#no outbreak au
Text
Butter
Joel Miller x F!Reader
{ Main Masterlist }
Rating: None
Summary: What if Joel doesn't forget to buy himself a cake for his birthday? But by the time he remembers, all the bakeries in his neighbourhood are closed - except yours.
Warnings: No outbreak AU, pure fluff, mentions of baking and food, meet cute, some sexual tension but very mild stuff compared to my other fics, single dad!Joel being a sexy menace, reader has a nickname related to her job, reader has an accent similar to Joel, very lightly edited, not my best work, but I'm in my writing for fun era 💁🏻♀️
Word count: 3.6k
Notes: It's here! This was an exercise in speed writing, and just putting words to paper without overthinking anything. I really enjoyed writing this sweet little piece, this is dedicated to @psychedelic-ink who has been the biggest cheerleader for this idea since day one. Happy birthday to our favourite single dad who never lived through a cordyceps outbreak ❤️
September 26, 2003 was supposed to be a good day.
It’s Friday, after all. Not that the weekend is relevant to you anymore, with Saturdays and Sundays being the busiest days for business. But you have a date for once tonight, and you’re determined to enjoy it.
If you can get the goddamn security shutter to close, that is.
Standing on your tiptoes, you pull futilely at the bottom of the metal shutter with both hands, but it refuses to budge. You lament the sweat seeping through the fabric of the nice dress you changed into, the hem reaching almost indecent heights on the back of your thighs where it’s climbed up. And you don’t have to look at your reflection to know that stress has already smudged the edges of the eyeliner you hurriedly painted on as soon as you got the last customer out the door.
You can be forgiven for not noticing the wash of yellow headlights over the windows of the shop front and the sound of rolling tyres as a truck pulls up on the curb outside the bakery, until a gravelly voice pipes up behind you alongside hurried footsteps.
‘Ma’am, please tell me you’re still open.’
You tap on the ‘Closed’ sign through the window without turning around, determined to wrangle the shutter into submission. ‘Bad luck buddy, come back tomorrow. We open at nine sharp.’
‘No I can’t, I’m so sorry, but I need a cake now.’
Curiosity turns your head, and over your shoulder, you find a broad-shouldered man in a dark tshirt and casual jeans standing a respectful four paces away. Under eyebrows sloping downwards in a pleading angle that matches the slant of his moustache, his warm and imploring eyes are on you.
‘I’m sorry, sir, but I really need to go,’ you say. ‘Can you give me a hand?’
‘Look, I’ll do you one better. I’ll fix the shutter for you for free - if you sell me a cake.’
You purse your lips, the prospect of saving on what looks like an inevitable repair bill tempting. ‘You can fix it?’
‘I’m a contractor,’ he replies, reaching into his back pocket to pull out a battered looking wallet. ‘Here’s my card, if you think I’m bluffin’.’
Miller & Associates is printed in bold across the top, and underneath, is presumably his name and cell number. Glancing up at him, you say, ‘Look, Mr. Miller, I really want to help, but I’m late for a date, and I’m all sold out of cakes today -’
‘I’ll take anything you got. Cupcakes, cookies, whatever you have left,’ he cuts in, then apologises in quick succession, one hand rubbing the back of his neck. ‘I’m sorry to be so pushy - I’m not, usually - but I promised my daughter I’d bring something home, and by the time I remembered, this is the only place I could think of. Please.’
You feel the exact moment your resolve crack, and then fold like a goddamn lawn chair. What can you say, this contractor really knows how to work those puppy eyes, and you can never say no to a man who refuses to let their kid down.
Especially when the man looks like this.
Shooting off a text to your date to push back your dinner plans, you nod towards the door. ‘Alright. C’mon in, Mr. Miller.’
‘Nice place you got here,’ he remarks politely, hovering by the entrance as the fluorescent lights flicker on, his manners impeccably southern.
‘You don’t have to flatter me, I’ve already let you in,’ you joke, lips quirking at the way he flusters. ‘But I appreciate it. You been here before?’
When he smiles, you notice the corners of his eyes crinkle charmingly. ‘No, but I know I’ll be comin’ back.’
‘I wasn’t lying when I said I was out of ready-made cakes,’ you tell him, holding the door open to the kitchen so he can come in after you. ‘But I have some cake layers in the fridge so I can put together something fairly quickly.’
He ducks his head in a manner that tells you he’s not used to demanding things, and protests, ‘I don’t want to put you out. I meant it, if you just have some cupcakes or somethin’ -’
‘Listen, you promised your daughter a cake, didn’t you?’ you interrupt.
He shrugs. ‘Well, yeah I did -’
‘I’m guessin’ it’s for a birthday?’
He nods sheepishly. ‘It is.’
‘Well, as a baker, ‘mfraid I can’t let a cakeless birthday happen on my watch, Mr. Miller,’ you insist, opening the fridge door with a flourish. ‘Let’s see what we have here. Cake for three, I assume?’
‘Two, actually.’
Hopefully you’re as discreet as you think you are when your eyes drop to his left hand - his fourth finger is conspicuously ringless.
Interesting.
You hum, considering the mismatched options in your inventory. ‘It’s gonna be a bit of a Frankenstein’s monster of a cake, if you don’t mind. How does chocolate and vanilla layers with cookies and cream frosting sound?’
‘Sounds perfect,’ he answers without skipping a beat. ‘Thank you, ma’am.’
You shake your head, hands full of cake rounds wrapped in cling film as you nudge the fridge close. ‘Please, call me Bri, Mr. Miller.’
‘And you can call me Joel,’ he says in return. ‘Is Bri short for somethin’?’
Laying the cakes on the work surface, you reply, ‘Yeah, Bri for brioche, like the bread. It's a silly nickname.’
The single dad surprises you with a low whistle. ‘Can’t say I saw that comin’.’
You grin. ‘You ain’t seen nothin’ yet, Joel.’
You don’t often have an audience while baking, and you find yourself talking Joel through the steps while you prep everything for assembly.
Swirling a spatula through the tub of buttercream you made earlier that day, you explain, ‘I just need to whip up some of this frosting so that it’s nice and soft for putting the cake together. You wanna help me break up some Oreos so we can make it cookies and cream?’
‘I’m all yours, chef,’ he says, one corner of his mouth curling into a teasing smile that has no business warming the apples of your cheek as it does. ‘Just tell me what to do.’
While your Kitchenaid whirrs to life, whipping air into the buttercream, Joel wields a rolling pin, smashing a generous helping of Oreos into crumbs in a Ziplock bag. The almost exaggerated care with which he moves speaks to inexperience in the kitchen, and you muse that either his kid makes up for it in that department, or they live off takeout.
Eventually, he picks up the bag and looks at you in a question. ‘I think I’m done?’
You smile and tap the lip of the mixing bowl. ‘That’s perfect. Why don’t you tip in the crumbs straight in here?’
Before you can step back to allow him space, Joel’s taken two strides towards you, and his arm brushes your shoulder when he lifts the bag and tilts the contents into the frosting. He’s warm and solid, and damnit, he smells good - like sawdust and sweat.
The thought comes to you unbidden - what a man.
There’s a lull, and only when you feel the weight of eyes on you do you realise that you missed his question.
‘Did you say somethin'?’ you squeak, embarrassed.
‘I said, is this ok?’ he repeats, nodding at the mixing bowl.
You nearly stumble over your words. ‘Yes, yes it’s perfect.’
He watches you closely, a touch of concern in his brown eyes. ‘You ok there, honey?’
‘Yup,’ you chirp, far too cheerfully. ‘Just need to mix it all up now -’
If you had your wits about you, you would stir in the crumbs first and set the machine on low. But this man somehow stole said wits by sheer proximity to you, and you accidentally start the Kitchenaid on high, an indignant yelp escaping you when Oreo dust flies aggressively out of the bowl along with a splatter of white buttercream that lands squarely on the front of your dark knit dress.
‘Oh shit!’ you cry out, frantically turning off the mixer. ‘Shit shit shit!’
Over your panicked mantra, Joel is calmness itself. ‘Hang on, honey, I gotcha.’
He makes a beeline towards the sink, grabbing a tea towel and wets it under the tap with a bit of dishwashing liquid. It all screams competent single dad, and you find yourself staring at his unfairly large hand, mapped with thick veins, holding out the damp towel for you to take.
‘Thanks,’ you stutter self-consciously, the tips of your ears hot while swiping at the stain. ‘That was a rookie mistake. I promise I’m actually a good baker.’
He gives you a wink to put you at ease. ‘Don’t worry, I believe you.’
Starting over, the mixer hums as it gently incorporates the Oreos until the buttercream is a speckled grey and doubled in volume. ‘Looks like it’s ready. You wanna taste, Joel?’
‘Sure,’ he says. ‘D’ya have a spoon or somethin’ for me?’
‘You can use your fingers,’ you reply, and it's too late to take it back.
You feel the back of your neck heating up when he shoots you a meaningful look, just a touch of mischief in the tilt of his lips.
‘Can I, now?’ he teases.
You try a nonchalant shrug that probably comes off as painfully awkward. ‘This batch is just for you, I won’t tell the health inspector if you don’t.’
Joel chuckles, his strong shoulders quaking. And so you watch, shamelessly, as he raises his right hand, index and middle fingers at the ready, before diving into the metal bowl, scooping up a generous dollop of buttercream. There’s a peek of his pink tongue when his plush lips part, and then he sucks his fingers into his mouth with a gratuitously loud moan, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows.
When he turns to you with a pained expression on his face, maintaining eye contact all the while licking an errant streak of frosting off the side of his middle finger, you gape at him for a whole five seconds before you manage to unstick your tongue from the roof of your mouth.
‘Good?’ you barely manage to squeak.
‘You betcha, honey,’ he declares, then adds, ‘Mind if I double dip?’
He doesn’t mean anything by it, you know it, but a hot flush runs through your body and you swallow thickly. ‘You can do whatever you want, cowboy.’
You don’t think you’re imagining the wicked glint in his answering stare - you’re getting yourself into trouble, and don’t you know it.
Clearing your throat, you attempt to thwart your mind's dangerous descent into the gutter by changing the subject. ‘So, I can do somethin’ really snazzy that I think your daughter would like - do you know what a piñata cake is?’
He shakes his head. ‘Sounds dangerous.’
‘Hardly,’ you chuckle. ‘It’s a cake filled with sprinkles, so when you cut into it, it’s a sprinkles surprise!’
He lets out a playful sigh of relief. ‘As long as there’s no whackin’ involved, it’s good by me.’
You gesture at him to follow you across the room. ‘And here’s the fun part - you get to choose the sprinkles.’
Joel whistles at the reveal of your compulsively organised sprinkles cabinet, each shelf sorted by colour, shape and size. He quips, ‘Is this what the inside of your brain looks like, honey?’
You grin. ‘Pretty much. What’s your daughter’s name?’
‘Sarah.’
‘What colour does Sarah like?’
‘Any and all shades of pink.’
‘I can work with that.’
Now that everything is ready and waiting on the work surface, you pull out a lazy Susan and plonk a cake board on top of it, dusting your hands dramatically. ‘Alright, Joel. Ready for the magic to happen?’
Making himself comfortable next to you, he leans on his elbows, and your eyes are immediately drawn to the way his tshirt stretches and strains over his back. ‘Go ahead, I’m ready to be impressed, honey.’
Filling a piping bag full of the cookies and cream buttercream, you ask, ‘You wanna get your hands dirty?’
He raises his palms in surrender. ‘I’ll leave it to you, I don’t want to make you any more late for your date.’
You’re used to working with much bigger cakes, so this one doesn’t take you long. With a cookie cutter, you carve out a small circle from each cake round, then you stack and fill the layers with buttercream. After loading the shaft in the middle with all manner of pink sprinkles, you stopper the top with the cake cut-outs.
‘How old is Sarah turning today?’ you ask conversationally while you spin the cake around, smoothing on the crumb coat.
Joel looks up, surprised. ‘Oh, it’s my birthday today, not hers. ‘
‘Wait, what?’ you cry, throwing your hands up. ‘I made this cake with Sarah in mind - it will literally be vomiting pink sprinkles!’
‘I’m a girl dad. I like pink,’ shrugs Joel easily.
You huff, using an icing smoother to make sure the buttercream is even all over the cake. ‘I would pop the cake into the freezer to firm up before adding a final layer of frosting if I had the time, but this will have to do.’
‘It looks great,’ Joel assures you as you put the finishing touches to the cake, with buttercream swirls all around the top and a final baptism of sprinkles.
‘There, all done. Lemme box it up for you and this bad boy is ready to go.’
‘Amazin’, thank you so much,’ he grins. ‘Please, lemme do the washin’ up while you’re at it.’
‘Oh, Joel, you can’t,’ you protest, but he’s already grabbed the mixing bowl and all the bits and bobs stained with buttercream. ‘You’re the birthday boy!’
‘Least I can do,’ he shoots back over his shoulder, already halfway to the sink.
‘Well no, you promised to fix the security shutter for me, remember?’ you call after him.
‘Damn, I was hopin’ you’d forgotten about that.’
Joel cleans up with a practised air, humming under his breath as he waits for the water to heat up and the soap to lather. You watch him from the corner of your eye while you secure the cake inside the box, throwing in a birthday candle for good measure. You’ve just tied a nice ribbon around the cardboard box when he puts away everything in the drying rack and wipes his hands dry.
‘Didn’t expect you to be good at that,’ you tease, moving towards the door.
‘Sexist much?’ he jokes, no real bite in his retort. Then by way of explanation, he tells you, ‘I work late, so Sarah usually cooks and I wash up afterwards.’
‘Sounds like you guys make a good team.’
Joel helps with the lights and locks the door, and you stand to one side when he grabs the security shutter and forces it into submission by brute force. You can’t help but stare when the bottom of his tshirt rides up, revealing a soft sliver of belly underneath, his biceps bulging and back rippling as the shutter is finally forced shut in a metallic ripple.
You give him a smile. ‘Well, happy birthday, Joel.’
‘Thanks again for the cake.’ He looks around, as if looking for your car, but the sidewalk is empty except for his truck. ‘How are you gettin’ to your date?’
‘I was just gonna call a taxi.’
‘No, you ain’t,’ he nods towards his ride. ‘C’mon, I’ll give you a lift.’
‘Oh, no, it’s late, and you should be getting back to Sarah -’
‘I spoiled your date, so please, let me,’ he insists, holding the door open on the passenger side. Hop in.’
Joel takes the cake off your hands and puts it in the backseat carefully, putting the seat belt over it while you climb in. Glancing over your shoulder, you see toolboxes and newspapers on the floor, and it smells like paint and wood dust.
‘Sorry it’s a bit messy, occupational hazard,’ he apologises as he straps himself in. ‘So, where are we goin’?’
‘Do you know the steakhouse on Third Street?’
‘Vaguely,’ he replies, pulling smoothly away from the curb. ‘It sounds fancy.’
‘You been?’
‘Nope, I barely have time to go anywhere nowadays. It seems like I’m only ever in bed, or at work, or in my truck.’
You turn to smile at him, admiring the way his his thick fingers around the top of the steering wheel, making it look so small. ‘I feel you. Small business owner, am I right?’
‘I hear ya,’ he shoots you a smile. ‘So - what’s the deal with tonight? First date?’
‘Fourth, actually.’
He wriggles his eyebrows suggestively. ‘Fourth date? You know what happens on a fourth date, honey.’
‘I don’t, actually. Tell me, what happens on a fourth date?’
He blows out his cheeks, and admits, ‘Honestly, I can’t tell ya. I haven’t been on a fourth date since 1991.’
You burst into laughter at his unexpected answer. ‘You’re such a dork, Joel Miller.’
When the truck rumbles to a stop outside the steakhouse ten minutes later, he looks at his watch and announces, ‘Here we are, only fifteen minutes late.’ Squinting through the windshield, he points at a man smoking outside, an impatient frown on his face. ‘That him?’
‘Yeah, that’s him,’ you nod, but you stay put in your seat, in no hurry to make a move.
Joel nods, tapping his tidily trimmed nails on the steering wheel. ‘So I’ll swing ‘round tomorrow after work with my toolbelt? ‘Round six thirty?’
‘A toolbelt? What a sight to look forward to,’ you rib, slowly reaching for the seatbelt and unbuckling it.
‘Hell yeah, it’s got a special clip for my Nokia and all,’ he adds mischievously.
'You must fend off the ladies by the dozen,' you tease.
'Daily,' he answers without skipping a beat.
You probably shouldn’t have, especially not with the guy who you’re supposed to be on a date with glaring daggers at you through the windshield. But there’s something cackling in the air between you and this man you just met not an hour ago, and the way the streetlight filters through the window, backlighting his messy curls and scraggly beard, that has you throwing caution to the proverbial wind.
Impulsively, you lean across the gear shift, your left hand finding purchase on his knee before pressing your lips to the side of his whiskered jaw, your kiss fitting right into that little heart-shaped patch on his beard.
You’re not sure who’s more taken aback, but you don’t have time to find out.
‘Happy birthday, Joel Miller.’
He smiles after you as you hop out of his truck.
You’ve just sold your last cupcake of the day when the bell over the bakery door rings. And sure enough, it’s Joel Miller crossing the threshold, right on the dot at six thirty.
‘Hey, Bri,’ he waves, hovering half-in and half-out of the shop, a slight awkwardness having set in overnight.
