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auteurdelabre · 2 days

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PLEASE MISTER MILLER SEQUEL PART 7 - BFD!Joel x f!Reader

rating: 18+ (MAJOR FILTH IN THIS ONE)

pairings: Your Best Friends Dad Joel x f!Reader

warnings: FILTH, age gap, divorce, domestic bliss, public-ish sex, oral (m and f receiving), unprotected sex, p in v sex, all the sex and all the fluff, slightly possessive Joel, love love love.

a/n: Y'all I had major writers block with this one. Took me a bit but I think I got us there. One more chapter after this to go and I'm unsure of how to end it. . . Dunno what these two idiots deserve.

masterlist here

There's something strange about entering into Joel's home after all these months that makes your heart pound. Joel carries your bags for you, chatting animatedly that the place might look different. His voice fades into the back of your mind as you look around. It all feels so surreal to be back in this house. Bizarre to see how Joel has made the place more his own in the short time since his separation.

For one thing the frames that contained photos of Tess are gone. The only ones that remain are of him and Sarah smiling toothily at the camera. Its clear Tess has not been in the picture for some time, despite her last ditch effort to connect.

A bunch of the furniture seems new as well. The sofa he fucked you on last Christmas has been replaced by a smaller, more streamlined looking leather piece and most of the knick knacks and colorful items from the rooms have been removed. The TV is propped up on a plastic stand that looks garish amongst the more subdued and tasteful décor.

The place is definitely a bachelor pad.

The bedroom has been painted not green, but a gentle blue and that makes your heart clench tightly. The bed is new, has grey sheets and plush looking pillows. A stationary bike is in the corner. The dresser is adorned with coins, old receipts, CD’s, pencils and a variety of other things one would normally find in a carpenter’s pockets. No longer in wicker baskets or small decorative dishes.

“Now you don’t have to stay in here,” Joel says seriously, his hand still on your suitcase handle as you glance around his bedroom. “We can set you up in the guest room like before no problem. That way you’ll still have your own space.”

You frown at him. “You want me in the guest room?”

“Doesn’t matter what I want.”

“Joel.”

He sighs softly. “No, I don’t, not really.”

“So I can stay in here with you?”

“Only if you wa-“

You stop his rambling with a kiss before taking the handle from him and rolling it to the far side of the room.

“Can I put my stuff in the closet? Or dresser?”

“Both.”

You start to unpack and Joel watches this with a soft little smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Dinner is pizza sat on the glass coffee table, watching a movie you two could agree on. You spend most of it sneaking glances at Joel’s profile from the corner of your eye. You find yourself completely taken with everything about him – how his salt and pepper curls fall into his forehead, how his jaw clenches when he chews his pizza, how he huffs through his nose when he’s amused at something in the movie.

You’re pathetically in love with him.

Hours later the two of you collapse onto the bed side by side, too tired from the day’s travel to do anything other than sleep. Despite this, Joel takes great pleasure in watching you shimmy out of your jeans and shirt, pulling on your nightdress and climbing back into bed with him.

“Goodnight baby,” he murmurs as he pulls you into his arms, tucking you there underneath his chin after a soft kiss. “M’so glad you’re here.”

///

You've woken up next to Joel several times in hotel beds, but never his own. So when the sun lazily makes its way into the bedroom that first morning and you blink awake, you're almost startled to see him sleeping there next to you. You take in the grey of his bed sheets, the way his mouth parts slightly in his sleep, the way his hair is tousled from sleep and you feel your heart swell.

"Morning, honey," you whisper. "You wanna get coffee?"

"Nuh uh," he mutters, eyes still closed. An arm slides over your waist, pulling you against him. "Want you."

Fucking in Joel's bed is just as delicious a fucking him in your dorm at college. Only now you don't have to rush or panic. You can just enjoy the way his skin looks in the morning sun as he buries his mouth between your legs with your thighs at his ears, his hands gripping your ass so he can devour you properly.

"Right there!" You cry out, body arching for him. "M’so close, I just-"

You come with a shuddering cry, piercing the peaceful quiet of the bedroom. Joel grins, mouth glistening with your arousal. He climbs up the length of your body, mouth ravishing yours before he urges you onto your belly. His body is heavy over yours, his mouth rasping against your ear.

“My turn.”

Joel gathers your hair into a ponytail, wrapping it around his palm and tugging you onto all fours for him. You give a soft whimper, delighted at the tugging sensation on your scalp. Joel grins, tugging you gently again by the hair as his free hand grips your thigh, urging you to arch ass in the air for him.

He sinks into you slowly, but when you whimper at the sensation and arch further the angle of your shifting hips allows his stroke to drive deeper. Already turned on out of his mind, Joel begins to thrust deep and fast, causing your eyes to roll back as you groan.

"You like that?" Joel grunts, his hips snapping against your ass.

"Uh huh."

He continues on like this with his hand wrapped in your hair, tugging you gently as he fucks into you. He checks in with you every once in a while, a soft kiss to your shoulder and a husky ‘you still okay?’ before he continues with you groaning your desire for him to go harder and deeper.

He pounds into you with intensity, the rhythm of his fingers on your clit staying steady.You come with a shuddering cry, head lolled forward and Joel’s cock sawing in and out of you, his fingers dancing on your clit.

“Whose girl are you?”

“Yours,” you groan, flesh rippling as his hips slap against your ass in a frenzy.

"That's right," Joel growls before he nips at your earlobe. "Now prove it and soak my cock."

You cry out his name before thrusting yourself back against his cock.

“That’s it, that’s it,” he coos as you come down.

You hear his ragged grunts as you climax but notice that he begins to slow, his cock slowly dragging and plunging before tapering off. You look over your shoulder at him, your cheeks flushed. Joel is looking down at you with a strange look on his face.

"What's wrong, baby?"

"Was thinking of tryin' somethin'," he murmurs, dark eyes sliding over your naked body as he gently pulls from you. “You up for somethin’ a lil different?”

"Anything you want," you tell him honestly. And you mean it; Joel can use your body in any way he desires. You trust him absolutely. He’s never given you reason to doubt him. His face lights up almost boyishly as he grins down at you.

"Yeah?"

You nod and he practically leaps off the bed. You grin, taking time to appreciate the sight of his deliciously taut ass twitching as his naked frame pads over to the dresser where he threw his jeans last night.

You watch in quiet fascination as he un-loops the dark brown leather belt from the pair, sliding it around his palm as he looks over at you.

"You've used a belt before," you remind him as he moves towards the bed, hard cock bobbing as you think of how he used a belt to bind your wrists once.

"Not like this," Joel slides his tongue into his opposite cheek as he crawls back onto the bed behind you. His large palm slides over the curve of your ass, gripping a moment. You can feel his eyes on your naked body, heavy and hot.

"You trust me?"

"Yes."

There's no hesitation, no balking. You simply rest there on your hands and knees, waiting.

You feel Joel continue to watch you, no doubt observing the gathering slick of your cunt and the shine of it on your inner thighs. His hot and heavy breath is there at your ass, giving you a sharp nip on your left cheek that has you yelp and him chuckle. His warm hand soothes the sting immediately.

"So gorgeous," Joel murmurs as he kisses his way up your naked spine. You bow, wanting him to press his lips to every vertebra, to tattoo your body with his tongue and mouth. You feel him behind you, the warmth of his body curling over you as his mouth drags over your shoulder blade, slow and sensual.

"You’re so fuckin’ good for me, you know that?"

His mouth is at your jaw as he asks this and by answer you tilt your head to capture his lips against yours. He makes a low noise, his hand going to curve around your throat, holding you there so that he can kiss you at his leisure, sucking your tongue into his mouth as your cunt weeps.

“Keep bein’ good, yeah?”

You feel him circle the leather around your waist, the sensation drawing a soft gasp from you. His eyes drift to your wait as he tightens the belt before notching it. It’s almost as if he expects you to wear it, only he keeps the tail end of it firmly gripped in his palm.

"Tell me if it's too tight."

"S'not," you purr, finding the sensation of leather biting into your hips and belly to be a turn on more than anything.

He tugs gently, urging you back towards him before giving the belt some slack. His free hand is at your ass again, rubbing sweet circles over the mark he’s left. You feel him on his knees, bending back to look at you.

"Show me what's mine, baby."

You sigh contentedly, forcing your legs apart further, ass in the air, your face resting on the mattress. You know from where he kneels behind you be can see everything, including your puffy pussy completely drenched.

You whimper slightly at the sound of Joel's groan.

“Yeah, she’s all mine.”

Joel watches your muscles roll and skin prickle in anticipation and he can't stop himself from rubbing his palm up your spine, his fingers tracing where his mouth and tongue have travelled.

You whimper again, cunt twitching as fresh arousal gathers there. Joel swallows a growl and you feel him notch himself at your entrance, guiding the head of his cock against your clit before sinking into your dripping cunt.

“Joel!”

From this angle he feels so big, filling you so well. Your cunt almost stings from how big. When he begins to move you grip onto the bed sheets, body jolting as you let out little mewls of pleasure.

"So fuckin' good," Joel groans out between clenched teeth. He pulls out slowly, wanting to see his cock glossy with your slick before he’s sinking between your lips again. He does it again and again, pulling out slowly, admiring how your pussy looks when its empty and then stuffed full of him.

He does this for several moments, working you up and making you cry out his name in broken little whispers.

“Please, Joel.”

"I made you come twice already," Joel reminds you with a teasing edge to his voice. "Now you’re gonna lay there and let me fuck you full a' my come, pretty girl."

All at once you feel him tug the belt back abruptly, sending you sliding back along his length as he thrusts forward and buries himself to the hilt. He does this over and over until you hear the squelching sounds of him fucking into you. It’s obscene and dirty and you fucking love it.

"You gonna do that?" You hear the smile in his voice as his hips start to pick up the pace. "Gonna let me fuck you full?"

The bite of the leather against your skin mixing with the feel of Joel's hips slapping against your thighs is making you quickly unravel.

"Yes, Joel!" You cry out, not in pain but in pleasure.

You surrender to his thrusts, sliding back as he pushes forward, using the belt to keep you at the perfect fucking distance. You hear his panting and the sound of your sweaty bodies smacking against one another.

"What a bad fuckin' girl," Joel taunts as his hips slap your ass over and over at increasingly quicker intervals. "Came twice and she's so cock drunk she's gonna gimme another one."

"N-no Joel," you manage. "Gonna make you come."

"Don't think you can," Joel rasps with a husky chuckle. "Think my bad girl needs to soak my cock again."

You cry out at the sensation of his length hitting you so deep. But the burning desire to do good, to pleasure him overrides this.

"Wanna make you come, Joel. M'not a bad girl," you tell him almost petulantly as you move up the bed with a particularly aggressive thrust from Joel.

"Oh no?" he grinds himself against your ass, tugging the belt again. "Show me how good you can be."

You slide yourself back against the length of him, smiling into the pillow when you hear his shaky inhale. You do it again, slowly welcoming him deep before sliding off, the tip teasing your entrance before you feel the tug of his belt, forcing you back.

"Uh huh that's my good girl," Joel pants, surprising you by landing a quick slap to your ass with his free hand. "Yeah, that's it. Fuck yourself on it for me."

Your ass bounces as you bow your back for him, desperate for him to take what he wants. You urge him deeper, moaning as his hand gives you another swat on the other cheek.

"Deeper," you beg him, not just to make him feel good but because you're so fucking close.

"You’re so goddam good," he tells you as he buries himself, sawing in and out of your slippery cunt. He tugs the belt, pulling you back along his cock over and over. You cry out loud from the dual sensations of Joel's cock and the leather belt.

You feel as a few of his fingers slide under the waist of the belt, holding you more firmly in place as he begins to jackhammer his cock into your slot deeper than ever. It makes your whimpers come out in little huffs, your body shaking with each plunge of him between your thighs.

"Take... It.... Just... Like .. That." Each word is barked out with a pump of his cock into your cunt. "Good ... Girl."

You give out sharp little grunts with every thrust of him from behind you, your hands fisting in the sheets as your eyes roll back. He holds you firmly by the belt, head tilted back as his cock kisses your cervix.

"Stay right there," he pants, hips rolling aggressively now. "N'make me feel good."

"Yes," you promise, breasts shaking as he fucks harder and deeper into you. His hips slap loudly in against your ass, his cock so thick and so soaked as he slides between your swollen folds. You keen as his cock forces itself deeper and he starts grunting louder, punched out with each thrust.

“Fuck, fuck I love yo-“

He can't finish the sentence. He's coming hard, pulsing into you as he grips your body, his lips pressed to your cheek, gasping as he thrusts. Your arm goes to bend around his neck, your flesh jolting as he uses you to finish. You smile through your mutual panting, finding his mouth as you tilt your head.

“I love you too, Joel.”

///

You wake up the first few days after staying with Joel with a coiled tension in your body.

There is a small part of you that is terrified that this is all going too good. That perhaps now that you know Joel is getting divorced and the forbidden aspect of the relationship is over that it will dampen your ardor for him. That his biggest fears he had about you will come true.

But they don’t.

If anything your capacity for loving him grows. Doing crosswords together over coffee in the morning, going for walks hand-in-hand in the park near his house. Laughing over something stupid on the TV, playing cards late into the night.

He tells you he loves you every morning and every night. He holds you in his arms when you drift off to sleep. You feel a safety and a contentment you’ve never experienced before. Always waiting for the shoe to drop, but it never does.

And of course there’s the fucking everywhere, almost as if Joel has a personal mission to make sure you come in every single room. You don’t mind at all. In fact you encourage it one morning by bringing out the snowflake skirt from Christmas that you packed at the bottom of your bag, giggling in your dorm.

You put it on over a tight white tank top and bend over in front of him to grab the milk from the fridge, giving a soft “morning baby.” You can feel his sleepy gaze from beside the coffee maker and you arch slightly, pretending to not see what you’re looking for. You’re just starting to wonder if he’s noticed you’re not wearing panties when you hear him fall to his knees behind you, turning you around and fucking you with his tongue.

Seems Joel isn’t bored either.

///

Bitch I miss u! [sadface.jpg]

Sarah attaches a sad-looking selfie to the text that makes you giggle. Your time in Austin is limited, only two weeks remain before you head back home, so you have to think to the future even if that’s the last thing you want to do.

I miss you more! How is Chile?

I love it! We went stargazing in the Atacama Desert last night! [desert.jpg]

Holy shit you look so hot!

(EMOJI) Must be all the Chilean sunshine. You should be out here enjoying with your guy.

You feel your throat tighten. You can’t tell her that things are going well with your ‘guy’. She’ll want a photo. And you know she’ll recognize her own fucking house in the background no matter where you stand. Same goes for any coffee shops or local hot spots. So you try to change the topic.

How's Charlie?

Not so good. He just got an email about the job he applied for. He didn't get it so he'll jobless in September. We’re both pretty upset.

I'm so sorry.

You frown at your phone, reading your text from Sarah. She seems pretty down about the whole Charlie thing. Sarah’s always been a planner, so you know that changes like this can really set her off. She and Charlie had planned on San Diego for their next steps and it had seemed like Charlie was a shoo in. Sarah was already talking about the cute apartment they were gonna get after their travels. Your heart breaks for your friend.

It’s okay. I just wanted to say I miss u. Hope ur having fun with your guy since you loooooooooooooove him so much. One day you’re gonna have to send me a photo for approval. Gotta make sure he’s good enough for u.

I promise he is.

The door to the bathroom opens just then and a waft of steam exits, along with the scent of bergamot and whatever else is in Joel’s shampoo. He’s wearing only his boxers and the towel is slung over his shoulder as he rubs at his damp curls.

“Mornin’ baby.”

You watch him go to the dresser and pull on his black Miller Construction t-shirt, biceps bulging.

You lay in bed, gazing up at a freshly showered Joel who looks and smells so fucking sexy your pussy throbs. His broad shoulders ripple under the strained t-shirt fabric as he drags a comb through his wet hair.

“Do you really have to go back to work today?”

It’s been two weeks of just existing in this blissful cocoon of eating and laughing and fucking. You don’t want it to end, but of course life has to intrude.

“F’raid so, baby. I’m the boss and I better show my face before they start likin’ Tommy better.”

“Not possible,” you tell him with a grin.

“But to make up for it, I’m takin’ you out tonight,” he tells you, his dark eyes staring at you in the mirror’s reflection.

“A date?” you’re on your knees now, hands excitedly clasped in your lap. “Where?”

He drops the comb on the dresser, coming to sit next to you on the bed. He grips your chin in his thumb and forefinger, dragging your mouth to his only to stop an inch from your mouth.

“S’a surprise pretty girl.”

“How should I dress?”

“However you want,” he shrugs before kissing you softly. You hold in an eye roll at this. Men just don’t understand fashion.

He prepares to stand but he smells so good and he looks even better. His curls are drying into soft little salt and pepper waves and you need to have him. You pull him back for another kiss, tongue’s dabbing.

“Do you really have to go right now?” you ask with a teasing lilt. Your hand drifts between his legs and you smirk when you see his eyelids flutter.

“Yes,” he says sternly, his hand covering yours.

“Just five minutes,” you urge, hands coming to unbuckle his jeans, drawing down the zipper and sighing when his warm cock comes alive in your palm.

“I-I have to go,” he breathes against your mouth. “I gotta-”

“Just lemme make you come,” you whisper, kissing his jaw. “I wanna make you come, Daddy.”

Joel tries so hard to regain his thoughts but you’ve started stroking and he’s powerless. It isn’t long before he’s driving you into the mattress, hips snapping against yours and moaning your name into your shoulder as he tells you time and time again that he’s late, that he has to go, that… oh fuck you feel amazing.

It’s an hour later when Joel finally rushes out of the house, still pulling down his t-shirt as he starts the truck.

///

You’re sitting on the couch, going through job applications for back home as you wait for Joel to arrive for your date night. You’ve only got a week or so left here in Austin before you have to go back to your depressing life. You need to have a plan, a place to rent. You can’t move back with your awful parents. Parents who haven’t sent you as much as an e-mail since your blow up at graduation.

The doorbell rings, surprising you into dropping your phone. You wait a moment, eyes wide as you stare at the door. Joel has never told you one way or the other if you should answer it. What if it’s Tess? What if it’s a nosy neighbor?

Ding dong.

Fuck it. If it’s a neighbor you’ll tell them you’re a friend of the family. If it’s Tess…well… You don’t know what to do about that.

You straighten your dress, trying to look composed as you sail to the door, opening it a crack and peeking your head around.

Joel stands there on the front porch dressed in a pale blue button down and fresh jeans. He’s smiling widely at you and in his hands he holds a beautiful bouquet of flowers. Some yellow, some pink, but the ones that really call to you are the white sleepy looking ones.

“I’m here to pick you up for our date,” he rumbles, his eyes glittering. His eyes sail over your face and the sundress you’ve chosen. “Fuck you’re a knockout.”

You blush, taking the flowers from him as you open the door widely. “Thank you, they’re stunning.”

“The yellow ones are kerrias and those white ones? They’re called summer snowflakes,” he says as he watches you gazing at them.

“Really?”

“Mhm.”

You press a kiss to his eager mouth, his lips chasing yours when you pull off squealing.

“I’m gonna put them in water!”

You find a tall vase under the sink and arrange the bouquet inside, gazing at them with your cheeks hot. You’ve never been romanced like this. Conrad thought jewelry and expensive dinners were enough. Joel does those things but he does so much more. He remembers little things, he calls you beautiful, he cherishes you.

Joel is still standing by the front door as if this is a real date and you hurriedly rush back, pulling your purse over your shoulder. You take in his button down and jeans again, scrunching your nose in confusion.

“How-“

“Had the clothes in my car,” he tells you with a grin before offering his arm. “Ready to go, beautiful girl?”

///

He takes you to a food truck for dinner, not exactly what you were expecting, but certainly nothing to sneeze at. The streets are busy, lined with tourists all snapping photos, laughing, listening to the street musicians.

“They got the best tacos here,” he informs you as he passes you a carton holding several. “And there’s somewhere I wanted to show you.”

You follow him down the busy main streets of Austin, past the various folks that try to sell you trinkets. You come upon a group of people bustling around one specific site, a painted mural of a piece of toast saying “You’re my” and a dab of butter boating the words “Butter Half”. You grin at it.

“They did these murals all over Austin,” Joel explains as you approach it. “Some’ve been around for decades, some more recent. S’one of my favorite things about Austin. I look at ‘em all the time when I need a walk, or to clear my head. S’better than any art gallery, cheapter too.”

“Are there more?” you ask, taking a bite from your taco.

“Yep.”

As the two of you eat your dinner, Joel takes you through a walking tour of the neighborhood, pointing out the various murals that you pass. Some are funny, some political, some devastating.

Wherever you go people are posing in front of them, flashing peace signs and smiling broadly at phone cameras. An especially popular one is the one on a green background with the red spray painted words: I love you so much. Compared to the rest of the colorful pieces its sweet in its simplicity.

“I like that one,” you muse.

“Me too,” Joel says, kissing your temple and taking your hand. He grabs you an ice cream around the next block, watching as you grapple with not letting it drip down your palm in the summer heat.

You watch Joel’s face turn into a smile as you pass a woman with two children. One in her arms, the other tugging her towards one of the murals. You aren’t blind to the way his eyes get wistful, his mouth tight. You think of your conversation over spring break when he didn’t really answer your question.

"You really want more kids, don’t you?" You offer gently.

"Uh, maybe, yeah," Joel shrugs, almost embarrassed at being caught out. "I mean, I had Sarah when I was nineteen goin' on twenty. Would be nice to be a dad when I'm not scrambling paycheck to paycheck with a wife who's got one foot out the door."

You nod thoughtfully, your tongue coming to take a slow lick of your cone.

"Just so you know, it's not a deal breaker," Joel is quick to explain when you go quiet. "I mean if we... You know… You don’t need to want them."

"But you just said you think you want another kid."

"I want you more."

You feel your heart hiccup at that. You have to turn away so he doesn’t see how your eyes have grown glossy. Sometimes Joel says the perfect, most amazing thing and he doesn’t even realize it.

The subject is dropped for the time being. It feels like too much too soon.

"S'funny I've never been a PDA person," Joel muses as he runs his fingers along your spine as the two of you continue to walk. "But I can't keep my hands off of you."

"Same here,” you admit. “I used to hate it when Conr- when my ex would hold me around the waist when we walked. It felt so… possessive.”

“I’ll make a note of that,” Joel muses with a smirk.

“That’s different,” you say quickly, eyes wide. “I… I wouldn’t mind it if you did it.”

“You like me bein’ a little possessive of you?” Joel murmurs, smirking down at your increasingly red face. You give an airy shrug, hoping it conveys a sense of indifference.

“Maybe.”

His hand wraps around your waist, holding you against him as you keep walking. And it doesn’t feel like possession, it feels like love. Everything Joel does feels like love.

With your ice cream gone but your hand still sticky you come to another mural, this one a black painted wall with writing all over. The closer you get the more you can the details. It’s like the wall of the building has been painted like a huge chalkboard. Stenciled on is the same question over and over ‘Before I die _________”.

You can see there are so many answers in chalk all over it.

Before I die I want to visit Australia.

Before I die I want to see Harry Styles in concert.

Before I die I want to write a book.

“You ever answered this?” you ask as you read more of the various scripts.

Before I die I want to make a change in the world.

Before I die I want to win the lottery.

“Yeah. Once.”

You turn to him when he doesn’t elaborate. He’s got a funny little look on his face, staring at the mural.

“When?”

“Little bit after Christmas,” Joel mutters, almost embarrassed. He tries to keep walking but you hold him steady by the wrist. He looks back over at you, his cheeks stained pink at the cheekbones.

“C’mon, tell me,” you urge with a gentle tap of your hip against his. “No secrets, remember?”

The day is quickly turning to night and Joel’s silhouetted in the golden hour, making him look almost angelic as he stands there. The deliberation is clear in his expression before Joel huffs a soft sigh, his mouth twitching into a crooked smile as he leans forward, his mouth at your ear.

“Before I die, I want to hold Snowflake one more time.”

Your eyes fill with tears as he pulls his face back from yours, his own eyes damp. You know how he must have been feeling last year. The same way you had been, only you’d convinced yourself it was one-sided. A fleeting infatuation.

How wrong you had been.

///

You and Joel haven’t brought up the fact that you have to leave soon. Three days in fact until your unofficial time with him is over. Three days left of kissing and hugging and whispers of fidelity and love are shared. Three days left of fucking him over every imaginable surface.

You want to distract yourself from the oncoming misery so you send him a text with items you’ll need to make him a special dinner. At six promptly the front door to the house opens and Joel comes walking in, weighted down with grocery bags.

“You’re sure you needed all this stuff?”

“Mhm,” you jump up from the couch, padding after him into the kitchen. “I wanted to make something special to celebrate our time together.”

Joel grins over at you, his eyes crinkling in the corners as he drops the bags on the counter. He leans forward and presses a peck to your mouth. You feel his tongue dab against yours and you know exactly what he’s up to.

“Get outta here,” you say pushing him gently and going to stand at the counter. “I gotta start cooking.”

“I just wanna watch,” Joel insists, standing behind you and wrapping his arms around your middle. You want to deny him, but his hands are coming to the hem of your t-shirt, tugging it free from your skirt.

“Joel-“

"Remember when you sucked my cock right there?" Joel groans into your hairline, pressing you into the counter with his hips.

"Yeah," you whimper, feeling his hand curling around your panties and tugging them down over your ass.

"Fuckin’ filthy girl."

“Mhmmm,” you murmur, hand going behind you to slide down his front. His cock is already hard when you squeeze it through his jeans. "Wanted you to fuck me against it."

"We can make that happen," Joel grins against the crown of your head, pulling himself from his jeans. "You want that, baby?"

"Yeah."

"C'mon now," he breathes as he sheaths himself in your dripping pussy. "You be good an' loud for me. You tell me how good it feels."

You do.

Subsequently dinner is late, but delicious.

“Holy shit you could cook all this time?” Joel whistles between bites of cornbread and steak amongst your other homemade items. “You’ve been holdin’ out on me.”

“Maybe I just like your cooking better.”

“Mhm.” Joel gives a roll of his eyes at that.

Despite the both of you being stuffed from dinner and dessert, you still want to fuck him later that night. It feels like urgency as you think of time ticking away, but as you roll towards him in bed Joel doesn’t quite seem himself.

He’s looking at the ceiling, brows scrunched together. It makes you nervous even as you lay curled in his arms.

“What’s going on?”

“Huh?” Joel turns his attention to. “Nothin’ baby.”

You both fall quiet, your fingers twisting in the duvet. Your mind goes home to a house that feels cold and empty. To a bed that won’t have Joel in it. You try not to feel too devastated. You don’t want to ruin what precious time you have left.

You tilt your head, seeing that Joel is staring up at the ceiling again.

You shuffle to balance your chin on his sternum, gazing up at him under sleepy lids. You want to memorize his face, the way his chest falls when he breathes or the sweet, gentle way he’s gazing at you.

"What do you think of stayin' here a bit longer?" Joel whispers, hand coming to rub the hair over your ear.

"In bed?"

"In Austin."

"Like, for the rest of the summer?"

The thought makes your pulse pick up. You are in absolutely no rush to head back home to your parent’s house. In no rush to leave Joel's warm arms and warmer smile.

"Longer 'n that," Joel murmurs. Your brows knit together.

"You said you were plannin' on doing your courses online," Joel explains. "And you were lookin' for a part time job but you didn't have one yet. So why not just do it all here? I know lots of people; I could find you a job easy."

You stare at him a moment as you digest this. Joel is asking you to move in with him. And instead of fear or unease you felt at the thought of doing so with Conrad, your face blooms into a beaming smile.

"You've really been thinking about this," you say both touched and amused by him. You crawl up the length of him, wrapping your arms around him.

He goes quiet, looking embarrassed for a moment before his arms tighten around you, holding you to him as he kisses your neck.

"I'd love to," you answer with a soft peck to his lips.

“Yeah?”

"Yeah,” you grin, blinking back the wet. “I never wanna leave Austin...Or you… Or this bed."

Joel's mouth finds yours, hands pulling you more tightly to him as if his joy can be expressed better physically.

"And if it's too much stress don't worry about the job," Joel assures you between kisses. "I'll take care of you."

"Joel, I'm not gonna sponge off of you," you insist with a frown. "I'm not gonna be a kept woman. I'm gonna get a part-time job while I finish school."

"Well until then I've got a job for you," Joel says with a crooked grin as he pulls your hand over the hardening cock in his sweatpants. "One I know you're more than qualified for."

///

The sunrise feels different in Joel's bed. You can't quite explain it. It's like the colors are more vibrant peeking through his blinds, the warmth more gentle against your skin.

Joel is always wrapped around you, legs twisted, your head buried in his neck, as if even sleeping he never wants to be without you. The serenity of these first moments of consciousness never fails to amaze you.

One morning you can't help but marvel at how beautiful he is when he sleeps. Plush lips parted, eyes softly shut, dark lashes fanning over his cheek. His golden body muscled and warm from slumber.

And he’s yours.

The concept overwhelms you and you find yourself pushing your body from the bed, energy forcing you to the kitchen where you put on a pot of coffee before padding into the living room. The sun hasn’t quite risen over the neighborhood yet.

You sit on the window seat, shoulders loose and your head tilted to the side. Your hands are in your lap, loosely curled against your ankles, the percolating coffee forgotten as you take in the beauty of the morning.

You’ve never had things like this; quiet, peaceful mornings where the day stretches out before you full of sublime joy and possiblity. Always in school or at home with your parents or with Conrad. But with Joel you just exist, not beholden to anyone but yourself.

This is what happiness is.

You hear footsteps pad slowly towards you and you glance up over your shoulder to see a mug of coffee extended in your direction, made just the way you like it. You take it along with the full lipped kiss he gives you. Joel’s eyes are sleepy small and his body is still warm from slumber.

"Watch the sunrise with me," you whisper.

Joel nods before taking a seat next to you with your situating yourself in his lap, leaning back into his chest as the pink of the sky bleeds into blue. You sip your coffee slowly, reveling in the security of Joel's body, the steady rise and fall of his chest, at the way his muscled arms wrap around you like a cloak.

You're both silent as the gold of the morning breaks through, casting everything in that hazy romantic light. You don't even notice the tears until they plop onto your bare leg. Joel must notice too because he cranes his head to peer into your face.

"What's the matter, baby?"

His voice is early morning rumble. You sniffle before gazing up at him with a watery smile.

"I'm just so happy."

///

In early July Austin goes through a heat wave that leaves everywhere absolutely sweltering. It has you and Joel resting on the living room floor, the air conditioner and fans whirring around you. Joel wears nothing but shorts and you nothing but a skimpy pair of cut offs and tank top. But neither of you is feeling amorous.

The heat carries into the rest of the work week leaving Joel sweaty and exhausted when he comes home. The air conditioner is working overtime but the sticky heat lingers. It makes doing much seem impossible. You’ve been stuck inside the last few days, eating cold meals and trying to do as little as possible.

Joel doesn’t always have bad days at work, but when he does you want nothing more than to take the weight from his shoulders. You can tell it’s an especially bad one today because he kicks off his shoes and drops the toolbox at the front door.

“Bad day?”

“Tommy thought it would be great to sign off on tile that we can’t fuckin’ afford on this latest remodel,” Joel all but snaps, collapsing onto the couch with a groan.

“I’m sorry. Can I do anything?”

“Lower the price of fuckin’ tile?”

You don’t say anything to that. Suddenly you feel very small, as if this is somehow your fault. As if you do in fact control the price of tile. You glance around the house and see plates on tables, cups forgotten. You should’ve cleaned today instead of looking at jobs.

"Let’s go for ice cream after dinner," you offer, trying to rouse his spirits. “My treat.”

"S’too hot. It'll melt before we even get a lick in."

"Home Depot?" You suggest, knowing it’s one of Joel’s favorite spots to walk around.

"It'll be crowded and we might see some people I know."

It's a bit of a sore point between you two. Joel hasn't introduced you to anyone and you've made no effort to make him. You enjoy this little cocoon you've created and don't want anything to spoil it. The thing is you have an idea that Joel would like to start introducing you, but Sarah has to know first.

Neither of you is looking forward to that.

“Could make those boozy slush things we saw?”

“Nah,” Joel replies, sweat beading his forehead.

You’re feeling irritable from the heat and unhappy that Joel’s bad day has somehow translated into you feeling shitty.

“Well you’ve shot down all my ideas why don’t you come up with one?”

“I just worked ten hours in the blistering sun. I’m sorry if I’m not in the mood to plan a fuckin’ date,” Joel snaps, sweat beading his forehead. “Maybe if you gave me five fuckin’ minutes t-”

Whatever else Joel had been about to say is lost because you’re already striding from the room. Your legs feel like jelly and you are almost blind with tears. You rush to the guest room, slamming the door behind you.

You throw yourself onto the bed; eyes squeezed shut as you try to even out your breathing. Your heart is pounding and you want to sob. But another part of you wants to tell Joel off, to tell him to go fuck himself.

You hear the door to the bathroom opening, then the shower running. You roll onto your back, eyes glaring up at the ceiling. Ten minutes pass before there’s a knock at the door. You pull yourself to a sitting position, holding your knees.

“Baby?”

You don’t answer. You don’t want to listen to him, to look at him. You’re furious at him for this and you’re terrified because this feels like your first real fight together.

When you don’t say anything he gently pushes the door open, dark eyes peeking around the door to see your tear-stained face glaring back at him. His brows saddle and he comes to the end of the bed, just looking down at you.

“So I guess that was our first real couple fight,” he offers guiltily.

“Yep.” You sniffle. "I don't like it."

"Me neither. I'm so sorry I snapped," he tells you earnestly, dropping to his knees beside the bed, but not touching you. "I know you were just trying to help. The stuff at work an’ the heat just got to me."

You shrug. “I didn’t give you space.”

“Space I’ve never asked for before? Nah, I was just bein’ an asshole," he says gently and you see the harshness leaving his handsome features. “Came home like a bear with a toothache. All you were tryin’ to do was make me happy.”

“Still.”

"I appreciated it,” Joel tells you gently. "Just maybe if I'm upset gimme time to cool off. I can have a bad temper at times an’ sometimes I just need to be in my head about it for a bit."

His hand grips your knee gently, squeezing to let you know all is well on his end. You allow it, feeling your animosity leaving you at the exchange.

"Okay," you nod. "I can do that."

"So I'm forgiven?"

"Always.”

You lift his hand from your knee and Joel smiles at you, accepting your gentle kiss to his palm without hesitation. He kisses you tenderly before pushing the sweaty hair from your face, his nose brushing yours.

"I have an idea of how to cool off."

An hour later you're at the movies with its sweet, beautiful air conditioner and giant tubs of popcorn and sodas in your laps. You and Joel pick the next movie playing which turns out to be some superhero fair he enjoys. You smile when he laughs, watching out the corner of your eyes as he does, your heart light because everything with Joel feels possible. Fights seem manageable.

Life is beautiful.

///

It’s the start of August when you start a part time job at a bookstore nearby. You and Joel discovered it during one of your lazy Sunday morning adventures where you try new coffee places.

It’s a quick bus ride from your place, but Joel insists on driving you when he can. But today you’ve been let go early due to over-staffing. You don’t mind at all, taking advantage of the beautiful day.

You walk down the sun-dappled streets feeling buoyed. You walk past the strip mall, glancing at the stores that line it. You normally don’t pay attention, but today your gaze is drawn to the sultry photo of the model in the store window.

Where Sensuality meets Style.

You don’t know what you’re expecting to do when you go inside the shop. What you’re not expecting is to come out a half hour later with some of the most scandalous lingerie you’ve ever owned. It’s black and strappy and shows more than it covers.

The second you get home you jump in the shower before primping. You take the lingerie out of the bag delicately, eyes wide with delight.

The lace black bra is completely see-through and the deep blush of your nipples are easily visible. There are decorative straps that hug the curves of your breasts. The panties match the fabric of the bra, low cut and barely covering your ass. Around your middle is a strappy black garter belt that matches the straps of the bra. You pull on the sheer black thigh-highs, attaching them before spinning, turning to see you from every angle in the bedroom mirror.

You look hot.

Your strappy high heels have been in the bottom of your bag, waiting for such an occasion. You tie them up, smiling to yourself. Joel is going to be very pleased. You pull on the black silk robe that came with your purchase, a thin little kimono-style that barely reaches your knees.

You’re just applying a deep shade of red to your lips when you hear Joel’s truck pull into the driveway. Your heart skips a beat and you quickly spritz yourself with the perfume Joel bought ages ago.

Showtime.

You hear the key starting in the lock and with a dramatic flourish you throw open the door as you undo your robe, letting your lingerie doing most of the talking for you. You strike a pose, hip jutting and tits out.

"Hope you're ready to get your cock sucked Mister Mill-"

Your eyes blow wide when you see the man on the other side of the door isn't Joel at all. It's a younger man with similar eyes and curls, his hand raised and holding a key to the house that he was in the process of unlocking.

The man averts his eyes to the ground politely before breaking into an embarrassed grin. You pull the robe around you tightly, cinching it and squeaking in humiliation.

"Now I see why my brother keeps rushin' home after work," the man says with an unsteady laugh.

Brother.

This is Tommy, Joel's brother that you've heard so much about.

Fuck

Sarah's uncle.

Double fuck.

"I…uh..." You falter, terror running through you.

Tommy looks immediately apologetic, his dark brows furrowed.

"Hey now, there's no need to be embarrassed," Tommy assures you. "Joel's his own man. I ain't gonna tell him he's too old and ugly for a pretty young thing like yourself."

You wonder if you should make up a lie like you're the house cleaner. But no, you can't after you answered the door dressed like you are.

Triple Fuck.

"It's not just that," you say and suddenly you feel the blush heating your cheeks. "It's uh... "

"What the fuck is goin’ on?"

The two of you glance over to see Joel pulling his truck into the driveway beside Tommy’s. He nearly jumps out while it's still parking. His legs scissor quickly over the grass, nearing to you.

You hear Tommy swear under his breath as his older brother advances. Joel sees you in the doorframe, your eyes wide. He glances down your body when he sees you’re wearing a robe before glaring at Tommy.

"What the fuck are you doin' at my house?"

"Came to get those tools we talked about." Tommy tries to smother his smirk. "Didn't know you had company."

"You could've called."

"Never had to before."

“Well you do now.”

The two brothers stare at each other speaking through micro expressions. You worry that a fist fight is about to break out if you don't de-escalate the situation.

“I’m gonna go change," you say with an awkward laugh.

"I'll grab the tools," Tommy mutters, wincing at the angered look from Joel. "Think they're in the back shed, yeah?"

"Or the garage. Can't remember."

The two continue talking lowly but you’re already in the bedroom with the door closed. Your cheeks are flushed and your heart is beating like mad as you go to the dresser to pull out some jeans and shirt, your hands trembling with anxiety.

What if Tommy tells Sarah?

She'll be devastated. She needs to hear it from you and Joel, not her uncle.

You hear the bedroom door open behind you and you see Joel slip into the room, his dark eyes on you.

"I'm so sorry," you say as he approaches you. "I thought it was you."

"Course you did," Joel murmurs, coming to stand next to you. "How could you have known my idiot brother would be breakin' in?"

"I'd hardly call it breaking in," you say with an eye roll. "He had a key."

"Not anymore." Joel frowns, his eyes noting the robe again. "Did you just wake up?"

"No," you say, suddenly shy. "I was... I was wanting to surprise you.”

Joel's gloomy mood is immediately broken. His mouth curves into a broad smile.

"My girl," he coos, fingers pinching your chin softly. "So thoughtful."

You want to say more but Joel's fingers are sliding down your neck, ghosting over your breasts and then at the sash untying quickly, eyes wide with anticipation. He practically tears it from you as you hold in a giggle.

When Joel sees the lingerie underneath you feel his gaze turn ravenous.

"This is what you were waitin’ to show me?" Joel murmurs, hands trailing down the front of your lingerie.

"Yeah."

"Turn for me," Joel whispers. You spin gently in his arms, feeling flustered. He grips a handful of your ass, groaning at the sight as it falls. "Fuck baby. I don't deserve this."

"You deserve more," you tell him, looking at him over your shoulder.

You spin slowly in his grip, feeling his fingers drag along the sheer fabric. Joel casts an appreciative gaze at your breasts barely contained. He's groans feel the back of his throat, his hands cupping you through the fabric. He sees your nipples and latches his full mouth over one, sucking through the fabric.

"Joel!"

He does the same with the other, soaking the sheer fabric and leaving you panting. He twists you gently, his hand sliding over your covered mound.

"Gonna let me fuck you, pretty girl?"

"Now?"

"Mhmm," Joel murmurs against the shell of your ear. "Can't wait when you look that good."

"I guess I could show you what I had prepared," you tease.

He watches you slide onto your knees in front of him, hands deftly coming to his belt and zipper.

Joel watches this with his mouth parted and his gaze electric as he watches you pull his cock from his jeans. He's rock hard and when you swipe your tongue over the head he hisses.

You kiss the head gently, feeling him twitch with every graze of your full mouth over him. Your tongue comes out to give long, wet licks to the shaft and you hear him groan above you. You place him against your lower lip, watching the red bloom on his cheeks.

You look the very picture of debauchery on your knees with his cock resting against your lips.

"Can I please suck your cock, Joel?"

A full-bodied shudder goes through him at your husky plea. His hand comes to cup your cheek as he gives you a soft shake of his head. You're surprised at this and when he tilts, bringing you to a stand in his arms you furrow your brow.

"Need to feel your cunt, baby," he says grazing his lips against yours. 'S'that okay?"

You pause, indecision flirting across your features. You're not exactly quiet when Joe is inside you. He turns you, holding you from behind and urging you towards the bed. But you pause, your pulse thrumming.

"Tommy might hear."

"He never should have come here," Joel tells you as he nuzzles the back of your neck. "His own fault if he hears somethin'."

"Joel!"

"Mister Miller," Joel croons against the shell of your ear and suddenly you understand. The dynamic that started all of this, fucking when you could be caught. He's throbbing against your back and you smile, grinding back against him.

"You're so bad, Mister Miller," you coo, feeling as delicious goose bumps prickle all over, whimpering when Joel's palm cups your pussy through the fabric.

"Must be what you like, cuz you're soaked," he reminds you, nipping the flesh of your lobe. "Get on the bed for me, bad girl."

His hand moves from your pussy to slap your ass playfully. You barely hesitate before you shoot him a smirk and go to unbuckle your heels but Joel stops you with a firm shake of his head.

“Leave ‘em on.”

You grin up at him before turning onto your stomach, sure to arch appealingly as you crawl on all fours to the center of the mattress. Joel watches this from under heavy eyelids, his cock straining against the zipper of his jeans.

You throw yourself onto your back, giggling softly when Joel comes to bracket your thighs with his own. He looks down at you with a heat in his eyes that you can feel burning within you. He leans over your body, warm and heavy and his head drops, mouth coming to lick your hardened nipple through the gauzy black fabric. The other is pinched with his free hand, worrying them both into straining points.

He does the same with the other, attentive as you sigh in exhilaration. Your thighs band around his waist, holding him nestled against you. His hands are tugging the front of your lingerie down, exposing you to him.

"Gorgeous," he breathes, huffing along your sternum, kissing down your stomach. It twitches under the contact.

You give a small gasp of surprise when Joel tugs you by the ankles until your ass is at the edge of the bed. His hands slide up your black thigh highs, inhaling as he looks you over. He brings your legs to either side, hooking your heels at his shoulder before kissing each ankle bone sweetly.

He begins subtly licking his lips in anticipation as he views you, eyes taking their time to see you pliant and waiting for him. His thumbs hook in the waist of your thong, tugging it off officiously over your ass as you squirm excitedly below him. He brings them off over your ankles and shoes, the heels at his ears.

"Wrists together," he murmurs, the black edging out the remaining brown of his eyes.

You exhale slowly, trying to calm the flush going through your body. You hold out your wrists to him, your own eyes bright.

Joel smirks down at you before binding your wrists securely with your panties. The fabric is taut around your wrists as you raise your arms above your head, letting them fall back on the mattress.

"We shouldn't be doing this," you tell him, playing into it as you gaze at him through hooded eyes. "Shouldn't fuck me when he could hear, Mister Miller."

"Maybe I want him to hear," Joel replies smoothly, surprising you. "Maybe I need him to know why he doesn't come bargin' into my house."

You giggle up at Joel, watching him bring his cock from his pants. He's remarkably hard, the head weeping as he guides it to your entrance. You’re practically folding in half, your legs against his chest, his cock teasing your clit.

"Spread those legs for me," Joel murmurs with adoration in his eyes. "Lemme see how wet she is."

"Yes, Mister Miller."

Your thighs part and he gives a heavy sigh at the sight, his hands holding your ankles against his shoulders. You lay there bound and exposed to him and you've never felt safer. You exist in the harbor of his love, protected.

Joel's one hand goes to your inner thigh, sliding until it reaches the seam of your cunt. You give a soft whimper as his fingers drive forward, grazing your clit.

"Fuckin' perfect."

Those same fingers begin to curl, coaxing more delicious whimpers from you. Joel watches this all with eager interest, his cock weeping at the sight of you restrained and spread wantonly for him. When he adds a third finger you feel your thighs begin to quake.

"Don't make me wait anymore," you beg needfully through moans. "I need your cock. Please."

Joel slowly removes his fingers, slipping them from you to wrap around the base of his cock, drenching it in your arousal before he leads it between your trembling thighs.

"Anythin' you want, baby," Joel grins down at you. "Anythin' you want."

Joel slides into you with ease. It's not shocking; you're already dripping for him. He lets out a groan before his hands go to your thighs, parting them further, allowing him to thrust deeply, his ass clenching as he bottoms out in you. The two of you give a soft gasp at the sensation.

“Never felt this good,” he tells you, eyes heavy. “Not with anyone.”

His palms slide down your thighs, grazing over your calves until they come to stop at your ankles. Joel takes one in each hand, pressing a kiss to the delicate anklebones before he's parting your legs obscenely until you’re almost doing the splits below him, your pussy glossy and pink and full of his cock. He holds you open like this, eyes ravenous as he continues to sink into you.

“Attagirl,” he croons as his head tilts back. The sensation is divine and you let him guide your movements, your hands on the bed and your legs held spread by Joel. From this angle you can see him enter you slowly, shaft glistening as he strokes in… and pulls out, grazing your clit.

"So full," you whimper, eyes rolling and back arching off the bed. He feels so good, so perfectly thick between your legs when he does it again. "So good."

He grips your ankles tightly, dark eyes peering down as he stands next to the bed. Your tits bounce with every drive of his hips into you.

"Take it all, baby" Joel grunts down at you. "Make me proud."

He’s still standing, still slightly tilted over you beside the bed. It’s impossible to touch him, only to lay there, spread-eagle with Joel’s cock driving into you over and over, deeper and deeper. Sweat begins to shine along his shoulders as he fucks into you, little groans escaping him as he watches your body ripple under him.

"J-Joel!" You groan out, hands groping the sheets.

"Not my name," Joel grunts, his hips slamming into your ass.

"M-Mister m-M-ah-Miller!"

He's going faster, his soaked cock pistoning in and out of your cunt as your body rocks against him. Your hands are in the blanket, gripping there tightly as Joel holds you wider as his pace quickens. Your hips burn, your thighs strain but you crave more. You glance down again, watching as he saws in and out of you, his cock dripping with you arousal.

"Takin' it so well," Joel grunts out loudly when he sees you watching. "Pussy is just fucking milkin' my cock today, pretty girl."

At the sound of your groan in response he fucks into you furiously, balls slapping your ass and making sharp smacking noises in the quiet bedroom. It’s this sound which brings you back to yourself, recalling that Tommy is likely in the house at this very moment, tools in hand.

"You gotta be q-quiet!" You whimper between his deep thrusts. Joel may be fine with his brother hearing the two of you fuck but you certainly aren't.

"Nuh uh," Joel grins almost ferally. "Not in my house... Wanna hear my bad girl scream my name."

It’s so fucking wrong.

"Say my name," Joel urges. "Wanna hear it when you come."

You're brain goes fuzzy, knowing what Joel requested. But a pleasure is building between your legs and drifting into your veins. It makes your mind work sluggish, unable to form the right words.

“I’m gonna come-“

“For who baby? Say it?” Joel demands, and now he fucks you hard, his balls tightening when you bounce on his cock.

"Daddy!"

Both sets of eyes blow wide at this. Neither of you were expecting that to be the honorific you groaned loud enough for Tommy to hear. But the sound of it is potent and Joel grips your hips tightly in his hands and fucks you deep.

"Fuck yeah you are," Joel grunts out obscenely. "Give it to Daddy."

You try to cover your mouth but Joel is thrusting so quickly, so deep your hands fly to gain purchase on the mattress.

"You're so deep," you moan, your breasts rolling as he pumps into you. "It's so good!"

You know that if Tommy is still in the house he's heard everything. But you don't care, all you can do is look where Joel has you spread lasciviously, his soaked cock pumping in and out of you.

"Come on my cock, come on Daddy's cock," Joel chants in a hush, sweat shining on his brow. "Need it baby, Daddy needs it now."

Joel's collar and neck are pink, his cheekbones red. His teeth are clenched and bared as he watches himself fuck into you. His biceps are curled, holding your thighs widely open for him.

He's magnificent.

His eyes roll back a moment, his hips stuttering a moment. He's getting close.

"Come for me," Joel groans out, his eyes stuck on yours. "Be a good girl and come for Daddy."

