Tumgik
#joel x reader smut
punkshort · 5 months
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i'll be home for christmas | part one
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Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
Summary: Having just caught your fiancé cheating on you, you decide to come back home from the big city to Austin for the month of December to try to figure out your next step. You had no idea you would be getting more than you bargained for with the handsome single dad who built your parents' house.
Chapter Warnings: no outbreak, modern day but Joel is 40, language, fluff, flirting, reader has a childhood nickname only her family uses, Hallmark tropes up the wazoo, soft!joel, reader's sister is pregnant, talks of infidelity, talks of divorce, alcohol use, kissing, (smut in part two)
WC: 9.1K
A/N: this is my take on a cheesy, fluffy, soft, smutty, Joel Miller Hallmark Christmas movie. It's just sweet and silly and makes me smile, and I hope it does the same for you. I also wrote this in less than 2 days and didn't really edit it much, so sorry in advance if there's any errors.
Found the pic on Twitter but can't remember the source, if you know please send me a message and i will credit them
Series Masterlist
It was the second week of December as you stood inside the airport in Austin, Texas, waiting for your luggage to emerge on the conveyor belt. You thought by coming home early, you would have avoided the holiday traffic, but you were wrong. All around you, people squealed with excitement and embraced, dragging their worn out luggage behind them as they made their way out of the bustling airport. You tried to keep the scowl from your face as you watched, but it was next to impossible, so you wrapped your Burberry scarf around your neck instead, hoping to hide your displeasure.
This was not the plan you had for Christmas. You should be in New York in a high-rise apartment in front of a roaring fireplace with a glass of wine and your fiancé - ex-fiancé - not back in Austin with your parents, who begged you to come visit for the holidays after you told them the news.
Coming home to visit wasn't your favorite thing, but you felt guilty having avoided the holidays with your family for so many years, and you would have ended up all alone in the city anyway. So you caved, using up all the PTO you saved for the wedding, and took the rest of the year off from work.
Your designer luggage stood out like a sore thumb when it tumbled down the conveyor belt. You winced after watching the impact and snatched it up quickly. Glancing around, you saw a beacon in the storm: a familiar green, glowing sign in the distance - Starbucks. The line was long, but your flight was early, so you waited and got a latte, hoping it would lift your spirits a bit before you had to face your parents.
You tapped the side of your coffee cup anxiously as you rode the escalator down to the first floor, scanning the crowd for your mom and dad. There were a few people holding up signs with names on them, and when you saw the sign that said "Bucket" on it, you cringed.
Your dad's tall, round frame came into view when the people in front of him dispersed. He looked almost exactly the same, except a little greyer. Still sporting a shockingly full head of hair and his signature thick mustache, he grinned and pulled you into a warm hug.
"Really, Dad? 'Bucket'?"
"Well, that's what we call you, ain't it?" he said with a smile. You rolled your eyes and tried to be annoyed, but you had to admit that you were happy to see him.
"Where's Mom?" you asked.
"She's waitin' in the car, didn't wanna pay for parking so we're in a pick up zone, let's hustle," he said, wrapping his arm around you as he led you outside. "How was the flight?"
"Long," you said, then gasped when the cold air hit you. "Wow, I didn't think it would be this cold yet."
"It's been a cold one so far this year," he nodded, directing you to the left where you could see your mom smiling and waving from the passenger seat of their white SUV. You waved back and grinned. Maybe coming home wasn't such a bad idea, after all.
"Hiya, Bucky!" your mom said happily, leaning out of the window to give you a half hug while your dad loaded up your belongings in the back.
"Hey, Mom," you replied. "I like your sweater."
She was wearing one of her tacky Christmas sweaters that she wore every year - unironically. It amazed you how some things never change.
You climbed into the back seat as your dad carefully exited the parking spot and joined the line of cars that were slowly inching towards the main road.
"We're so glad you decided to come home this year, you can finally see the new house!" your mom said excitedly. They had built a brand new house, and the way she provided updates and pictures to you over the phone for the past year, you felt like you had already seen it.
"Yeah, can't wait," you said, staring out the window.
"Hope you don't mind, but we're throwin' a party tomorrow night," your dad said, glancing at you in the review mirror. "Wanted to have our friends over to see the place and have an early holiday party. They'll be so happy to see you, it's been so long since you've been home, Buck."
You had been hoping to spend most of the next three weeks in bed moping and scrolling on your phone. The thought of a party and seeing all those people looking at you with pity made your stomach turn. Your mom must have sensed your discomfort.
"It's alright, honey. They won't say anything," she said softly, and you squeezed your eyes shut.
"Okay," you replied, your voice pained as you opened your eyes to stare at the passing traffic on the thruway.
You'll make an appearance for an hour, and then try to sneak back upstairs until the party ends, already fabricating a headache to blame it on.
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The house your parents built was impressive, even you had to admit. It was a two story colonial with four bedrooms and three bathrooms. The open floor plan was stunning as you made your way from room to room. The first floor alone had a spacious living room with vaulted ceilings, a kitchen with an attached dining room, and a separate family room off the back. There was even a small office by the front door that you missed the first time around, and a pantry as big as your closet back home.
You cringed at the thought, reminding yourself that it was no longer your home. That was part of the problem. You had moved in with Will, and when you discovered he had been cheating on you, you crashed at your friend Melanie's place. When you tearfully told your parents the news a few days later, they asked you to come home. Just for the holidays, your mom had said. Just to give you time to figure out your next move.
"This is beautiful, Mom," you said honestly, admiring the fine details on the cabinets.
"Thank you, sweetie. Took a long time, but Joel built it just right for us," she said, beaming.
"Oh, the contractor, right?" you replied, distracted now by the backsplash above the counters.
"He's such a sweet man, he was so patient with us when we changed our minds a million times over every little thing."
"Well, tell him he did a great job," you murmured, opening and shutting different drawers.
"You can tell him yourself, he'll be at the party tomorrow," your dad said, opening the fridge to scrounge for some snacks.
"You invited your contractor to your holiday party?" you asked in disbelief.
"Sure we did. We either saw him or spoke to him almost every single day for a year. He's a good man."
"Okay," you said slowly, still finding it a bit strange, but reminding yourself that things worked a little differently in the south.
"Bucket!" you heard your sister call from the front of the house. A smile plastered across your face instantly as you rushed to the door, both of you squealing as you wrapped your arms around each other and jumped in a circle, unable to contain your excitement.
"Cassie!" you said, pulling back to look at her, brushing her sleek, dark brown hair over her shoulder. "You look fantastic!"
"Ugh, I feel like shit," she said, and you laughed, glancing down at her barely swollen belly.
"How far along are you again?" you asked.
"Twenty weeks, but I'm ready for this to be over! I'm so tired all the time, it sucks," she said, flopping down on the couch in the living room after she gave your parents quick hugs.
"Where's Josh?" your mom asked, referring to your brother in law.
"He's still working, he'll be by later," Cassie said, waving her hand. "Gives us a chance to catch up," she added with a wink.
"You girls do that, we need to go to the store for tomorrow night. Do you need anything?" your mom asked, and you shook your head, eager for them to leave so you could be alone with your sister.
"Tell me everything," Cassie said the moment the door clicked shut.
If it were anyone else, you wouldn't have been in the mood to talk about the mess that was currently your life, but you've always been able to talk about anything with your sister. You trusted each other implicitly and there was no judgement, no matter if you had cheated on a test or gotten drunk during prom, you told each other everything.
So you did. You told her how for months, you felt like something was off with Will. How he would stay out late and say it was for work, but none of his work friends ever posted about going anywhere those nights on social media. He grew more distant and you tried to ignore your paranoia, but when he collapsed into bed one night, too out of it to wash up, and you saw the lipstick on his neck the next morning, you lost it. He hardly even tried to explain himself, barely even attempted to lie, and you began to think maybe he wanted to get caught. Maybe he wanted you to do the dirty work and end things so he didn't have to. Fucking coward.
"What a piece of shit. I never liked him," Cassie said when you were finished. "He acted like he was so much better than everyone when he was here, do you remember the comments he made about the wine mom had? It was so fucking rude."
"Yeah, I know," you agreed.
"So why were you even with him?"
"We had been together since college, Cas," you said, exasperated. "I knew him before he was like that. He used to be sweet and fun. Then he got that finance job and met all those assholes and he became just like them."
"Well, I'm just glad you didn't end up married before finding out what he's really like," she said, shifting her weight on the couch with her hand cupping her small stomach. "That would have been a huge mess."
"It's still a huge mess, I have no where to live now, and I can only couch surf for so long," you said, burying your face in your hands.
"You'll figure it out, Buck. I'll help you look for places online while you're here. Maybe set up some appointments so you can tour them when you get back."
"Thanks," you said, giving her a weak smile. "That would actually be great."
"Now, on to more important things," your sister said, slapping her palms against her knees to stand.
"Baby names?" you asked.
"No! Let's figure out what you'll wear to the party tomorrow," she said, wiggling her eyebrows. "I wanna look through all your fancy designer clothes."
You giggled and stood to join her.
"Fine, but I'm still dropping baby names while you look," you replied.
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After spending a majority of the next day helping your parents decorate and prepare food for the party, you finally were able to excuse yourself to shower and get ready. Cassie had picked out a Ralph Lauren lace cocktail dress that Will had bought for your birthday last year. You slipped it on, running your hands over the fabric as you adjusted the dress in the mirror. Just because he bought it didn't mean you couldn't wear it again. You snatched the glass of wine from your dresser and took a sip, trying to push the thought of him from your head as you made your way downstairs.
Cassie and Josh were already in the kitchen, munching on appetizers and chatting with your parents. Cassie let out a low whistle when you entered the room. You waved her off and gave Josh a big hug and kiss on the cheek.
"Good to see you," you told him with a smile. "All ready for the baby?"
"Getting there," Josh replied, wrapping an arm around Cassie's waist. You tried to ignore the ugly, jealous pit in your stomach as he told you how the nursery was coming along. You wasted so many years of your life on Will. Your sister was already married and starting a family, and here you were, basically homeless and starting over. Pathetic.
Family friends slowly began to trickle into the house, luckily being whisked away by your parents to give them a tour after you meekly greeted them and hid back in the kitchen. As more and more people arrived, you began to wonder how your parents kept so many close friends when you barely had a handful back in New York.
A few kids raced by you in the kitchen as you made your way to the bar to refill your wine. Even though it was loud, you could still hear your dad's booming voice as he regaled a friend with a fishing story. You wandered around a bit, trying to find Cassie and Josh so you didn't look out of place, but stopped dead in your tracks when you saw them chatting with Mr. Tanner and his son, Troy, backing away before they could see you. Troy used to have the biggest crush on you when you were kids. If he found out you were single, you wouldn't be able to shake him all night.
You eventually found yourself alone, back in front of the snacks. You picked at the chips on your plate, not really interested in eating but hoping to avoid any awkward conversations, so you kept your eyes down, scrolling mindlessly on your phone. Apparently, it wasn't good enough because you felt someone sidle up next to you.
"Those any good?" a deep, unfamiliar drawl spoke from your side. You looked up to find the softest pair of brown eyes you've ever seen on a man. Blinking, you took a moment as your gaze raked over his patchy beard and the dark, tousled curls on his head. They looked so soft, you had to resist the urge to reach out and touch them. What was wrong with you?
"Huh?" you managed to squeak out after you realized you had waited too long to reply. Idiot.
"The, uh, chips," he said, pointing at your plate before rubbing the back of his neck.
"Oh!" you said, looking at your plate, completely forgetting you even had it. "Yeah, they're alright."
He nodded and glanced around the room, unsure of what to say next. He cleared his throat and tried again.
"How do you know Paul and Martha?"
Distracted, you watched as he crossed his arms over his broad chest, stretching the fabric of his red flannel over his shoulders, pulling the material taught. You had to remind yourself to pay attention and stop gawking at this man like he was a piece of meat. Jesus, maybe you should stop drinking.
"They're my parents," you said after a moment, your eyes flicking across the room, finding them with a group of their friends with your dad's arm wrapped around your mom's shoulder as she giggled and gazed up at him adoringly.
"Oh, you're Cassie," the man said, his eyes dropping from your face to your stomach, and you swore you saw a glimmer of disappointment.
"No!" you said quickly, your hand subconsciously resting on your midsection. "That's my sister, I'm their other daughter." You told him your name and briefly explained you lived in New York and were just visiting for the holidays.
"They must be real happy, havin' you home for so long," he replied, and you shrugged.
"Yeah, it's been a while since I've come home for a visit. I was feeling pretty bad about that," you said, choosing to leave out the biggest reason you were there. This stranger didn't need to be burdened with your love life drama. "Besides, they were so excited to show off the new house," you continued, waving your arm around the room.
"Took us long enough, but it finally came together," he replied with a smile.
"Oh! You must be Joel," you said, realization finally dawning on you.
"Yeah, sorry," he said, shaking his head and stretching out his arm. "That was rude of me, don't know what I was thinkin'." His cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you shook his hand.
"My parents always have such wonderful things to say about you. The house is beautiful, I was blown away when I first saw it," you told him. "I especially love the little details on the cabinets."
"Thanks," he said with a soft smile, averting his gaze to look at the cabinet behind you. "I actually did that myself. It's kind of a hobby of mine. Closest to art I'll ever get, I guess."
"I don't think it's just 'close' to art, I think it is art. It's stunning," you told him, running your fingertips over the intricate floral design. "You're very talented."
"Well, thank you," he said sheepishly, rubbing his beard to hide his smile. You could see the blush creeping up his neck and you bit your lip with a grin, turning your head to try to give him a moment. Were you making him nervous? He was painfully good looking, could this guy actually be into you? Were you even interested? The break up was still so fresh and it had been so long since you've dated anyone besides Will, you hadn't even considered it yet.
"So, how long have you worked in construction?" you asked after a minute, discarding your plate on the counter to give him your full attention.
"Oh, my whole life. Me and my brother started the business when we were in our twenties. Only thing we were any good at, and luckily it pays the bills," he told you with a shrug, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. "What do you-"
Joel's question was cut off by a young girl with curly brown hair in a red velvet dress bouncing up to him.
"Dad! Can Uncle Tommy take me outside so we can look at the pool?" she asked. Dad? You looked down when he pulled his hands out of his pockets, palming one of the girl's shoulders to quiet her down, and noticed the gold wedding band. Of fucking course.
"The pool? Sarah, it's freezin' out," Joel said, and she grinned.
"I'm not going in, Dad, I just wanna see," she said, rolling her eyes. She glanced over, noticing you for the first time, and smiled. "I really like your dress," she said.
"Thank you," you said, running your hand down the fabric. "I like yours, too."
"Uh, yeah, that's fine. Just make sure Uncle Tommy sticks with you, alright?" Joel relented, and she clapped her hands gleefully before running off again.
"She's cute, how old is she?" you asked him, looking around the room to see if Sarah had run back to a woman who could be Joel's wife.
"She's sixteen," he said, eyeing you carefully. He hadn't thought this far ahead and hoped he wasn't scaring you off.
You turned to him, startled, having guessed she was younger.
"You must have had her young," you said, the words slipping out before you could catch them. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean that like it sounded-"
"No, it's alright," he said with a chuckle. "I did. I'm forty."
You nodded and took a sip from your glass, letting your eyes drift away, rethinking your conversation. Maybe you misread him and he was just being friendly. There was no way he would be flirting with you at a party with his kid right there. But then he cleared his throat, drawing your attention back to him.
"Listen, I hope I'm not bein' too forward, but are you here with anyone?"
You raised your eyebrows at him over your glass. There was no misreading that. Blinking rapidly, you tried to formulate a reply that wouldn't cause a scene. Was he seriously hitting on you with a ring on his finger? You put your glass down on the counter and opened your mouth to reply when your sister's voice interrupted you.
"Bucket! Come here, you remember Troy, right?"
You cringed, at both the nickname and the person in question, before slowly turning your body towards her and forcing a fake smile.
"Of course. How are you?" you said with a hug.
"Doing great, just got a new job with a law firm downtown," Troy said, rubbing his sweaty palms on his jeans and shifting his weight nervously. He began to ramble about his new job as your sister introduced herself to Joel behind you. You resisted the urge to strangle her, reminding yourself she was carrying your baby niece or nephew and that you'll have to wait until after she gave birth to kill her. She knew you couldn't stand Troy, but she probably couldn't get rid of him, either.
You stood there, draining your wine glass while he prattled on for the next twenty minutes. By the time Troy's dad walked over and ushered him away, Joel was nowhere to be found.
Probably for the best, anyway. You were getting really sick and tired of only attracting unfaithful men.
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You hadn't considered how annoying it would be to have your parents hovering around you all the time, worried that you were slipping into a depression and trying to get you to join them on activities outside the house. After you felt forced to go sledding with them the day before, you decided to make yourself scarce today, which is why you found yourself at the mall in downtown Austin browsing for a Christmas gift for your future niece or nephew.
As you were looking through a storefront window, you felt your phone buzz in your pocket. Taking it out, you saw a text from a friend back home.
Sydney: You'll never guess who i just bumped into
You were typing out your response, chin tucked into your chest, when you felt someone knock into you. Startled, you looked up only to lock eyes with Joel the contractor.
"Oh!" you managed to stammer out. His deep brown eyes lit up and a warm smile spread across his face when he looked up and recognized you.
"Sorry, wasn't payin' attention," he said. "How, uh, how are you?"
"Good," you said, nodding and clutching your phone in your hand. "You?"
"Good. Was actually just thinkin' about you," he admitted, looking down and shifting the bag he was carrying from one hand to the other. "Never got to say goodbye to you the other night."
"Yeah, it was pretty crowded. I didn't realize my parents were so popular," you joked. "Is Sarah with you?"
"No, she's in school," he replied, and you bumped the heel of your hand against your forehead, rolling your eyes. Of course she was, it's the middle of the day.
"Duh," you said quietly, finding it hard to hold his gaze without getting butterflies, so you looked away.
"So, uh, I hope this doesn't sound creepy, but I asked your sister if you were seein' anyone the other night," he began, and you felt your face instantly heat up. Why didn't Cassie warn you?? "-was wonderin' if I could get your number."
"Huh?" you asked, your eyes widening as you tried to control your breathing. You glanced down at his hand again when he looked away and saw he was definitely wearing a ring.
"Thought we could go out sometime? If you're interested?" he asked, his own nerves wreaking havoc as he shifted his weight and chewed on the inside of his cheek, praying his face wasn't as red as it felt.
"Are you serious?" you asked him, narrowing your eyes. The audacity of some men!
"'Course I'm serious," he said with a nervous smile. "Thought we hit it off the other night-"
"Joel, listen. I'm not going to say what I'm really thinking for the sake of my parents and everything you did for them, but I am not interested in dating married men," you said with a scowl. He frowned, giving you a confused look before you turned on your heel and stormed away, joining the crowd of Christmas shoppers bustling by.
He looked down at his hand, making a tight fist before swiveling his head around, trying to locate you in the crowd before he lost you.
"Hey, wait!" he called out, pushing past clusters of people as he jogged to try and keep up with you. He called out your name as he got closer. You stopped suddenly but didn't turn around, causing surprised shoppers to have to redirect at the last minute to avoid running into you.
"Hey, I'm sorry-"
"You should apologize to your wife!" you said loudly, causing a few people to turn their heads in your direction as they walked past. Joel looked around nervously.
"I'm not married," he clarified quietly. You looked down at his hand again and he flexed his fingers.
"Can we get a coffee or somethin'? And I'll explain," he begged, his chest rising and falling rapidly with each second that passed as you considered your answer. "Please."
"Fine," you agreed, and his face relaxed once again.
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You sat down at a coffee shop within Barnes and Noble as Joel ordered you both something to drink. As you watched him at the counter, you admired his long legs and broad shoulders underneath his brown coat and wondered what possible excuse he was going to come up with.
Oh my god, what if she died?
You rubbed your eyes, hoping you didn't just insult a widower in the middle of a crowded mall.
Joel joined you at the table and set your coffee down in front of you with a smile.
"Thank you," you said softly, fiddling with the cup and avoiding his eyes as he shrugged his coat off, revealing a navy blue V-neck sweater underneath. Your eyes drifted to the small patch of bare chest that was exposed and your stomach clenched. Swallowing hard, you forced yourself to meet his gaze, but he was staring down at his ring finger.
"I'm not married anymore, just wanna make that crystal clear," he began, still staring at his ring.
"Okay," you said slowly, waiting for him to continue. He sighed.
"We've been divorced for a few years now," he said, finally looking at you. "It was... hard. Really hard. I, uh," he scratched his beard as he struggled to find the words. "I've had a tough time lettin' go. Thought for a while we might get back together, so I didn't take it off. Then I guess I just got so used to it, I never thought... I'm sorry, I sound like a mess," he said with a sad smile.
"It's alright, I think I understand," you told him, and he looked at you with renewed optimism, encouraged to continue.
"I never took it off because I never thought 'bout askin' anyone out til now," he said. "Didn't realize how that would come across, you just took me by surprise that night and I couldn't stop thinkin' 'bout you."
You blushed and looked down at your coffee, trying to hide your smile behind your cup, but he saw it and grinned.
"Are you still in love with her?" you asked him. You didn't want to get wrapped up in something that would end up hurting you in the end.
"No," he said firmly. "I mean, I'll always care for her. She gave me Sarah, how could I not? But I'm not in love with her anymore."
You nodded as you absorbed his words, glancing around the little coffee shop before dragging your eyes back to his. He was looking at you expectantly, waiting for you to ask anything else that would make you comfortable with accepting a date from him.
"Well, thank you for being honest with me, but I'm not sure I'm ready for a relationship just yet."
Joel tried to hide the disappointment in his face as he nodded in understanding. The first time in five years he asked someone out and he got shot down.
"It's not you," you clarified. "It's bad timing. I just got out of a really long term relationship. Well, I was actually engaged, and I caught him cheating," you explained with a wince, not expecting to bring this up today. "Probably why I was so sensitive about the wedding ring," you said with a half smirk. He nodded quietly and looked down at the ring on his hand, twisting the metal around with the pad of his thumb as you spoke.
"Sounds like we've both been through a tough time," he murmured, and you quietly agreed.
You sat in silence for a few minutes, sipping your coffees and trying to figure out how to end this awkward interaction without making things worse. You were going to lie about having plans so you could leave when he suddenly spoke up.
"No pressure, but, uh, what if we just went on one very casual date?" He looked at you with those soft, brown eyes and you felt your resolve crumbling. "Sounds like we could both use some practice. You're leavin' at the end of the month anyway. Could just be fun, help get us both back out there."
You paused, not expecting that. He had a good point. It's been so long since you've gone on a date with anyone, and it sounded like he was just as rusty. Besides, what else would you be doing with your time over the next three weeks?
"Okay," you agreed softly. He raised his eyebrows in surprise, parting his lips slightly as he straightened up in his chair.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah," you said with a grin. "Why not?"
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Early the next morning, you heard your phone buzz on the nightstand next to your bed. With a groan, you cracked an eye open to look at the time, then reached for your phone.
"7:30? Who the hell..." you grumbled, squinting at the bright screen, your eyes widening when you saw Joel's name. You sat up in bed, fully awake now, and slid the notification over to open the text.
Joel Miller: Morning. Are you free tonight?
You grinned, flicking on your light so you could see better to respond, then you paused. Should you make him wait before replying? Would you look too desperate if you answered right away?
You shrugged, deciding to answer him. It was casual, you both knew it wouldn't go anywhere, so who cares how it looked?
You: Good morning, you're up early! And yes, what did you have in mind?
You chewed your thumb nail as you waited for his answer.
Joel Miller: This is nothing, I've been up since 5. For some reason, clients expect me to be at job sites early. How about ice skating?
You giggled and tapped out a reply.
You: I'd love to!
Joel Miller: Great - I'll pick you up at 7
Realizing you forgot to reply to Sydney the day before, you switched messages and shot her a quick answer before sliding back down under the covers to scroll on your phone.
You resisted the urge as long as you could - a whole fifteen minutes - before you typed Joel's name into Facebook. His name popped up with two mutual friends and you rolled your eyes. Of course your parents were friends with him. Clicking on his name, you scrolled down his page, tapping through photos of him and Sarah that looked out of date. He didn't seem like the type to update social media often, and his page reflected that hunch. He didn't have many pictures so it didn't take long until you scrolled all the way to the end, presumably his first photo from when he joined. It was a grainy picture of him with a huge smile and his arm slung around a woman with dark, curly hair, just like Sarah's.
She was pretty, you couldn't deny that, and you vaguely wondered why they broke up. He made it sound like he didn't want a divorce, and you figured he would have mentioned cheating since you brought it up.
You closed the app. If Joel wanted to tell you, he would.
Dragging yourself out of bed, you made your way downstairs on the hunt for coffee. Pouring yourself a cup from the machine, you burrowed into the couch, wrapping yourself in a blanket as you waited for your coffee to cool down and flipped through the various streaming services your parents subscribed to.
"Hey Buck, you're up early," your dad said as he descended the stairs and headed to the coffee.
"Hey, Dad," you said, taking a sip from your mug and wincing as you burned your tongue.
"What're you up to today? You wanna come to dinner with your mom and me?"
"Actually, I have a date," you told him, bracing for the reaction.
"Whoa-ho! Been here not even a week and you got yourself a date? Don't tell me... Troy?" he asked with a big grin, sitting down at the other end of the couch.
"Ew, no!" you said, scrunching your nose. "It's, um, Joel," you said quickly, taking another sip from your mug.
"Our contractor?" he asked incredulously.
"Yeah, we met at the party," you told him. "Then I ran into him at the mall."
"Ran into who at the mall?" you heard Cassie's voice from down the hall.
"When did you get here?" you asked as she rounded the corner and gazed at your coffee enviously.
"Just now. Who did you see at the mall?"
"Joel," you said, glaring at her. "Got something to tell me about that?"
"Oh, yeah," she said, wiggling her eyebrows. "He was asking about you at the party. I made sure to let him know you were single."
"Yeah, he told me, thanks for the heads up, by the way," you said. "We're going out tonight."
"I didn't realize he was single, I just assumed he was married because he's always got Sarah around," your dad said, beginning to zone out to the movie that was on the TV.
"He's single," was all you said, picking your phone back up.
"He's cute," Cassie said, and you blushed. "I'm glad you said yes, mom and dad already love him, so he'll fit right in."
"I don't even live here. It's a casual thing, we're just hanging out," you told her.
"Yeah, okay," she said, giving you a wink. You rolled your eyes and pinched her as you passed by.
"I'm going to shower, then maybe you can help me pick out something to wear," you told her over your shoulder, walking back upstairs.
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Joel arrived at your parents' house promptly at 7, just as he promised. He pulled into the driveway, checking his hair in the review mirror quickly before sliding out of his truck and making his way up the porch. He couldn't remember the last time he felt this nervous as he glanced down a the green flannel he wore, praying he didn't miss a button or a stain. He was with his ex for so long that he could barely remember a time when he was nervous around her.
But with you, he felt the butterflies the moment he saw you at the party. You didn't notice him at first, but he saw you enter the living room and freeze in the doorway, your eyes locked on someone across the room before backing out the way you came, as if you were looking to avoid them. He couldn't catch who it was, having hardly known more than five people in the whole house, but he felt compelled to follow you. To see if you were maybe looking for a husband or boyfriend. But when he saw you alone in the kitchen, staring down at your phone, he couldn't stop himself from saying something to you.
Joel never did things like that. He always kept to himself, very quiet and reserved. He was content with his work during the day and hanging out with Sarah at night.
For the most part, he was happy. It was only at night when the loneliness crept up, when he tucked himself into his big, cold bed and tried his best to fall asleep as fast as he could, so he wouldn't lay there wishing someone who cared for him was just in the bathroom washing up.
Tommy had been encouraging him to get back out there, always offering to watch Sarah if he caught Joel looking a little too long at a waitress or a neighbor. Sarah was old enough to be on her own for a few hours, but he still asked Tommy to stop by, anyway. Maybe part of him wanted his brother to know that he was going on a date, if only so he would stop trying to set him up all the time with women he had no interest in.
Joel reached out to ring the doorbell, cringing when he noticed it was one of those camera doorbells. Paul must have installed it after the house was finished. He heard heavy footsteps on the other side of the door and held his breath, realizing he hadn't thought about your dad's reaction to your date.
Paul swung the door open, greeting Joel with a deep scowl as he leaned up against the doorframe.
"What's up, Joel?" he asked. Joel cleared his throat.
"Hey, Paul. I'm here to pick up your daughter," Joel replied, bracing himself. Paul just stared at him, breathing deeply as he looked Joel up and down. Joel wasn't a small man, but Paul had at least sixty pounds on him. He tended to have an intimidating look until you got to know him.
"Oh, yeah? For what?" Paul asked, clenching his jaw. Joel froze, wondering if there was a reason you didn't tell your parents about tonight, unsure what to say. Finally, Paul's face broke into a huge smile as he began to crack up, doubling over at the waist.
"I'm sorry, Joel, I had to," he wheezed, standing back up and clapping Joel on the shoulder. "Couldn't help myself. Come on in," he said, still laughing as he led Joel down the hall and towards the kitchen.
"Jesus, Paul, scared the shit outta me," Joel admitted, his heart racing as he rubbed his forehead.
"Beer?" Paul asked, and Joel shook his head.
"No thanks, I'm drivin'," he replied, and Paul raised his eyebrows with a nod.
"Good man, passed the first test," he said with a wink as he twisted open a beer for himself. "Hey, uh, in all seriousness, I just wanna talk with you before she comes down."
"Yeah, 'course," Joel replied, leaning up against the counter.
"I ain't sure what she's told you about the asshole she was with before, but he really hurt her. Now, I know it ain't got nothin' to do with you, what's in the past is in the past," he said. "But just keep that in mind, will you? I can't stand seein' my little girl hurt like that again."
Joel nodded solemnly, understanding completely.
"I ain't like that, I'll be respectful, I promise," Joel replied. "Besides, we both know she's goin' back to New York in a few weeks. We're just gettin' to know each other, is all."
"Yeah, she said the same thing to her sister earlier, but then she spent all damn day on the phone, pickin' out an outfit and gettin' herself ready," Paul said with a sigh. "I'm just sayin', be careful with her."
Joel felt a flutter in his chest and tried to hide his smile when he found out you had been thinking about him all day. He was glad he wasn't the only one.
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"I hope you weren't waiting long," you told Joel as he backed out of your driveway.
"Not at all," he said with a smirk. "You're worth the wait. You look beautiful." He glanced down again at the light pink sweater with a small designer logo he was unfamiliar with in the corner.
You blushed and bit your lip, quietly thanking him and trying to hide your reaction behind your scarf, but he saw it. He always does.
Now that he knew you were looking forward to this date just as much as he was, he felt a little more confident.
"Did you have a good day?" he asked, giving you a sideways glance as he merged his truck into traffic.
"Yeah, did you?"
"It was alright," he said, slowing the truck down at a stop light. He turned to face you now. "Couldn't wait to see you, though."
You turned a darker shade of pink and he smiled, pleased to see that he could elicit that reaction from you, the same way you do to him.
"So, ice skating?" you said, trying to take the heat off of you. You looked at his hands on the steering wheel, noticing he made sure to take his ring off.
"Yeah," he said, pressing his foot on the gas as the light changed. "Thought you could teach me somethin'."
"Teach you? How do you know if I can even skate?" you asked teasingly.
"Just a hunch. Was I right?" he replied, his mouth turning up into a half smirk. You giggled and he felt his stomach tighten. He needed to hear that again.
"Yeah, you were right," you relented. He pulled his lower lip between his teeth and slapped the steering wheel in victory, making you giggle again, and his chest filled with warmth at the sound.
"Where's Sarah tonight?" you asked him as he pulled into a parking spot at the skating rink.
"My brother's watchin' her," he replied, disappointed that you got out of the truck so quickly. He had planned on opening the door for you.
"Does she like to ice skate?" you questioned as he led you inside to the counter to rent your skates.
"Oh, of course she does. But I usually sit it out and just watch her have fun," he said, picking up your rentals and heading over to a bench.
"You should have brought her, I wouldn't have minded."
"We don't have to talk 'bout her, you know," he said quicky, and your fingers froze over your laces.
"Why wouldn't we talk about her? She's your daughter," you asked slowly, straightening back up to look at him.
"No, I know. What I mean is, I know it ain't every woman's fantasy to go out with a single dad and all the baggage that comes with that. So, if you don't wanna talk about her, I get it," he said, casting his eyes down as he focused on tying his laces. You reached out a hand and gently placed it on top of his, immediately making him freeze at your touch.
"She's part of your life, so I want to hear about her. You shouldn't think like that, Joel. It's really not a dealbreaker for most women," you assured him, gently rubbing your thumb over his knuckles, his eyes glued to your hand as he listened. "And if it is, fuck 'em."
His eyes snapped up to yours now, then a slow smile spread across his face.
"Okay," he said softly, and you smiled, pulling your hand back, leaving him wanting more.
"Besides," you said, standing up on your skates as you made your way to the rink. "You have no idea what kind of fantasies I have."
You turned to give him a wink as you effortlessly stepped out onto the ice, holding out your hands encouragingly for him to follow. It was a miracle he was able to move his legs after that comment, but he managed just because he knew he would feel your warm hands on his again.
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Joel was a quick study. He was nervous at first, you could tell that he didn't want to embarrass himself, but he did surprisingly good. Especially considering how crowded the ice rink was and how fast people were skating by. After about half an hour, he was able to skate - albeit, slowly - around the rink next to you without any assistance. Part of you wondered if he pretended to need more help than he really did just so it would make you feel good.
"So, anyway, that's basically what I do for work. It's pretty boring," you said with a sigh.
"Not boring. Marketing in New York City sounds like a dream," he replied.
"Yeah, except I work on all the behind the scenes stuff. It's not really as fun as it sounds," you admitted, not missing work in the slightest since you've been back in Texas.
"Well, d'you work with some fun people, at least?"
You paused, considering his question for a moment, before shaking your head with a dry laugh.
"Not really," you said, but he still tried to help you find a reason why you would put up with it.
"You were able to take off almost a whole month, that's pretty great. Not many places'll let you do that, can't be that bad," he offered, and you scoffed.
"It's the time I saved up for the wedding I was supposed to have," you told him sadly, and he groaned.
"I'm knockin' it outta the park tonight, ain't I?" he said, rubbing his face before almost losing his balance. You giggled and he couldn't stop the huge grin that plastered itself across his face.
"It's fine, you didn't know," you said, waving him off. And for the first time, you really didn't mind talking about it. Something about him made it easier.
"What'dya say we get some hot chocolate?" Joel asked, jutting his chin towards the vendor where you first came in.
"Yeah, that sounds great," you replied. Joel turned towards the exit without looking when a teenage boy, who was speed skating around the rink trying to impress a girl, smacked right into him, sending him flying backwards on the ice.
"Joel!" you exclaimed, rushing to his side. He groaned, rubbing the back of his head.
"Hey, why don't you watch it!" you yelled angrily at the teenager, who had managed to only stumble a bit upon impact.
"Sorry, man," the kid mumbled before taking off.
"I'm gonna kick his ass," you said, about to stand up to go after him, but Joel reached up to grip your arms, holding you in place.
"I'm fine, sweetheart," he said with a chuckle. Sweetheart. Your heart skipped a beat at the term.
"Are you sure?" you asked, your brow furrowed with concern.
"Yeah, just gimme a hand," he said, and you stood to give his arm a firm yank, allowing him to stand.
"Let's get you off the ice," you told him, ushering him carefully to the exit and finding a bench.
"Does your head hurt?" you asked, sitting down next to him. Your fingers reached up to graze the back of his head.
"No," he said breathlessly, staring at you as you continued to study him for any injury. God, you were so beautiful, he couldn't force himself to look away.
"That's good. How about your vision?" you pressed, still so focused on the fall and not seeing the way he was looking at you. But when you finally locked your eyes on his, your breath caught in your throat.
All the laughter and playful yelling surrounding you faded. You couldn't look away from his heated gaze, his deep brown eyes boring into yours so intensely, you almost forgot to blink. He brought his hand up to gently cradle the side of your face, his calloused palm meeting your soft skin. Your lips parted to accommodate your sudden need for more oxygen, and his gaze fell to your mouth.
"Joel," you whispered, and the way his name sounded coming from you was so damn sweet, it almost did him in.
"Yeah?" he whispered back, swallowing the lump in his throat.
"Kiss me."
He didn't need to be told twice.
He leaned forward, eyes sliding shut and slotting his lips against yours, deeply breathing in your scent so he could remember it tomorrow. He was determined to commit every second to memory, knowing that by morning he would be aching for you, aching for this. Against his better judgement, he pressed himself into your lips harder, unsure if he will ever get to feel like this again when you inevitably came to your senses. The idea of this feeling being taken away from him spurred him on, desperate and eager for every second you were willing to give him.
Your hand came up to the back of his neck, holding him against you as his lips massaged yours tenderly. You inched closer to him on the bench so you could tuck yourself into his broad chest. He was so warm and soft and strong that it was making you dizzy. Your fingertips stroked the curls at the base of his neck as you tentatively opened your mouth just enough to suck his lower lip between yours. The quiet noise he made when you did that made your insides clench with need, and against all odds, you felt yourself falling, completely losing yourself in him and the moment.
A startling voice over the loudspeaker announcing that the rink was closing in fifteen minutes finally snapped you out of it. You both pulled back but kept your foreheads pressed together as the world around you slowly melted back into focus. His hand still cupped your face and he lifted his thumb to gently trace your swollen lips.
"I should take you home," he murmured. At first, your stomach flipped, thinking he meant his home, but you realized he wasn't that type and he meant your parents' house.
You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak, and you sat back reluctantly, breaking away. His hand dropped from your face to the hand in your lap, his thick fingers wrapping around yours for a moment as he collected himself with a deep breath.
Finally, he forced himself to stand, still clutching your hand and helping you up. You glanced down at the floor and smirked.
"We should probably take our skates off," you said, and he chuckled, breaking the tension and sitting back down, his hand reluctantly letting go of yours to undo his laces.
After you turned in your rentals, his hand quickly found yours again, unwilling or unable to let you go as he led you back to his truck, this time making sure to open the car door for you. Thanking him quietly, you jumped up into the cab and watched him round the front of the car, running a hand through his hair and sucking in deep breath.
You grinned and bit your lip as he started the truck, swinging his arm around to grip your headrest and twisting his body to back out of the spot. It took everything in you not to scoot across the seat and tuck yourself into his side.
He let his arm drop loosely on the seat in between you as he drove down the street, one hand on the steering wheel. Your fingers inched forward, sliding your palm underneath his hand, lacing your fingers together. The corners of his mouth tugged into a smile and you drove in a comfortable silence, your hands intertwined the whole time, until he pulled into your driveway and cut the engine.
You sighed as you stared at the darkened house, already missing him and he wasn't even gone yet. He peered over at you, trying to think of a way to prolong the date, but aside from the obvious, which he wasn't going to do just yet, he was coming up empty.
"Lemme walk you up," he said finally, and you nodded, reaching for the handle of the door but he stopped you. You furrowed your brow, confused, until you watched him rush over to open the door, and you grinned, taking his hand so you could slide out of the seat.
You stared at the ground as he led you up the path to the porch, your heart pounding in your ears. You weren't sure what you had been expecting tonight, but it definitely wasn't this feeling. This was so much more.
"Well, thank you for tonight," you said as you reached the door, turning around to look up at him through your lashes. "I had a really good time."
"Yeah, me too," he said, his soft, brown eyes trailing over your face, locking away every little detail. Unable to resist, he stepped forward, his rough hand skimming around to the back of your neck. He tilted your face up, ducking down slightly to meet you halfway and brushed his lips gently over yours.
Your hands flew up to grip the collar of his flannel, keeping him pressed against you as you leaned against the front door. God, for someone who claimed to be rusty, he was a really good kisser. He was gentle and slow and it took your breath away both times. You knew you were getting in over your head, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. All you could think about was him and how badly you wanted more.
Nervously, you opened your mouth and flicked your tongue against his plush lips. He responded by parting his lips and allowing your tongue to dance with his own, his mouth applying more pressure than before as the heat flared between you.
Before you could stop it, a soft moan rumbled from your throat, causing him to pull back, panting slightly as his gaze flickered between your eyes. You gazed up at him, eyes dark and desperate, your fingers still gripping the fabric of his shirt tightly.
You weren't sure what he was searching for, but after a moment he seemed to find it because his mouth came crashing down on yours once again, this time with more yearning and desire. His tongue probed inside your mouth, licking past your teeth and in the back of your mind you realized he tasted faintly of mint and you wondered when on earth he popped a mint into his mouth but it didn't matter. Nothing else mattered except the two of you in that moment, each seeking something within the other that you never expected to find.
His chest ached knowing he would have to stop kissing you soon, or else he would never leave. He always considered himself a strong man, after everything he had been through, how could he not? But something about you made him realize he wasn't nearly as strong as he thought. Your lips were so soft compared to his, so sweet and perfect that it made him want to cry because in that moment, he knew he could never let you go.
2K notes · View notes
tremendum · 1 year
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Mr. Miller
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pairing: joel miller x fem!reader (afab, use of she/her, use of the word girl)    
rating: explicit. (18+. mdni.)    
word count: 6.8k requested: yes. here and here :) 
summary:  “six months before you ran yourself into any trouble with somebody - that's no easy feat, considering your track record, so you like to call it a win anyways. but boy, talk about a rocky start with someone. Tommy's goddamn brother, no less.”
warnings: Jackson era, mentions of marijuana use, age gap (unspecified), sliiightly dub!con, smut (PiV, unprotected), creampie, overstimulation, pussy spanking, choking, spit kink, slight knife kink (do not look at me), dom!Joel (brat tamer!Joel if you squint), slight sir kink, so much dirty talk, lots of begging, degradation kink, dacryphilia, mean!Joel, this is just shameless smut i am horrible  notes: okay i kind of modified these asks but I thought it’d be fun to write it like this!!! as always reblogs/asks/comments are always great motivations :’) this is not reread because i am INSANE! xoxo
(  read the sequel other Joel fics:     fever       landmines    )
★  
to be completely honest, you never would’ve guessed you’d move to Wyoming. 
of course, in this world you didn't really have much of a choice of where you end up; it was hard to travel, yes, but there was some guiding hand that invisibly pushed you upon Jackson in the middle of a really rough winter. 
a girl, lost and on her own through the dangerous sprawls of what's left of the United States - of course Tommy and Maria had accepted you into the community; you were resourceful, willing, and strong-headed. 
most of Jackson was nice.
the people were good, the community functioned, and you were finally safe - you found a job working partly as a patrolman if an extra hand was needed, but mostly as a gardener.
it was a beautiful basin valley with sprawling mountains that glittered in the snow even during summer. 
you'd only been there for - what, maybe half a year? six months before you ran yourself into any trouble with somebody - that's no easy feat, considering your track record, so you like to call it a win anyways. but boy, talk about a rocky start with someone. 
Tommy's goddamn brother, no less. 
you didn't particularly get off on the correct foot with Joel Miller. when he showed up in town, people were thrown off. you surely understood that - but it was Tommy's brother, and Tommy insisted he would be fine; he and the girl with him had already been 'round Jackson before, leaving just a week or so before you showed up, apparently. 
you'd definitely heard about him. 
coincidentally, you'd actually moved into the house that Tommy had wanted Joel to have; the house that had the spare girl's bedroom which Ellie came through to ravage once they came back into town. (apparently the towels at Joel's were too rough no matter how many times they were washed, and Ellie really liked that Tamagotchi you'd found in the bedroom she once slept in.) 
maybe that'd already put him off, the short time in which Ellie had found company in you. who knows. 
but unfortunately, your first impression of him was muddled by a very real lens of beer-goggles and a long week's aching exhaustion in your brain. he was large, a tall man whose disposition dripped of domineering power; he didn't trust anybody here and by the looks of it, they didn't particularly adore him. he kept to himself besides Tommy -  who unfortunately along with his wife were really your closest comrades in the community. 
you almost felt bad for him, because that's how many people saw you at first. but on that night, you were just drunk enough, as you greeted Maria and Tommy at the bar with smiles and a joke about your libido, that you didn't quite realize that Tommy's big brother Joel was sat there, eyes watching you with a glimmer of something lurking behind the rim of the beer bottle. 
to be fair: everybody in this life is unkind in their first impressions. that's just how the world is now - 'every man for himself' is an unfortunately ugly reality and those who are too soft to see that are rarely spared the gore.
but when Tommy introduces you to Joel with a huff of a laugh and a friendly slap on your shoulder, Joel's eyes are distrusting, judging. he doesn’t say anything to you.
you try not to be offended. 
"pleasure to meet ya, Mr. Miller." you nod with a grin, your cheeks hot with slight intoxication as his large, calloused palm slips into yours. his grip is tight - your wince is covered with your words as you momentarily shoot Maria a look, turning back to the man in front of you.
"I met your girl earlier. stormed into my house like she owned the damn thing. was lookin' for some stuff she'd found last time, I guess. I'm just glad she didn't find my collection of big-girl toys." 
okay. okay, yeah, maybe you are too drunk. Maria laughs, at least, and Tommy lets out a chuckle, eyes flickering to Joel. but he just hums, eyes glancing over you once more before returning to nurse his dark beer with a furrow of his brows. “right.”
and pathetic as it is, he was too damn irresistible; you’d imagined that stare -that brooding scowl- one too many times in the dead of night, hands down your pants or in a stranger’s bed. 
and it hadn't gotten better in the months following. 
it was of circumstances most unfortunate for you that Joel and Ellie moved into a house just a few down from you - as much as you wished to just never see the man and his censorious stare, it was unavoidable. especially when Ellie showed up nearly day-to-day with questions, excuses, or even just complaints of boredom to coax you into letting her inside your house. 
a week or so ago, you’d overheard Tommy in a hushed voice down at the dining hall trying to convince Joel it was a good thing, that Ellie was learning to garden, learning about woman stuff (yes, he actually fucking said that), and - god forbid- make friends. 
but you love Ellie.
she in't like Joel. she’s funny, and lively, and easy-going once you warmed up to her. in fact, you actually started to collect things from around town to show her on her ceremonious visits; books, tattered board games, once you even found a trumpet in the crawlspace of your old house. it was rusty and honestly probably still had dried saliva from whichever fifth-grader played it way back before the outbreak, but it was enough to entertain you and the fifteen-year-old girl for hours even if neither of you knew how to play it. 
and maybe it was after Ellie mentioned to you with a giggle that Joel complains about you calling him ‘Mr. Miller,’ or maybe it was when she said he’d always ask about you and what you’re like whenever she returned from your days together. 
no matter what the catalyst really was, you just know you have it bad for that man, in the worst way - because he is a fucking asshole. 
but the worst of it was when Joel and you get paired up to patrol together on the outskirts. it means hours together of breathing and awkward looks, silence from you because he was silent and clearly wanted nothing to do with you. 
you suffered through hours of Joel’s rugged sageness for survival, tugging you effortlessly through boulders, lifting yourselves high through dilapidated structures in the middle of the wilderness. he was strong and capable and fucking sexy, and that made it all the more unbearable when snide comments about your youth or your inexperience or your lack of punctuality would pass his lips. it was annoying how hot it made you. 
as the summer rolled around, the horde was growing ever-present at the lips of Jackson county, festering like the moss that spreads along the woodsy forests in the northwest - hence your increased activity with the others who patrol the area and keep the community safe. 
he was a many of almost no words, and though you were in no way the same when you were around people you trust, the man just brings out the skeptic in you - so for weeks, it was days of the two of you walking in silence, the only noise being weak impasses and jabs at the other’s self-esteem all veiled by a smirk or an eye-roll. 
and still, each day out passed with your untrustworthy gazes pinned on the horizon just as much on each other's trigger fingers.
-- 
you're at your wit's end on one Friday evening as you finally return into town from patrol with him. 
Joel is a man plagued by too many unnamed illnesses; the likes of which you so fondly call in your head 'can't-accept-help-itis' and 'stubborn-old-asshole-luenza.' part of his symptoms render him unable to say full sentences to you without a judgmental look or a skeptical scoff, and sure you're not always the best judge of character, but you're confident that Joel has his eyes on your backside every single time you bend over to move your marker on the trail. he’s thought about it, too. 
but right now, you’re so tense you’re about to snap. 
his gaze hasn't left your profile for - you swear to god - almost thirty fucking minutes. like, nearly the whole walk from the first outpost. he’s been staring at you like you’re a ghost, or a second head sprouted from your neck. 
the heat of the summer night is unsullied; though you’re high in elevation, the warm wind blows a gust over your bare knees and ruffles your hair, coaxing a damp feeling to settle between your thighs under his gaze. 
"if you stare any harder at me, you'll get a fucking nose bleed." you sneer, keeping your eyes ahead as you grit your teeth. his gaze is burning into your side and with your words, they maintain their heat. 
whatever he was thinking, he keeps it to himself. you glare at his own profile, thick thighs, sturdy chest, hair that blows gently in the warm air. his jaw, glinting against the lights that guide you back into town. at least he’s looked away from you. good.
your victorious smirk is wiped off of your lips with his next words, the first in several hours from him besides grunts and directives. "d'you have the logs on you?" 
you look at him with revelation. "shit." you sigh shaking your head, "they're- they're at home." 
his face slides into a look of disdain, deep vexation at the task of now going back with you to your own house to sign the logs and confirm your findings for this patrol. "great." he mutters, feet kicking into gear to hightail it up the street, towards your house. 
the heat is swirling around your legs in the darkening evening as you finally enter your house, sighing into the empty air. the lights flicker when you switch them on, and you'd bring yourself to be more embarrassed about the disheveled state of your things if it had been anyone else with you. 
it doesn’t even matter, after all; his sights are set one one incriminating little piece of evidence in the corner of the living room. 
the small nub that sits on the tray by your windowsill seems to be more salient for Joel than the hurricane that threw your belongings across the space. 
your hands fall onto your hips, sighing as he accusingly lifts it from its ashy grave, eyes furrowed in irritation. your flannel sticks to your sleeves in the heat as his eyes meet yours. 
"is this- 's this marijuana?" he's incredulous as his fingers pinch the burnt-out roach, and you screw your brows at him; is he serious? you ignore the dwarfed look of the small old joint in his large hand, instead rolling your eyes. "yeah, some folks call it weed. you can smoke it and it makes you feel real good. you ever heard of it, Mr. Miller?" you snark, the sarcasm spilling from your lips deliciously; Joel eats it up like a man starved, his jaw ticking as he tilts his head. 
you know he secretly loves when you taunt him with the honorific; yes, it gets on his nerves, but there’s a secret air about him that suggests he likes it that way. it is easier to blur the lines between hate and desire than affection and desire, after all. 
"Ellie comes over here every day." he hisses, eyes sharp. you blink slowly at him, trying to fight the laugh that creeps up your throat; his gaze is dark, furious - did he think you were smoking weed with the girl? she's, like, thirteen. (fifteen, she corrects you in your mind. but still.) 
"that’s correct." you confirm, turning from him to search the kitchen for the log you'd forgotten in your haste to leave. his footsteps ring angry onto the floorboards. "if you're worried about that, I’d never smoke around her. 'm not that disrespectful." you defend, avoiding eye contact as you shuffle through your drawer of junk. 
"doesn’t matter. she won't be coming round much more." he threatens it - tests the waters. as if he has the authority to punish you.
you lift a brow at him, "don’t you think she should be able to make that choice?" you throw back at him, tossing your switchblade onto the table to your right as you sort through the miscellaneous items with both hands. 
uh oh, that struck a nerve in the man. 
his eyes sharpen as he breathes harsh at your words; "don't talk about things you know nothing about, girl." he snaps, crossing his arms, "now find the fucking log so I can leave." 
you glare at him, gesturing in front of you; your eyes scream no shit, Joel, I’m looking. 
it's silent as you search through the drawer, gritting your teeth in the tense silence of anger, thicker than molasses. 
you click your jaw, refusing to let it go, let him think he won. 
"I do have self respect, y'know." you pipe up, lifting a brow as you finally stumble upon the log, pulling a dying pen from the drawer and scribbling notes as you plop down on a wooden chair at your kitchen table.
Joel stays standing; it does not go unnoticed when his eyes take in the contours of your body, the clothes that stick to you in the heat of the summer; a pair of jean shorts, torn from years of use, and a thin tank top, covered with an unbuttoned flannel. his eyes sear into you at your words.
wow. fuck him. 
(no, not like fuck him, but- fuck him.) 