But it's ok, you're happy to pick up where you left off. Putting your hands on your waist and a cheeky grin, you quip, ‘Wow, you weren’t kidding about that toolbelt, huh?’
Your chest swells as you watch him thaw with an easy smile, and he banters back, ‘I’m a man of my word, honey. You ok with me gettin’ to work now?’
‘Yes, thank you. I’ll be cleanin’ up back in the kitchen, I’ll join you when I’m done.’
Joel shoots you a thumbs up. ‘Great. I’ll grab the ladder and get right to it.’
When you emerge fifteen minutes later, he’s on the fourth rung of the ladder, tinkering the rolling mechanism with a screwdriver and a studious frown on his brow. He looks like he’s wearing the same thing as yesterday - you can believe that he’s a man who buys the same tshirt in bulk - and he smiles at you when you duck out of the shop.
‘Did Sarah like the cake?’ you ask in casual conversation.
‘She went nuts over the piñata surprise,’ he replies. ‘And the cake was delicious, there were hardly any crumbs left when we were done with it. She says we’re definitely ordering a cake from you for her birthday.’
‘I like the sound of that.’
‘How was your evening?’ he asks, glancing down at you from his perch. ‘Did you find out what happens on a fourth date?’
You let out a dry laugh. ‘Yeah, I did, actually. He dumped me.’
Joel freezes, a scowl darkening his countenance. ‘Oh shit, what? Why?’
You shrug, leaning your weight on the ladder as you look at the ground. ‘I mean, I did show up an hour late in some other guy’s truck. And I guess probably shouldn’t have kissed you on the cheek right in front of him.’
You startle when Joel’s fingers slip under your chin, tilting your head up towards him. ‘It’s all my fault. I’m so sorry.’
‘Honestly, you don’t look that sorry, Joel Miller,’ you joke.
He cocks his head to one side. ‘Well, I can't lie, I think you deserve better than him.’
‘Do you now?’ you prompt. ‘Who do you have in mind?’
Joel peers at you from under long lashes with a half-smile that's almost shy. He dodges your question, and says instead, ‘I didn't mean to ruin your night, let me make it up to you, honey.’
‘How?’
Deftly, he climbs down the ladder, landing squarely on two booted feet, his presence comforting as he looms over you, his eyes warm. ‘Can I buy you dinner?’
‘Like - a date kind of dinner?’
‘Yeah, like a date,’ he nods.
You can’t help the dig. ‘And you were just sayin' you haven’t been on a date since...?’
He flashes you a smirk, and you shiver when his hand brushes your waist. ‘Since 1991. Tough sell, I know - but I thought I’d give it a shot.’
Running a finger along his sharp jawline, softened by the endearingly untidy beard, you have to bite your bottom lip to keep yourself from giving away too wide a grin. ‘Why, I think I have a good feelin’ about you, Joel Miller.’
Catching your wrist in his fingers, he presses a sweet kiss to your knuckles, the rough graze of his stubble chasing goosebumps across your skin as his eyes smile at you. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow then, honey.’
More notes: I hope you enjoyed this sweet little oneshot 🥰 I really leaned into the fluff and I have no regrets. Comments/reblogs/asks are much appreciated as always! I don't have plans for a second part right now, but a smutty follow-up is always a possibility...
The adorable dividers are by @firefly-graphics 👩🏻🍳
#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x you#joel miller x reader#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x fem!reader#the last of us fanfiction#joel miller imagine#no outbreak au#joel miller oneshot#the last of us oneshot#fuckyeahshorts
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Unfair
no outbreak!joel miller x fem!reader
an au about Joel attending a wedding simply inspired by Pedro's slutty little fit at the SAG awards.
part 2
tw: age gap (late 20s/late 40s), fingering, oral (f receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, alcohol, she/her pronouns, reader has hair long enough to twist around her finger, Joel is probably poorly written in this, and this whole thing is a little poorly written.
word count: 7.2k
MDNI
masterlist
–
Your mom was smiling as you zipped her into her gown, the chiffon and lace dress gorgeous on her as you fastened the eyelet closed at the top of the bodice. You could feel the lens of the photographer’s camera trained on you both, the woman having been with you the entire morning to document the process of the bridal party getting ready.
The photographer was fluttering around the room, taking candid photos of you all making small talk and toasting mimosas. The posed photos had been earlier that morning, you all wearing your matching silk robes with your names screen-printed on the back. You didn’t know how much had been spent on the whole production–but it certainly wasn’t cheap. But, to see your mom glowing and her wide smile all morning, every penny must have been more than worth it.
Before you realized, you all wore dresses and bouquets of white flowers with magnificent greenery were being thrust in your hands. The wedding planner was ushering everyone out onto the stone walkway to the barn, women finally meeting men just outside the farmhouse turned wedding venue. The best man looked vaguely familiar to you as you placed your hand in the crook of his elbow to walk down the aisle, he must have been Shawn's eldest brother.
The officiant droned: he just repeated the same platitudes of what it means to love one another and be good spouses. You tried to stay focused, your eyes inevitably wandering. The ceremony space was picturesque: southern live oaks casting shadows in the late autumn sun as they married in front of the barn. It really couldn’t get more Texas than that, especially when you counted the number of cowboy hats in the crowd.
You could feel someone staring at you for the better part of the ceremony, making you glance out of the corner of your eye as you tried to find the source. Every fiber of you wanted to turn and look in earnest, but you knew that you’d ruin the photos as soon as your body twisted and your happy, grinning face wasn’t facing the bride and groom on the best day of their lives.
Your grip tightened around the bouquet in your hands as your skin crawled, your focus so jarred that you almost missed your cue to walk out. The cheers and clapping woke you from your reverie before the best man had to. Grasping him by the elbow, you walked back up the aisle between the celebrating wedding guests, the feeling of being watched now fading to the background.
—
When you finally made it to the renovated barn, you were starving and in desperate need of a drink. The photos had run long, the photographers getting you all in a variety of line ups and poses. It was almost time for the plated dinner to begin, guests settling at assigned tables after a cocktail hour and the live band playing quiet music in the corner of the half-inside half-outside space that would eventually serve as the dance floor.
The orange lighting from string lights along the ceiling was soft, mismatched Edison bulbs hanging along zigzagged wires from wooden rafters. It painted the guests and decor in gold tones, making everything look sepia like an old photo.
With your double shot vodka tonic in hand, you found your name written in gold calligraphy on the seating chart. Your mom and her new husband were sitting together at a small table at the front of the room, a faux-neon sign behind them that displayed his last name. Well, their last name now.
You were at one of the front tables, the ivory table cloth nearly brushing the shiny wooden floor as you plucked your name card off your plate and sat down. There were only a few people you knew at the wedding, neighbors from the neighborhood you grew up in and a handful of your mother’s coworkers. But, they were seated elsewhere.
Some of the seats on the opposite side of the sprawling white and green centerpiece were occupied with strangers in flamboyant cowboy hats and boots, an obvious sign they were from out of town. You smiled politely as you sat down, taking a long sip of your drink as you checked your phone for the moment of downtime.
“This seat taken?” A deep, twangy voice made your gaze cut away from the screen and up to the right. You were immediately dumbstruck by how handsome the man was, his umber colored eyes reminding you of the sunlight hitting the tree trunks during the ceremony. A few of his dark brown curls were falling on his tanned forehead, the rest of his hair loosely pushed back.
You floundered for a moment, lips parting and no words coming out of your mouth. Finally you caught up, blinking a few times. The place card in front of the ornate gold and white place setting next to yours was your saving grace. “Well, uh, if you’re Joel M., the seat is all yours,” you said, looking back up at him.
God, you hoped he was Joel.
He smiled, the lines on his face becoming a bit more defined as he extended a hand toward you. “Joel Miller, nice to meet you…” he trailed off, waiting for your assistance.
You slipped your hand into his, his calloused palm engulfing yours as he shook it politely. You introduced yourself, neck craned back so you could look him in the eye. He released your hand and sat down, setting the glass he was holding next to yours on the table cloth.
“So how do you know the couple?” Joel asked you, his gaze dragging over you. You tried not to squirm under the weight of it, your face feeling hot as you set your phone face-down on the table. The way he looked at you made you feel like a bug caught under a microscope.
“The bride is my mom,” you said, fiddling with the elegantly folded cloth napkins for a moment. You glanced at her briefly, watching her giggle at something Shawn had said.
Joel nodded, a huff of a laugh following. “No shit, so you’re the stepdaughter?” he asked, an eyebrow raised as a smirk lifted the corner of his lip. One of your eyebrows lifted of its own volition, his reaction catching you off guard.
“Do I have a reputation?” A sip of your drink helped wet your dry tongue, your eyes trained on him over the rim of your glass. There was a spike of anxiety in your chest, the temporary fear that he’d heard something bad about you filling your mind. You held your glass in your hand as you crossed your legs at the ankle, waiting for his response.
Joel paused to take a drink, a hand scrubbing over his beard as he looked back at you. He shook his head, waving a hand in a way that was meant to be placating. “Shawn told me about you, said you just moved back to town a few months ago.”
“Um, yeah, actually. Moved back from Denver,” you said, bashful that the subject of you even came up. You hadn’t realized that you were important enough in Shawn’s life to mention, especially to his friends. Of course, there wasn’t animosity between the two of you, just what you assumed was limited interest. Most men didn't bother to learn too much about their adult stepchildren.
You were both leaning forward as you spoke, the music and chatter of the other guests making the barn a little too loud to hear one another clearly at a distance. He was looking down at his drink, giving you an opportunity to study his profile. Joel was easily twenty years your senior, the dark beard on his jawline threaded through with patches of silver hair.
“So—“ Joel started, getting cut off by the shuffle of the last people to their seats and an arm thrust between the two of you. The waiters serving the plated dinner made you sit upright in your chair, the soft fabric of your dress fluttering as you put some space between Joel and yourself.
You didn’t realize how hungry you were until you took the first bite of your food, a sigh escaping you as your eyelashes batted against your cheeks. Conversation floated around your head, you caught polite questions about Joel’s construction business and half-assed replies.
For some reason your mother had put you at a table full of Shawn’s friends, maybe in an attempt to help you get to know him better.
“So you’re a contractor?” you asked after your hunger had been satiated. You’d gotten a refill on your drink from one of the waiters, nursing a fresh vodka tonic as you looked at Joel.
He chewed his steak methodically, nodding as he turned slightly to look at you. “Been building houses for years, my brother, Tommy, works with me,” Joel said after he swallowed, taking his cloth napkin off his wide thigh to wipe the corner of his mouth.
“Do you like it?” you asked after a moment of contemplation, tilting your head to one side as you looked at him.
There was something about him that kept you smiling, your lips curved like a bow as you sipped your drink from the straw. You studied his features while you could, his aquiline nose and his full lower lip intriguing. Way too intriguing for someone who was your stepfather’s friend.
“Pays the bills, keeps the roof over me and Sarah’s heads.” Joel finished his plate, picking up his drink and leaning back in his seat.
Sarah? Your eyes dropped to his left hand, not seeing a ring on any of the fingers. Not even a tan line. He noticed it, making your face burn as he chuckled. “Sarah? Your…”
“Daughter,” he cut in helpfully. Daughter, he had a daughter. You exhaled, relieved. But, did he have a wife? No ring, never mentioned her. He would’ve brought her up by now. She would've attended the wedding with him. You chewed the inside of your cheek for a moment, taking a breath as you rationalized.
Your mouth opened to ask another question when glasses were chimed and dinner was cleared away. Champagne flutes were passed around, and to your horror you realized it was time for your toast. You stood in a fluid motion, adjusting your gown and your hair before heading toward the microphone next to the table with the bride and groom.
–
You spent the rest of the night getting drunk. Champagne became cocktails and cocktails became shots–all with your mother and new stepfather and family and friends from your childhood. Tipsiness made you remove your heels, kicking them off to the side to a forgotten corner as your aching feet pressed against the polished floor.
The dance floor was cramped, the band having transitioned partway through the night to someone’s phone with a playlist hooked up to the speakers. You watched your mom laugh as she was spun around by her new husband, making you smile as you nursed your glass of wine.
“You lost something.” Joel approached, pointing to your strappy heels with a lazy finger.
You grinned, your teeth digging into your lower lip for a moment as you looked up at him. “Looks like you did, too–a few things actually,” you said, nodding toward his shucked suit jacket and tie. The top few buttons of his white shirt were open, revealing just enough of his tanned chest to feel dangerous. He was more disheveled than before, a chilled beer bottle held loosely in his fingers and his cheeks flushed.
Joel chuckled, taking a step closer to you as he took a long drink from his beer. You watched his Adam’s apple bob in his throat as he swallowed, taking a sip of your red wine in tandem.
There was something about this man that had you all kinds of flustered, a giddy lightness in your chest when he focused his attention on you. “So why aren’t you out there dancing?” Joel asked, his warm eyes surveying the dance floor before returning.
You shook your head, a demure smile and a shrug. “Never was much of a dancer.” The last time you really danced was wasted at a frat party in college, the lights low and the music making the house shake. Far from a respectable barn wedding, and definitely not your mother’s respectable barn wedding.
“That’s a shame,” Joel smiled at you, pressing just a bit closer, “a pretty girl like you should be out there.”
You were surprised by the compliment, nearly choking on your wine as your eyebrows lifted. Joel was smirking, his whole body leaning toward yours. You were warm to the touch, your entire face burning under his attentions. It felt like you were in high school again, pining after some older boy that you assumed would never look at you twice–but here he was, looking.
“Do you always flirt with your friend’s stepdaughters?” you asked, hoping to come off as hard to get. Realistically, he already had you in the palm of his hand.
Joel pursed his lips, something mischievous flashing in his dark eyes for a moment. “Just the ones that look like you,” he said, his deep voice low. It was almost too quiet to hear over the music, making you shift forward so you could hear him better.
“Joel.” It would've been chastising if it wasn’t for your bright smile. He exuded an easy confidence that was magnetic, it had your nerves on fire as you selfishly hoped that he would do more than just flirt with you. Your gaze was on his lips for a moment, taking in the lines of his full bottom lip and tidy mustache before meeting his eyes again.
“The couple is getting ready to leave!” You both looked toward the door and watched the wedding planner usher guests out the barn doors. Sparklers were thrust in everyone’s hands, the photographer already positioned at the end of the walkway near the rented white Rolls Royce.
Joel’s hand found the small of your back, warm through the thin fabric of your dress as he guided you toward the door. The wedding planner handed him two sparklers, the long kind that wobbled under their own weight.
The guests had divided into two lines, waiters lighting sparklers on either side of the column created. Joel handed you one as you stood at his side, your bare feet on the warm concrete. You held it out from your body, focused on the bright sizzle of the sparks as they made their way down the lines of powder.
Your mother and Shawn walked through the column of sparklers on cue, laughing and smiling while holding hands. They looked so happy. You could hardly imagine being that happy with someone.
She broke off for a moment to embrace you, making Joel thoughtfully pluck the sparkler out of your fingers so you didn’t burn her.
Tears pushed at your eyelids, overwhelming joy for your mother finally breaking free of your chest. You whispered ‘I love you’s into one another’s ears and pressed kisses to cheeks as you clung to each other. The photographer’s camera was shuttering nearby, catching every intimate moment.
Finally you let her go, tearful and smiling as Shawn pulled her toward the car that would take them to their hotel. Joel’s large hand found the curve of your waist, bringing you to his side as you watched your mother get into the car.
You were tipsy enough to allow it.
He was warm, smelling like cigar smoke and whiskey and cologne. You both were quiet as you watched the car pull away, your shoulders fitting in the space between his arm and torso.
“You wanna help me find my jacket? Think I left it around back when I was smoking a cigar with Shawn,” Joel murmured into your hair. His fingers pressed into your waist, his breath on your neck.
It was enough to distract you. You blinked your tears away, fingertips brushing at the corners of your eyes to make sure your makeup was still intact. “Sure,” you whispered, looking up at him after you’d composed yourself.
Your heart skipped a beat when Joel took your hand, tugging you along with him down the path on the outside of the barn. Both of you were tipsy, giggling and stumbling a bit over the paving stones that had been set in the tall grass. The lights faded behind you, the dim glow through the high windows of the barn and the solitary strand of Edison bulbs between the trees just enough to navigate by.
It all happened so fast, you didn’t even know who initiated it. Joel’s calloused hands were cupping your cheeks and jaw, tilting your head up as your lips met his. He tasted like whiskey and the sweet wedding cake, making you sigh into the kiss as your fingers twisted in his shirt and pulled him close.
You had to stand on your tip toes to kiss him properly, a few soft laughs escaping the both of you when the hard cartilage of your noses bumped and teeth clashed.
He took steps forward until your shoulder blades pressed against the side of the barn. Joel crowded you in, one hand leaving your cheek to brace against the wood behind your waist as he swiped his tongue along your bottom lip. You could feel him smiling.
You always found French kissing to be weird, never knowing quite what to do with your tongue. Whenever a guy had initiated it you managed to cut it off quickly, moving on to some other method of making out to spare yourself the embarrassment of letting your tongue sit there like a dead fish.
Of course you’d seen people do it, always seeming like a lot more licking each other than kissing. Nevertheless, the second time Joel ran his tongue along the seam of your lips you found yourself parting them for him.
