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eupheme · 4 months

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JOEL MILLER - 2023 FIC RECS

this year has been filled with so many beautiful fics, I wanted to make a rec list to share & support everything I read. please check these out and support these creators, they are all incredible! 💖✨

— A Lover's Pinch by @hier--soir

a one-night stand with a charming texan turns into something much more thrilling when you discover he is your new college professor. joel miller is entirely off limits. but now that you’ve had a taste, will you be able to keep your hands to yourselves?

— A Matter of Timing by @lavenderursa

Before the world went to shit you and your neighbor, Joel, were involved. It was complicated then and now at the end of the world, it's much the same.

— A Minute From Home by @agentmarcuspike

�� A Sheep in Wolf’s Clothing by @jupiter-soups

joel miller is not quite as scary as the people of jackson believe him to be. at least, not around you.

— A Very Furby Christmas by @/proxima-writes

it’s christmas eve 1998 and joel miller thinks everything is perfect. / well, until his brother admits he didn’t get sarah the one present she wanted - the furby. now, joel has to go out on christmas eve to find the year’s hottest toy that’s been sold out for months / turns out, you’re on the same mission. and you’ve both found the last furby in town.

— Asking Nicely by @grippingbeskar

— Autumn Air by @swiftispunk

it’s been a month since you returned home from costa rica and you and joel have fallen into a blissful routine. when a rude awakening threatens to disrupt that peace, together you must make a decision…or two.

— Barbie Girl by @tightjeansjavi

Joel, Sarah and Tommy go to the Barbie movie opening weekend

— Be Good, Be Quiet by @/undercoverpena

bill tells you both you're sleeping in separate rooms when a thunderstorm doesn't allow you to leave. but joel isn't planning on getting any sleep.

— Blue Jeans N'Texas Dreams by @/tightjeansjavi

Joel Miller, single father; total soft dad has an astronomically enormous crush on you, his daughters horseback riding instructor.

— Boston Holiday. by @/amywritesthings

You’re decorating for the holidays in your Boston Quarantine Zone apartment. A begrudging Joel Miller gets involved.

— Bunny Tails by @sweetercalypso

When hunter!Joel finds reader picking flowers outside his cabin, he convinces her to come inside

— But He Does Have You by @undercoverpena

because he hasn’t got a lot of anything, but he does have you.

—Butterfly by @stargirlfics

Sometimes the path to healing starts with a reminder of what’s been lost

— Can’t Help Myself by @fettuccin-e

— Catching by @softlyspector

None of your partners had ever been able to make you come before. Joel changed that.

— Comfortably Close by @omgreally

You and Joel share a couch.

— Come Clean by @cupofjoel

joel comes home after a messy day on patrol, but you’re already in the shower

— Comfort Came Against My Will by @/undercoverpena

it’ll begin with a little beg, a whispered plea—fingers wrapping around his chin, mouth ghosting over his: Let me ride you, Miller.

— Creature Comforts by @galactic-basic

A gift. Joel didn’t call it that. Didn’t say as much. Didn’t say anything—actually. / But it’s yours. Your mattress. Your bed. There are so few things you can call yours these days.

— Crystal by @ezrasbirdie

Joel's live-in girlfriend is a little witchy. It takes some getting used to.

— Dinner & Diatribes by @tightjeansjavi

you’re the kind of love that Joel Miller has been dreaming of all his life

— Dinner Date by @juletheghoul

neighbour!Joel au

— Distracted by @/psychedelic-ink

there are many advantages to enrolling in a woodshop class: drawing you away from not-so-happy thoughts, relearning something that you enjoyed doing when you were a kid, and, well, the sight of watching mr. miller do something he’s undeniably good at.

— Does Your Mother Know? by @/cupofjoel

— Flesh and Metal by @/swiftispunk

you meet joel at a bar. he really likes your nipple piercings. that’s about it.

— From Eden, Love Grows by @moonlight-prose

Days spent in flower fields and cooking in a sunbathed kitchen with him.

— Grays by @/softlyspector

Joel likes to be read to and held and have his hair stroked. He would never dare admit it, though.

— Go Slow by @/frannyzooey

In the quiet of your bedroom, Joel guides you through it.

— Honeyed by @/softlyspector

You hate being touched, but you might be willing to put aside your discomfort for a tattoo from Joel.

— Honeymoon by @bits-and-babs

— Hurt by @/moonlight-prose

alone and trying to survive, you find your path crossing with a man who’s headed to boston of all places. he claims he’s looking for a new start, not realizing you might be it.

— I Crawl Home To Her by @/agentmarcuspike

after being stabbed, joel floats in and out of consciousness, between then and now, before and after, and his two daughters, both saving him in their own ways.

— I Know My Faults, But I Can't Hide Them… by @tarrenterror25

It’s all about surviving now. Joel knows it and so do you.

— I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus by @/thetriumphantpanda

Your daughter catches you kissing santa… or does she?

— Juniper by @/softlyspector

You're sleepy. Joel knows a good way to put you to sleep.

— Ktober 2023 Day 24- Lingerie by @flightlessangelwings

— Keep It On The Low by @/cupofjoel

just because you and joel broke up doesn’t mean you can’t still (secretly) enjoy each other’s company

— Let Me Take Care Of You by @spaceydragons

Joel had a rough day, you take care of him

— Living in a State of Dreaming by @/cupofjoel

it’s been a year since you, joel, and ellie returned to jackson, and you’re finally starting to feel a sense of security. but when the sun goes down and joel closes his eyes, the horrors beyond the walls still hunt him, out to take back the family he’s worked so hard to protect.

— Made By Hand by @tinycozycomfort

He has nothing to offer, after all; no love letter, no borrowed jacket, no wedding ring. This is all he has to show his devotion, to seal his promise—a fist full of glossy blue and the willingness to unfurl his body and scoop out his insides just to allow you a place to lay. All he can give you is himself.

— Met The Devil Last Night by @pedgito

made a joke about wanting to screw dirt-covered Joel even if he was deep in the trenches of hell and…well, yeah.

— Middle of the Night by @/frannyzooey

He comes to you for comfort.

— Midnights by @/omgreally

Joel pulls back, and the blown-pupil intensity in his eyes makes you clench. “That a challenge?” he wonders, fingering the waistband of your jeans. / “You got any better ideas on how to ring in the new year, Joel Miller?”

— Mine by @the-scandalorian

He wants it—has wanted it. / He wants the claim. The utter possession.

— Misbehavior by @/stargirlfics

It’s the first and last time you ever talk back to his face

— Moments by @charnelhouse

Joel and you in a hotel phone booth.

— More and More by @/moonlight-prose

“he wanted to know every part of you, everything you kept hidden for fear of it being rejected. and you let him.”

— Moss & Mushrooms by @/softlyspector

You are alone, always. Then, one day, a beast emerges from the forest you've never dared to go into.

— My Girl Now by @/psychedelic-ink

joel is used to asshole clients, and when one of them calls him an old man and basically demands him to finish his girlfriend’s kitchen in time, he expects you to be the same. But you’re the opposite. when he learns how you’ve been treated, he comes up with a plan to get back at your boyfriend.

— Old Partners, New Plans by @grippingbeskar

— One Bed by @frannyzooey

“there is only one bed” + joel miller

— Only Need Ten by @pascalpvnk

“Joel,” your whine muffled by your pillow. “I have to leave in fifteen minutes, I can’t be late for patrol again. We have to be back in time for Sunday brunch.” / “Only need ten, baby,” he drawled in a hushed tone, hooking his thick fingers beneath the waistband of your panties. “Please?”

— Picture by @/softlyspector

You really want to take Joel's picture. He can't really figure out why.

— Pieces of You by @pedros-mustache

Maybe it’s wrong. Maybe it’s possessive and a tad bit jealous. Maybe after years working alongside Tess, you’ve simply learned to lay your claim on what is yours.

— Press the Gas and Ride by @charnelhouse

comfort in a car

— Roadside Delight by @/inklore

joel should have known you’d be trouble when he found you on the side of the highway. he should have known you’d taste so fucking sweet too.

— See You by @hopeamarsu

— Seeing You, Seeing Me by @amywritesthings

After handling a life-or-death favor for Tess, you're in deep shit. Until she can make things right, she suggests you lay low at her place for the week. The issue? It's also Joel Miller's place, and you're pretty sure he hates you.

— Silence by @/frannyzooey

Joel makes a silent promise.

— So, My Darlin' by @/psychedelic-ink

you convince joel to have a bubble bath with you.

— Sober by @/sweetercalypso

When Joel needs a break from reality, he finds the perfect distraction in a QZ dive bar

— Something Bad by @/fettuccin-e

— Something Wild and Unruly by @/ezrasbrdie

At Madame Aurelie's Secret Garden, men pay for beautiful courtesans trained in pleasure to give them whatever they want. And all Joel Miller, infamous outlaw and gunslinger, ever seems to want from you is a warm bath and quiet conversation.

— Standing in the Eye of the Storm by @/stargirlfics

You find each other at the end of the world

— Stay In Bed by @/psychedelic-ink

After your grandfather’s passing, you find yourself moving into his home in Texas. You meet the Millers; Tommy, his older brother Joel and his daughter Sarah. With time, you and Tommy become close friends and Sarah visits you often. But Joel…Joel keeps his distance. The reason for this is due to one crucial fact you don’t know but he does; Tommy has a crush on you. Which means you’re off limits no matter what. But as your own feelings for Joel grow, things start to get more and more complicated.

— Sweet Thing by @mandoisapunk

the most unlikely pair in jackson just can’t get enough of each other.

— Sweet Words of Sin by @/moonlight-prose

“there was a certain high that came from this. having a man like joel miller relenting to your every word, all to hear those sweet words fall from your lips. as delicious as a glass of wine and just as sinful.”

— Sweetned Breath and Tongue So Mean by @/moonlight-prose

“joel couldn’t fathom what you saw in him. a man bloodied with the ravages of life. he’d taken life, killed to survive, and there were times he even fucking enjoyed it. but you were soft. you were the good that remained. the light he shouldn’t be allowed to tarnish.”

— Take Care of You by @theidiotwhowritesthings

You spent your entire adult life supporting yourself and barely getting by. It’s why a life of ease offered to you by a mysterious stranger sounded so foreign and unbelievable. Joel Miller, dressed in flannels that had seen better days, didn’t look like the kind who could promise you the world on a plate, but he seemed desperate to help out. All he asks is that you let him take care of you. That wouldn’t be so hard. Would it?

— Take Your Medicine by @/hier--soir

your medication makes it difficult to orgasm so joel (and your vibrator) help make it happen.

— Tarnished But So Grand by @morning-star-joy

tommy and maria lead a jovial existence in the countryside, but the appearance of tommy’s brother causes a stir in society with the dark rumors swirling around his reputation, some due to his standoffish demeanor and some due to the mysterious parentage of his rambunctious young ward miss williams

— The Checklist by @thetriumphantpanda

Your new boyfriend Joel finds your hidden stash of porn, full of pages with their corners folded over, marking the things you like the most. Expecting him to feel bad about finding things you’re into, things you haven’t asked for from him, you’re surprised when he offers to help you tick them off.

— The Dog of War by @/bits-and-babs

When Ellie is taken by David, Joel breaks open the part of him locked away since his hunter days. As the guilt eats him alive, you try to help him subdue the black dogs of mental warfare.

— The Revenant Wife by @pettyprocrastination

Ellie knows very little of Joel and even less of the wife he had before the outbreak. When she finally meets you, its just as much as shock to her as it is to your husband.

— The Way We Fight by @/cupofjoel

you and joel love taking your frustrations out on each other—in more ways than one

— Toyin’ With Them Older Guys by @proxima-writes

Joel Miller is the grumpy bartender and owner of your favorite bar near campus, where you attend trivia every Tuesday night. Thinking there’s no way Joel could return your feelings, your friend suggests trying out Tinder. / But when you bring them to the bar for a date, they keep leaving mid date with no explanation. / Maybe there’s something Joel isn’t telling you after all.

— Trust Fall by @/tinycozycomforts

This, that was a shy thing at first, set into motion by some passing remark you’d made all those months ago—that he would do anything for you if you just asked nice enough.

— Two by @/the-scandalorian

— Watch Party by @/sweetercalypso

renting a Halloween movie turns into a nightmare when poltergeist!Joel Miller crawls out of your TV

— Way Too Damn Needy by @/cupofjoel

— What I Want by @/proxima-writes

joel comes home from a rough day of patrol and you know just what he needs.

— When You're Reading Me by @/psychedelic-ink

If you had to make a list of things Joel Miller might buy you as a gift— nipple clamps, would not be a part of it.

— Wicked Games by @inklore

relationships are built on trust. favors, kindness, and hands meant to help, not maim. there’s no room for dishonesty, games, or ploys. that’s not the storybook way of things or how life should be. but maybe those rules only mattered when you weren’t living in a world that’s gone to shit | joel miller x smuggler!reader

— Wish You Were Here by @macfrog

you and joel skip jackson’s annual holiday party in favor of some alone time. (not that kind you filthy animals it’s the HOLIDAYS)

— Woods by @/frannyzooey

— You Know I Don’t Mean It by @joelscruff

you and joel get off together. that’s pretty much it. you also have some unresolved feelings for him and he’s being closed off.

— You Take My Self Control by @/cupofjoel

your first act of brutality leaves you reeling, but you’d do it all over again if it meant saving joel’s life. in the aftermath, you realize you’ve started to crave that violence and it terrifies you. joel steps in to satisfy your craving.

— Your Summer Dream by @/swiftispunk

fresh on the heels of the worst breakup of your life, you find an unexpected kindred spirit in joel miller, who's agreed to tag along for seven days to a tropical resort with you and your parents.

if you haven’t read these, you need to! and please support these amazing fics & writers by reading, reblogging & commenting! 💕

#joel miller x reader #fan fic recs #fic recs #2023 fave fics #please support these creators!

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604to647 · 4 months

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Fics that Live in My Mind, Rent Free (Pedro's Version) - Part 2

Welp! It seems there are link and tag limits? Who knew? Not this newb 😂😂 When I said that I've read so many good fanfics, I really meant it. Again, below the cut is a continuation of the list of some of my fave Pedro character fanfics that I've read on this site - ones I think about and revisit often. These are all fics I should have/would have reblogged if only I wasn't so weirdly nervous about it; in 2024 we will muster up some courage and reblog (it will be slow, probably, but I promise I will be trying!). This is a good time for me to also say that one of the reasons I am motivated to step out of my comfort zone on this is because of the genuine joy every comment/reblog/like has brought me this year as a new writer - thank you all from the bottom of my heart for the kind reception on anything I have ever posted. 🥹 ilysm 😘

Anyways, we press forward (Part 1 of Rent Free PPCU fics can be found here):

Din Djarin (The Mandalorian, GOAT)

Of Shadows and Roses by @the-scandalorian (Bodyguard!Din x Royalty!Reader)

All Mine by @mellowswriting (Possessive!Din after Reader uses herself as bait)

Narcissus by @bits-and-babs (Armour/mirror sex)

Looking out for you by @beskarandblasters (Jealous!Din after Reader uses herself as bait)

Cherry Liqueur by @decembermidnight (Reader teases Mando in public)

Breaking in the New House by @beskarandblasters (I love Husband!Din and Wife!Reader fics)

Javier Pena (Narcos)

Sweet Dreams by @javiscigarette (Javi can't sleep)

Phone Sex...amiright? by @tightjeansjavi (Reader calls Javi at work)

Sharing is Caring by @ezrasversion (Corrupt DEA Agent!Javi, Mafia AU!Joel Miller, Reader Threesome)

The Saint, the Sinner, and the Devil by @joelsgirl (Corrupt DEA Agent!Javi, DBF Mafia AU!Joel Miller, Reader Threesome)

MIA by @itsharleystuff (Jealous!Javi with Undercover!Reader)

Surprising Javi P with a Lingerie Set by @swiftispunk

Not here...not now by @gracieispunk (Reader visits Javi at work)

Bunny by @whatsnewalycat (Sex Phone Operator!Reader; Part 2 is great too!)

