#but they look so pretty��🤭 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bastardmandennis · 8 months

Text

r u mine? (neighbor!joel x fem!reader)

Summary: Three weeks after your car breaks down in front of Joel’s house, you still haven’t heard from him. You decide to take matters into your own hands at a neighborhood party.

Warnings: SMUT! (you’ve been warned), age gap (reader is mid-20s, Joel is late 30s), no y/n or physical description of reader, takes place in 1997 bc i said so (no outbreak!), more plot (sorry), oral (f receiving), slight blue balling (srry). MISCOMMUNICATION ‼️, jealous joel, slight omc/reader (for like 0.5 seconds just trust me). one (1) singular dad joke, mentions of sarah’s mom, sarah, and tommy. i think that’s it but pls let me know if i missed something!

WC: 4.4k (🫣)

A/N: we’re back baby!! neighbor joel is here again. u don’t necessarily need to read the first part to understand, but it will add some context. title is from the arctic monkeys song of the same name bc i still think it’s 2014. posting this on my lunch break (woops) so apologies if there’s any weird formatting issues! thank you for reading xo

He looks pissed, just like he did on the porch. Brows furrowed, a scowl pulling at his features. He’s ditched the flannel today, opting for a short sleeve t-shirt that stretches across his chest and his usual dark jeans. He looks good, like he always does. Until he opens his mouth and ruins it. He just his chin out at the backyard. “That your new boy toy?” “Seriously, Joel?” The nerve of this fucking guy. “He’s…a friend.” “Yeah?” he asks. Moves closer until he’s boxing you in against the counter, fingers toying with the hem of your dress. “You wear pretty dresses like this for all your friends, sweetheart?”

Three weeks.

It’s been three weeks since your car broke down. Three weeks since your little incident with Joel Miller, as you’re calling it. And while your car has been fixed and is finally running smoothly, you can’t say the same for your…whatever is going on with Joel.

You’ve seen him plenty since then, sure. He’s a constant presence around the neighborhood–taking Sarah around the cul-de-sac so she can ride her bike after dinner, helping the old man down the road trim his bushes, sitting on his front porch until long after the sun sets with his guitar in one hand and a beer in the other. You can’t escape him, but he hasn’t reached out once since then. Nothing but radio silence.

It’s not like he didn’t know how to get in contact with you–you’re three houses away from each other, for fuck’s sake. And you’d exchanged phone numbers before you left, he’d given you a lingering kiss goodbye, walked you to the door, watched you stumble back to your house. Your stomach was in knots the next day, waiting to see if he’d call, imagining what you’d say—Hey Joel, I had a real good time, will you let me come over again and suck your dick? Ugh, no–too much. As the days passed and you didn’t hear anything, the knot of anticipation slowly turned to anxiety, then anger.

A one and done, huh? Whatever, not like you were expecting to gain a steady boyfriend out of it but–he could’ve at least had the decency to let you down easy, instead of just ignoring you. Who even does that? And you know he saw you too, felt his eyes linger on you as you walked the dog around the neighborhood. When you stopped to chat with Mary, the woman who lived in the house between yours and Joel’s, there he was outside unloading tools from the truck. When your friend Luke dropped you off after a party one night, depositing you on your porch with a kiss on the cheek, you could see Joel watching the whole thing from his porch. You’d finally looked over and waved politely, neighborly, and felt a smug little thrill as his jaw clenched and he’d stalked inside.

So that was that.

And you couldn’t call him, of course–or rather, call him again. You did try to call him one night after dinner, bringing the cordless phone into your room and quickly shutting the door so your parents wouldn’t hear. Your hands shook as you dialed the number you’d memorized by now, holding your breath as it rang and rang and rang until finally, someone answered.

But it wasn’t Joel.