And suddenly you can't stop yourself. Your hands are clutching the blankets and your body is arching off the bed violently as your orgasm takes you over.

"Fuck, Daddy! I'm coming!"

Joel gives a broad grin before grunting your name as he spills inside you with your trembling legs still spread wide, ankles held by Joel's large palms.

Finally he comes down, his panting heavy as he collapses into the bed next to you. He brings you over to him, wrapping you in his arms and grinning in your hair.

"That'll teach Tommy to come over unannounced."

///

The two of you are on the sofa; your head is resting on a pillow in his lap. He's watching the news on TV while you scroll through your text messages. The two of you were out in the backyard today, Joel mowing the grass while you did some sunbathing. The two of you are sunburned and sleepy from it.

Sarah and Charlie are in a club. The lights are low and colorful. The image is slightly fuzzy. Sarah is being held in Charlie's arms and she holds up a glass of something alcoholic judging by the way she's peering into the camera, mouth in a sloppy smile.

Looks like you're having fun!

Chapter c ch jjj JG da

Hah yeah, Sarah's drunk. Luckily Charlie looks in control of his faculties in the photo.

"Is that Sarah?" Joel asks his eyes catching the edge of your phone.

"Yeah."

"Lemme see," Joel says reaching for the phone. "She didn't send me a photo today, just a message about some museum."

He's fake pouting, irked that you've received something from Sarah while all he's had this week are texts. His brows rise when you pull your phone out of his reach, holding it against your chest.

"She's... This isn't a photo she'd want her dad seeing."

Joel's face immediately contorts into disgust and you burst into laughter.

"Not like that," you say between wheezes. "She's at a club with Charlie and they're both drunk. I don't know if she'd want her dad seeing her wasted."

"Yeah probably not," Joel relents after some thought.

It's the first time you've been the bridge between them. A spy working on both sides. It makes you feel funny, like its wrong that you love both of them. While your love for each is not the same in nature, they have both carved parts for themselves within your heart.

“Baby?” Joel murmurs from above you.

“Yeah?”

“I need you to know that I’m serious about you n’ me.”

You glance up to his face before pulling yourself into a sitting position next to him. Your heart melts as he gazes at you.

“Me too.”

“So I wanna tell Sarah about us,” Joel says quietly. “I don’t like lying to her.”

He must see the terror in your face because his hand falls over yours.

“Doesn’t need to be while she’s off havin’ an adventure. Don’t wanna spoil that for her. But she gets home soon and when she does, I wanna tell her. If nothing else about this relationship, we're at least gonna do this part right."

"It's too soon," you tell him with a flutter in your chest.

"I wanna hold you in my arms out in the open," Joel murmurs against your temple. "I'm tired of keepin' you a secret, like we’re doin’ something wrong. I love you and that ain’t wrong.”

You feel yourself turn to a puddle at his feet when he tells you that.

"I love you too."

"Sarah talked about coming back here before her job starts up," Joel explains. "Just for the weekend. I think I need to tell her then."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I'll invite her over for dinner and we'll talk."

"What if she's upset?"

"She probably will be," Joel says, sighing heavily. The thought of his daughter being upset with him churns his guts. They've been through so much together, but that's why keeping you a secret is so hard.

"But I can't keep lying to her."

"I know."

“So it’s decided,” Joel tells you, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. “When Sarah comes home next week we’re gonna tell her.”

“Yeah,” you nod resolutely. “We’ll tell her then.”

///

There are few people in this world that Sarah Miller can depend on.

After her mother left when she was a toddler Sarah’s always had a feel of being forgotten. Of being left behind.

Her dad is someone she can depend on. Always there if she needs to talk, helping her set up furniture, there when her heart has been broken, there when she needed money or someone to help her buy a car.

He's a good dad. A good man.

And so when the taxi pulls into the driveway on Rancher Street Sarah breathes a sigh of relief at the familiar windows and freshly varnished front porch. A classic Joel move that he does every summer.

She’s several days early since she caught the earlier flight to surprise him. She can’t wait to see him after all these months away. She’s missed him and his silly jokes, his dumb DVD’s and the way he always listens as if she’s the most interesting person in the world.

One the few phone calls she’s made home he’s seemed different as of late. More spring in his step, more smiles, quicker to laugh. She figures it must be the divorce from Tess. The woman had never really understood Joel, even if she was perfectly kind.

Sarah throws her bag over her shoulder, heading into the house.

It’s not just the excitement of being home that has her almost three days early. It’s also because she just got the news that she was hired here at a clinic in Austin. One that pays well and offers benefits and makes her really really happy just at the thought.

Unfortunately during their time this week Charlie was offered a temporary position over in Santa Fe. An equally amazing opportunity and one that he couldn’t possibly refuse considering his other job fell through. Both of them had been glassy eyed as they realized their time apart would stretch well over six months.

"It'll go fast," Charlie insisted over dinner one night that Sarah was feeling especially down. "Six months is nothing. And then I'll be back in Austin and ... I think we should move in together."

Sarah thinks of her dad living in the house by himself and it breaks her heart.

No Tess and eventually, no her.

///

Your favorite thing about Sunday is that you and Joel take full advantage of it being his day off. You sleep in, tangled in each other's arms. You usually wake up to Joel's mouth on your neck, kissing gently before whispering your name and a raspy "you up, baby?"

He never does anything more until you confirm you're awake, and then he waits for you to take the lead. Sometimes it's a kiss to his cheek and the announcement that you want to go out for croissants at that new coffee shop you both discovered.

Sometimes you press your hips to his and urge him inside you, both of you rocking to a slow and sleepy orgasm. He holds you against his slumber-warmed body as he murmurs how good you are for him, how perfect you feel.

On Sunday afternoons you lay with your legs over his on the couch. He usually has a book in one hand, the other gently resting on your calf, tracing absently. You’re usually reading your Kindle, eyes wide when you come upon something surprising. Your breathing elevates and Joel always hears it.

"What's goin' on now?"

"She just found out she has to stab three faeries in the heart with wood daggers."

"Shit, really? Here I thought the whole puzzle-lever thing was bad."

There's something about his focus on you, the intense desire to learn everything you have to share. This support, this focus, it makes you fall even harder for him. It makes your eyes go glassy and unfocused.

He knows the look. It makes him close his book with a muted slap, dropping it beside the couch before he's tugging your pants down and burying his face between your thighs until you cry out, fingers twisted in his curls.

In the evening you cook together, something your parents never did. It’s usually something easy like chicken or pasta as the radio hums behind you. On nice nights Joel BBQs with you bringing him a beer as he smiles at you, commenting that he's spoiled rotten.

Then it's TV or a movie and then to bed where more often than not, Joel urges you onto his lap where he lathers praise all over your body as your hips roll over his.

Or if you're both tired he simply drags you into his arms and whispers how he can't believe he got this lucky, how happy he is, how beautiful you are. He touches you with affection and care and you repeat much the same, feeling as if your heart could burst.

It's perfect and quiet and peaceful and you've never felt like this. So safe in his arms, so protected.

This Sunday however is different. You wake up to an empty bed. You frown, sad not to feel the warmth of his body against yours.

Maybe he's making breakfast, you think. He does this sometimes, waking you with strawberry waffles. But there's no noise from downstairs, no lingering aroma of sugar and syrup. Its possible he’s working on emails for the business.

So you stretch languidly before pulling yourself from the warm nest of the bed. You brush your teeth, before padding downstairs. You hear shuffling in the kitchen and smile as you enter.

"Baby, let's go to that bakery, again" you croon sleepily sauntering into the kitchen wearing nothing but Joel's oversized Miller Construction t-shirt and your panties. "I wanna see if they have those cro-“

The second you see a figure standing by the sink the words die on your tongue.

“Sarah?”

At first Sarah doesn't connect the dots. She's confused to see you here at her house, her mind trying to connect the dots of why her college roommate is here at her house wearing her dad's clothes. For an insane moment she’s actually excited you’re here, thinking that you must have come here for her and she steps towards you, her smile bright.

Then she sees the look of absolute terror crossing your features and Sarah looks to the counter to see two emptied wine glasses probably from last night. She sees the small touches around the home like your jacket slung over the dining chair, a lipstick tube by the microwave.

She takes in how your hair is mussed, like you just woke up here. And then suddenly, belatedly, Sarah puts two and two together. She steps back from you as if you're a stranger who's broken into her home.

"What the fuck?"

"Sarah I can explain-"

Like some terrible farce, the front door is unlocked and pushed open at that very moment and Joel's voice rings out.

"I got coffees but they didn't have any of those croissants you liked from last time," Joel calls out to you, his voice turning teasing. "Maybe tomorrow if you're a good girl-"

Joel enters the kitchen with a smile on his face that immediately drains when he sees Sarah standing beside you looking horrified.

"Sarah?"

He drops the coffees he was holding, letting the steaming contents fall to the ground where no one attempts to pick them up. The drinks just seep it into the tile floor as the three of you cast eyes to one another.

Everything in you wants to run to Joel, to have him hold you during this awful moment. It wasn't supposed to happen like this. You were supposed to be prepared and respectful, not in the middle of some domestic fantasy with the scent of sex still clinging to the both of you.

And when you see the pure anguish in Joel's eyes when he looks at his daughter you want to vomit. In this moment you would take it all back. The fucking, the kissing, the loving, you'd erase it all if it means Joel never has to experience this pain.

He takes a tentative step forward to Sarah, blinking furiously for a moment as he steadies his breathing.

"Sarah-"

"What the fuck is going on, Dad?"

Joel's lower lip trembles as he thinks of how to explain this. But how can he without hurting her?

"Sarah I can explain," you stay, shrinking when she turns her suddenly furious eyes on you.

"Well, someone'd better."

You've known Sarah for years. She's been pressed, angry, frustrated. But you've never seen her like this. With the kind of fury that makes you shrink back from her. The kind of anger that radiates off of her and causes you to lose your courage momentarily.

"Y-your dad... Joel and I are seeing each other," you say wincing at how pathetic that sounds. "We're together."

Seeing each other? You're in love with him. He asked you to live with him. You want to build a life together. You want to marry him one day, even though you’ve never voiced it.

"You're seeing my dad," she repeats slowly giving a mirthless laugh. "You don't even know my dad."

"Honey," Joel says and you both glance up at him. You cringe as Sarah realizes this the same time you do.

"This is disgusting," she utters with a shudder. She looks at Joel with a look of absolute disbelief. "She's my age, Dad."

"I didn't-" Joel falters and he casts a desperate look in your direction before he's looking back at his daughter. "It's not an age thing."

"Right."

"S'not," Joel insists honestly.

She stops and you feel your stomach sink when recognition flashes across her anguished face. She looks over at you, grimacing.

"Joe," she says barely above a whisper. "That night I heard you at the bar you weren't saying Joe. You were saying Joel."

"Sarah-"

"How long has this been going on?" Sarah’s voice is up two octaves. "How long?"

"Christmas."

"Christmas?" Sarah looks ill. "You've been fucking my roommate in secret for almost nine months?"

"Sarah," Joel warns. "I know you're angry but-"

"I'm not angry!" Sarah insists. "I'm disgusted. You're like twenty years older than her, dad."

"Eighteen," you offer quietly. The dark looks they both give you assure you that your addition was unnecessary. And suddenly Sarah’s attention is on you, her fury focused on the woman wearing her dad’s clothes.

"I brought you here to my house after Conrad dumped you because you said you were so heartbroken and you fuck my dad?" Sarah seethes. "You make it so he gets divorced?"

"Tess and I were headin' that way for a while babygirl," Joel interjects. "Long before Christmas."

"Who made the first move?"

Joel and you exchange a look and it's your cheeks that heat and your eyes that drop to the floor.

"Me," Joel lies. You don't want to argue with him right now, but you both know it sure as hell wasn't Joel who started things.

It was you who forced yourself into his room. You who begged him to let you suck his cock. You who rode him, demanding his come. Joel had come around eventually, but there was no question on who initiated things.

"It was me," you insist. "I pursued him."

Sarah is staring at you with glassy eyes, chin wobbling and the sight of it devastates you. "I thought we were friends."

Now you feel your eyes growing damp. "We are-"

"Friends don't sleep with their friends dads!" Sarah insists and before you can answer she's whirled around to face Joel. "And what the fuck dad? Since when are you one of those midlife crisis guys?"

"S'not a midlife crisis," Joel explains.

"No?"

"No," Joel says sharply. "This ain't some casual fling. I'm in love with her."

Even though he's told it to you so many times, hearing him say it out loud to someone else has your eyes spilling over with tears. Fuck you wish you were holding him right now.

"In love," Sarah scoffs with a tremor in her voice. "Bullshit."

She spins quickly and before either of you can reply she's jogged out of the house, slamming the door behind her. The tears are in Joel's eyes along with a heavy dose of panic shot your way.

"I have to-"

"Don't have to explain," you urge him. "Go."

Joel nods and before he leaves he turns briefly, eyes cast to you. He marches to you and kisses gently and all too briefly.

"I love you."

And then he's gone, his body striding from the room after Sarah. Only once the door is closed behind him do you allow the sobs to escape.

///

Joel returns hours later to find you sitting on the couch, dressed and looking into space. You’ve packed all your things in your suitcase and duffle. Your clothes are clean and you try your best not to cry when you see him.

He looks exhausted, his eyes red-rimmed and puffy. You can tell he’s been crying, or trying not to, all day. He looks at you sitting there waiting and you see his brows saddle. You don’t go to him, don’t approach him. You wait for him to sit next to you on the couch.

“Come here.”

Only then do you launch into his waiting arms, letting him bring you into his lap. You straddle him, but it’s not sexual. You do it so that you can hug him tightly, your chests pressed together, hearts beating in tandem.

"She was coming home cuz she got a job out here," Joel explains, your head tucked under his chin. "She uh, she's wanting to move back home for a few months. Til Charlie’s back from Santa Fe.”

“Makes sense.”

You feel Joel swallow and you pull back, still seated on his lap facing him. He looks so lost when you gaze at him, hand coming to cup his cheek.

“What is it, baby?”

"She says she's not gonna come in the house until you're gone," he says with a tremor in his voice. You see the sheen begin in his eyes, the way he blinks it back rapidly.

"I don't know what to do," Joel murmurs.

"You know exactly what you have to do," you answer for him, sounding stronger than you actually feel. "She's your daughter Joel. She had your heart long before I did."

You both know that this is it. This is the end of your story. For Joel, Sarah's welfare will always be his top priority and if you're honest, you wouldn't respect any other choice.

"It's okay, I already packed my bags," you answer. Joel looks struck dumb, his brows knitted together.

"You did?"

"After I saw Sarah's reaction I just knew," you say sniffling, your fingers going to a stray thread in the collar of his t-shirt. You twist it around your finger, watching the blood pool in your fingertip. "There’s no way for this to go on without hurting her.”

"I think maybe ... Maybe if we give it a few weeks," Joel tries to reason, but you stop him with your fingers gently coming to press against his full lips.

"Joel."

You both know it won't be a few weeks. The damage done to Sarah is deep. You both know that just from seeing her reaction. You know that your continued presence here will only increase the divide between them and you know you can't do that to the man you love.

If she’d come home when she was originally planned there was a maybe it could work. If they’d presented it confidently, holding hands, a united front. If they’d explained it calmly instead of being found out and acting guiltily maybe there was a chance she would have come around. But now? After what she stumbled upon? You can’t say that you would be any different.

Your hand moves from his mouth to cup his cheek once more. The rasp of his beard tickles your palm as you hold him, gazes stuck on one another.

"It can't be over," Joel says, his voice thick with emotion. "I can't give you up. I just found you."

Your heart breaks at those words coming from the man who wants nothing more than to take care of you, to love you.

"You have to," you say, sniffling. "I never want you to choose between me and Sarah. It's an unfair ask."

You also know that he will always pick Sarah. He has to, he's a father first, your boyfriend second. You see it in the resigned way he clenches his jaw. It’s why you love him – that devotion, that love.

Joel falls silent a moment, his fingers tracing the small snowflake pendant you haven’t taken off since he gave it to you.

"But she has no right to be upset," Joel insists after a moment. "You're grown, I'm grown, we're both single-"

"You're in the middle of getting divorced and I'm your daughter's best friend," you tell him flatly. "And she found out completely by surprise that we've been together for months and that we'd been having an affair when you were married to Tess."

Joel is solemn. Hearing it all out loud sounds so harsh, so vulgar. But it's the truth and you won't hide from it. Your head is on his shoulder, cheek pressed against the soft fabric.

"She has every right to be upset. I would be if I were her."

And while it's true, it doesn't stop the hurt. It doesn't stop Joel from trying to think of an alternative.

"I could put you up in an apartment in town and-"

"And drain your bank account? Make you sneak around and lie to Sarah?" You shake your head gently. "I won't let you do that, Joel. And I won’t hide away like a dirty secret, terrified of being found out."

Joel’s eyes are shut tightly, as if he's trying to block out this entire day.

"We had months of happiness and love together and maybe we have to just be thankful for that." Your voice is quivering.

"S'not enough," Joel insists, his arms around your waist, pulling you against him. "I want you here with me. I need you."

Tears are falling down his cheeks at the same rate as yours. Even as your lips tremble and your view of him becomes a watercolor blur, you press on.

"Maybe this is what we have to live with after what we did, Joel. Maybe we don't deserve a happy ending."

This is what breaks Joel and you see the light fade from his dark eyes. You see the way his face sobers as you both realize there's no coming back from this.

You don't want to prolong this heartache. You want to go and cry somewhere private. You want to regroup.

"I'm gonna call a taxi to the airport hotel."

"I'm drivin' you."

"No Joel," you say, shaking your head. "I... It'll be too hard. I need us to say goodbye here and now."

You know that if he drives you you'll invite him into the hotel room. You'll fuck all night, making sorrowful promises, extending the pain. You need to sever it quickly.

Joel sniffles softly before nodding. His eyes are wounded, large and imploring.

"Can I call you?"

"I don't think it's a good idea." Even as you say it you feel your heart crumbling. "Not for a little while anyway. If Sarah found out..."

"Right."

You see the mixture of pain and frustration in his dark eyes. Your hands go to either side of his face, holding him, thumbs grazing his stubbled cheeks.

"Don't be upset with her," you urge. "She's done nothing wrong. And she loves you more than anything."

"I know." His voice is soft and you know that nothing in this world could make him care less for his daughter. It's one of the things you love most about him. You lower your hands from his face.

The two of you lapse into silence and finally Joel brings out his phone and presses it a few times. You crawl out of his lap and the two of you stand beside the couch. Joel murmurs a few things into the phone before hanging up.

"Taxi'll be here in ten minutes."

Joel brings you into his arms, holding you tightly to him and rocking back and forth. For the next ten minutes you hold one another, your face buried in his the crook of his neck.

"I'm never gonna stop lovin you," Joel tells you plainly, mouth against your temple. "Even if I never get to see you again. I need you to know that."

You want to say so much to him but your throat has closed up entirely. You want to thank him for loving you. Want to thank him for showing you what real love looks like.

He kisses you with the regret of years of his love unfulfilled. He kisses you with the desperation of a man who knows his time is up. He kisses you with all he has and then he releases you and now you find the words

"I'll love you forever, Joel."

Because you will.

He follows you onto the sun baked driveway, the two of you walking past Sarah in Joel's truck. You see her swollen, tearstained face and feel guilt start anew. You never wanted to hurt your friend like this. The only real friend you've ever had in your life. The loss of her friendship is its own kind of pain that burns deep.

Joel fights the urge to touch you, to kiss you again; you can sense it in the way he stands so close to you as the driver loads your suitcase into the trunk of the taxi.

"Goodbye."

He can't help himself. His hands go to either side of your face, holding you there as he moves his lips over yours, kissing you fiercely. You let him, your hands gripping his waist as he tastes you one last time.

When the driver gives a loud cough Joel pulls back, his eyes wet again. There are no words left. Only the sorrow of your dual gazes as his thumb strokes your cheek.

"Promise me you'll find someone who makes you happy," you tell him in a rushed whisper, holding him tightly. "Someone who makes you laugh and feel good and wants to have babies with you."

"I'm not-"

"Promise me Joel," you tell him firmly.

"Only if you promise me you're gonna find someone who treats you right," Joel all but begs. "No more fucking Conrad’s. No more boys that don't appreciate how fucking perfect you are."

"No one could ever love me like you do," you tell him through broken sobs and Joel wraps his arms around you. You go to wrap your arms around his waist until you see that Sarah is watching the two of you from the truck with a disgusted look on her face. You pull back from him, trying to summon all your composure.

Maybe it was always meant to end like this. Maybe it's exactly what you deserve for selfishly starting this all last Christmas. Part of you thinks that it’s not fair. That your love should overcome this. But then a larger part feels like it's what you deserve.

Happiness this wonderful doesn't deserve to last.

“Goodbye, Joel.”

Shielding your eyes from the sun you cast one last look at Sarah over your shoulder, hoing she sees that this isn’t some fling. Praying that she sees the love you and Joel have for one another as she bursts out of the truck and forgives you both.

But instead she glares furiously at you, making your stomach sink as you accept that this is the only possible decision.

You crawl into the taxi, pulling the door shut and give him the address for the airport hotel. You can't look at Joel but know that he's standing there staring into the cab.

As the taxi pulls away from the curb you finally tilt your eyes and watch as Joel's form grows smaller and smaller in the back window until he's nothing but a mirage. His voice stays with you though, even and tender and husky.

I’m never gonna stop lovin’ you.

You absently finger the silver pendant around your neck, musing darkly that snowflakes never last that long.

@fanficaddictmwah @southernbe

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#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #smut #joel miller #dad joel miller #fanfiction #fanfic #pedro pascal #bfdjoelmiller #joel x reader #joel fanfic #joel miller x f!reader #joel tlou

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chappellroansdreamgirl · 2 days

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getting called angel, baby, honey, pretty girl and sweet thing by abby anderson could fix me and my mommy issues i'm sure.

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getitoutofmymindwrites · 18 hours

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The landing | joel miller x f!reader, 13.2k

Summary: You feel him before you see him. He’s still taking up space in your micro-universe. His sole presence creates ripples through the atmosphere as he walks towards you, softly nudging you to turn your head from your spot to look behind you. Or The one where your orbits finally collide for the final showdown.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, NO SPOILER (read A/N), ANGST, cheater!joel, discussions of infidelity, mention of food consumption, yelling, crying, the briefest mention of smut thoughts, sprinkle of fluff (blink and you'll miss it), as always let me know if I missed anything 👀

A/N: Ok, *deep breath* I know I can't make everyone happy unless I write alternate endings 😅 and I understand that infidelity can be a very triggering concept. I gave them the ending I felt they both deserved, but if you're looking for a story where they are at each other's throats for 13k words, maybe this is not for you and you are more than welcome to kindly move on. I won't spoil the ending in the Warnings, so proceed with caution, you know what the main theme is all about. All I can tell you is that this part of the story is divided into two main scenes because I didn't want to drag it out with one little scene after another. *she says after spilling 13k words🙄sorry about that👀* As always, I would love to read your thoughts on the last part and please keep in mind that writing is almost always self-indulgent.

P.S. I want to thank each and every one of you for the love I received for this mini-series, I never thought it would engage so many people. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart. You've all been so kind and sweet to me, so this journey filled my heart with joy! I love you all, take care of yourselves and I'll see you -hopefully- in the comments! Oh! My asks are always open if you want to know more about their story. I could even write drabbles or one-shots about anything you'd like to know in particular. Ily, bye 😘

P.S. I deliberately left the last two lines without clarification of who says what, I leave that up to you. 🤍

Dividers by @cafekitsune @saradika-graphics @plum98

previous |

FOUR YEARS AFTER THE FALL

Are you still falling?

You’re not sure anymore. Maybe you’re just used to it. Or maybe you just learned how to fly. It certainly feels like everything has slowed down. Sometimes it feels like floating. As if you’re a feather, so lightweight, swirling around aimlessly. But you can never touch the ground. Gravity can’t quite pull you down. Every time you feel like you’re finally landing, a force of nature pulls you back up.

Maybe it is a soft, warm, summer breeze, a memory of Joel.

Maybe it is a whirlwind, a contact from the lawyers.

Maybe it is a snowstorm, sign the papers, please.

Maybe it is the whispering of a gentle wind, the possibilities of what might have been, or the lack of real closure.

But it’s nice here. Even between the earth and the sky.

You never thought you’d enjoy leaving the big city and making a home for yourself on a ranch. But you loved it. You loved the peace and quiet, you loved this new community of people, you loved taking care of the horses, riding them, being around them. And then there was the house. A place you could almost call home. It was beautiful, rustic, warm, inviting, lacking none of the comforts a modern house needs, because you can’t quite get the big city girl out of you. The entire land had a soft, yellow-golden light enveloping every tree and every rock, everywhere your eyes reached, as if the sun shone differently here.

The days are easy. The chores are more than enough to keep you focused, there’s always something to do around here. It feels good to be busy, to keep your mind from dwelling on the past. You welcome the exhaustion of a full day’s work that accompanies your body when night comes.

Evenings are mostly good. You shower the day off, you cook, you chill on the couch with a good book or a film and more often than not, as the time passes and you feel more comfortable sharing the privacy of your home, you have friends over for dinner and drinks.

Nights though, nights are hard. At night, you pray that you are tired to the point of exhaustion so that you can sleep through it peacefully. Sometimes it works, but most of the time, not so much.

Time has intensified and lessened your emotional burden simultaneously.

The sharp pain that feels like thick acid being poured into you mellows in an inexplicable way. It still hurts, the pain oozing out of your every single pore even in a physical way. Only now, it has transformed into a sweet, slow poison conquering every hollow of your body, every vein leading from your heart to the ends of your limbs.

It’s almost a welcoming feeling, this pain, reminding you that you’re still alive, that he was real, that everything that happened was real. Because sometimes, sometimes, when you let yourself relax, when you let your guard down, all of this feels like a dream. Sometimes, you wake up in the middle of the night, confused, reaching with your hand for the other side of the bed and finding it empty. And for a split second you get that feeling. The feeling of how it used to be with him next to you.

Then you remember.

You know why this is happening and who’s responsible for it. This is a mix-up. This is what your treacherous brain does to mess with your resolve. It blends the bad stuff into the good, creating the strangest of concoctions. The clear image of black and white, neatly and perfectly hung in the center of the walls of your mind is now splashed with colorful memories from your life together, like a Pollock painting. You do your best to resist, to bring back scenes from all the vivid recollections of the night your life changed forever but your uncooperative brain pops another memory up, a good fuckin’ memory, like a projector, illuminating those bare imaginary walls with laughter and touches and whispers and scents and warmth. It’s relentless.

This dichotomy creates an uneasiness inside you, you choose to reject and pretend not to notice. Which in turn leads to self-contempt because, as always you can’t lie to yourself. You may lie to others but deep in your core you have to be honest with yourself. That is something you’re owed. To be aware, present in the reality of your life. So, you know, you know, you just sweep things under the carpet as a copy mechanism. You know what you should do.

You should confront him. You should demand answers and then finally say what you need to say to him. Not for him, not for his sake, but for yours. But you can’t. You've lost count of how many times you've picked up the phone and your thumb hovered over his contact to call him but you just can’t bring yourself to do it. And every time you tried to text him, to start a conversation, it felt too awkward. The only acceptable subject of discussion initiated by you was the progress of the divorce papers. You were unable to even remotely insinuate a more meaningful encounter. And he didn’t make any advances either. Not that you gave him any room to try and talk to you, but still, he seemed more settled with that, rather than not.

Maybe that fact itself was your cue to let it all go. He’s probably moved on. You don’t cheat on someone so blatantly and then want them back. Obviously, this whole delaying of the divorce is a power play, like everything else, it seems.

Good, yeah, that’s it. That’s it.

Now, let go. Move on. You solved it. Let go.

But this annoying little voice is scratching the walls of your weary brain, nudging the limits of the carefully made up serenity that’s hanging by a thread.

You should confront him. For your peace of mind, for your equilibrium.

But it’s nice here. Even between the earth and the sky.

Joel, will you please sign the papers?

It’s early in the evening and you’re in the garden in front of the house near the porch, on your knees, plucking a few weeds from the ground. The fatigue of the day’s work has begun to take its toll on you, your shoulder is slightly trembling as you rest your weight on one palm to dig around with the other. Sweat covers your torso, rolling down between the valley of your breasts and the hollow between your spine, leaving your t-shirt clinging to your skin, your hair sticking to your forehead, which is lightly covered in a thin layer of dirt at some places as you keep wiping your forearm over the little beads of salty water that concentrate over your brows.

You feel him before you see him. He’s still taking up space in your micro-universe. His sole presence creates ripples through the atmosphere as he walks towards you, softly nudging you to turn your head from your spot to look behind you.

There's an overload of sensations before you shift your body around to confirm what you already know in your bones. You can smell him, taste him, feel him on your suddenly tingling skin, all at the same time.

You turn slowly and your breath hitches on your throat. You just stay in place, frozen, time infinitely stretching as you take him in from where you kneel on the ground. He stops abruptly the second his eyes meet yours and you could swear he’s holding his breath, his face completely unreadable.

He looks.. he looks like your Joel and nothing like him simultaneously. Soft yet imposing. Handsome yet battered. Determined yet lost. His clothing is simpler, dark jeans, green flannel over a black t-shirt and laced boots, as if he just returned from a working site. His curls are longer, framing his handsome face in a ridiculously good way, more white hairs nestle in his beard that is not that trimmed. Neither of you speak quite yet, taking each other in.

Your mind, your bizarre, ridiculous mind is working on figuring out what day it is. Why does it matter? Did you have an appointment? This is unexpected and a long time coming all at once, regardless of the day of the week. What comes next? Do you draw up an astrological map to determine if it's a compatible date for you to meet? Get it together.

Your facial expression must be pretty funny because Joel smiles awkwardly while scratching one side of his bearded cheek; hey, it’s me.

No, shit, you mentally respond, as if you could ever forget him. Furious is the word that best describes you because these are his first words? Hey, it’s me? And that feeling escalates into an explosive retort because you now realize that you had expectations. His first words? Who cares what his first words are? Were you expecting a tearful reunion, masterfully staged and executed like a romantic film? The guy betrayed you in your own house, sorry, his house. Wake the fuck up.

“Did you sign the papers?” you spit as you rise from your spot and he reacts as if you have punched him in the stomach. His face falls; you see a series of micro-expressions pass over his features before he settles on the last one. Has he been hurt? Did you hurt his feelings? Did he also have expectations?

“Uh-”, Joel raises his brows in genuine surprise, things probably not going the way he expected or hoped.

“It’s nice to see you, too.”, he replies with mild mockery.

Your eyes snap shut and you laugh in anger, lowering your chin to your chest and then looking back up at him, your eyes blazing, your brows mimicking his previously surprised expression, “Are you serious right now?” you cross your hands defensively over your chest.

You stare at each other for a good minute, both of you taking a moment to compose yourselves and regain your balance.

You break first, dropping your head back to your chest, looking down at the heel of your shoe scraping the ground beneath you, exhaling audibly.

“Hey,” Joel tries again, after speaking your name tenderly, your name on his lips, his head dipping down and to the side to try and get your attention back to him, his gaze filled with a mixture of warmth, regret and fear, “hi.”

You shake your head from side to side in repentance, what a great start this is, you keep thinking, “Hi.” is all you give him, still not looking at him.

“Hi,” he repeats, “it’s really nice to see you, bab-, shit, sorry.”, he winces, covering his mouth with his palm, embarrassment creeping into his features. You let out a quiet laugh, exhaling through your nose. You don’t comment on the slip of endearment that leaves his mouth, you don’t correct him, accepting privately that you liked it, you missed it, you longed for it.

Joel studies your face, but makes no comment on your silence. “You look...” he pauses for a split second before deciding to continue, “you look really good.” He hesitates, he doesn't want his compliment to come across as a feeble attempt to patronize you, because he really means it. You do look good, all sweaty and muddy and human and real. You are real. If he took a few steps forward, he could actually reach out and touch you, feel your skin under his fingertips, smell your heady scent, perhaps discreetly lick the remnants of your sweat from his thumb after carefully removing the strands of hair sticking on your forehead. But he doesn’t do that. He doesn’t do any of that.

You don’t quite know how to respond to that, any answer crossing your mind seems stupid or cheesy or dismissive. How do you respond to a compliment from the man who made you worship in his altar, only to have your faith ripped out of your heart?

His eyes keep roaming over your face, your figure, memorizing everything he can, like a blind man who has finally found his light, while he fidgets with an envelope in his hand which reminds you-

“Did you sign the papers, Joel?”, is what escapes your lips before you can think twice.

“No.” and now it’s his turn to lower his head, his eyes avoiding your gaze, as he looks down at his feet.

“Joel!”, you exclaim infuriated, rolling your eyes at him, knitting your brows together in a sign of frustration.

“No, no, it’s not like that. I’ll do it. I’ll do whatever you want.”, Joel raises a hand in your direction to stop you from what seems to be a fair assumption, his palm up, facing you in an unspoken surrender. “I thought that- me, not signing, was a way of showing you how deeply sorry I am, how much I wanted to fix our marriage, but I understand now,” his voice wavers slightly, “that I need to respect your wishes. It’s the right thing to do. If this is still what you want, I’m gonna sign it.”

You don’t reply to that last part, only pointing out that “You didn’t have to come all this way to tell me that.”

“No, I didn’t.” Joel agrees.

“Then why are you here?” you insist, reluctant to entertain the idea that he has actually come all this way to apologize.

“Because I owe you an explanation.” is his honest and direct answer, sending little jolts of electricity through your nerves.

“Joel..” you sigh in exasperation. Not in warning or frustration, not really, but in something else. A feeling you can’t really put a name to, the closest you can come to describing it is that of a burden, woven deep into your heart, blossoming rapidly with each beat. There are so many things left unsaid; it makes you feel helpless, like you’re drowning. You want the dam you’ve built around your soul over the years to break so everything you've been holding back can finally pour out of you, but there’s just so much of it, of everything, that you’re terrified. Will the overflowing tank of emotions be completely empty? Will there be anything left unsaid? Untouched? What if the remnants left behind keep licking around your wounds, their waves pushing, shaping what’s left of you into something new, unrecognizable?

And what if, the tank will indeed be completely empty? What you’ll be left with, then? Nothing? Just.. empty? Will you remain empty? What, if anything, will take its place? Will you recognize your new self? Will you like yourself? Will you be able to live in harmony with this shell of a person? This you; you know. You hated and pitied and caressed and comforted and forgave and nurtured you into some version of a new you. But this? Everything will be torn apart, the wounds will be freshly opened, accessible to be examined in detail, plucked and bled and bruised in an all-too-familiar way.

Joel’s voice snaps you out of your trance, “No, I do. I owe you more than that, actually, but that’s the least I can do. And I wanna do that while I’m still your husband. I want to explain myself as your husband. Apologize to my wife, as her husband. Then I’m gonna sign anything you want me to.”

“And if I don’t wanna hear what you have to say?”

“Then I’ll just sign the papers and leave you in peace.” Joel confesses in all his honesty.

You just nod, looking down on the ground. You take a deep breath to ground yourself. You can do this. You want to do this. You need to do this.

You walk towards the house and sit down on the steps of the porch, as he looks at you awkwardly, not knowing where to stand. You gesture with a tilt of your head for him to come sit next to you. You can do this. You realize that you didn’t invite him into the house and you feel a bit rude for that, but it's beyond your empathetic capacity to deal with him being here and to let him into the house as well. “I just like it out here, it’s calm and-”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me, whatever makes you feel comfortable; I know you don’t want me here any longer than I have to be..” he interrupts you as he sits down next to you, his one side pressing against the end of the stairs, where the railing begins. He places the contract between your bodies, on the wooden floor.

It makes you uncomfortable, his statement, you always want people to feel welcome and relaxed around you. You internally chastise yourself for worrying about his feelings instead of yours, but you can’t help it, it’s embedded in your DNA. “It’s OK, Joel, I don’t mind, we can talk.”

Joel nods, but he remains silent. You don’t break the silence, giving him time to collect his thoughts. He chuckles defeated, shaking his head while rubbing his hand over his face.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, you don’t look that mighty to me anymore.” you blurt out before you can stop yourself and you immediately regret it. It didn’t sound so insulting in your head. You only meant to say that he doesn’t intimidate you anymore. Which is sort of a lie and a truth at the same time. You used to find him imposing, even his mere presence had the ability to make your skin crawl, your heart flutter and your words get catch in your dry throat, you were in awe of him. Every time you laid your eyes at him, even when you were straddling his lap or gazing at his profile as he slept beside you, you always felt as if you were looking up. You admired him.

His heart loses several beats to that. He can read between your lines now. He has lost your respect. Your admiration. The time when you looked up to him in awe is long gone.

“You know, my therapist warned me about this.”, he chuckles bitterly.

“Your-” you can’t hide your shocked expression from him as you search his eyes for any sign of him joking around, but you find none. “You’ve been in therapy?”

“Yeah, I-, I spent two years hating myself,” he chuckles deprecatingly, “and then I realized it was time for me to stop being an arrogant prick, so I spent another two doing it all over again with the help of my therapist.”

You laugh wholeheartedly at that and it’s the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen in his entire life. “OK, somebody’s off to a good start. Go on.”

“You mean about the therapy?”

“I mean about you admitting you are an arrogant prick”, you say playfully.

He really laughs now, his eyes crinkle up at the sides. You used to love that. You feel your heart warming up. “You can thank Maria for that.”

“For what?”

“For kicking my ass and pushing me to help myself.” Joel admits. “She’s a good friend.”

“Yeah, she is.” you agree through your laughter, the image of Maria actually kicking Joel’s ass is priceless.

“I missed that sound.” Joel is looking at you softly, as if his gaze could break you.

“Hm.” you simply smile at him, not finding it in you to respond with a snide remark. The time for that feels like it has passed, like it’s irrelevant at this point. All you really want is to have an honest conversation, irony be damned.

You both look at your feet in silent consideration for a minute or two. “I thought you’d be mad at me.” Joel reveals.

You exhale through your nose, the edges of your mouth turning up in a gentle smile. “Four years is a long time to be mad at anyone, Joel. Even you don’t have that kind of power over me.”

“Good. I have enough burden on my shoulders as it is..”, he mumbles and you decide to change the subject.

How do you admit that you are still mad at him but in a different way? How do you describe the deep scar his existence has carved into your soul making it almost unbearable to even exist without him? How do you explain that you’ll always carry him with you, no matter what? How do you instill in him that you still believe in the best version of him, the best version you know he can be, the best version of him you once lived with. Yes, you’re not mad at him for the reasons he thinks you are. You’re mad at him because the way he made you love him is stronger than any hurt he’s ever caused you.

“So, what did your therapist warn you about?”

“She, uh- she tried to prepare me for this.”

“Oh? What did she say?”

“That I should not be prepared.”, he laughs in earnest. “That I should not obsess about what I want to say and just be open and have an honest interaction.”

“I like her, already.” you say with a straight face.

He smiles softly, looking down at his boots, while he rests his elbows on his knees, one palm encircling the other. “Yeah… I had some digging to do; I still do for that matter and will be for a long time it seems.”

“Anything you wanna share?” you reply, raising an eyebrow as if you had no idea why he was here.

“Oh, boy-” he squirms in his seat, already overwhelmed by the turn of the conversation, his chest almost vibrating with anxiety, he can barely swallow, small beads of sweat starting to form around his temples. You reluctantly reach for his forearm, trying to calm him down. “Hey, Joel?”

His whole body stiffens at your touch and he wishes his clothes would evaporate so he could feel your skin against his. He fixes his eyes on your delicate fingers lightly squeezing his tight muscles underneath the fabric. “The worst part has already happened four years ago, so-” you shrug, “just breathe.” Joel keeps his eyes on your hand, his heart rate dropping slightly; you ground him. You retract your arm and keep your hands to yourself in an effort to maintain a respectable distance between you. You shouldn’t have touched him at all.

“I think- I think I understand now.” he begins, still feeling the ghost of your touch on his forearm. “How I made you feel, what your words meant. You always did that, you know. And I found it so fascinating and so exhausting at the same time.”

You look at him, confused. Joel continues, “You always chose your words carefully. You had a reason for every single thing you said. In retrospect, I realized that you were handing me everything on a silver platter, but I was too self-absorbed to see it at the time.”

You nod in agreement, gesturing with your head for him to keep going.

Joel takes a deep breath, holding it inside his lungs for a while. His exhalation is controlled, measured. “Fuck. Okay. It was not just the fact itself. It was not just the cheatin’.”

Your stomach clenches violently at his words. The time has finally come and although you know what happened, you where there, when the words come out of Joel’s mouth it's as if you're pulled back to that threshold all over again. It really happened. You feel your hands sweating. “Go on.”, you pronounce carefully, already anxious your voice is going to betray you. You can do this.

“I don’t want to sound all full of myself-” Joel hesitates.

“You won’t.” you interrupt him with conviction. The truth has never frightened you. You welcome it. It feels like a form of catharsis, it feels like you’re finally being seen. Every nerve in your body is on fire. You’re ready for this, for the truth, if only he gives it to you. Please, set me free.

“I was your everything.” he whispers, almost embarrassed, his eyes not meeting yours. You don’t respond to that, not until he looks at you, although the admission shoots straight through your heart. You stare at the side of his face, almost forcing him to turn to you. He does.

“You were.” Simple. True. Clear as the light of day.

“And I ripped that from you.”

“You did.”

“In the worst possible way.”

“Hmhm.”, you don’t trust the stability of your voice.

“And no matter what I say, I can never take back what I did. I humiliated you, our home, our relationship, everything. I-” his brows furrow in an expression of disgust, “I disrespected myself. I burned everything down. I left nothing for you to hold on to, nothing for me to hope for, nothing.”

His chin trembles and his voice wavers as he continues. “The words to describe how sorry I am have not yet been invented. And even if they had, they still couldn’t take the pain away; what’s done, is done.”

He closes his eyes and rests his head on the railing. “I don’t know what I wish for anymore. That you had never met me, so you could be spared all this pain? But I can’t. I can’t wish that, because I’m so grateful to have met you. I married you, I had you. That is what has comforted me all these years, what has got me through all those sleepless nights.” He looks absolutely devastated, desperate.

It feels genuine, because he’s not directing it at you, he’s not trying to convince you, he’s not trying at all. “I have not thought about my pain or what I want from all this for a long time. All I pray for is-” his glistening eyes are searching frantically on the ground, his brows knitted together in a painful grimace. You rest your head on the palm of your hand, your elbow on your knee. Watching this moment like an outside observer, you realize that he's trying to live up to your standards, reminding you of a child trying to impress his parents, only to fail regardless of the outcome.

“Look, Joel, couples break up, divorce, all over the world, all the time. And I guess, they all thought their partners were their everything until they finally weren’t.”, you rationalize, putting everything that has happened into some kind of perspective. It is not the end of the world. It is the end of your world. He doesn’t have to carry this burden on his shoulders for eternity. All you need from him is to understand, to acknowledge what he's done to you, how broken you’ve been.

But if he acknowledges that, if he truly comprehends the tremendous pain he’s put you through, won’t all that anguish be transferred to him? Isn't it unbearable for a truly repentant man to know that he has deliberately caused so much pain?

“But, you see; I wanted that, I needed to be your everything.”

“It certainly fed your ego..” you grin at him.

“No, no- I craved that- that look on your face when your eyes were on me, like there was nothing else, no one else around you, but me. You drove me to be better, to move forward; I felt I had a purpose. You were my purpose.”

“Well I didn’t do much of a job then, did I?” you smile defeated.

“No, honey, this-” he’s determined to make you understand that it wasn't your fault, even if it is the last thing he is going to do. He licks his lips trying to formulate his thoughts, “-what happened, had nothing to do with you, I- I was just- I got in my head..”

You shake your head dismissively, “It’s a terrible burden to put people on a pedestal and expect them to-”

“But you see, baby, that’s the thing. You didn’t.”Joel dismisses your comment and if a bucket of ice-cold water was thrown over your head you wouldn’t feel so frozen. You search his eyes for meaning, because deep down it stings to hear that you could give more. Is that what he’s saying? You didn’t love him enough? Joel catches on and rushes to explain. “You-” god this is so hard, he’s struggling, can’t he just rip his heart open and let you examine it? “You loved me so much, baby and you never asked for anything in return. You let me be who I was. You accepted me completely. You set me free.” His eyes are blown wide, burning into yours with intensity. You look so lost, how does all this fit in with what he did then?

“Darlin’,” he expands further, “we live in a competitive world. Everyone aims to control each other, from business partners to lovers and spouses; everyone manipulates, everyone tries to tell you where to look, what to do, how to act, how to fuck, how to love. Except for you. You let me be. You put your heart in my hands and you set me free. And I took advantage of that and I am truly sorry. I’m more sorry than you’ll ever know. That’s how fucked up I am.” you look at him dumbfounded.

“I can’t connect the dots; I don’t get it, Joel, I’m sorry, I-” you run your fingers through your hair, scratching your scalp in frustration. What does he mean?

Joel winces mid-sentence because he can’t escape what’s coming. This is his last resort. And he knows it is going to sound cruel and he doesn’t even mean the first part the way you're going to perceive it, but for lack of better words, for lack of the better person he could have been, a person who should have never put you in this position in the first place, here goes.

“She made me feel wanted; you made me feel free.”,

he spits out in a hurry, praying to whatever god is listening, that you won’t even catch it, knowing full well that these may be the last words you'll ever let him speak to you.

You are utterly, completely, perfectly shocked.

Then you feel it for the first time in what feels like ages. That old friend consuming you. Rage. It burns your lungs, twists your guts and pierces your heart like a thousand needles. Everything becomes crystal clear. You’re so infuriated, that your mind goes blank. A million words and nothing at all come to your mind simultaneously.

“Let me- let me rephrase that, because actually it was never even about her, I just-” Joel begins, in a vain attempt to stop the tide from crushing you both.

Your palms become clenched fists in front of your mouth, pressing against it, crushing the velvety skin of the inside of your lips against your teeth until you draw blood, in an effort to control yourself. You inhale sharply, keeping your eyes fixed on the land in front of you, blurred by the tears gathering in your waterline.

“She- what?” are the only words you manage to choke out.

“Baby, it doesn’t matter, it was never about her, she was a means to an end and-” your eyes bulge out of your sockets at the statement, “I know- I know how that sounds- just-” his palms come together in a prayerful gesture, begging you to give him a chance to explain.

“A means to an- what the fuck are you talking about, Joel?” the veins on your forehead swell under your skin, creating a map of the river of wrath flowing aggressively through your body.

“It was never an affair sweetheart, but a transaction; one I initiated. She was only a boost to my ego.”

..she made me feel wanted..

..a boost to my ego..

It's all starting to make sense now, and it's the last thing you expect to be confronted with. You've always imagined either a heated affair, a secret love story, him realizing he had found his soul mate in someone else, or him getting bored with you, finding you too much or too emotional or too unlovable. It turns out that you were accused of the one thing you never were.

“Are you-, oh god,” you can hear your heart pounding in your ears now and it takes every ounce of strength not to vomit, “are you saying that you fucked someone else; you fucked your secretary for fuck’s sake, you fuckin’ cliché of a man, because I wasn’t jealous of you?”. Your throat is so swollen, you try to scream your words at him but they only come out in wrenched whispers.

You stand up abruptly, dizziness causing you to close your eyes tightly as you see a million white dots behind the blackness of your eyelids. Your whole body vibrates with rage. You steady yourself on the railing and then begin to pace back and forth, your hands unable to stay motionless, but moving over your face, through your hair, lowering and squeezing the sides of your waist as you lean slightly forward in a subconscious way to soothe yourself.

“Oh my god, oh my fucking god,” you laugh hysterically now, as angry tears run down your cheeks, as if you've been let in on an inside joke. “It’s my fault, everything is my fault-”

Joel is frozen in place, he’s not sure if he should get up and try to reason with you or stay where he is.. or run for the hills. He’s witnessing the unleashing of a caged animal. His tongue feels heavy and numb in the cavern of his mouth but he dares to speak again, “That’s the exact opposite of what I said, sweetheart,” he tries to explain in vain, “I’m sorry if that’s what I-” but you’re not listening to a single word he utters.

“People kept telling me, urging me on, all my life;” and you slap your palms on the sides of your thighs, looking at his direction, but not really looking, “I should be more controlling, more pushy, more..” your voice begins to fade, muttering to yourself through your teeth. “They warned me, you know, that the lack of pressure in any kind of relationship would be perceived as a lack of interest.”

Don't trust completely; hold something back; men like the illusion of power; show them you need them; make them jealous; be jealous, like a manual to a pre-installed setting.

Do you agree to the Terms & Conditions?

Press ‘Enter.’

“But I didn’t listen. I never listened. Because in what world do we choose a leash over freedom?” You turn to look at him now, addressing him as if you were talking to a third party, an outsider, asking for advise or affirmation.

Maria’s words come back to Joel’s mind, words that he had long forgotten about, finally fitting like missing pieces of a puzzle to the bigger picture.

“Maybe the wrong Miller is on a leash..”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Means that freedom is for those who can bear it.”

“I was really stupid, was I not? What on earth made me think that this time would be any different, what made me think that you’d be any different? You’re just- you’re just another man-” you spit your vile angrily as your eyes sweep over him. The look in his eyes is devastated, he feels shuttered, reduced to nothing.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid little girl. When the fuck will I learn? When the fuck am I going to accept that I don't really belong? When?”

Joel is staring at you bewildered, he never felt more helpless in his life. A thousand new thoughts and questions form in your head, things you didn’t even begin to imagine would cross your mind.