Suddenly, you understood. Joel’s tongue massaged over yours as he groaned softly. You wanted him to consume you, letting him take control as he explored your mouth. He tilted your head back more, leaning over you with his full height. You flicked your tongue along his, spine arching toward him in an attempt to get closer.
The horn of the hotel shuttle startled you as you broke apart, chests heaving and your lipstick smeared onto Joel’s mouth.
“You staying at the same hotel as everyone else?” Joel asked, nosing at your hairline as his hands roamed over your dress. He bunched it in his fists, raising the hem above your calves and wrinkling the fabric.
“I am,” you breathed, twisting your fingers in his thick curls.
Joel smiled against your earlobe, nipping at it. “Wanna continue this in my room? Got a king size bed and everything,” he drawled, pulling back to look down at you. There was a sparkle in his eyes, his smile was breathtaking.
You wiped your lipstick off his bottom lip with your thumb, suddenly feeling a bit shy. “You sure?” you asked, folding your arms over your chest in a form of protection from Joel’s possible rejection.
He offered, but there was still a part of you that was worried.
He furrowed his brow, a smile still on his face as he looked down at you in the dark. “'Course I’m sure. Go get your shoes, baby, and I’ll see you on the shuttle.” Joel spun you toward the nearest door to the barn, lightly smacking your ass go get you moving.
You yelped, swatting at his hand with a glare.
“Go on, before I ruin that pretty dress of yours in the dirt out here,” he told you, a smirk on his face as he nodded his chin toward the door. You rolled your eyes, acquiescing to his instructions.
—
It took Joel no time to get you down the hall from the packed elevator and to his room. He clumsily tapped his keycard against the sensor, stamping kisses along the side of your neck as you giggled in the cage of his arms.
Finally he got it to unlock, tightening an arm around your waist as he pushed the door open. Joel took wide, staggered steps on either side of your body as he ushered you inside.
As soon as the door snapped shut he was already lifting the bottom of your dress, kisses turning into bites on the curve of your neck. “Jo-el,” you whined through giggles as you grabbed the forearm he’d locked around your waist.
“Unfair that you’re this fucking pretty,” he mumbled, making your face heat up as you tried to protest. Joel shushed you by grabbing a handful of the meat of your thigh, groaning in your ear.
“How’s it unfair?” you managed to ask, your head spinning from the overwhelming presence of Joel. His rough, calloused hands were groping at your soft flesh, his lips sucking marks on your neck like you were teenagers.
The room was relatively untouched, his open suitcase on the stand near the large windows on the far side of the room. The curtains were slightly open, moonlight filtering in. “S’unfair that I didn’t meet you sooner,” Joel said, scraping his blunt teeth over the sensitive spot just under your earlobe. You shivered in his arms.
He separated from you just enough to shuck his suit jacket that he had haphazardly put on for the shuttle, tossing it on the little sofa in the room. You turned after stepping out of your heels, linking your hands behind Joel’s neck and pulling him in for another kiss.
Joel smiled into it, his hands grabbing your waist and holding you flush against his body. “You still wanna do this?” His fingers moved to your spine and played with the zipper on the back of your dress, looking down at you as he waited for your answer. "Don't want you to feel pressured or anything."
“Wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be,” you murmured, carding your fingers in his thick curls.
Joel just groaned, pressing you flush against him as he captured you in another needy kiss. He pulled the zipper of your dress down in one fluid motion, making a shiver prickle up the length of your spine.
“Let me see ya, baby,” he said against your mouth, pulling the thick straps of your dress down your arms.
You let the fabric pool at your feet, your sheer, skin-colored bra and panties leaving little to the imagination. A wave of insecurity flashed over you, your skin suddenly feeling stretched too tight over your body as your face and neck heated up.
You were too aware of the parts of yourself that you didn’t like: the dimpled flesh on the outside of your thighs and the hairs you hadn’t plucked away because the wedding was the last place you thought you’d find a one night stand. A wobbly smile formed, your instinct making you bury your face in Joel’s neck to hide.
“Jesus Christ,” he mumbled, his voice so quiet you almost didn’t hear his praise. His massive hands ran down your sides, thumbing at the mesh of your bra and panties before he started moving you backwards.
Your calves hit the bed, making you squawk in an unflattering way as Joel lowered you to the mattress. “You’re so gorgeous,” he breathed, his lips trailing down your neck until he was kissing and sucking at your sternum. He nudged your knees apart with his free hand, his other forearm planted on the mattress to hold his weight off of you. He slotted himself in the space between your thighs as his tongue laved over your nipple through the mesh fabric of your bra.
The noise that came out of your throat was embarrassing. Your breath turned into a strangled moan, eyebrows pinching together. The sensation only made your arousal increase tenfold, spine already arching to press your tit against his mouth.
Joel chuckled, soft brown eyes ticking up to look at your face. “That sensitive?” he said, more of a statement than a question. You found yourself nodding anyway. He thumbed at your other nipple, making it bud against the thin fabric and pulling another whine from your throat. He snickered.
“Don’t tease,” you huffed, wiggling your hips and lightly squeezing his sides with your knees.
“Don’t worry, baby,” Joel muttered, a smile stretching on his lips as he rolled the pad of his thumb over your nipple again. He placed kisses along your stomach, making you suck in the soft flesh on reflex. His coarse facial hair tickled your skin, making you giggle a bit as he continued to work his way down your form.
“Just wanna taste ya, okay?” Joel asked, his broad shoulders between your spread thighs. His thick fingers hooked into your panties, manipulating your legs so he could pull them off and toss them somewhere in the room. He pressed your legs apart before you could snap them shut, a seed of worry taking root in your mind as you looked down at him.
You’d never been so self-conscious during a hook-up before, but for some reason Joel felt different. Your thoughts were preoccupied on how you looked from his vantage point, if you smelled alright and if anything looked weird.
“Been wanting to taste you all night, ever since I saw you standing up there during that damn ceremony.”
He spread you apart with his thumbs, eyes focused on your already wet pussy as a smirk stretched across his features. He just stared, making you want to crawl back into yourself. Then the feeling of his tongue on your clit makes you forget your worries, your face scrunching as you moaned. Joel hooked your leg over his shoulder, your heel pressing against his back as he pushed your thighs even further apart.
You couldn’t remember a time when you’d been so soaked before, sticky arousal practically gushing out of you. Joel’s wide tongue licked long stripes up your cunt, careful to practically gulp down everything that he could. He was groaning as he ate you out, his big hands digging into your waist to pull you closer. The coarse hair of his beard was rough against the soft skin of your inner thighs
“Oh–oh god, Joel,” you sighed, propping yourself up on an elbow so you could look at him.
Your thighs were quaking, pressing against his ears as your hips twitched. Joel’s dark eyes were hazy and half lidded as he lapped over your clit, working with a focus you’d never experienced with any other man. He looked beautiful between your legs, belly-down on the mattress and still dressed in his button down shirt and slacks.
One of his hands left your hip, snaking up your stomach to reach blindly until he cupped your breast. He pulled at the cup of your bra, revealing your peaked nipple. The bud was immediately pinched between his thumb and forefinger, making you arch your back as you let out another whine of his name.
Joel dipped down to shove his searing tongue inside of you as his nose bumped into the swollen bead of your clit. A bolt of lightning ricocheted up your spine, a gasp leaving you. It felt so good you could almost cry, your chest heaving and hips clumsily grinding toward his mouth. You were already starting to tremble, pleasure sparking in the pit of your stomach as he mouthed at you.
And then he pulled back.
“Joel!” you yelped, starting to sit up as your gaze hardened into a glare. Your pussy clenched around nothing, neglected and empty with an interrupted orgasm.
He huffed a laugh, looking down at you as he knelt on the bed in front of you. “You’re right, baby, that’s my name,” he teased, his voice deep and smokey.
He grabbed you roughly by the hips, pulling so you fell to your back again. “You fucker–” Joel cut you off by pressing the backs of your knees until you were bent in half, a brief show of just how strong he was. His calloused hands gripped the soft flesh of your ass, readjusting you again so the small of your back was propped up against his quads. You’d never been in this angle before, your pussy the highest point of your body as he pushed his forearms against your thighs to keep you still.
Joel’s hot breath washed over your cunt before he delved back into it, greedy as he started sucking on your clit. With the way you were contorted, you were completely helpless, any attempt to move your hips just made your thighs push uselessly against his arms. You were soaking, your arousal dripping down to your asshole as you whimpered pathetically.
He went at a leisurely pace, taking his time to tongue at you and lick long stripes from your perineum to your clit. Your hands were clenching in the white comforter on the hotel bed, your chest heaving. There was something about being completely at his mercy that made your head spin.
You wanted to be greedy, take everything he would give you; but, Joel was in no rush, languidly pressing his face into your pussy despite your best efforts to get him to speed up.
It was overwhelming in all the right ways, your head spinning as you watched Joel lick at you like he wanted to consume every part of you. Joel cupped your breast in a hand, strumming his thumb lightly over your nipple to keep it stimulated as you gasped.
You were delirious by the time he sunk two fingers into you, almost making you scream. Joel took a few breaths, his pink lips swollen and shiny with your arousal as he studied your expression. You could hardly think straight, strings of curses mixed with his name falling from your lips as you panted like a bitch in heat.
The squelching sound of his fingers lazily pumping into your pussy filled the hotel room, loud enough to make your cheeks burn. You wetted your lips, trying to catch your breath beneath Joel.
“So fucking tight around my fingers,” Joel mumbled, the words muffled and wet because he didn’t pull away. It didn’t even feel like he was talking to you, communing with your pussy instead. The praise went directly to your head, making you tighten around his fingers. You threaded a hand in his hair, keeping his mouth pressed against you. “Tastes just as good as I expected.”
“Oh… oh my god,” you breathed, your climax building toward its precipice.
Joel wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked, just barely speeding up the rhythm of his fingers fucking into you. His thumb on your nipple followed suit, matching the motion as tears filled your eyes. Your fingers threaded into his curls, your brows furrowed as you pulled on his hair. He grunted against you, not letting up as he worked you up toward the edge.
When you came it was a whole body event. Your legs trembled, hips burning from the awkward angle Joel had bent you into. Your back arched, breath pausing in your chest. Your cunt clenched around his fingers, sucked tight and feeling every inch of them inside you. The pleasure was white-hot as it coursed through you, leaving your nerves buzzing and your ears ringing as your body went limp.
“So pretty when you come,” Joel said, his thick fingers still deep inside you.
You were almost nonverbal, your response a delirious sob as you looked up at Joel with watery eyes. He caressed your cheek, gently stroking your jaw and thumb wiping over your lower lip. You kissed the pad of it out of reflex, the motion making his expression soften for a moment.
Then he started to massage the spongy spot inside of your dripping pussy, making your eyes roll back. “Too sensitive,” you whined, grabbing onto his forearm in a weak attempt to stop him.
“Trust me, baby, I’ve got you,” he said in that syrupy tone, gaze still locked on your face as you squirmed. He took his hand away from your cheek, holding one of your legs to keep you still as he fucked his fingers into you. “You can do one more for me, right?”
The need to please him made you nod, taking in a deep and shaky breath. You couldn’t do anything but take it, your mouth dropping open and your back arching. The overstimulation made you tremble, your whole body squirming. Breaths kept huffing out of you, your brows pinched tight as you tried to relax. It was hard to think straight, hell, it was hard to even breathe.
Joel pulled his fingers out of you for a moment to strum over your swollen clit, only touching you with just enough pressure to drive you crazy. He continued until you were straining against him, moaning and sobbing his name. It was like he was carved from stone, hardly giving you any leeway as he kept you in place. The pressure in you built faster this time, it was almost embarrassing how quick he was able to get you to the edge.
“Joel, Joel, Joel–ohmygod,” you gasped, reaching for purchase against his thigh. His dress pants were soft under your fingers as you squeezed, your body practically vibrating.
“I know, baby, I know,” he murmured soothingly, pressing a wet kiss to the back of your thigh as his fingers hooked back into you.
Joel fucked you on them at a ruthless pace as his thumb rolled over the crest of your sex, your mouth opening in a wordless cry as you fell into your second orgasm of the night. You were completely lost, your eyes squeezed shut as your muscles spasmed against the restraint of Joel’s arms. White noise filled your mind, your body melting against Joel’s thighs and the bed as your legs fell open even further.
He rubbed along the seam of your cunt soothingly, calloused fingers working you through the aftershocks. Your eyes were completely hazed when you looked up at him, splayed on the bed like every bone had been pulled from your body. He looked positively giddy, his wet fingers smearing on your thigh as he rubbed your legs in an effort to help you come back to yourself.
Joel let you off of him, returning your spine to the mattress as he leaned over you to give you a kiss. You hummed into it, smelling and tasting your salty-sweet slick on his lips and facial hair. “Please fuck me,” you begged between presses of his mouth, desperation easy to hear in your tone.
“‘Course I will, baby,” he said, getting off the bed to quickly undress himself. You shakily sat up, unclipping your bra at your back and tossing it aside.
Joel was impressive, his body rippled with muscles beneath a layer of fat that told you he was eating well. Your gaze dragged down him, mouth watering as you finally saw his cock. It was big, the same tanned tone of his skin with a flushed tip. It jutted from a patch of trimmed, dark hair that was accentuated by the happy trail beneath his navel. You swallowed thickly, pussy clenching at the thought of him fucking you into the mattress.
You kissed him eagerly as he got back on the bed, part of you so desperate to please him. Joel was older than you, so much more experienced, you just wanted him to like you.
He grunted, curling a hand around the back of your neck to keep you close. His other hand traveled down your body, massaging your hip with his thumb. You were putty in his hands, your own arms in a loop around his neck.
“Lay down,” Joel mumbled against the hinge of your jaw, nipping at the bone. You whimpered, fingers digging into the broad muscle of his shoulders as you complied. Joel ran a hand over you, sliding it down the valley between your breasts and over your soft stomach.
The backs of your thighs were pressed against his quads as he took himself in his hand, sliding the blunt head of his cock along your pussy. You clenched around nothing, desperate and wanting. “Joel, please.”
You couldn’t take waiting anymore.
He smirked, notching himself at your entrance and obliging you. Joel pressed and pressed and pressed until his hips were completely snug against yours. He split you in half across the width of his cock, moving slow to give you some time to adjust. It felt like he’d consumed all of the extra space in your body, you even felt him in your throat.
You breathed brokenly, back arched and hips twitching as you struggled to find a comfortable position. You weren’t a virgin–weren’t anything close to it, really–but it felt just as overwhelming as your first time.
Joel bent over you, his elbows on either side of your head carrying his weight as he ground his hips against yours. His forehead pressed into your shoulder, a heated groan rumbling from his chest. It was hard to make sense of things, rattled breaths filling your chest as your mind whirred uselessly. He peppered kisses over your face, his lips wet and warm as he showered you in affection.
Then he moved his hips, the roll of them slow and syrupy and making you nearly choke. You grabbed at his biceps, an attempt to anchor yourself to him as he started to rut his hips into yours. He made room for himself with every press of his cock, molding you to the shape of him.
Joel collected your leg with a rough hand, pushing your knee toward your chest. He let it come to rest in the curve of his elbow, palm pressed flat to the comforter as he spread you open wider. Your hips protested as he splayed you apart, the discomfort easily taking a backseat to your pleasure.
You keened, mouth falling open as he sank even deeper inside of you. Your breaths came out in little mewls, matching Joel’s grunts as you met each thrust with a weak roll of your hips. His lips were at your throat, sucking more marks into the skin and his facial hair scratching against you. “Goddamn, you’re gonna be the death of me, baby,” Joel groaned into the curve of your neck, still keeping an even rhythm
You let out a breathy laugh–you felt the same way about him. He lifted himself to get a better look at you, dark brown eyes as warm as the summer sun as his gaze drifted all the way down to where his cock was buried in you. He grunted at the sight, pupils dilating like drops of ink in water.
His free hand lifted off its elbow, his weight shifting to one side so he could wet the pad of his thumb with a lick of his tongue. You were making sounds you couldn’t control, each thrust pushing a small gasp from your throat. Then, Joel dropped his hand to your lower abdomen, gently tracing the curve of your belly down into the soft thatch of hair you hadn’t bothered to shave.
A calloused thumb found your clit, swirling over it with a confident pressure in a way that made your eyes nearly roll back in your skull. Joel was pounding into the spot that made you see stars, merciless in his pace. “Joel… oh god…”
You could feel the flutter of your orgasm starting, your legs trembled against his arm and the curve of his waist. You chanted his name like a prayer, overstimulated tears starting to squeeze out of the corners of your eyes and roll into your hairline. He just soldiered on, grinding his thumb over your clit as he worked you higher and higher toward the edge.
A rattling gasp escaped your throat as you pulsed around Joel, your brows pinching and your body stiffening beneath his. You could feel the release from the soles of your feet to the crown of your head, your nails digging into his thick biceps as the flickering pleasure turned into a full on forest fire. You leaned up to wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him down onto the mattress with you as you held him close.
“Fuck,” Joel moaned into your neck. His thrusts became sloppy fast, his discipline gone to the wayside now that he made you come on his cock. You felt him twitch inside you, his breath coming out in hot huffs against the curve of your shoulder. His hand grabbed your hip, pulling you down to match his frantic thrusts as he moaned your name into your skin.