"never said you didn't, darlin'." he mutters condescendingly, the pet name leaving his mouth bitterly. any form of backlash you were going to unleash on his dies in your throat quickly when he leans over your shoulder to sign his own name next to yours. your eyes widen to search his face as his own skim over your account of the patrol. he's- wow, he's closer to you than you would have expected. 
holy shit. smoky swirls of gunpowder, pine, and dark amber whiskey. they fill your nostrils, dizzying your mind as you let out a stuttered breath - it's hot in here... your eyes glance as a small lick of sweat trickles down his neck. your throat is dry, heat swirling in your abdomen as he hums, "jus' think Ellie should start hangin' around with others." 
"why's that?" you snap, daring him to say it. fuck, your heart is pounding in your chest. oh, if he just admits it; that he thinks he's better than you, that he thinks you're pathetic - lord, you yearn for it, you’d have a fucking field day. you want an excuse to hit him. or bite him.
fuck Joel Miller, and- okay, fine. fuck him, too. 
his brows are furrowed as he glares hawkishly at your stubborn form; his gaze is serrated with disdain, jaw clenching with the words you're just begging him to admit.
"she's been cussin' and speaking...vulgar." he mutters, eyes flickering away from you. your jaw unhinges as you huff in surprise; he has the audacity to accuse you for teaching her to be foul-mouthed? hadn't she traveled with him for, what, a year? she’s a teenager - that’s what they do. 
"oh, please." you snap, "that girl was far from a princess when you showed up here, you know." you mutter, tossing a look over your shoulder up at him, the buttons undone at the top of his shirt staring at you, mocking you. 
"I know." he dismisses. his hand falls to stable himself on the back of your chair as he leans down towards you, "but you ain't helping. don't need her gettin' into any more trouble." 
you narrow your eyes, "trouble?" you parrot, accusing. 
the air is warm, thick as you cross your arms, the windows open and flowing the outside summer air into your nostrils. "how could I be trouble? you hardly know me." you snap, offended. you swirl with irritation. 
"because I listen. people think you're harsh. untrustworthy." he spits, smirking down at you as if his words are poison that'll dissolve your whole being into a small puddle of regret. but no, it's gasoline; his words are enough to incite your flames, lick you alive with ardor. 
he doesn't like you? oh, big fucking deal. you don't like him. 
"you ever heard of the pot calling the kettle black, Mr. Miller?" you drawl, lifting an accusatory brow. “what if you’re the bad influence? it’s not like you have any more manners than I do.” 
his jaw sets and his nostrils flare from his sharp exhale; you let your eyes swipe over the splattering of freckles that peek out from under the scruff beard that grows; a scar jags across his skin, frown lines creasing his scowl in a dark, terribly attractive way. you’re tip-toeing a line here, you can feel it. 
he can feel it, too. 
his eyes dip down, though you try hard to hold his heated gaze; they trail slowly over your shoulders and down, down to the dip of your collarbones and then over your breasts, heaving slightly with the proximity of the man. his gaze nearly melts the tank top that stretches over your torso and a flood of excitement rushes through you, pooling in the seat of your underwear. a smirk creeps onto your face at his wandering stare - resentful, loathing, heated. 
something in you snaps, and you can't deal with it any longer; not with his proximity, leaning over your shoulder and staring you down, with half-rolled sleeves. his forearms, they’re thick- goddamn, he's so-
"-I can't tell if you're looking at me like that because you want to kill me, or you want to fuck me." you snap, breaking his spell as you snap his attention back to your own eyes with your bold choice of words. "either way, it'll have to wait. I got shit to do, Mr. Miller, and for some reason, you're still in my house giving me fuck-me-eyes." 
"-you better watch your mouth." he snarls, chest heaving as he leans forward menacingly, his jaw clenched. 
you let yourself smile up at him, "or what, Mr. Miller?" you ask kindly, voice dripping with perfidious innocence. 
he sneers, eyes raking over your form, jaw ticking. your body flushes with warmth under his scrutinous gaze; one of your bare legs slides up to rest on the chair next to you, on full display snd illuminated in the light of the kitchen as you smirk at him. his dark chocolate gaze slides over the skin revealed; your skin tingles in excitement under his watch. it makes you chuckle. 
"what, you don't like the way I speak?" you hiss, glaring at him. "chastising me for shit that you do, too?" you mutter snidely, pulling your leg back down as his eyes glare into yours. "I'm an adult, you can't tell me what to say. fucking hypocrite."
your hand presses into his chest, standing to your full height. his chest is firm, hot, but he lets you do it easily, moving back out of your space; giving you an out, offering you a chance to say this-isn't-what-I-want. but you won't take it. no, instead you slide up closer to him, until you're too close. 
"why so quiet now, Mr. Miller?" you almost purr, your hand still toying with your switchblade, the glint of it reflecting in his eyes. slowly, you lift the blade to trace it gently, softly over his jawline, as you’d do with your fingers. he watches you like a damn hawk, breathing heavy. 
the scratch of it against the facial hair is enough for him to snap; suddenly snatching the blade from between your fingers in one quick motion. 
“you’re testin’ my patience.” he growls, shaking his head as he holds the handle of the knife in an iron-like grip. you shake your head, “yeah, well, you’ve taken all mine.” you counter. “so…” you start, raising a brow at the knife in his hands, the way your legs are turning to putty, “you going to kill me, Mr. Miller? or fuck me?” you whisper it into his ear, up on the tips of your toes as the peppering-gray curls at the base of his ear tickle your lips.
a sharp exhale - almost a surrender. then, a rough hand pushes you down against the table, hard. your body is pliant, willing, excited as his force brings you to thud against the wood, his hand flying down quick just to your right in a loud thud.
your head snaps to your right, eyes wide and jaw open; your switchblade pins your own flannel to the table, stabbed down and holding the material and your arm in place. christ, it barely missed nicking your skin.
“depends on if you can learn some goddamn manners.” he growls, leaning over you, his hips slotting between your thighs.
maybe it’s the look on his face, or just how damn long it’s been since you had someone, or just because it’s Joel – but your facade falls so quick and you’re soon keening up towards him, arching your back so your chest sticks out.
“I’m a fast learner.” you promise; at that, he merely hums, his hips grinding slow over yours. you let your eyes squeeze shut, groaning lightly at the bliss of his rough denim sliding against your shorts-clad cunt, throbbing with desire.
you’re breathless; shivers cascade down your spine at the press of his hips against yours, licking your lips to wet them; “fuck, Joel-“ your breath is strangled, “please. I can be good for you.” you try to convince him, blinking your eyes up at him. his smirk is downright evil as his hands fall to your top, skating over the tops of your breasts before one hand grips your jaw in his large palm, squeezing hard onto your cheeks and forcing you to stare into his eyes.
his grip is unforgiving. “y’think you can jus’ bat those pretty eyes at me?” he sneers, his breath hot and fanning over your face. you’re overheating- god, it’s so fucking hot in your house; your hand raises to grip his forearm, swallowing your pride for the sake for finally getting to feel him inside you, “’m sorry, Joel.” you mutter, cheeks squished by his hand.
his brow furrows, shaking his head. a chastising tutting noise escapes his throat as he rolls his hips, grinding sloooow and smooth against your dripping cunt, aching with desire.
“no, you’re fucking not.” he spits, pushing you harder against the table. your throat is dry, a whimper of desire escaping your throat. his lips brush the shell of your ear as he leans more of his weight on you, your legs wrapping around his hips and your own surging up, up in search for some friction, “say it. say you’re not sorry. you like it, I can tell.”
shivers spill down your spine as you bite back a moan, cheeks alight with heat at his teasing. Your eyes lull over towards the blade that holds down your shoulder, pinning you against the table. a hot rush of arousal floods your underwear as you swallow, eyes rising to meet his in a lidded gaze. 
“I like it,” you admit in a shameful gasp, hand sliding up to explore his chest, “I’m- I’m not sorry. I like it, ‘m not sorry.” you mutter, voice desperate, pathetic; you’re swallowing a whimper as he grinds slowly against you again, his hardened cock straining against his jeans.
 his hand snaps to pin yours down to the edge of the table; your eyes snap up to his, meeting the swirling lust within his deep eyes, searching your face with a dangerous smirk. “you aren’t sorry?” he asks, voice dripping with condescending cockiness.
you shake your head no desperately, searching his eyes to see if he’s pleased.
he smirks at your desperation. "you will be, darlin’." he mutters, his own eyes exploring your chest as it heaves, breasts barely spilling out the top of your tank top’s hem. you smile up at him despite your desperation; hunger curls in your chest as you move your hips up against him and his face falters, a groan escaping his throat. his eyes swirl with the dark shine of a man who is nothing less than dangerous. 
the hand that isn’t pinned by the blade creeps up his arm, brushing the thick cords of muscle that rope his bicep and shoulders; soon, though, one of his hands is gripping your wrist and slamming it down against the edge of the table.
you gasp from the roughness, biting your lip as your fingers curls around the edge and hold tight under his grip.
“don’t move your hands,” he mutters as his lips dip low to trace over the seam of your top, breath brushing over the soft skin of your breasts. “or I’ll leave you here, pinned to this table.”
arousal floods you at his words and you nod silently, swallowing as his teeth bite roughly at your pressure point. “d’you hear me, girl?” he grunts, his hands moving to pull out one of your breasts from your top, your peaked nipple instantly tugged between his prying fingers.
you let out a yelp at the sensation and he huffs against your skin, biting again. “fuck,” you whimper loudly, bucking your hips as your hands grip tight against the edge of the table; one arm is pinned with the knife anyways, but your heart thunders as his tongue peaks out, brushing hot against your sweat-sheened skin.
A hand snakes to your throat and you can’t stop the moan you let out, air sucking through your windpipe at the light grip he keeps; you’re obsessed with how all-consuming he is.
Joel’s everywhere – his smell, his eyes, his hands, tongue – you want him to be inside you, you want him to be in you forever, ever, ever.
fuck Joel Miller. fuck him, and fuck him.
“I asked you something. answer me.” he squeezes your throat as he emphasizes, as he demands you; you buck up against him, convinced you’re soaking through your goddamn shorts, leaving disgusting proof of your sick, twisted arousal as you move against his crotch.
his dominance causes your face to flare with heat; you weren’t expecting him to seduce you into submission - you love it. “y-yes, yes, sir. I he-heard you.” you gasp, face flushing hot as the words leave you. he smirks darkly as he pulls away from you, danger lurking in his eyes deliciously as he nods, seemingly pleased.
he nods. “good.”
his hips are gone from you in an instant and your gasp is choked – but he wastes no time in popping the button on your jeans, sliding them and your underwear off of you in one long motion.
his pupils somehow blow even wider as he stands in front of you, palming his thick cock through his jeans, watching you pant hard.
you’re exposed in front of him – your pussy is swollen with need, pulsing with desire as one of your breasts rests exposed to the air as the knife pins you down by the arm of your flannel; you’re fucking exposed and you love it. he’s intoxicating.
 “you’re soaked.” he says after a moment of silence so long that you barely register his gruff voice. you blink, bringing your eyes back up to his from where he’s begun to undo his belt.
you can’t help the light smirk as you stare up at him, “maybe I happen to like it when you’re vulgar with me.”
he glares at you but there’s a hint of something more that flashes through his eyes; adoration? no, it couldn’t be. Joel Miller can’t adore anything.
but then out of nowhere his fingers delve through your velvet, slippery folds in a fervor; your breath chokes yet again in your lungs as you tense with the sudden stimulation.
a low, guttural moan falls from your lips as the pads of his middle and ring fingers rub tight, slow circles on your clit, “bet you taste so good, don’t you?” he murmurs, his teeth finding purchase upon your neck, sucking a mark so hard you’re sure you’ll have it for weeks. christ. “y’want me to taste you, pretty girl?”
fuck. images flash through your mind of him on his knees, tongue unraveling you, drowning in you while your thighs close around those thick greying curls.
your moan falls from you fast, nodding quick, “yes, yes, please, please, use your mouth.“ your whines are downright embarrassing – you’re not a wide-eyed virgin teen, for fuck’s sake – but Joel’s stirring you just right, making you purr with pleasure.
but instead of his tongue, a harsh swat falls onto your aching cunt and your hips jolt at the stimulation, your clit throbbing and the sting making you groan his name. you can’t help the moan of disappointment.
“well, isn’t that too bad?” he snarls, his voice mean. you feel tears of frustration spring in your eyeline as you huff a sigh, his fingers slowly, torturously moving over your clit yet again. “bet you’d love if I ate your cunt. probably dream about it, don’t ya? d’you think about me when you touch yourself?”
Christ, you’d never expected Joel-don’t-fucking-talk-to-me-Miller to be so fucking dirty; but you learned your lesson last time, so you nod quick, eyes lidded through the euphoric, teasing pleasure from the pads of his fingers.
“all-all the time, J-Joel, fuck, think about you all the time.”
and it’s true.
“that’s right. my slut, thinkin’ about me.” he spits, mouth peppering bites over your throat. “gonna have to make y’cum fast, baby. Maria’s probably waiting for us t’turn in the logs.”
the possession in his voice brings you even further towards the edge, catapulting you, sending you frustratingly close as your body tenses, puckering hole clenching around nothing as he slowly works you.
you nod your head, unable to open your eyes as your legs close around Joel’s fingers; in anger, his hand tears your thighs apart, swatting the soft skin of your thighs in punishment. you yelp at the sting, biting your lip as a new gush of arousal leaks from your neglected hole and drips down onto the table.
fueled by frustration and adrenaline and some desperate fire of attraction that’s been burning between you since he first showed up in Jackson, you nearly scream, “please, fuck me now, Joel, please I’ll do anything-“
his hand leaves his ministrations quick, his glare sharp as his fingers glisten with your desperate arousal; they’re soaked. you feel yourself flush in embarrassment until he smirks darkly, tugging himself out of the confines of his jeans. “there, see? learnin’ some manners.”
his cock is heavy and thick as it slides through your wet, slick folds. your breath, panting out and puffing as you watch in awe. his: stuttering as the tip of his dick notches at your clenching hole, teasing.
“Jesus, you’re trying t-to swallow me, darlin’.” His hand reaches out, grabbing a palm full of your tit as he rocks his hips, once again nudging your leaking hole.
your whole body shivers in anticipation; you will your eyes to not reveal how fucking turned on you are about his size - you’re more wet than you’ve ever been in your life and his cock is - well, it’s thick, long, bigger than you’d like to admit. 
“greedy fuckin’ pussy.” he grunts to himself as you hold yourself as still as possibly, one tear escaping as you your eyes clench shut in desire.
“’m ready, Joel.” you whimper, eyes opening to find his hot gaze already searing through you; he just smirks, nodding slightly. “yeah, bet you are, pretty girl.”
he can’t thrust all the way into you, not fully- his cock is too thick, your cunt slick with arousal but still so goddamn tight. the rumbling moan he lets out as he inches in slowly is fucking heavenly.
a strangled gasp leaves your lips when he starts to slide into you, inch-by-inch, stretching you open and filling you full of him. your fingers twitch at your sides as you yearn to card your fingers through his thick curls; his head falls heavy against your chest as he mutters, “s’tight, baby, fu-fuckin’ tight.”
“so much,” you whimper, fingers tight and shaking as you restrain from grabbing his arms to stabilize himself, “‘s too much.” you mumble, tears stinging. he hums, the ghost of a kiss over your cheek before he’s in your ear, whispering, “am I too big for you, baby? gonna hav’ta work you open on my fingers first next time, yeah?”
his dark grin grows as you nod your head dumbly, “fuck- yeah, yes.” you agree, nodding,
his voice is starting to slur, accent getting thicker as he soon splits you fully, speared and sheathed deep, deep into you. you’re fluttering around him as you accommodate to his size, the feeling of him nearly breaking you open as he starts to shallowly thrust.
you let out a loud moan, his thickness stretching you and sliding deeper than expected, kissing against a spot that has you keening. your toes curl and your head falls back as he pulls out, thrusting back into you slow, grinding, deep.
all you can say is his name; it falls from your lips like it’s the only word you know, his hips soon pistoning into you with fervor, chasing the feeling coiling in your abdomen. 
his hands roam. 
they explore every part of you they can reach, his teeth marking every inch of your throat and painting you into a beautiful piece of art. for him. 
the noise of your pussy swallowing his girth in is downright filthy as it echoes through your kitchen; your head lulls to the side as you let out a languid moan, the spot he's hitting making your eyes roll back. you can feel stray tears leak down your cheeks, hot and heavy as you whimper in desire; you're so goddamn close, already, you know he can feel it. 
“y’gonna-“ he grunts, eyes screwed shut in pleasure as yours leak down your cheeks, body shaking with desire, “-gonna take my cock and say thank you, ‘s that right?”
a shaking rush of arousal just slickens you even more; the sounds of his body rocking into yours wet and loud in the room as you nod frantically, the pleasure coiling dangerously fast. 
but it seems you weren’t quick enough with your response: Joel’s hips slow, then stop completely. 
you’re left gasping, eyes wide as you stare up at him in shock: “wh-why?” you whimper, his pulsing length half out of you, teasing you. 
Joel’s eyes meet your own and he sternly swats your tits, eyes watching as the breast exposed to the air moves in recoil. 
“do you want to cum?” he asks, as if he’s asking what 2 + 2 is. your face fucking burns as you nod, “yes-“ 
but he grunts, hips too agonizingly still as he leans forward, “then take my cock, fuck yourself on it. and use your fuckin’ manners.”
you blink at him, spurring into action only after a very brief short-circuited moment. your hips stutter and shake at the angle, unable to move in a way that stimulates yourself enough to bring you back to the edge.
you shutter, muttering, “th-thank- thank you,” but you can’t do it. you glare at him as you move your hips, hands shaking, muscles straining, but you can tell he’s not pleased: brows drawn, a swat to your exposed breast that stings and spurs your hips quicker.
“come on, this is pathetic.” he snarls, fingers gently pinching your clit. the yelp you let out is dry, starved. “why so quiet now, darlin’?” he throws your own words back at you deliciously. 
he stands stationary, eyes judging you, focused on where your cunt tries to swallow his cock, your movements choppy and weak. tears spring in your eyes; he feels so good, but you just can’t get it right. 
“please.” you nearly whisper it, but it’s exactly what he was looking for. he rocks his hips shallowly, your body rocking gently with the slow, deep force of him splitting you open. 
“please, what?” he whispers into your ear, teeth scraping your jaw. resentment and arousal flows through your veins as you let out a strangles, “please, s-sir-“ 
with the words, Joel’s hips cant up into you, the slight angle making your legs coil and your throat burn. 
“please fuck me, y’feel- I can’t do it, need- you feel so good, fuck me hard, please, I want it.” you let go, begging and desperate to give you what you crave. 
his hips pick up a brutal pace. your back is pounded into the wood below you, the cool blade of the knife cold against your flannel as one of his large hands moves you until your legs are thrown up, over his shoulders.
the stretch is unimaginable and he doesn’t give you any time to adjust; his hips are unforgiving, fucking you open and letting your juices of arousal spill over the skin of your thighs and onto the table. 
“such a foul fuckin’ mouth on you.” he spits, one hand gripping your jaw until it opens for him, your mind clouded with the chase of your highs. 
he spits into your mouth, saliva warm and intoxicating as you swallow it happily, nodding in a daze. “gonna fuck you stupid, aren’t I? you won’t think about anything but me for weeks.” 
he’s right, and he fucking knows it. 
you nod at him, unable to form full words as he hits the spongy, delicious spot inside you that nearly makes you pass out. your hands fucking ache from the grip on the table, but you hope he’s pleased that they haven’t moved a damn inch this whole time; even as he splits you wide open and takes you apart. 
you’re so close you might actually start to sob as the crest of your orgasm tingles your thighs, your toes curling and legs shaking. 
he's close, too. his thrusts are getting slower, sloppier. 
“whose pussy is this?” Joel grunts, his movements soon desperate and deep; his tip kisses your cervix and your body jolts up the table with each movement of his pubic bone against yours.
the pain is fucking euphoric, delicious as you grip the edge of the table so hard you’re unsure they’ll ever relax. his finger pinches your nipple and you yelp, sweat sticking to your forehead, “-y-yours, fuck, Joel- yours, a-always.” you whimper, breathless.
you feel his smile grow against your neck and the butterflies that grow in your chest seem out of place with the bruises that will soon blossom on your skin from his teeth, his fingers.
you smile, too.
"god, you're perfect- f-feel fuckin' perfect around me, baby. need you to cum." as his sentence ends, his head jerks up, one hand rising to grip your jaw tight. your eyes snap to his and the anger boils, festering with the desire and lust within his eyes, "know y'can't help it, can you?" 
you shake your head fiercely as your orgasm nears. he hums deep, a rumble from his chest, “what do you say if you want me to let you cum?” 
fuck. fuckfuckfuck you’re too close- your muddled mind spits a barely cohesive babble of pleads, “please, p-pleaseplease I-I’m sorry I’m sorry-“ 
“you’re sorry?” he presses, hips not giving up; your whole body burns as you wait for your orgasm, knowing in any second it’ll be ruined. “look at those pretty eyes. did y’learn your manners? y’gonna say thank you?” 
you let out a sob of pleasure, his thrusts so deep you can feel them in your throat. “yes, Joel- please- let me cum, please-“ 
his hand slides to your throat. “cum now.” 
you swallow around his grip and let out a near scream of his name as his other hand snakes between you; a finger brushes against your abused clit, the combined stimulation pushing you over the edge. 
you see colors. 
your orgasm explodes as you gush around him, pulsing, begging, unraveling around his touch. your voice is broken, mutters and whimpers of his name followed by thank you, thank you drifting through the room.
your thighs are soaked with your own spend and he feels you grip him like a vice; he can't help but kiss the tears from your cheeks as he milks you through your orgasm, muttering soft grunts in your ear. 
"that's it, baby. there y'go, cum on my dick when i fuckin' tell you to." he kisses the column of your throat as his thrusts slow to deep, long thrusts. "atta girl." 
you scream at his words and the overstimulation. he shushes you, thrusts slow. "'m gonna cum." he sounds almost desperate, his body so close to yours it's almost like he's trying to smother you.
he groans your name in a broken sound; his grip tugging your hair. he moves back, frantic to pull out and ride his high- but you panic. 
"w-wait!" you rush, hands springing without thinking to push his hips hard against yours. you can't bear to imagine him pulling out of you so soon - you need to feel him, be full of him. "cum in me, Joel- I need it, j-just- fuck!" 
his hand slams over your mouth, effectively silencing you with a loud grunt of his own, "shut the fuck up," he growls, sounding too close. “jesus, girl- gonna wake up the whole n-neighborhood-“ but even his shamefully dirty mouth falters when he chases his orgasm.
soon he thrusts shallowly into your pulsing cunt before he's moaning, spurting his seed into you. 
hot, thick ropes of cum paint your walls as you flutter, whimpering as you breathe heavy, hands skittering up his back despite his earlier orders. 
his lips brush over your skin as he lies on you, heavy; "jesus christ." is all he mutters, pulling out of you with a slick sound and tucking himself into his jeans. 
you can only stare at the ceiling, the light above the table you’re laid upon swinging with the residual force of your bodies colliding.
a hand falls in a sharp thud to your right, pulling hard to dislodge the knife from its home against you; the notch it leaves reveals the patrol log; speared in the middle with the evidence of you and Joel's digressions. 
oops.
you're wrecked. you're a trembling frame of a structure after the hurricane of Joel Miller took threw you, stripping you to your bare bones. a ghost of lips over the inside skin of your knees as they fall, weak, off of his shoulders. and then he stares at you as you shakily sit up, setting your clothes right, swallowing on a raw throat. 
“‘m sorry about the flannel.” he gestures to the rip in your arm where the knife had pinned you down and something about it makes you chuckle, smoothing down your hair. “are you- are you okay?” he asks suddenly, hard eyes looking almost soft under the glow of the lamplight.
he hands you your underwear and jeans and helps you slide back into them in a surprisingly sweet turn of events.
“more than okay, christ. if you make me cum like that again you can do anything you want to my clothes.” you wink with a deep breath, smiling gently at him when he helps you stand back up on shaky legs. he actually sends you a half-smirk at that, and it flutters along your chest. 
the nighttime air is not so suffocating as you and Joel make your way towards Maria, his hand grazing over the small of your back as you walk on Jell-o legs, faces flushed and sweat slicking to your skin.
it’s awkward.
“I-” he starts, swallowing air as you stare up at him. sweat trickles from his brow and you itch to trace it with your tongue. 
“I actually think you’re not too bad,” he finishes, turning to walk up the steps to Tommy and Maria’s. you blink, heat fluttering in your chest as he admits, but soon whirls around to ensure you hear him, “for Ellie. just- don’t do that shit around her, right?” he clarifies.
you grin at his reddened cheeks as he tucks the log into the box set near the door, filing it under the western outpost for the date. 
“yes, Mr. Miller.” you mock-salute him, smirking to yourself as his flush deepens, the scowl ever-present on his face softening slightly at your smile. 
“christ.” he shakes his head, “you’re gonna get me into a lot of trouble.” you don’t miss the smile that creeps on his face as he starts to walk you back home. 
--
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spookykoolkat · 6 months
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kinktober | pretty mama - j.m.
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kinktober day eleven - breeding
pairing: joel miller x plus size!reader
wc: 3.48k
summary: after the beginning years of telling your husband you weren't ready for a baby, your four year marriage anniversary came up in the fall and you were having a little bit of baby fever.
warnings: 18+ ONLY! NO MINORS ALLOWED!! teasing, fingering, slight car sex if you squint, pregnancy kink, breeding kink, creampie, u protected penetration (p in v), dirty talk, talks of being a mother, pet names, talks of getting you pregnant.
reblogs, likes and comments are always appreciated and loved! THANK U SO MUCH FOR 500 FOLLOWERS OMG!!! this ones for u guys!
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YOU DIDN'T REALIZE HOW MUCH joel craved to see you pregnant. something you found was a bit odd but after being married to joel for a few years, you realized it was more endearing than anything. 
it was like clockwork — every time you and joel had sex, he craved to fill you up. you always told him no, that you didn’t want him to cum inside of  you even though you yourself wondered of the outcome. 
not only did he have a small kink for wanting to watch his cum leak out of you, to think about you finding out you’re carrying a mini you and him in your womb – he ached for it. he imagined you walking around, swollen and round, achy feet and coming to him to make you feel better. to console you, to take care of you, to love you. 
but tonight, your four year marriage anniversary, you felt something different. something that you’d never felt before, something that you couldn’t even imagine wanting. 
joel couldn’t even wait before getting inside the house he fixed up for you, kissing you against the front door with his key jiggling in the doorknob. 
he took you to your favorite restaurant to celebrate, having a couple of glasses of wine and mindlessly laughing with each other, like a normal married couple. but you were feeling particularly needy. 
rubbing your heeled feet against his calf, rubbing up and resting your chin on your palm as his eyes grew dark. it was an exciting scene, and feeling your heel press into the thick of his thigh, he couldn’t wait to get you home any longer. 
you were dressed in a deep red dress that cinched at your waist and acted as a corset, flowing out down your hips. paired with your black pumps with the thick heel and your skin scented with your sweet perfume he loved - he couldn’t stop staring at you. 
“quit it,” he mumbled behind the wine glass, still letting you rub up to his crotch under the table. 
too dim to notice movement underneath, everyone too deep in conversation to acknowledge the couple next to them. 
“i’m not doing anything,” you said, using your fork to scrape against the plate. 
“i’m serious, honey.” 
and he was. because the minute the two of you left, he had your leg thrown over his thigh while he drove, his fingers curling up inside of your hole that leaked for him. 
“joel please,” you cried, gripping onto the seat as your pretty red dress sat above the thick of your thighs. 
“what is it, baby? what do ya need?” his condescending voice only made you clench harder around his fingers, feeling your cunt throb in response. 
“you! i need you, please,” he only curled his fingers at a relentless pace, the only thing being heard was the light sound of the radio and your cunt gushing around his fingers. 
“oh? you need me? ‘s that why you were actin’ all needy in there?” he smirked, coming to a red light and being able to watch himself finger your hole, watching you sink into the leather seat and prop yourself against the door. 
luckily for you, joel had just the perfect amount of tint to prevent anyone from really seeing how you get for him. even though he wouldn’t mind, he liked the thought of claiming you in every way. 
but now, joel opened the door finally and pushed you inside to aim for the bedroom. 
“what do you need from me, sweetheart?” he asked, fingers tugging at the buttons of his white dress shirt after shucking off his shoes and blazer. 
your fingers were tugging at your panties already, still walking backwards to the main hall of your home. as you watched him walk towards you while taking off his top, you shook your heels off to take off a few inches of your height and finally reach the bedroom that was lit by the fairy lights you hung up — ones that joel fought you on, but you won anyways. 
the back of your knees hit the bed when you felt a cool breeze from the autumn wind blow through the open window, and you sat on the mattress while leaning on your palms. 
he stood in front of you, shirtless and unbuckling his pants as he stared you down: 
“i think,” you sighed dramatically, “i think i need you to fill me up.” 
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he wasted no time to strip off his clothes and yours, leaving both of you bare as he crawled on top of you and spread your legs with his calloused hands. you might say that his hands are your favorite thing about him, but it seemed like every part of him drove you mad without trying. 
“do ya know what you’re sayin’ right now, baby?” joel asked, humming into your neck as he kissed and licked over the skin. 
you stared at the ceiling, a smile on your face as you wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed your cheek into his. 
“mhm, i know. i need it, joel. need to know how it feels when you cum inside of me,” you said lowly into his ear, and you swore you heard him practically growl as his hand snaked between your bodies. 
“you want me t’ knock you up? you gonna let me put my babies right here,” he asked, pressing down on the fat of your lower tummy before inching his way to your mound. 
you just nodded, whining as you felt his hand start to spread your cunt. 
“joel, please, need you to breed me, please,” before you could cry for him again, his hand swiftly goes to grab you by your jaw and chin, squeezing the chub of your cheeks together so he can graze his nose against your ear. 
“say it again, tell me again,” he growled, and you bucked your hips up to try to rub your cunt against his bare cock, but he kept you down. 
“fuck, cum inside of me please, please knock me up,” 
you heard something animal like come from his throat, grabbing you harshly and pulling you up to lay back on a few pillows. he grabbed you by your thighs and pushed them up, exposing your sex to him so he could see every detail. 
he needed to admire you like this, the way your tummy bulges more than usual because of your knees near your chest, the way your thighs pushed the lips of your cunt together — covered in your slick. he loved watching you like this, seeing how you let him maneuver you however he wanted. 
still, with your legs pressed together against your chest as far as they could reach, joel sat on his knees and guided his tip between the thick lips of your cunt. he watched as your pussy covered him in your arousal, only watching as he slid between the lips, up your cunt and between your thighs. 
“such a  pretty baby, gonna let me pump you full? full of me?” he huffed as he fucked between your thighs, rubbing his shaft and balls over your cunt. 
your arms wrapped around the back of your thighs to hold yourself for him, and he smiled, kissing your calf and up your feet. moving his cock from rubbing between the fat of your thighs, he slowly let his member spread your cunt generously to rub over your hooded clit, down to prod at your tight hole. 
“yes, please, fill me baby,” you whined, feeling him start to sink into you, inducing you to stretch and mold around him. 
“mmm, fuck, always thinkin’ of fillin’ you up, always thinkin’ what you’d look like carryin’ my babies,” he grunted, taking over where you held your legs for him, spreading them wide and slotting between them. 
“fuck, joel please, please,” you were begging, aimlessly, but he only gave you more inches as he maneuvered his hips to slide further inside of your warmth. 
you could feel the way his cock made its way into your cervix, the way he pumped in and out of you slowly after finally bottoming out made you feel every curve, every vein, the way his head nudged the spot you couldn’t reach with your fingers. 
his mouth was everywhere, all over you as he pumped in and out of you kissing over your hot skin and the birth marks you had on your shoulders and neck. the dark freckles you hated, the stretch marks you thought you had too many of past the acceptable amount, the hair you tried to shave on your arms when you were a child — he worshiped all of you at every given moment. 
his arms snaked under your body, hooking over your shoulders to have leverage to keep his pace relentless. he held you close to his body, using every ounce of strength he had to make sure you didn’t have to lift a single limb to do any of the work. 
another thing about joel — he loved to just watch you take everything he had to give you. 
“that’s right baby, hold on to me, let me make you feel good, gonna make sure i put a baby in ya,” he whispered in your ear over the wet slaps that bounced off the walls, and you listened. 
you wrapped your thick legs around his waist, locking him in a hold with your calves as your arms wrapped around his, still holding you by your shoulders to keep you on his cock. your moans and whimpers would sound desperate, like you’d never be able to have him like this again, and you gripped at his forearms with your manicured nails. 
he loved when you were like this. desperately trying to get him closer, anymore closer to you than he already was, trying to grip onto him, to ground yourself with him. but it was never enough, you could never get enough of joel. no matter how many times he’s fucked you, or had you like this — you needed more. 
the thought of joel being a father to your kids never failed to make you swell with warmth, it never failed to make you fuzzy at the thought of joel claiming you in another sense. to make you a mother, the mother of his children, to have that tie forever and so everyone can know who you are made for — it sent a different type of pride in you. 
he wanted to get you pregnant, show the world that he had you to create and hold a life that you both had something to do with. to show everyone that he is the only one who could give you the world and more, to know that he’s practically locked you down in every way gave him a sense of security. 
the thought only sent your cunt to clench around the girth of his cock, something you’d never get used to be thoroughly enjoyed every time he gave himself to you. 
“fuck, fuck joel, fuck! so good, so so so good, wanna have your baby so bad,” you cried, and joel grunted at the thought as he situated himself on his knees. 
his hands were sunken into your plush tummy, hands gripping the fat of your body to hold up half of his weight and hold you down, as if you were going to slip away from him. he held you to the bed with his hands, pulling back and watching your legs unwrap around his waist to being held in the air, bent at the knee. without missing a beat, joel’s mouth hangs open a little at the sight and moved his hands from holding you by your waist, to grabbing your legs and holding you spread open by your thighs. 
this way, he could see every bit of you, the way your cunt sucked him in and made obscene sounds of squelching, how your tits looked pressed together, bouncing with fervor to each thrust. he imagined how they’d look when you were pregnant, how they’d fatten and round up as a response to your hormones and child-bearing body. 
“i know honey,” he cooed, licking his lips as he watches his cock disappear in and out of your cunt, “such a pretty pussy, ain’t lettin’ no on else have ya, you’re mine baby, all fuckin’ mine,” 
his southern accent came out more in his grunts and moans, losing concentration of anything else but you. 
he couldn’t imagine you getting any sexier, more desirable until he thought about you with his baby. after, especially. seeing you in a rocking chair with the baby in your arms, reading a story or cuddling them until they fell asleep. he remembered when he first met you. so outgoing, couldn’t get you to stay home, partying and doing all types of drugs. to be frank, he wasn’t approving of your way of life. 
he always worried about you, had to pick you up shitfaced at clubs, wanting to make sure you weren’t getting into any trouble. of course you did, there was a time joel had to bail you and tommy out of jail together because the two of you thought it was smart to get into a tussle at the bar with an obnoxious couple. joel never trusted tommy after that, mad at him for letting you do that, but you had to step in and tell him it was your decision. 
after that night, joel let you know how he felt. how your reckless ways weren’t fair for him, how he worried about you constantly, hoping you don’t end up drunk in a ditch somewhere. thinking about you now, asking him to make you a mother, only going out when joel went with you because you got tired of going out every night with your friends as you got older. now when you get drunk you aren’t crazy and sloppy, you were giggly or emotional. he admired your growth, and it even made him smile with pride realizing even though you changed some of your ways, you were still you at heart. 
he just knows you’re going to be the cool mom, the fun, exciting mom. he didn’t mind taking the burden of being the one to discipline and being not so fun to be around, it just made him flutter at the thought. knowing you went from crazy, wild and a party girl to wanting to be the mother of his kids made him warm. he had never loved anything as much as he loved you. 
“gonna be such a pretty mama, ain’t you? my perfect fuckin’ wife,” he growled, almost to himself as he stared down at you. 
no matter what, every time joel looked at you, you felt heat rush into your cheeks. this doesn’t change, not even when your bare underneath him. 
your eyes focus on his, watching his hair tousle and sweat form on his body. you couldn’t think, not even what to do with the rest of your limbs he wasn’t gripping onto, so you just hooked your arms under your calf, and held yourself open for him. 
“good fuckin’ girl, already knows what to do for me,” he smirked, watching you hold your folded position as far back as you can to open your cunt for him, just so he can see the hood of your clit between your lips and watch your hole flutter around his cock as you watched him. 
every time he soaked you in, you couldn’t help but clench. joel enjoyed watching you almost as much as you enjoyed watching him watch you. 
he smacked you on your ass a couple of times, stinging with every thrust he began to speed up with. your breath was being knocked out of you, no air in your lungs as he fucks into you to try to angle himself to hit your g-spot. it didn’t take much at all, especially not even he bent his knee to plant one foot on the bed and burying himself to a hilt. 
watching him like this, have so much desire and want for you enough to scrounge up any way to just be further pressed into you made the bundle of heat in your lower tummy nearly explode. 
“please, please, please cum in me, please, want your cum so bad, make me yours, wanna be good for you,” you rambled, breathy sentences coming out and not completely clear to you, but very clear to joel. 
he felt himself losing control watching you take his length, watching the ring of your arousal build on his cock. he couldn’t get used to how drenched you became at the sight of him, how slick you felt every time he slid between your folds. how his face and the scruff of his grown out beard would always be soaked coming up for air from your cunt — it was addicting. 
because he could be between your legs for hours, until you finally begged him to stop, to let up on your sore sex. 
“always so wet f’me, always ready to take my cock, always ready f’ me to plant my seed right,” he trailed, grabbing one of your hands from the backs of your thighs and using it to push onto your lower tummy that slightly hung over your mound, “here,” 
his hand rested on yours, and watched as your eyebrows furrowed into pleasure, your eyes fluttering and felt as if they were going cross eyed. vision blurred as you felt the undeniable pressure of your release threatening to spill over. you could feel him in your stomach, you could feel him everywhere. 
“such a pretty mess, ready for me to make her a mama, wantin’ t’ be mine forever, let me breed her pretty cunt whenever i want,” he whispered, and moved his hand down to your cunt to gather your juices that was covering his cock and spread it to your clit. 
he stuttered a moment, enjoying the way your hips tried to fuck back onto him, wanting to meet his thrusts with persistence. when you finally got into the rhythm, joel used his two fingers to rub firmly onto your clit. 
“gonna look so pretty filled with my cum, ain’t that right? cum for me, baby, make a mess on my cock pretty girl, let me feel you,” his words were too much for you, wanting to hold on for him, to cum together but it looked like you couldn’t help yourself. 
“gonna cum, gonna cum, joel, m’ c-cumming for you,” you moaned, followed by a heavy gasp caused by the jolts of your body after the knot in your tummy pulled apart and unraveled under him. 
he was the only one that could pull that reaction from you, the only one who got to see you shake under his hold, and god did he love it. he loved how you milked his cock until he felt his hips go sloppy, grabbing you harder than he knows, his mouth hanging open as he winced from the overstimulation of your cunt not letting go. 
he could do this over and over again, except this time, cumming inside of you was an entirely new situation. not only were you dripping down his shaft, but his last few thrusts into you and he came with a gravelly moan, one that made you throb around his cock. 
it was almost beautiful the way he made you feel warm, inside and out. the ropes of his hot release coated your walls entirely, and his hips slowly kept gliding in and out of you very softly. in his mind he was making sure you had a chance of carrying his baby, and even if not, he’d have the chance to do it over and over again until then. 
it’s all he could dream of really, filling you up with the purpose of making you a mother. 
“baby,” he breathes, letting your legs lay straight on the bed, his weight falling onto your body and he traps you. 
your bodies are sticky, covered in sweat and spit, your juices coating his entire groin and the bed. it was lovely, something that wasn’t at all sexual given how unflattering it is to be sweaty, disheveled and out of breath, but still you had a sense of lust and desire for him. love, is what you felt. and love was sensual, sexual, emotional, spiritual — it was everything. 
and as you laid there under joel while he gave small kisses over the skin exposed to him, playing with his hair and joel whispering to tell you how you are going to be the most amazing, beautiful mother there is — you couldn’t have imagined having a kid, being a mother, especially not to anyone else’s child. anyone but joel. 
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TAGLIST
@awilderi @nerdieforpedro @cyb3rluvvxx @joelmillers-girl @pedritoferg @bethanymccauley @subconsciouscollapse @teyamsgrl
i hope u enjoyed! thank u so much for the support and for reading!
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joelmama · 1 year
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The Fisherman's Wife | Oneshot
no-outbreak!AU, no-Ellie!AU (😞), (basically it's pretty much devoid of anything canon, I'm sorry 😭 I just was desperate to see Joel as a fisherman.)(also don't ask what time-period this is set in i have no clue)
pairing: fisherman!Joel, soft!Joel x afab!fem!Reader content: arranged marriage, angst, fluff, smut. summary: The free-spirited Reader is arranged to marry a divorced Fisherman named Joel Miller. And although she protested this at first, she soon wonders if maybe she could be happy with her new husband. word count: 28.2k (yeesh) warnings: NSFW 18+ - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. mentions of death, age-gap (reader is 27, Joel is 48), smut - oral (f receiving and m recieving), fingering, unprotected p in v sex, reader is inexperienced (meaning loss of virginity), lovesick Joel, and not beta'd! (if i left anything out please let me know :))
(oh and an obscene use of Y/N bc i write in third person 😩)
Ao3 Link
A/N: Hiii~!!! so usually I write fics for a completely different realm of content. but I haven't been able to continue my most recent fic bc this idea has been stuck in my mind for fricken weeks!!! and it wouldn't get out of my head until i actually wrote it down. TLOU has just been on my brain constantly these days i guess 🙄 (🥰). anyways i thought i'd write it, post it here, and then disappear back into my usual corner of the internet, never to be seen again 😈. i hope you enjoy my story!! ILY <3
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Far out from the rainy coast of the Pacific Northwest, sat a small island, always caught in the throes of an aimless sea. It was called the Isle of Ardor. Named after the burning passion of love. It was a peculiar name for the island, as it was always embedded within dark, curling swirls of stormy rain clouds; As well as the sour emotions that came with the storm— provided, of course, by the residents of this Isle. So the island was often left without the feeling of love. Neglected, for lack of any other words. Far from the symbol of love that was known by the world. 
Sure, there was the love that was bestowed by marriage, when a man first sets his sight on his arranged lover dressed in white. Or even love passed between a parent and a child, when a mother first hears the first laugh that tumbles out of her sweet childs lips. Or the fumbling platonic love that creates itself in whispered secrets during sleepovers between friends. But none of it was burning. None of it was passionate. It was a simple form of love. A perfect representation of the simple life that was often led on the Isle of Ardor. Despite its exciting name. 
A more fitting name would perhaps be something more simple. Unembellished. Basic. Ordinary. Sturdy. Something to match the uniform march of the adults in this town, as they traveled along the cobblestone roads in early morning light. Headed towards their humdrum jobs that kept the economy of this island churning like a slow cog in the machine. Meanwhile, the children were taught about this monotonous life in school. Sat rigid in their seats, the stiff collar of their uniform scratching at their necks. Forced to listen, forced to learn that there was only one path for them to take. All signs pointed, roads led and everything suggested that these children— Just as their parents, and their grandparents—  were destined for a life of simplicity. 
It was the exact opposite of what Y/N wanted. She abhorred the idea of simple. She wanted excitement. Yearned for passion. Craved the burn of love that left scars on your heart and bruises on your lips. 
Her wants and desperate needs were proven in the way she grew up. There wasn’t a day that went by where she wouldn’t step out of line. Her wrists would be sore from the snap of her teacher's ruler. Her ears would grow tired of the constant reprimand from her father. And her knees would bleed freely from the times she would escape the horrid monotony of life, out into the nature beyond. But the island was small, and her feet could only take her so far, so she would always easily be caught. She would return home with her sore wrists, tired ears and bloody knees, and sit by her bedroom window, hoping for something greater to take her away. 
It never came.
Eventually, she grew older. She matured, and she learned how to stay in line. For the most part. But as she aged, her tongue grew sharper with wit, and she soon often got in trouble for using words that could rival a sailor’s. By the time she was of marriageable age, no one on the island wanted anything to do with her. This all of course was to the dismay of her father. Who at this point thought that he would never be rid of his rambunctious daughter. 
He loved her with all of his beating heart, of course. But on the Isle of Ardor, all fathers wanted the same thing for their daughters. By the age of eighteen, they wanted their girls to find a satisfactory suitor to take care of them so that the fathers didn't have to worry as they faded into their old age. 
By now, all of Y/N’s classmates were already married. While at the age of twenty-seven due to her wild nature, no one had brought any offers to their household for her hand in marriage. Her father grew weaker and weaker as worry settled into his bones. 
Y/N on the other hand was ecstatic by her lack of prospects. Being a spinster meant she didn’t have to worry about some silly husband, wife or partner she didn’t truly care about. If people thought she was crazy? So be it. It was all worth it for the price of her freedom.
And now as she had no other burden brought on by school or a job, she would oftentimes be found by the raging ocean. Her toes deep in the blackened sand, skin salted by the sea and her hair tangled by the mischievous winds. And this is exactly where she was the minute she found out about the news that would tear her world apart.
Her father had found her a suitor.
The news was brought to her by the young messenger boy who would carry the most recent word of mouth with him on his rusty bicycle. Her father had flagged him down, offering a bill or two to find his daughter and bring her home immediately to meet the man she was destined to marry. 
The poor boy. He didn’t deserve to be met with the rage of a mad woman, but that was what he stumbled across when the news of her arranged marriage escaped from between his lips. At the sight, he suddenly understood why she was considered the town spinster. She was angered and chaotic, screaming into the wind when his words finally registered. She looked like a feral animal, the way she gnashed her teeth, yelling about the unfairness of it all. 
Him being no older than ten years old, couldn’t really understand why she was so upset about this news. She mumbled a few things— Something about her loss of freedom and self expression. But it was all very strange. He was used to the usual reaction from young women whenever they heard the news of their engagement. They were always… ecstatic. Squealing like pigs as they clutched onto their nearest friend, family member or even just a stranger. Or if they were unhappy with the prospect of marriage— just as Y/N was now— they were always able to hold their tongue until they were alone. 
Her reaction was all just very… strange. Very different. 
And different, it was. She now sat, stewing in her anger, refusing to even spare a glance towards her future husband.
A celebratory dinner, made carefully and happily by her aunt, sat on the wooden table stretched between them. It was all the distance she needed to ignore the man she was meant to be betrothed to. But even though she could avert her gaze, there was no getting past listening in on the conversation that flitted between this man and her family members.
She had learned that he lived on the other side of the island. So now it made sense that she didn’t recognize his surname when the messenger boy first told it to her. She barely got to know the names of her neighbors, let alone those on the windward side.
He was known as Joel Miller, only learning his first name when her father greeted him at the beginning of the evening, with a sturdy handshake at their front door, the casual name falling from his tongue as they exchanged niceties. As she stood behind her father’s shoulder, she refused to look at him even then, her eyes steady on the toes of her boots. 
Now at the table, the topic of his occupation also arose during the conversation. He spoke of his adventures out at sea, and what he encountered in his life as a fisherman. 
Typical. A fisherman. The most sought out job on this island as they were mainly considered as gods since they provided the island with prosperous amounts of food and good fortune. The people that held the title of ‘fishermen’ were always the most sought after when it came to marriage. Y/N wondered how her father was able to find a man like that for her. 
But as the dinner went on, the secret was soon revealed. Because she soon learned that his wife had left him. Many years ago, late in the night as a stowaway on a cargo ship headed towards the mainland. The only thing worse than a spinster was a man whose wife had left him. And now the puzzle pieces were fitting together. 
They were a match made in heaven. The crazy woman and the unwanted man. 
Y/N felt nothing but sympathy for his first wife. Surely, she was just the same as she. The only reason a woman would leave her partner was if she yearned for freedom beyond the tassels of marriage. Maybe eventually, Y/N would make the score two for two. Leave him behind just as his first wife did. The thought brought an overwhelming onslaught of anticipation that burned within the girl's core. 
But she had to be patient. She couldn’t just leave him when all eyes were narrowed in on their engagement. The whispers on the street all revolved around her, and how she was finally able to snag a man after all these years. Even more speculation was offered when they found out who the man was. Apparently these two were a circus act around the Isle of Ardor. A horrific accident that none of the residents could tear their eyes from.
Maybe that’s why their wedding was so crowded. 
A few weeks had past, and she had yet to grant the man with her gaze. All she knew of his looks was the quick glimpse of silver she saw scattered amongst the brown in his hair, and the hard set of his jawline, clenched in an anger that seemed to always be present. So as she walked down the aisle, her fingers clenched around a wilting bouquet of daisies, she kept her eyes pointed towards the horizon that lingered in the distance.
Traditional Ardorian weddings were always held in the same place. On the cliffside, hanging over the tempestuous sea that always danced near the shores of the Isle. The same clergyman, performed the same ceremony, spoke the same gentle words every single time. She has been to countless versions of this very same wedding throughout the duration of her life. Though, she never thought that it would be her who was forced to stand under the wedding arch. Especially in her late-mothers wedding gown, in front of the entirety of the small town that sat on the coast of Ardor. 
The most surprising part of it all was when she exchanged her ‘I do’s’ effortlessly and without any complaint. 
Maybe that was what also surprised most of the wedding-goers, as they began to whisper to one another. The crowd seemed disappointed, almost as if they expected a spectacle from the woman they deemed a recluse. From the rumors they’ve already heard through the grapevine, maybe they were expecting her to grow reckless with abandon. To stomp her feet and scream out to the gods. So when they were met with this quiet, timid version of the woman, who spoke her vows with no contradiction, they all stood and left the wedding. Completely missing out on the part when the man was told to kiss his bride. Which he didn’t even do. 
A very strange wedding indeed. 
It all came to a head when the man called Joel finally brought his new wife towards the threshold of their (used) marital home. It was a few hours after the ceremony, and usually this part of the evening was paired with bright, eager smiles as newly-weds were finally allowed to consummate their love. However, as we already know with this couple, the night went very differently than the norm that is usually presented. 
As soon as he had unlocked the door for his established home, the woman stormed through the front entrance, her eyes darting around each corner as she took in each aspect of her new home. Trying to find something to dislike. But it was an agreeable home. Comfortable and cluttered with trinkets that must’ve meant a great deal to the man. It was… interesting. So after finding nothing she could truly complain about, and be the disastrous wife she planned to be, she whipped towards him in an unexpected flurry, her arms folding across her chest. 
Her eyes finally landed on him for the very first time. And she stilled. 
He was older. Much older. But she already knew that from the information she learned from her father. What she didn’t know was how good age looked on the man. He was handsome... And so much larger than she had thought. His shoulders were wide, emphasized as he stood in the doorway. His hands looked strong and calloused, obviously capable of working against the aggression brought forth by an unforgiving sea. 
Then there were the features she had only caught glimpses of, but yet she was overly familiar with— due to the flashes of her memory that blared across the dark of her eyelids whenever she tried to sleep. His brown curls were unruly across his forehead, despite his attempt to manage them with gel, most likely trying to look put together for the wedding. They were painted with faint hues of gray, evidence of the twenty-some years he had against her. 
Her eyes tugged towards his familiar jawline. Strong— just as she remembered. But it wasn’t clenched in anger, or anything else of the sorts. His features were molded in a form that looked to be like curiosity. Maybe this was the first real look he had of her as well…
That’s when she met the deep brown irises of his eyes. The sight of which was a drastic contrast of anything else she had known of him. They were almost… warm and forgiving, bordered by the faint outline of crows feet, formed over the years. His gaze was soft in the way he considered her features and dragged over the curves of her body. So different from the harsh lines of the rest of his body.
She held her arms tighter against her form. Feeling vulnerable under his stare.
“I don’t know what you’re expecting to happen…” Y/N finally spoke the first words she ever said to the man who was considered to be her husband, “But I can assure you that it’s not what you’re thinking.”
The man simply stared at her, his eyebrows raising at her words. She took a step back as he took a step inside, but felt foolish as he only did so to turn around and shut the front door behind him. The familiar sea breeze now lost to them. 
When he turned back around, he spoke the first words he ever said to the woman who was considered to be his wife. 
“I wasn’t expectin’ anything.” He replied, his sentence simple and his accent faded.
She had heard his voice before. When he was speaking to her father and reciting his vows. But now that it was directed towards her, it finally dawned on her how deep it was. How it rumbled through his chest in such a way that it settled deep within Y/N’s bones.
She was perturbed by the sensation. So much so that her next argument was lost on her tongue.