“Did you use her?” you ask with renewed vigor, a surge of energy running through your body.

Joel’s cheeks burn with humiliation but he has already admitted it once, what will it do to him to say it one more time? “Yes, I never had any feelings f-”

“No,” you interrupt impatiently, you don't care about his feelings right fuckin' now, “that night, did you use her? On purpose?”

Joel looks lost for a second but the cogs in his head finally turn and “NO! No baby, I wasn’t even aware of you coming home earlier than expected, no. Don’t even entertain this idea; it wasn’t intentional, I swear to god.”

Oh. There’s a new question for Joel. Why did you leave your business trip early? He had never thought about it before, solely focused on everything else that had happened, which now made him wonder, “Did you- did you know?”

“What?” you frown, lost in your own thoughts, not following his line of logic.

“Did you know? Is that why you came back early from your trip?”

You’re still a bit too far gone in your head to think clearly and try to prevent the next question from coming, “Of course I didn’t know, Joel, did it look like I did?” is all you say with a bite, annoyed.

“Then why-” Joel insists, pressuring you for an answer, but he doesn’t get to finish his sentence.

“I- fuck- I need a minute.” you declare and start to walk towards the house.

Joel waited on that porch for almost an hour, watching the sun set behind the mountain, afraid to move, barely breathing in case you stormed out and threw him back where he came from as if him standing still would somehow make him part of the landscape; as if he belonged.

And you certainly delivered.

He hears the screen door open, his back still to the house. You are standing behind him, your arms crossed stiffly over your chest, your face tilted down, to avoid his gaze. He could see the red-rimmed and swollen eyes of yours, despite your efforts to hide them.

“I can’t do this-”

“Please,” his whole face contorts in agony, “please, hear me-” you both speak at the same time.

“-tonight.”

“What?” his voice matching the look of confusion on his face.

“Maybe another time, but not tonight.”

“I-” he doesn’t know how to articulate his thoughts without sounding like an idiot. He drove all this way, four hours straight, to finally get things straight. His brain has short-circuited, unable to put a plan into action. Should he check into a hotel or a motel or whatever the fuck is around here in the middle of nowhere? Should he go back to his place? Do you really want to talk again? You sort of said you did. You said maybe. Fuck. What does he do?

But honestly, what did he expect? That this would be over in the course of one evening? Of course he would have to come back. His eyes are fixed on yours like a deer caught in the headlights. “I came all this way-” he mumbles, choking on the last part, already regretting the words that came out of his mouth.

“Well, too bad.” you spit emotionless as you turn and head for the safety of your house, leaving him stunned on the goddamn porch.

Joel returned the next evening, but you weren't there. He made the four hour journey and came back empty-handed. And you weren't there the next evening, or the evening after that. But he kept on driving the miles, hot wheels under the Texas sun. He didn’t check in anywhere near your small town. He went back home and then back to you again.

The last time he found nothing but a closed door, he finally got the message, so the next time he left the house, before he turned on the ignition, he texted you, as a sign of respect for your boundaries.

Is it all right if I come and see you?

Backspacebackspacebackspace

Is it OK if I come and talk?

And the answer was

Not today.

So, every day he texted you. He didn’t mean to be intrusive, he just wanted to remind you that you were never far from his thoughts, that he was always ready and eager to finish what he started.

You denied him for quite some time. You couldn’t bring yourself to face him again. The confessions he made have knocked you off your axis. Just when you finally felt like everything was falling into place, he dropped this bombshell, making you rethink everything you thought you knew and had sorted out in your mind. You just couldn’t wrap your head around what you’d heard coming out of his mouth. How could he think like that? Why couldn’t he just talk to you? You used to talk about everything; what the fuck happened? How did you not see that coming?

You were sure that he would give up, that he would stop bothering to contact you at all. Was it the monster of self-deprecation? Was it a deep disappointment in human beings and their general lack of persistence in trying to nurture and repair a relationship, or at least trying to give it a proper closure? You didn’t give it much thought afraid of the answer you might get. But you kept saying Not today, until one day, for some reason-

Can we talk?

Yes.

Joel’s heart is beating through his chest so rapidly, he has to cough to regain some of his composure. He almost drops his phone, trying to confirm the most convenient time for you before you change your mind.

That was the first Yes after the day you saw him again. You weren’t sure what you wanted to talk about; if you could pick up exactly where you left off. You weren’t even sure you could look him in the eye again, but you had to see this through.

When you hear the sound of his engine and tires on the dirt road, you take a deep breath and walk out of the house to wait for him on the porch.

“Come on in, I’m cooking dinner.” you announce as you open the screen door for him to enter the house.

“Are you sure?”, Joel is taken aback, he thought the inside of your house was strictly off-limits to him. You were also cooking dinner as if he was an old friend visiting you. He couldn’t help but wonder if he should lower his defenses or not but with the way you looked tonight you didn’t give him much of a choice.

You’re wearing a pair of warm cream jeans, paired with a white front tie shirt, the first few buttons left open, giving him a glimpse of your tanned sternum. It almost looks like a man’s shirt, just messily tied up over your soft skin, revealing bits of your stomach. Could it be another man’s shirt?

You are barefoot. The nails of your toes are painted in a fresh glossy black color. Your hair is casually tied up in a messy bun, loose strands falling around your beaming face. Joel has to restrain himself from pushing you against the wall and fucking you on the spot, by clenching and unclenching his fists. His mouth is salivating at the sight of you, excitement building in his groin. It's been so long since he's felt this way, a different kind of hunger is growing in him at a rapid pace, as if something buried deep inside his masculinity has just awakened from hibernation.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” you quirk back at him, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world, what you’re both doing. “I’m starving. Coming?” you leave him at the entrance and go back into the house.

“You have a beautiful home.”, Joel admits as he takes in his surroundings, thinking that this is going better than he expected. He also can't help but prepare himself for the fact that this might not end the same way.

“Thank you.” you laugh nervously.

“What?”, he catches the note of disbelief in your voice. “I'm serious, the light is just right, it’s open and warm; it actually reminds me of you.” he says matter-of-factly.

“No, no, I know you mean it, it’s just- I guess it’s high praise, coming from you.” you admit. You always admired what he did for a living and how good he was at it and him seeing your place for the first time gave you another reason to feel kind of nervous.

“Oh, come on, none of that now.” he dismisses the compliment, his voice wavering slightly at the praise.

“Well it’s true, you are excellent at what you do, I mean, the house you built is a work of art and that’s a fact.”

“Which one?”, although he knows exactly which one, he presses on.

“The one we used to live in, together.” You can’t call it your house. You cannot. The mere thought of it makes your tongue feel like it’s on fire.

“Oh.”, Joel smiles as he presses his lips together in a thin line, “You mean our house. It was built out of love, that's why. It's the one I'm most proud of.”

“Hm.”, is all you give him. Déjà vu brings back memories out of the closet -pun intended- for both of you.

“Ok, now you really have to tell me. What is it?”, Joel crosses his forearms over his chest. He has to know.

“What do you mean?”, you try to buy some more time, cause you’re not so sure you want to go in there.

“You had the exact same reaction when I mentioned that, four years ago.”

“Ah, that.”

“Yeah, that.”

“It’s just- it always felt like it reflected your personality rather than mine. Or at least ours.”

Joel looks at you perplexed.

“I’m not complaining, I mean, how many people can claim that their husband built them a house the size of a small hotel as a wedding present?” you chuckle while you continue as nonchalantly as you can muster, “I would have lived in a cave with you, Joel, you didn’t have to go to these lengths to house two people. If you want my honest opinion, this was an ego project. I let it slide because it made you happy. And I liked you happy.” Joel looks stunned, his eyes darting back and forth between yours.

“Baby, I- I wanted to make you happy, to give you the best I could-”

“Joel, I’m not judging you. I am not. But you didn’t show me a single blueprint while you were designing the damn thing. You didn’t ask me what I wanted or how I imagined it. Sure, you equipped it with all the best stuff money could buy, but you never asked me what I thought about it. Not really.”, you see the hurt in his eyes and it unsettles you, but now the rabbit is out of the hat. “Again, I’m not judging you and I’m not being ungrateful, all I’m saying is that for some reason you needed your shinny new wife to live in a shinny new castle. It was a prestige thing. Just think about it.”

“Jesus..” Joel mutters, pinching the sides of his forehead with one hand, feeling defeated.

“Hey,” you give him a wry look, “I tried to avoid answering that question for four years. You were the one who insisted.” you defend yourself, clearly amused by his reaction.

“What else do I need to know?”, Joel wonders in a desperate manner.

“Well.. for how long can you keep coming back?” you joke absentmindedly.

“For the rest of my life..” Joel answers a little too quickly, not a hint of playfulness in his voice.

Your heart tightens at his eagerness, forcing you to admit a consideration that you have had more than a few times before. “You know,” you look over at him, lost in thought, almost like reminiscing, “sometimes I wish I had met you before your company took off.” You snap out of your daydream and consciously look at him and he looks pained as if some kind of realization has hit him. You change the subject for the sake of both of you. “Anyway, speaking of which, how is work? I heard you closed that deal, after all.” you grin mischievously.

“Yeah, I did.”, his voice takes on a strange timbre, almost like regret. But you’re not so sure about anything these days, so you let it pass. He puts the envelope with the contract on the counter in the kitchen and sits down in the chair next to the table already set for dinner.

“Good, that’s good. Let me guess, you’re all over it? First in, last out? Is it almost done?” you word vomit to cover your nervousness.

“Uh,” Joel rubs the back of his neck, “I wouldn’t know.” is all he gives you, clearly trying to avoid getting involved in the discussion.

“Um, you don’t know?”, you laugh lightly in confusion. “How is that possible?”, you ask stirring the vegetables in the pan.

“I’m not involved in the project and I have no idea about the status of the construction;” Joel answers your question and continues, revealing, “I quit. Sold my shares and got out.”

“Yeah,” you draw the vowels, still not looking in his direction, “right. Big, mighty Joel Miller left his enterprise-” you laugh mockingly, but you are met with silence. “You’re joking, right?” You turn to look at him, not believing what you have just heard. You feel your blood freeze in your veins.

Joel shakes his head in denial, “I’ve actually left the city and the only reason I haven’t sold every asset in my name is in case you want to claim any of them. They’re all yours if you want ‘em.” Your mouth is slightly agape, as you try to process what has just been delivered to you.

You open your mouth to protest but he beats you to it, by raising his hand to stop you. “I know you don’t want anything from me, but that doesn’t change the fact that I don’t want them either. Not without you. Just take them. Burn them for all I care, liquidate them and use the money as you see fit.”, Joel insists, trying to find ways to convince you.

“You can do that yourself, Joel.” is all you say; you don’t give a damn about his money. Joel nods and leaves it at that, he knows better than to talk about money right now.

You’re curious where he lives now, but you’re not sure it’s appropriate to ask, so you don’t. You prepare dinner and make small talk about simple things like your lives over the past four years. Joel asks you about the ranch, the horses, the chores; you ask him about Tommy and Maria, their newborn son, whom you haven't had a chance to meet yet. None of you dare to break the bubble of normality in which you have effortlessly found yourselves.

It feels like coming home after a long day, the way you both fall into a comfortable silence. Joel speaks your name softly, drawing your attention and your gaze back to him. “What are we doing here?”

“We’re eating?” Just a little longer, let me have it just a little longer.

“Yeah,” he chuckles, “no, I mean, what are we doing?” he gestures with his fingers between him and you.

You look at him and then at your plate, playing around with your food, lost in thought. How do you acknowledge that? How do you confess that you’re trying to stretch time? How do you admit that you’re scared out of your mind of how it's all going to end? How do you even come to terms with the fact that you’re not sure you want any of this to end? How do you accept how natural it feels to have him back in your life? How do you admit that after four years the pain has never stopped, but the force, the roughness of it has changed into something softer, yet persistent; never quite going away, lingering.

How do you admit that all the good memories are emerging, because that’s what the mind does, that’s how it protects you, that’s how it helps you survive another day, that’s how it tricks you into falling back into a comfortable routine with him. Even if what binds you together now is his betrayal. How do you admit that you’re afraid of what will become of you once you've finished confessing your truths?

Will he cease to exist for you? Will you cease to exist for him? Will he ever bother to contact you again? Do you really want him to? Will you matter to him or will he move on, start again and shake off the last vestiges of your life together?

Or maybe- maybe he has moved on with his life and that's why he's doing all this, putting all this effort into it. Maybe he is preparing a new, clear path for himself and whoever is in his life right now. Is it her? Is it still, her?

You’re spiraling, lost in your thoughts, biting your lower lip anxiously, like a snake eating its own tail. “Baby?” his baritone voice snaps you out of it, he must have called you several times before you heard him, suddenly aware of hot, fat tears streaming down your face, his thumbs gently brushing them from your cheeks.

You let out a shuddering breath; it’s the first time he’s touched you, in so, so long. And here he is again. The familiar, old friend. He’s pounding on your door now, relentless as he is, screaming for you to let him in, lead the way, take charge, take care of you. You can almost feel his maniacal banging, vibrating through your chest, let me in, let me in, let me in.

Let me in, better angry than scared.

Better angry than scared.

Your shoulders slump, your head feels unbearably heavy. The world has stopped moving. The world is moving too fast. You savor his features as he leans further in, his intoxicating scent filling your nostrils, his eyes pleading, the brown of his irises inviting you to let him in. Joel’s face is that of a man still in love as he continues to caress your skin and you let him.

You let him, because you are a weak person.

You let him because you have been deprived of his touch, of any touch really, for far too long.

You let him because you want to have something for yourself, selfishly.

You let him, because for once you just want to take. Take, take, take.

You let him because you just want to be held and touched and loved.

And even though your mind knows that you shouldn’t want all that from him, your heart allows you that little moment.

“Joel, I’m tired.” you begin, your voice breaking as fresh tears run down your face and onto his thumbs. “Tired to my bones. All I want is to be honest with each other. Do you think we can do that? Can we talk like two adults with nothing left to lose? Can we just be truthful to each other? I know there’s too much history between us, too much hurt and resentment but we both have to try and put it all behind us. I can’t go on like this.”

There’s a stillness in him, realization and clarity dawning on him. He thinks he understands now and it shocks him somehow, as a fact, that there are still things to uncover, to revel in, to acknowledge. Every time he thinks he’s reached the end of this journey, a new sun rises over the horizon.

You don’t need the specifics of his action, at least not right now, or not anymore. What you need is closure. True, honest closure. And that can only come from him baring himself to you. “Yeah, yeah, we can do that. We can do anything you want, baby.”, he squeezes his eyes shut, knowing where to begin, but resisting the thought. He leans back in his seat, dropping his hands from your face as he lets out the breath he seems to be holding in and begins.

“Remember that night before your business trip when you came to my office?”

“Uh, yeah? I guess.”, what a strange thing to mention, you think confused. “What about it?”

“You came to me for sex.”, Joel says bluntly, no need to beat around the bush. This is it. This is how he loses you. Once again.

You stare at him and then, for some reason, look down in embarrassment. You’ve fucked him in almost every way you can think of and now the very admission of that fact makes you feel like an exposed nerve. It dawns on you, how far away this era has slipped away. You feel vulnerable as if you’re talking to a total stranger about your most intimate moments. At the same time, you still know exactly how to touch him, how to please him and a light warmth begins to shimmer inside you.

“Well, that’s one way of putting it, but- yeah..”, you admit, still nervously picking at your food with your fork.

Joel sees your apprehension but he presses on. This is what you asked for. “And I refused you.” The look on your face betrays your confusion. Where is he going with this? Only now, he sees more. He can finally see more. The hurt. The disappointment. “What happened next?” is his next question and does he really think that you can remember all these years later? Does he honestly believe that you can recall yourself leaving his office defeated and crying yourself to sleep? “I don’t remember.” you lie, shrugging your shoulders as convincingly as you can muster.

“You said you loved me and then you left.”, Joel reminds you.

“You- you remember all that?”, your eyes are wide and the look on your face vulnerable, Joel wants to pause it all and hold you in his arms.

“I can’t seem to forget anything about you,” he reveals, “believe me, I’ve tried.”

“What’s your point?”

“Why did you do that?”

“Uh.. why did I do what?”, you narrow your eyes in confusion.

His eyes are piercing yours, provoking you to figure it out on your own.

“Loved you?” He shakes his head almost imperceptibly.

Your eyes widen again, in surprise this time, as you finally see what he means.

“Walked away?” You’re fucking shocked to the core, your voice choked, you’re not sure you spoke out loud.

“Why didn’t you insist?”

Your mouth is wide open, you’re speechless, you flatter your eyelids in search of the right words. This is your second encounter and once again he says what you least expect him to say.

“You refused” you remind him now, “and I respected that.”, your hand moves to rest on your chest, palm open, to calm your racing heart.

“I didn’t want you to.”

“You know how that sounds, don’t you?”, you mock with a nervous laugh.

“Oh, please,” Joel is quick to respond, his brows knitted in a dismissive frown, “like you could ever force yourself on me.”

You genuinely are at a loss for words, your gaze unable to stay in one place, your mind running a million miles an hour.

Apparently you both are, because Joel is no better at explaining how he feels. “I wanted you to-”, he stops, his eyes still searching yours for the right words, pleading with you to feel him.

Oh my god. Oh. My. God.

It dawns on you. All at once. You see it all playing out. You know exactly how this conversation is going to go. “-claim you? You wanted me to claim you?”, your voice rises, as does your tone. You feel the presence of your abandoned friend again. You don’t want him here. But he creeps in through your veins, nonetheless. He is not giving up. If the pounding doesn’t work then he’ll poison you, slowly and persistently.

“From who? You were supposed to be mine!”, you exclaim exasperated, immediately correcting yourself “-not that I owned you, you know what-”

“That! That’s what I’m talking about!” Joel points his finger at you, “That’s what I needed. To be yours!”

“But you were! Are we really haggling over semantics? Of course you were mine! I just never wanted you to feel suffocated by me. You were not my possession Joel, you were my partner!”

“I swear to you, I would die a happy man, baby.”

“I- I tried so hard to control myself-” you mutter to yourself, rolling your eyes back to your head as you shake it in denial, “-all that hunger inside of me, eating me up-”

“What?” is Joel’s turn to look like a lost puppy. What the fuck is going on here?

“You,” you point a finger at him, “you were my first and last thought every passing day, it wasn’t even healthy anymore, Joel. But- I saw that look in your eyes sometimes, a hunger, one I thought mirrored mine and then it was gone in the blink of an eye and I thought that something was holding you back; I- I was holding you back. I thought- maybe I was undeserving..” you divert your eyes from him, embarrassed at your feeling of inadequacy, “So, I accepted what you gave me if it meant I could have any part of you.”

“Oh, baby..” Joel’s hiding his face in his palms and his heart breaks as he realizes where you both stand. How did the two of you get to this point? How could his judgment be so clouded, how could he be so blind to what was happening under his own roof? How could he be so arrogant as to seek validation, one he didn't even need, from someone else? Someone whose validation he didn't even care about. It didn't matter to him. She didn’t matter to him. How could he not sense the insecurity tantalizing your very core to the point of feeling inadequate? If only you had told him sooner.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you mirror his thoughts with your voice.

“What should I say to you? I couldn’t put it into words, even now I'm not sure I can. It was an all-consuming feeling, an absolute necessity, an overwhelming need that was impossible to handle. I wasn’t mentally or emotionally prepared to deal with it. I loved you with such force that it became an obsession. I couldn’t even entertain the idea that you might not want me back in the same way. I felt helpless, vulnerable. How could I come to terms with this? With the realization that I had fucked someone else just to get a rise out of you or to prove to myself that I didn't need you that much after all?”

Joel’s palms are clenched into fists on his thighs, trying to keep himself from pressing his lips against yours. Feelings and desires that had been buried in his subconscious for too long came back as he tried to make you understand.

“A r- so, you did fuck her on our bed on purpose.”

“You asked me that before, darlin’, I promise you I did not.”

“Then how would you provoke me if you didn’t mean for me to find out?” you look at him incredulously.

“I-” Joel winces, “it wasn’t a conscious thought, I just kept fantasizing about you finding out and burning the house down for me and that single image made me so h-” Joel shuts his mouth abruptly, not the best idea to describe to you how fuckin’ hard he got, fantasizing about you while fucking someone else. You, bursting into the bedroom all raging and furious, turning the whole place upside down reclaiming what was rightfully yours.

Him.

What a sick fuck he was. “I swear to you, no. I’m not that fucked up. It was a gigantic lack of judgment, I was fuckin’ drunk, my mind was a mess at that point. That whole week was-” he’s biting his tongue hard to stop himself while rubbing his forehead with his fingers, “I was just being an idiot.”

“The week I was gone?”

“Yes.”

“What about it?”

“Nothing, ‘snothing.” and he doesn’t elaborate. “Just a bad fuckin’ week.”

The atmosphere suddenly feels suffocating, as if all the words that have spilled out of both your mouths are hovering over your heads like a black cloud. You need some air to clear your mind, so you make your way out of the kitchen without looking back and walk slowly to the porch, sitting on the steps at the bottom of the stairs. You know he will follow. Your bare feet touch the soft soil beneath you and you try to ground yourself through the little patch of earth you call your own. It doesn’t quite work. There’s a beautiful golden glow, a last gift from the parting sun, warming your soul. Everything is going to be all right.

“Strange fantasies we both had.” you say as Joel seats down next to you, the contract once again a barrier between you. “You kept fantasizing about me finding out about your affair-”.

“It wasn’t an affair-” Joel corrects you. “Fine, fine. You imagined that, while I kept fantasizing me holding you so tightly while we fucked that our flesh became one; that’s how deep I needed you inside me, that’s how obsessively I wanted to carry you with me all the time, isn’t that totally fucked up?” you laugh dejectedly.

“I guess we are the same kind of fucked up. If only we could admit it to each other..”

“Did you really feel that I didn’t love you enough?” you whisper, almost too scared to be heard and to get an answer.

“I think we loved each other too much. I think we were both too afraid of losing each other. I think,” Joel pauses for a moment to gather his thoughts and calm his voice, “in our efforts to keep each other we did the exact opposite. More me than you, for sure. I have handled things badly and badly is an understatement.”

“You were always so patient with me. You’d always wait for me to come to you, to take my time. I needed the savage in you, or I thought I did at the time. That desperate thing I felt creeping out of you in stolen glances or bitten lips between your teeth, or when we fucked; no one has ever fucked me like you did. I did see all of you then, you know. And I think you saw all of me. If I made you feel confident or safe enough, you would have talked to me. And if I wasn’t so self-absorbed I would have asked.”

You never thought you’d hear these words from Joel, but all this time of self-reflection has changed him in a way that reminds you of the Joel you fell in love with. The one you could see behind all those layers of self-protection, the one you’d always hoped would emerge for you. And then he goes on, and you wish you knew what was coming so you could protect your heart from being torn to shreds.

“Maybe-” he closes his eyes looking pained, “maybe I was a narcissist. Maybe you gave me all you had and I kept wanting more, maybe I needed every part of you for myself. Maybe I needed you on your knees, on a leash, at my mercy, just to have the illusion of the certainty that you would never leave me. Maybe freedom is for those who can bear it, after all. Hell, maybe I was the one who needed the leash in the end. Maybe you gave me too much credit, my love, when you deemed me worthy of freedom.”

His words are earth-shuttering, obliterating, final. There’s nothing left to be said, at least nothing of substance. Final. The fucking word plays over and over in your head. Final. This is final. You could swear that you have felt every possible kind of pain during these four long years but new depths of agony are being discovered right now. The acid in your stomach makes your throat constrict. You feel petrified.

Joel can sense your distress, his words have been of no comfort to you. Your skin looks pale, covered with a thin layer of cold sweat; you look physically ill. Your forearms rest on your knees and he gently cups your elbow to check in on you. Are you OK? You smile weakly at him, the expression not reaching the corners of your eyes.

“You know I would give anything to take it all back, right?”

Your laughter is more lively now, not with malice or sarcasm, but with a sense of humor.

“Yeah, yeah, I think I do.”, you shake your head in twisted amusement, tilting your head up, to let the last rays of the sun warm your face, maybe bring back some of your lost color. It's getting dark now, the day is coming to an end, the curtains of the last sunlight are almost closed. Your eyes are closed too, your head still tilted back as you laugh to yourself, “You did that backwards, too, you know.”

“What?”

“You have burned everything to the ground, only to realize that you want to get it all back in one piece. I mean it’s- it’s-” you struggle to find the right words but Joel offers one of his own.

“Ridiculous..”

“I was gonna say pointless.. But that’s the thing, Joel. Choosing to be with someone is like faith. You believe because you just know. You don't have to find evidence to prove your choice at every turn, otherwise it’s just exhausting. You choose to trust yourself.”

“Trust me as your partner, you mean, not yourself.”

“Joel, it was never about trusting you..”

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand..”

“I’m not sure how to explain it- uh..”, you raise your shoulders and your brows in unison as you shake your head slightly, searching for the words. “Trust is a personal journey. ‘Trust’ doesn't mean ‘trust in you’, I’m not trusting you. No one can be sure of anyone. ‘Trust’ means that I have faith in myself, that even if you hurt me, even if you abandon me, I will not fall apart. And..” you shrug your shoulders, hugging yourself with your hands, “look at me, Joel..”, you finish, suggesting that you’re still here, still standing.

“I am, baby; I am..” Joel replies, taking in the sight of you as if it were the last time he’ll ever have the chance to, utterly compelled by your inner glow.

“I’m not mad at you Joel, not anymore. And I believe you, I really do. But I can’t get that scene out of my head. I just can’t. I can still hear the sounds, I can even recall the way you smelled when you were standing next to me.”

His hands are shaking.

“I’m not trying to hurt you, really.”

“I know.”, his voice is barely audible.

“I think you’ve done enough of that yourself. Maybe it’s time to forgive yourself?”

“Do you?” Do you, really? Do you forgive him after all that has been said? Do all these confessions illuminate the facts from a different perspective? Does it change what he did and what you went through? And if so, does that mean you're letting him go? Are you leaving him behind? Is he leaving you behind? Why is it so hard to let go? Why do you choose the safety of the known, even when it hurts you?

You choose not to answer and instead firmly insist, “You have to forgive yourself, Joel, it’s okay.” Be the better person. If not for him, then for yourself. Let him go.

“I can’t do that.”, Joel is adamant, shaking his head while he rejects your request.

“Yes, you can.” you urge him again. “As I can and do.” Let him go.

Joel never thought he would listen to those words coming out of your mouth. He doesn’t deserve them. He hasn’t earned them. “You forgive me?”, he repeats in utter shock and disbelief.

“Yes.” Loud and clear as daylight.

“I- You can’t- I don’t- I don’t deserve that.” Joel feels like he’s drowning in your so graciously offered Holy Grail, desperately trying to keep his head above the waters of your absolution.

“I can’t be the judge of that, Joel, hell, I can’t be the judge of anyone. The way I see it, you chose your actions and I chose mine. You chose to hurt me and I chose to walk away. We both lost something. Have we not suffered enough, Joel?” you ask him honestly.

“I don’t want to presume, but- isn’t it a great burden to carry on your shoulders when you try to move on? All this anger, all that bitterness?” you search his eyes for an answer but he doesn’t give you one.

You continue, hoping to get through to him. “Your feelings are your burden Joel and it doesn’t matter if I forgive you. That’s why it is you who needs to forgive yourself.”

His eyes still refuse to meet yours, stubbornly glued to the ground. “I’m not doing this for you, I’m doing this for me. We need to move forward, both of us.” is the last thing you say to him, not knowing if he even listened to half of what you just said.

You both fall into a thoughtful silence, but something you said is bugging him. He can’t quite figure it out, so he turns to look at you, to savor you while he still has the chance. He knows that his time is limited.

You’re just sitting there with him, trying to comfort him, you of all people. You seem lighter now, fidgeting absentmindedly with your fingers as if some of your burden has already been lifted. And as his gaze sweeps over you, he sees it again. He sees the white shirt hugging your body and he knows what’s troubling him.

I don’t want to presume, I don’t want to presume, I don’t want to presume.

His heart beats rapidly in his chest, panic rising inside him.

“I’ve been with you for the last four years.”

“Excuse me?” your hands freeze as you turn to face him, clearly confused.

“You said you didn’t want to presume anything and I need to set the record straight. There was and is no other woman in my life except you.”

“Joel,” you blush shyly, “this is none of my business, you are free-”

“No. No. I need you to know this, it’s important to me. I meant everything I said. You have done nothing wrong. My feelings for you have never changed-”

“Joel, please..” you beg him to stop, you can’t have this conversation now, it’s too soon. No, you’re wrong. It’s too late; too soon means there’s a future ahead of you. A future where you both fit in the same universe.

“I don’t want you to think that I came all the way out here just to tie up some loose ends and move on. That is not what this is about.”

“If you expect me to tell you about my personal life..” your what now?

“No, I don’t. And I don’t think I could handle it, anyway. You are a free woman and you deserve the world. Unlike me; I don’t deserve anything and I’ll never be free of you.”

Your chin is now trembling and you bite your lower lip to stop the involuntary muscle contraction. You can’t decipher if it’s from anger for the way things came to be or from deep, excruciating sadness for how Joel feels. For how he makes you feel.

“Free woman, huh?”, you whisper bitterly, looking down at your feet, willing yourself not to cry.

“Yes, free, as you should always have been and I’m sorry I couldn’t see it sooner.”

Joel then picks up the divorce papers from the floor next to him as he’s fishing a pen out of his pocket. He stares at you and then at the blank space where his signature should be, next to yours. He splays his palm over the last page as if to straighten it out, but it almost looks like he’s caressing it. He brings the ball of the pen to the white surface and for a moment his hand lingers over it. He doesn’t dare look at you again, his resolve is not that strong. Finally, finally he signs, filling the empty spot and he hands you the contract. It’s a strange moment, the one before the signature and the one after it.

Everything seems to be the same; it is just a signature.

Everything feels completely different; it is not just a signature.

Your fingertips brush his as you reach out to take it, the touch sending shivers down your spine. Your slightly trembling hands hold the papers gently, not sure you wanna hold on to them or scatter them on the ground. Your thumb swipes softly over his signature.

You feel it, now. You feel the ground beneath your bare feet, the warmth of the earth, the weight of your footing. The falling has stopped. The feather finally rests. You have landed.

Joel moves to stand on his feet, as you keep staring at the drying ink, when you feel something fall from above onto your thumb; but you can’t see anything as it is immediately absorbed by the hungry pores of the paper, slightly smudging his signature. You look up to catch him as he dries his eyes with his thumb and forefinger.

“Free as a bird, baby, ready to fly over the world.”, Joel smiles at you with a look of reverence and devotion in his eyes.

You picture the floating feather in your head and smile back at him with a serenity he hasn’t seen in a long time.

“I think I just want to walk for a while. One step at a time.”

He nods, his eyes still full of emotion and you watch as he begins to walk slowly towards his truck, when suddenly he turns his body to face you but continues to walk backward in the same direction.

“Hey!” he calls to you with a mischievous smile, raising his chin to you.

“Yeah?” you answer, your voice wavering slightly as you try to hide your smile.

“Can I take you to dinner sometime?” he asks as he reaches for his driver’s door and opens it, waiting for your answer, which never comes because you think he’s joking. But he continues to stare at you, with no expectations, quietly, earnestly, sincerely, with a soft, shy smile on his lips. Oh.

Oh.

“Joel..” is all you breathe out, closing your eyes for a moment before you look at him again, because his name is all that is left in your very being right now. Joel.

He seems lighter, too.

“Maybe, one day..?”

“Yeah.. Maybe, one day..”

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fungal-rot · 2 days

Text

Sweet, Domestic Life

this one's actually based off a lucid dream i had months ago and oh how i wish to be back there </3 so i decided to write a quick little one shot about it

pairing: Joel x Reader

summary: you and joel have a three year old daughter, and today is her birthday. the two of you are setting up for her party!

warnings: age gap between joel and reader, no specified age for reader, jackson!era, the daughter isn't named here bc i wanted it to feel a little more personal for the reader, but her nickname is Bug, you and Joel make out for a quick second, your child is a cock-block, reader is referred as mama.

w.c.: 1.2k

⁺˚°｡⋆♱✮˖☽𓋼𓍊◯𓍊𓋼☾˖✮♱⋆｡°˚⁺

Mermaid-Princesses.

That is the theme your three year old daughter had her little heart set on. And of course, Joel did everything in his power to make it happen because 'whatever daddy's girl wants, daddy's girl gets.' So now here you were, hunched over while holding a plastic tiara with pink, heart-shaped rhinestones in one hand, and trying to zip up the back of this corny little iridescent mermaid dress with the other- on a child that couldn't sit still for longer than a second.

"Bug, I need you to stop moving," You tell her as you followed her tiny steps, hand chasing the zipper as she toddled off. Joel sat on the couch, blowing up balloons and tying them off before bopping them elsewhere into the living room. He watched the two of you with a fond gleam in his eyes, chuckling under his breath as the girl argued incoherently, wanting to go play.

"W- hold on a sec, girlfriend." You huffed and placed your hands on your hips, peering down at her with a cocked brow, "I'm almost done."

"No, I play now." She spoke back immediately with a firm shake of her head and scampered off, tiny feet stomping against the hardwood floor. You sighed and threw your hands up before letting them drop back to your sides with a light smack.

Toddlers, man.

"She gets that from you," Joel commented, a smirk turning up one corner of his mouth as he tied off another balloon. "That 'tude. Just as sassy as her mama." He tossed the balloon into the air and smacked it in your direction.

With a quick titter, you reached out and tapped the bottom with the tiara, letting it hover for a second longer before hitting it to the ground with the rest. "Mm, you must be so happy." Your brows waggled teasingly with an imperceptible back-and-forth nod of your head.

Joel was silent for a beat, his heart leaping in his chest as he stared back at you. He thought about all he's lost, all he's gained, and where he's at right now. He never thought he'd have another kid after Sarah, let alone two. Life was currently really good for the older man. He swallowed the lump forming in his throat, gaze softening as he gave you the gentlest smile, "The happiest." He responded sincerely.

Your shoulders droop a bit with a fluttering feeling growing in your stomach. Then making your way towards him, you sat down and ran your fingers through the graying hair at the nape of his neck.

"I love you," With a murmur you lean in and press a delicate, chaste kiss to his cheek, only for him to return it by swiveling his head and cupping your jaw tenderly, kissing you slowly and passionately. Joel placed a big hand at the small of your back as he licked at your bottom lip before slipping it in for a deep, loving kiss; noses pressed against the others cheek as he wrapped another arm around you.

He pulled away, just enough to reply, "I love you," and crashed his mouth against yours once more.

Then your daughter came running back in, now holding a pair of pink plastic princess pumps, the face of Aurora- Sleeping Beauty- buttoned at the top in feathery down in her pudgy hands, "Mama, shoes."

Your lips part from Joel's with a wet 'smack' as you peer down at your kid, nodding vaguely with a smile, "Yeah, they are! You want mama to help?" You tentatively reach your hands out in an offering, but she quickly turned her body from you, hugging the toy shoes to her chest.

"No, I do'd it."

You giggled, finding her grammar mishap endearing. "Okay, you 'do'd' it, then."

She turned her back to the two of you and crouched down, carefully placing the items to the floor before standing upright again, teetering a bit and grasping Joel's knee for support. He held out his arms, spotting her as he arched his brows in light amusement.

"Y'got it?" He asked, head tilting while he watched his babygirl hike a leg up, struggling to find balance.

"No." She answered softly, lips thinning and brows furrowing with concentration. The shoes were certainly too big for her, you noticed, as she slipped one foot in and lifted the other to do the same.

"Y'want my help?"

"No."

Joel turned to you with a flat expression, eyes saying, 'I told you.'

Yeah, this was definitely your child.

Yet you shrug your shoulders dismissively, slipping the tiara into his hair, leaving it lopsided, "Here, hold that," you spoke and took the opportunity to finally get your daughter's dress zipped, careful to not snag her hair or undershirt into it.

"And she actually gets her stubbornness from you, by the way." You smoothed her sleeves out, working your way down to adjust the shimmery tail of her dress, tugging at the hem slightly while she got her other foot in the slipper, bending over to reach for a red balloon.

All he could do was hum in response, the corner of his mouth flitting up as he grabbed the inflated sack of rubber and handed it to her. She held it up over her head, the static electricity making her hair stand up.

When she finally got situated, Joel let his arms lower a bit as she turned, arms still over her head while her feet scuffled against the floor.

Your daughter's face beamed with delight as she looked between the two of you proudly.

"Lookit you!" Joel exclaimed, mirroring her expression. His palms then splayed under her armpits, and with a soft grunt he picked her up, placing her on his lap before smoothing her flyaways down. He plucked the tiara off his head and placed it on hers, adjusting it so it would sit right, "Daddy's li'l princess."

Her shoulders turned up, now holding the balloon in one pudgy hand while the other placed against her mouth with a scrunched nose and toothy smile as she giggled excitedly.

"More like daddy's li'l stinkbutt," Another voice entered. Ellie walked in, kicking a few balloons to the side with arms folded over her chest as she observed the little girl with a playful glint in her eyes. The comment didn't faze the toddler one bit; instead she lifted her feet, presenting them to Ellie.

"Bellie, shoes." Her voice squeaked, legs kicking and arms reaching out to be held. The oldest girl laughed quietly at the mispronunciation of her name and leaned down to pick her up from Joel's lap, hoisting her onto her hip with a soft bounce.

"I see that, Bug!" She began to walk off, continuing to hold the conversation. "You know what a princess needs? A knight," Her voice carried through the living room and down the hall.

"I'll protect you from dragons, and monsters, and weird men who want to court you-"

You chortled with a shake of your head, leaning into Joel's side, resting your head on his shoulder and run your hand between the spot on his shoulder blades. The two of you sat there, relishing in the family you've created. Even though life wasn't like it used to be, it was still a nice change of pace to what you've endured before.

Life was good.

⁺˚°｡⋆♱✮˖☽𓋼𓍊◯𓍊𓋼☾˖✮♱⋆｡°˚⁺

again, thank you, everyone who’s shown me support and love on my last fics. i’m very grateful for every reblog and comment, please keep doing that. it makes me motivated to keep writing.

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skbeaumont · 19 hours

Text

Texas Heat | Joel x Reader Series

Chapter 3 - Coffee and Confessions

Series masterlist

Chapter Summary: You get a job at a coffee shop. It just happens to be across the street from where Joel's working a construction job. Later, things heat up when Joel drops round to pick up Sarah. Rating: Teen (for now) Tags/warnings: slow burn, eventual smut, age difference (reader is 25, Joel is 37), AU! no outbreak, porn with plot, a lot of sexual tension in this chapter. Word Count: 2.8k

Taglist: @mysterialee @amyispxnk

You wake late the next morning, head filled with half-remembered dreams about warm arms and a solid, broad chest. The mid-morning sun is already streaming through the bedroom curtains, and you can hear Connie downstairs, pots and pans clashing together as she finishes making breakfast.

You’re halfway down the stairs when she appears at the bottom, clutching a torn-out sheet of note paper which she holds out to you.

“I know you mentioned you’d like to get a part time job,” she says as you reach the bottom step, “so I called around a few places. There’s a coffee shop in town who are looking for new staff. This is the number, if you’re interested.”

She hands you the paper and beckons you into the kitchen, where there are fresh eggs and toast and a stack of steaming hot pancakes. You load up your plate with food and slide onto one of the bar stools at the kitchen counter. Connie whistles as she starts washing the dishes. You’re halfway through your breakfast when she turns back to you and wags a finger as though she’s just remembered something.

“The Cuthberts are having a barbeque this weekend, for the neighbourhood,” she says, “they live a few houses down. You’re invited, of course.”

“Sounds good,” You say, immediately wondering if Joel will be there.

“They’ve got a pool, so make sure you’ve got some swimwear.” Connie adds, and, like a teenager with a crush, you can’t help the blush that settles in your cheeks at the thought of Joel in swimwear, wet hair swept back off his forehead and curling at his ears.

Trying to distract yourself, you examine the number for the café Connie gave you. The job sounds good, so when you’ve finished your breakfast, you pull out your phone and call them.

*****

Three hours later and you’re hopping off a bus in Cedar Park, trying to remember the directions Connie gave you. You find your way, eventually; the coffee shop is a couple of blocks from the bus stop. It’s a pretty nice area, sun-bleached grass lining the wide streets made up of modern shops and restaurants opposite a community college. Inside, welcomed by the dark wood floor and familiar smell of coffee, you feel instantly at home; you’ve done barista work before back in England, in between classes and during the summer.

“Aha,” a woman behind the counter says as you introduce yourself, “fresh meat.”

She’s attractive; mid-forties, maybe, with thick blonde hair tied up in a spotless bun and a pristinely made-up face. A badge on her polo shirt tells you she’s Gina, the manager. She hands you an apron and tells you to make her a coffee. A younger girl – probably twenty, twenty-one, with a name badge that says ‘Diana’ in bubble writing – gives you a grin and offers to help.

And so the rest of the afternoon passes in a blur of grinding and brewing and steaming. The café is busy throughout the day thanks to its prime position opposite the community college. You get to meet an array of students and professors, and although you feel a pang of envy as you watch younger, fresh-faced students settle themselves at tables to sit and write papers, you enjoy the routine and hum of the barista work.

You’re just finishing up when the bell above the door tinkles. Gina’s voice immediately greets the newcomer, and you almost splutter at the sudden enthusiasm lacing every one of her words, the slightly over-the-top, sickly sweet quality that has entered her previously no-nonsense tone. Curious about who is causing your new manager to turn into a simpering dolt, you look up.

It’s Joel, of course.

Joel, in his toolbelt and faded jeans and tight t-shirt. His hair is slicked back with sweat, and there are flecks of plaster on his tanned skin and splatted down his toned arms. Your heart stutters – actually stutters – as though this is a cheap cheesy romcom and he’s the romantic lead. Gina’s batting her eyelashes at him and he’s grinning lopsidedly at her, all southern charm and polite gentleman. Diana shoots you a look from where she’s cleaning tables in the corner, grinning.

Joel doesn’t see you immediately – you’re mostly hidden from his view by the coffee machine you’d been cleaning when he came in – but jealously rises up in your chest when he laughs at something Gina says, at the way he leans against the counter to talk to her, knee popped out, one hand resting on the top of his toolbelt. It’s maddeningly attractive – he’s maddeningly attractive – and you think of how he looked standing so close to you yesterday, the way the heat of his body rolled off him and his scent: wood chippings and soap and something uniquely him.

Finally, Gina stops flirting for long enough to take his order, and his eyes flick up as she passes the receipt with the coffee order to you (americano, no cream). You step out from behind the machine, smiling at him politely, and he does something of a double take.

“Hey.” You say as you crank ground coffee into the filter basket.

“Hi.” He gives you a smile – warmer than the one he offered Gina, you think smugly – and asks, “what’re you doin’ here?”

You point at the apron you’re wearing, at the handwritten name tag, “As of about three hours ago, I work here.”

“And how’s that going for you?”

It’s almost criminal how he can make such a simple, inoffensive question sound so intimate, so flirtatious.

“It picked up significantly in the last few minutes,” You say, holding his warm gaze and biting the side of your mouth to suppress a grin.

He flushes a little, caught off guard, and you push on, not wanting to leave the sentence hanging awkwardly between you, aware of Gina’s presence a few feet away, “How about you? What brings you to this side of town?”

He points vaguely behind him to where the community college is, “’m working on a project across the road at the moment. Big expansion.”

You try to eke out making the coffee for as long as you can, taking care to clean the filter after each shot fills the cup, keeping your eyes on Joel as he explains about the job. He’s easy to talk to. He asks how you’re finding the job, if you’ve done barista work before, and when you answer he really listens, leans in and keeps his eyes right on yours, like you’re the only person in the world who’s interesting. It’s dizzying and electrifying. The fact that Gina is hovering in the background – clearly keen to butt in and join the conversation but not getting a chance as Joel asks you question after question – makes it all the more intoxicating.

After several minutes you push the finished coffee across the counter to him. He wraps a hand around it, his thick fingers and large palm making the cup look tiny.

“Thanks, darlin’” He says, raising the cup to his lips and taking a sip. “I’d better head back, but I’ll see you around, I’m sure.”

“Yeah,” You say, then, remembering, ask, “oh – are you going to the Cuthbert’s barbeque this weekend?”

“S’long as I can get this plastering finished by Friday.” He replies, and then he’s taking long strides away from you, pushing the door open and stepping through it.

Immediately, Gina is all over you.

“You know him?” She asks, sidling up to you and leaning on the counter conspiratorially.

“He lives next door,” You explain, wiping down the coffee machine absentmindedly, still watching Joel’s broad back as he jogs across the road back towards the college.

“You lucky thing!” Gina exclaims. “He’s been coming in regularly the last couple of weeks, but I’ve never managed to get his name. Or his number.” She gives you an over-the-top wink with this last and you force a polite smile, wiping the milk steamer perhaps a little harder than necessary.

“Can we agree,” Diana says later that evening, as you both wind your way to the bus stop from the café, “that Gina is gagging for it.”

You laugh and Diana bumps against your shoulder, her own laugh high and clear against the hum of the traffic. It feels nice to be hanging out with someone who’s not related to you or thirteen years old or the object of an intense crush. And Diana is quick to laugh and easy to talk to. Her company makes the homesickness for your friends dull a little.

“No but seriously,” she says as you reach the bus stop, “I’m gay and even I can tell that Joel guy is hot. You sleeping with him?”

“What? No.” A pause as Diana raises a single eyebrow at you, and then you add, “I mean, I want to, but I haven’t. As of yet.”

This sends you both into another round of giggles as you flop down onto a bench.

“You think he’s into you too?” Diana asks when you’ve got your breath back.

“I think so, but it’s hard to tell. A couple of times I’ve thought he’s flirting with me, but then I’ll say something back or he realises what’s happening and it’s like he… panics.”

You tell her about last night, about how he looked at you in the half-light of the living room doorway, about the way he suddenly backed off but then sent a text asking you to come back again next week.

Diana shrugs, “Maybe he’s just shy?” “Yeah, maybe.” You let your gaze drift to the row of shops opposite the bus stop, think about Joel’s face earlier when you told him he’d made your day better, about the blush that coloured his tanned face.

“You know what you’ve got to do, right?” Diana says then, her blue hair almost purple in the fading sunlight.

You roll your eyes, grin, ask, “What?”

“Well, if he turns up at this barbeque you mentioned in the café, you’re gonna have to flirt your ass off.”

“Oh, God.”

Diana cackles as the bus pulls up, and you bury your face in your hands.

*****

Joel works late the next two nights. You know because Sarah comes round both evenings and leaves only when his work truck pulls up onto their drive, at gone nine both Thursday and Friday. You help her out with maths homework, show her how to do differential equations without having to resort to tears, which proves popular.

“Usually,” she declares on Friday, as you sit at the kitchen bench while Danny feeds Nana in the lounge and Connie takes the trash out, “it’s very boring here. But since you came, it’s about a million times better. Even with the math.”

“Especially with the maths.” You reply, grinning, and she rolls her eyes.

Connie bustles back into the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron.

“I think your daddy’s home, Sarah.” She says as she comes in.

There’s a tap on the front door as she says it. You rise from the bench, brush cookie crumbs from your jeans and make your way down the hall. The silhouette framed by the glass of the door is broad and tall, and your stomach does a strange little jolt as you step towards it.

Joel’s face is drawn when you open the door, the bags under his eyes accentuated by the porch lights, the lines on his tanned forehead deep. He’s in his work clothes, as usual. The tool belt is off, though, which is strangely a disappointment.

“Hey,” you say grinning, and he smiles back, his tired eyes creasing at the corners.

“Hi, darlin’. Is my kid here, by any chance?”

“She is indeed. She’s just packing up her things.”

He nods, and you take in the sag in his shoulders, the yawn that suddenly stretches his mouth.

“You’re working too hard.” You say, and he chuckles.

“Been tryna finish this plastering, because someone wants me to go to a barbeque.” He quips, grinning, and you feel yourself blushing.

“Did you finish it?”

He holds his hands out to his sides, lets you take in the beige splodges that cover his jeans, the dust that coats his t-shirt, the caked soles of his large work boots.

“Reckon most of it’s on me, but there’s enough on the walls to do the job too.”

“I assume you’ll be wearing this outfit tomorrow, too?” You say, laughing as he tries and fails to brush off a particularly well-dried patch of plaster from the leg of his jeans.

“Oh, ‘course.”

Sarah appears at your side, Connie behind her. She tucks an arm around your waist and you slip yours over her shoulder.

“We did differential equations.” She says proudly, and Joel smiles at her.

“Might as well have done Greek for all that means to me, baby girl.” He says, “C’mon, let’s get you to bed.”

“Oh, your lawn mower’s in the garage, Joel.” Connie says, as Sarah hops out of the front door and starts down the porch steps. “I wouldn’t ask you to move it now, only Danny wants the space for the beer cooler for tomorrow.”

“No worries,” Joel says, “I’ll get it. Sarah, go on home and open the garage up.” He tosses her a bunch of keys.

“I can open up our garage,” You offer, taking the keys from Connie as she scrabbles to change her slippers, gripping the door handle and wobbling precariously.

“Thank you, dear.” She says, sighing and straightening up.

Outside, you press the key into the garage door and let it swing open. Joel stands by, grabs the top of the door as it swings open, lets it gently rise the last couple of inches. The movement pulls the top of his shirt up, revealing his stomach, the dark hairs the trace a path down below the waistband of his jeans. You swallow, avert your eyes a few seconds too late, straight up into his face. He’s smiling cockily, hand still up on the open garage door.