Ease by @javiscigarette (Javi takes care of Reader after a bad day)

Joel Miller (TLOU)

Say It Right, Peeping Neighbour, and Right Place, Right Time by @chaotic-mystery (All the DBF and BFD fics are amazing; these are my fave)

Quickie by @joelscruff (This falls in the middle of the Boyfriend's Dad series, but it's the first one I read and I was hooked!)

That Funny Feeling by @bluebeary-jay (Joel loves pet names 🥹)

I've Got Lust on My Tongue by @itgetsdark-x (Bratty reader a la Maddy Perez)

The Babysitter, Part 1 by @proxima-writes (There's a Part 2 as well!)

Under the Table by @toxicanonymity (A lot of good Joelkemons, but Speakeasy is a classic and maybe my fave?)

Online Friends, Sticking it to the PTA, and Caught Sunbathing by @walkintotheriveranddisappear (All of Emma's Joel fics are really hot [honestly you can't go wrong], but these are my faves)

Late Night Smoke by @bettercallwillow (Dbf smoking. sigh)

Calling Joel Daddy by @inkedells (I honestly love it when authors bold the dirty talk 🤭)

Gimme What I Want and In the Next Room by @atticrissfinch (The masterlist is some of the hottest Joel fic, if I may say so; these are my faves)

An Open Window by @velvetmud (Joel being a peeping tom; I also always hope for a sequel to this one!)

Crave by @toxic-seduction (Part 2; Reader finds Joel in the QZ)

Good Luck Charm by @javiscigarette (Joel watches the football game)

Ravish by @psychedelic-ink (Webcam Model!Reader; Part 2 is also incredible!)

I Know it When I see It by @bageldaddy (Pornstars!Joel and Readers. This series has me and everyone else, I think, in a chokehold. Reading, as well, the writer's thoughts and feelings about the porn industry and the care put into the characters is such a joy and makes the fic that much more rich)

Chaser series by @livingemkayde (Nanny!Reader and a love triangle; not finished but so good I'm happy to wait forever)

Right my Wrongs by @chloeangelic (Father in Law!Joel)

In A Feud with Her Neighbour by @proxima-writes (Read this delicious fic and the bonus scenes will be the icing on top)

Kiss and Tell by @toxic-seduction (Stepdad!Joel and mom goes away for the weekend)

Peaches and Cream by @javiscigarette (Joel buys reader peaches)

Didn't Cha Know by @chloeangelic (The Joel Reader has been pining for is her boyfriend's brother)

Gif to breakup the text block:

Camgirl by @phuckinphia (Another Camgirl but this time she's Sarah's friend 🫣)

The Right Wrong Number by @proxima-writes (Sarah's soccer coach!Reader)

Nightmares by @fruispunk (QZ!Reader has nightmares that Joel hears and mistakens for something else)

Damage Done by @bluebeary-jay (Joel accidentally triggers Reader; mind the tags. Heavy angst, heavy topic that is beautifully written)

Yes, Mr. Miller by pedropascallme (Babysitter!Reader, Part 2 Thank You, Mr. Miller is also excellent)

How Long series by @gracieheartspedro (Link is to Part 1; series is complete and wonderfully hot and emotional. Reader's boyfriend Tommy is a cheat😢)

Francisco "Catfish" Morales (Triple Frontier)

Fictional Death by @psychedelic-ink (Frankie comforts Reader)

Well Fed by @the-ginger-hedge-witch (Frankie is HAPPY 🥹)

Forest Ranger AU by @the-ginger-hedge-witch (I'm not an outdoorsy person but this AU makes me wish I was)

It's Always the Quiet Ones by @thot-of-khonshu (Frankie surprises Reader)

Pero Tovar (The Great Wall)

Kinktober 2022 - Breeding by @moralesispunk (Guard!Pero and Royalty!Reader)

Bodily Exchange by @absurdthirst (Mafia AU!Pero and daughter of mafia boss Reader)

Damnation or Salvation by @absurdthirst (Pero is sent to retrieve Reader)

Dying Wish by @absurdthirst (Pero makes Reader's father a promise; okay at this point, just all of Keri's Pero fics 🤭)

Marcus Moreno (We Can Be Heroes)

Beat Poetry on Amphetamines by @psychedelic-ink (Marcus comes home hurt)

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morallyinept · 1 month

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A list of all my favourite JOEL MILLER Fic Recs, with the writers tagged. Includes fics I am currently reading/want to read.

PART 20

Please show some love to the writers by re-blogging and commenting on their work. 🖤

⚠️ Please ensure you check the triggers/warnings etc... on the stories themselves as some of them may not be suitable to your own particular tastes.

Egg Hunt - @covetyou

Comfort(ers) & Sheets - @stargirl-in-dilfspace

Joel Miller Blurb - @ghotifishreads

Voicemail - @fuckyeahdindjarin

Cherry Thrill - Lights - @hellishjoel Daddy Dom Tattoo Artist Joel

You Wanted This Series - @alwaysmicado

7AM - @milla-frenchy

Am I Too Late To Love You? - @orcasoul

Busted - @toxicanonymity

Collegiate - @pimosworld

Run Rabbit - @mermaidgirl30 Dom!Joel

Take Me To Wonderland - @mermaidgirl30

Toy Story - @sweetenerobert ActionFigure!Joel M!Reader

Let Me Lay Down Beside You - @jomiddlemarch

All The Fear and The Fire of The End of The World & The Artist & The Builder - @criticallyacclaimedstranger Artist!Reader

Breath By Breath & Knuckles Deep - @ozarkthedog

The Sailor's Knot - @umnitsa

For Better Or Worse Series - @atinylittlepain No Outbreak!Joel

Taurus - @magpiepills

Thirst For Beauty - @psychedelic-ink PlusSize!Reader Flower Shop AU

Fourth Of July - @nesillia DBF!Joel

Starin' Problem - @strawhbrrries DBF!Joel

Abstaining Game - @gutsby DBF!Joel

Snowbound - @joeloverture DBF!Joel

Seasons Of You Series - @kedsandtubesocks Featuring Frankie Morales

Golden Walkway - @whocaresstillthelouvre Jackson Joel

Free Use, Full Plate - @joelmillerisapunk

Morning Sun - @lunitawrites

Bathing In Love - @softstarlite

Chevelle - @strang3lov3 Neighbour!Joel

Kiss, Kiss, Bang, Bang Series - @aurorawritestoescape No Outbreak!Joel

The Feel Of Coldness Only Water Brings - @tightjeansjavi

March Spring Prompts - Daydream - @nerdieforpedro

Safe & Sound Series - @janaispunk

Hands On Your Knees - @northernbluess

After - @milla-frenchy

Mejor Sin Ti & Mientes - @fhatbhabie Featuring Javier Peña PlusSize!Reader

Won't You Suffer For The Angels To Fly? - @freelancearsonist

The Falling - @getitoutofmymindwrites

Kisses Down Low - @pimosworld

Joel Interrupting You Drabble - @kiwisbell

Moonlight Sonata - @studioghibelli

Scars - @romanarose

Some Nights - @pedroacrossthestreet

Honey, I Won't Be Home - @trulybetty

He Sees You - @maggiemayhemnj

Adoration - @morallyinept Breast Cancer/Mastectomy Reader

#pedro pascal x reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #joel miller tlou #jett's fic recs

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skbeaumont · 17 days

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Texas Heat | A Joel x Reader Series

Summary: You've just finished a Masters back home in England, and, with little idea of what you want to do next, decide to spend the summer in Texas, staying with your mum's cousins, the Adlers. What you didn't bank on was living next door to Joel. The two of you strike up a friendship, and then something more, as the Texan summer heats up.

Tags/warnings: slow burn, eventual smut, age difference (reader is 25, Joel is 37), AU! no outbreak, porn with plot.

Chapter 1 You've just finished a Masters back home in England, and, with little idea of what you want to do next, decide to spend the summer in Texas, staying with your mum's cousins, the Adlers. But its not the Adlers who pick you up from the airport: it's their handsome neighbour, Joel.

Chapter 2 Your first tutoring session with Sarah goes as expected, until Joel gets home and sends your head spinning.

Chapter 3 You get a job at a coffee shop. It just happens to be across the street from where Joel's working a construction job.

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

#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

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jksprincess10 · 1 year

Note

Hey! I love your writings! Especially your neighbour story’s! I saw you take requests… So I have an idea. What about no-outbreak neighbour x reader. Where the reader has a dad who doesn’t care about his daughter, never was there physically. So the reader basically spend her childhood mostly at Joel’s house. He taking care of her, being supportive and all. So, as she grew older and goes to the college the atmosphere maybe changes. Like lingering touches or glances. But he always holds himself back. She works maybe as a waitress besides college to safe some money. My thought was that on his 36 birthday she throws him a big surprise party, and bought with her saved money his biggest wish. Like a new car or something. Something he always dreamed of. To thank him for basically raising her? On the party some dude flirts heavily with the reader. And Joel finally has enough of hiding, with following smut and cuteness maybe? That would be amazing. I hope it’s understandable and not to much. Take care of yourself and have a great day/night! 😊

Hii ! Thank you for your request. I wrote something inspired by it but had to change some details for realism. I also made y/n more like Sarah's best friend so it didn't feel like grooming. Hope you still like it.

Daddy issues

CW: Age difference, power imbalance, daddy issues, alcohol, oral and fingering (f receiving), jealous ! Joel, BFD ! Joel, no outbreak AU.

When you moved to Texas for your dad’s work at 12 years old, you met the Miller family which included Joel Miller, a single dad in his 30s, and his daughter, Sarah. You immediately became friends with her, and she helped you survive your new school.

Your dad was never really there, especially since your mom had abandoned your family for another man. It became even worse when you moved to Texas. He was away for days, but you were used to it. You could function like a little adult, cooking, doing laundry and cleaning. You didn’t really have a childhood.

Mr. Miller saw how often you were left alone. He didn’t say anything, didn’t ask questions, but did offer you to stay over a lot. You offered to help him cook in exchange, as he was always working late hours. He was a sweet man, who took care of his daughter and of you. Your relationship with Joel was also distant, he didn’t really know how to socialize with teenage girls like his daughter, but he was caring.

Over the years, your relationship with your dad stayed tense, and distant. But college gave you some freedom, you were legally an adult, you had a job as a waitress at a 24/7 diner. You worked insane hours to move out eventually, and also, to repay your debt to Mr. Miller. Your relationship with him had evolved over the years. With you in your 20s, and him at his 45th birthday coming up, you had developed a… crush on your best friend’s dad.

It was stupid, yes, and your daddy issues probably had something to do with it. But when he started seeing you as an adult and you started seeing him as a man, you felt some stares, lingering touches sometimes as you helped him cook diner for Sarah. You would flirt discreetly sometimes, hoping he’d notice.

Honestly, it was probably inappropriate, and you tried to push your crush away, not wanting to get him in trouble like he had groomed you. When, in contrary, he saved you and was always respectful. Sarah, of course, never knew. You had a few boyfriends and him, a few girlfriends. He was protective of you, so you never let him meet your partners.

Joel’s 45th birthday would be special. You and Sarah organized a big surprise party at your house (because your dad was gone, of course). You had spent months putting money aside to buy him a new acoustic guitar (his old one got broken by an ex… long story), and you were excited to finally give him his gift.

After your morning shift, you met Sarah at your house and finished decorating. The cake was safely stored in the fridge stocked with a lot of alcohol. You only had to wait for people to get here and for Joel to come back from work.

“I’m nervous.” said Sarah as she was hanging banners on the stairs.

“Because Joel hates surprises?” You guessed while you took care of the other side of the banner.

“Yeah… but he never does anything for himself.”

“I know. He’ll be happy.” You reassured her.

Family, friends and colleagues were waiting anxiously in the darkness of your home while you and Sarah welcomed Joel at his own place. You covered his eyes with a piece of fabric and you both guided him outside of the house. Your hand was latching onto the strong muscle of his bicep, which sent shivers through his body.

“I swear to God, if you two organized something for my birthday…”

“Shush, you’ll love it, dad.” Said Sarah with a smile.

SURPRISE !

He rolled his eyes once his mask was off, but his smile betrayed the annoyance he was trying to portray.

You ate the cake in a corner of the kitchen. There were people everywhere in the house, it was getting a bit overwhelming for you. Joel checked in on you after he was done with all the attention he was getting.

“So who’s idea was it?” He asked.

You lifted your chin to look at him with a smile, your fork playing with the white icing.

“Like I’m gonna tell you.” You responded, before stuffing the icing in your mouth.

Joel coughed awkwardly and tapped his neck nervously. He tried to ignore the way your pretty eyes looked at him suggestively while you were eating the white cream. Your eyebrow shot up as you were looking innocently at him, but you didn’t make any comment. You simply pointed your fork towards him.

“You haven’t even tasted the cake. Eat, so I can give you your gift.”

“You’re bossier than Sarah.”

“Learned from the best.”

Still, he leaned in, his mouth wrapping around the fork as he tasted the cake. You were totally staring.

“Fiinne, the cake’s good. I’ll get myself a piece. But I don’t want no gift, darlin’.”

The pet name made your chest flutter. It wasn’t the first time he called you darling, of course, but there was something more intimate in the air tonight. Like you would finally get more of him.

Joel left you, your cheeks red and your fork stuck mid-air.

“C’mon, open up.” You encouraged him.

Everyone was looking at him, and he hated it. But he wanted to make you smile, so he tore apart the wrapping paper that hid the big box.

“This big box and you probably gave me socks.”

“You’ll see.”

His mouth fell as he discovered the expensive acoustic guitar you had bought. For once, Joel was speechless.

“Darlin’, you shouldn’t have… You’re putting money aside for movin’ out…”

“I took more shifts. Turns out I can do both… And I really wanted to thank you properly. For always having me here when you know…. Dad…”

The word “dad” hurt. You didn’t like saying it. In your mind, you had no father figure. Joel imprisoned your body in the cage of his big arms, hugging you tight. You swore you had seen some tears in his eyes.

“I’ll always be here, darlin’.”

“I know.” You smiled and laid your head against his chest, as he kissed the top of your head.

With Sarah’s gift, a new watch, Joel was a spoiled man. The party really started after the gift exchange, everyone drank more, the older people left, and Joel tested his new guitar. Joel had lost his eternal flannel shirt somewhere and his greying curls had a mind of their own. You liked him like this, free.

