly pressed forward, urging himself in.

He felt the first hint of resistance at the same moment your mouth twisted into a wince. Joel pulled his hand out from between you and set it at your hip for leverage while the other went to your neck. His fingertips pressed to the back of it and lifted your head just enough for him to kiss your lips with urgency. Hips dipping into you a little more until about half his length was sheathed inside you, he pulled back to look down when your jaw dropped open and out came the squeakiest of whimpers.

“Y’alright?” Joel stilled his hips, waiting for the go-ahead.

You squinted your eyes shut, feeling them burn with tears. “Yeah,” you gasped out, “you’re big,”

“I know, I’m sorry,” he lowered his head and licked at your neck. “You’re so tight,” he pulled his hips back before slowly thrusting back into you, still only getting halfway of his length in. “But you feel so good,”

“More. Deeper,”

Joel studied your face as he obeyed your command, pushing further until he’d sunk all the way into you, bottoming out. And the way your muscles spasmed around him almost ended him. He bowed his head forward against your shoulder and took a deep breath in through his nose.

“Joel, move,” you pleaded, still pulsing around his length.

He nodded, not lifting his forehead off your shoulder, “I will, just give me a second.”

You reached around his torso and dragged your hands down his back to his ass, “something wrong?”

“Yeah. I’m gonna come,” he admitted, sucking in another deep breath. “Don’t even start. Just… say something about football,”

“I don’t know anything about football,”

That got him to lift his head. And suppressed whatever urge was rising in him enough so that he could pull his hips back and snap them into you again. His speed picked up, sending you upward on the bed. You both pressed a hand to the headboard in the effort of keeping you from hitting it, but even with the abundance of caution, his thrusts got more forceful. It felt like he was splitting you in two, swearing you felt him up in your stomach. And with each particularly deep thrust, the head of his cock pressed against your cervix. 

It had you moaning and whimpering in an endless stream, and just when you didn’t think you could take more of it, he lowered his mouth to your ear and started whispering to you. “Takin’ me so well. ‘Atta girl. Wrap your legs around me,” he waited until you did so. Ankles hooked together behind him and you let out a deep, guttural moan. “So fuckin’ tight, aren’t you?”

You nodded breathlessly, very quickly losing control of your senses and body. 

You fluttered around him and he growled. “This pussy’s so good,” that earned him another round of clenching from your needy center. “I feel you squeezin’ me, sweetheart,” he emphasized that with another hard thrust. “I’m gonna make you come, but I need you to do me a favor,” his kissed just below your ear.

“Anything,” you moaned. “Anything you want,”

Well if that wasn’t just music to his ears. He moved one hand beneath your hips and lifted them just slightly off the bed to enter into you at a different angle, and placed his other at the back of your head, grabbing onto a fistful of your hair. “Touch yourself for me,”

Eyes blinking open while you simultaneously nodded, you thought you’d just come undone then and there. The way Joel was looking at you became even more overwhelming when you lifted your hand to your mouth and licked your fingers, before lowering them to your waist. Joel moaned and for the first time his hips faltered. You knew he was as close as you were. With the first touch of your fingers on your clit, your legs squeezed around his hips tighter and refused to let him go. Why no boy before had enlisted you to help along with your pleasure, you didn’t know. If anything, they had been offended you needed to. But not Joel. Not this man.

“So fuckin’ beautiful,” he whispered, staring right at you. It gave you nowhere else to look but back into his eyes. “Good girl,” he hummed, both very aware of the way you throbbed around his shaft with the praise. “You wanna come for me?”

You nodded immediately, feeling heat pooling between your legs and in your stomach.

“Want you to soak me,” he bit your jaw softly, “come all over my cock.”

“Joel,” you whimpered. The muscles in your legs and stomach flexed and released in steady procession. You could barely hear him over the pounding in your ears. It was also nearly impossible to focus on anything other than the weight of him on you and in you that accentuated the building pressure inside you. “Joel, please,” you managed to choke out.

His hold on the back of your head grew gentler and he lifted your head toward him. “You can let go, I got you,”

“Joel,” you cried out again.

“I promise. I got you. C’mon, come for me,”

His thrust paired with your slick fingers over your clit was your undoing. You buried your face in his neck, entire body stuttering beneath him. His hips slowed but they never stilled completely while you rode out your orgasm; the first given to you by a man, and one that seemed to take blissfully forever to subside. Your body twitched and your breathing hitched for a while longer until it finally went limp beneath him. You sucked wind to get your breath back. 

Joel bit back a moan, “can I keep going? I’m close,”

“Yes, please, don’t stop.” You managed to pull yourself together enough to realize that he’d talked you through your climax, and now it was your turn to do the same for him. “You feel so fucking good inside me. So big, stuffing me full,”

His gaze caught yours as if he hadn't expected you to pick up like this. But you just smiled, leaned in, and licked a broad stripe up his neck. With your orgasm behind you, you unhooked your ankles behind him and let your legs fall wide down to the bed. His thrusts got less rhythmic as he chased his own high.

“Give it to me,” you whispered again, “gimme everything you got.”

“Where?” He groaned when his abs flexed involuntarily.

“Anywhere you want,”

He groaned and sat back on his knees, pumping into you in earnest. You reached for your breasts and squeezed them, your body bouncing and writhing beneath Joel; which he had a full, unobstructed view of now. It didn’t take long, just a few extra sloppy thrusts from him until he unsheathed himself from you and stroked his hand up and down his length in quick procession. Keeping your eyes on his, as he held eye contact, you chewed into your bottom lip when he let out a deep, hearty groan and moments later felt his spend decorating your stomach and waist. His gaze had left your face and shifted down to your body. A few ragged breaths filled his lungs before he leaned back over you with hands planted on the bed on either side of you.

His kisses were slow now. A stark contrast to how frantic they’d been at the start. And with far less tongue. Though it did still search for entrance back into your mouth. 

You smiled against his lips and scritched your fingers through his hair, “good?”

“Fuckin’ fantastic,” his eyes opened when you giggled. He kissed you once more, then rolled over onto his back beside you and turned his head, “good for you?”

With an enthusiastic nod, “definitely.”

He smiled breathlessly and looked back up at the ceiling inhaling a couple deep breaths to steady himself. But just as you opened your mouth to say something, to congratulate him on being the first man to get you to finish, he groaned and pushed himself out of bed. After pulling a new t-shirt from his dresser and a quick search for his underwear, which he pulled back up his legs and settled around his waist, he wordlessly went for the bedroom door and left you in the room alone. He was out before you had gathered your senses enough to question him.

Even the worst of your lovers had stuck around for more than a couple minutes afterward. Certainly didn’t remove themselves from the room. Sure they hadn’t gotten you off, but the one that had, just left you with a feeling of being used and a growing soreness between your legs. You took and held a deep breath, blinking rapidly to keep any frustrated tears from falling. Great. The guy you decided to let in is a runner. 

After a minute and feeling that your legs wouldn’t completely give out from under you, you carefully pushed yourself out of bed as to keep the aftermath of his orgasm off the furniture. Though you weren’t sure why you cared so much. He clearly didn’t. The search for your bra and underwear turned out to be harder than expected, until you’d found them tossed to his side of the bed. The only focus was to get out of there as quickly and quietly as possible. Pretend it’s nothing and get out of there.

“You’re leaving?”

Your head snapped up upon hearing Joel’s voice, and you found him in the doorway with a glass of water in his hands. 

You snatched up your pants, “yeah, I’m gonna go home.”

“Why?” he asked, sounding genuinely confused.

“You left and I feel a little in the way so…”

You picked up your shirt, the last item you needed. Joel looked dumbfounded, and it wasn’t until you neared him to exit, that he pressed his free hand against your stomach gently. “I went to get you some water. And pull some things out for you in the bathroom,”

Your eyebrows furrowed as you tried to make sense of his words, then noting that the glass of water he had was meant for you. “You left so I though you wanted–”

“I thought you might feel more comfortable getting cleaned up and going to the bathroom first.” He removed his hand from your stomach and reached to take the pile of clothes out of your arms. “Come back to me, okay? I don’t want you to go,”

“You sure?”

He nodded, “I know you’re probably good, but I need to cuddle after sex or I start to feel like a piece of meat.” He caught your hands as you tried to swat at him, and he stepped aside, patting your ass, “I’ll be waitin’ for you.”

Nodding and carrying on into the bathroom down the hall, you nearly burst into tears when you saw just what he’d been up to. You’d taken his leaving as a sign that he was no better than any other guy you’d slept with, but was once again shown that he wasn’t like the others. The shirt he’d taken from his dresser was there, waiting for you to claim. A warm, wet washcloth had been placed beside the sink for you, along with a pack of unscented wipes. Your cheeks got hot at the thought – Joel Miller cared about your delicate pH balance.

You went about your business, wiping his spend away with the washcloth, cleaning yourself up, and each moment growing more restless to be back in bed with him. The more you thought about it, the more dangerous you felt it’d become. What if you couldn’t keep your hands off him?

Coming back down the hall and re-entering his bedroom in nothing but his t-shirt, you were blessed with the image of Joel laid back in bed in his boxer briefs. He was staring absently at his hands in his lap, but when he noticed you’d returned, a wide grin crossed his face. He held his arm out to the side as if creating the spot you’d so nicely fit into. And you did. Crawled up the length of the bed and tucked yourself into his side, head resting on his chest. You wrapped an arm around his torso, giving it a squeeze for good measure to keep him close. Once you were situated, he lowered his arm around you, settling it over your ass. There was comfortable silence for a couple minutes. Nothing but the steady rhythm of his heartbeat and the softness of his breath. He punctuated the end of the silence with a kiss to the top of your head.

“I really enjoyed that,” he mentioned.

“Me too,”

“Is that going to be the only time I get to enjoy it or do you think it’s something we might get to do again?”

But this time, all you did was shrug and it didn’t necessarily put his heart at ease. And despite knowing that wasn’t the answer he hoped he was going to get off the bat, he didn’t press for a definitive answer.

“Can I ask you a question?”

Not getting the sense it had anything to do with pressing his previous case, you tilted your head back and looked up at him.

He smiled softly and dragged his fingertip down the bridge of your nose, “is there a reason you didn’t want me to go down on you?”

“Yes,”

“Okay,” he nodded and squeezed your ass softly; a sign that that was all he wanted to know. The reason didn’t necessarily matter.

But he was being gentle and soft, and in the afterglow of sex, you didn’t quite care if he knew the reason. “It requires more intimacy,”

He smiled, “more than me being inside you?”

You nodded and Joel gathered you were entirely serious. “It’s easy for me to disconnect myself from my body when it’s just… penetration,” you mumbled, thinking he’d laugh at the term like a teenager. But instead, his expression remained even. “It’s harder for me to do that with oral so it feels more vulnerable,”

Joel shook his head. Silent reassurance that you didn’t need to convince him of anything. “I understand,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “And I know faking orgasms is in the women’s handbook of physical intimacy, and I’m not disillusioned enough to believe a woman’s never faked it with me, but… I hope you didn’t,”

Your heart beat heavy in your chest, threatening to break out of your ribcage. You stretched upward until he was close enough to kiss, and then you did so, curling your fingers in his beard. Only when you pulled away, “I didn’t.”

He grinned and pulled your leg over his waist. “You wanna stay tonight?”

And you knew it was going to be another answer he didn’t want to hear. You knew you were going to break his heart. And yet you said it anyway, “no I should go home in a little bit,”

He did his best to hide his disappointment, and you hardly saw any of it before he nodded in acceptance.

Fifteen minutes later after thinking maybe you’d change your mind, you and Joel were dressed again – you still in his t-shirt – as he walked you back to your house. Though he had reached for your hand, you dodged it in fear that nosy neighbors would see you. It was bad enough they could see him walk you back to your place at this hour.

At your door, Joel silently watched you unlock it and nudge it open. He pressed a smile in your direction once you turned back to him.

“Thank you,” you whispered, “for tonight. And for fixing my fridge,”

“‘S’nothing,” he insisted and leaned into you. His hand found a spot behind your head as he backed you up against the door jamb, being saved by the back of his hand rather than knocking into the wood. 

The kiss he gave you felt different than all the other ones had felt tonight. Yes, it was slow. But previously, the slow ones had felt like the unhurried motions of a doting lover. This one felt like he was making it last for as long as he could for he might never get another. You placed a hand on his stomach, feeling your legs turn wobbly. By the end of the kiss, you swore you would’ve fallen over if it weren’t for his steadying hands.

Once parted, you backed into your house and gave him one last smile before you shut and locked the door. But hidden inside, you ran to the living room to spy on him and found that he had remained in place by your door; one hand propped up against the jamb. He breathed a couple quiet breaths before turning and descending your porch steps and slowly returning to his home.

[tofics]

Nothing Like Some Neighborly Love

Part 1 - Series Masterlist

Pairing: no outbreak!Joel Miller x fem!Reader

Summary: Goodbye New York, hello Austin! - After a split from your ex, you're in dire need of a fresh scenery. Texas seems to provide just that. Your grandmother, fresh out of a hip surgery and in need of assistance, is happy to have you move in with her as a solution for both of your predicaments. Ever the hands-on person that she is, she also seems to want to rectify your fresh singleness, and she knows just the guy...

Word Count: ~4500 words

Warnings: mentions of a manipulating ex, mentions of cheating, mentions of a surgery, age gap (reader is early 30s, Joel is an unspecified amount (~10-15 years) older than her)

Your arrival in Austin, Texas is anything but spectacular. Besides your bags being some of the first to appear at baggage claim absolutely nothing out-of-the-ordinary happens - it's about as normal as a Monday-morning flight can be.

Not for you, though. Today marks the first day of your new life.

No big deal.

Except it's a huge deal. With every inch that you put between yourself and your old life in New York, you feel your shoulders relaxing a bit more and the tight-knit knot in your chest loosening.

Finally, at long last, you're free.

Free of the asshole that, up until a couple of months ago, was your boyfriend, your roommate, your co-worker.

Your lying, manipulating source of self-doubt, tears and misery.

Good fucking riddance.

"Oh honey, c'mere you!" Your grandmother pulls you into a surprisingly tight hug. For a lady who had hip surgery just two days ago, she seems to be at the top of her game.

"Gammy," you smile and return her embrace, even if not as forcefully. Strong arms or not, she did just come out of the hospital. Better to be a little more careful.

"Come in, come in! Let's get you out of that heat." Your grandma shuffles out of the door and down the hallway with the help of her rollator. You step into the house after her, dragging your two suitcases behind you.

Everything looks just like you remember. The beige carpet that flows from the hallway into the open living room and up the stairs, the brown tiles of the kitchen area, the light flowery wallpaper on the walls - as far as you can tell, not a single thing has changed. It even smells the same, like fresh laundry and soap and a faint hint of your grandmother's perfume.

You can't imagine a more comforting scenery after everything you've been through.

"How was your flight, honey? And do you want anythin' to drink?"

If it wasn't for the rollator, it'd be hard to tell that your grandmother just had a major surgery. She's already bustling about in the kitchen when you enter the open living and dining area, moving at the same speed you've always known her to. Watching your grandmother at work is like watching a busy bee, always doing something, fingers always moving. It goes without saying that your grandmother is not a woman known for sitting still or taking a break.

You already know her answer, but you have to ask anyway. "Gammy, shouldn't you be resting?"

"Restin', restin'. I hear that damn word one more time, I'm gon' have a fit!" She drops two ice cubes of frozen iced tea into each cup, then adds a lemon slice. "Doctor's said I'm s'posed to be movin'." The ice cubes clink and crackle when she pours fresh iced tea on top. "You told me to follow them orders!" Your grandma shakes the big spoon your way accusingly and you can't help but grin at the image.

"That's true, I did. I also said I'd move here to help you, grandma."

"Honey, if I can't pour no more damned iced tea, I want you to put me in my grave. Until then, I'll pour my own drinks. Now get on over here n' take those glasses over to the couch, will ya?"

You do as you're told and sit down next to your grandmother on the couch, making sure to use coasters for your drinks. Glass rings on the furniture did not go over well in this house.

"See? I can ask for help just fine." Your grandmother winks at you and then clinks her glass against yours. "Cheers, baby. Now tell me, how was your flight?"

"It was fine. Boring, uneventful. Just how I like my flights to be." A sip of your glass floods your mouth with the taste of your childhood summers, sweet and lemony and filled with your grandmother's love to the brim. There's no other iced tea quite like it.

"Good, good. And how are you doin', baby? Hm?" Her hand squeezes your thigh as her eyes roam over your face. You know the look: it's the look of scrutiny, the same one she uses any time she wants to get the truth out of someone. You've seen it being given to your mother, your father, your grandfather, even neighbors. You yourself have been at the receiving end of it a few times in your life. The result is always the same - the truth. Your grandmother is not a woman that's lied to.

"Honestly? I feel like a massive weight has been lifted off my shoulders." You sigh, both for effect and because it's true. Setting foot onto Texas soil was already liberating, but sitting in your grandmother's living room has you relaxing more and more by the minute. "I'm just so glad to be here. This couldn't have come at a better moment. Not saying I'm happy you had to get hip surgery, you know, but I'm just glad it all worked out with you needing help and me needing a new place to figure out where to go from here."

You squeeze your grandma's hand on your thigh and she puts hers right on top, squeezing you back. "Oh, hush. Y'know you're welcome here anytime, and I'd much rather have you here t' help me out than some stranger comin' into my house every single day."

Despite your circumstances, you can't deny how lucky the timing of it all has been. Your relationship had been crumbling for months and it seemed like no matter what you did, all your efforts were in vein and largely not reciprocated. To make matters worse, your job was suffering under the pressure of your dissolving relationship as well. You and your boyfriend worked at the same elementary school, you being a teacher and him being the principal, and while sharing a workplace and commute had been something out of a dream come true for the first two years together, it quickly posed a problem when your first problems emerged.

The final nail in the coffin came in the form of him being the nail and the coffin being his secretary. It was so cliché that you didn't know whether to laugh or cry when you first found out. In the end, you did neither, just packed your things and left. That part was easy, with a circle of friends who offered up their couches and open ears immediately. The work part? Not so much. By now you'd say that working under your ex while another woman was actually under him was the worst part of your final months in New York.

You needed to get out. You were already out of your joined flat, the job was the next thing to go. Then your grandmother mentioned she'd need to get surgery on her hip and just hated the idea of having a stranger coming to her house every single day to help her with her day-to-day errands.

The plan basically wrote itself.

Your grandma was delighted by the idea of you moving you here. A temporary arrangement until she's all healed up and you have figured out where to go from here. It's basically a two-birds-with-one-stone situation.

After you've finished your iced tea, your grandmother insists on showing you around the house. "Gammy, come on, you really should sit down, at least a little," you try to convince her, but she's not having any of it. "I know it looks like it hasn't changed much, but I've had some things done since you were here last. Now you'll wanna know where everything is if you wanna help, right?"

You don't even bother contradicting her and she pulls herself up by the handles of her rollator with a triumphant look.

The first room you tackle is right by the entrance, opposite of the guest bathroom. It used to be your grandfather's office, but you're surprised to find it all turned around, now with a bed in the middle of it and an assortment of bedroom furniture to go with it.

"This is my new haven, at least for now." Grammy shuffles into the room and carefully plops her behind down on the raised bed. "Got help from a neighbor a street over. Nice young fella, handsome too." She shoots you a meaningful glance that you decide to ignore. "Him and his brother got some of the stuff from upstairs down here. I got this bed on loan just until I can get back into my old chambers upstairs. Doc said the stairs shouldn't be an issue, but I just wanted to make sure." A few approving pats on the mattress.

"I'm impressed, Grammy. I'd have thought you'd force yourself up the stairs every single night, no matter what. I'm glad you're cutting yourself some slack somewhere." You know your grandma appreciates your candor, but you also know how hard this situation is on her mentally. She has always been an active woman and being physically impaired can't be easy for her. You press a soft kiss to her forehead to emphasize your praise.

"Yeah yeah," she grumbles but then still squeezes your arm. "C'mon now. I wanna show you the upstairs."

The changes upstairs are less drastic, but still noticeable.

For one thing, the master bedroom is full of your grandfather's old files, various stacks piled around the room. It's a temporary set-up that you mean to sort through in your upcoming weeks here, a thank you for letting you stay and your way of chipping in, as your grandmother refuses to accept any kind of rent or payment in general for your stay.

Your own bedroom has also received a slight makeover. Previously a guest room that served as storage for when no guests were in town, the room used to be somewhat cramped, yet still cozy. You've always slept in this room and never minded the wild assortment of furniture and various gadgets, but your grandmother went all out in preparation for your visit and had all of the "junk" removed and stored in the garage downstairs. Now, on top of new furniture, the walls sport a fresh paintjob and the closet is completely empty, waiting to be filled with your own clothes and belongings.

"Grandma, you shouldn't have!," you exclaim but can't hide the excitement in your eyes as you take in your new four walls. The twin bed got exchanged for a queen, which, now that everything is stored downstairs, comfortably fits against the back wall under the window. Despite your solo-self, it comes with a nightstand on each side, matching the color of the dresser to the right and the desk tucked into the corner next to the door. Ever the prepared host, your grandma has already put a small bouquet on one of the nightstands and fresh sheets on the bed.

You spin around and bury your grandmother in a tight hug, suddenly overwhelmed by the love that clearly went into the preparation of your arrival. "You're the best," you whisper against her neck as a couple of tears spill from your eyes.

There's no place you'd rather be.

Your spend your first few days in Austin getting reacquainted with the city. As a child, you'd come here for every single summer break, so you know your way around the neighborhood well enough, but a lot has changed since you strolled around the streets in your dungarees and pigtails. Mostly it's just different shops or a new building here and there, but the neighbors have changed too. You're sad to find out that one of your favorite neighbors, an old man named George who grew the sweetest strawberries in his front yard, passed away just a couple of weeks ago. Another couple two houses down, whose daughter you used to play with on your childhood visits, has moved away to the north. The list of changes is long, but besides old George's death, there's nothing too drastic.

Just as expected (and hoped for), you have no time to dwell on your recent split. With the way the relationship went for the past years, you kind of checked out of it mentally a long time ago, but finding out about the affair still kicked you in the guts. Luckily, you're too busy to get lose yourself in a thought spiral about it, all thanks to your grandmother who is keeping you fresh on your toes.

Being the busy woman that she is, she has a whole list of errands for the week, consisting of groceries, check-ups and social calls. You keep thinking that if it wasn't for her rollator and her slower, slight wobbly walk, you'd hardly know the woman was operated on just days ago, and you're not alone. The same sentiment is expressed to you wherever the two of you go, your grandmother being a well-known and respected woman in her neighborhood.

On Saturday, just five days after your arrival, you take her to the local church. Despite not being big on faith, she has been a member of the volunteer group of the church for decades, and a cherished one at that. The moment you push her wheelchair through the door, other volunteers rush over and swarm your grandmother with questions about her well-being. Grammy makes a point of saying there's no need for the fuss, but you can tell that she's touched by the community's care for her.

The meeting discusses the idea of a block party that's been floating around for some time now, but was never realized.

"Lottie, do you even think you could handle it, being in recovery and all?," an elderly man asks directed at your grandmother. The look she shoots him in response drains some color in his face, and some other members at the table laugh. "I'm insulted you'd even ask, Frank," your grandmother replies with a hint of sourness in her voice, but then her smile grows wide and there's a mischievous spark in her eyes that puts you on high alert. You know that look. Your grandmother is up to something.

"Much as I hate to admit it though, you might be right. I'm not at the top of my game, no denying that. However, that's where my lovely granddaughter comes into play!" All eyes swivel around to you, including your grandmother's, the mischievous sparkle present as ever.

Uh oh.

"As many of you already know, my granddaughter has temporarily moved in with me to help me out during my recovery, gracious soul that she is." Gracious soul? Grammy is laying it on thick. You cock your head slightly to the side with raised eyebrows, all while maintaining a smile on your face. What are you doing? Your grandmother reads the silent question in your facial features but offers no explanation, her smile just turns more sweetly. "As a teacher, she has her fair share of experience with organizing events. Ain't that so, sweetheart?"

"I mean, I've organized two talent shows, but that was in collab-," you begin, still unsure of where this is going, but Grammy cuts you off.

"See? She's perfect. I'm sure she can fill my shoes just fine, and I'll still be there behind the scenes anyway."