“Concentrate, darlin’,” He says, and the Southern drawl of it goes straight to you core, has you pressing your thighs together, heat building in your belly.

“I think the mower is just over- ugh, what the fuck!” You bat at the cobweb that you’ve just walked straight into, spluttering and clawing at it, dragging it off of your face.

Joel lurches forward in a split second, panicked by your outburst, then, realising what’s happened, falls back and starts laughing.

“Don’t laugh!” You say, pulling long silky threads from your face. “It’s all over me!”

“Here,” Joel steps toward you again, raises a hand, brushes a single fingertip over your forehead, pulling one of the web’s tendrils away from your skin.

“Thanks,” You say, suddenly stilling, letting your own hands fall, leaning into his touch.

“There’s some in your hair.”

“Can you?”

“Oh, uh, yeah.”

He reaches up, threads a hand into the front of you hair and combs through it. He’s so gentle it almost makes you whimper, his fingertips just brushing your scalp, side of his thumb barely tracing the side of your jaw, down to your neck. You feel goosebumps erupt in the wake of his hand. He’s looking at you – at your hair, his eyes wide and serious, mouth slightly open. You watch his arm, watch the muscles shift in his bicep as he moves his hand back through your hair, pulling the last of the cobweb out. He slows as he reaches the ends, lets his little finger glide almost imperceptibly under your chin, lifting your face delicately so that you’re looking right at him.

His pupils are blown wide in the dim light of the garage, that same look on his face as he had in the doorway of the lounge a few nights ago. He moves his hand from your face, hesitates, closes it into a fist by your shoulder and then sighs, a resigned, drawn out sigh. Before you can speak he’s pushing his hand back into your hair, caressing your jaw, drawing your face up, towards his lips, which are parted slightly, plump and beautiful. You’re inches from him, your breath mingling, his eyelashes brushing his cheeks as he leans down to meet you in the middle.

“Dad?”

You spring apart at the sudden sound of Sarah’s voice. You’re both flustered; Joel’s cheeks are ruddy and you can feel your own burning scarlet.

“Coming, we’re coming.” He says, turning from you to Sarah, who steps round the driveway into the entrance of the garage.

Joel steps past you to the mower, lifts it up easily in one arm and carries it back towards his daughter. He turns as he reaches her, looks you up and down in a way that makes you suddenly hot all over, his eyes sparkling with something deliciously dark.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, darlin’.” He says, and then he’s gone again, and you’re left alone with a thumping heart and a deep, unsatiated hunger.

#joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller au #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfic #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #AU!no outbreak #joel x reader #joel x you #the last of us fic

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loonmartell · 2 days

Text

𓄹𓄼 Rainy day brew 𓄼𓄹

(No outbreak Joel Miller x f!reader)

Summary : Can a stormy night and well brewed coffee bring two hearts together?

Rating : Explicit/+18 (Smut! MDNI)

Word count : 6,336 (I got carried away sorry..)

Warnings/tags : No outbreak AU, pining, Alternating POV, pet names, one “yes, ma’am” because I couldn’t help it, a sprinkle of plot, SMUT (unprotected PiV sex, fingering, dirty talk, grinding, kissing, teasing, One (1) playful ass slap, creampie), storms (rain, thunder & lightning), A LOT of yapping about pour over coffee, no use of y/n.

A/N : Hello again! Today I come with Joel smut 🙏🏻. I wrote this for @undercoverpena ‘s April Showers Challenge! I absolutely fell in love with the idea when i saw it, cuz if there’s one thing about me it’s that I LOVE rain! So ofc i had to try and do it <3 A big huge colossal thank you to @joels-darlin for being my lovely beta <33 and @coispunk for not blocking me after i bounced off the walls contemplating if i should upload this or not ✨✨✨

Masterlist

——

“You need a ride home darlin’?”

You turn to the source of the voice and find Joel talking to you through the rolled down window of his pick up truck.

“Oh! no it’s okay I can wait for the rain to—”

“Non ‘a that now, This storm could last ‘til tomorrow night” he leans over the passenger seat to open the door for you.

It’s not that you wouldn’t appreciate the ride —you most certainly would— but you didn’t want to be an inconvenience and you especially didn’t want Joel to think that you were aburden.

You didn’t know each other very well. Your best friend Maria is dating his brother Tommy. And you’ve been dragged to a couple of dinners and drinks over the last couple of months with the three of them. But the conversations were always guided by the other two, so you and Joel never really spoke much. In fact, you had the fleeting idea that maybe Joel didn’t like you. He’s always so tense around you, you know this because you literally saw his jaw tensing after you showed up. And you caught him glaring at you a couple of times. You thought you may have unknowingly offended him somehow, but Maria assured you afterwards that you didn't say or do anything wrong and that he was probably just tired. So you let it go, but the idea is still floating around in your head.

Tonight was one of those nights where you went out for drinks, Maria and Tommy headed home early and left you with Joel half an hour ago. And not long after that Joel excused himself saying he had an early morning and said his goodbyes.

You waited a couple of minutes before you got out as well. Only, much to your delight; a storm was brewing and it was raining by the time you were ready to walk home. What an incredible choice you made to walk instead of drive on this day.

When Joel was one street away from where he left you at the bar. He thought back on when you mentioned leaving your car at home because you thought it was nice weather for a stroll. He tried really hard to get the idea of you walking home in this storm out of his head. You can manage. Get an uber, call a cab, whatever. But then again, Joel's southern manners would never allow him. That, and this big, colossal crush he has on you.

The first time he ever saw you was when he picked up Tommy from Maria’s (and your) apartment one morning. Tommy left him waiting long enough for you to get out and go to work (he assumed). You really had him in a chokehold. You were really, breathtakingly beautiful. You had your hair in a high ponytail with a few strands deliberately out, framing the gorgeous features of your face. You had both your hands full. One had a large handbag hanging from your wrist, hand holding a travel mug and a coat hanging on your forearm. The other hand was holding a bright red watering can. You started watering the flower beds on the windowsills and the big pot of gardenias right by the door. Your next door neighbour, an old lady, got out at that time. And Joel saw your cheery smile for the first time, and what he assumed were good mornings were exchanged. What a sweet, little thing.

He had the sudden urge to roll down the car window so he could hear what voice accompanied that divine face. But he thought better of it. And sooner than he would prefer, you were in your car and driving off.

When Tommy finally showed up, apparently physically unable to take his lips off of Maria’s, judging by how they never separated even after he was out the door. Joel rolled his eyes and turned his face away from that scene and towards the street on his other side.

Finally Tommy got into the car with a disgusting, lovesick smile on his face. But he smelled like shampoo and his hair was relatively wet. He showered and for that Joel is eternally grateful.

“You’re late” Joel deadpanned.

“And good morning to you too, brother” The younger man scoffed before placing two travel mugs in the cup holders.

Joel scrunched his eyebrows “what's that?”

“Coffee, Maria’s roommate brews her own with one ‘a those pour over kits and she insisted that we try hers.”

Joel’s throat went dry, thinking about that pretty girl he was unashamedly staring at, going out of her way to make enough coffee for her friend’s boyfriend’s brother. A sweet, delightful little thing.

“That’s real nice of her” if his voice cracked a little, Tommy didn’t notice.

“Yeah it is. So I’ve been thinkin’,” Tommy changed the subject faster than Joel would like. “You think you can drop me off at my place at say.. Two?”

“Two? We finish at the site at least after Three, what d’ya mean you wanna get out at Two?” Joel shifted his eyes from the road long enough to glare at his brother.

“Yeah I know but I was thinkin’” Joel is really starting to hate it when Tommy thinks “today’s me and Maria’s six months anniversary, and I kinda wanna do somethin’ special for her”

Six months anniversary Joel mentally scoffed, the fuck is a six months anniversary? And why isn’t he talking more about that damn sweet roommate!

“Yeah no can do, Romeo. We’re already behind ‘cause ’a last week, need I remind you that you ditched me laying down parquet on my own? had to do the three bedrooms that day all by myself”

“I told you we should’a done planks instead of parquet but you never listen to me, do you?” Tommy’s counter argument was weaker than he was hoping for. It was the owner’s choice, not Joel’s. And they both knew it. “Plus I had a damn plausible excuse that day”

“Not sure if a discount on an already cheap restaurant counts as plausible”

“It wasn’t just a ’discount’, Joel. It was a surf ‘n turf for half the price!”

“Yeah well I was surfin’ and turfin’ alone on the floors of the Johnsons. You’re not ditchin’ me again.”

Tommy slumped down on his chair like a toddler would.

On a red light Joel finally picked up his mug and took his first sip. A sweet, delightful, damn-good coffee making little thing.

——

Before he even knew it, Joel was opening the passenger side door for you, not taking no for an answer. Thankfully, you didn’t put up that much of a fight and climbed your pretty ass in his truck.

The ride was pretty short and silent. The sound of thunder and loud smacks of raindrops against the car not leaving much room for chatting anyway.

When he parked as close as he could to your door, he reached behind your seat to the pocket of it. And brought out a small, folded umbrella. He knew it was a mere seconds walk from the car to your door, but he had the umbrella with him already, so why risk giving you a cold? Your nose, red and sniffling. He had to actively suppress the upturn of the corners of his lips.

“Here” he handed you the umbrella and before you could get a chance to speak, he followed with “not taking no for an answer, darlin’. Gettin’ soaked in this wind could get you sick”

“Um.. actually the storm’s getting stronger, and I was gonna suggest you come inside? I don’t know if I’m comfortable with you driving in this weather”

A sweet, delightful, damn-good coffee making, thoughtful little thing.

He looked out the windows, trying to figure out his next move.

“Think I’ll take you up on that offer. It does look pretty bad, and the slippery streets are harder to navigate when I can’t see further than my nose.” He brought his eyes to you. Hoping he wouldn’t seem too eager to agree.

You graced him with a smile and said “well alright then, guess now I don’t have to feel bad for hogging you umbrella”

“ ‘s not hogging if I’m voluntarily givin’ it to you” he smirked as he turned off the car. He got out of it with a quick “stay where you are” and opened the umbrella as he rounded to your side of the truck.

You walked under the umbrella he was holding. You’ve never been this close to him before and it gave you goosebumps that had nothing to do with the weather. You fiddled with your keys until you got the door open. There was no car outside or shoes in the foyer. They must’ve gone to Tommy's then. As much as you always wanted some quiet, alone time in your apartment. This was not one of those times. You were hoping Maria and Tommy were here to take the edge off of being alone with Joel, but you can’t really back out now and you’re already here. So, time to take a page out of the southern manners book.

”What would you like to drink?” you offered after he settled on the couch. His large frame dwarfing your whole living room, making everything look almost miniature. The thought had you blushing and you don’t really know why, but you don’t even want to find out.

“Coffee would be nice, if it's not a bother” his voice travelled through his place on the couch to the kitchen.

You can’t help the excited grin you have on “not at all! I just got a new Holklotz set that I’ve been dying to try out” when you get a new brewing set, you need time to experiment with different coffee grinds, ratios and timing between blooming and brewing to master the perfect cup. Time is a luxury not available to you on late mornings when you trade it for extra minutes of sleep.

Footsteps approaching the kitchen make you raise your head to see Joel coming into view, his eyebrows scrunched and confused “you got a what?”

You smile and hold the wooden base of the dripstand that you took out of the cabinet “this is my newest set, it arrived a week ago but between work and being too tired after, I haven’t had the time to bring it out and try it yet. Until now” you look at him with a too excited smile that you don’t try to hide.

“Well alrighty then, you happen to have here the perfect white mouse, test away” he settles at the barstool by the kitchen island that you’re standing by. You weigh the coffee beans and put them in the manual grinder, set to the size you need. Not too coarse but not too fine.

“Okay white mouse, care to help?” You hold up the grinder.

“Tell me what you need, boss” he concludes. So, you hand him the grinder to work on it as you heat the water and take the rest of the set out and put it together.

He continues working on grinding the coffee and wonders if you have immensely great upper body strength, since you do this every morning. His coffee is already ground and comes in a container. He doesn’t see the necessity for an upper body workout every time you need a little caffeine. But truth be told, he has been craving that coffee you made him that one time. Damned if it wasn’t the best cup he’s ever had.

The silence is killing him, and he has to avail from the storm that brought him to your home. “So, when you’re not at work or training for an arm wrestlin’ tournament,” he gestures to the grinder “what do you like to do?”

“Obviously, I take part in the tournaments I train for” you say with a serious expression that has his eyes widened in surprise. “I’m kidding, Joel. Although I think I have a good solid shot at winning.” You stick your nose up in the prettiest little smug face and Joel wants to kiss it away so bad. Focus.

He drags himself back to the present “can’t argue with that. But, if you’re basing that over this,” he again gestures to the grinder in his hands “then it’s not enough bargain for winning”.

You scoff and raise your hands up, wiggling your fingers “you have no idea what these hands can do” Joel can see you regretted blurting out the words without thinking, judging by the rising blush on your face and the way you don’t meet his eyes anymore. He can’t say he’s any better, his mind is already conjuring unholy images, reeling his brain and sending a rush of tingling heat down south.

What can they do? He imagines your small hands trying to wrap around his throbbing cock. Or you writhing on your bed stuffing yourself with three of your too small fingers, desperately trying to cum. He bets he can do it faster and better for you. If you give him the chance.

He knows he shouldn’t be picturing you like this. It’s crazy to even think about you like this. You haven’t even told him if you’re interested. Hell he never even said anything to show you he’s interested.

Clearing your throat, this time you’re the one bringing him back to the present, you say “anyway, I think I got off topic there” you let out a nervous chuckle. “To answer your question. My time is pretty much divided between work, coffee and my plants. I’m kinda boring, don’t really got much going on”

Joel doesn’t hear the presence of a partner in your life, and he selfishly likes it.

“Don’t sound boring to me, ‘s pretty comfortable” you smile at his comment and he gives you the coffee grounds, ready to be used.

You start your brewing process, talking him through every step you’re doing. Wetting the filter, dumping the coffee grounds in and meticulously pouring the water on the dripper. The blooming, the timing. He can’t promise he heard everything. Because you bite your bottom lip and your face contorts in the cutest focused face and he can’t help but stare. You really love doing this and he wants to eat you up.

“My chemex is my go-to on late mornings,” You suddenly pipe up as you’re waiting for the water to drip through the coffee grounds. “Even though it takes longer than a V60, It’s just faster to clean up and I can dual-task while it’s brewing. So I don’t mind.”

He lets out a hum from the back of his throat, considering what you said. “What about the taste? Whaddya like more?” He surprises himself that he actually cares and not just trying to be polite.

“I like them both the same, the flavour with the V60 is usually richer ‘cause the filters are thinner, but I still like the soft, smooth taste when using the chemex”.

In the back of his mind, Joel thinks he’s ready to fall in love with you. He loves coffee, sure. But to him it’s just something he needs in the morning and sometimes later in the day. Never really thought much of it, he has a coffee machine that gets work done for him. And yet, here you are, showing him a different, almost artistic aspect of it.

“Although..” Okay so you’re not done yet. “If we’re talking taste-wise in the brewing methods, I’ll have to go with the syphon”

“Syphon?”

“Yes syphon, I tried it once in a lovely family owned coffee shop across town. I’m telling you, if I lived near there? I would be a regular faster than you can say syphon”

“Well syphon is a long word, two full syllables” he faux ponders, making you giggle.

“Okay smartass, coffee’s ready.” You pull out two mugs from the cabinet. And fill them up. And slide his across the kitchen island, a brown owl adorning the ceramic surface.

You both sip at the same time then let out a ridiculously simultaneous soft sighs. You look at Joel with wide, pleading eyes, gauging his reaction. And of course, being the honest man that he is, he would never lie.

“Damn, that is good” he clicks his tongue and goes for another sip.

You smile brightly “I like it too. Although it’s a little more bitter for my liking, think I'll adjust the grind next time.”

You want to kick yourself so bad. You’re only now realising that you got too comfortable and you let yourself go on and on about something he probably doesn’t even care about. You had to shut the caffeine talk down.

“So, Joel, how's Sarah?” You gestured for him to follow you to the living room.

He settled on one side of the loveseat while you occupied the other, folding your legs under yourself. “She’s alright, her mom wanted her to see her grandma so she’s with her this week.” Maria told you all about their co-parenting system and how they’re succeeding in making it work so far. Little 10 years old Sarah spends equal amounts of time with both her parents and she feels loved by both. Not everything is a bed of roses, of course. But they deal with obstacles when they appear in their time.

“That’s nice, and how was her game last week? I remember you said she was nervous about it?” He stared at you for a few seconds too long that it makes you wonder if you crossed a line or said something wrong. But he blinked a couple of times and continued.

“Doin’ great actually, my little goal getter” he pondered softly before announcing “she scored the winning goal in last week’s game!” He sat up a little, you think it’s unconsciously as a result of his excitement.

“Oh my god! That’s so amazing!” You matched his energy “you must be so proud!”.

His smile widened if it was possible “I am, she puts her mind into something and never rests ‘til she gets it,” he reclined against the couch again “dunno where she got it from, but I sure as hell am not gonna complain”

“You’re selling yourself short, Joel.” You offered a warm smile “I’m sure you’ve been a great influence on her, your determination is probably rubbing off on her.”

Joel’s expression softened, a hint of pride flickering in his eyes. “Thanks, sure means a lot coming from you, sweetheart. If I’m bein’ honest, I just wanna see my girl chasin’ her dreams and be happy. ‘s all I want”

“I have no doubt she’ll do so much, and she’ll achieve great things with your guidance and support” you placed your hand on his knees for reassurance.

He felt warmth all over his chest, his heartbeats exceeding those of a hummingbird. His eyes fell down to where your hand was touching and almost burning him, and they stayed there for a while before looking back at your eyes. He has this immense urge to kiss you. The tension has been building all night and his ability to hold himself off is getting harder and harder by the second.

He cleared his throat, trying to steady his racing heart as he met your gaze. "Thank you," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "Your faith in her means the world to me."

Your hand lingered on his knee for a moment longer before you withdrew it, a faint blush coloring your cheeks. "She's lucky to have you as her dad, y’know" you said softly, the look in your eyes showing the sincerity of your words.

A moment of silence passed between you, the air thick with unspoken emotions. Joel's gaze flickered to your lips, his own heart still pounding accompanied by longing. He swallowed hard, struggling to find the right words to convey the feelings swirling inside him.

He brought his eyes back up to yours only to see that your gaze had been on his lips, mirroring his desires. Your gazes met, the tension snapped. Lightning flashes through the window right before your eyes and your lips crash in a bruising, soaring kiss that to outsiders would look as if you were trying to devour each other. Everything happened at a rather fast pace. The roaring of the thunder dwindled by frantic breathing and the rush of blood in his ears. His tongue demanded entry, which you gave no problem. He brought his large palm over your hips, pulling you over to straddle him, never breaking the kiss.

He felt your heat through the layers of clothes between you as you settled on his lap, pulling a soft gasp out of you. Using his grasp on your hips, he rocked you back and forth to grind your center on his bulge, eliciting a string of whines you let out in between the clashing of tongues. In a moment of sudden clarity, he broke off your lips but never moved too far away, he rested his forehead to yours, sharing the air. Finally, he spoke, his voice husky with emotion.“Um- I’m sorry, is- is this okay?”

You continued to move against him, seeking more friction. Then you chuckled through your laboured breathing, “yeah, yes I want this. If- if you do too.”

“Oh darlin’ you have no idea” he hurried out before picking up where he left off, trailing his lips down the corner of your mouth, your jaw, your neck where he settled on open mouthed kisses that sent your head falling back, giving him more of you. He got addicted to the taste of your skin on his tongue fast and he craved to taste more.

Dragging his mouth over your shoulders then to your collarbone. He huffed in frustration, your shirt was personally offending him by denying him the access he needed. Seeming to sense his frustration, you pushed him away slightly so you could pull off your shirt over your head in one smooth motion. He wasted no time roaming his hands all over your torso, returning his mouth to your collarbones, kissing his way down to the parts of your breasts spilling out from your bra.

His hands slithered up from your hips to the sides of your waist, then wrapped around your back and moved up to hook his fingers underneath the strap of your bra. He mumbled against your skin, “can I take it off?” You gasped your affirmation. Overwhelming sensations leaving you breathless.

Even though it was a simple bra strap, he struggled to unhook it. Hands too shaky and excited. You breathed a laugh and did it yourself. Once you’re completely bare, nipples perking up as soon as the cold air hits them. He pulled away, looking at you with wide, fascinated eyes. His lips immediately latched around a nipple, flicking his tongue slowly, almost as if he’s savouring the feeling. He pulled away and murmured “beautiful”. Just to latch onto the other one with the same treatment, “absolutely beautiful” he murmured again into the plushness of your tits.

You felt a shiver at the undivided attention from the gorgeous man that seems to never get enough of you. Of course you always thought he was handsome, that was non negotiable. The man was gorgeous from day one. And tonight, you felt a connection that you never felt before. And as soon as the ties were made, the tension rose suddenly, as if it had always been there but you were too much in your head to notice it, contemplating whether he likes you or not. But now, you do notice it. Very much so. And it’s becoming unbearable. You want him so bad. You want him to drown all your senses. You want him inside, outside, under and over you.

Joel, Joel, Joel.

You held his head with both your hands to pull him away from your chest before saying “need to see you too, Joel” you pleaded as you fumbled with the hem of his shirt trying to lift it. His eyes darkened at your desperation. As quick as the lightning that occasionally lights up the room around you, he flipped you so your back is against the couch and took off his shirt and jeans and hovered above you.

You took a steadying breath and your eyes drank in the sight in front of you, bringing your hands on each of his wrists. You mapped the outlines of his thick arms, moving towards his shoulders. Then brought them back to his broad chest, bare except for the hair that formed a thick layer in the center. You felt the muscles ripple under your fingertips. Built from the physical labour that a contractor would endure. You lowered your touch a little to feel his soft stomach. Squishy tummy, a sign of a man that was actually living and feeding himself well. Not shying away from a meal or obsessing over fitting society’s mould of perfection. You wanted to kiss it and nibble on it so bad, but you weren’t sure if he’d be okay with it, that was probably more of a second time type of thing. Mentally shaking your head away from the idea that you’re already thinking of next time when nothing even happened yet. Lastly, you ran your fingers on the smattering of coarse, dark hair that dipped further down into his tented boxers.

Mostly empty coffee cups long abandoned on the table. He knelt on his knees between your spread legs, and yanked your pants and panties in one quick motion. Towering over your naked form. His eyes danced around every inch of your body. He brought his thumbs to each side of your heat. Tracing the outside of your folds. He murmured so low, almost as if he’s talking to himself “Too goddamn pretty for your own good, baby”. He was basking in the sight of your desperate writhing as your need for any kind of friction became unfathomable.

“Please,” you whined in frustration, A smirk pulled on his lips at your little pouty face.

“Please what, darlin’?”

“Touch me” your keen hands reach for his wrists to coax them where you want him. But he was determined to keep his hands at their place.

Yeah, your hands are too small, too soft for such a sweet, delightful, damn-good coffee making, thoughtful, eager little thing.

“I am touching you now, ain’t I?” He keeps stroking the outside of your lower lips.

“More, please.” You whimpered.

“Well, you leave me no choice now, since you asked so nicely”

He wasted no time gathering the slick from your opening and plunging his thick middle finger in and out. Your breath catching at the sudden but welcome stretch. Not long after, his ring finger joined inside and he curled them both up, searching and finding the spot that makes your eyes roll and your hips buck into his hand in shock.

“sit still, angel.” He placed his other hand on your lower stomach to keep your back rested on the couch. He picked up the pace of his fingers thrusting in and out, in and out, massaging the same spot over and over and over. He felt your walls slightly tightening around his fingers, and there’s a change in the rhythm of your breathing. You’re close. “Cum for me, angel. Come on lemme see this pretty pussy droolin’ for me”. He kept his pace up until you were gasping for air. And with a specifically strong stroke, your walls clumped down, choking his fingers and soaking them to the wrist. Working you through your high, he kept his eyes on you, the sight of you coming apart on his fingers. Heavenly.

He took his fingers out and sucked them with lewd, obscene sounds. He made a show to lick his palm clean of your release and humming around his fingers. “Next time, I’m havin’ it straight from its source” he leaned down and kissed your parted lips. “Oughta have a palate cleanser ‘f we’re gonna give your coffee a fair shot” he gave a playful smack to your ass “and you sure know how to make ‘em.”

You blushed and giggled as you couldn’t help the giddy feeling of the prospect of a next time. The image of Joel relishing the taste of you is already seared deep in your brain. You couldn’t wait to have these slurping noises happening between your legs, certain already that he doesn’t eat, he devours.

He sat up on his haunches and lowered his boxers below his balls. He took his cock in his hand. Not even his large hand wrapped around it makes it seem any less girthy. The head is angry and leaking a steady stream. He gives himself slow, languid strokes from base to red-purplish head. You couldn’t help yourself, you sat up and your hand took over his. Stroking him at the same pace he was. He shuddered at your touch and marvelled at the contrast between his rough, calloused hand versus your soft, smooth ones on his cock. You gradually increased the pressure, adding a twist at the end that sent his head falling back with a stifled groan between his clenched teeth.

His hands were tight fists by his sides, desperately trying to hold off but ready to pounce at you any moment. “Hold on, baby” he groaned “I- I gotta grab a condom”

“But I wanna feel you, and I’m safe” you said in a little, unsure voice. Still stroking him and loving the velvety softness enveloping the steely hardness. When your gazes met again, the hungry look in his eyes made a tiny sound climb to the back of your throat. With that, the last thread holding off the beast inside him snapped. With a low growl he grabbed your ankles, yanking you closer to his pelvis, making your back hit the soft pillow on the couch with a dull thud.

“Baby, I’m clean too. But I need ya to be sure, angel. ‘Cause when I start, ‘m not really sure I can stop” He said through dark eyes that were straining to hold off.

You held firm eye contact with him “I’m sure, Joel. Please fuck me now”

“Yes, ma’am” with that, he ran his cock through your slit, gathering you wetness before lining it with your entrance and with one quick motion he sinks into you. Your moans and his name on your tongue, dripping honey onto his ear. He feels your warmth enveloping every inch of him. He wants to get lost in the feeling. To replace every bad memory he has with this sensation, the divine fit of your silky smooth walls, encompassing him. So tight, so soft, so perfect.

As his hips rocked back and forth, you wrapped your legs around him, and dug your heels into his ass, wanting him impossibly deeper. Sweet, delightful, damn-good coffee making, thoughtful, eager, greedy little thing. He removed his hands from beside your head to hold the base of your skull in one of his palms and wrap the other under your waist for leverage. Grunting into your neck while your pretty moans filling his ears got louder as he moved in a pace that promised him a date with painkillers and an ice pack on his back tomorrow night.

When he felt the telltale signs of your near release, he gently let go of your head to bring his hand down and circle your bundle of nerves. Your continuous string of frantic pleads prompted him to lay soothing kisses to the corner of your mouth. With a compulsive string of “it’s okay, baby”, “sound so pretty whinin’ like that”, and “just let go for me, princess.”

The last one pushing you over the edge. With your legs quivering, your breathing turning into shallow panting and your hands clawing at his back. He was working you through it all with a “that’s it, angel. There ya go”, “so good for me” and “look so pretty cummin’ on my cock”.

Once your muscles stopped contracting and your heartbeat settled on. Joel switched to a more gentle pace. You stuttered out between small gasps of air “cum for me, Joel. Fill me up”. Leaving him no choice but to buck into you wildly with renewed vigour. Fucking you like all of his goddamn life is depending on it.

Loving the effect you have on him, you whispered “Wanna feel you inside me after you leave, Joel”. This makes his release hit him like a freight train. With a few forceful plunges and a string of grunted out fucks. He shoots his load with a prolonged groan of your name, painting your walls with strong, long spurts. He came so hard, he thinks he blacked out for a minute.

He collapsed on top of you, nuzzling in your neck and surrounding himself in your scent as he comes down from his high. In the middle of the chaos of regulating heartbeats and relaxing bodies, your laboured breathing turns into a giggle when his beard tickles your neck and under your jaw. He lifted his head to look at you with a “what?” and scrunched eyebrows. You stifled your giggle with a shake of your head. Only failing when he dips his head in your neck again. He smirked when realisation hit him. Lifting his head again “You’re ticklish ain’tcha, angel?” His face is so close your noses were touching.

You pressed your lips in a firm, straight line and shook your head again.

“No? So you don’t mind me doing this?” He rubbed his beard on your neck again and again. You went into a giggle fit that triggered his own breathy chuckles as he switched to the other side.

“Okay, okay I am, I am!” You managed to say between giggles.

He stopped and looked you straight in the eyes “ ‘s what I thought” he descended his lips on yours and they mingled in a soft, deep kiss that made you lightheaded. He wouldn’t mind getting used to this, “Lemme clean ya up, princess”.

One year later.

The anniversary of your first “get together” is today. Joel wanted to skip work all together, but he knew Tommy would give him shit about it. How ironic.

He rented a gorgeous, comfy cabin for the weekend, that’s a thirty minutes drive away from town. Joel coaxed Sarah into a slumber party at her uncle’s, which she would’ve very happily agreed to either way. But she’s a smart kid and she chose to haggle for a later bedtime and ice cream for dessert both nights.

He wanted to take the extra time to prepare everything you might need, from basic essentials like food or first aid kits, to extra entertainment options like books or puzzles. He doubts they’ll need the latter though.

——

But then again, it’s April, and a storm was closing in. Rendering the drive there too dangerous to make during the night. And the storm is predicted to last the whole weekend, even threatening to close schools on Monday.

“I’m just upset you didn’t get your money’s worth from that cabin” you say with worried expressions as you put away the food that you aimlessly packed earlier.

Joel brings the last of the suitcases in, sitting them by the door. “The owners seem pretty nice, bet they’ll understand and agree to push the reservation back”

“Then, that settles it.” You sighed and closed the fridge with finality. “We’re having our anniversary weekend here” you approached him and wrapped your arms around his neck.

He instinctively placed his hands on the dip of your waist, and grunted with furrowed eyebrows “I got a long ass list of things I wanted to do to you in that cabin, now ‘s just sitting in my wallet mockin’ me”.

“It’s for the better, gives me time to make my own list” you teased him with a wink and a bite to your lower lip.

He squeezed your waist with a low, gravel groan. Eyes on your lips in a strong, hungry stare.

But before he can act on his thoughts you unwrap yourself from his tight grasp and turn away with a shout that carries upstairs “Sarah, change of plans! We’re staying here for the weekend!”

Hearing her footsteps descending the stairs, Sarah asked “you’re staying with us too?”. She squeals when you nod with a bright grin. “Now we can watch that movie I told you about last week!” With that, she drags you into the living room, gushing to you about the movie while you listen with interest and occasional oohs and aahs and reactions Joel knows are genuine.

Every other sound dies down as one thought only echoes in his head.

Oh god, please let me keep her.

The black, velvet box burns a hole in his suitcase. And item no.1 on his list sits idle by, just waiting to be checked.

He knows you’ll say yes, this isn’t a subject you avoid. You’re both aware of what you want in a relationship and you communicate your needs to each other. So you’re both sure that you’re on the same page. The element of surprise lies in the timing and method only.

As he looks at you and his daughter, he knows that this feels right. This is how it is supposed to be.

Okay, he owes Tommy an apology. Because now he understands disgusting, lovesick smiles and the urge to get out of work early. He understands six month anniversaries, because when he’s with you; there isn’t a damn thing he wouldn’t do for the mere chance to make you happy.

A Sweet, delightful, damn-good coffee making, thoughtful, eager, greedy, dreamy little thing.

My Sweet, delightful, damn-good coffee making, thoughtful, eager, greedy, dreamy little thing.

——

A/N : Again, if you’re still here, I love you so much & you made my day <333 pls tell me your thoughts! I write cuz i love doing it but i need to know if i should continue to upload or just let the contents of my delulu brain stay in my phone 🫣

Loon out, luv yaa <33

#undercoveraprilshowerschallenge #joel miller x f!reader #joel x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel x reader #joel miller #joel tlou #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller fic

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joelscoffeemugtlou · 2 days

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do you get deja vu?

follow me on instagram @joelscoffeemug for more TLOU photo mode captures :)

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sinful-mind-joyful-thoughts · 11 hours

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𝙎𝙦𝙪𝙞𝙧𝙢 | sᴏᴜᴘ

Read part one here - Squirm...

screencaps and gifs : @din-jarring they are amazing, literally brainwashes me every single time she posts, love you pook 🫶🏻

Pairing: dark!Raider!Joel Miller x dark!Raider!Tommy Miller x dark!Raider!Tess Servopoulos x fem!reader

Warnings/tags: MDNI 18+, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, BLOOD, VIRGIN READER, UNprotected sex wrap it before you tap it kids,food, hunger, kidnapping, degradation, praise, mean!Joel, toxic!Joel, mean people, toxic people, fear, waterboarding (with soup), choking, gagging, talks of sex, talks of anal sex, voyeurism, being held down, ripping off clothes, groping, kissing, spanking, crying, begging, masturbation M and F, Death threats, Guns, Gun insertion (mouth and vaginal), stripping, cum, cum description, hand jobs, blowjobs, orgasm,cum play kinda, THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION, YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR THE CONTENT YOU CONSUME

Summary: Caught and brought to a new place you meet new faces and feelings.

WC: 4.2K

A/n : Sorry, I was a little late to post pt 2, but enjoy 🫶🏻

He had brought you to a house that barely felt like a home, its cold and unwelcoming atmosphere, a stark contrast to any sense of familiarity. The faces inside offered no solace, just a chilling reminder of your isolation from the man who had violated you. You pushed away thoughts of the horrifying event, trying to focus instead on the bowl of soup before you. Hunger gnawed at your insides, but the thought of not nourishing yourself felt like a silent protest against your dire circumstances.

Seated beside you was the man who had taken you, his presence a constant source of discomfort and fear. It struck you suddenly that you didn't even know his name, adding to the weight of your unease. To your left sat a woman with long brown hair, older than you and marked by scars. You stole glances around the table, avoiding prolonged eye contact with anyone. In the midst of the bustling room, a man's striking resemblance to your captor left you feeling unnerved. You resisted the urge to dwell on the chilling familiarity, instead turning your attention elsewhere.

As you sat there, wrestling with your own inner turmoil, your captor's impatience grew palpable. "What's the matter with you? Why aren't you eating?" he demanded, his voice sharp with irritation.

You flinched at his tone, feeling his eyes bore into you with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. "I-I'm not hungry," you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Not hungry?" he repeated, his voice rising with anger. Without warning, he reached out and grabbed a handful of your hair, yanking your head back roughly.

Pain shot through you, and you couldn't suppress a gasp of pain as tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. "Joel, calm down," the woman beside you interjected, her voice firm but gentle. "You don't want to scare the girl too badly."

Joel's grip on your hair loosened slightly, but his anger still simmered beneath the surface. "Fine," he growled, releasing you with a shove that sent you reeling. "But don't think you can defy me and get away with it."

You swallowed hard, trying to steady your trembling hands as you reached for the spoon, your appetite vanishing in the face of Joel's wrath. It was just another reminder of the power he held over you, a reminder that escape seemed increasingly impossible.

Joel's anger seemed to intensify with each passing moment, his frustration boiling over as he glared at you. "Eat!" he barked, his voice echoing through the room.

Trembling, you forced yourself to take a spoonful of the bitter soup, struggling to swallow it down past the lump in your throat. The taste was nauseating, but you dared not refuse, knowing the consequences would be dire.

As the man who resembled your captor, Joel, leaned in closer, a chill ran down your spine. His eyes bore into yours, filled with an intensity that made your blood run cold. "Who are you?" he demanded, his voice sharp and demanding.

Panic surged within you as you struggled to find the right words. You glanced around the table, seeking a lifeline, but found only unfamiliar faces staring back at you. Joel's twin sat across from you, watching the tense exchange with keen interest.

He noticed your fear. "I'm Tommy. What's your name?"

Feeling the weight of Joel's wrath bearing down on you, you stammered out a response, your voice barely above a whisper. "I-I'm..." After Joel yelled at you, you gave him your name, hoping to appease him in some way.

Joel's eyes narrowed as he watched you, a dangerous glint in his gaze. "It's not hard to behave, is it?" he sneered, his voice dripping with disdain. "Now eat your soup and stay quiet."

His words sent a shiver down your spine, and you obediently brought the spoon to your lips, forcing yourself to swallow another mouthful of the bitter concoction. Each swallow felt like a battle against the rising tide of fear and revulsion.

As you struggled to maintain your composure under Tommy's scrutiny, a sudden text message from the woman beside you caught you off guard. "What's your plan for her?" it read, and before you could react, Joel shot you a smirk.

"Well, Tess..." he drawled, leaning back in his chair. "I fucked her in the van, and the damn thing bled so much she was probably a virgin. But you see, she's real tight in the pussy. I wonder how tight she is in the ass.”

The crude words sent a wave of horror coursing through you, and you felt your heart pound in your chest. The laughter that erupted from the rest of the table only added to your sense of dread.

"NO!" you cried out, unable to contain your fear and revulsion any longer.

Ignoring your protest, Joel turned to his men with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Leave. All of you, except Tommy and Tess," he commanded, his voice cold and commanding.

The men exchanged glances before filing out of the room, leaving you alone with Joel, Tommy, and Tess. The tension in the air was palpable, and you had a nagging feeling that something bad was about to happen.

With a cruel grin, Joel grabbed your arm roughly, his grip like a vise as he forced the bowl of soup to your lips. "Drink it," he growled, his breath hot against your face.

You recoiled, the bitter taste of the soup making you gag, but Joel's grip only tightened, his fingers digging into your flesh painfully. "I said drink!" he hissed, his voice dripping with malice.

Tears welled in your eyes as you choked down the revolting liquid, each swallow feeling like a betrayal of your own dignity. Joel's laughter echoed in your ears, mocking your suffering.

He didn't stop, continuously pouring the soup into your mouth, the liquid spilling down your chin and soaking your clothes. You coughed and sputtered, struggling to breathe as he relentlessly forced you to consume it.

When the bowl was finally empty, Joel shoved you roughly onto the table, your ass in the air, the dried remnants of his cum and your blood staining your dress and leg from the van. You struggled against him, but his strength was overpowering, pinning you down with ease.

"Look at her," he sneered, his hand gripping your hair as he forced your head up. "A pathetic little whore, just begging for it."

You whimpered, the humiliation and shame crushing down on you like a weight, suffocating you. You felt dirty, violated, and utterly helpless in the face of Joel's cruelty. All you could do was pray for it to be over soon, to escape this nightmare and find some semblance of peace.

"Tommy, Tess," Joel's voice sliced through the air, authoritative and unyielding. "Hold her down."

Tommy hesitated, his expression conflicted as he glanced between you and Joel. "Joel, come on, man. This ain't right," he protested, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

Tess scoffed at his hesitation. "Oh, please, Tommy. It didn't work on the last girl Joel brought home. What makes you think it'll work on this one?" she interjected, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

Tommy's jaw tensed at Tess's words, a flicker of frustration crossing his features. "Yeah, well, no shit it won't work now," he muttered under his breath, his bitterness palpable.

With a resigned sigh, he reluctantly reached out to hold your arms down, his touch firm and unyielding. Despite his initial resistance, there was a chilling resolve in his eyes, a silent acknowledgment of the brutality of their actions.

You instinctively tried to wriggle free from their tight grip, but their hold was unyielding, suffocating in its grasp. Joel's hand trailed between your thighs, his touch invasive and mocking. "Did I forget to rip these?" he jeered, his words dripping with contempt. "Or did you put them back on so you could save all my cum that was dripping out of your pretty pussy?" With a swift tug, he tore at your panties, the fabric ripping with a sound that echoed through the room.

Your breath caught in your throat as Joel's lips trailed from your calf to your lower back, his touch igniting a firestorm of revulsion and fear within you. His hand slid up your dress, each movement leaving a trail of dread in its wake.

Before you could protest, his palm connected with your exposed flesh, the sharp sting of his slap reverberating through your body. "You need to learn, sweetheart," he growled, his voice dripping with malice. "What I say goes."

As the sting of his slap lingered on your skin, Joel's grip tightened, his dominance palpable in the air. "Count them," he commanded, his voice cold and commanding. "For every spank, I'll give you a rule to remember."

You swallowed hard, the weight of his words sinking in as fear coursed through your veins.

"One," you gasped, your voice barely above a whisper, as the second spank landed with brutal force.

"Rule number one," Joel's voice cut through the air like a knife, his tone chillingly calm. "You belong to me now. Your body, your mind, everything. Remember, sweet pea, I control whether you live or die."

"Two," you whimpered, each strike sending waves of pain through your trembling body. Fear gripped you tightly, knowing that Joel held the power to end your life in an instant. But in that moment of terror, a glimmer of relief washed over you as you realized he spared your life.

"Rule number two," Joel's voice was a sinister whisper, his breath hot against your ear. "You speak when spoken to. Your voice is mine to command."

The relentless rhythm of his slaps echoed in the room, each strike sending shockwaves of agony through your body.

"Three," you gasped, tears stinging your eyes as the onslaught continued.

"Rule number three," Joel's words were a cruel taunt, his laughter mingling with your cries. "Your desires mean nothing. Your only purpose is to obey."

The sound of his hand meeting your skin became a symphony of pain, drowning out any semblance of resistance.

"Four," you choked out, your voice trembling with each syllable.

"Rule number four," Joel's voice dripped with malice, his grip tightening as he relished in your suffering. "You forget who you were. There is only me, and there is only now."

The world around you seemed to blur as his assault persisted, each strike eroding away at your sense of self.

"Five," you managed to gasp out, the agony threatening to consume you entirely.

"Rule number five," Joel's words were a final decree, his dominance unyielding. "You will learn to love the pain. It's the only thing you'll ever know."

The onslaught of blows came faster now, each strike landing with brutal precision, leaving your flesh ablaze with searing agony. You squirmed helplessly against the iron grip of Tommy and Tess, your cries stifled by the relentless assault.

Joel's laughter cut through the air like a knife, mocking your pain as tears streamed down your cheeks, mingling with the sweat and blood that trickled down your back.

"There's a good girl," he taunted, his voice dripping with sadistic pleasure. "Let it out. Let me hear you scream."

With each strike, your resolve crumbled, your spirit shattered by the merciless brutality of his punishment. You cried out in anguish, the pain consuming you whole as Joel's cruel laughter echoed in your ears, a haunting reminder of your helplessness in the face of his relentless dominance.

As the onslaught of blows began to slow, Joel's strikes became more calculated, each one landing with precision on your already battered flesh. The pain was excruciating, every impact sending waves of agony coursing through your body.

"Enough," Joel commanded, his voice cold and commanding. "Let her go."

Tommy and Tess released their grip on you, allowing you to slump forward, your body trembling with pain and exhaustion. Joel pulled you into his lap, his jeans rubbing against your raw, beaten skin, sending fresh waves of discomfort radiating through you.

"Good girl," he murmured, his tone disturbingly gentle compared to moments before. "You're learning. Remember, what I say goes. Always."

Joel's gaze shifted to Tommy as you squirmed uncomfortably in his lap, desperately seeking a spot that wasn't ablaze with pain. "Tommy, fetch my pistol," he commanded, his voice cold and authoritative.

Tess and Tommy exchanged shocked glances. "Joel? Before we've even gotten a turn?" Tess protested, her voice tinged with apprehension. Fear clenched at your heart at the mention of the pistol. You didn't want to die.

"I didn't say to shoot her, goddamn it, y'all are sensitive," Joel snapped, his frustration evident in his tone. He sighed heavily before continuing, "Just get comfortable, and you," he grabbed your face roughly, forcing you to meet his gaze, "it's not supposed to be comfortable. Now stay still."

Tommy hurried off to retrieve the pistol, while Tess positioned themselves in front of Joel's chair, obediently following his orders to watch. You sat still, trying to suppress the sobs threatening to escape as you braced yourself for whatever came next. As Tommy handed the pistol off to Joel and positioned himself next to Tess.

Joel's laughter filled the room as he accepted the pistol from Tommy, his eyes dancing with sadistic amusement. With a menacing smirk, he pressed the cold metal barrel against the neckline of your dress, causing your breath to hitch in terror. The fabric stretched under the pressure before snapping back into place, sending a shiver of fear coursing through you.

Glancing between Tommy and Tess, Joel's expression dared them to act. After a tense moment, Tess stepped forward, her hands confident as she reached for the hem of your dress. With a swift motion, she began to peel the fabric away, revealing the vulnerable skin beneath.

Meanwhile, Joel moved behind you, his fingers deftly unhooking your bra with practiced ease. As the garment fell away, leaving you exposed and vulnerable, Joel's gaze hardened. "No touching," he commanded, his voice laced with a dangerous edge. "She hasn't had my dick in her ass yet, so there's no point in sharing yet. Just watch."

Turning his attention back to you, Joel's eyes bore into yours with an intensity that made your blood run cold. "Give them a show," he ordered, his tone dripping with malice. With a cruel grin, he began to trace the path of the gun along your skin, sending shivers of fear down your spine.

With every inch of exposed skin, Joel's sadistic grin widened. He traced the contours of your body with the cold metal of the pistol, his touch sending shivers down your spine. "Such a pretty little thing," he taunted, his voice dripping with malice. "All naked and vulnerable."

As he continued to torment you with the gun, his words grew more depraved. "Bet you're wondering what I'm gonna do with this," he mused, his tone filled with sickening excitement. "Maybe I'll use it to fuck you in the ass."

Your heart hammered in your chest as you braced yourself for whatever twisted game Joel had in store. The weight of the pistol against your skin felt like a ticking time bomb, each moment dragging out the agony of anticipation.

"Maybe I'll use it here," Joel's voice dripped with malice as he suddenly pressed the cold, hard barrel of the gun into your mouth. The metallic taste was overwhelming as you complied with his command, the weight of the weapon heavy on your tongue. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment, and a rush of adrenaline flooded your veins.

Glancing over at Tess and Tommy, Joel's eyes gleamed with sadistic pleasure at their reactions. Tommy's hands were shamelessly buried in his pants, indulging in his own depravity, while Tess, stripped down to her bra, caressed her breasts with a sickeningly soft touch.

Returning his gaze to you, Joel's grip on your neck tightened, forcing you to look upwards. Your throat constricted around the gun barrel as he pushed it deeper, eliciting a gag reflex. His laughter echoed through the room, a chilling soundtrack to your degradation. "Come on, take it. Come on," he taunted, his voice laced with perverse excitement.

With a cruel twist, Joel abruptly removed the gun from your mouth, leaving you gasping and coughing for air. The taste of metal lingered on your tongue as you struggled to regain your composure, tears stinging your eyes from the violent intrusion.

Ignoring your distress, Joel's eyes glittered with amusement as he admired the effect of his torment. "Pathetic," he spat, his tone dripping with disdain. "You can't even handle a little gun in your mouth."

Joel roughly turned your head to face Tess and Tommy, positioning you back-to-back with him, creating an unsettling image of depravity. Tess had her hands buried in her pants, mirroring Tommy's lewd actions. Meanwhile, Joel's touch grew more invasive as he groped your body with the cold metal of the gun, each touch sending a shiver of revulsion down your spine.

"You like that, huh?" Joel taunted, his voice dripping with contempt as he pressed the gun teasingly close to your trembling body. "Bet you've never had anything like this before."

You squirmed uncomfortably under his touch, feeling exposed and vulnerable as he continued to taunt and degrade you in front of Tess and Tommy. The weight of their lecherous gazes only added to your sense of shame and helplessness.

Joel's grip tightened around the gun as he abruptly thrust the cold metal barrel into your pussy without warning, causing you to gasp in shock and pain. The sensation was overwhelming—a mix of burning agony and icy coldness that made your entire body tense with discomfort.

Despite the searing pain that coursed through your body, there was a perverse and unsettling sensation that accompanied Joel's crude violation. It was as though amidst the agony, there lingered a twisted form of pleasure—a dark and forbidden allure that sent conflicting waves of desire and revulsion washing over you.

As the cold metal of the gun's barrel plunged into you with each merciless thrust, there was an undeniable arousal that stirred within you, mingling with the anguish and fear that consumed your senses. It was a sickening realization, one that filled you with shame and self-loathing even as your body betrayed you with its traitorous response.

Each jagged edge of the gun's barrel seemed to ignite a primal fire within you, awakening sensations that you had never dared to acknowledge before. Despite the brutality of Joel's actions, there was a part of you that craved the twisted pleasure that he elicited—a part of you that hungered for the forbidden ecstasy that danced on the edge of pain.

Amidst the torment, your body pulsed with unfamiliar sensations, a tumultuous symphony of pleasure and agony that left you trembling on the edge of surrender. Every gasp and moan that escaped your lips was a testament to your body's betrayal, succumbing to Joel's relentless domination.

As the gun's barrel thrust into you, each movement ignited a storm of conflicting emotions within you. Pleasure and pain intertwined, blurring the lines between ecstasy and despair. It was a descent into madness, a journey into the depths of your darkest desires, where every sensation threatened to consume you whole.

As the pressure of Joel's grip on your face intensified, his fingers digging into your cheeks, you felt a surge of panic rising within you. You desperately tried to look away, to escape the lewd scene unfolding before your eyes, but Joel's iron grip held you in place.