You wanted to pull his head away from you so you could see how his face looked when he finished. The muscles in his abdomen clenched, his hips grinding tight to yours as he came inside of you. You moaned with him, the feeling of being filled up by him satiating a need you didn’t know you had as you dragged your blunt nails on his scalp.
Joel finally collapsed, the weight of his body pressing down on you as you combed your fingers through his hair. His hips were cradled by your legs, sweat slicking your skin wherever it was pressed together. You breathed against one another, pulling each other close as you basked in the afterglow.
You were sharing the same air, pressing loose kisses to each other's warm skin as you melted into each other for an unknown amount of time. It could have been seconds, it could have been hours.
“We should clean up,” you finally breathed, able to come back to yourself.
Joel nodded against your neck, you felt it more than you saw it. You giggled after he didn’t move, still leaving you helpless and pinned beneath him. He seemed to make himself even more comfortable, arms constricting around you and face nuzzling closer to your throat.
“Joel,” you chastised, lightly shoving at his shoulder. It was half-hearted and meaningless–you were more than content to stay here all night if you had to.
“I like how you say that, Joel,” he said, mimicking your voice in an annoyingly high-pitched tone. It made you laugh, throwing your head back against the comforter as you shook it.
He hissed, pulling away from you just enough to prop himself up on an elbow. “You clench around me like a fucking vise when you laugh like that, baby,” Joel muttered, swirling his fingertips over your skin. He didn’t move to pull out of you quite yet, the two of you relishing in the intimacy of your embrace.
A slow smirk crossed his face, his dark eyes flickering back up to meet yours. “Plus, what’s the point of cleaning up if I’m not done with you yet?”
–
Needless to say, you were sneaking out of his room when the dregs of sunlight started streaming through the hotel room windows, sore and exhausted, with his phone number typed into your phone and his hickeys all over your skin.
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"Everywhere." (dbf!joel x reader)
summary: Before beginning to work in your new job, you decided to visit your dad in Texas for the whole summer break. What you didn't know is, that you would meet your teenager's crush, your dad's best friend, again. Joel fucking Miller.
words: 5.4k
trigger warnings: dbf!Joel, age gap (reader is in her 20s, Joel is in his early 40s), no!outbreak!Joel, some mentions of y/n, a little bit angst, 18+, smut (f!nger!ng, praising, s3x, ect.)
a/n: well, it's been a while since I posted. I hope you're all doing well and I hope you'll enjoy this new ff. <3
(sorry for spelling mistakes, english is still not my first language)
-------------------♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡-------------------
It has been two months now since you have this special affair. Every time you sneak over to him, your breath quickens, and butterflies fly around in your stomach when you’re getting nearer to him.
Every time you lay in bed alone, you feel his hands and his kisses all over you.
Every time you think of him, thinking of every night you two had… you can't bear the ache between your legs.
But it is not just the sex…
Every time you’re with him, you forget all your worries and fears.
Every time you're with him, he makes you feel safe.
He makes you feel loved.
He makes you feel alive.
When you think of all this, it is just perfect.
But it's not.
No one can know.
No one can know that you sneak out mostly every night to go to him.
No one can know how you feel about him.
No one can see.
It has to be a secret.
When you’re not alone, you just have to act like your just neighbours…
Even if you are neighbours.
It’s not easy. It’s hard.
But even if the fear of having to end everything doesn’t let you go… it doesn’t keep you from doing it.
Maybe someday, you can let everybody see.
See that you love him.
But that’s all just in your head. You love him, you really do, but… it’s complicated.
You don’t know if he really feels the same way about you do.
But there’s one thing you really know.
You’re in love with Joel Miller.
Yes, the Joel Miller who’s nearly twenty years older than you.
The Joel Miller who’s you’re neighbour and has known you since you’re a teenager.
The Joel Miller you’ve watched doing work in his garden.
The Joel Miller with these beautiful eyes and strong arms.
And… the Joel Miller who’s unfortunately your dad’s best friend.
You were 14 when you moved to Texas with your dad. It was shortly after your mom and dad’s divorce. He got the legal custody of you. And you were kind of relieved that you didn’t have to live with your mother. Sometimes in the past, she got pretty impulsive towards you and your parents just kept fighting. But you still have some contact with her.
So, it was good to begin all over again. You went to a new school, made some friends and all kinds of that stuff. Your dad also found a new job and got along with the neighbors, especially Joel Miller.
They got along pretty well, since they were both a single dad with one daughter.
But all besides that, you never really knew him. You waved him when you saw him outside.
When he was over at, your dad's house you simply said hello. You never really wanted to talk to your dads' friends.
But everything changed when you became older. You remember how your dad asked you to look after Joel 8 years old daughter Sarah and you didn’t say no to that. It was a good way of earning some money of your own.
So, you’re started with 18 to babysit Joel's daughter. And that’s when you started getting a slight crush on him. You noticed over time that you feel different with him than with the two or three boys in your age, you dated in the past. Over the two years you’ve started getting an immense crush on him, but it was hopeless. It was just a dream fantasy of him and you getting together since he was that older than you. Just a teenager’s crush.
At the end of 19 you left for college in Louisiana and told yourself to grow up. You studied philosophy and even if it wasn’t always so easy, you finished from college and then even got a job as a professor in another university to teach philosophy.
But before you started working in your new job, there was a long summer break. And after all the learning and writing exams, you deserved it the most.
You decided to visit your dad in Texas and stay there for the whole break because you didn’t see him often for the past years. You also wanted to spend your 26th birthday with him and in your second hometown.
You pulled over your car in the driveway and parked. As you got out of the car, your dad already walked towards you. “Oh, there’s my girl!”, he smiled happily and hugged you tightly. “It’s so good to be back home!”, you said. Your dad and you small talked for a bit while he was getting out your luggage out of the car. Suddenly, you heard a very familiar voice.
“Hey buddy”, you heard, and you turned around. You saw them talking and then saw who he was.
“Hey, you still remember …?”, your dad says but you already finished the sentence in your thoughts.
Joel.
When he stands in front of you, you freeze. He looks even hotter than before…
How can someone look that good in his 40s?
You cleared your throat. “Yea- of course”, you responded. Your heart begins to race. “Umm- How’s Sarah?”, you asked firmly. “She’s doing really well. She’s on a vacation with some of her school friends for the whole summer break. But she would be so happy to see you”, you remembered him replying with his texan accent.
And that’s how everything started. You saw him way more often and talked to him when he was at your dad’s house. He made you laugh and feel safe. Every time he was just near you, you couldn’t think rationally. The first weeks after your arrival, you spend a lot of time with Joel since there was a lot going on your dad’s work.
Every morning after breakfast you went over to his house and you two played UNO, chess or simple board games. He showed you around the neighbourhood and told you everything you’ve missed while your away. You noticed that during the time you spent together, he looked at you in a different way. You thought you’re just being delusional, but he acted differently towards you, but differently good.
You often caught him staring at you, every time he called you “darling” or “princess”, you got goosebumps and when you teased him, which you loved, he got so nervous.
There was just this tension between you two.
And one day, it just happened. You were at his house and put on your shoes to go home because it was already kind of late and you wanted to get home before your dad did.
Joel was sitting on the couch, watching football. “You’re sure you got everything?”, he asked you while looking at the TV. “Yea- I think so”, you replied and put on your jacket. You put your hands in your pockets and noticed that you forgot your keys. They were lying next to Joel on the other side of the couch.
You smirked, walked over to him and bend right over his lap to grab your keys. “ ‘just need to grab my keys…”, you mumbled and felt his whole body getting tense. “I know what you’re doing...”, you remember him mumbling under his breath.
“I’m not doing anything, old man”, you chuckled, grabbed your keys and walked towards the door. He stood up and you thought he would open the door for you, like he always did, like a gentleman. But now he was just standing there.
“Well, I wish you a good night, then”, you smiled and opened the door half way, until he closed it. He pushed you against it and the next second you felt his lips on yours. You froze and the butterflies in your belly got crazy. Your heart was racing but you immediately wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him back.
And that’s how this whole affair thing started.
Nearly every night you sneaked out to him, like today.
You’re in his bedroom and the only thing you can hear is heavy breathing, moans and skin clapping together. “Joel-“, you breath out while you’re lying on your stomach, and he’s fucking you from behind.
His one hand grabbing your waist and the other hand pulling your hair back, makes your eyes roll back. “Fuck, you’re so fucking tight-“, he groans and thrusting into you even deeper.
You squeeze your eyes together, slowly feeling that very familiar feeling in your lower stomach. “Joel, I’m gonna-“, he cuts you off.
“No, not now. I wanna look at you-“, he gasps, and you suddenly feel an emptiness in you, as he pulls out.
“Joel-“, you whine, and he flips you around on your back. “Shh, you can take it”, he breathes. He leans over you and kisses you passionately. His tongue explores your mouth, and you still can taste yourself in his mouth from him eating you out earlier.
His hand slides over your belly, grabbing your breast and squeezing them harshly while his other hand spreads your legs. He breaks the kiss, and you gasp for air. You look right into his eyes… his beautiful eyes.
He rubs his tip over your wet pussy, teasing you. “Fuck Joel- I cant-“, you whimper and bite your lower lip. “You can…”, he whispers and pushes his hard dick into you.
You moan satisfied as the emptiness fades away. He begins thrusting into you while his hand is slowly wrapping around your neck.
“You’re such a good girl…”, he groans and pushing your waist into the mattress. It doesn’t take you long for you to feel that familiar feeling again. Joel feels it too.
Between your loud moans and breaths, you want to say it, but he places his lips on yours. “I know, baby… me too”, he breaths. Everything gets tense in your body.
You chuckle slightly, but your chuckle fades quickly, by feeling him directly hitting your g-spot. Your moans get louder and you roll back your eyes.
“Look at me…”, he slightly growls by being just concentrated on you. You feel his dick twitching inside of you. You pull yourself together and look at him. His strong arms, six-pack shining in the moonlight that comes through the window.
“My beautiful girl…”, he moans, and that’s it
“Cum for me.”, and you do. You cum all over his dick which leaves you breathless. You look at him, while he continues thrusting into you two more times, until you see his mouth opening and feeling him filling you right up.
You come fresh out of the shower wearing comfy shorts and a white tank top. You put your towel dried hair up in a bun and walk downstairs to the kitchen. You hear the shower still running upstairs, since Joel is still in there.
You walk to the fridge and open it. You get out a beer for Joel and an ice cream for you. You close the fridge and walk to the living room, placing the cold beer on the table and take a quick look at the clock.
12pm
While eating your ice cream, you look at Joels house plants, which just nearly survived because of you. You chuckle sightly and begin watering them.
“they would already be dead if I didn’t had you“, you hear Joels voice say behind you.
“I know”, you reply quietly and concentrated on the plants. You hear Joel sit down on the couch and open his beer. As you keep watering the plants, you see Joel searching for the TV remote.
“it is literally right next to you”, you sigh and let out a chuckle. You put the watering can away and jump on the couch next to him. His stare is fixed on the TV while he drinks his beer. You rest your head on his shoulder and he puts his hand on your thigh, caressing it.
“Joel”, you mumble and keep watching TV.
“Hm..?”, he hums.
“Í have been thinking about… well, how this all will go on, when the summer break ends..”, you whisper cautious, watching his reaction directly.
All you hear is a sigh from him while he takes a sip from his beer. “go on?”, he replies focused on the TV. You gulp, moving away from him and sitting up.
“well yes- how will this thing go on?”, you ask more seriously, pointing on him and you. “or don’t you want it goes on?”, you mumble, feeling your heart getting heavier.
“‘never really thought about it-“´, he replies with a sound like he doesn’t really give a shit, he’s just concentrated on his TV. You scoff and get up. You grab your bag pack and walk to the entrance, slipping into your shoes.
“wait-“, Joel sighs and you hear him get up. “that’s not what I meant”, he mumbles and rubs his forehead while watching you.
“well, I think its really clear what you mean and think”, you scoff again and grab your jacket. “look- I never really thought about it”, he grabs your hand and pulls you towards him.
“I don’t know what you expect from me-“, he mumbles. Your heart gets heavier again, and you shake your hand, while you can't believe what’s really going on.
“what I expect you to-“, you stop and take a deep breath, “I’ll go, my dad will come back from work soon”, you whisper and get your hand out of his grip.
Opening the door. “good night, Joel”, you mumble and walk to your house. The last thing you hear from Joel was a loud sigh, and then the closing of the door.
——
You’re laying in your bed, staring at the ceiling. The bright sunlight was shining through the window. You think about last night and sigh.
‘Did he really never thought about it…?’, you think to yourself.
You stand up and walk over to your desk. You look in the mirror, noticing some hickeys on your neck.
Your mind plays back last night, his lips pressed on your neck, while his fingers are buried inside of you. How he- “y/n, would you come down please?”, you hear your dad calling from downstairs, ripping you out of your thoughts.
“Yes!”, you reply and sigh. You quickly grab your cute summer dress out of your closet and quickly make yourself ready in the bathroom, covering up all these hickeys. While you run downstairs, you put your hair up in a messy bun. “What is it, dad?”, you ask loudly and walk into the kitchen.
“You remember how I talked about these grill party’s, every neighbour does for the neighbourhood? Today its my turn”, you hear him talking out of the living room, while you grab yourself a coke. “yeah, what about it?”, you ask, making your way into the living room.
“well, I need your help in organising, Joel isn’t enough, you know”, he laughs, and you freeze in the doorway, looking at Joel who’s sitting next to your dad on the couch.
“Joel is helping us since we’ll help him next week when he has to do the grill party”, your dad says, looking with a smirk to Joel. You don’t answer.
“hey? Did you hear what I said, lazy head?”, your dad laughs while Joel looks at you. “yea- um sorry. I heard you”, you mumble as you pull yourself together and clear your throat. “I mean, yea, I can help you. What should I do?”, you ask, trying to ignore Joel and just looking at your dad.
“well, while I get everything prepared here, you and Joel can get groceries shopping”, he suggests and takes a look at Joel, looking for a reply.
“Sure”, Joel replies and gives him a pat on his back. “I mean-“, you get cut off. “We’re already on our way”, Joel says and gets up, grabbing his cars keys which are laying on the couch. You scoff, shaking your head. “Come on”, Joel calls and opens the door.
“bye dad”, you mumble quietly and grab your shoes, putting them on and walking through the door, towards his car.
“Thanks for asking me”, you whisper annoyed and open the car door and take a seat.
“You’re welcome, darling”, Joel replies and gets in the front seat and starts the engine. As he begins driving, you let the window down and close your eyes, relaxing under the warm breeze on your face.
“how did you sleep?”, Joel suddenly asks, trying to smalltalk and you chuckle. “you’re really bad at small talk, you know that? But I didn’t sleep well, no”, you reply and watch the kid's playing soccer as you pass by a house.
“look, because of yesterday-“, Joel begins talking but then stops. He rubs his forehead and takes a deep breath.
“I-“, he tries. “we’re there”, you cut him off and directly as he parks you get out of the car.
You have no nerves for this now.
You two arrive back at your home, and take out the whole groceries, placing them on the kitchen counter.
“thanks you two”, your dad says as he walks past you, kind of stressed. “I’ll be back in a minute, I need to go over to Veronica”, he shouts since he’s already out of the door. Veronica is one of your neighbours, she’s a really nice old lady.
You look over to Joel next to you, who just finished taking out all the groceries. You suddenly feel his hands on your waist, turning you around and pressing you against the kitchen counter.
You let out a sigh. “Joel-“, you mumble and try to get out of his grip. “Look at me”, he says clearly and stern.
“Come on, now-“, you whine and he pushes you against the counter even more. “I said, look at me”, he stated. You roll your eyes and look up to him. “what?”, you whisper annoyingly.
The next thing you feel are his lips pressed on yours. You try to resist, but your body replies to him by opening your mouth, allowing his tounge to explore yours. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down to you.
“I’m sorry…”, he breathes as you pause the kiss. “I’m sorry about yesterday.. of course I want all this to keep going, but- it’s just difficult”, he mumbles and presses his lips on yours again.
“I know…”, you murmur against his lips.
“we’ll figure something out…”, he whispers as he stops the kiss again and caresses your cheek.
You let out a slight smile and nod. You look right into his eyes and that’s when this desire kicks in again. You immediately slam your lips on his again, grabbing onto his shirt. You grab his hand, placing it on your clothed breast. He squeezes it harshly, rubbing with his fingers in circles around your nipple.
You whimper into the kiss, feeling this ache between your legs again. You grab his hand, leading it down your stomach, but he stops. “We can’t- your dad.”, he points out and stops.
“he’s not there yet- I need you…”, you whisper desperately into his ear.
Joel hesitates. “fuck…”, he hisses under his breath. That’s when his hand slips under your dress, pushing away your panties and sliding two fingers into your wet pussy. You let out a satisfied moan and let your head fall back.
“You need to be quick, baby”, he mumbles into your ear while he grabs your waist with his other hand, so he can support you in standing. His fingers slide in and out, searching after your soft spot. As he finds this spot, your moans get louder and your legs weaker.
“fuck, joel…”, you breath out, squeezing your eyes together as you feel your climax building up in your lower stomach. “come on, baby..”, he whispers into your ear while he hits this exact spot with his fingers. You hear the door unlock. As he feels you’re cumming, he covers your mouth with his hand.