Before you can utter another word, you are crowned as head of the block party planning committee. As soon as the decision is made, the group gets down to business and starts mapping out a rough draft. Besides the obvious cake buffet, whipped up and provided by members of the volunteer committee, the only other safe participant is the church's kids group, who, according to pastor William, plan to host a lemonade stand. By the end of the meeting, you have an extensive list of possible collaborators to hit up. As head of the committee, it falls in your jurisdiction to get local business on board.

"Alright, that looks like a solid list. I trust Lottie's granddaughter will do a fine job of getting lots of business on board." Pastor William smiles warmly at you and you can't help but feel like he's already forgotten your name again. Then again, he's got a big flock. Can't blame him if he doesn't remember every single sheep by name.

"And we've got Anne, Derrick and Kirsten for decorating, as well as our kids group. That just leaves the question of construction. Who's gonna supply us with stalls or booths? Any ideas, folks?"

"I'm sure Joel Miller would be happy to chip in. Him n' his brother got that construction business, remember? Sweet boys. Helped me set up my lil' hospital ward situation I got back at home," your grandma chirps up, and suddenly, you understand the mischievous twinkle in her eye.

What an elaborate and canny way to set you up. Wow.

You bite on your lip to hide the grin that threatens to spill across your face, keeping your laughter inside until after the meeting. Once you bring it up in the car back home, Grammy plays the innocent act. "I got no idea what you're talkin' about, honey. Just suggested a guy I know that does good work and has a good heart."

"Right, because especially the good heart is extremely relevant when it comes to building things," you chuckle.

"Sure it is, if it's volunteer work. And I'm tellin' you. That Joel, he's got a heart of gold."

You can sense the way your grandmother's eyes are boring into the side of your skull, but you keep your gaze focused on the road ahead of you.

Heart of gold or not, you're nowhere near ready to be dating again.

"Yeah, come on in, Lottie said you'd swing by."

It's late in the evening and his porch light hums above the two of you, casting a golden light on your silhouettes and long shadows on the ground. The fly screen creaks as Joel Miller holds it open for you. You shimmy past him with a small smile, tugging your folder of papers to your chest so they don't rub against him.

Joel's house smells like wood chips, old leather and something distinctly 'homey' that you can't quite put a finger on, but makes you feel very at ease. The scent engulfs you as you step into the house, briefly interrupted by smell of him, a mix of soap and aftershave and just the tiniest tinge of sweat.

It's an intoxicating combination.

So much so that for the briefest moment, you have the instinct to lean a step back and sniff him, but you catch yourself before you embarrass yourself.

"Kitchen's down there. Got a table and everything for your paper collection." Joel motions down the hallway with a quick and friendly wink at you. You follow his direction wordlessly and sit at the aforementioned table, feeling the tips of your ears growing slightly red.

Your grandma wasn't kidding when she said he's handsome.

You'd chalked it up to her trying to set you up, talking him up the same way elderly ladies tend to talk about men that are younger than them. 'Handsome' and 'smart-looking' are standards in that vocabulary box. You couldn't have known that this time, the description would be right on point.

"Want one?" Joel's got his head in the fridge, holding out a cold beer to you over his shoulder.

"Sure, thanks." Usually you're not so tight-lipped. In fact, you've probably talked more in the past few days than you do in a normal school week, and that's saying something. Going around town and chatting up local businesses about participating in your block party had your mouth going at a hundred miles per hour, figuratively speaking. Between speaking to people in person and confirming spots via your cell-phone, it has been a couple of very word-filled days.

And yet, now that you're with another potential 'client' you have to recruit for your endeavor, your speech well seems to have dried up.

It could have something to do with the fact that visually, Joel Miller is exactly your type. Besides his physique - tan biceps visibly stretching under a tight t-shirt that might be a size too small for him - he's got warm, brown eyes with laugh crinkles around them and a head full of salt-and-pepper hair that pairs beautifully with his scruffy-looking beard. By the looks of it, he has ten, maybe fifteen years on you.

Not really an issue for you.

Your ex, cursed be his name, was a chunk older than you too. It was just the type of man you drifted towards, the kind that's a bit ahead of you in time. In your experience, it pays off maturity wise in a way that men your age just can't compete in, even if your last boyfriend wasn't the best example.

Older men just have a grip on you you can't explain, nor deny.

"So." Joel sets the two bottles of beer down on the table, then slides onto the chair across from you. "What can I do for ya? Lottie said somethin' 'bout you guys needin' somethin' built?"

He screws the caps off of both bottles, then slides one over to you. "Cheers." Your bottles clink together and you take a few chugs, grateful for the liquid running down your dry throat. Whether that's from all your talking or a physical reaction to Joel, you don't know, and you're not sure you want to find out.

"Yeah, that's right," you finally say when you put your beer down half empty. Joel glances at your bottle with one raised eyebrow and half a grin on his lips, but doesn't say anything and instead motions for you to go on. "It's for the church's block party. The volunteer group, which my grandmother is a part of, is putting it together. It's supposed to be this come-together opportunity, get-to-know-your-neighbors kind of thing. I've been going around the past couple of days, seeing who wants to join and maybe offer a booth or a stall."

"Looks like you were quite successful with that." He nods at the wild stack of papers in front of you, post-its sticking out left and right and scribbles all over. You laugh and shuffle through the papers.

"It looks more than it is, but yeah, lots of people want to join, thankfully. Now that's where you come in." You pull out a numbered list and slide it over to him.

"This is everyone that wants to join. Problem is, we don't have enough booths for everyone."

Joel skims over the list, then whistles. "Phew. That's a bunch. How many of them you got stalls for?"

You pause long enough for Joel to look up from the list and notice you biting on your lip. "Umh. None of them?" Your grin is awkward and apologetic at the same time. Joel stares at you for a second, a dumbfounded expression on his face, then breaks out into a bellowing laughter. It's warm and deep and infectious and has the corners of your lips rising into a genuine grin.

"Oh, you're somethin'," he says breathlessly when he recovers from his laughing fit. "I can definitely see the relation to Lottie."

You shrug apologetically again and bite down on your bottom lip, the grin still lingering on your face. "What can I say? Persuasion runs strongly in this family."

"That so?" Joel leans back in his chair and puts his arms behind his head. Before you can help it, your gaze flickers across his across his arms, from his prominent biceps all the way down to where his torso meet his jeans. You look away quickly, but get the feeling Joel caught your stare by his smug grin. "I ain't said yes yet."

He does say yes. You come home giddy, excited by your success of rounding up participants for the block party and flustered from your hour at Joel's house.

It didn't take him long to officially agree, though you had no doubt that he would.

You also have no doubt that Joel Miller has been flirting with you.

There is even less doubt that you liked it.

You surprised yourself. By the time you wrapped your first meeting up, you asked for his number so you could reach him in case of changes or the like. Though the block party really was the main reason you required his number, you couldn't deny finding a little bit of joy in the idea of having his number in your phone. He had smiled all smugly too when you'd asked, his brows wiggling suggestively for just a second before he reached for the pen in your hand and scribbled his number down on one of your papers. "There you go, darlin'," he'd said, and you had to fight the urge very hard to bite your bottom lip at the mention of the endearing term.

It only occurs to you now that your grandma probably already has his number and you asking for his number could have come across as you flirting.

Oh.

"Honey, that you?," your grandma hollers out of the living room when you enter her home.

"Yeah Gammy, it's me," you call back and set your papers down on the side table near the front door.

"How'd it go?"

You tell her about your meeting with Joel in the most nonchalant way possible while you help her chop up veggies for dinner. She listens intently and is delighted that Joel has agreed to build the booths, but doesn't seem surprised by it either. Once you're finished with your summary, she gives you that inquisitorial look again.

"So?"

"So what, Gammy?"

"Don't fool me, honey. What'd you think?"

You keep your eyes focused on the carrot your peeling, determined not to meet her gaze. You just know she'd read everything in your eyes.

"Yeah, he's a nice man," you say, but she just tsks at you and swats your arm with her cooking spoon.

"You know damn well that's not what I asked."

"What do you want to hear then?"

The lack of reply makes you look up. Grammy is staring at you with an anything-but-pleased look on her face.

"What!," you exclaim defensively. Her response comes paired with another whack of her spoon. "He's a good man! You should give him a chance."

"Oh my god, Gammy. He has a kid." You groan, but pictures of Joel's biceps dance across the back of your mind.

"So? You're thirty-two, old enough to be a mom. 'Sides, I ain't tellin' you to marry the man, I'm just sayin' go out, have some fun."

"Oh well, in that case. If I'm not supposed to marry him."

You giggle and jump away when the spoon launches for you a third time, only narrowly missing you by a few inches.

Series Masterlist - Mobile Masterlist

Feedback is always appreciated! If you have any requests, feel free to send them my way. I'm always happy to practice my writing! :)

Find more entries for the hot dilf summer challenge by @hellishjoel here!

[tieronecrush]

hot & heavy

chapter four: american pie

neighbor!joel x f!reader

series rating: E (18+ only, MDNI)

series summary:

over the course of three summers, joel miller becomes woven into your life. the first summer is spent falling for him; nannying his daughter and sneaking around with him in a burning love affair. you know how you feel about joel, he isn’t so sure about how it all is gonna work. the second summer is brief. a month spent at home after graduation and before you move to boston for your dream job. one look at you, one time hearing your voice, and joel is hooked again. he pines over you for that month, but you think — how is long distance of over a thousand miles going to work for a single dad? the third summer, you return home burnt out and pride bruised from your post-grad life. you need time to feel at home again, like your complete self, so you’ve come back home with no return ticket booked. it’s only a matter of time before joel seeks you out, slowly spending more time with you. without an inevitable end to the summer looming over you both, what chances are you willing to take?

word count: 6.6k

warnings: NO OUTBREAK (don’t need to worry about the mushies), no use of y/n, inexperienced/virgin reader, age gap (joel is 30/31, reader is 22), canon-divergent (sarah is 7 y/o), nanny au, mentions of food/eating, pet names (sweetheart, darling, sweet girl, etc.), polite southern manners (use of sir), feeling familial and self-pressure, oral sex (m & f), slightly public sex (no bystanders), fingering, dirty talk, LATINO JOEL cause it's canon which means there's likely subpar spanish

It was Thursday night, the week after you’d kissed Joel for the first time. The week after he’d told you that he’s been thinking about you since he met you. The week after he’d asked you to ride his thigh. The week after he’d made you come while teaching you Spanish.

The last two things hadn’t happened since, but it had been a week full of fleeting moments that made your skin heat up when you thought back on them. You stayed later and later each night that passed, talking with Joel and getting to know more about each other. Joel would prepare dinner, relax on the couch, or even stay in the entryway while the two of you conversed, flirty glances and affectionate smiles passed back and forth.

And in the moments when Sarah was off in her room playing or was outside in the backyard with you two watching her from the screened door, Joel’s hands would sneak around your hips or skim down your backside. Sweet and sultry kisses were shared, giving you more Spanish lessons to tell you what he desperately wanted from you. Last night he’d set dinner down in front of his daughter and walked you to the door, wrapping his arms around you and grabbing a handful of ass as he caught your lips in a heady breath, melding his tongue with yours and leaving you feeling like jelly as he pulled away.

Reminiscing on the moment now as you chop some apple slices for Sarah has you so distracted that you jump when you feel a tug on your shorts, tiny fingers poking at your sides.

“Can I have my snack now, please?”

You smile and nod, throwing the slices into the Aladdin bowl sitting on the granite. 

“Here you, sweet pea. Sorry for taking so long.”

“It’s okay! Thank you!” Sarah sends you a beaming smile and twirls around, bounding out to the living room again.

As you’re cleaning up the counter and the dishes, your cell phone vibrates in the pocket of your jean shorts. After drying your hands off on the kitchen towel, you fish your phone out and smile to yourself when you see Joel’s name on the small screen.

On my way home, you got a minute to stick around when I get back sweetheart?

Course I do :) See you soon, drive safe!

Will do. Gotta make it back to both my girls in one piece

The last message makes your smile grow wider, a giddy feeling in your chest at the simple affection, even via text. After rereading the message a few times, you finally slip your phone away again and turn back to your task.

Settling in on the couch with Sarah after the kitchen’s cleaned, Lilo & Stitch runs on the TV after a few incessant requests to watch it with you. Her tiny legs are stretched across your lap, her torso curled into your side, and her eyes glued to the animations on the screen. As Lilo is yelling about feeding fish tuna, Sarah giggles and you wrap an arm around her to pull her closer.

“I want a Scrump! She’s so cute,” Sarah points at the TV when Lilo pulls the doll out of her duffel bag, and you can’t help but grin.

“I think I want a Scrump, too. She’s so much cooler than those other dolls. Very original,” you squeeze Sarah’s side and grin, “Maybe you can get a Scrump for Christmas or something this year! Put it on your list for Santa.”

“But that’s so far away, like a trillion days,” Sarah replies in a louder volume with a huff, perking up at the sound of keys in the front door. Joel walks into the house, throwing his work bag down on the ground and kicking off his boots. He shuffles into the living room, giving both you and his daughter a quizzical look as he flops down onto the couch on the other side of Sarah.

“What’s a trillion days away?” Joel rubs his hands over his face and looks at the movie playing on the TV, laughing softly to himself and sharing a sweet look with you over Sarah’s head.

“Christmas! I want a Scrump doll and I could ask Santa for one, but it’s so far.”

Joel’s laugh fills out, a bit louder as he speaks directly to Sarah, “Well, that’s true that you could Santa for one, but y’know your birthday’s in just a couple’a weeks, Bug. Maybe one of your friends could get you one. Or Uncle Tommy. He’d get you something weird like that.”

“Weird? She’s not weird, Daddy!” Sarah sits up, crossing her arms in annoyance towards her father.

“Sarah’s right, she’s adorable. I told Sarah I want one, too.”

Joel raises an eyebrow at your response, shaking his head and looking back to the doll on the paused screen.

“That thing? Really?” He watches you both nod and grins, huffing a chuckle out of his nose, “Y’all are somethin’ else.”

You roll your eyes at him playfully, and Sarah gets the idea in her head that she could make her own Scrump like Lilo did, climbing off of the couch and running excitedly up to her room to find materials. Watching her with a soft smile, you turn back to Joel when she disappears at the top of the stairs.

He scoots closer on the sofa, a slight smirk raising one side of his mouth. His hands stretch out, one caressing your waist and the other crossing your lap to the side of your thigh to pull your legs over his. There’s a small gap between the two of you now, close enough to feel his breath against your skin while your eyes fall in line with his deep brown ones. Tension feels thick in the silent air, the sounds of Sarah’s footsteps and the birds outside being the only background noise besides your breaths.

“Missed you today, darlin’. Couldn’t stop thinking about you,” Joel’s voice is low, barely above a whisper as the smirk on his face still tugs at his lips.

“Missed you, too. Been thinkin’ about getting a kiss from you all day.”

Your heart rate increases as Joel’s subdued hum vibrates throughout your chest, his large palms skating up your back and fingertips tracing your spine.

“That so? Well, all you gotta do is ask, sweet girl.”

You laugh faintly, biting your bottom lip as your eyes flitter back and forth over his to keep eye contact.

“Can I have a kiss?”

Joel tilts his head, clicking his tongue in a tsk.

“Now I think we both know you have better manners than that, sweetheart.”

You sigh with added drama, mouth screwing up into a tight purse to one side. Joel’s face is still stern, smirk playing at the corners and humor glittering in his eyes. An idea comes to mind, from the first time you met him even, and you bite back the sly smile that would give you away. Instead, you put on your best sweet expression, batting your lashes as you ghost your lips over his as you speak.

“May I please have a kiss, sir?”

His eyes darken as you’re staring into them, a long exhale slipping from his lips as he shifts his hips under your leg. A simper stretches your lips to expose your teeth, a light laugh rolling as you throw a satisfied look in Joel’s direction. A simmer grows in your gut as you await his response, pumping your heartbeat in a steady, quick rate.

“Don’t start somethin’ you can’t finish, querida.”

“What makes you think I can’t finish it?”

“The fact that you have to go home tonight.”

Before you can offer a counter, Joel closes the small gap between the two of you, a sincere smile on his face as he presses his lips to yours in a tender kiss. With a few seconds passing of the PG-rated kiss, his hand drifting down towards your ass parts your lips in a gasp, his tongue melding with yours in a hotter exchange. The two of you makeout with each other for a few minutes before you both hear the pitter-patter of footsteps upstairs, pulling apart and separating to your original spots on the couch.

Nothing more comes from upstairs, and Joel sends you a suspicious look.

“Probably should go make sure she’s not destroying her room or somethin’ to make that weird doll.”

You laugh and nod, standing up from the leather seat. Joel follows you to the front door, watching you slip your shoes on and grab your bag from the table. He grins when you turn back to him, reaching out to pull you in.

“Wanted to ask you somethin’ before I forget.”

“And what’s that?”

His eyes drift down to the ground and he clears his throat, free hand finding the back of his neck and moving up to mess with the hair at the crown of his head. Legs shifting his weight back and forth, left thumb rubbing circles into your hip before his eyes come back to you holding trepidation.

Is Joel…nervous?

What the hell could he need to ask you that has him acting like this?

“Is everything okay?”

You lay your hand over his on your hip, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“God, yeah, I’m sorry. Just, I, uh, I was wonderin’ if you were doin’ anything on Saturday night?”

Joel Miller is this nervous to ask you out?

Joel Miller is this nervous to ask you out.

Damn, he’s adorable.

“Joel, are you asking me out?”

He sees the smile hidden in you expression, an embarrassed groan rumbling from his chest.

“I haven’t asked anyone out in years, sweetheart, so you’ll have to forgive me, but yes. Was wonderin’ if maybe you’d wanna go for a drive, and then stay the night with me? Sarah’ll be at her mom’s for the weekend. And I’ll be real lonesome.”

He shoots you his best pleading look with those big brown puppy eyes — another thing you never thought you would see from Joel Miller, but after a week of being something with him, you’ve come to learn that he uses them frequently to get what he wants.

And you definitely haven’t built a tolerance for them.

And probably never will.

“No need to try to persuade me, I’d have agreed without the eyes, babe.”

He winks lightning fast, shaking his head. Feigning innocence with the look across his face, shrugging his shoulders and holding you to his chest.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about, cariño,” a chaste kiss is shared, and then another, and another, “You really wanna stay over?”

“Course I do,” your hands find his shoulders, nerves crossing his eyes, “Don’t worry. I’ll tell ‘em I’m staying at a friend’s house. We can figure somethin’ out with my car.”

“I’m sorry, darlin’. Just don’t think it’s a good idea—”

“I know, Joel. It’s alright. Don’t want to have you end up with a shotgun pointed at you. Metaphorically speaking. Dad doesn’t have a gun.”

He huffs out a tight laugh, nodding slowly and pressing a gentle kiss to your lips.

“See you tomorrow? We can figure out Saturday night then?”

You nod and give him a taut, thin smile.

“See you tomorrow. Night, Joel. Tell Sarah I said g’night too.”

“Course. G’night, sweet girl. Sleep well.”

He gives you one last peck before holding the door open for you, watching from the threshold as you cross the yards and give him one look back, waving to him.

Excitement for the weekend swirls in your stomach, but you can’t help but feel the sharp pain of your heart constricting at the thought of keeping a secret for the summer.

The pathetic air conditioning of your 1997 used Honda CR-V spits out lukewarm air while the rest of the car bakes in the 96º evening heat in the middle of July.

The skin of your thighs is plastered to the gray leather of the seat below you, and you can already tell it’s going to be extra painful to peel yourself out. At this point, you’re gripping the hem of your strappy white sundress and fanning yourself in an attempt to cool down even a little bit.

20 minutes have passed since you parked up at the far end of the lot outside of Foley’s department store at the Highland Mall. You’d told your parents that you were heading over to Emily’s house, a friend from high school, and spending the night there. After covering for her countless times over the last few summers, she owed you a favor — no questions asked — and so you made sure she would corroborate your lie if your parents asked.

But being the goody-goody you always were paid off from time to time. They trusted you enough to not have to check in with anyone you’d mentioned hanging out with, never expecting you to lie to them. And you really didn’t, not fully. You were going to spend the night at a friend’s house, it just happened to be Joel’s instead.

Joel didn’t let any detail slip yesterday when you were talking about tonight before you left. You’d come up with the plan to meet in the mall parking lot, but when you asked what he’d planned, he only gave you a grin and shook his head.

“It’s a surprise, sweetheart. What kinda first date would this be if there wasn’t some element of surprise? I wanna do somethin’ for you, so let me.”

Another five minutes have passed and you are nearing suffocation from the heat in your car. Finally, Joel’s Ford pickup is coasting through the virtually empty parking lot in your direction, slowing down to a halt before he throws it into park. You turn toward your passenger side to gather your purse and your backpack filled with your overnight necessities.

“Shouldn’t leave your doors unlocked just sittin’ here, sweetheart.”

Joel’s voice sounding from right behind you makes you jump, whipping your head around to look at him over your shoulder with a huff.

“Fucking hell, Joel, scared the daylights outta me!”

He laughs, leaning against the frame of your car to block you in.

“Like I said, shouldn’t leave your doors unlocked. Don’t know who’s gonna come by and try somethin’.”

“Oh hush, nobody’s out here,” you slide your purse over your arm and turn off the ignition, dropping your keys inside of its largest pocket. Joel backs up a few steps to let you climb out, a soft wince slipping from behind your teeth as your skin sticks to the seat. Once you’re standing in front of him, you turn around and lean over the seat and center console to grab your overnight bag.

Joel’s hands find your waist and turn you back to him when you have your backpack, a tender smile on his face as he looks down at you.

“Didn’t get to properly say hello to ya.”

His lips meet yours in a supple kiss, a smile finding its way onto your face as he lets out a satisfied hum.

“Hello to you too,” both of your smiles match before you continue, “So what’s the plan? I need somethin’ cold wherever we’re goin’, I’m sweating.”

His smile grows wider while his head slowly moves left to right. Your hands brush when he takes your overnight bag from you, his other hand finding the small of your back to guide you to the passenger side of his truck.

“You’re nearly there, darlin’. If I know anything about you, I know you’ll like what I’ve got planned for you.  And I promise it’ll cool you down.”

When the car door clicks open and he swings it out, Joel sends you a wink before offering you a hand to help you climb up into the cab. He closes the door behind you, making his way around the front to his side, setting your bag on the seat behind him, and starting up the truck.

Warmth spreads on your skin when his hand finds your thigh, long fingers extending to the inside while his thumb sweeps back and forth languidly toward the outside. Strip malls filled with one-off businesses, chain restaurants, and a few honky tonk bars blur past through the window, Joel heading in the direction opposite of your neighborhood and further out of Austin proper. The windows are cracked, and the speed of the car cools the wind down as it rushes in, swirling your hair around. You open the window further, extending a hand out and closing your eyes as you feel the evening summer air fill the car.

Joel slows to a stop at the first red light you’ve hit and you slowly open your eyes, taking in your surroundings and smiling softly when you recognize where you are. His timbre takes you out of your observations, head snapping in attention to him.

“You look real beautiful tonight, sweetheart. Pretty as a peach.”

The hand on your thigh finds yours closest to him, lacing your fingers together and bringing the back of yours up to his mouth to press a sweet kiss to your skin as the light turns green. You hold his hand with both of yours in your lap, a shy grin on your face.

“You clean up pretty well yourself, Miller. Lookin’ mighty handsome, but you always do.”

“Oh yeah? You think I’m handsome even when you see me dirty and sweaty and exhausted most of the time?”

He glances towards you, eyebrows raised expectantly.

“Well don’t go fishing now, but yes I do. Especially then,” you say casually, shrugging your shoulders before adding, “You’re built like a brick house. It’s hot seeing you all sweaty and dirty with your hair messed up and your t-shirts tight around your arms and your chest.”

Joel laughs, squeezing your hand in his and shaking his head in disbelief.

“Don’t think anyone’s ever said that I’m built like a brick house.”

“It’s true! In the best way possible. You’re solid and strong and tough. Safe. Sturdy. Reliable. The metaphor extends past your looks.”

“Thank you, sweet girl. ‘M glad you see me that way.”

He takes a breath in like he’s going to continue but it’s interrupted by getting his chance to turn off the main road and into the first destination of the night — the Tastee-Freez that you and Joel had talked about visiting when you were kids. Come to think of it, there’s a good chance you would have been there at the same time when you were younger.