You danced innocently to the beat of the 80s music that Joel liked and a few younger people joined you – cousins, colleagues’ kids you didn’t know. A tall guy, probably in his mid 20s, dark brown hair swiped to the side and green eyes, approached you. He was good-looking and seemed nice enough. You put your arms around his neck to bring him closer, your bodies following the same rhythm.

He asked for your name, said you were pretty. His name was Bryan. He was the son of one of Joel’s colleagues.

“What’re you doing after this?” He asked. You shrugged.

“No plans yet.”

Before he could ask for anything, you felt strong arms pulling you away.

“Darlin’ we need to get John’s coat upstairs, can ya help me find it?” Joel familiar accent resonated over the loud music.

“S-Sure!”

You shrugged to the stranger, and your eyes were apologizing for you.

Once in the room alone with Joel, you turned around with John’s coat in your hands.

“Don’t tell me you couldn’t find it; it was literally at the top.” You sighed.

The older man had closed the door and he seemed like he was trying to say something, but he was held back, his mouth not making any sound.

“I didn’t like seein’ ya with Bryan. Guy’s a womanizer.” He finally said.

You frowned and crossed your arms.

“Joel, I can figure that out by myself. I’m an adult. Tell me what’s really going on.”

He got closer, his height towering over you. You looked up at him, trying to see what was going on behind those pretty chocolate eyes. His hand held the side of your face, and you felt your heart jump out of your chest.

“Can we… talk about what’s goin’ out with us?”

“Joel, you’re drunk.”

“M’not, darlin’. I’m really sober. I noticed the way you were starin’ earlier and… every day, really. Since you became a woman.”

You turned your head away.

“Fuck, I know it’s wrong.” You whispered, like the words scared you. “But I like you a lot.”

It was a confirmation for him, enough for him to take the scary jump and kiss you. You yelped, then grabbed his neck to bring his body closer to yours, tasting the hints of sweetness of the cake and the bitterness of the beer on his tongue.

“I want more, just this once. Then we don’t have to talk about it again…”

“Okay.” You simply said, breathless.

The pile of coats fell to the floor as your tangled bodies met the softness of your mattress. Joel was towering over you, his broad frame becoming your whole view. Your hands explored his biceps, as he was looking at you intensely. He tried to determine his next move.

“Can I take this off?” He asked as he pulled on the hem of your dress.

You nodded enthusiastically and helped him pull the clothing over your head. You were wearing a dusty pink laced matching set under it. It was like you intended to take someone home after this. You saw hints of jealousy in Joel’s dark eyes. You caressed his cheek and he softened under your touch.

“You intended to go home with someone tonight, darlin’? Naughty girl.”

You blushed profusely. “Let’s not talk about it…”

To focus his attention elsewhere, you helped him take off his t-shirt. You ran your fingers over his skin, exploring parts of him you had never seen before. You mostly did it to hide the shaking of your hands.

“M’gonna take good care of you, don’t worry.” He pressed a chaste kiss to your lips.

His large hand trailed down your body and caressed your wetness through your laced panties, ruining the thin fabric. You whimpered softly and grabbed onto him.

“So fuckin’ wet.”

He discarded your underwear and took in the view of your perfect cunt. His digits explored your wet folds, feeling his way to your pleasure. You squirmed a bit.

“We have to be fast, Joel, they’ll see we’re missing…”

The older man sighed. He wanted to take his time with you, but he couldn’t be greedy. He agreed and opted on plunging his head between your thighs to prepare you faster. He licked through your folds, rapidly finding your sensitive bundle of nerves. You fisted the blankets as you moaned, still trying to keep it quiet so the whole party downstairs didn’t hear you.

“I know, I know… you have to be quiet for me, baby girl.”

He held his palm over your mouth, and you nodded obediently. He kept licking at your bud enthusiastically, finding a rhythm that you enjoyed. Your thighs almost closed together, but Joel kept them apart with his free hand.

Then, he sneaked in one finger, stretching you slowly. Everything about him was big, but you tried to relax.

“Y’okay?”

You nodded.

He added another finger, as he sucked on your clit to make you think about something else than the pain. You let out a small “Fuck” under the cover of his palm. While he took care of you, you played with your breasts to get more stimulation. All the sensations drove you slowly to the edge. You had your orgasm silently, but your whole body was shaking, your back arched up. He helped you through your pleasure, before leaving your wetness. Joel put his arms around you to cuddle you as you were coming down your high.

“Don’t think I’ll be able to live without this.” You finally said as you came down from your high.

Joel smiled proudly and pressed his mouth against yours in a slow, sensual kiss.

He stopped when the door of your bedroom opened, letting in some light and noise. You hid yourself quickly with the blankets and panicked as you saw Sarah standing in the doorframe.

#bfd ! joel miller #bfd ! joel #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x yn #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fanfiction #writing requests

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thelastofhyde · 5 months

Text

prologue. rome.

pairing. tourguide!joel miller x fem!reader. series synopsis. on the brink of undergoing a life-altering change, you runaway from your problems in the only way any sane person can: embarking on a mediterranean cruise. there you meet joel miller, a grumpy, private tour-guide, who just so happens to be tasked with touring you through each stop on your cruise. from greek goddesses to roman ruins, you have ten days to avoid your fate. maybe a frowning, southern, sex-on-legs of a man is just what the doctor ordered. chapter summary. like all epic love stories, this one starts with a meet-(un)cute. series warnings. no use of y/n, set in 2015, cruise!au, rom-com, enemies-ish to lovers, sunshine!reader, tour-guide!joel, age gap, depictions/discussions of grief, angst, fluff, a whole load of smut, a lot of cheesy stereotypical romance tropes bc i just wanna see joel not suffer ( too much ) <3 chapter warnings. i’m pretty sure there’s no warnings this chapter. word count. 845. hyde’s input. & so it begins! my goal is to try post a chapter every other friday, but it may be weekly if i write + edit on time. likes and reblogs are appreciated <3 next chapter - series masterlist

Under the buzz of a dying light, you assess the damage.

Tousled hair, smudged mascara, bags under your eyes. Chapped lips, wrinkled clothing, a missing earring. Nail indentations, dry hands, a bruise on your knee.

You'd call yourself a mess, had you not been travelling at full-speed in the air, trapped inside an overgrown Pringles can that grew wings, for the past who-knows-how-many hours.

With a snoring seat-neighbour, a kid kicking at the back of you and the embarrassing sting of tears in your eyes, you'd not known peace until the plane had landed on solid ground. And, even then, the nightmare had picked right back up where it had left off, shapeshifting into a mile long customs queue and the overwhelming dread of watching the conveyor belt spin round and round with not a single sign of your suitcase.

It took a whole hour and speaking to an airport staff member later for them to find your case, right down the other end of the arrivals hall, sitting amongst luggage from a destination you'd certainly not arrived from.

But none of that matters, not now. At least you tell yourself that as you splash some cold water on your face. Looking back in the mirror, you try out a smile. It doesn't look genuine, but it's been a little harder to do recently, and so you give yourself credit for managing to at least have it meet your eyes.

There's a series of disgruntled, irritated faces that greet you as you exit the bathroom. You walk past them, head down, trying to count the beat in your footsteps and feel the roll of your suitcase's wheels.

Finding the signs that point to the arrival gate, you keep a low profile, as if anyone would know you here. Why would anybody know you here? Still, the need to stay hidden, out of sight, it intensifies, even as you take in the welcoming sign above sliding doors.

Buongiorno, benvenuto in Italia!

An overwhelming wave of loneliness hits you as you take your first step past the sliding doors, the usual hustle and bustle of an arrival's lounge greeting you. Couples embracing in reunion, families excitedly catching up on all that they've missed, strangers meeting for the first time, men in suits holding up signs with names and-

A different kind of wave hits you, physically, and suddenly you're on all fours, the sound of your knees smacking harshly into the marble floor taunting you with yet another bruise that'll be making a cameo in every picture you’ll take.

The world continues to pass you by, even as you juggle turmoil and pain. It’s a feat you’re trying to grow used to, but, for now, all you can manage is to not feel your stomach knot. You straighten your back, hands off the floor and your weight resting back against your knees. Pull a deep breath in, ignoring the tremble in your lower lip. In a moment of pure desperation, you wonder what more awaits you on this holiday from hell.

An awful flight, a lost-luggage scare, several bruises and now a public humiliation. What’s next?

You’re plucked up from where you sit, strong hands taking a gentle grip of your forearm. A simple tug and you obey the stranger’s signal, shifting to stand up straight. Turning on your heel to face your rescuer, you’re met with the back of a head, dark locks adorning it as the man reaches back down to grasp at your suitcase’s handle.

The man’s face is revealed slowly, undeliberately, as he rises to level once more, steadying your case back onto its wheels. Handsome, you notice the etching of laugh lines around his eyes and the peppering of patchy, yet fitting, facial hair along his jaw. A pair of headphones, big and chunky and sporting a wire, rest on the back of his neck and the strap of a backpack rests over his right shoulder.

You notice you’re staring a little too late, when there’s already a frown line splitting the skin of his forehead. Clear your throat, take back control of your suitcase and your senses.

Raised with manners, you rather clumsily thrust out your hand for the man to shake. “Thank you for your help, I appreciate it. So much. I'm-"

"You're in the way."

There’s no time to respond, not properly, as the man side-steps you with a grunt, his shoulder catching yours as he passes by. He doesn’t stop to apologise, simply readjusting the sliding strap of his bag and continuing his stride out into the sea of awaiting people.

Involuntarily, frozen where you stand, your eyes follow him as he comes to a stop in front of a uniformed man, a printed sign in his hand.

Signore Miller.

As you scan the crowd for your own name, spotting a casually dressed older gentleman carrying it upon scribbled cardboard, you repeat that name, over and over.

Miller, Miller, Miller.

Whoever the rude man may be, you pray for all those who cross his path on his trip.

#joel miller smut #joel miller series #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfic #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x reader

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fuckyeahdindjarin · 1 year

Note

hihi! congrats on such a cool milestone 💗 i am so excited to see what you’re going achieve in the future!

i would love to read this prompt with neighbor joel x reader, pre outbreak or post outbreak, that’s your choice :)

“Person A keeps ending up in Person B’s bed. It’s just a matter of time until “drunken mistake” is no longer a believable excuse.”

p.s. i ADORE seams it’s soooo good and i can’t wait to read more of it !! 💕 tysm

Hi lovely! Thank you so much for your sweet message and this prompt! So I don't know why, but the moment I read the prompt, I just knew I had to make this a college AU. This reads very differently from Seams, which I hope is something you'll enjoy!

Joel Miller x college neighbour AU

Fuck Yeah 2222 Sleepover micro drabble request | 1285 words (sorry) | warnings: mentions of alcohol consumption, jealousy, possessiveness, one bed

The first time it happens, it is a drunken mistake.

All these dorm rooms look the same, especially at four in the morning after clearing out all the tequila at the college bar.

It does smell nicer, cleaner. And the bed is on the other side of the room. But Joel can't really tell left from right nor up from down, so he just drops face first onto the duvet - so soft - and falls fast asleep.

You, on the other hand, are absolutely mystified by the appearance of a man in your bed after your toilet run in the early hours.

You recognise him. He lives a few doors down, and you've seen him around in the college football team jersey, almost always with a cheerleader hanging off his arm.

You may or may not have seen him in the corridor with just a towel around his waist, hair slicked back, on his way back from the communal showers.

You may or may not have stared at those ridiculously broad shoulders from behind your books as you went down the other side of the hallway.

Unsure of what to do - you have an early class in a few hours - you reach out and poke him firmly on the arm. You keep poking, not entirely convinced by what you're trying to achieve, until a hand appears, thick fingers closing around your wrist, and pulls.

He rolls you under him with a smooth turn of his hips. You barely have the presence of mind to let out a timid squeak when stern brown eyes bore into yours in the darkness.

'What are you doin'?' he demands, his voice so gravelly that you almost feel the lumps and bumps on the back of your neck.

You don't exactly have a short fuse. Quite the opposite, in fact. But the accusation in his tone has you snapping back, 'What am I doing? What are you doing?'

Your outburst seems to catch his attention, and he watches you closely as he replies, 'Tryin' to catch a wink.'

Reaching over to the nightstand, you flick on the little bedside lamp. You arch an eyebrow as he glances around as realisation dawns on him. 'Does this look like your room?'

'Oops,' he deadpans, but he doesn't move off of you. Instead, his eyes drop lower, pausing over your oversized college tshirt, and lower still, where your sleep shorts have ridden high up your bare thighs -

His eyes snap up to yours when you clear your throat, and he stiffens above you, Adam's apple bobbing with a swallow. 'Sorry, darlin'.'

Then he's gone.

The second time it happens, it's another drunken mistake.

He knocks this time, loud enough to wake you, and you trip over your feet to get the door.

'What now?' you gripe sleepily when his face appears, eyes glassy and reeking of cheap beer.

'Lost my keys,' he explains, words slightly slurred, leaning heavily on the doorframe.

'So?'

'Can I sleep in your room tonight?'

You stare at him, dumfounded. 'Don't you have friends?'

'They're all the way across campus. It's freezin' outside.'

With a sigh, you move to the side and he squeezes in past you. Too tired to care, you burrow head first into the covers, shuffling so that you're right up against the wall to make room behind you on the single bed.

But he doesn't climb in.

'What are you doing?' you grumble, not bothering to turn around to see for yourself.

'Uh, I'm sleepin' on the floor.'

You roll your eyes and pat the mattress. 'Just get in. I don't want you freezing to death on my rug.'

So he does, and when you wake up the next morning, his arms are tight around you, legs tangled in yours.

The third time it happens, you're both drunk for a change.

His team won the college derby, and there's a huge celebration at the local club with the bill being footed by the sponsors. Even with the promise of a free night out, your friends still have to physically drag your ass to the party.

You spot him easily from across the dance floor, in the same jersey he wears often. He's surrounded by hoards of girls, all keen to nab the bragging rights of being the one to fuck the team hero tonight.

Something twists in your stomach, which you quiet with a tequila shot.

And another.

You end up on the dance floor, and you never dance. You're just drunk enough to feel good about yourself even in a room full of jocks and sorority sisters, and when one of the quarterbacks on the team twirls you into a dance, you laugh and let him.

One minute, he's spinning you around, and the next - you're pulled nose first into a much broader chest that smells faintly familiar.

It's slightly jarring seeing him out of the context of your bed. Does he always look this grumpy?

'Congrats on winning the game,' you shout over the music, attempting to make conversation.

He doesn't budge, standing like a stone wall in the middle of the dance floor under the strobe lights. Too drunk to catch the nuance in his glare, you shrug and turn on your heel, intending to find that quarterback that you lost mid-spin -

Only to be hauled back to Joel's side by one big hand.

'What are you doing?' you demand with a frown. 'I'm trying to find the guy I was dancing with.'

'You're not dancin' with him.'

You blink. 'Why not?'

'He's a fuckin' asshole.'

'So what?'

He narrows his eyes at you. 'What do you mean so what?'

You roll your eyes. 'Why do I care if he's an asshole? I'm looking for a dance, maybe a fuck, it's not like I'm marrying him.'

