#like yeah it makes sense because joel is all alone

[x1un4rx]

| A Night to Remember | (No Outbreak) |

Pairings: Bf!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Summary: A quiet night out with Joel turns into a meaningful and intimate experience for the reader. After a cozy dinner, the two of them escape to a peaceful spot to stargaze, enjoying each other’s company. It’s a night of connection, comfort, and a little bit of unexpected tension, all under the stars.

Warnings: mild language, fluff, jealousy, mild possessiveness, light romance.

A/N: I had fun (also suffered) writing this one! I wanted to make it sweet, soft, and a little steamy—because who doesn’t love a little romance, right? Hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Let me know what you think! <3 (I didn't proof-read this properly, so apologies if something sounds weird/doesn't make sense.)

Word Count: 2,8k+

Credits: @adornedwithlight for the lovely dividers <33

The house was unusually quiet tonight. No sounds of Ellie barging through the door with her usual energy, no music playing from her room, no chaos over something small that you both would inevitably laugh about later. It was just the two of you, alone for the evening, and it felt like a luxury. Sarah was in college now, juggling her studies and figuring out life away from home and Ellie was at a friend’s house for the night—a sleepover, her first in weeks, and the quiet was strangely comforting.

You were standing in front of the mirror in the bathroom, adjusting your hair for the third time. It wasn’t a special occasion or anything—just a romantic dinner date with Joel. But you’d been looking forward to it, especially after the week you’d both had. You were used to the small moments with him—the late-night talks, the quiet mornings—but tonight, you wanted to feel a little more… put together. The soft fabric of your dress hugged your figure just enough, nothing flashy, but enough to make you feel good about yourself. You didn’t need anything extravagant to remind you of how far you’d come with Joel. But maybe, just maybe, tonight felt different.

You caught your reflection in the mirror for a second too long and realized you were smiling at yourself. You could hear Joel’s low, familiar voice from behind the door.

“Everything alright in there?”

You rolled your eyes, still trying to get the perfect look. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just making sure I don’t look like a disaster.”

Joel’s chuckle came through the door, warm and teasing. “You can’t not look good, babe.”

You felt a smile tug at your lips. That’s Joel. The man who knew exactly how to make you feel like the most beautiful person in the room—even when you weren’t trying. His words were like a secret confidence boost you never asked for but always appreciated.

You gave up trying to get your hair perfect and called out to him. “You’re lucky you’re cute, Miller.”

There was another soft knock on the door, followed by the sound of the door creaking open. Joel’s face appeared, and you immediately had to suppress a laugh. There he was, looking like he’d just stepped out of a magazine. His jeans were perfectly worn in, his shirt a little more pressed than usual, sleeves rolled up, showcasing his forearms—those strong, calloused hands that always made you feel safe.

“You still gonna be in there forever, or what?” Joel grinned, crossing his arms, leaning against the doorframe with that cocky, laid-back expression you loved so much. “I was startin’ to think you were gonna leave me hangin’.”

You raised an eyebrow, eyes scanning him up and down. “Dramatic much?”

Joel smirked, pushing off the doorframe and stepping inside. His eyes didn’t leave you for a second. He always had this way of looking at you like you were the only thing in the room. It wasn’t like he had to try—it just happened.

“Yeah, yeah. Dramatic. You ready yet, or am I gonna have to keep waitin’ for you?” he asked, moving closer, wrapping him arms around your waist and his head on your shoulder, breathing on your neck.

You felt your chest flutter, and despite the teasing in his tone, you could tell there was something softer in his eyes. Something different tonight. He reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

“You always know how to make everything look effortless, don’t you?” His voice was lower now, more sincere than teasing.

You laughed softly, feeling your cheeks heat up. “You’re just saying that.” Joel looked at you through the mirror, looking at you in utterly disbelief. "I would never lie to you, my love."

Joel then pulled away from you and just smiled, a quiet, affectionate smile, before extending his hand. “C’mon, let’s get outta here before I forget we actually have a reservation.”

The drive to the restaurant was easy, comfortable. The quiet between you was never awkward—just the gentle hum of the engine and the music playing softly on the radio, songs that you both recognized. You didn’t need to fill the silence with anything more.

But when you pulled up outside the restaurant, a new energy seemed to shift. Joel straightened in his seat, his fingers drumming absentmindedly on the steering wheel. It wasn’t just a dinner to him. He had been planning this for awhile, putting in the effort, and you could feel the anticipation coming off of him in waves.

“Ready?” he asked, eyes glinting as he turned to look at you.

You met his gaze, that familiar warmth spreading through your chest. He didn’t just ask if you were ready for the evening. He was asking if you were ready for the next few hours—just the two of you, away from everything.

He always had a way of making everything else disappear.

“I’m ready,” you said, leaning over and pressing a kiss against his cheek. It wasn’t big or showy—just a quiet, simple gesture—but you saw the way his grin grew in response.

“You’re too good lookin’,” Joel said, "You sure you don't want me to start the truck again, head home and have fun in bed instead?" his voice laced with fondness and teasingness.

You gave him a look, "No love, let's go have a lovely dinner, instead of being cooped up at home and eating leftovers."

He held your hand as soon as you both climbed out of the truck, keeping you close to him as you made your way toward the restaurant. There was a quiet protectiveness in the way he kept his hand around yours, like he didn’t want to let go, even for a second.

You raised an eyebrow, glancing at him. “You gonna hold my hand the whole night, or what?”

Joel flashed you an exaggerated pout, that teasing look never leaving his face. “What can I say? You’re way too good lookin’ to let go. Gotta keep you close just in case.”

You laughed softly, the warmth of his touch grounding you. You could tell that tonight—tonight, he wasn’t just the guy who looked out for you. He was all in, fully present, and it made your heart beat a little faster than usual.

Dinner passed in a blur of delicious food and even better conversation. Joel was as charming as ever, effortlessly making you laugh with his lovely, dry humor and his little sarcastic remarks. But it wasn’t just the jokes—it was the way he’d lean in a little closer when he spoke, the way his hand brushed against yours under the table, the quiet glances that spoke volumes more than words could.

It was comfortable, easy. The kind of night that made you feel like you were the only two people who mattered in the world.

And then, just as dessert was being served, Joel excused himself to the bathroom. You were left to your own thoughts for a moment, the buzz of the restaurant fading into the background.

That’s when the guy, whom seemed like he was from the bar across the road due to his wobbly footing, was walking up to you, had caught your eye.

Your not in the mood for this. You wanted a lovely dinner with your man, but this guy had to rock up... amazing.

“Hey, beautiful. Can I sit with you?” His voice was too smooth, too confident. He leaned against the edge of your table, his body angled just a little too close.

"I saw you from the bar across the road, thought I might take a chance with a pretty girl like you." He said, eyeing you up and down. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat.

You blinked, taken off guard. “Uh, I’m waiting for someone,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady.

The guy didn’t move, just smiled, and leaned in a little more. “Oh, come onn, we could share a drink or something. I’m sure the bloke you came with won’t mind.”

You raised an eyebrow, more uncomfortable now. “No, really. I’m fine.”

But he didn’t back off. He just kept smiling like it was all a joke, a game. “You sure? I think you’re missing your chance here pretty, you positive you wouldn't want a drink with lil' ol' me?” This man was gradually becoming more disgusting and annoying by the millisecond.

Your patience was wearing thin, and you didn’t want to make a scene, but his persistence was starting to piss you off. Just as you were about to speak again, you saw Joel coming back from the bathroom.

You felt the relief flood through you, but it was short-lived. Joel’s eyes scanned the room, landing on the guy standing far too close to you. He didn’t hesitate for a second.

“Everything okay here?” Joel’s voice was low, calm, but you could see the shift in his body, the protective stance he was taking.

The guy hesitated for a moment, his smirk faltering. He clearly hadn’t expected Joel to show up so quickly, and when he saw the way Joel was looking at him—there was no mistaking the intent. Joel wasn’t backing down.

“Yeah, yeah, no problem,” the guy muttered, giving you a final look before retreating.

Joel didn’t take his eyes off the guy until he was out of sight. Then, he turned to you, his expression softening as he reached for your hand.

“You okay? Did he do anything to you darlin'? ” His voice was quieter now, almost apologetic. He was the kind of guy who didn’t like confrontation, but when it came to you? He’d do anything to make sure you felt safe.

You smiled at him, grateful. “Yeah, just didn’t know what to do. Thanks for stepping in hun.”

Joel squeezed your hand, his thumb gently brushing against your skin. “Ain’t no one gonna mess with you when I’m around, sweetheart.”

After dinner, Joel’s truck rumbled down the quiet road, the noise of the city faded into the background, it was like stepping into another world altogether. The quiet of the woods wrapped around you like a blanket—peaceful, uninterrupted. Just the sound of your breaths and the rustle of leaves in the distance.

The air was cool, carrying the fresh scent of earth and pine, the kind of crisp evening breeze that settled into your bones, making everything feel clean and new. When Joel finally pulled off the main road, heading into a small, secluded patch of woods, you couldn’t help but feel your heart beat a little faster. There was something about the stillness of nature that always made you feel both small and incredibly alive, especially with Joel beside you.

He parked the truck at the edge of a grassy hill, surrounded by nothing but open land and a sky full of stars. It was perfect—just like he’d planned.

You stepped out of the truck, inhaling the cool air deeply, letting it fill your lungs. The night seemed to expand in every direction, endless and vast. You walked a few paces away, and then, for a moment, you simply stopped and tilted your head back. The sky was so clear, so wide, that it took your breath away. The stars shone like diamonds scattered across a velvet canvas, each one brighter and closer than you’d ever seen in the city.

You could see the Milky Way, a faint but beautiful streak across the sky, and the constellations you’d learned about as a kid suddenly seemed more real, more tangible. There was something magical about being here, so far from everything else. The stars felt almost like they were there just for you, like they were a secret shared only between you and the universe.

Joel’s voice broke through your thoughts, warm and close. “You alright?”

You turned toward him and smiled, already knowing he was watching you with that soft, caring expression. The kind that made you feel like you were the only person who mattered in the world to him. "Yeah, just... it’s amazing out here."

Joel chuckled lightly, walking over to you and placing a hand on your back, guiding you to the blanket he’d set out on the grass. “I thought you might like it,” he said, that grin of his tugging at the corners of his mouth. "You did mention it when we first met." You looked at him, smiling slightly. "You remembered it?" You were surprised he remembered something from 3 years ago.

You sat down on the blanket, and Joel followed, stretching out beside you. His hand brushed against yours, fingers intertwining, his warmth against your side, a steady presence that grounded you. You both lay back, the sky opening up above you, vast and endless, and for a moment, it was like everything else melted away. The truck, the world, everything. It was just the two of you, the stars, and the cool night air.

As you settled in, your head found its place against his shoulder, the steady rhythm of his breathing lulling you into a peaceful calm. Joel’s arm draped casually over your body, his fingers lightly brushing the skin of your arm, as if he wanted to be as close to you as possible without even trying. You could feel the gentle pulse of his heartbeat beneath the fabric of his shirt. It was a familiar sound, comforting and safe, and you let yourself sink into it.

“The stars look different out here,” Joel said, his voice a soft rasp in the stillness, like he was marveling at the view for the first time too. "They look...prettier."

You smiled, your eyes tracing the patterns above you. “Yeah,” you said, your voice quiet, almost in awe. “They’re... more alive. Like you can actually see them, y’know? The way they’re all scattered across the sky, like the universe just decided to let us in on its secret.”

Joel let out a soft hum of agreement, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your arm. “Guess there’s a whole lot more out there than we ever see, huh?”

You nodded, unable to look away from the stars. “It’s... it’s incredible. Sometimes I forget how big the world is, how much of it we don’t even know about.”

For a long time, neither of you spoke. There was something peaceful about that silence, a comfortable kind of quiet that wasn’t awkward but full of understanding. Just the gentle rustle of the grass beneath you, the breeze moving the trees in the distance, and the faint hum of insects.

“I used to come out here a lot,” you murmured, your voice soft but steady, as if the night made you want to share more than you usually did. “When things were rough, I’d just lie on my back and look up at the stars. It always made me feel like... like I wasn’t as alone as I thought I was.”

Joel’s fingers paused in their movement, and you could feel him turn his head toward you, his gaze soft in the darkness. “You were never alone darlin',” he said quietly, his voice firm but gentle, like he wanted to reassure you that you were never carrying the weight of the world by yourself.

You met his gaze, finding the sincerity in his eyes. It made your heart skip a beat.

“Yeah, but... it’s different now,” you whispered. “I have you. And I’m not just looking at the stars alone anymore.”

Joel smiled at that, a little crooked grin that made your chest feel warm. “Well, we got a hell of a view tonight, don’t we?” He nudged you gently with his elbow, his voice laced with affection.

You laughed softly, leaning closer to him, your fingers brushing his again. “We do. It’s perfect.”

His arm tightened around you slightly, pulling you just a little closer, as if he couldn’t help himself. “Yeah… it’s just right.” His voice dropped, almost to a whisper, like he was speaking to you alone, like the night itself was a secret between just the two of you. “Just us. Right here.”

You nestled your head a little deeper into his shoulder, feeling the warmth of his body against yours and the steady, comforting beat of his heart. The stars seemed to shine even brighter when you thought about how far you’d come, how much you’d shared and how much more you still had ahead of you.

For a few moments, you let yourself drift, your eyes closed, breathing in the night air. You didn’t need words. You didn’t need anything more than this—the quiet company of someone who understood you, the peaceful presence of the stars above, and the promise that no matter what, you’d always have this moment to hold on to.

In that moment, it wasn’t just about the stars or the quiet, but about everything that had led up to this. How far you’d come. How much you had, just right here, with him.

- lunar <3

[seethesunny]

Something that has been keeping awake some friends and I for some time

Is the knowledge that Joel apparently hasn't slept on Tess’s side of the bed for years :(

[punkshort]

Swept Away | Chapter 7: Making Waves

Pairing: sugardaddy!Joel Miller x f!reader

Chapter Summary: Joel receives some exciting news, meanwhile you're having one of the worst nights of your life.

Chapter Warnings: language, sugar daddy/baby dynamics, alcohol and food consumption, jealousy, sexual tension, flirting, physical violence against reader (not Joel), verbal abuse towards reader, blood/bruising related to an injury, feral Joel came to play, anxiety, insecurities, possessive behavior, smut (18+ MDNI), unprotected piv sex

WC: 10K (yikes)

Series Masterlist

Everything was the same it always was, but somehow also different.

Admittedly, the morning following the art gallery you awoke terrified Joel would ice you out again. You stayed in bed as long as you could, texting Celine just to avoid the inevitable heartbreak, but much to your surprise you heard a knock on your door around ten in the morning.

"Hey," Joel peeked his head into your room and you dropped your phone to your mattress. "You okay? You don't usually sleep this late."

"Yeah," you replied, voice still thick with sleep so you cleared your throat. "Just, uh, taking it easy and..." you trailed off and dropped your gaze to the floor.

"Avoidin' me?"

Your eyes snapped up just to find him leaning against your doorframe with his arms crossed and a teasing smirk on his face.

"Maybe," you whispered, plucking nervously at your comforter. He pushed off the wall and walked over to your side of the bed, then reached out to tame some of the hair around your ear.

"Gonna give me a taste and take it away, that it?"

Your cheeks felt hot and the butterflies in your stomach stirred to life, but you managed to shake your head and hold his gaze. "N-no. I just thought you might've regretted it again."

He sighed and he stopped playing with your hair so he could cup your cheek. "I never regretted it," he told you softly, then leaned down to press a tender kiss against your lips. "Not then and not now," he added before pulling away, leaving you breathless. "Now c'mon, your breakfast is gettin' cold," he said when he turned to walk out of your room.

And that was all that was ever said on the subject.

Now, a handful of days later, everything was business as usual. You still slept in your separate rooms and you went to restaurants together but the air around you was different. It felt charged whenever you were together. A lingering glance here, a gentle touch there reminded you something had definitely changed. Something that went unlabeled and unspoken and you didn't dare try. As much as you wished to take things further and try to get Joel to open up more, you refrained because you could sense he was growing impatient with Glenn and you didn't want to sour his mood even more.

He was running out of time and Joel told you he needed to step things up. So far, Glenn had avoided talking much business and spent most of the time just getting to know everyone better. Joel never pushed him. He saw how Glenn reacted when Zachary or Harry tried to bring up business and it wasn't good, so he bided his time and waited. But now he was feeling the pressure.

"Can't just spend an entire fuckin' month here for nothin'," he grumbled one afternoon as he paced around the hotel. You watched him from your spot on the sofa, still clad in your bikini from spending time by the pool that morning.

You chewed your lip nervously, his anxious energy transferring to you. "How important is it that you win?"

His eyes flickered over to yours and scoffed. "Real fuckin' important. If I get this spot, The Parador would become a household name. The revenue stream from this spot alone would be higher than all my other hotels combined. It would open up a whole new world of opportunities for my business."

Joel rolled his shoulder like he was trying to work out a tight muscle and you pursed your lips. Maybe you just hadn't given it much thought, but it sounded like a much bigger deal than you originally imagined.

"It's about exclusivity," Joel continued, "there's only so much space on this island. Only the best of the best build here, and the world fuckin' knows it. It's why they want to travel to this particular island - they want to experience a level of comfort and luxury they've never known before in the most beautiful place in the world."

"Well, did he say when he was going to make a decision?"

"Said by the end of the trip but no one's even had a chance to give 'em their sales pitch yet," he said, raking his fingers through his hair.

"Maybe he doesn't need the sales pitch," you said, picking up your phone. He stopped pacing and eyed you up.

"What'dya mean?"

You let your phone hang limply in your hand and you looked back up at him.

"Well, he knows what you're all about. He knows what kind of hotels all of you run and how successful you are. He doesn't care what your vision is or what will make your hotel different. But what he does care about is this island."

Joel frowned and slowly sunk into the couch opposite you.

"What else?"

Your lips turned downward and shrugged. "He cares about this island and its people. He wants to make sure the person he picks for this land will respect it and the people who live here. I mean, think about it. Guy could live anywhere but he built a huge mansion right here. His kids live here. His daughter is dedicating her career to helping local artists find success. He loves it here, Joel. He just wants someone who will love it back."

He stared at you for a moment, his expression unreadable until he abruptly stood and in two long strides, closed the distance between you. He grabbed the sides of your head and pulled you up for a deep kiss, the suddenness of it stopping you from responding right away. Just when your brain caught up and your lips began to massage his, he pulled away with a huge smile.

"You're so fuckin' smart, y'know that? Jesus Christ, why didn't I see that?"

You grinned, trying to hide the pleased look on your face by shaking your head and turning away.

"What can I say? I have my moments," you shrugged when you sat back down on the couch. "Guess you got more than you bargained for with me," you added with a laugh.

"Oh, I knew that already," Joel said with a wink. Your cheeks warmed and you looked down at your phone with a stupid smile stretched across your face. It was moments like those when you heard the voice inside your head scream at you to ask the obvious question: what did you mean to him?

He kissed you like you were his girlfriend, but he never invited you into his bedroom. He had said he wanted more, but had yet to try. Was he waiting for you to make a move? You had been practically throwing yourself at him for the past week, there was no way you were going to do that again.

Joel had dialed someone who worked for him, completely oblivious to the confusion swirling around in your head. Instead, he was excitedly conveying the breakthrough you had about Glenn to the man on the other end and began to talk strategy. Already feeling bored, you decided to get up and go take a shower so you were ready for dinner, but as you were walking back towards your bedroom, you heard Joel say quietly into his phone, "No, I didn't even think of it. My girl did."

My girl.

Oh, you could get used to that.

"Aren't you bored as hell when Joel runs off to hang with the guys?" Zoe asked over dinner. Ironically, you had picked the same restaurant as Lynne and Tammy, who also invited Ian, for dinner. You didn't know Ian very well but from the look of it, he seemed to be caught in the middle. He tossed a few glances your way and gave you each friendly smiles, but Lynne and Tammy ignored you completely. However, based on their body language, you had a strong feeling they were most definitely talking about the two of you.

"Sometimes," you admitted. You shot the waiter a smile when he placed two drinks on the table. You each quickly grabbed them, clinking your glasses together before taking a long sip.

"Well, only one more week and then you'll have him all to yourself again, lucky girl," she said with a flirty wink. You thought you responded but you couldn't be sure because she had unexpectedly knocked you sideways. One more week? Christ, where did the time go? And what would happen between you and Joel when you got back home? Would he really just pay you and disappear from your life forever? The thought made you sick to your stomach and you had to put your drink down.

"You okay?" Zoe asked, furrowing her brows. "You look a little queasy."

"No, I'm fine," you said quickly, waving her off. "Just hungry."

"Sure you're not pregnant?" she teased. You laughed and pointed to your drink.

"Would be a little irresponsible of me, wouldn't it?"

You were so grateful for Zoe. She was a safe place when you were feeling lonely or insecure and it made you sad you wouldn't be able to keep in touch once the trip was over. How could you? If you did, she would eventually figure out you were hired, just like she was, to accompany Joel to the island.

Maybe it was the two devastating reality checks in a row but you had a hard time snapping out of your funk. You tried, you really did, but you couldn't stop thinking about losing Joel and Zoe so soon. It didn't help matters when she got a text from Zachary telling her the night with Glenn on his boat was going long and not to bother staying up.

She sighed with relief and flicked her hair over her shoulder before glancing around the dining room, murmuring to you about how she could use a night off while you just stared down at your phone, waiting for a similar text from Joel.

Nothing.

My girl.

You took a deep breath, trying to tamp down the insecurity, but it was hard. It was so fucking hard. Why was it always so difficult with Joel? Why did it always feel like whenever you took one step forward, you take two steps back? Did he even like you? You thought he did, but maybe you were wrong. Maybe he was just treating you like a sugar baby this whole time and you stupidly thought -

Your phone buzzed on the table and when you saw Joel's name pop up, relief instantly swept through you and all your nagging self-doubt faded away.

Going to be late, sweetheart. I'm sorry but I got a good feeling - finally getting somewhere with Glenn

You smiled, despite not being able to see him the rest of the night, he thought enough to text you and he called you sweetheart.

Right when you were about to reply, he texted you again.

I'll make it up to you ;)

You must have looked flustered because Zoe cleared her throat and quirked an eyebrow at you when you finally tore your eyes away from your phone.

"Do you have something to share with the class?"

You shook your head and tried to hide your smile behind your hand but failed. Still, Zoe peered curiously across the table and read Joel's last text upside down. She gave you a jealous pout and sat back in her chair.

"Not fair. You're so lucky," she sighed. "I think once Zachary and I are done, I'm going to quit."

"What?!" you quietly exclaimed. She nodded and shrugged.

"I'm done with it. It was fun, I got to travel a lot, have nice things and meet cool people but I need to think about my future, you know? And there's, like, a zero percent fucking chance I'll meet the love of my life being a sugar baby."

You nodded, struggling to figure out what to do with a sharp pang in your chest. Was it so impossible to think anything serious could come from a relationship with a sugar daddy? Luckily, Zoe continued.

"I look at you guys and I'm just reminded of what I could have, y'know? All I want is a guy who looks at me the way Joel looks at you."

Jesus Christ, Zoe was shaking you up and she didn't even know it.

"H-how does he look at me?"

Zoe rolled her eyes at you before saying, "C'mon, you know. He can't keep his eyes off you. He's so fucking into you, it's sick."

You laughed at that, a sharp little bark of disbelief, but then quickly corrected yourself. You had to change the subject, your emotions were splintering and you were desperate to talk about something lighter, but before you did, you sent Joel a text.

Can't wait ;)

Shoving your phone back into your purse, you turned your attention back to Zoe, frowning when you saw the sour look on her face as she finished her drink.

"What?"

She leaned across the table and lowered her voice. "Don't turn around but Trevor and Brooks are at the bar."

Your stomach twisted into knots and you took another drink, grateful to see your food arriving if just for the distraction alone.

"Wonder why they aren't on the boat with everyone else," you mumbled before stabbing a piece of pasta with your fork.

"I heard Brooks didn't want to go and Glenn sent Trevor to keep an eye on him," Zoe told you mischievously.

"How the hell do you hear all this gossip?" you asked after you wiped the shocked look off your face. Zoe giggled and swallowed a bite of her salmon.

"I get bored, I eavesdrop."

"Damn, either Joel doesn't hear this stuff or he doesn't care because the only phone calls I hear from him are work calls," you said before offering her a bite of your dish. She eagerly accepted and gave you some salmon in return. "Wonder why Glenn thought Brooks needed a babysitter," you said after another moment.

Zoe put her fork down and gave you a look that told you she knew way more than she should, so you mimicked her and set your fork down as well to give her your full attention.

"I don't think Glenn and Mary trust Brooks to carry on the business once he retires," Zoe said, glancing once over your shoulder at the bar. "I don't know why but that night at Glenn's house, I went to the bathroom and overheard Mary telling Brooks this is your last chance, or something like that."

You raised your eyebrows in surprise and slowly leaned back in your seat. So it wasn't just you who thought something was off about him. Then Joel's comment about drug use slipped back into your brain and you were about to tell her but you decided to bite your tongue at the last minute. You trusted Zoe, but you didn't want to betray Joel. So instead, you kept your mouth shut and played dumb.

"That's... crazy," you said, fumbling for words. It didn't seem to bother Zoe because she just nodded and picked up her fork.

"I know, right? Kind of humbling to know Glenn and Mary don't have the perfect little family we all thought."

When the waiter approached, you assumed he was coming to check on your food, but instead he held in his hand a bottle of champagne. "From Mr. Miller with his sincerest apologies," the waiter had said, making you blush when Zoe gave you an incredulous look. As sweet as it was, you really hoped that's not what he meant by 'making it up to you'. After the champagne was poured and the waiter left, placing the bottle on ice first, she pretended to stab your arm with her fork.

"What the hell, girl? Maybe I need to get a front desk job for some billionaire so I can find my own Joel."

You giggled and took a sip from your glass, the bubbles popping on your tongue. It could have been a three hundred dollar bottle of champagne or a ten dollar bottle, it didn't matter to you. The mere fact Joel figured out where you went for dinner and sent something over was astounding to you and you prayed you were reading the signals right.

"I should thank him," you said, pulling your phone back out to send him a quick text.

You didn't need to do that, but thank you :)

In less than a minute, you got your reply.

No need to thank me, baby - enjoy and I'll see you tomorrow

"Looks like your man's little gift caught someone's eye," Zoe said with a grin. You followed her gaze to Tammy and Lynne's table, catching the nasty look they were sending your way before they turned around and you giggled into your palm.

"She's still pissed with me because I almost pulled all her hair out at the art gallery the other night."

Zoe's eyes went wide and her jaw dropped. "Excuse me?!"

You laughed and stood up from the table, dropping your napkin on your chair before grabbing your purse. "I'll tell you all about it after I use the restroom."

She made a pained squeak, disgruntled you were leaving her hanging, but you just grinned and stepped away.

"You better be quick!" she shouted after you. Fuck, you were really going to miss hanging out with her.

Despite the looming conclusion to your trip, you were feeling pretty good. At least, in that moment, things felt like they were going well with Joel and you were having a nice time at dinner, even though Tammy had just been staring daggers at you.

The one thing you somehow managed to forget about was Brooks, who unfortunately exited the men's bathroom just as you were searching for the women's room.

"Well, look who it is," Brooks said when he spotted you. You tried to give him a polite smile but you weren't sure you succeeded.

"Oh, hi," was all you said when you tried to squeeze past him. Right as you passed, his hand shot out to grab your arm and you swiveled around.

"You ladies having a nice time?" he asked with a toothy smile. His dark eyes bored into you and if you looked close enough, you could see his pupils were like pinpricks. Then his hand casually swiped against his nostrils and you figured out what he had just been doing in the bathroom.

"Yeah, thanks. This place is nice," you said, taking a subtle step backwards before hooking your thumb over your shoulder. "Excuse me," you added, and before he could say anything else you turned on your heel and headed for the women's room a few feet away, relaxing once you heard the door swing closed behind you.

After you used the bathroom and washed your hands, you were fixing your hair and makeup in the mirror, your thoughts back on Joel, mind wandering to what exactly he meant by I'll make it up to you later when the door flung open. You hardly had a chance to process what was happening until Brooks locked the door and turned on you, sending a hot jolt of fear through your entire body.

"Listen, I'm gonna be straight up with you," he said, pinching the tip of his nose. His eyes looked a little red in the bright lighting of the bathroom and you could see beads of sweat collecting at his temples. You tried to create more room but your back was already pressed against the sink: you had nowhere to go.

"I know what your deal is," he told you, his hands fidgeting at his sides. "I know you're only into that old fuck for his money but I can promise you, I'm about to have double what he's got."

You blinked slowly, struggling to keep your breathing even. Your entire body was rigid, muscles tense and straining under your skin, and your heart was pounding so loudly, you could feel it in your ears. How could he possibly know?

"W-what?" you stammered. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Brooks's arm darted up from his side to grip the back of your hair too roughly, making you cry out in surprise and grab onto his forearm.

"C'mon, don't play games with me. I know a gold digger when I see one. And that's perfectly fucking fine. I don't care! Mad respect. What I'm trying to tell you is I could give you so much more than him," Brooks told you, taking a step closer so his hips pinned you against the sink. You whimpered and tugged at his wrist but he wouldn't budge. "I got more money and live in fucking paradise, baby," he said, trying to sound seductive as he leaned forward and tugged your earlobe between his teeth, making you recoil in disgust.

"Get off me!" you shouted, shoving him backwards as hard as you could. It worked. He let go of the back of your head when he stumbled away, but unfortunately it only served to piss him off.

"Are you fucking serious?" he seethed, expression turning stormy as he closed the distance between you and grabbed the back of your neck so suddenly, you were too stunned to react. "Do you even realize what I'm offering you, here?"

"I don't care," you said, scratching frantically at the back of his hand, body writhing as you tried to escape. Your engagement ring caught on his skin, tearing it and making him hiss. "I don't want anything to do with you! Get the fuck away from me!" You tried to push him again but he was ready for it that time. He grabbed your wrists with one big hand and yanked your head backwards so your back was arched over the sink. Your eyes filled with tears as you squirmed and tried to wiggle out of his grasp to no avail.

"Dumb bitch," he snarled. "You could have someone younger with more money. Thousands of women would jump at this chance but you're too fucking stupid, huh?"

Amidst the tears, anger ripped through you and without even thinking twice, you twisted around in his grasp to sink your teeth into his hand. Brooks inhaled sharply and cursed under his breath, dropping your wrists but keeping a firm hold on the back of your neck. You shoved at him again, over and over, trying your hardest to loosen his grip so you could make a run for it, but you just weren't strong enough. And maybe it was the drugs coursing through his veins or his ego took too big of a hit, but you didn't anticipate what happened next:

He let you go.

At first, you thought someone had stepped in, but when your panicked eyes darted around the room, you found you were still alone. The sudden freedom made you hesitate and it probably wouldn't have made a difference anyway, but later you would wonder if maybe you had reacted faster, it would have saved you alot of hurt and pain.

"Stop fucking shoving me, I'm trying to change your miserable little life," he growled, lunging forward to push your chest with all his might. His strength sent you flying backwards but you managed to catch yourself before you hit the back of your head on the porcelain of the sink. As a result, you twisted around and smacked your mouth on the edge of the vanity. Pain instantly bloomed under your lips and you feebly cupped your mouth, whimpering in agony as blood began to trickle through your fingers.

"Look what you did!" Brooks roared, and by now you could hear Trevor's voice in the hallway. Tears streamed down your cheeks, mixing with the blood and dripping onto the white tile floor. You sobbed into your hands and tried to hide under the sink because at that point, you had no idea what he was capable of doing.

You had squeezed your eyes shut and braced for the impact of a fist or a foot but thankfully, none came. Had you the courage to open your eyes, you would have seen him come to the sobering realization of what he just did when he saw your blood on the floor. He swiped his hand anxiously over his mouth, eyes darting around the room while you cowered in fear, and slowly backed away towards the door.

"Brooks! Open the goddamn door!" Trevor's voice came from the hallway, his tone quiet to avoid any attention but still laced with anger. He did as his brother asked, shakily undoing the lock and brushing past him, and Trevor glanced into the room before the door shut. His eyes widened and his jaw fell open when he saw the state you were in and rushed inside.

"Oh, fuck, I'm so sorry," he murmured, crouching down next to you. "What can I do? T-tell me what to do!"

"Get ... Zoe," you choked out between sobs. He nodded and backed away slowly, still unable to believe what he was seeing before he rushed down the hallway.