“cum for me, sweetheart…”, he demands as he hits this spot one last time and you cum with a loud moan, which his hand muffles.
“I’m back”, you two hear your dad call and hear his steps getting nearer the kitchen. He pulls his fingers out of you, releases you out of his grip and licks off his fingers. You pull down your dress again and that’s when your dad comes in.
“everything okay?”, he asks with a smile and you nod, still out of breath.
“yea”, you reply and give him a forced smile back.
‘That was close’, you think to yourself.
“Well then, let’s make everything ready for tonight”, he chuckles and walks out of the kitchen. You take a glance at Joel, who’s still a little shocked since you two almost got caught. You go on tiptoes and place a kiss on his cheek. You take the groceries and carry them out to the garden, with Joel looking after you.
You hear so many laughters coming out of the garden while you’re in the kitchen to grab some drinks for outside. The whole garden was full, since almost the whole neighbourhood was there.
You go out, with all the drinks in your hand, placing them on the table. You take a glass of water and give it to Veronica, the old lady, which as your neighbour.
“thank you, sweetheart”, she says with a kind smile. You look around, and see everyone chatting, drinking or eating. Your stare falls on Joel, who was talking and laughing with your dad while they are standing at the grill.
‘He would never really approve of you and Joel, would he?’
You sigh.
But you remember Joel words…
“We’ll figure something out“
And that’s how the next following weeks kept going. You keep sneaking over to him at night. But your dad often noticed or saw you going out when he came home late from work, and then you always had to come up with some random excuse.
You slowly noticed that your dad has got quiet of sceptical and tried to talk about you once because you always go out late. But you’re a adult. And you really couldn’t care, all you could care about was him.
Joel Miller.
It was midnight and you and Joel are laying in his bed. You lay in his arms while he’s running his fingers through your hair. Your breath was still fast, 5 minutes ago he fucked the shit out of you.
You feel so safe and comfortable in his arms, but thinking about that you have to go back to Louisiana… You let out a sigh and hug him tightly.
“you’re okay?”, you hear Joel mumbling. You nod slowly, “yea”
Joel knows exactly what’s on your mind. “tell me, when you could go anywhere you want on this earth, where would it be?”, he asks and looks down at you.
You chuckle slightly. “I don’t know… I always wanted to see the northern lights”, you reply.
“why are you asking?”, you ask confused and sit up, pulling the blanket over your body.
“maybe I can take you there someday”, he mumbles and gives you a slight smirk.
You roll your eyes. “yea sure…”, you mumble.
“somewhere else too?”, he raises his eyebrows and sits up too.
“come on joel, don’t play with me”, you hit him playfully. “no, I mean it”, he grabs your waist and pulls you onto his lap.
“something else?”, he asks again.
“hmm… maybe- the maldives… I was never on the maldives”, you whisper.
“noted.”, he mumbles and pretends to write it down. You giggle. “somewhere else?”, he asks again with a smile.
God, how you love his smile.
“really? You don’t even have that much money, old man”, you chuckle as he grabs you by your waist again and pushes you in the mattress while leaning over you.
“i don’t care, i’ll take you wherever you wanna go.”, he whispers and looks right into your eyes. Your thoughts about you leaving immediately vanish and you give him a smile. He presses his lips on yours.
“everywhere?”, you mumble into his kiss while your heart was pounding like crazy.
He nods. “everywhere.”,
He replies and places kisses on your neck, while he slowly moves down your stomach. You bite your lip, looking at him how he disappears under the blanket between your legs. You let out a soft moan as you feel his lips pressed against your clit and give yourself totally to him.
You put on your shoes while the sun starts to come out slowly. “i’ll come back tonight, then”, you mumble tired and go on tiptoes to place a kiss on Joel’s lips. He hums against your lips in agreement.
“I thought about showing you how to play guitar…”, he whispers while his lips can’t leave yours. You let out a chuckle, “okay…”.
You grab your jacket and open the door. “see you then”, you smile and walk out the door.
You’re in town alone. You’re walking around the shopping centre to get some ingredients for your birthday cake. You’ll get 26 years old in 4 days.
Old, you think.
While you were grocery shopping, Joel was knocking at the door of your dads house.
Your dad opens the door. “Hey buddy, what do you need?”, he asks and leans against the doorframe.
“I need to borrow this toolkit of yours, ‘need to repair something”, Joel says and clears his throat. “Yea sure, come in”, your dad smiles and walks with him into the living room. “Wait here”, he says and after some minutes he comes back with the toolkit and hands it over to Joel.
“Thanks, buddy”, Joel replies and gives him a pat on your dads back.
Joel makes his way to the exit. “Hey um, I wanted to ask you something”, your dad stops Joel. He turns around and raises his eyebrows. “sure, what is it?”, Joel replies.
“well um- I noticed y/n sneaking around at night and coming home super tired- I mean, I know she’s a grown up, but she’s still my daughter. I’m just a little concerned , since we usually talk about almost everything“, your dad says and Joel gulps.
“do you know anything? You know, since you two spend some time together while I was working, I’m really grateful for that, buddy”, your dad continues, and Joel pulls himself together.
“sure- no thing, but I know nothing, sorry”, Joel mumbles and shrugs his shoulders. “okay… yea, I just don’t want her to get in trouble or anything, not that she sneaks around with some creep or something“, your dad laughs.
Joel let’s out a fake laugh too while a wave of guilt runs over his whole body.
“you’ll tell me, when you know something, right? Since we’re buddies?”, your dad asks and places his hand on Joel’s shoulder.
“Sure��, Joel replies and takes a deep breath.
“I’ll have to get going then”, he clears his throat again and your dad nods.
“sure, good luck with the toolkit”, your dad smiles and waves at him while Joel walks over the street to his house.
It was 10pm and you walk over Joel’s house with these butterflies in your stomach going crazy again and knock on the door. He opens it.
“Hey”, you say with a smile and go on tiptoes to give him a kiss, but he turns his head. You look at him confused.
“You’re okay?”, you chuckle and stand in front him, waiting for him to answer. He lets out a sigh and rubs his forehead.
“fuck…”, he mumbles under his breath while you raise one eyebrow.
“look- this can’t go on”, he finally speaks out and your heart literally drops.
“w-wait what?”, you stutter in shock and can’t believe this is real right now.
“this won’t and can’t work out.”, he points at you and him.
“what the fuck, joel. Yesterday, you talked with me that you would take me everywhere on this world- and now, you’re like- ending it?”, you repeat everything to make it yourself clear what’s happening right now.
“Look- this was a huge mistake. It’s just too complicated and-“, you cut him off.
“You said, we’ll figure something out“, you get louder and more upset while everything around you gets hotter and your eyes wetter.
“well- unfortunately we can’t. It can’t go on like this, y/n. you need to find someone else”, he mumbles stern.
“find someone else?!”, you repeat and can’t believe every word what’s coming out of his mouth.
“what the actual fuck… I thought you loved me-“, you nearly shout and a tear runs down your cheek.
“love you? I never loved you-“, he suddenly says out loud without thinking. And that’s when your whole world stands still. You stare at him with tears in your eyes.
“fuck you, joel.”, you hiss and slap him right into the face.
Then you just turn around and walk over to your house again, trying to control the emotions which are running through your whole body right now. You quickly wipe your tears away and go into your room, not looking back.
And just like that, everything ended.
It has been four days now since Joel ended this special affair.
You didn’t sneak over to him anymore, but your breath still quickens, and butterflies fly around in your stomach when you see him, but this time, with a sharp pain right into your stomach.
Every time you lay in bed alone, you feel his hands and his kisses all over you.
Every time you think of him, thinking of every night you two had… you can't bear the ache between your legs.
But it was not just the sex…
Every time you were with him, you forgot all your worries and fears.
Every time you were with him, he made you feel safe.
He made you feel loved.
He made you feel alive.
When you think of all this, it was just perfect.
But it wasn’t.
No one could’ve known.
No one could’ve known that you sneaked out mostly every night to go to him.
No one can know how you still feel about him.
No one can see.
It had to be a secret.
When you’re not alone, you just have to act like your just neighbours, what you now just are.
It’s still not easy. It’s hard.
But now that the fear of having to end everything came true… it keeps you from doing it.
Now it’s just a fantasy that maybe someday, you can let everybody see.
See that you love him.
But that’s all just in your head. You love him, you really do, but… it’s more than complicated.
You know that he doesn’t really feel the same way about you do.
But there’s one thing you really know.
You’re in love with Joel Miller.
Yes, the Joel Miller who’s nearly twenty years older than you.
The Joel Miller who’s you’re neighbour and has known you since you’re a teenager.
The Joel Miller you’ve watched doing work in his garden.
The Joel Miller with these beautiful eyes and strong arms.
The Joel Miller who’s unfortunately your dad’s best friend.
And… The Joel Miller who broke your heart in thousand pieces.
You sit in front your birthday cake. Your dad nearly invited the whole neighborhood and now everyone waits for you to blow out your candles. You know Joel’s here too and you feel his eyes on you. That’s when the sharp pain kicks in again.
You look up from your cake and see him leaned against the doorframe of the living room.
‘You’ll regret it, Joel’, you think to yourself.
Then you look on your candles again and blow them out.
“Happy fucking birthday to me”
#ff#joel miller#the last of us#joel miller x reader#the last of us x reader#joel miller x you#fanfiction#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x reader#oneshot#dbf!joel#dbf#the last of us fic#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller smut#joel miller fanfic#joel miller x female reader#pedropascal#joel x reader#tlou#no outbreak!joel miller#no outbreak au#pedro pascal oneshot#pedrohub#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal fic#pedro pascal imagine#pedro pascal smut#pedro pascal x you
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✨Can You Please Be Mine? Part 1: Carousel Lights and Dreamy Brown Eyes✨
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A/N: This idea came out of absolutely nowhere when I was driving home from work, so I ran home to write it 🤭 As always, let me hear those thoughts and please reblog if you enjoyed 🩷 The song “Better Run” by Nasty Cherry created this sweet delusion ✨
Summary: It’s a hot summer’s day in Austin, and you’re cooling off by having a cold ice cream cone while riding the carousel at the fair. You see a handsome, older man that you think is just the hottest man you’ve ever seen, and you just wonder what it’d be like if he took you home with him.
Word Count: 1.7k
Pairing: Joel Miller x fem! reader
Rating: Explicit (18+ ONLY MDNI)
Tags: Allusions to smut, describing how hot Joel Miller is, flirting, pining, this is written in both reader’s view and Joel’s POV, reader is in her early 20’s and Joel is in his late 40’s
Dividers by @saradika-graphics
The Austin heat swelters down on you, its hot rays of heat melting your vanilla ice cream cone as you lick at the edges of the tasty treat. The metal seat of the colorful carousel sticks to your tanned skin as the denim shorts ride up your sticky thighs coated in sweat.
As the carousel starts up, you see the thick crowds of people filling the streets start to blur, your stomach twisting in knots as the laughter between you and your friends from college echoes around the spinning ride. You can’t remember the last time you’d been on a carousel, so you relax and unwind as the ride goes up and down slowly.
The wind blows through your windswept locks, the shine of your lip gloss coating your glittery lips as you take another bite from the delicious ice cream cone that sits in your hand. One hand hugs the golden pole, the other grasps around the waffle cone as you lick more of the vanilla goodness into your mouth.
You feel the ride sweep you around, the motion soft and slow as it takes you back around to the waiting crowd. You smile freely as the wind blows through your long locks, tipping your head back as you spot a man that catches your eye in the colorful crowd.
Tall. He’s so very tall. Maybe over six feet tall. And his eyes. Glossy brown pools that are surely made of pure honey as they draw you in. Dazed and completely infatuated. Eyes that could make you lovesick with desire.
You catch his eye, watching the way his thick eyebrows furrow together as they meet yours. A blank stare, but full of curiosity and wonder as he stares back at you intrigued. You see him shake his head and look down at the concrete ground, but it doesn’t take him long to look back up in your direction discreetly as those melted pools of honey find yours again.
You giggle to yourself and readjust your position as you lean forward and brace yourself against the golden pole, fingers digging into the hot metal as you clench your thighs against the warm seat. Excitement stirs inside your entire body, butterflies flitting low in your stomach as you bite your lower lip and snicker.
He’s so fucking hot.
When the carousel circles back around, you find him staring again, caught red handed with his thick fingers digging into the pockets of his dark washed jeans. He’s so broad, so muscular as the denim button-up sits clinging against tanned skin. The sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, exposing thick, cascading veins that carry down to his large, overwhelming hands. They look like hands that could hold you tight, fingers that could sink deep into you as he curls them up one at a time in between the slick of your folds.
You look away as crimson heat fills your cheeks, taking another lick of your melting ice cream as if that’ll cool off the rush of warmth that’s filling the inside of your thighs. Your mind wanders to dark places, filling your head with visions of what it’d be like for his head to be between your thighs, his rough tongue sliding against your heat as you grab a fistful of those tousled curls and moan his name blissfully.
You can see it now, how absolutely massive his cock must be inside those tight jeans of his. You wonder what it’s like to go down on him as he bobs your head up and down his length, calling you good girl as he watches the drool lap around your needy mouth, wonder how he must taste of salty sweetness that slides down your throat willingly.
You think he must make you so full as he drives his thick cock in and out of your slick center as he licks into the heat of your mouth and moans just the right amount as he stills and coats you in ropes of come when he’s finished fucking you nice and deep. You know he’d be so good to you, if only you could have just one taste.
The carousel spins again in slow motion as the soft music fills your ears. You see his brows knit together as a smug look coats his face, his salt-and-pepper beard shaded from the sun as he stands at an angle in the crowd, ticking his jaw just a tad as he meets your stare again. He’s intrigued, that much you know.
As the carousel spins in a continuous circle with the seat moving up and down in slow movements, you visualize this is how you’ll look riding him. Your head tilted back, your eyes half closed, your glossy lips puffy from his mouth devouring you as his tongue licks against your needy mouth, your thighs clenched tight around his large waist as you moan his name over and over again. He must feel like a god inside you because his sly smirk and dark brown eyes scream for you to come play. And you want to. God, you want to.
He’s conflicted, torn between looking away and staring at the beauty that sits in front of him, licking your melting ice cream and smiling flirtatiously at him from the moving carousel. He knows you’re younger, probably at least twenty years younger than he is. But that doesn’t stop him from staring at your tanned skin, denim shorts riding up dangerously short as he gulps down the desire to hook your legs over his shoulders as he spreads them wide and licks the slick that he knows is pooling inside your tiny shorts.
Another mischievous lick and it has his cock digging into the zipper of his jeans, the precum already spilling as he pictures you down on your knees, your lips pressed around his cock as your tongue laps up and down his slippery, long length that has your name written all over it. He can’t stand it, the desire that burns in his very being as his mind swirls with visions of you everywhere. You are all around him, spinning your web of lust as you pull him in. He wants you, so fucking badly.
He can feel the growing bulge in his jeans as he readjusts and shoves his hands deeper into his pockets, brows furrowing together as he grits his teeth together in frustration. He thinks you’d look so good splayed across the light blue sheets on his bed, legs spread wide so he could take in the shine of your glistening slick that coats your pussy. He thinks you must taste so good, thinks you smell like candy and vanilla as the scent tinges his insides. He thinks he can see you moaning his name with your legs wrapped tight around his back, thinks you’d look so fucking good while he rams his slick coated cock inside you over and over until he bottoms out and has you begging him for more.
He wants it, just as much as you want him. But he shouldn’t. He’s at the fair with his daughter Sarah. He should be paying attention to her, but yet his eyes are glued to you. Those smoldering, tempting eyes that he thinks are the most beautiful eyes he’s ever seen in his entire life. He knows right then he’s fucked, royally fucked. You’ll fucking ruin him. He knows it.
As the dizzy delusions of you and him being a thing wrack your brain, you realize you just have to have him. You pry a pen from one of your friend’s purses and tear off a piece of the ice cream receipt paper and scribble your name and phone number down quickly before the ride comes to a complete halt.
You nearly bounce off the pink horse you just straddled, pulling your shorts down that hike up teasingly around your tanned thighs. You make your way quickly through the metal gates, finding the broad man standing just inches from your face as you see his thick eyebrow raise in curiosity, his jaw clenching as he flexes his fingers into a tight fist next to his denim jeans.
You gather every ounce of courage in your body to stride up to him, your shoulder brushing past him as you slip your fingers in between his, feeling the calloused fingers burn against your skin as you slip the piece of paper discreetly into the palm of his hand. You push your way through the thick crowd, smiling to yourself as you achieved exactly what you wanted to do.
When you turn back around, you gasp as you see his head turned toward you, honey eyes glazed over as his lips part open, the sheen of his sweat covered forehead slick as tousled curls stick to the tanned skin. He’s so fucking beautiful.
You take another mischievous lick of your vanilla ice cream as the sweet flavor runs down your throat. You see him gulp as he watches you, his eyes blowing wide as you smile flirtatiously and wink at him as you pull a strand of hair back behind your ear shyly.
You watch him another minute, getting lost in his honey eyes as he seems to be entranced by you. Before the ride attendant lets the next round of people on, he gives you a gorgeous crooked smile as a dimple pulls deep against the middle of his cheek. You think he’s the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen, and you swear that deep chuckle that escapes his lips sounds like a choir of angels that sing just for you.