“Follow me.” He said, in the absence of her words.
Since there wasn’t much left to do, she did just that. The small house shifted under the weight of their footfalls as they ascended up the creaky stairs. Y/N’s eyes were trained on the sight of his broad back, taking up so much space as he ventured through the hallways of this two-story home. 
Her eyes were soon torn away from his form as she took in the decor of the rest of his— their house. It matched what she saw downstairs. Everything was nautical themed, something common within the homes that littered this island. But the way this house was decorated was different. Instead of the manufactured ocean aesthetic that Y/N was used to, everything about this house was… natural. The way she felt in this house felt exactly how she felt on the beaches that ringed around this tiny island. She never thought she’d ever meet anyone who was able to capture the essence of the natural world so effortlessly. She began to soften, similar to what she felt when she saw that look in his brown eyes.
She squared her shoulders against the thought, forcing her resolve back to the forefront of her mind. This was the last place she wanted to be. She had to remind herself of that. 
“This is your room.” Joel muttered in that deep voice of his, stopping at a door sat at the end of the hall. His large hand twisting the golden doorknob, it swung open as he pushed against the wood. 
“My room?” Y/N questioned, as she stood on her tiptoes, staring into the confines that were now revealed from over Joel’s shoulder. She took in the sight of a wrought-iron bed, a vanity and a wardrobe built out of dark-stained wood. Furniture to call her own for the first time. 
“Your’s.” He nodded in confirmation. And then he stepped aside, letting her venture further into the room. She breathed in the fresh air that was granted by the windows that still stood open against either wall, crickets calling through the crevices, seeping in from the dark of the night. 
She ran a hand over the handmade quilt that covered the mattress, cool against her palm, unslept in for months— maybe years. 
The floorboards squeaked under her feet as she turned quickly towards where Joel was standing. But the doorway was empty. Her words of gratitude fell flat against the air now that there was no one to direct them to. 
He must’ve snuck off as she was admiring the room, assuming she wanted to be left alone. Which she did. But no one had ever respected her privacy before. She definitely wasn’t expecting the courtesy from the man she was forced to marry. 
A weird feeling wormed its way into Y/N’s heart, one she had never felt before. She chose to ignore it as she plopped onto the mattress, springs squeaking under her weight, staring at the vacant space where Joel once stood.
~
Weeks passed by, and neither one of the newlyweds tried to make any contact with one another as they resided in their separate bedrooms.
Since Y/N was now destined to be a doting housewife, no one had any expectations for her beyond the household she currently lived in. And since Joel was avoiding her just as much as she was him, it was easy to dismiss his heavy footfalls that rang out against the house in the early hours of the morning. All she had to do was wait until they faded off the steps of the front porch, and then she was free to roam the house that was now half hers. 
Though after her exploring was finished, most of her days were spent in the garden, overgrown from lack of maintenance, but Y/N happened to like it that way. She was elated to find it, as she stood on the precipice of the backyard that very first morning. And now Y/N could be found curled on the antiquated porch swing that sat among the weeds, a book cradled in her lap, stolen from the office she also discovered on her second day of living with her new husband. 
However, as she relaxed in the garden, sun shining over every inch of her exposed skin, guilt would soon riddle her bones. It was another feeling she wasn’t used to. But now that she was married and now that she knew that Joel wasn’t the horrible intrusive husband she thought he would be, she decided he deserved to come home to a warm meal. So eventually— after a few of her days spent basking in the sun, the guilt becoming too much— she would one day venture to the market nearest their marital home and pick up ingredients to make the man some dinner after his long day at the docks.
She would never actually eat with him, of course— only leaving the homemade food in a ceramic pot stationed in the middle of the kitchen table. But she hoped her gesture proved enough that she wasn’t exactly angered by his newfound presence in her life. 
Despite the fact that she still planned on her escape.
It was obvious that Joel wasn’t a bad husband. And of course, that brought pause to the woman. She wondered what exactly it was that drove his first wife to leave him when he wasn’t nearly as bad as she thought. But the mystery still couldn’t counter with the fact that Y/N was desperate for her freedom, and desperate for a love that would set her heart on fire. Surely she couldn’t find that sort of thing on this tiny insignificant island. She had to escape. Didn’t she?
The topic stayed constant on her mind as she perused the books in Joel’s tiny library (library being a generous term, it was actually just one shelf tucked in the corner of his office). One day, in the living room, she even stumbled upon a great big atlas that Joel had left behind, turned open on a page that showcased an image of the world. All the little squiggles and lines that made up the map of their great big earth, her soulmate must have resided within one of those faraway places. He couldn’t have been so close, on the tiny dot that represented the Isle of Ardor, it seemed impossible.
Now lost in thought about chances and percentages, the young woman paid no mind to the time that passed as she flipped through the large pages of the atlas. The sun was dipping low beneath the horizon, painting the skies with pinks, and oranges. She had yet to even make dinner when Joel had walked through the front door.
She stood quickly from her spot on the couch. As a habit, her tongue fumbled through the words that would leave her mouth whenever her father would return from work. 
“Welcome home.”
Joel paused in the doorway. His brows furrowed in confusion since by this time the woman was usually found locked in her bedroom. And typically, when one welcomes you home, you’re supposed to reply with some form of gratitude, at least this was custom to the Isle of Ardor. But Joel was at a loss for words. To have his new wife, ready and expectant of him was unfamiliar. Especially since she had granted no interest in him for the past few weeks.
“I forgot to make dinner.” She told him, seemingly desperate to fill the silence. Her tone was soft with apprehension, she looked like a timid little rabbit. “I’m sorry.”
Taking in her words, and the sight of her— chest heaving as she stood by the couch, almost as if she were caught in the act of something despicable— Joel soon realized that this was all an accident. He wasn’t meant to find her like this. She had only gotten lost within whatever activity she was currently indulging herself in. 
He caught sight of the atlas he left on the couch late last night. It was there since he was currently making plans for his upcoming fishing trip, but it was quickly forgotten once the threat of sleep had forced him to make his way back towards his bedroom. Was that what she was looking at? His lips parted with even more realization, if that was the case. He had a sneaking suspicion why she would be interested in a book like that. But he wasn’t about to ask her any incriminating questions.
“That’s alright.” He breathed, shutting the door behind him and foregoing any accusations he could potentially throw her way. “I can make something.”
“No, please.” She begged, as if guilt forced her back into the role of a doting wife. “You’ve had a long day. Allow me.”
She moved through the small living room of the house in long strides, headed towards the kitchen. She was determined to be the good wife she promised to be when she made her vows. Even if it was a lie at the time. Even if it still was as she planned for her escape.
As she brushed past Joel, her wrist was suddenly encased in a pool of unexpected warmth. His calloused fingers were wrapped firmly against her skin. In the month that they had been married, this was the first time he had ever touched her. Her heart lodged itself in her throat. Her gaze shifted so that she was staring wide-eyed up at her husband.
“Let me help you.” He murmured, his own eyes pleading her for something she was unsure of. 
“Okay.” She whispered, nodding her head slightly, since there was nothing else she could do.
Now here they were, standing in their humble kitchen, stove hot and burning as they both stood over the swirling pot of spices, vegetables and fish. This form of intimacy was unfamiliar to them. It was the closest they’ve been in weeks, and it felt far more vulnerable than it did when they stood across the aisle as they spoke their vows. Joel’s hand was gripped harshly against the wooden spoon as he stirred the contents of their stew. Y/N’s fingers were latched onto the salt shaker, her eyes trained on the little grain of bitter crystal that was lodged in one of the holes. 
“Here.” Joel practically whispered, holding up the spoon for his wife to taste. She glanced up at him through her lashes, hesitantly, before slowly leaning forward.
Her supple lips formed around the wood as she slurped at its contents. Joel shivered at the sight. He knew that his new wife was pretty, but seeing as she took his requests so willingly, was a sight to behold. Her lips seemed so plush, and the way her eyelashes fluttered against her cheeks as she blew cold air across his offered taste, almost had him down on his knees. His adam's apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed harshly against his dry throat, mind littered with filthy innuendos.
“How’s it taste?” He asked, his voice strained, forcing away the provocative thoughts that forged to the front of his mind.
Her brows furrowed in concentration as she held the flavor on her tongue. But soon a small grin flickered across her features. Joel’s stomach dipped at the sight. A feeling he hadn’t felt in years— maybe decades... maybe ever.
“It’s good.” She replied, wrapping her own smaller fingers around Joel’s hand as she brought the spoon up for a second taste. The touch of her hand was a shock, to say the least. It was only their second instance of skin contact and yet it was so much different than before. Only because it was her that was touching him. Willingly— no, purposefully. Embarrassingly enough, the surprise of it all was somehow too much for the older man. The spoon slipped from his grasp, clattering against the tile, splashing stew across the lower half of the surrounding cabinets, as well as the long hem of Y/N’s skirt. Joel took a large step back, the heat of shame licking up his neck to the tips of his ears.
“Sorry— I— Sorry.” He stammered, finishing his words somewhat lamely. He felt like a shy little school boy, he couldn’t even meet her gaze. It was humiliating. 
That was until he heard the sound of her laughter. Soft and tinkling, with no hint of malice. She wasn’t laughing at him, she wasn’t even laughing with him. It was more like she was laughing at the entire situation, or maybe at nothing in particular. He finally braved a glance up at her, to see those supple lips curled into a bright smile. His heart lurched at the sight.
She didn’t say anything. Didn’t acknowledge his fumbling apology, instead she shook her head slightly, rolling up the sleeves of her sweater, a smile still apparent on her face as she got to her knees and began to clean up the mess. She didn’t even worry about the splotches of blooming red that was scattered across the white fabric of her pretty skirt. She let it stain. Lasting proof of the very first dinner they shared as man and wife.
He served it up in heaping spoonfuls. Steam lazily swirling up from the hot meal, confined in ceramic bowls that Joel had pulled from the cabinets. After Y/N’s laughter had faded from the air, the only sound that graced their ears was that of spoons scraping against the stoneware as they savored their last bites.
No words were spoken as they sat at the kitchen table. And the woman couldn’t decide if it was awkward or not. She was never one to be deterred by the presence of silence, but she was curious if the man who now sat across from her was.
Not that he was a man of many words. He was silent in the very way he lived. His actions were always careful and well thought out. Maybe that’s why she hadn’t heard of him before their betrothal. You don’t turn the cogs of the rumor mill if you keep to yourself. Which is what Joel seemed to do. 
So maybe he liked the silence. Y/N decided she did as well. 
Though it was finally broken when they stood at the kitchen sink, Joel was washing the dishes while Y/N dried— All serenaded by the sound of running water and clanking utensils. That was all it was until his words filtered in through the white noise.
“I’m leavin’ tomorrow.” He told her, eyes trained on the tiny soap bubbles attaching themselves to the skin of his hands. They were iridescent in their color. The distraction of it left the furrow between Y/N’s brows unknown. She wondered where on earth he could possibly be going. But the question was soon answered as he continued.
“It’s the first fishin’ trip of the season. Gonna be gone for a week or two.” He explained. Her mouth formed around a silent ‘ah’ as understanding dawned on her.
Fishing expeditions were always a big spectacle in this little town. Caught in glimpses on her way to school, Y/N always observed the teary-eyed farewells passed between the fishermen and their families. Hands up in the air in enthusiastic waves of goodbye as the ship drew further out to sea, becoming a small insignificant dot and then turning into nothing against the horizon. 
She liked the return days far better. They always seemed much happier when loving arms wrapped around trembling shoulders, a warm embrace to signify how grateful the fishermen were to be brought home safe and unharmed. It was one of the few times this island lived up to its name. 
And now the woman was left wondering if Joel expected her to become one of the teary-eyed family members waiting down by the docks. 
“What time are you leaving?” She asked, carefully setting down the bowl that resided in her hands, it clinked against the wooden countertop.
“Early.” He replied, his large fingers hooking around the faucet lever, shutting off the constant stream of water. In its absence, the silence was louder and the same could be said of that deep voice of his. “Don’t worry. I’ll try not to wake you when I leave.”
So now the question was answered. He didn’t expect anything from her. Just like he said that very first night. It was still a foreign concept for her. She wasn’t sure if she truly believed it. 
Though the belief finally found her when she woke up late the next morning, the sun deep in the sky, shining bright over her bed and warming her skin. She laid there for a minute, staring up at the ceiling as she considered the quiet state of the house. It was silent now more than ever. Left without the sound of Joel’s familiar footsteps as well as a final goodbye.
~
The time spent alone in the little house was surprisingly dreary. 
At first— once the realization that she had the house to herself settled in, the woman was ecstatic. She had never been left to her own devices before. Usually she would have to cheat her way out of the ever-present company of her family, just for five minutes of precious solitude. Now she had hours of it— days of it. It was exhilarating. It was freeing. It was… lonely.
And maybe just a little bit scary, as she curled under her sheets at night, unable to explain away the creaks that filtered in from under her door now that Joel was gone. 
Joel.
The absence of him presented Y/N with the unexpected discovery that he was a form of comfort that surrounded the walls of this house. Almost as if he were the protector of this hearth. And now that he was gone, the little noises she heard at night shifted into dark threatening creatures within the confines of Y/N’s overactive imagination.  
She cursed herself for her sudden lack of backbone. 
However, the daytime was somehow worse. Because at least during the night, her fear would soon subside once the calming tendrils of sleep coaxed Y/N back into her dreams. But during the day, when she was sitting on that squeaky porch swing, boredom would be the next thing to burden her. And there was nothing she could do to alleviate herself from it. 
There were only so many books in Joel’s collection. Only so many rooms that were left to explore (excluding the master bedroom of course). And only so many activities that she could think to do to distract herself. So as she sat there aimlessly, swinging back and forth under a late afternoon sun, it dawned on her that she was most entertained when navigating this new delicate life that she shared with Joel.
Which eventually brought her to the greater realization that it wasn’t fear or boredom that caused the ache that burned low in her stomach. No, it was the fact of the matter that she had simply missed Joel. One might describe that ache as yearning. But Y/N would definitely not be the one to do so. So she ignored the feeling.
She ignored it until it was replaced with the growing buzz of anticipation when the day of Joel’s return finally arrived. 
Excited whispers were passed from mouth to ear as everyone spoke about the ship's return. Y/N had caught a conversation while perusing the pitted-fruits at the market, relaying the information that the boat was set to dock later that evening. And as she quickly returned the contents that resided in her basket— replacing it with enough ingredients for a meal made for two rather than one— Y/N wondered if she was perhaps sharing in the excitement that took over the small island.
Which would be very odd, for she never once felt united with her fellow townspeople, and she could hardly believe that she was excited to see the man she was forced to marry. Though the oddest thing was, (and this was still unbeknownst to the young woman herself) was that she hadn’t thought of her underlying desire to escape, whatsoever. Not even once while she was left alone for the past two weeks, which by all means would have been the perfect time to plan her getaway. But the notion was completely lost to her mind as she hurriedly made her way back home so that she could start on dinner.
It was a sight to behold.
Later that evening, as Joel stood in the entranceway, limbs overtired from his harsh venture out to sea, he thought he was hallucinating. The last thing he expected when he walked through that door was to be met with the image of his wife, looking oh-so pretty in a light blue dress, waiting eagerly by a table full of food. The whole scene of it was washed in a golden light from candles set across the room. It was set to look like a dream. Was he dreaming?
He had thought their dinner the night before he left would be the last one. In fact, he had thought that would be the last time he'd ever see her. 
Joel wasn’t an oblivious man. He knew how she felt about this whole arrangement. It was obvious in the way she would avoid looking at him when they had first met. And even if he couldn’t see the hatred she harbored for him within her irises, the woman wore her heart on her sleeve. He could see her indignation in the way she huffed around the house and stomped her way into the garden. Which was all made much more confusing when she started leaving him hot meals after his work was finished by the dock. He didn’t anticipate such a kind gesture from her.
She was a mystery. But he supposed she leaned more towards the side of completely hating his guts as she was still bent on avoiding him those first couple of weeks into their marriage.
Not that he could blame the woman. He only said yes to her father’s proposition because the man looked so desperate. He was practically down on his knees. And Joel couldn’t say he wasn’t enticed by the idea of not having to return to an empty home any longer. 
But Joel wasn’t attached to the idea of their marriage. 
So if she wanted to avoid him, he would grant her the space she needed. If she wanted to huff at him in anger whenever their paths did cross, he would take the onslaught. And if she wanted to escape into the night, never to be heard from again, who was he to try and stop her?
In the meantime, he would enjoy the meals she left for him.
Then came the night when she decided to share it with him. Sure, it was an accident. And the entire encounter was fumbling and awkward. But it sparked a small bout of warmth deep within his chest. 
He supposed that feeling was hope. Or at least that was the conclusion he came to as he was rocked to sleep by the ebbing waves underneath his ship. He had felt hope before, it’s been a long time, but he knew what it was. That’s all it could ever be. But what was he hoping for?
Hope that this could be something more than a marriage certificate? Hope that she would stick around, at least for a few more weeks? Hope that he would see her face amongst the crowd as their ship pulled back into the dock?
When he didn’t see her, the warmth was lost to him. And in its absence that’s when he knew that’s exactly what it was. Without that flame of hope, he was now shrouded in darkness just like he knew his house would be when he returned under the setting sun.
So he was not expecting this. Not at all. 
“You’re here.” He said, the words tumbling from his lips before he could stop them. A little line appeared between her two brows as confusion riddled her features.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” She asked, head tilting with the question.
“I don’t know. I just… thought that maybe you’d be gone.” He replied, shaking his own head slightly as he admitted his suspicion out loud.
Busted. 
Y/N’s shoulders tensed as the words hung in the air between them. She should have known that he’d catch on to her plans, she wasn’t usually the type to be subtle with her grievances. But there was a twinge in her stomach at his admittance. The one thing he expected of her was exactly the one thing she wanted. And he would’ve let it happen. The hidden honesty in his words coerced the same thing from her own lips.
“I thought the same thing.” She confessed, a small bashful smile forming on her lips. The corners of Joel's mouth twitched up into a fleeting smile. It was gone within seconds. But the gleam of it still shone within the depths of his brown irises.
Then he offered her a small understanding nod. And that was all that was needed. The flame of hope flickered on.
They both took their seats and ate the homemade dinner in comfortable silence.
~
The same fragile routine had now taken place every night since then. As soon as Joel would return home from the docks, he would be greeted by the sight of Y/N chopping up the chosen vegetable for that night. If he came home early enough, there would still be certain tasks that needed to be finished, and she never complained when he would step in beside her with freshly washed hands— the sleeves of his flannel rolled further up his forearms— ready to help. 
He liked those times the most. There was something serene in the way they moved around the kitchen together, as if they were living proof of perfect harmony. So most days, Joel would finish the menial tasks at work as quickly as he possibly could to return home before she finished cooking. He was greedy for more of these interactions to hold under his belt. And he would always be slightly disappointed whenever he found the table already set. Though that grievance wouldn’t last long as he was soon greeted by Y/N’s smile, that seemed to be getting brighter with each passing day. 
Unfortunately for Y/N, she was not granted with the same reassurance. 
As it turns out, Joel was a brick wall of a man, which was a fact he was completely unaware of. So his expressions of contentedness were lost on the woman. She wasn’t observant enough to notice how he would return home from work earlier and earlier each day. Or to catch on to the way his eyes would linger on her while they silently ate their dinner. 
What she did notice was how he never smiled. It was as if he never learned how to. Maybe he had been a sad little baby from the moment he was born. Or perhaps he did know how to smile, and he just never had a reason to. Not even now. Not even with her. 
Which, to be honest, was a punch in the gut for the young woman, since she had been finding so much joy during the times they shared together. 
She tried to be rational, because Joel had always been a very unemotional man. But Y/N’s brain always kicked into overdrive whenever she was left alone with her thoughts, and it always boiled down to the conclusion that perhaps Joel just didn’t like her very much. 
Oh, how the tables have turned. One minute she detested the man she was betrothed to and in the next she lapped up any attention he had gifted her like a small pathetic puppy. She was desperate to know more about the man. What was it that made him smile? Who was he? What were his interests? What was he like as a child?
And why on earth would his first wife ever leave him?
She had found out the answer to that— as well as caught her first glimpse of the surprising range of his emotions— all in the same night. 
There was a storm that evening. Dark and unrelenting as the onslaught of rain pounded against the roof of their quaint little house. Big bolts of lighting hung low in the sky, illuminating the world in small fractions of time. The thunder rolling deep on its heel. 
Joel was hours late. The dinner that sat on the table was ice cold. Though that fact was unnoticed by the woman, as she paced the distance of the kitchen, her bones wracked with worry. This was the perfect example of how her mind kicked into overdrive in times of distress. She assumed the worst. 
She imagined Joel dead, left unbreathing, body lost under treacherous waves. 
Panic quickened the beat of her heart. Any efforts she made to calm herself fell flat. Reason and rationality were lost to her completely. All she could do was to keep moving her feet. 
Back and forth. Back and forth.
Until her feet took her further. Soft footsteps rang out against the floor of the living room and then up the stairs. They paced the length of the hallway a few times until the woman found herself stationed in front of the door to the master bedroom.
Her hand had somehow found itself gripped around the cool metal of the doorknob. 
When she twisted it, the door swung open with ease. 
It was easy for Y/N to dismiss her worries when it was replaced by a burning curiosity. She stood at the precipice of his bedroom, eyes flickering over every surface. 
There was a large bed that sat in the middle of the room, left untidy by the man who stumbled out of it early that morning. The image of his large form tangled in the sheets flickered to the front of her mind, before she forced herself to focus on the next part of the room.
There was a bay window, looking out over the back garden. The bench underneath it was adorned with countless throw pillows, a detail that must have been added by his previous wife. Joel didn’t seem to be the type to appreciate that type of decor. A weird surge of jealousy was added to the other emotions she was already riddled with that evening. It burned bright behind her sternum. 
But then her gaze roamed over the bookshelf that towered over the rest of the room. It resided next to a door, but what could potentially be hidden behind it wasn’t what had her feet moving deeper into the room. (Since it was most likely a bathroom, anyways.)
It was a picture.
Sat on one of the middle shelves of the bookshelf. It was framed in an intricate engraved pattern of gold-painted wood, a happy memory captured in black and white. 
Frozen in time was the image of a young girl— most likely not even reaching double digits in her age. Her smile was bright and somewhat stubborn as she grinned up at her from the frame. She had dark skin and soft eyes that reminded the woman of Joel. Her hair framed her face in disorderly curls, tousled by the seabreeze. Y/N smiled softly at the wild look that sparked in the girl's irises, as if ready for any adventure that would be thrown her way. She ran a finger over the smooth glass, like she could caress the girl's face in her own hands.
“What are you doing?”
It wasn’t the words themselves that caused the woman to drop the picture, but rather the rage that was intertwined within them. Her eyes snapped up to find Joel standing in the door, backlit from the light in the hallway. His brown hair was matted against the skin of his forehead, soaked by the heavy rain. The rest of it dripped off of his clothes as they clung to his skin, creating a puddle around his boot-clad feet. 
The glass of the frame shattered once it hit the floor. 
“Who told you, you could come in here?” He seethed, reaching her in just a few long strides. She cowered against the bookshelf in his advancement but the collision never came. He bent towards the ground, large hands shifting through the broken glass.
“I-I’m sorry.” Y/N stammered, dropping down to help him. He pushed her hands away.
“Don’t.” He snapped. 
“Why would you do this?” He then added, his words were harsh. He looked up at her, his eyes were dark with his wrath. A small pathetic sound squeaked out of her throat, she shook her head, unable to find the words.
And then the next thing she knew, she was running. Was it the anger that caused her to run? Or perhaps her own embarrassment. She didn’t know. But the sudden invasion of his unconventional display of emotion had become all too much. The same feet that carried her towards the master bedroom brought her out into the garden.
Y/N barely realized where she was until she registered the harsh rain that bombarded her skin, her hair and clothes instantly soaked as she ventured out among the overgrown weeds. Her legs didn’t stop until her palms wrapped around the familiar wood of the porch swing she spent so much of her time with. Her shoulders shook with shame, cursing herself inwardly for her intrusiveness. 
And then… Somehow, through the howling wind, Y/N had heard her name. 
She whipped her head towards the house to see that Joel had followed her. He charged through the storm, through the vegetation that whipped wildly in the wind, until he reached her. She expected more of his anger.
Instead she was met with two large hands cupping her cheeks.
“Are you hurt?” He asked over the raging of the storm, before she could make any questions of her own.
“I— what?” She faltered, her hands instinctively moving up to caress the skin of his wrists.
“Are you alright?” He repeated himself with new words, his brown eyes flickering over each feature of her face, as if he was making sure each part of her was still there. 
“It’s only rain. Of course I’m alright.” She answered, a bit impatiently. Did he really think so little of her and her competence?
“You certain?” He asked, and that’s when Y/N took notice of the panic that resided in his brown irises. His breathing was dissonant and in a sense, frightened. This was something else entirely.
“Joel.” She said her tone shifted drastically from annoyance to something much softer. But his movements were still frantic as he searched her for any injuries.
“Joel!” She said again, louder this time, hoping to gain his attention. When she didn’t, Y/N tightened her grip around the wrist of his right hand, and shifted it towards her beating heart. She hoped he could feel the proof of her life that thrummed against the skin of her chest. 
The evidence of her heartbeat calmed Joel down, his breathing evened out.
“I’m fine.” She murmured, tilting her chin to kiss the palm of his left hand. She was unsure of what brought her to do it, but it seemed to help as Joel then pulled her into his chest, his strong arms wrapping around her shoulders. He sighed once he felt her weight against him.
“I’m alright.” She reiterated into his soaked flannel. His arms wound tighter around her.
And then they were back inside. To her objection, he had made her take a shower, to extinguish any chill that the rain might have instilled in her bones. She almost got away with not taking one until her chattering teeth proved her otherwise. He had given her such a demanding look that she had no other choice but to do as he said. 
So once she was showered and dressed in warm pajamas, (and once he did the same). They were now sitting in the living room. Her knees were curled up to her chest as she sat on the couch, Joel’s feet were solid against the patterned rug that sat beneath them, in an armchair angled directly in front of her. Their usual silence had found them again. Was it comfortable or not? Y/N had yet to find out. Joel broke it before she could.
“I’m sorry.” He told her, his cheeks pink with shame and his eyes averted to the ground. She shook her head in defiance to his apology, even though she knew he couldn’t see her.
“No, it was my—” She tried to counter. But he pursed his lips, causing her to promptly keep her mouth shut.
“I shouldn’t’ve yelled at you like that.” He said after a brief pause.
“It was well deserved.” Y/N admitted, lifting her shoulders in a shrug. “I shouldn’t have entered your room.”
Joel shook his head the same way she did, only slightly, but Y/N caught it.
“It was about time, anyways.” He commented. She resisted the urge to pry for more, cause she knew that eventually he would indulge in her curiosities. And he did.
“She was my daughter.” He murmured, knuckles white from his grip on the arms of the plush leather chair he was sitting upon.
“The girl. In the picture.” Joel clarified when he was met with her silence. But Y/N already knew that. Her silence to his explanation was due to the word he used. Was.
She repeated it out loud, in the form of a question. 
A sigh escaped Joel's lips, he leaned forward, his forearms resting on his knees. He still wouldn’t meet Y/N’s gaze.
“Do you remember that storm twelve years ago?” Joel questioned, his palm running over his forehead as he prepared himself to tell this story. Y/N responded with a soft ‘yes.’ It was a horrible, outrageous storm that caused so much damage to their little town. So much loss and heartache that hung over the island, even to this day. She was fifteen years old. The fear of it all was still present in her memories.
“Well, my daughter… Sarah. She…” His voice cracked, he dragged in a shuddering breath. “Somehow she got outside. Debris from the old farmhouse across the street was picked up by the wind. Pierced right through her—” 
A sharp sob interrupted his sentence. Y/N wasted no time. She pushed up from her spot on the couch and was on her knees, sitting in front of him in a moment's notice. Her hands were splayed across his own thick thighs, she squeezed her digits around the muscles in reassurance. He didn’t need to say anything more. The picture was painted.
“She was nine years old.” Joel whispered into the hand that was still hiding his features, finding the courage to speak more about it once he felt her touch through the fabric of his pajama pants. “Nine years old, and she lost her life.”
And now everything was clear. It made sense why he was so scared for her life out there in the garden. He had experienced a loss like that before. A cruel twist of fate that took the life of his daughter. Right in his front yard.
“I wish every day that it was me instead of her.” He admitted, more sobs wracking through his body, large shoulders shaking.
It was peculiar to see him like this. Usually he was such a vision of strength, but now that these emotions were presented to Y/N, everything made so much more sense. He was hiding himself. Scared of more loss, if he opened his heart up to anyone else. This was only more confirmed as he continued.
“My wife— My first wife, she couldn't handle the loss of our daughter.” Joel relayed, “I don’t think she was happy with me. Not until Sarah was born. And once she was gone… She didn’t have a reason to stay…”
His words died in the air after that. But yet again there was no need to continue. Y/N understood. And all she could do was shift her hands so that her arms were now wrapped around his neck. She pulled Joel in as close as she could, her waist now fitted between his thighs. He clutched onto her in return, fingers gripping into her nightgown. His head resting in the crook of her neck, mouth pressed against the tendon. 
“I won’t leave you.” Y/N whispered into his hair, still damp from the recent shower. 
She wasn’t exactly sure what brought her to say those words, but once they were hanging in the air she knew them to be true. And she knew he did too once she felt his lips form into a distinguishable kiss against her skin. It was faint, but the spark of it lingered, and it changed everything.
~
A few months had passed since the night of the storm and a lot had changed for the woman, at least inwardly. But their routine? It was all the same. They would make dinner, share in their comfortable silence (sometimes punctuated with lighthearted conversation) and then they’d return to their separate bedrooms. Every. Single. Night. Nothing more, nothing less.
It was a bit frustrating to say the least. 
And then he would leave every few weeks, on a venture out at sea. Where he would be gone for days at a time. And of course, she would miss him terribly. But would Y/N accompany him to the docks whenever he would leave? No. Would she ever be there to greet him home? Also no.
So it was safe to say that the blame was partially on her. Which frustrated the woman even further, because now she couldn’t even rely on the fact that the indifference was all one sided. Her actions apparently proved otherwise.
But what was it that she wanted to change? Maybe she expected their conversations to be much lengthier now that they had crossed the boundaries of hidden grievances. Or maybe she expected him to extend an invitation to sleep in his bedroom, now that they had participated in small instances of physical touch. Whatever it was, Y/N only knew one thing.
It had seemed they were still stuck at square one.
And with every one step forward there were three steps back. Not so long ago they were so close, lips against skin in the quiet of their living room. Safe in each other's arms as the storm raged on. But now? There was nothing. 
She resented the fact that she was falling into the wants and desires of the common Ardorian townsman. It all seemed very mundane against the aspirations she held close to her heart before she was married. But as she stewed in these feelings— especially during the times that Joel was away— she wondered if these desires were just part of the human experience. Perhaps they were even the desires that came with the burning passionate love she yearned for…
Now that she knew what it felt like. It all seemed so natural. You meet the one who befuddles your heart and soul and all you want is… more, more, more.
Would she ever get what she was hoping for?
Maybe she could, if she was brave enough. 
The opportunity presented itself the eve of Joel’s next expedition. 
He had gotten home early that day, so he was around to help finish up dinner. Y/N remembered being unable to look away as his large hands sliced each potato that needed to be added to the pot. He was attentive with his actions, just as he always was. She was jealous of the knife that resided gently in his grasp. Heat burned under her cheeks at her desperation.
Of course every detail of her wants and needs went unnoticed by Joel. Everything about their usual marital customs went off without a hitch, why should he think anything different could happen?
They ate their meal in silence. They cleaned up after themselves, as always. And then they slowly made their way up the stairs, just like they did every night. 
Joel stopped on the landing at the top. Y/N followed his actions. This wasn’t unusual, the same thing happened on every eve of his long departures. He stood, towering above her, she looked up at him with hopeful eyes.
“I’ll be gone before you wake up.” He told her, his voice gruff. She nodded, once. Simple and to the point. Just like always.
Joel nodded back in confirmation and then turned to go, like a captain dismissing his subordinate. It was all very formal. Almost passionless, which was such a great contradiction to what the young woman was feeling inside of her chest. She was just about ready to burst. So even though she wasn’t exactly intending on doing so— she wasn’t surprised when her hand shot out to clasp her fingers around his wrist, stopping him before he disappeared into the secret confines of his bedroom. 
“You okay?” Joel asked, once he was facing her again. His eyebrows were furrowed in concern, but that wasn’t the way she wanted him to look at her. She shook her head, but it wasn’t an answer to his question. It was more like she was trying to tell him that that was the wrong thing to ask. Or rather, the wrong thing to do. 
“What’s wrong?” He inquired. 
As it turned out, Joel was not a mind-reader. And since Y/N was too afraid to speak out loud about any of her desires, she did the next thing she could think of. 
Her hands moved to grasp firmly against the lapels of his flannel. The floorboards beneath her creaked as she shifted onto her toes. She pulled Joel closer— closer than he’s ever been. She squeezed her eyes shut— almost like she was terrified when really this was all she wanted— and then before either of them knew it, she slotted her mouth against his own in a fervid kiss.
Joel stilled under the soft touch of her lips, surprised by the action, heart thrumming in his chest as he wondered if this was real. But the hesitation only lasted a split second before he reciprocated her kiss, leaning into her. The eagerness of which had caused their bodies to shift so that Y/N’s back was against the wall. She gasped against his lips, the grip on his shirt loosening.
He pulled away, but only slightly. His nose brushed against hers as he searched her eyes for any protests. He only found her pupils blown out with lust, paired with an indiscernible nod, a concession to keep going. 
In an instant, his large hands were now cupping her face, calluses rough on her skin but she didn’t mind— in fact she relished in it. Her fingers twisted into his shirt once again as he traced her bottom lip with his tongue, pulling another soft gasp from her. He used that to his advantage, slipping his tongue against hers. She whimpered at the taste of him, earning a groan that rumbled deep in Joel’s chest, each of her sweet sounds causing an involuntary twitch from behind the zipper of his pants. 
Joel was becoming more eager, selfish for more of that saccharine sound, his hands started to inch downwards. Smoothing over the curve of her neck, following the path of her shoulders, trailing down her arms, until his hands rested near the small of her back. He pulled her in closer, away from the wall. His fingers clutched onto the fabric of her dress. In a haze, he gathered more and more of the cotton within his hands, unknowingly exposing Y/N’s skin as he did.
She shivered as the back of her thighs met the frigid air, and soon almost the curve of her ass. It brought more attention to the heat that was pooling between her legs— A more intense version of a feeling that she’s only felt a few times before. It was harsh and greedy and it only grew stronger as Joel detached himself from her lips.
A whine spilled over her tongue at the loss, but all was forgiven when he began to press ardent kisses to the skin of her neck. She arched her back into his large frame, bringing notice to her nipples pebbling under the lace of her bra, another moan escaped her lips. He returned the noise with his own grunt of pleasure as his beard scratched against her supple skin. Suddenly she was aware of every single part of him. 
His lips sucking softly at the skin just below her jawline. His flannel-clad chest was strong and solid underneath her hands, heartbeat pulsing into her palms. His own larger hands pulled her closer between every groan that vibrated through his throat. And then there was the hard heat of him pressed against her lower stomach.
The sign of his arousal had caused an ache so deep within her core that it shocked her. It was new and exciting, but it was overwhelming and it made her afraid of the strength that her desires possessed. The burn of shame licked white hot against her skin. 
Joel— unaware of her inner turmoil as his lips kissed against the tendons in her neck— was given quite a shock when her hands pushed him away with surprising strength. He stumbled backwards, back hitting the other wall of the hallway. His eyes were wide and fearful that he did something wrong. Cheeks splotched a pretty color of pink and his lips swollen from her kiss.
Y/N covered her face with her hands, embarrassment and immense arousal caused her shoulders to tremble.
“I’m sorry.” She squeaked between her fingers, “Um, Thank you for… that, but I should…”
She backed away as she spoke, her sentence unfinished as she quickly escaped through the door to her bedroom. It slammed shut, abrasive in the action itself. 
Joel stood with his back flush against the wall and a harsh strain against his zipper as he stared dumbfounded at the wood of her closed door.
~
Her humiliation kept her within the boundaries of her room the entire morning that next day, refusing to step even one foot out into the rest of the house until she knew Joel was gone. The sounds of his footsteps came and went just like they did every time he left for the docks. But Y/N’s dread seemed to have projected itself into the way time moved.
It felt like ages before he was actually gone, almost to the point where it felt like he was dragging his feet, hesitating to go. Like he was waiting for something to happen.
But that couldn’t have been the case, because Joel had his morning routine down to an art. So Y/N was convinced it was her own hallucination that caused time to move at such a snail’s pace.
Once the sound of the front door swinging shut rattled the foundation of their home, Y/N finally allowed herself to breathe. Just his very presence within this house— even separated by walls and other rooms— had such a strong effect on her that she couldn’t let herself recount the events of last night until she was certain she was completely alone. 
And once those images returned to the forefront of her mind, she immediately pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes. 
Though that only made the memory of it stronger through the stars that burst behind her eyelids from the hard press of her hands. A frustrated whine escaped her lips as she squirmed in her sheets. The movement of it caused her to take notice of the slick pooling in her panties, ever present since the first touch of Joel’s lips.  
She rubbed her thighs together, trying to relieve some of the ache (though of course her efforts fell flat). 
How was this at all possible? How was Joel able to pull such aggressive lust from just one single heated interaction? 
Maybe it was because no one had ever touched her like that before.
The awkward, clumsy kisses she had shared with others in the past couldn’t hold a candle to what Joel had done to her. Forgotten was the memory of her very first kiss, which was frail and timid like a wounded bird. Or those later in life which were nice and gentle, but nothing special. Those moments of her past were now replaced by a roaring beast of want and desire. Joel had made her feel like the world had shifted on its axis, that he shifted it himself with his own two calloused hands. Just for her. And that was only with the touch of his lips. What else was he capable of doing? 
The sheets rustled under Y/N’s weight as she quickly sat up in bed, regret stirring deep in her belly. She just realized— what with the way she reacted last night— she may never be able to find out. It was such a monumental milestone for their steady forming relationship and she had ended it by pushing him away and leaving him behind in the dark shadows of the hallway. She hadn’t even spared a glance in his direction, his reaction to her abrupt dismissal will remain forever unknown.
Or at least until he returns home.
But that wouldn’t be for another three days. Sure, luck was on the girls side since it was on the shorter side of his usual expeditions. But seventy-two hours left a lot of room for her overactive imagination to run rampant. 
And she was now stewing on the outlandish conclusion that based on her reaction Joel would never want to touch her again. The frustration of that notion followed her throughout her morning.
It prickled at her skin as she stood in the shower, the hot water not doing enough to wash it away. Her skin was practically rubbed raw by the time she stepped out into the steamy bathroom, her hopes to scrub away her humiliation going down the drain, along with the lavender scented soap bubbles. 
It caused her hands to shake, as she tugged the soft green fabric of her favorite dress over her head, the skirt of it swirling around her ankles as it fell into place. Y/N had thought if she wore her favorite clothing item that she might feel better about the whole situation.
But it didn’t help.
In fact, none of the aspects of her usual morning routine had helped her calm her beating heart, or her racing mind, or even the arousal between her legs— that, yes, was still there despite her forcing away any reminder of how it felt to have Joel’s lips on her skin.
She now stood at the kitchen counter, her eyes clenched shut as she begged her brain to conjure up any other image. But that just brought up a confusing mixture of childhood memories intertwined with the heavy sound of Joel’s breathing in her ear. Which made her feel shameful as she felt so much more different than the young restless girl she was back then. Was this the loss of her innocence? She supposed it was.
But then again, she was married to Joel. And these feelings were quite expected for a wife to feel towards her husband. There was no reason for her to feel ashamed by these thoughts, especially if they seemed reciprocated— brought forth by the evidence she felt last night pressing against her stomach.
The reminder brought heat up to her cheeks and that very same ache deep in her core when she had first felt it. 
Y/N breathed in the air around her, dragging it into her lungs, pushing it out in a heavy wistful sigh. A flash of Joel’s hands flitted across her mind. Goosebumps littered her skin as she recalled the way his fingertips felt on the skin between her neck and shoulder. 
Subconsciously she brought her own fingers to that very same spot. Tilting her head, she dragged her fingernails over her skin in slow circles, causing shivers to run up and down the length of her spine. She imagined how Joel’s hand was soon replaced by the soft touch of his lips, and her hand moved to her collarbone, a place she wished he had discovered with his tongue. Another sigh left her lips as her imagination replaced her hand with Joel’s. Her eyes were closed again, softer this time as she conjured up the fantasy.
Lips against skin. Hands wandering. Breathing heavy.
Though the tantalizing image soon vanished into the air like a bubble popping, when the sound of the front door slamming shut rang out through the tiny house. A gasp slipped from between her lips as she whipped around towards the intrusion. Her palm flush against her chest to calm her beating heart.
The sight of Joel standing in the doorway knocked the air out of Y/N’s lungs. It was as if her improper thoughts had manifested him to be standing right there in front of her. The curls of his hair were askew, as if he had been running his fingers through it, over and over. His large chest was heaving with slow heavy breaths, the same way her own chest was moving. 
He swallowed, the adam's apple in his throat bobbing. He shook his head slightly, his brows furrowed, and then he looked back towards the door he just walked through. As if he hadn’t realized where he came from or what he was doing.
“Joel?” She questioned, her tone was breathless, desperate for something to fill the silence and tension that was slowly forming between them.
“’m sorry.” He breathed, when he turned back to her, his eyes shining with something that Y/N couldn’t quite place. Was it surprise? Curiosity? “Didn’t mean to scare ya.”
“What are you doing here?” She asked, somehow feeling brave enough to take a step forward. “I thought you were leaving on your trip?”
“I was— or I am.” He stumbled through the words. “It just got delayed for a couple hours. There were some last minute repairs needed on the ship…”
“And you had enough time to come back?” She questioned.
Joel paused, swallowing again. His eyes scaled over Y/N, taking in the look that resided behind her irises, the way she was breathing heavily, and how that green dress caressed her curves. She looked like she had just been caught in the act of something inappropriate, despite her just standing in the kitchen. An endeavor that was innocent in and of itself. But— god— the look of her, standing there in the golden light streaming in from the window above the sink, she looked downright sinful. Or maybe that was his own lust taking control and projecting itself onto her.
A lust that had kept him on edge this entire morning. Throughout the night too, when he was restless in his bed— remembering what happened between them— tossing and turning like the ocean tide. It never relented, so much so that when Tommy told him they had a few extra hours, Joel’s feet were already moving back towards his truck so that he could spend that time with Y/N. In this house. And even though he told himself to behave when he walked through the front door, It persisted. Even now as he stood in front of her, taking in the sight of her blown out pupils, eyes darkened with what he hoped was that very same lust. 
“I forgot somethin’” He then said, as he realized she was still expecting an answer. “Had to come back to get it.”
“Oh… alright.” She replied, blinking as if she were just pulled from a trance. “What was it? I can help you look for it.”
Joel shook his head, deliberately this time. He took a step forward, the tension growing thicker as he did. His brown eyes held her stare. “I know where it is.”
His words were soft as they rolled off his tongue, causing an involuntary shiver to forge its way through Y/N’s bones. It was much more forceful than what she had felt under her own touch, only a few minutes prior. Joel must have taken notice of the effect that his voice had over her body, as he dragged in a low shuddering breath.
He took another step forward. And then another. And another, until he joined her in the kitchen, standing right in front of her, their chests only centimeters apart. Y/N had to tilt her head up to be able to look him in the eye. Which she was shocked she was brave enough to do, considering how he looked like he wanted to devour her.
“What are you doing?” She whispered, her eyes flicking down to his mouth as Joel dragged his tongue over his bottom lip. The sight of it was magnetic, pulling her in so that her chest was now brushing against his with every breath. 
“Tell me to stop.” He said, his voice in that same hushed tone. “Tell me to stop, and I will.”
Y/N, defiant in her own nature, replied. “What was it that you forgot?”
“I didn’t forget anythin’.” Joel told her, honestly, his fingers moving to pinch at a piece of her flowing skirt. As if the small action would keep her right there in front of him. Where he was desperate to have her. Hoping that it would keep her in place instead of having her running away like last time. 
“It’s more like…” He continued, tilting his head down so that his forehead rested against hers. She gasped at the skin contact, relief flooding her form as she quickly realized his touch wasn’t lost to her like she had feared. “Somethin’ I regret not doin’.”
“And what do you regret, Mr. Miller?” She murmured, her eyes averted to the floor beneath their feet. The surname fell out of her mouth unexpectedly, as if garnering his respect would grant her the knowledge of his secret.
“Well, Mrs. Miller…” The reminder that she shared that very surname with him by holy matrimony caused a jolt of surprise to coarse through her veins. But it was replaced with satisfaction soon enough. She marveled at the fact that she wasn’t exactly bothered by the concept, in fact she almost relished in it. And then Joel said his next words.
 “I can show you exactly what that is… if you’ll let me.”
She didn’t have it in her to speak. Any reply that she could’ve had was lost in the back of her throat. All she could do was to nod eagerly, any shame she could’ve had at her desperation was tossed out the window.
“I need you to use your words.” Joel said in response to her movements, his voice hoarse as if he were holding himself back and the action of doing so was terribly difficult. 
“I— Yes… please, Joel.” She whispered, her breath fanning across his cheeks. “I want you to show me.”
This time, Joel was the first to bring their lips together in a zealous kiss. The green fabric that resided between his forefinger and thumb was soon shifted to be gripped by his hands as he pulled her in. Their bodies were now flushed together. The softness of her breasts pushing into the solid form of his chest. Simultaneous sighs of relief intermingled on their tongues when they finally let themselves melt into one another.
Y/N gasped into his mouth when his teeth nipped at the plush skin of her bottom lip. She had already known how brash he was with his movements from their kiss last night, but now it seemed as if all of his inhibitions were lost to him, his hands now smoothing over the curve of her ass. Joel’s fingers gripped at the supple flesh through her dress, pulling her waist into his own. 
She moaned at his touch, as well as the sign of his arousal digging into her hip. Her arms shifted to wrap around his broad shoulders, her fingers digging into the muscles on his back, urging him to move closer, if that were even possible. 
And in this instance, she wasn’t disappointed by the loss of his lips, because he was quick to replace them somewhere else on her skin. It was as if he had to kiss every inch of her before he moved on to undiscovered territory. Joel’s lips were kissing at the corners of her lips, and the apples of her cheeks before he moved down to her jawline. 
Though this was where he became more selfish in his actions, nipping at the skin so he could hear the sweet little whimpers that would waver from between her lips. Then he would lick over the bruised skin, soothing her of the slight pain he might’ve caused, heart hammering at the soft sighs of satisfaction she gifted him. Joel groaned at the sounds she made, relishing in the glory of every moan, whine and sigh. He could feel as he grew harder against the strain of his pants, the pain of it almost too much to bear. But this wasn’t about him. Instead, it had everything to do with the woman arching into his lips.
Thick fingers curled around the square neckline of Y/N’s lovely dress, knuckles brushing against her sternum as he tugged down at the fabric. A sharp gasp rang out into the air as her sleeves slid down her arms, allowing the exposure of her nipples to cold morning air, already hardened by her arousal to the man committing these actions. The flesh of her breasts bouncing slightly from the momentum in which he moved. 
Joel pulled his mouth away from her, eager to get a look.
Y/N could feel herself flush under his stare, suddenly shy as he drank in this new image of her. She wanted to look away and hide in her self-consciousness, but she couldn’t take her eyes off of his dilated pupils and the endearing shade of pink that tinted his cheekbones. A burning need was flashing across his brown irises, the sight of it sparking an odd sense of confidence in the woman. She straightened her shoulders, letting him look at her. Because he would be the only man who would ever get to see her like this. 
He groaned again, at the sight of her perked nipples paired with her newfound boldness.
“S’ pretty.” He mumbled, smoothing a large hand up over her breast, he could feel the pebbled skin pricking into his rough palm. She hummed at the compliment as well as his touch. Though a second later it was replaced with a harsh ‘ah’— pulled from her lips when his hand shifted so that he could pinch at her nipple. 
It was the most torturous form of pleasure she had ever felt in her life. That was until he guided her body until she could feel the kitchen table digging into her lower back. His free hand gripped at the flesh under her ass, lifting her up and making it so that she was now sat against the surface. With her now stationary on the table, he was able to bend over, lips finding purchase on the nipple that wasn’t trapped between his fingers.
A high pitched moan was ripped from her throat as she subconsciously spread her legs, Joel’s hips fitting perfectly in the space between her thighs. Her hand splayed out on the wood behind her as she arched into his tongue that was now currently swirling lazy circles around the sensitive bud. And though she had never done anything like this before, her hips started to move in the only way that seemed natural. The only way that seemed to relieve the ache that pulsed between her legs.
Y/N rolled her hips up into Joel, the hardness of him firm against her clothed center, soaked from her constant arousal since their first kiss. She wondered if she would make a mess of the pants he was wearing, but the thought was fleeting once Joel pulled away from her skin.
“Fuck.” He stammered, resting his forehead in the valley of her breasts, his brown curls tickling her skin.  “D-don’t do that, darlin’.” 
Y/N stilled. “Why? Did I hurt you?”
He laughed breathlessly, the air of it fanning over Y/N’s chest. “No, nothing like that… Just feels t’ good.”
“Oh.” She said, a bit bashfully, but a small smile tugged at her kiss-bruised lips. Pride started to swell deep in her stomach at the admission that she made him feel just as good. And that idea was too precious to pass up on. “Then maybe I should keep doing that.”
She grinded her hips against him again, forcing him to remove himself from her chest, sucking in a harsh breath. His hand shot out, gripping onto the supple flesh of her inner thigh, now exposed as the skirt of her dress had shifted during their hectic movements. 
“Please, sweetheart.” Joel begged, his nails digging into her leg. “You gotta stop.”
“But I wanna make you feel good.” She pouted, hips stilled by the brace he instilled upon her. Joel released a shaky breath, moving his forehead to rest on Y/N’s once more. His gaze was averted to the green fabric bunched up under her breasts, his brown eyes lost to her.
“You have no idea how much I want that— how long I’ve wanted that.” He murmured. “But I came back here for a reason.”
His voice sounded more determined by the end of his sentence. In doing so, it made the woman’s tone that much smaller, but she was still quite the contrarian to his words.
“I thought this was the reason.” She countered, sliding her hand up behind his neck, fingers toying with the curls at the base of his hairline. This time it was him shivering under her touch.
A soft smile curled upon Joel’s lips, he shook his head against her forehead, in slight laughter. “No. It’s close to what I was picturin’... but not quite.”
“Then what were you picturing?” She asked.
Joel leaned back, finally gracing her with the sight of his eyes, He didn’t answer her question, only holding an excruciating form of eye contact with the woman. And then, the once rough fingers that had tugged at her clothing and groped at her flesh were now trailing soft patterns into the skin of her thigh. Y/N’s breath hitched in her throat as they started to move closer to the spot between her legs. The ache she felt for him was now burning with great white heat.
Her own hands were gripping in their respective areas, meaning one was tugging at Joel's hair, pulling satisfied groans from his lips, while the other was locked around the edge of the table. Her hips jutted forward by their own accord when his fingertips skirted around the edge of her panties.
“Joel.” She whined, frustrated by his featherlight touch, though strangely enough also reveling in his gentle caress. 
“I know.” He whispered, dropping his head onto her shoulder. “I know… I’ll give you what you want— just let me…”
He splayed his large hand onto her thigh, pushing against it so that she’d spread out wider for him. There was no resistance from her, only eager relinquishment. There was a harsh twitch of his cock at the thought that she would let him do anything with her, along with the idea that her body was all his for the taking. A covet he never thought would come into fruition. 
“Please, Joel.” She urged again, and Joel realized right then that he was just as much hers as she was his. He would do anything for her. His body ached to give her exactly what she wanted. 
So he did.
Y/N gasped when his thumb pressed firmly against the darkened spot on her panties, a similar gasp falling from Joel’s lips when he finally learned how wet she truly was. And it was all for him. 
He moved his digit at an agonizing pace, moving in slow circles around the most sensitive part of her, not even sparing a fleeting touch to the bud of nerves. The torture of it all was exquisite. Y/N’s head fell backwards as she moaned, the tendons of her neck stretched out in front of Joel, the sight of it too enticing for his own good. He leaned forward, touching his lips against her skin. 