Zoe sprung into action the moment she saw you in the bathroom and you had never felt so grateful for anyone in your life. She got you out of there before anyone could see and ushered you quickly into the waiting car by the curb. It wouldn't be until later that you discovered it was Trevor who ordered the car on standby while Zoe was doing her best to clean you up before getting you out of there. She must have been rattled because her hands were shaking but you never would have known it by the way she spoke and took control.

By the time you got back to the hotel, the sun had set and the lobby was relatively empty. You kept your tear soaked face tilted towards the floor with a napkin pressed against your mouth to stem the bleeding as Zoe led you to the elevators. Once you were in the safety and privacy of your room, you released a haggard sob that was a mix of relief and frustration.

"Let's get you to the bathroom," she said, taking you by the shoulders after kicking both your shoes off in the foyer.

While you were having a decidedly terrible fucking evening, Joel had been having the exact opposite experience on Glenn's boat. Somewhere tucked inside your purse, which was abandoned on the dining room table next to a handful of bloody tissues, your phone lit up with a text from Joel:

Heading back now - hope you're still up bc Glenn pulled me aside 10 min ago and told me he's giving me the fucking land! We gotta celebrate baby

It was late. You never answered his text so he assumed you were in bed, but fuck... maybe he should wake you up.

He got the fucking land.

Glenn didn't announce it yet, but he planned to soon. Joel finally felt like he could relax and maybe enjoy what little time you had left together. He tried not to think too hard about that last part and just focused on the present, like following through with his promise to you.

As he swiped his card through the reader, he smirked to himself, thinking of all the ways he could make things up to you, then froze when he walked into the foyer and saw an unfamiliar pair of high heels by the door. His gaze traveled up and saw all the lights were still on.

That was unusual.

He took a few tentative steps inside, expecting to maybe see you and Zoe by the pool or in the living room, but he was wrong. And it was way too quiet.

He called out your name as he ventured further into the room and then two things happened at once: right as Zoe emerged from the bathroom with a shaken look on her face, Joel saw the pile of bloody tissues next to your purse on the table.

Something was wrong.

His eyes darted up to Zoe's and she held up her hands, palms out, before shakily saying, "There was an accident-"

"Where is she?" he asked. He could feel his throat closing up and his chest beginning to squeeze tight. Fuck, it was hard to breathe.

"She's okay, but she's got a busted lip and -"

Joel tore past Zoe in the blink of an eye, noticing the light on underneath your closed bathroom door. He knocked urgently, saying, "It's me, open up," but you didn't answer. He could feel the anxiety taking hold and flooding his veins with adrenaline. His hands trembled when he knocked again.

"She's a little shook up," Zoe explained from behind him. He dragged his palms nervously over his face and turned to her.

"What happened?"

Zoe opened and closed her mouth, unsure how to answer. "I only got a little bit out of her, but she was attacked in the women's room at the restaurant."

"Attacked?" Joel repeated incredulously. It was so much worse than he thought.

Zoe nodded right when the bathroom door clicked unlocked. You opened it a crack and went back to curl up in the empty spa bath with the pillow and blanket Zoe had brought for you from the living room.

"I can't get her to go lay down in your bedroom," Zoe explained before Joel nodded and pushed the door open. The first thing he saw was the counter filled with bloodied white washcloths and tissues, the sight more than a little horrifying but when he saw your reflection in the mirror, he swiveled around with a jolt.

"Jesus Christ," he whispered, then rushed to the edge of the tub and fell to his knees. He reached out to cup your face; your puffy, swollen, bruised up face.

His eyes never stopped moving. They darted everywhere, taking in every single detail, but mostly lingering on your split lower lip and the bright purple bruise blooming below your eye. His thumb traced gently over your cheek and he felt a sharp twist in his chest when you winced.

"What happened?" he asked you softly.

You sniffled and shook your head but he pinched your chin and made you look him directly in the eye.

"Baby, what happened?" he asked again, "Someone attacked you? Did you call the cops?"

Again, you shook your head then glanced at Zoe over his shoulder.

"Just tell him, babe," she said encouragingly. You sighed and pulled the blanket tighter around your shoulders.

"Promise me you won't get mad," you began, voice thick and gravelly from crying. Joel pinched his eyebrows together and dropped his hand from your chin.

"I ain't gonna be mad at you, sweetheart," he whispered. You watched him swallow and you took a deep breath.

"Brooks cornered me," you finally admitted, tears stinging your tired eyes. "He followed me into the bathroom and locked the door. He - he said some nasty fucking shit and got mad when I told him to leave."

Joel's nostrils flared, his eyes scorching with rage.

"But I pushed him, Joel. I pushed him and so he pushed me back and then I fell into the sink and -"

"Why'd you push him, honey?" he asked, trying to sound calm but you could hear the anger simmering below the surface.

"Because... he kept grabbing me and wouldn't let go. Like, around my neck and hair. He wanted-"

"I know what he wanted," Joel said darkly, pushing himself up to stand then turned to acknowledge Zoe. "Can you stay with her for an hour?"

Zoe nodded and your eyes went wide.

"Joel-"

"It's alright, sweetheart. I'm gonna take care of it."

He stormed out of the bathroom, fists clenched at his sides, trying desperately to contain his anger but his face felt hot and his jaw already ached from how hard he was grinding his teeth.

You scrambled out of the tub, knocking your knee painfully against the porcelain, and raced after him. "Joel! You can't!"

"I'll be back in an hour," was all he said before snatching his wallet from the table and disappearing out into the hall.

"It'll be okay," Zoe said, appearing at your side to rub your back. "Why don't we try to put ice on your lip again?"

You wiped at your nose with the back of your hand and nodded, allowing her to refresh the washcloth with ice and getting you settled on the couch before stepping away to call Zachary to let him know where she was. She had clicked the button on the fireplace remote before she stepped outside to make her call so you stared blankly into the flames while praying Joel didn't do something incredibly stupid.

Joel was gone more than an hour. Zoe sat with you underneath a shared blanket while you watched some mindless television show and iced your face. The bleeding stopped long ago but the pain was beginning to set in, so she got you some ibuprofen and forced you to drink extra water, assuring you it would help.

By the time Joel finally returned, your eyes were beginning to droop but when you heard the door click open, you got a sudden burst of energy.

Sitting up straight and tugging the blanket around your knees, you craned your neck around, waiting for him to appear. He stepped in from the foyer a little disheveled but otherwise seemed fine, but when he locked eyes with you, you knew something happened.

"Thanks, Zoe. I'm sure Zach's worried 'bout you."

His voice was deep and commanding, eyes never leaving yours. She immediately stood, giving you one more hug and whispering in your ear to call if you needed anything, then gathered her things to leave.

You remained planted on the couch, unable to tear your eyes away from the look on Joel's face. When the front door clicked shut, signifying you were finally alone, his shoulders visibly sagged then he marched over to the couch.

Without a word, he scooped you up in his arms, blanket and all, and took you down the hall towards your bedroom. Now that you were closer, you could see some red marks on his cheek and neck, but you didn't have much time to dwell on it because to your surprise, Joel turned left instead of right, taking you into his room.

You hardly were ever in his room. The door was always closed when you walked by and your memory was hazy but you remembered it was bigger and he had his own bathroom attached. He carefully set you down on his bed, the side that remained untouched, before disappearing into his bathroom. You took a second to look around the now well lived in room. All around you were pieces of Joel: reading glasses, crumpled pieces of paper and a chapstick on his nightstand, a phone charger dangling from the wall next to his bed, a few articles of clothing were scattered around along with discarded shoes. If it didn't hurt to smile, you would have because you finally learned something new about Joel Miller: he was messy.

"Did you disinfect it?" Joel asked when he stepped back into the room with a wet towel. You slowly shook your head. You and Zoe had been more concerned about stopping the bleeding and then worried about damage to your teeth to really think about disinfectant.

He nodded and sat down on the edge of the bed, then beckoned you to come forward. You scooted closer and stretched out your neck, giving him better access to your face. He dabbed carefully at your lip, his eyes stormy while he still fought with the remnants of his adrenaline. When your eyes met, his gaze softened and he slowly dropped his hand to his lap.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, the emotion in his voice bewildering you.

"It's not your fault," you countered, but he shook his head and dropped his chin to his chest.

"Shoulda been there. Been leavin' you alone too much -"

"That's okay, Joel. That's why we're here, right? You need to do whatever it takes to get that land."

His heart sank and he closed his eyes. You obviously still hadn't checked your phone but he didn't bother telling you the news, anyway, because after what he just did to Brooks, he was certain that land was no longer his.

"You oughta get some rest, darlin'," he said softly while standing to head back into his bathroom. He dropped the washcloth into the tub, glancing briefly at his knuckles now that he had stepped out of the darkness of his bedroom. He did a piss poor job cleaning them up but he didn't care. He was exhausted and just wanted to go to bed.

When he came back into the bedroom, he frowned when he saw you with your hand on the doorknob.

"What're you doin'?"

You turned back to him and when he saw your face again, it felt like all the air got knocked out of him.

It's a miracle Joel didn't kill him.

"I'm... going back to my room," you replied, your voice so small and weak that it broke his heart. He shook his head and pointed back to the bed, right where you were sitting.

"Stay," he said, then softened his voice and added, "please."

Your hand dropped to your side immediately and you looked around. "My pajamas-"

"I'll get 'em," he said, pointing to the bed again. "Rest," he told you when he walked across the room, taking you gently by the shoulders and guiding you towards his bed. You did as you were told while he hurried across the hall for your clothes, then stopped at your bathroom for your toothbrush before returning and shutting the door.

You thanked him softly and disappeared into his bathroom to wash up. Joel nervously paced around his room, tossing his dirty clothes into an ever growing pile near the closet before tugging on a white tshirt and slipping into bed.

Shyly, you stepped out of the bathroom wearing a loose fitting cotton tank top and matching shorts. You looked at him and he ushered you forward in the darkness, so you flicked off the bathroom light and scurried into bed.

He couldn't stop himself. He immediately rolled onto his side and wrapped his arms around your middle, pulling you close, breathing in deep the scent of your shampoo and mint from his toothpaste.

You hummed happily and turned onto your side so his chest pressed against your back. The warmth of his arms surrounding you made you finally feel safe and at peace. But then your hand fell to rest on top of his and you froze, your eyes flying open in the pitch black room.

"Joel?"

"Hm?"

Your thumb gently brushed over the broken skin on his knuckles, then you sought out his other hand to do the same and your heart stopped.

"What did you do?" you whispered with a tremor to your voice.

He swallowed thickly and buried his face in the back of your neck before responding.

"What I had to."

You had a fitful night's sleep. If you weren't dreaming about a dark pair of eyes screaming horrible things at you in a bathroom, then you were dreaming about the aftermath of whatever Joel did to Brooks. Best case scenario, Glenn doesn't choose Joel to purchase the land. Worst case scenario, he gets arrested in the morning.

Both options fucking sucked.

If you were lucky, you got three hours of sleep. You laid in Joel's arms, listening to him softly snore behind you while the sky turned from pitch black to a deep, angry blue through the glass French doors that lead out to the pool.

Everything hurt, but the thing that hurt the most was your heart. You tried, you really did, but Brooks's words got to you. They festered under your skin, burrowed deep down and gnawed away at you until they found a permeant spot in your chest.

Nothing helped. A day ago you would have been thrilled to find yourself in Joel's bed, but as you laid there, all you could hear was gold digger, dumb bitch, look what you did!

Your mind had a vice grip on those words and it made you sick.

You wiggled in Joel's grasp, deciding there was no use in lying there if all you were going to do was work yourself up, but his grip tightened around you protectively and pulled you into his chest. You sighed and shifted around a bit more when his sleep filled voice startled you.

"Quit squirmin'."

You stilled and lifted your chin up. "I can't sleep, I was trying to get up without waking you."

"You ain't goin' anywhere," he grumbled, and for the first time since dinner, you felt the corner of your mouth tug into a careful smile. "Why can't you sleep? You hurtin'?"

You swallowed and dropped your gaze to his hands, which were pressed firm against your stomach. Now that the room was lighter, you could see the extent of the damage and it made you cringe.

"No," you whispered, only partially lying before closing your eyes so you wouldn't look at his knuckles any longer. "Can't stop thinking about -"

You cut yourself off but Joel knew what you were going to say. He sighed and pressed a kiss against your shoulder, surprising you despite the intimate position you had found yourself in all night.

He could feel how tense your muscles were so he gave your shoulder another kiss, but that time he let his lips linger a bit longer than was necessary. He smirked a little when he saw goosebumps flare across your skin, so he did it again.

"My poor girl," he whispered, his voice dropping to sound more seductive. "I'm so sorry you went through all this, baby. You don't deserve it," he added sweetly before brushing his lips over your shoulder and up the back of your neck. His exhale tickled you behind the ear and you felt yourself melt into his hold.

You boldly took one of his hands and dragged it up from where it rested against your stomach to lay flat between your breasts, letting him feel the way your heart raced, all for him.

His breath hitched in his throat, unable to resist brushing his palm experimentally over your hardening nipple, your thin top not providing much of a barrier. Instinctively, your back arched ever so slightly. Your ass pressed into his hips, causing him to groan, so you did it again.

"Christ," he murmured, tightening his grip, fingertips dimpling the soft flesh above your breast. "What're you doin', sweetheart?"

You only whimpered a little when you rolled your hips into him again to feel his erection pressing firmly against your ass. His responding growl sent a shiver down your spine and had your head tilting back so his mouth could suck on a spot behind your ear.

"Joel, please," you breathed. He made a little noise of disapproval in the back of his throat but that didn't stop him from biting gently at your neck.

"Don't think it's a good idea," he murmured into your hair, but the throb of his cock pressed against you said otherwise. "You've been through so much, you need your rest. You gotta heal, honey."

You whined impatiently and twisted around in his arms so you could finally see him. His hair was a mess but his eyes were bright and his skin had a pink tint, giving away his aroused state, as if you didn't already know.

"Please," you begged softly, brushing your lips carefully against his. Your hand slid up to rake through the matted hair on the back of his head while you nipped eagerly at his lower lip. "Please make it feel better, Joel."

His eyelids fluttered for a moment as he felt himself losing the battle. With a deep groan, he rolled over to pin you underneath him. He made a mistake when his instincts took over and he pressed his lips firmly against yours and you whimpered painfully. He immediately drew back and inspected your wounded lip for further injury, guilt flashing in his eyes.

"It's okay, I'm okay," you whispered, pulling him back down but tilting your chin up so he could kiss your neck, instead. You felt his muscles relax, his movements slowing and growing more tender, but kept his hips pressed against your core as a reminder of how hard you made him. "I'm okay," you whispered again, sliding your eyes closed with a soft moan while his mouth dragged up and down the column of your throat and his hand roamed freely underneath the hem of your shirt.

With hardly any effort at all, he lifted your tank above your head and tossed it onto the floor. His mouth immediately latched onto one breast while his hand played with the other. Between his tongue and fingers working steadily over your nipples, it took no time at all before you were a puddle underneath him.

"So beautiful," he murmured into your skin. His hand trailed down your side to play with the drawstring of your shorts, giving you another chance to ask him to stop, but instead you followed his lead and dipped your fingers past the waistband of his boxers. He inhaled sharply against your chest when you wrapped your fist around his cock for the first time and had to remind himself to be gentle when he heard you gasp at his size.

"Y'sure, baby?" he rasped, unable to stop his hips from thrusting lightly into your hand while you stroked him up and down.

"Mhmm," you mumbled, voice getting lost somewhere in your throat. You had never wanted someone as badly as you wanted him. It felt like he was everywhere. His scent, his hands, the pressure of his weight on top of you... you had never been more sure about anything in your life.

You hoped he didn't notice the nervous tremble in your hands when you pushed his boxers down his legs but after he tore off his shirt, he shakily fumbled with your own shorts and you had to hold back the smile that threatened to stretch across your broken lip. Was he nervous, too?

He sat back to drink you all in when you were finally bare before him, his eyes hungrily roaming over your soft curves, making you forget about every little imperfection you ever obsessed over. You only had a moment to admire his broad, tanned chest and thick biceps before he fell back onto his elbows to cage you in.

Your pulse thrummed fast under his gaze, the skin at your jugular twitching with each nervous beat of your heart.

"Wish I could kiss you," he admitted, eyes darting down to your lip.

"Me, too," you murmured before reaching down between your bodies. Your fingers wrapped around his thick length and you spread your legs wider to accommodate him. You guided him to your center, eyes never leaving his, before releasing his cock to wrap your arms around his ribs instead.

"Keep your eyes on me, okay?" he asked, voice a little broken at the request. You nodded and held your breath when you felt his tip breach your entrance. Of course, when his hips shifted to slide halfway inside, your eyes fluttered closed and your arms fell to grab at the sheets, the stretch taking your breath away.

"Baby, c'mon," he begged, nipping at your jaw. With a gasp, your eyes flew open to find his and nodded, wordlessly telling him to continue. One of his hands reached for your wrist and pinned it into the bedding next to your head. His fingers spread wide and found yours, lacing your hands together when he pushed in the rest of the way with a soft grunt.

"O-oh, fuck," you panted, struggling for air as you wiggled your hips, your cunt feeling like it was stretched to the limit. Joel watched you squirm underneath him and he couldn't help the way his chest swelled with pride.

"Yeah, you like that, baby? That feel good?" he muttered, cock throbbing inside you. You nodded, lips parted and eyes glassy, fingers flexing around his. Your fingertips brushed over his now scabbed over knuckles and a wave of your slick soaked his cock, turned on by the physical evidence of what he did to defend you.

And he noticed.

He noticed the way your eyelids drooped and your jaw went slack when you felt his knuckles again. Joel drew his hips back before slowly pushing his way back in, giving you his cock nice and slow.

"Could've killed him," he told you. Your eyes snapped open wide, looking up at him all soft and doe eyed. "Could've killed him for touching you, y'know that?"

You whimpered and wrapped your legs around his waist. Then your bruised, swollen lower lip trembled and his gaze darted down. Very carefully, he grazed his lips over your wound, both of you breathing in deeply as his hips pulled back and rocked into you once again. The stretch was intense, the feeling of him filling you up so perfectly overwhelming your senses.

You murmured his name and nuzzled your nose against his face, growing frustrated you couldn't kiss him. Once he set a slow, yet steady, rhythm, he pulled your hand up above your head, pushing it deep into the pillows, fingers tightening around yours as he plunged inside of you over and over. You could sense his frustration, too, by the way your jaws hung open, hovering over the other, breathing sharp gasps and pants into each other's mouths each time his hips snapped into you, knocking the air from your lungs.

"Wish I could taste you," you whispered against his open mouth. His brows pinched together, your confession rattling him for a second. "Want to know how your cock feels on my tongue. Wonder how much I can take," you continued, enjoying the way he was reacting way too much. Unconsciously, his hips picked up the pace, fucking into you a little harder and pushing you up into the pillows. His face contorted as if he were in pain and he squeezed his eyes shut.

"Can't say shit like that," he groaned, letting his forehead fall to rest on your shoulder. "Gonna make me come. You feel too good, fuck," he whimpered. "Shoulda been fuckin' you since we got here."

You smirked, as much as your lips would allow, anyway, before replying.

"Better make up for lost time, then."

His teeth sunk into the skin stretching across your collarbone and you moaned, slipping your fingers through his curls with your free hand. You held him there against your neck and shoulder, sighing at the trail of licks and kisses he left on your skin while his cock continued to mold a path inside you, your cunt squeezing around him with every sharp thrust.

"Shit, that's my girl," he rasped, tongue flicking out lazily to lick at your sweaty skin. "Takin' everythin' I give you. This pretty pussy just needed my cock, hm? Needed me to make it all better?"

My girl.

Stars exploded behind your eyes when you squeezed them shut, his filth hitting you like a goddamn freight train.

"Yes!" you cried out, tipping your head back into the pillow and tightening your hold on his hand. "Yes, Joel, fuck - feels so good. S-so deep. It's so much," you whined while he sucked another mark into the soft flesh above your left breast.

He soothed you with a reassuring hum before unlocking one of your legs from his waist and hooking it over his shoulder. You gasped, the sharp angle making it feel far more intense than before, dragging you closer and closer to your climax.

"Oh, my god!" you cried out when the tip of his cock nudged against a spot inside you that had your legs shaking and your vision blurring. Joel reared back, your hand falling limply from his hair, so he could fuck you harder. He huffed and panted for air, staring down at you with his jaw clenched tight and sweat trailing down the sides of his face.

The noises you were making should have embarrassed you but you didn't care, especially since Joel appeared to enjoy them so much. You gazed up at him, gasping for air every time his hips slammed into yours. You probably looked like a mess but he didn't seem to mind at all.

"Good?" was all he managed to grunt, entirely fixated on making you come.

"Yes," you whined, "please don't stop. Christ, Joel, I -"

You cut yourself off with a low moan, the relentless pace he set bringing you to the brink of an orgasm so intense, tears were already filling your eyes. He felt your muscles tensing when your breath started to come in jagged little gasps and he quickly cupped your face to tilt it up towards him, eager to watch you fall apart again, but this time promised to be much more satisfying.

With a deep growl, he ground his hips into you, rubbing the coarse hairs that curled at the base of his cock against your clit, soaking up your arousal with each pass.

Your mouth fell open and your face crumpled when you came, a litany of curses spilling from your lips while Joel continued to drag against your clit, drawing out your orgasm as long as possible while he actively fought back his own.

"Fuck, that's pretty," he grunted, still holding your face in his massive hand while the last waves washed over you. You nuzzled blindly into his palm, his other hand still holding yours so tightly, his knuckles began to slowly trickle fresh blood. "So goddamn pretty f'me, baby," he added, voice growing strained. His gaze dropped to where you were connected, watching how your slick had spread all over his cock and stomach, then flicked his eyes back up to you.

"I'm gonna come," he whimpered, cheeks puffing, sweat soaked hair sticking to his forehead, and brown eyes fixed on the now relaxed expression on your face. "Are you - can I -"

"Yes," you said quickly, "yes, Joel. God, yes, please come inside me, please," you pleaded. His eyes rolled to the back of his head when he came, your begging being the last push he needed to fall over the edge with a loud groan.

You watched in a trance, memorizing the look of ecstasy on his face, the little ungh followed by a low hiss each time he thrusted forward, shooting his spend deep inside your used cunt until his arms shook and he finally let go of your hand, leg falling from his shoulder.

"Fuck," he gasped, each of you fighting for air while you waited for your hearts to stop racing. His hands gently braced your hips before he slipped out of your wet clutch, his cock still half hard and covered with your combined release. You made a little noise at the loss, at the sudden feeling of emptiness, but he quickly fell to your side and pulled your back against his chest, soothing you with soft strokes against your hip as you worked through the aftershocks of your orgasm.

"Think you can go to sleep now?" he asked, his voice hoarse and muffled from his face burrowing into your back.

"Yeah," you sighed, wiggling in his hold until you were comfortable. His seed was still dripping out of you but the last thing you wanted to do was clean it up. You wanted to feel him there for as long as possible, even though you knew the ache in your hips would serve as a constant reminder for the next day or two, at least.

"Good," he grumbled as if he were annoyed, but you could feel his lips curving into a smile against your skin.

The last thing you remembered before falling asleep were the little bright red dots that stained his knuckles on the hand that was connected to the arm wedged underneath you, holding you safe and sound.

"French fries for breakfast?" you asked him, shooting Joel a look of surprise. He shrugged and popped another one in his mouth before patting the bed next to him.

"They're my weakness."

You giggled and practically jumped back into bed, your hair dripping from your shower and the soft, white robe caressing your still highly sensitive skin.

"Do you share?" you asked him with a suggestive tone in your voice. He quirked an eyebrow at you before feeding you a fry.

"Food? Yes."

You chewed and hummed as you leaned into his shoulder, eyes drifting to the television. You furrowed your brow as you tried to figure out the movie, but his hand around your shoulder distracted you when he tugged on the soft cotton.

"Women? No," he added before dipping his other hand past the collar, cupping your breast still concealed by the robe. You inhaled sharply, your spine automatically twisting to cater to him, to give him easier access to your body like it was its only function. You wrapped your arms around the back of his neck as he pushed you down into the mattress, movie long forgotten. When he began to suck on your neck, your lips still off limits, you groaned and gave his shoulder a playful shove.

"Look at how many marks you already left on me," you pouted, tugging open your robe with one hand so he could see.

He pulled back so he could admire his handiwork before giving you a sly grin.

"Good," he said before resuming his work on your throat. And if you didn't fucking love it so much, you might have protested a bit more but instead, you craned your neck to give him better access. You sighed and felt your body relax under him, cunt already softening and preparing to take him again when your gaze fell on the clock beside his bed.

"Oh, shit! Joel! It's almost ten!" you exclaimed, tapping on his shoulder to snap him out of his lust filled haze.

"So?"

"So?" you repeated incredulously. "What about work?"

"What 'bout it?" he mumbled, hips digging into the apex of your thighs.

"Don't you have a company to run?"

Joel scoffed against your neck and finally pulled away. He pressed his weight into his forearms, which bracketed your head, and kissed the tip of your nose.

"I'm the boss. Think I can do what I want."

He was skipping work for you? Your heart practically leapt out of your chest and into the palm of his hand. You had to fight back the huge smile that pulled at your face for fear of reopening the cut on your lip, but the way your face went hot and your eyes shyly dropped from his was enough to show how happy you were.

He grinned and leaned back down to graze his teeth along your jaw. As far as either of you were concerned, nothing could touch you in the safety of his room. In your minds, the repercussions of the day before were a problem for another time.

"Well, what do you want to do, then?" you teased, gasping when you felt his already hard cock nudge against the inside of your thigh.

"You," he answered gruffly, then as fast as lightening, his hand flicked open your robe to expose yourself to him.

"Christ, you're perfect," he groaned before descending on your nipple, his teeth pinching at the sensitive bud ever so slightly while you whimpered and writhed under him.

His phone vibrated in the sheets next to you, but he ignored it.

"Joel," you breathed, blinking fast to clear your hazy vision. "Joel, your phone."

He groaned and begrudgingly released your breast but remained on top of you as he fished around for his phone.

"Gotta tell Jeff to fuck off, then -"

He paused as he stared at the screen, the blood draining from his face.

Fear shot through you and you scrambled to sit up.

"What is it?"

He swallowed the lump in his throat as he reread whatever popped up on his screen before dragging his eyes away to look at you.

"It's Glenn. He's in the lobby."

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[aurorawritestoescape]

IN HIS ARMS || QZ!Joel Miller x f!reader || 5,2k

Summary: You meet a smuggler in the QZ and can't resist your attraction to him.

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, a bit of fluff, unspecified age gap, Fedra soldier!reader, unprotected piv (wrap it up), creampie, mirror sex, degradation, rough sex, praise kink, size kink, reader really loves Joel’s arms (who doesn’t), manhandling, alcohol consumption, use of a morning after pill, mention of guns, mention of canon-typical violence. Reader has hair. Joel can pick her up. Pics are only for the mood, reader has no other specific physical descriptions.

A/n: this is written for PPCU Body Worship writing challenge, created by talented, sweet and beautiful @joelmillerisapunk 💖 I got ‘Arms’ and immediately thought of meaty, beefy QZ Joel. Smooches to my lovely beta @milla-frenchy 😘 Dividers by @saradika-graphics 💕 Love y’all! Hope you will like the story!❤️

MASTERLIST

“Let’s go.”

“Sure you need me there? It’s your deal, Ronnie. And you know you’re armed, right? Why do I always have to hold your hand?” you complain, while your eyes are scanning the crowd at a public hanging for any sign of disturbance. It’s not your favorite task but Fedra sends enough soldiers here to keep things under control so it usually goes smoothly. That’s probably why your friend Ronnie arranged a deal right in the middle of your shift.

“I’m nervous, ok,” he admits, glancing at you, “The dude’s fucking scary. Never worked with him before. But I’ve heard stuff. You’re just gonna stand there, that’s all. Don’t need to talk.”

You’ve known Ronnie since you were teens in a Fedra camp. Now both officers, you are still inseparable, though at this moment you’d prefer to be as far away from him as you could because in case you two get caught, you both will be a spectacle of the next hanging. Ronnie’s pleading eyes always work on you and the little weasel knows it well so you curse and follow him to the place of the meetup.

As soon as you see the smuggler, standing in a secluded spot far away from the prying eye, your heart starts beating faster. And not because he scares you. Yes, he’s huge and looks very unfriendly, thanks to his furrowed brows and the closed off stance which actually happens to be the culprit of your unexpected reaction. His pose accentuates the beauty of his arms as he’s crossing them in front of his chest. It’s a threatening sight, same as his gaze, but like a moth to a flame, you’re pulled to the man immediately. All thoughts in your head are replaced with only one - he’s fucking hot.

Ronnie slowly comes up to the man, feigning confidence.

“Who the fuck is this?” the smuggler asks, nodding at you with his chin.

“Just a friend. Don’t worry, Joel.”

“I ain’t the one to worry here, kid,” he gruffs, uncrossing his arms as his fists clench in a threatening gesture and you can sense the waves of panic, coming from your friend. “I prefer to do these things one on one. Don’t need an audience. Ya got me?”

“Yeah, ‘k. Next time I’ll be alone.”

“Hope so.”

Joel looks you up and down and you suddenly feel too hot. Standing a step further from him than Ronnie and not saying anything, you’re ogling the man with hungry eyes. Joel seems to relax and the men finally exchange the goods— pills for your friend and ration cards for the smuggler. They’re talking about the product, scheduling the next deal, and you should be on the lookout, should be attentive to the surroundings, like you always are, but your mind, as well as other parts, is fully focused on the stranger.

Joel’s hairy forearms are thick and strong and every little move makes his muscles flex and bulge out of his rolled up sleeves of the denim shirt. His shoulders are broad and the fabric, containing them, is strained to the limit. You’ve never been a biter in bed but suddenly you want to sink your teeth into his arms, lick them all over, glide your hands over the vast expense of his skin, grab them and feel them tighten around your body, encompassing you fully, while his cock stretches…

“Hey!” Ronnie exclaims, interrupting your horny daydreams, pulling on your sleeve and you blink at him, trying to shake away the visions of the man, doing filthy things to you.

“Let’s go!” he says for what appears not the first time, and you smile awkwardly, noticing Joel’s smirk. His arms are crossed again, but now he’s looking at you with a twinkle of curiosity in his piercing eyes, his heavy gaze lightened up.

You take a step away, following your friend, but Joel stops you.

“Sweetheart, wait!”

The pet name hits you right in the pussy and you pause and turn back, confused by why he’s calling you.

“C’mere,” the man motions for you to return to him with a shake of his head, his bear hands shoved in the jeans pockets.

“We’re in a hurry, man,” Ronnie frowns, thinking he’s coming to your rescue, but you turn to him and say,

“It’s ok. Wait for me over there.”

You have no idea what Joel wants from you, but you’re eager to find out. Not hiding his anxiety, your friend takes a few steps away from you and stands at the gate, glancing in your direction from time to time while his hand is resting on his gun.

“Yes? Joel, right?” You ask, coming up to the smuggler and using every last drop of your will not to leer at his mighty arms again.

“Yeah. What’s your name?”

You reply with a little smile and see a smirk tug at his plush lips when he asks, “Like what you see?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve been starin' at me like at a piece of meat. No use denyin' it."

You avert your eyes, chewing on your lip. You probably should be embarrassed to be caught ogling the man, but life in this miserable world taught you to take what you want whenever you can. Especially if it's being handed to you.

"I'm not." You look back at Joel with defiance in your gaze. "I think you're hot."

Joel’s chest expands when he takes a deep breath, the shirt’s buttons hanging for dear life. His piercing eyes turn a shade darker as he asks,

"Wanna do somethin' about it?"

Your heart rate increases and the warmth of arousal between your thighs makes you shift on your feet.

"What are you suggesting?"

"Come over to my place tonight. Around 8. Ask your friend for the address. He knows."

You don't reply for a few seconds, making it seem like you're thinking about your answer, although your pussy has been aching since the moment you saw the smuggler so there's no way you're going to reject his invitation.

"'K", you reply, feigning nonchalance, while excitement is twisting your stomach.

“What?! Are you out of your mind? You're gonna see him?” Ronnie hisses at you, as you two are walking back to the square. “He’s dangerous! Do you realize that? He’s huge! Have you seen his arms?”

“Oh, I’ve seen his arms alright,” you reply with a dreamy smile, sensing butterflies in your belly.

“Fuck, you’re so stupid when you’re horny. If I find you tomorrow dead in a ditch, I’ll tell your lifeless face ‘I told you so!’”

“Jesus, man,” You giggle, playfully punching Ronnie’s shoulder. “I’ll be ok. I promise.”

The night can’t come soon enough. Still wearing your uniform, you rush to meet the man who's been occupying your mind all day. When Joel opens the door to you, you swallow loudly seeing him in the same denim shirt and dark blue jeans. You’ve been dreaming of his huge arms around your body, so your panties are completely soaked, and having had no time to change after your shift, you hope to slide them off as fast as possible.