A nostalgic grin crosses your face as you look over at Joel, a sheepish smile on his face. He scans for a parking spot, finds one, and lets go of your hand to stretch his arm behind your seat, twisting around in his as he effortlessly backs into the spot.

Why is it so attractive when a guy does that?

At the walk-up window, Joel stands slightly behind you with his hand rubbing up and down your back while you both act like you’re reading the menu when in reality, you’ll get the same thing you’ve been ordering for years.

It was a quick wait until you were up at the window to order, Joel’s hand still on you.

“Ladies first, darlin’.”

For you, it’s a vanilla-chocolate twist soft serve in a cone with chocolate hardshell dip.

For Joel, plain vanilla with butterscotch hardshell.

And yes, you had to give him a little shit for that.

The two of you find an empty picnic table at the side of the building, sliding onto the benches across from each other. Joel rests on his elbows on the table, leaning closer to you while his right leg slips between yours as if you’re a magnet. In between bites and licks of ice cream, the two of you reminisce together about coming to this particular establishment as kids, and then as teenagers, rowdy and causing trouble in Joel’s case. 

“That poor kid!”

“Oh, c’mon. He was eleven and it was Tommy. He doesn’t need your sympathy, darlin’. He was askin’ for it.”

“No eleven-year-old deserves gettin’ an ice cream cone to the head when he was talkin’ to his first crush! I can’t believe you were such a cruel older brother back then.”

“Cruel? I wasn’t cruel. I was building character. Now he’s a slightly less annoying pest.”

“That’s such bullshit, oh my god!”

Easy banter bounces between the two of you, stories running off on tangents and revealing details to each other about yourselves. Laughs and flirty passes are shared, Joel insisting on you trying his cone after you dogged on his choice again. You ended up swapping, Joel giving you the last bite of chocolate dip that your original cone had before finishing it. Flimsy paper napkins stuck to your hands as you attempted to clean up the drips that covered your skin, giving up and running to the bathroom at the back to wash your hands quick. Joel emerges at the same time as you from the men’s, giving you a smile and catching his hand with yours as your strides match up.

“Ready for the next surprise?”

“If it’s anything like this one, you have my full trust.”

“So glad you said that, ‘cause I actually booked us an appointment to get matchin’ tattoos.”

Your face drops, gaze snapping over to Joel and rolling your eyes when you see the playful twist of a smirk on his lips, humor in his eyes. Gripping his bicep, you shove him to the side gently, Joel not getting too far with his hand anchoring him to you.

“Quit fuckin’ with me!”

Joel’s head falls back as he laughs, slowing his walk as the two of you approach the truck again. He opens the door for you, grinning sweetly and pursing his lips.

“Can’t help myself, you look cute gettin’ fucked with. All flustered and wide-eyed.”

He winks before kissing your temple, a heat crawling up your spine and settling in the back of your neck. After helping you into the car, Joel’s back in the driver’s seat and eases the car out of the parking lot. He takes a right, heading back in the direction of your neighborhood.

About three miles from home, he takes a left and drives a bit further west. The radio plays quietly, a comfortable silence filling the car. His hand rests on your thigh again, half of his fingers slid underneath the hem of your sundress. His gaze is straight ahead on the road, and you take a moment to study his chiseled profile.

Familiar trills of piano and a bright, full voice rings out from the speakers. An excited gasp drops your jaw in a short inhale, your hand reaching for the volume dial to turn it up. Don McLean’s American Pie plays loudly into the truck now, a wide smile on your face as you look over at Joel next to you.

“I fucking love this song!”

The slower introduction seamlessly transitions into the upbeat, classic summer song as you roll your window down all the way. Your arm falls out of the opening, hair blowing in the wind as you start to sing along with Don.

“Do you believe in rock 'n' roll? Can music save your mortal soul? And can you teach me how to dance real slow?”

Your eyes shut tightly while you nearly shout the words, laughing in between the lines.

Joel’s own laugh interrupts your singing of the rest of the verse, and you sit up quickly to turn toward him.

“Sing along! I know you know how Miller. I saw your guitar and your daughter likes to tell me about all the songs you sing together.”

“You sound much better than me, darlin’. I like listening to you.”

“C’mon, please! For me?”

The song continues to play while the two of you project back and forth, Joel giving in to your own pleading puppy eyes and joining in with you on the chorus. His voice is gruff and bluesy, and suddenly it’s your favorite sound besides his speaking voice. The two of you start to shout the words, carefree when you pull up to stop signs and dance in your seats. Joel holds his hand in a fist over to you, your own hands wrapping around it and using it as an air microphone. He brings it back to himself, bobbing his head while the words effortlessly fall from his lips.

The river comes into view between trees, and a smile finds your face as you realize where he’s taking you. Another place you’d mentioned in passing that he’d paid attention to.

Parking up at the lookout point, the song fades into the next one. You turn the volume back down, sighing happily as you take in the view of the sunset starting. No other cars are around, the two of you alone in the spot you love to visit when you come back home during the summers to watch the sunset fully unobscured.

“You’re a good listener, y’know.”

Joel turns to you with a coy grin tugging one corner of his mouth up. He shrugs and rubs his hand against your thigh.

“Easy to remember things about you.”

The simple sentence strikes a chord in you, your heart beating faster and gut swirling with a warm, airy feeling. You can’t think of anything to say to him to convey what you’re feeling, so instead you unbuckle yourself, sit up and scoot over across the bench seat to his side. Your gaze only drops from his eyes to glance at his lips before you kiss him. It’s slow and syrupy, stretching your insides like taffy. Your tongue melts with his, soft whimpers being swallowed as Joel’s hands grip your thigh, gathering you across his lap. His hands move around you, pushing the steering wheel up as far as it could go and adjusting his seat back to give you more space to sit comfortably. Once the seat is settled, he wastes no time finding the flesh of your ass, hands slipping under your dress and moaning quietly when his fingertips brush against the lace of your panties.

“Wore somethin’ pretty for me, darlin’?”

“Mhmm. Wearing those white ones you like so much.”

“Fuck me.”

A giggle falls from your lips against his, the bulge of his jeans growing under you. His large hands on your ass push you down and grind his hips up against your covered pussy. The center of them sticks to your folds, your own hips swaying in the same rhythm. Heady kisses continued, Joel pulling away to attack your neck with kisses, licks, and tiny bites. All that comes from your mouth are whispers of his name.

Beneath you, you can feel that Joel is rock-hard. Saliva floods your mouth, an image of him in your mouth right here in his truck playing in your mind. A jolt of adrenaline kills your nerves, confidence filling your chest as you pull away from Joel, moving to sit at his side on the bench again. Joel stares at you inquisitively, his lust-hazed mind taking a moment to catch up until your thoughts become clear when you pop the button of his pants and drag his zipper down. His hand lays over yours, eyes locking with yours.

“You don’t have to do anything, sweetheart.”

The anxiety starts to crawl back, and before you lose your nerve, you shake your head.

“I want to. If you want to. It’s okay if you don’t, we can forget—”

“Definitely want to, darlin’. Definitely. If you’re comfortable,” his hand sweeps over your cheekbone and down your jaw, a tender grin crossing his face, “You ever done this before?”

Shaking your head, you bite your bottom lip.

“Never, um, with my mouth. But with my hand, yeah.”

“That’s a good start, cariño. I can teach you how to do the rest, but you show me what you know.”

You kiss him again while he pushes his jeans down to his kneecaps along with his boxer briefs, his cock springing up against his t-shirt. Your lips pull away from his as your head stares down at his lap, licking your lips. Joel’s voice rumbles low as he mumbles.

“G’head, pretty girl.”

A long exhale is quiet out of your nose, your tongue wetting your palm before your hand wraps around the base of his thick cock, starting languid strokes along the length. Pre-cum pebbles out of the slit at his tip, your thumb ghosting across it as your hand reaches the top on the next stroke. A short hiss squeezes out from behind your Joel’s teeth, his hand gripping your side while his head finds a place in the crook of your neck and his mouth continuing to pepper kisses and nips against your skin.

The pace of your hand speeds up, a faint moan from Joan vibrating against you.

“Fuck, sweetheart. Feels good,” another sigh of a moan cuts him off before he adds, “Think you wanna try with your mouth now? We’ll take it slow.”

“‘M ready.”

Joel helps you get comfortable kneeling over him on the seat and you feel the burn of his stare when you bring your mouth down toward his dick.

“Just start with the tip, darlin’. Y’can kiss it, lick. Only take it in when you’re ready.”

You follow his gentle instructions, kissing his tip and feeling his pre-cum coat your lips where it meets his skin, licking the spend before running your tongue across the tip. The sounds from Joel above you go straight to your aching pussy, your panties completely soaked without his touch reaching there. Your kisses drift down his length, tongue tracing over the veins before your mouth returns to his tip, taking the head into your mouth and hollowing your cheeks.

“Oh, fuck. That’s so good, baby. Just like that.”

At his encouragement, you swirl your tongue around him in your mouth before lowering your head and dropping your jaw wider to take more of his large cock. Joel instructs you to use your hand on the rest of him, following the same rhythm with your fist when you start to move your head up and down. He moans your name, hand resting on the back of your head and fingers tangling in your hair. You work your mouth on his cock, your free hand slipping between his legs to give attention to his balls.

“God damn, sweetheart. Sure you haven’t done this before?”

His breaths are short and you feel his balls tighten in your hand. He twitches in your mouth and he rasps out that he’s close. You’re desperate for him to come in your mouth, taking as much of him as you can before it sets off your gag reflex at the back of your throat. The loudest moan you’ve heard from him rumbles out of his chest, soft “fuck”s following it.

“Gonna come, sweet girl, fuck. Don’t have to take it in your mouth.”

Your lips leave him with strings of saliva tethered from his cock to your mouth, shaking your head quickly.

“I want it in my mouth.”

Joel’s eyes darken, nearly black, a flash of deep desire in them.

“Think we both know you got better manners than that, sweetheart.”

Your cunt flutters around nothing as his commanding voice, whimpering as he tugs your hair gently to look at him.

“May I please have your come in my mouth?”

“What are you forgetting? Ask again.”

His own hand works his cock, sweat pooling in the exposed skin at his collar.

“May I please have your come in my mouth, sir?”

“Good girl,” you relax next to him, bending over his lap again as you hear him give you permission, “Go on, pretty girl. ‘S all yours.”

His cock fills your mouth again, the tip gagging you again and muscles tightening around him send him over the edge, warm come spilling onto your tongue. You try to catch as much as you can before it slips down him from your mouth, his hand at the back of your head pulling you off to look at him again.

Awestruck, blown pupils stare at you as you show him his spend on your tongue, closing your lips and swallowing. He groans your name, breaths slowing while he watches you use your fingers to clean around your mouth, sucking your fingers before licking his cock clean of his come.

“God, you’re fucking incredible.”

He kisses you deeply, cupping your chest with one hand and thumb brushing over your hard nipple. You settle back with a proud smile, shrugging casually.

“Got a good teacher, I guess.”

He kisses you again, sighing softly as he pulls away.

“Better be ready for another lesson when I get you in my bed tonight. But I think you’d just qualify this one as a lecture. No need for student participation.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mhmm. Gonna make you come with my fingers and then on my mouth. You want that, baby?”

Your head lulls in a nod, a smirk crossing your face.

“Yes, sir.”

Joel groans, shaking his head as he mirrors your smirk.

“You’re fixin’ to be trouble with that, aren’t ya?”

“Yes, sir.”

You wink as Joel tugs his boxers and jeans back on, not bothering to button them. After the two of you get buckled, he backs out of the parking space, shaking his head again as he starts back to his house, driving a bit faster than before.

“Mi pequeño diablo, my little devil. Who would’ve thought you were such a naughty girl?”

Falling back against the pillows at the head of his bed, a film of sweat coating your naked body with a sheen and chest heaving to catch your breath after your third orgasm from Joel. He’d sped back to his house, only slowing down to drive normally down the neighborhood streets to not draw any attention to the two of you. Once you’d made it back, he’d virtually carried you inside with how quickly he was moving behind you and guiding you up to his bedroom.

His fingers had coaxed the first out of you, straddling his lap at the edge of the mattress after a heavy makeout session. His lips spilled out Spanish, translating for you after he’d let it all out.

“Te ves tan hermosa cuando te corres, cariño. Quiero que lo hagas una y otra vez solo para escuchar tus pequeños sonidos y mirar esa cara. You look so beautiful when you come, sweetheart. I want to make you do it over and over just to hear your little sounds and look at that face.”

Dressing you down to only the lacy set you had worn for him, he worshipped your body with his mouth, pressing kisses and marking you with lovebites as he got you completely naked. Teasing your nipples, fanning his breath over your wet cunt, he roused you up to use his mouth to make you fall apart all over again.

After his taste of you, he begged you to let him do it again.

“Just one more, sweetness.”

“I can’t do it, Joel, ‘s too much.”

His fingers worked you open slowly again, whimpers falling from you as he sends you soft encouragements.

“You can take it, pretty girl. This pussy was made for it, made for me to play with.”

It didn’t take much more convincing after he said that, his thick fingers and mouth pulling out that third ultra-sensitive orgasm from you, his name moaned repeatedly from you as you look down at him using his tongue to clean you up.

You finally caught your breath, exhaustion rushing over you as your hazy vision watches Joel clean you up with a warm, damp washcloth. Your eyes fell closed, turning on your side on his bed and using the last of your energy to slide under his comforter. The bed sinks when the weight of him joins you, strong arm wrapping over your side and tugging you closer across the sheets. He’s bare besides his fresh pair of boxer briefs.

“You sleepy, my sweet girl?” His voice is low and raspy, lulling you into the warm slumber.

“Yeah, but I wanna stay up with you.” You fight the feeling of falling, peeling your eyes open and stretching your lips into a drowsy smile when you see Joel’s affectionate look.

“‘S alright if you wanna go to bed, we’ve got the morning, too.”

“No, no. Just ask me a question, if I keep talkin’ I’ll stay awake.”

Joel chuckles, his smile showing off his teeth as his hand reaches for the side of your face, brushing your hair behind your ears.

“Alright, rapid-fire questions, sweetheart. Favorite color?”

“Green.”

“You?”

“Purple.”

“Childhood pet?”

“Dog. German Shepherd named Roxie. She was the best.”

He laughs softly again and nods.

“Had a mutt we found in our neighborhood. His name was Mancha. Means Spot, or really stain, in Spanish. My mom thought she was hilarious.”

It’s you laughing now, grinning widely.

“That is hilarious. Is she—is she still around?”

His lip twitches, eyes darting from yours for a second.

“No, she passed away when Sarah was two. Dad’s been gone since I was seventeen.”

“I’m sorry, Joel.”

You skate the pads of your fingers across his cheek in a tender touch.

“Thank you, darlin’.”

He punctuates his statement with a kiss on your forehead, hand tightening at your hip before he continues.

“What was your first impression of me?”

Your skin heats and a sheepish smile crosses your face, shaking your head.

“I was hoping you would never ask me this,” you groan before dropping your eyes from his and studying your finger as it creates constellations of the freckles on his chest, “I saw you first from my living room window getting out of your truck when you moved in. I thought you were really attractive; probably would’ve said hot. I thought it was kind of funny that you were yelling at Tommy, and I could see your whole demeanor changed when you grabbed Sarah out of the car. You just lit up and it was so endearing. And then I was immediately embarrassed when you noticed me and waved to me.”

“Y’know, I saw you way before that day, sweetheart.”

Surprise twists your face, wide eyes meeting Joel’s.

“What? What do you mean? Are you a stalker?”

“God, no,” he laughs before he caresses your cheek, thumb brushing back and forth, “It was the first time I toured the house. It musta been your Spring Break or somethin’, but you were sittin’ in the hammock in your backyard when I walked out onto the deck in our yard. Thought it was nice to see what the neighbors were like. Then you got up and walked towards the deck, and I really saw you when you got closer. Felt like the wind got knocked outta me, you were just so beautiful. Like the sun was radiating off of you that day, kinda— what’s the word?...Ethereal. I was sold on the house already, but the chance to see you again, meet you, was the cherry on top.”

You swallow audibly, breath caught in your throat as you look at him tenderly. Leaning over to him, you press a gentle kiss to his lips and say quietly.

“Bet my pajamas and bedhead look on your moving day had you second-guessing your choice.”

All he does is shake his head, a smile plastered on his face.

“Not a chance, my sweet girl. Not a chance.”

Conversation slows as both of you grow more exhausted, Joel turning to lay on his back and tucking you into his side. Your ear rests over his chest, the strong, steady thump of his heartbeat drawing you into sleep, not before pressing one last kiss to his skin.

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[jobean12-blog]

Wrangled

Pairing: Joel Miller x reader (Cowboy/Neighbor AU)

Word Count: 2,214

Summary: There’s a new Cowboy in town and as much as your father-who is too old fashioned and a bit of an asshole- hates to admit it, he needs some help on the farm, so when Joel starts coming around you can’t help but fall for him. 

Author’s Note: The trailer for Pedro’s new film ‘Strange Way of Life’ has sparked some inspo Cowboy style! It’s my first time writing this AU so forgive me for any silly mistakes or cliche stuff. I’m really looking forward to this film! Thank you all so much for reading and much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by my sweet Daisy, thank you! @firefly-graphics 🥰

Warnings: some soft fluffy moments, tension, flirting, Joel being entirely too s-e-x-y and i-mpli-ed s-e-x-y times 

Joel Miller Masterlist

The full glasses of lemonade wobble precariously on the tray as you walk toward the barn, the sweltering sun making droplets of sweat roll down your back.

“There you are,” your father says as you come around the building.

The sound of hooves stomping the dirt drowns out your response as Joel approaches on his horse. He stops just beside you, tugging gently on the reins before he swings one long leg over and slides off.

Joel immediately turns your way, his eyes discreetly sweeping down your body. He tips his hat in greeting before giving your father a short nod.

You hand Joel a glass first, his rough fingers brushing yours and causing a shiver to shoot down your spine despite the early morning heat.

“Looks like I got here just in time,” he drawls. “Thanks darlin’.”

“Sure is a hot one,” your father states as he takes his glass.

You nod in agreement but keep your eyes on Joel, watching intently as he drinks down the cool lemonade.

He takes a long sip, tipping his head back so you can see the muscles in his neck move with every swallow. A bead of sweat rolls along his temple, getting lost in the salt and pepper of his beard before it traces the curve of his jaw and slides down the column of his neck.

Your tongue darts out to trace your lips and his eyes follow the movement, a dark heat simmering behind his warm brown irises.

“I’ve got to go into town and look for some parts for these machines,” you father states, effectively breaking the tension between you and Joel. “I won’t be back ‘til lunch time.”

“Ok,” you say quietly.

“Now I want you to listen to Joel here,” your father continues. “He’s gonna continue workin’ and anything he needs you best be there to git it done.”

“Of course,” you agree with a hard swallow.

“I’m sure we’ll manage just fine,” Joel murmurs and you can feel his eyes on you.

After speaking with Joel about parts and machinery your father goes back to the house and drives away in his truck, leaving you standing alone with Joel.

“You’re lookin’ as pretty as a peach darlin’.”

You eyes fall to your feet but you whisper, “you’re welcome to look.”

Calloused fingertips press under your chin and he lifts your gaze.

“Is that so?” he asks, taking a step closer.

Your breath catches at the look in his eyes, desperate with barely contained desire.

His thumb moves to brush across your lips and your eyelashes flutter against your cheeks. You reach up with a trembling hand and wrap your fingers around his thick wrist as best you can, holding on to steady yourself.

“Is there anything else I can do for you?” you breathe out.

“I’d love another glass of your delicious lemonade darlin’. Can’t seem to quench my thirst today.”

Your eyes open wide and you stare at him before releasing his wrist and practically running up the hill back to the farmhouse.

When you return with a fresh glass of lemonade, Joel is no longer standing outside the barn.

You call his name but there’s no answer so you walk into the cool shade of the barn and search for him.

Then you hear a horse snort and grunt and spot Joel at the far back stable, racking up Whiskey to the post. You approach slowly and Joel stands, giving Whiskey a pat before he takes the glass you’re holding out.

He winks and tips his hat before drinking the whole glass in one long sip. He smacks his lips and places the glass down on a bale of hay.

You gently pat Whiskey on his nose, the horse whinnying and slowly shaking his head. When you feel the weight of Joel’s gaze you cut your eyes to him.

“You’re staring,” you state.

“I like what I see,” he answers as he saunters closer.

You lower your lashes and turn your attention back to the horse but when you feel the heat of his body at your back it sends goosebumps exploding over your skin.

“What are you doin’ all day alone in that house?” he asks, his lips a whisper along the shell of your ear.  

He places a soft kiss just under your ear before sliding his nose down your neck with a deep inhale. Your skin tingles at the sensation and you crane your head to the side with a release of breath.

“Well?” he repeats, moving away so you can turn to face him.

“Nothin’ really,” you say with a shrug. “Except chores and lots of ‘em.”

He moves closer, his long fingers tugging at the red bandana around his neck as he pulls it free and wipes the back of his neck. Your eyes fall to the open buttons of his shirt, his tanned skin no longer obscured by the fabric.

“I’m sure I can keep ya’ busy with somethin’ other than chores this mornin’ darlin’.”

You tilt your head back and meet his eyes, your lips parted with your heavy breathing.

His heated gaze pins you in place as much as his body does when he closes the distance and presses you against the wall.

“So soft,” he murmurs as his hand grazes the curve of your waist.

You tentatively place your hands on his hard chest, spreading your fingers out and testing the feel of him.

They creep higher, dancing over his broad shoulders before wrapping around his neck.

You can feel how much he wants you and when his arms pull you closer, his hands gripping you tightly, he dips his head to press his lips to yours.

There’s no hesitation, no faltering, when he kisses you and there’s no doubt he’s in control. Your lips part for him and he deepens the kiss as his hands slide down to cup your ass, tugging you impossibly closer. You flex your hips against his and he makes a low, rough sound in his throat.

He pulls away abruptly and leans his forehead to yours, his warm breath caressing your skin as he tries to catch his breath.

When he carefully raises his hand to cup your cheek, you lean into his touch but then his fingers trail down the side of your neck, sliding lower until he’s toying with the buttons of your dress and you tremble with a sigh of his name.

“You’re trouble darlin’,” he croons, then his hand settles at the back your neck and he drags you in for another heated and desperate kiss.

His hands move over your body, stroking and teasing every inch of bare skin he can find. His mouth is warm and wet at your throat and then lower, tracing the outline of your collarbone before lingering at the swell of your breasts.

He lifts his head and brushes his lips to yours. “You taste even better than you look darlin’. And I would’ve sworn that was impossible.”

With his eyes on yours he slides his hand between your breasts, the motion torturously slow, until he meets the hem of your dress. He teases the fabric, dancing his fingers over your knee before drawing small circles along your inner thigh.

You press your body closer, your fingers sliding back down to his chest to grip his shirt and steady yourself.

His fingers move higher, his skin calloused and warm and scraping against your softness in perfect balance.

Your legs fall open and he smiles against your lips, keeping them just a whisper away as his fingers gently brush over your damp panties.

But at the feel of you so wet and ready he growls and nibbles your bottom lip and you don’t have a chance to suck in another breath before his mouth is on yours.  

His body is hard and uncompromising as the wall behind you and when he pulls at the fabric that rests on your hips you arch into him, tugging hard on his shirt.

He eases away from you and you nearly go with him. His hat is still on but it’s tipped precariously back and he stares as he slowly slides your panties down your legs.

The sound of an engine startles you both and before you can protest he tugs the fabric from your foot and grins before neatly folding it and sliding it into the back pocket of his jeans.

Your mouth parts in a gasp but you quickly straighten, pulling at your dress and smoothing your hands over yourself.

“Is lunch ready?” your father bellows from the barn door.

Joel steps away and you rush around him before your father sees you.

“Will be in just a few,” you answer as you pretend to be busy with the water pail.

“Ready for somethin’ to eat?” he asks Joel when he sees him.

“Sure am,” Joel replies. “Starved in fact.”

His eyes swing to you and they sparkle as the corner of his mouth lifts into a promising smirk.

You’re still plating the food when both men walk through the door and Joel removes his hat, hanging it on the rack to the side.  After washing up they sit and chat while you serve them lunch.

“Looks amazin’,” Joel raves as he takes a whiff of the steaming food.

“Girl knows how to cook a meal,” your father mutters through a mouthful.

“Aren’t you gonna join us?” Joel asks, giving you an expectant look.