His nostrils flare, and you see his fists clenching at his sides. 'You're not fuckin' him.'

You scoff. 'Watch me, Miller.'

Spotting the blond on the edge of the dance floor, you march right up to him, grab him by the collar and kiss him square on the lips.

Pulling back, you turn to give Joel a smug look, only to find that he's no longer where he was. Miffed, you scan the crowds, and it doesn't take you long to find him.

It's one thing to see the cheerleaders flirting and hanging off his every word when you pass each other in the hallways. It's another thing entirely to see him make out with one, not five paces away.

Blindly, you stumble out of the club, not bothering to get your coat even though it's bitterly cold outside. Your heels clatter loudly on the concrete, you probably shouldn't be walking alone back to the dorms, but you need to get out of there.

You hear him call your name, but you keep walking, eyes trained stubbornly in front of you.

He catches up easily, and with a growl, he wheels you around with one palm on your elbow. You fight him, pounding on his chest with tightly clenched fists, and he lets you, wrapping you in his jacket while you do, until you tire yourself out.

When all the jealousy bleeds out of you, you sag in his arms, and he has to hold you up by the waist. His breath brushes your temple. 'Wanna go home?'

He's warm, solid, when he slips into your bed behind you, one knee nudging between your thighs, fingers tangling in yours when he slings one arm over your waist.

You might both be drunk - but this is not a mistake.

#fuckyeah2222sleepover #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller oneshot #joel miller college AU #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader

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kiwisbell · 8 months

Text

Whiskey Sour

chapter seven [epilogue]: ancient mariner

Reuniting with your estranged father while you finish college in Austin has unintended consequences. His best friend, for one.

series masterlist

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

rating: 18+ (mdni)

series tags and warnings: dbf!joel being extremely criminally attractive, big ol' age gap (40s/early 20s), unprotected piv (do not follow the leader), creampie, multiple sex positions, multiple orgasms, oral sex (m and f receiving), dry humping, spitting, biting, joel miller is a MUNCH, very appropriate use of a showerhead, consensual somnophilia, yoga, heavy emphasis on payphones, daddy issues, family reunions, angst, dead mom, grief and mourning, father/daughter relationship, bartending, reader is a woman in STEM (author is not), being a student in university deserves a warning probably, attempted drugging (roofies), college boys suck, possessive sex, possessive joel, protective joel, obligatory warning for joel's salt-and-pepper hair, masturbation, wet dreams, no outbreak AU, hurt/comfort, healing, no sarah or ellie, stargazing, face-sitting, pining/yearning, happy ending

word count: ~ 11k (oops)

a/n: thank you for being here besties. here's a little epilogue/slice-of-life bonus chapter. i love you so much and i hope you've enjoyed this fic. whiskey sour will forever hold a special place in my heart and i had the best time ever writing it xx

chapter 7 [epilogue]: ancient mariner

Loving.

You take Joel to visit your new apartment.

It's small and quaint and so you. Pictures of you, your father, and your friends are tacked to a cork board. Decorative pillows and blankets are strewn about your love seat and plush chairs. Your kitchen is just big enough to fit you, light woods and natural light and your favourite colours. The floor-to-ceiling windows on the north wall give you a good view of the university a few blocks away. You're on the twelfth floor.

“What if there’s a fire?” says Joel, inspecting the locks on your door. They seem sturdy. The walls are a pleasant white, the floor clean. There's no mould or mildew. Everything looks perfectly safe.

“If there's a fire, I’ll take the stairs.”

“If the stairs are on fire?”

You give him a look. “I’ll yell down to the firefighters to set up a mattress on the ground, and hope for the best.”

“And your neighbours?” he says, breezing past your smartass little comment. “They good people?”

“I haven't gotten the chance to introduce myself yet.” You shrug your shoulders, watering a snake plant that hangs down from your curtain rod. “I’ll bring them some cookies next time I bake. I’m sure they're lovely.”

“You can't know that,” he points out.

You hum dismissively, and Joel catches a wicked smile on your face. “No, but if I want to bring a guy home, I don't need to sneak him past any housemates.”

Joel walks right up to you where you stand by the windows and snakes his arm around your waist. “Wanna keep bein’ funny,” he says, “or are you gonna finally let me kiss you again?”

“That depends.” You smile up at him, placing your hands on his chest. “Will you help me put together my dresser?”

Joel grins, tilting your chin up and kissing you softly. You smile against his mouth, winding your arms around his neck. He guides you to the window and presses your back against it, your body curving up against him. “My girl,” he murmurs, his lips at the corner of your mouth, your cheek, your jaw. “I’ll give you anything you want.”

“Kiss me again and I’ll believe you.”

He does. Decadently.

Hands on your waist, fingers slipping beneath the hem of your sweater, teasing your soft skin. His tongue parting your lips, tasting bitter morning coffee and mint. His mouth and yours. The smell of his cologne.

When you pull away, you litter kisses from his nose to his forehead down to his scruffy beard. “Do you want dinner?” you ask him softly.

His eyes light up, and he looks down at you like a hopeful puppy. “You want me to stay?”

You squeeze his strong biceps. “I need to put you to work, and there is no way I’m letting you leave my sight tonight.”

Joel answers by crushing his mouth to yours, feverish, his rough hands exploring the soft skin of your hips beneath the fabric of your sweater. You’re wearing a pair of soft lounge shorts, and he can feel the pretty lace of your panties just under the waistband. Jesus, he's going crazy. You smell like perfume and you feel so good. This is where he belongs.

When he pulls away, he rests his forehead to yours. “If I ever fuck up like that again,” he says, “kick me in the balls.”

“Okay.”

“I mean it.”

“I know you mean it.” You shake your head at him. “Nobody’s gonna hurt me. Especially not you.” You lace your fingers through his and bring your joined hands to your heart. “You came back to me.”

And it is never enough. But your heart beats strong and steadfast under his palm, and he knows you believe it. “You know I can be a real idiot sometimes,” he says.

“Yes,” you reply, your fingers tracing the lines on the back of his hand. Marks of age and scars and sunlight.

“My foot’s in my mouth all the time.”

“Mmm.” You bring his hand to your mouth and press soft kisses to his rough knuckles.

“I’m too old for you.”

Your lips find the pads of his fingers. “You’re just right,” you whisper, playfully nipping at the tip of his index finger. “Everything about you is so right, Joel Miller. Like Goldilocks. But… grey.”

Joel steps forward and presses his body against yours. This time, it’s your hand he takes, putting it to his chest. Your fingers slip greedily under his shirt to find the warm skin that lies beneath. “Feel that?” he says gruffly. “Feel how fuckin’ fast my heart’s beating?”

You bite your lip when you smile. “For me?”

“It’s only ever for you, baby.” His hand is a solid weight at the back of your neck, his thumb stroking your jaw. “Makin’ me feel like a goddamn kid with a crush on the pretty girl.”

“You could have all the pretty girls you want,” you tell him, your hand dipping to his belly. “You’re so handsome. So strong. And so good to me.”

Goddamn, he likes it when you say things like that. His ego gets a big fucking kick out of it, and his cock certainly hangs on every syllable of your praise. He hasn’t been good to you, not always—not the way you deserve—but he’s here for a reason. He’s here, in your shiny new apartment, to prove that he can be the one you want to put your faith in.

“Don’t want any girl but you.”

“Good.” You’re so close, the shapes in your irises so mesmerising, and he needs to kiss you again. “Because I’m all yours.”

Fuck, if that doesn’t shred the last of his self-control through a pinhole. Joel winds his arm around your waist and walks both of you toward your bedroom, his mouth attacking yours with no more ceremony than a fucking animal in heat. He cannot stop touching you. It’s all he knows. It consumes him, devours him whole. His hands on your body, vaguely discomforted with the layers of clothing between him and your nudity even as his brain goes fuzzy and forgets all sensation except for you.

His mouth is on your throat as you both stagger until your back is against your bedroom wall. “Put me to work, baby,” he says into your skin, kissing his way down your neck. “Let me undress you.”

“So no dinner, then,” you laugh, a little breathless as he sucks a dark spot into the curve of your neck.

“I’ll skip to dessert.”

You giggle when his nose tickles the spot below your ear. “Cornball.”

“Let me,” he pleads, pulling back to look into your eyes. His pupils are wide and they gleam with something close to mischief. You nod your head.

Joel takes his time undressing you. Your sweater goes first, tousling your hair as he brings it up over your head. His lips attach to your collarbones, your sternum, his fingers slipping around your back to the clasp of your bra. He unclips it with one hand and slides the straps down your shoulders. “So beautiful,” he whispers, gripping your hips a bit tighter when he says it, his voice taking on a bit of a growl. “Lie on the bed for me.”

You back toward the bed on shaky legs and sit down on the edge, watching him fit himself between your open legs. “I said lie down, baby. Not sit down.”

You push your tits out, just begging for him to touch. “What if I want you to make me?”

Oh.

Joel’s fingers tease the shape of your hard nipples, your lashes fluttering as he circles the points. His palm presses flat to your sternum and pushes gently, lowering your upper half down to the mattress. Dipping down toward you, he flicks his tongue against your nipple, sucking it into his mouth. Your breath trembles out of you, your hand flying to the back of his head and tangling his greying hair.

He hums, his hand slipping between your bodies so he can grab your thigh and wrap it around his hip. He grinds absentmindedly against your thigh, achingly confined in his boxers, while his mouth continues sucking and licking your nipples like he’s a goddamn cat. You taste so good—softness and soap and the tang of perfume that still lingers on your skin—and Joel can only groan, his fingers squeezing your thigh so hard he’ll leave bruises.

“Joel!” It comes out as a helpless gasp, your head falling back into the mattress when you feel his free hand take a greedy handful of your ass. His mouth begins a path from your tits to your belly, lavishing your skin with his tongue as if he’s trying to permanently etch the memory of it into your body. It’s working.

“This fuckin’ perfume,” he groans against your skin, his nostrils flaring. He feels like a crazed animal set free.

“You like it?” tumbles breathlessly from your lips.

“It’s all I think about. Fuckin’ dream about it.” He presses his lips to the spot just above your belly button. “So goddamn sexy. Fuck, baby, I missed you.”

You’ll never, ever buy a different perfume again. His fingers hook in the waistband of your little shorts and the panties underneath, and your hips writhe. “Joel,” you mewl, looking down your body at him, the way he begins to slide them off. “I…”

I missed you, too. I missed you so much that my body ached. I can’t lose you again.

Like he can see the words flooding your mind through the wetness in your eyes, he presses a gentle kiss to your inner thigh. “Don’t have to say anything,” he tells you, moving back to give himself just enough room to remove your bottoms and reveal your pretty, wet pussy to him. “Just keep lookin’ at me.”

Wordlessly, you nod. Joel wraps his arms around your thighs, pulls you to the edge of the bed as he kneels at the foot of it, and buries his face in your pussy.

“Oh, shit!” It’s hard to keep your head upright, to keep your eyes fixed to his wide brown irises, when you watch his tongue dart out to lick your little clit. You can feel your cheeks burn when he spreads your folds with his thumbs just to have better access to his meal, slick and wanting before his eyes.

You cover your face with one hand to stifle your blush and your moan, but Joel growls right into your pussy, and you realise he doesn't like that. You drop your hand and fasten it in his hair, your fingers tugging him gently toward you. “Please,” you whimper. “Please, baby…”

The nickname falling from your mouth sends what's left of his blood soaring downward. Joel flattens his tongue against your folds and licks a hot, slow path to your clit. Your sweet sigh spurs him on, his fingers abandoning their grip on your thigh to spread your slick around your entrance. He dips two fingers into your hole and curls them toward him as his lips attach to your clit.

Your hips buck involuntarily with the jolts of white-hot pleasure that have you seeing double. “Feels so good,” you manage to choke out. It's an understatement. It feels like electric jolts to your system, a hundred lethal jabs to your veins.

“Mmm,” is Joel’s reply, the hunger in his eyes engulfing you. His moustache glistens with your wetness and you want to feel embarrassed about how quickly he's reeling you toward the edge of a cliff, but you can't. Not when he's looking up at you like you're the first snowfall in a desert and he's eating you out like you’re the only meal he's had in months. His fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs as he meticulously applies pressure to the spongy spot inside you.

You begin to shake but Joel does not relent. He licks and sucks your poor clit until your orgasm is a foregone conclusion and there's no going back. “I… Joel, I can’t— ah, fuck! Gonna… gonna come—!”

Your back arches and your head falls to the mattress, unable to hold itself up any longer. Joel fixes his mouth to your pussy and drinks down everything you give him, soaking his fingers while your thighs clamp around his ears. He wants to die like this, he thinks. He’ll go happily, your body muffling the sounds of the world outside.

Fuck, the way you look when you come. He’s never going to forget it. The scrunch of your brows, the fluttering of your lashes, the arch of your back. The fucking noises. The sweet, broken moans that slip past your lips, unrestrained. Unapologetic. It makes him so fucking proud of himself: you feel free with him, free to take and take. He’ll give you another if you let him. Jesus, he'll give you five more.

He’s already dipping his head again to lap up the rest of your orgasm and start over, but you gently tug him back with a little cry.

Your tits are heaving and he wants to put his mouth back on them. “You’ll kill me if you do that again.”

Joel chuckles, a little winded from his own arousal, pressing kisses from your navel back up to your chest. “I need you alive,” he mumbles, his rough hand caressing your thigh, which he's got wrapped around his hip.

“Please get naked,” you beg, your hands dropping from his shoulders to the hem of his T-shirt. Joel grins, sitting back so you can follow him and tug the shirt over his head, letting it tousle his hair some more. You admire the softness of his belly and the strong, broad shoulders; the arms whose muscles ripple when he reaches down and unbuckles his belt.

You must be practically salivating at the sight of your man undressing for you, whipping off his belt like it owes him money, because he gives you that smug look and turns you both around. Lying on his back, he positions you on top of his erection. The sudden jolt to your clit makes you jump. “Warn a girl,” you laugh.

Joel, now naked beneath you, digs his fingers into your hips and guides you along his hard length. You shudder, your thighs closing around his sides. “No fun in that,” he says. “I like seein’ you squirm.”

“Yeah?” You angle your hips to catch the head of his cock at your entrance and begin to sink down on him. He hisses, baring his teeth as he watches your bodies meet. “Not so cocky now, Miller.”

“I don’t know.” He reaches up and squeezes your tits in his big hands. “Still feelin’ pretty cocky. Sexiest woman on the fuckin’ planet is sitting on my dick.”

You give an experimental roll of your hips as he bottoms out, and stars turn to supernovas behind your eyes. You throw your arms forward to keep your balance and dig your fingertips into his chest. “That’s it, baby,” he groans, helping you grind yourself on his cock with his hands on your ass. “So fuckin’ pretty like this. So fuckin’ good.”

You continue to ride him, your thighs beginning to burn as his cock slides deliciously against your g-spot over and over again. “You're so big,” you gasp, your head lolling on your shoulders. “Fuck, I missed you.”

He grunts your name, his hand applying pressure to your lower belly. “You're takin’ it so well for me. My perfect girl.”