“Hi,” you greet the man, stepping into his apartment.

“Howdy.”Joel closes the door and stands next to you, while his gaze is sliding up and down your body. You look around the apartment, getting a whiff of his scent— sweat with a subtle trace of whiskey.

“Are you from Texas originally?” You ask, glancing up at him, slightly intoxicated by his closeness.

“Yeah. Want a drink?”

He walks to the living area and you follow before leaving your guns at the door.

“What do you have?”

“Whiskey, vodka…water.”

“Vodka’s fine,” you reply, stepping up to a worn out couch and sitting down.

“Oh, are you a vodka girl?”

“I’m a ‘whatever burns’ girl, but vodka works faster on me,” you smile and Joel smirks, crossing his arms again. You swallow loudly, seeing his sexy tan forearms in the golden light of the setting sun. Fuck, you wanna touch them.

“Why d’ya need it to work fast? Doesn’t seem like you need any liquid courage.”

“Really?”

Joel goes to the kitchen and in a few seconds returns with a half empty Smirnoff bottle and two shot glasses. He plops next to you on the couch with a grunt and pours out the alcohol.

You drink yours in one go and Joel follows. The vodka burns and calms you down a little. Joel clears his throat before he speaks,

“This morning your friend was shaking like a leaf. And you… You were practically undressing me with your eyes, sweetheart.”

You smile and drop your gaze down to your lap.

“Well, Ronnie is a nervous guy and I’m …”

“A needy little slut?”

You shoot your eyes up at him and see a smug smile, tugging at his lips, as he awaits your reaction. You should probably feel offended or angry, but instead your core burns brighter at his degrading comment and your pussy flutters, as if proving him right.

He reads your reaction immediately.

“Oh you like that, huh?”

“What?”

“When I call you a slut.”

“I don’t mind,” you mumble while your mind is shutting down with every dirty word he throws at you.

“Yeah, you looked like a thirsty whore this morning. And I see that nothing’s changed.”

You’re barely breathing at this point, as waves of arousal ripple through your body, making you squirm in your seat.

“I…I just really like your arms.” Your gaze shamelessly slides over his body, so big and powerful.

“My arms?” Joel’s brows shoot up and he turns his head to look at his arm, resting on the back of the couch, as if trying to understand your attraction.

“Yeah,” you nod slowly, ogling the muscles straining his sleeve.

“Wanna touch ‘em, baby?”

“Yes, please”.

“So polite. Wanna call you a good girl but we already know that you prefer ‘a slut’.”

Joel chuckles and narrows his eyes, watching you for a few seconds, while you’re melting under his lustful gaze, sinking in the sticky pit of desire. Through the fog in your head you hear his voice, low but still powerful.

“How about we skip the pleasantries then and get to the thing you came for.”

“What’s that?”

“I’m gonna fuck you. And let you touch my arms.”

Your breath hitches and your body tingles all over. You can’t agree fast enough.

“Yeah, ok.”

“Do you always say ‘yes’ to everything, little slut?” he smirks, playing with you like a cat with a mouse.

You try to come up with a witty response but your mind is clouded with lust so you just shake your head with probably the dumbest look ever.

“Can I use your bathroom?” You mumble and when he points you in its direction, swiftly walk there.

You close the door in the little room and check your face in the mirror. It’s the same as every day except for your glossy eyes. You rinse your face, trying to come to your senses, look a little less horny but it’s all in vain. The desire overtook your body completely so you dry yourself and leave the room.

When you return to Joel, you find him on the couch in the same spot and in the same position. Only now he’s completely naked.

A shiver goes down your spine from a new surge of arousal, tightening your core.

You barely hear him, your mind is fully occupied by the image of this gorgeous, huge man, waiting to fuck you. Everything about him makes your pussy beat with the rhythm of your heart - his soft belly, his long, girthy, slightly curved semi hard cock, resting on his thick thigh, his broad hairy chest and muscular arms. Seeing them without the confines of the clothes completely shuts off your brain and you take a step towards him, mesmerized by his muscles, wishing to feel them already.

“Take your clothes off, baby.”

You hardly hear him, taking in every inch of his body.

“Girl! Undress. Fuckin’ hell,” Joel groans and you shake your head, waking up from a horny trance, and start discarding your clothes hastily, piece by piece while his dark gaze is set on you. You should be more graceful and seductive taking them off, but your aching pussy makes your movements rushed and determined. When you’re completely naked, except for your panties, you hook your thumbs into the waistband of the last piece of clothing, but Joel stops you.

He gets up and walks to you, his big cock in his veiny hand.

“Wanna do it myself,” he mumbles and stands next to you, at your side, so close that you feel his warm breath on your cheek and breasts, his naked chest brushing against your shoulder, his manhood poking your thigh.

“Pretty little thing,” he whispers, taking in your body, while his hand slides down your back, leaving chills in its wake. You raise your big eyes at him, your lips parted. “Pity you get so dumb though,” he chuckles and lightly squeezes your asscheek. His hand stays there while the other one cups your breast and grazes your nipple with his calloused thumb, making it stiff. You moan and he groans.

Joel’s palm on your ass moves lower, and reaches your pussy, covered by the wet panties. He slips his finger between your asscheeks and rubs your drippping hole over the gusset. You softly whimper and he plants a light kiss on your cheek, stroking your folds over the fabric.

“She’s been crying for me all day, huh?” he mumbles, placing his large warm hand on your belly, the other one still caressing your cunt. “Pussy so needy she shut down your whole little brain. Yeah, baby?”

All you can do is nod, your senses fully focused on the way his thick fingers are rubbing your aching cunt over the underwear.

“She must be cold, sweetheart, being in a pair of wet panties all day like that?” He coos at you.

“Yeah”, you reply, barely breathing, already feeling your orgasm build because of his light touches. “Didn’t have time to change. I have a sexy pair at home.”

Joel breathes out a chuckle, “I bet you do, little slut. Would love to see ‘em too one day.”

The only response you can give is a mewl.

He steps in front of you, his hand leaving your pussy, and you whine. Joel tsks at you and pinches your chin with his fingers to lift your face to his.

“Oh, my pretty bimbo, already cock drunk,” he laughs, locking eyes with you.

Joel’s so huge, you should probably be scared, but all you feel is a pathetic need to be completely destroyed by him.

“Lights are on but…fuck, you’re gone,” he mocks you, looking into your hazy blown out eyes.

“Listen to me,” he commands, as his fingers slightly shake your head, getting your attention. “How do you want it? Gentle or rough, sweetheart?”

“Rough,” you croak back without any hesitation.

“Good. Then do what I say and we gonna have a great time, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Good little slut.”

Your breaths are short and fast as you’re blinking, starting at him like a mindless fuck doll. Suddenly, you gasp when he grabs the back of your thighs with his massive hands and lifts you, throwing your legs around his waist. You grab onto his broad shoulders and he carries you away from the couch and to the bedroom.

He drops you on the bed, old and stiff, but you don’t care. You have no time or ability to think about anything, because as soon as you’re on your back, Joel pins you to the lumpy mattress with his heavy torso and kisses you. He’s not asking for a kiss, he’s taking it but you willingly open your mouth, welcoming his hot tongue. A happy moan escapes your mouth, when you finally glide your palms over his huge arms. He slides your panties off and cups your pussy with his huge warm palm.

“Messy whore,” he mumbles against your mouth.

Joel’s assertive, passionate and as horny as you are, and you smile against his lips, enjoying his desire for you.

He begins peppering kisses along your jaw, your neck, leaving hickeys on his way to your breasts.

You whimper when his mouth finds your nipple and gasp when he nips at it. He licks the pain away and starts sucking on it while his hands are roaming your heated body.

You grab onto his shoulders and shift your hips under his arm. Joel’s slurping and growling, caressing your breast with his lips and tongue, but you crave more so you start grinding your wet pulsating pussy against his arm. Your movements immediately send you to the precipice of your climax. His muscles flex as you rub your clit against them, smearing your slick over his tan skin, and Joel parts from your tit for a few seconds to watch you use his arm to get yourself off.

“Look at this sloppy little pussy. Gonna need a shower after this. Or…,” he smirks and gets back to suckling your other breast.

Each motion of his muscles is helping you to come as you’re dragging your pussy up and down his heavy limb. Soon you throw your head back, dipping it into the pillow when a hard climax hits you and your cunt contracts around nothing, as euphoria is coursing through your veins, taking away the last of your clear thinking.

“That’s it— take it, slut— come for me — jus’ like that,” Joel mumbles against your trembling chest but you hardly hear him, so deep in the ocean of desire, all sounds around you are muffled.

The next thing you feel is his hands grabbing your shoulders and lifting you. Joel makes you sit up and wraps his heavy hand around the back of your neck.

“Look what you’ve done, messy girl.”

He nods at his arm, glistening with your cum and slick and then growls, “Lick it clean.”

With a hazy smile you sit on your heels, getting comfortable. Then you take his arm between your hands and reach for it. Your tongue slides over his hot wet skin and you flutter your eyes shut, reveling in the sensations of his firm muscles under your tongue and the earthy taste of your juices.

“Attagirl,” Joel praises you and slightly squeezes the back of your neck to make you move your head lower and lap up all the mess you’ve left on his skin.

When you finish, Joel lifts your head and sees you staring at his throbbing cock with empty but hungry eyes. It’s leaking precum generously and you almost drool looking at it. You should probably be nervous to take his huge length but all you feel is feral lust.

Placing his palm under your jaw, Joel tilts your head up and searches for your eyes.

“Damn, lookin’ so dumb right now. Lucky you remember how to breathe, little whore.”

He laughs at you and grabs your face, as his fingers dig into your cheeks, making your lips pout.

You whine and he pulls you into his chest. You hug him as if afraid to float away and he gives you a few moments of rest while you are panting, snuggling into his embrace after the shuddering orgasm.

Then he lifts your chin and locks eyes with you. Your breath hitches as you’re struck by his handsome face, which leans down and he kisses you again, gently and slowly, wrapping you tighter in his embrace. Then he asks,

“Why do you like my arms so much?”

You blink a few times, trying really hard to understand the question, drunk on his taste and the way he’s holding you, but when the meaning finally reaches your brain, you stumble over your words.

“I… they… jus’ so big. And … fuck, very hot.”

You feel his broad chest shake with a quiet laugh. “Ready for my cock, baby?” You nod your head with a soft mewl.

“Wanna watch my arms when I’m railing you?”

“Yeah, yes, please.”

Joel hums and gets up before manhandling you off the bed and leading you to a wardrobe. He’s holding you under your arms, noticing that your weak legs are barely able to move, still tingling after your orgasm. He places you like a fuck doll in front the wardrobe door with a mirror and stands behind you. He’s so big and broad that you can see his shoulders and arms perfectly in the reflection. Your gaze glides over your own naked body, and you notice a path of hickeys along your neck and breasts and your core ignites again at the sight of his passion. Then you look at Joel, his eyes are obsidian, the expression is carnal and hungry, and you moan, feeling his cock slap your lower back.

His gaze drops down before he pushes your legs aside with his knee, his thick fingers dig into your hips and he pulls your ass, making you stick it out. Trying to steady yourself, you brace your hands on the mirror in front of you, but he grumbles,

“Not the mirror, stupid. You’ll break it, cut yourself.”

You swiftly move your hands further apart onto the wooden surface.

“Sexy but so dumb,” he mumbles as his eyes return to your ass and his cock. You watch his face, serious and concentrated, and sense his tip prod your sopping hole.

“Fuck,” he curses and pushes his cock deeper, slightly bending his knees to insert it into your tight pussy easier.

You push your ass out more for him, already whimpering like a whore, as you feel your walls slowly part to accommodate his stiff cock. It stings but you welcome the sensation of his manhood spreading your pussy until he bottoms out and you both moan at the sensation.

“Ahh— she feels amazing, baby,” he grunts and you smile dumbly at his reflection in the mirror.

“Such a sloppy cunt,” he murmurs, starting to plunge his length in and out of you with a fast rhythm, “oh, yeah — yeah — yeah—.”

His fat cock is massaging your walls deliciously, kissing your cervix with every deep thrust and you mewl with pleasure and scratch the wooden surface of the wardrobe with your nails.

“Naughty kitten. Tess will kill you if you leave marks on her furniture,” Joel chuckles through heavy panting, squeezing your hips and watching your cunt swallow his glistening cock.

“Who’s Tess?” You ask, not really giving a fuck and he doesn’t reply.

Instead he grants you your biggest wish - he pulls you flush to his chest and wraps his arms around your torso from behind. Your hands immediately fly to grab onto his strong limbs. Joel’s right arm is under your breasts, slightly pushing them up. The other one is keeping you in place, pressed to your chest, between your tits, his giant hand on your throat. His thick fingers curl around your neck but he doesn’t squeeze it, just holds you close against his broad torso.

The sensation and the vision of his powerful muscular arms bonding you to him like that, make your pussy contract and Joel growls in your ear, his breath hot and wet,

“Squeezing me already? Fuck, you’re easy.”

You whine and Joel nibbles on your ear lobe and rasps,

“Hold tight, baby, it’s gonna be a wild ride.”

As soon as the words reach your ear, he begins rolling his hips and dragging his cock in and out of your tight pussy, hard and fast.

You grab onto his bulging muscles better, and as he’s increasing the pace, you’re scratching him with your nails, leaving white marks on his golden skin and whimpering.

“Yeah, take it, dumb little whore. Gonna fuck the last of your brain out of your pretty head.”

Your breasts bounce while he’s fucking you and you bite your puffy lips, trying to muffle your moans, but Joel commands against yout ear,

“Want you to be loud, baby. C’mon. Let them all hear how good im fuckin’ ya.”

You would do anything he told you this moment so your lips part and you let your pleasured noises out, as they mix with the sound of skin rhythmically slapping against skin and his animalistic groans.

Reveling in the sensation of Joel, pounding your crying cunt, you let your hands wander all over his forearms and shoulders, squeezing and scratching them slightly, wishing to memorize the feeling of their strength under your hungry touch. Your vision is shaking with every mighty thrust of his hips but you’re watching the reflection of you two closely, drowning in the image of this tall broad man using you like a mindless fuck doll, caging you in his powerful arms and tears well up in your eyes at how amazing it feels. Your mind and body are focused on this pleasure, suffering and worries of the reality are gone and the drops of pure happiness spill and fall on his arms.

Joel notices you crying and stops fucking you, swiftly pulling out and turning you around.

“What is it, baby? Did I hurt ya?”

His dark eyes, a second ago filled with carnal desire now worried and concerned, dart all over your face and body, searching for the reason of your tears.

You grab onto him and shake your head,

“No, no, i’m fine — feels so good - you feel so good, Joel.”

“Fuckin’ hell, sweetheart,” he breathes out, pulling you into his bear hug and rubbing your back with his warm hands.

“Please keep fucking me,” you mumble against his hairy chest and he barks a laugh before throwing you back on the bed, making you squeal with excitement.

Joel lies down and manhandles you to straddle him.

“Sit on my cock, little slut,” he commands, eyes darting between yours, reading your reaction.

“Yes, yes,” you mumble, wrapping your hand around his hot hard cock and lifting your hips, hovering over it. You don’t make him wait and immediately sink down on his weeping manhood, as your mouth falls open and your head tilts back.

Joel’s hands are holding your hips when you start riding him, and then snake up to your breasts to knead them, pinch and twist your pebbled nipples.

You run your fingers over his forearms from the elbows to his wrists and grab his hand, intertwining your fingers. Not pausing your lustful dance on his cock, you gently kiss his palm, his hand, then your lips glide down, leaving open mouth kisses over his wrist, the underside of his forearm and his elbow, darting your tongue out and tasting his salty skin. You lean forward, your nipples brushing his chest, and kiss his biceps, using your tongue, and Joel moans, watching you practically make out with his arm.

“Fuck, you’re hot, baby,” he groans while you’re lapping at his skin with your eyes shut. You’re softly whimpering at the sensation of his body, big and strong under you, his cock caressing your walls, making your pussy flutter around it, pushing you closer and closer to your second climax.

“Shit,” Joel curses, pulls your head off his arm and kisses you, while hugging your torso with his python-like grip. He’s holding you tight and you whine, not being able to move your hips and chase your orgasm. Sensing your impatience, Joel plants his feet on the bed and begins jackhammering his fat cock into your slicked up pussy, giving it to you rough and fast, not sparing your little hole.

You’re moaning against his scruffy cheek, your body shaking with his feral thrusts but Joel’s iron hold is keeping you in place.

“Usin’ you like a fuck doll you’re, yeah? Brainless little slut. Made just to make my cock happy. Perfect for me.”

His filthy words, leaving his mouth through gritted teeth, are barely audible because of the loud slapping of his body against yours and the squeaking of the old bed.

“Joellll…,” you moan, and after a few more thrusts explode on his thumping cock, caged by his strong arms, sobbing with heavenly pleasure flooding every inch of your body.

“Hnggg—shit—can I come inside?” You hear a gruff roar in your ear and with Joel fucking your brains out right this moment, you breathe out, “yeah, oh, yeah.” You crave to be full of him, drip him for days after, getting turned on just from the memory of him. As soon as you agree, Joel starts spurting his hot cum into your pulsating cunt, filling you up, emptying his balls into you.

You’re lying still, nuzzling his neck and taking everything he’s giving you, milking his cock to the last drop with your contracting walls.

Gradually intense ecstasy morphs into a pleasant satisfaction and you both bask in the afterglow of your orgasms. You feel almost high on endorphins, not used to such an amount of happiness in your veins, in your life.

Joel softens his embrace but still holds you, letting you rest and you almost doze off, lulled by his warm chest rocking you up and down like a giant wave.

“Don’t sleep yet, ya need to take a pill,” he gently shakes you, sleep heavy in his own voice.

“Oh, yeah…fuck, you came inside,” you murmur, blinking at him, as your mind fog slowly clears up.

“I have a Plan B, don’t worry.”

He moves you off him and lays you down on the bed, then gets up, making the bed squeak.

You can’t move your limbs even if you tried to so you’re lying there, feeling his warmth between your legs, kisses of the afterglow all over your heated skin and smile lazily when he returns to the bed with a glass of water.

“Look at you, as cock dumb as they get, huh?”

He plops down next to you and hands you the pill.

You sit up with a tired smile, swallow the pill and chase it with a few sips of water.

“Good girl,” Joel takes the glass from you and shakes his head when you murmur that you need to go.

“No way. Sleep here. They'll hang your ass if they catch you out and about at this hour.”

You turn your head to the window, just noticing that it’s completely dark outside, only the street lamps illuminate the room with a yellow light.

“Aww, you care about me, Joel? Don’t fall in love,” you giggle but your heart flutters as you look up at the man, so handsome and huge, looming over you.

“I’ll try,” he deadpans and shakes his hand, motioning you to scooch.

You shift to the other side of the bed and he lies down on his back with a grunt. You’re still sitting up, shamelessly admiring his naked body.

“Quit starin’,” he mumbles with eyes closed and pulls you down onto his chest.

You’re lying on his shoulder for a few moments and then whisper,

“Can you big spoon me?”

“Jesus…,” he sighs but turns on his side, scooping you in his embrace and you smile, closing your eyes as your hands gravitate to his arms, heavy and secure around you. You press your back into his warm chest and fall into a deep and peaceful sleep.

Thank you for reading! Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed the fic!💖🌸

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[pedge-page]

does tommy ever feel the wrath of joel’s pregnant wife or does she reserve that specifically for joel? I feel like tommy would get on her nerves a little bit 😂

I was waiting for someone to ask this! Tbh I think preggo wife saves her wrath for Joel simply because shes comfortable with him and can relax and let her guard down. With Tommy alone....

Tommy Dealing with Preggo Wife

Warnings: just language and Joel and Wife being insecure in their own (slightly toxic) ways

- - - -

You were super pregnant at this point. A couple weeks away from making Joel a doting husband to a doting father, and he was probably more on edge than you were. Your anxious little poor husband Joel, freaking out that he needed to take a weekend trip away, and the only person he can rely to watch over you--

"I don't need to be fucking baby sat--!"

-- his sweet, helpless, innocent little pregnant wife, is unfortunately, Tommy.

"Ok listen very carefully," Joel starts, now having Tommy's full attention like he's about to ask him to do his first heart transplant. "She doesn't go anywhere unless you decide. She eats what you put in front of her, and you don't take her shit. She's gonna be bitchy and whiny and crying. She needs to rest. Rub her shoulder, put her feet up, whatever. But you gotta tough through and just make sure she understands that you're in charge. And what you say, goes. Got it?"

He knows Joel is relying on him to take care of his most precious belonging...who also is the devil. "Ok...ok. I mean it's like a... like watching a toddler, right?" Tommy asks, unsure about the whole thing.

"Yeah... a pregnant one that weighs more than ya and swears and probably will slap you a lot."

Joel smacks Tommy's shoulder lovingly with an encouraging smile.

Tommy feels even more hesitant. but he knows that he just needs to channel his inner Joel this weekend: stern, unmoving, and commanding, and he'll do just fine navigating you.

Joel hugs you real tight and kisses your forehead, inhaling your hair deeply as if to etch it into his brain. "I love you, baby, I'm gonna miss you so--"

"Later fucker." you pat his bum and wave him off as you waddle away in his large T shirt towards the freezer drawer, pulling out a Ben and Jerry's fudge pint with wet lips and a grin.

Tommy shrugs and helps Joel out to the truck with his bag. he waves goodbye as his brother backs out the driveway, shouting "YOU'RE IN CHARGE!"

I'm in charge, I'm in charge, he chants to himself, taking a deep breath before entering your house again.

"Alright!" he claps his hands together awkwardly but with a tone leadership. "We are going to stay in bed today,"

"Mall," you grump though a big scoop of ice cream.

"W-what?"

"M'goin ta mall. Yur takin mee," you nod towards him casually, gulping another spoon.

"uhh-h." Tommy looks around anxiously. Was this part of the test? He should put his foot down, yeah, Joel said you go no where unless Tommy explicitly said so. "N-no."

you swallow. "'Scuse me?"

"N-no? I mean... no! I said, we are putting you in bed, and what i say, go--"

"Thomas Miller," you say, and an eerie sense of fear swallows Tommy, sending shivers all over his body. Despite the 90 degree forecast, its like someone just tossed his insides into a freezer, and you were locking him in.

"Y-yes...maam," he whispers, feeling small.

"We can either do this... the hard way," you tilt your head with a sinister gaze towards him, as if referencing that bit of "Joel" he's trying to channel inside. "Or, we can do this... my way." The way you smile at the end is somehow even more threatening than the chilled tone you're having with him.

It was like when he and Joel broke his grandma's vase, and rather than yelling at them, she had the exact same terrifyingly threatening voice, and it made Tommy sleep with one eye open for a week.

"What will it be, Thomas."

He remembers to breathe shakily through his nose, licking his parched lower lip.

He doesn't want to be known as the guy who got beat up by his pregnant sister in law.

-

"Do you want a pretzel?" you ask kindly.

"Ah... no--no that's okay--"

"I'm getting you one, honey, just say Thank you."

"Okay. T-thank you."

Tommy bites into the cinnamon sugar one with the extra glaze you had ordered, and he had never felt such sweet heaven.

"Joel used to yell at me for my sweet tooth," he admits as the two of you stuff your faces and waltz slowly down the mall halls.

"Me too!" you bump his shoulder heartily.

Tommy lets out a relaxed sigh. From the moment he agreed to do whatever it was you wanted, the weekend had been fantastic. Turns out, you're not only super fun to blast kareoke to the worst songs in the car, but also all full of warmth, laughter, and even more suprisingly, extremely generous at offering to spoil him rotten like a mother with her favorite child.

"What can I make you for dinner?"

"Wha--no I'm supposed to cook for you--"

"Tommy stop please. I want to make you something. You have to be stuck with me all day walking like a slow penguin. I want to do something for you. You deserve it. "

You hadn't noticed Tommy pausing along your walk, watching you in awe as you waddled about, gently caressing your tummy absentmindedly as you window shopped.

This was the demon that Joel complained about every hour of the day???

And even more concerning was: how did someone like JOEL manage to score a girl like YOU???

You were so peaceful, generous, kind, loving, all smiles and willing to take care of him.

Was he doing everything right or everything wrong?

The two of you return home, with Tommy hauling more gifts that you had bought him. He really wasn't able to protest, with you somehow disappearing from sight conveniently, to his horror that he somehow lost you like a puppy in the park, and then finding you suddenly swiping your card at a register.

He should feel bad, truly, but you were just in such a good mood, he didn't want to seem ungrateful. And he also.... really liked all of it.

"Oh these are so fuckin nice!" He cheers, pulling out the new sneakers you had just bought in it's wrapping paper. "Mine are--"

"Old and ratty, yes I know that's why I bought them. Sick of your nasty shoes trailing my house--"

"S-sorry--"

"Bought you some fuzzy slippers too so you can switch out when you come in."

"Im not really a slippers guy..."

"You are now."

You ended up making a quick spaghetti, slapping him away every time he tried to hover in the kitchen. "I wanna stand! good exercise!" you nod with a smile.

And it seemed like you meant it. Despite babyzilla cooking and ready to burst out, you were light on your feet in the kitchen. Like a ballerina dancing and swaying, you hummed to a tune in your head as you tasted the sauce on the spatula. You were in the zone, in your world. and it was genuinely... beautiful. He understood it now, when people say pregnant women glow. the entire time, Joel always said you did, but he only ever saw how tired the pregnancy made the both of you.

Was... Joel the problem?

After a hearty dinner, Tommy washed up the dishes. You said your goodnights and headed to your master bedroom, tucked in, and lights off just as Tommy gathered his pillows down the hall in the guest bedroom.

He sighs, laying on his belly and inhaling the fresh linen before closing his eyes.

Not more than a few moments pass before he hears some sniffles down the hall. Then again, a cough and whine.

He sits up and heads down to your room, the door cracked and dark. he flips the light switch on to see you sitting upright in your bed, rubbing your eyes.

"You okay?" he asks softly.

"M'good!" you give him two thumbs up. "Night!"

He nods and flips the switch off again, turning away. he doesn't make it two steps before he hears your unmistakable crying.

He turns the lights back on to see you wiping fat tears from your cheeks, sobbing into your shirt--Joel's shirt.

"Hey...what's wrong? Are you okay? ya in pain? What can I--"

You pull your face up, lips trembling and all tear soaken. He sees your clutching one of Joel's jackets in your hands, wrapped tightly like you don't want it to leave you. A completely emotional mess as you huff and puff.

He puts the pieces together. "Ya miss Joel, don't you--"

"I MISS HIMMMMMM!!!!!!!!" you wail, erupting into a long cry into the air with slunked shoulders and larger tears strolling down from the creases of your closed eyes.

He tightens his lips awkwardly, not wanting to let out a chuckles. Turns out big scary pregnant "later fucker" wife really did love that dumbass. Its also probably the first time he sees bags under your eyes, like you were hiding your exhaustion. When Joel is around, you almost never looked tired. Just pouty and groutchy like a spoiled senior cat.

Maybe Joel wasnt the problem, but the solution. He knew how to take care of you, knew what you needed when you needed it, knew when to put his foot down, and even when hed watch you two bicker and bitch, joel knew exactly how to get you in bed wrapped around him like gumby. Every. Single. Night.

He rubs your arm soothingly.

"Why"-hiccup--"did he"--sniffle--"leave me!"

"He aint leave ya, just had some work."

"HE HATES ME!!!!!!!!!"

He shakes his head, knowing you're inconsolable. rather than trying to reason, he brings you to his shoulder so you can cry your heart out on him as he hugs you. "There there," he hums, swaying you two side to side.

like a crying toddler indeed.

"M'sorry," you whimper, rubbing your eyes with your balled fists. "Wakin' you up, me crying like this. I can't--I can't help it some times..." your voice waivers, face warm in embarrassment that you're burdening Tommy so much.

"Don't sweat it. You did a lot today. Can I get you anything to cheer you up?" he suggests, expecting a trip down to the freezer for a nice tub of Ben and Jerry's Ice Cr--

"Can you get the jar of pickles?"

That...is fine too.

He brings up the largest jar of dill pickles he's ever seen in his life, sets them in your lap. He pops open the sturdy lid for your eager fingers to pull a long dill out and slink it into your lips. the satisfying crunch echoes in the room as you munch.

You start crying again. "I Fucking HATE Pickles!" you groan angrily before taking another generous crunch with a confusingly delightful hum. "Like--I hate it, but they're good?"

He chuckles, taking a piece. He pauses, eying you fearfully as if he made a wrong move not asking your permissions to take one of your hated yet coveted pickles. You nod, and the two of you crunch down on the peculiar snack.

"It's probably from the baby..."

"Fuckin' weirdo." you pat the rounded hump of your tummy and swallow the rest of your slice. Though, the way you stroke along the skin so delicately with a little smirk, he knows you're already in love with your "fuckin weirdo" baby more than anyone could love anything in this world.

Tommy never really thought about the word "uncle" until this moment, and the first emotion he has to associate it with, is excitement.

"Mkay. I'm done now." You hold the jar out to him so he can close it. "Thank you, Tommy," you say sweetly with the gentlest, sleepiest smile. "I really appreciate it."

THIS IS THE ANGEL JOEL HAS THE NERVES TO COMPLAIN ABOUT????

He swears, if Joel comes back and calls him up later saying how insufferable you are, he may just have to size up and smack his big brother.

Tommy pats your head, tucks you in again and turns of the lights.

-

The next day you make Tommy take you to breakfast and get him as many pancakes and French toast he can stuff his face with. A spoiled little brother indeed, and as he swallows another lump of the best breakfast eggs he's ever had, he wonders how sweet life would have been with a big sister like you spoiling him every day instead of Joel making him do chores and shit.

Its not until Joel is meeting the two of you at a lunch spot that Tommy remembers exactly what Joel always groans about.

"Hi baby!" He grins, rushing to give you a big hug for the first time in two days.

And despite your crying for him last night, you only retort with "sup fucker" casually and near bored, as if you weren't sniffing his jacket and Wagging your imaginary tail in disguise.

Joel purses his lips sarcastically, knowing you mean well, and Tommy laughs. You two definitely understood each other way better than he thought.

"Im gonna wash my hands, you two get a table," Joel says, and disappears down the back entrance.

Your waitress greets you just as Tommy is helping you slide down into the booth, big baby belly and all.

"Just three waters, please,"

"And a pepsi! Lots of ice. Two pepsis actually. And bread. And maybe like uh milkshake to start off?--"

The waitress glances at Tommy with a raised brow, wondering if you're genuine or not. He shrugs and nods, noting "she's pretty far along if ya can tell."

"My older sister was the same way. I'll get that in. You two...sorry I shouldn't say it but you two make a cute couple--" she says kindly.

Unfortunately, its exactly at the same Joel returns and hears that last bit, directed towards you and Tommy.

She walks away just as you catch Joels bewildered expression, conveniently with Tommy's hand on your bump and another around your lower back (supporting you into the booth of course but JOEL doesn't see it that way with this new context).

You and Tommy open your mouths to dismiss the claim and misunderstanding, but ever defensive Joel just shoves Tommy aside, slides into your booth next to you and slams your hand into his lap, his bear paws enclosed around yours. Tommy quietly slides into the opposite end, met with Joels flaring nostrils and billowing steam coming out of them.

The younger Miller realizes that slapping some sense into Joel and "sizing him up" was a total pipe dream. He'd be lucky to live long enough to an uncle at this point.

You gotta defend your poor brother in law. "The waitress just saw--"

"Cute couple, huh," he seethe with gritted teeth his entire seething focus at Tommy rather than paying any mind to you.

"Joel stop, Tommy was REALLY great to me this weekend--"

"Oh I BET he was," he grunts, turning towards you with a scowl. "S'that why he got new shoes on?" Joel damn well knows Tommy didn't just pony up and buy new shit for himself this weekend, given he refuses to buy himself anything new for years past it's expiration.

Tommy knows he's never allowed to baby sit you alone again at this rate.

"She was crying last night saying how much she missed ya," Tommy blurts.

You kick his shin under the table, not wanting to let Joel know what a pathetic groveling mess--

"Wait really!?" he nuzzles closer to your, as if all the anger in his body dissipated at the notion his poor little wife was calling out for her hubby.

Tommy chuckles and nods. "We shared some pickles in bed, ain't that right?"

You slap your face just as Joel rears his once again flaring red face towards Tommy. "You did WHAT in WHERE????"