No, it was a woman who answered Joel’s phone. You could hear the smile in her voice as she said, “Hello, Miller residence–stop it, Joel!” More laughter in the background, like she was holding the phone away from her face. Well. Definitely the right number, then. You considered hanging up and decided fuck it, gripping the phone even tighter against your ear.

“Is, um. Is Joel there?”

The woman sounded distracted. “Huh? Yeah, he’s right here–take the phone Joel, Jesus.” Her shrill giggles echoed as he scrambled for the phone.

“Hello?” His voice was light, airy. You’d never heard him sound so…happy. Heart pounding, you’d hung up before he could say anything else. If he could move on that quickly, well, so would you.

Easier said than done.

Your friend Kelli had been dying to hook you up with her brother’s roommate, but you’d always been hesitant, not really looking for anything serious. With Joel though, it felt…different. Or so you’d thought. Right after hanging up on him and that woman, you took a deep breath, dialing Kelli’s number with steady hands and hoping she was home. When she answered and you told her okay, set us up–her excited screech was so loud you had to pull the phone back from your ear, trying to shush her before she woke up the whole damn neighborhood.

He wasn’t a bad guy, Kelli’s brother’s roommate. His name is Ben, he drives a nice car, has a steady job. He’s tall (not as tall as Joel), and more lean where Joel was broad, but he was nice, bringing you flowers on your first date to the carnival. Holding your hand as you walked around, proud to show you off, to be with you—unlike some people. He even opened the car door for you, walked you up to the door at the end of the night. There wasn’t a single thing wrong with him, but–

You were bored. He wasn’t Joel.

And now, three weeks post-Joel, you’re starting to get antsy. Ben had been nothing more than a perfect gentleman the whole time, working up the nerve to stutter out can i kiss you so shyly that you’d finally had to pull him in and do it yourself. It was a fine kiss, a little sloppy, but it didn’t light you up the way Joel’s kisses did. You missed the scratch of his stubble–Ben kept his facial hair nonexistent. His hands were smooth and fumbling where Joel’s were calloused, so sure of himself.

Even your parents, who never commented on any of the guys you’d dated before, couldn’t stop raving about what a nice boy Ben was, how they hoped this one stuck. You’d rolled your eyes at their lack of subtlety and steered the conversation to something else–your family’s barbecue planned for that weekend. You listen to your parents drone on about the guest list, assuming it’s all the same people as always, until your dad mentions that he invited the Millers.

That gets your attention. “You invited Joel?” you ask, casually, but your dad just looks at you like you’re nuts.

“Yeah,” he says, teasing you. “A neighborhood party usually involves the neighbors.”

You roll your eyes. Your mom perks up at the mention of Joel.

“He just called to RSVP today–asked if it was okay to bring a plus one. ’Course I said yes, about time he found someone to settle down with.”

Bile rises in your throat and you excuse yourself from the table. So he does know your phone number. And now he’s going to bring that woman, here, to your house? What the fuck?

You try to hide the anger in your voice as you call Ben later that night, inviting him to the party. In an ironic twist, you’d kind of been ignoring him since your date a few days ago. But he’s enthusiastic, of course, asks if he can bring anything to help out.

“Nope,” you say. “Just bring yourself, that’s all I need.”

The next day you’re outside, putting the finishing touches on the folding tables with your mom as your dad heats up the grill. It’s a beautiful spring day, warm and dry and perfect for wearing the new sundress you’d gotten at the mall. The doorbell rings just as you finish changing and throwing a coat of lipgloss on, and then it’s a constant stream of go go go.

You try to make conversation with everyone who stops you—yes it’s nice to be back, no im not looking for jobs yet, yes i’m going back to school, no i’m not sure if i’ll be staying in texas this time. If you’re not defending your life choices to random neighbors, you’re running back and forth from the kitchen to the yard, bringing drinks and paper plates and making sure everyone looks like they’re having a good time. It’s exhausting, trying to be a good hostess and keep an eye out for Joel and his plus one at the same time.