Tommy and Tess, lost in their own world of ecstasy, moved with a frenzied urgency, their bodies writhing in pleasure. Their hands roamed feverishly over their skin, eliciting moans of delight that filled the room. The air crackled with anticipation, heavy with the heady scent of arousal.

Meanwhile, Joel's touch on your clit sent bolts of electricity coursing through your body, each stroke igniting a firestorm of sensation. You gasped for air, your body trembling with a mixture of pleasure and pain.

"You enjoying this, huh?" Joel's voice dripped with sadistic amusement, his words laced with cruelty. "Such a filthy little slut, aren't you?"

Your heart raced as Joel's fingers continued their relentless assault, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. Just when you thought you couldn't take any more, he thrusts the cold metal barrel of the gun into you with a force that stole your breath away.

"Please...stop," you gasped, your voice strained with desperation. "I feel...I'm gonna pee."

The sensation was overpowering, a torrent of pleasure flooding your senses, leaving you gasping for air. You cried out, a primal sound of ecstasy mingling with the moans of Tommy and Tess, who watched on as if entranced.

Joel chuckled darkly, his eyes alight with sadistic glee. "You're not gonna pee, sweetheart," he taunted, his voice dripping with malice. "You're gonna cum."

Tommy leaned in closer, his eyes glazed with lust as he watched your writhing form. "Damn, she's really getting into it," he remarked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Tess nodded in agreement, her fingers tracing lazy circles over her own body as she watched the spectacle unfold. "She's a natural," she murmured, her voice tinged with envy.

Meanwhile, Joel's grip tightened on your body, his touch both rough and possessive as he continued to manipulate your pleasure. "That's it," he coaxed, his tone sickeningly sweet. "Give in to it. Let it consume you."

As the waves of ecstasy crashed over you, you felt a sense of shame wash over you. But amidst the shame, there was also a strange sense of liberation, a feeling of being utterly and completely consumed by the moment.

The room fell silent, save for the soft, rhythmic grunts of pleasure emanating from Tommy's direction. In the shelter of Joel's arms, you watched as Tommy's release painted his shirt, his outstretched hand halted by Joel's stern intervention. With a deft motion, Joel retrieved the pistol from its slick haven within your body, aiming it unwaveringly at Tommy's head.

"I said no touching," Joel's voice was a low growl, his eyes flashing with dangerous intent. Tess's moans were abruptly cut short as she, too, succumbed to her climax. Joel rolled his eyes in exasperation, his patience wearing thin. "Both of you...leave. NOW!"

As Tommy and Tess hurriedly obeyed, Joel's demeanor shifted, his hand gentle as it patted your head. It was a startling contrast to the violence moments ago. "You see, if you follow my rules, I protect you," he explained, his tone almost soothing. But as he gestured with the gun beneath your chin, the underlying threat was impossible to ignore, casting a stark shadow over his words.

"Now, it's time for you to show your gratitude," Joel's voice was cold, his eyes boring into yours with a predatory gleam. "You owe me, and you're going to thank me properly."

His demand hung in the air, heavy with implication. You felt a chill run down your spine as you realized the extent of his control over you. With trembling hands, you struggled to find the words to comply with his twisted request, knowing that defiance would only invite further punishment.

He guided you to the table, settling you onto the worn wood surface. The ache from the red marks on your ass made you flinch, but Joel silenced you with a gesture. "Shh..." His finger pressed gently against your lips. "I'm going to show you how to please me. Watch closely and learn.”

Joel unfastened his belt and let his pants drop to the floor, revealing his nakedness. He then took your hand and spat into it. "Make sure there's some wetness. If it's dry, it won't feel good," he instructed, his voice low and commanding. Guiding your hand with his, he began to stroke up and down his impressive length. His cock was large, the weight of it filling your hand as you struggled to wrap your fingers around it. "See, it's so simple," he grunted softly as he moved your hand along his shaft.

As you followed Joel's lead, your hand moved rhythmically along his length, slick with saliva and your own nervous sweat. His breath hitched with each stroke, his eyes darkening with lust as he watched your tentative movements. You focused intently on his reactions, trying to gauge what pleased him, all the while feeling a mix of revulsion and fear churn in the pit of your stomach.

Despite the discomfort and fear that pulsed through you, there was a strange sense of power in the act, a twisted form of control that you wielded over him. You couldn't deny the rush of adrenaline that surged through you as you brought him closer and closer to the edge, each stroke of your hand pushing him towards release.

And then, with a guttural groan, Joel's body tensed, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he reached the peak of his pleasure. Hot streams of cum erupted from him, coating your hand and spilling onto the floor below. As he finally released, you felt a sickening mixture of relief and disgust wash over you, knowing that you had played a part in satisfying his twisted desires once again.

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emisprocrastinatingbywriting · 1 day

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Alone and Forsaken

Chapter 7 Summary:

Two weeks after your heat and Joel Miller remained by your side constantly but refused to touch you. Promises are made but after an outburst, can Joel finally open up to you?

Warnings: Past Trauma, Minor Injuries, Angst and Fluff, Smut, Reader & Joel need hugs fr, Local middle aged man tries to open up, Fluffiness overload, Joel gets injured.

A/N: I'm back! Third year at uni is in the bag but exams almost killed me. It's a long one so buckle up for more backstory on the reader, more loverboy Joel and painful confessions. Fluff and smut galore, as always. Warning that some of reader's memories include physical assault and Joel dives into some of his trauma. Take care of yourselves as always!

Chapter 7/20

Chapter 7: Home

“Bring her around back, I want to talk to her.”

A pair of arms wrapped around you and hauled you out of the trunk. A dull throb was pulsing behind your eyes as the guard threw you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Blood dripped from your face and you watched through bleary eyes as it splattered against the back of the guard’s coat.

Two months. Two fucking months of being free, and they had found you because of a mistake. After a month of keeping fires low, slinking around the outskirts of towns and leaving no traces behind, you had been lulled into a sense of comfort. Escaping Paul had been the easy part, traveling alone as an unmated omega was the hard part. After too many close calls with roving bands of raiders that picked through the wreckage of the world for anything they could steal, or anyone, you decided that cities were not for you.

After walking for days along a cracked interstate with nothing but trees to keep you company, you came across a weathered town that looked like it had been dilapidated long before the outbreak. Most of the buildings were barely standing, years of neglect making them shake and shiver in the wind. You walked for nearly an hour before you found a structure that didn’t look like it was going to be torn down by the next rainstorm.

Sat at the very edge of town, away from the main road and any of the residential buildings was a small diner that looked frozen in time. As you pushed open the front door, the bell that hung over it announced your entry. Freezing for a moment with your ears peeled for any indication of danger, the dust covered space greeted you with silence. You relaxed and crept slowly through the diner.

The checkered floors and leather booths reminded you of the Archie comics that your dad used to keep in the bathroom before the outbreak. It was a little run down, with dusty windows and peeling pink paint on the walls, but you loved it. You swept the building for any infected that could be lurking in the shadows, hands shaking as you braced for a stalker to attack. However, you found that your only company was a lonely skeleton in the back office. The shotgun was still propped between their knees and a jagged hole glared at you from the back of the stranger’s head. You winced at the brutal scene, quietly apologizing to the stranger as you eased the gun from their grasp.

The gun felt weird in your hands, too long and heavy with your only previous experience in shooting being a handgun. Still, dodging infected and raiders for the last month with nothing but a hunting knife had been close to impossible. You thought of your close calls. You thought of the shoe you had left behind in a department store after barely managing to squirm out of the grasp of an attacker. You thought of the night you had spent hidden in a vent while a ruthless group of alphas grew progressively angrier as they tried, and failed, to sniff you out. Suddenly the unwieldy 12 gauge felt like a luxury compared to your inevitable fate without it. As gently as you could, you flicked the safety on and placed it on the desk before looking around.

The office itself had clearly doubled as the stranger’s hideaway after the outbreak, with a cot left still unmade and jugs of water left from the previous occupant. The kitchen was still mostly stocked and had semi salvageable expired cans of food left on the shelves. Cobwebs caught in your hair as you moved through the place. The front windows were cloaked in dirt and overgrown shrubbery, effectively shrouding the inside of the dining room from prying eyes. After a month of constant running, this place felt like a sign that you were finally safe from the place you had once called home. You were free.

The month you spent living in the abandoned diner was the first time you felt like yourself. Days were spent pilfering through the abandoned town for anything of use, trading the modest clothes you escaped in for more breathable fabrics. After tossing the old outfit, you managed to get lucky finding some more shells for your gun, some soap and even a pair of boots that could replace your threadbare sneakers. Despite the growing pile of treasures in the tiny office, the real winner was the stash of smutty romances you stumbled upon.

The banned books that Jake had slipped to you back at camp were nothing compared to these. After two weeks, you had already burned through at least six. The best one, in your opinion, was the one with the handsome, older crime boss who finds a lonely bookkeeper and whisks her off into his chaotic life. After your second time rereading the story you decided it was time to pick up a hobby that wasn’t going to throw you into a heat.

You were unsure if Paul or Josiah were still looking for you but they were not the only threat. After some deliberation, you decided it was time to brush up on your self defense. For the next few days you jabbed and sliced at the air with your knife, trying to perfect your form in case any raider jumped out at you. With that perfected, you moved on to practicing your shot.

The first attempt was rough, the force from it nearly knocking you over, but you kept at it. Before long, trees, buildings, mailboxes and stop signs all became your targets. You walked freely through town with a gun in your hands and nobody to answer to. It made you feel powerful. A stupid feeling to have in hindsight.

Two months of dodging your fate ended with one of Josiah’s men taking you by surprise. The moment you returned from a stroll through town, the nameless alpha had slammed the but of a rifle into your nose. You tried to reach for the shotgun but it was kicked away, after which a boot entered your field of vision and knocked you unconscious. A bump in the road had awoken you in the trunk. After a cramped ride where you tried to not pass out from the pain in your skull, you were finally back home.

You could only assume that what you were being carried towards was your own dramatic execution. Josiah’s future words rang in your ears as you imagined him declaring that no one, not even family, was above his word. You imagined the tightness of your mother’s features as they hung you and hoped Rachel knew enough to keep Miriam away. She would be kicking and screaming at the guards. You could see it all so clearly and it didn’t even scare you anymore. In this world, there were worse fates. At least you had tasted freedom for a moment.

The wind was knocked out of you as the guard dumped you onto the ground. You groaned, a sharp sting growing on your side as you tried to get your bearings. Before you could place yourself, a large hand came down and wrenched your head backwards. Tears formed in your eyes from the sting in your scalp and you struggled to focus your bleary eyes.

“Welcome back Angel, you’ve been missed.”

As the fogginess in your vision dissipated, Paul’s pale face appeared with his thin lips pulled into a sinister grin. His blue eyes raked over your figure as you struggled weakly, amusement and sick lust making him smile wider. Paul tightened his grip and you winced. At that moment, you hated him so much for everything he had done and hated him even more for everything he was bound to do. Before you could even think about it, a wad of spit flew from your mouth and landed on his pale cheek.

Paul cussed and you laughed in his spit soaked face as it shifted into something much darker. In an instant he slammed your body down to the ground. Your skull thumped back against the earth and your ears started to ring. A groan bubbling up from your throat was cut off as Paul wrapped his hands around your neck. His eyes were cold in comparison to the sick pleasure portrayed on his face. You used every bit of strength to fight him off but it was no use. Paul laughed and leaned over you, his face inches from yours as he spoke.

“You know, if it was anyone else I would have let it go. But you,” your eyes bulged as his grip tightened, “You’re different. Sneaky, mouthy, and such a fucking tease. I knew you needed a strong alpha like me to train you, someone who wouldn’t spare the rod on your entitled ass.”

Despite the dots speckling the corners of your vision, you fought him as hard as you could. The smacks to his arms and chest got progressively weaker as your body succumbed to his grip around your neck. Your chest burned with the need for air, but you tried desperately to stay awake for as long as you could. This is it, you thought, this is how I’m going to die.

Just before the lack of oxygen finally took you under, Paul leaned down and whispered in your ear, “It’s okay Angel, you’ll be mine soon enough.”

A cry echoed in the quiet room. Your heart raced painfully in your chest, making it nearly impossible to breathe as you choked down sobs. The walls shrunk around you and the need to flee your surroundings suddenly became overwhelming.

As you moved to get up, a heavy weight across your chest stopped you. Terror pierced your racing heart as the warm object pinned you to the sheets. Paul’s grip on your neck still lurked in the corners of your mind and you started to thrash against the weight. A masculine grunt came from your left and you screeched, wrestling your way out from under the stranger. Clumsily, you dropped onto the floor and rolled away, scuttling back until your shoulder blades hit the wall.

“Darling? Wha - Hey, where’d you go?”

Your eyes snapped back up to the bed and the memory you were trapped in moments before began to slink away. A shaky sigh escaped your lips at the sight of a very groggy and confused looking Joel. He blinked down at you as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Joel’s curls were adorably flattened on one side of his head, meanwhile the other side looked like he had suffered an electrical shock. You sighed at the sight. The softness he exuded in the mornings suited him. You smiled weakly at him and his eyes narrowed at your trembling form against the wall.

Slowly, like a hunter trying not to scare a wobbly deer, Joel eased himself onto the floor. You tried to focus on tracing the scars on his burly chest with your eyes, unwilling to look at him head on as he knelt before you. Joel cupped your face, his rough hands making you hum as he tried to tilt your face towards him. After a few moments of dodging eye contact, you relented and slid your gaze up to meet his.

“Baby,” was all he said before you immediately broke down.

Joel shushed you as you burrowed your face into his neck, crying against his skin as he leaned back against the side of the bed. Gingerly, he pulled you onto his lap and wrapped his strong arms around you. He began to rub soothing circles against your hips, letting you snuffle at his musk as he whispered sweet nothings. You cried and Joel held you, pulling you back into his embrace each time you tried to pull away prematurely. After the third time that you tried to pull away from him, he snapped.

“God dammit honey, just cry. I won’t judge ya, just stop pulling away for Christ’s sake.”

You laughed at his words. It was like Joel knew you better than you knew yourself, like he knew that you had always had to be strong. He wanted you to be soft with him and so you let yourself cry. After a few minutes of sobbing against him, the shaking slowly ceased as the dream receded from your mind.

“Had another dream huh?” Joel asked quietly.

He sighed at your silent nod.

The dreams were a new addition to your night and they had taken a toll. After your heat had petered out, his rut had followed. You were worried at first, scared that he would retreat back to his place on the couch and pretend that nothing had happened. Joel had said he loved you during his rut, but he couldn’t have meant it. Right? The fear of losing him had plagued your mind the first morning. However, after a mere ten minutes of needless worrying, you were pleasantly surprised by a kiss dropped into your hair at breakfast.

“No oatmeal, as requested darling,” was murmured against your bedhead as Joel placed the plate in front of you.

Once you had bugged him about his promise that you could help out, the two of you had cleaned up in peaceful silence. Joel seemed to be in good spirits, even rolling his eyes when you whipped him with a towel halfway through the task. Despite the stern look on his face, you could see the small smile that pulled at the corners of his lips. The first night after your heat with Joel was perfect. With the burning need that raged through your bodies finally quelled, the two of you had slept soundly in each other’s arms.

It was the second night that a nightmare about Paul jerked you from sleep. Despite Joel’s vehement assurances, you were mortified at the memory. He had woken up that night to you kicking and screaming at him. As you fought against him, he had expertly rolled the two of you over and caged you in. Joel was patient that night, using gentle words to coax you back to reality until you were crying in his arms.

After that first nightmare, two weeks passed and every night the memory of Paul would come back to haunt you. The recurring dreams made you dread sleep. Each night, you tried everything to ignore the urge to rest. You read, you tried and failed to play guitar, you drew terrible caricatures that made Joel laugh, and you even risked his wrath by asking him about his past. Unfortunately for you, Joel had learned how to dodge your questions and began to take that as a cue that you needed to sleep. You tried to evade it but eventually he dragged you to bed, no matter how many probing questions you sent his way.

With two weeks gone, nothing had changed. Paul appeared each night to torment you and Joel comforted you afterwards. You felt guilty but he refused to accept any apology.

“S’not real darling. You’re here, you’re with me. I gotcha baby,” Joel crooned as you tried to match his steady breaths.

The shakes slowly petered out and you sighed, kissing his shoulder in thanks before you leaned back to look at him. Joel’s face nearly always remained schooled but his emotions were plain as day in his eyes. Worry, sadness, anger, and love, all danced in the pools of brown as they raked over your figure.

“It was him again, from when they caught me. He was choking me and no matter how hard I -,” you stopped and shook your head before the sobs started again.

There were a few other memories that had resurfaced in the past two weeks but that was the only one that came back consistently. Joel had listened to your account of the memory in full the first night it appeared, and you watched as he tried not to burst the blood vessel in his forehead. Rage poured off of him and soured his comforting scent, pulling a whine from you that forced him to soften his anger. He had remained soft every night since.

Joel pulled you from your thoughts as his forehead knocked against yours gently. You closed your eyes, breathing the same air as him for a moment as he brushed his hands up and down your sides. The warmth that radiated off of his skin eased the chill of the early morning and you sunk further into his lap as Joel tried to gather his words.

“I know that… I’ve… Well, you know after Sarah, there were a lot of nights where… Fuck… And with El- no… Shit honey, m’sorry, I’m real bad at this.”

You giggled and Joel huffed a laugh before he tried again.

“Memories have a bad habit of chasing you. And I’ve deserved mine for everything I- … Well, anyways, I know how it feels to have dreams make you feel like you did when they happened, but they’re not real. Not anymore, even if it feels like it,” he said.

Without opening your eyes, you asked quietly, “What happened to yours? Will my… Do they ever go away?”

Joel stiffened for a moment and you winced, rubbing your face against his neck until you felt him slowly relax again. His rut had certainly forced him to be vulnerable with you and after it was over, Joel tried hard to not close himself off again entirely. Whether it be through fleeting kisses or soft words, Joel Miller was trying for you, even though you could tell it was hard for him. It made you love him all the more.

“Honestly I don’t know. I had them every night before we… Well -,” he cleared his throat, “- before we - er - got together. But now I - I don’t know. They’re just gone. Maybe they’ll come back one day. I hope not, but who knows.”

You snorted.

“You have literally knotted me and you can’t bring yourself to say that we fucked? I can. We fucked. Easy as that, see?,” you jabbed.

Joel rolled his eyes and leaned forward to bite playfully at your shoulder as you squealed.

He tsked, “Tryin’ to be a gentleman here darling. Christ, you’ve got some mouth on ya.”

You laughed at his words and Joel smiled at your change in demeanor before you grew serious once more.

“I really hope my dreams go away too,” you whispered.

Joel made a sympathetic noise as you sat there sullenly, carding your fingers through the salt and pepper hair that covered his chest as you tried to blink away tears. Before you could sink too far into yourself, he snatched one of your hands from his chest and brought it to his lips. The small act made you forget the misery that panged in your heart and you smiled at him.

“Made you something,” he murmured.

Excitement rushed through you and you perked up. Joel laughed and lifted you back onto the bed, placing you gently on the soft sheets before he moved to get up. Before he could escape, you threw your arms around his neck and kissed him. Joel let out a surprised noise as your lips met his, freezing for a millisecond before he leaned in.

One calloused hand pushed you forward by the small of your back while the other held your neck in place. His tongue ran along the seam of your lips and you moaned, granting him access to your mouth. You whined at the heat that radiated off of Joel, all you could think about was how his warm body felt against your own while he slammed into you. Need crept up from your core, different from the need you experienced during your heat but no less demanding.

Before the two of you could get too carried away, Joel broke the kiss abruptly. His cheeks were dusted with pink and his lips were swollen. A string of spit connected your lips as you parted and you whined at the sight. You watched as Joel’s dilated pupils looked down at your lips, his irises slivers around the all consuming black that sent shivers down your spine.

You wanted this. You wanted him so badly that you could hardly think but as you moved to lean in once more, Joel cleared his throat and stood up. The whine that left you was embarrassing but you didn’t care, and it seemed neither did he. Without another word, he leaned down once more, giving you a quick kiss on the cheek before he stood up.

“Just gotta go get it, one sec.”

Joel spun on his heel and waltzed out of the room, leaving you with wetness gathering between your legs. You tried not to be annoyed but it was hard. He had been more open in his feelings for you since his rut but kept his body off limits.

After days of his tongue, fingers and cock making you cum until drool dripped from the corners of your mouth, he cruelly shut off the tap. It was frustrating, but you tried to make due with the sweet words and heated makeouts. It was better than nothing. You needed Joel in any way he would have you, which made you feel progressively more pathetic each time he rejected you but you ignored the sting in hopes that he would break someday.

Joel interrupted your sulking as he came back into the room. He cautiously stepped forwards and smiled nervously. You swallowed a laugh at the alpha’s boyish demeanor as he stopped in front of you. Joel sighed and thrusted the gift out from behind his back.

“It’s not much darling but I - Well, I don’t know. I just think that if we had met before the outbreak I would’ve gotten you flowers. But I mean, I can’t just go to the store anymore so I don’t know, I made this,” he explained shyly.

In his hand was a wooden carving. It was not unlike the carvings that adorned the living room, except this one was delicate. It was a rose made of a light colored wood with petals carved to perfection. They bloomed outward from a skinny stem that was adorned with two small leaves. You gasped and took it from him, twirling the gift in your hand before you spied small lettering under one of the leaves. In careful lines, he had carved a small I love you.

Joel cleared his throat and you looked up. His jaw was set with his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides as he analyzed your reaction. You opened your mouth to praise his gift when he suddenly reached out and tried to snatch it back.

“Joel!,” you admonished, slapping his hands away.

“S’nothing darling. I don’t know why I thought it would be a good idea. You don’t need to guard my feelings, it’s a dumb gift. Barely even a gift really,” Joel rushed out as his cheeks reddened with embarrassment.

After placing the gift down on the bed, you crawled over to the edge and rose to place your hands on his cheeks. His dark eyes snapped to yours, breath catching in his throat as you pressed a soft peck to his lips.

“I love it Joel. I haven’t been given a lot of gifts but that one is definitely my favorite. Thank you. And, um hello? You can’t just give me a gift and then take it back. That’s like against the rules or something. I love it. I love YOU,” you chided.

A small smile bloomed on Joel’s face and he looked away, scuffing his feet against the floor for a moment before he looked back up at you. The redness in his cheeks grew as his teeth worried his bottom lip, guarding the goofy grin that threatened to break out on his face at your praise.

“Well alright then baby, m’glad you like it,” Joel murmured, leaning forward to brush his mouth against yours.

Jumping at the chance, you dove into him again. You pressed the front of your body against Joel’s as your lips met. He groaned and placed his rough hands on your hips, yanking you into him as his tongue mingled with yours. Heart pounding in your ears, your shaky hands tugged at Joel’s soft curls and drifted down his abdomen. Just as you reached his belly button he stopped and pulled back. A pinched groan rattled your chest as he placed his forehead against yours again.

“Dunno if it was worthy of THAT big of a thanks baby,” he chuckled.

You giggled and nipped at the scruff on his jaw as you whispered, “Maybe not, but what if I want you to fuck me anyways?”

Joel groaned as you worried the skin on his neck between your teeth, the action making his hips twitch forward on impulse. You felt his resolve slipping and you pulled back, eyes full of longing as you waited for him to do something. Anything.

“Darling I -,” Joel halted and sucked his teeth.

He stared at your lips for a moment, seemingly at war with himself while you squirmed before him. The impatient whine that rang out seemed to sober him and Joel sighed.

“I should get to making us some breakfast. Can’t have you starving on me when we’ve got chores to be getting to.”

Joel raised your hands to his lips and kissed the backs of them. He ignored your groan, leaving you high and dry on the bed for a second time that morning as he practically jogged out of the room. You sat there slack jawed and frustrated, staring at his hulking frame as he scampered down the hallway.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you scoffed.

A booming laugh echoed from the end of the hall and you cussed. You hadn’t meant for your distress to be that loud but your desperation for Joel had loosened your lips. Sighing, you slipped from the warm sheets.

Save for the undergarments and pants, the clothes that Joel had originally intended to be yours were all but abandoned. Instead, you found yourself in one of Joel’s sweaters or shirts constantly. You loved it and he didn’t seem to mind. In fact, his eyes had lit up the first time you came out in his clothes and continued to since. Plus, the act of wearing his things was like a cheap replacement to the mark you hoped he would one day claim you with.

A chill ran down your spine from the frigid air and you threw one of his flannels over a pair of jeans, tucking the excess fabric into the waistline to keep it from swallowing you whole. You weren’t tiny by any means, but Joel’s broadness meant that his shirts were practically dresses on you. After you shoved your feet into some knit socks, you combed through the knots in your hair. Looking into the mirror, you sighed at your appearance and cursed the outbreak for leaving you without beauty products. Prodding at your hair only seemed to anger the unruly strands so you gave up and turned away from the bedroom.

As you padded into the kitchen, the savory smell of Joel’s cooking wafted in the air. He stood at the stove, humming an unfamiliar tune as he stirred the leftover stew in the pot. He turned and smiled, nodding towards the mug of steaming tea that he left on the counter for you. Shrugging off your thanks, he turned back to the stove.

You eyed the muscles in his strong back flex as he stirred for a moment before you crept up behind him. He chuckled as your arms wrapped his midsection, burrowing your face into his shirt to huff at the deep aroma of sandalwood and bergamot. It tickled your nostrils as you breathed in deeply, making you hum as you swayed against him. Joel squeezed your hand and swayed with you for a moment.

“How ‘bout you get the table set and I’ll finish up?,” Joel asked.

You sighed, giving him one last tight squeeze before you let go and moved towards the cutlery. The front end of the cabin was bursting with light as you strolled towards the table. The morning light shone down on the scuffed wood as you placed the cutlery. Your mind wandered as you worked.

It was the same scuffed wood that had rubbed against your front as Joel had fucked you stupid two weeks prior. The thought of it made you smirk as you remembered his animalistic thrusts. The both of you had been so desperate for each other and now the lust in Joel was just gone. You tried not to dwell on the loss, instead focusing on the thought of him slapping your pussy and forcing you into a mind breaking orgasm as you tried not to cry.

Joel interrupted your thoughts as he emerged from the kitchen with two steaming bowls of food. Picking up on your heated expression immediately, Joel’s eyes darted between the table and you before he chuckled. He shook his head at you, giving you a playfully stern look as he placed breakfast down on the table. You gave him a nervous smile as he pulled out your chair and leaned down to kiss the top of your head. The small act of pulling out your chair was something that he had taken to doing every day, but it never failed to make you blush.

The meal was shared in comfortable silence. His foot knocked against yours and you knocked him back. After one too many nudges, Joel reached down and grabbed your ankle, playfully yanking you forward off your seat.You yelped and dropped the spoon that was halfway to your mouth as you grabbed the edge of the chair to keep your ass on the seat. Joel looked very pleased at the shock on your face as he returned to his food.

“Alright, now eat. We’ve got some chores to finish before the day gets too gone,” he chuckled, placing your foot back on the ground before he moved to shovel stew into his mouth.

You poked him with your foot one last time and giggled at his pointed look before you returned to your breakfast.

- Joel -

Joel watched as the wind ruffled your hair, the sunlight accentuating the high points of your cheekbones as you stooped down towards the river. He tried not to stare but he couldn’t help it.

He was enamored with how you moved and how carefully you treated everything you touched.

Even him, the man that had burned Salt Lake City to the ground with his bare hands. The man that poisoned everything he touched. You even treated him with the utmost care. It made him feel warm and wanted, as well as slightly guilty. Joel didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve you. He knew that, but his feelings for you made it all so much more complicated.

You moved to fill the bucket with water. He watched the muscles in your arms flexing as you drew it back to the surface and up over the bank. There was a part of Joel that wanted to go over and chivalrously offer his assistance but he knew you would just shoo him away. It wasn’t that he didn’t think you could lift it, he was well aware of how strong you were. It was just that he liked having someone to fuss over. It gave him purpose.

Joel sighed wistfully as he watched you stand and wipe at the sweat that covered your brow. As he watched you bend over to pick up the bucket, the breath stalled in his lungs. The jeans that you chose today did little to hide the curves that had filled out since your arrival and he cussed as he felt himself harden.

For two weeks, Joel kept away from you. The memories of your curves, your pretty moans, and your tight cunt all haunted him. Joel wanted nothing more than to stomp over and tear the bucket from your hands. He wanted to tear your pants down and pound into your wet heat right there amongst the snow until you screamed, but he refrained.

Why? That was a question Joel asked himself more and more with each passing day. He had already had you more times than he could count, with each time better than the last, but it wasn’t enough to convince him. He couldn’t do it because he needed to make things right.

Before the outbreak happened, he hadn’t dated much. When Sarah was small, she was an easy excuse. Nobody ever expected the unmated alpha to give up time with his precious pup. However, the older Sarah got, the harder it became to attribute his unwillingness to try on his increasingly independent preteen.

Joel had really tried a couple of times but it never seemed to work out. He even let Sarah and Tommy convince him to sign up for one of those god awful dating sites once but that was also a failure. Joel chalked it up to lack of chemistry or his gruffness each time, but the truth was that he simply didn’t want to sit in a dimly lit restaurant and make small talk with someone who would blanch after he told them about Sarah. He couldn’t stand anyone blanching at the thought of meeting his favorite person, it made him feel sick to his stomach.

Two years before the outbreak, after a date told him that he needed to be realistic about his prospects as an unmated alpha who already had a pup, Joel had simply stopped trying and resigned himself to commitment-free hookups. He preferred it that way anyways. He had his little girl and his idiot brother, what more could he ask for? Once the world had ended, dating and love in general vanished in his mind. It was all about survival. Any dreams of romantic interest or mating was set aside for quick fucks to keep himself from slamming his head through a wall. Nevertheless, after meeting you, Joel remembered how he used to dream about it before Sarah died.

He remembered imagining what it would be like to meet his true mate. His mind would drift off on worksites, thinking about how he might treat them while he waited out a burst of rain in his truck. Joel imagined giving his future mate flowers, opening doors and pulling out seats, giving them soft kisses at the end of a nice date.

He wanted to be the guy that did things just to make his mate smile, all while keeping his touches fleeting until the moment was perfect. That was how he was raised. That was how a gentleman would approach someone they wanted to mate. That was who you deserved. Joel wanted so badly to be that alpha for you, despite the fact that his rut had foiled part of the plan and he now spent most of his time around you hiding his raging boner. He was so close to breaking, and he knew that you were very aware of it. It drove him nuts.

When you had crawled to the end of the bed and wrapped yourself around him, dressed in nothing but his shirt and a cute pair of blue panties, he had nearly lost it. Joel had tried not to think about the slick that undoubtedly pooled in the fabric. He tried not to think about loosening you up with his tongue before driving his cock deep inside of your tight cunt. Practically keeling over with the effort, Joel had barely managed to peel himself away from you so he could scamper off to the kitchen under the guise of making breakfast.

As Joel stood before an unchecked trap in the afternoon sun, he tried to inconspicuously re-adjust himself before you had the chance to look up at him. When he agreed to let you help him with chores he didn’t think about the fact that he would have to listen to your grunts of exertion and see the sweat glistening deliciously on your body as you worked. Day in, day out, it was the sweetest form of torture. A form of torture that made him lock himself in the bathroom at the end of each day to pitifully tug at his cock in the shower, muffling his groans into his fist as he came shamefully to the thought of you.

As you approached him, Joel quickly flipped himself into the waistline of his pants and smoothed his coat over his front to hide any evidence of his arousal. The last thing he needed was to see your knowing smirk at his hard dick. It would only give you more ammo to pierce through his already weakened armor. For years Joel had gone without so much as a twitch from his cock, and now the damn thing never knew when to rest. He was powerless when it came to you.

“I’m gonna head back and shower if that’s it. Do you need any help with the trap? You’ve been standing over it for a hot minute,” you asked sweetly.

Joel’s cock throbbed painfully against the confines of his jeans at the sweet words and the way you looked up at him. The whine that clawed its way up his throat was covered in a strangled cough as he knelt down to mess with the trap. Joel felt your gaze on the back of his head but he elected to ignore it. He knew that if he looked up he would be burying his face in between your pillowy thighs in an instant.

“Yeah uh, that’s fine. M’ just gonna be another minute out here and then I’ll be in,” Joel mumbled as he prodded at the empty trap.

Joel waited for you to leave but your feet stayed rooted to the ground in front of him. With no other choice, he stood and slowly met your gaze. A line formed between the brows of your pinched face. He watched as you wrestled with your thoughts and tried not to puke from nervousness.

“You could… um… You could always join me. In the shower, I mean. If you wanted to,” you proposed.

The hopeful look on your face was too much. He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. Fuck yes, is what he wanted to say. But instead, Joel stood there dumbfounded as your cheeks grew redder with each second that passed. His stomach twisted as your hopeful expression fell and still, Joel said nothing. His mind screamed at him but he felt like he was locked in himself, unable to move, unable to talk, unable to think. Instead, he watched your crumpled face turn back towards home.

Joel watched you leave in silence, unsure of what to do until a breeze laced with your soured scent slapped him in the face. With his instincts screaming at him to keep you safe and cared for, he surged forward. He dropped his tools and clumsily ran after you. The muffled cries that Joel heard made him wince. He shakily reached out to touch your back, but dropped his hand when you wheeled around to face him.

Your face was red and splotchy, with tears leaking from the corners of your eyes as you frowned at him. Joel froze again. An overwhelming feeling of guilt dizzied him. He tried to think of something to say as he stood before you but words failed him.

“Are you ever going to touch me again? Or am I that horrible?,” you snapped.

He stumbled back as if you had slapped him. His mind reeled at the questions.

You sniffed, shaking your head again as you continued, “I know that I’m not what you might have wanted for yourself, I know that I’m… me. But you can’t just promise to mate me one day and then be done with me the next. Was it just the rut talking? Are you disgusted with me now? Because if so tell me or else it’s… It’s mean Joel! You’re being mean to me.”

The words hit slammed into Joel’s chest like a ton of bricks. Pain nipped at his heart and he roughly yanked your face towards his. He searched your eyes as he tried to comprehend how you could possibly think he felt that way.

“Baby, I love you because you’re you. You’re everything I could have hoped for. I just haven’t hoped for anything in a long time sweetheart, so I ain’t great at it. But all I do, day in and day out, is think about you and how good you look in my bed,” he urged, thumb coming down to trace over your lip as it trembled.

“Then, why -,” you started to ask, only to be cut off by Joel’s rushed words.

“Because! I - shit honey. I wanted to do this right, I wanted to treat you like a lady - my lady. I know we already… fucked, as you worded it but you deserve a gentleman. Someone to treat you with respect, someone to court you and all that before claimin ya,” he said, the words strained and clumsy.

You stared at him silently as Joel’s eyes searched yours for any sign of understanding. Just as he opened his mouth to keep going, he was cut off by laughter. His brow furrowed in confusion as you chuckled in front of him.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me Joel,” you wheezed in between shaky breaths.

Joel gawked at your reaction.

“What is this? Is it 1847? Are you gonna ask my father for my hand? Gonna make him pay a dowry to you? Gonna mount me in front of the whole wedding party to make sure the bond is consummated?,” you teased.

Joel scoffed and placed his hands on his hips. Cocking his hip out, his lips came together in a tight line to keep his annoyance at bay. He knew you couldn’t possibly understand what it was like before so he kept his snarky words to himself. When Joel looked up, the previous laughter turned into a sweet grin and he melted. Your arms wrapped around his neck, effectively shutting off his brain as his senses were overwhelmed by you.

“Joel, I get what you’re trying to do but there’s no need. You’re good to me everyday. I’ve never had anyone love me like you do. But I just… I miss you and you’re right in front of me. Don’t you miss me daddy?,” you asked, the last part coy as your eyes twinkled with mischief.

He choked on his spit and coughed as your fingers tugged at the curls on the back of his neck. Joel closed his eyes and groaned with every ounce of restraint leaving his body. He felt as one of your hands moved from his hair and dragged down the softness of his abdomen. The hand grasped his belt buckle, pulling his hips flush with your own. Joel’s eyes snapped open and he growled as your fingers inched along his waistline.

“Fuck it,” Joel sighed as he threw you over his shoulder.

- You -

You squealed as Joel’s rough hand swatted your ass. His strides were long and determined as he moved through the trees. He ignored the way you giggled and begged him to put you down. The daddy card was a cheap card to play but you knew it would work.

“Just HAD to say that,” he griped, “Tryna do something nice for ya darling, tryna treat you right. But all you want is for me to treat you like my little slut, is that it? Need my cock in you that fucking bad huh?”

His dirty words made you squirm and moan. The squirms earned you another quick slap to your ass as Joel reached the stairs to the cabin and took them two at a time. The door was practically ripped off of its hinges on the way in from the force of his pull. You gasped at his strength, half turned on by the spectacle and half pissed that he would risk tearing the door off the cabin in the middle of winter.

“Joel!,” you meekly scolded through a thick cloud of arousal.

He didn’t answer you. Instead, Joel simply smacked your ass once more before he slammed it closed. His determined strides reached the bedroom in seconds and he tossed you on to the bed. You bounced against the mattress from the force of his throw and scrambled to position yourself in a more alluring way. Anticipation boiled in your gut, and you watched as his eyes zeroed in on the wet spot on your panties.

“Strip and lay down on the bed,” his gruff voice demanded.

You paused for a moment. His quick shift from caring mate to domineering alpha both excited and dizzied you. All Joel had to do was give you a pointed look and you sprung into action, clumsily tearing off of your clothes under his stare. He smirked, slowly taking off his leather belt and unbuttoning his flannel as he watched your desperate movements.

After kicking the panties off, you laid back against the cool sheets and tried not to lose your mind. Joel shrugged off his flannel, letting it fall to the floor before he unzipped his jeans. Your mouth watered at the sizeable bulge in his boxers that peaked out from his pants as he stalked around the bed. Joel reached down and softly moved errant strands of hair from your face. The smile that he gave you as you nuzzled his hand made your chest ache.

“Sweet girl,” he praised quietly.

Joel leaned down and kissed your forehead, letting his lips linger before he grabbed both of your hands. You whined as you realized the purpose of the belt. Need rushed through you, slick starting to stick to your inner thighs as Joel expertly wrapped the leather around your wrists. He stopped, kissing both of them softly before he secured them to the headboard. He quickly checked the hold, making sure they weren’t too tight before he loomed over you.

“If they are too tight or if you want to stop, just let me know m’kay? Want to make you feel so good honey,” Joel drawled as he left a soft peck on the tip of your nose.

Blushing at him, you nodded enthusiastically at his words. He smiled and moved to stand at the end of the bed as you squirmed. Joel reached down and pulled your legs apart, his ravenous gaze trained on the slick that dripped onto the sheets. Your face burned at his unflinching gaze. Suddenly overwhelmed by the attention, you tried to snap your legs closed but Joel stopped you.

“Don’t you dare hide from me sweetheart. You’re fucking perfect,” he chastised as he eased your legs back apart.

A strained moan came from Joel at the sight of you laid bare. One of his hands moved to palm his cock through his boxers. Joel pulled himself from the confines of his jeans and your cunt clenched around nothing. The sight of his cock made you yank at the restraints again as he slowly dragged his hand up and down his length.

“What baby? See something you like?”

You nodded, giving Joel the best puppy dog eyes that you possibly could as he tugged at his length. He indulged the sight of your desperate state before he let his cock go, reaching forward to coast his hands over your thighs as they shook. Your hips rose slightly from the bed and he forced you back sharply.

“Use your words,” Joel snapped.

The harshness of his words broke you.

“You! Please, I can’t go any longer. I need it, need you too fuck me so bad” you cried.

Joel dove in between your legs, kissing and biting his way up your right leg as you groaned. His teeth reddened the delicate skin on the inside of your thigh. The marks he left would undoubtedly turn to bruises later and you loved it. He stopped just before the crease in your thigh, allowing his breath fan out over your glistening lips as your clit twitched. Your breath caught in your throat and you silently willed him to lean forward. Joel licked his lips, staring at your seam hungrily for another moment before he turned to kiss up your other leg.

“Ugh, please! Just fucking touch me, I can’t - shit, please Joel,” you whined, kicking your feet as Joel chuckled darkly against your skin.

“I am touchin ya darling. Dunno whatcha mean,” he drawled, lips brushing against your skin with every syllable.

Before you had a chance to answer with a clear mind, Joel returned to sucking and biting marks into the soft skin. The headboard banged against the wall as you thrashed against the restraints. You panted as Joel moved up your leg, trying desperately to find the words to beg for what you needed as he neared your clenching heat.

“F-fuck me! Please fuck me! I need your cock in me - shit, daddy please!,” you suddenly wailed.

Tears of desperation slid down your face as you cried and Joel quickly crawled up your body, kissing every inch of skin he came across before he met your lips in a soft peck. He pulled back and met your gaze, cooing as he brushed away tears of frustration.

“Such a good girl for telling me what you need. So, so good for me. You look so beautiful like this babygirl,” he murmured.

Cradling your face, Joel leaned down and kissed you softly. His tongue teased the inside of mouth and you sighed, letting him in as your body relaxed against the bed. You nibbled on the inside of his lip and he groaned.

The kiss grew in intensity with both of you desperate for each other in seconds. Joel’s chest hair brushed up against your nipples and tiny jolts of pleasure ran down to your core. When he finally pulled away for air, you glared at him in annoyance. He laughed and kissed you once more on the cheek before he leaned into your ear.

“Still doing ok sweetheart?,” Joel whispered.

“Mmmhmmm, now can you fuck me already? M’getting bored up here,” you sang.

Joel chuckled and bit at the gland in your neck with more pressure than he had ever done before. It was still not enough to claim you, but it had your back bowing and eyes rolling anyways at the intensity. He took your incapacity as an opening and moved down to your core. As you tried to come down from the hormonal response Joel had torn from you, he threw your legs over his strong shoulders and positioned himself between your legs.

You looked down just in time to watch as Joel licked a long stripe up your seam, ending his stroke with a flick against the throbbing bud. He closed his eyes at the taste and a devilish smile graced his weathered features. In an instant, his mouth was back on you with soft kitten licks to your sensitive clit. As the need grew his soft licks turned to strong calculated strokes and you squeezed your eyes closed from the pleasure.

The moans that came from Joel were downright pornographic and you fought against the heaviness in your eyelids. Forcing your eyes open, you looked down at the beast of a man that was making the most wanton noises you had ever heard. The sight of him alone almost made you cum on the spot.

Joel ground his hips against the bed, rubbing his crotch into the sheets as he devoured you. With his brow pinched and eyes closed, he sucked your clit into his mouth as he held your twitching hips still so he could push you closer and closer to the edge.

“J- oh fuck! You look so good like that - ungh - M’gonna, you’re gonna make me -,” you squeaked as you barreled towards your end.

Just as your walls began to clench, signaling your incoming orgasm, Joel pulled back and returned his lips to your thigh. You gasped and bucked your hips into nothing as the pressure faded away. With a fresh wave of frustration at the ruined release, you thrashed harder against the restraint and whimpered.

“But I-I don't understand. I was gonna -”

Joel bit down hard on the supple skin of your thigh and a sharp cry bounced off of the walls. He laughed and you debated the benefits of cussing him out. Maybe that would get him riled up enough to fuck you. Before you could complain, Joel broke through the anger with the two thick fingers that thrusted into your core. You yelped at the sudden fullness. Slick dripped down Joel’s wrist and he grinned as he moved his face towards your center once more.

With Joel sucking on your clit at a steady pace, your orgasm rose from the depths of your core embarrassingly fast. He hadn’t even started to move his thick fingers yet before your thighs started to shake again. As your walls twitched, a burst of panic rushed through you at the thought of him pulling away. Quickly, you clamped your thighs around him and pleaded. Joel chuckled against your seam, the vibrations of it almost sending you off the edge before he effortlessly moved away.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” you shouted as yet another orgasm was ruined by Joel.

“Just Joel is fine darling,” he joked.

Joel chuckled and sucked the slick off his fingers. His fingers retracted from his mouth and he reached forward to pop your jaw open. Joel pursed his lips, letting a wad of spit fall from his mouth onto your tongue as you whimpered. The lewdness of it made your eyes roll back and you swallowed without even thinking.

“Jesus baby, don’t even have to tell you what to do. Like you were made for me or something. All fucking mine, aren’t ya?,” he growled.

You nodded and breathily whined, “Yes, m’yours. Want to be yours so bad, please! Please make me yours, I need it so bad. Fuuck.”

Joel moaned and moved to devour you once more. His fingers prodded at the outside of your twitching hole and you lifted your hips to encourage him. You felt him pause and looked down at him, only to be met with a serious look on his face.

“You're already mine baby and I’m yours. Don’t you ever forget that,” Joel grunted as he slammed his fingers inside.

Something between a growl and a sob rolled off of your tongue as his fingers ruthlessly thrusted into you. He sucked your swollen bundle of nerves between his lips and batted it with his tongue, the overstimulation making you shiver as he moaned into your folds. Joel’s fingers crooked up inside of you and rubbed at the devastating spot along your front wall. You convulsed against the sheets, whining and pleading as his free hand held you to the mattress.

Joel looked devastatingly handsome between your legs. The possessive stare, coupled with the way he thrusted his hips against the sheets in time with his fingers made you feel like a goddess. His movements grew slightly jerky and you knew that he was close. The thought of Joel cumming from humping the bed at the taste of your cunt was all too much and you came hard. You screamed and pulled at the leather wrapped around your wrists so hard that it creaked under the pressure.

Overwhelming pleasure erupted from your core and sprayed him with a strong gush of slick. Joel whined as your release covered his face and his eyes rolled into the back of his head. Nonsensical pleas and jumbled cries fell from your lips as you clenched around his thick fingers. You watched through hooded eyes as Joel’s hips stuttered against the bed before he thrusted down hard, crying out into your pulsing folds as he came into the sheets.

The strength of your orgasm made your pelvic muscles burn as he pulled away. Joel kissed his way back up your body as you floated. He smiled and continued his attack on your face, distracting you as Joel’s free hand untied you from the headboard. With your hands free from the leather, you quickly dug your fingers into his curls and pulled him closer.

The kiss you gave him was full of love, passion, longing, and desperation. It held a million emotions, a million promises, and a million requests. The kiss begged him to never go so long without touching you ever again. Joel responded fervently to your anguish and his lips promised that he would never leave you wanting again.

Joel broke from the kiss and the two of you panted into each other's mouths. You looked up at him and brushed the hair off of his forehead. He needed a haircut badly but you had begged him not to cut it yet, loving the way the length showcased his beautiful salt and pepper curls. You knew you had to do it soon as Joel threatened to shave it all off every day, but you wanted to enjoy the length as long as possible.

He kissed the indent on your wrist and continued all the way down the length of your arm. Joel reached the crook of your neck and leaned forward. You waited for the final kiss but it never did. Instead, he blew a wet raspberry against your skin. You screeched and squirmed, shoving his head away he laughed. Joel removed himself from your neck and watched you giggle.

“That was - shit Joel, that was so good. I missed that,” you sighed once the two of you calmed, which earned a hum of approval from him.

Joel rolled the two of you over, moving so he was underneath while you straddled him. He moved his fingers into your hair and rubbed at your scalp. Boneless from his soothing circles, you draped yourself over him and placed your ear against his chest. His strong heartbeat lulled you into a meditative state. Grabbing his free one in yours, you squeezed his hand three times.

“I love you too darling, more than you could possibly imagine,” he answered as he nosed at your hair.

Completely drunk off of him, you smiled and rubbed your face into his chest. He hummed as you scented him. Your nose moved up from his chest to huff at the spot beneath his ear and Joel shivered. The spot called to you, his deep scent coating the back of your throat as you licked and nipped at it. It smelled so good but you couldn’t help but wonder how much better it would be if his scent was mixed with yours.

The vibe of the room changed as you laved your tongue and dragged your teeth over the same spot with more intent. Joel’s hand tightened in your hair but it didn’t move to stop you. Instead he made a desperate noise and pushed your face deeper into his flushed skin. You took that as a green light and sunk your teeth into his skin. Joel howled as you made your claim on him. His body shook and his softening cock kicked up against your leg as blood filled your mouth. The taste of him alone made you groan as you licked over the wound, sealing the bleeding puncture marks and your hold over him as he twitched beneath you.

“F-fuck baby,” Joel panted as blinked away tears.

Before you could respond, Joel had flipped you over and shoved his face into your neck. He snuffed at the skin as he tried to locate the right spot. He found it almost immediately, almost like he had scoped it out beforehand. You didn’t blame him if he had, you had known the exact spot on Joel that you wanted to bite down on for weeks.

“P-please omega, tell me please,” Joel begged as his mouth hovered over the left side of your neck.

You could have cried at the sound of his voice. Your alpha, so strong yet so caring. A whine fell from your lips and you pushed his face forward.

“Make me yours Joel.”

Snarling, Joel clamped his teeth down hard. Euphoria burst from somewhere deep inside of you and you sobbed. The all encompassing feeling of finally belonging made tears fall from your eyes. You could hear Joel, as if from far away, as he coaxed you through the intense emotions. Love, devotion, and an overwhelming desire to never be away from him rushed through you. It was not unlike what you had already felt for him. Only this time, you knew for a fact that Joel felt the same way. You felt it through the bond.

After the waves receded, your eyelids fluttered open and it felt like you were coming up for air after being underwater for your entire life. Joel’s smile matched yours and the both of you erupted into a fit of giddy laughs.

Pure joy radiated off of you as you sniffed the air. Your scents changed with bond, mingling together to advertise to any interested parties that the both of you were taken. It made you excited, even though you knew there was nobody around to smell it. Joel noticed a change as well and lifted his nose into the air, his grin splitting his face in half as he smelled it too.