- - - -

@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrsoharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee @cassiecasluciluce @loohoop @himboelover @callsignwidow @wintersquirrel @fluffygoffpanda @picketniffler @bbyanarchist

[alrightieaphroditie]

screwed | j.m series masterlist | next part!

pairing *:·ﾟjoel miller x female!reader wc *:·ﾟ2.2k an *:·ﾟ.... yeah i don't know where this came from. i've literally been itching to write for joel but the man makes me so nervous. not too sure how much i like this but i think this will be the beginning of a lil series so hopefully i can make it work! pleaase let me know if this is bad lmao i really appreciate any feedback! i hope you enjoy!

synopsis *:·ﾟyou can't stand the sight of joel miller sitting alone - again - at the tipsy bison, so you finally decide to introduce yourself to him.

you knew who joel miller was before you even officially met the man. 

granted, anyone in jackson could’ve made that same claim. it wasn’t like you were special or anything, really. but when tommy came into the community, it only took him a few weeks to get settled in. it took about the same time for him to casually be able to mention his brother into almost every conversation. 

helping some of the guys out with making plans for a new building? joel miller would’ve been great at that. trying out a batch of the new whiskey they had made? joel miller would’ve been all over that. brushing the horses and maintaining the stalls? tommy actually wasn’t sure how joel would feel about this one, but he made sure that everyone knew his brother would do it if asked, no hesitation.

so, when you heard that joel miller had shown up near jackson, and was going to be entering the community, you felt like you had a decent understanding of the man. however, you weren’t anticipating joel miller to look… like that. even now, you still remember being huddled outside near the entrance of the town, bundled up in an oversized jacket. as the gates opened and you first caught a glance at the older, taller man walking through, you felt your cheeks burn bright red. 

your first thought about joel miller? he was unrightfully handsome. 

it wasn’t until after joel and the girl he came in with, who you later learned was named ellie, got settled that the rumors started to spread. you weren’t entirely sure where the source came from, but soon enough the town of jackson was talking about joel as much as his own brother had, but this time it was accompanied by whispering, stolen glances, and an air of hesitancy. 

you were never one to gossip, but you couldn’t help yourself strain to listen to those whispers floating around. you couldn’t understand how someone who was as highly praised by tommy, a man so well trusted within jackson, could be so ostracized in the community. you heard mumbles of him being a hunter, previously. of him murdering innocent people for his own selfish ways. of how some people didn't feel as safe in the community now with this big, bad man roaming around. 

the thing was, you had gotten quite close to ellie in the weeks that they had been there. she appeared at your house one day, standing near the curb as she watched you and some of the towns children haphazardly building a snowman. you caught her eye, waved her over, and that was that. she was your new best friend. she showed up on your doorstep almost every day after, and the two of you would talk about almost anything. especially about joel. she was very much like tommy in the sense that ellie could relate almost anything back to that man, and she meant it as praise. she really did look up to him. 

during your talks, while you sat at your small dining table with cups of tea (which, ellie had decided she quite liked chamomile tea, so you made sure you stocked up for her) you learned more about the man that joel was, and with every conversation, you found yourself wanting to simply know more about joel. ellie often referred to him as a 'scary motherfucker' but the fondness that laced her voice betrayed her. it was because of ellie that you were part of the minority of the town that was not afraid of joel miller. 

and it was then that you knew you needed to do something. it wasn’t really the whispers, the rumors, that bothered you. there wasn’t much to do in jackson, truthfully, so when people needed the entertainment, they tended to make it themselves. a few weeks ago, you were the center of it, the people claiming you were glowing from pregnancy from a hookup that quite honestly never even happened. all you could do was laugh. the people would believe whatever they wanted to, even if you were adamantly insisting otherwise. 

the thing that got you, though, was how joel seemed to have almost expected being treated poorly, being totally unwelcomed in this small town. how he seemed to be fine quietly eating dinner alone almost every night when ellie wasn’t around or tommy had patrol duty, then sitting alone, again, at the bar with a shot of whiskey. the way he seemed so comfortable being alone, and yet you couldn’t help but notice the yearning in his eyes as they shifted around. the weariness. as if he was used to everyone in his life leaving him, alone, and he was the only one left to pick up the pieces. 

so, one evening, almost a month and a half later, when you walked into the tipsy bison for dinner and saw joel sitting in the back - his usual spot, his back to the wall, facing the door - alone, again, you paused in the doorway. his gaze was focused on the lone glass of whiskey in front of him, his fingers trailing the rim slightly. the image sent a shock of pain in your heart for some reason, and before you even realized it, your footsteps were carrying you to him. 

his gaze shot up as you drew near, and you watched as his eyebrow quirked up slightly. you cleared your throat softly, suddenly feeling more nervous than you probably should've, your fingers fiddling with the edge of your sweatshirt the dead giveaway of your anxiety. 

"hi," you managed to get out as you stepped up the edge of the table. his brown eyes were staring intently into yours, and you swear you saw the corner of his mouth quirk up. "i know you've been here a little while now and i just realized i never got around to properly introducing myself. i'm-"

"i know who you are. the kid never shuts up about you." he interrupted, raising the glass to his lips, and taking a sip of his drink. you trained your eyes to stay on his, focusing really hard to not let your gaze go to his lips as he licked them. 

you felt your cheeks flush almost immediately, and a small smile found its way to your lips. all this time that you felt like you had known who joel was, and for some reason, you weren't prepared to hear the slight southern accent in his voice. you thought it was cute. "well, i hope that's a good thing," you motioned to the chair on the other side of the table. "may i?" 

his face gave away nothing, and it could have just been you, but his eyes widened slightly at the question. he hesitated for a split second before nodding his head to the chair, shifting back in his own seat. "sure, have at it. s'long as you’re not afraid to be mingling with the town outcast." he gave you a grin at the self-deprecating joke, and you didn't want to but you couldn't help but laugh. 

"oh, i promise you aren't the town outcast. i think that title goes to jimmy. i haven't seen him around town in weeks, but i know he's home because he keeps shovelin' his driveway." you teased, smiling even more to yourself as joel huffed out a laugh before drinking again. "besides, ellie doesn't think you're all that bad. that must count for something, yeah?" 

his eyes went soft at the mention of the girl, which caused your heart to melt. he shook his head while examining the glass again, his finger wiping off a bit of condensation on the side. "that girl is about as fearless as it gets. not sure you really wanna be followin' in her footsteps." 

"i'll take my chances, then." you traced a crack in the wood on the table, suddenly feeling a little awkward. you weren't the best with people, having been quite the introvert before the outbreak. good to know somethings never really changed. "how are you liking it in jackson so far?" 

"s'alright. i never thought something like this could be possible again," he trailed off, draining the rest of his drink in one go. he leaned back in his chair, arms folded against his chest. you couldn't help but notice how his long sleeve shirt stretched across his broad arms. "'m happy that tommy was able to find a community like this." he confesses, which makes you smile. the one thing you had learned from both tommy and ellie was how loyal joel was, especially to his family. it was a trait you heavily admired, and something you genuinely didn't see nowadays. it was every man for himself out here. well, not in jackson, but that's besides the point. 

"it is pretty great," you agreed. you didn't know where you would be without the community. you had somehow luckily stumbled upon them from the woods as you escaped from a group of hunters that had kept you and your best friend captive. maria had seen you and instantly took you in, giving you space to heal while becoming comfortable again. you didn't share this joel, although you felt the strange urge to, to maybe help joel see that the town wasn't all that bad and that there was good in it. 

"so, i admit i had a secret agenda coming over here. i wanted to ask you something." you tucked your hair behind your ears, trying to muster up the courage to ask. you weren't scared of joel miller, but god he was really intimidating. you weren't sure what you would do if he turned you down.

"oh?" he looked intrigued, that eyebrow of his quirking up slightly again. his expression was soft, almost inviting. "well ask away, sugar."

sugar. your blood rushed in your ears at the endearment. 

"well, i wanted to invite you and ellie over for dinner one night. i already mentioned it to her earlier, but i figured i should probably ask you directly as well." you confessed with a small laugh. ellie swore she would mention it to joel, but then the next second she was asking you about one of the books you had on the counter, and you really can't be sure that she remembered your invitation. 

joel was silent for a moment, his eyes studying you in a way that made your knee bounce. the silence made your thoughts go into overdrive. maybe you misread joel earlier when you believed him to be lonely. maybe he really did just enjoy his own company and maybe he didn't want some strange girl inviting him over and interrupting his time. and maybe - 

"i'd like that, yeah." he responded quietly, tilting his head slightly in your direction as a subtle nod. it could've just been the whiskey, but you could've sworn his eyes shined in the light. you stared at him for a moment. your brain and thoughts catching up to the confirmation joel gave you. 

"oh, perfect!" you resisted the urge to clap your hands in excitement. and you were excited, but you didn't want joel to know just how much lest you come off as some crazed woman. with the way he looked he probably dealt with that all the time, right? 

"okay, well, ellie already knows where my house is so that covers that. if you both don't have duties tomorrow, we could do it then? or if you wanted, we could schedule it for next week or somethin'?" you were well aware that you were rambling, but you couldn't help it. joel didn't seem to mind it, though, as he gazed at you while you talked with your hands. 

"tomorrow's fine with us, 'm pretty sure." he adjusted himself in his chair, the old wood creaking slightly under his weight. “i appreciate the gesture, too. nice to know i haven’t scared everyone off.” you think he’s teasing with you, his grin almost invisible but you can see it. tommy never said his brother had a good sense of humor, but you were starting to wonder if there was a different side of joel that he was letting you see. you felt like you could run 10 laps around the border of the town with the way your heart was racing after his grin. 

“of course! truthfully it’s more for me than it is for you; i got a little sad seeing you in here alone almost every night.” you started to laugh, but then your words caught up to your ears and you realize you inadvertently told joel you’ve been watching him. embarrassed, cheeks flushed with heat, you stood up quickly, tucking your chair back under the table. 

“well, it was nice to finally meet you, mr. miller. i’ll see y’all tomorrow night!” the words rushed out between your lips as you slowly backed away from the table, giving joel a small wave before turning around. he probably thought you were acting like a fool, but you knew you needed to get out of the building before you said something worse. 

as you passed the tables towards the exit, you could’ve sworn that you heard a deep chuckle coming from the corner of the room, coming from the table that you just vacated. 

oh boy, you thought. you were officially screwed when it came to joel miller.

[justagalwhowrites]

The Savage and the Sanctuary - Ch. 6: Justice

A friend visits as Joel reckons with his feelings. A continuation of The Savage and the Sanctuary, a no outbreak TLOU story, from the prologue through chapter 5 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

CW: ATTEMPTED SUICIDE. No use of Y/N. Whole fic will be explicit so minors DNI, 18+ only.

Length: 8.3k

A/N: Please be aware that we see Joel's suicide attempt at the start of this chapter and really get into his headspace just after Sarah dies. It's rough. If you aren't feeling up for it, jump to the second italicized date in this chapter.

Take care of yourselves! Love you!

Fic Masterlist | Masterlist | AO3 | Prologue | Previous Chapter

October 5, 2019 

The decision had been an easy one. 

Almost shamefully so, really. 

It had been surreal, watching the casket that held his daughter’s body be lowered into the ground. He’d half expected it to be raining even though the forecast didn’t call for it. It just didn’t make sense for the sun to be shining the day he buried his child. 

Everyone he’d ever met was there, it seemed. All of Sarah’s classmates, too. So many people came to pay their respects for his baby girl. Like it made a damn difference now. So many people he had to thank for their sorrow, so many people who said they wanted to help but couldn’t because how could you help something like this? 

He decided before the first shovelful of dirt was on her casket. It was a relief, in a way. It was all finite. This pain that had all but devoured him in the last week was going to end and he was never going to have to wake up in a world without his daughter again. 

“Sure you’ll be alright?” Tommy asked, hands awkwardly stuffed in his pockets as he hovered in Joel’s entryway, the one button down shirt he owned already open at the collar, tie loosened. 

“Yeah,” Joel said. It wasn’t even a lie. He would be alright. Soon, he’d be alright. 

“I can stay,” Tommy said. “I’ll just go by my place, get a few things…” 

“Don’t need to,” Joel said. 

“Joel.” 

“Go home, Tommy.” 

His brother watched him for a moment, jaw clenched, eyes going over his face again and again. 

“Promise me you won’t do anything stupid if I leave you here alone,” Tommy said, his eyes stuck on Joel’s. 

“Not gonna do anything stupid,” Joel said. That wasn’t a lie, either. It wasn’t stupid, it was the only smart thing he could fucking do. 

Tommy watched him for another moment. 

“Alright,” he said. “I’ll see you tomorrow, OK?” 

That, however, would be a lie. Joel clenched his jaw. 

“Joel,” Tommy said. “I will see you tomorrow, right?” 

“Yeah,” Joel said. “You know where to find me.” 

“Alright,” Tommy said, hesitantly, before pulling Joel in for a hug, clapping him on the back. “I know it… it’s awful, man. It is. But you’ll get through it.” 

“Yeah,” Joel said. 

“I love you, brother,” Tommy said, holding him close for a second. 

For the first time since he’d decided, Joel felt a twinge in his chest. Something akin to fear or regret or apology, something that made it feel like leaving his baby brother was the wrong thing to do. He just didn’t really care.

“Love you, too,” Joel said, voice thick. 

He watched the front door for a minute after Tommy left, his hands in his pockets in his oddly silent house. 

He went to the kitchen and poured himself a glass of whisky, staring at the mug Sarah had left by the sink the last day she was alive. He couldn’t bring himself to clean or even move it and it was going moldy, rot already claiming the parts of her that were still here. He drank the whisky. 

Joel considered writing a note but decided not to. What else was there to say? Every word he had died with her. And it wasn’t like there was anyone to fight over what little he had to his name. Just a small life insurance policy that may not even pay out and the equity he had in the house he’d bought so his daughter had roots. Tommy could handle it. He’d proven, over the last week, that he was more capable than Joel had given him credit for. 

He went to Sarah’s room. It was still in a state of teenaged disarray - he hadn’t been able to do anything about that, either - with a diorama she was building for her history class on her desk and her comforter shoved down toward the foot of her bed. She kicked it off in her sleep, she always got warm in her sleep. She was cold now. 

Joel took it all in, committing it to memory. He looked at all the posters - the pop star in the middle of a dance move and the movie star staring out at nothing - and ran his fingers over the spines of the books. He even picked up the teddy bear on her dresser, small and pink with worn fur. He ran his thumb over the bear’s face, remembered tucking it next to his daughter when she was a newborn. Tommy had brought it for her when he came to the hospital to meet his niece for the first time. 

“Figured, it’s pink,” he’d said then. “Girls like pink.” 

“Don’t think she’s old enough to like anything yet,” Joel said, not looking at his brother, too busy watching the tiny bundle that was now his whole world. 

“She will,” Tommy said. “Once she figures it out. She’ll be the best little girl in the whole world.” 

Tommy was right on both counts. She had loved pink. She had been the best little girl in the whole world. 

He couldn’t handle being there very long. The room was already starting to smell different, less like Sarah herself and more like her body spray and hair serums and detergent. She was already fading from the place that had been hers and he couldn’t bear to know the world was moving on without her. 

When it felt like he couldn’t take it anymore, he left, closing the door softly behind him, going over the space again and again in his mind. He went to his room, to the gun safe in his nightstand drawer. 

Joel didn’t really like guns. But he wanted to have it, it felt smart, what with just him and his daughter in the house. He needed to have a way to protect her if he needed to because, when it came down to it, that was his purpose. He was supposed to protect his daughter. Protect her, raise her, teach her to be smart and sweet and strong, watch her grow to become something so much better than him. But he’d failed at that. The gun only had one use now. 

Joel had considered this part carefully, going over options in his mind while people told him how sorry they were that the only thing that mattered in the world was gone. 

Tommy would be the one to find him, he reasoned. No one else had keys, no one else would care enough to come looking. He wanted to be surrounded by Sarah but he couldn’t bring himself to do it in her room, it seemed wrong to have violence touch her space. He’d considered the entryway but that seemed cruel, a shock like that for Tommy when he first opened the door. Outside by the pool would be too loud, some nosy neighbor calling the cops and with that was a risk - maybe a small one but a risk all the same - of someone getting there fast enough to save him and he didn’t want that. His bedroom would be comforting but getting blood out of the carpet… he wanted Tommy to be able to sell the house, set himself up for some success in life. So, he’d decided on his bathroom. Easy to clean up, plenty of walls between him and the neighbors, away from the sacred space that still belonged to Sarah. 

That’s where he stood, in the shower he’d tiled years ago over a long weekend. Sarah had been about eight, she’d wanted to help. He’d smear on the adhesive and she would pass him a tile and he’d put it in its place and they would do it all again, her never seeming bored with it. She was perfectly content to be next to him, listening to classic rock on the radio, making something with her dad. 

The gun was weighty in his hand but that was a comfort. There was nothing left here for him. He was done, ready to move on to whatever there was beyond this life - if anything at all. He didn’t much care if there was. All he wanted was an end to this pain, this suffocating agony that had consumed his entire being since he’d lost his daughter. All he wanted was to go with her into the cold ground. That’s where he belonged, next to her. He’d let them put her under alone, let her go ahead of him into that dark earth. It wasn’t right. He was going to fix it. 

He took a deep breath, oddly aware of his lungs, the beat of his heart. It wasn’t racing the way he thought it might be. In his final moments, he was calm. Sure. 

He pressed the gun to his temple and closed his eyes. He pictured Sarah. He pictured her laughing and smiling, he pictured the pleading look on her face the last morning of her life. He pictured how happy she’d been when he’d told her she could go to the party, when he’d unknowingly sent her to her death. 

“I’m coming, baby girl,” he said quietly. “See you soon.” 

He took one final breath and pulled the trigger. 

There was a moment, one that had to be only a fraction of a second but seemed to last a small lifetime, that he saw everything. Every moment of his life with his daughter - her first steps, her beaming on Christmas morning, her riding her first bike, her rolling her eyes when they were in a fight - and every moment with his brother, his own father, the guys on his crew at work. All these moments that made up a life, all these things that made it seem like continuing on was somehow worth it. 

He flinched. 

November, 2024 

It wasn’t the guy. 

In the week since you and Joel had returned from California, he’d been off duty. Or, at least, at home and answering questions for police and Tommy as the authorities investigated whether or not the man who’d hurt you was your stalker. 

He wasn’t. 

When the police started investigating, they quickly discovered that he was new to Los Angeles. He’d been in another state entirely on days your stalker had clearly seen you. The man - Joseph Wilson - was just another rabid fan, one who took his adoration of you a step too far at the premier. 

He’d bailed himself out but had to stay in Los Angeles, the police keeping tabs on him so he was controlled but that didn’t make Joel feel much better. He knew how little the cops actually did in situations like this. The guy may not be able to board a plane but he could just jump in a car and get on the road - something he was clearly obsessive enough to do - and be in Texas in a matter of days. With how often the police checked in, they may not even get any advanced warning, either. 

Mostly, it made Joel uneasy. You were still under threat. Worse, he was away from you while you were under threat. He couldn’t keep you safe from his house across town, he had to sit there and rely on Seth to do the job.

But there was a part of him that was relieved, too. You still being under threat meant that there was still a use for him. He had a reason to be next to you and Ellie, to move through the world with you and make sure you were both safe. You clearly needed someone to do that job, stalker or no, and just the passing thought of you with nothing between you and the violent things that seemed to be drawn to you in some way turned his stomach. He was happy to not need to reckon with disentangling himself from you yet - even if that meant it would be harder when the time came. 

Still, he wondered if you’d told Tommy about the incident with the watch. His brother had insisted that he take the full week, even after Joel pushed to come back early when the police confirmed that Wilson wasn’t who’d been sending you the letters. 

“It’s better if it’s me,” Joel said, standing in Tommy’s office with his arms crossed tightly over his chest. “I know the job best now and…” 

“And we need you sharp,” Tommy said, barely glancing up from his computer. “Can’t have you working yourself into the ground. Take the week, rest up, come back refreshed and ready.” 

He hoped you hadn’t said anything. He’d deserve it if you had, he wasn’t proud of the way he’d behaved that day in your driveway. 

But he was already trying to get some distance, desperate for things to be somehow easier when he had to leave, his whole body already tense when thinking about anything - anything at all - happening to you and you handed him that watch. That fucking watch, the one that sat open in the red box on his nightstand, the one you’d given him as a gesture of kindness that he wasn’t due. It glared at him, the intact face shining in the lamplight as the cracked one lay next to it before he went to sleep. 

The other watch had been a gift from Sarah - Father’s Day when she was 12. She’d had an independent streak that year and did chores for the next door neighbors a few times to save up before asking her uncle to take her shopping for it. It wasn’t anything fancy - utilitarian and clean with a green fabric strap and a black face - but Joel had loved it. She’d been so proud of herself for buying it, she beamed every time he put it on. She’d even gotten it fixed for him a year before she died because he just hadn’t found the time to do it. He wore it every day. He’d worn it the day she died, the face cracking when he threw himself against the car window, desperate to break through the glass and get to her. Desperate to save her and failing, always failing. 

You gave him a watch to replace that one in much the same way you’d replaced the absence of feeling that had taken over his being when she died. 

That terrified him. He hadn’t even been aware of how numb he’d become, not really, not until he wasn’t anymore. The world was a cold and dark place, something that hurt too much to endure if he sat in it a little too long so he just didn’t. What was the point? He’d tried to fix it, tried to realize that his time was up - how could it not be, the reality of her loss being what it was - but he’d failed at that, too. Now, he was just biding his time. 

Or he was until you showed up. 

Things hurt again, scared him again. It all seemed too big to contend with. It reminded him, a little, of when he was a teenager, when he first started really waking up to life outside the nucleus of his mom and dad and little brother. The first time he fell in love with a girl, the first time he got passed over on the football team, the first time one of his friends stabbed him in the back. It had all seemed like the most important thing to have ever happened, the depth of feeling broad and new. 

Everything since you’d come into his life was like that. He was a professional, he’d dealt with aggressive people before but none of them scared him the way Wilson had. He’d tried to make a kid smile before but none the way he wanted to make Ellie smile. He’d wanted to fuck a woman before but none of them the way he wanted to fuck you.

What was he supposed to do with any of that? It all felt too volatile and dangerous, the threat lurking beneath it all far greater than it had ever been before. It made every decision he made feel strangely consequential, his body constantly tense and waiting for some unseen force to destroy you both. 

It was a feeling he couldn’t shake in his week away from you. One that was made worse by the fact that the fucking paparazzi had been told that you’d moved to Texas and were adopting Ellie. 

Joel got wind of it from Tommy only 10 minutes before the rest of the world did, just a phone call to tell him that the veil of protection you’d had here was now gone. 

“Nothin’ much we can really do about it,” Tommy said. Joel could picture him pinching the bridge of his nose through the phone. “They don’t got her address yet but they know Ellie’s school so we got a team setting up a perimeter there until this dies down, new pick up and drop off routine starting now…” 

“Jesus,” he muttered. “You’re sure you don’t want me to…” 

“Joel,” Tommy cut him off. “I know you’re bad at sitting on your hands for five minutes but you were on for weeks including an incident where your charge was injured. I can’t bring you back until you’ve actually gotten some rest, it ain’t safe. Just… I dunno, read a fucking book or something. You’ll be back to it in a few days, I’ll keep you updated otherwise.” 

Tommy sent Joel all the updates that morning, giving Joel a few hours to prep before he was set to go pick up Ellie and start his turn in the rotation of looking after you both again. 

There were changes, ones he was surprised you’d agreed to. No more grocery store runs, at least not while people were on high alert and looking for you and liable to follow you home. No more taking the same route every day to and from Ellie’s school. No more leaving the variable compound that was your home without good reason, every outing just another opportunity for someone to recognize you and tip off your stalker to your more precise location. 

Joel knew you’d hate these changes, the loss of the freedoms you’d clung to so hard here. There were notes in the file that they could be temporary adjustments, once things died down about your relocation and people weren’t watching for you anymore but he doubted that made much difference to you. The loss was still a loss. 

He went to pick up Ellie that afternoon, following the new procedure the school put into place to protect her and the other students, surrendering his ID to the rentacop guards at the gate to the school before he could pull into the drive to the front door. Ellie had to wait inside until he came to get her, something that he could tell she resented from the look on her face before he was even in the door. 

“Well would you look who it is,” she said, getting up and throwing her backpack over her shoulder. 

“You causin’ trouble?” Joel asked, brows raised. 

“No more than usual,” she said. 

“So, plenty?” Joel said. She gave him a look and he laughed a little. “Alright, kid, let’s go.” 

Joel kept a hand on her on the walk to the car and she flung her bag into the back seat of his truck as she climbed in front. 

“Should duck down,” he said, looking past the fence. There wasn’t a hoard of paparazzi, at least. “Just to be safe.” 

“So stupid,” she muttered but obeyed, doubling over in her seat until they were to the end of the street and looking back over her shoulder when she sat up again before settling in and looking Joel over. 

“What,” he asked glancing her way. 

“Nothin’,” she said. “Just haven’t seen you in a while. Think you have more wrinkles and shit.” 

Joel just scoffed. 

“And you haven’t gotten any taller,” he said. “Still a runt.” 

“Hey!” 

“What’ve you been up to, kiddo?” He asked, glancing over to her. 

“Oh, you know,” she shrugged. “School bullshit. Had to get trained on how to dodge the paparazzi by Seth and he can’t even win at COD so you left me in great hands here, Big Miller…”

“Glad to know the benchmark is a video game,” he said. “You seen any trouble from those photographer assholes?”  

“No,” she said and he could hear the roll of her eyes. “It’s all bullshit.” 

“The threat ain’t bullshit, kid,” Joel said, sterner than he meant to. “Wish it was.” 

“Yeah,” she sighed. “Me too.” 

Ellie told him some of what she’d gotten up to in the weeks it’d been since he’d seen her, the good grades she’d gotten and the asshole kid she’d put in his place. Joel just nodded along, trying not to think about the fact that there was some part of him that loved being someone she could talk to freely and openly. 

It was a pleasant distraction from what he knew would be a shit conversation once he saw you again. He’d have to say something about the watch and everything he’d said when you gave it to him. He just didn’t know what. He was dreading that, dreading it enough that the fancy pickup truck parked at your gate was a relief for a moment because it meant he had a reprieve. Then, his instincts kicked in. 

“Stay put, get down,” Joel ordered Ellie, throwing the truck into park. “Don’t get out, you hear me?” 

He didn’t wait for a response, just jumping out, his gun drawn as he ran up alongside the other - far nicer, newer - truck. 

“No, you don’t understand,” a man with a thick drawl said, standing at the intercom at your gate with his hands on his hips and a Stetson on his head. “I’m a friend of… look, she home? Just go ask her if she…” 

“I’m not about to tell a strange man whether or not my employer is at home!” Esmo said through the intercom. “I’m going to call the police if you don’t leave, you’d better go before…” 

“Hands up!” Joel barked, gun up an pointed at the man. 

He jumped, turning to face Joel, his eyes wide as he obeyed. 

“Woah!” He said, looking Joel up and down, his hands still up. “Take it easy, I swear I ain’t…” 

“Not about to take orders from you,” Joel said, stepping closer, gun still trained on the man’s chest. “Who the fuck are you and what are you doin’ here?” 

“Could ask you the same damn thing,” he replied. “Can you put the damn gun down?” 

“I’m personal protection,” Joel said. “I’m doin’ my job which, right now, means keeping you on the business end of my gun. Keep your fuckin’ hands up, gonna check you over.” 

Joel stepped in closer, tightening the grip on the gun with one hand and using the other to quickly pat the man down. He didn’t have anything on him that Joel could find easily, just wallet, phone and keys to the King Ranch F-250 that didn’t seem like had seen a day of work in its young life. 

“Alright,” Joel said, stepping back and lowering the gun slowly but keeping it drawn. “Who the fuck are you and what are you doing here.” 

Before the man had a chance to answer, Joel heard a door slam and then Ellie was doing exactly what he told her not to do. 

Joel tried to correct for it, looking quickly back over his shoulder to see where she was coming from, trying to cover her, but she ignored that, too. 

“Get back in the damn truck!” He snapped at her but she just careened around him, running for the other man. Joel raised the gun again, getting ready to shoot a stranger who may not even deserve it, but Ellie got in the way. 

“Justice!” She shrieked, launching herself at the man and he caught her out of the air with a grunt, lowering his arms for the first time since Joel had pulled his gun. “I missed you! Where the fuck have you been?” 

“Hey kiddo!” He laughed, holding her off the ground so she was level with his face. “Missed you, too. I’ve been a little busy lately, doin’ that whole tour thing. The hell have you been up to? Given all these here Texans a run for their money?” 

“Duh,” she said and he set her down before hiking up his jeans. “What are you doing here?” 

“Came to see you, you little trouble maker,” he said. “And check on your aunt while I was here, I suppose…” 

“I guess,” Ellie said in a mockingly long-suffering way. 

“Think you can get uh…” he jerked his chin toward Joel, giving him a furtive glance. “Rambo there to put the gun away and convince the gal inside that I’m not some security threat?” 

“Sure,” she laughed, looking to Joel. “You can put the gun down, this is just Justice, he’s cool.” 

Joel clenched his jaw for a moment before putting his gun away and relaxing a little. The other man seemed to take it as permission to step forward, holding his hand toward Joel with a too perfect smile. 

“Justice James,” he said. “Good to meet you.” 

Joel realized then that he recognized this guy. He was some country music superstar, the kind that Joel felt like was ruining country music and would make Johnny Cash turn in his grave. 

He just grunted, going to the intercom. 

“Esmo,” he said. “Big Miller, at the gate. Trouble is secure.” 

There was a moment of silence before she responded. 

“Are you letting that strange man up here?” She asked. 

“He’s not that strange!” Ellie yelled and Joel gave her a look over his shoulder. “What? He’s not!” 

“Yeah,” Joel said. “It’s under control.” 

Joel keyed in the gate code and looked to Justice.

“Drive up but stick by your truck when you get up there,” he said. “Trouble, you’re with me.” 

“Come on, seriously?” Ellie stomped her foot. 

“Don’t wanna hear it, kid,” he replied. “My truck, move it.” 

“Fine,” she huffed before looking to Justice. “See you in a minute, apparently.” 

Justice just laughed. 

“See you in a sec, kiddo.” 

The man drove slow up to your front door, Joel following close behind, sorely temped to try to scratch the paint off the back of this ostentatious truck with his own, beat down Ford from the 80s just on principle. 

But he didn’t. Instead, he just parked right behind the hulking, shiny rig, Ellie jumping out immediately and Esmo stepping to the drive, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, her eyes narrowed. Ellie didn’t seem to notice, beelining for Justice again. 

“It’s been so crazy!” She was saying as Joel got close enough to hear her. “There were these photographers at my school and shit, like people think I’m famous now, it’s so weird but also kind of cool and…” 

“Ellie,” Esmo cut her off. “Inside.” 

“But,” she protested. 

“Now,” Esmo cut her off. “I’m certain Mr. Miller agrees with me.” 

“Inside, Ellie,” Joel said. 

She looked to Justice and he chuckled a little before nodding. 

“Head on in, kid,” he said. “See you in a few.” 

The three of them watched Ellie go inside, Esmo moving to block the door, her eyes narrowing at the newcomer. He tipped his hat to her almost comically. 

“Ma’am,” he said. “Guessin’ you’re the one who was reading me the riot act over the intercom.” 

“I’m not going to just let a stranger into the house,” Esmo said, chin out. “Not after a man…” 

“Broke her wrist,” Justice nodded. “I know. Don’t blame you for bein’ protective. Appreciate it, honestly. But promise, I’m no threat. If she’s home…” 

“She’s not,” Esmo said. “But when she gets home, I’ll…” 

The sound of an engine interrupted her and Joel’s hand automatically went to his gun, ready to deal with whatever else was going to get thrown at him in his first hour back on the fucking job but it was just you, Seth at your back. 

“There a party no one told me about?” You asked, brows raised, barely looking at Joel. 

He didn’t respond, shifting to be between you and the unknown element that was Justice when the man turned to face you, an almost cocky smile on his face. 

“Hey shug,” he said and Joel watched as your face lit up in a way that made his stomach clench. 

“Justice!” You yelled in much the same way Ellie had and ran for him that way, too, more colliding with him than hugging him, making him stumble back as he laughed, his arms going around you and holding you tight. “What the hell are you doing here! Aren’t you supposed to be playing in Dallas tomorrow?” 

“Close enough,” he said, giving you a squeeze before stepping back from you. “Couldn’t come to Texas and not see my best girl now could I?” He took your injured arm in his hands and turned it gently. “How you feeling?” 

“Fine,” you waved him off with your uninjured arm. “It’s really not a big a deal as everyone is making it out to be…” 

“Someone broke your wrist, honey,” he said, running his thumb over your wrist. 

You shrugged.