“Oh I don’t usually…” you start to explain but your father interrupts.

“Now don’t be rude honey. Sit. Have somethin’ to eat,” he grumbles.

“Ok,” you say quietly and make yourself a plate.

As you approach the table Joel stands and pulls out the chair next to him, smiling and waiting for you to sit.

With wide eyes you give him a shaky smile in return with a quiet thanks.

The men continue to talk about the new parts and what else needs to be done on the farm and all the while you try to concentrate on the food in front of you but it’s almost impossible when you feel Joel’s warm hand settle on your thigh under the table.

His gently massages your leg, never missing a beat in the conversation and even doing his best to bring you into it.

“Do you like to ride?” Joel asks as he turns to face you.

You whip your head in his direction, giving him a confused look since you didn’t even know they had been talking about the horses, Joel’s touch too distracting.

“Ride?” you squeak.

“What’s going on wit you?” your father rumbles. “Didn’t you understand…?”

“It’s fine,” Joel says placatingly as he glares at your father then turns to you.

“Do you enjoy riding the horses?” he asks again softly.

“Yes. I love to. But I don’t often have much time to do it,” you say politely.

“She’s busy with her chores,” your father butts in and you clamp your mouth shut.

Joel gives your thigh a squeeze and you can see his teeth grind under the hard clench of his jaw.

Before anyone can say another word your father’s phone rings. He answers it with a gruff hello and stands from the table, walking out the front door and onto the porch.

“You know how hard it is to sit here and listen to him talk to you like that?” Joel seethes, bringing his lips close to your ear. “I have a right mind to knock him outta the chair.”

Even though his words are sweet his intent is predatory as his fingers move higher, your bare skin warm and silky.

“And don’t you worry darlin’, I’m gonna take you for the best ride of your life.”

“Joel,” you whimper.

“Mm, what’s the matter darlin’? You makin’ a mess of that chair?”  

The sound of the door makes you jump and your father pins you with a warning glare.

Joel’s hand stills but he doesn’t remove it.  

“I’ve gotta run back to town to pick something up. Should be back within the hour,” your father says to Joel.

“Make sure that pie is still warm for me when I get back,” he then says to you before stomping out the door.

Once you hear the gravel crunch under the tires of his pickup truck you fly from the chair, turning and leaning on the counter as you stare at Joel, your chest rising and falling rapidly.

He stands and walks toward you, his steps purposeful until he has you caged against the counter with his large body.

“Where are you runnin’ off to darlin’?”

“We can’t get caught,” you whisper. “He’ll kill you.”

“You don’t have to worry about me,” Joel simpers. “I can handle it.”

You open your mouth to protest but he firmly presses a finger to your lips.

“What I can’t handle,” he starts as he drops his finger and slides it down your chest and over your stomach, “is standing here another minute and knowing you got nothin’ on under this dress.”

When his finger reaches the hem he hooks it under and slowly starts to lift the fabric.

“I have to feel you…taste you, before I lose my damn mind,” he murmurs.

@sstan-hoe @pedritosdarling @laineyreads @lorilane33 @justkinsey @beccablogsthings @blackwidownat2814​ @littleseasiren​

[that-struggling-writer-lh]

A Flower For Every Secret Ch. 3 - Basket Flowers

Buckle up my friends because I was giggling and kicking my feet writing this.

WORD COUNT : 1885

WARNINGS: Extreme fluff, mutual pining. MINORS DNI. These guys are sickly in love I can feel it in my bones.

Pair the dancing scene with the song J's Lullaby by Delaney Bailey. ALL THE FEELS.

“You going to Colleen’s wedding tomorrow?” a voice piped from behind the glass window.

“Good morning to you, too. I’m not sure. I feel like it was a tentative invite because I’ve only been here like a month.” I looked up at Agent Carrillo through my lashes, phone on hold between my neck and ear. 

Joel hadn’t been home hardly all week. His truck always leaving at dawn and not back until late, Sarah begrudgingly following close behind him. Both of their clothes had been covered in sawdust several of those days.

He hadn’t acknowledged me much since the dinner he had invited me to, the only conversation being passing hello, how was your day? He didn’t have time to play in the streets with the neighborhood kids, much to the dismay of many parents who had to pay extra attention without Joel keeping watch of the street. He had mentioned a big job in the city, renovating an old shop front into a high-end bakery.

“Still nice to get to know people better, you’re kind of in your own world over here.” he shrugged, leaning past the barrier to peek at my desk space.

I covered the note I was writing, waiting to get it sent out to a patrol unit. A welfare check on an elderly woman, I hung up the line when I was confident my message went through, and sighed. “I don’t have a date. So I won’t know anyone, and I’ll be alone. You have a wife, Carrillo. You have a buffer.”

He seemed to consider, “Find one. I mean this in the most platonic way. You’re pretty. Someone would want to go with you, even if it’s some shitty blind date.”

I chewed the end of my pen gently, the only person that came to mind being the neighbor I’d been pining over for the last week, “I think there’s someone I can ask.”

Joel’s truck was surprisingly in the driveway when I pulled into the cul-de-sac, Sarah in the front yard with one of her friends, laying in the grass with a neatly folded fortune teller. They played the game with smiles on their faces, even from across the street I could hear the flip, flop, flap of the paper with the swish of their hands.

I tentatively walked across the street, “Hey, Sarah. Your dad home?” I questioned.

“In his office, just walk inside and let him know I said it's okay.” She looked away from me and smiled at her friend again, “Pick a number one through four.”

“Joel?” I called into the silent house, “Joel, it’s me, Sarah said to come in. I have to ask you something.”

A shuffling noise and a door opening came from down the hallway and Joel appeared, phone pressed to his ear, he motioned for me to follow, using his spare hand to silently shush me, “Again, it’s not possible with the current price of lumber, tools and extras. I gotta pay my guys, I gotta feed my kid. I’d love to continue offering the labor rate I had five years ago when I previously did work at your home, but I am a small business.” he was rolling his eyes, rolling up his long sleeved shirt to his elbows.

I watched him as he sat at an l-shaped desk, stuffed into a corner of the small room, a window directly in front of his chair. A few photos of him and Sarah framed, dusted. A tiny cactus potted, and neat stacks of binders with printed labels. Money In, Money Out, Project Portfolio, Current Client List and Job Sites, Employee Records/Handbook.

He pinched his brow, exhaling slowly so as not to let the person on the other end hear his frustration, “I offer very competitive rates, you won’t find someone cheaper than me right now, I don’t think. I’ve held off on raising prices again… I understand your frustration, times are changing for everyone. Yes, just let me know. I’d love to be of help to you, have a great weekend Bob.” he put the phone into its cradle and groaned aloud, “Sorry, Sweetheart.” he drawled as he spun on squeaky wheels to face me.

“Sarah let me in, I wanted to ask something pretty big of you this weekend. I understand if it's a no, I just have nobody else I’d like to ask.”

He pressed his elbow into the desk, resting his chin in his palm, “I’m all ears.” 

“There’s this… Thing.” I started, looking up at the ceiling.

He waited for me to continue, “Gosh, I’m nervous.” I huffed a laugh.

“Don’t be nervous, just ask.” he had started grinning at this point.

“The chief’s secretary is getting married tomorrow. I was a last minute invite, I wasn’t planning on going, but was given the option of taking a plus one and-” I froze, trying not to stammer over my words, “I was hoping that maybe you’d like to come. With me. As a favor. It doesn't have to be like…” I trailed off.

His ears turned a soft shade of pink and he looked out the window, now to the side of him, “Let me make a call.” he turned back to the phone and in moments, “Maria.” a pause, entirely too long as he stared directly in my eyes with the phone to his ear. I began wringing my hands together in anticipation. My heart thrumming wildly in my throat, “Nothing serious, just a favor.” he started, “I have uh… A date tomorrow… Need someone to feed Sarah dinner, make sure she’s okay.” he was chewing his lower lip nervously, that eye contact still unbreaking, “Of course,” he was grinning now, the pink in his ears flushing through his cheeks, “I really appreciate you guys. Thank you.”

The phone clicked back into its home on the desk, and Joel stood from his chair, “It’s a date.”

Joel promised to wear his best. Based on what I’d seen I’d hoped it was a little more than a blazer and nice pants. But he could show up in anything and I’d be happy just to hear his laugh again.

I wasn’t sure exactly what to label my feelings for my neighbor as, other than when I look at him it feels like the breath has been taken from my lungs for a moment. I spent all evening laying everything out, he promised to pick me up by three p.m for the four o’clock ceremony in the gardens of the event center. The reception would follow in a large barn. From what I had heard, Colleen’s family spared no expense. I opted to wear a lilac, solid colored dress that ended at my ankles, off shoulder sleeves and tulle underneath the skirts to plump up the whole thing, paired with silver heels. My hair in a french twist with pieces left out to frame my face, my makeup bright, blushy and glossy.

The knock at the door as I put an extra coat of lipgloss on and stuffed touchup stuff into my clutch almost sent me into a panic. I rushed to answer the door, careful not to trip over myself before opening the door. I was not prepared to see him look so- 

“Wow.” we said in unison, wide-eyed.

“You look-” we both started, 

“Handsome.”

“Perfect”

Joel really pulled it off. Hair neatly parted and slicked, facial hair trimmed. He sported a full tux, perfectly tailored. He offered me his arm and I graciously accepted, the cul-de-sac was bustling with life, but it was as if he was the only one there with me. Drowning out everything else in a haze of warm, woodsy cologne and perfect smiles. The warmth made each vein in his large, rough hand rise. It was nearly impossible to keep my eyes trained on any single spot of him. He cleaned up good.

He led me to his truck, opening the door and helping me up.

The ride was near silent, only the radio covering the thrumming of my chest. The nerves electrifying my every fiber.

He kept his hands off of me through the entirety of the ceremony, though our eyes often drifted to each other through the vows. The soft music.

The reception was dimly lit, candles gracing every surface they made sense on, baskets overflowing with blooms of every shade to mark doorways, placed on tables as centerpieces, a chandelier of candles with wildflower blooms laced in every spare beam. 

Joel was seated firmly beside me at a table full of strangers. Eventually his hand found a spot to rest on top of mine, our fingers tentatively lacing together. Both of us obviously nervous. It was different than last week on the walk back to my house from his. I was keenly aware of his every movement, the feeling of his skin. The flush of my face, and each beat of my hammering heart.

Eventually I heard the slow, soft guitar and words sung so softly it was like a private prayer.

Darling I’d wait for you

Even if you didn’t ask me to.

Tie a lasso around the moon

And bring it on down to you.

His eyes found mine again and he rose from his seat, keeping our fingers laced together, glancing around at the other couples slowly moving along to the beat, “Normally I’d say I have two left feet… But this time… Dance with me?”

It took a moment for the words to leave after the nod of confirmation, “Of course.” I whispered as he took me toward the middle of the room. One hand pressed into my lower back, bringing our waists together, his other holding mine so delicately I was sure I must be dreaming. The candlelight illuminated his face in a golden haze. Surely things like this are only in fairytales

Cause, Baby, when your arms are around me.

I’d swear that I’m holding the sun.

“Joel,” I started, “Thank you - for coming with me.” his eyes were so warm I could have melted in them.

“There isn’t a way I’d have missed something like this.” he squeezed his hand at my back, bunching up tulle and soft fabric.

You could have the stars and the trees.

When dividing up the universe.

My breath hitched as words failed me entirely; and my hand, pressed firmly onto his shoulder, loosened, slipping further up and around to the back of his neck, burying in the soft hair at his nape.

His brows furrowed, almost a question. Almost a hope. We studied each other as everything else fell around us. Deeper and deeper. Until all that remained on the crowded dance floor was Joel. Me. And the words of a lullaby.

Darling, I wish that you

Could give me some more time.

To herd the whole sky in my arms,

And release it when you’re mine.

At the same moment he leaned in, so did I. It was hardly even a kiss. More like a tentative brush, testing the waters before making a full swan dive in deep water. He pulled away only to look at me again for confirmation. I nodded and he sealed his lips to mine.

I’d put the beach in your backyard

In hopes to be enough for you to stay.

YOU GUYS PLEASE LET ME KNOW HOW YOU'RE LIKING THIS. If you're enjoying PLEASE comment that you'd like me to continue!

[fanfictilltheend]

@greensabereyesforcevictim invited me to share a line from my next door neighbor!joel x reader + jealous!Tess no apocalypse AU WIP so here we go!

For context, Tess is speaking first and is talking about Y/N:

“She’s not a little kid, Joel. She’s damn near 25 from what I recall. She doesn’t need to be looked after and babied.”

For a moment, Joel is silent and you're afraid he will realize she’s right and make you go home so they can fuck or whatever it is they do in their free time. But then he says so quietly you barely hear it,

“What? Are you jealous?”

“Fuck you, Joel!” Tess growls. “Fuck. You. You can suck your own dick for all I care. See you, Monday. Have fun with some little girl young enough to be your own fucking daughter.”

“Get out of my house, Tess,” Joel says dangerously.

 “Was already on my way.”

 And with that, you hear receding, stomping footsteps and the distant slam of the front door. You feel a huge hand rubbing your back protectively. You drift back off to sleep...

oooooooh mom and dad are fighting lol. Hope you liked it. Please let me know all comments give me life even the mean ones honestly!!!

EDIT: here’s part one of the final story

[theelizamanelli]

“Well, if it isn’t little Miss Elsie Mae,” a voice sounds from behind. I whip around slamming the drawer shut with a push of my body.  Joel Miller is leaning against the doorway, a bottle of Miller light in his hand as he raises it up to his lips and takes a swig.  “All grown up,” I say as a blush creeps up my neck and into my cheeks.  “What are ya doing up here on your lonesome?” he says as he pushes off the doorway and takes a few slow steps in my direction before whispering, “Behaving yourself I hope?” My breath hitches, my eyes widening at the prospect that he knows I looked in his underwear drawer. Or worse that he knows that I found the condoms hiding underneath. “Me?” sheepishly attempting to look anywhere but his eyes. “Someone was in the bathroom downstairs,” I gesture towards the open door to my right. “I didn’t think you would mind.” I finally look up at him on the last word, attempting to gauge whether he’s bought it.  “That fancy education didn’t teach you how to lie better than that, Red?” He drawls before taking another swig of his drink. His eyes never leaving my own. 

Elsie Mae has spent the entirety of her life protecting her little sister and keeping her alcoholic father out of trouble. After graduating from college, she never thought she would end up back in her hometown but when her Dad falls ill and refuses to tell Lettie she's forced home. The one saving grace of the summer is that her neighbor, Joel Miller, still lives three houses down and is as hot as ever. After a tipsy mistake at a barbecue, she finds herself striking a deal with Joel: don't tell anyone about the underwear incident and she'll tutor him for his GED. What she didn't sign up for was to pretend to be his girlfriend! Elsie poses as his beau under the condition that he owes her a few bullets off of "Elsie Mae's To Do Before Eighteen" bucket list. If she's going to have to sleep in her childhood bedroom again then she owes it to her seventeen year old self to do things the right way this time.

Rating: 18+, mature, sensitive topics

[pedrostylez]

Don't

pairing: Joel Miller neighbor!au x fem!reader

summary: No outbreak, not canon in the slightest, Joel Miller as your neighbor growing up. You've returned home from grad school for winter break and Joel sees you in the bar

rating: 18+ (no minors please)

word count:2k

warnings etc: No outbreak Joel, no Sarah, age gap (like maybe 10-15 years) mentioned but not defined, fingering, dirty talk, angst, anger, drinking, alcohol, and food mentions

A/N: I've set this up to be focused on the smut and angst as much as possible, but there is a back story if it is wanted...I just can't seem to keep things short if I give the whole shpeal ya know? Anyways, I'm nervous when I post anything Joel but we are going to just roll with it.

“You’ve got to be kidding me, darlin’.” He groaned, shutting the door with his foot as he pushed you into the bathroom. 

The bar was dark, humid with the growing crowd of older men just getting off their shifts to have a couple drinks with their friends. You saw Joel when he walked in, t-shirt splattered with black tar and arms dusted with dry concrete as he stepped up to the counter and asked for a whiskey. 

You didn’t really expect him to see you in the corner with your friends, who were all fixed on finding someone for you to go home with. They had been up your ass about finding someone for you, watching you cry over your previous boyfriend in the dorm room until you ran home to sulk there. 

It had been easy to find comfort in Joel when you returned home. 

And when he locked eyes with you after hearing your one friend laugh too loud, his neutral expression grew dark before taking another sip of his drink, turning to his coworker, and continuing his conversation. He was a master at ignoring you.

But now he was in front of you after following you to the bathroom, locking the door behind him. Feeling like a cornered animal, palms sweating with anticipation of what Joel might say to you, you tried controlling your heartbeat. 

“What?” You said just above a whisper, glancing at him and then turning around to the mirror. 

He scoffed, rolling his eyes at you and leaning against the door. “You can’t just come to the bar I’m at.”

You shrugged, picking at your nails for a moment before reaching into your purse. “I got here first. And I didn’t know you would be here; Shelby picked the place, not me.” You say quickly, pulling out a chapstick and looking in the mirror at yourself. 

This wasn’t the club like at school, you didn’t have much to fix about your appearance. You weren’t even really all that drunk, only a couple drinks sipped on while your friends chatted away and pointed out people they thought were your type. You had only come because you knew Joel frequented here. You could be done quickly with applying your chapstick and checking your hair, but Joel made you want to take your time. 

Joel stepped up behind you, looking at you in the mirror as one hand ghosted down your arm. You shivered at the feeling, pulling away slightly before subconsciously leaning backward into him. “We shouldn’t have done what we did.” He amends, locking eyes with you through the mirror and pulling his hand away. He lets you lean on him, his slow breaths expanding his chest and brushing against your shoulders. 

You look down at your purse, picking yourself upright and away from him in an attempt to feign further innocence. You really weren’t the planner of this-you just didn’t tell your friends no when they were suggesting the bar. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Joel.”

You snapped your eyes up to him quickly to watch for his reaction. His jaw clenched for a moment before a small smirk climbed up his cheeks. “So we’re on the same page then darlin’.” He drawls, tilting his head around to look at your face. “Nothing can happen again.” 

Your breath hitched as his hand hidden from the counter squeezed at your hip, turning to look at him fully. If he was going to say nothing could happen again, you were going to pretend it didn’t happen at all. You stood your ground. “Nothing happened to begin with Joel.” 

Like a faulty lightbulb in your dad’s garage, Joel’s face blinked from satisfied to annoyed quickly, trying to control his emotions. “You sure you want to act that way darlin’? Instead of just admitting that we shouldn’t have done it?” He doesn’t wait for your reply as he spins you, pushing you to sit on the counter and allow him to slip between your thighs. “Acting like I didn’t fuck you? Is that easier for you?” 

You closed your eyes at his brashness, fingers tightening around the strap of your purse. He was the one that said it shouldn’t happen again. He was the one that was upset you were in the bar with him. He was the one–

“Open your eyes,” Joel says softly, breaking you out of your thoughts and slowly lifting your eyelashes up to him. His face is still stern, but his stare widened as if he wonders what you’re thinking. “You have to stop.” He breathed across your cheek, hand reaching up to slide his fingers through your hair.

You sigh out “I’m not doing anything,” as his fingers curl, pulling at your locks. Your head is tilted back, heart thrumming with anticipation of what he is going to do. Your next inhale is all Joel–dirt and sweat and the malt whiskey on his breath, maybe some of that shampoo you left at his house a couple weeks ago. 

“Don’t act like we didn’t.” He confirms, pulling your head to the side to expose your neck. “Even though it was wrong, darlin’. I don’t think I can stand for you just pretending it didn’t happen. Does that make it easier for you?” He is mumbling against your neck, lips brushing the sensitive skin behind your ear. 

You barely nod, wanting to lean into his mouth, to let him mark you. But you know you can’t-not after the falling out you and Joel had when he told you it can’t happen again. “It didn’t happen.”

You feel more than hear the growl that bubbles out of his throat, the way he quickly presses his lips to your neck and sucks into your skin to leave a blooming red mark has you wincing. His intention is clear; to make you always remember him, even if it hurts you. 

A big part of you is willing to let it happen. 

His fingers are sliding down your stomach, the friction from your shirt onto your skin leaving a blazing trail. The humidity in the small bathroom seems to increase as his finger sticks to the now exposed skin just above your pants button. 

Joel pauses long enough to have your eyes flicking to his, biting the inside of your lip to see if he is going to pull away. His eyes crinkle with his smirk, fingers fully dipping into your jeans and forcing open the button and zipper. 

He passes the back of his index over your slit, hot on your skin as he shushes you when you gasp. “You’re okay baby, just wet for me, huh?” He waits for your response, wiggling his finger back and forth to make you squirm away from him. His other hand pressed into your hip pulls you closer, urging you to stay put. “Don’t move away from me.”

You sigh, shutting your eyes tightly to hold back a moan at just the connection. You’ve been wanting to reach out to Joel ever since he told you it couldn’t happen again but held back with the hopes that he would make the first move. Now here you were, desperate for his touch. “Please, Joel.”

Joel pulls his hand from your waistband, yanking down your jeans to your knees before pressing his fingers back to you. Now the pad of his thumb is over your clit, sliding down to your hole to collect the wetness you’ve left and bringing it back. “Don’t pretend that this didn’t happen. It’s the best thing you’ve had.” Joel growls out, pressing harder on your clit. 

He’s not asking for a response, but you’re nodding at him anyway to let him know that he is, in fact, the best you’ve had. You feel light headed when he leans forward to connect his lips to yours, swiping his tongue over your bottom lip hungrily before pushing his way into your mouth. 

You swear he’s only kissed you to keep your moans at bay as he pushes two fingers into you at once, pausing once he has them completely surrounded by your fluttering walls. “So needy, darlin.” He sighs, beginning the slow pump of his hand, thumb going back to circling your clit. 

You groan in frustration at his words, wanting him to stop teasing you. But it’s like he has read your mind, bringing the hand that was keeping your hips from moving up to your jaw, wrapping tightly around your neck to keep you focused on him. “I know baby, I know. I’ll let you finish, don't worry.” 

It continues like this, his fingers pumping into you, his thumb circling your clit, your hips meeting his hand with an obscene wet sound that has your eyes rolling in the back of your head. Joel’s mouth is agape, watching your face while his breath fans over your chin. He won’t let up, keeps encouraging you.

That’s it sweetheart.

So good for me, aren’t you?

You aren’t allowed to forget me this time. 

Fuck, you’re so wet for me darlin’.

You reach your hand forward to dig into his forearm around your neck, your orgasm apparent and on the edge of letting go. Joel knows, smiling at you and leaning down again to connect his lips with yours like he knew the sweeter contact that he has deprived you of would make you tip over. 

He bites down on your lip as you feel your vision cave in, black surrounding you to the point that you have to close your eyes and try to breathe through it, hearing Joel groan and push his fingers all the way in and hold you in his hand. 

When the fog has lifted, his fingers still inside you, he pops off your mouth and releases your neck slowly. “Careful, darlin’.” He murmurs, holding you by the side of your neck as you lean toward him unconsciously. 

You blink at him, whining as he slowly removes his fingers from you and brings them to his lips, and sucks on them. He keeps his eyes locked on yours as they trail down from his tongue, wiping them on the hem of his shirt. 

He watches you for a moment, chest heaving and adjusting himself before stepping away. It is suddenly cold in this bathroom, the lights too blue, the tile too white. “No more.” He sighs, running the same hand that was just inside you through his hair. Something deep in your gut warms at the thought that he won’t know why he still smells of you later. “We can’t keep doing this.”

You scoff, hopping off the counter and holding on to the edge with white knuckles, hoping to not wobble in front of him. He reaches for you anyway, and you bat at his hand. “You followed me in here, Joel.” You turn back around to the mirror, glancing at him quickly before fixing your hair. There is an obvious glow to you, flushed and not fully put together, but you would pretend. “I’m allowed to be in the bar you’re in.”

Joel sighs, shaking his head and rubbing his neck. He looks stressed, regretful. “I’m too old for you.”

“Fine.” You snap, turning back to him. “Then let me move on how I want.”

He rolls his eyes at you, tilting his head. “What? You’re going to go cry to the other neighbor John then? Let him fuck you next?”

You feel tears prick your eyes at his assumption, but anger flushes your skin as you shove past him and out the door. You don’t owe him an explanation, and you sure as hell aren’t going to defend your case. 