Now having to focus on two things at once, his movements against her core became sloppy, and his touch harshened, slipping over Y/N’s clit. An embarrassing squeal forced its way from her throat as she jutted her hips fiercely into Joel’s thumb. He grinned against her skin.
“Oh, you liked that, didn't you?” He chuckled, placing more kisses down her neck, his beard scratching her skin as he moved. Y/N had a response to his teasing tone, perhaps it was even quick-witted, but it was stolen from her lips and replaced with another desperate moan when his tongue swirled around her nipple.
It was all becoming too much with every tiny ministration he committed on her skin. She felt as though she could burst into flames. Little did she know that it would all come to a head when Joel would kiss his way down her body, heavy knees dropping to the floor. There was no patience left within him when he practically ripped Y/N’s panties off of her body, hands roughly pushing her thighs apart.
“J-Joel, what are you doing?” She questioned, forearms braced against the table, being pushed back further up the furniture as Joel started nipping at her inner thigh, goosebumps following in his wake
“‘m doin’ what I came here for.” He mumbled into her skin, teeth grazing the malleable flesh. She was about to ask exactly what that might be, but the question was answered when he licked a long stripe through her slick folds.
Curses tumbled out of Y/N’s lips as he used his mouth on her. Never in a million years would she imagine that he would do something so… obscene. And she never would have anticipated how much she loved it. Her eyes were wide as she marveled at the sight of him. His brown eyes were staring back up at her from over her mound, drinking in every little reaction he spurred from her. His hair was wild, the look of it brought on by Y/N’s fingers as she ran them through the tendrils, forcing him closer and closer. And then there were the noises of him slurping and groaning and relishing in the taste of her. 
At the beginning, Joel was slow with his actions, his tongue going up and down the length of her slit. Again he would frustratingly avoid touching her clit, tracing big circles around the bud, building up anticipation deep in Y/N’s stomach. But as he continued, every so often he would flick over it pulling more whimpers from Y/N’s throat. He would moan against her folds in satisfaction, the vocalizations causing slight vibrations to run through her entire form. 
Y/N’s head fell with a soft thump against the table, her back arching up into the air, squirming under Joel’s actions. A hand snaked up from Y/N’s thigh, placing itself on her sternum. His palm was rough against the skin between her bare breasts, holding her down and keeping her in place. 
Finally, seemingly deciding that the woman had been through enough torture, Joel wrapped his lips around her clit, sucking on it harshly. She all but screamed at this new sensation overcoming her, her right leg slipping over his left shoulder, unknowingly trapping him in place. They were locked in a heated tryst, his hand still braced on her chest, her calf pushing into his back and Joel’s mouth and tongue were still unrelenting. 
She couldn’t help but to twist her fingers into his hair, tugging him closer against her cunt, she grinded her hips into his face, any tribulations that she might be hurting him lost in her pleasure. But if only she knew how much Joel adored her desperate nature as she chased after her high on his tongue. In fact he had never been this hard in his life. He could feel himself dripping inside of his pants, making a mess of his boxers as precum spilled from his tip with every twitch of his cock. His hips were thrusting into the air beneath the table in his own desperation. The seam of his zipper was rubbing firmly against the length of him. Joel honestly would not be surprised if he ended up cumming without even having to touch himself.
And as it turned out, eventually he would.
Joel’s name was now falling freely from between Y/N’s lips in broken fragments. The movements of her hips were becoming clumsy, stuttering as Joel continued to lick at her clit, groaning everytime she pulled at his hair. The heat burning low in her stomach began to grow hotter and more incessant. And with one more deliberate move of Joel’s tongue against her clit, it all began to burst.
The sight of Y/N cumming was the prettiest thing Joel had ever seen. Her head was thrust back against the table, supple lips drawn open as more of her moans escaped into the air, along with the sound of his name. Her whole body was tensing and shaking as the waves of her orgasm washed over her body. Joel’s mouth was ruthless on her cunt, drinking anything she had to offer him as the proof of her orgasm splashed over his tongue. The sight of her, as well as the taste of her, was all too much to bear as his own hips involuntarily jutted into nothing, the confines of his pants working against him in a way that had him finishing. He shuddered at the sensation, his shoulders trembling as he could feel his own cum spill into the fabric of his underwear. He whimpered into Y/N’s cunt, breathing sharply out of his nose, still trying to coax her down from her own orgasm as her body became limp and her breathing heavy, until finally everything started to slow down. 
Searching hands groped around until they finally found purchase on Joel’s shoulders. She tugged at his shirt, forcing him away from her oversensitive core and out from between her legs. 
She was met with eyes blown out with lust and a fading orgasm, red lips parted in amazement and beard shining with her cum. His clothes were askew and his brown curls were all over the place. He looked completely out of it. Though she probably couldn’t say she was much better.
And Joel admired the image of it as he stood above her. She blinked up at him, leaning back on her elbows, a look of pure wonderment painting her features. Her green dress was bunched around her middle, nipples still perked in the cool air of the kitchen, her chest stuttering with every breath. He smiled softly at her, leaning to snake a hand around her waist, pulling her up into a sitting position, her hands instinctively looping around his broad shoulders.
“You alright?” He asked gently as he stood her on shaking legs, the skirt of her dress now falling back in place. She shivered when she felt the touch of his knuckles on her chest once again as he shifted the top of her dress back in its proper position.
“I—  um… yeah.” She said breathlessly, words lost to her in her post-orgasmic state. Joel couldn’t help but grin at her flustered demeanor, bringing a hand up to her cheek. She was grateful for his touch, leaning into his hand as he caressed her cheekbone with his thumb. He leaned down, placing a gentle kiss to her lips causing Y/N to taste herself upon his skin.
“Did you… get what you were looking for?” Y/N questioned, once they pulled apart. Earning soft laughter deep from within Joel’s chest. The sound of it quirking up the corners of Y/N’s lips in a shy smile, pride swelling in her belly since she was the one who caused it.
“That I did, sweetheart.” He smiled, running a hand over her hair, his eyes sparking with contentment. Her shy smile morphed into that of a bright grin, pulling him back in towards her to share a deeper kiss. He groaned into her lips, unexpected for the both of them as another surge of lust sparked between them, seemingly unsatisfied by what they had just finished. She whimpered back into his mouth as tongues started probing and teeth nipping once again. At a particularly boisterous moan from Y/N, Joel had to pull away. 
“W-wait.” He breathed, “I— We can’t, we don’t have time. I have to go back.”
Y/N deflated at his words, but ultimately nodded her head in understanding. She took a step back from him, needing the distance to quell her need to melt into him once more. Though Joel’s fingers quickly wrapped around her own, stopping her from moving away any further.
“You’ll still be here when I get back, yeah?” He asked, the question causing Y/N’s heart to drop down to her stomach. As she looked at him she found insecurities scrawled across his features. Maybe she hadn’t done enough to convince him that she wasn’t going anywhere. Or perhaps this was leftover from pain he endured in the past. She brought his hand up, brushing her lips across his knuckles in a sweet kiss, and then covered that spot with her free hand.
“I promise.” She whispered, her gaze locked on his searching eyes, flickering over her features, trying to find the truth. When he found nothing but her earnest smile he felt brave enough to go, but not before leaving her with one more breathless kiss. 
Y/N had watched silently as he got ready to leave, washing his face with the bar of hand soap left on the side of the kitchen sink. She didn’t say anything as he readjusted his clothes and threw his bag over his shoulder. And she didn’t beg him to stay when he finally placed that final kiss upon her lips. All she did was sink further and further into the throes of missing him, despite the fact that he was right in front of her.
It only grew stronger as he whispered more promises of continuing when he returned three days later. She held onto that promise, close to her chest like a dying flame, watching as the view of his truck disappeared over the horizon. 
She prayed to the gods above that time would fly quickly.
Though perhaps she should’ve been praying for something else entirely. 
Because later that night and hundreds of miles out from the shoreline, a little ship bobbed at sea. The workers on deck scrambled in preparation. Worry stiffened their brows. Prayers to Poseidon fell from their lips. A soft pattern of rain began to sprinkle over their heads, it was unassuming in its very nature. But that was just the first sign of the oncoming danger as they headed into the eye of the storm. 
Three days came and went.
Joel had yet to return home. 
Y/N knew that the life of a fisherman was dangerous and unpredictable, she had heard many stories, most of which when she was younger, whispered to her by her classmates as they relayed the most gory details from the sad news of a shipwreck. Some were overheard at the local pub, traumatic events recounted around a bottle of brandy as fishermen tried to top each other's stories.
Frankly, these stories hardly bothered the young woman like it did to others in town. She couldn’t indulge in the disturbance of it all because the way these stories were told, relayed like an unattainable fairytale. It was all folklore in her mind. She was certain that nothing like that could ever affect any aspect of her life.
She was eating her words now. 
It was on the sixth day that Joel was gone when she heard that it was a storm that delayed their ship, knocking it off its course.
The information was brought to her front doorstep by her very own father, who in his old age made the trek across the island to do so. This left Y/N’s stomach unsettled, for he would never go to such great lengths unless something truly terrible had occurred. 
She was reminded of the day her mother died. He adorned the same face that painted his features now. Eyes downcasted, lower lip trembling, hands twisting around his patched cap. He was sitting on one of the wooden chairs strewn around the kitchen table. Y/N was leaned up against the counter, her arms wrapped tightly around herself.
“We didn’t get the message until early this morning. Radio was down, they barely got it  workin’ when they reached us...” He said quietly, to the toes of his boots.
“And?” Y/N urged, knowing her father had more to say.
“They lost a few men.” He said quickly, as if he couldn’t stand to have the words left on his tongue. Y/N sucked in a breath. She turned around, facing the window over the sink. She braced her palms on the counter, vision blurring as tears pricked the corner of her eyes.
“Did they say who?” She asked, words choked between her tightening vocal cords, constricting from her tears.
“No, couldn’t keep the signal for long enough.” He murmured, she could hear him stand, the legs of the chair squeaking against the tile. “But they did say they’ll be returning by this evening.”
Y/N whipped around at that, her features twisted in vexation. The lead buried so much deeper than it needed to be. She would have to keep her annoyance left unsaid, however, as now there was no time to waste. 
She brushed past her father hastily, ignoring the way her name was called after her as she staggered around the living room, clumsy in the way she tugged her boots over her feet. Her jacket was long forgotten on the hook by the door as she hurried outside, the thought of it only coming once the cool winds whipped at her exposed arms and cheeks. But she wouldn’t turn back for it. Her adrenaline kept her warm, anyways.
It was a two hour walk to get to the docks. Beads of sweat ran down her spine, blisters pinched at the heels of her feet, her breathing was labored as she pushed her anxiety out of her lungs. Though none of that mattered. All she knew was that she had to get to the docks. She had to get to him. If he was even there…
She swiped angrily at the tears that now carved pathways down the skin of her cheeks. Never in her life had she ever been able to keep her emotions at bay, she was always willing to scream at the sky and cry til her throat was raw. That fact was unchanging even as she grew older. So she let her tears fall. They didn’t distract from her current mission, anyhow. Her eyes were set on the small town that appeared over the horizon. 
The whole town congregated at the docks. Passersby stood on the cobblestone streets, their inherent nosiness ill-concealed by their feigned looks of concern. Whispers flitted between them as if this were all just a dramatized show to keep them entertained. Y/N let no apologies slip through her lips as she pushed her way through them, knocking into their shoulders and earning glares as she did. 
When her footsteps rang out on the wood of the dock that's when she was surrounded by the people like her. Family members worried for their loved ones lost at sea. They all stood silently as their eyes were set towards the ocean, hands clutched in prayer, whispering hopes that it wasn’t their spouse, parent or child who lost their life to an unrelenting sea. Y/N was too impatient to do the same. She just stood and waited for any kind of sign that Joel would be home soon.
It came only thirty minutes later. When a small boy at the front of the dock screeched in anticipation, pointing out a small dot wavering in the distance. Y/N’s stomach swooped down in a mixture of hope and apprehension. She was terrified to learn the truth of what happened.
But twenty minutes after that, the truth had arrived as the ship pulled in with the tide. Everyone advanced closer to where the fisherman would eventually unboard. Y/N stayed behind, her feet frozen to where she stood. Maybe she was trying to delay the inevitable. 
Relieved cries and overjoyed calling of names soon swirled into the evening air as loved ones were reunited. Warm embraces and fervent kisses were exchanged between them. But it was all backtracked by the ones who received news of a death, heartbreaking wails mixing in with the sound of reunion.
It was an unsettling cacophony of sounds. The way love and loss intertwined within one another. Two sides of the same coin. And Y/N still had yet to know which one she was on. 
Her hands were shaking. Her sight was restricted by the many heads that stood in front of her. She scanned each face, none of them holding the warm brown eyes she’s grown accustomed to. Her stomach sank deeper and deeper, her throat started to constrict again, a sob threatened to burst out from between her trembling lips.
She couldn’t hold it back once she registered a mess of brown and gray curls making its way through the crowd. The sob released itself, though not in anguish as she had thought, it was instead paired with the most intense form of relief she had ever known. Her feet started to move by their own accord.
His name fell desperately from her lips. 
Joel stilled once he heard the sound of it. Brown eyes wild as he searched frantically for where it was coming from. When they found her through a split in the crowd, Y/N was met with the same look of relief she knew was apparent within her own irises. 
His stride lengthened as he worked fast to cut the distance between them. As she drew nearer, he registered the tear stains on her supple skin, fresh ones following the same path. His heart lurched at the sight, the overwhelming need to hold her burning his skin. Burning hotter as she drew nearer. Setting him ablaze when she was right in front of him. 
He tossed his bag to the side in favor of wrapping his arms around her. He relished in the way she sank into his arms, curling into his chest. He felt how her heartbeat pounded against her ribs, beating in the same pattern as his own. Joel held onto her even tighter.
“You scared the hell out of me.” She cried, tone muffled by his cable knit sweater as she hid her face in his warmth. A large hand smoothed over the back of her head, bringing her in even closer if that was even possible. His nose dropped down into her hair, the scent of her invading his senses, comforting him. He was back home. Safe. And she was here waiting for him. 
“I know, baby, I’m sorry.” He murmured, the nickname falling freely in his solace. 
She didn’t seem to mind. 
They returned home just as the sun dipped below the horizon, losing the orange hues of the sunset to a dark velvet sky littered with stars. The journey was much easier on the way back now that they had Joel’s old truck that was waiting for him down by the docks. As well as the fact that the reassurance of Joel’s return replaced the heavy feeling of fear that had haunted Y/N for the past three days.
They were greeted by a homemade meal, left behind by Y/N’s father. A gift either of consolation or celebration. She was grateful it was the latter. 
And once their bellies were full and the pain of the day was washed away in soothing streams of hot water, the two of them stood in the hallway once again. Y/N was unsure of what to do. Less than a week ago they had crossed a boundary she hadn’t even dreamed of. Now they were standing at the precipice of something even greater. And since Joel was safe at home once again, the anticipation to act on it was dripping from the walls. 
Was she ready for such a feat? Was Joel expecting something like this to happen? Nerves brought a tremor to her hands. 
Meanwhile, Joel could feel the tips of his ears burning at the memory of what happened the last time they were alone together. Her moans had him weak in the knees, her skin was soft to the touch, things he only knew since Y/N had made the first move in this very hallway. A bolder woman than what stood in front of him now, as her eyes stayed glued to the floor, her breathing fragmented from timidity.
His gaze softened as he took in the sight of her.
“I don’t know what you’re expectin’ to happen...” He breathed, a soft smile turning up the corners of his mouth, “But I can assure you it’s not what you’re thinkin’...”
Y/N’s eyes flickered up at the teasing lilt to his words. She was met with a mischievous gleam in those brown eyes as he repeated the very first thing she ever said to him. She couldn’t help her own grin that bloomed across her lips. 
At her smile, he felt brave enough to bring a hand up to her cheek. 
“You have nothing to worry about, darlin’” He then murmured, stroking his thumb over the soft skin. She leaned in his touch, peering up at him through her lashes. “We don’t have to do anythin’.”
“I want to.” She whispered back, her words causing his breath to hitch in his throat. “Eventually… but tonight…”
He nodded, removing his touch from her face. “I understand.”
The floorboards creaked as he took a step back. But surprise shot up his spine when she moved to clutch his fallen hand with both of her own. 
“But tonight could you just lay with me?” She quickly added.
She looked up at him expectantly, the plush of her bottom lip dragged between her teeth. He let out a low labored breath.
“Y-yeah.” He nodded, the word weak on his tongue. He was afraid that if he spoke any louder he might scare her off. Though the grip of her fingers locked around his palm proved to him that she was there to stay. A reassurance he was always grateful for. 
Y/N tugged at his hand, urging him to follow as she guided their way into her bedroom. It was an odd choice, considering the master bedroom was just right there and the bed was bigger. But to be invited into her private sanctuary was an opportunity he would never pass on. So his feet followed eagerly.
It was dark in the room when they entered and it stayed that way as no one made a move to turn on the light. Unfortunately, what she had done to make the bedroom her own was lost to his eyes, but that regret was soon forgotten as he heard the squeak of mattress springs and the shuffling of blankets.
As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he found Y/N’s form on the bed in front of him, he stood on the side, basking in the glory of this moment. 
“Come here.” Her whisper found him through the dark. His stomach swooped at the sultry sound of her voice. But he ignored any provocative thoughts that wormed its way into his brain. Instead, he obeyed her command, the mattress dipping as he slid under the covers beside her.
In an instant, his senses were invaded by her scent as well as her warmth. There was only an inch or two of distance between them. Both lying on their backs, staring up at the ceiling, afraid to move, afraid to breathe.
A sharp intake of breath rang out from Joel when the touch of her fingertips smoothed over his open palm in the space between them. Naturally, his own digits curled around hers. He heard as she sighed happily from his reciprocation. 
And somehow— despite how fast his heartbeat was when he had her writhing under his tongue only a few days prior, it was nothing compared to the small gentle act of holding her hand.
~
Joel was up before the sun.
As was the case every morning, since his body's internal clock was intune with the demanding schedule his occupation thrusted upon him. So he was used to opening his eyes to a darkened world, not yet warmed by rays of sunlight.
Though today was slightly different. He wasn’t woken by the natural fluttering of his eyelids as his dreams from that night slipped away; Instead it was the press of another person’s form against his body, an arm draped over his torso, legs intertwined between his own, head resting on his chest.
He stiffened once he remembered where he was and who it was.
Y/N.
She was warm through the fabric of their pajamas. So much so that Joel didn’t even miss the warmth of the sun like he usually did during these dark and frigid mornings. A deep contented sigh pushed through the structure of his chest, Y/N’s head moving in time with his breathing. The movement elicited a small whine from her lips.
The sound had his heart racing yet again, reminding him of the other noises she was capable of making.
Those noises had been replaying over and over in Joel’s mind ever since he was blessed to hear them— even better, to create them with the touch of his own hands and lips. He brought the memory with him when he was on that small boat, miles out at sea, restless in his cot as he ached to return home to her. 
When they were caught in the throes of that storm all he could think about was her. The drive of it kept him alive throughout the chaos. 
Now here he was, sharing in her warmth, despite the awkward navigation of their newfound forms of intimacy. Anticipation surged through his muscles, pulling away the last dregs of sleep that had plagued his limbs. 
Joel cursed under his breath as something else began to stir to life. 
This was a young man's game. He was in over his head with the feelings she evoked from him. Never in his life had he experienced anything quite like this. The way every part of his body begged for every part of hers. Everything he’d felt for those before her was just a crude imitation of what he felt for her at this very moment. It was almost an insult to compare. Nothing could ever compare..
And he had no idea what he was supposed to do. 
Which was funny. Because this woman was his wife. She was the one person he should feel this for. But with the way they had started Joel wasn’t sure what he was allowed to take what he wanted. Was he allowed to be selfish the way he wanted to? Everything surrounding the two of them was delicate. And Joel was terrified of breaking it with his large and clumsy hands.  
For now he would just have to hold himself back. Be gentle in the way that he navigated this unknown territory. Which meant he had to do the hardest thing in the world. 
He had to get out of this bed. 
Slowly and cautiously he detangled his limbs from the woman beside him. He trained his eyes on her face, searching for any sign that his movements were waking her up. The line between her eyebrows showed itself when her cheek lost the firm foundation of his chest, but that— and a few incoherent mumbles— was all that occurred as he slipped himself out of her bed. Luckily, she seemed to be a sound sleeper as she curled up into herself without Joel’s warmth. 
Joel stood above her, almost caught in a trance from how disgruntled she looked now that he was gone, proof of the effect he had on her as well. A small smile danced on his lips. And then he allowed himself one indulgence as he leaned over to brush a faint kiss over her forehead. He felt her features smooth under his lips, seemingly content with his departing gift.
~
To wake up alone in a cold empty bed was not what Y/N had expected that morning. There were a few instances during the night, when her dreams took a pause that she would wake up, eyes blinking in the dark. And she quickly grew accustomed to the strong presence that Joel was. The soft steady sound of his snores was a comfort to the girl’s ears as they rumbled through his chest. At some point in the night his strong arms had encircled around her waist, pulling her into his warmth.
That very same warmth, having been taken away from her, was now sorely missed. She stretched an arm out over the expanse of her bed, fingers groping at where Joel once lay. 
She supposed she should’ve expected to wake up like this, considering how early he left every morning. But she would have thought she would’ve woken up when the time came. At least long enough to spare a goodbye before he headed off to work. 
Disappointment sat heavy over her form like a stormy rain cloud. Y/N tried not to dwell on it, but as always her feelings were too strong to contain, so throughout the whole rest of the day she moved about the house wistful in demeanor. Yearning for Joel despite the fact he would be home in a few hours time. 
Was this usually how it happened when you start to feel this way towards someone? Like your whole world stops turning when they aren’t near? Whatever the case, she knew that these feelings were not to be taken lightly. There was a rarity to them that made her heart much more precious to the woman. She felt like she needed to keep it safe, deep in her pocket where no harm would find it, and no one would be able to see the extremities of her feelings.
And that’s where she kept it as her restless feet wandered into town. 
But as she walked, something funny happened. Everywhere she looked, everything seemed so much brighter. The people who passed her by greeted her with warm ‘hello’s’ and ‘how are you’s’. Kids were laughing as they played in the street, laughing. There were lovers in front of shops holding hands and exchanging stolen kisses. Birds were singing. The sun was… shining? Everything that used to be dreary about the island, everything that Y/N hated, had somehow flipped to be the exact opposite of what it used to be. Or perhaps… it had always been like this and she just hadn’t noticed, too caught up in her own pretension and desperate need to escape. 
Perhaps this island really did live up to its name.
Why was it that she had just noticed this now? What had changed?
She thought of her beating heart, hidden in her deepest pocket. And then froze in her tracks. 
She was reminded of something. Something she had only heard in the old sea-shanties her father used to sing while he cooked. In the stories her mother used to whisper to her at bedtime. And that used to worm her way into her dreams late at night, planting the idea that she had to escape in the first place. She had to go find it. 
It was love.
And it hit her like a ton of bricks. 
Well, not the love part, that made sense to her as the loose ends were finally tied together. What surprised her the most was that she didn’t have to travel to the furthest reaches of the earth to find it. It had been on this very island the whole entire time. And it was fated to be shared with the man she was hell-bent against marrying. 
Incredulous laughter began to bubble out of her throat. So much so that she had to brace herself on her knees as she gasped for air. She was definitely living up to her reputation as the crazy woman, earning strange glances from passersby. But she didn’t care. She never cared. All she really cared about was burning passionate love, that’s what she had been yearning for all her life. And she was almost too stupid to realize that it was right under her nose.
Gong! Gong! Gong! Gong! Gong!
The clocktower in town was chiming at the start of the new hour. Five o’clock… It pulled Y/N out of her unexpected fit of laughter. Joel would be on his way home right at this very moment. And without thinking twice, the woman began to run.
~
Joel returned to an empty house. This wasn’t entirely unusual, as there were some days Y/N would be out in the garden, lounging on the porch swing she loved oh-so much, having lost track of time. He would always find her, caught in the middle of a fascinating passage, one she couldn’t tear her eyes from. The idea of dinner would not have crossed her mind, as it was often lost in the clouds.
He never minded that, though. In fact, he quite liked finding her like that because then it meant that he would get the chance to be by her side while they made their meal together. And he also couldn’t lie about the fact that he enjoyed seeing the image of her, so carefree, with her knees tucked beneath her, skin glowing underneath the evening sun. He would always take a moment to stop and watch her, drinking in the sight of her peace before having to force her out of it.
A small smile spread across his lips at the thought he’d catch her like that now. His heavy footfalls rang out into the quiet household as he crossed the floor towards the back door. His anticipation flickered deep in his stomach once more, excited to see her.
But he was left in disappointment and slight worry when he was greeted with the sight of an empty porch swing. It looked so much sadder without her presence, the loss of her making obvious the peeling white paint and rusted chains that made the furniture what it was. Lackluster without her. A feeling now all too familiar to Joel as he searched the rest of the house, finding empty room after empty room.
He had seen this before. Lived through it. Deja vu in the form of his ex wife whittled its way into his brain. He recalled the day he found her missing. How he felt when he realized she wasn’t coming back. This was so much worse. Because now it was Y/N.
The woman he had unexpectedly fallen for, head over heels. The woman who promised him she wouldn’t do the same and that she would stay right here with him in this house.
It must’ve been too much to ask for. Joel must have wanted too much. Taken too much. She must have come to her senses and realized the potential she was wasting in a marriage with an old man like him. Dread was quick to overtake him, he knew that much. But he had never been a lucky man. Everything he ever loved was always lost to him. Why would anything change now?
Joel found himself sitting on the front step of his porch, head clutched in his hands. He wasn’t exactly sure what it was that brought him out there. Maybe he needed the fresh air to rid the panic in his lungs. Or maybe it was that flicker of hope that still burned within his heart. Maybe she would return home to him. If his hopes weren’t for nothing.
“Joel?”
His head snapped up to find Y/N standing in front of him. She was out of breath, a sheen of sweat covering her skin, causing her to glow brighter than she usually did. Her irises sparked with worry as she took in the sight of his hunched form on the porch. Though once he registered that she was really there, standing in front of him, he shot to his feet.
“Y/N.” He replied, his voice riddled with a confusing tone of surprised awe, eyes thick with relief. The girl’s brows furrowed. He took the remaining two steps down to where she stood, his hands bracing themselves on her shoulders.
“Where were you?” He questioned, somewhat angrily, though through that she could see a form of desperation hiding behind it all.
“I’m sorry I was— I just came from town.” She answered, having not yet fully caught her breath, the words were hushed between her overworked lungs. 
“Why didn’t you tell me?” He practically begged out the question. “I could’ve brought you home.”
“I’m sorry.” She said earnestly, wrapping her fingers around his wrists. “I didn’t think of it. I was in a hurry to get back.”
“Why?” 
She looked down at the ground between their feet, the distance between them small, soon to become even smaller, she was sure. A bashful smile crept up onto her lips. 
“I wanted to see you.” She murmured, eyes still averted as a slight heat pinched at her cheeks. Somehow it was much harder to face him, now that she had put a name to what she had been feeling.
Surprise stiffened her shoulders when Joel let out a harsh breath of relief, his head dropping into the crook of her neck, arms looping around her waist. She soon softened under his embrace, her fingers tangling within his sea-breeze tangled hair. 
“I thought you left.” He mumbled into her skin. Y/N’s stomach dropped at the hidden fear behind his words. She now understood completely where this strange new demeanor was coming from. She quickly shook her head, knowing Joel felt as she did when her cheekbone brushed against his ear in time with the movement.
“No.” She whispered. “No, I would never.”
His hold on her tightened with the words spoken. Y/N smoothed her hand over the back of his head, hoping it brought some form of comfort to the man.  As his shoulders began to relax, she knew that it did. She continued her reassurance.
“I’m sorry.” Y/N tilted her head towards him, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. “I wasn’t thinking clearly. I should’ve come down to the docks.”
“Why didn’t you?” He asked, pulling back from his hiding spot, eyes searching for the answer. 
Y/N drew in a deep breath, the heat in her cheeks burning fiercer than before. She averted her gaze towards the gravel pathway, taking a step back so that possibly she could find her words within the created distance. Nerves, fairly quickly, took over her form.
“Well… to start, I think— pretty early on in our marriage you must have realized that I wasn’t exactly ecstatic about the whole ordeal.” She rambled as she began to pace, wild with her movements the way she was erratic with her words.
Joel opened his mouth to confirm, but she was speaking so fast that he never had the chance. So he watched on, almost incredulously, eyes following her as she paced back and forth in front of him, avoiding his gaze.
“I mean… I don’t think you were totally happy with it either, considering how we were at the beginning… —Anyways, none of that matters now.” Y/N waved her arms, trying to get rid of any more unnecessary words.
“The reason I was so unhappy— at first— was because I was so desperate to fall in love.” She continued, the last word ringing familiar in Joels ear. A smile perked up the corners of his mouth as realization dawned on him, patiently waiting for the girl to finish her rant.
“And I didn’t think an arranged marriage could have any possibility of that.” Y/N glanced quickly over at Joel, finding him nodding along in exaggerated understanding, strong arms crossed over his chest.
“But then a funny thing happened, when I was walking into town and I suddenly realized…” She stopped moving, facing the man head on as she said her peace. “I think I may be in love with you— No… I know that I’m in love with you.”
As he considered her— standing in front of him, with begging eyes and shaking hands— he bit back a brighter grin. With this onslaught of information he wasn’t exactly sure how he should say what he wanted to say. If the girl would even give him the chance to do so.
“And that’s why I didn’t meet you at the docks.” Y/N finished, quite lamely, hands raised out from her sides as if offering him the floor. Though, her arms flopped back down to their original position quickly after.
“So…” Joel started slowly, killing the woman with every second his pause dragged out. “You didn’t come to the docks… because you’re in love with me?”
“It would seem so.” She confirmed, her voice small with apprehension. “Do you have anything to say on the matter?”
“Just one thing.” He breathed, before taking a step forward, he looped an arm around her waist pulling her against him. A gasp fell from her lips at the eagerness in this action, her hands impulsively landing on his chest. Joel's other hand moved to rest on the side of her face, guiding her lips to slot against his in a deep-seated kiss. 
It was as if the entirety of her being were in her lips, like there was nothing else in the world as he pressed soft kisses to the plush skin. Kisses that somehow conveyed the entire range of how he felt towards her. The passion showed itself as he nipped at her bottom lip with his teeth. The tenderness shown in the gentle caress of his tongue. The love being presented as he pulled back, resting his forehead against hers, it shining in the deep brown of his eyes.
“I love you too.” He confirmed what she saw within his irises, her heart swelling that she wasn’t on her own in feeling this way.
“I didn’t realize that’s what it was until I thought you were gone.” He told her, “I think I might’ve…”
His words trailed off, replaced with a deep breath as he pulled her in closer, as if making sure she was really there in his arms.
“I think I might’ve felt this way for a really long time.” He ended. Y/N smiled warmly up at him, tilting her head to brush her nose against his own.
“Me too.”
And neither one of them really knew exactly when that could have been. Perhaps it was the very first time they laid eyes on each other. Or during one of their many shared meals as they sat across from one another in comfortable silence. Or the distance that kept them apart by raging seas. Maybe it shifted with the constant storms that would rain down over their house. Or maybe it was written in the stars, destined to happen. Whatever the case, it didn’t really matter to them now as they melted back into each other, lips crashing in a great crescendo portraying exactly the burning passion this island was supposed to be known for. 
Their next movements were like a white blinding light as they forged through the front door of their home, shoes left behind,— the excitement that should’ve been present on their wedding night was now following them through the living room and up the creaky stairs. Y/N’s grip on Joel’s hand was strong as she pulled him down the hallway towards the master bedroom, but she still wasn’t strong enough to keep him moving when he stopped abruptly. She turned to face him.
“Wh—?” Her question was interrupted when he pressed her against the wall, his lips finding hers once more. A small squeak of surprise from the young woman was muffled by Joel’s kiss, swallowing it down. His hands were firm on her waist, fingers slipping under the hem of her shirt. Her skin was hot to the touch. 
“Joel.” She moaned against his lips, the touch of his thumb rubbing slow circles into her skin sending bolts of electricity straight to her toes.
His name sounding like that coming from her was enough to have Joel’s entire being on fire. He could feel himself harden with every moan she gifted him, as well as his resolve weakening, patience wearing thin. 
Shifting his grip, his hands were now clutching at the back of Y/N’s bare thighs (since she had miraculously had the good sense to wear shorts today). On instinct, using the leverage of Joel’s grasp, she jumped into his arms, legs wrapping around his waist. The momentum of their bodies coming together had Joel stumbling backwards, back hitting the other wall. The artwork hanging on aging nails rattled in their frames, threatening to crash to the floor as they shook from the collision. Neither husband or wife paid this any mind as they clutched onto each other, lips still vehemently attached, moans and grunts being traded within their kiss.
Soon, Joel’s feet were moving once again, carrying Y/N over the threshold of his bedroom. Like a man was supposed to do with his bride, finally given the chance to do so. Though his grip almost slackened when she pulled her lips away from his, replacing them on the skin below his ear. He cursed under his breath as she began to suckle against a sweet spot he never even knew existed. 
Against all odds, he made it to the bed, falling backwards against the plush surface, springs squeaking under their combined weight. Y/N was not at all deterred by this new position, her forearms bracing themselves on either side of Joel's head as she kissed her way down his neck, hoping she was even half as good as Joel was at this sort of thing. 
She supposed she wasn’t half bad as his breathing was soon labored under the touch of her lips, thick fingers twisting into the fabric of her shirt. She smiled against his skin, especially so when she finally lowered her hips down over his own, the sign of his enjoyment pressing harshly into her inner thigh. Y/N rolled her hips into him, hoping for that very same reaction she had gotten the first time she did this. With no surprise at all, she prevailed.
“Shit—.” He hissed, hands darting to grip at her hips. “Wait.” 
Somehow he was strong enough to still her movements. Or maybe Y/N couldn’t help but obey the words said by this man. In either case, time began to slow down, their frantic movements ceasing. Y/N pushed up on her hands, sitting back on her heels so that she could meet his gaze. Joel’s hands found their home on the skin of her thighs, thumbs instinctively rubbing those soothing circles once again.
He drew in a breath, staring up at her with soft brown eyes. “Have you ever done this before?”
A shy look flitted across the woman's pretty features, her bashful smile weakened as her bottom lip was tugged between her lips. She shook her head, eyes trained to the top button of Joel’s shirt.
He swallowed against a newly dry throat as he realized she was willing to give him everything. Pink swelling up into his cheeks when his cock convulsed at the thought. Surely she had to have felt that, the gasp slipping from her lips proving that she did.  
“I… I don’t wanna rush you into doing anything you’re not ready for.” Joel murmured, “We can take it as slow as you need.”
Y/N offered him a sweet smile at his words, her fingers toying with that button she had her eye on. They were trembling slightly, not out of fear but instead a steady form of anticipation.
“We’ve been married for almost a year now.” She responded, her tone soft. “I think we’ve taken it slow enough.” 
“Alright then.” Joel responded in that same tone, a small smile matching her own, his heart lurching at what was to come next. 
And he could have easily slipped back into the pace they had set when they had crashed into the room. His desires were certainly begging him to do so. But this was their first time indulging in this act as a married couple— her first time at all. So despite the protests of his aching body, Joel would take his time, offer every part of himself to her and hope she would offer the same. 
He smoothed his hand up her thigh, carving his way up to rest his fingers behind her ear, thumb against her cheek. Without much force at all, he guided her gently until their lips were touching once again, this time in a slower kiss. She relaxed against him, chest resting on his. A small whimper escaped the back of her throat at the tenderness of it all.
The small noise spurred Joel into rolling Y/N onto her back, flipping the preexisting roles, covering her with the shadow of his form. His hands were braced on the plush surface beside her head, holding his weight above her. His knee was positioned between her thighs. She was a whimpering mess, grinding up into him, desperate to relieve the ache between her legs. Joel couldn’t help the smirk that appeared over his lips. The bold woman who was kissing down his neck just a mere few minutes ago was long gone. A dark part of him took pleasure at the sight of her like this, desperate for him. It didn’t help how pretty she was splayed underneath him, eyes darkened with lust, bottom lip trembling, hips rutting towards the thigh that was too far away from where she wanted him.
He wouldn’t give it to her. Not yet at least. He was going to take his time. He set his hand against her hip, forcing her to stop her movements, holding her in place.
Lowering himself towards her, he brushed his lips across Y/N’s in a quick kiss. He placed another on the apple of her cheek. Another on her temple. And again at the corner of her mouth. He was moving so slow that she could feel the flutter of his eyelashes tickling her skin. She sighed at each kiss, relishing in his attentiveness. 
She was cold when he removed himself from her, standing up at the side of the bed. Even more so when his hands lifted the hem of her shirt, pulling it up over her head. Her nipples were pebbled against the white lace of her bra, made more obvious as she leaned up on her elbows. His darkened eyes roamed over her body, no inch left undiscovered. His fingers continued to do their work of revealing more, when he popped open the button of her shorts. The garment soon discarded on the floor with her shirt. 
All that she was left in was her undergarments, grateful she had put on a matching set that morning. Joel stood fully clothed in front of her, on unequal ground but somehow the thought excited her. She could feel herself flush behind the skin of her cheeks, turning her head so she could hide behind the back of her hand.
“Don’t hide from me, darlin’” He whispered, catching her in the act, fingers clasping around her wrist. She complied letting the limb fall back to its original position. She dared herself to meet his strong gaze as he continued, another gasp swirling into the air when he spread her thighs, the wetness between her legs more obvious once the cold air contrasted with the heat of her arousal. 
“Look at you…” Joel groaned, toying with the hem of her panties where her thigh met her center, the fleeting touch of his fingers causing her hips to twitch up towards him. He watched her restlessness with slight amusement, though he granted her some form of relief as he dipped his pointer finger into her soaked panties. Though he only did so to pull the fabric away from her burning heat, and a second later he let it snap back down, the sound louder than expected as it smacked against her folds. 
“Don’t do that.” Y/N whined, squirming under his teasing.
“What? You don’t like it?” He did it again, causing the girl to jolt up further on the bed. She whined once, but she didn’t exactly have any words to argue with him. She sort of did like his teasing. But impatience was taking over her.
“I— I think I’m ready.” She breathed heavily through her nose as his fingers continued to play around with the fabric of her panties. 
“Ready?” He questioned, brows furrowed.
“Ready for you to— for your…” She stammered, embarrassment flooding her senses as she couldn’t find how to put it.
“For my cock?” He finished for her. She squeaked at the unexpected harshness of his words, but was pleased by the sharp ache that probed at her core. 
“Mhm.” She nodded, shutting her eyes, almost as if bracing herself. 
They shot back open at the sound of Joel’s soft laughter filling the room, she was greeted with the sight of his bright smile, his head shaking.
“What?” Y/N asked, slightly perturbed at the fact he was laughing at her. He only shook his head, bending to loop an arm around her waist, shifting her body with ease so that she now lay properly on the bed, head sinking into the plush material of his pillows. She huffed in annoyance, lifting herself up back on her elbows so that he could feel the full force of her glare. 
“You’re not even close to ready for me, sweetheart.” He told her, a strong knee propped on the bed. His fingers were working on the buttons of his dark green shirt, revealing a smattering of hair that was once hidden by its confines. Y/N paused as she hungrily drank in the reveal of his skin, but was soon disappointed when he stopped at the third button down. Any complaints she had were lost on her tongue when he swung his other leg onto the bed, trapping the woman between his knees as he sat above her. 
He looked like a god in this position. Skin shining under the sunlight that slid into the room in its golden hour, the shadows of his strong features accentuated. She wasn’t sure if she should cower under his might, she was more grateful to be bestowed with this sight of him. Ready to sacrifice anything to him.
“I feel ready.” She murmured up to him, “Want you inside of me, Joel.”
An unanticipated shiver shot up the length of Joel's spine at her admission, his erection growing harsher within the limits of his underwear. He sucked in a deep breath, shaking his head as if he had to deliberately make the move to hold himself back.
“I want that too, baby.” He mumbled, shifting to smooth his hands down the expanse of her stomach, needing his hands on her in some shape or form. “But ‘m too big for you.”
“Too big?” Y/N parroted her eyes widening. He nodded.
“Have t’ get you ready for me.” He relayed, “Especially since you’ve never had anythin' up there before.”
“Yes I have.” She countered, her tone becoming more defiant. Joel stilled at her words, knowing that could only mean one thing.
“Your fingers?” He swallowed against the words. Y/N’s shy demeanor returned, she looked away.
“Yes.” She said, her voice small.
Joel held back a groan threatening at the back of his throat, the image of her playing with herself, cumming around her fingers, forcing its way to the forefront of his mind. He could feel as more precum leaked out of his tip, slicking against his skin. His heartbeat was ringing in his ears.
“It’s not gonna be the same.” He strained, shaking his head.
“Will it hurt?” 
“A little… at first.” He told her honestly, “That’s why I need you to be ready for me. It’ll hurt you less and I… just wanna make you feel good.”
Y/N softened at the earnest look in Joel’s eyes as he spoke, her heartbeat hammering in her chest with how much care he was providing for her. 
“Okay.” She relented, her hands moving up to grasp at the bottom of his shirt, tugging him towards her. He followed her movements with no resistance, leaning down to kiss her, deep and steady. 
“Make me feel good then.” She whispered into his lips.
“As you wish.”  He replied, in the same hushed tone.
Joel sat back on his heels, admiring her in the golden light for just a second longer before he started. They held each other’s stare, the love they confessed blooming in the air between them, warming their bones, making their hearts beat in time. 
His touch was light as he slid her panties down her legs, losing the piece of fabric somewhere on the bed behind him. He placed a featherlight kiss across her collarbone as he unclasped her bra, her back arching into him so he had the room to remove it. He tossed it in the same aimless direction. And when he sat back, she was bare to him. 
“Beautiful.” He mumbled, tracing his knuckles down her sternum to her belly button, she shivered under his touch, or maybe from the compliment. 
Then he placed himself gently on the pillow beside her. He brought a large hand to her chin, tilting her head to the side so that she’d meet his gaze. Kissing her lips gently, he slid that same hand down the length of her stomach until his fingers were pressing into her pubic mound. He pulled away from her lips, so he could see every little reaction that she had for him.
Her pretty lips fell open when he dipped his fingers lower, collecting the wetness that was pooling at her entrance. He hummed at how wet she was, the slick covering his two fingers when he brought them back up to rub circles into her clit. A moan was instantly pulled from her, her body jolting at the sensation, breasts bouncing as she did. Joel drank in every minute of it. 
And once he knew she was completely ready, he finally slipped a finger inside of her. 
Y/N sucked in a harsh breath, she wasn’t expecting his finger to feel so large inside of her. But it was nothing to what she had felt before when she tried something like this on her own. She felt so full with just the use of his finger, stretching her out so resolutely, that she wondered how it would feel once it was the real thing. She was whimpering once again due to Joel’s actions, her hands shot up to grasp at Joel’s bicep, his shirt taut over the flexing muscle. 
“You want another finger?” He asked into her temple.
“Y-yes.” She breathed, already wanting more from him. And he wasn’t going to deny her of what she wanted. So he added the second finger, the obscene sound of it squelching into the air. He changed the position of his hand, as well, his thumb now prodding at her clit whenever he thrust his hand back into her.
Y/N’s hips moved in time with each of Joel’s movements, even as he sped up, the sound of his palm smacking against her wetness growing louder and louder. Her moans were now tumbling over her tongue at a constant rate, her head thrown back against the pillow.
Joel’s eyes were still watchful over her, he gaped at how beautiful she looked, coming undone with only the use of his fingers. He couldn’t stop from grinding himself into her hip, moving at the same pace as his fingers, too turned on by her to try and hold back.
His own moans were muffled when he started kissing at her neck, and then down the soft flesh of her breasts, until he flicked his tongue over her sensitive nipple.
That was the beginning of Y/N’s breaking point. Him curling his fingers inside of her, probing at a small spongy spot hidden deep inside of her, was the end. 
Her orgasm ripped through her like a freight train, her cum splashing itself onto Joel’s palm. Her legs couldn’t stop shaking, even when he pulled his digits out of her. He chuckled softly as he wrapped an arm around her, pulling her into his chest. On instinct she curled into him, fingers clutching at the lapels of his shirt, her body still trembling as she floated back down from the sky. 
“How was that?” He questioned, holding her tighter against him. She could feel her own slick on his fingers as they pressed into her lower back. 
“Good.” She said into the crook of his neck, voice shaky, earning another laugh from the man. 
“We can stop now, if you want.” He told her, lips pressed into her hair. 
Y/N pushed against his chest, freeing herself from her previous hiding spot. She looked at him with furrowed brows and found nothing but honesty and adoration flickering across his irises. God, he really would stop for her, if she asked him too. In fact, the look he was giving her told her that he would do anything for her. She let out a frustrated breath, surely he wasn’t so stupid to think that she wouldn’t do the same for him. 
“I don’t want to stop.” She said, genuine with her words. Maybe a bit too forceful as she sat up.
“O-okay.” Joel relinquished, eyes wide at her eagerness, following her in the action of sitting up, his back now straightened.
“It’s slightly unfair, you know.” Y/N then said, placing a hand to the center of his chest, pushing lightly so that he would rest against the headboard. There was no resistance, he did as she said. 
“What is?” Joel inquired, his breathing quickening as Y/N sat on her knees beside his hip. His eyes were trained to the crease between her thigh and waist, relishing in her every curve. It was a cruel reminder of his hardened cock trapped in his pants, twitching at the sight. He didn’t even notice as her hands started to unbutton his shirt. That was until she started kissing at each newly revealed piece of skin. He sucked in a harsh breath at the touch of her lips.
“You always get to see me like that.” She said between kisses. And he could’ve argued that it had only ever been twice, but he didn’t want to know what would happen if he interrupted her wrath. “And yet you always hide from me.”
“I don’t hide from you.” Joel countered, his knuckles white from his grip on the sheets beneath him. “You’re just not the opportunist like I am.” 
A surge of pride spread out under Joel’s skin as Y/N’s sweet laughter bubbled into the air. The sound of it doing as much to him as her moans did. He loved hearing her laugh. Like it was proof that she was actually happy with him. Though he supposed the proof was right in front of him, as she continued to leave loving kisses across his chest.
Joel’s shirt was finally discarded, granting Y/N the sight she had been desperate to see for so long. A beauty to behold. He wasn’t exactly all hard lines and jagged edges. But he was strong and large, and soft in the places he needed to be. His skin was tanned and taut over muscles that could only be carved by the waves of a raging sea. But there were scars left behind, probably a result of tragedies endured on his countless journeys. Y/N left a soft kiss over each one.
And then her hands were soon preoccupied by a new task, the metal parts of his belt clanking against each other as she removed the constriction.
Joel waited with bated breath. He had to force himself not to ask if she was really sure about this. Because if she wasn’t, she definitely would not be slowly sliding open the zipper to his pants. Or then tugging them down his thick thighs, revealing the black fabric of his boxer briefs. And she definitely would not now be palming at the bulge between his legs. Which she was.
A groan fell from his lips once she had her hand squeezing at his erection. His hips jutted forward into her palm, his need for her touch too obvious for his own good. His eyes flickered up to find a look of pure wonder on the woman’s features, maybe she was surprised she could elicit such reactions from him. 
“Feel’s s’ good, baby.” He reassured, the words falling from his lips between soft grunts of pleasure. Y/N’s eyes snapped up to meet his. He stared back, lids hooded over darkened eyes overblown with lust. His hips were now rolling up into her hand, over and over, unable to stop.
“Really?” She squeaked.
“Yeah.” He grunted out, any coherent sentences lost to him as lust overtook him. Especially when her fingers hooked around the hem of his underpants, pushing them down to follow the path of his pants.
He gasped when the cold air hit his burning erection.
She gasped at the sight of it.
His cock sprang up once it was finally free from its confines, the tip hitting his lower belly, leaving behind a splotch of precum against his skin. And Joel was right… he was big. It was thick, just like the rest of him, with protruding veins running up the side. The head of it was red and angry, shining with the proof of his arousal. 
And surprisingly, despite the aggressive look of his erection, the woman wasn’t scared like she thought she’d be. Instead she was drawn to it. Drawn to him. Because she was drawn to every part of him. So there was no time wasted when her smaller hand wrapped around his length.
Joel cursed under his breath, head falling back against the headboard with a dull thud. Just the touch of her hand already had him weak, ready to unravel. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to last once he finally felt the tight confines of her cunt fluttering around him. So for now he enjoyed the soft touch of her hand, closing his eyes as her thumb spread his precum over the tip with gentle touches. 
She was slow with her movements, which was alright by Joel. It granted him time to breathe, as well as the fact that this was the first time she’s ever done anything like this. He didn't need to move any faster than this if she didn't want to. His arousal sat low in his belly, happily waiting in the anticipation. 
Though, his blood spiked when he felt the wet touch of her tongue against the head of his cock.
“W-what are you doin’?” He asked, head snapping up to find her crouched down at his waist, hands splayed out on his thighs. She looked up at him through her lashes, tongue still unyielding against him. It was a sight he had dreamt about and longed for, but he never expected her to do anything like this tonight.
“You did this for me, right?” Y/N said between the tiny kitten licks she administered,  “‘m only returning the favor.”
“You don’t have to do that.” He replied, shaking his head slightly. He brought a hand to her jawline, ready to pull her away from his erection, “You don’t owe me anythin’.”
“Okay… Well then it’s because I want to.” She countered, ignoring the presence of his hand and dipping her head downwards again. This time she wrapped her moistened lips over the entire tip. 
“Fuck.” He hissed into the air, his hand moving from her cheek to her hair. He tried to be gentle with his grip, knowing she was new to all of this, but it was increasingly difficult to do so. Especially when she hummed in pleasure around his cock, seemingly relishing in the slight pain of having her hair pulled. She swirled her tongue around him, pulling a stuttering whimper from his lips.
She looked up at him at the sound. His head was thrown back once again, a thin layer of sweat coating his skin, he was breathing harshly through his nose, his handsome features twisted with euphoria. And it was all because of her. 
Y/N felt as more wetness pooled between her legs and dripped down her inner thighs, she squirmed slightly as her arousal increased once again. As it turned out, she seemed to like having Joel like this, writhing under her in immense pleasure, whimpering from the touch of her tongue. She wondered if this is how he felt when he did the same thing to her. If he was this hard in her mouth because he gained pleasure from her pleasure. The thought spurred her on, moving her mouth further down his length.
Another deep groan rumbled out from his chest, eliciting a sound of affirmation from the woman, the vibration of her vocal chords shooting electricity through his body. He glanced back down at her, watching as she took him in as deep as she could.
“God, you look s’ pretty like that.”
And she did. Her mouth around his rigid cock, tears filling her eyes as he pushed deeper down her throat, her pupils blown out with need for him. He could cum to that sight. No— he was going to cum at the sight. He could feel the coil deep in his core about to snap as she continued. But he wasn’t going to let it end here. 
“W-wait. Please, darlin’, you have to stop.” Joel said softly, as he gently pulled her off of him, Y/N’s features held a look of confusion and disappointment. 
“Did I do something wrong?” She asked as he pulled her into his lap, his burning shaft now pressing nicely against the curve of her backside. He could feel how wet she was as she pressed her center into his lower abdomen, soaking the coarse hair spattered across the skin there. 
“No.” He shook his head, “No, you were absolutely perfect, sweetheart. I just… I want to be inside you before I finish.”
“Oh.” Y/N smiled shyly, her head dipping down in slight embarrassment. “Okay.”
“Do you think you’re ready for me?” He asked tenderly, placing kisses onto her cheeks. She closed her eyes against his kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck and nodding her head.
Soon she was on her back, head surrounded by Joel’s fluffy pillows. The sun had slowly dipped further down towards the horizon, only leaving a little bit of light left in the room. It was soft and gentle, caressing the two of them in dimming shades of blue. Joel braced himself over her, bicep flexing when he lowered himself to leave a kiss against her lips. 
“I’ll start slow.” He whispered to her afterwards, leaning his forehead onto hers, a large hand smoothing over her outer thigh. The pressure of his fingertips were somehow soft within his guiding grasp, positioning her leg over his hip. A shock of pleasure erupted in Y/N’s core as she felt the length of Joel’s cock nestle in between her folds at this new position. Joel’s shoulders trembled, breathing growing heavy, his reaction to the same thing.
Y/N’s own breath hitched in her throat as Joel’s hands snaked between them. He wrapped his calloused fingers around his shaft, guiding the tip through Y/N’s slit and brushing it lightly against her clit. Simultaneous gasps intermingled in the air between their lips as they relished in the sensation. 