You gasp raggedly at the thick, heavy weight of him inside you, his warm hand at your navel, the way his dark eyes ground you in this moment. Here, no one can interrupt. The two of you are locked in orbit, and the blackness between the stars pushes in on you. You lace your fingers through his and rest them next to his head as you lean down and kiss him.

It’s a little sloppy with the movement of your body, but he isn't being greedy. He’s taking everything you want to give him and groaning happily into your mouth, your lips swollen and your chin chafing slightly from the scratch of his beard. “Lemme touch you,” he pleads whenever he finds breath. “Baby, I wanna touch you.”

Okay. Maybe he's being a little greedy. You release his hands and he surges upward, his back pinching again. He doesn't even register the pain. Everything is you. He wraps one arm around your waist to keep you balanced on his lap, his cock shifting inside you and his other hand cradling the back of your neck. You’re grabbing his shoulders for support as you begin to bounce up and down on him, ripping a growl from his throat.

It devolves until you're both animals. Your pussy gushes on him as you ride his cock, the sounds of sex obscene and the smell of your perfume clogging up the pathways in his brain. Your tits jiggle with every motion and Joel, his hand firm on your upper back, takes your nipples between his teeth—alternates between sucking and nipping and tugging. You moan his name, losing the ability to support your own head on your shoulders.

His eyes are glazed over, black with the promise of you, the knowledge of being yours the way you're his. You drop your forehead against his.

“Joel,” you whimper, fucking cock-drunk as he takes your tight cunt. You feel so good that he can't see straight, his fingers wrapping around your hair as your thighs slap against him. “I’m so close.”

“C’mon, baby girl,” he rasps, his nose sliding against your sweat-cooled temple. You cry out, and he nods his head, baring his teeth on your cheek. “I know, baby. Me too. Me too.”

Your thighs burn and your toes curl, your mouth dropping open in a feeble attempt to take in more air as you crumble in his arms. Your tits are squished up against his chest, sensitive and sore from his mouth. You grasp his biceps as you come, sinking all the way down onto his cock and fixing him to you.

“That’s it.” Joel helps you ride out your orgasm, going blind with the way your pussy grips him, pulsing around his length like the beating of a heart. He's lost his fucking mind. He's overcome with the need to keep himself lodged inside your cunt, slick and hot and needy (Christ, you're so needy, mewling and grasping at his body like you'll never have enough). He doesn't lift you off his cock. He won't let you go. He’ll fuck you like this every goddamn day if it means he can hold you this way at the end of it all.

Your lust-filled, bleary eyes drop to his lips, and Joel takes pity on your post-orgasmic haze, kissing you with a fervour you can't quite match. Your lashes are sprinkled with dewy tears. Your smile irradiates the darkening sky. You're the picture of beauty. For a moment, he wishes he were an artist.

“You didn’t come,” you mumble, leaning in for another kiss.

It's true. He's still hard and aching inside you, spilling precum into your pussy, but Joel rubs his hand up and down your back and says, “You nearly blacked out. Had to make sure you didn't keel over on me.”

You grin, contracting your muscles around his cock and watching his jaw tick. “I want you to come,” you whisper into his ear, kissing the spot just below it. “Inside me, please.”

“Jesus,” he huffs, his cock twitching inside you. “Get on your hands and knees.”

You go eagerly, arching your back all pretty for him when you get in position. He smooths his hand over your ass and says, “You know the drill, baby.”

You lift your upper half and curl your fingers around your headboard. Joel hums, satisfied by the bend of your body, and notches himself back inside you. The way your hole swallows him has his head tipping back in ecstasy, holding into your hips like they're two lifelines. “Honey, you gotta stay still,” he groans.

You hum, wiggling your ass back on him and earning a smack to it. “I already came. It’s your turn.”

He leans down and peppers kisses on your shoulder blades, just because he can. “And you're gonna give me another. Hold on tight.”

You do. And he shows no mercy. Joel’s hands keep your sore hips in place as he begins to pound you from behind, your hands firm on your headboard. “Joel!” you squeal, jolting forward on the bed.

The sound of his name passing through your lips makes his teeth clash together. “No runnin’,” he says, wrapping his hand around your hair for leverage. You gasp at the mixture of pleasure and pain as he fucks you deep, one hand detaching from the headboard and blindly reaching backward to grasp for his hip.

Joel takes pity on you, interlocking your fingers together at his side. Your hot, wet walls suck him in and contract relentlessly around him. Every instinct has him punching deeper, harder, intent on pulling another orgasm from you. The little voice at the back of his head screams at him: fuck her hard, make her scream, ruin her for every other man.

Not that he's letting you go. Not ever.

Your legs are beginning to shake, your upper half losing the strength to hold itself up. Luckily, he's got you, holding you by the hair and pulling you up toward his chest to deepen the angle. He bites down on the curve of your neck and tears a moan from your throat. “Oh my God.”

Joel grins into your sweet-smelling skin. “Got any room left in that pretty mouth for my name?” he says darkly. “Hmm? Who’s fuckin’ you?”

Your eyes roll back in your head when he takes a break from pounding you to grind, his length pressing against your g-spot. You can't come again. You can't. Except—he's going to make you. He's always been able to make you.

“Joel,” you whisper, your throat clicking with drool.

You can feel the shape of his mocking pout against your throat, kissing his way back up to your jaw and nipping at it. The scratch of his beard, the strength of his arms, the warmth of your intertwined fingers—you’re spiralling. Crashing. He's being a real asshole now. “Can't hear you,” he says. “I’m old, remember? Right ear doesn’t work so good.”

You want to snip at him just to take him down a few pegs, but he knows your body; and you know, deep in your soul, that you cannot lie to him. “Joel,” you moan, squeezing his hand, “it’s you. It's only you. I’m yours.”

“That’s right, baby.” He brings your joined hands to your front and presses your fingers against your clit. You keen, your body bowing. “Go on. Give me one more.”

You moan. “I… I c—”

“Yeah, you can. I’ll help if it gets too hard.” Smug, arrogant bastard. You rub your clit in fast circles, pinpricks of hot pleasure surging through your body and lifting the hairs on your arms. Joel’s pace inside you doesn’t slow or deepen. He’s steadfast, urging you to your peak so he can seek his own. And when you crash, your blood singing and your nerves needling, his hand moves from your hair to your throat, applying gentle pressure and refusing to let you fall to the mattress. You choke on your cries as you leave divots in your headboard with your fingers, clenching around his cock.

He works you through it, grunting his praises into your ear, your interlocked hands flexing at your clit while your muscles cease functioning. Joel tips off the edge with a series of groans, his voice breaking as he fixes his teeth to your shoulder. With how tightly you squeeze him, you can feel every spurt of hot cum he spills into your cunt, every pulse of his length as his balls empty inside you. Coupled with the stuttering thrusts against your backside, you can tell he’s trying to push as much of himself in as he can, his moans waning to near-whimpers as you help wring every drop from him.

Even then, when he gently lower you to the mattress and leaves kisses down your back, he’s using the head of his cock to collect the cum that’s dripped out of you and spreading it all over your used pussy.

Holy fuck.

Your thighs twitch with every gentle swipe over your clit. “Joel,” you moan brokenly, heaving with your face buried in your pillow.

You know he’s through with indulging himself when he drops onto his back next to you, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you into his side. “C’mere.”

You’re already going, nuzzling your face into his lickable neck and nudging your nose against his scruffy jaw. He pulls your thigh up over his hip and caresses the length of it with his rough fingers. You’ve missed being held like this. Fuck, you missed him.

“Wasn’t kiddin’ about your perfume,” he says, the timbre of his voice rattling your ribcage as you inch closer to him. “Can’t keep my goddamn hands off you.”

You laugh. “Maybe it’s time you stopped blaming the perfume, Miller, and start blaming your self-control. Or lack thereof.”

At that, he lands a smack to the side of your thigh. “Don’t wanna control myself if I can have you like this.”

He’s got a point.

He turns his head toward you and brushes your hair away from your face. “You’ve got it good here,” he says softly. “It suits you.”

You bite your lip, warmth seizing your chest. “It’s a nice bed, too, huh?”

He grins. “Real nice.”

Now that he isn’t consumed with getting inside you, Joel can finally look around your bedroom. There are still unopened boxes and furniture parts scattered about the floor, but he’ll help you with that. It’s the walls that draw his attention. Pictures of you and your mom, you and some friends from New York, you with your yoga instructor Jill, both of you twisted into pretzels.

The periodic table on the wall above your desk (which is already piled with books) is what yanks at his heart like it’s tied with a fishing line. He doesn’t really know why. Maybe it’s the fact that you’re really staying.

“I’m gonna put you up on that wall,” you tell him, following his gaze.

“Yeah?” He doesn’t let on how excited it makes him. “With duct tape or nails?”

You hum, taking his jaw between your thumb and forefinger. “I’ll put you in a frame first. Maybe I’ll keep you on my bedside table.”

He leans in and kisses your lips, then your nose. “Don’t wanna sleep holding me?”

You smile against his mouth. “I’ll take the real thing.”

Between classes, you decide to bring Joel lunch from the sub shop on campus. His job site is nearby, since they're working on an addition to a house in the neighbourhood. It’s Tommy Miller you see first, though, with his hard hat on and his bright orange vest tucked into his jeans like he's trying to make it stylish.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Tommy beams at you, squinting in the sunshine with his hand shielding his eyes. “Nice dress.”

You roll your eyes fondly. “Nice vest.”

“Your dad’s in the office, but Joel’s fuckin’ around just over there.” He points to the site, where a small cluster of guys in similar dress are securing the foundation of the client's new walls.

“Thanks, Tommy.”

“Wait up.” He bends down and picks up a yellow hard hat, securing it on your head. “He’d kick my ass if I didn't make you wear it.”

You pat his shoulder. “Don't work too hard.”

He produces a cigarette from behind his ear and grins. “Don't worry about me.”

When you make it to Joel, he’s on his own, bent over blueprints on a table in the middle of the barebones room, rubbing a hand over his scruffy beard. “Remind me to remind you to get a haircut,” you tease.

He looks up, seeing you in that dress and that bright yellow hard hat, carrying a paper bag filled with sandwiches, and his face breaks into a grin as his heart swells three sizes. “Hey, baby.”

“Hey.” You sidle up next to him and place the bag on top of the blueprints. “I won't stay long, I promise. But you need to eat.”

He swipes his arm across his forehead to wipe the sweat away. “You brought me lunch?”

You unravel the bag and hand him his sub: ham and swiss on white. “Is it up to code?”

His crooked smile makes your heart flutter. “Best one I’ve ever seen.”

“You aren't even looking at it.”

“Don't need to. I’m fuckin’ hungry.”

You smile, tilting your head back so you can kiss him. He pulls away slightly, grimacing. “I’m a mess, baby. I’m sweaty.”

“Are you kidding me?” The sun and labour have left a sheen of sweat all over his tanned skin. His biceps are rippling with every slight movement and you want to sink your teeth into them. His hair is tousled and damp with sweat, curls peeking out from beneath his hat. It's a cruel fate, to be so close to someone so sexy when you know you can't take it anywhere.

Joel tugs you closer by the small of your back. “You're clean. I’m not.”

You raise a challenging brow. “So get me dirty.”

It’s thrilling to watch his pupils dilate, his hand tightening around the fabric of your dress. He ducks his head and kisses you softly, his thumb and forefinger on your chin. You let yourself indulge for as long as you can, your hands slipping beneath his bright vest. Until his coworkers approach, wolf-whistling at the pair of you.

“Miller, you dog!”

“Get a room!”

You hide your face in his chest while Joel takes off his hat just to smack one of his guys in the shoulder with it. “I ain’t payin’ you to sit around, assholes.”

“He payin’ you to date him, sweetheart?” says Chris, white-haired and bushy-bearded. “Blink twice.”

You pat Joel on the chest and give him a mortified look. “That's my cue to leave.”

He still looks like he wants to take on his coworkers in the boxing ring, but he loosens the tension in his jaw and meets your gaze, hiding your faces with his hat so he can kiss you again. He gives you a couple more along your jaw and your forehead, ending at your nose. “Thank you for lunch, baby. See you tonight.”

You frown, a slight panic squeezing your chest at the idea that you've forgotten an important date. There's nothing marked in your calendar. “Tonight?”

But he's smiling, all feathers and cockiness, fitting his hat back on his head. “Takin’ you out to dinner.”

You breathe a sigh of relief. “I’ve got a test next block, so I don't have time to stop at home. Pick out my dress for me.”

He lifts his brows at the prospect, his eyes glittering. There's mischief in that rich brown. “Yeah?”

Your fingers, wrapped around his firm bicep, pulse gently. “Yeah.”

“Attack your test, pretty girl.” He gives your hip a squeeze. “I’ll do all the work tonight.”

Your teeth sink briefly into your lower lip. “Now I’m hungry.”

“Fuck physics! Fuck everything about it and the asshole who invented it!”

Joel can hear your voice carry before you've even opened the front door. The sound of your keys clanking around the bowl echoes in his ears like the ring of a bell. He hurries down the stairs, still pulling a shirt over his head, and meets you in the living room.

Fuck. You’re wound up. Your shoulders are pulled into your body and your chest heaves with every breath, your pretty face drawn in a miserable frown. “Hi,” you bite out, trying to reel in your anger. He doesn't deserve it. “How was work?”

Joel tries a smile. “I don’t think one person invented physics.”

You groan, burying your face in his chest. “Do not question me right now, Joel Miller.”

He does his best to quell his own amusement in favour of empathy. You're not particularly frightening when you're angry, but it's not your job to be. He's the frightening one in this relationship. “I’m sorry, baby. Test not go well?”

“I don't get it,” you croak. “I studied for days. Actual days.”

“I know you did.” He can live with eating dinner by himself, but he doesn’t like knowing you often forget to eat altogether when you're not with him.

“I’m at the library so often that the other people there know not to sit in my usual spot.” You put your head in your hands. “I made flash cards. I quizzed myself. I forced all of my friends to quiz me. I was halfway to forcing you to quiz me!”

“Baby, you know I would've quizzed you a hundred times.”

“Apparently, it wouldn't have helped,” you snap. “I failed. I don’t fail.”

He says your name, then repeats it when you don't respond. “You're spiralling.”

You shut your eyes, digging the heels of your palms into your lids and taking three deep breaths. “I know. I know. I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head. “Don't gotta be sorry. You can yell at me all you want.”

“Never at you. Just… to you.” You pull back and wind your arms around his neck, scratching your nails at the back of his neck. “I didn't mean to get mad.”

“You’re like a hissing kitten when you get mad. I ain’t hurt.” He caresses your arms and ignores your harmless glare. “Wanna tell me what went wrong?”

You let out a long sigh through your nose. “I know what I screwed up on. I’m just frustrated with myself. I’m a good student, and this felt like a total waste.”

“It ain't a waste.” Joel’s pout means he's not happy with how you view yourself; it's different from his concentrated pout and his mocking pout. “You're the smartest person I know.”

You can't help the smile that splits your face. He's a man of few words most days, and he always knows exactly which ones to use. You know you're smart. It doesn't mean it doesn't feel really fucking nice to hear it with so much conviction. “Yeah?”