“I’ve had worse.” 

He glared at you and you took your wrist back, still smiling all broad and warm and Joel didn’t like it, not one bit. 

“Want to see the new place?” You asked. “You’d approve of the set up, lots of room for horses and shit.” 

“Horses, eh?” He asked. “You actually got any, Hollywood?” 

You scoffed. 

“Like I would dream of buying livestock without your approval.” You looked past Joel like he wasn’t even there. “Esmo, would you mind showing Justice inside and getting him something to drink? I just need to grab my things, I’ll be in in a second.” 

“Of course ma’am,” she said, leading your friend inside as you turned without even a glance toward Joel, going back to your car. He and Seth followed and you grabbed a duffle from the trunk as Seth called headquarters. 

“This is Cook,” Seth said. “Transferring custody of Siren to Big Miller.” 

“Thanks for everything, Seth,” you smiled at him, reaching out and giving his arm a squeeze. “Tell your wife I say hi. And tell her thanks for letting us have you the last week.” 

“She likes having me out of her hair now and then,” he said with a wink before clapping Joel on the shoulder. “Have fun holding down the fort, see you in a few weeks.” 

You stood next to him and watched Seth leave before turning and heading inside without a word. Joel clenched his jaw and followed, trying to brace himself for the conversation that had been hanging over him for days. 

“Siren…” 

You turned to face him, brows raised. 

“Yes.” 

He took a deep breath. 

“I… I should…” 

“I don’t really care, Joel,” you cut him off. Your eyes flitted to his wrist, where the broken watch sat. “You made it perfectly clear. We are not friends. I pay you, you protect me. We don’t need to talk about it.” 

You didn’t give him a chance to respond, just going inside to find your friend. 

***

“And how is Adam doing?” You asked Justice, sitting next to him on your bed, safely behind closed doors. 

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answer to,” he said and you could almost hear him glaring at you. 

“I do want the answer!” You said, turning your head so you could actually see him. “Why wouldn’t I want the answer.” 

“Because you don’t like him,” he said, turning his head so he could look at you, too. “I know you don’t like him.” 

“When have I said I don’t like your boyfriend?” You asked, brows raised. 

“You don’t need to say it, I can tell,” he replied. “You forget I know you as well as I do and you don’t like him.” 

You narrowed your eyes at him a little and he looked back, smug. 

“I just think…” 

“Told you.” 

“Shut up!” You elbowed him lightly and he laughed. “I’m just looking out for you, OK? I’m not a fan of seeing you get your heart stomped on…” 

“That’s reassuring.” 

“…and this guy seems like the heart stomping type,” you continued. “That’s all I’m saying.” 

“Because you’re such a great judge of men all of a sudden?” He asked. 

“Well that’s just rude,” you said and you both laughed before you sighed. “I missed you.” 

He smiled. 

“I missed you, too.” 

You snuggled closer to him and he held you and you let yourself relax for the first time in what felt like forever. 

It shouldn’t have surprised you, Justice turning up when he did. Beyond Anna, he was the person you were closest to. The three of you had practically lived together for a while when you and Justice were just starting on Siren. 

You and Justice had hit it off immediately, becoming fast friends before even day one on set. You were both young, just 21, both loved acting and music. He was kind in a sweeter, more genuine way than you were used to with men, lacking all the undertones you’d come to expect from the opposite sex that any kindness was just a bill to be paid with your body. 

It didn’t take long to figure out why it was different. You were only halfway through season one when your characters acted on the sexual tension that had been building between them as rival recording artists, the two of you kissing passionately, Justice’s character - Trace - backing yours into the spongey walls of a recording studio and pulling her leg over his hip, rutting against her with no tell-tale sign of a hard on in his jeans. 

He had a funny look on his face when the director yelled cut, his eyes a little wide as they searched your face. 

“Are you OK?” You’d asked, laughing a little. 

“Fine,” he said, clearing his throat. “Just… be in my trailer.” 

He left without another word as everyone else got reset to do another take. You sat in the chair with your name on the back, drinking a bottle of water and chewing spearmint gum so your breath wasn’t awful when you had to kiss your friend again. 

“Can we get set?” The director yelled after a while, sounding exasperated. “Please? Where the hell is Justice?” 

“Hold on,” you said, hopping down from your seat as you passed your water off to a production assistant. “I’ll get him, two minutes!” 

You jogged to his trailer, knocking quickly. 

“Yeah,” he called, his voice wet. 

“You alright?” You frowned. 

“Yeah, uh…” he sniffed, hard enough that you could hear it through the door. “Yeah, I’ll…” 

“I’m coming in,” you said, not giving him a chance to protest and just opening the door. 

You found him sitting on the floor, his elbows on his knees, head hung low. 

“Justice?” You asked, closing the door behind you and locking it before getting on the floor next to him. “Hey, what’s going on? Talk to me.” 

You put a hand on his back but he pulled away from you for a moment before he leaned into your touch, crying. You’d never really seen a man cry before - at least outside of work. You weren’t really sure what to do about it. 

“It’s OK,” you said after a moment. “Whatever it is… Did I do something? I know this is your first job and if I pushed too far in that scene, I’m sorry, I can…” 

“No,” he shook his head, sitting up and drying his eyes. “No it…” he laughed once, twisting a little to face you. “It ain’t that. You were good. Are good. That’s… that’s the problem.” 

You frowned. 

“I don’t…” 

“You kissed me,” he said, voice trailing off for a moment. “You kissed me and I didn’t feel anything.” 

You looked at him, waiting for the part that was supposed to be a problem. 

“OK?” You laughed eventually. “That’s fine! Great, actually, because - and no offense, you’re a good looking guy and all but - I have no interest in you like that and…” 

“No,” he shook his head, stretching his legs out on the floor in front of him and slumping back against the wall. He took a deep breath. “It’s not… I’ve never been interested in any woman. Ever. And I guess I… I thought… I thought I would, you know, eventually… I thought I was just a late bloomer or some shit and it would happen for me and if… if I could do a scene like that with you… You’re so beautiful and we’re friends but I still didn’t feel anything and… I thought I’d feel something. Anything. But I… I didn’t. I didn’t feel a goddamn thing and if I can’t feel somethin’ with you… I…” 

He got choked up again, looking at the ground. 

“Justice,” you said softly, reaching out and covering his hand with your own. 

“I think I’m gay,” he said, more to himself than to you.  

You just held him for a while. It took the two of you some time to get back to set so you texted a PA and said Justice wasn’t feeling well but you’d be back soon. You did a few more takes of the scene, sticking close to him when it ended, his fingers firmly laced with yours between every take. He came over to your house that night and the two of you talked for hours. He told you everything, how he’d always felt about boys the way he thought he was supposed to feel about girls, how he hoped that one day, he’d just meet the right girl and that it would all be OK, how he thought he’d surely feel something when kissing you on set that day. How his parents would never accept him. How he saw any hope he had for a career vanish before his eyes. 

“What the fuck am I supposed to do?” He asked once the pair of you were a few bottles of beer deep. 

“I dunno,” you said. “But I don’t think you need to figure it out right now.You can take your time. And I know we’ve only been friends a few months but whatever you need? I’m here for you, OK?” 

He looked at you, his green eyes soft and kind. 

“OK.” 

You were the only one who knew for a while. Then Anna, then a handful of others. When Justice hit it big in country music - just like he’d always dreamed - the two of you pretended to date for a while. You did again when you were worried about some parts of your personal history coming to light that you weren’t particularly proud of. And then, when Anna died, he stayed with you and Ellie for a few weeks, just helping both of you get adjusted to the way life was now. Of course he would just show up when things went sideways. It’s what you would do, if you were in his position. 

You’d given him the grand tour and he liked your house and the property you’d found in Texas, getting excited about the amount of real estate available for things like horses. Esmo warmed up to him fast after a prickly introduction and made fajitas and guacamole for everyone, the food smelling good enough that even Joel emerged from his room to eat. 

“Which guest room would you like me to make up for Mr. James before I leave?” Esmo asked during dinner. 

“Oh I don’t wanna put anybody out,” Justice said, waving her off. 

“It is no trouble,” Esmo assured him. 

“Well, ma’am, also mean to say, don’t think I’d use that room anyway,” Justice said, giving you a wink. “Would I, shug?” 

“You never have before,” you smirked a little at him and you caught a glimpse of Joel grinding his teeth as you looked back toward Esmo. “No point in pretending, he’ll just stay in my room. But thank you, Esmo, for the offer.” 

Joel stalked back to his room not long after and you, Ellie and Justice sat around the fire pit that had gone unused in your backyard, Justice teaching Ellie how to play guitar and you just finding a sense of peace and stability in their presence. 

“Think I can come stay for a while after my tour wraps up?” He asked Ellie as she tried to hide her yawns in the flickering firelight. “See if I can’t talk your aunt here into gettin’ some horses for this damn ranch?” 

“Fuck yeah!” Ellie said. “And we can play guitar and maybe next time you can bring me on tour, too, and…” 

“Alright, let’s plan your future as a superstar later,” you cut her off. “Time for bed, kiddo.” 

“Fine,” she sighed dramatically, going to hug Justice. “Good to see you.” 

“You too,” he gave her a squeeze and watched her head inside before the two of you put out the fire and went to your room where you could really, properly talk. 

He caught you up on his life - the tour, the stress of dating someone in secret, writing his next album - and asked you about yours. You sipped whisky and told him about the run in with Henry in LA and how the threat of the stalker had felt more real since the premier. He held your broken wrist in his large hand, an odd look on his face as he did. 

“Try not to go scarin’ me like that again, hear me?” He said, giving you your hand back. “I was in fuckin’ Australia, watching you get hurt on the news. Gonna put me in the ground early.” 

“Well if it bothers you then I guess I’ll avoid it in the future,” you teased, taking a sip of the liquor. He glared at you and you smiled a little. 

“Can I ask the awkward question?” He asked. 

“When has a question being awkward ever stopped you.” 

He ignored you. 

“What’s goin’ on with that bodyguard of yours,” he said. 

“I don’t know what you mean,” you said, grip on the glass tightening. 

“Yes you do,” he said. “Seemed like I could cut the tension between you two with a fuckin’ knife. What happened there?” 

You sighed, turning the whisky glass in your fingers. 

What had happened there? 

You had no idea, honestly. It was like a switch you didn’t know was there had flipped in him. Things had been going well in LA. Disturbingly so, really, after the incident with Henry. Joel had seemed to actually give a shit, at least enough that he didn’t want you to die for something beyond professional reasons - not something you’d been convinced of before that. 

Sure, you’d fucked up getting drunk with Quinn but he’d seemed fine with it. Told you not to worry about it. And the way he’d saved you from the man in the crowd… 

When he’d taken your face in his hand, it felt like he cared. For the first time in so long, you felt protected. Not because he was paid to but because there was something he saw in you that was worth protecting. He’d held you on the drive to the hospital, seemed concerned about your wellbeing and then… nothing. 

You were almost thankful for the blowup in your driveway when you got home, the indifference crueler than any active distaste. Not that you understood what had pissed him off so much, not any more than you understood what made him so utterly uncaring to begin with. But at least him snarling at you and telling you exactly what he really thought cut you instead of leaving you floating in some vacuum that you had no right to be hurt by. Yelling at him had felt good, even if you’d cried when you went to bed that night, cradling your wrist to your chest as you remembered how he’d held you like he gave a shit. 

You knew, deep down, why it hurt as much as it did. Because, against your better judgement and all logic, you liked Joel. Watching him with Ellie damn near made you fall in love with the man but even without that, he felt safe in a way that men rarely did. You trusted him, you liked being close to him. You even appreciated how he’d worked with you to get better before you were going to start shooting Savage Starlight. You wanted him to like you, too. He just didn’t. 

“I don’t know,” you sighed. “He just… it seems like he hates me. I just don’t know why, I don’t know what I did to him, you know?” 

He frowned. 

“Hate’s a real strong word, shug.” 

“I know,” you said. “And it seemed like, maybe, we were in a good place for bit. I mean, when he first started, there was… I probably wasn’t the nicest.” 

“Really?” Justice made a skeptical face. “You’re always nice to people who work for you.” 

“Yeah,” you winced a little. “But I really didn’t want a body guard. And it’s not Joel’s fault he is one but I took it out on him. But then we kind of figured each other out a little - or it seemed like we did, anyway - and I thought… anyway, it was going well, I tried to do something nice and he made it perfectly clear how he sees me so… I guess it doesn’t matter.” 

“And you’re sure he doesn’t just wish he could fuck ya?” Justice smirked a little. 

You barked a laugh. 

“Pretty damn sure,” you said and then sighed. “At least this isn’t not permanent. Just until this whole stalker thing gets figured out.” 

“Well, he at least seems good at his job,” Justice said. “You need to let him do it. If not for you then for me’n Ellie. We need ya.” 

“I guess,” you rolled your eyes dramatically and he laughed. 

“You’re gonna get through this,” he said. “I know it’s been a shit year but you will.” 

“Yeah,” you sighed again and polished off your whisky. “Do you ever wish we hadn’t become famous? That the show flopped and we just faded to obscurity?” 

“You were famous long before we did that damn show,” he smiled a little. 

“Pedantic ass.” 

“But,” he ignored you. “Yeah, sometimes. Seems like shit would be a lot easier if I were an accountant who played music at some shit hole bar on the weekends and you were… I dunno, a theater teacher or something.” 

“Apparently we should have gone to college,” you said wryly. 

He snorted. 

“Guess so. You gonna be OK when I head to Dallas in the morning? I got sound check in the afternoon I gotta get back for.” 

“I’ll be fine,” you said. “I have to train in the afternoon, anyway.” 

“Sorry I only came for a little bit,” he said. “Tour schedule’s kicking my ass.” 

You smiled a little. 

“I’m really glad you did.” 

“Yeah,” he smiled back. “Me, too.” 

The two of you got up early and you walked him to his truck, giving him a long hug goodbye and watching until you couldn’t see him anymore. You sighed and went back inside, only to find Joel standing there in his pajamas - shirt on, at least - his arms crossed over his chest. 

“Not tryin’ to take off on me are you?” He asked. 

“Perpetually,” you said. “Because all I think about is ways to make your life difficult.” 

You ducked around him and headed for your room but he stopped you. 

“Can I talk to you.” 

You sighed and turned back to face him, brows raised. 

“What,” you said. 

He looked at you for a moment, his eyes oddly soft for a moment before going cold and dark again. 

“We have to work together, you and me,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I know I… made that harder, the other day…”

“You think?” 

“And I shouldn’t have,” he continued, ignoring you. “But I think it’s better if… if we keep our distance. Keep it professional.” 

You frowned, your eyebrows knitting together, heart thudding a little harder in your chest. 

“Professional,” you said. “When has it ever been anything but professional.” 

“Just…” he quirked his jaw and you could have sworn you could make out his hands forming fists in the pockets of his pajama pants. “Thought it should be said. Close quarters and all.” 

You watched him for a moment, trying to get a bead on him but you couldn’t read him, couldn’t tell what he wanted at all. You weren’t sure what you wanted, either. 

“Fine,” you said eventually. “Professional.” 

“Good,” he said, looking you up and down and, if you didn’t know any better, you could have sworn there was something like longing in his eyes. Your stomach clenched and his face hardened again. “Get me your itinerary for the week.” 

You had to stifle a smile at that. At least it was business as usual. You’d take that. 

“Sure, Big Miller.” 

He gave you a stiff nod before padding off to the kitchen and you tried not to wonder when it had been more than professional. 

Taglist: @christinamadsen@eff4freddie@brittmb115@copperhalfcent@r3dheadedwitch @pedropascalsbbg @lovelyjess69 @yopossum @moel-jiller @picketniffler @lilyevanstan1325 @reluctanthalfwayoptimism @wintersquirrel @missladym1981 @mellymbee @canthinkof1user @inept-the-magnificent @secretlyangelic @pedrobae @scarletsloveletter @phry-k

[toxicanonymity]

Uhhhh nightwalks Joel and reader getting high off their asses and then fucking

harder - 420 special, can read alone.

2.8k | Joel x f!Reader | night walks masterlist

IMG: dark profile shot of Joel that says, "lift heavy, talk dirty, smoke weed" and "night walks" in the bottom left.

He slowly rubs your thigh and says, “It's ok, pumpkin. Shouldn’ta had the windows open. Got hot workin' out.” He gets up and closes the windows, pulls the shades down, and double-locks the door. He dims the lights, too.  It’s still pretty hot inside.  You unzip your hoodie, and he wets his lips as you take it off. 

Ty 420 Anon, yard-spying bj anon, @missannwinchester, @xdaddysprincessxx , and everyone for all the great Qs, comments, and ideas. 👖

WARNINGS: 18+ Non-outbreak, AU pothead neighbor Joel, reader smokes, unspecified age gap, drinking, fingering, oral, unsafe vaginal sex (PIV), light choking, hard drug use, bad ideas. Mild dubcon bc drugs? (she has the intent before the drugs)

-

You start taking your night walks again.  You keep seeing your creepy neighbor Joel out in the wild anyway, and your efforts not to fuck him have been not only futile but increasingly weak. You’re walking your first lap around the neighborhood and a car pulls up to Joel's house.  A young woman gets out of the car.  She goes around back to his man cave where the door must be open because it sounds like he’s lifting weights.   Your stomach drops and your heart races.  Who is she? His estranged wife–if he even has one, you've never seen her–can’t be your age, can she?  Then again, if he can pull you . . . are you just one of many? 

Despite your best efforts, it doesn’t leave your mind.  When you come back around the neighborhood, your curiosity gets the best of you and you quietly prowl into the back of his yard.  His lights are on, so you can see clearly and it makes your insides turn.  In the window to the right, Joel is in the middle of sitting down.  He rubs his nose and eases back into the sofa with his hands behind his head, elbows out.  A look of pleasure spreads across his face. and he says “oh yeah.”   In the window to the left, she’s kneeling on the ground in front of him.  The gap between the windows spares you the explicit details.  Joel looks down, watching her and licking his lips and man, he looks hot.  Yeah, it actually turns you on.  

His eyes drift to the window and you quietly slink away before he sees you.  You walk around the block one more time and light up a joint, hoping to push away your traitorous gut reaction to this development.  You have all these thoughts like I should’ve given in.  . . .I should’ve come when he invited me. . . He finally gave up on me. . .  You know these thoughts make no sense.  They make you feel dirty.  He’s so skeezy and vile.  He’s been preying on you.  That’s what you want?

-

As you approach his cul de sac for the third time, she’s driving away.  That was so fast, you have to wonder if he paid her.  

“Evenin’, pumpkin.”  His voice startles you from the treeline.  He’s standing where you were. 

You don’t say anything.  You take a hit of your joint.  

“Yeah I bet you had a pretty good view from here,” he says.  

Your heart races and your face gets hot. 

You respond, “Have a good time?”

“Oh yeah, always a good time.  You wanna try it?” 

You scoff but almost, briefly entertain the idea. “I’m good.  How much does a blow job cost these days anyway?” You instantly regret the question.  Probably sounded resentful.  

“Depends how much you’re buyin’.” 

“What?”

“Ahh, blow job,” he says.  You're embarrassed by how loud he says it.  He slowly walks closer to the street – closer to you –  then stops when he’s a couple of feet away. He crosses his arms and his biceps bulges under his tight t-shirt.  “Blow job. . . that’s what you thought?  Well damn. I’m flattered, pumpkin. All jealous of my dealer spendin’ time with me.” As usual, you hate it when he’s right.  

“That’s what you call ‘contactless pick-up’?”

“That ain’t the weed girl.”

He walks around you slowly, like you’re a steak he’s about to carve up, then he puts his hand on the back of your neck and lowers his voice.

“That’s Michelle Pfieffer, baby.  Not Mary Jane.”  He looks at your joint and you hand it to him.  He's totally lost you.  "Never seen Scarface?"  He takes a hit, inhales, and holds. His broad chest swells with his lungs. Then he strokes your temple and squints at you, like he’s reading you, as he brings his mouth less than a centimeter from yours and exhales.  You breathe him in so cleanly, so greedily, barely any of it escapes into the air around you.  You hold, then turn your head to release the smoke.  It was too much, too soon, but you couldn’t turn him away. After successfully resisting a glance for several minutes, your eyes fall to the ample bulge in his PJs, sending a warm rush to your core. 

He smirks and strokes the nape of your neck.  You don’t say anything. You just stand there marveling at how genuinely hot he is.  Beautiful, even.  Shit, you’re really high. 

“C’mon,” he says and rotates around so he’s next to you, slightly behind you.  He squeezes your neck, and his forearm is resting between your shoulder blades when he starts walking you towards his basement.  You barely resist at all.  “Real bad girl shit, you’re gonna love it.” 

-

By the time you’re halfway to the door, his hand is no longer on your neck.  It’s drifted down to give your ass a brief squeeze, and for the first time since finding out his real intentions, you’re walking into his basement quite willingly. 

He nods to the couch.   “What do you want to drink?”

“Whatever.” You move a throw pillow out of your way and sit down. 

On the ottoman in front of the couch, there’s a mirrored tray with a credit card, loosely rolled $100 bill, and white powder residue.  She was doing a line, not sucking his cock. Now you’re even more embarrassed.  

Joel comes around the sofa and gives you an IPA.  

He sits down right next to you, manspreading with his hand on his inner thigh and his other thigh flush with yours.  He slowly rubs your leg and says, “It's okay, pumpkin. I shouldn’ta had the windows open. Got hot workin' out.”

He gets up and closes the windows, pulls the shades down, and double-locks the door. He dims the lights, too.  It’s still pretty hot inside.  As he slowly crosses the room, he wets his lips and watches you unzip your hoodie  You fold it up and set it in your lap.

"You gotta try this shit." He gets out his drug box. 

You hesitate and decline. 

“Girl as bad as you, never done hard drugs?” 

“Tried it, didn't like it.  It was gross.” 

“Bet it was cut with somethin’ gross.  This is good shit. maybe later though.  Hmm?"  He turns to face you, strokes your inner thigh, and studies your face.  

"Yeah I'm already high as fuck" you admit. 

He laughs.  “High as fuck . . . that makes two of us, pumpkin.”  You can see it in his eyes, too. He extends his beer to cheers yours.  

"Got all stressed out seein' me with another chick?"  

You take a long sip and observe the tent in his pants, resenting that he's right as usual.  He takes a long sip too then puts it down.  He leans in close, puts his mouth against your ear. "You don't have to say it," he whispers as he takes your beer out of your hand and your sweatshirt out of your lap, setting them on the table without fully leaving your space.  His cold hand slides between your legs, lightly trailing up your inner thigh over your thin joggers. Then he adds, "I can feel it."   

You’re already turning to face him.  Your legs open, making room for him.  “Yeah, that’s right” he says. 

You lean back, he gets between your legs, and his hands prowl up toward your shoulders, caging you to the couch.  He presses the hard silhouette of his cock into your inseam.  Then his mouth latches onto yours and your chest swells into him, your nipples hardening against his tight undershirt.  He makes room then his hand slides up under your undershirt – no bra – taking the shirt with it.  You help him pull it over your head.  Then he cups a breast and palms your hard nipple and your back arches.  You’re throbbing for him. 

“too hot for these,” he says, hooking fingers into your joggers. He begins to pull them down, then pauses when they’re at your knees.  He spreads you open with both thumbs and plants his mouth for a taste.  He licks and moans “Mmm’ into your cunt, then plunges his tongue inside, making your hips lift into his face.   

He comes up for air and says, "god damn you're hot," palming himself over his pants. He finishes pulling your joggers off.  "Hotter every fuckin time." He returns to grinding into you and sucks your neck. Holy fuck, he's hard.  So hard.  Your mouth falls open with a soft moan.  

"Yeah, you feel that? C’mon, let's get wild, baby."  He grinds into you a couple more times, says “yeah,” then sits back on his heels and gets the coke baggie. He picks up a small key ring from the coffee table.  Joel opens the bag and dips a key into it, getting the smallest little mountain of white powder on the end of the key, then he puts the baggie down on the tray.  

"C'mere a sec. It's just a little," he says.  You sit up while he makes a vertical fist and puts the smallest hill of white powder on the flat web between his thumb and forefinger.  It doesn't look like much, so you play along, closing a nostril and bringing your nose to his fist. You inhale and he says "attagirl," then with the same hand, he grabs your jaw and pulls your mouth into his for an aggressive kiss.  The back of your throat is dripping nasally, but you're tingling all over as his tongue invades your mouth with his hand holding your jaw.  Then that hand loosens and slides down to your throat and he pushes you back down on the couch, your head landing on the throw pillow. 

"Don't worry, pumpkin.  All yours tonight, every inch,” he says, stroking himself through his pants. That sends a bolt of desire right through you.  His hand slides down your chest  over your stomach to your dripping pussy and he says "you taste real fuckin good, you know that?" as he fingers you.  Then he licks his thick digits clean.  

He pulls down his waistband, frees himself from his PJ pants, then changes his mind and takes them off entirely.  He lays his hips onto yours, his stiff cock resting on  your mound and you tilt your hips in search of friction.   God, you need him so bad.  His face returns to your neck and you claw at his t-shirt.  He takes it off and admires you with red, half-lidded eyes while he's still sitting upright.  

"God you look so fuckin hot. . . “  He runs his hand lightly over your stomach, between your breasts, and back. You badly want him inside you. 

He takes the baggie and dips the key in it again. “Gotta do it, ‘fore I get you all sweaty.”   Then the cold metal on your cleavage makes your nipples harden and he inhales deeply.  He carefully draws a thin line along your cleavage, all the way up to your clavicle, then admires his work.  

"Baby you're the hottest thing ‘ever been in this room," he says and your heart swells a little, to your embarrassment. 

You watch him in a trance, wanting him back against your buzzing body.  He picks up and tightens the rolled up bill.  He strokes his naked cock with his other hand then lets it fall between your legs.  Your hips tilt, and his tip meets your entrance, nudging at your tight, wet hole while he braces himself on the couch.  Your legs open a little wider for him.  Your body is drunk with need.  Then he brings his head to your chest, the bill to his nose, and snorts the whole line, up to the bottom of your throat, and in the same swift motion, he plunges his stiff length into you with a groan, and you moan at the stretch of his girth.  

He tilts his head back and sniffles, staying inside you as he does it.   Jesus, who knew a cock could be so hard, or feel so good.  He retreats half way then pushes all the way into you again, bottoming out with a shudder. 

“God damn, baby,” he says, then begins to move his hips fluidly.  He feels so unequivocally good, you can’t even pretend he doesn’t.  No part of you can.  In a fucked up way, you feel like you’re exactly where you want to be in life, on the couch of this creep’s basement.   He grunts as he buries his rock-hard length inside you and sucks at your neck.  His cock fills you up just right, just the right amount of stretch, and the way he moves his hips, he’s rubbing you just right, too.  All you want is more of it.  

“Harder,” you hear yourself say.  

“What now?” he smirks with a hint of disbelief. 

“Harder, Joel.” He heard you the first time, he just wanted to hear it again. “Fuck me harder.”  Your hips lift into his and you wrap your legs all the way around him.  He rolls into you smoothly again, nodding, and you feel it building in your core.  You watch him in anticipation - his glistening biceps.  His absurd triceps.  His strong torso.  Something animalistic comes across his face. 

“Fuck yeah,”  he breathes.  

He slams into you with a grunt, and you moan.  You don’t bother trying not to.  Not tonight.  He hooks his arms under your shoulders for leverage and pounds into you again and again, to the hilt each time, grunting, breathing heavily.  You gasp.  He’s hitting that spot just right and he knows it.  You’re close to coming.  His messy hair bounces as he rails you.  

“Thought you’d never ask, baby,” he says.  

He moves one of his arms under your knee, putting that leg on his shoulder, and keeps railing you. It feels like your whole torso is being filled by him. You groan loudly, overwhelmed by him all up in your guts.   It’s like he’s been holding out on you – he was already so good and this is just ridiculous.  

“Fuckin’ love this pussy,” he pants, looking at you like a work of art as he fucks you.  Your back arches and you writhe under him, so close to the edge.  He somehow pushes even further.  

“And you love this cock, don’t ya?” You nod, tears prickling your eyes.  Sweat falls off his chest onto yours as he pummels you.  

“Fuck yeah,” he growls.  

“Yeah,” you pant, practically a whisper. You could do this all night.  

He slams into you hard again, tripping you over the edge, and you repeat “Yeah,” louder, which turns into a moan as you squirm under him through your waves of pleasure and your body jerks.  

“I know, baby,” he says. “Attagirl, yeah, come on this cock.” You continue to contract, and manage to stammer, “Oh God, don’t stop.” 

As your climax wanes, he hooks both his arms under yours again and says “c’mere,” as his hips  roll into you more gracefully again.  He kisses you, and moans into your mouth as he fucks you, and you quickly feel it building again.  You moan and he says, “hell yeah.” 

He pulls out and your gut reaction is”no,” before he can even help you into straddling him.  “Well hot damn,” he says and sits back for you to ride him. 

You push yourself up by your elbows, then begin to climb into his lap.  

“All yours, baby.  Ride it.”  

You can’t sink onto him fast enough.  You both grunt as your bodies are joined.  You roll your hips into him and his large hands move you on his cock.  He takes a nipple into his mouth and your head falls back.  You still can’t get over how hard he is.  You could do this all night, you think.  

But it isn’t long before his breath changes and you know he’s gonna come.  Yeah, you know he’s about to come, and yet, you can’t bear to tear yourself off his cock. He pulls you down flush against him with a groan and holds you there.  His head falls back. His hips lift, and he pulses enormously inside you, sending you for your second time.  You whine “Oh, God,” as you clench around him.  And he moans,  lifting his hips into you with each rope.  Then you cut his moan off with your lips on his, and he groans into your mouth.  

You sit on his lap with his cock still inside as you catch your breaths.  Eventually, he gives your ass a squeeze and says, “God I’m thirsty.” 

You agree, and get off him.  He hands you your beer and you take a long swig.  

“I’m spent, pumpkin.  Got too fuckin’ high.  You tired?” 

Yeah, you are.  

“Alright, let’s take a nap and do that again,” he says. 

 And you stay. 

-

A/N: I'm curious if anyone recognizes this situation, because it's based on a movie/scene that inspired the neighbor & drugs premise of night walks to begin with. I know where we're picking up from here thanks to @missannwinchester 👖 and still have many night walks ideas on the board from y'all, brewing and welcome.

-

TAGS

NW: @tehweeana@lokanda@blackvelveteen1339@cutesyscreenname@ele-meno-p lmk if i missed you

All joel: @ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxiousus @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime  @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @lokanda

[forever-rogue]

Hey there

I’m sooo obsessed with everything you write .. You’re so talented it’s insane

Might I request something really really angsty like heart crushing angst where the reader is suffering alone and pining over Joel while he goes on dates in Jackson (bc he never thought that reader is interested because of age gap) but Ellie notices and tries to bring them together

AN | Okay but imagine also some jealous!reader. All I will say is that there is a happy ending 🥰 

Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language

Word Count | 2.7k

Masterlist | Joel, Main

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Another evening, which meant another disappointment. 

You sighed heavily as you watched him walk down the street, a pretty blonde woman happily blabbering away next to him. Your heart clenched and stomach flipped at the sight. You hated it, even though you were in position to have any sort of opinion on the subject. Almost as if he sensed your unease and prying eyes, he turned around and caught your eyes. He offered you a small smile that you didn’t have the energy to return. Instead you turned around and walked away, trying to blink back the tears that threatened to give you away. He was left confused, but his attention was quickly stolen again by the woman at his side. 

You hated that you had feelings for him; you hated the fact that you could never have him even more. 

But - let’s rewind. It hadn’t always been like this. At one point you were sure you had a shot with Joel Miller. He’d been sweet on you since you moved to Jackson a few years back. At first you thought this was how he acted with everyone; Ellie had informed that it was most definitely not how treated just anyone. 

And you let yourself get your hopes up. Maybe, just maybe, he felt even a verisimilitude of the ocean of feelings you held for him in return. But the times you allowed yourself to put your feelings on display, he either did not realize what you were doing or he ignored your affections. The first time you chalked it up to a fluke - that maybe you weren’t being clear or direct enough. After the next few times you were almost positive that he didn’t reciprocate your feelings. He was probably just putting up with you….the girl that pined over him and loved him the way the moon loves the ocean.

Over time you pulled back from him, spent less time around him, maybe yourself scarce when he was around. A little bit more every day you allowed the divide to grow. At first Joel had chalked up to you actually being busy, or just being in a mood, but eventually he knew what was going on. That this was intentional. You didn’t bother to explain yourself, didn’t even give him the opportunity to ask why. 

You hid yourself away while he put himself out there. Yeah, feelings really sucked sometimes.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You had been trying to enjoy a drink. One drink with a friend at the end of a long week; it was innocent and honest enough. 