You already have, and that’s the real problem. This conversation has been in circles with Joel all of winter break, and you’re tired of it. You step to move to the main part of the bar from the bathroom hallway when Joel has wrapped his fingers around your arm, pulling you back to him. “I didn’t mean it-”

You snarl at him, making his eyes go wide, hand dropping your arm. You put your hand out, creating space between you. “Don’t.” You say quietly, firmly, before turning back around and heading over to your friends to let them know you were leaving. 

You weren’t going to stick around for Joel’s sorry excuse this time. 

[loliwrites]

The One You Need | two

🎶 I spent most my life thinkin' love was out of reach, so maybe just this once, you could be the one I need, if you let me be the one you need 🎶

pairing: neighbor!joel miller x f!reader  rating: explicit, 18+ minors dni  summary: when you move into town hellbent on keeping everyone at an arm’s length, your neighbor Joel finds his way into your life. warnings/tags: au, neighbor joel, age gap [reader is late 20s/early 30s, Joel is late 40s], hyper-independent reader, a bit of a misandrist mindset, past relationships, men vs boys, sexual tension, dubcon [tagging to be safe] [slight alcohol consumption but neither is drunk], verbal consent received, reader described as female, no other physical description, protective!joel, soft!joel, dare i say ei!joel, no use of y/n. word count: 6.1k part one | joel miller masterlist  a/n: i’ve done my best to tag as thoroughly as possible, but if you think i’ve missed something, let me know. & tagging @hausofobsession because charlie's the best

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

It had been three and a half weeks since move in day and a few things had become abundantly clear about your new surroundings.

1. Having your own place rocked. You did what you wanted. You answered to no one. If you wanted to have a one person dance party at two in the morning, you did. No downstairs neighbors hollered and banged on their ceiling – your floor. You could paint the walls whatever color you wanted and tear up the flooring if you had the impulse to. Nothing ever again had to be “renter friendly” .

2. Having your own place was a lot of work. There were any number of things that seemed to break, leak, or hang crooked on any given day and instead of ringing up a landlord and complaining, you could only complain to yourself… And then figure out how to fix the broken, leaky, or wonky thing. And it boggled your mind how dust and grime seemed to manifest out of nothingness. Rooms you don’t even remember stepping foot into had somehow acquired a thin film of dust. You were constantly cleaning something or fixing something, and in the most unfortunate of times, your cleaning of something resulted in you also needing to fix it. If anything, owning a home had reinforced to you that you were indeed the man in your life.

3. Joel Miller was practically the mayor of the neighborhood. Everyone knew him. It was impossible to spend any amount of time in the yard and not be bombarded with Joel Miller, Joel Miller, Joel Miller. While he wasn’t particularly outgoing, he seemed to be there when someone needed help. Whether it was Mrs. Cole with her grocery bags or the young, single mother next door to him who needed someone to put her son’s basketball hoop together. He was an everyman. And though he had helped you in a big way on your first day as part of the neighborhood, you’d spent the past few weeks dodging him as much as possible. 

4. And lastly, you needed his help again. At some point during the week, a foul odor had wafted through the entirety of your home. And short of thinking an animal had crawled up and died within the walls, you began scouring the house with as much disinfectant as your sense of smell would allow. Every inch of every room was scrubbed down, and when that still didn’t get rid of the odor, you figured it was time to call an exterminator. Dehydrated, hungry, and about to snap, you opened the refrigerator and was punched in the face by warm, smelly air that burned your nose more than the disinfectant. Ah, the source. 

How long the fridge hadn’t been working, you didn’t know. What you did know was that all the perishables – namely the dairy products – had certainly perished. And after three hours on the phone with a local handyman you’d found online, his ultimate advice was, “get a new refrigerator”. On a normal day, that was easily said and done. You would’ve ordered one the same day and gotten it delivered the next. Only, you’d spent the week prior throwing an obscene amount of money at new furniture to fill the oodles and oodles of empty space you now found yourself inhabiting.

You had genuinely thought about asking Joel for help that same day. At least to get the fridge out of the house because you were sure the smell wouldn’t leave until the entire appliance did. But when you looked out your window, his truck wasn’t in his driveway. And it didn’t arrive back until late that night. There was no way you were going to burden him so late, so you cracked some windows and told yourself you’d ask him in the morning. But the next morning when you Houdini’d yourself out of bed and made a pot of coffee, his truck was already out of the driveway again. An hour and a half later of throwing everything out and deep cleaning it, the fridge didn’t nearly smell as bad. And after a while, you kind of just let it be.

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Saturday. A day of rest. Except you were standing on Joel’s porch, curling your hand into a fist to rap your knuckles against his door, about to ask him to do a little work. A shred of guilt was growing inside of you. Yes, he had said to reach out if you needed something. He’d been nothing but neighborly. But you knew what you were doing. The thing where you use a boy for your gain but have nothing to offer in return. 

Joel opened his front door, breathing a little heavier than normal with a sheen of sweat over his face and down his neck. He appeared to be completely clothed, but whether or not you’d caught him in a state of undress and he threw this on, you had no idea. From what you’d observed by peeking out your front window, the single mother that lived next door to him seemed to have a little bit of a crush. Perhaps that crush was reciprocated on his end.

“Sorry, am I interrupting something?” You squinted your eyes shut and partially shielded them with your hand.

“What?” He looked down at himself, tugging on his shirt, “no, I just got in from doing yard work out back.” Joel took a deep breath and slowly let it exhale. He remembered when he could be working hard all day and not even feel it. Now there were days when he went up the stairs in his house and got winded. “How ya’ doin?”

“Good, I… I need your help again,”

Joel grinned, something cheeky that you wanted to slap right off his face.

“Don’t look too excited about it. My fridge is on the fritz and it’s too heavy for me to move,”

There was a part of him that wanted to bring to attention that this was the second time in less than a month that you were coming to him for help. Ultimately he thought better of it. The hard line of your lips and narrowness of your eyes clued him in that you were waiting to rebuke anything he might say. Instead he disappeared from the doorway, leaving you utterly confused, only to return a minute later with an old metal toolbox in hand. He stepped out onto the porch and pulled the door shut behind him.

“No, it’s not getting fixed. I’m getting a new one,”

He quirked his eyebrows and looked down at you, “that fridge is only three years old.” He stepped off his porch and started toward your house.

You took a few quick steps to catch up with him, falling in line and then keeping up that pace to stay even with him. It did look like a fairly modern make. “How do you know that?”

“‘Cause I helped Mrs. Wilson get it in her house three years ago. I’d told her to get that fridge because I knew it’d last. Now unless you or Mrs. Wilson did something on it that it’s not meant for, it should still be perfectly fine.”

“What’re you implying?”

Joel shot a wink in your direction, “you have any male suitors over lately? Get a little frisky in the kitchen over dinner?”

Your jaw dropped as you followed Joel up your porch steps. “No! You can see my house from your house. You know I haven’t had anyone over,”

“I don’t spy on my neighbors.” He walked through your door after you’d opened it for him, “are you spyin’ on me?”

“No, I’m not,” you protested, leading him into the kitchen and directing him toward the problem appliance. “But I do know that next-door neighbor of yours, fancies you,”

“Fancies me?”

“Mhm. She twirls her hair every time she talks to you,”

Joel set the toolbox down on the counter and angled his body at the fridge, “does she now?” He wrapped his arms around it, fingers gripping to the sides, and began to shimmy the entire thing out from its little cubbyhole.

The whole display was rather impressive. Despite actively not yearning or searching for a relationship, acts of masculinity did get you going. It was the double-edged sword that lived inside you. Boys – can’t live with them; can’t live without them. Just because you couldn’t rely on men, didn’t mean the desire to sleep with them wasn’t there. But even you knew, that under no circumstances, were you to sleep or have any sort of sexual contact with Joel Miller. Even if he was a rugged display of masculinity. With sinewy muscles that strained beneath his skin when he flexed them. And fingers that surely knew how to wrap around more than just the handle end of a hammer. He was your neighbor. You weren’t going to shit where you ate. But by God if he didn’t look like a delicious meal. 

It’s the reason you picked up so quickly on the tell-tale signs of attraction by Little Miss Next Door Neighbor. She was looking at him the way all women did when they wanted to be swept up by a man. They wanted to be handled, and led, and submissive. Something you could never be. To a man? Absolutely not. 

This argument you were having with no one but yourself was interrupted when Joel called your name with a tone that indicated to you it wasn’t the first or second time he was calling it. You blinked and focused your eyes, finding he was only partially visible – most of him being shrouded by the fridge that he now stood behind.

“S’not working because it’s dirty. Do you have a handheld vacuum?”

Approaching him, you contorted your body around it to sneak a peek at what he was looking at. “It stopped working because it’s dirty?”

“Could be somethin’ faulty inside, but the condenser coils and gasket seals are a mess. My guess is it’s just that,”

“I called some handyman and he told me I needed a brand new fridge,”

Joel peeked his head out to look at you, “why you callin’ some random handyman when you got one ‘cross the street?”

You crossed your arms over your chest, “I was going to but you worked weird hours this week and were never home when I looked out my window.”

“So you are spying on me,” he chuckled. “That’s why you’re jealous of Kelly,”

“Who’s jealous?!” It wasn’t lost on you that your voice rose about an octave or two higher than your normal register. You were sure Joel clocked that, too. “I’m just making sure you know she’s got a big ol’ schoolgirl crush on you,”

“She doesn’t ‘cause we’ve gone out before and it wasn’t a match.”

“Does she know that?” 

“I’d say she does,”

You smirked, having a little fun poking the bear. “How do you know?”

“Because when a woman gets naked and propositions a man for sex, and he says no, it’s usually a pretty definitive sign.”

“Yeah, right,” you laughed incredulously, “no man looks at a woman who’s ready to fuck and says no to her.”

“This man does,” he looked you dead in the eyes and held your gaze. “You got a vacuum?”

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The resoluteness of Joel’s answer had honestly come as a shock. It was something you knew you’d want to circle back on at some point simply because of how insane it seemed. A straight guy turning down sex from a woman? He had to have been the first man in history to do so. The thought kept you busy while your refrigerator kept him busy. Coincidentally, you both became significantly less busy around the same time.

“It works again?”

Joel plugged the fridge back into the wall and stepped out from behind it. He wiped his hands in a rag you’d brought out for him, which just happened to be one of your old, white t-shirts. He didn’t seem to care. Or notice. “Gotta give it a few minutes. See if it’s gettin’ cold,'' he looked up at you, noting how you began to get a little more fidgety, looking around. He wasn’t sure why; perhaps just itching to get him out of your house. “You got any food for dinner?”

“Yeah,” you said half-heartedly, thinking about how you were about to endure yet another day of some sad, canned soup. “I can whip up a can of something,”

He shook his head and waved you off, “come by tonight. I’ll fix you a meal,”

“You just fixed my fridge.”

“Maybe,” he smiled.

“I should be cooking you a meal,”

He shook his head vehemently, “I haven’t eaten chicken noodle soup since I was about nine, and I don’t aim to start up again.” He pulled open the fridge door, set his hands on one of the shelves and decided it was slightly colder than it had been just a couple minutes prior. “It should be good to go now,” he loaded up his toolbox and locked it up. “Swing by around seven. If you stand me up, I’m coming back over here and breaking the damn thing,”

“Joel,”

“Seven.”

With that, he was out before you could protest again. Somehow both of you knew you’d be showing up to his house that night. Annoyance bubbled up at your surface with the realization that not only did you know you weren’t going to disobey him, but he knew it too. The few hours between him leaving and you showing back up on his porch for dinner had been spent sulking. Whatever this was becoming – you weren’t sure what just friendship looked like with a boy because no single, unattached boy you’d ever met only wanted friendship – was getting to be too much. There needed to be a line drawn in the sand. You needed to draw the line in the sand. And more importantly, after the line was drawn, you and Joel needed to be securely on opposite sides of it.

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But curse this man and his ability to put ideas in your head. Horrible, awful, domestic ideas. The sorts of ideas that made you think this image of him: on the back porch with a beer in one hand and a pair of tongs in the other, a dish towel slung over his shoulder for quick access, flipping over and inspecting a couple steaks, chewing on his bottom lip as he pondered how close to medium they were getting… was an image you could get used to seeing.

It was how all boys in the past had gotten you.

They wooed you with their little acts here and there of masculinity. Or their wit. Or just cute looks. They made you believe that they were different. That they were honest, and open, and evolved. And you’d get sucked in and follow the white rabbit down the hole. For a while it’d all be good. You would actually believe that you had found an evolved man that you could coexist with and be happy. But after the momentary bliss, you’d come to realize that the wool had been pulled over your eyes. You’d been deceived and lied to. The boy could not manage his own emotions, let alone understand yours. You’d sit in the anger that you betrayed your sense of self to make room for this boy, and only when you’d talked yourself far enough off the ledge, you’d explode like a time bomb. Afterwards, a tiny piece of you would be the only thing left to go around picking up all the other little fragments of yourself. And you’d put yourself back together with tape and a promise that you wouldn’t ever allow another to break you like that again. That is, until another boy found his way to you and made you think he was different. And thus the cycle continued.

“You have family out here?” Joel looked up from the barbecue and took a sip of his beer while he waited for you to answer.

Taking a step forward and buying some time by swigging down a gulp of your beer, you shook your head. “They’re all in California still. Just had to get away. What about you?”

He nodded and closed the grill, “Sarah’s a few hours away at school and her mom’s ‘bout a half hour away. But my brother’s here. I work with him actually,”

“You must be close with him,”

Joel nodded absently.

“But no wife for Joel Miller,” you smiled, half-hidden by your bottle. “I take it no girlfriend either since apparently you don’t like getting laid,”

He laughed. It was the first real, hearty laugh you’d heard from him. It seemed to shake his whole body and he opened the grill back up and plucked the steaks off it, depositing them on an awaiting plate. “I like getting laid. It might be my favorite thing to do,”

“That’s why I think you’re full of shit. Turning down, what’s her name…”

“Kelly…”

“You’re telling me,” you approached Joel slowly, got right up close to him, and dragged a delicate finger over one of his shoulders and down his bicep to prove a point. “A woman… an attractive woman, I’d say… stripped down in front of you, told you to have your way with her, and you said no thanks,”

Joel watched your finger. His tongue poked out of his mouth quickly to lick his lips before he flashed his eyes back to you, obviously finding great pleasure that his gaze in this close proximity made you avert your own eyes downward. “Exactly,”

You half-smiled and shook your head as you took a step back, “bullshit.”

He shut off the grill and scooped the plate up. “Explain to me why you think that’s bullshit,” he meandered past you and pulled his back door open, allowing you the chance to walk in first before he followed you in.

Instinctively, you progressed into the kitchen, where two stools at the counter were awaiting with place settings. You perched in one while Joel set the steaks down by you and continued to the oven where he pulled out a tray of roasted vegetables. “Because you’re a guy,”

“Man,” he corrected and started placing food on your plate.

“A man,” you mocked. When he finished giving you food and moved onto his, “thank you. And men don’t do that. They chase pleasure. They get their dick wet and they move on down the line, leaving a path of destruction in their wake,”

This time, Joel waited to respond until he was seated next to you. He clinked his bottle against yours, “thanks for coming over.”

“To be honest, I was actually afraid you’d blow up my fridge and I can’t really afford a new one right now,”

“But I’m gonna have to disagree with you,” he focused on his plate and cut into his steak. Seemingly pleased with the degree with which it was cooked, he took a first bite. “Men don’t only care, as you so delicately put, about getting their dick wet.”

“Joel, come on, you know…”

“Boys do. For sure. A boy would look at you, a beautiful woman, and see a direct path to his pleasure. Absolutely. And a boy probably wouldn’t care too much about whether or not you were getting as much out of it as he was. ‘Cause he’s getting his, right?”

You nodded, silently pushing a mixture of steak and veggies into your mouth, enraptured with where he was going to take this conversation. And slightly unable to concentrate past the point of having heard him call you beautiful. 

“Men don’t do that. A man would look at you and see that yes, you’re a beautiful woman. But he’d also see that you’ve got a helluva brain, and you’re witty, and funny, and more than a little stubborn. He’d see that you hold yourself and everyone else to a high standard, and he’d want to meet it. And when he slept with you, he’d want to make sure you were getting more out of it than he was,”

Awe-struck was the only word to describe how you felt. Was a guy actually verbalizing everything you already believed? That there was a difference between boys and men. And that most guys thought they were men simply because of their age, when you knew age meant nothing in defining a man. 

Joel took a deep breath and finished off his beer, “I turned Kelly down because I knew if I slept with her I’d be taking on a lot more than I wanted to with her. And despite whatever your experience with men might be, this one’s not out to leave a path of destruction behind him.”

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What were these complicated feelings inside of you? Someone who prided themselves on being emotionally intelligent and level-headed and yet… you were spinning like a top. On the one hand you wanted to keep everyone a safe arm’s length away, and on the other you wanted Joel to scale the walls you’d constructed and fortified around yourself. For a long time there was an odd sense of accomplishment at how tall and strong you’d managed to build them. Look at how good they were at keeping people out. But now there was someone in front of you that you thought you wanted to let in – only in constructing your walls, you never put in a gate. And that ribbon of apathy, and the moments of enduring loneliness, maybe it was all self-inflicted.

Who knew how to hurt you better than you?

The beer helped dull those thoughts. Finishing off the second as the conversation meandered through Joel’s last relationship. A topic that would’ve given you supreme pause, and yet he recounted it with ease as if he were just a court reporter, tasked with jotting down the facts. He even acknowledged his role in the dissolution of that relationship. His eyes seemed to glaze over and travel to a distant land as he described all the ways he didn’t measure up. How he was never quite what that woman wanted. And how he had no idea how to become what she wanted. On the flip side, he admitted she’d started off as someone that only saw the moon with him. She’d kept some nights from being too cold and lonely. Only when a certain amount of time passed, did she speak up and sort of declare a relationship was there. 

That conversation ended when a third bottle was grabbed for each and moved to the living room. Both on the couch, you with your back pressed up against one of the arm’s of it. Your knees bent with feet planted securely on the cushion. And Joel sitting as close as he could with your legs creating a physical boundary between you. Even his thigh covered your toes, as if seeing how close to the boundary he could get. Despite feeling like this was someone you wanted to let through your walls, however temporarily, your brain still managed to cut off any inkling from your heart – using your body as the vehicle to keep everyone at bay.

“Hmm?” Joel hummed and grabbed your attention back to the present. “‘S’not fair leaving me hanging after I just spilled all my gory relationship details. What about yours?”

You shook your head, trying to appear innocent, “there’s not much to say.”

“Say anything,”

Staring at him, you took a deep breath and a generous sip of your new beer. Then feeling on the good side of buzzed, you stretched forward to move for the coffee table. Seeing your plight and the awkwardness of the angle given that you weren’t inclined to lower your legs to make the action smoother, Joel leaned forward, gently took the bottle from your hands and set it on the table for you.  

“He was nice at the start. A bit older than me. I thought it meant we’d be on the same wavelength for once, y’know? That he’d outgrown the frat boy, tool bag phase and moved into a more evolved one. It got physical quick and it was… awful.” You glanced down at your hands, remembering for the first time in a while about what sleeping with that guy felt like – a trial run with hari-kari, complete and self-inflicted betrayal.

With your pause and sensing obvious discomfort, Joel reached across his body and got a loose grip on your shin. He gave it a soft squeeze that felt like permission to stop if you were so inclined. But it didn’t hurt like it used to; as if you had been able to remove yourself from the equation and were now just recounting the plot of some terrible film you’d seen once.

Shrugging and with a half-smile he couldn’t place, you looked back up at Joel, “he had a good time.”

“Was it ever good for you?” He mumbled as though he didn’t actually want to hear the answer. And because you hadn’t reacted in any way to his hand on your shin, he took a chance and used that grip to lower your leg across his lap.

“No, but I’m a helluva actress.”

He raised his eyebrows and absently took hold of your other leg and lowered that one across his lap, too. Now the literal barrier you’d put between you had been carefully circumvented. “He never stopped to figure it out?”

You shook your head, “he was getting his, Joel. See, it’s hard to figure out when you’re dealing with a boy. They hide it well,”

Joel reached forward and set his half-empty beer next to yours on the coffee table. When he reclined back to his previous position, his hands migrated to your feet and squeezed them with a familiarity of an old married couple who’d been practicing this dance for decades.

“It ended two and a half years ago, so a distant memory,”

He only nodded. You thought he’d have something about that. Something like what’ve you been doing for two years without a man. But maybe he figured you were doing just fine. Probably better. So he only squeezed your feet again before his hands migrated a little further north to your knees, fingers just barely dipping between your thighs that you’d managed to keep pressed together. Finally he asked:

“No fillers in the meantime?”

It made you laugh. Any number of innuendo could be applied to his question. It was also at this point that you felt your resolve fading. The will to keep him at bay becoming less of a conscious effort. “No fillers. Not really my style,”

“Not a one night stand kinda girl?” He smirked and shot a playful glance at you. There was no chance he was unaware that the press of your thighs together had lessened. Any further action of his hand would’ve resulted in him going wherever he wanted, however he wanted. But he didn’t. His hand remained where it was, gaining no further purchase and adding no extra pressure.

“Would you be if sex was never good for you?”

He chuckled and threw his head back against the couch, “fair enough.” He shook his head, absently staring at the ceiling. Only when he’d gathered his thoughts and words did he shift his gaze back to you. “People are simple creatures,” there was a slight pause and though you opened your mouth to refute that, he continued first. “I mean the biology part. It’s not hard to get a woman off,”

“Okay, hotshot. Let me go get a horn for you to toot a little louder,”

He grinned widely, showing off nearly every tooth in his mouth. The look made you smile as well – like a kid getting caught opening presents before Christmas. “There’s a lot of hard tasks in this world,” he pursed his lips and shrugged, “making a woman come isn’t one of them.”

The heat you’d felt rising in your chest and neck after he’d successfully moved your mattress into your bedroom was returning. Only this time, you felt it settle in your cheeks, and you wondered if he was aware of it. Your eyes were glued to him, wide, trying to pick up on as much visual information they could get. What you found was Joel adding the slightest of pressure between your knees to spread your thighs just enough for him to pivot on the couch and face you squarely.

You swallowed down a lump in your throat, eyes flicking over the sight of him: the way graying curls moved across his forehead, or the way his eyes never left yours. Not even for a second. Not even when he was positioning himself closer to you, kneeling back on his shins with his thighs nudging yours upward at an angle. He smiled softly, a gentle thing that instantly put you at greater ease, and leaned in closer to you, planting his hands on the couch on either side of your chest.

“Can I kiss you?” His focus wandered down to your lips when they parted. 

In all your years of life, no one had ever asked that, and it took you aback, scrambling to make sense of the English you believed you were fluent in. But you nodded quickly and assumed that would’ve been the green light. Probably would’ve for most people, but as you were coming to learn, Joel wasn’t quite like most people.

He smiled and bowed his head, taking a breath to gather himself. In the meantime, his hair was close to your nose and the muskiness of his scent was everything you thought and wanted it to be. He raised his head and looked at you again, his eyes practically pleading. “Can we make that verbal?”

“Yes,” you exhaled. But when it didn’t result in his lips meeting yours with haste, you tried again. “Kiss me,”

Like a fire ignited under him, Joel closed the rest of the gap between you. Hands drifting to your cheeks, he cupped your head with the most practiced of ease and pressed his mouth to yours, first with closed lips to test the waters before the next action was the parting of his lips on yours. His tongue searched for entrance into your mouth, finding it when a soft breath was exhaled.

While trying not to talk yourself out of this moment, you also tried to think about the last time you’d been kissed like this. Or kissed at all, period. But like this, with want, and desire, and passion. Like all of Joel was made for this exact moment: to kiss you with the intention of every fiber of his being; to make your brain go foggy and blur out everything that did not add to this need. It was as if he could sense you slipping away from him, focused elsewhere instead of letting yourself buy into this, and he recaptured you with a soft bite to your lower lip. He re-positioned his hands; one at the side of your neck and jaw, and the other gripping onto your hip, adjusting you further until your ass was pressed up against his crotch. 

He forced himself to pull back, slight enough to be able to speak but still close enough to press his forehead against yours. “Stay with me. Don’t go somewhere else,” 

Your instinct was to protest, that you weren’t about to leave, but realized he’d picked up on the thing you were wondering about. The thing no guy had ever picked up on, or cared to, before. The distance your brain was willing to create between itself and your body.