“Hmm. Smartest.” His lips brush your forehead, your nerves lighting up with sensation. “Prettiest.” He nudges his nose against yours. “Sweetest.” You let him part your lips with his, slipping his tongue inside your mouth. You let him distract you. And it's good to let go.

There will be other tests. There will be more chances. There's only one Joel.

He smells like fresh air, sawdust, and the cologne he always wears. You understand why he's obsessed with your perfume. This fucking cologne is certifiable in its ability to make you melt against him.

He tastes like mint. Joel’s hands are on your back, one palm digging into the space between your shoulder blades and the other into your lower back. You both stumble a bit when he gets eager, catching yourselves with a hand out on the sofa. He pulls away, his pupils blown wide, his chest expanding and depressing with each rapid breath.

“C’mon,” he says, taking your hand and guiding you upstairs.

“What are you—”

“Helpin’ you de-stress.”

“From the looks of the situation in your jeans, you might be the one who needs de-stressing.”

Joel huffs, turning into the bathroom. “This ain't about me, baby. Take off your dress.”

You raise your brows but unzip the dress and step out of it, leaving it in a pool on the floor. Joel turns on the hot water in the shower and appraises your body at the same time you admire his, strong and sturdy and sexy. His erection visibly strains his pants before he gives himself some relief, shedding all of his clothes, too. His cock taps his stomach, making you rub your thighs together as the thought of having it inside you—always a good relaxant.

“C’mere.” You put your hand in his and step into the shower, drenching yourself in the scalding water. You can feel the steam melt your bones, easing the knots in your shoulder from working yourself up onto a ledge. Joel steps in behind you, pressing his mouth to your shoulder.

You sigh, lacing your fingers through his, where they rest against your hips. “Mmm. This is nice.”

You can feel his dick sit heavily against the swell of your ass, but he isn't paying attention to his own needs. He's focusing all of his energy on you: kissing your shoulders, caressing your waist and your belly, sinking his teeth into the crook of your neck like he's a vampire. He’ll gently soothe the marks with his lips when he's done, leaving his claim all over you and fizzling the tightness in your muscles with every attentive touch. All while the water beats at your breasts, trickles down between your thighs, and warms your body.

Joel detaches the shower head from its mount on the wall, tipping your head backward so he can lean down and slant his mouth over yours. “Keep holdin’ onto me,” he says, guiding the spray of water over your chest, slowly making a path down your sternum.

You nod, sinking into his deep brown eyes as the jet meets your thighs, burrowing deeper until—

“Joel,” you gasp, choking on your own breath. He’s guided the shower head over your clit, the pleasure scalding and sudden. You grasp his wrist, writhing against the cold metal while hot bursts of water consistently meet your bundle of nerves.

He tuts like you're doing something wrong, frowning against your cheek. “No moving,” he says. The order resonates through your chest and wriggles into your brain. “Does it feel good?”

You moan when he pinches and rolls your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. “Feels so good.”

He takes your earlobe between his teeth. “Relax. You're still tense.”

You sigh, squirming under the heavy spray of water against your sensitive clit. Joel keeps his nose buried in you, inhaling your scent, indulging in every way he can. Your wet hair is plastered to your skin, your buttery eyes meeting his under dew-slick lashes. “Joel,” you moan, your stomach tightening as you try to find a grip on the shower wall. “Please…”

“What do you need, baby?” He kisses your jaw, angling the shower head upward so it sprays harder against your clit. Your eyes roll back into your head, your hips bucking against the metal and your hand blindly grasping. It finds his arm, wrapped around your waist from behind. He lets you dig your nails into his tanned skin while your composure dwindles.

“Just like that,” you cry out, the pleasure rolling over your body in catastrophic waves. The pressure is so intense that you have to blink away black spots, Joel’s lips on your neck pulling you back down to the ground.

“I got you, baby girl. I’m not gonna let you fall.” His voice is the rumble of thunder, and your orgasm crackles through you like lightning. “Let go. C’mon, baby.”

Your moans turn hoarse and your thighs tremble uncontrollably as you topple over the edge. Joel keeps his hand wrapped around your waist like a seat belt, holding you firm against his chest.

The spray of water lights up a thousand nerve endings and turns you into liquid fire. He feeds praise into your ears and lets you ride the shower head until your body settles, shaking but satiated. He secures it back into the holder and turns you in his grasp, cupping your face and kissing you deeply.

“Mmm, that was nice,” you say lamely, still a little weak on your feet. Joel hums in kind, going right back in for another kiss, his lips plush and warm against yours. You wrap your arms around him and press your palms against his strong back as the spray covers you both. His dick is hard and leaking against your belly, but he isn't making a move. He's just kissing you, like it's all the satisfaction he needs.

“Have I told you today— mmmph —how much I like you?”

He pulls away, his eyes glittering with a boyish joy. “Not today.”

“Well.” You reach between your bodies and wrap your fingers around the base of him, squeezing softly. His groan stutters, his forehead falling to yours. “I like you. A lot.”

“Fuck, baby.” Joel grasps your wrist. “This ain't about me,” he says again. You know he's only trying to convince himself.

“What if this is something I want?” you say with a wicked smile, nipping the tip of his nose.

The hollow of his throat caves with a shuddering breath. “I’m a grown man who can—fuckin’ Christ—take care of himself.”

“Yeah?” You pout, gently stroking him until your hand is wrapped around the head. His cock twitches in your grasp. “But it's so much more fun when your girl does it for you. Isn't it?”

He's losing control; you can see it in his eyes. “Wash up,” he bites out. “And when you get out, you’ll bend over the counter.”

You bite your lip, arousal clambering back up your spine. “And what will you do to me?”

Joel grasps your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Whatever I goddamn want.”

You've never finished showering so fast.

When your birthday comes, it isn’t the warm press of his body next to you that drags you from your peaceful sleep. It’s the sound of Joel’s fire alarm blaring in your ears. And he’s not in bed.

You don’t even have time to blink yourself awake, stumbling out of the bed still half-tangled in the sheets and hopping haphazardly into his shirt and a pair of boxers. You can’t find your own clothes; he was adamant in them being as far away from your body as possible once he drove you back from the club last night. The alarm screeches as you bolt down the stairs, rounding the corner in your frantic search for your boyfriend—and a fire.

It’s when you skid to a halt in the kitchen that you finally find him, standing in front of what is definitely not a fire. At least the alarm has stopped beeping.

“What the hell is going on in here?”

Joel turns to you, holding a plate of black squares. Smoke still curls out from the toaster. “Did I wake you up?” he asks, as if he isn’t balancing the incriminating evidence in his hands.

“No, honey, the smoke alarm woke me up,” you say, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. “Are you okay?”

There’s a towel slung over his shoulder, but it doesn’t look to be doing much good. He rushes to you and hands you a steaming cup of coffee. “Did this right at least,” he grumbles. “Tried to cook you breakfast. Fuckin’ burned the toast.”

Despite the abrupt wake-up call of the fire alarm, you’re overcome with a dizzying wave of affection. His brown eyes peer down at you like he’s a puppy awaiting a treat, and his greying hair is deliciously tousled. He wanted to make you breakfast: Joel Miller, the man who eats only to survive. It’s hard not to love him. As if you’ve ever bothered to resist.

“White bread is bad for you, anyways,” you say, bringing him down to you with a hand at the nape of his neck and kissing him tenderly. “Thank you, Joel.”

A low rumble vibrates in his chest as he blindly sets the plate of burnt toast on the table so he can wrap his arms around your back. “Happy birthday, baby,” he says, kissing his way from your lips to your jaw, unconcerned with any morning breath you may have.

You pull away and grin up at him, raking your fingers through his hair. “Is there hope for the eggs?”

“If you don't distract me,” he says, caressing your arms.

“Mmm. Sounds boring.” You press your chest to his and ghost your lips over his neck. Your mouth on him earns a soft groan, but it also earns a slap to your ass.

“I’m tryin’ to be good to you,” he says, cupping your face in his hands. “Don't make it hard.”

“But I love making you hard.”

“You're funny, baby.” Joel splays his fingers over the small of your back. “Sit down and relax.”

“And let you burn down your kitchen?” You click your tongue, giving his ass a pinch for good measure. “How about we work on breakfast together?”

Joel pouts. “It’s your—”

“My birthday is going to be amazing, because I’m with you.” You lace your fingers together. “I can get back in bed when it's done, and you can bring it to me. How's that sound?”

“Good.” He kisses the top of your head. “It sounds good.”

He brings the poached eggs on toast to you on a tray, complete with a brand-new cup of coffee. Joel’s not much of a breakfast person, so he sits next to you as you balance the tray on your lap, drench your eggs in sriracha, and dig in. The problem is trying not to get crumbs on his sheets or topple the tray onto the bed.

Joel doesn't seem to mind. He idly rubs your back below the hem of his sweatshirt, sipping his own coffee every now and then. The sun shines golden through the window in his bedroom, illuminating your glowing skin and the light in your eyes. He’s captivated by the beauty that radiates from you. He can't keep a houseplant alive, so he has none, but he's convinced your smile could revive them. It's added years to his own life.

“You’ve got work today,” you remind him, setting the tray on the bedside table and facing him with your legs crossed.

“I called in sick.”

Your brows shoot up. “Joel.”

His hand shifts to stroke your thigh, giving reassuring squeezes. “Baby, I’m not spending your birthday at a job site. Tommy can handle it while I’m gone.”

“And nobody on the site knows that it’s your girlfriend’s birthday?”

“It's bad enough hearin’ Tommy flirt with you every goddamn chance he gets,” he says, lifting your legs up onto his lap. “Don't wanna hear it from the guys, too.”

You wrap your arms around his neck and pull yourself up onto his lap. “If you want me to wear a shirt that says your name on it, just say so.”

His thumb traces one of your lower vertebrae. “That an option?”

“Tommy doesn't know boundaries when it comes to teasing his brother.” Your finger twirls a lock of his grey hair. “The others know better than to piss you off.”

He grins, nudging his nose against yours. “Which means they won't question me when I tell ‘em I’m sick.”

“You win this round.” Your lips meet his in a slow, sweet kiss. His hand cradles your jaw while the other presses at your back, guiding you closer. You taste like coffee and toothpaste and you smell like his body wash, and it's enough to send blood surging downward. He groans faintly into your mouth and pulls back.

“Hey,” you protest. “It’s my birthday. I can kiss you as much as I want.”

“And if you do, I won’t be able to think straight long enough to give you your present.” To punctuate his point, he grinds up against you, letting you feel the hardness in his jeans against your thigh.

You shift so you're straddling his hips. “Thinking straight is overrated. Come back here.”

Joel hesitates, his lips parted, and your heart stops with the implication. “What did you do?” you demand.

“Mike may have called me,” he says, rubbing soothing circles on your back, “and we have to be at your place in an hour. Consider this your warning for your surprise party.”

You gape at him. “Joel!”

He cups your face in his hands and kisses your cheeks, your forehead, your nose. You’re annoyed with how easily it loosens the tense muscles in your shoulders. “Baby, he wanted to surprise you, and I know you're too much of a—”

“If you say control freak, I’m breaking up with you.”

Joel places his hands on your shoulders and squeezes. “Be honest with me. Would you have wanted a surprise?”

You grit your teeth because no, of course not. And he knows it. You would have happily let the surprise go without warning, just to please your dad. But Joel’s got his warm, work-worn hands on your body and it melts all your neurotic energy away. “You're lucky I like you so damn much.”

“Yeah?” His face gets a bit closer to you, seeking your mouth, as his hands migrate to your waist.

You bite your bottom lip to smother your smile. “Yeah.”

Joel hums, inching his boxer shorts up your thighs. “Tell me all about it, baby.”

“It’s my birthday,” you tease, guiding his hands to your tits. He palms them greedily over the sweatshirt. “If you want it so bad… lick it out of me.”

Joel’s eyes turn coal-black. “What did I say about distractions?” His voice is the grate of boots along concrete.

“We have time,” you purr. “Unless you don't think you can make me come before the hour is up.”

“How did I get so goddamn lucky,” he grunts, sliding his hands under your sweatshirt and shucking it up over your head. “You're a fuckin’ dream.”

You shriek with laughter when he rolls you over, pressing open-mouthed kisses on your sternum and flicking his tongue over your perky nipples. He replaces it with his hands when his mouth migrates down your belly until he’s kissing all over your stomach, dragging his boxers off your legs.

“Mmm.” You grin, your eyes fluttering shut as you rake your fingers through his hair. “I just decided—I don't need a present. This is all I want.”

Joel huffs into your skin. “Good thing it ain't anything special.”

“It’s from you. It is special.”

Looking up and resting his chin on your belly, Joel squeezes your hips. His eyes are gooey, warm, soft enough to roll around your palms like velvet. He's never been one for tooth-aching declarations. He’s good at telling you the truth. He's good at reminding you that not everything requires a panicked response. He's good at grounding you in the world with a single look. And it’s why he doubles his efforts to make you feel good, sinking down your body and burying his face in your pussy.

You both arrive at your apartment with minutes to spare. Thankfully, your dad and Joel collaborated on dinner during their illicit phone call and decided to order from your favourite shawarma place in town. Joel takes the liberty of hanging a colourful streamer that reads HAPPY BIRTHDAY. There was no time to pick up a cake on the way, given Joel spent forty minutes between your legs this morning, so you decide to make one.

It gives him the opportunity to show his first gift to you: a box stuffed with new measuring cups, spoons, cupcake wrappers, cookie cutters (shaped like hearts, stars (for Texas, he says), and beakers), and, at the very bottom—

“My mom’s old recipe book,” he says, scratching the back of his neck and looking sheepish.

You gape at him, a painful needling behind your nose as tears well up. “Joel,” you say weakly. “I can't accept this.”

“I never used it. I can't cook for shit, and she never trusted Tommy with it.” Joel tucks your hair behind your ear. “I know for a fact she would love you. She'd want you to have it.”

You sniffle, your fingers tracing the edge of the photograph on the inside cover: a teenage Joel and his mom in his childhood kitchen. She’s grinning, pinching his cheeks between her thumb and fingers, while he tries to smile. “She was beautiful,” you say. It’s all you can manage.

“She was.” Joel smiles down at the picture. “Had this sixth sense for when we were about to get into trouble. Always knew exactly what to say, what to do.”

“So did my mom,” you tell him. “I was a good kid, but I was always high-strung. A little lonely. She was my best friend; always knew when I needed someone to talk to.”

“Sounds like they'd like each other,” he says, his hand idly rubbing your back.

You turn the page to find more images, blinking away your fond tears. “Yeah. I think they would.”

He indicates an image of Tommy, who must have been ten at the time, and a group of his friends. “Back in our day, we had to go to our friends’ houses if we wanted to go out and start shit.”

“You’re ageing yourself, Miller,” you say teasingly, wrapping your arm around his and guiding his face to yours. Before you kiss him, you meet his gaze and brush his hair back from his face. “Thank you. This is beyond thoughtful, and I love it.”

His expression softens into that look he only reserves for you. It’s serene and heavy-lidded, his smile a bit crooked. It’s one of the few times you see him utterly relaxed. Naked. “Happy birthday,” he says softly. His nose brushes yours and your lips meet.