But you couldn’t help the way your eyes gravitated to the door each time it opened. It was like the masochist part of you was wanting to see him and allow yourself to get hurt. 

This evening it hurt. You watched as Joel held the door open, a saccharine little smile on his face, as a gorgeous woman walked in. She was beaming at him, and her hand reached for his almost instantly. This had to be the third or fourth woman you’d seen him out with in recent memory.

“You’re staring,” Daisy hissed as you tore your gaze from the door and turned back to your finger, “could you be any more obvious?”

“What do you mean?” you tried to keep your voice as calm as possible, painting a sweet smile on your features.

“Joel,” she started, completely seeing through your bullshit, “it’s so clear to anymore with eyes, and probably without eyes, that you’re in love with him.”

“Daisy!” you clamped your hand over her mouth and looked around to make sure that no one else heard her, “shut up!”

“Why?’ she pried your hand away with a huge smirk, “because it’s true?”

“It is not,” you sounded like you were pleading with her more than anything else, “he’s just…another man. Besides…I’ve tried to make a move before - don’t laugh at me - and he all but rejected me. I’m not looking for any more humiliation.”

“That’s impossible,” she scoffed and raised her eyebrow, “he likes you! If you’re not looking at him, he’s always looking at you.” 

“No,” shaking your head fervently, a small part of your heart couldn’t help but wonder if what she was saying was true, “you’re wrong.”

“Babes,” she patted your knee, “I can see him right now and he looks bored out of his mind. He’s totally not even paying attention to what she’s saying and - oh. Oh. He’s totally looking at you.”

“Stop,” you sighed softly, fighting the urge to turn around and see for yourself, “it’s not anything and it’s never going to be anything. So.”

“So,” she teased back, “he’s coming over so be on your best behavior.”

Panic set in immediately as you wondered if you had enough time to run away - but he made up your mind for you.

“Daisy,” Joel gave her a nod as she grinned at him before saying your name and turning to look at you, “hi.”

“Hey,” you allowed yourself the briefest of glances before turning back to stare at your drink as though it was the most interesting thing in the world.

“Everything alright?” he asked, gently pushing for answers, “haven’t seen you around much.”

“‘m fine,” you waved him off, “better get back to your date.”

He remained silent for a moment, his brow setting into a hard line before turning to walk away, “see y’all around.”

Daisy’s mouth dropped open as she looked between you and his retreating back, “that was harsh.”

“Daisy, he’s on a date,” she sighed heavily, “he can go and be happy with her.”

“You do care about him,” after a few moments, you nodded slightly, “well then.”

“Can we just drop it?” you asked softly, “please?”

“Okay,” she promised, “okay.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Almost a week had passed since you’d last seen Joel. It had served as short of a blessing and curse at the same time. It made it easier to separate yourself from him, but served to make your heart yearn and ache for him. Over time, you figured, that too would pass and you’d be able to move on from him. 

But Joel Miller, a stubborn and steadfast man, was not about to make your life that easy. 

He found you walking home and practically sprinted to catch up with you. Part of you was tempted to ignore him, but then you felt him put his hand on your arm, “hey, stop. “

“Joel.”

“You’ve been ignorin’ me for long enough,” and yeah…he wasn’t afraid in the slightest to call you out. You stopped and turned to him, crossing your arms over your chest, “I think you owe me at least an explanation.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about-”

“Don’t lie to me,” he scrubbed a hand over his tired face as you shrugged innocently, “I know something is wrong, and I wish…I thought we were friends. You can tell me anything.”

“There’s nothing to tell. You didn’t do anything,” you wanted to tell him the truth, wanted to tell him that his only fault was not feeling the same way about you, “I’ve just been busy and stuff. It’s not that deep.”

“Quit lying to me.”

“Fuck!” you threw up your hands in frustration, “fine - Joel, I don’t want to be your friend. We can’t be friends. I don’t want…you.”

He recoiled like you’d slapped him across the face. In some ways, he would have that - it would have hurt less. You felt like crying at the look of surprise and disappointment that crossed his features. You hadn’t meant for it to be so harsh and brutal, “oh.”

“I should go,” go and crawl into your bed and cry yourself to sleep because you’d hurt yourself and him.

“Why?” his question was simple but pointed, “tell me why and you’ll never have to be again. You owe me an explanation at least because before all of this - I thought we were okay.”

“Joel-”

“Please.”

“Because I’m in love with you.” you weren't sure if you’d really meant to say the words out loud but as soon as they tumbled out, both of you stared at each other in shock. Well…there was no going back now, “because I’m in love with you and you don’t feel the same and I can’t handle that. And maybe it’s stupid and selfish, but I can’t just be your friend, Joel. It kills me a little bit every time I see you out with someone else, and I’m just here being pathetic and pining. And I’m sorry to do this, but the only way I can see myself getting over any of it is by not being your friend.”

“You…you’re in love with me?” was all he managed to choke out, eyes soft and wide.

“I’m sorry,” you stared at the ground, kicking at a rock, “I didn’t mean for this to happen. But you wanted the truth and there is it.”

“Oh,” you already knew that he didn’t reciprocate your feelings, but his response didn’t make you feel any better.

“I’m going to…go,” you didn’t wait for him to say anything else, turning on your heel and practically running the rest of the way home. You felt tears pearl up and run down your cheeks, but didn’t bother to wipe them away, instead running inside and slamming the door shut. 

That might have been the most painful and humiliating moment of your life. But at least it was all over now. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

But Joel…no. It was far from over for him because he had just experienced about a million revelations at once.

The most prevalent of which was that you were in love with him. He had no clue…not even a sliver of hope. But now he knew. He knew. 

He'd thought about following you home that night but had decided against it, figuring it was best to give you some space.

Joel even let a few days pass before he couldn't take it anymore. He had to see you, had to talk to you before he completely lost his mind.

And yes, he probably shouldn't have come to your work, but he couldn't stop him. You hadn't even noticed it was him when you heard the bell over the door to the coffee shop twinkled but didn't bother to see who it was. People normally just seated themselves; but this time someone walked towards you behind the counter.

You turned around and gasped when you saw it was Joel on the other side of the counter. You thought about ducking under the counter but it was much too late for that. Instead you stood there wordlessly while he tried to find the right words.

"Sorry for ugh, showing up like this," he scratched at the back of neck nervously, "I just really had to talk to you."

"A-about what?" Your voice sounded so small and squeaky that you cringed internally. You did want to seem like a pathetic little mouse on top of everything.

"The other night," he cleared his throat as your face burned. Fuck.

"Look I'm sorry about all of that," you sighed, cheeks way too warm, "I shouldn't have said anything and I'm sorry if I made things…awkward." 

"I'm the one that should be sorry," he whispered after a few beats of silence, "I should have just said what I wanted to. But I got scared."

"Scared? You?" You raised an eyebrow as he met your eye and nodded, "of what?"

"Of telling you how I really feel."

"Oh," you waved a hand dismissively, "I already know that you just want to be my friend. Look, Joel, I don't think I'll be able to do that. I can't just change my own feelings."

"That's not…no," and he sighed softly, taking a moment to gather himself, "that's not exactly what I meant."

"W-what do you mean then?" Your eyes widened but you found yourself leaning closer to him. He'd approached the counter now and was very close to you. Your heart was hammering against your ribcage and your mind was reeling with the possibilities of what he could say or do, "Joel?"

Joel hesitated for a moment before reaching up and holding out a hand towards your face. You stood still and when you didn't try to brush him off, he put his hand on your face and brushed his thumb over your cheek. If you had felt warm before, you felt like you were on fire now. His touch was a juxtaposition of soft and rough and had you preening into his touch.

"Can I kiss you?" He whispered his question, almost so quiet that you weren't really sure he'd actually said anything. But then a look of shock crossed your features. Joel wondered for a moment if he'd completely messed up but then the smallest hint of a smile crossed your features.

"Uh huh," you left dumbfounded as you blinked at him, "yes."

He ghosted his fingers along your jaw before slowly pressing his lips to yours. And you almost fell apart from even the simplest of touches. It felt so right, so perfect that you wondered why you hadn't done this a lot sooner. Kissing Joel Miller was everything.

Joel pulled back and gave you a questioning look, trying to gauge your reaction. Your mouth opened and closed a few times before settling into a small pout, "why did you kiss me?"

He laughed - nervous - before turning back to you, "isn't it obvious, sweetheart?"

"Isn't what obvious?" You exhaled sharply, "oh. So, you don't like me as just a friend?"

"No, I don't," he nodded.

"You like me…" you trailed off and waved your hand around, "as more than a friend."

"Bingo."

"You never said anything."

"Neither did you," he had you there as you shrugged sheepishly, "why didn't you?"

"I didn't think you'd ever want someone like me. Me," you wanted to curl up into a small ball and die at how pathetic the confession sounded out loud, "why didn't you?"

"Same reason," he was close to your lips and you could have just about kissed him, "why would you want me?"

"That's a silly question," you huffed slightly but nonetheless found yourself giving him a beaming smile.

"I could say the same to you," and with that, you couldn't stop yourself and kissed him again, "there's a million things to say but I'd like to tell them some other time. Like maybe over dinner…"

"Are you asking me on a date?" Your eyes went huge as he nodded, "what about all those…other girls?"

"Admittedly…they were a vain attempt to get over you," he chewed the inside of his cheek as he chanced a look at you, "and nothing ever happened with any of them. Nothing more than dinner or a beer. So."

"So," and yeah, by this time you were beaming. Your smile was brighter than the sun and prettier than the lushest flowers. And Joel Miller was a sucker for you, "nothing?"

"Nada," he promised, "but I'll let you decide…you don't have to give me an answer right now."

"I already know the answer - yes," Joel was over the moon already, "when are you free?"

"Any time for you," he insisted and you knew that was true. He'd always been like that for you, and you only. 

"Tonight?" You blurted out eagerly before stopping yourself.

"Tonight," he agreed, "do you want to come over? I'll make dinner and dessert."

"That sounds…lovely," trying to keep your mind in check was already a challenge. You knew exactly what you had in mind for dessert, "I'm off at seven if that's okay."

"Of course," he reached for your hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, "tonight. Seven."

"Okay," your response was a dreamy sigh that had him yearning hard for you already - more than he already had which had seemed impossible, "see you tonight, Joel."

"See you tonight, sweetheart."

[sunflowersteves]

crazy || j.m.

chapter two of ain't no sunshine

pairing || joel miller x f!sunshine!reader

summary || you get injured during a patrol and Joel is too occupied to assist your wound. what happens when someone else has to take over?

author's note || i hope you all enjoy chapter two! since the second to last episode, all i could think about was that smirk joel gave. oop. i promise next chapter will be fluffy. now that it's spring beak, i'm hoping to write much more for this series. can be read as a stand alone but follows a series! 5.8k!

warnings || jealousy, injury, hurt/comfort, canon-typical violence, murder, blood, possessiveness, brad has his own warning (ifkyk), unrealistic recovery time, delirium, joel is self deprecating and self sabotaging, arguments, SMUT, rough sex, fingering, praise kink, taunting, degradation, dom joel, joel is a little mean, but don't worry because soft joel makes an appearance, soft sex, creampie, [18+ only!!]

series masterlist || part one || masterlist

Crazy for thinking that my love could hold you I'm crazy for trying and crazy for crying And I'm crazy for loving you

You weren’t sure when it happened—when the blade twisted into your gut, cutting your flesh and piercing your intestines. You could feel the pain. It was dull and throbbing as wet crimson seeped into your t-shirt. 

You heard a cried-out yell, and turning toward your side, you saw it. You saw the knife that was once in your stomach was now in your hand—lodged into your attacker’s skull. Your body had acted on instinct and perpetrated that familiar gut feeling of violence and revenge. 

You pause, just for a moment. You could feel the adrenaline kick into your system, and a numbing pain flushed out your senses. The blood felt warm and sticky—prompting the sleepiness to feel calming, and it urged you forward into its safe surroundings. 

But then you felt it. Panic. Panic rose in your neck as you looked around for someone. Your hand darted out to try and find them, but your mind was starting to become blank from the fuzzy warmth of pain. 

Joel.

You needed Joel.

But all you knew was that Joel wasn’t by your side. Joel wasn’t here. He wasn’t holding your hand. He wasn’t whispering into your ear about how everything was going to be okay. 

You didn’t know where he was. Then, you collapsed to the snowy ground, white dots fluttering around you. It was almost comforting the way the snow danced around you like soft wet pillows. You opened your mouth. You wanted to say something—you wanted Joel, but nothing could leave your lips.

It all happened too fast—too soon after just leaving the commune for a patrol. You and Joel had spotted someone walking too close to the river, but you and the rest of your party hadn’t seen the tracks behind you. You never noticed four men creeping their way to surround you. 

It almost felt astonishing, really. You, Joel, Tommy, Maria, and Brad were not new to the dangers of survival, especially you and Joel.

The two of you and Ellie have had your fair share of raiders and non-friendly people alike. You and Joel protected Ellie in every way possible, punching your way through cheekbones and splattering scarlet liquid. 

You and Joel weren’t new to picking out tracks and finding the smallest detail of other life. So how could you miss this?

“I’ve got you.”

Your brow crinkles. That doesn’t sound like Joel. You peek open one of your eyes to see a man—what was his name? Oh, yeah. Brad. 

You didn’t want Brad. You wanted Joel. You wanted the scruff of gray hair poking out loudly against the soft brunette ones. You wanted those honeyed brown eyes staring at you in concern and anguish. You wanted Joel to hold your hand as he gently took you into his arms and carried you all the way back. 

Finally, you speak. “Joel. N-Need Jo—”

“I know, but he’s not here.” He placed his hand on your abdomen and applied a great deal of pressure. Your breath hitches, but then your lips fall into a frown. 

“Joel isn’t here?” Tears start to water your lash line, but none of them fall. If you weren’t preoccupied with the open wound on your side, you would have noticed the twitch of a smirk on Brad’s lips. He was purposely attempting to make you feel alone like you've been abandoned by your partner. 

Your eyes start to sting, a fresh tear falling down the side of your face, right below your temple. Something was wrong. Something felt very wrong. You knew Joel would never ever abandon you, so why did Brad say that?

You could feel yourself become dizzy, and the white specs that fluttered around you started to become hazy. You opened your mouth, and your eyes felt so heavy. You could hear someone telling you to stay awake, and it didn’t feel like Brad this time. Maria? Tommy? 

You weren’t sure, but it was no use. You let the sweet lullaby of sleep take over you, and your eyes fluttered closed. 

You whispered Joel's name over and over. 

═ ∘◦❦◦∘ ═

Tommy hadn’t seen Joel act like this in quite some time. Everyone saw their fair share of grumpy glares and pissed off, snarling Joel, but never this—not since the very beginning of the outbreak.

Joel had just been so irate. He was so entirely impassioned with rage—furious and calculating as his fist connected with the raider's face, over and over. But there was something else, too. Fear and hurt swirled and ignited between his brown eyes at the sight of the blood that seeped into your clothing. 

He watched it all happen. He watched the knife lodge into your stomach. He saw your blood that almost became fluorescent in the white snow. He felt his chest seize as his eyes followed your fist that was puncturing the knife into the raider’s skull. 

He saw the way Brad flew to your side, the way that he yelled at you to stay awake. He watched as your eyes fluttered close, and desperation rose in his throat. He tried calling out your name, but he couldn’t get to you.

One of the raiders wrapped his arm around his neck and choked him—no doubt the raider using Joel’s vulnerability of pure agony to his advantage. 

He couldn’t get to you.

He repeated it over and over in his head. He grabbed the raider’s arm and used the weight of his body to fling the guy forward. Joel didn’t waste a single second. He grasped the gun that was flung out of his hands earlier to the raider’s face. 

The clock was ticking. He couldn’t get to you.

“Wait, wait, wait, I can help—”

Joel pulled the trigger, releasing the bullet and popping loudly against the barrel—shoving the nine millimeters of metal into the man’s head. He fell limp to the ground, and the hands that were clenching around Joel’s forearms slowly dropped. 

He looked over in an instant to see that Tommy had knocked out the last of the men that had surrounded all of you. His head snapped back over to you, feet crunching against the snow with each step. 

You weren’t moving—not even your eyes were fluttering—and Joel felt the whole world swallowing him whole. His heart thumped loudly against his chest as his knees hit the ground, no doubt bruising them in the process. 

Brad was on the other side of you, applying pressure to the wound still. “About time, old man.”

Joel ignored him—honestly, he was not even sure he really registered his presence at all. All Joel could do was hold your face, not caring about any of the blood that smeared onto your cheek. “Baby?”

His eyes skated across your face to see a sign—a twitch of your brow, a pull at your lips, anything. He could see the tears that started to gloss over his vision. “Sunshine, please.” 

He paused, desperately searching. “Please.” 

Tommy says Joel’s name softly as if he were going to snap at any moment. He flinched a little when Joel moved. The dark depths of memories from before rushed through his brain. His mind almost became blank—so did Joel’s. Was this going to be the same?

Maria was the one that snapped them out of it, holding her broken wrist to her chest. “We need to leave. We have to get her to the clinic.”

Joel's arm loops itself under your neck, and Tommy pulls your legs up to make it easier to lift you. He scoops you up into his arms, pressing a watery kiss to your forehead. He needed to get you home, and he needed to do it now. 

You murmur just barely under your breath and so quietly that he almost misses it. He wasn’t quite sure if you were even conscious. 

“Joel.”

═ ∘◦❦◦∘ ═

Worry, why do I let myself worry?

Wondering what in the world did I do?

Crazy for thinking that my love could hold you

The crackling, sultry voice of Patsy Cline flooded into your ears. Your eyes blinked open to see familiar plain white walls. You breathed in to smell fresh pine and some reminiscence of Joel’s cooking. 

Home. You were home. 

You could feel yourself groan as a dull pain spread from your abdomen to your chest. Your head felt a little fuzzy, and you tried to get your bearings, pushing yourself up from what felt like fluffy pillows. 

“Easy. Woah, slow down.” You smiled at the high-pitched voice. Ellie. 

She grabbed your hand, the other guiding the small of your back to sit up. While your wound had mostly healed by this point, there was still going to be a lot of internal discomfort. 

“How long was I out?” You rasped out, your vocal cords rubbing like sandpaper against your throat. You coughed out, and Ellie was quick to bring a glass of water to your lips. 

You gulped down heavily, the relief of the cold liquid soothing your aching throat. You cleared your throat and handed the water back to her. “How long?”

Ellie bit her lip, an uneasy expression lifting onto her face. “Six weeks.”

Your mouth gaped open. “Six weeks? Oh my god—”

She tried to quickly play it off as if she, Joel, Tommy, and Maria weren’t shitting their pants every day at the thought of you never waking up. “But Patsy Cline woke you up! I played all your favorites, especially the ones that you and Joel like to sing all the time, and I knew for sure that she was going to do the trick and—”

“Where’s Joel? Is he okay? Did they hurt him?”

Ellie winced at the mention of his name, but her heart also thumped against her chest. You were literally stabbed in the stomach and almost died multiple times, yet you still thought of someone else. You still thought about the safety and well-being of Joel.

His typical sunshine. Her typical mother. 

She gently squeezed your hand. “Joel is fine. He only had a couple of bruises.” She paused before answering your first question. “He’s, um, at Tommy’s.”

You just blinked, feeling the disappointment crash against your chest. “Oh.” 

Oh. That was okay. He didn’t need to be constantly by your side. Maybe he just needed some rest or comfort from his younger brother. That was okay, right?

Right?

“Is he sleeping?” You could tell by the way she avoided your eyes that something was wrong. What that was, you weren’t exactly sure. He wasn’t injured, so what else could it be? You gulped—suddenly feeling parched again. 

“No…He’s awake. I think so, anyway.” She winced again and knew that she wasn’t helping his case at all. “He hasn’t exactly left Tommy’s to come here.”

When Joel carried you all that way to the clinic in Jackson, he collapsed on the hard ground and cradled you in his arms. You felt cold. You felt unmoving. The entire walk back, he felt helpless—breaths of hopelessness crowded his brain, and all he could think about was that he lost you.

When they tried to take you into the operating room, Joel almost wouldn’t let them. He was clouded by fear and burning with uncleansed rage. 

He lost you, and he did nothing about it. He lost you, and he did nothing about it. It repeated through his head until he could no longer think, hear, see—anything at all—but those words. He couldn’t let them take you—he wouldn’t let them take you from him.

Finally, after realizing that he was wasting the precious time of your beating heart, he let them carry you into a back operating room. He never left the clinic that night, even after the ten-hour surgery. 

After that, though, Joel wasn’t the same. At least, he didn’t feel like it. 

While Tommy knew that and Maria knew that, you and Ellie didn’t. Ellie hadn’t seen Joel in six weeks—just Tommy checking in and bringing her the basics of food and water and helping you. Maria would come too, to bathe you and give you medicine. At first, Ellie thought that Joel had just been hurt or he was forced to go on another patrol.

But no. She realized Joel just hadn’t visited you at all. She was angry at first, stomping over to him and giving him a piece of her mind. As she calmed down, though, she knew Joel cared about you. Deeply. 

He was just…Joel. 

He was unemotional and brash. He was jarring and inanely grumpy all the time. He has violent tendencies and a very distant, dark past. He pushed everyone away from him—only gave affection within a ten-foot pole radius. God, he really, really pushes the people he loves away. 

She knew that she could handle that. She was stubborn and hardheaded like him, so it was a bit easier. She just was worried you wouldn’t be able to handle that.

Ellie and Joel were your worlds. You even told the two of them that when star-gazing one night on the roof of your cabin. You were sweet and doting. You were so calculating and headstrong when you needed to be. But if Joel wasn’t careful about this, she knew he could break your heart.

You go to stand, suddenly feeling a burst of anger rush through you. Ellie could tell by the way your eyebrow twitched and the hard thumps of your socked feet sauntered across the floor that you were very mad. 

“Look, please just—”

You hear a crashing noise outside of the guest bedroom door. Both of your heads whipped over to the loud sound. You would have almost let fear take hold of your chest if it weren’t for Joel bursting through the door not a second later.

His chest heaved up and down, rapidly, and eyes wide at the sight of you standing. You were in some sweatpants and one of his flannel button-ups. Your hair was a little damp. He had no doubt it was from Ellie washing it earlier this morning. 

“Joel.”

His eyes don’t even acknowledge Ellie’s presence. They’re just scanning your body over and over. You seem okay. You seem good. You seem alive.

His body carried itself forward before he was even thinking. His arm stretched out, and the pads of his fingers stroked your cheek. He takes a minute to look at the ways your eyes shone from the light of the window. 

He then retraced his hand so fast, as if your skin was a hot stove—sizzling and burning to the touch. He even took a few paces back. He could feel his eyes watering with each deep, dismal thought pulling him under. 

“You’re awake.”

He said it so softly that you weren’t even sure you heard him right. You just stood there, mouth opening in shock at his reaction. You weren’t really sure what to make of any of this. Shit, you weren’t even awake twenty minutes ago. 

Ellie cleared her throat at the awkwardness. “I’m gonna…go do things.” With that, she left the room, and a small ‘yikes’ escaped her lips. 

There was a long beat of silence before either of you spoke. Joel still looked at you, though. He couldn’t help himself. He still couldn’t believe that you were awake. You were the one to break it, your mind was wandering too aimlessly at all of the unknowns. 

“You didn’t visit me.” He opened his mouth, but you didn’t let him talk. “Ellie said I was in a coma for six weeks and you didn’t visit me.”

The cracking of your voice and the tears on your waterline broke his heart into two. It was split wide open and ached against his chest. “I-I couldn’t. I saw you layin’ there, darlin’, and I just couldn’t.”

You lightly scoffed. “Couldn’t or wouldn’t? I mean seriously Joel, who the fuck doesn’t visit their partner after they almost die and—”

“What do you want me to say, huh? That I wasn’t fuckin’ there for you? Is that what you want me to say?”

You purse your lips, your hands flying in the air. “No! I–I wanna know why, Joel. I wanna know why you couldn’t even see me.”

His nostrils flare at your tone—crackled and gloomy as it echoed across the room. “Why would you want to see someone like me? Huh? Brad was all over you, and—”

You couldn’t believe him right now. You almost didn’t, but the swirl of green that rested in between his eyes said otherwise. Joel didn’t visit you in your own shared home after being seriously injured because he was jealous? 

“Oh, my god.” You wanted to laugh, and you did. Laughter, the kind that was dark and fluid, bubbled through you. “You can’t be serious.”

You could tell there was something he wasn’t telling you. His hands were tight around the doorframe, and his eyes were glued to the ground. You wanted to pry a bit more, but as Joel always says, “You’re an absolute sunshine until that fire ignites inside of you.” 

“Maybe I should go to him, then.”

Yeah, that got his attention. His eyes flickered up towards yours, mouth opening slightly. “What?”

You crossed your arms over your chest. “You heard me. Maybe I should go see Brad. I should tell him to take me out to dinner at the bar. He seemed super interested a couple of weeks ago when he—”

“You shut your fuckin’ mouth.” Your mouth snapped closed as Joel towered over you. His nostrils flared, chest pulling up and down at a rate that was too calm—too calm while the red between his eyes burned a hole in your own chest. “You think Brad can please you? hmm?”

His fingers grip your jaw so that you’re forced to maintain eye contact. Not that you would give the satisfaction to Joel from the throb of your core anyway. “Yeah, Joel, I think he can.”

His eyes squinted, his face leaning even closer than before. “So if I shoved my hand down, your pussy wouldn’t be drippin’ for me?”

Yeah, okay. He’s got you there. “Huh? Gonna say anything, darlin’?” You defiantly squint your eyes back up into his. His tone was anything but sweet—it was snarling and patronizing as his brows furrowed even further.

Before you could even open your mouth to give a snarky comment back, Joel aggressively shoves the sweatpants you had on down to your ankles. “You’re a fuckin’ brat, you know that?”

He gets on his knees, fingers pushing between your folds. Sure enough, you’re wet. As if on cue, Joel smirks as his finger swirls to grab your sweet nectar. “F-Fuck you, Joel.”

“Yeah?” He groaned into your ear. His thumb presses deep into your clit, sparking your hips to jolt at the pressure. “I don’t think so, darlin’. I don’t think you deserve my cock.”

You gasped, “J-Joel–”

He slipped his index finger, pushing through your tight walls. His cock twitches at the whimper that left your lips. “All I’m doin' is fuckin’ you good with my fingers.” 

His torrid voice breaks you whole, sweet accent slurring his words together. “Can Brad do that? Could he make you dumb from just his fingers?”

He wants you to answer him, but he knows the pleasure is starting to blossom in your lower abdomen. His fingers always made you cum so fast and so hard. They always stretched your aching pussy so wide and scissored the perfect angle into you.

So, he was going to take his sweet time. 

He chuckled. “C’mon, you weren’t this shy earlier. I want you to answer me, sunshine.” Your head tilts back in a gasp, the nickname rolled off of his tongue, and it was so blissful. “Can Brad do this?”

You shake your head, mouth opening, but nothing comes out. You were sensitive—really sensitive. “You can do it, pretty girl.” God, he was enjoying this a bit too much, it was starting to drive you insane. “Answer me.”

The demanding tone struck through your chest, and you almost didn’t give in. All anger practically washed out of you when he inserted another finger—curling them with each thrust. “No! H-He can’t. B-Brad can’t fuck me like you do.”

A devilish smile sprouts from his lips at your affirmation. “That’s all you had to say, sunshine. I fuck you better, hmm?” The squelch of your juices running down his fingers sounded almost ethereal to his ears. “Look at you,” he coos, and you almost believed that it was sweet. “Fuckin’ dumb from just my hand.”

He pauses, almost taunting like. “Do you want my cock?”

Your fingernails dug deep into his shoulders, his name clouding over your mind, and it was all you seemed to think about. “Yes! Please, Joel! I-I want your cock. N-Need it, please.”

“Well, you can’t fuckin’ have it.” His fingers shove even deeper through your walls—finding that spongy spot that makes you mewl. “You don’t deserve it, sunshine.”

You weren’t sure how much more you could handle as the pressure builds, making your head feel a bit fuzzy. “Joel, please. I’m—” 

Oh.

Oh, you see it now. You almost say it. The apology almost rings through your ears. He wanted you to apologize for what you said to him, and it almost worked. Almost. 

You may be happy and considerate the majority of the time, but you were angry. Irritation still bubbled up between your chest, and you weren’t about to let Joel get away with something so easily. 

As if he knew, his eyes flared in anger. “Fuckin’ cum.” 

“I–I won’t—” You say defiantly, trying to make him more frustrated. He knew you better than that, though. He could feel the clench of your walls and the grip on his shoulders became increasingly tight.

“Fuckin’ cum right now, sunshine, or—” Your mouth hangs open as your orgasm breaks you whole. It flutters through you as he works you through it, thighs shaking and Joel’s name chanting from your lucid tongue. 

“Doing so good for me, yeah?” His hand thrusts into you, thumb still stroking your puffy clit. He groans at the gush of your juices dripping down to his wrist, and he leaned down, tongue swirling to just grab a little taste of you. “Y’taste so good, darlin’.”

Your head rolled over to nod. Your eyelids were heavy from the pure pleasure that rushed through your head and down to your toes. His fingers slip out of you easily, and plops them into his mouth, sucking every drop of your orgasm.

He takes his fingers out of his mouth and pulls himself up from the ground. Something sinks in between his stomach, though. He can feel the dread of confrontation unfolding in his eyes. 

The way you look up at him, Joel knows he doesn’t deserve this. You don’t deserve this. Your hand fluffs through the back of his hair, and he thought that your touch would bring him the comfort he needed. But it doesn’t.

He feels like he is going to be sick. He was mean to you. He degraded you. He acted like he didn’t trust you. You could see that he was pulling himself away from you with the way that his eyes snapped shut and his head shook back and forth. 

You tried to reel him back in, wanting him to know that you were just as angry as he was. You were just as turned on by his rage as he was by yours. But it was no use. Joel Miller had made up his mind already.

“I’m going for a walk.”

Your face fell as he bolted from the room. Pain swirled in your stomach, and a sob escaped your lips. You suddenly felt sick to your stomach, and everything just felt so wrong. There was a sunken feeling in your chest—a feeling of a hole burning through your heart. 

He left you.

Again.

═ ∘◦❦◦∘ ═

Tap, tap. Maria opened the door to your bedroom just a little, peeking her head in. “So the rumors are true. You are awake.”

You turned the pages of your favorite book, not even looking up at her just yet. “Awake as anyone can be.”

She smiled up at you before fully pushing the door open and entering the room. She had a glass of water and a handful of pill bottles—probably expired, but they have been probably keeping you alive. 

“Any pain?” 

You shook your head, but that was far from the truth. You just didn’t have any pain from the area you got stabbed. You just had lots of heart and head pain. 

“Good. Since you were out for quite some time, your body was able to mostly heal.” You noticed the small bag in her arm and figured it was most likely some more medical supplies.

You gave her a faint smile and turned another page—eyes skimming the small words. “Thank god. You know I can’t stay still for long.”

She chuckled, nodding in agreement. She gave you the pills you needed. You swallowed them down, gulping the fresh water. After handing the water back to her, you looked down at your book again.

She looked over at you, and a smile widened on her lips. “He read that to you every night, you know.”

You blinked, confused. “What?” You dog-eared the book and placed it on the bed next to you. You had somewhat of an idea, but the shock was still evident. “Who?”

Maria smiled and set down a couple of more pills on your bedside table. “It’s some pain medication if you need it.” After you nodded in acknowledgment, she sat down next to you on the bed. “Joel.”

Your eyes widened slightly. She continued, “After Ellie would go to sleep, he would sneak into the house. I told him he didn’t have to do that, but well, you know him.” She knocked her elbow with yours. “He just sat there all night reading that book to you, over and over. He’d come back to our place at around seven in the morning before Ellie woke up.”

She paused, looking right at you. “I know how he is. I know you know more than any of us, but that day? I hadn’t ever seen him like that. He was broken. He muttered under his breath the whole way back that you were gone, and it was his fault. I kept trying to tell him that you still had a steady heartbeat, but he was just—just fully convinced.”

She gave you a watery smile, noticing the tears streaming down your cheeks. You wiped them with the back of your palm and sniffled from a runny nose. 

“Oh, Joel.” You sighed, feeling slightly guilty, but you knew he would hate that. You didn’t know. He specifically chose not to tell you or Ellie anything because that was what he does. He pushes you away because he thinks he doesn’t deserve you or this life you have. Your silly, precious Joel. 

“I’ll leave you to it. Get better, okay? I need my movie-watching friend back.” She pats you lightly on the back before standing up from the bed.