Of course he shows up right when you’re busy refilling the cooler with beers and cans of coke—you know it’s him from the way your dad’s booming laugh echoes through the hallway, can hear the slap of palms on shoulders as they greet each other. He calls your name and you move slowly towards the front door, subtly trying to smooth your hair and paste a smile on your face.

“Joel’s here,” your dad says. No duh. “And he brought company.”

Peering behind Joel’s legs is Sarah, who gives you a tiny wave. And behind him is…a man, just as tall as Joel and almost as handsome–this must be his plus one, not the mystery woman from the phone. You want to cry in relief, do a victory lap around the yard. Joel’s face is curiously neutral as he looks at you, but the other man’s face pulls into a crooked smile, sticking his hand out in greeting. You grasp it weakly and he pulls your hand up to his lips instead, kissing the back of your hand lightly. You can feel Joel’s eyes burning into the side of your face, hear his little irritated huff, but you ignore him, laughing at the stranger and trying to stop the blush spreading across your cheeks.

“Tommy,” he says, smile lighting up his face. He’s cute, in a boyishly charming way. “Joel’s brother. He’s told me a lot about you.”

“Oh,” you breathe, unsure what to say to that. There’s a brief pause where you glance at Joel, who’s trying not to look at you, and Tommy, whose eyes are lingering on the short hem of your dress, and your dad, blissfully unaware of the tension, claps a hand on Joel’s back and ushers them all inside, leaving you alone in the hallway.

No one notices when you slip away to the powder room, splashing cold water on your face and staring at yourself in the mirror. You look flustered, splotches forming on your chest and the tops of your cheekbones. Get a grip, you tell yourself. The doorbell rings again and you run to get it, hoping to avoid another interaction with Joel outside.

Standing on the porch steps is Ben, neatly dressed and holding a bouquet of sunflowers out to you. It should make you swoon, how sweet he is, but all you can think is how out of place he looks here. How he’s not Joel.

“Hey,” he says. Places a kiss on your cheek as he brushes past you into the house. “Thank you for inviting me–I’m happy you finally called.”

“Yeah, of course,” you mumble. “You can just go,” you point outside to the rest of the guests. “I’m gonna put these in a vase first.”

You hurry to the kitchen, digging a crystal vase out from under the sink and filling it with water. There’s so many people outside, mingling and laughing and just having a good time–at least you don’t have to worry about being a good hostess anymore. Or Joel’s mystery woman. You don’t notice the water start to overflow until a hand reaches in front of you and turns the faucet off. You turn quickly and almost bump into Joel, his hand still outstretched next to you as he grips the knob.

He juts his chin out at the backyard. “That your new boy toy?”

“Seriously, Joel?” The nerve of this fucking guy. “He’s…a friend.”

“Yeah?” he asks. Moves closer until he’s boxing you in against the counter, fingers toying with the hem of your dress. “You wear pretty dresses like this for all your friends, sweetheart?”

You almost melt at his words, the deep rumble of his voice, the maddening back and forth path of his fingers across your thigh, but then you remember you still don’t know who the woman on the phone was and freeze. You push him back and he goes willingly, watching silently as your breath leaves you in a huff.

“Not that it’s your business, but no. I didn’t wear this for anyone.” Your voice is way too breathy to be convincing. And the fact that you can’t stop staring at his lips, the scruff of his beard, probably isn’t helping.

“Mmm,” he hums, thoughtful. “That’s where you’re wrong. Everythin’ you do is my business.”

With that he grabs a can of beer from the counter and slams the screen door behind him. His words replay over and over in your head as you finally leave the kitchen, stopping to talk to even more people as you look for Ben. He’s deep in conversation with your mom when you finally find him, pulling you close into a side hug. You can feel Joel’s eyes practically burning a hole in the back of your skull as he watches Ben lean down and press a kiss to the side of your head.

You feel sick, suddenly, like you can’t breathe. It’s too much, Ben here and Joel and his stupid words and his stupid smirk and everything.