“Joel.” Y/N whimpered, the unsaid words begging for more. He only nodded in return, his attention locked on the space between their hips, slowly growing smaller as he finally pushed the head of his cock inside of her.
Y/N could immediately tell the difference between this and his fingers. Before was barely anything compared to this. Now she was finally full, finally complete. And it was only the beginning as Joel slowly pushed himself deeper.
She whined at the stretch of him, fingernails scratching over his back. Joel wasn’t any better, hiding his face in the crook of her neck, releasing the most sinful of moans as he was slowly sucked in by her tight, wet warmth. The feel of her around him was more incredible than he imagined. So much so that he pushed in faster than intended, earning a sharp gasp from the woman beneath him. He stilled, immediately.
“Are you okay?” He asked, pulling away from her neck to gauge her true reaction. Her eyes were shut, bottom lip tucked between her teeth.
“‘m alright.” She replied, her heavy breathing causing her sensitive nipples to brush against Joel's chest, another spark of arousal surged through her bones. Another harsh moan was released from the man above her.
“Shit— baby, don’t do that.” He gritted his teeth.
Unknown to Y/N, when that bout of pleasure had traveled the length of her body, she had clenched around him at the sensation. The instance of which made Joel feel as though he might burst into flames. His cock jerked inside of her, the coil returning, slowly starting to unravel. 
“Think you can take any more?” Joel questioned, once he could calm his beating heart as much as he could have.
“There’s more?” She stammered, confused since she already felt so full.
“Y-yeah there’s more.” Joel told her, trying his hardest not to move an inch, the task becoming increasingly difficult. Y/N released a shuddering breath.
“Yeah.” She nodded, “I can take it.”
“That’s my girl.” Joel chuckled airily, the affirmation causing a nice pool of warmth to settle in Y/N’s belly. But the feeling was soon replaced by the head of Joel’s cock as it moved deeper inside of her, the length of him making her believe he was truly proding into her stomach. 
Slowly but surely the rest of him was sheathed inside of her, proven by the soft tickle of his pubic hair against her inner thighs. Joel let himself rest inside of her, allowing her to adjust to his size, his breathing deep and heavy as her walls squeezed around his cock. 
She started squirming beneath him, desperate for him to do more.
“Please Joel.” She whimpered, “Move.”
“You want me to move, sweetheart?” He murmured, nipping at her earlobe with his teeth, her desperation causing something wicked within him to start teasing. 
“Y-yes please, Joel. I need you.” She breathed, squeezing around him again. “Want you to fuck me.”
Joel’s entire body lurched at the words that slipped from her tongue. His heart hammering against his ribcage as it was completely unexpected. It caught him off guard, but he regained his bearings quickly, shaking free from the surprise as he took enjoyment from her dirty language.
“You do, huh?” He mumbled back, feeling her nod into his shoulder. “Is that what you want? For me t’ fuck you?”
“Yes.” She whined, a bit impatiently, more soft chuckles tumbled out of his lips.
“Okay, sweetheart.” He answered, “Anythin’ for you.”
And then he started moving. Slowly, so torturously slowly, sliding out until it was just his head that was left inside of her. Then, just as slowly he would sink all the way back in. He did that over and over again, causing an onslaught of pleasure to rip through the girl as the grooves of his cock carved into her walls so deliciously. She was a mess beneath him, shuddering and gasping with each slow movement he made.
Y/N arched into him, hands grasping at his back as he dipped his head, placing a kiss to her shoulder, moaning softly into her skin. Pleasure radiated throughout her body at every point of contact his skin had with hers, burning the brightest where the two of them connected. Even more so as Joel started to gradually speed up, still making long deep thrusts, but a little faster each time.
The bed started creaking beneath them, mixing in with the sound of their sensual moans as well as their skin slapping together in time with Joel’s thrusts. A cacophony of pleasure swirling around the room and serenading this moment as they finally connected in the way they always wanted to. 
The sting of Joel’s size was now long forgotten as Y/N savored in the pleasure of him. Her arms were wound tightly around his neck, holding his head into her shoulder. She could feel his lips pressing into her skin, leaving deliberate kisses after each thrust. Her legs soon followed the same pattern as her arms, looping around his waist, pulling his body in close. Now there was no part of them left untouching. 
His own arm soon snaked around her waist, drawing her in even closer if that was possible, her clit now firmly pressed against his pelvic bone. Y/N threw her head back with a deep moan, Joel’s lips attaching to her neck in record time. The heat low in her stomach returned from before, signifying that everything soon would come crashing down in a crescendo. 
Joel’s cock twitched inside of her as he felt her walls fluttering around him. His own impending orgasm weighing heavy in his chest. He pulled his lips away from her skin.
“Look at me.” He said softly, despite the fact that his thrusts became sloppier by the second, his pace staggering as he involuntarily thrusted harder inside of her.
Y/N— despite struggling under the onslaught of her own oncoming orgasm, opened her eyes for him, meeting his soft brown gaze as they chased their highs. It was strange to see that gaze in this context, especially since the first time she saw it she would have never guessed this is where it would bring her. But now that she was here she couldn’t ask for anything she wanted more.
Except for one thing.
“Kiss me.” She said in return, and since Joel couldn’t deny her of anything, he did just that, bringing their lips together in a tender kiss. The touch of it sending Y/N over the edge.
Joel felt as she came around his cock, squeezing onto him like a velvet vice, her cum gushing out around the base of him, soaking his skin. He moaned deep and heavy at the sensation, his own orgasm on the precipice. He placed his thumb on Y/N’s clit— hoping that will be enough to help her down from her high— as he pulled himself out of her.
He grunted with each spurt of cum splattering itself onto Y/N’s stomach, his free hand tight around his shaft, the length of it jerking in his hand. His thighs tensed as his orgasm shot out from his hips, shoulders trembling from the pleasure of it all, his heart racing.
Then, as the euphoria began to fade, his legs were weak as he sat back on his knees, chest heaving as he looked down at the mess he made on his beautiful wife. 
His cum was shining white against her skin, the gleam of it reflecting in the moonlight as her stomach moved up and down with each passing of her shallow breaths. Her limbs were limp against the mattress, eyes hooded as exhaustion took over her form. He smiled softly at the sight of her, sliding a hand underneath her to bring her up to his level. He pulled her into his lap, holding her flush against his chest—  not caring that his cum was now smeared across his own stomach.
“You did so well, sweetheart.” He whispered to her, stroking his knuckles across her cheekbone, she leaned into his touch, humming in content. Joel leaned forward, placing a kiss on her forehead.
They sat like that for a minute, savoring the silence between them and the embrace of their lover. But it didn't last too long as Joel spoke once more.
“Come on.” He abruptly said, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, taking Y/N with him as he did. She whined when she realized she was being pulled away from the comfort of a warm bed.
“What? Why? I wanna sleep.” She argued when her feet hit the wooden floor beside his own, moving to dive back under the covers. He caught hold of her before she could.
“We gotta wash up.” Joel countered, pulling her towards the door that sat in the corner of the room, the mystery (that was not so mysterious) soon to be revealed.
“And then we can go to bed?” She questioned, as her shaking legs became more willing to follow him
“Not quite.” Joel grinned, guiding her into the shower. When she offered him a look of confusion at his words, he answered the question written on her face.
“We still have to make dinner.”
And soon, after all the proof of their passion was washed clean from their skin, underneath swirling puffs of cedar-scented steam and occasionally interrupted by stolen kisses, the two of them made their way down to their kitchen. And an hour later, as they sat across the table from one another, under the golden glow of their kitchen light. They divulged in their carefully prepared meal, sharing shy smiles and fleeting glances between each bite. The sight of them alone contradicting any statement that the island they resided on didn’t live up to its name. 
~~~
A/N: honestly this fic was born because of the smut scene in the kitchen, i can't lie 😩 and then i rewatched the music video for adore you by harry styles so i wanted this oneshot to be something romantic and whimsical in it's nature, so i hope that came across. Is it corny? yes! but I had so much fun writing this so i hope you had fun too!!! thank you so much for taking the time to read my work !! and now i'll be leaving, goodbye forever!! <33
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rottenblur · 9 months
Text
study break part two|J.MILLER
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gif credits to @shirks-all-responsibilities not mine!!!
bestfriends dad!joel 3.3k. part one is pinned on my page
Summary; A awkward breakfast after your previous, steamy makeout sesh the night before. Luckily sarah is long gone at some cowboys house party, leaving you and joel alone. When he interrupts your study session to have a conversation more touching than talking happens.
WARNINGS: girthy age gap, reader is in 20’s, joel in late forties, head m (joel) receiving, fingering f receiving (reader) ,virgin reader (implied), best friendsdad!joel, make out sesh, grinding, lots of praise, use of darlin’, unrequited  pining by tommy, alcohol use (not reader) smut, to be honest actually the filthiest thing I’ve wrote. way too many cherry popping references BLAME TOMMY NOT ME!! (legit said twice out of the whole god damn thing im being dramatic) handjob HEHE, joel being possessive. slightly inexperienced reader or maybe shes just shy bout it? face fucking major dirty talk
You sit down for breakfast at the cold, marble island in the middle of Joel's kitchen, the quietness of the early morning making you remember everything from last night. The feeling of Joel's warm lips against your cold skin, his body pressed up to yours, echoing of "good girl" fills your ears, the feeling of his-. Your thoughts are bluntly cut off, the sound of two pittering footsteps coming down the stairs. You gaze over, it's Sarah.
With a full outfit and makeup on even though it's just 8AM. Bubbly as always, you learned from your times sharing an apartment off campus with her that she is, genuinely the biggest morning person to exist. Her soft footsteps are followed by heavy ones as Sarah jumps off the last step, Joel appears In all of his morning glory. Messy salt and pepper hair, heavy eyes, a tight black shirt, and grey fucking sweatpants. He's just teasing you at this point if you weren't already blushing from those thoughts from just a couple minutes ago about him you would definitely be blushing now.
You stare for a minute too long as he yawns, Sarah spins you around in your chair. Giving you a quick peck on your cheek as Joel drifts over to the sink, pouring himself a glass of water and sipping it, while leaning against the counter. Sarah hugs you tightly, then looks at you "Sleep okay?" she says. You nod and she smiles, Joel clears his throat, and Sarah sits next to you.
“What’d you girls want for breakfast?" he said with the most breathtaking, attractive morning voice. Sarah must have woken him up, Sarah thinks for a minute then decides. "Pancakes with whipped cream?"
Joel goes to the fridge to see if they have all the ingredients for the meal, and they do. He puts on a pot of coffee while you and Sarah talk about boys and college. Gazing over at Joel every couple of minutes, you're met with his very own eyes staring at you. Every time you caught him staring he looked back down at the pancakes he was whipping up, and a tint of red comes to his cheeks. He sips his coffee and waits for the pancakes to cook. He looked so domesticated like this, with messy hair
the smell of coffee in the air, dripping coffee falling onto the counter creating a ring around the mug. The smell of pancakes as he hunches over the stove checking to see if they are done. Glances back to you to see if you're looking at him, to see if you're real. If last night was real.
The last pancake was at last done. Joel calls out for Tommy to let him know breakfast is ready. oh god, Tommy. fuck. you think to yourself Sarah interrupts your thoughts of him staring at your ass last night. "Oh I forgot to mention, Tommy is my uncle he lives here." Joel turns around with a smirk "Oh they've met." Placing the pancakes in front of the two of you then goes to the fridge to put the whipped cream on top. Tommy races up the stairs from the basement and walks into the kitchen glancing at Joel and then at you, for a minute too long. "Good morning" Sarah says the same back, then he looks down at the pancakes, sitting next to you."pancakes whipped cream on top with no cherry" he remarks.
Joel notices the wordplay on it before you do, the look on Joel's face towards Tommy makes you really know what he meant. You just reply with a nervous laugh and dig into your pancakes. Tommy and Joel in unison stare at the way the cream is messily pouring over your lips and dripping down your chin.
Later on, at about 9PM, you are watching a new film with Sarah in her bedroom. her bedroom looks as if it hasn't changed since she was a preteen the baby pink walls match her sheer curtains.
Stuffed animals still litter her bed with a large purple duvet covering it, tiny wollen blankets kicked down to the bottom. Her phone dings and she looks at the notification and immediately sits up with a smile-ridden giggle, you look at her with a puzzled look. "GUESS WHO JUST GOT INVITED TO A HOUSE PARTY" she almost practically yells.
She rolls around on her bed and jumps up running over to her closet." good for you, whose party?" You ask as she strips down, trying on different outfit options." Remember that guy from our history course?" You tilt your head. "Wanna try to be a little more specific?" She looks almost insulted, "The whole yee-haw cowboy guy"
You scrunch your face up he wasn't hot but Sarah had a weird taste."Good luck with your cowboys I guess" she throws on one more outfit, smiling and jumping up and down."You're invited I know that like-" you cut her off "yeah I'm not going to some cowboy house party no. fucking. thank you." She smiles
"I assume this big girl can handle fending for herself, if not my dad and Tommy are at the bar in the basement. Don't be shy" She hugs you and leaves her room. You follow her out and walk her out the door.
Before you go upstairs to study you think it might be a good idea to at least, notify Joel that she was going out, in case she needed a ride. Maybe you just wanted to speak to him, even just glance at him.
You walk down the lit-up steps going down to the basement. A very modern house, "did he do the remodeling?" you think to yourself.
You reach the bar and are met straight away with the sound of music booming out of a speaker. Joel and Tommy hunched over the bar counter. You clear your throat, and they turn around in unison Joel's eyes soften and Tommy's go dark with need." You need anythin' darlin' er just looking for a drink. He holds his glass of whiskey to u, the ice jingles.
You smile then look to your feet, "Sarah went out thought I'd let ya know in case she needs a ride later or something." He smiles and before Joel can speak Tommy interrupts him, "Ah what a sweet girl, lookin' out for her girl always isn't that right sweetheart?"
Joel punches him on his thigh as a way to say knock it off, he laughs and holds his arms up in defense. He's long gone from what you can tell. "I guess" you awkwardly say, Tommy gets up and stumbles making a fool out of himself. You hold back a laugh and start to walk away "Jesus Tommy the fuck is wrong with you scaring the poor girl". You hear Joel say, as you walk back up the stairs.
You're long in concentration typing, writing notes with music playing in your earphones. A song plays and it reminds you of Joel you smile to yourself and try to get him out of your head.
You stretch your back then stand up pulling off your pants and stripping your sweater off to just be left in your white tank top and white panties, lace around the edges to match your tank top.
You sit back down, putting your headphones back in. You continue studying for another good twenty minutes, and when you feel a large hand touches your shoulder you jump.
The hand pulls back and grips the chair behind you. Pulling out your earphones and turning to look who it was, a relief it's Joel. "Didn't mean to scare ya darlin' just wanted to check-" he takes a glance down at your body, slower than he has before then back up to your face. "-To see how you're doing without Sarah here, didn't mean to interrupt your studying".
You smile, copying him looking him up and down you stop at the slowly building tent in his pants you quickly look back up at him with a blush, he smiles knowing exactly what you were blushing at. "Uh I needed a study break anyways". You stand up and walk over to the bed sitting on the end. Joel's gaze follows you then his body.
He stands in front of you just admiring you. "I'm doing okay not like we were really doing much, not really a cowboy party kind of p-" He sighs and takes a step closer, your knees touching his legs now."God if I thought that lil pajama set was skimpy, I can't 'magine what you'd call what ya wearin' right now." The last part almost came out as a growl.
The harshness of his words, how close he is to you is damping your panties. He reaches to touch the lace strap on your top, completely melting into his touch.
He pushes your knees apart with his own, the denim rubbing against your bare skin. He looks down, you hide your face with your arm, if you weren't blushing before you'd definitely be purely red up to the top of your ears now.
Your knees are so weak you think if you had to stand up right now you fall straight to the floor.
A smirk comes to his face, and he moves your arm away holding it tightly on the bed."My my darlin' those pretty little panties are ruined, such an easy thing you are." It's hard to breathe now, your hands fists the blanket. Joel reaches down touching slit to clit over your soaked panties.
you let out a soft quiet whimper of his name. He pulls his hand away, and you sigh at the loss. He furrows his eyebrows looking at your open mouth, putting his wet fingers into his mouth and sucking. Pulling them out with a pop followed by a grown, the smirk coming back to his face bigger than before." such a good girl being this wet for be 'nd I've barely touched ya."
You whimper at his words "Please touch me joel, I need you." He laughs slightly at your words then unbuckled his belt pulling it off with one hand, the other reaching out to hold your face.
He unbuttons and pulls the zipper down, revealing a sliver of skin and his dark blue boxers. He tilts your head up, and you can see the need in his face way more prominently than Tommy's need earlier. you almost moan at how hot it is.
You swear you're dripping onto the bed by now creating a puddle of your own need and you're just sitting in it, for him.
"Do you want this baby?" He pulls his jeans down slightly revealing the tent in his boxers, it looks way bigger not being trapped in his pants the tip leaking precum, wetting a spot on his boxers.
You nod he shakes his head and grips his bludge "I needa yes darlin'" you smile. "I want it Joel, I haven't stopped thinking 'bout it since last night"
You put your hand on his he pulls his away, you pull down his boxers to below his balls then he sits next to you.
"God. Holy fucking Jesus." You thought.
You'd felt it in his jeans rubbing against you. He was massive then and now with it actually exposed, you couldn't put into words how big he was. Harder than last night, precum dripping out the warm red tip, thick veins covering his length. The girth alone has your mouth watering.
"Holy fuck Joel it's so-" he brushes a strand of hair behind your ear then gets close to your ear to whisper "Big? ya think you can take it sweet thing? Want me to stretch out that sweet little pussy of yours."
All you can manage is a whimper then he grabs your face and kisses you.
Starting out slow and sweet then the more moans and whimpers that are shared, it heats up. Getting rougher, more aggressive.
You pull away to spit on your hand, and he watches you "Uh uh no spit. I want you to stick those pretty little fingers into those soaked panties and use you."
He takes your hand wiping it on his jeans, pulled down to his mid-thighs. You look to him as you embarrassingly lower your hand, he nods when your hand finally dips into your panties feeling around to collect some of your wetness he groans muttering "fuck" under his breath.
You pull your hand out making your panties snap back at you, Joel's eyes are stuck on your dripping fingers.
you grip Joel rubbing the tip with your thump, then moving your hand down to his base coating every last inch with you.
Your fingers don't touch around his girth. "Good girl" A moan slips out. You quicken your pace "good fucking girl" a whimper slips out this time, you focus your hand around the tip moving your hand up and down. Occasionally just rubbing the red dripping tip.
"Ah just like that..ugh don't stop." His breathing is heavier, his head thrown back only coming back down to look at you and your hands wrapped around him. If he stared at you the whole time he would cum right there and then.
You decide to add your other hand to focus better on all of his length or at least as much as your two fist covers, three hands would cover him fully but you don't have that.
Adding the second hand was the best idea you ever came up with in your life, the whimpers outweighing the moans and the mindless words coming out of him right now are fucking. golden.
"Oh fuck look at ya, your ugh sweet ah lil hands are barely fittin' around me." He jerks his hips up into your hands.
"Just like that.. oh you sweet fuckin' thing." Another hip buck this time he looks at your hands wrapped around him, his face screws up a loud whimper followed by a moan falls out.
"Just like that ohh darlin' I love your fuckin' hands" He jerks into your hands a couple times in a row desperately.
His breathing is at an all time high, sweat is forming on his forehead the whimpers don't stop.
"Ah darling fuck, fuckin' god 'm gonna ugh". You pull your hands away, looking up at him. "Darlin' why'd you stop-" You stop his words by putting his leaking tip into your mouth, sucking it, and swirling your tongue.
"Fuckkk your mouth is straight fuckin' gold" You start bobbing up and down, taking only about a quarter of his length into your mouth, working the rest with your hand.
Joel groans grabbing your hair, he fucks into your mouth the tip hitting the back of your throat makes you gag.
He groans, starting to face fucking into you making you repeatedly choke and gag on him. "mm listen to my good girl choking 'nd gagging all over my dick, I love your throat darlin', such a ugh good fuckin' girl".
You pull back slightly and he pulls you right back down, pushing him even deeper into your throat. The loudest moan you've heard slipped out of him.
His pace quickens, roughly fucking down your throat. "Ah fuck 'm gonna cum, all down this sweet fucking throat."
He grabs your throat feeling himself fuck into your throat, squeezing it to get an even tighter grip around him.
A grunt followed by warm ropes being shot down your throat, with one last thrust and he pulls you off with a pop. You look up at him with teary eyes, spit ropes connecting you to him. "you look so fucking sweet like this, all fucked out by me, all fucking mine."
He tucks himself back into his boxers, sheds his pants, and climbs up on the bed. You follow him, straddling him and pulling him into a kiss.
He holds your hips grinding you on him, deepening the kiss. Teeth and spit are frequent in your inability to focus with how needy you are.
He flips you over kissing you for a couple seconds longer before pulling away and him adjusting to lay on his side facing you. Pulling your top off and discarding it on the floor, his face falling into your neck, he kisses and sucks, a moan falls from your lips.
He moves further down littering your collarbones and chest with dark purple hickeys. "I want everyone to know you're mine. Fuckin' Tommy can't hold himself back from what is mine, you're mine ya hear me?"
You whimper at his words, clenching your thighs together, he moves his hand down to grope your chest. "Yes Joel, ah all yours"
He's pleased with your response, he attaches his lips to your chest, moving his hands down your body memorizing every spot that he touches, that makes you squirm.
Reaching your panties he gets back on top of you, kneeling between your legs and grabbing your panties, you lift your hips for him and he tugs them off faster than you can think right now.
He eyes your dripping core almost drooling. "Look at that pretty little pussy all ready and beggin' for me."
He leans forward dragging two thick fingers over your aching clit, you whimper at his touch. Dragging lazy quick circles on it, your back is already arching at his experienced digits.
"Next time I'm fuckin' devouring this sweet pussy of yours." Drawing out a moan from you that you tried to suppress with no luck.
He quickens his pace on your clit, putting his other hand to your fluttering hole. He drags his fingers around your slit before entering, his two digits enter stretching you out deliciously.
You gasp, and your back arches as he starts to pump them in and out of you. "Jesus you're so fuckin' tight, nothin' but you has been in here am I right baby?"
You nod, you're so fucked dumb right now. All from just his fingers.
His eyes are glued to the way your hole eats his fingers right up, his fingers keeping a steading pace pumping in and out of you, the circles he's rubbing all on your clit.
You feel your orgasm building, but before you even say anything Joel is already saying it for you.
"Good fucking girl, already fluttering around my fingers, clenching them right tight, I know baby let it go. Cum for me." He inserts a third finger into you the stretch is insane, his fingers reaching places you could never no matter hard you would try.
He hits that soft spongy part in you, absolutely throwing you over the edge. You throw your head back and clenching your thighs together, but he keeps fucking you through your orgasm.
Joel's fingers have put you in a haze, you never wanna come out of, a feeling you never want to end.
He pulls his hands away, kissing you till your breathing slows down. The haze wearing off, and you're now wrapped up in Joel's arms laying on his chest.
When the sound of buzzing comes from Joel's jeans pocket, on the floor you lift your head up to look at him. He slowly gets up to check it showing it to you.
He answers it you can hear the muffled sound of drunk Sarah. "Sarah?' Joel says getting up, putting on his jean as he tucks his phone between his face and shoulder. "Dadddddddd, I'm fucking wasted come pick me up please, thank you WITH a cherry on top." He laughs. "Okay, text me where you are."
He hangs up, pocketing the phone then leans over to kiss you on your forehead.
"Good luck she's gonna beg you for food all the way home" he smirks "Oh I know." You give him a hug, a tight one.
"You did great darlin' get some sleep now, only sweet dreams for the sweetest girl."
You smile and nod, He leaves. Shutting the door, tip-toeing down the stairs. You get the energy to get a shower, put on some clothes before tucking yourself into bed and closing your eyes.
you do have the sweetest dreams ,, dream about joel all in your guts. if that counts.
part three: here
Check out my javi fic linked in my masterlist
an!!!! god OH MY FUCKING GODDDDDD. the amount of "good girl" in this fic makes me kinda think the reader might be a good girl?? I think I might have early on arthritis from this lmao. I stared this yesterday morning took about a ten hour break and only finished it TODAY at 9AM after pulling a all nighter. writing this fueled by many large iced coffees and the support of my friends, will now be working on my boyfriends!dad joel fic now might be a couple days before the next chapter comes out. reader giving that SLOPPY TOPPY lots of smut too much smut.
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hellsenthero · 9 months
Text
Sweet and Salty.
Written by: hellsenthero
Joel Miller X FemReader
Warnings: Language, smut. (1.6K words.)
The people of Jackson know you and Joel are a packaged deal. Unfortunately, the new guy in town doesn't get the memo.
_______
The people of Jackson didn't really understand it, how it worked, the dynamic.
You were young and soft and sweet and kind. You wore sundresses that showed off your pretty legs and made flower crowns for all the children. 
Joel was the complete opposite. He was older, had salt and pepper hair and wrinkles around his eyes when he'd squint up at the sun. He was rough, had calloused hands and a gruff voice. He wasn't some kindly Saint like man that crafted with flowers in his free time for children. Hell, Joel could hardly get a damn comic for Ellie when he really worked for it.
You were glowing, always, like a vibrant sunrise on the horizon. Joel blended in, and when he did stand out he was like a jagged rock among sand, sharp and dangerous and not quite right. 
Despite your many obvious differences, the one thing that the people of Jackson did understand was that you and Joel were a packaged deal, you didn't get one without getting the other. 
But, it seemed that the new guy in town didn't get the memo. 
"Let me get you another drink," Ken, Kevin, whatever his name was said. You didn't particularly care about the man, his name, or his drinks. 
"No thanks, I can get my own." The wave of your hand does nothing to stop Kyle in his hopeless pursuit of getting in your pants. 
"Two more." Carter says to the bartender. After you get your second, free, drink Calvin gives you a wink and you have to draw the line. 
"You see that man standing in the corner-there-over to your right?" You point your finger over to Joel who stands with a firm scowl on his face, his arms crossed as his dark eyes stab into Cody. "That's my husband," you go on and you can't keep your smile off of your face, "and he's about one minute away from dragging you out of here and breaking your legs." Kit looks between Joel, then you, then Joel, then back to you, his smirk no longer plastered to his face. "And I like watchin' him get rough, so if you don't want to-" you didn't even finish your sentence before the man was standing up and stumbling away from the bar, his hard up in the air in surrender before hightailing it out of the bar. You're left alone for only a brief moment before a warm, hard chest presses up against your back and you smile into your drink as you take a sip. 
"What'd you say to the bastard to get him runnin' like that?" Joel's gruff voice sounds from behind you. 
"Hmm," you hum as you suck on the ice in your drink. "Nothin' that ain't true." 
Joel chuckles as he lays a hand on your shoulder, giving you a gentle squeeze as he leans in close to your ear. "Atta girl." 
You're quick to finish your drink before turning and grabbing hold of your husband's belt buckle, a clear claim of mine to everyone in the bar. "Let's go home." 
Joel's eyes flick between your eyes and where you grab hold of him. "Tired?" He asks, already knowing the answer. 
"You know damn well I'm not tired, Joel." 
Joel smirks before taking a step back and throwing an arm out towards the bar door. "Lead the way, ma'am." You roll your eyes but do as he says. 
You pull Joel into your front entrance before slamming the door shut. Joel opens his mouth, no doubt ready to call you out on your aggressive behavior, but before he can get a word out, your lips are pressed to his, and your hands are grabbing onto him.
"Needy girl," humms Joel once you break for air. You can't help but laugh and nod along. 
"Just for you." You admit and that has Joel growling and grabbing onto your hips. 
"You better start makin' your way to the bedroom before I fuck you right here." Joel nods to the floor of the entryway and you have half the mind to just let him take you on the floor right there, but you know you'd both prefer the comfort of your own bed right now. 
"Fine," you grumble with one last kiss before you make a quick getaway to your bedroom. You begin peeling off your dress and bra on your way there, and you can hear Joel's chuckle as he admires your trail of clothes. "Common, slow poke!" You call out behind you.
"Commin', just admirin' the view." 
When Joel enters the bedroom, his t-shirt is gone, leaving him bare from the waist up. 
"You got too many clothes on." You complain. 
"Funny," Joel drawls as he climbs up on the bed and over you. "I was just gonna say the same thing to you." You don't get a chance to answer before Joel's peeling off your underwear and tossing them somewhere on the floor. "I can already see how wet you are baby," Joel drags a finger through your center and you bite your lip in pleasure. "All this for me?" You nod, past talking, but Joel's having none of it. He pinches your clit and you squeal, your legs clamping around his hand. "Words, baby, use your fuckin' words."
Your legs open up again and Joel rubs circles over your clit and you rush out with an admission. "Yes, Joel, it's all for you. Fuck, baby, you make me feel so good." 
"Good girl." Is the last thing Joel says before he dives into your center. His hands hold your legs apart as he feasts on your center, licking, sucking and fucking you with his thick fingers. You're so lost in the pleasure of him that you don't realize his clothed cock is humping the bed in desperate relief. 
"Fuck," you cry out, "fuck me, Joel." 
Joel's dark eyes meet your own gaze as he pulls away from your center for a moment. "I'll fuck you like you want once you come in my mouth." 
"Fuck," you breath, absolutely loving the filth coming from his mouth. "Don't stop." You beg. Joel didn't bother answering before his mouth was on you again. Your hand grabbed into his gray laced locks of hair as you fed yourself to him, rolling your hips as much as you could under his firm grip of you. "Yes,yes,yes,yes,yes," you chanted as your climax climbed higher and higher, nearly reaching its breaking point. "Please, Joel, please," you begged, not really knowing what you were begging for. As Joel added another finger into you, you reached your high. "Fuck, yes Joel! I'm coming, fuck, don't stop!" You broke off in a loud moan and if you weren't experiencing a fucking fantastic orgasm, you would've been incredibly embarrassed at how loud you were being. Joel ate you out your entire climax, only stopping when you went to push his head ahead from your sensitive center. Joel's head came up from between your legs, his lips and facial hair covered in your juices. He licked his lips once before he pressed his mouth to yours and you could taste yourself on him. "Now, Joel, please, fuck me now." You begged again. 
"Well," Joel drawled, "since you asked so nicely." Finally, Joel took his pants off. The sound of him undoing his buckle and zipper had more wetness pooling at your center in anticipation. Right as he lined himself up with your center Joel kissed you and you moaned into his mouth as he pushed his cock into you. 
"Fuck!" You exclaimed as he gave an experimental thrust into you before drawing nearly all the way out of your center. Your legs wrapped around him, urging him to push back into you. "Common, Joel. You said you would fuck me." 
Joel's only warning was a nip at your ear before he began thrusting all the way into you. His cock hammered into your center, hitting that spongy spot in you that had you nearly screaming in pleasure with every thrust. 
"Fuck," Joel groaned as pleasure crawled up his spine. He was trying to hold back on coming too early. He wanted you to have another orgasm first. "Fucking take it,"
"Yes!" You cried out as he hit that magical spot on you once more and it had your toes curling. "I'm coming Joel, holy, oh my God," Your legs squeezed Joel tightly to you as your second orgasm rushed through you. You threw your head back and Joel took the opportunity to suck one of your nipples into his mouth while one of his hands grabbed the other. 
You let out a small squeak at the oversensitivity of Joel pounding into you, but you could tell by his sloppy thrusts that he was on the brink of coming. 
And sure enough, one, two, three, thrusts later, and Joel's stilling above you as his hot come fills you up. Once his last spurt is done, he remains still for another moment before he thrusts one more time into you.
"Good girl," He praises before rolling to the side and pulling you on top of him. You laugh once you realize his plan for the evening. 
"Want me to cock warm you?" You ask, already knowing the answer. Joel's rumbling hum is answer enough. "Okay," you sign in pleasure and let your eyes drift closed, uncaring of the swear and coming sticking to your body. You feel Joel press a gentle kiss to your collarbone, and then you're drifting into the darkness.
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anama-cara · 3 months
Text
The Healer: Bargaining finale (part 5/5)
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4. Joel Masterlist
Raider!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader
Summary: You finally reach the doctor's house with Joel and your sick little brother and you show Joel your appreciation. Reader's thoughts in italics. Word count: 2.7k
Warnings: 18+ mdni, sickness/fever, age gap, unprotected PIV
a/n: I wasn't sure how to end this. At first I had a much darker ending but I decided that I liked these characters too much so I added some *feelings*. Please let me know what you think
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You had awoken to the sounds of birds chirping and soft breathing. Joel’s arm was draped over your waist and his hand rested on your stomach. It was pleasantly warm. In your mind you pretended that you were sleeping next to someone who actually cared. You imagined it was real. That you could have a companion that loved and protected you, that you could wake up like this next to them in the mornings. It was a nice daydream, but just that. That kind of dream didn’t exist in this new world, nothing good survived. And you certainly had no hope of finding a good man like that to love you.
Joel’s arm twitched in his sleep and you were pulled from your daydream and into your memories from the night before. How his lips felt on your neck, how his hands felt on your body, how his voice sounded as he said your name, how his fingers felt inside you.
For a moment you keep your eyes closed to the world and sink into the comforting feeling. Listening to the songbirds, letting the first rays of sunlight filtering through the tree dance over your closed lids, feeling Joel’s chest rise and fall against your back. You draink it all in, you hadn’t experienced a moment this peaceful in a long time.
There’s a rustle from the sleeping bag across the fire and you jump. Shit. What are you thinking?
You remind yourself that this is Joel, the leader of the band of raiders that terrorizes your countryside. He is not a good man, even if he is helping you, which he really isn’t, this is on just his way.  Suddenly you feel shame, you can’t believe that you let him make you cum, let him hold you, sleep beside you. You curse yourself for being so foolish and letting yourself go last night.
Sleeping beside a fucking criminal, a bully, a killer. A fucking menace. What the hell were you thinking?
You wriggle out of the bag and jump to your feet. To your relief your little brother just rolls over, still sounds asleep. You let out a breath.
“Scared of getting caught?” Joel’s voice is rough with sleep but you can hear the smile on his lips.
“Come on get up,” you kick him in his sleeping bag. “The sun is up we gotta go.”
“Ok bossy,” he grumbles as he rubs his palms over his eyes with an exaggerated yawn.
You wake up your brother as Joel packs up the camp and you’re heading out for the last leg of your journey before the sun is fully risen.
---
You’d been diligently following a few yards behind Joel, carrying your brother in your arms. He seems to get weaker with every step. In the last mile he doesn’t even respond to you when you call his name. He’s just limp in your arms and you can feel his fever burning through his clothing. You make a desperate sound as you try to shake him awake.
Joel’s head whips back. “What’s wrong?” He turns and retreats back to you.
“He won’t wake up,” your voice trembles as you’re trying not to panic. You hold back the tears that threaten to brim over.
“Jesus sweetheart why didn’t you say somethin.” He moves to take the boy from your arms but your grip tightens.
“What are you doing?” There’s fear in your accusation.
His eyes rack over your face, reading your expression. “You don’t trust me,” he says flatly but his expression almost looks hurt. He takes a breath and a hard expression returns to his face. “We gotta move a whole lot faster. If you don’t want him to die we gotta get to the house and get this fever to break.” Joel takes your brother from your arms and you don’t fight him this time. He takes off in a jog and you run after him, trying to keep up.
--
The house looks similar to yours, farmhouse style with a big front porch. Its white paint is peeling and there are a few cracked windows on the top floor but in all its still in good condition. As you come up the dirt drive you see a thin man in his late 60s watching from the window. After he sees the boy Joel is carrying, he disappears from the window only to reappear in the doorway. He sets his rifle down on the table and comes out onto the porch to meet you.
“Joel,” the man gives a stiff nod in greeting. His eyes dart to you then back to Joel.
“Doc,” Joel gives a nod. There’s respect but no friendliness there. Joel dips his head in your direction, “This here’s one of your neighbors, and this is her little brother. He’s got a bad fever and needs your help.” The doctor narrows his eyes at you and Joel, but when he looks down at the child in Joel’s arms his expression softens. “Of course, bring him in.”
You follow the him inside and Joel sets the boy down on the couch. The old man looks at you, “I’ll require a payment of course. What supplies have you brought to offer?”
“What I don’t, I-“ you stammer in a panic but Joel interrupts you.
“You and I will discuss payment later. You help him first.”
The man’s gaze shifts from you to Joel, he pauses a moment then nods in agreement. “Very well. But if he needs antibiotics the price will be doubled. Upstairs.”
Joel carries your brother upstairs and sets him in the bathtub. “Out,” the doc instructs him then turns to you. “You, undress him and fill the bath. Lukewarm. We’ll try to bring his temperature down. I’ll go get him a glass of water, we need to keep him well hydrated.” You tend to your brother for hour before the fever finally breaks. You help dress him and carry him to a bed in one of the guest bedrooms on the top floor. You go to sit beside him but the doc shoos you from the room. “No, he needs rest, out, out.” Exhausted you return downstairs and plop down onto the couch.
You must have been drifting off because you’re startled when the cushion sinks as a weight sits down next to you.  
“Doc is gonna give him some medicine, says he’s got pneumonia. You didn’t hear him coughing?”
You blink, quickly trying to gather your thoughts. “Umm, yeah, I did, I just thought it was part of a cold, you know cause its winter, I mean he always starts coughing when it gets colder. I didn’t think much of it, I was just thinking of his fever. I should have paid more attention.” Your voice tightens.
“No, sweetheart that’s not what I meant,” he trails of looking frustrated then leans back into the couch. “Doesn’t matter, it’s gonna be fine, he’ll get better now.”
“Joel, how much did he ask for? He said the medicines were expensive.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“But-“
“I said don’t worry about it. I took care of it.”
You swallow, “thank you.”
His head turns to look at you, and eyebrow raised in surprise.
Tentatively you reach out and lay a hand on top of his, trying to express your appreciation. “I’m serious Joel. Thank you.”
The corner of his mouth twitches and he turns to face forward again. He lets out a sigh and leans his head back into the couch, closing his eyes and casually relaxing. You’ve never seen him like this. “Doc also said the boy needs rest so we’re gonna stay the night and leave tomorrow. Said we can sleep upstairs in the other guest room down the hall. I think he likes ya’ never seen him so generous before.”
You blink. We? “What about your mission? I thought you were supposed to meet up with your men today for a job?”
He shrugged nonchalantly. “They’ll assume I got held up. They can do it without me.”
“Joel if you need to leave-“
He opens one eye to look at you. “There’s no place I’d rather be right now sweetheart.”
You swallow and gather some courage. “Joel,” you say hesitantly. “Why are you helping me? Why tell us about the doctor, why escort us, why pay for the medicine, why be… nice to me?”
He turns to face you fully now, his hand strokes your cheek then returns to grip your hand. You instinctively tense and go to pull your hand away but you stop as his eyes lock on yours. “Don’t you get it sweetheart?”
“What?” you reply a bit breathlessly. His eyes are making you nervous.
“I care for ya.”
You feel your heartbeat quicken and you’re silent for a moment as you let his words sink in. What the fuck?
“I know, I’m sorry for how we first met, I shouldn’ta done that, but-“
“Y-you care for me?” You can barely get the words out.
Joel shakes his head. “I shouldn’ta said nothin.” He moves his hand from yours. “No, wait-“ you reach out and grip his retreating hand. Why are you holding his hand? Why is your heart aching? Why do you want him to stay?
But despite the thoughts running through your head your body is acting. You shift closer to him and your hand that reached out to hold his is now slowly moving up his forearm in a gentle caress. Joel closes his eyes for a moment at your touch. You silently urge him to continue.
“Sweetheart I know I fucked up. You were so good to me and I didn’t treat you right. I know I don’t deserve ya.” He is looking into your eyes now, desperation in his eyes. “But I swear I wanna do right by ya. I wanna be there for you, protect you, be with you.”
You don’t break away from his gaze as you move closer still. You’re just inches away from him, almost touching his chest as he stares down at you.
“I want you” he whispers.
And finally you speak the truth that you know is in your heart. “You already have me Joel.”
Your hand glides up his arm and presses against his hard chest as you lean forward to press a gentle kiss to his lips. It’s tender and sweet and like nothing either thought you’d ever experience again in this fucked up world.
You lift your body from the couch to move fully into his lap now, straddling him. Your hands wrap around his face and you lean into him, deepening the kiss and pushing him back against the couch. His hands grip at your hips and you can feel his bulge underneath you. Instinctually you rock your hips into him and he groans in your mouth. You break the kiss and nip at his neck before sliding out of his lap and onto the floor between his feet. You kneel between his legs and look up at him, one hand rubbing circles over his knee. He’s looking down at you, slumped in the couch. You smirk as you watch his tummy rise and fall with each heavy breath. He spreads his legs more and you shuffle closer to him on your knees.
A wicked smile curves on his lips, “You gonna show me just how grateful you are now? This how ya thank me?”
You nod vigorously and reach out for his belt just as you hear the floor creak upstairs. You jump up and throw yourself onto the couch, lounge back and trying to act casual. Joel lets out a barking laugh at the panic in your eyes. “I didn’t know anyone could move that fast sweetheart,” he laughs as he pats your knee. Your heart is beating fast, you completely forgot there was someone else in this house. You were about to suck Joel off in the middle of someone else’s living room while they were just a few rooms away and could walk in at any moment.
Joel smirks and grabs your hand, pulling you up. “Come on.”  He leads you up the stairs and down the hall to the guest bedroom. “Goodnight doc, see you tomorrow,” he calls out loudly then winks at you as he shuts the door and pulls you towards the bed.
He pushes you down with his hands on your shoulders. He stands before you, tall and strong, dark eyes looking down at you and you feel yourself start to get wet. He reaches for his back and grabs his flannel, pulling it off over his head. Quickly he undoes his belt and drops his boxers and jeans in one go. He steps out of his pants and stands before you, completely naked, looking like a freaking god. You’ve never seen his body before, usually he tells you to strip and he remains fully clothed. This new imbalance has your blood pumping and your core clenching. You gulp as he closes the gap between you and scoops his hands under your arms to lift you and push you all the way up onto the bed. He lays over your body, face just a few inches above yours, dark eyes scanning yours. His hand reaches down between you to undo your pants and he pulls back for just a moment to pull your pants and underwear from your body. You take this opportunity to quickly shed your shirt before he’s back over your again. He rests on his elbows and his hands come up to cradle your face, fingers intertwining in your hair as his lips crash into yours, desperate and needy and hot. You whimper against him and he pulls back after a moment.
“Joel I need you, now.”
“Sweetheart I don’t wanna hurt you again. Lemme help stretch you first, get ya ready to take me.” His hand reaches down, trailing over your skin as he moves down your body.
“Joel, I’m ready now.”
His hand moves between your legs and he grins as his fingers reach your wetness. He rubs against your clit with two fingers. “Yeah you are. So wet for me already, fuck.” He plants a kiss to your neck, sucking at your soft skin as his other hands wraps around his cock and guides it to your entrance. You suck in a breath, tensing as you brace for the pain and the stretch, used to Joel shoving into you. But this time he doesn’t. He takes his time, slowly pushing into you inch by inch, letting your body adjust. He groans, fully inside you and you can’t help looking down between you. You watch as he moves his hips and slides in and out of you easily. He catches you staring and smirks, “like that? Want it faster sweetheart?” You nod, unable to speak, and he jerks his hips, hitting something deep inside you causing your head to fall back into the pillows. Your back arches as he sets his new pace and you groan. It doesn’t take long for you to feel your orgasm building. Your hands are gripping the sheets and you’re shaking your head and moaning as it takes over you. Your body spasms under Joel’s and he holds you down with his forearm across your chest. “Fucking bronco, hang on sweetheart I’m almost there.” He continues thrusting into you as you come down from your high and after a few more deep movements he’s spilling inside you, warmth spreading through your core. His breathing is ragged and he collapses on top of you, bodies flush against each other. He tucks you in his arms then rolls both of you to the side so he’s lying behind you, cradling you in his arms.
He kisses your hair from behind. “So fucking good.” He murmurs.
You lay together like that for a long time until your both starting to drift off.
“Joel, I-, I”
“I know sweetheart, everything will be just fine now.”
You smile to yourself as you drift off, comforted by the idea that for the first time since the world fell apart you think the next day will be a better one.
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hiraeth-ink · 8 months
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Could I Be Yours (a Joel Miller fic) Part 2
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Pairing - Joel x Married Female Reader 
Series Summary - You’ve been married for two years now to your long term man Marcus, but with your dwindling sex life and your marriage on the rocks, you came to an agreement. You're allowed to sleep with other men. The only rules? 1- You have to tell your husband about it. 2- No staying the night, you always leave after sex. And lastly, rule number 3, you can’t sleep with the same man more than once. These rules are in place to avoid feelings blooming, but what happens when you meet Joel, and end up breaking all of the rules? Will it break your marriage too? If faced with a choice between Joel Miller and your husband, who would you choose? 
Read part 1 here
Chapter summary - One time with Joel was never going to be enough, questions rise in the week leading up to your second meeting and the aftermath. Will the second time be enough? And is it just sex? Or something more? 
Warnings - mentions of, infidelity/open relationship(?), alcohol, protected p in v, ass play, oral (m+f receiving), overstimulation, Joel being a sweetie, Joel being a menace,
Word Count - 8.9k
a/n - I’ve tagged everyone that asked for a part 2, I’m definitely making this into a series so more to come! I’m so overwhelmed by the love the first part got, thank you so much. 
You were dreading the moment your husband walked through the door, back from his work trip, expecting to hear what you had gotten up to while he was gone. Your mind raced with what you should tell him, contemplating whether you should lie altogether and say you didn't see anyone at all, or maybe tell him that you met someone but it wasn't anything special, or even just tell him the whole truth? Tell him that you met Joel, had the best sex of your life, stayed the night, agreed to see him again and haven’t stopped thinking about him the past two days. But how could you explain that? “Hey Marcus! I know we’ve been married for five years now and together for even longer, but I broke the agreement rules and now I’m waiting for a guy to text like a teenager with her first boyfriend!” You felt ridiculous, every time you picked up your phone you were hoping for a text from Joel, even a missed call would satisfy you, at least then you would be able to reach him. 
You had spent less than 24 hours with Joel, but in that short time he had completely overtaken your mind, his taste was on your tongue, his name in your bloodstream, his face behind your eyelids. Not only was he the best you’d ever had, he wanted to get to know you, he wanted to see you again. You started to feel that you were only hung up on him because he had shown you some much needed attention, but this felt different. Joel made you feel as if you couldn’t say no, as if you couldn’t control yourself, as if it didn't matter what was best or wise. You had already decided you were going to see him again, you just hadn’t decided what you would tell Marcus. 
—----------------------------
Marcus had let you know that he would be home later that night. In your guilt you had cooked his favourite meal, and as he walked through the front door you were taking the lasagna out of the oven, mentally cursing yourself for cooking for hours instead of deciding on what you were going to tell him. He shouted, “Hi, honey,” as he kicked off his shoes at the door, throwing his bag to the floor on the side, probably because he was expecting you to clean up, and walked towards you. 
“Hi,” you answered with a forced smile, “how was the trip?” You busied yourself with plating up the meal as he walked towards you, unsure if you could face him yet. He stood behind you, wrapping his arms around you from the back and kissing your cheek, mumbling about it being fine, but boring.  He detached himself from you as quickly as he approached you, something you would normally have been upset about, a clear sign you were not as close as you used to be, but this time you were grateful for his sudden coldness. You both sat down at the dinner table, he thanked you for the meal with a smile that didn't quite seem genuine and you ate in silence, like you usually did. 
As you looked at him from across the table, you seemed to make the same realisation again, you came to the same conclusion, you and Marcus did not belong together. You should not be his and he should not be yours. But after 12 years by his side, catering to him, caring for him and never once leaving him, you were at a loss for what to do next. You had spent your whole adult life with the man sitting across from you, and although you were no longer in love with him, you had love for him. Of course you had love for him, you had been through life together for so long, it was impossible not to. But worst of all, it was impossible to make a decision relating to the fate of your relationship when your judgement was clouded by insecurity. You were scared of what would happen if you got a divorce, scared of what you would do, where you would go. But how much longer could you live in a loveless marriage? How much longer could you keep up this lie? 
As you washed the dishes, Marcus stood next to you, watching you, before he asked, “So,” and just from that one word you knew exactly what was coming, your panic starting to rise, “how was Saturday night? Did you meet someone?”
Taking a deep breath, you prepared to lie to your husband, “I actually just went out for a couple drinks with Carrie, she called and said she had a shitty day at work so I wanted to cheer her up a bit.”
“Oh, baby,” he said in a low voice and you recognised the quick change in his eye, you had seen it countless times over you twelve years together, he wanted to fuck. You wished you could say that you wanted you, but you knew that wasn’t the case, he was just horny and he wanted to fix that. “So you didn't get your fill this weekend, huh?” he said as he walked towards you, turned off the water, grabbed your cheeks in his hands and kissed you. His kiss was soft, but not meaningful. It was gentle, but not affectionate. While he kissed you with excitement and arousal, his lips did not carry one ounce of love to yours, you felt nothing. 
Because you felt nothing, Joel was quickly returning to your mind. You remembered the way you felt everything in his touch, in his kiss. It may not have been love, but it was more than what you felt now. His touch was tender, affectionate and meaningful. His kisses were full of interest, passion and lust. And you felt all of it. These thoughts of Joel only made you want to create space from your husband, it felt wrong to kiss him with thoughts of another man clouding your brain. As his hand trailed from your cheek to your breast under your shirt, you knew you couldn’t carry on. You moved his hand away and broke the kiss, whispering, “Not tonight Marc,” You created some distance between you and him as you continued, “I’m sorry, I’m just …I’m so tired.” He said nothing, only looked at you momentarily, turned around and walked away. 
When you eventually got to bed, he left for the bathroom and upon his return you had crawled onto your side of the bed and tucked yourself under the covers. He got into the other side of the bed, but if you had not felt the bed dip beside you, you wouldn’t have noticed. He was lying next to you but he didn’t say a word. He was lying next to you but he didn’t pull you close. His lack of affection only made your mind circle back to Joel again, the way he had pulled you into his arms and kissed your forehead, Joel’s tender touches extended into the night, his kisses extended past sex and arousal. Eventually, you fell asleep to thoughts of your time with Joel. While your thoughts of Joel were increasing, your guilt was slowly dissipating, you felt as though you couldn't feel guilty for feeling this way, you couldn’t help your feelings, you would just have to take action soon. 
—---------------------------
The next day, you woke up to an empty bed, the sheets on the other side crumpled, messy and cold, much like your marriage. Rolling over to face your nightstand, you checked your phone, hoping to get ahead on reading emails before Monday morning. But before you could check your emails, you were taken aback by the top notification on your phone; a text. 
The message read: Hey sweetheart, it’s Joel. Can’t stop thinking about you. Can I take you out on Friday night? 
You read the message once, twice, three times. Your eyes fixed to your phone, sweeping over the words quickly before scanning them again, already wanting to read the words again, overwhelmed by the fact that you were on his mind, as he was on yours. Sitting up, you wracked your brain for a possible response and felt like a teenager again, not wanting to be too keen, to sound too desperate. Deciding to ignore these thoughts and answer how you wanted to, you sent a simple: Hi Joel, of course! I’ll be free after 6 :) 
Fighting the urge to jump up and down and squeal in delight, you get ready for the day ahead. Your morning shower is full of loud, unabashed singing, your morning coffee paired well with contented humming. Your excitement doubled when you received another text from Joel on your lunch break: I’ll pick you up at 7, sweetheart. 
And that was the start to your week, your week that was filled with thoughts of Joel and excitement to see him again, to feel him again. The week passed with minimal contact with Marcus, you were like two ships passing in the night, he started going to work earlier in the morning and coming home much later in the night. Most days he wasn’t home when you woke up and he was getting home just as you were going to bed. Truthfully, you had no idea where he was in the evenings, he was home early for the first time on Thursday night and claimed he was, “swamped at work,” but you weren’t sure if you believed him, although it could be your own lies that clouded your judgement of his honesty. That night, he explained that his weekly ‘guys night’ on Friday was at his friend Steve’s, and that he would likely stay over, telling you, “not to wait up.” As if you ever did anymore. 