“Joel, I don’t even know what to say,” you croaked through the emotions that tightened your throat.

He rubbed his nose against yours and whispered, “I know honey, I don’t either. I love you, that’s all I can think of to say. I fucking love you.”

You sobbed and threw your arms around Joel’s neck, murmuring a soft I love you too into his mouth before you captured his lips in a searing kiss. Tears of happiness fell from your eyes as your lips moved against each other, tongues mingling and hands caressing every inch as the pair of you reeled from the enormity of what just happened. Your heart felt like it was going to explode with your love for Joel, the intensity of it almost too much as your mouths greedily took from one another. He broke away for air and you panted against the sheets, overwhelmed by the newness of it all.

“I know baby, it’s too much isn’t it? But it’s just us finding the missing piece. Me and you, that’s what the feeling is. Until my last breath, I’m yours. Hell, I would’ve been yours anyways but this is so much better,” Joel murmured.

An overwhelming need overcame you at his words and you flipped Joel over again. He landed on his back with a surprised oomph. He blinked and you had already straddled him. Joel wheezed as your hips grinded down on his quickly hardening length. He pinched his eyes closed and dropped his head back against the pillow while his hands skimmed along the fat of your hips.

Moving from your hips, Joel reached down to grasp handfuls of your ass and used his grip to slide you back and forth against him harder. Whining, you draped yourself over him again and writhed against him.

You grew desperate for him and reached down to grab him. Holding him steady, you slowly sunk down on him. A sigh fell from your lips once you were fully seated, with every aspect of the both of you now melded together. It all felt so right.

Joel’s hips twitched under you and he grabbed your hips once more. He worked you on his cock, the fat tip of it brushing up against that spot that had slick gathering in his lap. You whined at the size of him, the stretch bordering on painful as he bullied his way in. His place was slow and hard, making the burn quickly give way to burning need as Joel somehow brushed against every sweet spot inside of you.

You needed more.

The air in the room was thick and your bodies were sticky with sweat as you pushed back up again. Planting your hands on his belly, Joel watched through glazed eyes as you swirled your hips in mind numbing circular motions. He cussed with his expression pained as he watched your glistening body undulate over him. You leaned forward and kissed him once more, licking into his mouth and sucking on his tongue as the desperation grew.

The way his wiry curls scrubbed against your clit made pleasure shoot up from the base of your spine. Joel noticed as your legs trembled with your incoming release, making your thrusts lose their rhythm. As your legs failed, he pulled his lips from yours and sat himself up against the headboard. The same hard and slow grind as before continued with Joel’s capable hands setting the pace as you whimpered and shook.

“Alpha,” you keened as you felt the incoming pleasure.

Joel’s eyes met yours as he ground your cock into you, teasing your entrance with his knot to make you tremble. Needing him to claim you in every way, you whimpered his name and pushed your hips down.

“Yeah pretty girl? You want my knot omega? It's yours now, all you gotta do is tell me,” he growled with his length tunneling deeper inside of you, carving a space for himself as he thrusted up from underneath.

You panted and cried out, “I want it so bad. You have no idea how much I’ve been thinking about this. Everytime I - ha, fuck me - Everday in the shower, I’d use the showerhead so I could, oh shit! Alpha, please.”

He groaned and slapped the fat of your ass before he gritted out, “You touchin yourself to me in the shower baby? Fuck me, you know how many times I fucked my fist in there thinking about you? Nearly every day darling. I can’t believe I wasted it when I could’ve been cumming into this sweet pussy.”

Pussying clenching at his admission, you cried out and clawed at his shoulders. Joel’s thrusts became more erratic and he reached one hand down to your clit. As his calloused thumb strummed at your pulsing bud, the shaking in your thighs doubled as your walls began to milk him. Groaning, Joel brutally slammed you down onto his knot, locking himself inside of you as you both exploded.

Spurts of cum painted your insides as your cunt sucked him dry. Everytime you thought he was done cumming, another wave would splash against your walls as they twitched around him.

“F-fuck, gonna keep filling you up until it takes baby. Need it,” he growled.

You weren’t sure if he even knew what he had said but it didn’t matter. The thought of it threw the both of you into another round of blinding pleasure and you cried out as his seed continuously splashed against your cervix. Shuddering and breathless, you slumped against Joel’s body as the last shocks of pleasure ebbed away. His hands rubbed at every inch of available skin as he soothed the fresh mark on your neck with soft kisses.

“We should have done that two weeks ago,” you sighed as you purred from his attention to your neck.

He snorted before he mumbled, “Pardon me ma’am, didn’t mean to vex ya with my attempts at being decent. Just how I was raised, I suppose.”

You laughed at that and tilted your face to plant a quick peck into his hair.

“Well old man, you made me cum two weeks ago by slapping me in the pussy. So, I really don’t know whose decency you’re talking about. Plus, did you have a good time not touching me? Because I hated it. Pretty sure I’ll die if you take your huge dick away from me again,” you said.

Joel scoffed and shook his head at your words.

“I don’t think I’ve ever met someone as ridiculous as you baby. You’d give Tommy a run for his money,” he chuckled.

You rolled your eyes before you said, “You’ve never met someone like me, period Joel. That’s why it’s my mark on your neck and nobody else’s. Plus, um… me crass? Who was the one that was doing the pussy slapping? Who literally just tied me up? Pot and kettle Joelie.”

“Uck, not Joelie, anything but that. Two people have called me that, my meemaw and my dumb brother when he was trying to piss me off. Don’t you even start with that,” Joel grumbled.

You hummed and brushed your thumbs along his cheeks.

“But doesn’t it sound so much better coming from me Joooellie - ah!”

He pushed you deeper on to his knot, eliciting a guttural cry from you as a weak orgasm pulsed from your core. The force of it made Joel hiss but it worked, effectively shutting you up and zapping the remaining energy from your body you melted him to him. After a brief silence, Joel spoke again.

“The mark on my neck, it couldn’t be anybody else’s. It could only ever be you,” Joel said truthfully.

Overcome with love and exhaustion, you kissed his neck and whispered, “Back atcha cowboy.”

He chuckled and you nuzzled at his fresh mark. A peaceful silence fell over the room as you wrapped yourselves around each other. Joel’s hands rubbed soft circles into your skin, drawing sighs from your lips until you drifted off into a dreamless sleep for the first time in weeks.

- Joel -

One day.

One day since he had purpose again. All of the voices in Joel’s head that screamed at him every waking moment were silenced when you had claimed him. With sharp teeth burrowed into his neck, all he could only think about was you. After a lifetime of running from his past and himself, it felt like he was finally home. Joel ran his thick fingers over the mark, smiling at the memory.

With the bond solidified, exhaustion had pulled you into an impromptu nap against him. Joel watched you sleep, tracing the outline of your face over and over again with his gaze but couldn’t bring himself to join you in rest. The thrill of being somebody’s mate had slowly morphed into shock. The surrealness of it all dizzied him.

Joel survived being a single dad, he survived the outbreak and his daughter dying in his arms, he even survived the death of his adoptive daughter. And he had done it all on his own. For 56 years the thought of drawing someone else into his shit was unthinkable but now he had you, and you would be with him until the day he died. The thought both excited and terrified him.

He didn’t know how he was going to do this. How would he take care of you? How could Joel look you in the eyes and tell you the truth about him? Would you leave him if you knew? Surely not, the bite mark dug into your neck assured him of that. But would you resent him for claiming you after the truth came out? The thought of your resentment made his stomach roil.

His racing thoughts were interrupted as you woke from the impromptu nap. The smile you gave him cracked the shell around his broken soul and allowed warmth to shine through the cracks. Butterflies erupted in Joel’s stomach and made his heart thump harder against the walls of his chest. Without a second thought, he leaned forward and kissed both of your cheeks. You yawned, mumbling something about food as you roused from slumber. Joel leaned forward and brushed his lips against yours, indulging your sleepy kisses for a moment before he jumped into action.

As Joel rose from bed, a strained groan forced its way out from behind his clenched teeth. A deep ache bloomed in his back and hips, making him lock his knees to keep himself from falling forward. He knew when he did it that he probably shouldn’t have picked you up at his age. You were a fully grown woman and he was an old man with a lifetime’s worth of sore muscles and creaky bones but he couldn’t help it. The pain that pricked at his nerves was worth it to see how your face scrunched up everytime he slammed you down onto his cock.

He tried to play it off after the groan crawled its way out of his mouth but you were his mate. That meant that you felt his pain like your own and after a round of pointless bickering, he somehow ended up taking a bath for the first time in nearly fifty years. Hesitancy clung to Joel at first but the sight of your naked body slipping in after him made any trepidation slip away in an instant. The water was warmer than he was used to but the heat pulled all of the tension from his muscles and made him groan into your hair.

Joel tried to be romantic and wash your hair but he almost immediately got his thick fingers stuck in the tangled strands. You laughed it off, gracious with his rusty affections even though he practically waterboarded you later on. He meant to simply wash the soap from your scalp but instead he accidentally poured the hot water directly over your face. He vehemently apologized as you sputtered and tried to explain that he was pretty sure the reason Sarah learned how to do her own hair so quickly was that she was tired of her dad getting styling cream in her eyes.

Afterwards, you washed him and Joel tried to keep note of your technique in his own hair for future reference. He suppressed a moan as he felt fingers rubbing the product into his scalp with soothing circles. The ministrations released the tension from his muscles and made him blink sleepily at you. You smiled and pecked Joel’s lips before tilting his head back, carefully rinsing his curls as he sighed.

Once the bath was over, the two of you had spent the rest of the day in each other's presence. He cooked and you watched from your spot on the counter, reaching out every so often to pull him into a sweet kiss. It was a miracle that the food didn’t burn. After lunch you had lured him back to bed for a few more hours, only letting him go when you collapsed from the devastating sixth orgasm he tore from you. Joel tried not to look too smug when he had to bring supper to you in bed that night as your legs shook and twitched.

After a peaceful sleep wrapped in each other’s arms, Joel woke to the sound of you making breakfast for him. He smiled and rubbed his eyes, letting his fingers trail across his newly marked neck before he leapt from the bed. There was a pep in his step as he dressed and he suppressed a smile at the giddiness growing in his chest. The simple thought of you making food in the kitchen made his cheeks hurt. It was madness.

He paused as he left the bedroom. His eyes fell to the rose on your side of the bed. Your side of the bed. Joel’s grin widened at the thought of it, of you having a space in his life forever now. The thought would have made him run for the hills a couple of weeks ago but now, his greatest fear was losing you.

Looking around, he saw traces of you everywhere. Dog eared books on the bedside table, dirty clothes mixed with his in the hamper, hair ties strewn across every open surface, a drawing of a wonky cat that you had drawn tacked to the wall on his side of the bed, even the rainbow quilt that adorned the bed had you written all over it. Joel never cared about which blankets he used but you insisted on using that one because of the bright colors. He didn’t mind the brightly colored blankets if it made you happy.

As Joel stepped into the hallway it was filled with the smell of something delicious. His mouth watered from the sweetness drifting in the cold air. Stomach grumbling, he walked into the kitchen and was slapped in the face with what he saw. He froze in the doorway. Flour covered nearly every inch of the counter and Joel trembled at the sight. Sweat pricked at his hairline and his heart lurched in his chest.

Suddenly it was 2003, his thirty second birthday, and Sarah wanted to make him pancakes. They were one of her favorite foods but that day he forgot and had left for work without a second thought. What had they eaten instead? Joel couldn’t remember. All he remembered was that the last two things that Sarah wanted in this world were pancakes and birthday cake, and she never got either.

“Joel! Oh my god, please breathe. Look at me, you have to breathe”

The words rattled around in his mind as he fought against the fog. Your panicked face came into his field of vision, face framed with black dots as your shaky hands held his cheeks. Joel’s chest burned and he wondered momentarily if he was having a heart attack before he realized he wasn’t breathing. He gasped, sucking in air as reality bled back into his consciousness.

“That’s it, breathe for me. There you go,” you soothed.

Joel lifted himself to his knees, ignoring your protests and attempts to shove him back down. He needed to get out of this room. The smell of the sweet batter made his mouth fill with water and he retched. You swore and stepped back at the sound of his gags. Joel staggered out of the room and you quietly followed.

Sarah’s laugh echoed in his haunted mind, followed by the sound of her choking on her final breaths. He looked away when she died, crying out for his brother only to be greeted with her still face when he looked back down. Why did he do that? Tommy couldn’t do anything. And Ellie. Was she scared after the tunnel? Did she look for him after she woke up? Did she wish Joel was there before they put her under for the surgery?

Was everyone he loved doomed to die afraid?

Was Joel doomed to watch?

“Joel, please. You’re scaring me. What’s going on? Are you - Is it your heart?”

Your nervous tone cut through his panicked state and Joel whirled around to face you. He felt like some sort of raging beast as adrenaline raced through his veins. He tried to conjure up an explanation but couldn’t, so he just turned away. Joel sighed as he heard your tentative steps towards him. You walked around his body and placed your hands on his aching chest.

“I don’t want to talk about it darling, I got chores to be getting to anyways. Just eat and I’ll see you later on, okay?,” Joel tried.

You blinked and prepared yourself to press him again. He wished you wouldn’t.

“I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me.”

Joel pushed away from you, stumbling back as anger boiled up from deep within him. He didn’t need your help, he didn’t need anybody’s help. There was no fixing this. It was something that would remain broken until the end of time, like him.

“I don’t need your help. M’not your little project sweetheart,” he seethed.

The moment the words were out of his mouth he regretted them but there would be no taking them back now. Not when your face morphed into a scowl and your arms crossed over your midsection in defense. Joel schooled his face and tried not to wince at the fury that buzzed through the bond you shared.

“I never fucking called you my project. I don’t think it’s unreasonable to wonder why my mate collapsed in the kitchen and then literally ran away from me when I tried to comfort him. But what do I know?” you spat.

Joel stiffened at your tone and matched your anger as he said, “Maybe it’s none of your fucking business. Ever thought of that?”

A dark laugh peeled out of your mouth and he felt the room shift. He knew that he had chartered into dangerous territory but he couldn’t help it. Joel clenched his jaw and he tensed for an attack that was never going to come from you. His body couldn’t tell the difference between discomfort and danger anymore, gearing up to protect him despite the fact that he knew you would never hurt him.

“None of my business Joel? None of my fucking business?! You, Joel Miller, are literally my only fucking business. You’re my mate and I literally know fucking nothing about you. And you know what? That’s my fault, I should have pushed you but I didn’t,” you snarled as you walked back towards the kitchen.

A lump formed in his throat and Joel blinked away tears. He was failing you and he didn’t know how to stop it, but he knew he had to try.

“You don’t want to know me baby. I’m a bad man. I’ve tortured and killed so many people. Hundreds probably, and I don’t even care that some didn’t deserve it. That’s how shitty I am. Murdering folk ain’t even what keeps me up at night,” Joel choked out.

You stopped in the doorway and turned back. Joel watched your socked feet take tentative steps towards him and winced when they stopped inches away from him.

“Tell me.”

How could he? How could he put his loss into words? How could anyone?

“Tell me,” you repeated.

The conviction in your voice snapped Joel to attention and he grabbed your hand. He wasn’t sure why he was doing it but he led you down the hall towards the one place he had banished you from. Pausing for a moment, Joel sighed and pushed the creaky door open.

The room itself was largely the same, with flowers still painted on the walls and comic books still stuffed in the bookshelf, but it was torn to pieces.You stepped forward into the wreckage and gingerly surveyed it. The railings on the bunk bed had been torn off. He didn’t even remember doing that. A lamp was shattered in the corner of the room and the nightstand had been kicked over. Joel swallowed hard as you picked up the broken frame, studying the picture before you looked up at him.

“Sarah wasn’t the only daughter you lost,” you stated.

Joel nodded in response and braced for the big questions. How did Sarah die? How did Ellie die? How did he fail? How would he fail you?

“What was her name?”

He blinked.

“Ellie,” he whispered before he cleared his throat and tried again, “Her name was Ellie. She… I met her when she was fourteen. Pretty well grown but she was… If they hadn't killed her I would’ve taken care of her. She was my kid even though - ”

You cut through his rushed words, “Ellie was your daughter. Maybe not through blood, but she was your pup.”

He nodded again and looked down at his feet. Hot tears blurred his vision and he failed to force them down. Joel’s chest broke open. Ellie was his pup, Sarah was his pup, and they were both gone. The ground shifted beneath him and he lurched forward onto his knees. He didn’t even feel the hard wood, but he felt your arms around him after the fall.

“They died and I couldn’t fucking do anything. The outbreak happened and that goddamn soldier shot Sarah. He shot my baby girl and she died, and I didn’t do anything besides yell for Tommy,” Joel sobbed into your chest.

A soft comforting noise came from you and your fingers rubbed circles into his scalp. He cried hard, choking on memories as they gathered behind his eyelids. You remained silent, allowing him to cry as your hands soothed him.

“Ellie was just cargo. That’s all she was supposed to be and then she wasn’t anymore. The fireflies wanted to use her for some bogus cure but I c-couldn’t - fuck - I tried to get to her but her head was just split open on the fucking table and I-I,” he broke with a pained whine.

Years of shame rolled off Joel and landed on your lap. And you took it without any complaint or accusation. His admission just made you hug him tighter to your chest as he cried. A breakdown of this magnitude would have embarrassed him normally but he didn’t care. Joel needed you like the air he breathed. He needed you and if he had to admit his deepest darkest secrets to keep you, then that was what he would do.

You let him cry until the tears ran dry and his pained cries turned into soft whimpers. The hands in his hair tugged his head back. Joel blushed as you examined his damp face. He knew that he was probably a mess but you still looked at him like he had hung the moon.

“They knew you loved them. That’s what matters Joel. How they died was… It was awful and I can’t even imagine how you feel, but their death isn’t what’s important. Their memory is what matters, the love is what matters,” you said softly.

“But I was supposed to protect them and I failed. I’m a failure. And that’s why I… I just don’t want to fail you darling.”

You scoffed and pinched his sides, forcing a sharp grunt out of his mouth. He balked at your harsh treatment as he rubbed at his reddened skin.

“Joel Miller, you are a lot of things but don’t you dare call yourself a failure. A grump? Sure. Secretive? Undoubtedly. A miser when it comes to your friggin peanuts? One hundred per-”

He cut you off before the list could go on.

“And I thought I was bad at comforting people. Christ darling just pile it on, why don’t ya?” he snickered.

The tension in the room fizzled out as the two of you laughed. The pain that he felt moments before was still there but as Joel looked up at your smiling face, it felt a lot more manageable.

“What I’m trying to say is that you act like you’re some sort of monster but it isn’t true. Everything you do is with love. Joel, love literally exudes from your very being.You’re so many things, but a failure just isn’t one of them,” you explained.

Joel breathed in, allowing the words to settle in his soul as you pushed his hair back from his wrinkled forehead. There was a part of him that wanted to push back. A dark voice lurked in the corners of his brain and begged him to deny your kindness, but he stopped himself. Swallowing hard, he nodded and hugged you tightly. You grunted at the force of it but wrapped your arms around him anyways.

“Sarah wanted pancakes the last day she was alive. It was my birthday and she wanted to make them. They were more for her than anything else, she loved anything sweet. I guess I haven’t really seen anyone make them since her. It just surprised me baby, that’s all,” he mumbled.

“No oatmeal and no pancakes, aye aye captain,” you affirmed and leaned back to give him a mock salute.

A watery laugh bubbled up from Joel’s chest and he kissed you. Tears from his face dampened your cheeks but you didn’t seem to care. Instead, he felt you pour all of your affection into his lips. His heart throbbed and he whined. The kiss was growing in intensity but Joel cut it short when his nose picked up on something.

“Is that?”

“SHIT!,” you yelled before scrambling into the hallway.

Joel ran after you, eyes widening at the smoke that clouded the air. As he rounded the corner, he was met with the sight of you standing still in front of the flames that roared on the stove. He cussed, nervous system spiking his adrenaline once more as he snatched the water from the fridge and tossed it on the flame.

A sharp hiss resounded through the room and steam exploded off of the blackened circles in the pan. He reached around the billowing puffs of heat and quickly turned off the burner.

“You didn’t turn off the burner?” he asked dumbly.

You scoffed, “Well no, I thought you were having a heart attack Joel.”

Annoyance surged within him. Joel’s hands came up to his hips and he popped his left knee out.

“M’not that old,” he grumbled.

You threw your hands in the air at his petty bickering but he knew you loved it.

“Oh, I’m sorry Joel. You are so right. I should totally assume that when my 56 year old mate clutches at his chest and then falls over, that actually means he’s completely fine. My mistake!” you sassed him.

Joel bit back a laugh. If there was one thing that the two of you would do, it was bicker and he loved it too. The tenseness vanished and now you were just fucking with eachother.

“Plus, at least I wasn’t the one who just used all the water in the fridge to put out a itsy bitsy stove fire,” you added.

“Oh, I’m sorry darling. You are so right. I should totally assume that when you start a fire in the kitchen, it’s actually because you wanted to burn our home to the ground. My mistake!,” he retorted, throwing the words right back in your face.

A beat passed before you both erupted into laughter again. The tenseness of the situation deflated even greater as Joel watched you toss the charcoal colored dough into the trash. With the offending pancake gone, he sighed in relief.

After the pancake incident, Joel fired you from breakfast duty and opted for the easier option of ramen noodles. The prep was too minimal for your assistance so he shooed you away to the living room. When they were done, he brought the bowls of noodles to the couch and pulled your legs onto his lap. A smile tugged at his lips while he ate. The heaviness in Joel’s chest was gone and he was sure that he would’ve floated away if it wasn’t for the weight across his lap.

When the bowls were empty, you took the dishes back to the kitchen and commanded Joel to go refill the water from the fridge. He jokingly bowed to your demand, which you rolled your eyes at as you walked away. Joel smirked and reached out to slap your ass hard.

“Joel!” you scolded.

He wiggled his eyebrows at you and you laughed. The sound of your laughter was something that Joel knew he would savor until he died.

“Water cowboy, then we’ll talk.”

Joel flashed you a devilish grin as he quickly shoved his feet into his boots. Grabbing the first jacket he could find, he zipped up and turned to sprint towards his task. As he gripped the door handle, your voice calling out from the kitchen stopped him in his tracks.

“Love you!”

His heart stuttered at that. It didn’t matter how many times you said it, everytime made his mind fuzzy.

“Love you too honey,” Joel called back as he strolled into the frosty morning.

The walk was brisk but the sun shone down through the trees and warmed his cheeks. He barely took notice of whether the traps he passed needed to be reset or not. All of Joel’s thoughts were centered around you back in the cabin. Back home. Being away from you for even a minute tore him in half.

The river roared with swelling waters that licked at the banks as Joel stooped down to fill the bucket. The current was strong this winter, with thick chunks of ice that raced along the surface and slammed into each other. Summer came to mind. A grin came to his face as he thought about how nice it was to cool off in the calmer waters. He was excited to share the perfect swimming hole that existed just a short walk away. Joel shook his head and tried to focus on pulling the bucket up on the bank. He knew he would ditch his task if he thought about swimming alongside you for too long.

His ears pricked at a rustling noise behind him. Joel heard the distinct sound of footsteps coming out from the treeline behind him and smiled. Relief filled him. It was good to know that he wasn’t insane for missing you from the moment he stepped outside.

“Listen, I missed you too darling. But Christ, s’cold out here. You’re gonna freeze,” he teased.

You didn’t answer and Joel turned his head, only to be met with the but of a rifle as it slammed into his face.

#alpha!joel miller #angst #joel miller fanfiction #comfort #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #omega reader #a/b/o dynamics #tlou fanfic #joel miller smut #joel miller x female reader #joel x reader #joel needs a hug #reader needs a hug

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joelscurls · 5 months

Text

best kept secret

pairing: dbf!Joel Miller x f!reader

words: 6.7k

summary: In an attempt to keep your relationship secret, Joel agrees to a blind date set up by his best friend / your father. You don't take it well.

warnings: 18+ minors dni, pre-outbreak, age gap (reader is in her early 20s, Joel is 36), secret relationship, angst, explicit smut, oral (f!receiving), unprotected piv, semi-public sex, car sex, creampie, some fluff; lmk if I missed anything!

a/n: so sorry it took me almost a month to post something new ffs - life got busy and my inspiration simultaneously disappeared. but we're back, baby! anyway, dbf!joel owns my ass, so here's my rendition of him. as always, ty to my baby @javisashtray for reading this over for me and helping me through the creative process <3

Joel’s bedroom window offers a perfect view of the sunrise; of shy, pink light creeping over treetops and the roof of your dad’s house across the street.

It’s gorgeous — breathtaking, even — maybe because you can count on one hand the number of times you’ve actually seen the crest of morning. You’re far more privy to late nights and sleeping in as long as you can push it, never been one to be up with the lark, so to speak.

You don’t mind the early wakeup call, though, not when it’s this: Joel’s head tucked between your thighs, his tongue rolling lazily over your clit, your eyes still adjusting to the light as he spreads you open for him.

He’s humming against you, his coarse beard tickling soft skin, thumbs dug into muscle to hold you in place as your back bows reflexively off the mattress. He looks so sweet like this, so eager to please, staring up at you with blown pupils.

“C’mon baby,” he purrs. “Just gimme one before you go.”

They’re the first words he’s said all morning, the first thought that’s necessitated utterance. His voice is hoarse and deep and drips honey-sweet at your core.

Even so, despite how badly you want to — because you always want Joel’s mouth on you — you’re not sure you can.

Because you need to get home before Denise next door leaves for her early shift. Before Susan a few houses down takes her dog out for a walk.

Before the neighborhood wakes and somebody sees you leaving Joel Miller’s house. Or worse, before your dad catches you slipping into the house in yesterday’s clothes, your car in the driveway still cold.

But with another experimental flick of Joel’s tongue, you forget all that, a content little sigh slipping past your parted lips, betraying you.

Just one, you tell yourself, and then you’ll head out.

“Fuck, okay — yeah,” you breathe, twisting your fingers into the roots of his curls.

With your permission, he buries his nose in your mound. Licks at you again — with more purpose, this time. One long, drawn out lap followed by another.

He’s so gentle with you, so careful, caressing your folds with his tongue like they’re made of paper. It’s a dizzying juxtaposition to the way he laid you down last night and fucked you, teeth scraping your neck and cock bruising your cervix.

You’re still sore, your walls tender where he stretched them, but your pussy is drooling nonetheless, surely making a mess of the bedsheets underneath you.

Because you’re insatiable when it comes to Joel.

For the past few weeks, since the first time you’d found yourself in his bed, you’ve craved him. Regardless of how sated he’s left you each and every time, you’ve needed more.

It’s dangerous and stupid and undeniably wrong, having a fling with your dad’s best-friend. But you’re finding it difficult to consider the morality of it all when just his tongue makes you come harder than any other man’s cock ever has.

That tongue, now dipping into your apex, drawing more slick out of you as his thumb finds your swollen clit — It’s overwhelming how good it feels, how good he is at this.

He’s bringing you to the edge languidly, savoring the taste of you, the feel of your silky flesh. It’s like he doesn’t want this to be over, needs to stretch the moment as far as it’ll go, milk every last second before you slip from his grasp.

But it’s going to end soon; it’s inevitable with the way he’s laving your pussy, the crushed velvet of his tongue gliding through your folds so wet and warm. Your orgasm is building, and you’re powerless to stave it off any longer.

“Joel,” you warn, his name a high-pitched whine.

“Shh, I know babygirl; it’s okay.”

Two of his fingers hook at your entrance and push in, pacifying you as his thumb continues working your clit. “I got you. Let go for me, sweetheart.”

The soothe of his voice floods your senses like nitrous; renders your body loose and your head foggy. You come apart with a string of shattered breaths, eyes rolled back and fingers twisted into the duvet.

Joel talks you through it: that’s it, pretty girl; so good for me; always so good for me, and though he sounds so far away, his words are the only thing keeping you tethered to reality.

The world comes back into view slowly. Air settles in your lungs. And you can’t help but laugh at how fucked-out you feel when you peer down at Joel, his gaze already locked on you, expectantly.

“Okay?” he asks, rubbing at your inner thigh.

“Yeah,” you exhale, corners of your lips pulling taut. “More than okay.”

He smiles back at you. Props himself up with hands planted either side of you on the mattress and hovers over your feeble form.

“Good,” he whispers, dipping his head down to kiss your forehead, your nose, your mouth. He licks into you, letting you taste yourself on him — a little sweet, a little bitter — and his lips are so soft that you nearly melt. “Did so good, angel.”

You want nothing more than to spend all day in this bed with him. Return the favor a few times over. Learn what he looks like in the afternoon sun against the backdrop of navy blue sheets. What he tastes like after his coffee rather than before.

“I don’t want to leave,” you admit against his mouth and he frowns, taking one of your hands in his. He presses a kiss to each of your knuckles, one by one, his eyes never straying from yours.

“I don’t want you to either, darlin’. But you can come back tonight, yeah?”

Tonight. Hours away. A whole day between now and then. But it’ll have to do.

“Tonight,” you repeat. Solidify it.

You slink home just as the street lights dim.

The house is quiet when you enter, apart from the incessant ticking of the grandmother clock in the living room. It sets off a throbbing in your head, a dull pang right at the front of your skull that you massage with two fingers as you ascend the stairs.

You move cautiously up each step, wincing at every creak of old wood. It must take minutes to reach the second-floor landing, and then you’re tiptoeing past your father’s room, listening for signs of sleep behind the seal of his door. Sure enough, you catch it, a single, drawn-out snore, loud enough that you let your feet fall, shuffling the rest of the way to the bathroom across the hall.

You immediately crank the shower on, climbing in as soon as you see steam. Lathering your skin with citrus-scented body wash, the smell of sex washes off your body and down the drain.

The warm water soothes your sore muscles; bittersweet relief. You stand there until the stream grows icy, stepping out and toweling yourself off just as you hear the familiar blare of your dad’s alarm on the other side of the wall.

By the time you’ve dressed and made your way downstairs, he’s already in the kitchen, nursing a cup of coffee with his back to you.

Sink empty, counters borderline sparkling, a coaster tucked under his warm mug — your father is a neat man. He does not take kindly to mess.

God forbid, anybody disrupt the sacred balance of his home; move something and forget to put it back, break something of his that should be kept intact.

“Hey.”

“Hey, kiddo,” he yawns. Turns to face you. “You were up early. Heard the shower going.”

“Couldn’t sleep,” you lie.

“Something on your mind?”

Heat blooms across your chest and up your neck. There’s no way he knows — you’ve been far too careful. Still, you’re on edge, and the question lodges itself between your ribs uncomfortably as you frantically search for an answer.

“Uh, n-no,” you stutter. “Just work stuff, I guess.”

He seems to buy it, reaching for the percolator and re-filling his mug with a sigh, “Just gotta give it time. You only just started. Plus, it’s your first job out of school. They don’t expect you to know it all right away.”

It’s good advice, if not misguided. You nod as if you’re absorbing it, taking it straight to heart. As if your mind isn’t preoccupied.

You grab a mug from the cabinet. Fill it with coffee and creamer. Perch yourself at the breakfast table and take a slow, steadying sip.

The caffeine has just about seeped into your bloodstream when-

-there’s a knock at the door.

Your dad shoots you a puzzled look, one which you immediately return. Who could that be, so early on a Wednesday morning?

And when he pushes open the door to reveal none other than Joel, you just about fall out of your chair. Your nails absentmindedly dig into the wood of the table in an attempt to brace yourself.

“Oh, buddy — hey! Come on in,” your dad says, patting him on the back as he steps over the threshold. “Wasn’t expecting you.”

You grasp the handle of your mug like a lifeline. For a fleeting moment, you worry the ceramic will shatter in your hands.

Joel is dressed — blue cotton t-shirt covering his broad back and the deep, red scratches you left there when you dug your nails into skin, your legs hiked over his hips and your face tucked into his chest.

The pair of boxers peeking over the waistband of his jeans are different from the ones you pulled off of him last night, the ones he shimmied back into before you slept cradled in his arms.

He’s a different Joel here, now — your father’s friend, your neighbor — not the man who breaks you down with his tongue or the one who calls you his good girl while you take his entire, throbbing length.

No, this Joel, standing in your kitchen in the presence of your father, has never betrayed him. Hasn’t tasted his friend’s daughter or felt the tight embrace of her wet, warm cunt around his cock. This Joel is reliable, honest, not one to do harm.

You do not desire this Joel, cannot. You must look at him with apathetic eyes. Must keep the boat of your longing at bay.

Easier said than done. It’s as if your desire for him is a feral beast, fed by his touch and left starving in its wake. You feel like you’ve just run a marathon, sweat beading at your collar as you not-so-subtly follow the subconscious flex of his hands, the bunching of fabric over his biceps.

His voice bounces off the backsplash, and your fingers tighten around the handle of your mug.

“Yeah, I uh — I went to make myself coffee and realized I was out. Was hopin’ you might have some to spare?”

He can’t be serious. He came over for coffee? He couldn’t get some on the road?

“I’m afraid she took the last of it,” your dad’s eyes point to you, and you ignore the burn of Joel’s gaze when his follow.

“Ahh,” he says. “‘ts okay. I’ll grab some on my way in.”

His fingers taptaptap on the edge of the countertop, bottom lip tucked between his teeth like there’s something else. Another reason he came here.

And then you spot it — your wallet, dark red leather, poking out the top of Joel’s back pocket.

You must’ve left it in his room before you hurried home. Somewhere amongst the mess of trinkets and trash on his dresser. You half-remember dropping it there last night as he’d kneeled in front of you and peppered kisses up the length of your leg.

Thankfully, your dad is oblivious as ever, giving Joel the perfect opportunity to inconspicuously slip you your wallet when he turns around and crosses the kitchen, placing his empty mug in the sink.

Joel sidesteps once, twice, extending his arm and snapping it back as soon as you have the wallet in your grasp.

Your father clears his throat. Spins to find Joel exactly where he was. “I’ve been thinking,” he starts, wrestling a slice of bread out of the bag and dropping it into the toaster, “I gotta set you up with this co-worker of mine, Deb.”

Joel freezes. You watch as the color drains from his face and his large hand anxiously cards through dark curls. You’re pretty sure you freeze too, breath caught somewhere in your throat until your dad turns to you and you remember to exhale.

“You know Deb, right, honey?” he asks. You mentally flick through the rolodex of your dad’s coworkers.

There’s Leanne, tall redhead, hosted a potluck a few months back at which you tasted the worst mac & cheese you’ve ever had. And Barbara from accounting, who he got into a heated argument with over who makes the best BBQ in the city. You only remember her name because he hadn’t shut up about how wrong her opinion was for a full week.

This woman actually thinks the Smoke Shop has got better ribs than Lou’s. I said to her, Barbara, your taste buds must be absolutely torched.

But Deb? You don’t recall a Deb. Still, you’re pretty sure you hate her, just in hearing her name in this context.

You shake your head, no.

“Well, I guess you haven’t seen her in a while. She was there that day I brought you into the office.”

“When I was ten?” you retort.

“Yeah, I guess it was that long ago, huh?”

You shrug. He returns his attention to Joel. “Anyway, Deb – she’s around your age, just got divorced about a year back, and she’s a real nice woman. I think you two would really hit it off.”

“Is that so?” Joel replies. You swear his voice wavers. If your dad notices, he doesn’t say anything.

“You’ll like her Joel, I promise. I mean, when’s the last time you went out with a nice lady? Not since – what was her name — Jean? And if things were going well with her, I’d hope you’d tell your old friend.” The toaster pops, and he retrieves his slice of toast. Grabs a butter knife from the utensil drawer.

“No, I ain’t seeing Jean,” Joel sighs. Flashes you an apologetic glance as your dad slathers his toast in artificial purple jam, blissfully unaware.

“Well, you gotta get back out there!”

Joel’s gaze rolls to the ceiling. “I don’t know – I’m just not real interested in datin’ right now.”

You exhale, then — a quiet declaration of relief that seems to go unnoticed — unperturbed even when your dad continues his pitch.

I’ve known this woman for years Joel, I’m telling you, the two of you’d be the perfect match; she’s a looker too, real pretty.

Ew. Tuning him out, you check the clock, find that you only have a few minutes before you need to get going. You stand from the table and make your way toward the sink with your now-empty coffee mug in hand.

Would I ever lead you astray? your dad is asking just as you brush past Joel. His hand, idle by his side, catches the fabric of your blouse and you have to fight to ignore the pinprick of electricity it ignites under your skin.

“No, I know,” Joel grumbles. “I trust your judgment ‘n all, ‘ts just-”

“Will you just give her a chance?”

“Jesus; fine.”

The mug slips from your grip, falls into the sink with a clang.

Your dad glares at you, expression softening only when you gesture to the still-intact ceramic lying on its side in the basin.

He’s quickly distracted, then, jotting a series of numbers down onto a scrap of notebook paper, the blue ink pressed in so hard that it’s beginning to bleed through.

“Atta boy,” he drawls, sliding it across the counter. Joel pinches it between two fingers, folds the paper without looking at it and stuffs it into his front pocket.

“Promise you’ll give her a call tonight? I may or may not have already talked you up, and I need to know you’re not gonna make me look bad here.”

Joel has to see you staring at him out of the corner of his eye. He must. If looks could kill, he’d be six feet under already. But he’s refusing to meet your gaze, eyes glued to the cabinet directly in front of him as he nods. “Yeah, I’ll call her tonight,” he says, a small, unconvincing smile pulling at the corner of his lips.

He’s actually agreeing to this?

You need to get out of here before you say something rash.

The anger bubbles in you slowly, then all at once, threatening to boil over as you slip on your shoes and sling your bag over your shoulder.

Marching toward the door, you offer a half-hearted bye, not bothering to look back before you leave.

The office is already milling with people by the time you stroll in, ten minutes late.

The conversation between Joel and your dad is still running laps in your head as you sneak past your boss’s door.

It sticks there through the morning and well into the afternoon, your dad’s words an incessant earworm: I think you two would really hit it off.

The thing is — you can’t blame Joel for saying yes to the setup. Not really. Your situation is complicated, messy, bound to end badly.

Maybe he’d be happier with Deb.

They could take walks together, stroll through the grocery store or down the street hand-in-hand. Throw dinner parties and shamelessly gush about their relationship to their friends. All without fear of being caught doing something wrong.

Because that’s what this is, you and Joel — it’s wrong. Not like you weren’t already well aware of that. Leave it to some woman you’ve never met to rub it in.

The day passes infuriatingly slow.

The pile of emails in your inbox only grows larger by the time you’re due to clock out, stack of reports on your desk barely touched. You wince when your boss stops by your cubicle on her way out, eager for an update.

“Sorry, Linda; a couple of these were more time-consuming than I’d hoped,” you lie. But you can tell she doesn’t buy it, not one bit, her expression souring as you shuffle through papers.

“I need these done by the end of the week, no matter what.”

“Of course,” you mutter, face heating with embarrassment. “I’ll get them done and on your desk by Friday.”

“Thanks.” Her heels are already clacking on tile when you open your mouth to apologize again, your sorry lost to the ether.

You gather your things and scramble to your feet as soon as she’s out of view, not sticking around to watch your computer power down. By the time you get to your car, Joel’s number is already dialed on your phone.

He picks up after two rings.

“Darlin’ — are you okay?”

It’s admittedly uncharacteristic for you to call him so early. You usually wait until after dark, when you’ve both retreated to your respective bedrooms, away from listening ears.

But this can’t wait. It’s been eating at you all day, digging into your work. If you don’t talk to him about it, you’re going to end up unemployed. You don’t bother to ask if he’s still on the job site, around other people. “You’re going on this date.” It’s not a question. More of an accusation.

“Baby,” he sighs. You try your best to ignore his molasses drawl and the way it seeps into your chest.

“Why didn’t you say no?”

“How could I?” he groans. “There’s your dad, askin’ me if I’m seein’ someone, sayin’ he’s already told this lady about me – what am I supposed to say?”

“I don’t know.” Your voice comes out a whine. “Make something up. Tell him you’ve taken a vow of celibacy.”

He laughs, low and breathy on the other end. “Yeah, baby. Think he’d believe that one, f’sure.”

“Fuck,” you huff. “I just— I don’t-“

You want to tell him not to go. To cancel. Fake his own death. Do whatever it takes to get out of this. But you have no right, not really. The two of you aren’t dating. You don’t have any control over what he does or who he sees. And you don’t want that, no. You just want him to choose you.

“I don’t wanna go, darlin’. I really don’t. But if I do this, I think it’ll get him off my back for a while. He won’t have a reason to suspect that I’m foolin’ around with his daughter.”

Fooling around. His phrasing is a metaphorical punch in the gut.

It’s not exactly a lie. You haven’t put a label on this thing, whatever it is. It’s been purely physical: lips slotted to lips, tongues pressed together, swapped sweat and saliva. But hearing it reduced to two words, words with such a casual connotation — as if you haven’t been driven by overwhelming desire — makes your stomach churn.

Joel doesn’t seem to clock it when you go quiet, a cocktail of rage and sorrow sloshing around your insides. “It’s for the best,” he adds, a shot of hard, burning liquor.

“Yeah,” you say defeatedly. Choke back the pathetic tears that creep up your throat. “For the best.”

He ends the call with the excuse of bad cell reception. Promises to talk to you later. You’re not sure that you believe him.

The phrase fooling around curls up in your head, a wet dog, its fur dripping into the crevices of your rattled brain the entire drive home.

You dodge Joel’s calls for the remainder of the week.

There’s no use in talking to him when you have nothing to say, when you know any words you attempt will be overtaken by tears.

Even so, it doesn’t stop him from trying. His number lights up the screen of your phone at least twice a day.

He leaves voicemails that you do not listen to. You can’t. The last thing you need is his syruppy drawl in your ear. You’ll break; you know you will.

So instead, you delete them. Rid yourself of temptation.

But you still ache for him — a devastating truth. You lumber through the days, bones heavy with hurt. Find yourself kept up at night by thoughts of Joel and the infuriatingly soothing timbre of his voice, the intoxicating callous of his fingertips against your soft skin.

It’s a lonely thing, yearning for Joel Miller.

On Friday, your father beams at the dinner table. He’s grinning like a child as he stuffs a forkful of rice into his mouth.

“Joel and Deb’s date is tomorrow,” he says. “Think they’ll really hit it off, don’t you?”

You’re dumbfounded for a long moment — can’t believe that this is your life now: being asked about your thoughts on Joel and the ever-elusive Deb as a couple. When it takes too long for you to answer, your father’s fork stills pointedly on his plate, and you sputter.

“Oh! I mean, I don’t know. Like I said, I don’t remember Deb.” You can’t help your condescending tone. Your dad doesn’t seem to catch it anyway.

“Well,” he says, “I think they’ll be a match. Hoping so, anyway. The man has been such a hermit lately — maybe if he has a lady, he’ll get out more!”

“You sound real excited,” you grumble. Stab four peas on the prongs of your fork.

“It is exciting. I’ve never set anyone up before. And the best part is, the place they’re going to — the Tavern — it’s got rooms you can rent out for wedding receptions. Just imagine if down the line, they got mar-“

“Dad,” you stop him. You think you’ll be physically sick if you let him finish that sentence. “Sorry, I just — I’m really tired, all of a sudden. I think I’m going to head to bed early.”

It’s not a complete lie. You’re emotionally exhausted as a result of the past couple days. Sleep sounds like a much-needed, blissful escape right now.

Your dad doesn’t question you. He just nods. Swipes your plate from in front of you and brings it to the sink along with his.

Of course, you find it impossible to actually drift off that night. Tossing and turning, you battle the glaring urge to get up, slink into the home-office and look up directions to the Tavern.

Not that you’re planning to go there anytime soon — you’re just curious. That’s all.

Around midnight, you give up, pad down the hallway and into the room parallel yours. The computer dials up slowly, and you chew your bottom lip as you wait.

You snatch a piece of paper from the printer and a pen from the #1 Dad mug that sits next to the monitor. Click on the internet icon and type the words into the search bar.

This is definitely a bad idea. Maybe the worst you’ve had in a while.

You jot the address down anyway.

Downtown Austin is buzzing with life.

Patrons spilling out of bars, tourists striding down the street in their brand new Stetsons – it almost distracts you from the task at hand.

At just past seven, you’d told your dad you were going out, meeting a friend for drinks. He’d been a bit taken aback, seeing as you’re not very social these days, but he’d seemed happy. Relieved.

That’s not what you’re doing, of course.

No – in reality, you’re turning into the parking lot attached to the Tavern. It’s packed to the brim with cars, but you still manage to find Joel’s truck, its license plate number burned into the back of your mind after countless mornings of absently reading it as you snuck past.

It’s idle and empty when you inch by, and even though you knew he’d be here, on this date, your heart still sinks. Because maybe a tiny part of you had hoped he’d stand Deb up.

You should leave. It was stupid to come here in the first place. What are you going to do — storm inside and demand that he leave with you?

You consider it for half a second, groaning when you realize how pitiful you are. Defeated, you swing your car into a spot at the back, facing the building, and shift it into park. You hug the steering wheel dejectedly.

From here, you have a straight-shot view of the restaurant’s entrance, a set of double doors at the side of the building. Groups spill out every so often, every pair that emerges causing your back to arch reflexively.

Joel and Deb are probably discussing their interests right now, bonding over a shared connection with your dad. You can vividly picture the smile likely plastered across his face — the same one you’ve elicited with sweet filth whispered in his ear.

And you’re here, sitting in your running car, watching the door. Your pulse thumps obnoxiously loud in your ears.

Minutes pass like molasses, slow and thick. You watch the clock on the car radio obsessively, betting with yourself on what time they’ll leave. After thirty minutes of nothing, you’re convinced that they’re going to close the place out.

But then the door opens again, and you straighten up, immediately met with the sight of Joel and Deb.

She’s talking animatedly, eyes widening every few words, blonde hair wafting around her narrow face. It’s undeniable that she’s stunning, even from far away; possesses the kind of beauty you see on magazine covers in line at the grocery store. The jealousy that pools in your gut burns like acetone in an open wound.

She takes his arm as they walk toward the parking lot, and he lets her, despite the rest of his body appearing strangely rigid.

You wonder if he’ll take her home. Lead her to his truck, help her up the step to the passenger seat and sneak a look at her ass under her dress before shutting the door. If they’ll leave her car in the lot for the night, come back to retrieve it in the morning once he’s helped her forget about her loser ex-husband; let the scent of her perfume seep into the bed sheets to cover up yours.

But he doesn’t lead her to his truck. You watch as they unexpectedly turn down a row of cars, disappearing from your view completely, his arm still locked with hers.

He could still kiss her. Press her against the car. Promise her that he’ll call — and he will, first thing tomorrow. He’s probably just being a real gentleman. Treating her like a woman he might want to marry someday.

Maybe he knows, after just one date, that she’s his soulmate. He’ll buy the ring in a couple weeks. They’ll be engaged in a month’s time, and he’ll say he just couldn’t wait any longer.

She’s the one thing I’ve been missing.

You stew in the agonizing unknown for what feels like hours before Joel materializes once again, backside illuminated by headlights as he strides toward his truck.

And then — he stops. You see the exact moment he notices your car in the parking lot, his eyebrows threading together and his hands splaying over his hips.

He’s staring directly through the windshield. At you.

Fuck.

He takes a few slow steps. Stops in front of the hood. Narrows his eyes and flexes his jaw.

With a deep breath, you unlock the doors. Gesture for him to get in the passenger side.

He immediately rounds the car, prying the door open and climbing inside just as a SUV pulls out the row he and Deb had walked down.

The door slams when he yanks it closed. The sound echoes through the cab of the car.

“You wanna fuckin’ explain what you’re doin’ here?” he snaps. You’re afraid to look him in the eye, embarrassment and now, anger, spooling hot behind your ears.

You know you’re in the wrong. You shouldn’t have followed him. But does he have to be so hostile?

When your gaze finally meets his, he looks — distraught — jaw clenched and lips set in a straight line. His fingers absently dig into denim-covered thighs.

“I don’t know,” you mumble, “I just wanted to see how you were with her.” And it’s the truth; not one you want to be admitting right now, to him, but it’s the truth nonetheless.

“Doesn’t give you the right to spy on me.”

“So what was I supposed to do? Sit at home and mope while the guy I was seeing is on a date with someone else? Oh no, I’m sorry,” you throw your hands up, form air quotes with your fingers, “the guy I was fooling around with.”

This seems to strike a nerve. His jaw twitches, and his fingers still on his lap.

“It wasn’t like that,” he grits

“No? Isn’t that all this was to you: fooling around?”

There’s a beat. Joel sighs.

“No — fuck, no. Of course not.”

His expression softens. A crack in solid stone. “I tried callin’ you,” he says, voice barely above a whisper.

“I know,” you admit.

He nods. Another beat.

“Did you kiss her?” you ask.

“No.” He says it with intent, with promise, eyes firmly locked on yours now.

Your mouth goes dry.

“No?”

“No,” he repeats. “I didn’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I didn’t want to.”

“You don’t want her?”

“No,” he says flatly, his pupils bulging in the lamplight, black bleeding into the brown of his irises. “I don’t want her.”

“Why not?”

He leans forward. His weight presses into the center console and his breath fans your face — warm, tinged with the scent of cheap beer.

“I don’t want her,” he says, voice an octave lower, “because I want you. I thought you knew that?”

The radio drones between the two of you, some classic rock song you think you recognize flitting through the speaker. Your pulse beats staccato in your throat, off tempo.