Before he turns to get on the ride with a girl you think is his daughter, he winks back at you and slips the folded piece of paper into his pocket as you nearly pass out from the playful wink he just gave you. When he turns his broad back against you and leads his daughter onto the ride, you nearly sink to your knees as butterflies fill the pit of your stomach.
He’s going to be the absolute death of you, you just know it.
As you turn to the whirlwind of loud crowds and busy rides, you think of dark eyes and broad shoulders. You knew you’d see him again. This was just the beginning of an exciting adventure. The adventure of you and him.
Tags: @mountainsandmayhem @jasminedragoon @littlevenicebitch69 @syd-djarin @msjarvis @keylimebeag @lotusbxtch @casa-boiardi @akah565 @laurrrra @amyispxnk @pedrostories @survivingandenduring @vvitchesh3x @untamedheart81 @rav3n-pascal22 @littlemisspascal @sheepdogchick3
#joel miller#joel miller fic#joel miller smut#joel miller fanfiction#joel x female reader#joel the last of us#tlou fanfiction#joel tlou#joel miller pedro pascal#daddy joel#joel miller one shot#joel miller au#joel smut#smut#joel miller fluff#joel miller tlou#no outbreak!joel miller#no outbreak au
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Hands
Pairing: No-Outbreak!AU, Joel x Teacher!Reader as usual (let's just assume these No-Outbreak Joels are all the same couple tbh), established relationship
Summary: Friday nights are reserved for sweatpants and relaxation, of course. But when Joel's work week leaves his hands a bit worse for wear, the night may need to include a break for a little extra attention.
Warnings: extreme fluff once again. expect it at this point. i'm a one-trick pony, i fear.
A/N: finally got around to putting one of my many bulleted notes-app idea fics into paragraph form again! Will we get another one before the year's out? It's anyone's guess! -_-
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Friday nights are your favorites. No dinner to cook or rattling rolodex of tasks to come in the next twelve hours give you both a little room to breathe — to gently unwind from yourselves and into one another. It’s typically quiet, and when it isn’t, the volume is born of laughter from games or stories the three of you share.
Joel comes home from an exceptionally long week. You know he’s been on site every day—the whole team has—working longer and longer hours to wrap up the latest project before the client’s deadline. You’re pleased to hear his keys rattle in the door not long after five o’clock, and relieved because the air’s rapidly cooling earlier each night. Daylight Savings time is coming to an end, and today he barely beat the sunset getting home.
You know the hour means little, however, and are less than astonished at the weary grin he bears on catching sight of you and Sarah on the couch when he walks in the room. She’s already got her purse on her shoulder, eager to head out when her friends arrive, and she’s excitedly recounting the events of the trailer for the movie they’ll be catching tonight. He stands idly in the doorway for a moment, just listening to the two of you chat. You make brief eye contact and smile back, assuring you know he’s there. Neither of you wants to interrupt her avid storytelling.
“Well don’t you sound excited?” he says when she pauses to catch her breath. You both turn to greet him, and he moves more quickly toward you as you attempt to rise, gesturing to you to remain seated. He’ll come to you both.
He plants a kiss on top of Sarah’s head before leaning down to kiss you as he does each night. You place a hand on his chest and pause when he pulls back to get a good look at his face. You see the fatigue in his droopy-eyed smile, but can’t say anything to him. You already know it’s mirrored in your own expression.
The doorbell rings before either of you can speak again, and Sarah jumps up to head out the door. You wish her a good night, and he follows her to the door, checking for a familiar parent in the driver’s seat and seeing her off. You see him hand her some cash to go with his reminder to make good decisions, and he hugs her. You can’t help but giggle when she takes it with a wide smile.
He turns to you laughing when he sees she’s in the car, and shuts the door.
“What?” he asks, brow furrowed in confusion, but amused at the sound of your laughter.
“Smart girl. I gave her a 20 before you got home,” you grin back at him. He stills in understanding and rolls his eyes.
“You couldn’t tell me that two minutes ago?” he asks you in mock exasperation.
“But it’s so much funnier this way!” you add, giggling again. You both know he’s wrapped completely around her finger, though she so innocently does not. It’s one of the first things you noticed about him. One of the first reasons you fell in love.
He shakes his head fondly, and places a hand on his stomach, which begins to grumble softly at him. You raise your eyebrows and meet his gaze. “Any thoughts on dinner?” he asks, and you grin back at him in amusement.
“Handled. Pizza’s already on the way,” you respond and he feigns relief.
“You’re brilliant.” he says, walking up and grabbing your hand on the back of the couch. You run your thumb in little circles on the back of his hand and give it a light squeeze.
“Duh. Now go get changed! It’s do-nothing time starting now,” you respond, patting the top of his hand in encouragement.
“You read my mind,” he says, leaning down for another quick peck before heading off into the bedroom to change out of his work clothes. Naturally, you’ve been in sweats for over an hour now, shedding your own outfit immediately, peeling the school day from your skin. The unspoken uniform for these Friday nights is extremely specific.
The pizza arrives before Joel can even return from the bedroom in a feat of incredible timing. You’re gathering plates and filling glasses with ice when he emerges ready for the night. He moves forward to help you grab the dinner, but you shoo him away to the couch.
“Nope, I got this. You sit,” you say, lightly shoving his chest away. You leave no room for argument. He grumbles a bit and raises his hands, backing away to the living room. You follow behind him with the pizza and plates, and return once more for the drinks before settling next to him on the couch. He sits on one end, and you sit in the middle, leaving little room between you.
You lean forward, putting pizza on one plate you pass to Joel before grabbing your own, then settle back against the cushion, both sinking in so comfortably a nearly audible sigh fills the room. The comfort in this relief is palpable, and the decompressing can begin. You grab the remote and put on the series you’ve been binging together recently, more for background noise than anything else.
A few slices and sitcom episodes deep, you’ve set your plates down on the coffee table. With your bellies comfortably full, you’ve somehow slumped deeper, though Joel into the couch and you into his side. His arm is draped over the back of the couch behind you, and you’re nearly laying on him, head propped against his shoulder.
You hold his free hand in both of yours and absently play with his fingers for a second when you notice the aggressive wear this week has lent his hands. They’re a raw, angry red at the knuckles; his nails are cracked in some places and peeling in others. Moving your fingers gently down toward his wrist, you focus more directly on the state of his, catching sight of a few hangnails and stretched cuticles that can’t be comfortable. He looks down as you begin to worry them beneath the soft pads of your own fingers, and you meet his gaze, brows furrowed as you look between his face and hands.
“Keep doing that, please,” he says with a sigh before closing his eyes, “I wait all day to feel your hands on mine. They’re so soft.” He lifts your hand to his lips before pressing a feather-light kiss to your knuckles. He loves the delicate, reverent way you play with his hands, like they’re small, fragile things in need of tender attention. You take his hand once again into both of yours and gently rub it between them, looking back up at him, concerned.
“How do yours feel? They look like they’re hurting you,” you gnaw a bit at your bottom lip in thought, and he tries to assuage your worry.
“I’m alright, darlin’. Nothing worse than I’m used to,” he says. He knows from your deepening frown that you’re less than satisfied with this response.
You couldn’t care less if he’s used to it, he shouldn’t be. You know the protective callouses forged there don’t mean those hands are unfeeling in the slightest.
“Wait there. I’ll be right back,” you say, rising from his side and hastening to the bedroom. It’s his turn to frown now, both in confusion and at the sudden draft that’s appeared at his side.
You return not a minute later with a small tote around your wrist, and hands filled with half the manicure items you own. You sit down next to him and unpack, laying clippers, files, cuticle oil, and two different hand creams — a lotion he’s seen you use regularly, and a jar that must be a new addition — on the coffee table in front of you, along with the selected polishes and remover you had in the tote bag. You’ve been meaning to do your nails, anyway.
Joel looks incredulously at you, unsure where this is going. Not that he’s a stranger to nail polish — he raised a little girl on his own long enough to have worn the rainbow on his fingers, but tonight?
“Sorry, no color for you today, honey. Certainly not before these are healed,” you say. He’d chip half your handiwork away by Monday afternoon anyway the way he’s been working lately. Facing him, you cross your legs on the couch and smile, holding your hand out expectantly for his. He raises his eyebrows at you, but places his palm gently in your own.
You grab the clippers and get to work on the hangnails first. Any peeling skin or cuticle right there at the nail you clip as gently as possible, making note of the reddened and slightly swollen areas at the base of his nail from which they protrude. Those will need careful attention at the end. He doesn’t squirm or react in any way, but you know they’re more sensitive than he’s letting on.
Next, you clip back any breakages and unevenness in the nails themselves. You’d never find Joel Miller with dirty hands — he gets them clean as soon as he gets home, but all the scrubbing it takes to keep them that way takes its toll. A little trim at their length might help reduce the need for so much each day upon his return.
After clipping, you grab his first hand again and rest it gently in the palm of your left while your right files steadily to even any rough edges left behind and prevent further injury. It won’t take much, but you’re sure to get them smooth so they won’t catch on anything or bother him later on.
The cuticle oil is next. He looks at it questioningly, clearly a bit skeptical, only having seen it a few times when you or Sarah used it. He’s never ventured so far himself. While you brush it gently onto each of his nails, you explain its purpose.
“This’ll just help your nails get a little stronger. It’ll get them hydrated a bit, keep ‘em from peeling so much when your hands get dry. It’s kinda crazy how much better this stuff is for your nails than even water is. Water’ll make the peeling worse, actually. Weird, huh?”
He just nods along, listening to you, content to learn something new as always. Finger by finger, you massage the oil into his nail and nail bed. After the first round you go back through to massage again, both to make sure no oily feeling is left behind, and to prolong the rapidly concluding process. He could use the attention, anyway.
Finally, you pick up the jar he identified as a new addition: a canister of a hand repair cream labeled for “Healing of dry or cracked skin.”
“Never seen that one before,” he says, reading the label, “What d’ya need this for? Your hands are never dry! I think they’ve been soft every time I’ve held 'em since the day I met ya,” he smiles at you, and you bashfully brush off the compliment.
“I don’t need it. I use the other one,” you say with finality, opening the jar and pulling the first of his hands into yours. You don’t grab a large dollop of the stuff. You don’t want him to feel a disconcerting weight, grease, or stickiness from this unfamiliar formula, so you get a little and begin. You add a bit more each time you reach a new spot on his knuckles, palms, wrists.
You take your time, gently massaging into those roughened, tender hands far more than a simple healing salve. He understands why you have the jar now, looking at you knowingly, and you smile back. No words need be exchanged.
Once you’ve finished the last finger and the last stroke on his hands, you squeeze the one in your own, then pat it gently with your other, “There. Gotta feel better now, yeah?”
Joel stares at you like he just watched you reach up and place the moon in the sky, if for no reason other than to light his path.
“Like you wouldn’t believe. Thank you sweetheart,” he says, squeezing your hand back and smiling reverently at you. You blush beneath his gaze and look away, unsure what to do with the admiration rolling off of him in waves. You lean back against the couch, file in hand as you start going at your own nails.
“Good. Don’t let 'em go that long again, either. Where they start hurtin’ ya? Maybe we oughta make this a weekly thing. Manicure night? Been needing someone to do my right hand,” you grin, wiggling the corresponding fingers at him. He smiles back at you, then reaches over and pulls you toward his side, back to your original position laying against him, head resting once again on his shoulder.
“Sounds like a plan,” he says fondly into your hair, planting a kiss to your head in the process. You get comfortable once more, foregoing any plans to do your own nails tonight. You both know those “manicure nights” will be for him — and you’ve got Sarah to do your right hand already, when you do hers.
You grab the same free hand once again and admire your work, then lace your fingers between his own, and rest your twined hands on his leg. You’re satisfied knowing the hand behind you on the couch is comfortable now, healing from the week’s toils and melting into the comforting haze of the early autumn evening.
#oops i did it again#fluff without plot#this is my only genre#I just need more SFW care directed at this man#is that so much to ask#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller fic#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fluff#joel miller x you#joel miller x reader#joel tlou#joel the last of us#joel x reader#tlou fanfiction#tlou hbo#joel miller imagine#no outbreak!joel miller#no outbreak au#pre outbreak!joel
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You’re too sweet for me
Pairing - dbf!joel miller x fem!reader
Warnings - age gap (readers in early/mid 20’s and Joel’s at least in his late 30’s/early 40’s), cursing, angst
Masterlist
A/N - can’t get hoziers new song out my head, and can’t get the fact that it’s so Joel miller coded out my head either.
I'm standing in Joel Miller's living room, arms crossed over my chest, eyes watering, wishing I could just disappear. It's 2 pm on a Tuesday, which means my father and his daughter, the two people we didn't want to know about our relationship, are working. "Y/N, you're too young for me," he says, standing about 4 feet away from me. I wasn't too young for him when he was balls deep inside of me two days ago, so why all of a sudden was I too young?
"Why now?" I ask, his brows furrow as he asks, "Huh?" I roll my eyes. "Why now?! Did someone find out?" he sighs, arms resting on his hips as he says, "Tommy, he found out. he's threatenin' to tell your daddy unless we break this off," he says, gesturing to the both of us. Tommy Miller is again the world's biggest snitch. "can't we just lie?" I ask, blinking back tears as Joel takes a few steps towards me.
His hands rest against my upper arms, both thumbs caressing the supple flesh beneath my cotton tee shirt. "You should find someone your own age. Someone you can actually have a future with." My eyes fill with tears once again as I plead, "Please. I want a future with you."
He shakes his head. "We can't, y'know that." Joel was obviously older, in his late 30s, and me in my 20s. I was closer in age to his daughter than him, but that didn't mean we couldn't be together. "Please, Joel," I say, hands grasping at his arms. "Honey, we aren't anything alike; tell me, did you think this was ever going to be anything other than sex?" and just like that, my heart breaks in two. Tears flood my eyes and stream down my face.
Maybe he knew something I didn't; with all the years he had on me, maybe he learned something in one of those I hadn't yet. Perhaps he could see into the future and wanted to save me from himself, but I still can't take it without shedding a few tears. "I love you, Joel," I admit through tears. His mouth is left a gap as he stares down at me, tears streaming down my cheeks. I can almost hear his brain tick, tick, ticking as he thought. "Baby…" he shakes his head, "you don't love me. Kid, you don't know what love is,"
I feel more angry than sad. "Don't call me kid," I mutter as I pull myself out of his arms. How could he say I was incapable of loving someone yet loving him yet. I didn't need to live a million years to know I love him. "c'mon, you're just too sweet for me. We're too different." I was the sunshine, the light of everyone's day, and he was the rain clouds rolling in to ruin everyone's day. I quickly wipe my eyes before turning around to walk out of his house. "don't come crawling back," I mutter to myself as he shouts, "You know we can't be together without ruining both of our families."
The egotistical part of me wants to say I'm the best thing he'll ever have, but I know that's not true. I know there's going to be some age-appropriate woman who comes and sweeps him and his whole family off his feet. A girl who will single-handedly make him forget all about me. A woman, my dad, will talk about how 'good she is for him' and how 'this is it for him, I know it.' a woman I will try to force myself to hate, but I'll never be able to. She'll be the best thing he'll ever have, and I'll just be a fuzzy memory in the back of his head.
#fanfics#x reader#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller tlou#joel miller#joel miller x reader#dbf!joel#dbf!joel miller#the last of us hbo#the last of us show#the last of us x reader#the last of us#joel the last of us#hbo tlou#no outbreak!joel miller#no outbreak au#pedro pascal#Spotify
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Dark!Preacher!Joel x f!reader
Summary: You indulge in the voice of the Devil for one fateful night.
Rating: 18+ Explicit MDNI
Caution/TW: DUBIOUS CONSENT
Word Count: 3.6k
Warnings: NONCON ELEMENTS, no outbreak AU, undisclosed age gap (joel is 56 and reader is in her late 20's), infidelity, religion!kink, degredation!kink, humiliation!kink, praise!kink, choking, slapping, forced oral (m receiving), deepthroating, rough hair pulling, boot licking, light fingering, pain!kink, noncon unprotected piv sex, pet names (little one, good girl), degrading terms (bitch, whore, slut), dirty/filthy language, rough sex, forced orgasm, noncon creampie, no aftercare
A/N: this is WAYYY out of my comfort zone to write, but something about the idea of Preacher!Joel just did it for me. I figured I'd test out the waters & see where it gets me... anyway, enjoy and PLEASE READ THE TAGS/WARNINGS
Masterlist
You weren’t oblivious to Preacher Joel's sidelong glances and lingering stares. Every Sunday, you sat in the second row of the church, watching him preach the Lord’s gospel with a baleful smile only meant for you, while your husband, Adam, sat beside you blissfully unaware. So, when you proposed the idea of taking a pie over to his home—alone—Adam didn’t even bat an eye.
“Are you taking over a cherry pie?” Adam had asked from the living room.
You were bent over the oven, pulling the hot pie dish onto a trivet with shaky hands. Sunday service that morning had been your breaking point; the communion dish made its rounds through the pews, and you found Joel’s eyes tracking your mouth as you brought the grape wine to your lips. Your resolve snapped, and the desire to feed into temptation blurred any and all judgment you had since maintained.
“Do you think he’ll like it?” You hollered back at Adam, wrapping the pie in a terrycloth.
“I’m sure he will, honey.”
