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joannaliceevans-fanficblog · 6 months ago

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Evermore: Part. 2: Chapter. Four

Here is the long-awaited chapter four! I just wanted to thank each and every one of you who has reblogged and commented! I appreciate all of you!

Also, I took a stab at writing something different. I tried my best!

The Next Morning

Your alarm clock buzzed as it woke you up at 6 am. Yawning, you got up and went to get ready for the day. You packed your swimwear, sunblock, and towels for the beach. Then you went to get your phone and sent a quick text to your friend, Sarah, at the flower shop that you would be picking up your weekly flowers. Once getting everything, you went to Chloe’s bedroom to wake her up. As you walked down the hallway, Andy walked out of his bedroom. You stopped to catch your breath.

Normally, when Andy does this, it isn’t unusual. But today, at this particular moment, you feel flustered looking at your best friend. His hair is messy, and he is only wearing pajama pants. He has a few tattoos, but the washboard abs, toned chest, and light chest hair drive you insane this particular morning. You shake your mind about that thought, and Andy looks at you.

“I-“

“I just remembered that you needed the cooler from the garage. I forgot to get it last night.” Andy said.

You smiled, “Oh, yeah, well, I’m going to get Chloe up.” You rushed past him, ensuring he didn’t see your flustered cheeks. The moment you opened the door, your daughter sat up and rubbed her sleepy eyes.

“Mommy, I don’t want to go to school.” She said, pouting.

You laughed and shook a seat on her little bed, “Oh, sweetie, it’s Saturday. Remember, there’s no school.”

Chloe looked at her mom, and her eyes widened, “Taturday? We see Papa?”

You laughed and helped her out of her Hello Kitty bed.

“Mommy? Is Uncle DeeDee coming?” Chloe asked, with hope in her voice.

You smiled as you lifted her onto the counter and got her toothbrush, “Yes, baby, Uncle DeeDee is coming.” You said.

After a quick breakfast and packing the cooler with drinks and snacks, the Subaru was ready to go. You buckled Chloe into her car seat and entered the passenger’s side. Once you got in, Andy started the car, and they were off. Before getting to the freeway, Andy stopped at the flower shop and picked up the bouquet.

During the drive, Chloe fell asleep, and you and Andy sat comfortably listening to music. Then, Alan Jackson’s Remember When came on, and you started singing. The softness of your voice and the wind blowing softly against you did something to him. Andy knew why Ari had fallen for you.

But something felt different. Something that’s been growing and fast. Andy didn’t know how to describe this feeling. Was it love or lust? Was it an uncontrollable thirst that he couldn’t have? At the same time, he knew that whatever this feeling was, it was not right. This is his best friend and Ari’s wife. He quickly pushed the thought away and noticed you were looking at him.

“Is there something wrong, Barber? Is there a booger on me?” you asked, causing Andy to burst into a fit of giggles.

Another few moments later, Chloe woke up, and Andy pulled into the Massachusetts National Cemetery. After flashing his Military ID, Andy drove the familiar route. After going through a few roadways, Andy parked the car and killed the engine. You and Andy got out, and you went to get Chloe out of her car seat. Once Andy had the flowers, the three of you went to the middle row and stopped in the middle. You then bent down and handed the bouquet to Chloe.

“Hey, Bug, did you want to give these to Papa and tell him about the fun things about your week?” You asked your daughter.

Chloe smiled and nodded. You pinched her button nose and then sat up. You took her hand and faced his headstone.

“I’ll be right behind you, okay?” You said, taking a step back.

He walked through the grass as he headed towards his destination. It was a bright, sunny spring afternoon, and it couldn’t be any better. Finding his way, he smiled as he found what he was looking for a little girl bending down and placing flowers on the grass. He sighed, and he appeared next to the little girl. Ari smiled and took his place next to her.

“Hi, Papa!”

Ari smiled.

“Hi Chloe Bug!”

“Papa, I went to the park because we look for flowers!”

“Flowers? What for?” Ari knew his baby girl couldn't hear him, but seeing her smile brought him joy.

“We get the flowers for pictures, and it's very pwetty! But don't tell Mommy, it's for her! Mommy likes Liwies!”

Ari laughed at his daughter's pronunciation.

“Don't worry, Bug, Papa won't say a word.”

“And Mommy took me for ice cream! It hads lots of spinkles!”

“Yeah, Mommy tells me that you like sprinkles.”

Then Chloe went quiet. Ari got concerned because this is the same trait that his wife had when she got upset.