You're wearing a ratty orange-and-white University of Austin T-shirt and a pair of jeans that aren't at all sexy, but he still touches you like you're the most radiant creature on the planet. Like you're a goddess.

His tongue parts your lips and slides along yours, your body bowing against his as you wind your arms around his neck. Your back bumps the counter while Joel crowds you, inadvertently knocking the mixing bowl to the floor in his overzealous attempts to get his hands on your ass. “Shit,” he says, pulling away. “Sorry.”

At the same time, your buzzer sounds. “Shit,” you parrot. “That’s Dad.”

You watch his eyes sharpen through the haze and the heaving of his chest flatten to a typical rate, although his hair is still admirably tousled. You imagine you don't look much more put-together.

When you at last let him in, he tackles you with a hug. “Surprise!”

“Dad!” you squeal through your laughter.

“Hey, hon,” he says, lifting you and twirling you around in the doorway. He’s holding a gift bag that bumps against your hip. “Happy birthday.”

“I’m so glad you could make it.” You usher him inside, shutting the door behind you. “Joel’s in the kitchen.”

He grimaces. “And that’s a good idea because…?”

“He’s not touching anything. I’m making a cake.” He sets the gift bag on your coffee table and joins Joel in the kitchen.

“Hey, asshole. You've already made a mess in here.”

The bowl has been salvaged from the floor, but the measuring cups and the cookie cutters are strewn about the countertop. Joel pulls Mike into a brief hug and slaps his back as a way of greeting. “That would be your daughter’s mess.”

“My daughter doesn't know what the word mess means.”

“He’s got a point.” You begin to collect Joel’s gift back into the box and tuck it out of the way. You lie his mother's book on top, smoothing over the cover with your palm. “Both of you can leave the kitchen. Pretty please.”

“Yes, ma’am,” says Joel, his hand brushing across your back and his lips pressing against your temple as he exits the kitchen.

Your dad sits on the stool on the other side of the pass-through window. “You feel old yet?”

“No older than you, Dad.”

“Smartass.”

Joel sidles up to the pass-through as you're blending your wet ingredients together. “Hey, baby. Turn around.”

When you do, a bright flash obstructs your vision. Joel’s holding your Polaroid camera, plucking out the picture and grinning down at it. “If you're gonna take a picture of me, you should be in it,” you say.

“I ain't as pretty as you.”

It’s a good candid. You, slightly frazzled, with a bowl and electric beater in your arms. Flushed and beautiful. He tucks it inside his back pocket.

“I beg to differ.”

Mike slaps him on the back. “You want a beer?”

“Nah, I drove.” Joel gives you a look. “Someone went out on a pre-birthday bender last night.”

You roll your eyes. “It was a Friday night. Didn't even mix my liquors.”

Mike lifts a brow. “You need a babysitter when you go out?”

“Don't be condescending. I had a babysitter. Leigh.”

Joel snaps another picture, this time of you and Mike, mid-mock-argument. “It's like watchin’ two mice in a screaming match.”

Mike plucks the camera out of his hands and takes a picture of Joel instead. “Look at that. Still old as shit.”

Joel slaps him square in the chest and goes for a headlock, but Mike evades him. You reach through the window and snatch the picture out of your dad’s hand. In it, Joel’s looking at you, a crooked grin on his face. His eyes are warm and the silver in his hair illuminated by the fuzzy glow of the Polaroid. He looks happy.

“This is going on the wall.”

“See, Mike?” Joel sidles up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist. His thumb idly caresses your hip bone. “I get the wall.”

“Miller, if you don’t stop feeling up my daughter right in front of me—”

You pin him with a glare. “Dad.”

“Just because I’m not actively knockin’ his lights out doesn’t mean I don’t want to. I’m still your father.”

Joel just kisses your temple and rests his chin on your shoulder. “Don’t you have a girlfriend to bother?”

You decide not to point out that technically, he’s the one bothering his girlfriend. At least he deigns to help you scoop the batter into the cake pans. Later, when the cake is cooling on the table and your dad’s girlfriend Melissa arrives, music plays idly on your Victrola (Joel’s second gift to you) while the four of you lounge around your apartment. Your dad and Melissa occupy two plush green chairs, having shifted them closer to one another to hold hands. You’re on the sofa, surrounded by gift bags and Joel, whose lap you’ve taken residence on. He drums his fingers along each of your ribs as you delve into the gift bag from your father.

A delicate, beautiful necklace with your birth month’s gemstone embedded in the pendant (Melissa helped pick it out, he confesses). A bar cart he made himself. And a card with a neatly-written message inside:

There's a lot I could write here, but I want to keep it short and sweet, since we’d both rather be eating cake. I’ve loved you your whole life, but it was the first phone call that taught me how much of an idiot I really was. It’s easy to love someone like you. You're sweet, and you're smart, and you love so strongly. It’s a crazy feeling to be your dad. Kind of like looking right at the sun.

To all the years we’ll make up for. Let’s start with this one. I love you, kiddo.

—Dad

Melissa surprises you with a present she got herself: a culinary home garden kit, sprouting with the beginnings of basil, parsley, and cilantro. It doubles as a housewarming gift, she says with a tinge of pink on her cheeks. You have great light in here. And they smell great.

From Joel, his penultimate present: a French press machine.

You're unashamed of the happy tears you cry over their thoughtfulness. The card goes on your refrigerator; the herbs sit happily on the windowsill; your French press is tucked next to the bag of grounds Joel keeps in your place for when he drinks the light roasts you hate; the bar cart is filled with all the liquor Sonya gifted you; and Joel helps clasp the necklace around your throat, settling the pendant in its hollow while he litters kisses all over your shoulders and back.

That night, on the couch with your legs thrown over his lap, you and Joel sit face-to-face even though the darkness turns his features into a grainy half-image, you let out a long, happy sigh.

“Best birthday ever.”

“I don't know,” he says, his voice low and raspy, “mine was pretty damn good.”

“Mmm. But this time, you can fuck me.” You grin when his grip on your waist tightens where he's been skating his fingers up and down your curves.

“Yeah, I can.” Joel grins, ducking his head to kiss you. “Ain't over yet, baby. Gotta get into somethin’ pretty so I can take you out.”

His final present.

“This isn't pretty?” You lift up your flour-coated shirt to expose your tits.

Joel’s eyes hone in on them like they're beacons in the dark. He tugs you closer until he can situate you on his lap and take a nipple into his mouth. You gasp, your chest pushing out, giggling when he leaves a few teasing bites. “Okay,” you say breathlessly, “I learned my lesson.”

“Mmm-mmm,” he grumbles, blindly tearing your shirt off your head. His tongue circles each nipple and wets them generously, taking his sweet time with your body. His slow, deliberate pace has you writhing on his lap.

“Sam bought me the black dress I’ve been eyeing forever,” you tell him, trying to distract yourself from the onslaught of pleasing jolts to your core. “It’s a good option for a dinner.”

“Mhm,” is all he says, still lapping at your right nipple like he's a fucking cat.

“Assuming, of course, you're taking me somewhere nice. Are you?”

Joel opens his eyes and pins you with a stern look. Let me take control, he'd say, if his mouth wasn't full.

“I just”—you're cut off with a strained moan when he bites down again, a warning to stop worrying so much—“ah, fuck, forgot what I was about to say.”

Chuckling, he litters kisses up your sternum and nuzzles his face in the juncture of your neck and jaw. “Wear the black,” he says, inhaling your dark, sexy scent. “Can you be ready for eight?”

“Can you?” You stroke his hair away from his face as he rests comfortably against you. “This hair takes a long time to tame.”

“I’ll be ready.” He kisses your jaw and you feel his lashes tickle you as he closes his eyes and groans. “Just gonna have to jerk off first.”

You roll your eyes and pull away, giving him an affectionate smile before you disappear into your bedroom to change.

Joel showers before you so he can take care of his erection. You shimmy into the long, elegant dress, paint your lips, and meet him in the doorway to ask his help with your strappy heels.

As he slips the second shoe onto your foot, you tell him you love him.

For a moment, eyes meet in the dim light. The next, he's grinning, and telling you the exact same thing as he closes the straps around your ankles.

“Ow. Goddammit.”

“You gotta stretch out your back, honey.”

“This shit hurts. It ain't my fault.”

“Your position is all wrong.”

“Well, get over here and help me, then.”

You sigh, dropping from Warrior I so you can shuffle over to Joel. He’s trying, and you really love him for it, but it's no wonder he's in pain. You softly tut, placing a hand on his belly. “Picture your bellybutton going in toward your spine. It’ll take the pressure off. And don’t twist your torso to the side. You have to keep facing forward.”

“Jesus,” grumbles Joel, trying to fix his posture. “Too many rules. I thought you just made it all up.”

“Everything is made up. But this”—you gently press down and help align his spine properly—“will help. Your back will thank you.”

Joel huffs, refusing to admit that he feels the pressure on his lower back alleviate once you fix him up. “I deserve thanks for doin’ this shit with you.”

You grin, shifting around to the front of him so you can unbutton a couple buttons at the bottom of his flannel shirt, leaning in to leave a flurry of kisses over his soft belly. “And what kind of thanks are you looking for, Mr. Miller?”

Joel looks down his body at you. You're so cute, smiling up at him like you aren't inches away from his dick. “I can think of a few things.”

“You keep on thinking,” you tell him, “and we’ll get into the next position.”

He groans. “Can you at least do it naked? Jesus.”

“If you're good.” You button up his shirt again and move back to your yoga mat. “Ready?”

“You're a real fuckin’ tease, baby.”

“Tell me all about it, Joel.” You roll your eyes fondly, shifting onto your ass. “Follow my lead.”

Joel Miller is not flexible. He's remarkably capable of other feats, and he's never let this drawback affect him when it comes to your sex life, since he's usually twisting you into a pretzel. Still, you know this will be good for him. If you can get him to stop grumbling about it for a minute or two.

You press the soles of your feet together in front of you and straighten your back. “Just like this,” you say, watching him copy you. His eyes, however, are fixed on the space between your thighs.

You’re smart enough to understand when you need to take your lumps.

“Joel.”

“Hmm?”

“Do you want me to get naked?”

“Yeah.”

Maybe you'll try again another day. You’ve got all the time in the world.

THE END.

#kiwisbell's fics #whiskey sour #pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #tlou hbo #the last of us #the last of us fic

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loganlermanstanaccount · 1 year

Text

Meet the Millers (part 1)

Neighbourhood dilf!Joel Miller x Reader

(AO3 mirror) TLOU Masterlist

summary: Your neighbour, Joel Miller, has always caught your eye. After a perfect storm of events, you end up in his house. Or more accurately, in his bed.

warnings: pwp, at least half of this is just smut, fingering, grinding, squirting, dirty talk, eventual fwb, reader and Joel are oblivious asf, a bit of angst (bc i love any excuse for angst). 18+ Minors DNI

a/n: this will be a (short) series! lowkey just an excuse for me to write fwb!Joel lmao. Also, don’t look too closely: it's an au set in 2004 cuz I said so.

wc: 4k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He knows exactly what he's doing. Joel Miller on Mrs Harris’ porch, in a tank top and snug jeans, wiping the sweat of his brow. Fucking delicious in the hot summer air.

You're not watching, of course. Just…. checking the mailbox. It's not an excuse to see the way his arms ripple as he tugs at the cord of the lawnmower, or how his tanned back flexes in the sun. Nope. Not at all.

You sidle up to the mailbox, giving discreet glances at Joel on the porch opposite. The rip and roar of the lawnmower is so loud, you barely hear him call out to you.

"Hey neighbour!" He calls, giving you a wave. The hem of his shirt slides up to reveal his v-line. You make a point to keep your eyes upwards.

"Hey yourself!" You open up the mailbox to find a couple of letters. Perfect for pretending like you weren't ogling the man opposite a mere few metres away. Unbeknownst to you, he chuckles at your attempt to distract yourself from him. He thinks it's cute. He jogs across the road.

"I got something for you," Your eyes practically bulge out your head. "Think Sarah took your spare keys by accident." Oh. Oh. She'd been coming over to feed your cat for a couple weeks, whilst you were away. Procrastinating, as usual, you'd been putting off getting your keys back for the past week.

~~~

You'd moved in about six months ago. As someone who worked from home, you'd quickly built an odd routine. Joel was in the same boat: a contractor, working odd hours, some days at home and some days working from 8am to 8pm. As a new neighbour, you tried not to make a splash - quiet and respectful in the quiet Texan suburb. No kids, no husband - just you and your cat, Arlo.

You didn't ask for him in your life: sometimes seeing Joel in his yard or packing up his truck. Occasionally, you'd pass each other picking up the morning paper, or late at night after your runs. Sarah was the one to say hi first, complimenting your clothes just before a night out. You're waiting for a cab on the front porch when you see her.

"Hey neighbour!" She called, her dad behind her slamming the boot in a huff.

You wave back, dolled up in a little black dress and probably a little too much makeup. "Hey, yourself!"

She jogs towards you. "God, that is a cute dress! I've been bugging my dad for ages to let me get one just like it, where's it from?" She knocks you off guard, stuttering as you tell her the brand.

"Thanks, it's not too expensive either, and it has pockets ," Despite yourself, you give her a twirl, showing off its hidden feature.

"No freakin' way!" Sarah smiles warmly, hand on your arm and introduces herself. "Sarah. We met at the potluck a couple weeks ago."

You furrow your brow. "Oh, the Millers! Of course, you brought the veggie hotdogs and grilled kebabs."

She nods. "We haven't had the chance to say hi yet! My dad, Joel…" she turns to wave at the man who stands at the car, arms crossed like a gruff bulldog. "...he's not the friendliest. But Mrs Harris, next to us, says you came round and took a look at her computer. She said it was half dead and you fixed it up for her; you… work at a fancy tech company and you're really good at that stuff? So, I've got a weird question to ask."

"We were wondering if you could have a look at our new computer for us? I think we messed it up trying to set up and it keeps coming up with this blank blue screen…. no pressure of course! A-And we'll pay you in pancakes and coffee!" The young girl seems jittery, bouncing on the balls of her feet. You can't say no to her.

"S-sure. I've got some time, tomorrow morning. Let's say… after 9? If that's okay with your dad."

She squeals, almost knocking you over in a frantic hug. "Thank you, thank you! Dad? Dad, guess what…?"

She bounds off into her Dad's arms, excitedly babbling about your conversation. You chuckle to yourself in the light of the streetlamps. You'd noticed him around, of course. He's the only one on your street the same age as you: the rest were old and retired. At the potluck, he manned the grill, reserved but skilful. A man of few words, but Joel Miller laughed and smiled like a hyena around his daughter. It was sweet. You were happy to help.

The morning after, you felt rough, admittedly. Technically, you'd gone out for networking - strictly business. But one work drink turned into two, two turned into three; and then you were downing shots until 3 in the morning. The pounding headache at your temples seemed punishment enough. Shit. The time.

You get to Joel's at 15 past 9, impressive considering that you were in bed 10 minutes ago. You're dressed in a light sundress and slippers, standing on the doorstep. You knock, and Joel opens the door: scruffy and in a t-shirt and low gray joggers. There's the scruff of a 5 o'clock shadow on his face; making him look rugged and good in the morning light. You're imagining how it would feel on your thighs, rough beard scratching at the plush skin, dragging your sweet cunt on the apex of his nose…..

"Sarah's upstairs," He clears his throat, morning voice low and gruff.

"I'm not too early? Looks like I woke you up." You walk in and he points you up the stairs.

"S'alright sweetheart. It's not a bad view to wake up to."

You almost trip up the stairs at the implication. Joel's behind you, hand steady at the crook of your back to stop you from falling.

"I j-just meant getting our computer fixed. Sarah's been so excited and I'm not good at that kinda thing…"

"I get it. You're okay." You chuckle. He's beautifully flushed, hand snaking around the back of his neck to scratch at it nervously. "But is this all okay with you? She kinda ambushed me yesterday, and I can't make any promises-"

"-she tends to do that. She looks at you with those big brown eyes and then all of a sudden…." ...you're in your hot neighbour's house, on your hands and knees. To fix his computer, of course. "That's my Sarah. I'd be more scared if she wasn't my own."

You like her. She's buzzing through her door when you walk up the stairs, excited. She grabs your hand and leads you to Joel's office. "Morning! So, I've been fiddling around with the parts but I can't get her to turn on…"

"Her?" You laugh.

"Her name is Carol, and she's basically my kid." She kneels at the wires under the desk. "Dad had no clue how to set this up so, of course, I had to do everything. See, with this cord…"

She chatters as she explains her process. You find out she's funny, and bright: a smart young kid who sourced most of the materials herself. Frankly, she reminds you of yourself; a young upstart in college looking for an explosive new career. Under his desk, you trace the cables and explain what they all do, peeling back the clunky tower to find the source of the problem. Sarah listens, intently, asking you questions about how it all works - clearly inquisitive. Joel watches at the doorway, equally enraptured. The technical details all go over his head, but he softens when he sees Sarah so free with you. You laugh at her jokes and indulge all her questions, no matter how small. You are kind and patient with her, refusing to be patronising; engaging her at her own level.

When you finish up, Joel calls you downstairs for coffee and pancakes, as promised. Sarah races down the stairs, and you trail behind her. From the kitchen, Joel likes the way you look in his home, in a pretty dress and a smile on your face. He shakes the sudden thought out of his head.

"Dad, I swear to god, Lindsey's not gonna believe it. She told me about MySpace, but she didn't think I'd actually do it-"

"Lindsey? S'that the girl who came to your party, the one with the buck teeth?" He says, between mouthfuls of pancakes.

"That's Linda, Lindsey's-"

"The one in your math class, right? With the-" You put your hands up by head to mimic horns, pulling a face that makes her laugh. It makes him laugh, too.

It's been a couple of hours, when you get back home. You collapse on the couch, warm and content. It becomes the beginning of a gentle back and forth with the Millers.