Untieing the canvas apron from around your waist, you smoothed down your white church dress and shuffled the pie dish into your arms. Crossing into the living room, you kissed the crown of Adam’s head softly before saying goodbye. He didn’t look up once.
The benefit of living in a small town was that all the homes were fairly close together, meaning it was a short walk to the preacher’s home, which resided behind the town’s church. It was far past supper time, and most of the town had tucked into bed by now, leaving you alone with the wind between the trees and a man who could be your undoing. The only sounds echoing around you were your feet crunching along the dirt road and the howls of stray dogs in the distance. Clutching the pie closer to your chest, you continued walking toward his home with the Devil on your shoulder.
Preacher Joel’s home was modest and small; the white paint on the wood structure chipped away from years of weathering. His black pickup truck was parked on the side of the house, the wheels dirty and the paint smeared with mud. The closer you got to his front porch steps, the more rapidly your heart pounded inside your chest. You didn’t know what to expect, but you knew every muscle drawing your body closer to his home was being fueled by the Devil. Under the flickering front porch light, you brushed your knuckles against the door and held your breath.
Heavy footfall sounded on the other side of the door before it opened, revealing the man that plagued every thought in your mind. Joel stood before you with his dress shirt unbuttoned halfway down his chest, exposing the dark chest hair that spattered across his tan chest. His patchy grey beard was well-trimmed as if he had just refreshed it, and a lascivious grin broke across his face as his eyes raked over you.
“This is a mighty nice surprise,” he whistled.
“I—I wanted to bring over a pie,” you stuttered. “As a thank you.”
“For what?” He quirked a thick eyebrow, his piercing brown eyes staring down at you.
“It was just on my heart to do something nice,” you lied.
Joel reached out for the pie dish, his warm hands brushing over yours as he took it. You weren’t sure what to do with your empty hands, so you found yourself fidgeting with the gold cross dangling around your neck.
“Come in,” he said, sidestepping to welcome you in.
The second your feet walked over the threshold, you knew temptation had sunk its teeth into you.
“This is a lovely home,” you commented, following him to the kitchen.
The living room was surrounded by dark wooden walls, with a beige loveseat in the center and a TV box pressed against the opposite wall. There were remnants of him in every corner of the room: a half-drank glass of whiskey, a newspaper folded on the coffee table, and his black leather Bible resting on the arm of the sofa. The kitchen was just as simple, with a gas stove and small white fridge nestled against wooden cabinetry.
Joel set the pie dish on the granite countertop, turning to the cabinets to retrieve a small plate, a fork, and a knife. You fixated on the way he worked at rolling up the sleeves of his shirt, the veins in his forearms flexing with each fold of the fabric. He let out a small chuckle, forcing your eyes to tear away from his hands and back to his deep brown eyes.
“Y’make this yourself?” He asked, cutting himself a slice.
“I did,” you nodded. “It’s cherry.”
“Mmhm, my favorite,” he hummed.
He dug his fork into the pie, the crust crumbling onto the plate as he lifted it to his mouth. You watched as his mouth wrapped around the utensil, a low groan escaping his throat as he tasted the cherry filling you had made by scratch. Under thick eyebrows, his eyes closed while he savored the taste, and you felt the swell of pride stirring inside you.
“It’s good?” You asked.
“S’delicious,” he mumbled, digging into it for a second bite.
Instead of bringing the next bite to his lips, he offered it to you, urging you to lean over the countertop and meet him halfway. How were you to deny the preacher of something he wanted? Opening your mouth, you welcomed the sweet taste onto your tongue, meeting his eyes as you wrapped your lips around the fork.
“Delicious, ain’t it?”
“Yes,” you whispered as he pulled the fork from your mouth.
Joel’s eyes dilated with a surge of lust. You never saw that look on your husband, but it was unmistakable when you looked into those dark eyes now. A sudden thrum of warmth ran through your body the longer studied you, forcing you to squirm in place. He must have taken notice of it when he decided to round the countertop and swarm you with his broad frame. His finger curled under the chain of your necklace, tugging at it until you lifted your eyes to his.
“You’re a temptation, little one,” he drawled. “Just look at you.”
“I’ve seen the way you look at me during your sermons,” you confessed.
He cocked his head to the side in amusement; his plush lips quirked up in a smile. His finger coiled around the chain tighter, pulling you a step closer. You inhaled the scent of whiskey and smoke that lingered on his shirt as it brushed against your chest. The thin fabric of your dress wasn’t enough to hide the shiver that ran over your spine. Joel tucked a stray hair behind your ear, bending down to brush his lips over the shell of your ear.
“Y’sure you ain’t seein’ the Devil?”
His hand released your necklace, only to wrap around your throat in a tight grasp. You struggled for air under his grip, your nails raking down his bare forearms. There was an uncanny wildness lighting up his eyes as he watched you gasping under the forceful pressure of his fingers.
“Just a naughty thing lookin’ for corruption.”
“Please,” you choked.
“Ain’t this what you wanted, little one? Look at you, just drippin’ in sin,” he whispered.
“I—I can’t breathe,” you thrashed against him, tears pooling in your eyes.
He shoved you backward until you were doubled over and heaving for air. There was a deep laugh swirling through your fogged mind, and you blinked back tears before you attempted to make eye contact again. Something about this felt wrong.
Joel stood with his arms folded over his chest, waiting for you to recompose yourself. You staggered back, your body hitting the wall of the kitchen, and you coughed violently, trying to grasp back onto reality. He curled a finger to beckon you forward, and despite your reluctance, your body moved on its own accord. With a fist full of your hair, he forced you to your knees, making you cry out at the impact of your knees hitting the tile floor.
“I should make you pray for forgiveness before I ruin you,” he growled.
You whimpered, humiliated at the way arousal pooled between your legs with every word he said. Adam never spoke to you in such a vile way; he only ever took you in the marital way, with you on your back and him above you. But something told you that the preacher would be far from that familiarity, and it electrified you. You wanted to know how far you could take it and how rough he could be. If the Devil was beckoning you, who were you to deny him the pleasure?
With defiance in your eyes and a proud grin on your face, you started to mouth a prayer to the Lord, knowing He wouldn’t be listening. Whatever you did in this small home was between you and the preacher.
“Louder,” he ordered.
You repeated the prayer, never breaking eye contact with him as his jaw clenched with each word you spoke. His hand was still twisted into your hair at the roots, holding you firmly in place. Your eyes traveled down his broad torso, settling on the growing bulge beneath his trousers. You wet your lips, imagining what his cock looked like and how it feel inside of you. Joel must have taken notice of your fixation and brought his other hand down to deliver a sharp slap against your cheek. Your head whipped to the side, the sting of his hand lingering on your face as you gathered your bearings.
“Filthy lil thing just beggin’ to be fucked, huh?”
You worked your jaw open and closed, trying to relieve the pain that radiated down your neck.
“Answer me, little one,” he snapped.
“Y–Yes,” you muttered.
Another jarring hit came across your face, your ears ringing from the impact.
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, sir,” you whispered.
Satisfied with your answer, he worked at undoing his belt buckle, tugging his trousers and underwear down his hips. Your mouth went dry at the sight of his cock; the thickness of it was enough to wrack your already shaking nerves. Adam never asked you to pleasure him this way, but your body reacted differently when you were kneeling at the feet of a corrupt preacher.
His fingers wrapped around the shaft of his cock, his hand pumping it slowly as it grazed over your parted lips. You wanted to take the plunge and wrap your lips around it; you wanted to savor every inch of it and watch him fall apart.
“Droolin’ like a bitch in heat, fucking pathetic,” he taunted.
He smacked the weeping head of his cock against your lips, precum smearing across your mouth and chin. You obediently opened your mouth for him, the immediate salty taste falling against your tongue. He gave you a moment to stretch your jaw to adjust to the girth of his cock before rocking deeper into your mouth. The tip of his cock tapped the back of your throat, forcing you to sputter around him. Tears soaked your cheeks as he picked up a steady pace, each thrust reaching your soft palate.
“That’s it, little one,” he groaned. “Takin’ my cock so fuckin’ well. Can’t cry out for God when you're full of me.”
You moaned around him, the vibration sending him into a frenzy as he brutalized your throat. You could only bare your weight against the floor and take every inch he gave, the drool and tears mixing together as they rolled down your chin. Joel’s head tilted back, his eyes fixated on the ceiling as you dragged your tongue along the underside of his cock. Your gag reflex kicked in as he struck the back of your throat before he pulled out and leveled you with a heavy stare.
“Such a good girl,” he praised, tapping your cheek lightly before unwinding his fingers from your scalp.
He gathered the drool dripping from your chin and smeared it over your face, the taste of him invading your nostrils with each swipe of his hand. It was dehumanizing and disgusting…but some fucked up part of you loved it.
“Thank you, sir,” you preened, smiling through the mess he had made of you.
“Don’t go thankin’ me yet, little one. Better clean your drool off my fuckin’ boots.”
Your smile faded as your eyes flicked between him and his shoes, which were visibly covered in a pool of your saliva. You shook your head in protest, but he was quick to shove you down toward the floor. You thrashed against his grip on the back of your neck, your nose brushing against the worn work boots adorning his feet.
“Lick,” he demanded. “Clean your fuckin’ mess.”
You swallowed thickly before you allowed your tongue to dart out and lap up the remnants of your saliva. You held back a retch as your tongue grazed over the leather material, the dryness under your mess painful against your throbbing tongue. You peered up at him in hopes that he was satisfied, but you were only met with a cocked brow and an unamused stare.
“Missed a spot,” he huffed, toeing his boot against your mouth.
You cringed as you continued working your tongue over his other shoe, the taste of it unbearable. He was shamelessly minimizing you down into the worst version of yourself, and there was no one to blame but you and your naivety.
Joel slammed his shoe back against the tile with pursed lips, and he tsked at you.
“Pathetic,” he mumbled. “Bedroom s’down the hall. I want you in there and spread out on my bed.”
You nodded and wiped away the tears bursting from your eyes. A firm hand gripped your shoulder as you tried to rise to your feet, forcing you back down. You gave him a weary look, waiting for his next command. Crouching down to eye level, Joel took your chin into his hand with a forceful grip.
“Crawl,” he ordered. “Go on.”
He straightened to his full height and loomed over you as you planted yourself on all fours. Turning toward the walkway of the kitchen, you started crawling, the heat of his stare on your backside enough to ignite another wave of pleasure inside your stomach. You could feel your dress hiking up over your thighs, putting your cotton underwear on display for him with each progressive move you made. The heat of his stare lingered on you as you scrapped your knees across the carpet, the bedroom door at the end of the hallway calling out to you through the voice of the Devil. He reached over your body to open the door, guiding you into the dark room. There was a wooden wardrobe propped against the wall and a matching side table next to the large bed that sat in the center. Flipping on the overhead light, he pointed to the bed, silently instructing you to climb onto the flannel bedspread.
You laid back on the bed, your white dress pooled around your body as he crawled over you. Caging you between his muscular biceps, he dipped his head into the crook of your neck and dragged his tongue against the pulse throbbing under your skin. The need growing between your legs was becoming too unbearable to handle, but you were afraid to beg him for release. He had made it apparent he controlled every second of this interaction, from how much you breathed to the way you moved.
“Let’s see how soaked these pretty lil panties are,” he whispered, snaking his hand down your abdomen.
Flipping your dress up, his fingers delved under the waistband of your cotton underwear, a hum of approval rumbling his chest as he found your thighs slick with arousal. Thick fingers worked their way through your wet folds, teasing your entrance before he plunged two fingers in without warning. You arched into his touch, the curl of his fingers against the soft spot inside you jolting you upwards.
“Fuck!” You cried, your fingers digging into his arms.
His free hand shot out to cover your mouth as he pressed his forehead to yours, rage simmering in his brown eyes as he stared you down.
“Watch your fuckin’ mouth, little one,” he warned. “I don’t wanna hear a fuckin’ peep, you understand?”
Your response was muffled under his hand, and he shifted his weight so that his fingers dug further inside you. You swallowed back pitiful moans as he worked his fingers in and out of you. A slow-burning sensation rolled through your stomach, pushing you closer and closer to the edge of your climax. You were fluttering around him as it bubbled to the surface, only to be met by the absence of his fingers as he pulled them away at the last second. You wailed in protest, feeling a hollowness inside of you without them there.
Ripping your underwear down your legs, Joel hauled you onto your stomach, positioning your hips upward in the way he desired. You had no choice but to take anything he gave you. The clanking sound of the belt around his pants was the only warning you were granted before wedged between your thinks and sunk into you. Your vision faded out at the blinding pain of him stretching you open, every inch of him tearing you apart beyond compare.
“It’s too much. I—I can’t. It hurts!” you cried.
His only response was to grind his hips harder against yours, the pain radiating up your spine.
“Shut up,” he bit out, pulling out and driving back into you. “You’re gonna take my cock like the filthy lil slut I know you are, and you’re gonna thank me. Understand?”
Your face fell into the pillows as you muffled a scream. His hand wound around your neck, yanking you from the bed and forcing you to bend back and meet his vicious stare. With his teeth barred and cock buried inside you, there was nothing to do but give yourself fully to him.
“Yes, sir!" You wailed. “ Thank you, sir.”
“Good fuckin’ girl,” he crooned.
He set a steady pace, the lewd sound of his hips smacking against yours echoing throughout the room. He was brutalizing you, defiling you, completely ruining you into oblivion. The voice of temptation had led you here, and now you were paying the price for your sins. No amount of prayer or forgiveness could wash you clean.
“Such a perfect and obedient whore,” he grunted with his fingers bruising your hipbones. “You fuckin’ love havin’ this tight cunt wrecked by the preacher—shit—just dyin’ to have my cum inside you.”
The sobs wracked through your body as the need to climax tore you apart. He yanked your hips even higher, pistoning his cock into you at an angle that set your body alight. You had no control over the pleasure burning deep within you, and suddenly you were tensing around his cock with the name of God falling off your lips.
“God can’t save you now, little one. This unholy cunt is mine.”
Fizzles of your ebbing climax simmered through your body, carrying you back down to the present, only to be met by another onslaught of violent thrusts from the man behind you. He was relentless as he took…and took…and took. By the time he was done with you, there would be nothing left.
“Please—stop!” The words left your mouth broken and strained.
You were clawing at the bedsheets, begging for him to release you. He only laughed at each one of your protests, his pace unrelenting and forceful with every drive of his cock inside you. His fingers flexed against your skin, and you felt the shift in his rhythm, alerting you that he was about to climax.
“Don’t—God—please don’t!” You begged.
“Quiet,” he snarled, pulling you by the throat so that you were flush against his chest.
“Please,” you sobbed, barely choking out the word.
“Gonna send you back to your husband with my cum leakin’ out of you,” he snarled.
Before you could even attempt to escape his hold, Joel was slamming into you one final time, a carnal groan deafening your ears as he filled you with his release. He tossed you back onto the bed carelessly, leaving you aching and stretched open on the ruined sheets. You lay there motionless, staring at the chipping paint along the doors of his wardrobe. Joel rolled off the bed, muttering a slew of derogatory words your way, before vanishing into the bathroom down the hall. The silence swirling around you was the only comfort in the aftermath, the pain radiating inside you fading away the longer you sunk into the mattress.
The sound of footsteps flooded the room, and you flinched away as Joel’s hand roamed up your bare thigh. His fingers prodded against your throbbing entrance, teasing you until you squirmed out of reach.
“Take yourself home, little one,” he instructed.
You winced as you rose from the bed, not daring to make eye contact as you gathered your underwear and fled down the hallway. The slap of the cross necklace against your chest was a burning reminder of the sins you had committed. You staggered out the front door, barely making it down the first step of the porch before you burst into tears. Joel’s presence loomed behind you, and you looked back one final time to see him watching you leave with a sinister smile breaking across his face. With scuffed knees and his cum trickling down your thighs, you barreled home, knowing you had just met the Devil.
#dark!joel x reader#dark!preacher!joel#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller one shot#dubious consent#tlou fanfiction#joel tlou#no outbreak au#dub con#non con#religion!kink
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masterlist. ao3.
Summary: reader leaves joel and sarah to pursue a job offer in nyc, thinking it would be easier than watching the relationship die from a distance. she soon realises her mistake and scrambles to fix it. based on this request.
Pairing: joel x fem! reader (no use of y/n) no outbreak au
Wordcount: 3.8k
Warnings: no smut, just a lot of angst, fluff and attempted humour
A/N: So, I’m clearly incapable of writing short drabbles (sorry lmao) let me know your thoughts!
“‘M just not gettin’ why we can’t make it work?” Joel throws his hands up, hot at your heels while you wipe your eyes on your sleeve and rush to the bedroom.
“I’m not saying I don’t want to. I’m just saying its unfair to the both of us. I don’t know how long I’ll be down there. What if we find other people? Long distance never works, Joel. I don’t get why you can’t just let it go.” Yelling over your shoulder, you start shoving your clothes into your suitcase, wincing at the harsh scoff he lets out.
You’d known how this was going to go. You loved Joel, so much. But you had worked practically your whole life to get the job you’d been offered last week. It started in a month, but it was all the way in New York. And you’d known while reading the email, as your initial excitement settled, that the slimy feeling coiling in your gut was right - you’d have to leave Sarah and Joel behind.