“Chloe Bug, what's wrong?”

“Papa, I don't like when mommy cries. At night, I sometimes hear her cries. Ands I hear Uncle DeeDee goes to her rooms.”

A tear came down from Ari’s eyes.

“I know baby bear. I miss your mommy too-”

“Papa, I don't like Mr. Jake. He's not Uncle DeeDee! He's not good. I like Uncle DeeDee and Papa. Uncle DeeDee takes care of me.”

Ari wished he could hold his daughter. She talked about how her mommy sometimes gets sad, and Andy is there for her.

“I know, sweetheart, Mr. Jake isn't a good man. But your uncle DeeDee is a good person. I'll make sure of that.”

“Okay, Papa, I go now. I see you next week! I love you, Papa!” Chloe says as she gets up.

Ari smiles, “Love you, baby bug!”

Andy

Andy took a seat on the grass and sat for a moment. He stared at his friend's headstone and sighed. With every weekend, there's always so much to talk about. Even if it's memories, that's been discussed many times.

“Hey, Captain Ari Levinson.”

Ari laughed and rubbed his face in his hands.

“Well, hello there, Lieutenant General. Or should I say General Andy Steven Barber?”

“It's been a wild week, buddy. I don't know where to begin.”

Ari knew Andy wouldn't feel it, so he placed his hand on his shoulder and gently patted it, “I know, buddy. But I'm all ears; you can tell me everything.”

“Ari, I turned away a lot of cases. I took on a case that means a lot to me.”

“Okay, what is it about?”

“I don't normally take on Army cases, but this one was an exception. And no one was willing to take it.”

“I don't like where-” Ari started.

“I'm not sure what I will find, but I'll get to the bottom of this. Anyways, enough of the sap. Chloe…she's one smart, spunky gal you got there, Ari.”

Ari laughed, knowing that was true.

“That's my girl!”

“And I kept your promise, Ari. I will protect her.”

“I know you will. You love her, don't you? Just that jerk is in the way.”

“But she's involved with a man I don't trust. Chloe is timid around him and isn't comfortable, and Y/N notices it. But I don't think she sees it.

“Chloe mentioned him. Jake is his name? But if I were you, I'd trust my daughter. He's a bad man.”

“I want to see Y/N happy. And hopefully, Chloe can have a father.”

Ari looked at his friend and padded him on his shoulder.

“Andy, my man? I hope you understand what you're saying.”

“I won't keep you longer, Ari. I'll see you next week! Love you, buddy!”

Ari smiled. “Don't you worry?”

Y/N

When Andy came back, you bent down and pinched Chloe’s little button nose, making Chloe giggle.

“I’m going to talk to your Papa for a bit, okay? Stay with Uncle DeeDee, alright?” you asked and Chloe nodded her head. You then stood up, and Andy took Chloe’s hand. You then made your way to Ari’s headstone.

You took a seat.

Ari felt that familiar feeling when his wife sat beside him. Knowing she couldn't touch him, Ari leaned his head onto your shoulder. Something that he used to do when he was tired.

“Hi, Mr. Levinson.”

Ari smiled. He loves it when she calls him that.

“Hi, Mrs. Levinson.”

“A lot has happened, babe. I'll start off with Chloe. Your daughter is something else! She's starting to learn things fast, but she hates math.”

“She tells me that she likes animals. And the zoo is her favorite place!”

It was quiet again, and Ari had a feeling something would come.

“Ari, I have good moments when I can smile and think of you and how much you mean to me. Then I have my hard moments, how my heart still feels empty. I know you need me to move on. But I find my days lately of just needing you. I know it's not possible-”

“My queen, I know it's hard, but I need you to be happy. Your daughter, Andy, and Holly are all there for you and help you.”

“Ari, it took me a long time to start dating again-”

“Yea? With that jerk? Honey, I know you can't hear me, but I need you to listen to Chloe and Andy.”

Andy held Chloe’s little hand as they walked along the cemetery. The weather was perfect, and the wind chimes could be heard. Chloe talked, and Andy listened, making him laugh in between.

“Uncle DeeDee?” Chloe asked in a sad tone. Andy paused and looked down at her.

“What's up, Bug?” Andy asked.

Chloe looked at her Uncle with sad eyes, “Uncle DeeDee, I'm sad. I'm sad because I miss Papa. I don't have a papa.” Chloe said, on the verge of crying. Andy looked at her and squatted down to her level.