You laughed, nodding in agreement. “Oh, I’m sure it was hell trying to watch Little Women with Tommy.”

She huffed, a hand on the doorknob. “You have no idea.” And with that, she left the room. You stayed there on the bed and tried to dry your tears. 

You felt an ache burst through you. You knew Joel wasn’t telling you everything. You knew it.

There was a part of you that still felt guilty, even though you know you shouldn’t. You just didn’t know what those six weeks felt like as he waited for you. He pleaded every night for you to wake up. Every ten hours after finishing the book, he would ask you all the same. 

You finally had enough of this. It was all his decision to wallow in his own darkness and sorrows—and you were going to put an end to it.

You took the duvet off of your lap and sauntered across the room. Your hand twisted the doorknob, and just as you whipped the door open, you were met with a hard chest. Joel’s hand was fisted, hanging in the middle of the air.

Your eyes widened as you looked up into his deep eyes. “Joel.” You whispered. Tears already started to water against your lash line from the sight of his creased brow and worried gleam in his eyes. 

“Darlin’.” He grunted. His hands clasp gently against your cheeks, and it pulls you forward. His eyes flickered across your face, and his thumb moved to wipe your tears. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have said any of that, okay? I-I just didn’t want to tell you the truth, and I just–I used Brad as an excuse—”

“Joel.” You bit your lip, trying to shake your head, but his hands stopped you. His other thumb moved back and forth in adoration on your cheek. 

“I just–I know I failed you. I know I failed Ellie too. I made you a promise that I would never do that again, and I broke it.” His voice cracked, and he let out a huff of air.

“Joel, you didn’t.” Your hand moved up to his chest, stroking back and forth, and he closed his eyes. “You didn’t fail anyone.”

He shook his head. “I did. I did fail you. When I saw the b-blood that—” He paused at the gut-wrenching memory, “I couldn’t get to you. I-I couldn’t help you, darlin’.”

Your breath hitched. Joel was worried about trying to help you. Not saved—like you were some damsel in distress. Not saved, as in pushing you aside and using his ego like others would. Not rescue you. Not recovering you. He wanted to help you. 

“Oh, Joel.” Your hand goes to cup his cheek, “Look at me. Joel—” His eyes snapped open, and he stared at your breath-takingingly beautiful, teary face. “You did help me.”

He opened his mouth to disagree, but you beat him to it. “You carried me all that way, and no one else could do that. Maria had a broken wrist, Tommy has noodle arms,” Joel lets out a snort, “And we can’t rely on a complete stranger to carry me back home. You did. You helped me more than anyone else in this damn world.”

A sob escaped his lips at your sweet affirmation. Tears cascaded down his cheeks, and he surged your cheeks forward to his, lips desperately pressing against your own.

They swallow you—burning a fire inside of you and your hands gripping his chest so tight that you were afraid he would vanish if you hadn’t. He licks into you, moaning.

“Sunshine.” He said, a smile turning up on his lips. He pressed his own back onto yours, so chaste and tender that it makes your knees buckle. “I’m sorry. I love you.”

His lips moved to your neck, and he whispered that against your skin.“I’m sorry. I love you.” His hands flittered down to your hips and gradually started to move you toward the bed. 

You whispered right back at him. “I’m sorry. I love you.” You could feel his lips curl into a smile on your skin, lips still pressing against the base of your neck and your collarbone. “I’m sorry. I love you.”

He gently laid you down on top of the bouncy mattress, hovering over you. He started to take off his jeans, and you do the same with your sweatpants. He gently unbuttoned his shirt, but his eyes never left yours. In fact, they were boring into you. They were glittering under the dimmed light. They were bursting full of love and worship for everything and everything you. 

He leans over on top of you, and one of his hands gently massages your breast. You wantonly sighed, pressing kisses onto his scruffy gray beard. A hand gently rests on your hip, sparking a hot sensation on your skin. His thumb swipes back and forth, and it takes everything in you not to let tears roll down your face once more. 

“I love you, sunshine.” He said it with such adoration and love that your heart seizes in your chest. His cock slipped into you easily, the arousal from earlier and the dripping now mixed and connected. 

“Joel, I love you—I love you.” He moaned at the clench of your walls. His lips lowered to press soft kisses to your chest. He thrust deep, the head of his cock piercing through you. The sweet contrast of Joel was making you feel dizzy.

He pulled back just a little. He wanted to look at you—he wanted to see you. Your mouth hangs wide open for him, whines and whimpers escaping your throat. “J-Joel! Feels so good, Joel.”

He smiled, “Yeah, Darlin’? Love my cock, don’t you?”

You gasped, preening into him. “Yes! Joel—” He thrusted into hard and his deep, hips brushed up against yours. “F-Fuck, baby—”

“Y’Pussy feels so fuckin’ tight, sunshine.” His lips pressed so gently against your skin, tasting the salt that seeped through. He groaned, hips slapping up and puncturing through you. 

“Joel, I love—love you.” You whined. His hand moved to swirl circles on your clit. You could feel the pressure build and burst through you. 

“Gonna cum, sunshine? Yeah, that’s it. Cum for me. Cum all over my cock.” 

You mewled, and he pushed into you a couple of times before you scream his name. “Joel! Joel, I—I love you, I love you.”

“Fuck, my sweet sunshine—” He grunts, coil snapping on his own and clashing against his abdomen. His cock twitched inside your walls, and he spilled inside of you. 

He pumps you full, while muttering under his breath. “I love you, sunshine. I—fuck—oh—I love you.” You whined his name over and again while he did the same. 

You clutched onto one another, desperate to be as close as possible. His lips pressed against your cheeks, leaving soft and gentle kisses in his path. He moaned as he felt your walls clench once more around him. 

You opened your eyes, flickering over his wrinkled lines and strong nose. You wanted to hold him forever, and he no doubt felt the same. 

After six weeks of pure agony, Joel finally felt whole again. He had you by his side, and he felt so loved by your presence. 

You were glad to be finally awake. The toll of being under for so long definitely affected you and your body. But, you couldn’t be happier than to share a little moment with Joel. Your Joel. 

Finally, after quite a while of enjoying each other's company—pressing soft kisses and caressing each other's skin—you break the silence. “We should probably go tell Ellie we’re okay.”

He nods in agreement, but he makes no sudden movements. “Jus’ five more minutes, darlin’?”

You gave him a big smile. “Yeah. Five more minutes, handsome.”

[thelastofhyde]

spring break.

pairing. joel miller x fem!reader

synopsis. joel miller knows how to take advantage of being tommy's brother- aka he skips out on patrol to fuck you.

warnings. no use of y/n, pwp, established relationship, jackson!joel, teacher!reader, smut ( softdom!joel, unprotected piv, creampie, hair pulling, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, ig a little bit of breath play/suffocation??, implied cum eating/cumplay/cunnilingus )

word count. 841

hyde’s input. have this porn with plot as an apology for the fact i've still not posted chapter three of psecds.

read on ao3.

joel miller is late for patrol.

as a matter of fact, he has no intention of showing up at all. because why on earth would he bother himself with mounting his horse, when he's got his girl spread on all fours?

"see, told ya he'd take a hint eventually."

all of him is warm- his skin on your skin, his breath on your neck. somewhere between your second and fourth orgasm, you've melted into the worn mattress of his bed, face burrowed in the earthy scents of his sweated-out sheets. he's followed you down, the heavy weight of his body the perfect blanket to comfort you from the world beyond joel's bedroom.

"tommy, he's uh- fuckin' christ darling, he's smart like that," he's barely thrusting at this point, hips as aching as the slow pace his pulsing cock ruts into you, each roll forcing your swollen clit to grind down onto the soaked sheets. "'s probably tellin' em all i'm sick or sumn."

and he is sick.

sick in the head, not even flinching as he went from pounding into your sopping cunt- one hand on your hip and the other tangled in your hair, pulling your back into the perfect arch- to shoving your face down and muffling your protests the second tommy's knocking began to ring through the house, too blinded by a hunger-filled lust to see the sense in your encouraging words to go with tommy, do your part for the community.

he'd not meant for things to go so off the rails, honestly. all he'd wanted was a peaceful moment to indulge in the privilege of waking up to you for once. no early patrols stealing him away, none of your teaching duties forcing him to wake up cold and alone. he pulled you closer, tightened his hold around your waist and nuzzled his face deeper into the crook of your neck.

"straight out of heaven, that's what you are," the squelching of your soaking pussy fills the cosy room, remnants of previous orgasms painting a mess between your sweaty, sticky bodies. "my guardian angel, my girl."

but moments like this are so rare as of late. the pair of you hardly get days to yourselves. hell, you barely get any hours to yourselves. between jackson and it's people's incessant need to hold community activities, and ellie running rampant around the house whilst joel's working on making a living space out of the garage for her, and the countless hours of working you both find yourselves caught up in, joel's lucky to get a few desperate moments of "bumpin' uglies" before passing out for the night.

so how could he not seize this opportunity- an ellie-free house for once, a later than usual patrol shift, the school closed for spring break- and get himself tangled up in you, pretty and pliant in your freshly awakened state?

"c'mon, pretty baby," he's a cruel torturer, his gentle coo in your ear contrasting the returning vigour to his thrusts. it's a wonder the windows have yet to fog up. "show me how grateful you are to take this cock and give me one more, yeah? just one, s'all i'm askin'."

just one, a part of you feels like he's lying.

every part of him knows he's lying.

but you do as he asks, always. your toes curl, your breathing stops, your walls flutter and squeeze and cream around his cock for a fifth time. joel fucks you through it, always, soft hands soothing your burning skin. a few deep, brutish thrusts later and he follows suit, warmth filling you as he spills his cum inside you.

searching for air, you twist your neck to the right and free yourself from the mattress below. joel takes this as an invite to plant a wet, sloppy kiss against your cheek, the untrimmed ends of his greying beard scratching your skin just right.

it's blissful, and worth it, even if it means joel's left the team down one pair of hands on the patrol.

joel peels himself off you with a pleasured sigh, your limbs stretching out the aches in your muscles, freed at last from joel's lustful attack.

"make me lunch," you don't bother posing it as a question. he'll do whatever your will is, no questions asked. that's just the kind of man he's become, has always been. "since you're playing hooky at your real job."

he grumbles something behind you, hands soothing over the back of your thighs. his curiousity must get the best of him, trailing those big capable hands of his up to the globes of your ass and stretching them apart. cold air meets your pussy as his cum seeps out your seam, a pearly white slipping down your folds. you wince in discomfort. joel groans in frustration.

"gimme a second, angel," a kiss lands on your spine. a couple more follow right after, traveling lower each time. "gotta get my own fill first."

his tongue is warm as he licks a stripe up your cunt.

[goldstargloww]

canary curse things. thinking about canary curse things

i'm hesitant to say the canary curse has been broken—what, no, of course it has been, jimmy died second instead of first, and the canary curse is all about dying first— okay hear me out i swear i make sense

my thought is that patterns can change. patterns aren't always static ones. just because something new happened this time around doesn't mean the pattern's been broken, it may have just changed its rules a bit.

joel had a pattern of having no true allies up until double or limited life, where it instead became a pattern of being isolated, for example

now, before we get into the canary curse specifically, let's talk about some other patterns

scott and martyn tend to drag themselves as well as their allies up the leaderboard. they both tend to outlive their allies. grian tends to kill his allies. ...i feel like i should put more here but that's all i can think of right now

now, the way i see it, is scott, martyn, and jimmy in particular all have some sort of weight to them. positive meaning they drag themselves and their allies up the leaderboard, negative meaning the opposite. scott and martyn have a positive weight, whereas jimmy has a negative one.

what i think's happened here is that martyn and jimmy's weights have tugged on each other, and as a result, martyn turned yellow and red first instead of much later on, and jimmy died second instead of first.

jimmy's pull is strong, i think, and so he tends to die first every time. just because he tends to die first every time doesn't make that a rule, though - it just makes it a pattern, one that's been broken. the pattern that hasn't been broken, though, is jimmy being one of the earliest to die, and jimmy dragging his allies down the leaderboard with him.

jimmy died first in 3rd life, and dragged scott down to 10th, and scott finally turned yellow right before jimmy died. jimmy died first in last life, and dragged mumbo down with him, and they were a similar color pretty much the whole time. jimmy died first in double life, and dragged tango down with him. jimmy died first in limited life, and joel died quickly after. jimmy died second in secret life, and dragged martyn's color down with him.

martyn, though, doesn't die yet, because of his positive weight. he's often tugged further up the leaderboard, and so while jimmy may drag his color down and martyn ends up first yellow and red, martyn still manages to stay afloat.

martyn is stubborn is the thing, lmao. he stays alive out of spite and just because he wants to, and so he does, and he makes sure he does. now that the stakes are higher and one wrong move could mean losing everything, he's being a lot more careful than he was earlier on.

and let me just reiterate for a second - he's stubborn. once he's got an idea, he's locked onto that idea until he gets it done or literally can't anymore. martyn will drive himself up the wall before he gives up on something and even then he'll need convincing or more likely a distraction. he didn't give up on ren in third life til he died and couldn't do anything anymore. he didn't give up on trying to kill scott in last life til he died and couldn't do anything anymore. he didn't give up on getting a diamond chestplate in secret life until he got it despite how much it cost him in the end. outside the life series, even, i'm rewatching rats right now- martyn will try to climb a wall over and over and over until he gets it or something gets in the way. he'll be texturing a model and complain to chat about how painful it is and still decide to spend the next hour and a half getting the damn thing done even though he should've logged off for bedtime 2 hours ago. (yes martyn i am calling you out, enjoy)

and so martyn doesn't die! he's yellow first, he's red first, and all other red names die, but martyn doesn't. because yeah, maybe he's impulsive, but he's in this for himself and himself alone and there's no way in hell he's dealing with a wither and a warden that's just killed three people. (he did try and steal the kill though. martyn do you remember what happened last time you tried to steal the kill, you fell into the void and died)

jimmy isn't as stubborn. jimmy's a lot more forgiving, a lot more lenient, and as much as he's being more aggressive this season, he's reckless about it and impulsive and his reputation isn't helping him here.

jimmy lets things happen to him. as upset as he might act about it, he never actually does anything about it, and it gets him killed. he's afraid to break the rules, he's afraid to make people uncomfortable or upset or hurt, he starts genuinely tearing up at the thought of pulling a bait and switch on skizz, and that's the kind of thing martyn does on a daily basis lmao

jimmy is forgiving and passive, martyn and scott don't forget so easily and aren't afraid to make people upset, grian's somewhere in between.

[ash5monster01]

Favorite Song

Pairing: Steve Harrington x FemReader

Warnings: angst, mentions of trauma, established relationship, language, loss, S4 spoilers.

Summary: Usually when people break up they don’t have to see each other again but that’s not the case for you and Steve Harrington since the evil that lurked in Hawkins will always tie you together.

word count: 1k

a/n: a short one for my Steve girlies, this idea was too cute not to write. hope you all love it <3

Masterlist

Before you knew about the dangers that lied below your town you always found it weird that Steve and Nancy had still talked. You tried to not let it bother you and it didn’t make sense until you and Steve decided to spend the summer working together in the mall. You quickly learned exactly why they still had to talk. Not many people in this town shared the nightmares that came with the knowledge of evil here in Hawkins. Needless to say you never bothered him about it again.

Funny thing was you never expected it to happen to you. You and Steve had broken up, and you had tried desperately to stop it. Thing was, he couldn’t shake the trauma of everything that happened to him and as a result it was hurting you. Yet now, as the dangers return to your little town, you’re finding yourself in exactly Nancy’s position. Side by side with your ex, trying desperately to fight instead of focusing on the other. You hadn’t really had the chance to talk, too busy making sure Max was safe from Vecna who was actively trying to kill her.

With that knowledge you’re unable to sleep, eyes scanning over each of the kids deep in slumber, scattered across the basement floor. Apparently you are not alone in this either. You can sense Steve is awake across the room. After his scare with Max you figure he won’t sleep again until Vecna is defeated. Until then he’ll be on guard, eyes never leaving any of these kids. They meant everything to him and you knew that.

“What’s your favorite song?” the question surprises you in the silence of the basement. Especially coming from Steve’s raspy voice, the one he always had after not talking for a while.

“Hmm?” you furrow your brows, eyes falling on his form.

“Your song? Just in case” you can hear the fear in his voice. You know this is bothering him. He had probably been spending all day trying to remember each of your favorite songs so you wouldn’t end up hurt like the others. It’s your silence that keeps him rambling.

“I mean now we know Max’s and I know Dustin’s already, anything Madonna will work for Nancy, Lucas told me his already. I just want to know yours, it’ll make me feel better to know yours” your heart aches for him from across the room. You miss him and now as you sit here, trying to get rest before inevitable danger, you want him to see you again even more. Standing from your spot you carefully maneuver yourself around the room to sit beside him. Steve welcomes it as your leg brushes against his own.

“Longest Time, Billy Joel” you tell him softly, trying not to look him in the eyes because he knows that song. It was your song after all. Just like you hadn’t been able to let him go you hadn’t been able to let the song go.

“Really?” his voice is hopeful and you almost feel guilty for bringing it up. You had never wanted to leave Steve but he wasn’t ready to give you his all yet. The exact danger you’re in now proving that. All of this didn’t mean you don’t miss him. You missed him every single day.

“Yeah” you look up to him and he can see it in your eyes. That look of love and the warmth radiating from you stirs something inside of him. He had already lost you but sitting here next to him now it didn’t quite feel like it.

“It’s my favorite too, just in case” he whispers to you and you smile, a soft chuckle falling from your lips.

“Okay Stevie, just in case” you repeat back to him as you grab his hand. His heart rate picks up as you lace his fingers through your own and hold the intertwined hands on your lap.

“I didn’t think it was your favorite anymore” he says and you sigh, your heart aching with love and fear. You know it’s not the song he’s asking about, he’s asking about him.

“You’ll always be my favorite Steve, you just couldn’t love me the way you wanted to” this response tears his heart in two and it isn’t until he is frantically shaking his head you look at him.

“You’re wrong, I love you more than anything else on this earth. I was dealing with my grief but the best way for me to do that was with you” this sentence now breaks your own heart because you had left him when he needed you most. The way his eyes search your own you realize there’s no one else out there for you. It’s always been Steve and you never should’ve left him in the first place.

“I’m sorry” and then you’re kissing him. Kissing him like your whole life depends on it and in a way it does. You two could die tomorrow fighting the monsters of Hawkins but at least you’ll have each other. It’s the way it should be and you know this to be true when he removes his hand from your own to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you into his lap. He was only asking for your favorite song but now he had that and more.

“Please don’t leave me ever again” he breaths hotly against your mouth and you nod, trying to kiss him until your lungs can’t take it anymore. You had so much time to make up for. You hadn’t realized how much you missed him and his touch until now.

“I promise” you tell him and he can only smile against your lips, kissing you as quietly and passionately as he can because he finally had you back. You’d never leave each other again. Vecna or not.

[from-the-clouds]

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

series masterlist | series playlist | writing masterlist | previous chapter | photo cred

chapter summary: This time, it's different. He’s not here to help you fix something, or to drag Sarah home, or pick up something she’s left behind. At this point he’s stopped lying to himself – Joel’s here to see you.  pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader words: 5.6k chapter warnings: some angst, marijuana use, suggestive thoughts and actions (but no smut -- as always, dm if you want specifics), divorce mention. a/n: The next few weeks of my life will be insane (and NOT just because succession is coming back). I want to keep updating this, but something's gotta give, because the way I've been writing is not sustainable unfortunately. So updates may end up being shorter and the fic having more parts, or updates might be less frequent with longer parts. Also, a question for my loyal readers: Do you make your shirley temples with ginger ale or with Sprite/7up? Because I came from a sprite/7UP family but once i discovered ginger ale instead i was HOOKED. So i am a Ginger Ale Shirley Temple Truther.

-May 5, 2003-

Please pick up, please pick up, you cross your arms in front of you, looking over your shoulder. The pointed toe of your heels clacks against the asphalt as you tap it repeatedly, a steady beat. You have no reason to be so nervous, right now. It must have something to do with who you are calling, not just why. 

“Hello?” the droning ring is interrupted by a voice that sounds skeptical, they don’t recognize your number.

“Joel?” you ask.

“Hey, you,” his tone evens out when he hears you say his name. He had given you his cell phone number a few weeks back, the night he’d caught you smoking on your back porch. In case I’m not home and something’s goin’ on with Sarah, he’d said. It made sense, though all it did was tempt you to call him many times before this, and not about Sarah. You were worried because…maybe this was out of line.

There’s noises in the background that threaten to drown Joel out – saws and various power tools whirring, a jackhammer, men calling out to each other. It’s loud. At your job, you close the door to your office if someone is typing too loud on their keyboard. “I uh- I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

You hear a door shut in response, and the noise fades to a low purr. “Not at all. Everything okay? Sarah alright?”

“Yeah, this isn’t about her, though. I hope that’s okay.”

“It depends,” In your mind, right now he’s leaning against a messy metal desk, one of his hands planted on its surface to keep himself stable, the muscles in his forearm flexing under tension. He’s got a toolbelt slung low over the waistband of his Carhartt’s. He’s a little sweaty – it’s hot out, today – his cheeks flushed, pieces of dark hair clinging to his forehead. The image is doing something for you, and you have to take a deep, measured breath to reset before you can answer him.

“Do you…know anything about cars?” you ask. 

“A little….why?”

“I took my car to get serviced, and…I’m pretty sure I’m about to be swindled.” You hesitate, then qualify. “I didn’t have anyone else to call, and…you seem like you might be good with this sort of thing.”

There are a lot of things you know a lot about, and cars are just not one of them. From your perspective, a car is simply a means to get from Point A to Point B, and the less you know about the how, the better. Although your complete lack of understanding definitely doesn’t help you in your current situation. You’d considered calling your brother, and even your father – but you knew they’d be no help, having lived in Manhattan their whole lives. 

Bradley had a nice car, but you suspected it was more for his image, and less because he knew anything about them. Plus, you didn’t really ask for much of each other outside of sex – and if you started too, it might initiate another talk about where you ‘see him in your future’, and the thought alone is grating, because you don’t. 

Since you moved away from home, you’ve spent a lot of time asserting to yourself that you’re completely independent. But moments like this remind you that it’s not entirely true…it’s not possible to be on your own in the way you want, and you always end up needing someone. 

“I might be able to help.” Joel sounds unconcerned. “What’s goin’ on?”

“They just told me my car needs a new battery, and I need new tires.”

“How old are they?”

“I don’t know like-” your phone vibrates furiously in your hand, an incoming call from your coworker. “Oh my god, leave me alone,” you groan out loud. “-Not you, Joel, sorry. I stepped away for lunch and…you know how it goes. Anyways, I don’t think I’ve gotten either of them changed since I got my car.”

“How old is your car?”

“Seven years.”

“Good lord,” Joel mutters, and he sounds somewhat disappointed. “Yeah, you should get both those things.”

“They weren’t lying? It’s gonna cost a couple hundred bucks.”

“No, I doubt they were,” he gives a warm chuckle, and it melts away some of your stress, even if your wallet is about to take a considerable hit. “Where’d you take your car?”

“I don’t know, just…some place around the corner from where I work.”

“In the future, you should go to Robert’s place in town. He’s done some work on my truck. Probably will cost a lot less.”

“Noted,” you nod. “Thanks so much, sorry for catching you at work.”

“Not at all, I don’t mind…” Joe answers. “Shipments keep getting delayed, so…it’s been kind of a slow day.”

“I’m jealous,” you say. “Because I swear, lately, whenever I leave the office for more than two minutes everything explodes….or at least it feels that way.”

“Sounds like you’re important,” Joel says, you can hear his smile over the phone, see it, practically. 

Scoffing, you answer. “Hardly. But uh, thanks again. I definitely owe you one.”

You expect him to say goodbye, so you’re surprised by what he asks next. “What are you doing Friday?” 

“I don’t know. What are you doing Friday?”

“I’m assumin’ Sarah’s probably left something at your place….if you’re gonna be around, I might stop by to get it….”

“You want me to smoke you up?” 

“That’s not what I said.”

“But it’s what you meant,” You’re direct.

“Look, I’m just sayin’ if it happens, I wouldn’t be mad.”

“I already told you, you’re welcome anytime,” you say. “But won’t Sarah-oh wait, no, she has that school dance, doesn’t she?”

Sarah had taken to writing important events in her life on the calendar that hung on your fridge. It was usually blank, you were good enough at remembering your own plans without utilizing it. But she had told you the empty calendar made her sad, so now it was filled with her doodles and notes, scribbled with blue glitter gel pen. And Friday night’s event she’d underlined three times.

“She does,” Joel answers, seemingly amused. 

Another call comes through on your phone. “Okay, yeah, I gotta go. But I’ll be around Friday.”

“Then maybe I’ll stop by,” Joel says, and you ignore the flash of heat through your abdomen – excitement – at the idea of him coming over.  “Have a good rest of your day.”

“You too.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

-May 9, 2003-

Joel arrives at your place before the sun sets, once again. But this time, it is different. He’s not here to help you fix something, or to drag Sarah home, or pick up something she’s left behind. Of course, he’s got his excuse, but really, at this point he’s stopped lying to himself – he’s here to see you. 

“Well, well, well…” you open the screen door, lean against the doorframe, and cross your arms over your chest. “If it isn’t the neighborhood space cowboy.”

“You’re one to talk.” 

You squint at him, but the way the corner of your mouth quirks gives you away. “Touche.” 

God, he’s already regretting this. Maybe he shouldn’t be here. But it’s become increasingly difficult to resist you, and that’s assuming that you’re even interested. He’s all-but kissed you and he’s still not quite sure where he stands. You’re not easy to read, but he has always enjoyed a challenge. At the end of the day it’s never a bad idea for him to brush up on his flirting, Tommy’s words from a few weeks ago have been getting to him. For much as he believes it’s bound to happen, Joel doesn’t want to end up alone.

“Come on in,” you push yourself off the doorframe and lead him through your house.

The last time he’d been here you’d been wearing some long-sleeved, satin pajama set. He remembered because he spent all night trying not to touch the fabric, though maybe he was just looking for an excuse to touch you. Tonight, with your back turned towards him, his eyes wander down to the curve of your ass in your low-rise, bootcut jeans. He feels the slightest bit of shame about doing it, before deciding that what you can’t see won’t hurt you.

“How was the mechanic?” he asks once you’ve entered the back porch.

“Oh fine,” you say, sitting down on the couch, gesturing to the spot across from you. “I’m just pissed I had to spend a bunch of money on a car battery and not something more…fun.”

“It’s a good thing you did,” Joel sits. “Honestly, I’m surprised you called me from the mechanic and not from a ditch on the side of the road.”

“This is my first car, Joel. I grew up in a walkable community,” you pick up an already-rolled joint, the faintest acknowledgement that you’d planned for this ahead of time – and lift it to your lips. 

“It’s okay, I’m teasing.” Joel assures, and lets his gaze linger while you smoke, just admiring, as he often does. When you pass the joint over to him, he speaks again. “I have to be good tonight, cause Sarah’s gonna be home in a couple hours.”

“Yeah, first school dance, big deal,” you raise your eyebrows. “Help me out, because I went to an all-girls school. It’s middle school. Do kids go with dates?”

Joel shakes his head. “Not that I know of. Sarah just went with a group of friends.” 

“That makes sense,” you nod. “Speaking of, I have to be good, too. I’m going to her soccer game tomorrow.”

Joel feels his brows knit together in confusion, and it causes you to continue on. “She keeps asking me to come to one, and I haven’t been able to, so I feel bad. I guess her season’s almost over.” 

“Tomorrow’s her last game…” Joel mutters, looking up towards the ceiling, where the smoke is collecting, and exhales. “But you know you don’t have to do that.”

“Obviously, but…” you shrug. “...I want to.”

He chuckles to himself, runs a hand through his hair, which is still damp from the shower he took before this. “You’re really prepared to put yourself through a middle school soccer game…” 

“Look, Joel,” Your eyes are half-lidded, focused on him, and your arm is slung over the back of the couch, fist supporting your temple. “In case you couldn’t tell…I’m doing this thing where I try to engage in the community I live in. But so far, your family members are the only ones who’ve included me in anything, so until I find someone else….” you trail off. “You’re stuck with me.”

Joel doesn’t want you to find someone else. Being stuck with you is hardly a problem. He wants to tell you, but instead, all he manages is: “We’ll be good tonight.” Still, he’s not entirely convinced that he can trust himself to make a promise like that. 

It’s a tad too early for the sun to be setting, but it’s early in May, so the weather is perfect, and he’s sort of itching to be outside. Maybe there’s something to be done before the light wanes. “Do you want to go for a walk?” he asks you.

You seem taken aback by his request, wrinkling your nose.”….I don’t know.”

“It’s a nice night, you might enjoy yourself. And we’re in good company.” 

The grimace on your face disappears, and is replaced by something more amiable. “We are,” you tilt your, make a decision. “Yeah, okay…let’s do it.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Once you’ve locked your front door, closed your windows, Joel walks side-by-side with you down your driveway. You only make it about halfway down when you’re both interrupted by the sound of someone calling out your name, then his. 

Your next-door neighbor, Denise Watson, leans over the railing of her front porch, while her husband John sits in a chair behind her, giving a lazy wave and returning back to his puzzlebook. Joel nods at him, and notices the color has drained out of your face. The Watsons have lived on this street since before even Joel and Sarah moved in. They’re in their late 60s, retired, all their children grown – which gives them plenty of time to get into everyone’s business. 

“Hey,” you offer the most unenthusiastic greeting he thinks he’s ever heard. You’re paranoid, and he’d laugh if it were just the two of you, alone. But it’s not, and he knows these just so happen to be neighbors you’ve been lying to.

“How are you doing, hun?” 

“I’m good,” you say softly, and Joel watches Denise’s eyes flick over his direction. 

“Same here,” he manages. 

“What are you ya’ll up to?”

“We’re just goin’ for a walk,” Joel answers, looking your way. You nod at him, wordlessly, then at Denise. 

“How lovely.” She smiles, and it’s sincere, so he knows she doesn’t suspect anything. “It’s nice to see you two getting along so well.” Even from where he’s standing, Joel sees her eyebrows lift suggestively.

You and Joel both answer the insinuation at the same time.

“Yeah, well-” 

“She looks after Sarah for me, so-”

You bob your head enthusiastically. “Mhm, yeah. Sarah. Great kid.”

Denise opens her mouth again, and you speak so quickly, Joel’s pretty sure it’s because you’re afraid of what she’s going to say next. “We gotta go,” you shuffle backwards a few steps, quickly, and collide with Joel’s chest. “Before it gets dark out,” when you turn, you’re looking up at him with wide, terrified eyes. 

“Oh, alright,” Denise says, sounding a little disappointed. “Ya’ll stay safe, alright?”

“Of course,” Joel calls over his shoulder, managing a halfhearted wave before he’s trailing you around the bend in the cul-de-sac that takes you out of view from The Watsons porch.

The second you’ve made it you whirl to face him, your jaw drops, and you both erupt into laughter. You grip his bicep and lean into him, pressing your face into the cotton of his t-shirt to stifle the noise. He’s tempted to pull you under his arm all the way, but he resists the urge. Would that be okay? He’s not sure. And he’s not necessarily in the best headspace to make the decision.

“Oh my god,” you murmur, swiping under your eyes as you pull back, and start walking a few steps ahead of him. 

“It’s like I’m back in high school,” Joel says. Neither of you decide to mention what your neighbor had insinuated, but it is objectively funny. 

“Oh, I’m sure you were trouble.”

“Not as much as you’d think,” Joel says. “Although I did sneak out quite a bit. But it was only to see girls – well, one girl.” 

“Sarah’s mom?” you ask. 

“Yeah.” Joel isn’t sure why he’s mentioned it. It’s not really something he’s interested in speaking on now – or ever – for that matter, even if every person he’s mentioned it to has questions. What happened? What did you do? You poor thing. Above all else, he hated being pitied. 

But you don’t press him, and change the subject. “So…a few weeks ago you had said you and Tommy had a work project you were gonna book. Did that pan out?”

Joel cocks his head, surprised you remembered. “Actually, it did. Funny you ask. Things moved slow but…we signed the contract today. I’m sort of celebrating.”

“Congratulations,” you look over your shoulder slightly to give him a genuine grin. “But uh…you should’ve told me. Had I known we were celebrating, I would’ve tried to make things more exciting.” 

“Can’t think of anything better.”

You pause, because you’ve reached the end of your cul-de-sac. “Suit yourself.” you say. “Are you gonna lead though? I don’t know where we’re going.”

“Yeah, that’s kind of the point.” Joel expects some kind of quip in response, but you just shake your head and narrow your eyes. Tucking your hair behind your ears, he senses a bit of uneasiness. “You alright?”