You slink away to the bathroom upstairs where you know no one will go. It’s quiet as you sink to the floor, trying to calm your breathing and force the tears back. You almost miss the light knock on the door.

“Someone’s in here, go downstairs,” you say hoarsely.

“It’s me.” Joel. Your anger propels you off the floor to yank open the door.

“What do you want?”

His eyes widen at the venom in your voice. “Just…came to check on ya. Saw you come up here.”

“I’m fine, Joel.” You’re suddenly exhausted, the stress of party planning, hostessing, dealing with this mess…it’s all starting to catch up with you. You turn away from him, moving to stand on the opposite wall. He looks at you for a moment before stepping into the bathroom with you, shutting the door firmly behind him.

“Go away.”

“No,” he says firmly. “’M not leavin’ til you tell me why you’re mad. Did you…did you not have a good time, you know? Cuz I thought, I dunno–”

You stare at him. “Are you serious right now? You never called me, what–what was I supposed to think, especially after hearing another woman answer your phone, I figured–” you huff out a breath and blink the tears away. “I figured you were done with me.”

His face scrunches in confusion and then something finally seems to click. “You’re talkin’ about Sherri…that was you hangin’ up on me?”

“Sherri,” you say. You can’t hide the bitterness from your voice. “That's my replacement?”

And Joel fucking–he laughs. A short little chuckle that has your eyes snapping up to meet his. You glare at him and he quickly stops, dimple slowly fading from his cheek.

“No, sweet girl, ’course not. Just Sarah’s mom, she stays for dinner sometimes when she drops Sarah off. That’s all, promise.”

Well that’s embarrassing—all this worrying and wondering for literally nothing. You tilt your head back and groan, stupid stupid stupid, until you feel Joel reach out and grab your chin, forcing you to look at him. His eyes are wide, searching your face for something.

“I thought you didn’t want me,” you whisper. He pulls you closer until you can feel the steady beat of his heart through his shirt. Kisses the stray tear rolling down your cheek.

“Never get tired of you,” he murmurs. “I thought you didn’t want my…baggage. Wouldn’t blame you if you wanted somethin’ less complicated. Like your boy downstairs.”

You roll your eyes, breathing in the smell of laundry detergent and sweat and Joel. “Only brought him to make you mad, so you’d notice me again.”

“How could I not notice you, lookin’ like that?” he says. Rubs his hand along the hem of you dress, dipping briefly to feel the skin underneath. “So pretty, all dolled up for me.”

“Joel,” you mumble. “Can you–can you kiss me?”

And he does, gently at first, wiping away the occasional stray tear from your cheek. But then you tilt your head, scratch your nails lightly on the side of his neck and he groans into your mouth. You press yourself impossibly closer and he deepens the kiss, running his tongue along your lips until you open for him. He shoves a thigh between your legs and you gasp at the feeling of hard muscle pressed just right against your throbbing clit.

“What do you want, darlin’? Gotta use your words, tell me.” his hands never stop moving over your body, bunching up the back of your dress as he grinds himself against you. “This all for me, or that boy downstairs?”

You hide a smile in the side of his neck. Regular Joel is hot as it is, but something about Joel being jealous, thinking about you–it’s intoxicating. You can’t help but push his buttons just a little more.

“I dunno.” You act like you’re thinking real hard about it. “Maybe I should go down and–fuck.”

He bites the side of your collarbone, hard, leaving a bright mark that just barely peeks out under the strap of your dress. Spins you around so your back is against the door, and all you can do is watch helplessly as he kneels down, runs his hands up the back of your legs to rest just under the crease where your thighs meet your ass.

“Think you’re so funny, huh?” he grumbles. “Only one goin’ down here is me.”

You groan at his stupid joke, but you can’t be too annoyed–not when you’ve finally got him here in front of you right where you want him, on his knees, looking up at you with those big dark eyes. His hair is a mess, and when he nips your inner thigh you grab the back of his head with a whine.