“Awe, baby bug? I know its-”

“Uncle DeeDee! Mommy, I like mommy happy! She misses my papa and I want a Papa! No, Mr. Jake!” Chloe said as she started to cry.

Andy looked at his goddaughter and wiped her tears.

“Bug, I know. I miss your Papa very much too! But you want to know something? I made a very big promise to your Papa. I promised him that I would always be there for you and your mama and to always protect you and mama. Okay?” Andy said, pinching her button nose.

“You prowmis?”

“Yes, baby bug. I promised your Papa when you were born.”

“Uncle DeeDee, I don't like Mr. Jake. He's no Papa. He gave me pwesent, but I don't like it. I took it because Mommy told me not to be a meany,” Chloe said.

“I know you don't like Mr. Jake. I don't either. But your mommy likes him, and we need her to be happy-”

“NO! MOMMY, no, mommy is not. Mr. Jake is mean. I see him walking by Papa’s picture, and he says bad words!” Chloe cried. Andy looked into her eyes, and he knew that something was up.

“Why do you say that? I know you don't like Mr. Jake.”

“Mr. Jake saids mean things to Papa!” Chloe said, and Andy picked her up. She placed her little arms around his neck, and he rubbed his hand around her back.

“Okay, baby bug, I'm here now. I promise not to let Mr. Jake make you unhappy, okay?” Andy said.

Chloe lifted her little head, and he wiped away more of her tears, “Prowmis Uncle DeeDee?” Chloe asked, sticking out her little pinky.

Andy laughed and placed his pinky with hers. “Yes, I, Uncle DeeDee, promise.”

#andy barber #andy barber x reader #andy barber fanfiction #andy barber x female reader #andy barber x you #ari levinson x reader #andy barber fic #joanns evermore #ari levinson angst

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mountainsandmayhem · 6 months ago

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Free on Sunday? I am free on everyday that starts with T for him; Tuesday, Thursday, today, tomorrow, taturday and Tunday.

grilled cowboy like me chapter three

part iii of dbf!joel! parts i here and ii here. ask, dear readers, and you shall receive. i do just wanna also add a massive thank you to you guys for all the love on this series. every single like, reblog, reply, etc. means the world to me. i hope you enjoy this next chapter 💚 reader got joel quaking !!! 🥵

pairing: dbf!joel x fem!reader

summary: joel knows he shouldn't be looking at you the way he is, but you look so pretty on your knees; how can he say no?

warnings: 18+ minors dni!!! oral (m receiving), praise kink, jealous/protective joel, age gap (reader is 23, joel is 48), consumption of alcohol, cursing

word count: 4.6k

series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist

You know what he means. He’s in a lot more trouble than you are if you both get caught; he’s your dad’s buddy. He isn’t supposed to be fooling around with his best friend’s daughter. You think over what you’ve gotta be doing to him – all the glances when no one’s looking, the touching, practically fucking begging for him to make you cum earlier. It’s no wonder he’s trying so hard to stop himself every time, no surprise he’s doing all he can not to give in to you. And right then, you realize – That’s exactly what you want him to do.

You spend a few more minutes up in your room before you follow Joel out the door and downstairs. You’re a little flustered, okay? Your dad’s best friend just had you literally wrapped around his fingers, and now you both gotta head off to a friendly neighborhood barbecue you’re supposed to be hosting. All smiles. All, Anyone need a refill? All, No, I haven’t just totally been fooling around with Joel Miller.

The house is empty and voices feed in from the backyard. You push aside the shades and step out onto the bright patio, where a few of your neighbors are sitting. Joel stands between Hank and Rita’s chairs, and you amble over to his side.

You sense his body tensing as soon as you reach him, your shoulder brushing off of his deliberately.

“Hello, my girl,” Rita calls, taking one of your wrists in her frail hands. “I sure am glad to see you back on home turf.”

You smile a little awkwardly, placing a hand on top of hers. “It’s nice to see you, too. How’ve you been?”

“Still livin’, honey, still livin’.”

She lets go of you when Hank takes her up in conversation, and your attention turns back to Joel.

“Busy, huh? Lotta people came.”

“Mhm,” he grunts, taking a step away from you and folding his arms. You eyes skim across the new distance between you both, noting it.

“Joel, your Sarah,” Rita swivels to face him, “she’s home soon, right?”

Joel nods. “The seventeenth.”

Hank gives a nod. “It’ll be a fine summer havin’ both you girls back home.”