“I’m fine I just…” you shake your head. “I don’t love being stoned in public.”

“You’re alright.” Joel puts his hand between your shoulder blades, guiding you to fall into step beside him. “Come on, darlin’, just walk with me.” It’s terrible how easily the term of endearment slips out – and he waits for your reaction. But all he feels is the way your body loosens under his touch. 

That brings him some satisfaction, but as usual, it’s not enough. Because if you’re not going to stop him, he longs to push the hair off your neck, kiss along your pulse point, feel you melt even further as his thumbs work at the muscles in your shoulders. Joel fantasizes about what his name might sound like, coming from you, in a breathless sigh. The image works him up a little too much, and he lets his hand fall back to his side.

For a while, you both walk in silence, your fingers brushing against his every so often, but neither of you acknowledge it, apologize, or decide to step further away from each other to keep it from happening again and again.

It’s a beautiful night, the warmth of the day dwindling under the blanket of thinning clouds tinted pink in the sunset. Joel is amazed at how content he feels, can’t remember the last time he’s felt this way – not worried about someone, or something, or letting anyone down. 

It’s May, so almost all the native flowers are in full bloom. Tulips planted in gardens, pansies overflowing from pots on porches, dandelions dotting pristine green lawns. Stepping away from Joel, you pause in front of an empty, overgrown lot that’s basically turned into a wildflower patch. 

“This is nice,” you say, decidedly. “It’s pretty.” 

“I told you.”

Once more, he expects some clever retort, but your eyebrows are pinched together, and you crouch to look closely at some bluebonnets that are the same color as the tight-fitting henley you’ve got on. “I know you mentioned it back there but… Sarah’s told me…about her mom.”

Joel feels himself stiffen. “Yeah….well, she never really got to know her.” 

When he’s feeling particularly remorseful, his brain replays a memory of Sarah, only four years old, toddling around the tiny apartment they lived in and calling out for her mother. His ex had left when she was so young, so he had known there was no way Sarah actually remembered her. But all her classmates had two parents, all the movies she watched at home depicted loving, complete families. That night, after tucking her in, he’d retreated to his room, and cried for the first time since his divorce. Ever since then, it was impossible to shake the feeling he wouldn’t be enough.

Sometimes, he felt better about it then others. Sarah grew out of that phase, and Joel thought that’d be the last of it. When he finally bought the house, he felt like he’d proven he could do it alone. They would be fine. That was until Joel found an old photo of him and his ex underneath Sarah’s pillow while he was changing her sheets. The discovery left him with the same feeling all over again. 

Now, in the wake of the excitement that he’s signed onto his first real contracting gig, a promotion, a raise – this information from you deflates him all over again. 

“You don’t like to talk about it?” you guess correctly. 

“Not particularly.” Normally, Joel would shut something like this down. But he can’t bring himself to be cruel to you. “We were young. What happened was for the best. I wish Sarah understood that.”

“You don’t give her enough credit. She’s a bright kid,” you answer, standing up and putting your hands on your hips. “Anyways, I get it. When you cut yourself off from a bad situation, it's hard. The alternative is worse, though. People forget that part.”

Joel feels a little reassured by what you’re saying. Why he immediately went on the defense when you brought it up, he’ll explore later. “I wish more people understood,” he murmurs. 

“Me too,” you nod, and you nudge him gently to keep walking. “And people process things differently. It makes sense she's curious. It’s a very human thing.” 

“I know.” What was it that you had said a few weeks back? They’re always with you, no matter what. That’s not a sentiment Joel can completely wrap his head around yet. “It does make me think sometimes…maybe she needs some else….someone who isn't…me.””

“Oh, come on, Joel,” you halt in your tracks, almost like he’s offended you in some way. You look up at him from under your eyelashes. “You’re a good man.”

Validation. He doesn’t get it often – ever, really. And he doesn’t need it, but….coming from you, he feels like he just wants more. And more. He can think of a few ways he might get it, too. Some less innocent than others. 

“Should we turn around?” he asks. You nod. 

There’s a bit of light still remaining in the sky by the time you round the corner to Joel’s street, but the sun has set long ago. He’s probably supposed to say goodbye, standing at the end of your respective driveways, but he finds that end to the evening rather disappointing. 

“You know what I can’t stop thinking about right now?” you ask, Joel. He’s a little hesitant to answer, based on the ornery glint in your eyes. All he has to do is raise his eyebrows, and you continue. “A shirley temple.”

Joel can’t help but laugh, and he sees how you light up at the sound. “You serious?” he asks. 

“I know they’re….for kids, but…I don’t know. They’re really fucking good.”

“They are,” he answers, and you’re at the end of your driveway. He hesitates for a second, thinks you might say goodbye, but you just check over your shoulder to make sure he’s following you. He does. 

“This is probably the weed talking, but I’m going to make some.” You unlock your front door, and he holds it open to let you step inside, before following. 

“You have the stuff to make them?” he questions. 

Yes, you bob your head, then walk to the corner of your front room and flick on a light. Warm light floods the room, and you walk through the archway into your kitchen. When he follows you there, your back is towards him, opening a glass-doored cabinet containing various liquor bottles, wines, cordials, and accoutrements. 

“You want one? I have to say, I’ve been making them a lot lately, and I think I’ve perfected the recipe.”

“Well in that case, I’ve gotta try,” Joel wanders to your small kitchen table, about a quarter of it covered in neat piles of paperwork. There’s a messenger bag slung over the back of a chair, and in front of it is there’s a thick contract. The page it’s opened to is riddled with blue ink, crossing through sentences, scribbled in the paper’s margins. He can’t make out any of the jargon in the fine print. Next to it sits a pair of thin black reading glasses, and a sleek fountain pen engraved with your name. 

His eyes fall next to a stack of old photographs sitting atop an opened envelope. With two fingers, he pushes the top photo off the stack, once, twice, three times, until he gets to the bottom of the pile, and they’re spread out in front of him. Maybe he shouldn’t be snooping like this, but his curiosity is getting the best of him. 

Joel doesn’t recognize the people in most of the photos. One of them is a school photo of a young boy, with Spring ‘03 printed in the lower right hand corner. But the remaining two…he realizes are of you, but you’re young, your cheeks rounder, features not quite as defined. Younger than Sarah, if he had to guess. In both, you’re wearing the same thing – a black turtleneck, a plaid skirt that hangs past your knees, and black Mary Janes. 

In one, you’re cheek to cheek with a teenage boy who you’re giving bunny ears. Your brother. Has to be. You look too similar. His arm is across your shoulders, and you’re smiling so wide your eyes are closed. 

In the other photo, though, your face is blank. A wide, empty stare, straight into the camera. Behind you, his hands on your shoulders, is an older man whose gaze has the same determined set Joel has seen on you before. Something about the photo, the haunted look on your face, makes him feel like he’s seen something he’s not supposed to, and he slides the print underneath a stack of papers.

“If you’re gonna look at those papers, I’m gonna need you to sign an NDA,” you say over his shoulder, and Joel is startled by the sound of your voice, and the feeling of a glass, cold and damp with condensation, being placed in his hand. “Here.”

You peer around his shoulder, face brushing against the side of his arm as you see the photos. “Oh,” your voice drops slightly when you realize what he’s looking at. “My brother sent those. That’s my nephew, Ethan.” You point to the school photo of the little kid, but don’t offer an explanation for any of the others. 

Joel clinks his glass with yours and notices that you’ve balanced a toothpick with two maraschino cherries on its rim. It’s refreshing, delicious, and the fizz tickles his nose as he takes the first sip. 

“Restaurant quality,” he tells you. You lean back against your counter, studying him. When you stare at him like this, as he’s caught you doing a handful of times before, it always makes him feel feral. Like some kind of animal, the way he has to hold himself back from pouncing. You look at him like there’s no one else around, and yeah, there’s no one else around right now, but even when you’re in public, you’ve done it, too. And he doesn’t know how to tell you to stop – he doesn’t really want to. “How’d you perfect the recipe?” he asks. 

“Practice,” you glance at the bubbles dancing through the ice in your glass before focusing back on him, sheepish. “Sarah likes them.”

So you’ve made them for her. Joel sits his drink down. “She does.” 

“Are you hungry?” you ask. “I think I need a snack or something.”

“You don’t have any ice cream, do you?”

“Uhhh…check the freezer?” you say over your shoulder, rummaging through your cabinets for a bowl, and Joel rises to do so. “I think I only have coffee-flavored, though.”

“Good choice,” he answers. His favorite.When he opens the freezer, he’s met with a blast of cool air, a cloud of steam. 

“You have a sweet tooth, don’t you?” you tease, coming to stand next to him, but Joel is too focused on the box of orange popsicles he sees in front of him, and pulls them out to look at the box. “You like these?”

“Not really. I’m partial to cherry.”

“Sarah loves these,” he remarks. 

“Yeah.” 

“I don’t buy them for her anymore, because one time she ate twelve in one day.”

You sniff, grin. “She told me that.”

He studies the drink that you’ve set on your countertop, the box in his hand. “So you bought these for her?”

“Yeah, why?” you cross your arms, almost defensively.

“Are any of the other snacks here just for her?”

“...No,” he can tell you’re lying, and your eyes flick over his shoulder for a second. “Don’t look in that cabinet, though.” 

Joel can’t help the incredulous smile that breaks out over his face. “God, no wonder she’s always over here so much. You’re givin’ her all the junk I don’t let her eat, aren’t you?”

You hold your hands up. “I think she deserves to be comfortable here. Do you want her to starve?”

Joel’s sure he’s staring at you slack-jawed. Not because he’s upset with you, no. It’s quite the opposite. He shakes his head, grins, and starts laughing.

“Don’t laugh at me,” but you’re giggling, too. “It’s not funny.” You reach to swat at him playfully, and something inside him snaps. 

Joel is sick of coming up with excuses to see you. He’s sick of holding you at arms length. He’s sick of not taking what he wants to. He’s sick of pretending he hasn’t thought about you every single day since he first saw you, standing in this very kitchen, leaning over the island and chatting with Sarah. He wants to walk in your front door and know that he can have you however he likes, that he’s allowed to. He realizes if he doesn’t act, he’ll never find out. It’ll eat him alive.

So before you can make contact, he wraps his hand around your wrist, draws you in closer. It catches you off guard, sure, but your eyes are locked, and he sees that you’re not shaken in the slightest.

“You know,” he says. “You’re nicer than you think.” 

The energy in the room has shifted. But it doesn’t seem to phase you, and when he’s this close, he can study every freckle on your face, the color of your eyes – can remind himself, again, though he hardly has to – just how beautiful you are. You lower your arm, and at first – he panics, thinks that you might be pulling away. He’s read it wrong, all wrong. But all your doing is giving yourself a better angle to grip his wrist in kind, hand clasping over his broken watch.

“Keep it to yourself, Joel.” you whisper. And it's supposed to be a joke, but you can't seem to tear your gaze off his lips. “I have a reputation to uphold.”

“I will.” 

Joel kisses you. Hard. It’s like a dam breaking, every time he’s held himself back from you comes barreling forward, and it’s all right there. Everywhere. Overwhelming. But he can't stop. He moves with purpose, cupping your chin. He winds his other arm around your waist, crushing you against him. You taste sweeter than he’d imagined, cherry-flavored syrup lingering on your lips. You groan against him, your head tilting back as he moves in closer, jaw relaxing, lips parting.

It’s just enough for him to slip his tongue inside your mouth, to continue to explore, to claim. The things he’s going to do to you…It could be the weed, but every nerve in his body is on high alert – his skin scorches in the wake of your hands raking up his biceps, tangling in his unruly waves. It could be the weed, or it could just be that good.

More, he wants more, and he’s crowding you back towards the counter next to the fridge. Somewhere, distantly, he hears the freezer door fall closed – and probably not all the way – the ice cream long since forgotten. The moment your back hits the granite, you pull away with a ragged inhale, only enough to look him in the eyes.

“Took you long enough,” One of your hands rises to his face.

Joel presses his cheek into the warmth of your palm. “I thought it might be better to keep you waiting.”

You only shake your head, pulling him back into the kiss. He shifts his weight to hook his hands behind your knees and lift you onto the counter. It’s a bit overzealous, and your head bumps the cabinet behind you, but you don’t seem to notice. Both your legs hook around his hips, drawing him in further. He doesn’t think he’s ever been so turned on just from kissing someone – not even for that long – but it’s just so fucking hot. You’re so fucking hot. 

But, he’s capable of one rational thought. This can’t be how it happens. You’re worth more than an animalistic fuck on a kitchen countertop. There’s so much more he wants to do that can’t be done here, like this. And…it’s you. You deserve better, although the frustrated noise you let out when he draws back indicates you think the opposite. Another time.

“I’m sor-I-we can’t,” Joel manages. 

Your face drops, you look….almost angry at him. The second he sees it, he realizes what he said was all wrong. “No, I mean we can, we can, just not….not now.”

The anger dissipates, you shift back, but reach out, pushing a piece of stray hair off his forehead and running your thumb along his sharp jawline. “Why not?”

“I just…I didn’t-” he shakes his head and looks down. “I’ve wanted this for awhile now, but….this isn’t…I wasn’t expecting-” Fucking spit it out, you dipshit. “Can I take you out or something first?” 

You don’t answer, just shift forward, your forehead bumping into his chest. Joel he brings his arms around your shoulders despite himself. And then your lips are on his neck, teeth scraping, teasing, working up to his ear, where you whisper. “You don’t have to.”

He fucking has you. He could. So easily. “I want to.”

You pull back, and there’s a split second where he swears you look a little ashamed, and then it vanishes. “You are a romantic.”

“Not entirely…” Joel says. “I just…would rather do things right. For someone I like.”

“Someone you like?”

“Yes.” Obviously. 

“Okay, yeah,” you murmur softly. “I would like that.” 

“Next weekend?” 

“That long?” 

He chuckles. “It’ll be worth the wait.” But you don’t seem convinced. “I promise.”

For a split second his eyes flick over your shoulder to the microwave, and he sees what time it is. “Shit. Shit. I’m sorry. It’s late. Sarah’s gonna be home any minute and if I’m not home-” he pauses, gestures between you. “We shouldn’t uh…we shouldn’t mention this to her. Not for now, at least.” 

“Yeah, I wasn’t planning on it,” you shake your head in agreement. 

Joel leans in to kiss you again. This time, he keeps it slow, tender, lingering. Even though he knows he’ll get to see you again, he still finds it hard to tear himself away.

----

part v

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[annie-creates]

Finally home

Pairing: Abby Anderson x reader

Genre: fluff

Words: 1400

Note: So this is my 30th fic and it's also the first day of spring so I wanted to put out this little thing that's been living in my head rent free lately. It is far from the fandoms I normally write for but here we are. I'm warning you the events of the game are kinda switched around to fit the story. I hope you'll like it anyway.

Life hasn’t been easy on you. From the moment your mother sent you to a Firefly base when you were still just a child, you had to fight and fend for yourself. Earning everything you had, contributing to be fed, helping to have a place to sleep, growing up has been tough. And still you could thank heavens you were placed with the Fireflies who protected you and took care of you in the apocalypse. You imagined the worst thing that could happen to someone was to be left alone. You had friends amongst the other children, adults who brought you up, and Abby.

Abby was never too close nor too far from you, having closer friends but always keeping an eye out for you. You were inseparable back in the Salt Lake City, and even when your group disbanded, you followed her anywhere she wanted to go, your next refuge being the WLFs. You never questioned her, never doubted her decisions. Not until she killed Joel Miller. You understood, Abby’s dad being the closest thing you had to your own, but even after she leveled the score, the hunger for revenge didn’t settle. The more ruthless she became the more you drifted apart.

All the tension or fondness was lost in the days and weeks she spent away hunting down members of Ellie’s group. If you were once friends, now you were hardly two people who used to know each other. Yet you never lost your hope in her, believing she’ll come to her senses and actually live her life focused on herself and not the blood of others. The rumors of Fireflies regrouping gave you hope. You’d finally find a home again together.

“Abby please, fuck this WLF shit and let’s just go back.” You reasoned with her, when you met by luck after another few months not hearing from each other.

“I still have shit to do here.” She argued unwavering in her stance.

“Like what? We both know Isaac’s plan is trash.” You furrowed your brows at her.

“Just because you’re not at the top of the game doesn’t mean everyone else is dumber than you Y/n.” She scoffed at you.

“Excuse me, I don’t give a shit what ranking he gave to anyone!” You folded you hands over your chest.

“Yeah yeah, just because you’re low. Don’t pretend you wouldn’t like being a commander.” She taunts you.

“Now you’re just being mean. You know I don’t give a fuck about that.” You weren’t going to let her off that easily this time.

“You’re just jealous. Go run back to the Fireflies where you’re cared for like the lost puppy you are and leave the real job to the big girls.” She levels you with a look of cruelty and disdain.

“Fine. But don’t run back to me when you get lost again.” Shaking your head you leave to pack your backpack so you can have a head start for when the WLF finds out you’re a traitor.

You didn’t give a shit anymore for any one of them, you didn’t want to join any petty fights for territory of supplies. You wanted to live as close to a normal person as anyone could and maybe, just maybe try and help save the world somehow, or make it just a little bit better. You couldn’t do that at the WLF, but with the Fireflies you could at least try. They weren’t saints, but in comparison to the WLF and Seraphites they were your safest option. Maybe it was finally time to let Abby go her way after the countless times you tried to save her from the fate she was choosing for herself.

As you’re packing to leave, you hear Abby in an argument with Mel. You didn’t want to eavesdrop, but you simply couldn’t help yourself. “You’re a piece of shit, Abby.” Is all you can make out before Mel slams the door and you leave in fear of being discovered watching their moment. You didn’t agree, but you couldn’t argue against it either. The more time passed on the more questionable choices Abby was making. The last thing you wanted to do was abandon Abby, yet that’s what she was continuously forcing you to do. Maybe you needed to listen to your own advice and start focusing on your own life instead of others.

While she runs off to do god knows what with god knows who, you travel to the Catalina Island alone. It was a loose thread, but it was still a better shot than nothing. Plus it wasn’t like you could turn back and crawl back to the WLF begging for their forgiveness, if there even was any WLF anymore. And to your luck, the Fireflies excitedly accept you back, happy to regain one of Anderson’s medical students you used to be back in Salt Lake City before your mission to save the population and find a cure went to trash. For months you watched out for any rumors of tracks of Abby but all the leads run cold. The group couldn’t contact her even when she made a contact with them some time after you joined, promising to arrive in a few days. But few days turned into months and Abby Anderson was considered lost and dead, even though no one talked about it or mentioned it.

Until you found her. She and one of the new boys she met, Lev, in a boat arrived at the island in a pitiful state of barely living. Being part of the medical team now, you treated their injuries and took care of nursing them back to health. While you left Lev to be watched over by the team, you couldn’t stand leaving Abby in such cold and unwelcoming place unknown to her. So you took her to rest in your own apartment not too far away, laying her down on your washed out pillows but in warm sheets and clean duvets none the less.

“Y/n.” She states with a horse voice she clearly hasn’t used for some time.

“Shh, it’s okay. I’ve got you now.” You assure her cleaning her bleeding wounds.

As she falls back into her delirious dreams you treat her injuries dressing them up in a clean white gauze, finding many new cuts and bruises, some of which you could hardly imagine what caused them. Even her face was littered with wounds deep enough to leave a nasty scar. She lost a noticeable amount of muscle and her once toned arms seemed weaker now cover in blood. Her dirty blonde hair you often braided for her were messily cut off too short and covered in layers of dirt and soil.

“Hey, you need to drink something.” You carefully wake her up to get her started back on some fluids as soon as possible.

“Hmh...” She clearly wanted to say something but she hardly had the energy to even stay conscious.

“Don’t, it’s gonna be okay. Everything’s going to be okay.” You pacify her after you half force some water into her.

“Don’t leave!” She catches your arm weakly with the most scared and vulnerable look you’ve ever seen on her.

“I won’t.” you assure her as you lay down in bed next to her, careful not to touch any of her wounds to not cause her any more discomfort or pain.

“Just hold me.” Abby pleads with you, but she didn’t have to ask you twice.

“I’ve got you. You’ll be okay.” You comfort her as you stroke her short hair and hold her shivering shoulders. “Everything is going to be fine.”

“I’m sorry.” Abby whines halfway unconscious again.

“Don’t be. You’re home. You are cared for.” You whisper to her as you rock her weakened body back to sleep.

You give her a little kiss into the crown of her hair. She was still the most beautiful and precious thing to you, no matter her crimes and punishments. It will grow back eventually. Her injuries will heal, and all of this will become just a faded memory over time. You’ll help her fight off any scarecrows and demons of her past, in her dreams and in the reality. She was finally back, and you won’t ever let her leave again. You both already lost too much in your hunt for revenge and justice. You finally found your home.

[pedge-page]

Joel Miller x F!Reader - Piss Kink #4

if you're feeling bold, can be read with more Piss kink #1, #2, #3, or alone.

Summary: Joel entices you home with a uniquely fun hommade toy that he's been edging himself with.

Warnings: pisskink! , pill-filled condom, sending nudes ish, nipple play, sub!Joel returns!, male masturbation, mirror masturbation, assisted masturbation, overstimulation, degrading lanauge towards Joel, this one is all about Joel

18+ ONLY

- - - -

Work fucking sucks when you’re horny as shit.

While you rot away at a desk 5 days a week, from 9-5 with limited days off, you get a bit envious of Joel’s flexible schedule where he can pick his own contracts, his own projects, and work his own hours at his own fee.

Must be nice to be a solid brick wall of meat.

And he doesn’t make it any better. Having your phone buzz off at your desk literally every 5 seconds with pictures of his scruffy head waking up at 9:57am, his homemade sausage links and pancakes, his feet propped up on the coffee table while sipping away your coffee in your mug that you forgot because you were running late!

You: Fuck off, lazy ass

Joel: come home and I’ll fuck your ass all day :P

You: do you have any real plans today other than being a little shit?

There’s 15 minutes of silence from his end. Enough that you’re pretty far into a project you couldn’t get off the ground, until there’s a new chime vibrating from your phone. 

Joel: video attachment

You bite your lips, hovering over the file icon. This could be just another “Joel enjoying his day off” …

or a “Joel enjoying his day off.”

Not risking it, you run to the bathroom and lock yourself in the stall.

The video plays, and you can make out Joel’s big fat blurry fingers blocking half the camera as he angles the phone on the sink vanity, facing himself in the mirror focus sense. He backs away, and unzips his jeans. His cock is only half hard, but that doesn’t deter him from pumping it lazily in his hand, digging in the drawer off camera looking for something.

It’s not until he’s ripping off a condom with his teeth that you’re very intrigued. 

“Got a present for ya when you come home,” he smirks into the camera.

He rolls the plastic over his much harder cock now, pulling it tight all the way to the base, stretching it over his thick length.

Joel’s not one to use condoms, so this is—new.

He’s breathing hard, chest rising and falling as he pumps his dick with short jerks. His thumb teases over the clear covered tip. there’s some sweet little noises you know you’re missing because the mic doesn’t pick it up, but by the way his brows furrow, his lips part with eyes closed, you know he’s feeling dirty and good.

He lets out a strong groan, and the condom starts inflating quickly as he relives his urine. “FUck—fuck , shit, it’s filling up fast.”

You hold in a gasp because fuck yeah he’s right. The condom expands rapidly as yellow liquid quickly pools in the empty nub at the top before over coming the underside.

“Mmm—ah—ah-ahh-yeahfuck baby—its’ warm. Warm like you,” he grunts, smiling. He tilts his head back and moans, thrusting his hips a bit more like he wants to fuck it. 

He breathes shallowly when it’s over. The condom now tightly packed with warm golden piss around his aching length like a thick balloon, not much larger than a short zucchini but still impressively bulging.

He jerks over himself a little bit, watching the liquid bounce with such inertia it takes a moment to even out. It should be disgusting, really, watching him play with himself with his own piss like a pocket pussy, were it not for the tight clench of your thighs and throb between your legs.

“Reminds me of ya tummy when I filled ya full of it the other day.”

He starts to pull his jeans back up, careful to tuck the full package into his crock area before zipping it up cautiously. Two little hops and everything falls into place. He groans as he manages the button over his waist.

He pats his new bulge before winking into the camera and the video ends.

You don’t even realize you were biting your finger nails while sitting on the toilet seat in the stall. Your skirt bunches up over your legs as you spread them. Fuck, you can’t touch yourself at work!

Just as you’re about to write an extremely lengthly curse off to Joel, another image attachment comes in:

Joel lying on the couch with the camera facing down towards his feet, the evident bulge still packed tight in his head with his girth hand gripping at it through his jeans.

Joel: Warm n tight, just like your sweet little cunt :) 

Another video comes in, and there’s barely any intuition in you left to ignore it as you’re hitting play so quickly.

He’s positioned the phone in front of him again at the couch, folding laundry causally with his legs spread wide. The bulge in his pants, however, is much bigger. Each uncomfortable  shift only elicits a whimper from him, grinding into his palm to adjust the position but only turning him on more. He leans back and unbuttons the pants. The zipper practically falls away on its own to give room to the massive piss filled condom, shaped like a droopy sack, it’s been desperately trying to hold together.

He sighs in relief, jiggling the balloon. It’s now the length of a fat cucumber, sagging to the cushion from the weight. 

“Shit. This is a fuckin’ strong ass condom, baby. Feels like I’m bout to burst everywhere.”

He continues to smack it, jerk it, play with it like a silicon boob and not like it’s his own urine filling a condom and drawing his poor dick, still hard as a rock and an angry shade of red infused with the yellow tint of the sloshing liquid. His leg bounces, both of you hypnotized at the way the latex ripple with each wave.

“Can’t wait for you to come home and see how big it’s gonna get in your hand.” He cups his balls underneath while fisting his warm and wet pocket pussy. It jiggles obscenely in his hand, his hips thrusting into it until his tummy tense and he stills. You can just barely see the little air bubble at the top get smaller as he relieves himself more. His eyes roll back, feeling the warmth surround his meat like living inside your cunt. 

The video ends, and a second image is waiting for you:

Joel standing with his top belt button undone but the zipper struggling to stay up, holding his fat bulge that now has taken over to drooping down his thighs.

Joel: Fucking Christ baby, you see how fucking tight this is? 

You don’t open the last video attachment, as you’re already packing your computer away and telling your manager you’re not feeling well, zipping to your car and speeding home.

-

Joel’s cock is in a constant state of pain and pleasure all day. For one, his piss is keeping everything so fucking warm, unlike anything he’s felt regularly wrapped around his cock, stuffed in his pants. But on the other hand, his dick has been trapped inside a warm wet fluid substance for over two hours non stop hard, and he’s ready to cum geysers.

He considers whether waiting all day for you to come home for his “present” is going to be worth it when he hears keys being entered into the front entrance.

He’s standing right there the moment you open the door. He can tell you rushed with the state of your wrinkled shirt half untucked, messy hair and even more evident—the ferocious look in your eyes. 

You wrap your arms around him and hug him close. He lets out a tiny sigh, feeling your middle press against his crotch tightly. To your delight, it’s still there, all packed tight and warm, crammed so stiffly it could burst with any more pressure. Your hand roughly grabs at the squishy bulge in his jeans and Joel stutters a gasp, then a little moan with his eyes closed in bliss. You can just barely hear the quiet rush of liquid filling into the condom even more.

“Did you just piss some more?” You ask, your hand rubbings soothing circles over the bulge.

He nods, lips parted sinfully with dazed eyes now that you’re here and in charge.

“You’re a naughty boy, sending that shit at work. Making me come home early to take care of this,” you whisper sensually in your honey silk voice that has his veins shivering from excitement and trouble. 

“Nnmgg—mmmm, I wanted you here. And you want its too,” he snickers.

You tug the collar of his shirt and pull him in for a harsh kiss. He groans into your month, pulling you closer and grinding himself into your secure body like a horny teen. His body melts in to your touch, more needy to have you here than you were to have him.

Your tongue holds his hostage while you busy your fingers and unbutton his jeans. The piss filled condom spills out of there like it was desperate to breathe. 

Joel lets out a pathetic sigh of relief. You continue to palm him while he pants into your mouth, all the pent of pressure finally having room to escape, but still trapping his thick cock. It’s fucking heavy, the weight of his hot urine filling the bag over and over again, latex stretched so tight. “It’s.. s-so heavy—bout to burst,” he rasps, eyes shut into your shoulder as you hold it for him. 

You smirk against his lips, continuing your torture in your hand while he shivers.

You reach below the moist cucumber sack and roll his balls in your hand, tugging gently to get him to follow you.

He obeys beautifully. Leaping after you as you massage him, trailing so close that he’s wafting your hair product, twitching in your palm.

“Sit,” you command, pointing to the floor in the bedroom, directly in front of your floor length mirror.

He sinks to the group, staring at his reflection. So pretty and small beneath you. You slide right behind him, hands slowly tracing along his inner thighs, making him involuntarily man spread. 

You grasp the urine condom and start tugging, jerking it in your hand as you pinch his nipples under his shirt with your free hand. 

“You look like a fucking pervert and a whore.”

He whimpers and melts into your touch. Tense in his cock and chest but relaxed everywhere else. Despite the mass of the man in front of you, practically blocking your view of his beautiful twitching body, you perch over his arm to watch. 

His eyes keep drifting back, pleasure consuming him after edging all day. But he keeps snapping forward to look at how you’re tearing him apart.

“Only fucking disgusting boys do this type of shit, Joel. Is that what you are?”

He nods vigorously, hips cantering forward.

The sloshing of liquid grows louder as you pump over the slimy sack faster. His shirt rides up, his soft belly flexing with each painful breath he forces going in and out. 

“Can you fill this up some more? While I’l jerking you off? Don’t cum yet. Want more of your foul liquid to fill this thing. It’s so fucking big, Joel. see how much we can pack into here before it explodes!” You laugh.

He grits his teeth, and you still your movement. With a few assisted tugs wrapped around your own hand, he’s moaning out pornographically, and you can see through the latex the extra stream of gold forced out of the tip of his dick and expanding the hot condom. It’s big enough now that you need Joel to help wrap his other hand around it. The two of you jacking him off together.

“Such a fucking good boy, Miller. My piss hungry boy.”

If you weren’t so fucking turned on by your whimpering mess of a boyfriend you’d be cringing so hard. But Joel just somehow always manages to bring that side out of you.

“Arrgghhhhh--aahhh—oh—ohh—ohf—oh fuck! Fuck it baby, yeah—YEAH—unfff I’m—I’m gonna—“ he’s blabbering incoherently, nodding and shaking his head, overstimulated and yet so close to getting what his whole body is begging for. The condom bounces along as the two of you fall out of rhythm, smashing against his pelvis and balls, his tip stretching across the clear seal before being drowned in a vacuum of piss. 

You accidentally pinch the condom as you pull it close to him again. Coupled with being filled to its limit, the entire thing snaps in a giant explosion of the piss damn breaking, ursting all over Joel’s torso and thighs and the floor.

The impact of it all has his hips thrusting forward, his jaw dropping open in a surprised gasp when he cums into the free air—ropes of it shooting so far onto the mirror. You don’t stop, despite the wet mess all over him and tattered condom shred still clinging between your digits, jerking his wet cock to completion and tilting his hips up so that his creamy spend shoots on his pouty lower lip.

He licks away the salty tang of his orgasm,  breathing down from his high. You  both observe him in the mirror: clothes drenched from chest to knee, splatters of of his spend adorning him and the mirror like overly-excited icing on a tres-leches soaked cake. 

He’s shaking from the aftershock. So overly whipped and leaning further back against you for support. You hold his cock, now finally able to breathe, as you kiss along his jaw and neck. “You’re so gross, I fucking love it,” you tease, nipping at his ear.

He smiles with you, sighing up to the ceiling with blissful sedation. 

He stays pliant in your arms, head resting against your breasts. It’s quiet, minus the love sucks you’re dressing all over his face with your lipstick.

He opens his eyes. “How about a hug after such a loooooong day at work, baby?”

You stop kissing him and lean away, shaking your head. 

“No? Are you sure? I think you need it,” he hums, a devious look in his eyes as he starts to turn on you. 

“Don’t you fucking dare!” You warn. You immediately scramble to your feet and try to run out the door, but Joel’s caught up in no time, bear hugging you from behind.

“Awwwww, isn’t this soooo nice, baby?”

“Gross, gross, gross!” You laugh, wiggling unsuccessfully as you feel his urine seeping from his clothes to your beautiful white blouse and ironed skirt. You shiver at the warm, disgusting feeling of it all.

“Fucking nasty perverted piss boy.”

He giggles into your hair as you admin defeat, swaying with him in a tight embrace.

“With my fucking nasty perverted piss girl.”

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