“Joel,” you whispered, sounding slightly more needy than you would’ve hoped. 

“I know,” he murmured back. His hand ditched your hip for a split second and took hold of your wrist. Led it up over his shoulder and to the back of his neck, until the backs of your fingers brushed along the ends of his hair. Without fail, you softly clutched into it. “Stay with me. Right here,” his hand went back to your hip and your lips reconnected. Open-mouthed with his tongue pressing into yours. He tilted his head to the side and groaned into your mouth, sending a vibration down your throat, past your chest, through your stomach, and straight to your core.

You hummed back into his mouth, for once closing your eyes and letting yourself live in the feeling his lips could administer. The heat that had already been living in your cheeks seemed to amplify with the size of him around you. His broad shoulders meeting a wide chest that seemed to dwarf you. Large hands that effortlessly cupped around your hip or engulfed your cheek. He was everywhere at once and when he ducked his head lower to kiss your neck, landing a love bite on your jugular, it took extra measures to keep yourself grounded and there for him.

Your hand slowly released the hair at the nape of his neck, and slid down over his shoulder to his chest, followed the seam at the side of his t-shirt until your fingertips reached the hem at the bottom. With fingers tucking beneath the fabric and meeting the skin at his oblique, you felt him exhale a hot breath against your neck, his hips shifting beneath you. As you ran your hand north, you took stock of the muscles your fingers passed, and how while still present and firm, they’d grown less pronounced with age. A softness to his body that he’d earned the right to after years of hard labor. Or so you assumed by the feeling of calloused hands on you. 

Gauging what you wanted from him as your hands worked their way upward, pushing his shirt up with them, he groaned not wanting to take his lips off your neck, but doing so anyway to sit back. With a swift motion, he tugged his shirt over his head and tossed it to the floor unceremoniously. He wiped his hand down over his mouth and shook his head as if in disbelief as he pressed his hands back into the couch on either side of you, “god, you’re fucking gorgeous.”

His eyes danced their way over every feature on your face as if trying to commit them to memory, before they drifted lower, down to where your hips met his. But all this unadulterated looking sparked a flame of timidness inside you, and your instinct to quell the nerves was to grab for him, urging him back to you. If he was busy with his lips on you – any part of you – it’d keep his eyes from boring holes into you. His lips met yours again with fervor, this time forcing his tongue into your mouth. A helpless moan floated out of your throat and Joel responded by laying a hand at your neck. Fingers around it but applying no pressure.

“Bed. Please,” you whispered so low you wondered if you had wanted him to hear it or not. 

But it was like he was attuned to you and your body more than any previous guy had been. And in hearing your request, he moved his lips back to your neck and you felt a smile spread across his face, pressing against your skin.

“Please tell me you’re not drunk,” he mumbled against your skin. So tight that it distorted his words and had you humming for instant clarification. He lifted his head and looked back down at you, as if his eyes alone would be able to figure out the answer. “Drunk?”

You ran your hands up to his chest, “on two and a half beers?”

“That’s not an answer,” he let out a breath and drifted his hand from your neck, down to your chest where he gave one of your breasts a squeeze. You noticed at the same moment, he reached around to your ass but avoided it to simply adjust himself in his jeans.

“I’d have to be drunk to want to sleep with you?”

“I reckon it’d help,” he grinned boyishly and bent in again for another tongue-led kiss as though he couldn’t help himself.

You grabbed either side of his face in your hands and curled your fingers into his beard. “Not drunk, just want you,” there was a lack of movement on his end and you weren’t sure if he was short-circuiting or trying to figure out if someone your size could indeed get drunk on two and a half beers. Either way, you tapped his ribs, “now, if possible.”

[tofics]

Nothing Like Some Neighborly Love - Masterlist

This mini series is an entry for @hellishjoel's hot dilf summer challenge! Thank you for creating the challenge, it's been so much fun writing this! I've also included a playlist for the very first time!

Pairing: no outbreak!Joel Miller x fem!Reader

Summary: Goodbye New York, hello Austin! - After a split from your ex, you're in dire need of a fresh scenery. Texas seems to provide just that. Your grandmother, fresh out of a hip surgery and in need of assistance, is happy to have you move in with her as a solution for both of your predicaments. Ever the hands-on person that she is, she also seems to want to rectify your fresh singleness, and she knows just the guy...

Warnings: [will be updated as the story progresses] mentions of a manipulating ex, mentions of cheating, mentions of a surgery, age gap (reader is early 30s, Joel is an unspecified amount (~10-15 years) older than her)

Part 1

Part 2 [18/08]

Part 3 [depends on how much I can cram into part 2, lol]

Playlist for this mini series below the cut! :)

*Divider credit: @cafekitsune

[laligraves]

morning run

joel miller x fem!reader

[18+] | wc: ~ 2.8k summary: Joel overhears your argument with the neighbor. masterlist | AO3

warnings: HBO Joel, TLOU AU, dubious consent (i'm so serious, don't read if it makes you uncomfortable), NSFW, pre/no outbreak, some proofreading, Joel is a tall and very strong man, older man/college-aged reader, Joel lives in a wealthy neighborhood with an HOA (homeowners association), no use of y/n or too many details on reader's appearance, somewhat public setting, breeding kink (kinda), fingering, squirting, unprotected sex, creampie

“These HOA people are vultures,” your sister mutters. 

You look up from your laptop and watch out the window as the committee leaves on their golf cart, most likely on their way to torment another house on the block. 

“Is it that big of a deal that my flower garden has the wrong color of roses?” 

“There’s a wrong color of roses?” you ask in confusion. 

“Yes! The president of the HOA, Susan,” you sister spits out in disdain, “only wants light pink roses on this block.” 

She slams the written warning on the entrance table and storms off into the kitchen. “I’m not sure how her husband stands her. I guess that’s why he spends so much time at the golf course.” 

You follow her into the kitchen, partly because you want a break from your assignments and also because you want to hear more gossip about her new neighborhood. 

“You know she made me pay a fine because my car was left on the driveway after hours? It’s my driveway!” 

You raise your eyebrows in surprise. “Suddenly, I’m not so jealous about your new place.” 

She throws a sponge at your head. 

“Why don’t you just say no?” you ask as you narrowly dodge the sponge. 

“I’ve tried so hard to be nice to everyone here. But all Susan does is turn people against me. Everytime I walk outside to grab the mail or go to work, people give me dirty looks!” 

You don’t like seeing your sister like this. It’s her home. One she worked very hard to buy in this wealthy neighborhood. No one has the right to make her feel like an outsider. So you develop a plan. 

You find out Susan’s schedule fairly easily. Every morning at 8 a.m. she walks her husband to his car and kisses him goodbye before he leaves for work. She then walks back inside for her notebook and pen to then walk around the neighborhood. 

She stops at every house to ensure it fits her standards and if they don’t, she leaves a written warning on the front door. During the weekends, she and her gang of friends drive around on a golf cart to give out even more citations. 

So at exactly 7:55 A.M., you make your way to her house. You’re careful in the outfit you chose this morning: a tight sports bra and running shorts. She, and most importantly her husband, are definitely going to notice you. 

You slow down as you round the corner, already seeing her husband place his briefcase in the backseat of his beamer. She walks right behind him with a lunch pail and kisses his cheek. You shout out a good morning and watch as they both turn to look at you. 

Her right eye immediately begins to twitch and she plasters on a fake smile. His eyes do an appreciative sweep of your body as he walks to the end of the driveway. 

“Good morning! Susan,” he says turning to his wife, “why didn’t you tell me we had a new neighbor?” 

He grasps your hand and gives it a firm shake. His thumb caresses the back of your hand as he slowly lets go. Susan finally reaches the both of you and grabs onto her husband's arm to pull him away. 

You give him a sweet smile, pushing your chest out in a calculated move so he has no choice but to look.   

“I’m just visiting my sister over on Ocean Avenue. The neighborhood is so nice I thought it would be perfect for my morning runs.” 

“I agree, you can run anytime you want–” 

“Sweetie,” Susan interrupts in a high-pitched voice, “you’re going to be late.”

He asks for your name and what you’re studying in college, then shakes your hand again while Susan seethes next to the driver’s side door. He drives off, promising a tour of the country club later that day. You're left standing alone with Susan, just as you wanted.  

“Look here, young lady,” she snarls, “this is a neighborhood full of families. Not some frat house. We do not allow blatant displays of–of–well this ,” she says as she motions to your workout attire. “I am going to write your sister a citation for this disrespectful action.” 

“Well, that does make me sad. I guess I’ll have to ask your husband to cheer me up later when I visit him.” 

Her face turns beet red and you wonder briefly if steam will come out of her ears. “What did you just say?” 

“Your husband was so nice in inviting me to the country club, how can I say no? I really need to work on my swing–” 

“You stay away from my husband,” she whispers, pointing a finger at your face, “or I will find a way to run your sister out of this neighborhood.” 

“Leave my sister alone,” you say as you walk right up to her and push her finger out of the way, “or I’ll fuck your husband.”

Susan gasps, dramatically placing a hand over her mouth. 

“I’ll make sure he finishes inside me, too. Maybe give him a baby.” 

With that, you continue your jog down the sidewalk. You don’t notice Susan’s neighbor, who stands by his gate and watches you run off.  

- 

You continue your jogs for the next few days, waving at Susan and her husband every morning. You and Susan come to an unspoken agreement: she stops bothering your sister and you make sure to stay away from her husband. 

Just as you jog past her house, you notice an envelope on the sidewalk. It’s next to a brick mailbox that has the name Miller written on a plaque. You check the envelope and sure enough you see it's made out to a Joel Miller . 

You walk up to the iron gate that matches the address and call out a hello , but no one answers. There’s red roses that wrap around the expansive gate which look and smell beautiful, but block your view inside. You test the handle of the gate and luckily it opens. 

“They must’ve dropped it when getting the mail this morning,” you mumble to yourself. 

“Mornin’, doll,” a gruff voice calls out to your right. 

You jump slightly and turn to look, finding a man crouched by the gate. He stands to his full height and you have to tilt your head up just so you can keep eye contact. 

“Good morning,” you whisper. 

He’s older and handsome, much more attractive than the college boys you're used to. He places his gardening shears down and takes off his gloves to shake your hand. You do your best to control the shiver that courses through your body at the touch of his warm skin. 

“Joel,” he states, swiping his other hand through his salt and pepper hair. 

You open your mouth to say your name, but he beats you to it. 

“How did you know–” 

“I heard your conversation with Susan the other day,” Joel interrupts with a slight smirk. 

His hand tightens for a moment until he lets go, dragging his fingers over your palm. You feel embarrassment wash over your body and you quickly hand him the envelope. 

“Right–um, how much of the conversation did you hear?” 

He lets out a laugh and drops the envelope into a basket that you’ve now just noticed. It’s full of the same red roses that cover his gate. 

“Just the part where you threatened to fuck her husband if she didn’t leave your sister alone,” he says, placing his hands on his hips. “Effective threat, it seems.” 

His eyes sweep over your body and you become hyper aware of the workout clothes you're wearing. Once again, a sports bra and running shorts. 

“She’s backed down,” you say after a few moments, crossing your arms to cover your pebbling nipples. 

“So,” he continues while walking closer, “you offerin’ to fuck every man on the block or just her’s?” 

His words send a shock wave through your body, landing right between your legs. You ignore the pulsing in your cunt and instead lift your hand to slap him across the face. 

As if he’s able to sense what you’re about to do, he catches your wrist before your hand makes contact with his face. 

“How dare you–”  

“Don’t act so innocent now,” he growls, pushing your body against the gate. “You told Susan you were going to let ‘em fill you up. Put a baby inside of you.” 

Your back makes contact with the gate, luckily in a place where there’s no thorns. You try to push out of his hold, confused at how much you enjoy being manhandled by an older man you just met. 

“Let me go or I’ll scream–”

“Joel?” a familiar high-pitched voice interrupts you. “Are you there?” 

Your body stills at the sound of Susan’s voice. Theoretically, you could use this opportunity to scream for help. Sure, you’d have to face Susan again, but you’d be able to escape. 

Except, Joel manages to pick up your lower body and push his jean-covered cock right against your cunt. You wrap your legs around his waist to not fall and place one hand on the iron gate behind you.

He rocks against you, moving a finger in front of his mouth, motioning you to stay quiet. Your mouth drops open in surprise as he grabs your hips and begins to grind you down on him. 

“Yes, ma’am. What can I help you with?” Joel responds. 

She tries to open the gate and you press your body back so she won’t see you. You’re not quite sure why you’re trying to hide. 

“Joel, honey. Your gate is locked,” she says. “Come unlock it and let me in.”  

Through your daze, you faintly register her tone. Did she just call him honey?  

“Sorry, Susan. It does that sometimes. I’ve got my hands full at the moment,” Joel calls out, giving you another hard thrust. 

You bite your lip to stop the moan that threatens to escape. 

“That’s okay, I just wanted to stop by and warn you about the young lady that’s staying with her sister over on Ocean Avenue.” 

Joel raises his eyebrow and stops his movements, dropping your thighs from his hold. You're shocked again, feeling dejected that he’s stopping.  

He quickly spins you around and bends you over, pushing a hand between your thighs. You grab onto the iron gate once more and slap a hand over your mouth as he begins to rub a big hand over your thin shorts. 

“Warn me?” he calls out. “What’s this young lady been up to?” 

“Well, that–that– tramp ,” Susan spits out, “is acting in ways that she shouldn’t. I know you’re a hardworking man who has done so much for our community and the last thing I want is this girl making you uncomfortable.” 

Joel yanks down your shorts and plunges a thick finger inside of you. You’d roll your eyes at her words but instead they're rolling into the back of your skull. He thrusts his finger a few times and calls out a is that right to Susan. 

Joel adds another finger and you almost fall at the stretch. If those are just his fingers, you wonder how big his cock is. He uses his other hand to keep you steady and continues to fuck you with his thick fingers while talking to her. 

“I just,” Susan continues, “I don’t know what to do. Maybe we can find a way for the sister to leave? If we all band together?” 

Joel removes his hand from between your legs and places it on your back to keep you in place. This time you actually struggle in his hold, wanting to face Susan and give her a piece of your mind. 

“Now, Susan,” Joel admonishes, “don’t go blaming the sister for the younger one’s actions. There’s no need to be spiteful to our new neighbor. There’s more than enough room in this neighborhood for everyone.” 

You stop, surprised that Joel is standing up for your sister. He presses against you and you feel the roughness of his jeans on your bare skin. He brings you in close, gently rubbing his crotch on your slick cunt. 

“Oh, you’re so right, Joel. I just get so caught up in the politics of the HOA. I want this community to be perfect.” 

A wet glob of spit lands on your asshole and you clench in surprise. Joel quietly unzips his jeans and takes out his cock. 

“Fucking perfect little asshole,” he whispers, pushing the tip of his cock right on your hole. “Not today, baby. Today is that juicy, little cunt.” 

You arch your back and barely manage to stifle a whimper when he teases the tip of your entrance. 

“What was that, Joel?” Susan calls out. 

“That the community is already perfect, Susan.” 

His voice sounds annoyed at this point. 

“You think so, Joel? Thank you, I–” 

Joel uses that moment to plunge inside of you, bumping your g-spot and reaching so deep that you choke on your own spit. 

“I’m getting a call, Susan,” Joel says through gritted teeth, “I’ll speak to you later.” 

Susan gives a sad goodbye while you bite on your hand to stop your moans. Joel is big, much bigger than any of the boys in your past. Your pussy spasms and flutters over his length and you breathe in deep to adjust to the size. 

“S’tight,” he mutters, ”keep quiet f’me, doll. Too many people on the sidewalk at this time of mornin’.” 

You hum in response, wanting him to fuck you, to stretch you and make you come on his cock. He starts a rhythm, keeping one hand on your waist so you match his thrusts and the other slips between your thighs. 

Sticky wetness drips down your inner thighs and he swipes two fingers through the mess to bring them up to your clit. Joel pistons faster, rubbing harsh circles on your clit that have you accidently whimpering in pleasure. 

“I know, baby,” he coos, “feels so good, doesn’t it?” 

“ Y–yes ,” you whisper. 

“Showing off that pretty body when runnin’ around the neighborhood,” he groans. “Picking fights and trespassing. Just needed someone to fuck some manners into you.” 

Your fingers curl into the iron gate and your back arches even deeper. He speeds up, becomes harsher in his thrusts once he notices your pussy become softer, wetter, gripping his cock with each plunge. 

“Little cunt can barely take my cock,” Joel groans, “fuck, doll. You’re choking me.”

You wish you could bite his neck, leave red hickeys on his tan skin that you imagine tastes like salt and roses and spearmint. Your head spins from lust and you feel the coil in your belly, ready to burst at any moment. 

You hear voices, people walking past on the sidewalk for some early morning exercise. Joel lands a quick slap, slap to your clit and your cumming, clenching hard on his length while you fall apart. 

Your vision blurs and you faintly hear him say there you go, make a fuckin’ mess on me . Wetness spills from your cunt, only making it easier for Joel. You bite hard on your bottom lip to stop the whimpers and your fingers curl into the iron gate. 

“Gonna cum inside this pussy, put a baby in there,” he whispers. 

“ Please, Joel,” you whine. 

He brings your back to his chest, molds his lips to your neck and bites down, moving you like his personal fleshlight. Joel groans in your shoulder and then you feel it, hot pulses of cum, filling you up. 

You hold onto his arm that's branded across your chest and squeeze down on him, milking every drop from his body, wanting it to mark you deep inside.

Joel's body trembles from the exertion and he stumbles as he finishes, turning his body to lean on the iron gate with you still attached to his cock.

He keeps you pressed to him for a few moments, keeping his nose pressed to your neck as he breathes deep. Your own breathing regulates and you become aware of the sensitivity all over your body.

Joel stands straight and gently pulls out. He reaches into his jeans pocket to reach for a clean handkerchief that he uses to clean up between your thighs.

"Same time tomorrow?" he asks.

You manage a rough fuck off and lightly push at his shoulders. He laughs and helps you fix your clothes. He swipes your phone that fell on the ground the moment he pushed you to the gate, having you unlock it so he can put in his phone number.

You make it back home a few minutes later, sore but for the most part, satiated . Your sister gets home hours later, once you've relaxed in her ginormous bathtub and washed away the evidence of your morning run.

"Are you seeing someone?" she teases as she walks in.

"What? No, why?"

"Someone left a giant bouquet of red roses on the porch." 

Sure enough, you find a bouquet of familiar red roses on the front doorstep. You don’t need a notecard to know who they're from. 

[asideblogformyficreading]

I’m obsessed with this, he’s such a fucking creep but I love him for it (what is wrong with me?)

Dude I miss nw!Joel. How’s my man doing?

Night Drives (one shot)

1k words / creepy!joel x fem!reader / master

Warnings/Notes: c. 2018. new reader. non-outbreak AU. Drug use. dubcon. unsafe PIV. Night walks list. request from @alloftheboysivelovedbefore. 

Imagine you’re pretty drunk from a girls night out and you’re talking on the phone with a friend while waiting on your Uber which will be an SUV, middle aged driver, kinda cute.  Guy pulls up in an SUV, rolls down his window, “lookin’ for a ride?” You get in, still talking on the phone, battery getting low.  The driver is wearing PJ pants. Good for him, you think. 

The driver brazenly checks you out as you buckle your seatbelt.   “Well damn, look at you.”  Unprofessional but you’re flattered.  “Where am I  takin’ ya?  Home, I hope?”  He has the address.  Does he really need to know if it’s where you live?   You don’t answer, you keep talking on the phone with your friend, not paying attention to anything else.  He lights up a joint. You don’t really mind, even though this is the sketchiest Uber driver ever.  

Finally, your phone dies. The driver starts hitting on you, eating you alive with his eyes, draping his hand over the center console, not quite touching you but in your space.  “Like to party?” he asks. 

You’re drunk enough to play along.  “Yeah, I guess.”  

"Knew you were a bad girl." He tries to hand you the joint but you don’t take it.  He checks you out again. "Damn, you're hot,” he says.  You’re becoming more attracted to him as the drive goes on.  He says, “How’d I get this lucky? Damn.”  His fingertips start to graze your bare thigh and you don’t bother tugging your dress down or pushing him off.  It’ll be over soon, you’ll never see him again, no harm in a little flirtation.  “Right place, right time I guess," he mutters.

-

Next thing you know, he’s parking the car.  Not at your house. 

“Where are we?” you ask, confused.  

“This is home, baby.”  He turns off the car.  “C’mon, let’s have a drink.  Got some real good shit inside, too.”  

You look confused.  “What’d you say your name was?”

“Joel.  And I don’t need yours, ‘less you want me sayin’ it later.” 

The blood drains from your face as you realize this is not your Uber driver.  “You’re not Uber, are you?” 

“Shit, no.  I look like an uber driver to you?” 

Now you’re screwed.  Your phone is dead, you have no idea where you are.  He pretends to be sympathetic about the confusion and says he wishes he could help but he has a flip phone and it’s dead, too.  He doesn’t have a car charger. But you’re welcome to come inside and use his computer so y’all can get some directions.  You can have a drink while you wait.  

-

Against your better judgment, you go into the basement with him and he secures both locks, making your stomach turn.  He motions to the couch for you to sit down.  He finds a cord for your phone instead of his, a welcome surprise that puts you at ease.  He also getas out that good weed he was talking about and brings you an IPA.  You sit down on the couch while you wait for it to charge, and he sits next to you, far too close, with his arm across the back of the couch behind you. The basement is dimly lit and the situation couldn’t be more sketchy, and yet something is stirring between your legs.

He lights up the joint then puts it up to your mouth and you accept. “Attagirl,” he says. 

Your arousal grows as his hand drifts to your thigh and lightly strokes your skin.  

As though reading your mind, he says, “Sugar, don’t worry ‘bout what you should be doin’.  Go on, drink your beer.”  You take a sip, you’re starting to sober up way faster than you want to.   His fingers stroke higher on your thigh, lifting up your dress.  “We can do whatever we want,”  he says in a low rumble. 

He leans closer and the hand behind you makes its way to your bare shoulder.  You put the beer back down.  The hand on your thigh creeps to your inner thigh.  Before you know it, he’s nudging your panties aside feeling how wet you are for him.  “Fuck yeah,” he whispers.  “God, you’re fuckin’ hot.”  

-

He leans over and kisses you, then keeps leaning, the force of his kiss sending you down on your back.  He’s a good kisser.  His upper body is against yours.  Before you know it he’s all the way on top of you, waistband pulled down, with his massive wood grinding against your soaked panties and you’re moaning into his mouth.  

“That’s right, baby, all yours.” He pushes two fingers inside you.  “Hell yeah, that’s what I’m talkin’ 'bout.  You let him take your panties off, hungry for his cock, and when you feel his tip at your entrance, he can’t be inside you fast enough.  He grunts as he impales you with his log, stiff member, and holy shit does he feel good.  

“Fuck yeah, baby.  Damn you feel good.”  He really, really does, too.  Far too good.  Upsettingly good.  He looks good too, damnit.  His arms bulge out of his t-shirt as he hovers over you, slamming his thick cock into you.  He fucks you nice and hard.  “Love how you take this cock, baby.”  He speeds up a little and you start to moan more vocally.  “Hell yeah,” he pants. 

He really knows what he’s doing. He wraps one of your legs around him and keeps pounding you, kissing you, sucking your neck. Next thing you know, you’re coming. “Yeah, come on this cock.”  You come hard, then he puts you in a mating press and pulses inside you.  You don’t even move to stop him. You take your pills pretty good, anyway.   

By the time you recover, your phone is charged and you’re actually not that far from home, it turns out.  You let him give you a ride home for real this time.  The whole thing is surreal.  

-

I know what happens after NW pt 5, I just have to write it (clown emoji).  I guess I’m having fun exploring his history as a menace meanwhile. 

as always thank you for reading & engaging! y'all are the best.

-

All joel: @ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose  @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @lokanda @blackvelveteen1339   @manazo @wolvesandvampires  @taeslarityy @str84pedro @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine

NW: @tehweeana @cutesyscreenname @ele-meno-p

[taeslarityy]

outage ༄ joel miller one shot (18+)

-> pairing: no-outbreak joel miller au x female curvy reader

-> word count: 4.3k

-> summary: after a citywide power outage, you're left to deal with the scorching texas heat. until, the well-respected neighborhood dilf — joel miller — lends you a more than generous hand.