Joel shifts awkwardly, his eyes darting around the patio. He spots Bill across the pool, by your dad’s work shed, and excuses himself. You track him as he makes off, and feel your face reddening.

Your dad’s head and shoulders materialize through the sliding door to the kitchen and he calls on you, beckoning you in. You hesitantly wander over, a cloud of shame forming over your head that you hope he can’t see.

“Bill’s beer,” he adds a Coors to a tray filled with glasses and bottles, “Marcia’s iced tea, a Coke for Sam…Joel– Shoot, we ain’t got Joel anythin’. Reckon he’ll touch Coors?”

You flinch at the mention of his name, and instantly try to recover it. “I wouldn’t know, why would I know that?”

Your dad’s hands lift like you’ve aimed a shotgun at him. “Alright, cranky, jeez. Go back to bed, get out the right side this time. Here.”

He lifts the tray and slowly passes it over the island to you, the glass trembling.

“…you remember, now? Bill – beer, Marcia – iced tea, Sam–”

“– Coke, yeah, I got it. Go take a Xanax, dad, your hair’s fallin’ out.”

“And ask Joel what he’s after!” he calls as you slip out of the sliding door.

Marcia sits beside her daughter, Lisa, on the pool loungers. You bend your knees and lower the tray for her to reach her drink.

“Thank you, honey.” She grins gratefully as she lifts it off the shaking tray and you return her smile, then continue on.

Bill is stood at the other end of the garden with Joel, arms crossed, both listening to some story Arthur Kennedy’s telling about a mechanic he works with. Arthur Kennedy always kinda scared you, was always loud and drunk. Your dad and Joel used to deliberately come up with excuses to keep you and Sarah away from him at parties.

This time is no different. You approach the group of men from Joel’s right side, dipping behind his back to stand between him and Bill, safely separated from the raving storyteller.

“He says he’d just oiled it, I said, Benny, that engine’s drier ‘n a nun’s nasty!”

He erupts into a roar of laughter despite the silence of his companions, and you nudge the tray against Bill’s arm.

“Oh, darlin’,” he says, turning to you and giving you an affectionate smile as he lifts the beer. “Thanks, sweetheart.”

You smile back. Bill can be gruff, a bit of a loner, but he’s always had a soft spot for you.

“How you doin’?” he asks, taking a swig.

You nod. “Good. Back workin’ at Sal’s, so…living the dream.”

You can feel Arthur’s stare on you like the hot sun. You shift awkwardly from foot to foot, tray tucked under your elbow against your hip.

“I’ll bet,” Bill says. “He got you workin’ hard?”

“Not really. It’s a pretty quiet store. Uh, Dad wanted me to ask,” you turn to Joel, whose eyes are glued to the ground, “what you’re drinkin’?”

He shakes his head, palm hooked around the back of his neck. “I’ll get my own. Thanks.”

“Aw, c’mon Joelie,” Arthur taunts. You try to avoid looking him in the eye out of fear he’ll take you up on it, but he does it anyways. “Why don’t you just let this pretty little waitress of ours bring you a drink? Since she’s bein’ so sweet ‘n offerin’.”

Your eyes flit to Joel. His jaw is tense, his eyes dark as he stares down Arthur.

“You know what,” he says through his teeth, “I’ll take a Bud. C’mon, you’ll know where they are, right?”

“Wh– We didn’t get any–”

“Be in the fridge, I’ll bet.” He takes your arm and pulls you away from the duo, who resume conversation as you leave.

You’re hauled back into the kitchen so fast that you almost drop Sam’s soda.

“Joel, be careful!”

He lets go of your arm and watches Arthur from the kitchen window. “Scumbag,” he mutters.

“Do you suffer from short-term memory loss?” you ask, throwing the tray onto the counter. “Didn’t we have a whole argument in the store about me not gettin’ Bud?”

“Just had to get you away from him, talkin’ like that. Guy pisses me off,” Joel huffs.

“Who pisses you off?” your dad calls, appearing from the bathroom.

Joel shoots him a look. “Arthur Kennedy. What’s he doin’ here?”

“I couldn’t not invite him; I know he’s a dirtball. You stay away from him.” He points a finger at you.

“Very good,” Joel replies. “Great plan. Make it her problem to keep the pervert off her tail.”

“Pervert?” You scoff.

“You don’t hear him at Frank’s!” Joel rounds on you now, and you raise your eyebrows. “That waitress line wasn’t even half of it.”