You awoke on Friday morning to an empty bed, again, but that was at the back of your mind. At the forefront of your mind was that night's plans, and Joel. Your day at work passed agonisingly slowly, you could barely concentrate on work with your excitement and apprehension beginning to flutter in your stomach, butterflies filling your chest, turning you into a restless, mind wandering mess. You were practically counting down the minutes until you could leave, and when you finally could you raced to your car, barely saying goodbye to your co-workers before rushing home. After applying light makeup and stressing over your outfit choice for what felt like an hour, you landed on a lilac dress that was tight on your torso and showed off the perfect amount of cleavage, and flowy at the waist, stopping at your mid thigh. Pairing with short, comfortable heels you felt good, genuinely good about yourself. You felt beautiful. Checking the time you exclaim a fuck seeing the numbers 6:58 on your phone, gabbing your purse and walking downstairs to wait for him. His texts throughout the week had been short and casual, with a quick text that morning to confirm that seven was a good time to come and get you. You heard the signature sound of the doorbell ringing before you reached the bottom of the stairs, Joel was right on time. You smiled to yourself at the prospect of Joel being just as eager to see you as you were to see him. 
You took a deep breath before opening the door, and almost gasped when you saw
Joel on the other side with a bouquet of beautiful flowers in his hand and a smile on his face. He looked you up and down and let out a whistle, “You look beautiful, darlin’.” Hearing his voice again sent a shiver through your body, and seeing him again rendered you almost stupid, you barely had the brain power to say hello as you looked him up and down. He was wearing black jeans that were a loose fit but still tight where his cock rested. His black shirt was constricting around his shoulders and biceps, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows and showing off his forearms. Your eyes stopped for a few seconds too long on his chest, where the top two buttons of his shirt were undone, allowing his chest hairs to poke out, leading up to his broad shoulders and thick neck that you could lick up and down. You were shaken from your thoughts as he said, “These are for you, wasn’t sure what flowers you liked so I guessed… I hope they’re ok I-”
“These are beautiful, thank you, Joel,” you interrupted, “come in for a second, I’ll put these in some water.” You ushered him inside, grabbing a vase and filling it with water, unsure what you’ll tell Marcus about the flowers. That thought quickly left your mind when you turned to face Joel and thought about the last time you had been given flowers. Marcus had not bought you flowers for years, he had done so in the beginning of your relationship but after he had won you over, he stopped. 
“I can’t remember the last time I got some pretty flowers,” you said with a smile, your eyes flicking from the flowers to Joel, who was now walking towards you. He placed his hands on your hips and pulled you towards him, before wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing you slowly. You trailed your hands up his chest and wrapped them around his neck, falling all the way into the kiss, falling all the way into him. 
Joel pulled away slightly, his face still only inches from yours.“That’s a damn shame, sweetheart,” he said in his gruff, Texan drawl, “I’ll make sure to keep that vase full from now on.” He pressed his lips to yours once more, and all you smiled against his lips as his hands came up to cup your face gently. Joel was proving to be some sort of an enigma to you, you were completely mystified by his ability to be a sweet, tender man who could get nervous asking to see you again or ramble about being unsure what flowers you liked, but also be rough and demanding, demean you and make you come harder than ever. 
Joel kissed your forehead and then your cheek, and whispered in your ear, “we should go,” before gesturing to the front door with his hand, “The reservation’s for 7:30.” He gave your ass a quick tap as you made your way out of the door and to his car. The passenger door was opened and closed for you in true gentlemanly fashion, and Joel ran around the truck to the drivers side before stepping in and starting the drive to the restaurant. 
“So, where are we going?” You asked curiously, only now realising you had dressed for the occasion without even knowing where you were going. 
“This little Italian place that my brother recommended to me.” He wore a smirk on his face as he spoke, sneaking a glance over at you as he drove.
Joel stopped the car at a red light, “Did he say the food’s good?” You asked and he looked at you properly, his smirk growing into a full grin. 
“Oh he didn't say anything about the food,” he said after a chuckle, “just that that’s where he takes all his dates.” You scoffed loudly and Joel laughed, clearly amused by your reaction. 
“Well, if that's where he takes all his dates, the food must be pretty good,” you shrugged, earning another chuckle from Joel, the sound almost vibrating in his chest, placing a smile on your face as you watched him expertly manoeuvre the steering wheel, his upper arms tensing, causing his already tight black shirt to look even more constricting around his thick, muscular arms. He reached over to place his hand on your knee, caressing it slightly before moving to your hand and holding it in his. 
“How was your week?” He asked as he brought your hand, that was still engulfed in his to his lips, placing a featherlight kiss to your palm, “You been writing at all?”
“Work was fine,” you answered, “just lots of emails, meetings and reading transcripts; the usual.” The fact that he remembered what you had said last weekend about wanting to be a writer warmed your heart, he was proving to be more attentive than your husband already. Not once had Marcus encouraged you to commit to your passions, to go after what you really wanted in life. It made you wonder whether he really knew you, if he knew who you really were. Did he not know you or just not care enough to acknowledge that you were unhappy, that you both were. “I haven’t been writing much, sometimes I’ll jot down some ideas but by the time I get home from work I just wanna eat and sleep,” you shrugged once more, unsure if this was the truth. “How was yours?”
“Mine was alright, just the usual,” he began, “got an apprentice now, real young guy that has no idea what he’s doin’. Which is fine, he’s gotta learn somehow, but he’s almost injured me so many times this week.” He put the car in park and quickly got out of the car, running to your side and opening the door for you, “I’m shocked I have any feet left, with all the heavy shit he’s been droppin’.” You giggled as he held your hand, guiding you down and out of his truck, before walking towards the restaurant side by side. 
Joel opened the restaurant door for you, gave the host his name for the reservation and held a chair out for you when you got to the table. “Well aren’t you a gentleman, Mr Miller.” You smiled at him as he took his seat across from you, “I’ve barely lifted a finger since you picked me up.” 
The gentleman sent his signature smirk your way and simply said, “That's how it should be with an amazing woman like you,” and you couldn’t help but feel as though that was not only a compliment towards you, but also a dig towards your husband. Either way, you liked it, you had never been treated this way, and you were slowly coming to the realisation that your whole relationship and marriage, you had settled. Settled for less than you deserved, settled for the bare minimum, all because you were attached. 
Before you could respond, a waiter was standing next to the table, asking what you wanted to drink. Joel ordered a bottle of wine, looking at you with raised eyebrows when the question of red or white was raised. “White, please,” you smiled at the waiter, flicking your eyes to the man across from you as he walked away with your drink order. “Is white ok with you?”
“Honestly, I’m more of a scotch guy,” he smiled, “but yeah white is good,” he winked at you as the waiter set the wine glasses down and carefully filled them, before placing the bottle in an ice bucket and stepping away from the table. You both took a sip of your wine and smiled at each other, you hummed at the taste of the wine while Joel took a large gulp before setting his glass down again, the stem of the glass disappearing within the confines of his massive hand. 
After ordering your food, you decided to ask the question that had been on your mind for a while. “So,” you began, “I noticed all the pictures in your house, who’s the girl? Is she your niece or something?”
“That’s my daughter, Sarah.” He answered after a pregnant pause. 
“Oh,” the word left your lips before you could prevent it, sounding more surprised than you hoped. You knew that he was  older than you, but he still seemed young to have a non infant daughter. 
Clearly taking your surprise as dislike he scrambled to explain, “I wasn’t trying to keep the fact that I got a kid away from ya’, it just never came up and it's been a bit of a mood killer in the past,”
“It’s definitely not a mood killer for me, Joel. I’m sure you're a great dad,” your sincere expression and words brought a smile to his face as he sipped his wine.
“I try my best,” his words were accompanied by a small shrug, as if it was no big deal. Before you could say more, your meal was placed on the table in front of you and you heard Joel's loud exclamation of gratitude for the food that looked amazin’.
—------------------------
Following the delicious food, wine and conversation, Joel paid the bill, only slightly annoyed that you had offered to pay half, before ushering you to the truck with his hand resting lightly on the small of your back. Reaching the truck, Joel pressed you up against the truck, your back flat against it and your chest flush with his, and kissed you roughly. His lips trailed from your lips, to your cheek before kissing your ear. 
“Can I bring you home with me, beautiful?” he purred in your ear, his hands wandering your body, completely indifferent to the fact that you were in a public space. You could only hum and nod in response, your lip between your teeth as your eyes fluttered closed, focusing on the feeling of Joel’s wandering hands. He straightened up, now face to face with you and reached up to slowly pull your lip from your teeth with his thumb, holding your eye as he did. He smirked as you looked up at him, doe eyed and curious for what was to come. Not wasting any more time, he opened the door to the truck, joined you in the car and drove. 
—--------—------------------
“I want a drink,” he said when you were both out of the car,  wrapping his arms around your neck as you walked side by side to his door, pulling you closer to him so he could whisper in your ear, “and I wanna eat your pussy.” He nipped your ear before unwrapping himself from you and unlocking the door, ushering you inside. He instructed you to sit down on the sofa and wait for him while he made a drink. You busied yourself by looking around the living room, the pictures that adorned the walls of Joel, his brother and his daughter, Sarah. She was a beautiful girl, and you made a mental note to ask Joel to tell you about her. You picked up a DVD off the coffee table; Curtis and Viper 2, some action movie you hadn’t heard of. Joel walks back in as you were reading about the movie, holding a drink in each hand. 
“I know you like margaritas so I got all the stuff to make em,” he said sheepishly, passing you one of the drinks, “never made em’ before so whether they’ll be good or not is a different story.” He smiled at you as you raised your glass to his, clinking them together and murmuring a cheers before sipping your drink. 
“This is good, Joel!” You almost shout, overwhelmed by the fact that he not only remembered your drink of choice, but had gone out of his way to buy the ingredients to make one for you, and it really was a good margarita. The man looked at you with a look of disbelief, his eyebrows raised as he took a swig. “Seriously! I love it, thank you.” He let out a grunt which you assumed translated to, you're welcome, and took a seat next to you. 
He gestured to the DVD still in your hand and asked, “Are you snoopin’ through my stuff?”
“Just wanted to see what kind of movies you like,” you giggled at his accusatory tone. 
“I haven’t even watched all a’ that one, had to bail my brother out o’ jail halfway through,” the annoyance was clear in his tone, “on my birthday, no less.”
“What did he do?” you asked eagerly, your eyebrows raised in curiosity. 
“It was a bar fight,” he explained, “apparently some guy was gettin’ handsy with the waitress so he stepped in and it got out of hand.” He shrugged after explaining, as if he didn’t care why his brother was arrested, just that he had to bail him out on his birthday, half way through the cinematic excellence of Curtis and Viper 2. 
“So your brother’s a knight in shining armour, is what you're saying?” You asked teasingly, subtly moving closer towards him. 
“Enough about my brother,” he smirked, knocking back the rest of his drink before continuing, “now that I’ve had my drink, I want a taste of you,” he said before kissing you, swallowing the gasp you released. He pulled away, asked if you were comfortable and reassured you that you could stop at any time, before continuing his invasion of your lips. 
Joel was quickly stepping into his second persona as his desire grew, he was kissing you roughly, taking off your clothes and ordering you around. He stood up and, looking down at you said, “hands and knees.” 
And then you found yourself in a compromising position with your clothes long forgotten. Your knees were on the sofa, your elbows resting on the back with your back arched, ass in the air as a fully clothed Joel massaged your cheeks, groaning at the view of your soaked centre as he pulled them apart, spreading you open. 
He gives a light slap to your ass, and upon hearing your low moan he slaps the other side, a little bit harder this time. He kept going until your breath was shaky and you were letting out quiet whimpers at every slap, you were so needy you were ready to beg him to touch you where you needed him most. You let out a desperate, “Please,” and looked over your shoulder at Joel, whose eyes were glued to your glistening pussy.
“You want me to touch you, sweetheart?” He looked into your eyes and smirked, they told him that he had you exactly where he wanted you, needy and desperate for his touch.
“Please touch me, Joel,” you begged, breathless and impatient, wishing that Joel would give up the teasing and make your legs shake instead. He didn’t speak, but swiped a lonely finger up your slit, exploring your folds only for a few seconds, taking in your grateful sounds before removing his finger and going back to spanking you, hard. You could do nothing but let out surprised yelps following each sporadic slap, enjoying the sting of his palm on your skin, your wetness now dripping, spreading to your inner thighs. “Joel, please,” you begged again, feeling as though you were praying to a higher power for just a crumb, a morsel more of Joel, “I need it.” 
“Oh, you need it, baby?” He asked innocently, clearly trying to rile you up as much as possible, wanting you to be completely desperate for his touch. You looked at him over your shoulder and nodded, your brows knitted together in frustration. “Words, sweetheart,” he said, “tell me how much you need it.”
“I need it Joel. I need it,” you said, begging urgently now, craving his touch, “need it so bad Joel, please touch me, I’ll do anything.”
Joel hummed while trailing his thumb through your folds before circling your clit slowly, earning a long moan from you, finally appeased after what felt like hours of teasing. To your frustration and disappointment, his thumb left your clit before you could even get close to coming, and trailed upwards, before sinking knuckle deep inside of you. You whimpered, loving that even his thumb stretched you out. He thrusted his thumb in and out of you once, twice before removing it and trailing it upwards, stopping at your other hole and gently circling it, his touch feather light and barely there. You gasped in surprise and the circling stopped immediately. “Is this ok?” he asked quietly, his voice reassuring and you knew that if you said no, he would immediately back down and wouldn’t pressure you into anything. While you had never indulged in ass play, your stomach flipped and your pussy fluttered with a delicious feeling of anticipation while your lips let out a hushed yes. 
“Look at me when you talk to me,” he said, his voice a low growl which only made you wetter. 
You turned around, looked him right in the eye and spoke in the most confident voice you could muster, “I want your thumb in my ass, Joel.”
“Oh, fuck,” he groaned at your response, the circling of your puckered hole resuming immediately, his eyes flicking back and forth from your face to where his thumb was caressing. His eyes found a home on your face when you let out a sigh at his touch, “You’re so beautiful, sweetheart,” he brought another thumb to your clit, circling it in time with the circles on your tighter hole, making your eyes flutter closed, “so, so beautiful.”
His sweet words made your heart squeeze and your cunt flutter. How could he be so impossibly sweet at a moment so dirty? How could he have such a tight grasp on your heart in such little time? His ministrations were hurling you towards the edge, he had you gasping for breath and releasing throaty whines, all while looking back at him, looking straight at you. Until he stopped circling your clit and removing his thumb from your pussy, his other thumb was still working your ass. You were prepared to beg once more, but you clamped your mouth shut before the words could leave your lips as his tongue left fast kitten licks on your clit. 
“Oh, Joel,” you moaned as he sucked your clit into his mouth and pushed his thumb into your ass slowly, the delicious stretch mixed with his mouth encasing your clit had you running towards the cliff edge, wanting nothing more than to fall off. His tongue flicked your clit as he sucked, his thumb now thrusting in and out of your hole, and you could no longer contain yourself. Your legs were shaking, your head fell forwards to rest on the back of the couch, no longer able to hold it up. Your mouth was open, loud moans and whines leaving your lips, the noise surrounding you in the air, joining the obscene noise of his mouth on your cunt, mixed with his throaty groans. As you came down, Joel removed his thumb, leaving you empty, before going back to leaving feather light kitten licks on your clit, until your hips were lifting away from his mouth, completely overstimulated. He chuckled, leaving open mouth kisses on the backs of your thighs, before getting on his feet and trailing more open mouthed kisses up your back, gathering your hair and pulling you up with it so your back was flush to his chest, landing a passionate kiss on your lips. 
He broke the kiss but didn’t fully pull away, his lips were still only a breath away from yours. “I want your cock in my mouth,” you said against his lips, reaching your hand down to grab his hard cock from underneath his jeans, squeezing lightly, making Joel groan into your mouth. The resolve he had held so far was breaking down, the cards he held close to his chest being shown as he started grinding his cock into your hand, clearly just as desperate for your touch as you were for his. 
Joel picked up a pillow from the couch and placed it on the floor next to his feet before helping you up and off the couch and to your knees on the pillow. Now looking up at him, you watched as his thick fingers removed the button of his jeans and undid the zipper agonisingly slowly. You were craving the heavy weight of him on your tongue, craving his taste, craving his low groans. As he stepped out of his jeans and boxers, you looked up at him, his cock heavy between his legs and begging for your attention, begging for your touch. Reaching up, you held it at the base, making Joel hiss at your sudden touch. You reached your other hand up to his torso, touching his soft tummy underneath his shirt. “Take this off,” you whispered, “I want to see all of you.”
He quickly obeyed your request, taking off his shirt and granting you the beautiful view of Joel Miller in his glorious, naked form. He looked down at you, grabbed the base of himself, tapped his tip against your lips and said, “Open up, sweetheart,” with a smirk playing on his lips. You encased your mouth around the tip and sucked lightly, swirling your tongue around the tip at the same time, revelling in the sight of Joel’s head falling back and the appreciative grunts leaving his mouth. You gripped him at the base and squeezed, before quickly stroking what you didn't have in your mouth. “Fuck, sweetheart,” he said, his voice almost as low as a whisper, but still deep and sultry, “your mouth feels so good.” His praise made you want to take more into your mouth, to go faster, harder, whatever he needed to get there. You looked up at him to find him looking down at you as you worked him over, and he smiled before asking, “You think you can take all of me baby?” His voice made your pussy throb, and you realised that he could say anything to you, tell you to do anything in that voice and you would do it happily. You took him further into your mouth, trying your best to breathe through your nose and stop yourself from gagging. This effort was fruitless as Joel groaned and thrust his hips, his cock pushing into your throat and making you gag around his length, “Fuck, I’m sorry darlin,” he looked down at you apologetically. 
Spit was falling from the corners of your mouth as you responded, gasping for breath. “Keep going, Joel.” He looked at you with his eyebrows raised as if to say are you sure, but you had already taken him back into your mouth, garbling what was meant to sound like I’m sure. 
He groaned again and moved the strands of hair that fell in front of your face, gathering your hair again and holding it softly before fucking his cock into your mouth. “That’s it, atta girl,” he muttered in his low drawl, his eyes rolling back once more before landing on you again. “You look fucking beautiful with your mouth stuffed full o’ me, baby,” you were a slobbering, gagging mess, your mouth stretched wide around his cock, spit dribbling from the corners of your mouth, it was dirty, and messy and you couldn’t help but moan around his cock. Joel groaned at the sensation, muttering a, “good fucking girl,” under his breath before lifting your mouth off of his cock. “You’re gonna make me come if you keep doing that, sweetheart.” You looked up at him as if to say that's the point. “I wanna come in your pussy, not your mouth,” he responded to your wordless rebuttal, pulling you into a standing position by your elbows before gripping the backs of your knees with one hand and lifting you into his arms, carrying you bridal style up the stairs. You were a giggling mess the whole way up to his bedroom, unbelievably turned on by his strength and ability to navigate his way up the stairs while kissing you the whole way, with only one or two bumps on the way. 
He threw you onto the bed and swiftly turned you over so that you were lying on your stomach. “Hands and knees, baby,” he demanded, one that you obeyed in a heartbeat, arching your back and looking at him over your shoulder. He rolled a condom over his length and gathered the wetness from your cunt, lathering it over his cock before slapping his tip against your clit, making you jolt and moan in surprise. You opened your mouth to tell him to just put it in already, but a breathy moan left your mouth instead, as he pushed all the way inside of you in one, smooth thrust. With his hips flush to your backside, he groaned out your name, “you're so tight,” as he pulled all the way out, before thrusting all the way back in again, “so fuckin’ good.”
You moaned loudly, feeling every inch of him, every ridge and vein of his cock against your inner walls was amazing, but you needed more. You needed him fast and hard, you needed him in an animalistic way, in a way that you're sure you had never needed anyone else. “Please, Joel,” you whined while looking back at him, “I need more, I need it harder.” Giving into your whining, the man chuckled and sped up the pace of his thrusts, fucking you in earnest with his hands on your hips. 
“Is your lil’ hubby not fucking you right, sweetheart?” He growled out after a particularly hard thrust and you couldn’t help but moan at his filthy words. It turned you on that he said it, it turned you on even more that he was right. “Is that why you come to me, soaked through your panties?” His words made your walls tighten around his length involuntarily, his words were filthy and salacious. His words were also true and incredibly sexy. “Answer me,” his demand was accompanied by a hazard slap on your ass. The only answer you could give through the speed and depth of his thrusts was a loud, strained chant of yes yes yes. He bent over until his back was flush to your chest, pulled your face towards him and kissed you messily, before placing his middle finger in front of your lips and instructing you to “suck, baby.” You took his finger into your mouth, sucking on it as he told you to. You heard a whispered, “atta girl,” in your ear, the loss of his finger in your mouth quickly following the words as he straightened up, speeding up his thrusts again. You soon felt the now familiar finger of his finger circling your puckered hole, letting out a low, animalistic moan as he began to slowly push it in, revelling in the stretch of his finger in your ass. You felt so incredibly full, and it was a delicious fullness, you never wanted to be emptied of this fullness. His finger was now settled fully inside you, and your groan mixed with Joel’s, “I wish you could see what you look like right now, baby,” he muttered, his voice sounding almost like a whimper, “my filthy fuckin’ slut.”
You were sobbing and moaning, eyes watering from the intensity of your impending orgasm, unsure if your body was made to take this much pleasure at once. Deciding it definitely wasn’t, you try your best to speak. “I can’t take it Joel,” the words come out in a cry as Joel begins quickly rubbing tight circles into your clit, the finger in your ass now thrusting in and out at a fast pace. He knew you were close, and he was determined to get you there.
“Oh, yes you can, baby. Look at you, you're taking it so good,” he praised, his breathy voice making you drip. “C’mon, be my good girl and take it all,” he could tell that his filthy words were having an effect on you, your pussy closing in on his cock when he called you his good girl. 
You came with a long cry, your arms no longer being able to handle the weight of your body, your front collapsing on the bed, your cheek hitting the mattress as he continued using both of your holes mercilessly, his fingers not stopping their attack on your clit. 
Feeling you clench around him, he grew closer and closer to coming and started babbling incessantly, “that’s it baby, that's all you gotta do, just take what I give you.”
No longer able to hold off his orgasm he came with a low grunt, his hips smacking into even harder than before as he rode out his high, still praising you filthily, “my good little slut, you take it so good.” He gave a few shallow thrusts before pulling out, making you whimper at the loss, now feeling empty. Joel threw away the condom, gave you a gentle kiss on the forehead and disappeared to the bathroom. 
Hearing his footsteps returning, you rolled onto your back. Joel softly spread your legs, 
wiped your centre and inner thighs with a warm rag and, lying beside you, pulled you so close you could hear his heart beating. “So,” you began, unsure if you should bring this up, thinking that if he wanted to talk about it he would have now. Deciding to ask anyway, you continue, “is Sarah’s mom in the picture, or….” you trailed off, unsure how to finish that question. Regretting the question as soon as it left your mouth, you quickly added, “It’s ok if that's something you don’t want to talk about…. I’m just,” you trailed off again, worrying you’d crossed a line with your questioning. 
It was silent for a minute or so, save for Joel’s steady heartbeat in your ear from where your head rested on his chest, and Joel’s sigh as he traced circles on your shoulder with his fingertips. “She left when Sarah was a few months old….Just took all her stuff, left me a note and I never saw her again.” His voice was as steady as always, it was such a horrible thing to experience yet his voice held no pain, as if the pain had once consumed him so fully he never had the capacity to feel it again. 
“I’m so sorry she did that, Joel, I hope she’s sorry too.” This was the only thing you could think to say in the moment, but then again, what else was there to say? 
“If she knew anything about Sarah, she’d be pissed she spent the last fourteen years away from her,” his smile grew as he mentioned his daughter, “she’s the best thing that ever happened to me. It was hard, you know, being eighteen and a single dad but I got help from my brother. Wouldn’t change anything now.” The smile that inhabited his face when he spoke of his daughter was infectious, you had never met her, but you felt it would be a privilege to, merely based on Joel’s smile. 
“Can you tell me about her?” You asked, no longer feeling there were any boundaries or lines to cross between the two of you, and you were glad, because you wanted to know everything about him. Seeing him again and hearing him open up to you only deepened your interest, you felt a connection that you could barely explain. 
Joel turned his head to look at you and shifted slightly, so he was facing you properly, “She’s um, she’s smart as hell. Always readin’, you two would probably get along with your books and stuff,'  you interrupted him with a chuckle, delighting in the fact that you meeting his daughter crossed his mind, no matter how fleeting the thought. “She loves soccer and she's really good at it too. She's funny, always making jokes about my age and my back….. Sorry I'm rambling,” he trailed off, his cheeks growing red as you looked at him with a wide, toothy smile. Seeing this side of him, the side of him that was a caring, devoted father was new to you and you and you liked it, more than you felt you should. 
“You're not rambling, it’s sweet. I like listening to you,” it crossed your mind that you never learned his age, and so you asked with a curious tone, “how old are you exactly?” with a teasing smile. He responds with a smirk and a low chuckle, “Thirty four, darlin’. Why? That too old for ya’?” It was his turn to throw you a teasing smile as you shook your head, “And you?”.
You smiled, “Twenty nine.” he nodded, his fingertips tracing a trail down your arm from your shoulder, passed your forearms and down to your hand before interlocking your fingers with his. It made you smile, this show of physical touch, it made your heart race as you looked between your hand in his and his face, still looking at yours. While looking at his hand your eyes trailed down to his wrist and noticed that the band of his watch was escaping the buckle. With the hand that wasn’t being swallowed by his massive one, you fed the band of the watch through the buckle properly, ensuring it was tight enough to avoid falling from his wrist. 
“And you know, she fixed me this watch for my birthday,” he nodded his head towards the watch, “sure, she stole the money out of my drawer to fix it but she knew I wouldn’t do it myself. She’s like that, she’s thoughtful and kind, even if I’m always busy with work and ….not as present as I should be.” His eyes saddened as he finished speaking, his voice straining slightly. It was hard seeing a man who had fathered a child with no help from the mother for the last fourteen years, work full time to provide for her and still feel bad about his parenting skills. His love for her shone through his words like sunlight beams through blinds and his fear of shortcomings was only another piece of evidence of his love for his daughter.
“You provide for her, you care for her and you love her, Joel,” you said while moving your hand up to cup his cheek, forcing him to look into your eyes as you tried your best to reassure him that he did enough. “I’m sure Sarah appreciates everything you do for her.”
Joel said nothing, he only held his hand up to your cheek and kissed you, a soft, meaningful kiss. A kiss that said thank you, and expressed all the emotions he felt but didn’t think he could speak. The room was silent for a while after that, you both did nothing other than hold each other close, steal kisses in the moonlit room and savour each other's innocent touches. 
The silence was eventually broken by a quiet question, “Are you happy?” You had no idea where his question had come from, or what he meant by it. 
“What do you mean?”
“With him. Does he make you happy?” You felt almost paralysed with shock at his question. Although you knew the answer to his question, hearing it from Joel made you unsure how to answer. Of course you weren’t happy with him, if you were you wouldn’t be here right now, in Joel’s house, in Joel’s bed, in Joel’s arms. But you had always heard that it wasn’t that simple, that marriage was full of ups and downs, that it took work, that you wouldn’t always be happy. 
“It’s not that simple, Joel,” you said while averting your eyes from his, looking down, not wanting to see his face when he realised you were staying in a marriage you weren’t happy in. 
“So you're not happy with him?” He did not sound accusatory or judgemental, only empathetic, and you were unsure which one you would have preferred. You didn't answer, you couldn't answer him. You only looked at him, and he held your gaze, pulling you impossibly closer to his chest. Your heart melted at his attempt to comfort you, an attempt that was successful as soon as you were enveloped into his warm embrace. 
“You deserve better than that, deserve better than to be unhappy,” he muttered into your ear while stroking your back softly. It had been so long since you had felt this kind of warmth and affection, since you’d felt this comfortable and safe. 
“I know, but I’m scared,” you admitted, your voice quiet and trembling as he listened intently. It surprised you how comfortable you felt with Joel, you barely knew him, and yet you felt comfortable bearing your true, innermost thoughts and feelings to him. Your marriage problems were a subject you hadn’t fully revealed to anyone, not even your closest friends, yet here you were, practically bearing your soul to Joel, the man you only met a week ago, and hoping your naked, true form wouldn’t scare him away. 
“We’ve been together for twelve years, Joel. I might not be happy anymore, I might not even love him anymore but my whole adult life has centred around him.” You expelled a sigh before continuing, “The thought of being alone for the first time in twelve years is terrifying and…I’m just not sure if I can do it.” 
“Being alone is scary, but would you rather be alone and happy, or miserable with him for the rest o’ your life?” He kissed your cheek before continuing, “Besides, you’re not totally alone without him, you know that right?” His words were enough to bring tears to your eyes, your cheeks quickly wetting with the streams of your teardrops running down them. Joel kissed them away, pulling you closer, though it didn't feel possible before. 
“I kind of have a …. confession,” you hesitated, you wanted to tell him the whole truth of the situation but you were worried about his reaction, worried he would pull away from you. His look of confusion only added to your apprehension. “I haven’t been completely honest about the agreement I have with my husband.” He craned his neck further from you, allowing him to look at you head on as you spoke. “I can sleep with other men but we have rules too, and I've broken the rules with you.”
“What are the rules?” He asked with his brows furrowed, patiently awaiting an answer. 
“I can’t stay over after sex, I can’t sleep with the same guy more than once, and I can’t do it behind his back,” you stated, unconsciously avoiding his eye, “I’m meant to tell him everytime I see someone, but I didn’t tell him about tonight. I didn’t even tell him about the last time.”
“Why not?” The furrow in his brow had not relaxed, you couldn’t tell if he was confused or angry, his face concealed the exact emotion he felt. 
“I didn’t want to tell him that I’d had the best sex of my life while he was on a work trip.” Your explanation caused the return of his smirk, but only momentarily. 
“So, is that why you saw me again? Because of the sex?” His voice was small, he sounded shy as he asked the question, the question you had wanted to ask him. 
“No,” you said quickly, “not just the sex.”
“So why break the rules for me?” His question was a loaded one, a gun full of bullets, and your answer would pull the trigger. 
“You’re different,” you tried to explain, “I’m not sure I've ever felt so connected to somebody in such little time. I’d be an idiot not to see you again.”
Joel smiled and kissed your cheek, “I like that answer,” was the only response he gave to your explanation before murmuring a quick goodnight and closing his eyes, effectively ending the conversation and leaving you completely bewildered. You had pulled the trigger and he had dodged the bullet. 
—--------------------------
The next morning, you left Joel’s house in a hurry, you politely refused his offers of coffee, breakfast and a ride home, claiming you had things to do and needed to go. Your confusion had kept you awake until late last night, your wandering mind refused to rest. Your confession had changed everything and you felt like an idiot. Of course he didn't say he felt the same way! This is only the second time you’ve met the guy and you’re already talking about how strong of a connection you feel. 
On your way home, you couldn’t help but try and pinpoint exactly what you felt for Joel. You knew it wasn’t just sexual, although the sexual connection was certainly alive and well, you felt more than that for him. You had feelings for him, although you were unsure what the feelings were, the presence of feelings was undeniable, for you, at least. Joel’s response last night made you feel as though he was only looking for sex from you, despite his actions saying differently. You were so taken aback that he had opened up to you last night, and closed off not long after. “I like that answer,” didn’t confirm if he felt the same way and you were sure that if he did feel the same way he would have said so. You thought that you shared an unexplainable connection, currents running between you, drawing you together. But now, you were unable to resist the voice in your head that told you it wasn’t like that for him, that to Joel you were nothing but a fuck, or that he liked thought of fucking someone else’s wife. Maybe he saw you as a trophy on a shelf, the unhappy, married woman. 
Thank you so much for reading!!
Read part 3 here
Tags :
@untamedheart81 @smol-beb @harriedandharassed @southernbe
@urfknlame @sheepdogchick3 @csarab615 @janellesbody
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korebringerofded · 9 months
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I Can See You- Joel Miller X F!Reader
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Summary- Your father is the boss of a major crime family that developed after the apocalypse. Life is pretty safe and boring until your fathers new associate, Joel Miller starts coming around and he starts to change everything.
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Tags- Post apocalypse, pre!Ellie, one use of Y/N?
Warnings- Age gap, mutual pining, language, smut, mostly future smut, dirty thoughts, sexual situations and dialogue. Joel being hot and protective
Words-3500
Author Notes- Definitely doing a part two for this bad boy. I promise the next one will have so much damn spice I just gotta edit lol.
Thanks for checking out my stuff! Requests are open
Reblogs and comments are very nice please and thanks
I wanna do a whole Joel series with Taylor Swift songs soon so if anyone would like that please let me know!
Please do not copy, use my work, or put it through AI without my permission or I'll be really sad about it.
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As much as you would have loved to have just forgotten this embarrassingly huge crush you had, it was becoming increasingly more difficult to get the image of your fathers newest associate out of your head.
You honestly should have known better, considering the first time you heard the name Joel Miller was regarding how dangerous he could be, how rugged and cold. He had apparently been caught smuggling some supplies around your fathers territory and by the end of it all a deal was struck and just like that Joel was working for your father.
It was the first time that you came in contact with him that really doomed you to fall for him so completely. You couldn’t say what exactly it was that drew you to him at first, he was handsome, obviously, and incredibly dangerous, maybe that danger is what made him so tempting to you, he was forbidden and a part of you liked that.
The first time you met Joel in person was a few weeks after you had first started to hear rumors of him around the compound. He was sitting at the kitchen table, drinking a cup of coffee as you stood in the doorway, a bit shocked by the unknown visitor. He was…terrifyingly handsome, sharp jaw, scruffy beard, deep pools of brown eyes that you could get lost in. His salt and pepper hair that was perfectly messy matched his casual dress, jeans, work boots, plaid shirt. You stared at him for a moment, chewing at your lip before finally saying something. As his eyes settled on you, still in your pajamas and messy hair.
“G-goodmorning, I’m (Y/N).” You struggled to steady your voice, failing miserably. 
“Joel.” He partially turned to face you, raising his hand up to wave as he gave you a polite nod before going back to his coffee. You guessed he wasn’t really much of a conversationalist and tried to shrug it off before making your own coffee and retreating back to your room.
It went on like that for a few weeks, you watching him patrol the compound through your bedroom window, running into him when you both made coffee in the mornings, passing glances in the hallway
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“You can’t walk around like that!” You sighed, setting your coffee on the counter behind you as you walked over to Joel and ghosted your small hands over Joel’s plaid shirt, it was a dark green and blue and was rather well worn with tears and it had been missing the middle button for years.
“I will be fine, darlin.” Joel snorted, rolling his eyes at you as he shook his head. “I don’t have any big dances comin’ up so I doubt anyone’ll notice.” Joel took a bite from the toast in his hand as he looked down at you, admiring your curves and glowing skin. 
Damn, he really needed to get himself under control.
“It most certainly is not fine.” You put your hands on your hips, scowling at him. “Take it off, I am fixing it for you.” You held a hand out expectantly.
Joel couldn’t help but do as you asked so after he chuckled and teased you just a bit longer he was unbuttoning the remaining buttons on his shirt before tugging it off and handing it to you as he tried desperately to ignore the way your delicate hands felt against his as they brushed for just a moment.
You went back to your room holding the shirt to your chest with bright red cheeks, the fresh pine scent just enveloped you as you held it close to your face to breathe in his scent. 
Ugh, you totally were not getting creepy with this annoying crush at all.
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It was the next morning and Joel was leaving his room in the compound when he felt his work boots knock over something and when he glanced down he saw a small shiny gift bag laying on its side.. He couldn’t help but grin and chuckle as he picked it up and pulled out his shirt, running his rough hands over your handiwork, not a hole or tear in sight and the missing button had been replaced with a shiny red one. It had never looked better. Something in him started to tear away then, such a small act of kindness. It just really got to him as he felt you start to warm the parts of him he had thought were cold and barren. 
When Joel stopped showing up for coffee you were more than disappointed as it had become something you secretly looked forward to everyday. The lack of seeing Joel seemed to only make your mind run in a circle of anxiety and embarrassment. He had taken up so much of your mind it was starting to drive you mad.
The next day you saw Joel it was probably the hottest day of the entire summer and you had taken refuge in the pool, a thin pink bikini covering your body, not leaving much to the imagination. It was damn hot and you honestly didn’t care, floating in the pool as you tried to ignore the blazing heat. You had been in the pool for a while, skin getting a bit pruny and eyes closed as you enjoyed the cool water.
“Hey! Care for some company?” A familiar voice made your eyes open quickly and in front of you on the edge of the pool was a curly brunette with wide shoulders and a toothy grin. Caleb, was one of the younger guards your father had hired recently and he was rather handsome, cocky and annoying, but still handsome and (most of the time) enjoyable.
“You do know if my daddy finds out your slacking off again there will be hell to pay?” You couldn’t help but giggle and tilt your head to the side. Caleb shrugged and sat his rifle down, untucking his shirt from his pants and starting to lift it over his torso. It was hard not to let your eyes wander at his tan toned body, and muscular arms. 
“He won’t be home for a while so-” Caleb’s cocky words folded into a yelp as he was dragged from the edge of the pool by the back of his neck.
“The fuck are you doing, boy? Get the hell back to work.” Joel spat, his thick Texas accent was so prominent now. Your eyes were so focused on Joel that you didn’t even notice Caleb grabbing his things and looking pale as a ghost while he ran off.
To be frank, Joel looked furious, his thick muscular arms bulged from his tight shirt as he stood at the edge of the pool, his sharp jaw tight as his arms were crossed over his chest. His dreamy brown eyes were now dark and stormy as he kept them locked on you.
It made you feel a bit meek and yet, you were also a bit pissed yourself.
“What is your problem?” You felt your cheeks getting hot as you started to get out of the pool, still dripping wet and hair reeking of chlorine as you stood in front of the scowling man. 
You hadn’t realized until now just how…huge that he was. His shoulders were broad, arms thick and rippled with muscles.His scent was thick and alluring, and being this close to him made your anger dwindle. 
“You shouldn’t be out here like this, kid.” Joel sighed, his eyes looking you up and down, his fists clenching and unclenching as his nostrils flared. 
“I am not a kid, and I really don’t need you to lecture me, old man.” You couldn’t help but jab at him, going to turn away before his rough hand gripped your arm tightly, his brown eyes staring intensely into yours.
There was a moment you were both frozen like that, his hand gripping your wrist. Joel honestly couldn’t help but rub his thumb over your wrist, gently drawing slow circles along your flesh. The water from the pool still dripped down your body and onto the pavement below, the sun beating down over your smooth skin. For a moment you swore you saw that cold demeanor melt away, for just a single moment before it was back and he was scowling again. Joel immediately let you go, turning away almost suddenly as he walked off. 
You hated to admit it but your heart lurched at the loss of contact and you stared at his broad shoulders as he walked away, wide eyed and cheeks a bright pink. It was hard to breath, hard to move as your heart beat echoed in your ribs and traveled through your whole body. You hated to admit how he was making you feel, it was confusing and sent waves of heat through your body as well as frustration.
Seriously, what was his deal?
He was really starting to take up a lot of your thoughts and the two of you had barely spoken aside from that day. It was starting to drive you nuts, you found yourself looking forward to running into him more and more as time went on. 
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It would be two weeks before you saw Joel again as he was sent out on a job away from the compound (You knew better than to ask too many questions about specifics.) though you really couldn’t help but feel he was purposely trying to avoid you.
The evening sun poured into the kitchen as you sat at the counter, legs crossed as you flipped through the pages of your book. In all honesty you were desperately trying to distract yourself from thinking about Joel and his damn hands. The way he looked at you was unlike anything you had experienced before, it was intense and a little terrifying. 
You thought about those rough hands touching more than just your wrist, you thought of them dancing across your flesh expertly, back arching and breath ragged as his stubble ran across your chest and navel and lower until he was between your thighs, eyes hungry as his hands gripped your hips.
 Your thoughts were starting to consume you and you couldn’t help but audibly groan and let your head fall against the counter. 
“Uhhh..You okay there?” Joel’s voice cut through the room like a knife, his deep voice sent goosebumps over my neck and back. 
You were going to die of embarrassment, after all this time and he just shows up at the worst possible moment. 
You reluctantly sit up and turn towards him, cheeks a bit pink. 
“I'm fine- Woah.” When you faced him you felt yourself tense up. He had deep bruises on his jaw and his lip was busted open. “What happened to you?”
You didn’t really think about it, you grabbed a clean rag and walked over to him, tugging on his arm to make him sit in a chair so you can clean him up. 
“Its’ fine-I can handle myself.” Joel holds his hand up to stop you, your eyes locking for a moment. He can’t help it, your pleading eyes and trembling bottom lip made him fold almost immediately and his hand fell so you could move between his legs, gently pressing the rag to Joel’s bleeding lip. 
“It’s not ‘fine’.” You rolled your eyes, suddenly feeling embarrassed by your closeness but you focused on his lip, soaking the blood up and feeling a bit dazed at how damn handsome he was, how his thick pine scent mixed with the sweat on his brow and how that all made your heart leap in your chest.
“I’m gonna get the first aid kit- I’ll be right back.” You whispered, taking a step back as your nerves started to fully set in, this was too much, he was too tempting. If you were too close to him you were going to majorly embarrass yourself. You just wanted him so badly it was starting to fester in the pit of your stomach.
Once you returned you finished cleaning his wounds and dressing them, his breath spreading over your chest and neck as your delicate hands patched him up. You were really just too close for comfort. 
Joel was dying inside, clenching and unclenching his fists as he struggled to resist the urge to run his hands over your hips and to just fucking ruin you. He had certainly been avoiding you like the damn plague, you were gorgeous and going anywhere near you was sure to be nothing but trouble for the older man and yet…something about you kept him coming back to you, despite the dangers, despite the taboo. He just wanted you in every way. 
“All done. Now you won’t bleed all over the place.” You teased, feeling a deep sense of relief as you finally and yet still reluctantly backed away from Joel, cheeks heating up as his eyes met with yours again. 
“Thanks, darlin. Maybe you can be my personal nurse, hm?” Joel stood, smirking as he took a few steps closer, his chest inches from your face as you stared into those endless eyes of his. Joel slowly reached his hand up and brushed your cheek with a look so soft and cool it made your head spin. “See you later.” He mumbled softly before he turned away quickly and was gone just like that. 
He almost didn’t control himself there, his mind and heart racing in tandem as he willed himself to walk away, willed himself not to think about your smooth plush hips or your gemstone eyes that glimmered as they looked up at him, full of innocence and sweetness. Something that Joel, deep deep down, wanted to corrupt. He just had to avoid you at all costs. He could do that, right?
After that it was almost a month before you ran into him, and it was less so running into him and more so your father being a control freak and only allowing you to leave the compound when accompanied by a trusted guard and unfortunately for the both of you this meant Joel was given the honor of being your babysitter.
“I am 23, Joel. I don’t need you to lecture me.” You rolled your eyes as Joel took a beer bottle from your hands. You were already significantly more drunk than you needed to be, not that you would ever admit that of course.
You leaned against the bar, rolling your eyes dramatically. You had worn your tight black dress that hugged all of your curves, shiny red lips popping as you glared at the tall man, hands on your hips.
“Your daddy seems to think otherwise.” Joel shot you a glare, taking the beer bottle from you and passing you a glass of water which immediately made you groan.
“Don’t you ever loosen up?” You huffed, face heating up as you glared up at him, the alcohol burning through your veins and making you a lot more vocal and in all honesty, bratty.
“You don’t need to be shit faced when I take you home.” Joel sighed, crossing his arms over his chest, he wasn’t going to budge on this. 
“Fine. I am going to dance. You can sit here and sulk.” You huffed, spinning around and walking out into the drunken and stumbling crowd but not far enough that Joel couldn’t see. A part of you wanted him to watch.
You turned back to see his eyes staring at you in an almost predatory way and for a moment it almost made you lose your nerve. He was almost burning a hole in that dress with the heat and intensity of which he watched you. You couldn’t help but smirk a bit at the way he gripped his glass, his jaw tight as you started to sway your hips, dancing to the music. While across the room Joel watched every step, every sway. The way your hands ran over your stomach and chest, eyes low and chest rising and falling. He looked like a starved man as he looked you over, gripping his glass so hard you were concerned it would shatter.
You were much too drunk, you would certainly make a fool of yourself and yet you didn’t stop. His eyes on you made you hungry and a little light-headed. His gaze was so damn intense you didn’t even notice the man standing behind you before he tapped you on the shoulder and you turned to see Caleb, a little dazed and very drunk as you looked at him, his hair a bit messy and his typical toothy grin.
“You’re beautiful in that dress.” He smirked, going to lean forward to touch your hips before his eyes went wide and he started to back away, hands up as he pushed a few people to get away. He looked like he just saw a ghost. 
You stood, head tilted to the side as he ran off, confusion written on your face before you turned around and felt your own heart sink. Joel was stalking towards you, fists clenched and a terrifying dark look in his eyes as he approached you, getting nose to nose with you.
“I’m tired of this.” His voice was dark and gravely, it sent a shiver down your spine. 
In a swift motion Joel had lifted you by the waist, tossed you over his shoulder and started to walk out of the bar, his thick fingers holding your waist tight as he carried you out into the cool night.
“Joel! Put me down!” Your face was bright red in embarrassment, you struggled a bit but it was ultimately fruitless, Joel’s strength greatly outmatched your own.
After walking for a minute and ignoring your many, many threats Joel did eventually put you down. From the moment you saw him stalking towards you to right now you felt your blood boil in a fierce wave of anger. You ignored your trembling hands as you got nose to nose with him, tears stinging your eyes as you shoved your manicured index finger against Joel’s muscular chest.
“Seriously, what is your problem?!” You were seething as the words left your mouth, tears threatening to fall.
Joel just stared at you for a moment, the moonlight overhead was shimmering in the alleyway and illuminating your captivating eyes. Even now, as you furiously glared at him, eyes dark and angry, he was absolutely helpless to your beauty. He was fighting a losing battle with himself, he wanted to be a good man, he wanted to finish this job and get far away from you so he could stop himself from ruining not just his own life but yours as well.
“You.” He took a step forward, his eyes dark as he stalked towards you, his hands reaching out to pin you between him and the brick building.  “You are…my problem.” Joel was growling now, he was almost baring his teeth as he moved closer, his breath spreading over your neck as you stared wide eyed.
“W-what are you talking about?” Your voice was soft.
You couldn’t help but gasp when you felt Joel start to laugh, leaning his head against your neck, his beard rubbing against your skin as Joel took in your sweet vanilla scent as much as he could before pulling away. You could feel his body shake as he laughed before his deep brown eyes were staring into yours.
“Seeing you run around in that damn bikini, seeing you flirt with that douche. The coffees and those fucking eyes you keep giving me. It needs to stop. All of it.” Joel’s eyes were dark and serious, his jaw tight as he pressed his knuckles into the brick behind you. He was fighting everything inside of him. The fight between his morals and the way you were starting to make him feel. 
You were silent for a moment, looking at him with wide eyes that were glossy as tears threatened to spill down your rosy cheeks. Had you misread the entire situation?
“Why?” Your voice was soft as you looked at him, lip trembling a bit. You felt pretty pathetic.
“Aside from the fact that your daddy will kill me? You are just a young kid. It ain’t right.” Joel’s face softened a bit as he started to pull away, shaking his head as he struggled to keep his eyes on anything but you and your glimmering eyes. 
“You don’t…you don’t want me at all?” 
Those words sent electricity down Joel’s spine as you looked up at him, tear stained cheeks and trembling breath as you reached for him. He in fact did want you, he wanted you more than he had ever wanted anything or anyone.As much as Joel wanted to spare you, to allow you to stay pure and good but something in him was so damn loud and hungry for you, his internal voice was kicking the shit out of him for making you cry. He just didn’t want to hurt you.
He couldn’t take it anymore and in a quick movement Joel had you pressed against the wall again, his hands holding your hips as his mouth ghosted over yours, his breath heavy and hot against your neck as he whispered in your ear.
“I want you so damn much, darlin. So damn much…” 
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Part Two Coming Soon???
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punkshort · 5 months
Text
i'll be home for christmas | part two
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Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
Summary: Having just caught your fiancé cheating on you, you decide to come back home from the big city to Austin for the month of December to try to figure out your next step. You had no idea you would be getting more than you bargained for with the handsome single dad who built your parents' house.
Chapter Warnings: no outbreak, modern day but Joel is 40, language, fluff, very soft!joel, flirting, kissing, hallmark movie tropes up the wazoo, mentions of infidelity, mentions of divorce, reader's sister is pregnant, hurt/comfort, explicit smut (18+MDNI), (somewhat) unproteced piv sex, angst (but you know there will be a happy ending, this is Hallmark, after all)
WC: 12K
A/N: I am so overwhelmed at the response I received for part one. No contest, it's my most successful story to date, and I can't thank you all enough ❤️ I really hope you enjoy this part just as much. Please read the warnings, this has some (very sweet and soft) smut at the end, so if it isn't your thing, feel free to skip it.
Series Masterlist
Joel sat in his truck, the engine long cooled down by now, as he stared blankly at his garage door, waiting for the stupid grin to leave his face before he went inside to face his brother. But he had been sitting there for almost twenty minutes, and he was still smiling behind the back of his hand.
That date with you was perfect. Well, he could have done without getting knocked on his ass by some kid, but it worked out for him in the end, so he didn't mind.
Goddamn, did you make him feel good. There was no way he would be able to sleep that night, he was sure of it. Not after the way you looked at him, touched him, kissed him. A big part of him wondered for a long time if he would spend the rest of his life alone, believing that lightning doesn't strike twice, that he would never find anyone who would look at him and want him the way you did.
He ignored the nagging voice in the back of his head that reminded him you didn't live there, that you would be going back to New York in a couple short weeks. He couldn't let that bring him down just yet, that was a problem for another day. Right now, his only problem was resisting the urge to drive back to your house and scoop you up in his arms so he could make you feel as good as he felt.
It was close to midnight, so he caved and went inside, hoping his brother would be too groggy to interrogate him. When he walked in and saw Tommy and Sarah lounging on the couch, wide awake and watching some action flick, his face fell.
"Hey, it is way past your bedtime, the hell are you doin'?" Joel scolded, sliding off his boots.
"Dad, c'mon, it's the weekend," Sarah whined.
"Don't care, you know the rules," he told her, trying to sound firm, but he had such a soft spot for her that he never succeeded in sounding threatening.
"But it's a special occasion, I wanted to hear how your date went," she grinned, sitting up and wiggling her eyebrows. Joel's jaw dropped and shot a glare at his brother while stretching his arms out at his side in disbelief.
"Oh, come on, she practically dragged it outta me," Tommy smirked.
"Unbelievable," Joel muttered, collapsing on the end of the couch and rubbing his eyes.
"So?" Sarah pushed, tucking her legs underneath her excitedly.
"I ain't talkin' about this with you," he said, biting his cheek as he stared at the TV.
"Why not?" she pouted, but Joel just shook his head.
"Go brush your teeth," he said.
"Fine," she replied, rolling her eyes as she made her way to the stairs. "But I'll get it out of you one day."
She stomped upstairs and it wasn't until Joel heard the water running that he turned to his brother.
"What the hell, Tommy? You know I didn't want her knowin' about that," he said, exasperated.
"Oh, relax," Tommy said, stretching his arms above his head. "She's sixteen, Joel. She's smart. She figured it out herself, I just confirmed it after gettin' the third degree."
Joel sighed and tipped his head back onto the sofa, closing his eyes.
"Christ," he muttered.
"What's the big deal?"
Joel sat up and opened his eyes.
"Big deal is, she lives in New York. There's no future there, we were just hangin' out, and I don't need Sarah gettin' her hopes up," Joel explained, trying to downplay his feelings, but his chest squeezed at the thought of you leaving one day.
"Ever hear of long distance?" Tommy asked, raising an eyebrow.
"That never works," Joel replied, shaking his head.
"Well, maybe you should make it work," he said, sitting up and muting the TV. "You know, Sarah just wants you to be happy, Joel. We both do," Tommy said somberly. "Told me tonight she's worried about you bein' all alone when she goes off to college."
"I'll be alright," he said gruffly, although the same thought was plaguing his mind recently, as well.
Tommy stared at his brother a moment as Joel watched the TV, pretending to follow the story even though there was no audio. He decided to drop it for now and changed the subject.
"So, you gonna tell me how it went or what?"
Joel bit his lower lip, trying to keep himself from smiling, but he failed. Tommy noticed right away and grinned, leaning forward to tap his knee.
"I know that look," he said, still grinning.
"Yeah, alright," Joel finally said with a smile. "It was great. Really fuckin' great."
"Hell yeah!" Tommy yelled, and Joel immediately shushed him, pointing upstairs.
"She's funny and she's sweet, we had a real nice time," Joel said, his grin permanently etched on his face now.
"I figured it went well since you got home so late," Tommy replied with a wink.