“Joel, please,” you pant. You shift to try and get his head closer but he just smiles like you have all the time in the world, pushing the edge of your dress up and leaving tiny burning kisses against your bare skin as he goes.

He stops when he finally notices your underwear, a lacy pair you’d thrown on earlier and forgotten about. His fingers bite harshly into your thigh and you whine again.

“And who are these for?” he asks lowly. “Your boyfriend?”

“Not my, ngh, he’s not my boyfriend,” you whimper. He snaps the waistband against your skin and hums, staring at the growing wet spot on the front. Then he slowly slides them off your hips and down to your feet, rubbing the lace between his fingers before shoving them in his pocket.

“Think they’re for me now,” he says. “Think you’re for me.” You groan and the back of your head hits the door with a heavy thunk.

“Come on, please touch me. Please,” you try to tug his head back up but he takes his time, scruff dragging up the inside of your thighs with each tiny kiss he presses. It’s maddening, too much and not enough at the same time. You feel greedy–you want more, everything he’ll give you.

“I am touchin’ you, last I checked.”

His fingers rub the crease of your hip, taking his sweet time moving his mouth lower and lower, and right as he’s about to finally move–

A knock on the door startles you, and he moves back quickly to avoid a knee to the face.

“Hello?” a voice calls. “You in here?”

Shit, it’s Ben. You consider not answering, but then Joel leans forward with a wicked glint in his eye and presses his tongue against your clit, dragging it back and forth lightly. You can’t help the tiny groan that escapes you, and vaguely you hear Ben call your name.

He rattles the doorknob. “Babe? Everything okay?”

“Ye-ah,” you manage. Joel doesn’t stop licking, cleaning the obscene amount of slick that drips down the side of your thighs. His grip tightens on your legs, pulling you even closer to drape your leg on his shoulder. You bite your bottom lip so hard you almost break the skin.

“Just–sick,” you finally say. “Not feeling good.”

Joel’s eyes flash to yours. He’s so close you can feel the smirk pull at his lips, watching as he leans back and whispers mockingly, not feelin’ good, huh? His thumb comes up to roll gently over your clit, then harder when you whimper. Your legs feel like jelly, leaning heavily against the door as he brings you closer and closer to the edge with his tongue and fingers.

Ben is saying something but you can barely hear him over your own harsh breaths, the tiny groans Joel is letting out as he works two fingers in and out of your dripping pussy. All you can say is yes Joel, please, Joel, Joel, Joel. It’s so good and too much and you pull his hair in warning but he ignores you, doubling down until you snap, grinding against his face and letting out a long moan as you finally come.

It’s silent for a moment and then you hear:

“I’m just gonna–I’ll see you downstairs.”

Oh god. Joel has a smug grin on his face and you yank him up by the hair.

“Seriously?” you hiss.

“Didn’t hear you complainin’.” He drops your leg with a thump and cages you against the door again. His lips trace a random pattern up your neck.

“You’re such a dick,” you say, laughing. He pulls you in for another kiss, letting you taste yourself on his tongue, in his mustache. You’re just reaching for the button of his jeans when you hear the rise of voices outside, someone calling for Joel.

“Ignore it,” he grunts, snapping his hips into your hand.

Then your dad’s voice floats in through the open window, calling out for you and then, a few seconds later, for Joel. Shit. You’ve been up here too long, and if Ben told anyone–it’s not like you’re doing anything wrong here, you and Joel are both adults, but you do feel a pang of guilt when you think of how sweet Ben had been, and how you’ve basically been using him. Oops.

You straighten your fallen dress straps, smoothing your hair down to try to look at least somewhat presentable. You feel fucked out, shaky and breathless and the mark Joel left on you is practically screaming yeah, i just fucked my hot older neighbor in the bathroom. Joel doesn’t look much better, ruddy cheeks and the stretched out collar of his t-shirt revealing a matching mark on his neck.