Your dad chuckles, patting Joel’s shoulder as he passes. “I’ll keep an eye on it.” He wanders out to the patio.

Joel’s still full of rage. You watch him, not sure whether to move closer or let him calm down on his own.

“I think you’re probably overreacting a little. It was a creepy line, and I won’t be goin’ near him anyways, but it’s fine. I can dodge Arthur Kennedy.”

“Shouldn’t need to. Shouldn’t be put in that position.”

He doesn’t take his eyes off of the kitchen counter, palms pressed flat to the surface, shoulders hunched, breathing deep. He looks like a wild bear, like he could rip Arthur Kennedy limb from limb if only he’d just stroll through the sliding door.

You decide to give him some time to cool off.

“I gotta get this Coke to Sam. You good?”

“I’ll be fine,” he snaps, and you take that as your cue to dip.

When you reappear into the sunlight, a pair of hands clamp down on your shoulders, making you jump.

“Hey, stranger!”

“Sam!” you cry, clutching your chest. “You almost gave me a damn heart attack. Here, idiot.”

You hand him the soda, and he tilts it in your direction, a thank-you in the form of a toast.

“I’ve been meaning to drop by Frank’s since I got home, come pay you a visit.”

“I’ll get you a drink on the house when you do.” Sam smiles, blonde fringe gleaming in the sun.

“So, how’s it going?” you ask.

“It’s…going.” He laughs. “Was just talking to Hank about college courses. Figured I might apply. This bartending life is not for me.”

“Do it. Come be a graduate with me. I got a degree, forty grand of debt, and absolutely no prospects!”

Sam laughs. “Nah, you got a brain, you’re gonna work somethin’ out.”

You both take seats by the pool to catch up. Sam’s a nice guy; he was in your circle of friends at school, and, like Anna, always stayed in Austin while you and the rest up and left.

Your dad always thought he had a thing for you, being that he was male and you two were close, and your dad’s an old-fashioned man who doesn’t believe any good can come from two people of opposite genders being friends. But Sam’s a sweet guy, and his being here pushes Joel’s sudden change in behavior a little further back in your mind.

“I’m working later on, so I’m only staying for an hour or so. My mom says hi, by the way.”

“Hi right back. Is she doing okay?”

“Fine! She’s fine. As fine as she can be, I think. Y’know, my dad leaving wasn’t too great. She took it pretty hard. But we’re settled into the new place, she’s doing good. Do you…Did you scratch yourself, or somethin’?”

He points underneath your hair to the side of your neck and your fingers run across the skin, wincing a little over a particular spot under your jaw. A memory flashes before your eyes as the sensitive skin tingles and your eyes instantly lock on the culprit: emerging from the kitchen door, beer in hand, dark eyes scanning the garden for you.

When you lock eyes, he makes a passive expression and wanders off in the opposite direction.

“Uh– No, that’s weird. Well, I had a nap earlier. I might have scratched myself in my sleep, y’know?”

Sam narrows his eyes. He’s twenty-three, dumbass, he’s not an idiot.

You smile sweetly at him and scrape together some reason to excuse yourself, dashing off to the bathroom to examine Joel’s handiwork.

It’s only a little red, probably more noticeable in the sunlight, but still, you grab some concealer and dab it over the mark. Feeling exhausted from running around and pretty pissed off with Joel, you march back outside and throw yourself into a chair beside Hank.

“Your dad knows how to cook a burger,” he tells you, holding a napkin to his mouth. “Delicious.”

“I’ll grab one in a bit. Not really hungry.”

You spend a little time chatting with Hank and Rita, answering their questions about college, telling anecdotes about work, asking about Anna’s makeup business.

“That girl,” Hank shakes his head, “there ain’t no tellin’ her. I’m just her ol’ uptight dad.”

All the while you periodically glance up, across the pool to Joel, and each time, he’s staring right back.

When you get up to grab some food, his eyes follow you. When Sam pulls you in for a hug to say goodbye, he’s watching. When Arthur stumbles over to sit across from Hank, Joel’s figure appears like an apparition at the side of him. Across the table, an appropriate distance away, but keeping an eye on you.

It fills you with equal parts thrill and frustration.

You find yourself laughing extra hard at Bill’s comments, leaning your head on Marcia’s shoulder, leaping to your feet anytime Hank wants a refill, or Rita asks you to light her cigarette. All to get to Joel. All so he has to watch you be unbothered by him for the entire night.