"I ain't gonna sleep with her on the first date," he whispered, just in case Sarah was listening. He settled back into the couch as Tommy turned the TV volume back on, letting the movie play for a minute before adding, "She's a good kisser, though."
"Oh, I can't wait to meet this girl," Tommy chuckled with a shake of his head. "Haven't seen you smile this much in years."
"Yeah, well," Joel replied noncommittally, still smiling like an idiot and staring at the TV. He decided to stay downstairs that night, finishing the movie and then starting another one on the couch long after Tommy left, unable to quiet down his mind long enough to fall asleep until nearly three in the morning.
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You woke up the next day, stretching your arms above your head with a big yawn, not ready to get out of bed yet but the voices downstairs told you it must have been late. With a groan, you reached over and snatched your phone off the charger. When you saw you had a text waiting for you, your heart skipped a beat until you read Sydney's name and not Joel's. Your eyes flicked to the top of the screen, noting it was close to ten in the morning, before sliding open the text.
Sydney: sorry forgot to reply yesterday. I saw will at black & blue, he was hammered and falling all over the place
You scowled, not interested in whatever your ex was up to, so you replied with just the thumbs up emoji and set your phone back down.
Staring at the ceiling, you dreamily thought about your date with Joel. God, he really took you by surprise. You were proud of yourself for taking that first big step forward and putting yourself out there again, but you had no idea it would feel like this. You weren't even sure you ever felt like this with Will. Even when things were good, Will never treated you the way Joel did last night. He was so earnest and respectful, opening doors for you and actually listening to you talk about work. And he didn't even try to feel you up, either, although you probably wouldn't have minded. Maybe it was those Southern manners you were missing this whole time.
With a groan, you dropped your phone back on the nightstand and swung your legs over the edge of your bed, wrapping yourself in your robe, still not expecting it to be so cold in Texas. Even though it was December, it was unusual.
You made your way into the kitchen and made a beeline for the coffee, tossing a wave in the direction of your parents sitting with your sister and brother in law in the living room.
"She lives!" Cassie exclaimed with a smug look on her face. You held your mug up to your lips and blew on the liquid, frowning when the whole family was looking at you with matching, goofy smirks.
"Why are you all looking at me like that?"
"Like what?" your mom asked innocently. You squinted at her as you sat down, not buying it.
"How was your date?" your sister asked. You took a sip of coffee before replying.
"Good," you said simply, nodding your head. Your mom and dad exchanged a look and you frowned again, getting annoyed.
"What?" you asked loudly.
"Nothing!" your dad said, looking back down at his newspaper. Who even still gets the newspaper delivered anymore, anyway?
"Josh, what's going on?" you asked your sister's husband, knowing he was the weakest link. He glanced nervously between you and Cassie.
"They saw you and Joel on the Ring camera," he blurted out, and your family all groaned in unison. Your face flushed beet red, gawking at them all in disbelief.
"Are you kidding me?" you screeched.
"We didn't mean to, Bucky. Dad was reviewing the footage because he couldn't find the newspaper this morning and, well..." your mom trailed off, trying to hide her smile.
"Oh my god," you whined, tucking your legs to your chest and hiding your face.
"Looked like the date was a little more than good," Cassie teased, and you smacked her on the leg.
"I can't believe this," you mumbled to yourself, hiding your face behind your coffee mug and praying someone would change the subject. "How much did you see?"
"Just from when he pulled in the driveway til when you went inside," your mom said with a shrug.
"That's, like, everything, Mom! Oh my god!" Your face was hot with embarrassment now.
"He looks like a good kisser, is he a good kisser?" Cassie asked.
"Shut up!" you whined, covering your face with your free hand.
"There's nothin' to be embarrassed about, he was a gentleman. Held the door open for you and everythin'," your dad murmured, and you groaned.
"Can we talk about literally anything else, please?" you begged.
"Of course!" your mom said, her eyes flicking around the room, waiting for someone to say something, but nobody spoke.
"I'm sorry, Buck, but you gotta see the the smile on his face after you went inside, it was so cute," Cassie said, pulling out her phone.
"I'm going upstairs!" you announced, jumping up from the couch.
"Wait! Are you still coming by later to help paint the nursery?"
"I don't know, are there any cameras there?" you shouted over your shoulder as your climbed the stairs with your coffee to hide in the sanctity of the guest bedroom.
"Well, no. Only because I haven't set the baby monitor up yet," Cassie called back and giggled when she heard you slam your door.
Grumbling to yourself, you flopped back into bed and picked up your phone, looking for a distraction from your embarrassment. You quickly found one when you saw you had a missed text from Joel.
Joel Miller: Question for you - when is the earliest you should text someone without looking too pathetic after you've had the best date of your life?
You grinned as you typed out a response.
You: answer - whatever time you sent this text :)
Joel Miller: Oh, good. Thought I scared you off, sent that about ten minutes ago.
You: sorry, I was downstairs talking to my family, forgot to bring my phone. And I don't think you could ever scare me off
You almost told him about the doorbell camera fiasco, but decided against it. Picking up your mug, you tried not to stare too hard at your phone as you waited for a reply.
Joel Miller: What are you doing later?
Your heart skipped a beat at the thought of seeing him again so soon, then quickly stopped yourself, remembering your promise to your sister.
You: I told my sister I would help paint the nursery...
Joel Miller: That's a shame. I was hoping you could teach me something again.
You: oh? lol
Joel Miller: I just realized how that sounded - I meant wrapping Christmas presents for Sarah. I'm awful at it and I have another hunch gift wrapping is a secret talent of yours.
You giggled and rolled over in bed, your embarrassment long forgotten now.
You: you might be right... how about tomorrow?
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Joel took the porch steps two at a time, eager to see you again and it hadn't even been a full two days. His finger barely pressed the doorbell when he heard your voice call out I got it! and the door swung open. You smiled up at him, your eyes lighting up before dropping your gaze to his mouth.
"Hi," you said breathlessly.
"Hey," he replied, swallowing roughly.
"Have a nice time, Bucky!" your mom's voice rang out somewhere behind you as you shut the door quickly. Joel grinned, his gaze drifting from your eyes to your mouth before leaning in. You put your hand on his chest and tilted your head back before grabbing his hand and leading him to his truck. Confused, he followed behind and tried not to stare too long at the way your jeans perfectly hugged your ass.
You led him to the passenger side of the truck, but when he reached out to open the door, you snaked your hand up to wrap around the back of his neck, pulling his face down for a searing kiss only when you were sure you were hidden from view.
"Would I sound crazy if I said I missed you?" you whispered.
"No," Joel replied, shaking his head and trying to calm his pounding heart. "Couldn't stop thinkin' 'bout you."
"Me, too," you admitted softly, gazing up at him with your beautiful eyes all wide and burning with desire.
He cradled your face in his calloused hand, the other flattened firmly against the truck door behind you as he stared into your eyes, fighting the urge to pick you up and wrap your legs around his waist so he could pin you against his truck and let you feel just how badly he missed you.
Then, you heard your dad's SUV unlock and your eyes widened in panic.
"Shit," you muttered. "We should go. I think they're heading out."
"Alright, maybe I should say 'hi' real quick," he said, pushing himself off the truck and letting his hand drop from your face.
"No! That's okay, we'll be stuck here forever if you do," you said hurriedly. He gave you a curious smile but agreed before opening the door for you and hopping into the driver's seat.
He waited until he backed out of the driveway and was heading down your street before shooting you a sideways glance.
"Everythin' okay?"
You sighed and rubbed your palms over your face before clearing your throat.
"So, remember the other night on the porch, after you dropped me off?"
He smirked and nodded.
"Yeah, I think I remember," he teased.
"Well," you began. "My family saw us on the doorbell camera the next morning," you cringed.
He laughed, throwing his head back just a bit so he could still keep an eye on the road, and shook his head.
"Oh, I hate those fuckin' things," he said, but he was still laughing.
You grinned, your nerves and unease dissipating quickly.
"You're not embarrassed?"
"Nah," he said with a shrug, then turned his head briefly to look at you. "I'm sure we put on a good show."
You giggled, your cheeks tinting pink, and turned your head to look out the window.
"Alright," he said after a minute. "I've waited long enough and I gotta ask."
You swiveled back towards him, waiting for him to continue.
"What's the story with the nickname?"
You groaned and squeezed your eyes shut.
"It's so unbelievably stupid," you said, but he shook his head.
"Well, now you gotta tell me."
"Fine," you said, rolling your eyes, but your playful smile gave you away.
"It's Buck, or Bucky. Short for Bucket," you began.
"Bucket?" he repeated, bewildered.
"I warned you it was stupid!" you protested, and he chuckled. "Anyway, when I was little, my sister and her friends had a sleepover one time, and I overheard them swearing."
"Okay," Joel said slowly, nodding along while he kept his eyes pinned to the road.
"I always looked up to my sister, I was like her shadow when I was younger. So, when I heard them swearing, I wanted to be like them, too, you know?"
"Yeah, I follow," he replied, still not sure how the story related to your nickname.
"Well, thing is, I misheard them. They were saying 'fuck it', but I heard 'bucket'," you explained. "So I went to school and, thinking I sounded cool, I would say 'bucket' to all my friends. We were little, they had no idea what I was talking about, so I explained to them it's a swear word. Before I knew it, I had the whole class saying 'bucket' any time someone dropped something, or got a bad grade on a test, or whatever."
Joel howled with laughter, gripping the steering wheel for dear life as he tried to make it safely into his driveway.
"The principal called my parents and told them what was happening," you continued, joining in and giggling. "They got me home, and-" you doubled over, clutching your stomach as Joel put the truck in park and slumped over the steering wheel, his body shaking as he laughed.
"And I had to tell them the whole story, about why I kept saying it and-" you wiped the tears from your eyes as you took a deep breath. "And - oh my god - my sister got grounded for two weeks-" Another fit of laughter washed over Joel, tears streaming down his face.
"Wait, wait," he gasped, unbuckling his seatbelt so he could turn to face you. "You got in trouble in school, and your sister ended up gettin' punished?"
"Yes!" you squeaked, still giggling.
"Oh, shit," he breathed, panting as he leaned the back of his head against the seat rest. "Can't believe you thought that was stupid. That's gotta be the funniest thing I heard in a long while."
"Well, I'm glad I could brighten your day," you said, still grinning.
He rolled his head back towards you, his soft gaze drifting up and down your frame quickly before stopping on your eyes.
"You really do, y'know," he said quietly, and you furrowed your brow, tilting your head in confusion.
"Brighten my day," he clarified.
You bit your lower lip and smiled, looking away as the flush began to return to your cheeks.
"Come on, charmer. Why don't we go teach you how to wrap presents?"
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You never really gave much thought as to what Joel's house would look like, but once you saw it, it immediately felt like him. It was a smaller, two bedroom house. When you first walked in, you entered a living room with a leather couch and an oversized recliner. A big screen TV was front and center across from the couch, with a few framed pictures of Joel and Sarah mounted on the wall next to it.
"You want somethin' to drink?" Joel asked, making sure to slide the coat from your shoulders before shrugging off his own.
"Maybe just water," you said, following him into the kitchen. You gasped when you saw his cupboards and immediately rushed over to them while he pulled two bottles of water from the stainless steel fridge.
"Oh my god, Joel," you whispered, running your fingers gently over the designs. Each one looked different but somehow they all were cohesive. Some had small flowers or butterflies carved into the corners, while others had simple, yet intricate designs grooved into the wood.
"Had to practice somehow," he said, feeling his cheeks flush as he walked over to hand you your water.
"God, it's so beautiful," you said breathlessly, unable to look away from the dark, stained wood. Your fingers danced over some stars etched into one of doors, your eyes wide with awe, but he was focused entirely on you. He couldn't get enough of watching the delicate features on your face light up whenever you found something new that pleased you.
"How long does this take for you to do?" you asked, finally dragging your eyes away to look up at him. Your throat tightened when you noticed the heat behind his stare, your pulse fluttering in your neck.
"Depends," he murmured. "Some are faster than others, but I prefer to go slow and take my time. Anythin' worthwhile takes time. Gotta show it respect, gotta care for it."
His low and sultry tone made your face flush, forgetting for a moment you were talking about woodworking.
"Y-yeah," you stammered, clearing your throat. Suddenly, you were feeling short of breath. "That makes sense."
He gazed down at you for another moment, his eyes slowly raking over your face as if committing it to memory before speaking again. Your entire body felt hot, and you cursed yourself for wearing such a thick sweater.
"Ready to go upstairs?" he murmured, still staring at you in a way that made your spine tingle.
"Huh?" you whispered, completely entranced by his deep, brown eyes.
"The presents?" he reminded you with a small smirk.
"Oh, right," you said, finally blinking and looking away. You shakily opened your water bottle after he turned around to lead you to the stairs, your mouth suddenly extremely dry.
As you walked up the steps, you tried to get a look at the pictures that lined the wall, but it was difficult to do without tripping. You thought you had finally gotten your head on straight after that moment in the kitchen, but when you realized he was leading you to his bedroom, you felt the tremble return to your hands.
"Sorry, had to hide everythin' in my closet, she's too nosy," he said over his shoulder.
"No problem," you squeaked, trying not to stare at his neatly made bed. Your eyes briefly drifted over the end tables filled with personal effects. You thought you saw a chapstick, a cord for a phone charger, and a worn paperback book, but you didn't want him to catch you, so you looked away quickly.
He opened his closet and you were surprised to find his clothes packed away so neatly. For a bachelor, he kept a really clean house. He pulled out the bags of gifts from the shelf above his clothes, then the wrapping paper, which was leaning against the corner.
"D'you think we got enough room?" he asked, glancing around at the floor.
"Yeah, of course," you said, sitting down crossed legged on the carpet. You reached out for the wrapping paper and rolled it out in front of you as he sat down at your side, taking out her gifts one by one. You felt yourself involuntarily clench as you watched his large hands deftly lay out each item on the floor, his muscles twitching slightly under the tanned skin of his exposed forearms.
"I know what you're thinkin'," he said, and your eyes widened in surprise. "I spoil her, I know, but she's such a good kid, I can't help myself."
That was definitely not what you were thinking, but you chose to keep that to yourself.
"I think it's sweet," you told him. "You seem like a really good dad."
Now it was his turn to blush. He tried to turn his head away so you wouldn't see, murmuring his thanks as you each picked an item to start. After a quick tutorial, which included way too much tape and ripped paper, Joel finally seemed to get the technique down. It only took until about halfway through the pile for you to muster up the courage to bring up a topic you couldn't help but be curious about.
"So," you began, hoping you came off nonchalant. "Is Sarah with her mom this Christmas, or..."
Joel's fingers fumbled for a moment with the wrapping paper, but he quickly recovered.
"Uh, no," he replied, keeping his eyes cast down on the shoe box in front of him. "She's not in Sarah's life anymore."
"Oh," you said, unable to keep the surprise from your voice, but you didn't push him any further. Your mind was scrambling, trying to think of something else to talk about, when he sighed and leaned back, abandoning the gift.
"I'm sorry, this is all so new to me, I probably should've told you about her sooner," he said, feeling guilty, but you quickly shook your head.
"No, you don't have to-"
"I want to," he said, cutting you off. You clamped your mouth shut and turned your body so you could give him your full attention, leaving the hair dryer you were wrapping on the floor next to you.
He drew a shaky breath in and looked up at the ceiling before speaking.
"There's not much to say, really. I'm still not always sure what happened," he began. You nodded, staying quiet and letting him take his time. "We were together since high school, ended up stayin' together after graduation. Sarah was a surprise, we were both still so young but we made it work. It was hard, but once me and Tommy got the business goin', it made things a bit easier."
Your fingers tangled together in your lap as you listened, refusing to say anything until he was done. His gaze drifted towards a fixed point on the wall as he continued.
"From what I gathered, she felt like havin' Sarah so young robbed her from doin' certain things in life," he said heavily. "Said she couldn't do it anymore. Didn't want her life to pass her by and be full of regret."
You bit your lip. The pain was clear as day on his face and it was making your chest ache.
"Well, anyway. I thought maybe she would go off for a couple months, do whatever it was she thought she was missin' out on. Parties, college... other men," he added the last part quietly, and you dropped your gaze to the floor. "Get it out of her system, y'know? But she just... never came back. Eventually, the calls came less and less, and I put two and two together. Didn't even get a courtesy call before I got served with the papers."
He rubbed his eyes, trying so hard not to look like a blubbering idiot in front of you. You reached your hand out and placed it gently on his knee, giving him a reassuring squeeze. He dropped his hand from his face to cover yours, staring at your coupled hands for a moment.
"Joel-"
"It was just so fuckin' hard on Sarah, y'know?" he said, his voice cracking. "I had no idea what to tell her. She cried almost every night, askin' me why her mom didn't love her anymore."
"Oh, Joel," you whispered, unable to hold back any longer. You closed the small gap between you, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pulling him into your chest, your fingers gently raking through his hair. "I'm so sorry," you told him, burying your nose in the hair on top of his head, breathing in the citrus scent from his shampoo.
He didn't say a word. He just tugged you closer and closed his eyes, leaning into your comforting touch with a deep sigh.
"I'm sorry," he finally managed to croak out. "I'm throwin' way too much at you, I know you didn't sign up for this."
"Shh," you whispered into his hair, then tilted his face up to look at you, his dark brown eyes glassy with unshed tears. "It's okay," you murmured, pressing a soft kiss against his lips. A solitary tear slipped down his cheek when he pulled back to look deep into your eyes.
"It's okay," you repeated, wiping away the tear with the pad of your thumb before placing another gentle kiss against his lips.
He hummed contently against your mouth, sliding his hand up to the back of your neck and pressing his lips more firmly against your own, scared to let you go because if he did, he was sure he would fall apart.
Your grip on his hair tightened as he leaned forward, one strong arm wrapped around your midsection and the other pressed against your back. You mumbled something against his mouth when he tried to lay you down and knocked over a small pile of DVDs.
"Fuck," he whispered and, oh god, the way he said it made your legs turn to jelly and your cheeks flare with heat.
Frustrated, he tightened his grip around you and lifted you up, refusing to break the kiss. A tiny, high pitched squeak slipped past your lips as you wrapped your legs around his hips, letting him carry you to his bed.
He laid you down carefully on top of his plush, navy striped comforter. You sighed into his mouth, your legs loosening around his waist and falling open while you dragged your hands out of his hair and down to his shoulders, wrapping your fingers around his biceps to keep him close. He hovered above you, balancing all his weight on his elbows while his fingers played with the ends of your impossibly soft hair.
He slipped his tongue easily past your lips with a low groan, the noise going straight to your core, making the ache between your legs almost painful while your tongue danced with his, the two already so familiar with each other.
You tipped your head back with a gasp, desperate for air, but he kept going, unable to stop himself. His lips brushed against your jaw before his teeth and prickly beard scraped against the sensitive skin behind your earlobe. You let out a needy whimper and arched your back at the sensation, pushing your breasts into his broad chest as goosebumps spread over your whole body.
"Oh god, Joel," you whined softly, squeezing your eyes shut.
"Yeah, baby?" he replied, his voice thick and muffled against your neck. Baby. Jesus, this man was unraveling you so fast, it was making your head spin.
"I-I know we said this was casual, but-" the words got trapped in your throat as you cut yourself off, unable to finish your thought.
"I know," he said, his voice strained. "Fuck, I know."
He lifted his head away from your neck as he stared down at you, patting your hair back and away from your face as he panted slightly for breath.
You looked up at him, eyes watering as you tried not to think about your time coming to an end in a couple short weeks. You could tell he was thinking the same but didn't want to say it, the pain behind his eyes was obvious.
He blinked a couple times, the clouds clearing as he forced himself to focus on the present. He had you here in his arms, in his bed, underneath him right now. And he was going to be damned if he didn't soak up every single second.
He leaned back down and locked his lips on yours again, this time moving slower, more gentle and tender. He wanted to treat you right. You deserved it, and he wasn't going to give you anything less than what you deserved while he still had you.
You loosened your grip on his arms and allowed your hands to drift to the buttons of his flannel, slowly and shakily undoing them. His heart began to slam against his chest when he realized what you were doing, his mind going fuzzy with desire.
He pulled his head back when you were about halfway down his shirt, looking down hazily at your fingers working open the buttons as he desperately tried to think straight.
"Dad?" Sarah called from downstairs, the front door slamming shut. "Are you here?"
"Shit," Joel mumbled, scrambling off of you as he clumsily tried to redo his buttons. You jumped off the bed, leaning over so you could see into the mirror above his dresser, raking your hands through your tangled hair and quickly fixing your sweater.
"Yeah!" Joel shouted back, glancing over at you to make sure you were decent. "Sorry," he whispered, but you just grinned. Then his eyes fell to the half wrapped presents on the floor.
"Wait! Don't come up-" he called out as he heard her skipping up the steps. Joel grabbed your arm and pulled you out of the room, closing the door behind you both just in time.
"What? Why?" Sarah asked, then froze when she saw you. She looked up at Joel, then back to you, and a slow smile spread across her face.
"Ohhh..." she said with her hands on her hips. "Now I see."
"N-no, it's not what it looks like, she was just helpin' me wrap some gifts," Joel stammered, jutting his thumb over his shoulder. You shifted your weight nervously as you looked back and forth between them.
"Then why are you missing a button on your shirt?"
You both glanced down at his flannel, and she was right. He missed fixing a button in all the chaos. Your face flushed beet red as you stared at the ground while Joel hurriedly fixed the button, cursing under his breath. When you dared to look back up at his daughter, she was smirking playfully at you. Joel cleared his throat.
"Sarah, this is-"
"Yeah, I know, I remember from the party. The pretty dress, right?" she asked, and you nodded.
"Yeah, that's right. Nice to see you again," you said awkwardly.
She nodded, still smirking and looking at you and Joel. You could tell she loved catching her dad in this uncomfortable situation.
"Oh, crap. I forgot. Uncle Tommy is waiting for you in the driveway, said he needed your help unloading some work stuff out from the back of his truck," Sarah said.
"Ah, dammit, alright. You okay for a couple minutes?" he asked you, eyebrows raised.
"Of course," you said. He nodded, walking down the hall past Sarah, muttering "be good" to her as he walked by.
You listened as Joel made his way down the stairs and out the front door, leaving you and Sarah in silence, still staring at one another.
"I'm sorry, we really were wrapping gifts," you assured her.
"It's okay," she said with a shrug. "Last year he used duct tape on my presents, I know he needs the help."
You giggled, causing her to laugh, as well.
"Do you play an instrument?" you asked, just noticing the case on the floor next to her feet.
"Yeah, violin. I had practice after school today," she said, picking it up.
"Oh, cool. I played piano growing up, but I was never any good," you said, sliding your hands in the back pockets of your jeans.
"I have my school's Christmas recital on Friday," she said. "My first solo."
"Oh my god!" you said, clapping your hands together, genuinely impressed. "That's incredible! You must be so excited!"
"Yeah, at first, but now I'm getting nervous," she said, glancing down at the case in her hand. "You wanna hear me play?"
"Duh. Absolutely," you said with a grin. Her eyes lit up and a huge smile spread across her face again.
"O-okay. This is my room right here," she said, turning to her right and opening the door. "Sorry it's messy, my dad's gonna kill me."
"It's totally fine," you said, walking in and sitting down at the edge of her bed. You glanced around the room as she set up her music stand. On the pink walls, she had posters up of her favorite bands with a calendar and string lights draped across the room.
"I really like your room," you said, squinting to look at the stickers and drawings she had on her headboard.
"Thanks," she said sheepishly. "My dad let me do whatever I wanted."
You were about to comment on the various trophies she had on her windowsill when Sarah spoke again.
"Just so you know, I don't mind that you're seeing my dad."
Your eyes shot up to hers in surprise, not sure what to say. You hadn't really had a chance to talk to Joel about your relationship and how that would affect his daughter.
"He's been in such a good mood this past week, and he won't tell me but I know it's because of you," she said, pinning you with a familiar brown gaze.
"Oh, that's so sweet, Sarah," you said, finally finding your voice. "Thank you. That means a lot."
"You're welcome," she said. "I just want him to be happy again."
You dropped your gaze to your lap, your chest tightening at the thought of Joel being so lonely all these years.
"Me, too," you whispered, still looking down. Sarah regarded you for a minute before slapping her palms against the tops of her thighs and leaned down to pick up her violin.
"You ready?" she asked. You looked up and nodded, giving her an encouraging smile and sat back to listen as she began playing a hauntingly beautiful version of 'Silent Night'.
Sarah got about halfway through the song when she hit the wrong note and abruptly stopped, dropping her chin to her chest in frustration.
"Hey, it's okay," Joel heard you say softly as he walked back up the stairs. He paused at the top, right outside Sarah's room to listen.
"It's okay to make mistakes. Just go slower, take your time. Anything worthwhile takes time," you told her, and he smiled when he heard his earlier words to you repeated back to his daughter. He took a step forward to lean against the doorframe and watch the two of you, your back to him as you sat on her bed.
"Okay," Sarah said, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes before lifting the violin to her chin and starting over.
Joel listened to Sarah play the same song he's heard a million times already in just the past month alone, but kept his eyes trained on you. The way you gave her your full, undivided attention and encouraged her with a smile or a thumbs up when she would glance over at you shyly made his chest ache.
When Sarah successfully finished the song with no mistakes, you jumped up from the bed, clapping and cheering for her, making Sarah giggle and hide behind her hands.
Fuck, this was going to be so hard.
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"Dad?" Sarah asked the next morning over her bowl of cereal.
"Yeah, baby girl?" he replied, frowning as he pulled his bread from the toaster. He sucked his fingertips into his mouth, trying to bring some relief to the quickly reddening skin.
"Can your friend come to my recital tomorrow?"
Joel froze, his fingers still pressed against his tongue as he slowly turned around to look at her. He dropped his hand and took a deep breath.
"I don't know if that's such a good idea," he replied.
"You don't think she would wanna go?" Sarah asked, her eyebrows pinched together.
"No, it's not that, I'm sure she would," he said, trying to find the right words.
"Then what's the problem?"
Joel sighed and picked his mug up from the counter, then walked over to join her at the table.
"She doesn't live here, baby. She's goin' back to New York in another week or so, I don't want you gettin' too attached," he finally admitted, watching Sarah closely as she considered his words.
"Well, you guys like each other, right?" she asked, and Joel smirked.
"Yeah, but it ain't that simple."
"Yes, it is, Dad," she said, rolling her eyes and dipping her spoon back into her bowl. "My friend Katy was dating this guy last year and he switched schools over the summer. They're still together, it doesn't matter," Sarah said with a shrug, taking a bite of cereal.
If the topic didn't fill Joel with a sense of dread, he would have chuckled at the comparison, but instead he just sat there quietly, watching his daughter as she finished her cereal and scrolled on her phone.
Sarah pulled on her backpack and was sliding on her sneakers to catch the bus when she called back to Joel over her shoulder.
"Just ask her, okay? Please, Dad?"
Joel sighed, hanging his head between his shoulders and paused his hands over the dishes in the sink.
"Alright," he relented, and he heard Sarah clap her hands behind him before slamming the front door shut.
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You: good morning :)
Joel Miller: Good Morning, sweetheart. I didn't think you would be up this early.
You: couldn't fall back asleep. What are you doing
Joel Miller: Just getting to work. Why couldn't you fall back asleep?
You thought about it for a minute from under the pile of blankets on your bed, rolling to your side before answering.
You: I was thinking about you...
Joel Miller: Good thoughts, I hope?
You: VERY ;)
His throat went dry when he opened the text. He glanced around outside his car window, making sure he was still the only one on the job site before replying.
Joel Miller: What are you trying to tell me, baby?
You smirked and bit down on your lip.
You: I was wishing you were in bed with me right now
"Shit," he muttered to himself, glancing around once again before adjusting his pants.
Joel Miller: Me too, what are you wearing?
The answer came back almost immediately.
You: nothing
He groaned and rubbed his palms roughly over his face.
Joel Miller: You're killing me, baby. I have to get working in a minute.
You: i'm sorry ;)
You: I promised my parents I would go to dinner with them tonight, but are you free tomorrow?
Joel took a deep breath, trying to clear the onslaught of inappropriate thoughts from his head when he remembered his promise to Sarah.
Joel Miller: It's Sarah's recital tomorrow night. She asked me to invite you this morning, did you want to go?
He nervously chewed his cheek for a moment before sending another text.
Joel Miller: No pressure, I can tell her you're busy.
He sent his second text right as your reply came through.
You: I would love to!
He grinned and raked his fingers through his hair. Tommy's knuckles tapped on the outside of Joel's window, making him jump. He held up a finger before sending you a quick answer.
Joel Miller: Sounds great. I'll pick you up. Try to go back to sleep. Dream of me.
Joel opened the door and slid his phone in his back pocket, a stupid grin etched across his face as he joined his brother in the half-built storefront they were working on.
"Oh man, you got it bad," Tommy said with a chuckle when he saw the look on Joel's face.
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"Alright, what do you think of this one?" you asked Cassie as you stepped out of the bathroom modeling the sixth dress of the day.
"I liked the red one better," she said, glancing up from her phone.
"Are you sure? This one is a little more chic," you said, twisting around to look at your backside in the mirror.
"It's a high school recital, Buck. I don't think anyone is expecting 'chic'," she teased, and you rolled your eyes.
"Well, I just want to look nice, is all," you said, sitting next to her on your bed in a huff. You tapped your phone screen, frowning when all you had was another text from Sydney and nothing from Joel. You opened it up anyway, curiosity getting the best of you.
Sydney: OMG!!!!!!
You sent back three question marks and locked your phone with a sigh.
"You still wanna get together next week so we can look at apartments online for you?" she asked.
"Yeah," you said sadly, looking out the window.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing," you told her. "Just not ready to go back yet."
"Could that be because of a certain sexy contractor?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at you.
"Shut up," you smirked, tossing a pillow at her lightly.
"Ooo you like him! Lookit how red you're getting!"
"I'm gonna kill you when that baby's out, you know that, right?" you giggled.
"Yeah, yeah, sure," Cassie said, looking back down at her phone as the smile slowly faded from her face. "You know you don't have to go back, right?"
"What do you mean? My job is there, my life is there... everything is there," you replied. "Of course I have to go back."
"What life, though?" she asked, and you frowned at her. "Seriously, Buck. Aside from your job, which you hate, what's left?"
"Well, my friends are there. And I don't hate my job that much. I mean, everyone hates their job a little bit," you said with a shrug.
"Is this what you expected to do when you were in college? Is this what you wanted?" Cassie pressed, sitting up on the bed. "Are you even happy?"
You paused, letting her words roll around in your head for a moment.
"Well, I mean..." you trailed off, not sure how to answer her question.
"If you have to think about it this long, I think you know the answer," your sister said quietly. You groaned and rolled off the bed.
"I'm going back. I have to. I can't just give up because some guy broke my heart," you said, turning around so she could unzip the back of your dress.
"I'm just saying, think about it," Cassie replied. "I wouldn't hate it if my child's aunt was in their life more than twice a year!" she called after you as you shut the door to the bathroom.
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Joel eagerly jogged up the porch steps and rang the doorbell, very aware of the camera this time while he fiddled with the cuffs on his dark red button down shirt. He heard high heels clicking on the other side of the door and the corners of his mouth turned up into a smile, which quickly vanished when you opened the door and he saw the dress you were wearing.
"Hi," you said with a shy smile, pulling a soft looking white cardigan on over your shoulders.
He thought he had greeted you. He could have sworn he said something, anything, that didn't make him look like a complete idiot, but apparently nothing came out because you scrunched your eyebrows together when you saw his face.
"Are you okay?" you asked, pulling the door shut behind you.
"Yeah, it's just - Jesus, you look so good," he managed to finally say, tilting his head back to stare up at the roof of the porch for a moment, taking a deep breath.
"Thank you," you said with a giggle. "You don't look half bad, yourself."
He rubbed his forehead, exasperated and flustered before pulling you quickly into his arms and latching his mouth onto yours with a groan.
"Joel," you pulled back breathlessly with a small smile and leaned your head to the side, trying to silently remind him of the doorbell. His eyes raked over you hungrily before shaking his head and pulling you back into a deep kiss.
Fuck the camera, let them see.
You giggled against his mouth, causing him to smile and break the kiss.
"Come on, I wanna get good seats," you said, rubbing your thumb over his lower lip to wipe off your lipstick that transferred. It caused his stomach to clench. That sweet, little intimate gesture made him ache for more so badly that he could hardly breathe.
He walked you around the front of his truck, opening the door and giving you a hand so you could hop onto the seat, the gorgeous red dress you were wearing hugging your curves just right and distracting him to no end.
On the walk around to the driver's side, he mentally scolded himself, reminding himself over and over that tonight was a big deal for his little girl and he needed to stay focused.
As he drove down the street, he realized that his hand instinctively found yours across the seat, his body craving the warmth and softness of your own. How on earth was he going to go back to the life he had before, now that he knows what it's like to bask in the heat of your touch?
Once he got to the school, he found a parking spot and jumped out of the truck. You had figured out by now that he preferred you to wait so he could open the car door for you, so you did. Swinging your legs over the side of the seat, you slid down into his waiting arms, your hands gently coming to rest on the tops of his shoulders. He gazed down at you with his arms loosely hanging around your waist. You saw his adam's apple bob in his throat while he let himself get lost in your warm, beautiful eyes. You lifted a finger from his shoulder, tracing an invisible line down the side of his cheek as you stared up at him with your plush lips parted so invitingly that it made his knees weak.
"Joel! Hey!" Tommy's voice called out from behind, snapping you both out of the moment. Joel sighed and untangled himself from you, taking your hand and leading you forward so he could shut the door before turning around to find his brother.
You could see the family resemblance immediately as Tommy approached you with a wide grin. His hair was a bit darker and a lot longer, and his beard was less full than Joel's, but he had the same soft, brown eyes that you had grown to know and love.
Love? Oh, no.
"Hey, Tommy," Joel said as he got closer, his hand pressed firmly on the small of your back. "This is-"
"Oh, I know who she is. How're you doin', darlin'?" Tommy asked, pulling you into a bear hug, taking you by surprise.
"I-I'm good," you squeaked shyly once he released you. "Nice to meet you."
"I've been dyin' to meet the little lady who's got my brother all wrapped up," he replied with a grin.
"Tommy!" Joel seethed warningly at your side, but you just giggled.
"I'm just messin' around. She knows that, right?" he said, shoving his hands in his coat pocket and rolling on the balls of his feet. "Supposed to snow next week, can you believe it?"
"Yeah, I heard we might get a couple feet," Joel said, steering you toward the doors to the auditorium. "Better get your shovel ready."
You settled in between the two brothers as you found a decent spot in the fourth row. Joel draped his arm around the back of your chair while he chatted with Tommy about work. You inadvertently leaned to the side and rested your shoulder against his chest as you glanced around the room, admiring the lit up garlands around the windows and Christmas trees on the stage with fake presents underneath.
When their conversation died down, Tommy pulled out his phone and began scrolling through social media, holding it low between his spread knees with his chin tucked into his chest.
Joel tilted his face forward to press his lips on the top of your head, breathing in a deep and contented breath. A small smile played across your lips as you turned your gaze up towards him, resting your cheek gently on his shoulder. He looked down at you with a smile and planted a chaste kiss on your forehead, and as each of you slid your eyes closed for a moment, Tommy angled his phone to snap a quick picture, smiling to himself and making a mental note to show his brother later.
The lights dimmed and you all straightened up in your seats. You listened to the music teacher make a small speech at the beginning and politely clapped afterwards. You saw Sarah twice throughout the concert as part of the orchestra, smiling at how focused and beautiful she looked in her white dress. As the concert wound down, Sarah finally came out on stage for her solo, and the three of you eagerly leaned forward. At the last minute, you remembered to pull out your phone and start a video, telling yourself you were doing it for Joel so that he could be in the moment, but you knew you would end up watching it by yourself when you went back to New York City.
The performance was flawless. When it was over, the three of you lept up from your seats, cheering, jumping and clapping, making her wave and blush as she exited the stage. You sat down, giggling, as the people surrounding you gave you all polite smiles and chuckles, then quieted down for the finale.
When the lights came back up, everyone stood from their seats, murmuring and laughing while waiting for their kids to come out from backstage and take pictures. You saw a flash of white out of the corner of your eye and moved out of the way just in time for Sarah to run and jump up into Joel's arms, burying her face in his neck. He squeezed his eyes shut, his arms wrapped around her tightly, murmuring praise in her ear. You felt warmth spread across your chest as you watched them have their moment, the corners of your mouth turned up into a smile with your hands clasped together against your chest.
He let her down gently and she turned to give Tommy a quick hug. He spun her around, making her giggle and fidget with her dress before she turned to you.
"You came!" she exclaimed, wrapping her arms loosely around your waist. Your eyes widened in surprise, not expecting such affection from her, but you quickly returned the hug.
"Of course I came! Thank you for inviting me," you said, pulling back with a grin. "You were absolutely perfect, I took a video, I'll send it to your dad so he can show you later."
"I did exactly what you told me, I slowed down and took my time," she beamed, and it gave you a new feeling deep in your chest that you never felt before.
"That's great, Sarah," you replied, your throat tight with emotion. Tommy dropped his gaze from you and ticked his jaw to the side, finally understanding why Joel was hesitant to let Sarah know about the two of you.
"Dad?" Sarah asked, turning away from you. "Can I sleep over at Katy's? She's having a bunch of girls over and her mom said it was okay."
"Uh, sure, baby girl. Don't you need clothes and stuff?"
"I have stuff I keep here in my locker for gym," she said.
"Well, alright, lemme talk to her mom first," he replied, glancing around the room.
"Thank you! She's right over here," she said, grabbing his hand. "Thanks for coming!" she called back last minute over her shoulder to you and Tommy, and you both smiled and waved as she dragged her father across the room.
"She's so talented," you said, turning to Tommy. He looked down at you and gave you a weak smile.
"Yeah, she's somethin' else," he said with a nod. "Hey, listen. I'm havin' a get together next week at my house. Little Christmas party, I guess. I invited a guy I met at your parents' house - Josh? He's comin' with his wife, Joel and Sarah'll be there, I'd love for you to come by if you can."
"Josh is my brother in law," you clarified for him. "That sounds great, I'll be there, thank you."
"You're welcome," Tommy said, then his brows pinched together as he opened his mouth again to speak. "Joel might kill me for sayin' this, but you gotta know how happy you've -"
"Ready to go?" Joel asked, sneaking up beside you. Tommy cleared his throat and gave his brother an innocent smile.
"Yep," you replied, dropping your hand to find his at your side, lacing your fingers together and giving him a gentle squeeze.
After saying goodbye to Tommy, Joel slowly led you through the parking lot to his truck, desperately trying to think of something else you could do, not ready to drop you off yet. He knew the time you had together was coming to an end, and he wanted to soak up every precious second. Especially after the way he saw you with Sarah: so warm and sweet and patient. He couldn't remember the last time he saw his daughter's eyes light up that way.
He prided himself on being a good father since his wife left. Always making sure to put Sarah first, that she got everything she could ever want or need. Especially his love. When his ex abandoned them, he made sure Sarah got every ounce of love he had, hoping it would help make up for the loss. But as hard as he tried, he could never fully fill both roles. There were just some things that a mother provided for her daughter that Joel couldn't give.
He didn't realize it until he saw you with Sarah earlier that night, and then it felt like everything shifted into focus for the first time in his life.
He held out his hand to help you get back into his truck, making sure your legs were safely tucked in before he gently shut the door.
Sitting in the driver's seat gripping the steering wheel, he stared straight ahead for a moment in complete silence, the keys still in his coat pocket while his mind reeled.
"Is everything okay?" you asked timidly. He blinked and turned to you.
"Yeah," he said hoarsely. He swallowed and looked at his watch.
"You wanna get coffee or somethin'? I know it's gettin' late but I'm sure some place's open," he said, deep in thought as he considered the cafés nearby.
"Don't you have coffee at your house?" you asked shyly. His eyes snapped up to yours and he saw the flush creeping up your neck and the rapid rise and fall of your chest.
Oh.
"Yeah, yes," he croaked, nervously clearing his throat. "Let's do that. I have- yeah, good idea," he stammered, fumbling with the keys in his pocket.
You smirked as you watched his shaky hand turn the key in the ignition. He twisted around to back out of the parking spot, and this time you gave into temptation, unbuckling your seatbelt so you could slide over and tuck yourself under his arm. He immediately pulled you closer, not even caring that you weren't wearing your seatbelt. He would make sure to drive safe. Nothing could possibly ruin that night. He wouldn't let it.
At stop lights, you would run your hand up his chest and plant small kisses against the corner of his mouth, filling him with a radiating bliss he never felt before.
Once you got back to his house, you shrugged off your sweater and trailed behind him as he made his way into the kitchen. You leaned against the wall and watched as he opened one of the cupboards - the one with the small birds carved into the bottom - and pulled down a can of coffee.
"I don't think I have any decaf," he said turning to look at you.
"I don't want coffee, Joel," you said lowly. He swallowed roughly and put the can on the counter.
"What d'you want, then?"
You pushed yourself off the wall and slowly walked towards him, his eyes skating up and down your body as you approached. Wrapping your arms around his waist, you tilted your face up to gaze at him, your mouth hovering over his own.
"I want you."
His eyes fluttered closed as your lips slotted against his, his rough hands immediately coming up to cup your smooth face, holding you firmly against his mouth. Christ, he would never get tired of kissing you. If he could do it every single day for the rest of his life, he would. He knew it seemed crazy. He knew you just met, but he couldn't help the way you made him feel.
"Let's go upstairs," you whispered, nipping at his lower lip.
He couldn't speak. He just nodded in a daze and let you lead him coyly up the steps, then turned around to walk backwards down the hall towards his bedroom so you could pull him tightly against your body. His big hands gripped your waist while his tongue slipped past your lips, searching for its mate.
You reached behind you blindly, your hand fighting with the doorknob as his big frame caged you in against the wood, his masculine scent invading your senses and making it difficult to think. Finally, the door swung open and you both stumbled in, a giggle erupting from your throat as your fingers got to work undoing the buttons on his dress shirt.
You hurriedly tugged his button down off, leaving it in a heap on the floor as you slid your palms underneath the white t-shirt he had on, feeling the warm skin of his stomach and chest for the first time.
"Off," you whispered, your heart getting stuck in your throat when he yanked the shirt over his head, leaving his upper body completely bare to you. Your mouth went dry as you drank him in, then lunged forward, your lips brushing up his sternum until you reached his collarbone. You sucked on a bit of tanned skin there with a moan, then slipped your tongue out to press wetly against the red mark you left, feeling drunk off the taste of his sweat.
He gently pushed you backwards so he could ease you down onto his bed, his breath growing erratic and desperate with each little bite you left on his chest. God, has anyone ever desired him this much before? Has he really been missing out on this his entire life?
"Baby, we're gonna have to stop soon if you don't want this to go any further," he murmured. He found himself in the familiar position of hovering above you while his hand slid down your leg and toyed with the hem of your dress.
"I don't think I can take much more, tell me to stop," he whispered when you didn't answer, running the tip of his nose softly against your cheek.
"I don't want you to stop," you gasped as his fingers slipped underneath your dress. You tilted your head back and moaned when you felt his fingertips brush against the damp fabric of your panties.
His mouth hungrily devoured the exposed cleavage of your breasts, growing frustrated with the fabric of your dress keeping him from seeing all of you.
"Sit up," he demanded, leaning back and pulling his hand from between your legs. You obeyed, and he made short work of your zipper, pulling it all the way down so you could shimmy out, leaving you in just your underwear.
"Oh, fuck," he whispered when he realized you weren't wearing a bra. You let yourself fall back gently on the bed, spreading your arms out above your head so he could see every inch of you in the moonlight.
He couldn't believe this was actually happening. He kept waiting for his alarm to go off and reality to slap him across the face, but it never came. His heart was pounding so fast, he was sure you could hear it as he leaned back down and nibbled at your exposed jaw while his calloused hand cupped your soft breast, his thumb flicking over your hardening nipple.
You scraped your nails over his shoulders and down his chest as you arched your back, pressing into his hand, needing to feel the heat of his skin against your own. Your stomach flipped as you made your way down to his belt, and with shaky fingers, pulled hastily at the leather.
Yanking the belt through the loops with one swift motion, you flung it across the room, making him chuckle against your skin. When you started to work on popping open the button on his dress pants, a devastating thought suddenly occurred to him.
"Shit, wait," he said, putting his hand on top of yours. You frowned up at him, your chest heaving, as you gave him a confused look.
"I don't have any protection," he said through gritted teeth. He hung his head and squeezed his eyes shut angrily. "I-I haven't been with anyone since my ex, and I never thought... fuck," he said, clenching his jaw.
You weighed your options for about half a second before tugging his chin up, forcing him to look at you.
"I'm still on birth control," you told him, searching his eyes. "I mean, only if you're comfortable with it, we don't have to," you said, but in your head you were chanting please, please, please.
"Are you sure?" he asked, panting for air. "I don't wanna make you feel like -"
"Yes," you said, cutting him off by grabbing his face. "Yes. I'm sure, Joel. Please," you whimpered, pulling him back down to you, his mouth crashing down on yours again.
"Please," you whispered again, tipping your head back as his lips left a trail of soft kisses down your throat. "Please, Joel, I need you."
His mouth stuttered against your neck. Hearing you beg and say you needed him when he never thought he would ever be needed like this in his whole life made his mind go blank.
"Okay," he rasped. "Okay, baby."
He tugged at the zipper on his black pants and pulled them off as quickly as he could without leaving you. You reached down to help him, hooking your fingers over the band of his boxers and shoving them down. He kicked them off before yanking down your panties, dropping them on the floor next to his clothes.
You eagerly spread your legs so he could settle his hips between them. You glanced down with a small gasp when you saw the size of him and you felt your cheeks flare. Jesus Christ.
He didn't seem to notice your reaction when he was too wrapped up in staring at the wet heat between your legs, pulsing and waiting, just for him. He slid a finger gently between your folds, making you moan and your back arch. Fuck, he loved how responsive you were to his touch.
He readjusted so he was kneeling between your legs. His palms slid up your calves, past your knees and to your inner thighs, pressing them down into the mattress so you were spread wide.
He lined himself up at your center, glancing up at you quickly to make sure you were ready. You swallowed and nodded, your eyes filled with desire, desire for him, something he still couldn't fathom but decided not to question. He pressed forward gently, notching himself against you before falling forward on his elbows.
He kissed the tip of your nose as he eased himself inside you, pausing when he heard you gasp and felt you tense under him.
"More," you finally croaked, your nails coming up to rake against his scalp. He let out the breath he was holding and pushed in further, his eyes fluttering shut and his mouth falling open as he felt you slowly stretch around him so perfectly, like you were made just for him.
"Oh, god," he sighed, dropping his face to the crook of your neck after he fully sheathed himself inside you. He dragged his mouth across your chest, leaving a wet trail from his tongue and red marks from his scratchy beard in his wake. He waited until he felt your muscles relax under him before he slowly rolled his hips, dragging himself in and out as his teeth scraped over your tightening nipples. You moaned his name softly, the sound permanently etched in his brain, a sound he will refuse to forget for the rest of his life.
He began to roll his hips faster at your encouragement, becoming obsessed with the way you felt and the sounds you made, and it was all for him. He spent so much of his life giving to everyone around him, he never truly felt like anyone was able or willing to give him what he needed in return until now. The recognition was depressing and freeing at the same time. Now that he finally had what he always wanted, what he always needed, he was going to lose you and there was nothing he could do about it.
Each moan from your throat and each kiss from your lips dragged him down deeper and deeper until he collided head first with the stunning, yet so painfully obvious, realization that he was deliriously in love with you. It was insane, he knew that. But it didn't make it any less true.
"Joel," you gasped, pulling him out of his trance and back to the present.
"Yeah, baby? I'm here. I'm right here," he whispered, planting soft kisses all over your face.
You bit down on your lower lip and squeezed your eyes shut. The sheer intensity behind his gaze coupled with the agony of only getting to experience this for one more short week made tears burn in the backs of your eyes.
You felt your orgasm begin to swell deep in your belly while your breath became more ragged and your vision went spotty. It shouldn't feel this good. This was cruel, to be able to experience something like this just to have it brutally ripped away from you. It wasn't fair, yet you never wanted it to stop.
He could feel it. It's been years, and it was never, ever like this, but he still knew. The way you whimpered and clawed at his back while your walls squeezed him so tightly, he thought he might pass out.
"Open your eyes," he panted. "I wanna look at you."
You forced your eyes open, now unable to hold back the tears that pooled there as two drops trickled down the side of your face, getting lost in your hair.
"It's okay, I got you," he whispered lovingly, staring deep into your eyes, seeing everything you didn't dare say out loud.
"You can let go, baby," he told you, his hips snapping against you ruthlessly, desperate to come at the same time.
You felt the wave rip through you like fire, the power and emotion behind it unlike anything you ever felt before. More tears poured from your eyes as you cried out his name, your thighs squeezing his hips so tightly you weren't sure you would be able to stand after.
He followed seconds later with a deep groan, spilling himself deep inside you while murmuring praise and wiping away your tears with his thumb.
"Why're you cryin', did I hurt you?" he asked, his voice filled with so much concern that it broke your heart. You shook your head, wiping the tears away with the back of your hand, but fresh ones just took their place.
"C'mon, talk to me," he urged, leaning up a bit as he softened inside you.
"What are we gonna do, Joel?" you blubbered pathetically. He took a shaky breath in and tenderly tucked your hair behind your ear.
"I don't know, baby, but we'll figure somethin' out. We gotta," he said with a sigh.
"I can't lose you," you whispered, pressing your forehead against his and closing your eyes.
"You'll never lose me, I can promise you that," he replied, pressing a gentle kiss against your swollen lips.
He waited until your tears slowed down before sliding out of you with a hiss. Rolling off to your side, he wrapped his arms around your middle and pulled you close against his chest, and as you finally drifted off in his embrace, he thought about all of the options available before you, determined to find a solution.
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tremendum · 1 year
Text
Mr. Miller’s House 
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pairing: joel miller x fem!reader (afab, use of she/her, use of the word girl)    
rating: explicit. (18+. mdni.)      
word count: 7.6k  requested: yes  summary: “Joel was a mean, mean man. and you eat it up like a woman starved for months.” warnings: mentions of food/eating, drinking alcohol, age gap (unspecified), Jackson era, Ellie gets a splinter, Joel is honestly rude to Ellie in this and reader is judgy about Joel’s parenting practices lol. but really,  this is just filthy smut (PiV, unprotected), dirty talk, sir kink, use of the word slut a LOT, one use of the word bitch, humiliation/degradation, hints of masochism, choking, exhibitionism, public smut, rough sex, dom!Joel, mean joel, lots of fighting/anger, cumplay, dirty talk, ass spanking, pussy spanking, mentions of blood (reader gets scraped knees), throat/facefucking, rough oral (m!receiving), overstimulation, dacryphilia, multiple orgasms. lmk if i missed any please lmfao
notes: okay jesus fucking christ!!! i wrote this so fasst lol but it was fun and highly requested. hope yall like it.  as always reblogs/asks/comments are always great motivations :’) this is not reread because as i have said before im lazy and INSANE! 
[this is a sequel to Mr Miller.    part three   other Joel fics:     fever       landmines  ]
★  
this was a mistake. you shouldn't have done this....this was a terrible idea. 
fuck. 
the chair is stiff beneath you. there's a hard coolness about it that is welcomed on the skin of your bare legs, the shorts you wear helpful in the heat of summer but futile against the slick of sweat that sheens your skin. the chair is hard, but yet still strong, sturdy.
 you swallow dryly, heart beating fast. it's the same chair you sat at just a few weeks ago, signing the log with Joel leaning over your shoulder, before he-
you look away, around, anywhere in order to avoid the memories, hot and boiling and clawing at your mind and suffocating you until you stop breathing- and then your eyes settle, they glue themselves across the kitchen table. 
they glue themselves to him. 
fuck. 