“You want me?” you ask, a little breathless, and the next words you say are beyond dumb, beyond reckless, but you say them anyway. “Prove it.”

Joel doesn’t hesitate. He closes the slight distance between you and kisses you, hard, his tongue frantically sliding against yours through parted lips.

It’s sloppy, and desperate, and you feel drunk on the taste of him, on longing laced with carnal need. He’s groaning into your mouth, grabbing your head with both hands, burying his fingers in your hair — as if he can’t get close enough, as if he’ll only be satisfied once he’s swallowed you whole. You’re pretty sure you want him to.

Your hands move frantically to his t-shirt, then, bunch into the fabric and pull. You need to feel the skin underneath, need to rove your hands along his bare chest. He accommodates, tugging the shirt by the back of the collar, lips separating from yours ever-so-briefly to bring it over his head and toss it onto the backseat.

And then he’s back on you, licking into your mouth again, eliciting a whimper from you when his hand wraps around the side of your throat, just under your jaw.

Your palms splay across his torso, wander over warm, golden skin. You’ve missed this, god, you’ve missed this — but it’s still not enough. You need to feel more of him. In your mouth, in your hand, in your cunt — you’re not picky. Just need him in whatever way he’ll provide.

“Joel,” you whimper into his mouth, fingers winding around his bicep.

He pulls back. Peers at you through hooded eyes. “What is it, baby?” he asks through labored breaths.

“Need you — please.”

He immediately unbuckles your seatbelt. Lowers his seat back and manhandles you onto his lap. You go easily; slot yourself to him with legs folded on either side of his thighs.

Wrapping your arms around the back of his neck, you grind down into his lap. His cock strains against denim underneath you. He groans when you swivel your hips and brush the heft of it again with your clothed heat.

“You gonna let me fuck you?” he asks into your mouth, his forehead pressed to yours.

Your breath catches.

You know what he’s really asking: are you going to let him fuck you here, in the parking lot of a public establishment, where anybody could see?

But you don’t care. In fact, you’re way past caring, the emptiness of your cunt too painful to ignore any longer. Let them watch him take what’s his.

You nod frantically. “Yes,” you pant. “Please.”

Joel nods too, as if he’s accepting his fate. He’s going to fuck his friend’s daughter in the passenger seat of her car. There’s no way around it — not when you’re begging for it. He’s going to give you what you need.

“Okay,” he soothes, “I got you baby.”

He helps you out of your pants, then; clumsily maneuvers them down and off your legs along with your panties and tosses them aimlessly into the back.

He doesn’t bother to take his jeans off. Lets you unzip them and pop the button open, your nimble fingers making quick work of it. And then you’re pulling his cock out of his boxers, stiff and leaking in your grasp.

You steady yourself with hands on his shoulders just as he begins to pepper placating kisses along your neck. “Go ahead baby,” he whispers into your ear. “Take it; it’s yours.”

His head falls back against the seat as you stroke him a few times and line his cock up with your dripping entrance, his hands clasped around your waist.

You sink down slowly, savoring every inch of him as he burrows in deeper. He’s so thick, stretching you like it’s the first time again, your walls fluttering as they relax around his cock.

“Fuck,” Joel slurs, fingers digging into your skin impatiently when you still, fully seated on him.

“Gotta move baby — please move.”

He’s so fucking deep, though, his cockhead bumping your cervix, and your entire body feels gelatinous atop him. A cloying sort of heat hangs around your head. You swivel your hips weakly, your forehead falling to rest on his with a heavy sigh.

Joel is happy to take control, bucking up into you so hard you see stars. You can’t suppress the string of moans that spill from your mouth, and Joel doesn’t seem to mind. He’s just as loud, anyway, his broken sounds bleeding into yours, bouncing off glass and leather.

Neither of you can muster an actual word, though, not with him rutting up into you, sheathing himself in your pussy over and over again. He’s relentlessly hitting that spot — the one that has you practically clinging to him for dear life.

It’s approaching too quickly; he’s going to make you come.

One of your hands flies to the roof of the car in an attempt to brace yourself, flat palm pressing into it so hard you worry it’ll pop.

Joel takes the opportunity to drag you down in his lap, spearing you on his cock, and the sudden change in angle makes you cry out.

“Oh f— ahh, oh my—“

“That’s it,” he coos, “you got it, babygirl.”

His words tip you over the edge, your entire body locking up as you gush around him. You’re wetting his lap, slick splattering his thighs, and he loves it, his fervid moan telling you so.

His movements begin to falter then, hips stuttering underneath you as he chases his own high.

“Cmon, baby,” you goad, “please fill me up.”

He grunts when he spills inside, his face nestling in your chest, heaving as he works through it and begins to come down. You don’t move, not that Joel would let you, still holding you on his lap like he’s afraid to let you go.

You nuzzle into his embrace as his cock softens inside you.

You stay like that for a while, probably too long given that anybody could easily look into the car and see you straddling him. You don’t have the energy to care.

Eventually, you lift your head from its spot on Joel’s chest. Look up at him with bleary eyes.

“Joel,” you say.

He meets your gaze, face shiny with sweat and his hair a mess. He looks gorgeous like this, you think. The way only you get to see him.

“Yeah?” He grazes along your arm with featherlight fingers. His touch raises goosebumps on your skin.

“Did you mean it?”

“Mean what?”

“About wanting me.” In truth, you’re not sure you want the answer. But you need to know, definitively, if Joel is yours. You’re done sharing him.

“Oh, baby,” he drawls. “Of course I do. You’re all I want. Do you want me?”

And it’s a stupid question. He has to know that. You’re nodding before he can even finish it. “Yes,” you breathe. “I want you, Joel”

“Then it’s settled. It’s me and you. No more…interlopers.”

You giggle. Reluctantly separate yourself from his body and re-dress. You settle back into the driver’s seat with achy legs.

You’ve never felt more content than you do in this moment.

Still, you’ll have to hide — won’t be able to share the news of your new relationship with friends or coworkers, your dad — and neither will Joel.

You don’t care much, not as long as he’s yours, but you need to be sure he feels the same.

“Joel,” you stop him as he opens the passenger-side door to get out. He stills with one leg swung out the door.

“Yeah, darlin’?”

“Are you sure you don’t mind…being a secret? Don’t mind keeping me a secret?”

He looks at you like you have two heads.

He pulls his leg back into the car. Shuts the door and leans over the console again.

Taking your chin between his fingers, he forces your gaze. Makes sure you’re listening.

“I want you — doesn’t matter who knows or doesn’t know. Long as you’re mine.”

Your chest tightens, and your heart squeezes inside your ribcage.

“I’m yours?”

He smiles. Presses a chaste kiss between your eyes, on the tip of your nose, on your lips. The same way he did the other morning.

It all feels somehow sweeter, now.

“Yeah, angel. You’re mine. My girl.”

end notes: tysm for reading! please consider commenting and/or reblogging if you enjoyed! I've been toying with the idea of turning this into a series so lmk if that's something you'd be interested in hehe.

Also, I hopped on the bandwagon and made a sideblog for notifs! I'll be doing away with a taglist from here on out, so follow @joelscurlsupdates & turn on notifications if you wanna be notified when I post a new fic :-)

tag list: @janaispunk @amanitacowboy @fhatbhabie @frannyzooey @lola8888673

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

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auteurdelabre · 2 days

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When the second to last chapter of Please Mister Miller is over 15k and you just wanna be done so you can post it.

#please mister miller #joel x reader #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal #smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller #dad joel miller #bfdjoelmiller

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alltheirdamn · 2 months

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DECLINED | Mechanic!Joel x f!reader

Summary: You're on a cross-country road trip when your tires blow, and you're forced to get them fixed at a small town mechanic shop. When your card declines, you only have one other option to get your car back. Rating: 18+ Explicit Word Count: 3k Warnings: Pre-outbreak AU, mechanic!joel, sex for favors, oral sex (f + m receiving), blowjob, deepthroating, cum eating, fingering, squirting, semi-public sex, unprotected piv sex, size kink, creampie, dirty talk, pet names, joel being a disgustingly nice gentleman, porn with absolutely no plot A/N: I saw this gif float across my pinterest and had a terribly fun idea... so here it is. Enjoy a lil fun ;)

PART 2 | Masterlist | Ko-fi

“S’all fixed up now,” Joel said, walking into the waiting room.

You had been waiting a few hours to have your alignment fixed and tires replaced, and now you could finally breathe a sigh of relief. You were on your way through the small town headed east towards Tallahassee when both of your back tires blew out on the highway. You were lucky not to cause a crash and thankfully found a local mechanic shop only half a mile off the road.

“Thank you so much,” you exhaled as you stood up and stretched your legs.

Joel rounded the counter to the register, typing up the work order to charge you out. Wallet in hand, you waited for the cost, praying it wouldn’t make a dent in your bank account. You only budgeted so much for the road trip, and this definitely wasn’t in the budget.

“Alright, ma’am, lookin’ like it’s gonna be around $500 for everything. Shaved some off just for the hassle you been through,” Joel smiled.

Shit.

“Uh, okay. Great.”

You reluctantly handed over your card, praying it would be enough. Joel swiped it on his machine followed by a loud beep that clearly meant DECLINED. You let out a shaky breath, fishing through your wallet for another card.

“Shit, try this one,” you said.

Joel nodded, his brows furrowing a bit when it also beeped in the same tone. He slid your card across the table, cocking a brow as if to ask, ‘Got another one?’

“Fuck,” you laughed nervously. “Okay, how ‘bout this one?”

Another card. Another decline. How the fuck were you going to get out of town now?

“Sorry, ma’am,” Joel sighed. “No payment means no car ‘m afraid.”

You ran your hand through your hair in frustration, trying to come up with something. Glancing up at him, you took in his broad frame covered by a simple black t-shirt that seemed to hug the planes of his chest perfectly. You hadn’t even noticed the patchy beard or kind grin that he donned so well earlier. Maybe…

“Look, I gotta get out of here tonight,” you pleaded. “Is there anything I can do to just get my car?”

Joel crossed his arms over his chest, his biceps looking much bigger in that position. With a frown turning down his lips, he shook his head.

“Afraid not, ma’am.”

“Anything? Please, I'm begging you.”

He considered you a moment, his eyes raking over your figure. You felt your cheeks warm at that look, knowing what he might be insinuating. If that’s what it took to get your car and get the fuck out of this town, then why not?

“Anything?” He repeated.

“Yeah, I guess so. I’m pretty fucking desperate right now.”

Joel came around the corner of the counter, crowding you until your neck craned up to meet his eyes. Your heart thrummed in your ears, warmth blossoming in your stomach the longer he stared at you.

“Desperate lil’ thing, huh?” He teased.

Backing away from you, Joel walked to the shop entrance and slowly turned the lock. He looked back at you as he flipped the sign to CLOSED as if testing your judgment. You gave him a meek nod, never letting your eyes off him as he stalked toward you again. His finger ran up your forearm, catching on the sleeve of your top and tugging it lightly.

“Follow me, darlin’.”

That sentiment, followed by the twang of his accent, was enough to make your knees buckle, and you followed him like a dog in heat. Joel led you back into the heart of the shop, scraps of tools and car parts littering the makeshift garage. And right in the center of it all was your car. Leaning against the hood, he patted the metal, beckoning you over. You dropped your purse on the workbench and walked toward him on shaky legs. Joel spread his legs a bit wider as you approached, his fingers wrapping around your belt loops to pull you in close.

You were a breath apart now, just the barrier of clothes separating you. Joel’s hands snaked around your waist and firmly palmed your ass through your jeans. You let out a small yelp as his fingers dug into the supple flesh, kneading and massaging until your eyes drifted shut at the feeling.

“You pay off all your debts this way?” His voice dropped an octave, and you felt the bulge in his jeans prodding against your stomach as you leaned closer.

“Fuck off,” you scoffed. “Wasn’t planning on my car taking a shit out here and definitely wasn’t budgeting for it either.”

“Hmm,” he mused. “Ain’t got a boyfriend to give you some cash to help?”

“If I did, I wouldn’t be out here tryna fuck you for my car,” you quipped.

A grin split across his face at your defensiveness, as if he enjoyed you being a brat. You weren’t trying to be— honest to god—but you desperately needed to leave this town, preferably with your car.

“Y’sure are a bratty little thing,” he said, tugging you closer.

“Why don’t you stop talking so much and fuck me so I can get the hell up out of this small fucking town?” You grumbled.

Joel raised one of his hands to grip your chin, steadying your gaze on his. Sliding his thumb over your lips, he coaxed your mouth open and urged you to suck on his finger. Without breaking eye contact, you swirled your tongue over the skin of his thumb before wrapping your lips around it.

“Christ, darlin’,” he exhaled. “Might just let you suck my cock and send you on your way.”

You released it with a pop, a trail of saliva dripping from your bottom lip. Reaching down, you massaged the bulge in his pants, letting out a soft gasp. He was massive—bigger than expected. He let out a small chuckle as if reading your mind, bucking his hips against your touch.

“You’d give me my car for a little blowjob?” You questioned, squeezing his cock tighter.

“S’nothing little about me, darlin’.”

“Aren’t you just full of yourself,” you rolled your eyes.

Your fingers danced over the zipper of his jeans, tugging it down as he helped pull his cock free. You peeked down to catch a glimpse of it, your eyes growing wide. His cock was girthy and thick and definitely had no shortage of length, either. Precum leaked from the tip, and you wet your lips at the idea of trying to fit it all in your mouth.

“Y’gonna suck it or what? Car ain’t gonna pay for itself.”

“You gonna give me my car after?” You tossed back.

“Maybe,” he grinned. “Those tires might cost you extra.”

“We’ll see about that,” you smirked.

Sinking to your knees, you pulled down his jeans and underwear until he adjusted himself at the tip of your lips. You wrapped your hand around the base of his cock, squeezing softly as you guided it into your mouth. Stretching your lips wider, you swirled your tongue around the tip, basking in Joel's groan as you did so.

“S’fucking perfect, darlin’. That mouth feels fucking amazing.”

You took him deeper, moving your mouth in a rhythmic motion until you felt his hand come down to grip your hair. He held you steady as he snapped his hips back and forth, pushing his cock further down your throat. Sputtering around him, you dug your nails into his thighs as leverage while he continued fucking your throat.

“That’s it, darlin’,” he rasped. “C’mon now, take this fuckin’ cock down your throat.”

Opening your throat wider, you swallowed every thrust as tears streamed down your cheeks. Joel was relentless with his thrusts, your nose brushing against the curls at the base every time you took him deeper. You could sense he was close to the edge, so you dragged your tongue against the base of his cock with each stroke, spurring him on further. It elicited a primal growl deep within his chest, and within seconds you could feel the warmth of his cum sliding down your throat. His cock twitched inside your mouth as he came down from his high, and you hummed as you swallowed every last drop.

Using the grip on your hair to pull you off, you sat back on your heels, coughing and heaving to try and catch your breath. Joel looked down on you with heavy lidded eyes and a smug grin as if to taunt you. Cupping your cheek, he slid his thumb against your skin and brushed away the rolling tears.

“Open,” he ordered. “Show me.”

You quirked a playful smile, leaning your head back as you stuck your tongue out to prove you swallowed it all. Slapping your face softly, Joel let out a soft chuckle.

“Atta girl.”

You brushed the remainder of your tears away, wiping the makeup from your eyes, and you stood on wobbly legs. Smoothing down your shirt and jeans, you crossed your arms over your chest and cocked a brow.

“I think I earned my car back,” you insisted, your voice hoarse from how hard he fucked you.

“Hmmm, y’think so?” Joel questioned. “I think I deserve a taste of that pussy.”

You shoved at him playfully, rolling your eyes.

“In your dreams, cowboy,” you laughed.

With his pants still hanging down, Joel spun you until your ass was pressed against the hood of your car. Working at the button and zipper of your jeans, he shoved them down and pulled your legs free until your bare ass was pinned to the cool metal. Joel gave you a lopsided grin and shoved you further onto the hood.

“I wouldn’t be a gentleman if I didn’t return the favor, darlin’.”

“You don’t need to do that,” you said, your voice shaky.

“Oh, but I want to,” he argued. “Gotta see how sweet you taste.”

Sliding down, Joel situated himself between your thighs, tugging your calves up to rest on his broad shoulders. He gave you a teasing kiss on your inner thighs before delving in, his tongue flicking at your sensitive bud. You careened back against the hood, your back arching as his mouth suctioned around your clit. Crying out, you carded your hand through the brown curls of his hair, anchoring his face against your wet cunt as it pulsed against his mouth. Joel plunged his tongue inside you, forcing another whine from your lips.

“Fuck!” You cried. “Right there! Oh my god, yes!”

He hummed in satisfaction, bringing his fingers into the mix as he opened you up, curling them against that sweet spot inside you. Keeping his mouth on your clit he worked in tandem with his fingers until that coil inside you wound tighter and tighter. With one more curl of his fingers, your orgasm surged through your body, forcing a gush of liquid to stream out of your wet cunt. Joel sat back in awe, staring at your glistening folds as your body trembled from the release, your juices covering his beard and mustache.

“Fuck babydoll,” he grinned. “You a squirter, too?”

You laughed awkwardly and watched as he removed his two fingers and brought them to his lips. Sucking them into his mouth, Joel groaned as he tasted the remnants of your orgasm. You knew you could squirt—it was your own dirty little secret—but something about seeing him covered in your juices made you want more. Tugging him softly with your calves on his shoulders, you urged him back to your soaked entrance, silently begging for another round.

“Gonna cover me in your juices again, darlin’?” Joel smirked.

“Mhmm,” you whined.

“Drench me babydoll, let’s see it.”

Joel’s mouth was on you again, lapping up the juices leaking out of you until you were crying out for him. He didn’t let up as he sucked your aching clit between his teeth, his tongue working at the bud in earnest. He pushed his fingers back into you, your cunt pulsing violently each time he curled them. Slipping a third finger in, he stretched you wider and moaned against your clit as your body tensed with another orgasm. Another rush of liquid made it past his fingers, soaking his mouth and chin. You could feel it trickle down the seam of your cunt, drenching the hood of your car as you thrashed against it.

“Christ, Joel,” you mumbled, your head lolling to the side.

He rose to his feet, wiping a hand over the hair covering his chin as he smiled at you. You sat up slightly, positioning yourself on your forearms as you watched him slide his jeans further down his legs. You were already in this deep; you might as well keep going. Spreading your legs a bit wider, you raised a finger to beckon him closer.

“C’mon cowboy,” you teased.

“Y’really need that car, huh?” He smiled, lining his cock up to your entrance.

“I really do,” you whimpered, nodding your head vigorously.

Joel eased himself inside you, inch by fucking inch, until he was fully seated at the base of his cock. You both groaned in unison, his cock sliding in and out of you easily from all the juice leaking from you. Crossing your ankles behind his back, you pushed him deeper, mewling at the sensation of the tip of his cock brushing against your cervix. You could feel that stinging stretch of your cunt as he picked up his thrusts, your ass sliding up the car each time.

“Shit, babydoll,” he growled. “S’fucking tight around my cock.”

“You feel so good, Joel,” you hummed. “Please, I need it harder.”

Listening to your pleas, Joel planted his hands on either side of your face, pistoning into you with brute force. He bent down, sucking and biting the skin of your neck until you were crying out from the pain mixing with the pleasure. You rolled your hips to meet him thrust for thrust, your cunt fluttering against his cock each time. That blinding orgasm was on the horizon as your muscles tensed up for its release. Running your hands up under his shirt, you dug your nails into his back muscles, dragging them down his tanned skin. Joel groaned into your ear, his hips snapping against yours harder and faster.

“Oh fuck! Oh fuck!” You sobbed. “I–I’m gonna fucking cum, Joel!”

“Yeah, babydoll? Fuckin’ soak me with it.”

He pulled out at the last moment, a heavy stream of liquid pouring from your cunt and coating your inner thighs and Joel’s cock. Without wasting a second, he drove back into you, picking up the pace despite your body still shaking and dripping from your orgasm. You could feel your tears rolling down the sides of your face, that warmth still coursing inside you. Joel’s thrusts grew erratic and off-rhythm, and you sensed his orgasm was pushing him to the edge.

“Y’gonna let me fill that pussy, darlin’?” His lips grazed the shell of your ear as his voice sent shivers up your spine.

“God, please,” you cried.

With one…two…three final strokes, Joel was grunting and painting your insides with thick bursts of his cum. You both lay there limp and fucked out for several moments, catching your breath and chuckling as reality settled back in. He slipped out of you and drew his pants back up his legs, his eyes roaming over your sweaty body. With one hand, he tugged up the zipper of his jeans, using the other to push the cum leaking out of you back into your wet cunt.

“Gotta send you off with some sort of parting gift,” he laughed.

You couldn’t help but laugh, too, adjusting yourself and sliding off the hood. Joel bent down to ease your pants back over your thighs and hips, helping with your own zipper as you stood awkwardly in front of him. Joel leaned in to kiss your cheek before walking to the corkboard hanging from the wall. Retrieving your keys from one of the hooks, he offered them to you with a kind smile.

“I’m free to go?” You asked, reaching for them.

He pulled them away, shaking his head with a teasing grin. You pouted sarcastically, opening your hand and waiting.

“One kiss, and we call it even, babydoll.”

You grabbed either side of his face, pulling him in for a hungry kiss. You coaxed his mouth open, teasing your tongue over his, tasting your arousal still lingering on his tongue. Joel deepened the kiss, tangling his free hand in your hair to anchor you closer. Pressed up against him, you found yourself thirsting for more but knew you had no obligation to stay. Sucking his bottom lip between your teeth, you pulled away reluctantly and snatched the keys from his hand.

“Thanks for the new tires, cowboy,” you grinned.

Joel dazzled you with another gorgeous smile, the lines around his eyes creasing as he gave you one final nod. You squeezed your way out of his embrace, making your way to the driver's side door. He followed you over, opening it like the gentleman he was, waiting till you were situated inside. Leaning in for one more kiss, he lingered a moment too long before breaking away.

“Safe travels, darlin’. If you ever need some work done, y’know where to find me.”

You dug your keys into the ignition, letting the car rumble awake. Joel shut the car door with one final smile and watched you reverse out of the mechanic shop. Giving him a small wave, you turned onto the street and back toward the highway with a soreness creeping up your thighs.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfic #joel miller one shot #joel tlou #joel x reader #joel x female reader #joel miller smut #tlou fanfiction

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gracieheartspedro · 6 months

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Who We Are

pairing: fem!reader x dbf!joel miller

description: when your father falls ill, his patrol partner and best friend, joel miller finds a way to aid in his recovery. but this solution is complicated and requires you to take on a week-long hunt for supplies and resources. being stuck on the road with an older guy you've been crushing on for ages won't be so bad, right? wrong. because he's been pining after you, too. and one of you will have to give in evenutally.

word count: 17k words. this one is a LONG ONE. get a snack.

warnings: MINORS DNI! this is 18+, post!outbreak joel, age gap (reader is in her 30s, joel is in his mid 50s), i don't describe the reader all that much, consumption of alcohol, illness that requires medical intervention, blood, guns, killing of infected, forced proximity, joel is kinda pervy?, talks of loss of family members, joel lies about his past, oral (f receiving), face sitting, unprotected p in v, overstimulation, dirty talk, creampie, after care.

author's note: ... hi folks! this one is a long one, so like I said, grab a snack and get comfy! I was going to make this multiple parts but I'm eager and unhinged. to be honest, this story is better as one big one shot anyway. I had a very intense time editing so I know I probably missed some things. I may write little branch off stories if you guys enjoy it enough. anyway, enjoy! <3 lemme know what you think!

“Didn’t know you were workin’ tonight, darlin’,” Your father’s Southern drawl brings you out of your daze. You had been cleaning glasses for the last hour and a half. Surprisingly, the Tipsy Bison wasn’t busy on a Wednesday night. You had been keeping busy by cleaning and serving two visitors.

You look up, noticing your father and his patrol partner wander into the bar. They find a seat at the bar, right in front of you as you dry some whiskey glasses.

“I work every night this week, Pops,” You mutter, turning back to the liquor bottles to grab his favorite bourbon. You knew exactly what he came here for. He wanted to pester you on your shift and watch you write under his partner’s gaze. He thought your little crush was entertaining. You have made comments to your dad in the past about how you thought Joel was nice to look at and your Dad would just laugh. He would jokingly wiggle his finger at you and tell you to find someone your age.

Little do you and your father know, Joel feels similarly about you. The first moment he saw you, he thought about how if he was a young buck, he’d lock you down as soon as he could. The age held him back initially, never even entertaining your subtle glances or welcoming smiles. Then when he realized who your father was, he immediately shut down all thoughts like that in his head. You were strictly off-limits.

“Well good, keeps you busy.”

You did not enjoy the idea of working every weeknight with a bunch of drunks, but this job was a bit better than constantly shoveling horse shit. Instead, you got to mingle with the locals. Maybe find yourself a man, since you were in your early thirties and unmarried.

Joel loved coming to the Bison when you were here. It meant he got to drink a whiskey neat and watch you twirl and rush around the bar. Tonight was slower, though, so he got the privilege of speaking with you, which was rare.

You pour your Dad his bourbon, finally glancing up at his partner who’s practically ogling at you. You made a conscious effort to avoid his piercing brown eyes.

Joel Miller was a dream boat, god damn. Every time he glanced in your direction, you would freeze up and stutter out a very jumbled “hello”. He was quite guarded, never much to talk. When he did finally speak, you found yourself reeling over his deep voice.

“Whatcha want, Mr. Miller?”

His lips twinged, his eyes flicking up to yours. He loves hearing you say that, he thinks to himself. You hand off the bourbon to your Dad, waiting for a response.

“Whatever he’s having is fine, sweetheart,” He says plainly, nodding toward the half-empty bottle. Your knees could buckle at the nickname, but you keep your composure. You can’t crumble that easily.

You three slide into a conversation about their patrolling, what they found that day, and the game plan for tomorrow. You make a sly comment about how they needed to find some meaning in life other than patrol. Your dad laughs, and Joel just stares blankly at you. You instantly want to take back the comment and never speak again, ever. Instead, you just continue drying the glasses you just washed.

When your dad finished his bourbon, you noticed his expression change from relaxed to pained.

“You okay there?” You ask, grabbing his glass and placing it in the sink below the counter. He rubs his chest, letting out a deep guttural cough. Joel looks perplexed while you get closer and notice the blood splattering into your dad’s palm.

“It’s nothing, just a cough,” He manages to say, his voice hoarse. You scan his face, knowing immediately that he’s lying.

“Bullshit, you’re coughing up blood,” You reach towards some towels, tossing them on the counter in front of him, “You should probably go get checked out, Dad.”

Joel quips, “Yeah, don’t need you getting sick when we are out tomorrow. Why don’t you stop by the infirmary before you go home?”

Your Dad just shakes his head, “You two are being dramatic. It’s nothing, I promise.”

Your Dad was known for downplaying his pain and sicknesses. You remember being a little girl traveling with him across the country and every time he got hurt, he’d just suck it up. He shattered his left pinky years ago and he resolved to just chop it off. So that’s what he did. He was lucky it never got infected. But he was known just to blow off all his ailments, reminding you he’s beat all the other odds.

So instead of fighting with him, you just nod all the while, stealing a long glance at Joel. He’s finishing his drink and you can’t help but watch his neck. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows and you fixate on it for a bit too long.

You’re brought out of the trance when he slams the glass down, his dark brown eyes drooping. Joel always looked tired, but you knew after the day they had, he was actually tired.

You had a couple more hours at the Bison before you had to close up, so you bid them a farewell, reminding your Dad that you’d be home before he stumbles off to bed. He never slept much, he would just read in the living room until you got home usually.

Joel waves you a farewell, thanking you quietly for the drink.

“Don’t be a stranger,” You say as he turns his back to you to head for the door. He turns a bit, giving you a slight smirk as he reaches for the door.

You spend the rest of your shift daydreaming about what it’d be like to be with a man. You spent most of your time in Jackson without giving much of the men your age a thought. More than half were taken, anyway. While you let your mind wander, you realize your imagination is placing Joel in the spot of all the made-up situations with this said man.

You lock the bar door behind you, tugging on it to ensure it’s snug in the latch. The air was shifting, the cool warm summer turning into a slightly chilly fall. You wore a long sleeve today, luckily, or else you’d be shivering on your way home. The walk home wasn’t a long one.

When you reach your front door, you realize the living room light is on. Dad’s awake.

But as you reach to turn the knob, you hear ghastly breathing from the other side. When you swing the door open, you see your Dad in his recliner, his hand over his chest. He’s dry heaving, trying to get out a cough.

“Hey, hey,” You quickly race to his side, “Are you okay? What’s happening?”

He breathes in deeply, “I just can’t seem to catch my breath. Something isn’t right.”

You have never seen him so panicked. You nod, understanding that your next step is to get him to the infirmary. He should have gone on his way home. You didn’t know if anyone would be there and you surely didn’t know if they would be able to treat his symptoms.

“Are you in pain?” You ask, grabbing under his arms to lift him out of his chair. He’s wobbly, so you keep your hand under his armpit and use your other free arm to balance him. He shakes his head.

“Just weak.”

Your heart sinks. Never in your life has your father admitted to feeling weak or sick. It was like as soon as he got home, his body just gave out. You help him into his shoes and start your trek back towards the middle of town. You wish you didn’t have to walk him so far because it felt like with every 5 feet, his lungs were giving out and sending him into a coughing fit. You probably woke the entire town trudging him through the streets. When you get to the front step of the infirmary, you knock as loud as you can. Usually, they had an overnight shift nurse helping, having them watch over whoever was dragged there during the day. Dispensing medicine if need be. You knew a couple of the nurses, most of them your age or a bit older.

When a familiar face opens the door, you feel a sense of relief.

“Hey Sidney,” You greet her, sort of pushing your Dad into the room, still keeping your hands wrapped around his center, “Something’s wrong with Pops.”

She reaches out to help you with him, “Oh no, what’s going on?”

“Can hardly breathe,” Is all he can muster out. You look at Sidney, concern spread across your face. She nods, knowingly.

Sidney was one of the nurses you trusted the most. She gave you stitches when you sliced your hand open on a glass bottle a couple of weeks ago. She was patient and gentle, always checking to see if you were doing alright as she sewed your skin together. She’s a former Firefly, probably in her 40s. She got trained by some doctors years ago so she knew a decent amount about all sorts of medical treatment.

She takes hold of the situation completely, grabbing your Dad and walking him to a free bed near the door. She gets him to lie down and she starts scrambling for some supplies to do a quick once over of him. He looks pale and for some reason, very small, in the hospital bed.

“It’s gonna be alright,” You say, poking his arm. You say it for him, but you mainly say it for yourself. He closes his eyes and nods.

“Always is, kiddo.”

The news was not ideal. After observation and some tests, Sidney decided your father probably has pneumonia. The problem was, that Jackson was low on antibiotics and they would have to decide if your Dad’s case was urgent enough to give him some.

It pissed you off, but you had to hold back your anger. This situation was out of Sidney’s control, but you knew exactly who to raise your voice to. Sadly, the city council was asleep in their beds, as it was 4 a.m. Sidney reassured you that she would ensure your father was looked after until the morning when they could discuss with everyone if it would be okay to give him some of the highly sought-after antibiotics.

But for now, you should get some rest.

Your father fussed at you while he was in and out of sleep, telling you that you needed to go home and sleep. Your body was plagued with exhaustion and your brain was hardly functioning. You would need to plead a good case, so even a couple of hours of sleep would do you good. You ask if you could occupy a bed nearby and Sidney agrees with a sympathetic smile. You curl up, trying to clear your brain of your racing thoughts.

You can’t lose your father, he’s all you have.

You need to remind the council of all your father does.

You need him to get better.

You need him.

“We only have 4 vials of antibiotics,” Maria states, trying not to look you in the eyes. She feels horrible, but she knows deep down the rest of the council will probably reject your father using any. It was going to be a tough decision like this that made most of the people in the council think they were playing God, but it was real life. Would they give your 60-something-year-old father antibiotics for pneumonia or give it to a young child suffering from an infection? They had to think ahead and supplies were scarce.

You cross your arms, waiting for the next shoe to drop. “And?”

Tommy stands up, knowing you will not like the next sentence. He practically guards Maria with his broad frame. He resembled Joel, with his dark hair and stern eyes. His were a bit softer.

“We are low on resources, hun. We need to think ahead and ensure that the pros outweigh the cons of giving him one of those vials. You understand?”

“Why was this not a thought in the summer? When it was a good time to go seek some out? I just don’t under-”

“We had that sickness going around over the summer. Lots of people getting fevers. Before we knew it, Dr. Peters realized we were low. I had intentions to get out and try to find more, and trade with some people, but we just haven’t discussed it all yet. There’s a process. It was in the works.”

Your blood is boiling and your patience running out. Each second of arguing was another second your Dad could be closer to death.

“Well, it’s a shitty fuckin’ process. Where can I go to get more, then? Is there another community we can trade with? A hospital we can scavenge? You guys can’t expect me to sit around and wait for him to get worse.”

Maria looks to Tommy, trying to wrack her brain for a response. Tommy’s lip twitches, knowing exactly what to say. He did not want you to do it, but he knew how you were. You’d do anything for your family.

“There’s a hospital in Salt Lake that I’ve heard is practically untouched. Fireflies used to reside there and do tests. They probably left behind some supplies.”

You narrow your eyes, “Salt Lake? Isn’t that a whole week away?”

You start to pace the room, trying to console yourself. You can’t just leave for that long and assume that everyone will take care of your Dad. Tommy places his hands on his hips, trying to figure out a resolution. He liked your Dad, always going to him if he needed help around the commune. Your Dad is always one to offer a helping hand and give solid advice. He didn’t want to watch him die, either.

“How about this,” Tommy huffs, “How about we give him one of our vials and you and Joel head out to Salt Lake to scavenge that hospital? If we are right in our assumptions, there’s probably a lot of resources there. And Joel’s been there before.”

“Why are you roping Joel into this?” You press, crossing your arms.

“Joel knows where to go. He can get you there in one piece.”

“Where am I going,” Joel’s presence takes you by surprise. You turn back at the front door of the infirmary, seeing Joel’s disheveled hair sticking up in every direction. He had red cheeks, probably from the jog he did to get there. As soon as he heard about your father, he booked it from the stables to his side.

Tommy shoots Joel a knowing look, “You and her are gonna go back to Salt Lake. You think they have antibiotics at that hospital you took Ellie to?”

Joel’s visceral reaction sends you. His heart practically stopped when Tommy brought up the hospital.

You start to sweat when he does, realizing you would have to travel that far with Joel Miller.

He swallows, shifting his weight to his other leg. “Probably. Why can’t ya just give him what we have?”

Maria shakes her head at his response, “We have a long winter ahead of us, Joel. We have four vials left. This saves us from a council meeting where they shoot down everything. They won’t approve it. If I reassure them that you are going to get some more, they won’t mind if we give him one.”

He huffs, scratching his chin in contemplation. You knew this would not be ideal for him, but you’re willing to do anything, even if you had to do it alone. The four of you stand in silence while Joel wracks his brain for an excuse to say no. None comes to him.

It’s not that he did not want to help you, he just does not want to relive some trauma with you by his side. He would have to swallow back all his emotions, all the while you would be posted up right next to him. He does not want you to see him falter under pressure.

“She can’t go alone, Joel,” Tommy quips, gesturing towards you. You were shaking, your body reacting before your brain even could. Your nerves were shot.

He shakes his head, “And if they don’t have the supplies?”

You didn’t even think that far.

“They will,” Tommy says, matter-of-factly, “It’s our best bet. The Fireflies disbanded, there has to be stuff left behind.”

You don’t know how Tommy knows all this, but he must have good sources to know all these things. Joel nods at him, accepting his response. He looks back at you, trying to figure out how you feel about the proposition by reading your face.

“Does that work for you?” His deep voice isn’t meant to be intimidating, but you flinch anyway at the question.

“I don’t have much of a choice. My Dad needs the medicine. If you guys think we can make it there and back in one piece, I’ll do it.”

“We will leave tomorrow morning. In the meantime,” Joel waves over Sidney, who’s still sitting by your sleeping and dazed father, “Give him one of those vials.”

Joel sacrificing his time and effort for your father was unfathomable to you. Sure, Joel was a great friend of your Dad’s, but he truly didn’t owe you two anything. It made you enamored with him even more.

As the day shifted into the evening, you sat by your Dad’s bed and waited for the antibiotics to kick in. His body needed rest, you knew that much because he slept more than he probably ever had in his lifetime.

He was sweating out a fever, so every so often you’d pat his head with a cold rag. He would mumble a quiet “thank you” and then return to snoring. As the sun sets, you welcome Sidney back for her night shift. She checked your Dad’s vitals, telling you his lungs are already sounding a bit better. You stretch and yawn, cracking every bone in your body while you do. You were stuck in the same position for so long, elbows on your knees, your chin propped up by your hands.

You had a long trip ahead of you, and you couldn’t lie, you were scared half to death. You did not want to come back and find your father dead. You were also terrified about going back outside of Jackson. You spent most of your last 20 years living in the wild and shitty QZ’s. You were always on edge out there, and then you found Jackson. Ever since then, life has been a little more hopeful. You were able to form relationships and have some simple enjoyment, after all this time.

Your Dad finally wakes up when you start stirring more. His one eye opens first which makes you crack a smile.

“Mornin’ Pops,” You joke, grabbing his warm hand, “That antibiotic should start working soon. You’ll be better in no time.”

“Yeah,” He croaks, “But I heard you’re going somewhere.”

You bite your lip, afraid to stress him out. You knew he would worry about you, he always did.

“Yeah, me and Joel are going to get more supplies. Nothing too drastic,” You lie, brushing your thumb over his scarred knuckles, “You trust Joel enough to take care of me?”

It was the first time he laughed in the last 24 hours, “Course he will. He knows how much you mean to me. If he fucks up, he will get a load of me, that’s for sure.”

His voice was reassuring to hear, especially since he’s joking with you.

“Okay, I believe you,” You mutter, “We leave tomorrow morning, so I need you to be good and get all the rest you can. I want you up and moving when I get back, you hear me?”

“Roger that, kiddo.”

“Mornin’ sunshine,” Your tone is sarcastic and Joel can tell. You did not expect to be stuck with Joel Miller alone for a week, especially outside the walls.

He clears his throat as he finishes packing up his horse.

“Mornin’,” He grumbles, patting his horse’s mane, “Let’s get you all set up. You’ll be takin’ your Dad’s horse, Ranger. He is already saddled up, just need to get your stuff on there.”

Luckily, you packed light. You brought a couple of changes of clothes, some food, some camping gear, and of course, your gun.

Joel helps you tie down your bag and ensures all the straps he just put on are tight enough for you. You just watch him, enjoying how just takes control of the situation. He had the father instinct, always making sure everything would be safe and secure for the girls he loved. Or liked. Whatever.

You thank him, grabbing onto the saddle and flinging yourself up onto the horse. Ranger was truly your favorite horse in all of Jackson. He was the best behaved and the biggest. His mane was long and black and he loved to be brushed. You spent a lot of evenings riding him for fun, just enjoying his company.

Joel gets on his horse, adjusting how he sits before he takes the reigns and guides you towards the main gates of Jackson.

“You still sure you’re ready for a run like this?”

He’s giving you a chance to back out. But this was now an obligation. If you didn’t do this, you would indebted to everyone. You would be the person to blame if someone’s loved one died. Not really, but you felt that guilt.

“Readier than I’ll ever be, Joel.”

“How is Ellie doing?”

You were burning to make conversation. You needed to rid your mind of all the anxiety surrounding your own life. Joel was too quiet, it made you feel queasy. He was too wrapped up in his thoughts. You were about 20 miles outside of Jackson, the sun was coming up through the foliage.

He inhales sharply, “She’s a teenage girl. She’s grumpy.”

You grip onto the reigns of your horse, your body swaying back and forth with the trot.

“I remember being that young and being constantly annoyed by my Dad’s nagging,” You chuckle, remembering the days of angst, “Are you annoying her, Joel?”

Joel scrunches his face at such allegations. If anything, Ellie was annoying him.

“Course I’m not! Just… want to make sure she’s doing good. Which she is. Everyone tells me ‘bout how helpful she is.”

You think back to the last interaction you had with Ellie. She had been helping out at the stables when you were in charge of feeding and cleaning the horses before you got the job at the Tipsy Bison. Ellie wanted to know everything you knew, pestering you with silly questions like what their names were and why they were named what they were.

“She’s very helpful,” You acknowledge, thinking about how enthusiastic she always was about learning, “You raised her right.”

He huffs, “Was hardly me. She’s just smart and raised herself.”

You did not quite understand the history between Joel and Ellie, but you knew Joel was not her biological father. You had no clue how they found each other or when. But you could see the love Joel had for Ellie. You remember him lighting up when he explained to you and your dad how she was the best shot amongst the recruits.

Joel will probably never indulge you in the specifics of his relationship with Ellie, simply because it’s complicated. He never felt the need to explain himself to anyone but Tommy.

“You had a hand in some of it, Joel. Give yourself a little credit.”

But Joel was never good at that. He was hard on himself, weary to accredit any of Ellie’s behavior to himself.

The rest of the ride was occupied with the sound of leaves rustling. Joel spots a fallen tree that he says would be a good eating spot. You agree, hopping down off your horse with ease. You tie his reins up on a nearby branch and start digging through your saddle bag for the apple you packed for yourself. You were sick with unease all day. With everything going on in your life, the last thing on your mind was hunger. Plus, you were alone with a man that you had to put all your trust in.

You pop a squat on the chipping bark and get out your pocket knife to start cutting the red fruit. Joel gets out a bag of jerky from his pack and finds a spot next to you. He looks over at you, perplexed at your food choice.

“Just some fruit?” Joel interrogates, instantly knowing your hunger cannot be satiated by apples. No one can be satisfied with only fruit.

Your stomach churns at your first bite, “Just not that hungry.”

That’s all the explanation he needs. You watch as he starts to munch on his bagged meat, cringing at the sound of his mouth. You try to block it out, but it’s eating away at your brain. You hated the sound of chewing, it was such a stupid pet peeve, but you couldn’t help yourself. Joel is oblivious, probably not even hearing how loud he’s being. You smack his arm out of instinct, something you did to your dad when he was being too obnoxious.

He looks down at you with furrowed brows and annoyed eyes.

“You’re eating too loud,” You say, wanting to smack yourself at how stupid it sounds out loud.

He looks away, completely flabbergasted at the reaction. “Eating too loud? Really?”

You feel embarrassed for letting your brain get the best of you. So you just cut more of your apple off and slowly crunch on it. You try your best not to hyper-fixate on your chewing. When you’re in a trance, lost in your thoughts, Joel nudges you back. He’s getting you back, now.

“Now you’re chewing too loud,” He jokes, popping another piece of his jerky in his mouth, “Should probably keep it down. So loud you may attract some infected.”

You can’t help but smile at his stupid rebuttal. You give him props for making you feel less foolish.

“Sorry,” you mumble, eating another slice intentionally loud, “Can’t help myself. They are just so crunchy.”

You hear him giggle, his smile easing your churning stomach.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ll forgive you this one time.”

You knew the ride to this hospital would be long, but you didn’t realize how barren the landscape would be. You also didn’t realize how bad your ass would hurt. You and Joel finally pull off into some woods when the sun starts to set. Joel acts like he knows exactly how to navigate the woods, guiding his horse deeper and deeper. In between some large trees, you spot a lake.

“Wanna go swimming?” You question after hours of no conversation. He glances back at you with a sly smirk on his face. When you look to your right, you notice a small path. Joel clicks his tongue for his horse to follow it. You two trot through the leaves, before coming upon a small decrepted cabin.

“This is us,” He states as he halts his horse.

He had secretly always pictured taking you out here. He could not help but insert you into his small fantasies. Some nights he would imagine what it would be like to have you stick by his side forever. He always felt guilty afterward.

You look at the building in wonder, completely speechless. You assumed you would be camping on the forest floor, not in an intimate cabin by a lake. You swing your leg over and slide off your saddle. Joel starts to tie up his horse nearby and you follow suit. You continue to look at the cabin, curious as to who kept up with it. It looked well maintained, besides some cobwebs at the peak of the roof.

“Is this yours?”

He shakes his head, “No. Technically Tommy’s. He goes this way to get to another settlement about 50 miles south. He found this place on a whim and cleaned it up.”

You look around the area, seeing there’s even a fire pit right by the water. It had chairs and stones to outline the charred wood. You could not help but imagine what this place was before Tommy found it. How many fun nights were probably spent here by the original owner? If you had no one to go back to, you would just live here. But the more you think about that scenario, you think about how lonely you would probably get. Maybe if you had someone to stay with you.

You finally look back at Joel. He’s standing on the stone path with his eyes locked on you. You get self-conscious for a moment, realizing he probably noticed how entranced you were with the surroundings.

That’s exactly what he was thinking, too. How beautiful you stood in the shadows of the trees, your eyes curiously glancing around like a kid in a candy shop. You had him wrapped around your finger without even knowing it.

“You good if we stay here overnight? Get back on the road tomorrow?”

How could you ever say no to an offer like that?

You nod, swallowing back your insecurity, “Yeah, for sure.”

Joel could build a good fire. Watching him gather all the wood and place them into a perfect formation. As soon as he lights it, it builds and builds. When the warmth envelopes you, you start to finally feel at ease. Joel sits down with a stick, nudging the fire every so often.

He felt guilty. He felt like he was betraying your father, a man who was trusting him with his daughter. He should not be imagining how a little life in the woods would look like with you. He should not be picturing how beautiful you would look underneath him. He should not be having these devious thoughts about you. His eyes are trained on the flames as they build, trying to push those daydreams away.

When his sleeve lifts as he toys with the charred wood, you notice the watch on his wrist. It looks ancient, the face of it shattered. You don’t realize you’re staring at it until he snatches his hand away from your view.

“Sorry,” You retract, sitting further into the chair, “Your watch is broken.”

He places the stick next to his foot, finally out of his head for a moment, “Yeah, I’m aware.”

You were so stupid. You know not to pry further, knowing there’s probably a story and you don’t feel like you’re at a stage with Joel Miller to dive deeper. He notices how small you making yourself, and it makes him feel bad. He never wants to make you insecure.

“Your necklace,” He starts, trying to place your mind somewhere else. It was a feature on your body that he noticed ages ago, but he never tried to beg the question, so this seemed like a great time to move the subject along. “Is it a moon?”

You reach up to your throat, feeling for the necklace you never took off. It feels like he almost wants to see if you will spill your story first. He is bad at reading women, sometimes. Most of the time.

“Yeah, it was my sister’s.”

He feels stupid, instantaneously. As soon as those words fell from your lips, he put his face in his hands.

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

Your feelings towards what happened 20 years ago were drastically different than how you feel now. You could still feel the horror and the pain you felt, but it wasn’t so gut-wrenching anymore. It honestly doesn’t even feel like it happened to you.

You drop the crescent moon charm from your hands, “No, it’s okay. She died on outbreak day. She was a bit older than me, her name was Reagan.”

He looks up at you and just nods, taking in the information. You don’t know if it’s a gesture for you to continue to talk, but you take it as just that.

“Her and my mom were at one of her soccer games when all hell broke loose. From what I heard, she was bit by one of her teammates and when me and my Dad were packing up our things to get out of there, I grabbed some of her stuff. A necklace, a sweatshirt, and her favorite pair of sneakers. I don’t know why. But yeah, this necklace is the only thing that survived 20 years. Sweatshirt got too small, shoes got too torn up.”

You don’t even notice the tears pricking in your eyes until you blink. You don’t even remember what she looks like, her face is kind of jumbled in your memory. You remember her hair though, long and brown and super curly. Joel just listens, his eyes trained on your hands as you nervously rub them together. When you peer up at him, you see the mutual pain written on his face.

He thinks to his beautiful Sarah. His eyes fall to his broken watch. The pain is still very palpable.

“‘m glad we have somethin’ from our people. Somethin’ to remember them by, ya’ know?”

You scan his broken watch and nod timidly. “Yeah, something to remember them by.”

You stand up after eating some more food you packed, ensuring you’re somewhat nourished before you go to sleep. Joel stares at the fire, his eyes heavy with exhaustion. He knows he has to sleep, but he knows you need it more. He’s willing to give up his hours for yours.

“You want me to do first watch?” You quiz, hoping to get the answer no. Instead, he just shrugs. You cross your arms, a cool shiver going down your back as you step away from the fire.

“I’ll start first,” He mumbles, grabbing his poking stick, “There’s a bed in there all ready for you. Get some rest, we got a long day tomorrow.”

You respond with a slight wag of your head, “Okay, goodnight, Joel.”

You turn on your heels and head towards the front door of the cabin. You creak the door open. It’s pitch black so you step back onto the small porch to grab the lantern Joel lit a while ago. You slowly creep through the one-room cabin, placing the lantern on the small table by the door. It lit up most of the room so you got a great look at the wooden framed bed, waiting for you to lay upon it.

You feel a pang of guilt making Joel sit outside to guard you as you slept. You knew you needed rest. You also knew it would start getting colder and colder and that fire would die eventually.

Joel could handle himself, after all. You would just have to push your worry aside. When you curl up onto the hard mattress, you think back to the last time you were left to trust another man to look after you as you slept. It was a traumatizing night, so instead of worrying yourself, you close your eyes and remind yourself that Joel is safe. Dad trusts Joel. Joel is a good man.

Sleep eventually takes over, your soft snores rattling off the wooden walls.