The garden is darker, porch light attracting moths and flies, but a small group of your neighbors sits congregated under blankets on the patio still. You’re talking about New York with Lisa when you notice Joel lean in to your dad across the table.

“I’m gonna head, early start tomorrow,” he says, getting up from his seat.

“You remember your gas tank, Joel,” your dad tells him, nodding over to the grilling station.

“Hey.” You feel a nudge on your shoulder and look up to find his brown eyes looking down into yours. “Give me a hand, would ya? Loadin’ this into the truck.”

“You got it out just fine on your own.”

He calls you by name, and you know from his stern expression he’s serious.

You stand, shaking the blanket from your shoulders, and follow him over to the barbecue. He detaches the tank and picks it up. You wrap your fingers around the handle beside Joel’s, but when the two of you waddle out the back gate, you can feel he has most of the weight.

You reach his truck, shrouded in darkness from the dusk. He hands you the keys from his back pocket and you drop the tailgate, then Joel hoists the tank up by himself and wipes his hands on his jeans.

“What’d you even need me for?”

“Been weird today. Wanted to check you were alright.”

“Are you fucking serious?” You groan. “Are you talking to me or not?”

“Of course I’m talkin’ to ya.”

“Then stop being an asshole, okay? I’m bored of asshole Joel. I want my Joel back.”

He looks at you almost solemnly.

“Look, if you don’t wanna talk about what happened upstairs, we don’t have to, but–”

“’s not that I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Then what is it?”

The floodlight over the garage switches on and your back gate clicks open. Your dad ushers Rita out, coat draped over her shoulders.

“Just walkin’ Rita home,” your dad calls.

“See ya, hon!”

You wave. “Bye, Rita.”

When you turn back, Joel’s making his way toward the truck door.

“Oh, go fuck yourself,” you mutter under your breath, and silently storm back into the house.

You hear his truck pull away as you throw yourself down onto your bed. Fucking livid.

Alright, you agreed nothing happened. But then Joel went and started acting like something totally happened. If anyone had caught on to the way he was acting, they’d for sure know something was up.

The anger rolls around in your stomach; his avoiding you, the way he kicked off when Arthur made that comment, the way his eyes followed you around the garden afterward.

And worst of all, you fucking liked it. You liked him protecting you, didn’t you? You liked the way he couldn’t help himself, had to make sure you were out of reach of any danger. You liked peering over Sam’s shoulder to find his gaze frozen on you.

You sit up, hands either side of your hips on your mattress. You look down and notice what they��re resting on.

Joel’s flannel shirt.

You’re halfway out the door, shirt in your fist, before you even have time to breathe. You run into your dad in the driveway.

“Woah, woah, where we off to?”

“Joel forgot his shirt.”

“I’m sure he can do without it for a few days, kiddo.”

“I’ll just take it back to ‘im,” you call, hopping in your car before he has time to protest.

You’re at Joel’s in five minutes.

Knocking and waiting for him to answer might ruin the argumentative vibe you’re trying to set, so you fling his front door open and walk straight into his hallway.

The house sits in complete darkness, save for a small light flooding in from the room at the end of the hall. You wander up to it and find Joel sat at his kitchen table, staring down at some contract papers on the wood. Aside from the dull light over his head, the kitchen is dark, orange tinge on the walls from the streetlights outside.

He doesn’t flinch when your shoe scuffs his tile floor. Instead, he just flips the papers back over and sighs.

“Subtlety not in your nature, is it, kid?”

“You left this.” You throw the shirt onto the table.

His eyes scan over it. “Thought I told you to keep it.”

“Oh,” you sit down opposite him, “my mistake. I thought you meant keep it until you’d had your way with me. Thought once you’d dumped me I was to hand the flannel back.”

“Dumped you?” He raises his eyebrows, sitting back in his chair. “Hm.”

“Hm?”

“I wasn’t tryin’ to dump you. I didn’t mean for you to feel…dumped.”

“The most you talked to me all afternoon was to give me a grilling about Arthur Kennedy. All you did was stare at me, then ask me to help you carry a gas tank at the very end of the night.”

He scratches his beard, considering what you’re saying.

“I mean, I thought we agreed to act like it didn’t happen,” you continue, “I thought we were fine.”

“Fine? You think what we did was fine?”

You struggle to find words to reply. Sure, it was better than fine. And at the same time, it was a terrible idea.

“We…We were…We were just messing around.”

Joel almost laughs. “Messin’ around.”

“Yeah,” you protest. “I liked it, you looked like you liked it. What’s wrong with it?”