Joel's already staring at you; his lips are downturned in that permanent grimace he always sports, the muscles of his torso rigid with immobility - perhaps he thinks if he's still enough, the ground will just swallow him whole and he won't have to do this. 
you yearn for that escape as much as he does. 
then, out of the silence; "see, this isn't so bad." 
speak for yourself, Ellie. 
both heads in the room turn to the speaker slowly, the girl watching between the two of you, more than willing to ignore the obvious disdain in the air. she's grinning like a damn devil. 
this girl's going to kill you. 
it is that bad, contrary to Ellie's statement. 
it'd been days of her begging you, with a tug on the hand, a punch to the shoulder, and countless pleads and threats until you finally caved in and accepted her proposal to have her and Joel over for dinner. 
no matter how much you detest her guardian, you just can't resist those big puppy-dog eyes, or that gigantic, youthful smile. 
for the last few months, Ellie has grown to be quite the little farmhand for you; though you like to keep to yourself on your days in the gardens, it was nice to have the girl buzzing around you and the other gardeners, pollinating each person she sees with questions like what really happens in germination and is this ripe? can I pull it? 
it's cute, how excited she is to show Joel all of the crops you've grown with her in the last few months. but what isn't cute, is that it's him that has to be here. of all people, why did Joel have to be the one Ellie chose as her father? 
because.... things weren't okay between you and Joel. 
you're not sure if you were childish for expecting for him to warm up to you after - well, after the time he bent you on this table and fucked you stupid - but you hadn't been prepared for the coldest shoulder you've ever gotten in your measly life for the last few weeks. 
it didn't help that the summer was kicking up and you needed more crops than ever for the commune; your patrolling had dwindled into maybe one or two every week or so, usually with Maria - so you didn't have to face Joel, really, at all. 
but he avoided you like the plague when in town or on your street (though, he did that with everyone) and even at the Tipsy Bison, where your presence would clean him from the room before a drop of condensation could even slide down his glass of whiskey. 
hell, maybe he even put a word in with Maria and Tommy that the last patrol together didn't go as planned; you'd even considered doing it at one point. you're not sure, but it just made you all the more irritated when you'd catch glimpses of their porch in the afternoons, Joel holding a guitar around Ellie's chest, chuckling as she strummed horribly. as if everything was okay. like you didn’t exist. 
the anger and hatred grew awful. 
it festered, grew when Maria mentioned off-handedly to Tommy that some woman, Dahlia, had taken a liking to Joel. you'd nearly shattered the glass you were holding in your fist at that; Joel, with Dahlia? that grumpy piece of shit, taking a liking to someone sweet and kind like her? 
you ought to punch his fucking face. 
you're zoned out when Ellie suddenly comes into your line of sight; reaching over your chest to grab a slice of the fresh bread you'd picked up earlier that day. you blink back into reality as Joel grunts, "E-Ellie, hey." he's shaking his head as he gestures to her arm, "use your manners." 
he sounds almost embarrassed; annoyed. your mind betrays you as it whirls back; when Joel had you pinned down on this very table, commanding you in a different way, his eyes dark with delight as you cried and writhed for him. 
but at his chastising, you send Ellie a sneaky look, rolling your eyes when Joel's looking down. the girl chuckles at that and an untrusting Joel stares daggers between the two of you. Ellie clears her throat with a smirk,  "sorry. can you please pass me the bread?" 
you grin, "why, yes, ma'am." you hand her the basket, "thank you for asking." you add to the girl on your right, your eyes on Joel's. he stares back harshly, hand grabbing for the glass of wine that sits in front of him. 
another few moments of tension before Elie decided to take it upon herself to introduce as much of the food that sits on the table in front of you as she can remember. 
peas, spinach, lentil and cabbage stew, beet salad, goat cheese and roasted carrots, cauliflower mash. fresh bread.
proteins from animals are scarce and are typically served in only the dining hall, so you decided to skip the meat and serve roasted artichoke instead. Joel doesn't look too thrilled about that as Ellie explains. you hide your scoff behind a sip of your dark wine. 
"-and, look, I planted these beets." Ellie points to the bowl on the table which houses arugula and beet salad; you smirk down at the plate as Joel hums as if interested. his eyes flicker to yours from across the table as Ellie delves in on a tangent about how bloody beets look, those dark pupils flickering over your face before flitting back to the young girl. his eyes were swimming with something else, something.... seductive. 
a shiver runs down your spine.
does he ever think about it? 
you do. you think about it every night - how his hands felt, rough, unforgiving; the look on his face, that dark smirk when he'd made you beg for him to ruin you... the frenzy in his eyes when he'd ‘taught you some goddamn manners,’ when he'd taken you apart brutally and quick. Joel was a mean, mean man. and you eat it up like a woman starved for months. 
your name calls you back to Ellie, whose eyes are wide and tracing over a rough, splintered notch in your table, "the hell is this from, is it-" her fingers jolt away at the rugged piece that slides into her skin, "shit!" she yelps, shaking her hand. 
your brows furrow, rising to help her as Joel pulls her hand towards him.  "I have tweezers." you mutter, disappearing into your bathroom to pull out your tweezers, returning to see Ellie smiling in embarrassment and Joel sitting with his arms crossed, amused irritation lacing his face. his beard is growing in more recently - you can hear the noise of the short bristles scratching his hand as he rubs his knuckles over his jawline. 
nodding, pleased that Ellie's discomfort has subsided, you set your tweezers on your right, spearing some salad on your fork as silence cradles you three yet again. 
it’s only tense and silent for a moment. then Ellie speaks, and it’s just tense.
"why is there a notch like that in your table?" she finally wheezes, as if she'd been summoned to be silent until she couldn't handle her curiosity anymore. 
you don't have to look up to know that a pair of dark eyes pin you to your chair, daring you to say something about it. 
your throat dries as you swallow your mouthful of salad, coughing a bit. 
a rip in your flannel, the grazing of your soft skin with the blade. a hand pulling hard to dislodge the knife from its home against you; the thick slide of Joel as he drags his length through your destroyed, spent core. 
"um- I-I" perhaps it's your panic, of the knowledge that his eyes are glued to you, but soon your eyes meet his; unwavering. "well. someone likes to threaten people when they can't find patrol logs." 
"Joel!" Ellie hisses, smacking his arm, "you fucking stabbed her table and didn’t do anything about it?” she’s grinning. 
"yeah, Joel," you smirk, swirling with desire as his hawkish gaze pins you to your chair, "you really should use your manners. you've ruined my table." 
"shut the hell up right now." he snaps at you, hand slamming his fork down harshly onto the plate. you and Ellie both jump at the sternness in his voice. 
you listen, for once. 
and honestly, ten minutes ago feels like heaven compared to the tenseness of this silence. 
several minutes go by, the sounds of scraping forks and knives and the meager attempts by you and Ellie to salvage a decent dinner conversation ringing soft in your kitchen. 
at least you and her are trying. 
you ignore the notch from the knife like a wildfire and pretend Joel isn't even with you; Ellie is more than enough life and laughter for you, and your playful disposition matches hers perfectly despite the joy-damper of a man sat across from you. 
he's stewing. arms crossed, chewing on food here and then, mostly listening and sighing, brushing off Ellie's jabs or playful questions or stories. he won't do anything except eat and glare at you. 
the wine bottle is nearly gone and you're not sure if it's his fault or yours. probably both. 
you snap when he just outright ignores Ellie, shaking his head with a sigh and taking another bite. the audacity. 
"-she asked you a question, Miller." you snap, fed up with his dissociative disposition. you don't even intend to say it; even Ellie looks up at your words, surprised. 
his head turns to face you too slow to be safe. his eyes are fucking furious as he mutters, "excuse me?" 
"hey, guys-" Ellie's hands are out in front of her, but you can't take your eyes off him. 
"I'm just saying, you could at least try to pay attention." you spit, crossing your arms defensively, "we made this dinner, we're just trying to have a conversation, the least you could do-" 
"you don't tell me what to do." he states, calm and cool, pointing at you. his nose flares as he breaths heavy, your own breath quickening. arousal rushes to your center and you shift on your seat. 
"-listen, maybe this was a bad idea. I knew you weren't the best of friends, but this is-" Ellie starts again, eyes flickering between you both. "this is too awkward." 
"no, Ellie, I'm sorry-" you start to say, breaking. 
you don't want her to be caught in the cross-fire of your problems with Joel; it's unfair. the further this goes, the more she'll be put in a position of mediator, so you figure it should just end now. 
"Ellie, go home." 
Joel growls the demand, eyes looking to her, his hand falling gently to her shoulder. her eyes widen, as if asking him if he's serious. 
"what?" she asks, "no! you'll-you’ll fucking stab each other or something." 
yeah, you think. you might. 
Joel's shaken off her shoulder but he's resilient, "go on, go see the kids for the movie. I'll come later. we just need to sort something out." he mutters, eyes falling to you at the tail end of his sentence. 
shivers roll down your spine; fuck, fuck - a flood of arousal hits you again, and you swallow, willing the feelings to go the fuck away. 
Ellie's scowling, but still has the decency to thank you for dinner before slamming the door hard on her way out of the threshold. 
Joel's eyes stay locked with yours until her footsteps are gone. 
it’s silent for a moment before he speaks. 
"do not fuckin' disrespect me like that in front of her again." he snaps. 
you narrow your eyes, "you're concerned that I- what, I undermined you in front of your girl?" you hiss incredulously. "come on, that's pathetic." 
"I don't like you." he snaps, shoving his plate away from him in an almost childish act of defiance. it’s shocking, the immaturity of his words so sudden. barely prompted. 
it's clear he intends to continue this little confessional of his, but you have no intention of allowing that. 
you roll your eyes, "big fucking deal. what do you want me to say?" you hiss, "sorry that I was rude, Mr. Miller! let me just cook you fucking dinner and invite you over to make up for it." 
his nostrils flare, "never wanted to do this in the first place." he mutters. 
you nearly rip out your hair in frustration. "obviously you didn't! christ, why do you always act like everything you do is a goddamn chore?" you snap, "Ellie wanted to have a nice night and show you what we've been doing- what she's been doing for this community. and all you can do is sit here and act like a fucking asshole because you don't know how to enjoy anything. it's a miracle she's still around with you, when you treat her like that." 
his jaw clicks in anger, "you have no fuckin' clue what we've been through together." his voice is close to a yell, "you don't know how much that girl means to me." 
"then why won't you show her!?" you yell. 
it quiets the room for a moment and a fleeting feeling of pride is squashed when he speaks again. 
his brows raise, a look of realization creeping onto his face. he nods his head, "I see what this is," he lets out a bitter, mocking laugh. "you want me to tell you how much I love your food? y'trying to prove to me that you're not a bad influence on her, after all?" 
you stare at him, anger clouding your sight; are there tears of frustration rimming your eyes? you hope he doesn't notice. 
"-newsflash, darlin', I don't fucking care about you." he finishes, scowl dark. "you're a nuisance. don' know why Tommy took you in, anyways. you're a foul-mouthed, untrustworthy, pathetic little slut- and jus' because you can't stop thinking about my cock doesn't mean I owe anything to you. no dinner, no fuckin- cordial neighborly attitude, nothing." 
thinking about- what?
oh, fuck him. your face burns; your jaw unhinges. of course he thinks this is about you and him. your eyes spare a quick, fleeting glance to the notch in the table before you glare, "well I don't fucking care about you either, Miller. don't be so fucking conceited." 
he laughs, shaking his head as he downs the remainder of his wine before slamming the glass down, but you're not finished. you can't let him think he's won. 
"you’re delusional. I haven't thought of it once." you spit, aflame at his accusation. you feel flustered, still caught off-guard. if anything, it was him who was obsessed with it - you see the way his eyes can't leave you; the way he adjusted his jeans earlier when you leaned over to pull a bowl from your cabinet. 
"really?" he spits, brows raised. his chest moves with the exertion of your yelling and you resist the urge to hit him or stomp your foot or anything. "yes, really." you defend, face heating up under the scrutiny of his knowing gaze. 
"anyone ever tell you you're an awful liar, sweetheart?" he drawls, raising his brows at you. 
you fume, standing up, pointing to the door, "get the fuck out, Joel." 
his eyes light ablaze with the same anger that rages in your heart as he stands, throwing his napkin on his plate, "gladly. food was great." he spits, storming out of the house with no other words. 
-- 
your scowl doesn't leave your face for the entire rest of the night. what- what the fuck was that? how dare Joel assume so much about you- he doesn't know you, at all. 
your eyes fall to the bottle in your hands.
ellie left her water canteen at your place. you were so angry, so mad earlier, that you hadn’t realized she’d left it until a few minutes ago. 
she doesn't need it, right? she could get it next time she comes round. yeah. she'll get it next time, you don't have to go over. right?
no. 
you have to go over. 
the anger within you festers just as much as the slick that plagues the apex of your thighs in the aftermath of your spat with Joel; it's a vicious cycle where you think about his tone, how condescending it was and then you get mad - but some sick part of you wants it to consume you; wants him to consume you. 
you’re fucking obsessed with him. you hate him. 
you need to hear him yell at you again- if-if anything, to get your ten cents in on the argument, and also maybe to get some good content for your wet dreams tonight. jesus christ. 
god, you're so fucked up. 
christ. 
so once you finish cleaning from the remnants of the meal, your legs are carrying you over to his house with Ellie's canteen in your hand before you can second-guess it. 
what the fuck are you doing? 
you're standing on their porch in mere seconds, your breath heavy with wrath. what if Ellie opens the door? well- you suppose, if she does, you'll give her the canteen and talk to her. probably apologize for acting the way you did. no business with Joel, then. yeah.  that’s... that’s fine. 
fuck. why do you want Joel to answer so terribly? 
you know where the answer lies - a coiling beast of arousal, consuming and muddling your mind, just at the apex of your thighs. 
Joel is a fucking asshole. you need him. now. 
your knuckles slam so hard and unforgiving against their door that there is no possibility of them assuming it's anybody else but you at their porch. their light is flickering and dim above you as you stand, canteen in hand, eyes trained forward in determination.  
the door swings open in an air of irritation. 
your face jerks back as Joel Miller stands, staring at you with the disdain of a thousand lifetimes swirling around his eyes. 
"y'here for more?" he snarks. 
your momentary hesitation melts away when his words drip from his lips. a glare pierces him through the eyes when you shove the canteen into his hands, "I'm here for Ellie. she left this." you spit. 
he lets out a chuckle, humor absent from the ring as he scratches his nose, "right." he mutters. "well she ain't home. went to the movie in town." he clips, setting the canteen on the table just inside the house. "y'need me to pass any more of your words of wisdom on to her?" he asks, voice clipped and prickled with sarcasm. 
you glare. "yeah. just do me a favor, tell her I'm sorry her dad is being a hypocritical, neglecting asshole." you snark, sending a false smile up at him as he leans with his arms crossed at the doorway.
you don't miss how he leans into it, how he's not slamming the door on your face. he wants to argue, too. "-and you can suck a dick, Mr. Miller." you add, intending to whirl away on your heel. 
he scoffs, a deep and condescending noise. "thanks for comin' all the way over to return a little canteen. g'night, darlin', hope you don't make too much'a mess when you cum all over that table again tonight thinkin' of how much I hate you. glad y'got your ten cents in." 
your face burns hot in embarrassment, and at the irony of him using the same phrase you’d thought. 
the door moves quick to shut, but your arm moves quicker. 
your hand wedges is just before it shuts, leaving you far too close to Joel than you'd like - gunpowder, pine, and dark amber whiskey surround your senses. again. 
so you shoot another fist forward, aiming for his left jaw; aiming for it to hurt.
he’s going to fucking hurt.  
it doesn't make contact with the warm skin, though: no, his hand has caught your wrist in an iron-tight grip, wrenching your arm down hard. 
you let out a gasp of surprise as he shoves you off of the door and away from him before you can blink. 
but instead of the door slamming in your face, his rough hands are pushing you hard up against the side of his garage. the door behind him remains ajar as he pushes himself into your space, growling at you as your mouth falls open in shock. 
"did you just try to hit me, girl?" he whispers, voice deadly serious. you swallow, arousal rushing down to your heat; you swear you can feel your heartbeat in your pussy as he stares hard at you, but your eyes trail down to his jeans.
you hide your smirk as you take in the stretch of the rough denim, the outline of his own arousal evident even in the dim light. he’s hard because you were going to hit him. 
your body aches as you remember the stretch of him inside you, splitting you open. your eyes flicker back up to his where he breathes heavily, expecting a response. 
you give him one. 
"yes, but you already knew that." you smirk, cocking your head as you boldly gyrate your hips forward slightly, your clothed cunt clenching in desire as you graze his hard-on. "or are you not hard right now, Mr. Miller?" you purr, your voice laced with seduction. 
his rough hand shoves your hips hard back against the wall, a growl slipping his throat. "y'got a dirty fuckin' mouth on you." his breath hits your cheeks in a warm reminder of the wine you'd both had for dinner. 
"so it wasn't because of that?" you ask, blinking in a false sense of innocence, watching as his eyes swim with an animalistic hunger. you've got him right where you want him. "was it from thinking about me touching myself? or, from remembering the last time we were together in my house?" 
his momentary lapse in recovery allows for you to go in for the final kill, "Mr. Miller,” you coo, “do you think of my pussy when you fuck Dahlia? d'you wish it was me?" you spit, smirking up at him as red splatters his furious features, "you can talk all you want, Mr. Miller, but I know you're just a greedy, desperate man who loves to pretend you have any power over me." you whisper into the shell of his ear, palm roughly grabbing the outline of his cock boldly. 
his next movements take your breath away: the shock of his fists slamming hard against the wall on either side of your head makes you jump, and his hawkish, angry eyes bore into yours. 
"get your fuckin' hands off of me. now." 
his voice is... scary. 
the blood leaves your head as your damp spot of your pants floods with desire, the fear spiking a real excitement in you. you are smart enough to follow his orders; the look in his eyes suggests you do so. 
your hands shakily fly back from his crotch to hang by your sides as you stare up at him - nervous. excited, ready. 
his eyes are narrowed, stern as his brows are furrowed low. the permanent scowl on his lips is intimidating as he holds your gaze with fierce intent. "you're gonna be real fuckin' honest with me, now. okay?" 
you swallow dryly, staring up at his face, how he's boxed you in with arms on either side of your head. you feel cornered, small; prey, hunted by predator. 
you nod smally, startled into silence, unable to speak as the ache between your legs becomes unbearable. your legs clench, searching for relief only to be disappointed at the dull sensation. 
he stares at you for a few moments, unmoving except for the flaring of his nostrils and the rising of his chest as he breathes just as heavy as you. 
"are you wet?" 
your face flushes with heat. christ, Joel is going to kill you. (if you don't kill him first). your legs feel weak, desire driving your heart rate up as you nod meekly, voice cracking out. "y-yes." 
he nods, seemingly pleased with your honesty. 
"how long have you been walkin' round with ruined panties?" his head tilts down slightly, angled down at you as if chastising you. you flush in shame, genuinely taking a moment to remember the exact moment you first noticed your underwear dampen. 
you can't admit to him that you woke up this morning with his name on your lips and a wet patch on the seat of your sleep shorts, can you? (and certainly not that it happens every day.) 
"s-since-" you take a sharp inhale, glaring at him for humiliating you like this - outside, no less. anybody could walk past or look out their window and see Joel and you like this. "dinner." 
his brows raise, the look darkening on his face. you can tell, he loves the beginning - the teasing, the arguing, the embarrassment - just as much as the end. "dinner? s'like, two hours." his frown immodest, tempting. judging. 
you nod, biting back a snide comment about Joel being an excellent time-teller, your face burning in embarrassment as you break eye contact, staring at your feet. 
"d’you like being a slut?" he asks, then. you nearly whimper at his words, the aching in your cunt burning, pulsing and clenching around nothing as you stare at him in desire. fuck Joel Miller. 
"'m not a slut." you say, but the defiant words come out more as a whine than a sharp argument. one hand falls from the wall on your left to grip onto your jaw, holding your cheeks hard as he forces your eyes back up to him. 
his nails dig into the soft flesh of your cheeks as you gasp, your own hands in fists as you resist pulling him into you. 
"that's not what I fuckin' asked, now, is it?" he sneers. you blink up at him, shaking your head after a moment of contemplation. "no, sir." you whisper meekly. you don't miss the tightening of his grip at the honorific as it falls sultry from your lips. he hums. 
"do you want me to touch you?" he asks next. you can't even have the decency to stop your whine as you nod, "yes, please." 
his other hand falls from the wall, eyes just as angry and unforgiving as he undoes the button on your shorts single-handedly. "good. don't you fuckin' look away from my eyes, y'hear me? hands down, eyes up." 
this is twice now that he hasn't let you touch him - your brows furrow, but just as he snaps in front of your face, you let the thought melt away. 
"y-yes, sir." you nod, your palms sweaty, heart thundering as he shoves his hand down the front of your shorts, breaching your underwear easily as fingers slide through the deft curls that lie just above your heat. 
"gotta warm y'up for me this time," he mutters, eyes sharp as he watches yours, ensuring they don't do as much as blink. 
it's delicious, almost too much as two of his thick fingers part the seam of your lips, your wetness spilling and coating his fingers immediately. you burn in shame, thighs starting to close over his hand. 
one ruddy, thick thigh slides to kick your leg to the side, widening your stance as he shoves you harder up against the side of the house. the tip of his finger prods at your aching hole, leaking with desperation for him. 
there are crickets outside, a steady but low staccato of music filling the summer Jackson air as one finger slowly slides into you, curling unforgivingly as you gasp, rising on your toes as he stretches you. "fuck," you whimper, throwing your head back against the wall behind you. 
the thud is dull, but it echoes around the street and it calls your attention to the very public space you're in. 
"hey." Joel snaps, one hand swatting your cheek lightly as your eyes close, "don't look away." 
you blink back at him as he pumps lazily for a few moments, watching your every micro-expression, the way your chest stutters with his motions. the noise of your arousal is humiliating against the pleasant summer breeze. 
you can't help the low moan of his name when he adds a second finger. the stretch is nothing like when it's his cock inside of you, but the strokes, the curl of his fingers start to coax a simmering coil in you that you know will explode soon. 
your eyes are still on his obediently when you nearly whisper it. 
he hears it, though, and smirks, "what was that, darlin’?" 
you groan in irritation but it splinters into a sharp moan when his fingers pick up their pace, fucking into you as you lie slack against the wall, legs trembling. 
"just- fuck me. fuck me now." you wheeze, the desire a burning snake that coils around your chest and squeezes at your heart. 
"no." he decides, eyes glaring, "can't have y'whining like a bitch again, darlin'. gotta open you up on my fingers first." the sting of his words are cushioned by the lust that swirls around his voice, the languid was his thick fingers pump up into you, holding you up against the frame of the house with a dark smirk. 
you nod, hissing in stimulation when one finger slides to start rubbing your neglected clit with just enough pressure to curl your toes; your chest is slick with sweat, fingernails digging painfully into the meat of your palm as you hum, lips sealed tight to avoid yelping out. 
your eyes flicker from his once more, scanning the street just feet away from you, paranoid of the possibility of a neighbor seeing you. 
Joel notices, of course. "what, baby, don' want the neighbors to see?" he hums, eyes cutting into you as your face flushes with heat, "y'seemed to want everybody to hear me fucking you stupid last time, didn't 'ya?" 
you groan, "fuck you, Joel." 
his hand stops its ministrations just as cold ice pours down your spine. oh, shit. 
his hand slides out of your pants, face furious. 
you shake your head, eyes welling with tears; you hadn't meant for it to slip out like that. "n-no, wait, 'm sorry, didn't mean it." you whimper, voice choked with the loss of his hand. 
he just huffs a cold chuckle, wiping his hand over his face, the other one glistening with your juices under the light of the porch. 
your panicked, desperate babble of apologies is stopped with one look from him. 
"get on your goddamn knees now." 
you shiver with excitement, tears drying slightly as you swallow, complying quickly. the cement is rough and cold under your bare knees, your hands held still together on your thighs as you stare up at him in wait. he stands tall before you; the shroud of the flickering porch light emboldening him, making him look like a god - an unforgiving one, at that - as he pulls his thick, pulsing cock from his jeans. 
your mouth waters as he starts to pump it languidly, the tip a red color from arousal, leaking precum. 
he doesn’t have to ask you to open your mouth for him, your own desire to taste him spurring you to stick your tongue out flat in wait for his dick. 
"I'm going to ask you again." he says, tapping your tongue with the weight of his length, the slapping noise flooding your underwear as you ache to feel him again. "do you like being a slut?" 
you swallow, tongue sliding along the bottom of his head as you do, muttering a slight, "yes, sir." 
"'s right. you love being my slut." he nods, your mouth open and ready for him as he thrusts his whole length into your wet, warm mouth; you gag almost immediately, his hips unforgiving as he immediately starts to fuck into your throat. you try your best to breathe through your nose, gagging as his tip pokes the back of your throat - you know there'll be a bruise that will make it painful to eat, drink, speak - you fucking love it. 
he lets out a grunt of arousal, nodding as his hands gather your hair from your face, gripping your cheeks and pushing your head back against the side of the house. 
two thrusts, a few tears from your eyes as you choke, your lungs burning for air. 
he pulls away, you suck in air with a strangled gasp. your saliva links you to his heavy cock, a chain that holds you in his grasp. "tell me you love being my slut." 
you burn at his words and in your brief hesitation, his cock is slapping at your mouth, his impatience bleeding through his actions. 
"I-" your voice is wrecked after only a few seconds of him in your mouth, but you swallow as you gasp for air, "I l-love being your slut." 
he slides himself through your slick lips again, hips a punishing pace as he fills up your mouth, your throat tight and wet. his groan echoes through the street; in the corner of your eye, you swear you see a light turn on in a bedroom window. shivers of desire run through you as you resist the urge to touch yourself. 
you can't breathe; your nose brushes against the course hair at the base of his shaft, the scent of him surrounding you as his hips try to smash you against the side of the house. 
he holds you there, hands rough on your cheeks, slapping your right cheek as it bulges with his length. you choke, gagging as you try your hardest to keep eye contact. his face is harsh, his sneer cold as he stares at you, "'s right, choke on your fuckin' words, darlin'." his hips press forward slightly and you cough around him, it's too much - tears slide down your cheeks as you try not to gag more. 
"you gonna disrespect me again?" he asks, tilting his head as spit trails down your chin, tears meeting the trail of saliva as it drips down onto your chest. 
you can only hum a nuh-uh around his cock, hoping it's enough to satisfy him. you feel yourself throb and fucking burn with need, your knees sore from the cement under you. 
you cough and sputter when he pulls himself away from you, mouth sore, jaw aching and throat wrecked. his eyes flicker over to the house across the street before he grips your shoulder, tugging you in your aroused, dazed state up to your legs. 
"oh, darlin', you're bleedin'." he coos at you, thumb swiping your cheek as you stand up. he's right: your knees are just scratched enough to speckle the skin with dark splotches of blood. you feel a tingling sensation of arousal as he hums, "let's get you inside, hm?" 
you stumble to keep up as he storms through the threshold of the house, the door swinging shut after your shaking frame falls inside. it's dark; there is only one lamp turned on in the other room. 
Joel is almost a shadow as he surrounds you, your hands falling onto his large, stiff shoulders as he pushes you against the door frame. 
your legs give out from desire soon and the two of you tumble to the ground, a mess of grunts and shoves, tearing at clothes as you whimper in desire, his own lustful groans echoing the empty house. as his pants are shucked off and your shorts are thrown across the room, your hips are shoved and flipped over until you're ass-up for him, one of his large hands moving roughly to grab a handful of your plush behind. 
your hands and knees ache, but you wiggle your ass slightly in need, not daring to speak to him. the anger that radiates from the two of you is a grenade; you can feel the tension bubbling behind your desire and so you just move back until you brush against his hard length, the fabric of your panties completely soaked as you grind against him. 
his moan echoes as a hand falls hard to slap against the skin of your ass. you let out a strangled yell, the pain stinging through you as you keen forward. you know there will be a handprint branded into you, you know it'll be sore to sit and you'll have to think of him each time. he'll consume you for days. 
you love it. 
his fingers tease the wet material that's glued to your pussy with desire, tracing over your lips lightly over the fabric. "pretty cunt, just for me." he mutters; you shake with desire when you realize it was more a mutter for him than an intentional phrase for you to hear.
"think you're ready for me, baby?" he grunts, his fingers pulling your underwear to the side, exposing your puffy, glistening cunt to him. 
"I'm so re-ready sir, please, fuck me." you beg, reduced yet again to nothing but a writhing mess for the worst man you know. 
he gives no warning, no teasing - he breaches you swiftly and rough. you scream. 
it cracks, it echoes, it's painful as you yell out, his cock heavy and huge and aching as he slides into you, sheathing you fully within a few seconds. Joel's moan reverberates on your skin as his hands grip so hard at your ass you think his fingers will remain there for days. 
he immediately sets a pace that has you squirming under him, breath choking up in your chest as you slide against the hardwood. the smell of the house is Joel - sandalwood, whiskey, pine. sex. 
your arms are tugged roughly. 
panic rises in you when you think you're about to slam your face against the floor, but as Joel pounds hard into you, he pulls your hands tight to your back, holding you up to you're suspended with just his cock working you open can keep you from falling. 
it's bliss. it's sharp, this angle; he hits into that spongy spot inside you as his cock drags against your pulsing walls, your hands clenching as your breath leaves you. 
one hand sneaks over your front, grasping at your tits as he reaches up into you deeply. then it snakes lower, rocking you forward as he swats at your clit, the sharp smack of his palm causing you to squeeeeeze around him, trapping him in your aching desire. he lets out a grunt, "fuckin'- jesus christ, girl, you're s-so tight."
the noises of your arousal swallowing his dick echo around the room in a sickening chorus. 
"dumb girl, lovin' it when I yell at her," he mutters to himself, chasing your high as he feels it spasming close around him. "gonna be o-obedient and thank me for each orgasm, 'kay?" his accent is thick in the throes of passion, you notice. 
you nod, unable to speak, unable to think as you feel the crest of something incredibly blissful; you let out a wheeze of ecstasy. "y-yes, s-sir," you choke, your voice croaking from the remnants of his dick wrecking you. 
you barely realize you're cumming until you’re screaming, a white-hot, searing arousal streaking your vision. tears are resurfacing on your eyes as he hums, "say it." 
you swallow, shakily squirming as he pounds into you, unforgiving in tone and pace. "than-thank you." 
it only takes a few more minutes and his thick hand squeezing your throat before you cum for a second time, your hands pulling at his hips, trying to escape the overstimulation of his long, dragging thrusts. the floor is slick with your juices, and so is his pubic bone. 
"thank you, s-sir." you slur out, his hand holding you by the throat against his chest, his heartbeat slamming just as fast as yours. 
soon he drops your arms, their shaky muscles barely stopping you as you fall to the floor. his chest follows you until he's smothering you, thrusts becoming weak with his own nearing orgasm. you cry, the overstimulation causing you to shake. "'s too much, too much." 
he hums, "you want me to stop?" 
"no!" you scream it, wail it; no, christ, don't stop. never stop. 
he chuckles; a dark, brooding noise. "an' you wonder why I think you're such a bad influence." he mutters into the shell of your ear as he pushes further, deeper into you; "lettin' an old man fuck you into the floor. lovin' it." 
he chuckles as you let out a whine, eyes screwing shut at the bursts of pleasure coursing through you. your knees ache.
"'s dirty, isn't it? and you love it, pretty girl." 
you let your cheek drop onto the hardwood at his ministrations, spent from your previous orgasms; the pet name makes you flush, arching your hips back. he's so deep, you feel him in your throat. each thrust pushes his tip into your cervix, a dull ache with a swirl of pleasure and ecstasy. you let out a groan, "love it, love it s'much. love it, sir, thank you." you whimper, your brain empty except for Joel Joel JoelJoel-
"good m-manners, sweet girl." he hums, pressing a hot kiss to your spine. goosebumps form in his wake, his words echoing in your brain. sweet girl. 
"you're gonna cum one more time." he orders, the thrusts of his hips grinding you down, melting you, tearing you. you nod, "yes, yes-yes, fuck, gonna-gonna cum again." you whimper, the painful overstimulation of his cock drilling through your spent, swollen folds. 
your third orgasm has you wailing, shaking your head as you convulse in pleasure, his strong grip holding your hips down as he hits your spot repeatedly, the noise of him fucking into you echoing through the foyer. 
there's tears on the floor as you shake, colors exploding behind your eyes as he whispers things you cannot hear into your ear. 
when you come to, he's still ravaging your body. 
you're limp, ecstasy flowing through your very being as his cock spears through you, hands smacking you, gripping you, grunts leaving his mouth as he nears his own orgasm, having pulled three from you. 
"where are your manners?" he whispers into your ear. you let out a broken half-laugh, half-gasp. "fuck- thank you, Joel, thank you." 
he hums in satisfaction and you swear you feel his cock twitch inside you as you utter his first name. 
he's back in your ear in seconds, surrounding you, swallowing you whole. you love it. 
"this is my pussy. mine." he grunts, "never think 'bout any other pussy. jus' this one. always." his voice is laced with desperation as he swats your ass, thrusting into you a few more times as you squirm, sobbing, throat raw. 
yours, you whimper in a chorus, body limp as he uses you; his thrusts are sloppy. he's so close- 
and he cums just as he's pulling out of you; you gasp at the loss but also as his cum shoots hot spurts across the plush curve of your ass, a bit onto your spine - most of it over your ruined pussy, streaking you in white. 
you pulse around nothing, shaking as your legs give out. he groans a deep thing, fingers falling to spread you open, the lewd noise soft and slick.
you jolt and he shushes you with a soft caress of your back. "jus' wanna see it, baby. wanna see how I ruined you." 
you swallow dryly at that, nodding as you tilt your hips, eager to feel his eyes over you, over all of you; eager for him. 
a finger smears his spend over your juices, pressing lightly at your puckered hole, pushing some of his cum back into you. "fuckin' christ, girl." 
you set out a laugh that turns into a cough of pain at the ragged state of your throat. 
he stands and leaves you on the cold floor, covered in sweat. you try not to let your heart deflate when he’s gone. 
but he returns with a rag and hands it to you before shucking his jeans on; you pull your underwear back on with shaky hands once you’ve wiped yourself clean, your body exhausted. 
you sigh. even the thought of making the trek just a few houses down to your own place is daunting as your eyes flutter. something in his eyes glint in understanding when your gazes meet each other, and he seems to get it. 
so if Joel gathers you in his arms with a grunt and a short complaint, you don't think too much about it. 
(you hate him. he hates you.)
and if he holds your head to his chest as he starts the walk back to your house, it’s not a big deal to you. 
when brings you up into your bedroom instead of leaving you at your front door as he finally carries you to your house, you chalk it up to you being nearly asleep. you must be delirious when he tucks you into your mattress and pulls your blankets up. you swear he mutters something about dinner and nice and good job. 
(what a cocky asshole.) 
it's probably a dream, when a hand caresses the sweaty skin of your forehead, brushing hair away gently before footsteps disappear through the doorway. 
. part three .
requests open
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kiritella-tlou · 1 year
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Innocent Joel Recs?
So, I get it...but there seem to be an absurdly large amount of Joel Miller smut out there and very little basic soft innocent stuff. Like, can we just have Reader washing away the blood from Joel’s knuckles? Reader kissing his forehead?
Joel finding Reader in Jackson and it’s weird and awkward for a while? Joel fixing the reader’s broken door handle because he is totally an Acts of Service kind of man and just wants to take care of her? Taking care of Joel when he’s tired? Innocent showering together?
Or what about Joel finding a teenager alone that had been raised outside and has gone mute after so long of hiding from clickers? Joel helping teach a teenager in Jackson how to use a knife for self defense? A kid teaching Joel how to crochet or knit because he said he was stressed and the kid’s best coping mechanism has been working with their hands and he doesn’t have the heart to tell them no? Little kids absolutely loving Joel?
Can I please please get some innocent Joel Miller x Reader?
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rottenblur · 4 months
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Joel fucking miller
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Study break
best friends dad! Joel
Part one
Part two☀︎
Part three☀︎
Part four ★☀︎
Ongoing…
My modern romeo
Star crossed lovers! Joel
Part one
Part two ☀︎
Part three ★☀︎
Ongoing..
Main masterlist.
most recent: ★
Smut: ☀︎
128 notes · View notes
hellsenthero · 1 year
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Addicted
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Joel X Reader
Warnings/themes: Smut, language, hint at an age gap, hint of past violence. (1K words.)
He wasn't good for you, but fuck, he was addicted to you.
MASTERLIST
Written by: hellsenthero
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He was bad for you. He was a dark storm cloud, a serpent in the garden. You were sunshine and orange blossoms. He was from another time, an older time. You were new, fresh to all the world had to offer. Your hands were well manicured, and his were covered in blood. He was every dark thing you weren't. You were every good and golden bit that he wasn't. 
He should have left you alone, stayed away. It's what the others whispered to each other when he had his back turned. He knew it, they knew it, but fuck… he was addicted. 
He was addicted to you. Your pretty voice and soft hands, your golden heart and open mind. When you said his name… when you moaned his name. 
He was an addict and you were his drug of choice. You consumed him.
You'd giggle whenever he'd tell you. A pretty sound. An addicting sound. And when he'd show you, his hips thrusting into your own… those giggles turned to moans. 
"Joel!" Fuck, he loved the sound of his name coming from your lips. 
"That's it baby, doin' so good for me." Your hips opened wider for him, taking everything he had to give you. 
"God, please Joel," he loved your begging, when you'd call out to him like he was your God. But you both knew, silently, that he was the real martyr. 
He was so dark and so bad for you, but you didn't care. When he came home from patrol you were always there, waiting to rush into his arms. When he turned his back on the whispering people of Jackson you'd stare them down, daring them, taunting them, all while holding onto his slippery, scarlet hand. 
Red suits him. It's what you'd say when he'd question you. Red's a colour of passion, a colour of courage and lust. He didn't love the idea of it, not until he found out red was also your favourite colour. 
Now he doesn't find red to be that bothersome. 
You're sweet, like honey. He's bitter, like dark coffee and black licorice. Funny enough, you like your coffee black. No cream, no sugar. He's a cup half empty, and you're a cup half full. 
He's tried to tell you to find someone else, someone good. But the words often die on his lips with a single look from you. Sometimes, he swears you're a mind reader. Or perhaps he's just an open book. 
"Don't gimme' that look Joel." 
"What look?" It wasn't like him to play dumb, but around you, he sometimes couldn't help himself. 
"Like you pity me for bein' with you." 
"Sorry baby."
His easy acceptance of your command was another thing that surprised the people of Jackson. Joel was the boss on patrol, the commander. People feared him in town, stepped on eggshells around him and ducked their heads. His hard glare could be felt by everyone. But then you'd run up next to him, grabbing his hand and steering him wherever you wished. You'd take his lead and he'd gladly follow, like a little puppy. His hard eyes went wide, his frown turning up and he'd follow you. 
God, he'd follow you anywhere. 
He never wanted to have someone again, not after Sarah. He never wanted another liability, another person he could lose. He couldn't open himself up to that kind of pain again. So when you met and he saw this bright, shining light of a person… he'd turned you away. Again and again, he turned you away. He was a fucking asshole. He wished he could punch his past self for the shit he'd pulled. Break his own fucking jaw. But despite all that shit, you stayed by his side and slowly, you wormed your way into his cold, dead heart. 
It wasn't until you nearly died one night that he'd finally admitted his feelings for you, it wasn't until that night that he accepted his feelings for you. 
He was on watch when he fell asleep, something he still blamed himself for. He'd fucking fell asleep on his watch and when he woke it was to the sound of your screams. Five raiders had gotten the drop on you, on him. Three men crowded him, grabbed him, while two held onto you. When he saw their hands on you, grabbing you, his rage wasn't hot and burning, it was cold, a frozen, deadly thing. 
You say what he did next was something unhinged, but he doesn't remember any of it. His memories of the night are scrambled. Raiders, darkness, you. You in his arms, you surrounding him, warming that frozen thing inside of him. 
"I'm okay," you'd told him once he had you in his arms. "You saved us. We're okay. I'm okay." He'd almost believed you, until he noticed your black eye. Then he was reaching for his gun, again. Shooting at the already dead bodies. "Hey, hey, stop that. It's okay, I'm okay." He only stopped shooting once you got the gun out of his hands, then you were pushing him down. His back met the cold earth and you stayed over him, filling his vision. 
Neither of you cared about the dead bodies around you when you'd shedded your clothing. You didn't seem to care about the blood covered earth as you fucked and Joel, well Joel enjoyed it. 
That was the night that Joel realized he was hooked on you, that he'd been hooked on you from the moment he'd met you. It was a night of revelations, of claiming, of bonding, and it was probably the darkest side of you Joel's ever seen. It was a possessive side of you that needed to claim him just as he needed to claim you. 
"Joel, baby," the sound of your voice was such a pretty sound and Joel found himself running his good ear towards you, waiting to hear more, needing to hear more. "Come to bed, it's late." With a creak of the floorboards he turned around and walked towards you. You had the covers of your bed already pulled back for him, an open invitation. "What's goin' on in that head of yours?" You asked once Joel was situated. His arms wrapped around you and he pulled you in tight.
"Just thinkin',"
"About?" 
Joel pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head. "About how fuckin' lucky I am to have you." 
Your laugh warmed him from the inside. "Don't you forget it." 
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anama-cara · 4 months
Text
Part 4. the journey
Raider!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader
Part 5
Summary: It's a long day- you go on a hike, learn how to shoot, and get felt up by Joel. Word count: 2.5k
Warnings: 18+ mdni, fingering (f receiving), age gap, guns, dubcon
a/n: I'm a sucker for the good old 'one sleeping bed' trope. Sorry not sorry. Reader's thoughts are in italics. Part 1. Raider! Joel Masterlist
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You’ve been hiking for six miles now, tromping through the dry overgrown grass as you cross the valley. Joel thought you’d make it to the house by nightfall, that it’s easy to walk eight miles in one day. But it’s not when you’re carrying a sick child that has to make frequent stops to rest or vomit. Your travel is very slow going. As you reach a quiet wooded area you realize there’s no way you’ll make it before night fall. It’s just before dusk, but the trees block out some of the light from the sinking sun, making it even darker. You hear Joel curse in front of you. You’ve been following behind him for the whole hike, watching his back as you walk. You’re carrying your brother on your back with your pack slung across your chest. Joel stops in front of you and turns back.
“We ain’t makin’ it before nightfall. We’ll stop here and set up camp while we still have a little daylight.”
“Is that safe? To camp out here?”
“It’s better than goin’ through these woods in the dark. You’re likely to trip on a root and twist your ankle and I can’t carry both if ya’. We’ll start again at first light.” He drops his pack, discussion over.
You kneel and your brother slides from your back and sits on the forest floor. Taking off your pack you pull out his extra coat and dress him. You tug his arms through and zip it up. With your hands on his little shoulders you tell him, “stay put. I’m going to find some firewood and then we can warm you up, okay? Just stay right here and I’ll be right back.” You rummage an apple out of your pack and hand it to him, “try to eat a little, okay?” Then you stand and toss an apple at Joel. He catches it and looks at you in confusion.
“I’m going to look for some kindling while you set up camp.” You walk away into the trees without looking at him.
By the time you come back, bundle of sticks in your arms, Joel has cleared a little area and set camp, his rifle is propped against a nearby tree. You stop, startled by the sight in front of you. Joel is sitting cross legged on one sleeping bag with a piece of jerking hanging from his mouth. Your brother is sitting on the other sleeping bag, Joel’s jacket wrapped around his shoulders. He’s smiling up at Joel. It’s a sleepy, half smile, but still, he’s smiling, at Joel. You hear Joel say something again but you’re too far away to catch the words. As you walk closer the conversation stops and Joel watches you as you enter the clearing. He leans back on his hands. “That it?”
“Uh no I’ve got more wood, just couldn’t carry it all in one trip.”
“Good cause that won’t last through the night. Drop it here,” he nods to a spot between the sleeping bags. You silently drop the wood, looking at him quizzically. His face remains stoic as he begins arranging the sticks into a teepee. You aren’t sure what to say so you turn silently and go to collect the rest of your wood.
When you get back Joel has gotten the fire started and your brother has scooted to the foot of his sleeping bag to rest closer to the fire. “Good. That’ll be enough for a while.” Joel nods as you set the wood by your packs. The last of the golden rays filtering through the trees have disappeared and it’s dusk now. There’s just a faint grey glow emanating through the tall pine trees to the west.
“Welp. We got bout 15 minutes of light left.” He leans over the fire, feeding it another stick. Then he rubs his palms on his jeans and stands up, knees popping. He stretches, raising his arms and causing his flannel to rise up, revealing a slip of tanned skin. He yawns and motions to you. “Come ‘ere.”
You swallow as you approach him. He doesn’t seem to notice your hesitation. “We got some time to kill so I’m gonna teach you how to shoot.” He pulls a glock from the waistband at his back. You instinctively take a step backwards at the sight of the gun. An image of Joel standing over the body of the clicker with his gun drawn flashes through your mind. Joel is frowning at you.
“Ain’t got be scared sweetheart.” He mutters quietly and takes a step towards you, taking back the distance you put between the two of you. “You otta know how to shoot. Might save your life on day.” You nod. You know he’s right, of course. But you still don’t take your eyes off the gun in his hand.
“Ok. Here’s the basics.” He points out the safety, the magazine, the slide, and the sights. As he explains the anatomy of the gun he moves towards you till he’s right by your side, elbow almost brushing against you. “Got it?” You nod silently again.
Then he’s wrapping an arm around you with his chest pressed into your back. He leans over your right shoulder and you feel his warm breath on your neck. A shiver runs down your spine.
“So then you align your target through the sight here…” He keeps talking but you don’t notice what else he says. Your body is honed in to his touch. His hard chest is warm against your back and you lean into him slightly. Heat comes to your cheeks in embarrassment and you’re glad he doesn’t seem to notice. Suddenly he’s taking your hand and guiding it to wrap around the grip of the gun, he arranges your fingers over the trigger. He pulls your left hand up to wrap around your right, providing support and stabilizing the pistol. He leans further into you and brings his head down so his face is close to yours, your cheeks almost brushing. You feel a tingling of your skin as if there’s some invisible electric connection reaching out. “Aim for that tree over there, align your sights, steady hand, firm grip,” he wraps a hand around yours and gives a little squeeze in emphasis. “Then breathe out and pull the trigger.” He straightens out and lets go of your hands.
“Hang on.” He reaches up and unfolds your beanie, bringing the thick hat down over your ears. Then he brings his own hands up to cover his ears.
You take a deep breath, trying to focus. You ignore the lingering touch of his fingers on your hair as he arranged your hat. You ignore the tickle his facial hair left against your neck and the warmth emanating from him against your cold body. You find your target and pull the trigger. The kickback was more than you expected from such a small gun and you stumble back into Joel’s unyielding chest. You hear the bullet whizz past the tree flying deeper into the forest.
“Shoulda told ya to plant your feet.” He shakes his head. “Again.”
This time you widen your stance and brace yourself as you pull the trigger. There’s a crack of the gun and a small thud as your bullet hits the tree. You gasp and turn your head to look back at him, genuinely surprised to have hit your target. He’s looking down at you approvingly.
“Atta girl.”
--
Your brother is already asleep, tucked into a navy-blue sleeping bag with Joel’s jacket still wrapped around him. It’s completely dark as you go to get in bed. Only the warm orange light from the glow of the fire illuminates your camp. You make to climb in next to your brother, pulling the zipper down an inch before Joel stops you.
“Whatcha doin’?” He hisses from where he’s laying in his bag, propped up on his side facing you. The light from the fire dances across his face.
“Going to bed, what?” You whisper back.
“Na uh.” He pats his sleeping bag next to him.
“Are you insane why would I sleep next to you?”
He raises himself up on his elbow and gives you a glare. “Because, smart one, you shouldn’t be sharing a bed with someone who’s sick and contagious. Caring for him is one thing, but being snuggled up next to him in that bag, you’re asking for it. And if you get sick too, you’re of no use to him. Can’t care for him if you can’t care for yourself.” Shit he’s right. If it’s a respiratory illness or spread from droplets, then you can’t have your face so close to your brother’s, sharing a breath.
“Fine.” You snap.
He smirks at your anger and drops back down to his side, sliding the zipper down and opening the bag for you to climb in. Guess you won’t be sleeping back to back.
You slip into the bag and zip it back up, settling in on your side with your back to him. Joel presses against you and you stiffen. Your body is straight as a board against him, your muscles all tense.
“Relax sweetheart,” he murmurs into your ear. Goosebumps erupt across your skin. His hand snakes over your hip and his palm spreads over your stomach. He pulls you closer to him and your stiff body bends as he spoons you. His hand is warm and you can’t deny that it feels good against you. He releases a heavy breath into your hair. His hand slides down your stomach and creeps under the hem of shirt then glides back up, resting on your bare stomach.
“Jeez you’re cold sweetheart. Shoulda told me earlier, we coulda warmed you up.” His left hand skates over your neck and brushes the hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear. He folds his left arm under his head and scoots closer to you. You are cold, you’re fucking freezing actually, and his warm hands feel so good on your skin. He inhales deeply, face pressed into your hair. His hand on your stomach rubs in soothing circles.
Then he’s leaning forward and he nibbles at your earlobe. He pressed a kiss on your neck, then another, trailing down to your decolletage where his lips stop. He licks at you, then presses his mouth to your soft skin and sucks.
You don’t give him any response, not a sound or a movement. But you aren’t jumping from the sleeping bag or fighting him either. He continues to your shoulder, licking and marking you, leaving a trail of hickies. Joel glides his hand from your stomach up to your breast and cups it. He rolls his thumb over your nipple, already hard and sensitive from the cold.
A shiver runs through you and you shake against him. Your body’s response seems to encourage him and he continues. His thumb presses into your nipple hard then swirls around it. His hand traces across your chest and he grabs at your other tit, giving it attention too. You can’t help but let out a little groan, his warm hands thawing you out as they touch and grope your body. You feel his lips smile against your shoulder as he pauses his kisses.
“You like that?” He rubs your sensitive nipple between his thumb and finger and your breath hitches.
“Hmmm,” he moans into your hair, his warm breath soaking in to you. “Know ya do.”
 You can feel heat beginning to pool in your core. Joel continues to feel you up from behind and you continue to feel your heat growing. He’s touching you and moaning softly in your ear and you feel yourself getting wetter. Joel seems to sense it somehow and you feel his hand move from your breast and slowly start to slide down your stomach, lower and lower till his fingers brush your waistband. He licks up the edge of ear and starts to slide his fingers into your pants.
“Joel” You protest. He ignores you. His fingers slip under your underwear.
“Joel don’t-“ His left hand reaches out and he puts a finger to your lips, shushing you. You struggle against him. You don’t want him to see how wet you are for him. His hand moves from your lips and lightly wraps around your throat. He’s not pressing down, its there just to keep you still as his other hands sinks down to your core. He slides his hand across your hair there and grabs at you. With his palm on your mound, he reaches his four fingers down to swipe across your dripping pussy.
“Oh god.” He groans when he feels how wet and ready you are. Your clit twitches at the sound.
“Oh sweetheart, you shoulda told me you were waiting.” He places another kiss to your neck. You stop squirming. Your breathing is picking up. You know this is so wrong, but his hands feel so good on you.
“So fucking wet for me. Fuck.” He dips a finger inside you and pulls it out to slide up your seem and circle your clit, spreading your slick around. His finger rubs into your clit, playing with it, then sliding back down to draw a lazy circle around your hole before pushing back inside you. He curls his finger, gathering more slick and pulls back again. He repeats, then adds in another finger, going back and forth between your clit and your weeping hole. You are slowly becoming undone, you know you won’t last much longer.
“Joel” you whine.
He circles your clit lazily with his two fingers then sends three fingers prodding into you. He thrusts them in and out, your pussy sufficiently stretched and slick now. He begins fucking you faster with his fingers.
You moan loudly, too loudly, and his other hand moves from your neck to clamp down on your mouth, smothering your sounds. You grind against him. The only sounds are your muffled cries and the soft groaning behind you as he feels your walls start to clench around his fingers.
“ s’ okay sweetheart. Cum on daddy’s fingers.” Oh fuck.
Your hips thrust into his hand at his words and you come hard against his hand. Your walls flutter and cling to him. He groans at sensation of your orgasm around his fingers. You moan into the hand clamped on your mouth and your legs twitch and kick out.
“Fuck sweetheart. That’s it.” He continues to rub little circles over your clit as your come down from your high.
Your chest is heaving and he releases his hold so you can catch your breath. He gently caresses your cheek before moving his arm back to underneath his head. It’s a gentle touch that confuses you. You lay in silence, your breathing beginning to even out. His hand rests just under your waist band, warmth against warmth. He shifts and it’s clear he’s settling in for the night, content to stay like this as he falls asleep.  
“Joel?” you whisper.
“Hmmmm,” he hums sleepily in response.
“What did you say to my brother earlier? How did you get him to smile?”
“Told him a dad joke.”
“A dad joke?” Not what you were expecting. You pause, then quietly whisper, “Are you a dad?”
“I was.”
You say nothing. You know what that means. You fall asleep in silence with Joel wrapped around you.
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