“I’m gonna…think I need to talk to Ben,” you mumble. His eyes darken, jaw clenching but he lets you go with one last kiss.

“Talk to you later?” he asks, and you nod, slipping out of the bathroom with a sigh.

The party is still in full swing when you make your way to the backyard. Ben’s standing next to the grill with your dad and you wander over there slowly, trying to figure out what to say.

“Feeling better?” he asks. He looks genuinely concerned so maybe–maybe he didn’t know what just happened. You’re not sure if that makes you feel better or worse. Out of the corner of your eye you see Joel slip outside, making a beeline for Tommy and Sarah.

“Yeah sorry, just an upset stomach,” you say. You can’t take your eyes off Joel, the way he stalks through the crowd. The bulge in his pocket you know isn’t just your stolen underwear. He says something to your mom at the door, and then he’s gone, Tommy and Sarah trailing after him like little ducklings.

“We really need to talk,” you blurt. Ben seems confused but agrees, and you walk him out to his car. The sun is just barely setting and you shiver at the sudden cool breeze. From the end of your driveway you can see Joel sitting on the porch, a bottle of beer next to him. He’s not even trying to be subtle, the way he’s staring at you.

“I don’t…listen, you’re really nice and all but I don’t,” you heave a breath and stare up at the sky, resisting the urge to look over at Joel. Is he still looking over here? “I don’t think I’m ready to date, and I don’t want you to get the wrong idea…I’m really sorry.”

Ben gives you a small smile. “I figured,” he says. Nods his head to Joel, who’s glaring at the two of you. “He, uh, kinda gave me the third degree earlier.”

You feel your face heat up and he laughs. “I don’t know why he did that, I mean, I didn’t tell him to–”

“It’s okay,” he says gently. “No hard feelings, really.” He gives you a quick hug and then he’s gone, throwing a wave out the window as he drives away.

Well that could’ve gone a lot worse. You scuff your feet on the ground, not really wanting to go back to the party, to answer everyone’s questions about where Ben went. So you don’t, letting your feet drag you to Joel’s porch, where he’s sipping a beer and pretending not to watch you.

“Hey,” you finally say. Hey? That’s the best you can come up with, really? You can’t read the expression on his face–he looks the same as he always does, frowning slightly like he’s just waiting for someone to piss him off.

“Tommy was askin’ about you, before he left,” is all he says. He scuffs a boot against the floor and doesn’t meet your eyes.

“O-kay…” you say, slowly. Tommy hadn’t even been on your radar–all you could think about was Joel. “I’m sure he’s nice, but I don’t want Tommy.”

“Yeah? What do you want?”

Is he for real right now? “You, Joel. God, I-I don’t want Ben, and I definitely don’t want Tommy.” You step even closer, standing in between his spread legs as he looks up at you with a frown.

“I don’t let just anyone take my underwear. Or fuck me in a bathroom.”

That gets him, lips twitching up in a smile. His arms snake around to hold the back of your legs. You rake your fingers through his hair, his beard. It’s quiet, the low buzz of cicadas drowning out the lingering party chatter.

“Okay,” he whispers. “If you want this, I’m…I’m in.”

“Duh,” you say. He rolls his eyes. “You’re stuck with me now.”

And that’s how you spend the rest of the night, sitting next to Joel on his porch, talking about everything under the sun. His hand grazes yours occasionally and you can’t stop the smile from spreading across your face.

Maybe this could be your reason to stay in town a little longer.

masterlist here

#joel miller fic #joel miller smut #tlou fic #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfic #the last of us #the last of us fic #joel miller x you #joel miller au #joel miller #lexi writes things #*runs and hides*#he looks so pretty in that gif i had to add it 🤭#idk why the preview text looks like that but im too tired to fix it rn #ok back to work bye

239 notes · View notes