“I’ll tell you what’s wrong with it. If we do this, if we’re ‘messin’ around’…what makes me any different to…to Arthur Kennedy? Hm? Just another creep on the street, hangin’ around and flirtin’ with girls far too young for ‘im?”

“The difference is I actually want you to do it, Joel.”

His expression drops. He stands up, shoving the chair back, and wanders off toward the kitchen counter.

You twist around to watch him. “I want this. And I’m twenty-three fucking years old, I can decide for myself. Arthur is, like, sixty years old, anyway. And he ain’t even a good sixty – he’s all grey, wrinkly skin, greasy hair like he doesn’t know how to work his own shower–”

“Alright, kid, we’re digressin’ here.” Joel waves his hand.

You snap back to reality and shake your head to clear it of Arthur Kennedy’s leathery skin. “Sorry, sorry.”

“It’s just not a good idea.”

“What’s not?” You stand.

“This. Us. You ‘n me.”

“And did you decide this before or after you fucked around with me in my bedroom?”

Joel sighs, shaking his head and turning away. He places one hand on his hip, the other to the bridge of his nose.

“I mean…” You throw your arms up, finally at breaking point. “What are you doing to me?”

Your tone forces him to turn back. When your expression matches it, he approaches you, gently cupping your face in both hands.

“I’m tryin’ to rein this in a little, baby. I’m tryna be the responsible one here. You know how hard it is not to give in to this? To you?”

You know what he means. He’s in a lot more trouble than you are if you both get caught; he’s your dad’s buddy. He isn’t supposed to be fooling around with his best friend’s daughter.

You think over what you’ve gotta be doing to him – all the glances when no one’s looking, the touching, practically fucking begging for him to make you cum earlier. It’s no wonder he’s trying so hard to stop himself every time, no surprise he’s doing all he can not to give in to you. And right then, you realize –

That’s exactly what you want him to do.

Your head falls limp in his grasp. “Then, stop trying.”

Joel’s eyes trace over your face; down the bridge of your nose, across your lips, over to where your jaw meets his rough hands. He’s tossing the thought of it over in his head like a penny. Only there’s no right answer.

Heads, you call it off, and lose any chance of ever knowing what this is between you guys. Tails, you fall down the rabbit hole; secret, clandestine, forbidden rabbit hole, and risk losing…well, everything.

Is it worth that risk? Just to feel him on you again? To feel his lips across yours, hungry, demanding, his hips grinding into you, his hands all over you, the way he looks at you as you cum for him…

Suddenly, like the realization hits him at the exact same time as it does you, Joel’s eyes darken.

Yeah. It’s fucking worth it.

His grip becomes rough, shifting from your jaw to around your throat. He pulls you toward him, lips connecting, and your hands press against his chest.

His grasp drops, squeezing your hips, before one hand leaves to settle between your legs. He just can’t get enough, can he?

“Uh-uh,” you mumble against his mouth, “you had your taste earlier. It’s my turn.”

You push him back against the counter. He’s staring at you with nothing but lust behind his eyes. Without a word, you sink down, knees hitting the cold tile.

“Baby…” Joel hums when your hands find his belt buckle. You smirk at his voice; you’re too good to be true to him. Like he can’t believe what’s about to happen.

You undo his belt and pull it through the loops, letting it fall to the floor with a clink. Then your fingers undo his jeans, almost tearing them apart by the zipper with your eagerness to see him.

As you pull the denim over his hips, you feel his hand softly rest on the crown of your head. A quick glance up tells you he’s watching every single thing you’re doing, lapping it up like it’s the last thing he’ll ever see.

You can see the bulge through his boxers; it’s big. Bigger than you imagined, even with your hand stuffed down your panties.

You place a gentle kiss to his thigh and pull the waistband of his underwear down, and his cock springs free. You gasp a little at the size of it, feeling your mouth watering at the sight of precum on his tip.

Your hands wrap around it, clutching his girth. You pump him a few times in your hands and he tips his head back, mouth agape. His free hand grips the counter, steadying himself.

His tip oozes more precum and you wrap your lips around it, sucking gently. Joel groans, audibly. The most audible you’ve heard him yet. It drives you insane.

You push your lips down his shaft, his cock filling up your mouth to your throat before you even reach the bottom. You push down as far as your throat will allow before releasing him with a pop, saliva mixed with Joel all over your lips.

“Good girl,” he’s mumbling, eyes still screwed shut, hand still knotting in your hair.