-> warnings/tags: sarah is 10/11 so joel had her a bit older, power outage, texas heat, yes this is a warning because its not a joke, reader has a cat!!!, age gap (reader is 24, joel is late 40s), curvy/mid/plus size reader, brief fatphobia, reader has self-image/parent issues + is a lonely gal, fluff, SMUT (18+), unprotected piv, creampie, oral + fingering (f!recieving), squirting, body worship, brief ass play, daddy kink, big ole tits, spanking, spit kink, praise kink, a bit of belly bulge, cockwarming, pet names galore (darlin, sweetheart, baby, _ girl), joel has a huge dick (not canon!)

-> a/n: hi hi! i have been so anxious to begin writing again and currently have some wips that i am just not confident with. so when i saw the lovely @hellishjoel post her #hotdilfsummerchallenge, i was positive i wanted to join in! such a pleasure to be involved in this — thank you kylee for creating such a fun way for this community to get involved! as a curvier woman, i wanted reader to reflect that. because... joel miller is a handsy mf and loves to just grab himself some wide hips, thick thighs and phat tits <3 but ofc, this is can be for various body types. please please please, leave your thoughts and even constructive criticism! <3 DILF NEIGHBOR JOEL, YOU WILL ALWAYS BE FAMOUS!!!!

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. 

You release a groan of annoyance as the visual of your TV, coffee table lamp and humming of the refrigerator all flicker off into silence. The frills on your throw-blanket settle, as the ceiling fan no longer produces the small gusts of wind that have caused you to be rather chilly on this hot, humid and rainy summer night. 

When you made the courageous decision of moving across the country for a new teaching opportunity in Austin — you were never informed on the true brutality summertime unleashed onto Texas residents. More-so, you really had nothing to do but be caged up in the comfortable AC of your home. You’ve been here for roughly 14 months and the only "friends" you’ve made have been the 28 fourth graders you had the pleasure of teaching last school year. Tragic. 

Your coworkers, did not handle your arrival pleasantly. Young, beautiful, freshly-educated and determined. That’s what your grandmother referred to you as when you called her sobbing after your first week. Informing her that the seasoned teachers won’t even bat an eye at you, and when they do it’s a look of disgust. Whispering amongst one another. Like you were in middle school again, trying to befriend the popular girls. 

“I was foolish to think things could be different for me down here, so stupid of me.”

“Now listen to me, you are the most intelligent woman I know. More than anyone in this family. Bullies like that, it stems from an unknown jealousy and overbearing insecurity. Don’t let a few sour grapes ruin this outstanding career for you. Your students adore you already, and so do I. Just continue to be yourself and if that isn’t enough for them, so be it.”

Your grandmother always knew how to make you feel better. She had been instilling your own sense of confidence since you were a little girl. The only adult in your life to do so. If only her words were enough. Your coworkers just never let up. After overhearing them gossip about you during lunch break, you gave up your attempts indefinitely. 

“She really thinks she deserves a place here?”

“Look at her back rolls in that shirt…”

“She really needs to put that sandwich down.”

“Why is she so quiet? It’s freaky, honestly. No wonder she’s always alone.”

You’re not a stranger to being alone. You practically have been your entire life. Your parents never really bothered to form a genuine relationship with you, always so focused on your younger sister. She was the prettier, thinner, more impressive version of you. You have only had one best friend throughout your long 24 years on this earth. She was smarter than you and moved away from the timid small town you shared in Northern Maine, choosing an out-of-state university. So, being alone was a familiarity. You have made peace with it. But being lonely — that’s a whole other ball-park. 

The booming thwack of thunder startles you from your thoughts. Your sweet calico boy leaps from your warm lap and scurries under the dining table — tail puffed in fear. “Milo... it’s okay,” you whisper. He just gleams at you with his jet-black saucer eyes. Even you don’t believe your own words. You are not used to storms like this, and you didn’t really prepare. You read some articles online about stocking up: having plently of batteries, candles, non-perishable foods. Yet, you didn’t do any of that. 

Rubbing away the moisture from your damp upper lip — the heat inside your home already becoming unbearable. Deciding on a whim, you can head to a nearby hotel for the night. Unsure how long you will be without power and don’t wish to succumb yourself or your cat to the searing temperatures of the night. 

The rain has slowed down, as you feel the soft patter on your umbrella. Throwing your purse and water bottle in the front seat, you begin to dread unpacking all this stuff when you get to the hotel. Bags, cat litter, cage — scrutinizing yourself mentally and deciding you better fucking prepare for the next storm. 

“Where ya headin’ sweetheart?”

Your heart jumps at the deep smooth Southern voice that fills your thoughts at night. When your hands would find their way in between your quivering legs. Throughout the day. Pretty much all the time.

Joel Miller is the only person in this town that has ever filled the lonely void you can never seem to fill. When you moved to the quiet suburban street, he was the first to come greet you as you struggled to pull your mattress out of the U-Haul. Immediately lending a hand, and proceeding to lug all of your remaining boxes, furniture, miscellaneous items into your new home. 

“Pretty lady like you, shouldn’t have to lift a single finger.” He remarked when you you blushed and assured him you could handle the rest, not wanting to be a burden. Even though the sweat dripping down your back was apparent and 5 minutes prior you had no idea how you’d be able to unpack the remainder of the truck. He then assured you — there was no way in hell you were being a burden. Words that were a rarity. 

Later that afternoon, he invited you for dinner at his home. You met his lovely daughter, Sarah. Where everyone learned that you were her new school teacher. What were the odds? 

Following that, seeing Joel was frequent. From parent-teacher conferences, backyard barbecues for the neighborhood, or even small intimate dinners with Sarah at each others homes. Sarah would even spend the night at yours on occasion. When Joel had a late night at the construction site, or when she just needed some girl time. You adored that little girl, and vice versa. 

You also adored the fuck out of Joel. 

So when you looked up at his porch, finding him in nothing but a pair of plaid pajama pants.. your throat went dry. His tanned skin gleamed softly from the street light — little speckled freckles adorned his waist in various spots. And that darkish grey hair on his chest and fat of his lower tummy that flowed underneath his pants. Your brain fuzzy at the thought of your face pressed against it as you swallow his cock. 

But you were not a fool. Joel would never express an attraction towards you. A man like that? He deserved the perfect woman. 

“Darlin’?” He speaks again, a bit louder. Disturbing your wandering thoughts. 

“I- I was gonna head to a hotel for the night, my house is too hot already. And I don’t want Milo to be uncomfortable.” 

Joel’s eyes wander down your body as you explain — the plush jiggle of your tits in that small tank. Nearly spilling out. Slightly damp from the rain or humidity. The chub of your tummy spills slightly from your leggings. A sight that makes his cock swell unbearingly. An act that occurs more often than not when he sees you or even thinks of you for the countless minutes of his day. 

“No way. Not gonna let ya drive in this weather. Plus, most hotels nearby are gonna be overbooked. I got the generator up n’ working, got the spare room too. Your stayin’ over.” 

“No! No, Joel. I can’t.”

“N’ why not?” His hands have found his way to his hips, popping a knee out and giving you that classic dad glare. Not angry, but confused as to why you’re even protesting when he’s already decided. 

“I don’t want to intrude and I have Milo. You and Sarah are allergic.”

“Sarah left yesterday to stay with her mom in California for the rest of the summer. Besides, Milo loves me. I can handle a runny nose as long as I know the two of ya are safe.” 

To this, your stomach nearly flips inward on itself. You’ve never been alone with Joel in his home. Not for this long. The few times you’ve come over to help him with dinner before Sarah got home from soccer practice, have always been excruciating. Staring at him without worry. Watching his muscles flex through his t-shirts. Big hands chopping vegetables and plating food. His hand lightly touching your waist when scooting by. 

There’s no possible way you can survive a night in Joel’s home. 

But, he’s already grabbing his umbrella and walking over to you. He grabs your stuff from the car and tells you to go grab Milo. So, you do.

Joel slips on a t-shirt after he put your stuff in the spare room, disappointedly enough. You nearly told him to keep it off, but held your tongue. You made yourself comfortable at the island barstool as you typed up some early lesson plans, Milo at your feet. 

He patters over to Joel who is now leaning against the counter, brushing against his leg. He then leaps onto the granite and purrs against Joel’s arm. 

“Psst! Milo get do-“ you beg, embarrassment coloring your cheeks. 

“S’ okay, sweetheart. He’s not botherin’ me,” Joel attempts to settle your nerves. Petting Milo’s soft fur and scratching under his chin, that special spot all cats love. “Can I get you anythin’ to drink?” He nods towards the coffee he’s brewing. 

“Coffee would be nice, thank you.” You beam at him. Joel’s heart skips a beat every time your cheeks puff up ever so slightly when you smile at him. It’s something he swears is the most endearing thing about you. Of course, he’s only ever shared that with his daughter. Who begs her father to just take her favorite teacher on a date already. 

Joel grabs some sugar and oat milk from the fridge, your favorite. He learned from the few breakfasts you guys had shared. A bit of sugar and a nice gulp of milk softens the dark roast color in the mug, he slides it over to you as he grabs his plain black coffee. 

“You remembered!” You giggle slightly at the Number 1 Dad title that adorns the mug, taking a sip. You moan at the taste, exactly how you like it. 

“Of course I did, darlin’.” You almost hate how easily those pet names roll of his tongue. You summed it up as his southern hospitality, figured he calls any woman those special names. “So, you ready for this new school year?”

An icky feeling settles in your stomach. The thought of returning to the painful and toxic work environment you can only escape when you’re with your students.

“Not without my Sarah girl,” you swiftly change the subject towards the one person he can talk hours about.

He smiles proudly at her name. 

“Ya know, she still all mad that you wouldn’t flunk her so she could have another year with ya.” Both your laughs quickly fill the empty house. 

“Well, even if I tried to, that girl is too smart for her own good. She should skip a grade in my opinion.” You state, and you’re truthful at that. Sarah Miller is as intelligent as she is quick-witted. 

“Yeah, she gets it from me.” At that you roll your eyes playfully. Typing something up before closing your computer and taking another sip of coffee. “Although I love boastin’ over her, I guess I meant are you excited to go back? They treat ya good there?” 

Joel watches the color drain from your soft skin. Realizing he touched somewhere that might be too personal. Too raw. “M’ sorry sweetheart, shouldn’t have asked.”

“No- no uh, you’re fine. Um, honestly? No. I’m not excited. The staff there aren’t exactly the kindest bunch.” You confess, slight unease crawling over you. 

Joel’s eyes scrunch in confusion. Mind blank on how the kindest soul he knows, could be surrounded by complete opposite. “Whatcha mean?”

You sigh letting the anxiousness settle a bit before speaking again, “they hate me. I don’t even know why, really? I have tried my hardest to get them to accept me but nothing seems to work. Whether it’s jabs at my appearance, teaching style, they’re never satisfied.” Your eyes are burning slightly, haven’t confessed this burden you constantly carry to anyone. “If it wasn’t for your daughter and my class, and… you.. well, I think I wouldn’t have made it through. I try to be strong, I try to be everything that people expect from me but it’s just so hard, Joel.” At that, the fat tears begin to stream down your face.

Joel was frozen in shock. Or maybe anger. Protectiveness. He wanted to hurt the people who made you feel like this. The least deserving of any pain. He sets his mug down and snatches you in his embrace. Holding your head with his hand, stroking your back with the other. He lets you sob almost uncontrollably into his firm chest. 

“I just hate being so alone.” You whisper, clutching onto him. You can’t even be embarrassed anymore, you’re so overthrown by his scent, his comfort. Comfort you’ve not felt in so so long. 

Joel kisses your temple softly, "promise you're not alone, sweet girl." He nudges your head to look up at his own sorrowful expression. His thumb running over your full lips, a bit swollen from your teeth biting down on them in an attempt to muffle your sobs. "So beautiful." He murmurs as he leans down to place a kiss on your left cheek, his lips skim over yours before he places another on your right.

Joel just barely hears the whimper from the back of your throat when that feather light skim happened. He leans back half an inch, staring into your glossy eyes. "Tell me not to, and I'll let you go upstairs and get some rest. Tell me, sweetheart."

It feels like a whole minute passes by. The soft patter of the rain, the smell of coffee beans from each others breath, the same slow breathing that overwhelms the little space between you both.

Desperation.

Your fingers tighten on his shirt, "don't let me go upstairs, Joel."

Joel smashes his mouth into yours, his guttural groan flying into your soft whimpers. The softness Joel expressed a moment ago is long gone. This kiss is messy, teeth-clanking, tongue inside your mouth. Like he wants to devour you from the outside in. He releases your lip with a pop.

He threads his thick fingers through the base of your hair and yanks it back gently, tongue on your neck. Biting the skin there. "You're so soft, baby. Just need me to mark ya up, is that right?"

You nod as hard as you can despite his harsh grip on your locks.

"I need you to use your words, sweet girl. Let me know what you're thinkin'."

"Everything you do is okay. I want more. I need it all. Please."

"Oh baby, cm'ere," he wraps your lavish thighs around his waist and hoists you into his arms. Easily. Like you're just the most delicate thing he's ever held.

As he walks to his bedroom, you smile into his neck. Arms wrapped over his shoulders, hand rubbing ever so softly at his greying curls. You bite at the skin under his ear and he gives your ass a huge squeeze. Groaning at how his big hands barely hold all the meat there. He couldn't wait to touch and gnaw at this body he loved.

At the foot of his bed, he taps your leg as if telling you to get down. You stand in front of his massive overbearing figure, staring up at him lustfully. You grab the bottom of your compression tank top and pull it over your head, revealing your unsupported chest. Your heavy tits fall a bit.

"My god," Joel falls to his knees in front of you, face nearly level with your pebbled nipples. Both his hands grab a fistful of each, rolling them in his palm. Your sweet noises fill the room and he swears he might've just came in his pajama pants right there. He takes his teeth and bite at the fat above your leggings, licking and sucking at a sensitive part of you. Literally and figuratively.

Joel abandons your chest to yank your leggings and panties down in one move, coming face-to-face with your prickly oozing pussy. He can't restrain himself much longer, spinning you around he pushes you down into his mattress.

He spreads your ass open with both hands, the chub of your lips open ever so slightly as the slick between them strings together.

"Perfect cunt." That's when you feel the chill of liquid spat right onto your puckered hole, dripping down to your clit. He leans in, tongue catching the tangy mixture of your slick and his saliva, right on your throbbing clit.

You screech into the sheets, so turned on from his actions. As he licks up to dip his tongue into your hole, one hand that's holding you open sneaks up your back, to your neck and yanks your head up.

"Nu-uh, let me hear you, baby girl." He demands as he pauses to throw his shirt off as fast as possible — not wanting to leave your cunt for too long without the warmth of his mouth.

He sloppily makes out with your cunt as it clenches and unclenches under his tongue, his beard prickling at your skin. Like he wants your scent all over him for as long as possible.

"Ohh daddy, more more," you whisper hazily, hand reaching back to grab his head desperate to have him as deep as possible.

Joel stops as he processes your choice of title. "What was that, darlin'?"

You freeze at his serious tone. Just now realizing what you've called the man. "Oh my god, I'm s-" Joel grabs your wrist and pins it against your lower back — thick middle and ring finger hooking into you with no warning. Your wetness aiding in the rapid slide of them.

He spits on your puckered hole again and abandons your wrist to land a harsh smack against your ass.

"Only dirty girls say that word, baby. Are you daddy's dirty girl?" He edges you on as he spanks you again on the opposite side. Hard. Unsparing. A side of Joel you've never seen. And oh, does it make you feel that coil tightening within you.

"Mmmm yes yes 'm your dirty girl, daddy!" You groan loudly, eyes swelling with fresh tears. But not tears of pain from earlier, pleasure.

Joel's fingers fuck into you harder, thumb now rubbing at your clit as he leans forward to prod his tongue at your asshole. "Cum for me, my nasty sweet girl. Drench my face. Let me taste you even more." He halts his fingers knuckle deep, hooked inside your cunt as he presses into that spot on repeat. Like he's stroking it out of you.

That's all it takes for you to silently scream as you squirt all over his lower beard covered face and your thick inner thighs, that nearly squish his head from how hard you're coming. Joel just keeps himself situated, never letting up. Allowing you to completely let go and rut back into him, telling him you need more.

"Thaaat's it, my good fuckin' girl.” He praises as he kisses your cunt and ass, he leans over your face capturing your lips in a kiss so messy and depraved. “Open that mouth.” Spitting roughly onto your tongue with a groan as you taste your sweetness that he knows he will forever be addicted to. No chance of recovery.

He ruts his thick bulge into your ass as you whine needly.

"Really want you to fuck my face, now." You beg, hand reaching down to grope him through his loose pjs.

"Mmmmm," he murmurs as his hips keep rutting into you. "Tonight is about you, baby. M' gonna stuff your tight cunt so fuckin' deep you'll feel it in your throat, don't worry." And with that promise, he releases himself, throbbing cock slapping against his lower tummy. You flip onto your back just to see it and your eyes widen at the sight before you.

You always knew it was huge just from perception, but god. It's thicker than your wrist, and looks like it would prod into your cervix. Painful even. Joel senses the worry on your face as he pushes your legs back against your chest. Admiring the way your stomach folds into itself, soft roll after roll. And the thickness of your inner thighs lays heavy. He just wants to get down and feast on you again but he might die if he doesn't feel you wrapped around him.

"You're in charge here, sweetheart. Understood?" He explains as he rubs his fat cock head up and down your swollen slit — notching on your opening with every downward stroke.

You nod slowly, peeking down at the monster between your legs once more. He squeezes your ankle, subtly reminding you to vocalize.

"Yes daddy, I understand."

"Good." And with that, he pushes into your fluttering hole. Your eyes roll back immediately, head thumping onto the soft duvet. He pushes in deeper, barely halfway in and he sees your feet and eyes scrunch a bit. It almost feels like he could rip you apart. Maybe it's because you haven't been fucked in a hot minute — or maybe it's just that Joel is so fucking hung. More than any guy you've slept with.

“Deep breath for me, sweetheart.” He soothes you, as soon as he sees your chest fall — he slams the rest of the way in. Hips flush with the back of your thighs. Cock fully sheathed in your warm soaked cunt. Heavy brimming balls pressed against your little puckered hole. “You feel so damn good. Dripping for me.” Joel’s eyes close at the feeling of you hugging him so tight. He suddenly forgets the feeling of any other woman he’s pleased. Utterly devoted to you from here on out.

When he pulls out all the way to his fat tip — it notches on your opening. Like he has to put in that extra effort to fully remove himself from you. But he doesn’t, and starts fucking into you fully. Never half way, never pulling completely out.. but always making sure he reaches the end of you.

“Da- daddy oh, harder please.” You plead, squeezing his forearm at the overwhelming feel of him nudging your cervix with every thrust.

That confirmation of pleasure is all Joel needs to push your legs back even more — ankles by your head — and began a brutal relentless pace. Grabbing a fistful of your jiggling tit and messy hair, he pulls your head up so you can watch how he ruins you for anyone else.

“Ya see that, see how swollen your gettin’ already?” Joel questions as he holds your head perfectly to observe the slight lifted pudge on your tummy. Paired with the way his coarse hair rubs against your swelled clit — it’s a drool worthy sight.

“Cus’ your so big, Joel.” You sigh, eyes fluttering from the primal force he’s using on your body.

A smug grin flicks across his face at the view. Mind consumed by the most perfect woman. Eyebrows turning inward, the little lines between them deepening as you try to comprehend all the emotions in this moment. Removing his hand from your head, he finds your clit and swipes it upward. Over and over. Leaning down, he sucks as much of your breast into his mouth as humanely possible. Tongue flicking the pebbled area, coercing your orgasm from you. “Cum with me, baby.” His muffled command shoots straight to your filled core.

As he feels you spasm around his thickness, he stills balls deep. “There it is, baby…” Spilling his cum inside your warmth. Plugging you, keeping you full of him. Joel relaxes his body against yours, finding your mouth to kiss you gently. Sweaty foreheads against one another. Joel goes to push off of you, his comforting body heat about to be ripped away.

"No! Wanna feel you longer, please."

Your protest makes Joel's heart surge. "Of course, sweet girl." Wrapping his large arms around you, he flips you both so that your soft plush body lays above him. The new angle makes his spent cock nudge a bit deeper, you both moan at the faint squelch of his cum overflowing your cunt. "You're so perfect," he mutters.

Smiling into his full chest, you leave a swift kiss. "So are you. Thank you for this. For.. everything."

Joel's hands finds your back as he begins gentle strokes onto your supple skin, his head resting atop your own. "Thank you, darlin'. I want you to understand something, you might just be the finest thing that ever happened to Sarah and I. Y'know, she didn't really want to see her mom. Never had the best relationship with her. She just wanted to spend the remainder of the summer havin' ya over everyday to swim and all. That girl admires you more than anyone."

Eyes foggy, you shift to gaze up at him. "And what does her father think?"

Joel pauses briefly, rich brown orbs beaming into yours. "Think she's damn right. She didn't want me to tell you this, but she left so I could have some alone time with you — take ya out. Scolded me sayin' by the time she's back, we better be together." He laughs at the thought, you join him. Picturing that 4'9 ball of fire lecturing her father on the rules of dating.

"So, you're asking me out Miller?" You question with a heavy hopeful heart.

"Should've done it forever ago, darlin'." He confesses, placing a delicate kiss on your temple.

And with that, you place your head back onto the warm chest of the man you've craved your entire life. Realizing, ever since that day where he first greeted you with that sultry gentleman voice — you were never truly alone.

thank you truly for reading! let me know your thoughts below or in asks!! reblogs are greatly appreciated <3

[that-struggling-writer-lh]

A Flower For Every Secret Ch 5. Carnation -

No proofreading, this was a monster chapter to write, and a lot of filler for the next. Busy with a lot of stuff this week. OC is sort of a self insert here?

WARNINGS : MINORS DNI. mentions of intimate partner violence, brief joke about pew pews, alcohol consumption.

Word Count: 5652

“Who was that guy you brought to Colleen’s wedding? Word around the office was that you were single, Carillo said he thought so, anyway. Said you weren’t sure if you’d even go without a date.” The question came from a well-known office busybody, Kelly, as she blew a big pink bubble with the gum in her mouth. I made a mental note to stop telling Carrillo, and anyone else for that matter, about my personal affairs on their stops to my desk on his way in and out of the building. 

I felt the blush creep up regardless of trying to stay busy at my computer. Sunday, Joel and I had “coincidentally” bumped into each other grabbing our papers at the same time, it was hard to sleep at all with the lingering feelings of him on my brain and on my body. He had smiled warmly at me and we met each other at the mouth of each of our respective driveways, just friendly neighbors having a chat, thanking the other for the invitation to a colleagues wedding. Polite small-talk about the weather, the upcoming holiday, Sarah and her friends, who had spent everyday together by their pool, how I’m welcome over anytime. 

“Joel is my neighbor.” I attempted to deadpan, clicking at the keys while reading written reports. Data transfer from the field gave me at least something to occupy my brain other than Joel.

She giggled and leaned over the glass separator, “He’s not like any of my neighbors. He’s handsome, huh?” 

I let my fingers stall on my task and flicked my eyes up to her, “Well, he’s my neighbor. Lives across the street with his kid.” the mine, definitely holding a double-meaning.

She hummed in response, a curt, small noise, “Single dad, huh? Not my first choice, personally.” her gum snapped against her teeth.

“Kelly.” I started, signing out her name in exasperation, leaving a pause in the air, raising my eyebrows at her, “Why the sudden interest in my love life?”

She shrugged and chewed her gum loudly, “Just makin’ girl talk.”

I pursed my lips and closed the divider, effectively ending the conversation.

I heard her voice, muffled behind the thick glass, “It’s new, huh?” she was still smirking.

“Go away, Kelly.” I couldn’t hide the grin that spread slowly across my face, and she knew she won as she turned on her heels, clicking with every confident step she took.

I smoothed my pencil skirt and tucked my hair behind my ear before exhaling slowly and continuing on with my work. Reports weren’t going to file themselves.

The fourth of July, as Carol had told me from her garden beds in front of her house, always made the cul-de-sac pretty much packed from dawn well through the night. In the big turn-around at the end of the street, tables would be filled with food, drinks, desserts, ending with fireworks after the stars came out. With the holiday landing on Sunday this year, the only lull in the neighborhood would get would be when families disappeared for church early in the morning. 