~~~

"You alright there, sweetheart?"

You've spaced out on Joel's sofa. Joel’s by the kitchen island, rummaging around the drawers and running a lazy hand through his locks. With the way his arms flex and stretch with ease, you’re left practically drooling; head swimming with all the ways you could make his legs buckle, or how his hand would feel between your thighs, or…

He cocks his head to the side in amusement. “Think I lost you again.”

Embarrassed, you cringe into yourself. “Sorry, Joel. Just thinking.”

“....about?” He prompts.

“Work. Mostly.” You lie. “Sarah, too. Thinking about if she knows you whore yourself out to the neighbours like this.”

“I don’t know what you mean.” He keep his head down, pointedly.

“... I bet Mrs Harris enjoys the view, then.” You say it under your breath, but he hears and laughs. Quiet, at first and then roaring; laughing so hard tears form at his eyes.

“You're gonna kill me, sweetheart .” he laughs.

Time and time again, the pet name makes something at the pit of your stomach bubble. At first, you thought it was Southern hospitality, something you weren’t used to before moving down here. The doll’ s and the bless ‘yer heart ’s rolled off your back coming from everyone else; at the grocery store, grabbing lunch, at the bank. But coming from Joel : with a warmth that knocks you over every time? It would be the death of you, you’re sure.

“What’s she payin’ you, then?”

His back is turned now, head into the depths of a cupboard. “..just needed to get out the house. M’goin’ crazy in here.”

You hum. “It’s quiet downtown?”

“Too quiet. The Kier contract finished a while ago, and now m’just twiddling my thumbs waiting for another one to tide me over.” He peeks out from the wooden frame. “I think I’m actually bored without Sarah.”

You giggle. God, he was such a softie. A couple days of Sarah at a summer camp and Joel seemed to be bouncing off the walls already. It was cute, even if the deep furrows in his brow made him look so frustrated. “I think if she heard that she wouldn’t let me live it down.”

You’re up now, palms dragging along the surface of the counter, a grin as big as a dinner plate plastered on your face. “Wouldn’t it be such a shame if someone were to tell her…”

He stops, dead still. “You wouldn’t dare.”

You get a little closer. “I would.”

He narrows his eyes as you step closer, until the tips of your noses almost brush together. “You-”

“- would. ” You say, barely a whisper. Thick, long eyelashes frame the chocolate brown of his eyes: stormy, lidded. You can't help it, in the tension. Your own eyes flick towards his lips and you bite down words that are a little… inappropriate.

Instead, you tap the drawer by your hip and open it up to a tray of knick knacks. In the rough and tangle, your spare keys sit squarely in the nest. Joel grabs them and takes your hand, softly, to put them in your palm.

"You wanna stay? For a drink?"

You cut the air with melodious laughter. "It's 11am, Joel."

Indifferent, he shrugs. "I've got some beer in the fridge, and an empty house. Could do with some good company…"

"...why not?" You smile.

You sit on a battered loveseat outside, on his deck. The sun is shining, the sliding door open, and you're nestled in the cushions next to Joel. He sits closer than expected, a lazy arm draped on the back of the furniture and the other swigging a cold beer. You place yours in the gap of your lap, giggling at the way he clinks your bottles together. He makes you feel like a teenager, the meat of your thighs peeking out from your shorts and touching the cool glass.

"Didn't think I'd see you out this morning.

"And why's that?" You ask.

"Would'a thought you'd be nursing a pretty mean hangover." He shrugs.

"Ummm…?"

"I saw you last night," He explains. "Real late, stumblin' out of a taxi. You were wearing a different dress to the last time, so I just thought-"

"Well, last time it was work drinks."

"S'always work drinks, sweetheart." Your heart goes thud-thud. Sweetheart.

"Last night, it was a date." You see him clench his jaw and tense up slightly.

"...But?" He prompts, taking a long swig of his beer.

"But…" You sigh. "I got stood up."

He almost does a spit take, choking on his drink. His eyebrows are raised, confused. " Seriously? "

"Seriously." You deadpan. "Probably should've known. He sounded weird on the phone a couple of days before…"

"-He didn't call you right before your date?"

" God Joel , I know how it sounds, okay? Thought I was overreacting but I guess I'm not good at seeing red flags."

He deliberates for a moment. "Yeah, me neither."

It's your turn to be confused, and so he clarifies. "Sarah's mom."

Your mouth forms a silent Oh , in realisation. You put a hand on his arm, that flopped down by your side. "Was it just you and her in the beginning?"

"Me and Sarah? Sure feels like it." He mumbles. "But I wouldn't have it any other way."

"She's a good kid." You say softly. "You did good."

He grunts in affirmation before turning to you. "You're probably the smartest person I know. Sarah looks up to you for good reason. You dodged a bullet. That dickbag doesn't know what he's missing."

"Thanks, Joel." And then you titter, softly. "Would've been nice to get laid, though."

He makes a face you can't quite read, so you nudge him with your elbow. "Not like that! It's just been a while with work and-"

"You're okay, sweetheart." He smiles with a faraway look in his eyes. Unceremoniously, he downs the rest of his beer, and says something you don't quite hear.

"I could help with that." He tucks away your hair absentmindedly, and rests his hand by your cheek.

"Huh?" You almost splutter. It comes out like an unintelligible garble.

"I could make you feel good." A little louder this time, but low and sultry. The tips of his fingers brush your cheek. Honestly, it makes you short circuit, overloading your brain with a million ways to interpret his words. He takes your silence for a no.

Apologetically, he says, "Forget I said anythin’-"

You kiss him, impossibly soft at first. You lean into one another, gulping down air with the way your chest pounds. It could be the beer, or Joel, but you feel light-headed when you separate. He stays close, thumb on your chin and never once breaks eye contact.

"Need to hear you say it." He strains.

From your mouth comes the three words it feels like he's been waiting a lifetime for. You chew your lip, but without missing a beat you say what you both need to hear. " I want you ."

He crashes his lips to yours this time, sloppy and needy and desperate. You want to swallow him whole, warmth radiating off you both. You're not thinking when you clamber onto his lap, dragging your pussy on his jeans. Groaning, he separates like it's all too much.

" F-fuck, sweetheart. "

You're sure it's suggestive, in tiny sleep shorts and no bra, eaten up in a large t-shirt. The material of your panties have been swallowed up by your cunt, soaking wet. You need his hands on you, but he seems surprisingly chaste - having them rest on your back for now. Smiling into the kiss, you tug them lower and he squeezes the plush of your ass in response. You reward him with a moan and the delicious roll of your hips in his lap. Joel’s rock hard in his jeans, and you savor the feeling of it against your pussy.

“Want you to be more specific, doll. What do you want?” He pauses to nip at the juncture of your neck, leaving wet kisses in his wake. You can’t think properly with the way his hands knead at your hips and your ass; strong, rough palms brushing against your skin under your shirt.

Without thinking, you croak. “Y-your hands. Need your fingers in me.”

He groans, hips jumping up at your words, and then takes a moment with his head on your shoulder. Cursing, he lifts you up with ease so you're on his lap facing the garden.

He slaps a big palm on the crotch of your shorts, making you jump. One strong around your waist, the others strums at your clothed cunt - rubbing you until you're soaked through. You turn your neck as much as you can to suck hickeys into the base of his neck. Flushed, you realise just how exposed you two are: with the slatted wooden fence barely covering you from view. All your neighbours had to do was step out into their gardens to see you writhing on Joel's lap. Against all reason, the thought makes you wetter, and you whine.

Ever perceptive, Joel traces his hand around the waistband of your shorts. "You like this, don't you darlin'?"

You whine when he dips his hand lower, barely glancing your clit. "F-Fuck… don't know.. what you're talking 'bout."

His other hand snakes under your shirt, slowly but surely brushing against the apex of your nipples. "That someone could see us…"

"N-no, Joel-"

"That someone could see you fucked out on my lap like this. Like a dirty slut…"

"J-Joel-"

"Can't go saying my name like that, sweetheart. Someone might hear you," He wrenches your legs open with his knees and finally, finally, circles your clit quicker. " Fuck, fuuuck, listen to how wet you are f'me. Prettiest fuckin' whore this side of town.…you make the prettiest noises.."

It's not fair, really. He kneads at your tits, sending pleasure up your spine at the way he manhandles you. He slips a thick finger into your hole and you clench at the stretch. The bulge of his cock rocking into your ass, his fingers at your pussy, and a hand pawing at your tits? You had no chance.

"M'gonna cum, fuck , Joel m'gonna.."

"Cum for me, sweetheart."

His voice is low and tender, and pushes you off the edge. With a moan, your walls clamp down onto his finger, and you see white in the heat of your orgasm. It's been a while since you've cummed; usually a desperate hand in your pussy for a quickie every now and then; but the feeling is amplified 10 times as much with Joel whispering obscenities into your ear. You shake with the aftermath and pull him into a deep kiss.

"You ok?" He asks, the concern making you laugh after the filth he had been saying mere seconds ago. You nod, smiling warmly at him in the morning sun. He gives you another kiss and then you jump as he slips another finger in you.

"Wanna give you another one," Eyes lidded, he slows, waiting for permission. "And another, and another. As many as you'll let me."

You nod, gently, and he picks up the pace. His fingers go in and out of your sopping hole, thumb tightly on your clit. Joel's fingers are magical - unwavering and hitting all the right spots. He plays you like a guitar, listening for your moans and the way your body reacts - strumming this way and that to get you to orgasm. And you do, again, but gentler; bliss washing over you like the tide.

He's your neighbour, and you've never seen him like this: in a trance-like state, moulded into you and hellbent on your pleasure. All you can do is sink into his embrace, drunk on him and the way his lips taste - beer and breathmints - in the airy light of the morning.

He's coaxing you through your third orgasm when you feel it, a pressure just behind your swollen clit. Joel notices the way your legs shiver and the subtle shake of your hips.

"You're so beautiful." He says, pumping faster. "Knew it when I saw you in that little dress, tits spillin' out and I knew it when I saw you today. You look so good with my hand buried in your cunt, humpin' my lap like a bitch in heat..."

"J-Joel I can't…"

"You can, baby, jus' one more."

"I can't.."

"So, so close for me, please . Cum on my fingers f'me, sweetheart , please -"

With a sob, you clamp down on his fingers once more. Your orgasm ripples down your body, like a tight thread snapped in a split second. Liquid gushes from your cunt; so much his hand and your shorts are covered in it. Did you just…? The pressure at the base of your stomach peters off, and Joel talks you through it.

He covers you in kisses at the apples of your cheek, your forehead, anywhere he can reach. "Did so good f'me. You're such a good girl, baby."

You whine when he separates his hand from your slick. Groaning, he brings his fingers to his lips and licks them clean; of which his fervor makes you dizzy. All you can do is watch, exhausted but satisfied, through lidded eyes. He rubs your knee with his other hand.

"Let's get you cleaned up." Nonchalant, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. You bury your head in the crook of his shoulder, embarrassed at the mess you've made. Joel only laughs, squeezing you into a hug.

~~~

Simply put, he's a gentleman; making you feel completely at ease. He urges you towards a hot shower, with a change of clothes folded neatly by the door. It's his clothes - Sarah's were too small to fit - and they're big but familiar on your body. You traipse down the stairs in Joel's old sweats and a flannel, padding into the kitchen. Joel's at the hob, wearing a new t-shirt and loose tartan bottoms. You try not to think about how he was almost elbow deep in your pussy not too long ago. Or how he made you see stars more times in an hour than you have in months .

"Just made lunch." He stirs at the pot on the stove. You sidle up to him, close but careful. He dips in a finger to the sauce he's making. "Pasta. Think it's missing something, though."

Without thinking, you hold his hands to your lips and suck the sauce off his finger. "More salt, maybe?"

He looks a little dumbfounded. Oh. Oh. God, you can't help it when he looks like that, stormy and brooding and…

"More salt it is, then. You could help me finish it? I can put on a movie or somethin’."

You want to, you really do. It would be like heaven with your head on Joel Miller's shoulder, on the sofa - seeing him soft and domestic . Like a relationship.

"I should head home, I think." You don't exactly know the etiquette for one night stands. "Next time."

To be honest, you didn't even know if this counted as a one night stand? Just sex? Friends with benefits? Would there even be a next time?

His smile seems rueful for a second before he nods.

"Next time, sweetheart."

#HE'S SOOOO #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x reader #joel tlou #joel miller #tlou x reader #tlou fic #tlou #tlou smut #joel miller smut #fwb #pwp #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal x reader #kat_writes😼

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loonmartell · 3 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

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