You drag your tongue along the underside of his dick, closing your eyes. All you can think is Joel, all you can taste, smell, and breathe is him. Completely dumb for this man, cock stretching your mouth so good.

When you take him in down to your throat again, he begins moving his hips; fucking your mouth. You steady yourself, hands on his upper thighs, and let him, trying not to lower your hand to your cunt to relieve the ache quickly growing there.

The sounds he’s making are enough to make you cum by themselves. He’s panting, moaning, breathing your name, groaning whenever your cheeks hollow and you suck until he’s so close he pulls you off.

“Wanna take my time, baby. You’re doing so good.”

You pull him back into your mouth. He tastes like sweat and salt and Joel. He tastes perfect.

When he bumps the back of your throat and you gag a little, you notice Joel’s head snap down to check on you. His grip on your hair loosens, and you softly gaze back at him, eyes blown with lust, to let him know you’re okay.

You drag your lips off of his head, a string of saliva still linking your mouth to his reddened tip. You’re panting now, half-turned on, half-tired from accommodating the size of him between your jaw.

Your palms wrap around his length again, pumping and twisting slowly while your tongue flicks over his head. He grits his teeth, both hands now against the countertop, knuckles whitening the longer you go on.

When you let go of him and dip your head down to take his whole cock in your throat, he lets out a deep groan.

“Keep goin’, baby, keep doin’ that,” he’s groaning, your head bobbing up and down. “Don’t fuckin’ stop.”

His hand falls to the back of your head and he applies a little pressure, fucking into you again.

When you begin to feel him jerk, you lean back, hands helping him to his high as you hold his head to your bottom lip.

Joel’s hand never leaves your head as his cock twitches, filling your throat and coating your tongue in warm, salty cum. He’s calling your name, breath heaving and hips shuddering.

His length slides out of your mouth. When his orgasm subsides, he watches you lick your lips and swallow his load, before tucking his softening dick under his boxers and pulling his jeans back up.

You watch in a distant haze of ecstasy as Joel does his pants up himself and takes your chin in his hand.

Breathing heavy, you look up at him, eyes hooded. Waiting for permission to stand.

“C’mere,” he whispers, and your tired legs hoist you back up to height.

He envelops you in his arms, placing a kiss to your forehead and letting you lean into his chest.

You let your eyes fall closed as you breathe each other in.

“So good to me,” Joel mumbles against your forehead, and you lazily smile.

You could let him carry you up to his bed and fall asleep right then and there, you think. That is, until you hear your phone vibrating on the table.

“Fuck,” you groan, and Joel releases you from his grasp.

“Just makin’ sure you ain’t dead,” your dad chirps down the line.

“I’m still at Joel’s,” you reply, “just leavin’.”

“Don’t you be keepin’ him, you hear?”

You pretend not to, and get him off the phone as quickly as possible. When you turn back around, Joel’s stood with a smirk on his face.

“Go on. Don’t want to make him suspicious.”

You skip over and place a kiss to his lips, and he runs a hand through your hair.

“Like I said, we’re not doing anything wrong.”

“Just messing around,” he says.

----------

As you approach the front door, you pause for a second and compose yourself. Glance in the window to check your reflection, take a deep breath. The last thing you need right now is your dad noticing something’s different.

He’s sitting in the recliner watching baseball highlights when you stumble in. He doesn’t turn to look at you as you dive straight for the refrigerator to grab a bottle of water.

“Hey there. Joel get his precious shirt back?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, sure. Just couldn’t be bothered with it lying around my room.”

He hums absentmindedly. You stand by the kitchen island chugging the water, avoiding conversation with him and looking for an excuse to dismiss yourself to bed.

“Hey,” he says after a bit, “did you find the burgers too…salty?”

You choke on your drink. “The– Too– What?”

“The burgers. Not sure if I over-seasoned ‘em. Were they salty?”

“No. They were fine. They were fine.”

Dizzy with adrenaline, you feign sleepiness and bid him goodnight. When you reach your room and collapse onto your bed, your phone buzzes.

Your eyes scan over the text; your heart skips and you feel a flutter just south of your belly button.

Joel: You free Sunday?

----------

tag list: @yvonneeeee @brittmb115 @subconsciouscollapse (let me know if u wanna be added!)

#joel miller #joel miller fic #dbf!joel miller #dbf!joel #joel miller x reader #the last of us #tlou #tlou fic #joel miller smut #joel miller pedro pascal

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