I spent all of Saturday baking dozens of cupcakes to bring to the turnaround, and decorating them simply with swirls of red, white and blue, topped with sprinkles in matching shades. The Texas heat made it impossible to be comfortable with the oven stuck at 320 degrees all day, even with the roaring sun it was cooler outside than in, chugging sweet iced tea in the shade of my small back porch was the only thing keeping me cool.

I kept my attire casual, a half up ponytail tied with a red bow, white shorts and a navy blue tank top. I surely did not want to stick out like a sore thumb amongst the patriotic neighbors. Joel had made no attempt to actually speak with me beyond small talk all week, and I was beginning to get frustrated. Though, in his defense, his truck would be gone before I left and after I returned from work most days. I’d been blaming it on him owning his own business. Trying not to pine after him pathetically.

I made the first trip down the street to deliver 2 dozen cupcakes to the party, happily exchanging pleasantries with a few neighbors before excusing myself to retrieve the rest when Sarah and her friend, Anna, nearly knocked me down while rushing by on bicycles. Sarah stopped dead in her tracks and looked at me apologetically, “Sorry, we’ll pay more attention next time.”  she sucked in her breath.

“You’re okay, Sarah.” I waved the action off dismissively, “just be careful, I know there’s no car traffic tonight but there’s a lot of little kiddos around and older folk. You can’t be zipping through the crowd like that.”

“You’re right.” she sighed, rolling her eyes, “you sound like Dad, though.”

My heart lurched at the mention, “hey, where is your old man anyway?”

“Going to the store with Uncle Tommy.” She explained before Anna announced she was ready to go raid the appetizer table.

I made the second trip without so much as a howdy from anyone.

Walking back up the street the final time, I spied Tommy’s truck parked right next to Joel’s in his driveway, the brothers laughing together as they exited the house, Tommy’s arms full of paper bags nearly overflowing with food and drinks.

I tried to not notice how nice Joel looked in his ball cap and casual navy blue shirt. I just looked down at the pavement, folding my arms and walking up the driveway.

“Hold on, Tommy.” I heard his familiar drawl as I ascended the steps, “Hey, Sweetheart. Been meaning to catch you,” with the prying eyes of the neighborhood tucked away down the street, he had no problem gently taking my elbow in his hand to turn me towards him.

I furrowed my brows, “Oh, haven’t noticed.”

He scoffed a little, looking up the street to the busy party, the sun still about two hours from making its descent, “You free?”

“Just bringing cupcakes down to the party.”

“Okay.” his eyes flicked over my face, brows furrowed in concern as I popped the door open, entering the house, leaving the door open as an invitation for him to follow.

He tracked me through the living room and into the kitchen, where I handed him three clamshell cases of cupcakes and he stacked them up in his arms, “Make yourself useful, Miller.” I stated plainly, still having not looked at him properly.

“Hey… Sweetheart?” He seemed to chew on his question thoughtfully, not sure if he should speak or not.

I hummed in response, not trying to play cold, but trying not to seem like I’d been waiting on him all week.

“I’m real sorry I haven’t really reached out after… I’m not trying to… What do they call it these days… Ghost you.”

I snapped my eyes to his, waiting for him to finish, when he didn’t I shrugged, “I’m not obligated to your time, Joel. You have Sarah, your work. I was busy with work anyway. Had a lot of paperwork to do this week. You know, with the holiday. Wanted to make sure I had nothing they could call me into the station for.”

He nodded, sticking his tongue into his cheek, “I understand.”

“I suppose it’s partially my fault.” I rolled my shoulders back, straightening my posture, “We haven’t really swapped contact information, you know. Aside from the fact we could probably see into each other’s houses if we try hard enough.” 

He stifled a chuckle, “Sure. My fault, too. You’re so close after Sarah’s asleep I could just.. Throw a stone over and hit your door. I just-well.” he sighed, I waited, my worried brow relaxing, “-It’s been a real long time since I’ve… Tried to get out there. In any real sense of that phrase. I mean, I’m no prude, but-”

I nodded in understanding, “I figured. When we first had that big conversation over dinner at my place. I could tell that… For you, Sarah holds all of the stars in her eyes. You’re a father first. Nobody else can matter like that.”

His eyes softened and he adjusted his weight on his feet, “Thank you.” 

“We can take things slow, Joel. I won’t push. I don’t plan on pulling away, unless you want me to.”

I waited a few moments too long for his response, when none came I started toward the front door again, he hadn’t moved his feet from the spot in front of the fridge, “I meant it. Last week, when I said I would like you to come by again. Not have to rush like that. Maybe dinner with just me and Sarah.”

I turned toward him, his face had warmed with a pink flush, “For you? I’m free anytime after five, and weekends obviously.”

He exhaled like he’d been holding his breath and nodded, following me out of the house.

Joel and I walked down the street together this time, while he relayed a story about Tommy and his trip to the tiny market a few blocks away, how Tommy was almost denied being sold beer due to his expired license and a new cashier who had never met the pair who frequented the shop, how Joel had to swoop in and vouch, showing him the matching surname on his ID. 

I giggled at his dramatic retelling as the noise of the neighborhood grew louder, until we joined the cliques of our little slice of the planet and Sarah found Joel, latching onto his waistline with her scrawny arms, begging him to let Anna sleepover just one more time this week, pretty, pretty please!.

He, of course, can never tell his sweet daughter no. So long as she sat and had dinner with the family, he turned to me after with a soft gaze and asked quietly, “Will you join us, too?”

I responded with a nod, trying to suppress the way my heart lurched at the offer, with all of the prying eyes of neighbors. It was another small step to be in public together. 

Tommy and Maria were loading their paper plates with burgers and side dishes, Joel seamlessly falling into step behind, grabbing a plate for me as well, telling me to fill up on anything I wanted.

I accepted the offer gratefully and did the same as the others, anything that looked good landed a spot on my quickly piling plate, “Make sure you grab some of those cupcakes at the dessert table, she worked real hard on those, I’m sure.” he nudged my side with his elbow.

Maria had laid a blanket out on the grass, staking our claim to a patch of grass past the border of the sidewalk, in perfect view of where the firework display would be later.

I smiled shyly as we all settled onto the blanket, and Maria and I exchanged pleasantries. Sarah talked about how her summer break was going, how in five weeks she couldn’t believe she’d be forced back into a classroom. “Good, keep your brains from rotting out of your head.” Tommy said through a mouthful of food, “You crazy kids are always running around the neighborhood. About time you get back to routine.”

Joel nodded in agreement, “You can’t be a doctor without a good education, Sare-Bear.”

Sarah groaned as she stabbed some pasta salad onto a fork, “I don’t wanna be a doctor, Dad. That was so two years ago.”

“Well excuse me.” he drawled.

“You’re bright enough you can be anything you want, Baby.” Maria pointed her fork at the pre-teen girl that sat criss-cross at the edge of the blanket.

I nodded as well, but didn’t feel it was my place to add anything in. Sarah went on about her plans with Anna for the night, crafting new bracelets and watching a new movie her friend had picked up to rent earlier in the day.

After the meal, Joel and Tommy went to go search for more beer in the garage, leaving me with just Maria as Sarah quickly lent herself back to her group of friends.

Maria looked at me with a curious expression after we were left on our own, “How are things?” she glanced behind her shoulder at Joel’s form slowly shrinking around the crowd of neighbors, then back at me.

“I think okay.” I shrugged, “Slow moving, but that’s not a bad thing. Still just getting to know each other, I think.”

“He has a lot on his plate.” she nodded, “Always has.”

I nodded in understanding, sipping from a bottle of water, “It seems that way, he told me about how the whole… Dating thing just hasn’t really worked. Always busy with Sarah and work.”

She gave me a tight mouthed smile, “You’re not worried?”

“About?”

“How if things don’t work you own the house across from him? Might be awkward.”

I shook my head, “No.”

She let out a soft hum and I began picking at a hangnail I only just noticed on my thumb, “Would be hard for Sarah.”

It took a lot of strength not to roll my eyes, “All anyone ever talks about is Sarah… I know she’s his universe but… what about Joel? When does Joel get a say? When does Joel get to be happy? When does Joel get to relax, have fun? Sarah is a sweet, smart girl. You know that, everybody can see it.” I tried to keep my voice neutral, but it was impossible to keep the edge at bay, “Joel is kind. Hardworking, seems by all accounts I’ve witnessed honest, not to mention good looking. Sarah is first to everybody. We aren’t talking about marriage or anything, but Joel can be a priority just as much as Sarah can.”

Maria ticked her jaw to the side, “Tommy just  said he’s been talking about you to him while on job sites, and I… I just worry-”

“Rightfully so. He and Sarah are lucky to have people who worry about him, but Sarah is also old enough to know the basics of how… things work in the adult world, I’m sure. I’m sure there’s been times she wanted a female influence that wasn’t her aunt, or her friends’ mothers. He and I are still… working things out, haven’t even been on a real date yet, unless you count the wedding. There’s no pressure here, but I do like him.” 

She considered my words but didn’t respond, just looked to the side of us as Tommy and Joel’s cackling laughter could be heard, I turned to their direction with a smirk, watching Joel slap Tommy on the back, they had twin goofy grins on their faces and beers in their hands. 

“Hey, Doll.” Joel greeted as he returned to his spot next to me, resting his hand on my thigh now that Sarah had gone off with her friends again.

“Hey, Joel.” I feigned a smile and turned my attention back to him.

With the brothers back, conversation flowed more organically, and Tommy and Maria both took the opportunity to get to know more about me. The small details about the town I had come from in New England, that Texas was a perfect reprieve from harsh winters and slow seasons. That I didn’t really have any family, and therefore nothing to lose with moving halfway across the country. I liked my quiet time, my books, baking, and a simple life.

Eventually Tommy and Maria were pulled off by a small group of their friends who had joined in, friends of friends of neighbors. It seemed the more drinks that flowed the more people showed up for the display.

Joel and I held down the fort - being Maria’s picnic blanket. Laying on our backs in an otherwise mostly unpopulated stretch of grass. The volume of the music had started increasing, as did the volume of everyone else's conversations. 

“I’d like to take you out.” Joel interrupted a stretch of comfortable silence.

“Like, on a date or with a gun?” I joked.

He turned to face me with furrowed brows and a wicked smirk, “You think you’re real funny, huh? Course on a date.” he shook his head.

“Well,” I laughed, rolling onto my stomach to get closer to him, propping up my chin with my palm, “Just wanted to clarify, Miller.”

“Of course a date. A real date. Not a wedding, not dinner at each other’s house. You ‘n me. Restaurant or something. Figure out something else, too.”

I smiled and nodded in response, reaching over him to grab a neatly folded napkin leftover from dinner, “You have a pen?” 

“I’m a contractor.” he smirked, digging into his front pocket, pulling out a pencil, pen and permanent marker.

“You just carry those around? All the time?”

He shrugged, “Would it turn you on if I said yes?”

I laughed and playfully pushed him back over before grabbing the pen from him and carefully writing my number on the flimsy paper, “Here you go.” I handed him the napkin and he studied it with a smirk.

“Not a fake one, I hope?”

“You know where to find me if it is, don’t you?”

He looked up to the sky, now seeming to burn with soft shades of pink and orange, “I suppose I do.”

I had figured we’d been in the clear, having avoided nosy Carol until this point, but a shadow soon obstructed the warmth the remains of the sun offered, “Hey, kids!” she announced herself.

Joel and I looked up in unison, “Hey Mrs. Johnson.” he greeted her for the both of us, “Enjoying the holiday?”

She nodded in answer, “Looks like you are, too.”

“It’s a beautiful day,” I smiled at our neighbor, “Nice to get everybody together. I meant to tell you, your carnations are looking gorgeous.”

She gave a genuine smile before answering, “Almost time to cut them down for bouquets. They’ll make someone happy, I’m sure, and make room in my garden for something else. Sweetheart, there’s some drinks over there, Greg set up a sort of bar with one of the tables. Makes a mean margarita.”

“Thank you, Carol.” I answered, “I might take you up on that offer, actually. Care to join me, Miller?” I stood and reached my hand down to help him up.

He grabbed my hand and stood with a groan, as we approached the table a dozen or so neighbors perched at, all giggling with drinks in their hands, Joel greeted Greg with a firm handshake, without even a hello, Greg started as if Joel had been in conversation the entire time, “Oh, Buddy, that work you did in my bathroom has held up beautifully. No issues still. Felt like I was constantly having to have things worked on in there.”

“Well, because I did it right, Greg.” Greg was probably twenty or thirty years our senior, with kind eyes, sparse hair and an affinity for parties from what I’d heard. Like many of my neighbors, so far, I’d only briefly met him in passing. I knew faces and names, but nothing of substance.

He poured into a shot glass and handed me the small cup of clear liquid, without so much of a greeting, “Here, Dollface, this is for you.” 

“Thank you.” I nodded and let the feeling of straight vodka burn my throat. I shivered at the taste, immediately reminded of my too crazy freshman year of college.

“How are you liking the neighborhood now that you’re all settled?” Greg’s wife, Lisa asked from over the rim of a nearly empty cup.

“I love it, everyone has been so nice.” I smiled at the faces around the table.

“Good, not often we get new faces over on this end, especially young ones. All the young people are moving out, further into the city or leaving Texas entirely.”

A man hummed in response, nodding almost solemnly.

“I like it, it’s quiet. Working in the city is enough for me, I like to be able to separate at the end of the day.”

“What do you do, again?”

“She works for the police department. Front desk.” Joel answered for me, and his ears turned a shade pink, he covered it up by taking a long drink from his beer.

Greg smirked at Joel and gave me another pour, “Good benefits in a job like that, but stressful with all the crap that goes on in Austin, I bet.”

I nodded, though I kept my eyes on Joel, and he kept his trained on me, “It’s tough sometimes, but it stays pretty quiet aside from officers and agents and lawyers running in and out. I do a lot of paperwork, computer stuff, and sometimes direct calls if someone doesn’t know which department to call.”

Greg nodded before passing the glass back to me, and I didn’t flinch this time as I welcomed the burn of alcohol, setting the glass back on the table, “Carol tells me you make a mean margarita?”

I was happily tipsy by the time the sun went down, with jokes, innuendos, neighborhood gossip and stories fresh in my mind, Joel and I returned, giggling back to the abandoned blanket. Joel checked a note scrawled on a napkin, “Tommy had something going on in his neighborhood they forgot about, they left.” he explained with a lazy smirk on his face as he laid down on the blanket, now cold from the night air.

I hummed, “and Sarah?”

“I saw her on our way over here, she’s with Anna’s folks, the girls had some sort of handheld gaming thing they were playing on.” I laid down next to him and dared to lay my head into the crook of his arm, snuggling in close in what little privacy the moon and stars offered, he took a slow breath in and let his arm sink down across my back, he started rubbing slow, soothing patterns over my shirt.

Conversation around us settled into excited, quiet chatter about the display that was to be expected, how many people contributed to the display, and how long it would last. I listened intently to the noise around me, along with the even breathing from Joel’s chest, “You can learn a lot about our neighbors from just sitting back and listening, huh?”

He nodded, his chin pressed to the top of my head, “We’re a simple folk around here.”

I hummed quietly and turned my gaze up to him. No matter what lighting, no matter what setting, Joel always seemed so effortlessly good looking. It was almost unfair how even with just the moon, his eyes shone, how angular he was in just the right spots. 

He turned to face me and smirked, “You staring at me?”

My face felt heated and I looked away, “Sorry.”

He let out a noise that may have been a chuckle, but took his free hand, tilting my face back up to his, his thumb tracing a soft line over my cheek, jaw, neck. “You’re so beautiful.” he murmured, a slight rasp to his voice.

“Joel-” I started, but couldn’t finish my thought as he hushed me with a kiss, just as the first shriek of fireworks sang from the ground up, pop, pop, pop.

I pulled away to see the bright glow shimmer in his caramel eyes, before it dissipated and was replaced with another pop, pop, and fantastic red coated us in the cool of the night, “What?” he asked, still just inches from each other.

I shook my head and leaned back in, bathed in blues, greens, whites, every color imaginable while our neighbors wow’ed and awe’d at the display in the sky. I’d never cared much for firework shows. But with Joel’s hands on my back and his lips skimming across my face and neck, it really gave a new meaning to the way kissing someone can be described as fireworks in your chest. Everything with Joel had felt electric from the first time I saw him. His first polite Howdy, Ma’am, I’m Joel. Joel Miller.. 

I relished in the feeling of his teeth on my jaw, it was over all too soon as we both remembered where we were. Who was potentially watching. I was sure if Sarah was going to hear about her father kissing anyone, she’d want to hear it from him, not some neighborhood kid out to embarrass her.

We maintained our separate spaces until the end of the display. Each bang, pop, and hsss, and every swath of color filled me to the brim with happiness. I didn’t want to move from our spot. 

Joel walked back with me, with Sarah and Anna in tow, the girls giggling about something funny another friend had done, groaning about how a boy chased them with a worm. Joel smirked at me, rolling his eyes, “Kids.”

I returned his smile as Sarah and Anna ascended the front porch without even checking for Joel, closing the door behind them.

“Thank you for today.” I looked up at his towering figure.

He shrugged, like it was no big deal, “Of course. This is the first year that Sarah sort of… Took care of herself for the day-if that’s the right way to put it. It was nice to focus on someone other than her. Has been nice, I guess.”

“Well, I gotta head home. I’m expecting a call tonight.”

“Oh? From who?” he quirked an eyebrow up.

“Oh, you know. Nobody too special. Just some guy with thick curly hair, big brown puppy eyes. Someone who I’m sure will be busy with two rambunctious kids way too hyped up on sugar.”

He chuckled and leaned down to press his lips to mine briefly, hand pressed to my cheek, “Sounds like an important call, you might want to go head in and wait for it. Shouldn’t be long before those kids crash down from all that sugar.”

I smiled and chased his lips as he pulled away, and he granted me another kiss, deeper this time, grunting against my mouth, “You sound pretty sure of that.”

“What can I say? He knows his kid.”

He ran his hand from my jawline down all the way down to my waist, pulling me flush against him and kissing me a final time before releasing me. He was silent in the middle of the street as I walked up the driveway and the steps to my front door, “Hey, Sweetheart?”

I turned back to face him, “Hey, Miller.”

“You looked real pretty today. You.. look pretty every day.”

I couldn’t help the blush that crept up, and tried to stifle it by pinning my lower lip between my teeth, “Not so bad yourself, Cowboy.”

He huffed a laugh and turned on his heel, walking up the path to his house, the main lights all glowing out into his yard, “Alright, girls. Snack, teeth, bed. It’s way too late.” I heard him half-shout over rambunctious laughter from the main room as his door opened and shut, sealing them all inside.

I smirked to myself before turning in myself; washing my face in the single basin sink, taking my hair down, brushing out the grass and knots acquired from laying out in the sun most of the day, stripping down and slipping into loose sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt that the years hadn’t been kind to. Just as soon as I flicked off the lights and retreated to my bedroom, the phone rang from it’s cradle in the kitchen. I’d never jumped up to reach a phone so fast. The clock read it was after ten now.

“Hello?” I smirked against the phone, cradling the hard plastic between my cheek and shoulder as I stood in the dark room.

“This wouldn’t happen to be a sweet little doll I know, would it? Long hair, sorta short in stature. Killer ass.”

I laughed into the phone at Joel’s familiar drawl, “You are pushing your luck, Joel Miller.”

He answered with a deep chuckle, and I heard a rustling sound from his end of the line, “Pushing my luck, might be my middle name. Glad to know it wasn’t a fake number, after all.”

I hummed in answer, bringing the cordless phone down the hall to my bedroom, settling between the comforter and sheets, flicking the lamp on, “Like I said, you know where to find me if it was.”

“Tempting regardless if it was fake or not.”

I bit down on my lip and nestled down into the blankets further, cocooning myself in the soft, warm blends of fabric, “If only you hadn’t agreed to let Sarah have a friend over, maybe next time you can convince Anna’s folks to keep Sarah.”

“Tried, Sarah misses my Sunday breakfasts when she’s gone.” he chuckled into the phone.

“Joel Miller the chef, who knew?”

“I don’t just build houses, Sweetheart, I can build a mean plate of breakfast. Pancakes, eggs, bacon-”

“-Sausage?” I added a flirty lilt to my tone.

There was a shuffling noise again, I could picture his dimples as I heard the smile in his honey-like voice. Syrupy sweet. “For you, pretty girl, anything you want.” he took a deep breath before adding, “You in bed right now?”

“What if I am?”

A soft hum, “Makes two of us,” another deep inhale, “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about last week.”

I swallowed my smirk, taking a moment to calm the way my heart fluttered, “Me, too.”

“Been a long time since I’ve had a hard time staying away from someone.”

“I know the feeling, trust me.” I hesitated, “How long for you?”

He scoffed, “Trying to embarrass me? Like I said before, I’m no prude. There’s been times,” he seemed to hesitate, “I saw someone seriously about five years ago. Moved in and everything.”

“Wow, what happened?”

“Didn’t wanna play stepmomma. Or whatever, was some lame excuse. Didn’t feel like a real family to her, so I told her to forget it. Single dads aren’t for everyone.”

I tsked quietly, “Must have been hard.”

“Especially for Sarah.” he sighed, “She liked her until Ronnie-Veronica, moved in. They got on well with limited time, but they started stepping on each other’s toes really fast.”

I sighed, trying to form anything else to say other than a lame sorry before his voice cut in again, breaking the quiet, “What about you? What’s your story?”

I shook my head, not wanting to go into the full extent of details, “Something bad happened between me and my ex. We were never good for each other, and when things got more serious he showed his true colors. Things got physical, to say the least. The last time I saw him it was-it was bad. Should have went to the hospital but I ran home with my tail between my legs, back to Momma. Didn’t leave the house until the bruises were gone.” I nearly choked on the words in my throat. “Was four years ago this spring. I was no prude either, but… I don’t know what it is about this town,” I inhaled, calming the threat of tears, “About you. You feel safe. This place feels safe.”

I took him about three beats too long to respond, “Oh, Baby.” he cooed softly, and more rustling came from his end of the phone, “I’m sorry.”

I nodded, nearly forgetting he wasn’t here to see the gesture, “Don’t, Joel - really. It’s why I work with the PD now. Desk job, sure. Not dealing with specifics or super hands on. But sometimes these girls come in, not knowing what to do, and I can look at them and really say… I know. Sometimes it's all they need to help them say they’re ready for the next steps.”

His voice grew softer than I had ever heard it yet, and he let loose a breath he’d no doubt been holding, “That makes sense, Sweetheart. Very good of you.”

“I didn’t expect to have this talk tonight, Joel.” my voice was as soft as a mouse now.

“Glad we did, though. I’d never-”

“I know. You’re good. Better than I deserve, and I can see that from ten miles away, I’m looking forward to getting to know you more. Getting to know Sarah, and Tommy and Maria. Even if Maria sort of scared me today. Truly.”

“What did Maria do?” his voice perked, and I could almost hear the suspicious crinkle in his eyes.

“Nothing.” I pinched my brow, cursing myself for saying anything at all, “Just that you’ve been talking about me to Tommy, and that she’s worried about if things go south. Me being your neighbor and all.”

I heard a soft thump, and imagined him tossing his head back onto his pillow, I wondered briefly if the cases smelled like him, how he looked all tucked in and sleepy, “She means well, good intentions, poor execution sort of thing. She worries-”

“About Sarah, mostly.” I cut him off with a breathy laugh.

“Right.”

“You’re lucky.” My voice was growing heavy with sleep, I laid my head on the phone, the green glow of the screen displaying his number warmed my face, “To have people that worry over you and your girl.”

“I count my lucky stars every day, that's for sure.”

I hummed quietly in answer, “You need to get your beauty sleep, Cowboy. Need all the strength you can get to make your big breakfast for the girls in the morning.”

He ticked his tongue against his teeth, “I suppose you’re right.” a brief pause, “Come over. Pajamas, bed head and all. I reckon they’ll be up with the sun. Therefore, I’ll be up with the sun.”

I smiled into the phone, “You got it, Joel. Goodnight.”

“Night, Sweetheart.”

[fanfictilltheend]

Hey is there anybody out there in the ether who wants a preview of my next door neighbor!joel x reader + jealous!Tess no apocalypse AU?

Lmk! Will post a spicy bit if so desired 🌶️