After a couple of hours, the shivering takes over Joel’s body, so he creeps into the cabin. The lantern is dimmer, slowly running out of fuel. He shakes his head, smiling to himself at your disregard for resources. He walks over to the small wood-burning oven, opening the door to it as quietly as he can. You don’t even stir. You’re a deep sleeper, he would remember.

He starts a fire with the old coals, warming up the small space. Once he stands up from his squat, he hisses at the crack of his knees. He glances over at you, making sure he did not wake you. Nothing.

You were a peaceful sleeper, your mouth slightly ajar. To Joel, you were always so beautiful. Not even just your looks, but your kind and reserved nature. You always gave him a delighted smile when he looked your way. You were dedicated to always being there for your father, which would always melt his cold heart. He would always watch you with a careful eye, praying that you would somehow get older or him, younger. He hated himself for admiring you so often, especially since he respected your father so much. But you were right there.

He sat himself in the old recliner chair near the door, peaking out the window every so often. He would always find himself training his eyes back on you, watching your chest rise and fall slowly.

It takes everything in him not to curl up next to you.

The second day starts off a bit rough.

When you wake up in the early morning hours, you take notice of a sleeping Joel in the corner of the room. You spring up, loudly rattling the bed frame. It sends Joel jumping out of his skin, his eyes flying open to look at you.

You are panting like you just ran a mile.

“Jesus Christ, girl,” He barks, his tone tired but also vicious, “Thought someone had you at gunpoint.”

“You were sleeping!”

“Shit, yeah I was, wasn’t I?” His tone is more relaxed, sort of annoyed. He rubs his eyes, glancing outside. Your horses were still there and it doesn’t seem like you guys have been ransacked.

You clench your fists, “You’re lucky we didn’t get shot in our sleep or something.”

He rolls his eyes, slowly rising from the chair he took over, “That’s a little dramatic, sweetheart. We are fine.”

After that comment, you did not want to talk to Joel Miller.

You also start to question if you can trust him. He should’ve woken you up to take charge of the watch, but instead, he ignorantly fell asleep and risked your life.

When you pack up to leave, he realizes how rattled you are. He wants to apologize, but he’s too stubborn to do so. You were being dramatic. But he shouldn’t have said that. He should’ve kept that comment to himself. He was never really good at holding his tongue, always saying the first thing on his mind.

When the sun sets on the second day, Joel promises you two should be in Salt Lake the next afternoon. The whole day pretty much consisted of you two bickering about state capitals. He swears the capital of Pennsylvania is Philadelphia.

“It’s not, it’s Harrisburg,” You would say.

You also talked about times before the Infection. He mentions his daughter, Sarah, telling you about how she used to play soccer and she loved going to the Texas State Fair. It makes your heart happy to hear him light up about her, but it makes you want to cry hearing a father talk about his dead child. You can’t imagine that type of pain, and you hope you never do. He doesn’t even know why he’s suddenly baring his soul to you, but he starts to feel like his walls are falling away and he’s comfortable around you.

He tells you about how he plays the guitar, which you lock onto quickly.

“You’ll have to show me how good you are,” You smile, imagining Joel Miller strumming along to some folksy song you request. He can only imagine what type of music you would want to hear from him.

“When we get home,” He mutters, “I'll give you a performance.”

“I cannot wait.”

The conversation with you was easy. You could get anything out of him, pretty much. You were a lot like your father, but softer. He enjoyed your company a bit more. Your laugh was infectious and you were a lot easier on the eyes, of course. When you two stop for a break, he watches as you look for four-leaf clovers on the forest floor. When you find one, you pick it up and bring it over to his hunched-down frame.

“My mom used to say they were for love and luck,” You explain, “Think you need it for both.”

He knew you were joking by the way you giggle and return to your spot on the ground. He just shakes his head and sticks the clover in his jacket pocket.

He was dreading being back in Salt Lake. He doesn’t want to relive that day when Ellie was practically ripped from him. It sent him spiraling just thinking about all the outcomes that could’ve transpired that day.

He contemplates telling you for a few brief seconds.

He wouldn’t have much to lose, especially now that everything is said and done. But then fear takes over and he wonders, would you judge him for it?

He imagines how you would react. How your nose would probably scrunch up, how your disposition towards him would soon contort into horror. You would probably call him a monster. You would probably never look at him the same way, with that beautiful smile and attentive gaze.

“You okay, Joel?”

You two were positioned on the edge of some woods off a dirt road. Joel didn’t want to attract anyone with fire, so you two decided you would just camp on the ground near the highway you would end up following to get into the city.

“‘M all good,” He practically whispers, “Just tired. You mind gettin’ first watch?”

You just silently nod, watching him rise from his spot and move over to the sleeping bags you two had set up when you arrived. You watch as he awkwardly wiggles his large frame into a small sack. It makes you giggle a bit. He positions himself with his back to you, his front facing into the woods. He can’t spend his time staring at you like he would like to, he needs to sleep.

You realize he has a leaf stuck on the back of his head. You couldn’t help yourself, it was going to bother you for as long as you were awake. You stand up and slowly creep up to him.

You squat down and pluck the leaf out of his thick curls. His head snatches back at you, knitting his brows together in confusion.

Secretly deep down, you just wanted to find a reason to touch him.

“Can I help you?”

You give him a shit-eating grin, “Yeah, you just got leaves in your hair. It was going to bother me if I didn’t get it out. You’re very, very welcome.”

He rolls his eyes, “Can I sleep now?”

“Don’t know, I’m already getting bored without you glaring at me.”

You were now on a mission to annoy him, he guesses.

Without thinking, he responds with a comment that would stick with you all night.

“Yeah, you like it when I look at you, don’t ya?”

The homestretch was only about another 20 miles. You and Joel had made good time, only taking about three days to get to the hospital. After the subtle flirting with Joel the night before, you got a little more ambitious with your advances.

Before you two took off to get to your destination, you asked Joel if you could change your clothes. You had mud all over your jeans and your shirt was reeking of body odor. The natural deodorants that were handmade in Jackson only did so much.

“Yeah, make it quick,” He orders, pointing to a more private area of the camp, “There’s some bushes over there.”

“I’m not getting dressed in a bush, Joel. Just look away,” You test, already shrugging off your flannel. He notices your bold move, instantly peeling his eyes away from your direction. This can not be happening to him right now.

“What the hell,” He murmurs, his hands propped up on his hips, “You’re doin’ this on purpose.”

You feel your cheeks heat up, “Doing what on purpose?”

“Testin’ me. Me and my patience.”

You throw your shirt over your head and grab one of your spare ones from your pack, “Well, if it’s a test, you’re passing with flying colors, Miller.”

He glances back at you without even really thinking, spotting you in your bra with a shirt covering your eyes. It’s almost like when you tell a child not to press a button, and it makes them want to do it even more.

He wanted to keep looking.

“Fuck,” He says under his breath, trying to push those types of thoughts out of his mind.

You shimmy off your pants, folding them as soon as you get them off your legs. You needed a shower so bad, you felt so filthy.

“You think we could stop back at the cabin on the way home? I want to bathe.”

Thinking about you naked and taking a bath made his dick hard.

“Yes,” He manages to say, “Hurry up, please!”

You grin at his frustration, “Fine, fine. I’m almost done.”

You and Joel trot along an abandoned highway, cars littering every lane. It was nothing new to you. You have seen plenty of cities in your lifetime. Each time was a bit different, but for the most part, they were all the same. Riddled with infected and bombed to shit.

You think back to when Tommy said Joel had been here before. Your mind starts to wonder, and being that you still had a couple of hours before you got to see the actual hospital, you decide to speak up and ask.

“When was the last time you were here?”

He thinks for a second. He was waiting for these questions.

“Over a year ago.”

You shake your head, “Was there a reason?”

You had no business prying into Joel’s life, but you felt like after spending days with him, there was some kinship. Maybe even a friendship.

“Ellie’s mom was a Firefly. They had a base camp out here,” He explains, but would he go further? Would he spill all the beans?

It’s technically not his story to tell. But then again, Ellie didn’t even have the truth, so it was a story only he knew.

You wait before responding, “Did you find her?”

“Who?”

“Ellie’s mom,” You press, glancing around some cars. You are trying to act like you didn’t care, but you could tell from the moment you entered the outskirts of the city, Joel was plagued with the weight of the atmosphere. His shoulders got heavier, his eyebrows further knitted together. He was tense.

“No, she’s dead. So I brought her home,” He says, half-bending the truth. He’s lying, but not really. Ellie’s mom was dead but that was never the reason they came out here. He just wants to say it, but his chest feels like a weight is pushing down, almost cracking his ribs. He swallowed the guilt.

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”

You didn’t have much else to say, letting the silence eat away at the prickle of your arm hairs as they stood up. You try to relax, but now that you are in the city, it feels real. You traveled all this way for medication so Jackson would not shun you. It sounded kind of stupid, coming all this way in hopes of a stocked Firefly hospital.

You also traveled all this way with Joel Miller. You managed to speak to him without tripping over every word and poking fun at him. You watched him sleep at night, looking so peaceful in the woods surrounding him. You try to think about the last time you saw him smile. You saw him differently, now. He came all this way to help you and your dad. He is risking a lot, disregarding his duties back home, just so he can be with you and protect you.

You ponder if things will be different when you get home. Maybe he would talk to you more when he came to the Tipsy Bison. Maybe he would wave back at you when you saw him around town.

You secretly hoped being next to him for so long would change your relationship with him.

Joel starts to ride next to you, studying your face as you stare forward.

“What are you thinkin’ bout so hard over there?” He poses, watching your face twist when he speaks up.

You lick your lips, “Thinking about what it’s gonna be like when I get home.”

“What do ya’ mean?”

You halt your horse to look over at him. He does the same.

“We came all this way and I am scared when we get back, you won’t want to talk to me anymore.”

He shakes his head, a slight chuckle escaping his lips, “Kiddo, your dad’s my patrol partner. ‘Course, I’ll still talk to you. You’re always around.”

The nickname makes you cringe. You don’t want to be a kid to him.

“Right, of course.”

When you get to the edge of the city, Joel starts explaining the game plan. How you will get to the hospital, do your sweep as quick as you can, and don’t meander around. He also explains how the exit plan is to drop everything, no matter what, and return to the horses. You see someone? Run.

You want to say you know how to handle yourself, but you resist and just nod in understanding.

To your surprise, you two do not run into any hoards. You turn a corner and spot a couple of infected twitching near an old school, and you two carefully back up and go up another block to avoid them altogether. You two don’t say anything to each other as you spot the hospital in the distance. Joel just points forward, having you trot at his side.

You pull out your gun when you start to hear some clicking nearby. Joel gestures to you to be quiet and continues to the front of the hospital. You two ride your horses to the ambulance drop-off, parking them there. When you jump down, you start to grab your pack so you can fill it with whatever supplies you find. Joel does the same, throwing his leather backpack over his shoulder. You check the magazine of your gun and take off the safety.

“Okay, we stay close to each other,” He explains in a hushed tone, “Grab whatever you think we need.”

You wiggle your head in agreement. He raises his rifle as you two enter the side door. The hospital is quiet besides the wind blowing through some shattered windows. You click on your flashlight that is attached to your backpack, making sure it’s pointed forward. The main corridor leads you down to some triage rooms and nurse's stations. Joel gestures to you to check out some triage rooms. You find some bandages and some tongue presses. You grab the entire box of bandages and stuff them in your bag. When you return to the hall, Joel is stuffing some of his finds in his pack.

“No meds yet,” He grumbles. You two press forward, keeping your steps silent. You find some lab rooms off the main hallway and you two scope out each room carefully, your guns still drawn and at the ready. You find more items; some gloves, masks, and some scissors. You pick them up, stuffing them in your back.

You hear movement from behind you and quickly spin. It’s just Joel, holding a couple of vials of medication. You rush towards him, using your light to see what the vials read.

levofloxacin

amoxicillin

“Jackpot,” You murmur, “Any more?”

He grabs a baggie sitting on a table nearby, “Not that I saw.”

You continue searching, not finding much of anything in the drawers. A lot of the stuff is picked through.

You point to a central staircase, “Wanna go up?”

“Yeah, right behind you.”

Joel was reeling, spotting some areas where blood was splattered across the walls as he walked through the hospital. It was terrifying to put himself back in this exact spot. It felt like a fever dream. Now he had you with him, another person he cared too much about to admit to anybody, let alone himself. He cared about you in a whole different way than he cared about Ellie.

You trail up the stairs, finding some old labs and nurse's stations. All were picked through. You couldn’t help but notice the blood all over the floor in some areas. You try to figure out what could have transpired here, but you don’t even try to beg the question to Joel. With the look on his face, you are afraid to say much of anything.

Something bad happened here and he was a witness to it.

It made you want to hurry up and spare his feelings. Instead of taking careful and methodical steps, you run room to room searching drawers and counters for anything of value. You find some alcohol swabs, safety pins, and some wrist splints. When you get to the last room in the hallway you’re in, you hit the jackpot. It’s a cabinet with some vials.

You start to quietly read them off to Joel who’s standing on the threshold of the room.

“Grab them all,” He says, pulling his pack off his shoulder so you can put some into his, “We can find use for ‘em.”

You also find some sutures and unopened syringes. You wish you could get down on your knees and thank whatever god is up there for blessing you with everything. You don’t believe in that though, so instead you excitingly grab Joel’s arm and shake it.

“Let’s get this all home,” You smile, pressing your fingers harder into his bicep, “Maybe celebrate with something strong from the bar.”

Then you hear it.

Click. Click. Click.

Joel grabs your arm back, shoving you behind him. He slings his pack over his shoulder and you do the same. You never had many issues with killing infected, but you did not know what you were dealing with. It was dark and all too quiet for too long. Joel creeps forward, his gun drawn forward to peek out the door. When you do the same, he tucks you back behind him.

Lining the hallway is about 3 clickers. Your stomach drops as they slowly make their way to the sounds you two made seconds ago. Joel glances back at you, his face very serious and stern.

You can read the look on his face and being that you dealt with these fuckers before, you know that you need to be silent. He looks back down the hall, spotting an exit in a staircase that’s slightly blocked by one of the clickers. He waves you along as he slowly tiptoes down the hallway. You get closer and closer to the first clicker and your gun is trained right at them as you keep your distance. You can tell by the clothing that it was a woman at one time, the infection growing out of every crevice of her body.

She clicks and clicks, but does not attack you. You and Joel continue, not making a sound as you shuffle past the next one. But once you get close to the one closest to the door, something snaps and it’s like they all realize exactly all at once. One squeals and the others follow suit. Joel yells for you to run, but you don’t budge, emptying your gun into the closest one. It crumbles to the ground. With that one down, Joel grips your wrist tightly and flings you towards the door. You two rush out as Joel lights up the hallway with gunfire.

You now know that you’re attracting every infected in a mile radius so time is of the essence. You practically fall down the stairs trying to get to the bottom. Joel does not like how fast you moving, pressing you to run faster. You two sprint down the hallway as two runners come full speed at you from an opposing hallway. You try to shoot but your gun is empty. You scream for Joel to do something and he puts them down expertly. He’s spot on even with the adrenaline coursing through his veins. You find the door you came in from and quickly make your way to Ranger. He seems sort of spooked so you try to gingerly climb up him, grabbing his reigns from the pole you tied him to. Joel is quick to mount his horse. He pulls his horse back, guiding it to head back the way you guys came.

You follow suit, hearing stirring from all around you as your hair whips in the wind. You are not worrying about the noise you two are making now, galloping down the once-busy streets of Salt Lake City.

“Don’t stop til’ I say so!” Joel calls out. You can hardly hear with your heartbeat in your ears and the wind against your ear drum.

You get to the edge of the city after about 20 minutes of dodging left-behind cars and random barriers. You get to the point where the foliage takes over and the infected taper off. You don’t realize it until you start slowing down and your heart gets back to its normal pace, you’re freezing.

You yell out for Joel, who’s still going quite fast. He halts completely, letting you catch up with his step.

“We have to stop, I’m freezing.”

You weren’t wearing all your layers and you knew it would be detrimental if you didn’t stop to wrap up before you two continued your journey. Joel nods, trotting off the main part of the road into some woods.

When you get off your horse, you can feel Joel’s eyes lock onto your vibrating body.

“Jesus, girl,” He dismounts, wrapping his reigns around a nearby branch, “The wind do you that much damage?”

You can’t help but laugh as you rifle through your pack to find your extra layers. You can remember packing two thermals, but with the way you’re shaking, you can’t even grip onto the clothes to move them around to search. You don’t even realize Joel has come to your side, you only notice when he nudges your side with his three fingers. You move out of his way so he can look, but you can’t help but feel the warmth his gentle touch gives you on your hip.

He pulls out a thermal, handing it out to you.

“Just put it over your other long sleeve,” He instructs, digging for another layer for you. You take his advice and throw it over your head. When your head pops through the neck hole, you spot him smirking at you.

“If you don’t warm up soon, I may have to share my body heat so we can get back on the road,” Joel jokes, watching you pull your hair out of the back of your long sleeve. You didn’t hate the sound of that, truthfully.

“Guess I will try my best not to warm up then.”

He shakes his head, grabbing onto your other thermal, “You can’t say stuff like that to me, darling.”

“Why not?”

Joel has slipped up a couple of times already, he wasn’t planning on giving in. But the teasing was fun and light-hearted. He knew in his heart it was not going to turn into anything.

Right?

“Because I don’t think it’s a very good idea for us to talk like that to one another,” He explains, stepping back as you add the other shirt onto your already warming body, “May lead us somewhere we can’t come back from.”

You swallow, “Maybe I’d like that.”

It takes you a day and a half to get back to the cabin. Joel promised that you two could spend a whole day there if need be. You two were physically and mentally exhausted. The horses needed rest too, you could tell Ranger was beat.

When you arrive on the property, Joel makes sure to scope out a radius before you two settle in. Ever since the sly passes you made at him, he’s been more quiet. You can tell he’s deep in thought. Maybe it wasn’t about you, but he had something on his mind.

You use the fire stove to warm up some water from the lake to give yourself a quick “bath”. You just used an old rag and some bar soap to scrub your limbs, trying to get off all the caked-on dirt. Joel stayed outside by the fire, cooking up some squirrels he was able to trap. You stood in your undergarments, lathering your skin, watching him from the window as he poked at the fire.

You felt a bit better once you were clean. The growl in your stomach was dull and kind of painful. You needed to eat, so you got your dirty clothes back on and headed outside to prop yourself up next to Joel.

When you open the cabin door, his head snaps over to you.

“Howdy, cowboy,” You gleam, walking down to the stump next to him. You couldn’t help but flirt now. It was funny to watch him squirm, the glint in his eyes not hard to notice.

“You all clean?”

You nod, giving him a cheeky smile. “Yeah, now you go get yourself all cleaned up.”

He grabs his stick poker, “Don’t got any soap.”

“Use mine.”

Joel stops his motion immediately to train his eyes back on you. “You want me to smell like you?”

“Well, I smell delicious, so why not?”

He scans your body with his eyes, “Cause if we get home and your Dad smells your soap on me, he’ll put it bullet between my eyes.”

You know he’s being dramatic, finding any excuse to opt out of using the soap you just used on your body.

“So, what you’re saying is,” You clear your throat before continuing, “If my dad wasn’t your friend, you’d lather yourself with my soap?”

He contemplates for a moment, “Yeah, and other things.”

Your heart stops beating for a second. Joel can not help but smirk at your reaction. He was playing with fire, literally and figuratively. The tension between you two was so heavy, that you do not think you could even take a deep breath in.

He stands up from his spot next to you. “Why don’t ya eat, sweet thing? I have to clean myself up, I guess.”

Joel can not do this.

You were his friend’s daughter. Sure you were grown, beautiful, strong-willed, and everything he could want and more but he could not take advantage of you. The only way he felt this way right now was because tensions were so high back in Salt Lake. You two have spent a lot of time together, the hormones… what the fuck is he thinking?

You sit by the fire, your stomach doing back flips as you think about Joel in the cabin, by himself, practically half naked.

Why were you doing this to yourself?

Your heart is racing faster than it ever has. No clicker, no stranger, nothing has made you this nervous. Your hand reaches for the door handle, but before you can turn it, Joel rips open the door.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

You stand there, dumbfounded. “I-I don’t know.”

He’s standing over you, his chest rising faster the more you keep your eyes trained on him. He has a green flannel on, the top couple of buttons undone. You lift your hand to touch the skin peeking through, but he stops your movements before you can make contact. You note the scent of wood burning in the cabin and it’s a lot warmer than you left it. Joel must have started the stove again.

“We can’t.”

You shake your head, “No, we can’t, can we?”

You two know better. You know better. You know better.

You are breathing in each other’s spaces. You don’t even want to look him in the eyes. His arm snakes around your midsection, pulling you forward into the cabin. At that moment, you knew that you two didn’t know any better.

It’s almost like you two silently made the decision.

“We can’t tell anyone about this, sweet girl,” He whispers, his hands still firmly on your back. You could not resist this temptation anymore. He was right in front of you, wanting you just as badly as you wanted him.

Your eyes glance up at his dark sultry gaze, “It’s our little secret.”

His hand reaches up, gracing your chin with his touch. When he dips down to meet your height, you finally get bold and extend your hand up and around his neck. Your lips connect and you feel like a million little butterflies explode in your stomach. You had never desired a kiss from anyone as much as you did with Joel.

He’s eager and impatient, though. He’s not as soft as you imagined for a man who hardly spoke. He just wants to feel you everywhere, all at once. His mouth melts into yours, his tongue exploring every inch of yours. He’s moving you around the room, stumbling over furniture and shoes as he backs you into the large wooden bed frame.

“So fuckin’ perfect,” He mumbles into your lips as soon as he lifts you up onto the mattress. It catches you by surprise, mainly because you never expected him to manhandle you in this way. He’s hungry for every inch of you. After all these months of secretly pining for him and him not giving you any positive response, you never anticipated something like this happening. Especially at a time like this.

“Joel,” You whine, pulling him down on top of you as you fall back into the flannel blankets, “I need you everywhere.”

He grins peppering kisses down your neck, “Don’t worry, I will treat you so fuckin’ good. Been wantin’ you for so long.”

It was so filthy and hot. Your dad’s patrol partner, his best friend. Keen to make you feel good? And wanting it for a while? You must be imagining his words because you can’t even comprehend the situation.

But it’s true. Joel’s secretly been watching you when you’re not looking. When you sling drinks on Friday nights, he watches you from a booth in the corner. Tommy’s caught him a couple of times, smacking him and reminding him that you were off limits. When you came to his house with extra pot pie or soup, he would watch you walk away from his house from his living room window.

This taboo yearning kept him up at night. But now, he has you alone and he needs a taste.

He pulls back to look at your face, “Are you sure you want me?”

You can’t help but giggle a bit.

“Joel, I’ve been wanting you for longer than I would like to admit,” You purse your lips as you bring your hand up to trace his collarbone, “Think about you all the time.”

It was the truth. Your mind was taken up but all his little sly comments. The way he would drop anything to help you or your dad. His beautiful brown eyes didn’t help one bit either.

“My god, girl…Gonna have me cumming in my jeans like a teenager.”

He returns to laying kisses all along your body. It started with wet kisses down your neck, only for it to trail right where your shirt begins, right below your collarbones. You push him back for a moment, taking your shirt off over your head. He watched you carefully, ensuring there was no hesitancy with your actions. He wanted to be absolutely positive that this is what you wanted.

As soon as you reach for the clasp of your bra, Joel grabs your arms away.

“Let me,” He mumbles, letting his fingers trace along the seam of the black fabric before using his right hand to undo the back. With him this close to you again, you inhale sharply, catching the scent of your soap.

“See you took up my offer,” You tease, letting your bra fall down your shoulders, “Did you get clean just for this, Miller?”

He catches a glimpse of you under the bra and his mind goes blank. You notice his change in disposition and decide it’s best to discard every other article of clothing completely. You struggle to get your jeans off, so he helps by practically ripping them off your legs. He can’t help but spot the soak undies attached to your jeans. When you are bare under him, he gawks at you for a moment.

“A beautiful woman like you,” He shakes his head, biting his lip. He unbuckles his pants before he stands and shoves them down his legs. While he’s making an effort to get as naked as you, you start unbuttoning his flannel. He watches you take your time, thumbing each button slowly. He tilts your head back up, his eyes leering at you for a moment. “And you want someone like me?”

You know he’s probably in his own head, so you feel the need to prove to him, that yes this is what I want.

You grab onto his neck and pull him back down into a passionate kiss. When you notice him give in, you use all your might to push him sideways and onto his back next to you. You mount his lap immediately, holding him down with your body weight. Your soaked slit trudges over his large hard-on while you dip your head to capture his lips. You feel his hands trail up the sides of your body, leaving goosebumps in his wake. He finds your boobs, palming them with his warm calloused hands. You were extra sensitive so as soon as his fingers find your nipples, you’re moaning into his mouth.

When your hips jet forward, his tip slides between your pussy lips. The sensation sends him into overdrive, his grip on your waist getting tighter. He’s so fucking big.

“No foreplay, you just wanna grind your pussy right onto my cock?” His question sends shockwaves through your body and you raise your hips up off his crotch. You kneel over him, anticipating to rotate your pelvis back onto him, but he has other ideas.

Because Joel has been thinking about what you taste like for too long. He can’t just fuck you. He lays back, all the while, dragging you up to his chest so your pussy is hovering over his pursed lips.

“Joel, what are you doing?”

You feel his hot breath huff onto your slick center, “I’m gonna devour this beautiful pussy, first. Need to get you warmed up.”

Without any warning, he wraps his arms around your thighs and pushes your center closer to his outstretched tongue. You gasp when he starts to run his tongue up and down your slit. You can’t help but settle around his face, your knees feeling like they may already give out.

You’ve never sat on someone’s face and watched them eat you out like a starved man. But Joel is precise with his motions, his mouth wrapping around your clit. When he starts to suck, the suction noise makes you whimper and shake. You have only ever cum by your own hand, so when the familiar heat rises in your stomach, you know instantly this is going to be the best sex you’ve ever had in your life.

Joel is a very easy man to please. He thoroughly enjoys watching women crumble above him, their orgasms surging through their bodies while his tongue is pressed into them. But with you, he wants to drudge it out of you over and over again. You’re so magnetic on top of him, your head thrown back in pleasure. Your hands rest on your shoulders as you grind down on him, your peak teetering the edge. He shimmies his hand in between your thighs and begins to use his fingers in you, just to drive you crazier. He’s fucking up into you with his pointer and middle fingers, managing to latch onto your clit while he does.

When you tumble into bliss, Joel moans into you, egging on your spasms. You lurch forward, dragging your center off his drenched lips. Your legs are limp as you try to crawl up the bed. Joel rolls over, creeping up the bed with you. You lay on your back, propping yourself up onto some of the pillows.

“Do you need a break?” He asks, his hands feeling up your bare, still kind of shaking, thighs. You shake your head “yes” and breathe out loudly. Your body is covered in a light sheen, the sweat pooling around your hairline. Joel lets you take a moment, making sure you are completely ready for him.

When you finally meet his eyes, your stomach fills with butterflies. He’s admiring you from his position, his eyes not finding yours until he’s done checking out your bare chest. You giggle, tugging on his wrists. He takes up your advances, positioning himself above you. He’s caging you in with his tanned strong arms, only allowing you to really move your upper body. You tangle your hands through his messy dark peppered curls, which makes him sigh. He secretly loved it when women felt through his hair.

“Fuck me,” He groans as he reaches down between you, grabbing ahold of his hard member. You watch as he drags it through your heat, gathering all your wetness before teasing your entrance.

“Joel, please.”

He smirks, pushing in just his tip, “Please what, baby girl? You want me to give you all of it?”

You are already overstimulated after your last orgasm and you are a bit nervous to imagine what all of it is. You nod, though, because the stretch is already so delicious.

“Please, Joel, please. I need it,” You whine, knowing how desperate you sound. It’s music to Joel’s ears.

“Shh, baby,” He eases in further, “I told you I’m gonna treat you real good. Gonna treat this pussy, so fuckin’ good.”

When he’s fully sheathed in you, your nails are digging into his shoulders. When he eases back to pull out some to ensure you can take it, you’re a moaning mess. It only eggs him on, feeling how slick you are and how tight you are around him.

“That’s right baby, take all of me,” He says as he lifts himself off you. You have nothing to grip onto now, except the sheets that line the queen-sized bed. Joel wants to watch himself slip out of you and go back into you with ease. You love the friction, but you know you need more.

You don’t know how, but it’s like he reads your mind. He starts to increase his pace, holding onto the back of your thighs as he drills into you. The curvature of his dick hits exactly where no man could ever reach.

“Oh my god, fuck Joel! Fuck!”

Your words only encourage him to go harder and faster.

“Keep screamin’ my name, baby doll.”

The sweat is dripping down his face with how much effort he’s putting into fucking you. You’re floored at how quickly your orgasm builds again, the sounds of him plowing into you alone sends you into overdrive.

As soon as you start to vibrate under him, Joel takes that as a great time to start thumbing at your clit. You feel every one of your nerve endings burning with such rapture, that you can’t even say anything. You’re just howling, no coherent words even coming out. Your vision goes white.

The scene is something out of the old pornos Joel used to watch. You’re writhing under him, the orgasm practically sending you cross-eyed. You reach up to anchor yourself down and the only thing you can find to grab is Joel’s forearm.

“Yes, Joel!”

His hips continue to snap into yours as you squeeze his cock with your gyrating hips. He’s fucking you through it, watching your face contort. Your grip on his arm hurts, but he does not care. It’s unbelievably hot to watch the girl he has adored from afar cumming around him. Over and over.

The scene is enough to have him chasing down his own high. The feeling of your cunt gripping onto him so tight, while his name is chanted from your lips, the cum practically shoots out of him before he has time to grab his shaft and pull out. He does not empty himself in you though, quickly prying himself out of your weeping hole and spilling out the rest onto your stomach.

“Shit.”

You don’t even realize what happened, not caring about really anything except for how wonderful and high you feel. Joel tumbles onto his side, half of his body resting on yours. His mouth is close to your ear so he whispers it to you, his voice shaky.

“I came inside you.”

You lick your lips, trying to regain some saliva in your mouth, “I do not care, Joel.”

He does not prefer that answer, but he accepts it for the time being. You could not feel your face at the moment, you did not have time to worry yourself over Joel cumming inside you. It was not the first time someone did that.

Joel rolls off the bed, his legs feeling wobbly with his first steps. He’s still half hard and stumbling over to the bowl of water he just used to clean off himself. He grabs a clean rag and soaks it in the soapy water. The least he could do was clean up his mess.

You watch him trudge over to you, the cum still pooled on your stomach and a bit in your belly button.

Joel places the warm towel on your lower tummy, wiping up his mess.

“Thanks,” You manage to say, your post-orgasm haze wearing off a bit. Now you’re just cold and exhausted. You shiver as soon as he removes the towel from your buzzing body. He notes it immediately and grabs the blanket that had been kicked to the floor. He lays it over you, making sure your full nude body is covered by the chilly air.

“I need to go take a leak, I’ll be right back.”

You try to stay awake. But as soon as he gets some clothes on and heads outside to relieve himself, you’re lulled to sleep by the sounds of the rustling woods that surround the cabin.

When you slowly open your eyes, you instantly notice how dry your mouth is. The itchy fabric of the blanket is tickling your bare limbs as you shift. Joel’s not beside you.

You sit up, glancing around the cabin. His stuff is still here, but he is not. You keep the scratchy blanket wrapped around you as you plant your bare feet on the wooden floor. As soon as you take your first step forward towards the front door, it slowly swings open.

Joel stands there, fully clothed, cheeks reddened from the cold outdoors.

“Mornin’,” He says with a sleepy voice, “Got up early to get the horses fed and saddled up.”

All you remember is him going to pee outside last night, right before you fell asleep. “Did you ever come to bed last night?”

“Yeah, only got a couple of hours of sleep. You took up most of the bed.”

You clear your throat, becoming hyper-aware suddenly that you are very naked under the blanket. Joel tries not to notice your natural sensuality when you wake up. Sleepy eyes, swollen lips, slightly tangled hair. Even if last night never happened, he would be completely enamored by you.

“Oh, okay,” You mutter, trying to act natural about the fact that you slept with Joel fucking Miller last night. “We all set then?”

He shuts the front door, cutting off any more cold from slipping in. You watch him slowly start to invade your space. He feels pulled towards you, the gravity overcoming every sense he has. He needs to be close to you, touching you, feeling you.

“Yeah, we are all set.”

Chills run down your spine when his cold hand reaches out and grazes your cheek. You flick your eyelashes towards him, not knowing what to say next. He dips down to your height, kissing your lips carefully. He is nervous you will back away from him, but you don’t. You lean forward into him, the weight of your entire body pressing into him.

He is the first to pull away, but you swear you could be latched onto him forever. His big brown eyes are lasered in on your eager lips, but in the back of his mind, he knows that you two need to get back home soon. He promised Tommy four days, nothing more. And you needed to get home to your Dad. Fuck. Your Dad. His fuckin’ friend.

“We have to get home,” Is all he says.

And then he’s gone. It’s like he blipped out of the room. You blink and the door slams and you are alone again.

You stumble out of the cabin with your backpack on, your eyes adjusting to the sunshine between the falling away leaves. Winter creeps in so quickly in Wyoming, you think to yourself.

Joel is already posted up on his horse, waiting for you to hurry along and join him. You pet Ranger for a moment before you hop up onto his back. He can’t help but realize how perfect you seemed in the sunlight. Your face hasn’t aged with time like his. It makes sense because you’re so much younger than him. You’ve lived a very full and traumatic life, sure, but you still had a lot more energy to live. He couldn’t picture that you’d want to spend the rest of it with an older guy with maybe 20 more years left in him if you’re lucky.

The thoughts start to eat away at him as you two make your way through the forest.

You assume he’s just tired from not getting a lot of sleep, so you just keep your lips sealed until you make it to the main trail back home.

“So, when we get home,” You break the quietness with your open-ended statement. Joel doesn’t know what you’re insinuating, so he just keeps his head forward. “What happens, then?”

He pulls back his horse's reins to position himself looking directly at you.

“What do you mean?”

You look at him suspiciously, “Do we tell people?”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Joel thinks.

“Tell them what?”

He has to be messing, right? You think.

But no, he’s deadly serious.

“About us,” You remark as Ranger trots a bit closer to Joel. He shakes his head and your heart sinks. He can’t do this, not after you two slept together.

“There is no us,” He grumbles, unable to look you in the eyes anymore, “We can’t do that. You’re too young.”

If you weren’t on a horse, you would’ve already smacked him. “What the hell, Joel? What if you get in my pants and make me feel special and now we are nothing? Because I’m a little bit younger than you?”

“No, it’s not like that-”

“Well, it seems like it is like that,” You bite the inside of your cheeks, holding back every instinct to burst into tears, “Fuckin’ asshole. I should’ve known better.”

When the walls of Jackson come into your line of sight, you could cry with excitement. Your hands were shaking, not only from the cold but the nerves. You had been silent the entire ride back. Your only desire was to get home to your Dad and ignore Joel Miller for the rest of your life.

You can only hope and pray that your father is on the mend. To keep on track and not let panic take over, you’ve tried to put your mind on other things this whole trip. Most of those things you wish you’d forgotten, already.

The doors open when you two get close. When the crack is big enough to see through, you spot some familiar faces waiting for you. Tommy, Maria, and even your father. He’s standing up straight, wrapped in layers of jackets and blankets. You tap Ranger with your foot, getting him to speed up. When you reach about 30 feet away, you practically fall off him to get your arms around your father.

A sense of relief floods your body. A tidal wave of happiness and solace. He’s okay. He’s alive.

When his scent reaches your nose, it triggers your tear ducts. After years of never having to really worry about him, knowing he can handle himself, you have felt this constant state of uneasiness the last week.

“My baby is back,” He grumbles into your hair, his arms locking around you, “I knew I could trust that Joel.”

You don’t have time to feel guilt over your actions, you’re just so happy he’s upright. You also don’t want to hear his God-forsaken name from your own Dad. When you pull back to inspect his face, you note the tiredness in his eyes. He looks better, but not his normal. You grab each end of the blanket that’s slowly slipping off his shoulders and bundle him tighter.

“Let’s get you back in the warm, how ‘bout it?”

You glance back at Joel who just nods, knowingly. You remember that you still have your backpack on, so before you stroll away, you shimmy out of it. Tommy watches you carefully as you hand it off to Joel.

“Get those meds to the infirmary,” You whisper to no one in particular. Joel studies your face, waiting for you to say something else. You do not. As he grabs your pack, you feel like Maria and Tommy are gawking at you two. Like they know something was left unsaid.

You two move differently around each other. When you shift one direction, Joel follows suit.

Joel feels like every eye in Jackson is on him. Tommy’s being the most piercing, watching him like a hawk as he grabs his horse and guides him towards the stables. While you stroll away with Maria and your father, Joel and Tommy bring the horses and supplies to the stables.

As you walk, you listen to Maria explain your father’s steady recovery. She mentions how Ellie has been keeping a careful eye on him. After she heard you and Joel were going to be gone together, she asked Maria if she could help him somehow. Once your dad got well enough to walk, she got him settled in your house. She’d go over there for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, just to help. It makes your heart swell when you hear your dad say how kind and generous she was, just like you.

Joel starts to unpack your bags from your horse first when he gets the horses parked.

“Somethin’ happen out there?” Tommy presses, noticing how odd you and Joel moved in front of him, “With her?”

“No, nothin’,” He lies, placing your bags on a table near Ranger. When he lifted the first duffle bag, he got a whiff of you and it made his stomach sink. “We just had a rough spot in the hospital. Clickers and shit. Nothin’ too crazy-”

“Joel, I know when you’re lyin’ to me,” His eyes are shooting daggers now. Joel was too old to be pestered by his little brother. He groans in annoyance but Tommy does not give up, “What did you do?”

“I didn’t do nothin’, Tommy.”

“Bullshit,” He grumbles, grabbing one of your bags, “Want me to ask her?”

“You won’t get anythin’ out of her. She’s mad at me, okay? She is pissed I won’t…”

He feels humiliated, his stomach twisting into knots. He would never intentionally hurt you. He just put his foot in his mouth when he realized how much your actions would change everything for him. He could not just be someone you slept with. He could not just leave it.

“You won’t what, Joel?”

He bites his lip, not wanting to say it out loud.

“I won’t let her ruin her life for me.”

Tommy’s eyebrows furrow, not completely understanding what he’s droning on about.

“What?”

“Jesus Christ, Tommy!” Joel wasn’t anticipating a shake-down when he got home. You two really didn’t help with those looks splattered across your faces when you rolled into Jackson.

“You slept with her, didn’t you?”

Joel shakes his head, peeling his eyes away from Tommy. Joel knew nothing could get past him, so he is practically surrendering. Tommy knew then.

“You dumbass,” He whispers, getting closer to Joel, “You slept with her when her daddy is your patrol partner? After I told you to stay away?”

Joel clenches his teeth, “I don’t need this right now. I’m gettin’ these meds to the infirmary and then I’m takin’ her stuff to her.”

“Joel-”

“Just fuckin’ drop it, Tommy. I ain’t doin’ this.”

Your Dad has a nice setup, thanks to Ellie. She has transformed the downstairs guest room into a wonderful stay, with tons of pillows and bedside service. When you get inside the house, Ellie is there. She stands in the corner of the living room, timidly, as you guide your dad back to his warm bed. Maria and her wait for you to handle getting him back to his bedroom. Even though his recovery has been a steady incline, he’s very weak and exhausted all the time. It’s his body’s reaction to fighting a rough illness, but he made sure to reassure you that Sidney told him it’ll be a couple of weeks before he’s 100% back to normal.

You get him back in bed, his eyes already drooping to find slumber again. You manage to get his shoes off and help him under his covers. Once his head hits the pillow, you stand by the bed for a minute to ensure he’s actually sleeping. You slip out of the room, and the sudden rush of comfort of being home takes over your senses. To hear the crackling of the fireplace, and the smell of your homemade candles. While you enjoyed every moment spent with Joel, there’s nothing like home.

For a second there, you thought you had that same feeling being next to him in bed. But maybe you were wrong.

You walk out to where Maria and Ellie stand. They are mumbling to each other while you kick off your boots by the door.

“Hey, Ellie,” You catch her attention, her freckled face down turning with concern. You smile, trying to ease her, “Thank you for all you’ve done here. I am glad he had someone like you looking after him.”

She nods, her lips twitching, “It’s no problem at all. I know how much you two mean to Joel and I just wanted to do what I could.”

Hearing his name sinks your heart, “We owe ya one.”

Because you did. No matter what would eventually transpire between you and Joel, you owe him your father’s life. His idea saved him. With how sick he was, Joel’s quick plan was enough to bring him home. Then for Ellie to spend her days looking after him while you two were gone? You were forever indebted to them. Sadly.

“Well, we should leave you to get settled. Let us know if you need anything at all,” Maria gestures to Ellie towards the front door. Their footsteps trail around you, heading to your front door. Before Ellie can reach for the handle, there’s a knock. You nod your head, letting her know it’s okay to open it.

Joel stands there, your bags in his hands.

You honestly just left your belongings for him to deal with. Joel looks down at Ellie, his eyes lighting up at the sight of her. She’s not as impressed, initially.

“Hey kiddo,” Joel acknowledges, before spotting Maria, “Mrs. Miller.”

“We were just heading out,” Maria says, pushing the door wider so she and Ellie can slip by his large frame, “Give the girl her things and let her settle back into her life, huh?”

Joel was already annoyed at the narrowed eyes and judgemental jabs. It’s like everyone somehow knew he fucked up.

You two watch Maria and Ellie leave, their breaths forming clouds in the cold sharp air. Jackson’s weather changed overnight, you think, remembering how it was more tolerable before you left.

“Can I come in?” Joel ponders, still holding your backpack and duffle.

It was cold and while you wanted to slam the door on him, you know you can’t. You move away from the threshold, gesturing for him to come in. His footfalls are heavy and drawn out. You shut the door, waving him towards the living room so your voices don’t carry down the hallway to your father’s newly set up bedroom.

He places your bags on the couch before he stretches his shoulders in discomfort. Your stuff was not that heavy, but Joel could not help but try to draw your attention. He glances around your living room, taking in some of the artwork and photos that line the walls. Some are old photos of you and your father, in which you don’t really resemble him at all.

“Back to how things were, huh?” You remark, bitterly. You wanted to attack him with every mean thing plaguing your mind, but you don’t. You were tired from all the travels but you were also tired of the idea of fighting for someone who does not care to fight for you back. You had done that for years with pointless boys.

The whole walk to your house, Joel’s thoughts were moving a million miles a minute. He did not want you to live your life resenting him. He cared for you deeply, but he did not want you to miss out on all the wonders of life. Joel could not give you kids. He could not give you 40 more years of happiness. He would be an elderly man before you could even reach menopause. He does not want you to regret things when you’re old and gray.

“I don’t want that. You know damn well I don’t want that.”

You could scream. But you stay even, not giving in to the temptation to just rip him a new one.

“I don’t know what you want, Joel. One minute you’re kissin’ me and begging to be with me, the next you’re telling me you can’t be with me because I’m too young.”

“Baby-”

“No! Don’t you dare? You had no intention of making this a thing, yet you played into it and got exactly what you wanted. I’m just another notch for you, ain’t I?”

Your hands are clenched, waiting for his delayed response. You are embarrassed and humiliated that you were delusional enough to let Joel toy with every one of your emotions.

“You know that ain’t true, girl. I just don’t want you to live your life regretting that I was a part of it, okay? You want to spend your days with an old man who can’t give you everything you want? ’m not good for you.”

He can’t let you make this mistake.

But you’re not easing up.

“What do you think I want? Kids? A simple life? A picket fence? Joel those are things I wanted when I was living in a world that didn’t have a brain-eating infection that’d turn people into zombies,” You’re huffing and puffing, trying to understand why he thinks he can tell you what you need and want.

“I spent years of my life wishing I could get those things, but I gave up a long ass time ago. I don’t want those things nearly as much as I want you. I fuckin’ want you, okay?”

You realize you’re not being quiet and your Dad could probably hear every word falling from your lips. He can hear you desperately plead with Joel Miller to be with you.

Joel is shocked you’re laying all this out. He can’t believe his ears when you say you want him. A man like him being wanted is quite unbelievable, especially by a woman like you.

You could hear a pin drop with how silent your house is. You fold your arms, trying not to give into the nausea you feel from spilling your soul to him.

“I just…” He fidgets with his hands for a minute before those puppy eyes glance up at you, “I don’t want to ruin your life.”

You step closer to him, your face inches away from him. You train your eyes on his mouth, unsure how to respond to such blasphemy.

“I have spent so many days thinking about what it’d be like to live in a world where the Joel Miller would even glance in my direction. I imagined what it’d be like to kiss him,” You’re whispering now, making sure this revelation is for his ears only, “I imagined what it’d be like to have a man who’d treat me well and look… Exactly like you. I have dreamed of you.”

Joel would have never guessed such a statement fall from your lips.

You breathe out, relieved it’s finally off your chest.

“I just don’t want to leave ya worse than I found ya,” His softness instantly makes you crumble into his arms. He holds you tight, before pulling away to search your face. You teeter forward on your toes, pressing a firm but attentive kiss to his lips.

When you draw back, “I’m not givin’ you up, Joel.”

The tension is shattered when you hear your Dad yell your name from down the hallway. You snap out of your trance of staring at Joel’s beautiful lips and dart toward the voice.

“Yeah?”

You open the door and see him, his eyes wide open and focused on the door.

“Who you talking to out there? Is that Joel?”

Suddenly you’re hyper-aware of every word you just said, scared half to death that your Dad would get out of bed and beat some sense into you. Joel follows you down the dimly lit hallway, but you don’t even hear him, too rattled by your father’s question.

“Yes, it’s me,” Joel speaks up, coming forward to meet your Dad’s confused expression, “How you feelin’, man?”

“I’m feelin’ like I’m hearing some odd things from down the hall. You two fighting?” His voice is breaking a bit.

The silence after he asks the question is deafening. You glance over to Joel whose mouth is slightly ajar, unable to move with an answer. You bite the inside of your cheek, wishing you could disappear into the wall nearby.

Joel cannot lie to his friend. He certainly would never do it with you right beside him.

“Yeah, you uh, heard us?” He barely manages.

“Yeah, I sure as hell heard my daughter beggin’ you to take her on, is that true?”

“Dad-“

“My daughter wants to date a man that’s 10 years younger than her own father? Kind of twisted.” He snaps, shoving the blankets off his legs. “But, I am gonna be honest… I expected this.”

You can hardly breathe with the tension in the air.

“Sorry?”

Joel’s tone is dry, and he’s unable to fully form a coherent thought.

Your dad coughs before he starts, “Well, I could tell by the way you looked at her that you had a thing for her, Miller. Didn’t think you’d be dumb enough to entertain it.”

“Dad, he’s not dum-“

“And I thought you’d get over this little schoolgirl crush, but I was mistaken, I guess.”

You were used to your Dad’s sarcasm and upfront jabs. You spent a lifetime throwing them back at him, but this time you had nothing to say. You watch as he settles back from obnoxiously tearing off his blankets.

You fiddle with your fingers, trying not to show your internal anxiety-riddled monologue. He thought you’d get over your crush. He always noticed how Joel looked at you. How did he look at you? How did you never notice?

Joel is spiraling, reverting to his original conclusions. He knew this was a horrible idea. He should have never stepped over the line. He’s a horrible man. You don’t deserve someone as awful as him.

He smacks his lips, making you and Joel come back down to Earth and out of your heads.

“Whatever is happenin’ between you two, I probably will never fully understand it. But you are adults, you do whatever makes you happy,” He says with both hands up in surrender, “I am too old to bother with my daughter’s love life. She’s a big girl, I trust her. But Miller, if you hurt her-“

“I’m a dead man.”

Your father laughs which in turn makes you smile crookedly.

“Just one thing,” He points to you, “I don't want to hear or see anythin’-”

You nod, cutting him off immediately, “Deal.”

Joel catches your eye when he smiles in your peripheral vision. You look over at him, a grin plastered to your face.

You can’t believe you’re actually going to do this.

And Joel can’t believe your father somewhat agreed to let it happen. He was sure he would have a gun in his face before he could even mutter a word. But instead, your Dad is receptive to him being with you, which is all you can ask for.

“Well, get along now, I wanna get back to sleep. You two were keepin’ me up,” Your dad grumbles, readjusting his frail frame to get comfortable in bed. You just nod, pointing at the door for Joel to exit. You follow suit, closing the door behind you tightly, making sure it clicks. Joel stands in the darkness of the hallway, waiting. He is in disbelief.

You just take one of his hands and bring it to your lips, softly pressing a kiss into his knuckles.

“Let’s go get cleaned up and take a nap,” You murmur, walking him to the end of the hallway to the bottom of the stairs. He accepts the offer, trailing behind you like a lost puppy.

You were not sure where this was all going to end up. Neither of you did. But you could not wait to carve the way with him, bringing every last one of your daydreams to life.

THE END

or is it? I have started writing snippets to go along with this story- if you want more, here's the link:

No One Fucks With My Baby

#joel miller fic #joel miller #joel x reader #joel miller x fem reader #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #joel miller the last of us #joel miller tlou #joel the last of us #joel miller fanfic #joel last of us smut #joel miller x reader #the last of us #post outbreak joel #dbf joel #dbf joel miller #gracieheartspedro #fic: who we are

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