Your experience with long distances in relationships wasn’t great - and more importantly, it would be unfair to both your boyfriend and the girl you considered your own daughter for you to expect them to sit around and wait for you, indefinitely. Because you truly had no idea how this was going to go, at all.
You wanted to wait until the flight tomorrow morning to break things off with Joel, but he’d been so sweet while helping you get everything together last minute and he’d figured out that something was up almost immediately. So now, here you are. Having a messy breakup with the love of your life 9 hours before your flight to New York. Where you’d live, for god knows how long.
But this was good, wasn’t it? You were finally reaping the benefits of all the summers spent indoors and working, the missed birthday parties, the cancelled plans. You were finally getting everything you’d ever wanted, right? Except your palms felt clammier, your eyes glossed over with tears and your mind was completely blank as each sharp breath you gulped made you wince like a shard of glass.
Joel stood to your sight, arms hanging limp to his sides and his eyes on the ground, brows furrowed. He looked heartbroken, and it felt like it was physically tearing you apart not to go and smooth his frown away, kiss away his scowl. You wanted to fix his hurt, but you couldn’t - you were the one hurting him. It was for his own good though. He’d find someone nice, how could he not, and he would be happier. The thought of him holding someone else, of Sarah running up to anyone else with that twinkle in her eye, of someone else fitting into your family made your chest ache.
Nothing is permanent, and they know I love them. They have to know I’ll always love them. They’ll get someone better, they’ll be happier. It’s going to be okay, everything’s gonna be just fine. A stream of rambling consciousness starting playing like a broken record player in your mind, reasoning and justifying what you were doing even as your body-your whole fucking being was protesting it. Your hands were trembling, it’d taken you three tries to close the damn zipper and you knew it.
Turning to your Joel-not anymore, is he? you’re letting him go, you goddamn idiot (helpful supplication, brain, thank you for making me cry harder)- you sidestep him, leaving him standing dejectedly in the bedroom to drag your suitcase to the curb. The image of him with his head bowed; shoulders slumped as he closes his eyes and clenches his fist, agony radiating from him, is one that sears itself into your memory on your way out. Double checking your passport, boarding pass and phone, you walk in to stand in front of him again, gently bringing a hand up to his cheek to make him look at you. When he opens his eyes, they’re completely bloodshot and lined with unshed tears, breaking you; using all your willpower not to break down and pull him closer, take his pain away. Reigning your raging feelings, you stand on your tiptoes to brush a kiss against his cheek. “Be happy, Joel. Tell Sarah I love her.” You whisper into his skin and turn to leave, startling when he grabs your wrist.
“Tell her yourself. ‘S gonna break her heart tomorrow mornin’ if she wakes up an’ you’re not here.” He’s searching your sorrowful eyes, watching his words break your façade as you clamp your teeth down on your bottom lip and shake your head fast as more tears spill down your cheeks.
“C-can’t. I can’t. Please.”
Joel wants to gather you in his arms, stroke your hair till you calm down. But you’ve got your walls up now - crumbling, shaky walls but still, a barrier you’ve very much built between the two of you. He wanted your happiness, your successes, more than anything, but he wanted to cheer you on by your side, too. He was willing to wait, to call when you could - phones were getting smart now? - but you’d convinced yourself you were doing yourself and him a mercy by ending it. So he just nods, once, before gulping and pawing at the table to swipe his keys. The question written all over your face makes him want to laugh - did you really think he loved you so little he’d leave you to find your own ride to the airport at 9 fucking pm even if you couldn’t stand to look at him anymore?
So he hauls your bags off the curb and into his truck, yanking the passenger side door open and gesturing for you to sit with a jerk of his head. Once you clamber in, he walks over to the other side and starts the truck, hating every second of this. He wants to scream, shout, and beg you to stay so badly. But if you think this’d make you happy, he’d do it. Anything.
He just couldn’t understand why you kept saying he’d find better, be happier. As if he’d even try. Sarah’s mother had left, and he’d been crushed - had sworn off dating altogether. But you had come along; your lilting giggles and twinkling eyes carving a place in his heart. He hadn’t been with you because he was looking for anyone, he’d been with you because he thought he had found the one. But clearly he was wrong. Again.
Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he clenches his hands tighter around the wheel to steady them . His mother had always told him if it’s meant to be, it’ll be - and you won’t have any say in it. He knows it’s cliché, but if there’s even a grain of truth to be found in it, he’ll treat the saying as if it were gospel.
He can hear you sniffing your way there, heart breaking at the soft sobs that escape you, but he makes no comment. There’s no need to make this harder for you. You’d nearly fallen apart when he mentioned Sarah, and he could see in your eyes that if he asked you to stay with him, to sacrifice everything entirely, you’d do it without thinking. But he didn’t want that- could never want that for you. And so he stayed quiet, the stifling silence of the truck broken only by your muffled crying.
Pulling up outside the airport, he steps out and takes your bags down in complete silence. Itching to fix the awkwardness, he smoothes his hands over his shirt and sneaks a glance at you. You-his headstrong, terrifying little thing - looking this small, this defeated - feels so wrong that he can’t help but grasp one of your hands in his. Hooking a finger under your chin, he tilts your head up and smiles softly when you meet his eyes. “‘F you ever need me, you call me, you hear? Don’t matter if it’s five am and you’re thousands of miles away. I’ll find you, okay?” Your head barely dips in a nod as you stare at him like you’re trying to memorise the curve of his nose; the set of his jaw.
Releasing you and stepping back, he plasters a wider grin on his face as he ushers you inside, stopping only to whisper “Don’t be a stranger, hotshot.” The tiny grin blooming on your face sends victory-fueled adrenaline pumping in his veins, his stomach twisting with butterflies at the final step: watching you walk away. He waits till you’re inside and out of his sight, letting a long breath loose in resignation.
He can see how unsteady your feet are, how you stumble and nearly trip over yourself. She’ll be okay, she’ll be happy. If Joel was a better man, he’d try and understand why you just left him. He would gladly have learned it all for you - the SMS texting, even the Skype stuff he’d heard of from a colleague; apparently you could see someone on your phone while talking to them - even if he was all thumbs at it. Sarah would likely have helped him with it, too, the girl loved you so damn much she would have gone outta her way to find ways to make the distance feel as normal as possible. But you didn’t ask for any of that. No, you asked him to let you go. So he would.
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You sit in the lounge, miserable. Forcing yourself to take your mind off the clusterfuck that your life has become, you reach out for a magazine and start flicking through some mindless droning bullshit about a celebrity being spotted at a bar. Anxiety and unease had the wheel now, so you decide what the hell, and walk to the airport bar, ordering whiskeys one after the other until your head is swimming and you can’t remember how to stay upright walking in god knows which corridor of this too-big airport. Funnily enough the only thing the alcohol isn’t strong enough to wipe is Joel. How you didn’t even say goodbye properly, not to him and not to Sarah. They deserved better. You’re doing them a favor by leaving.
Your head swarming with stinging taunts directed towards yourself, you stumble into the bathroom and begin a four-hour-long stint of curling up next to the milky white porcelain, hurling intermittently as you lay on the filthy vinyl floor and relish the cold bite against your burning skin. Drinking on an empty stomach had been shit oversight on your part, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that you’d made more mistakes than one tonight…
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Your job was all you could have asked for. The opportunity of a lifetime, with a salary high enough that your account was close to hitting 6 figures in less than a year. It had taken a long time and a lot of hard work to reach here, but it was worth it. The job was, atleast. But when you swung your door open late at night, walking into a dark, cold apartment; when you got sick and had to lay shivering in bed alone for a week; when the weekend rolled around and all you could do was curl up in bed and sob into your pillow - you knew that this wasn’t worth the cost of your relationship. You’d lost weight, your eyes had semi-permanent bruises under them, your hands shook most of the time now.
It was getting worse and worse, until one morning when your alarm went off for work, you just shut it off and slept in some more. Then cleared out the depressive clutter that had started to overflow on every table, in every cabinet. Threw out the half-empty liquor bottles and for the first time since you had landed here, you knew what you were doing.
You were going back to Texas. Fuck your two-week notice. You’d made enough money to sit on your ass and do small jobs for the rest of your life if you wanted to. The eight-month stint at the firm you were currently working at - even just summarized in two lines on your CV - would help you get better jobs than you were doing before. But you weren’t going back to Austin for work, not really.
You missed Sarah like a phantom limb; it felt like someone had ripped away a part of you and forced you to live with it. You missed her jokes, her laughter, the way she’d get excited about something and talk your head off. And him. You didn’t miss him, you fucking ached for him like a lovesick puppy. His name alone made you ache, and he plagued every single minute you spent awake since you left. You kept replaying that night over and over again; every single minute of it immortalized in your memory like your own personal purgatory (fun!). Joel, who would have held your hair back when you hurled your guts up at the pavement on the bad nights. Joel, who would have held you and fed you and loved you and why the fuck did you ever think it was a good idea to leave him, again?
Snapping yourself out of your thoughts, you packed your things into the same bag you’d arrived with. You hadn’t even bought anything to furnish the apartment, making do with the too-small bed, cabinet and wonky table the landlord had provided - as if you’d known you wouldn’t stay. And you suppose, perhaps, a part of you did know. How was any of this worth anything if he wasn’t with you? The long-term good can go fuck itself. I need to see him. Should I just knock on his door randomly like a creep? No, that’s weird. What if he has another girlfriend now? Yeah, I should ask him before showing up. What if he doesn’t pick up? Where will I go if he isn’t there? God, fuck this. Get on a goddamn plane before you change your mind, idiot.
With these (wonderful) thoughts dizzying you, you reach the airport and ask the counter for a ticket home. Turns out there’s a flight in thirty minutes - which is great because on one hand you can get rejected earlier - but also means that you need to decide whether or not to text him beforehand. Within the next half hour. Which you then spend wringing your hands, pacing, and by the time you decide to text him, your phone has run out of battery. See this? This, my friends is luck. (or, you know, dramatic plot writing.)
Huffing, you debate yourself every single step of the way onto the plane, practically having a panic attack by the time you find your seat and settle in. There are just so many reasons this could just be another shitshow. You can’t go back in time and fix what you did, but you owe it to yourself and to him to apologise and give him the truth. And so you lie back in your seat and browse yet another crappy magazine to pass the time, eventually giving up and fitfully sleeping through the turbulence.
By the time you reach his door, its eleven pm on a Tuesday night. Meaning Sarah’s gone to bed, and Joel’s halfway there himself. This is not the time. Or the place. But you don’t find yourself having any better, genius ways to do this - so before you talk yourself into going home quietly - you’re rapping a fist against the door, careful not to be loud enough to wake Sarah up. It’s a school night. Holding your breath, you become suddenly all too aware of your flushed face and the sweat on your palms as you hear familiarly heavy footsteps reaching the door. One half of your mind is yelling at you to turn the fuck around and run what are you doing he won’t take you back you broke his heart get out get out get out while the other half seems to have just short-circuited, leaving you frozen on his porch as his door swings open.
You watch his eyes widen in surprise, and the slight furrow in his brow as he starts scanning you - for injuries, you realise - he thinks you're hurt or that something’s gone completely sideways. Clearing your throat, you wait for his gaze to snap back to yours before flashing him a meek smile. “C-can I come in? Please?” He just stares at you for a second, and then he’s nodding, stepping to the side and opening his door wider. And God, even that’s enough to have butterflies fluttering in your stomach, your throat going dry. He’s clearly mad at me, but he’s letting me in. At eleven pm. Fuck, I love him.
You sit on your side of the couch and the sheer mundanity of it hits you like a brick to the face. Joel brings you both beers from the kitchen before sitting across from you, still eyeing you with equal parts suspicion and concern. You fiddle with the hem of your shirt, looking down at your hands and trying to figure out what the fuck to do with my mouth what do I even say until he breaks the silence. “So, how’s work been?”
And now your hands are shaking again, and you freeze. Because what do you say now? Work’s great, practically a corporate wet dream, but useless. See, turns out I made the biggest mistake of my life by leaving - fucking moped about like an idiot the whole time, was practically a minute away from writing you some big shitty sonnet or something to beg you to take me back. Decided against it because that would have taken like $50 dollars just to SMS. ‘Course I could have boom-boxed it, ‘Say Anything’ style, but recording a fucking sonnet on a cassette would probably have shredded my dignity irreparably. Not that this isn’t, it’s just less of a socially-masochistic option, you know?
And it isn’t until you hear him choke on his beer and look up at the amusement on his face that you realise you just said all of that, out loud. You slap a hand to your mouth just as he starts laughing: head bowed, eyes closed and his shoulders shaking - just like that night, but he’s not in pain this time; he’s practically howling with laughter, clutching his stomach with one hand and holding his beer in the other.
You freeze again, eyes wide and staring in shock at the fact that that just came out of my mouth. And he just heard it. He shakes his head, still chuckling, and pointedly wipes a tear from his eye. Bastard. You, on the other hand, are completely panicking still - that was the shittiest apology you could have given him and where the fuck did that messily written draft you wrote drunk on the takeout bill last night go? It isn’t until he’s looking right at you with a shit-eating grin on his face that you react, blinking and looking down at your hands again.
“What I meant to say was that I’m sorry. I think I was just so convinced that I’m not the effort of you trying to stay with me long-distance that I convinced myself the only thing possible was to end it. Which, y’know, of course it wasn’t. And I didn’t even say bye properly. You drove me to the airport and I said nothing. I was trying so hard not to cry, because I thought I needed that job since I’ve been working for it so long, but fuck the job. I mean, it was amazing, don’t get me wrong. Great pay and everything, the work itself wasn’t too bad. All in all, amazing. But I was fucking miserable without you. And I’m so sorry. You didn’t deserve what I did to you. I fucking love you and Sarah. You’re my whole goddamn world, y’ know? Sundays weren’t the same without chocolate chip pancakes and Sarah telling me about something that happened at school first thing in the morning. I just-I get if you’ve found someone - and feel free to tell me to fuck off even if you haven’t - but I just can’t anymore, I can’t stay awake every night and cry in bed and feel like shit all the time and not tell you that I just miss you so much all the fucking time and I’m so-“
“Breathe.” One word, he’s cutting your rambling off with one word, and you’re fucking obeying it. You swallow a deep breath before opening your mouth again, before he cuts you off by pressing his lips to yours. It’s not a soft kiss, but it isn’t forceful either. Desperate, like he needed to touch you again - the way you’ve needed to every single minute of every single day. Resting his forehead against yours, he’s smiling again. “Sonnet, huh? Would’a been a pretty shit one, I reckon. Lost your train a’thought like four times there, sweetheart.” Your stomach is doing somersaults at the fact that he’s abandoned the beer to cradle your head against his, at how he’s right there and he isn’t pushing you away.
“Wasn’t right, what you did. But we can’t make the right decisions all the time. I know you thought you were doing us a favor, but thinking you weren’t worth the effort? Now that’s a fuckin’ lie, baby. Woulda learned all kinds of phone voodoo to talk to you, and it would have been worth every damn secon’ of my time if it saved you from whatever the hell New York has done to ya. Staying awake every night and cryin’ in bed?” He tuts disapprovingly, continuing: “Shoulda called me, honey. How’s this: let’s get into bed now, an’ I’ll make you those pancakes tomorrow mornin’, I promise. And we can figure it out from there, okay?” And it takes you a second to process the fact that everything’s okay, before you’re nodding and your face is scrunching into a sob. His hands are immediately cradling you on either cheek as he’s shushing you softly, moving closer to move you into his lap. You were right. No matter how far you went, nothing could replace this right here. This; Joel; Sarah. After a long, tiring, painful eight months, you were finally home.
hello loves, as always - thank you for reading. comment your thoughts or find me on ao3. stay hydrated and have a great day! taglist: @imherefordeanandbones @theywhowriteandknowthings @suckerforfanfic (sorry this tag wasn't working earlier)
#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x you#joel miller x female reader#tlou fanfiction#the last of us#the last of us x reader#the last of us fanfiction#tlou hbo#the last of us fic#joel miller fluff#joel miller angst#joel miller x reader#joel miller/reader#sarah miller#joel miller/you#no outbreak au
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domestic fluff with sleepy abby😭🙏🏼
I just woke up so I decided this was the perfect way to start the morning. Tysm for the request!! There are no warnings as this is completely just fluff. I really enjoyed writing this one. :))) this is just a short blurb but I think y’all will like it. Have a nice day 🫶
It was 9am on a Sunday summer morning. The window was open, allowing the early birds to share their songs. There wasn’t too much traffic outside, just enough for it to be a comforting background noise.
You stirred awake, feeling the warmth of your fiancé wrapped around your back. Smiling to yourself, you turned around in Abby’s arms to face her.
“Morning beautiful.” You whispered to Abby. However Abby was still dead to the world.
“Abby~” you whispered in a sing-song voice. “Cmon love we need to get up, we have that lunch with my parents to discuss our wedding.” You explained softly, rubbing Abby’s face gently trying to raise your sleepy fiancé from her slumber.
“Mmm…no..” Abby mumbled, almost a groan. She wrapped her arms around your waist tighter. “I think I’ll stay here with you in bed a little longer” she mumbled, her morning voice coating every word.
“As much as I’d love to, we still need to get ready. The Uber is gonna be here in an hour.” She insisted, trying to persuade her stubborn fiancé.
“Ughhh…” Abby groaned. Why did we agree on such an early time for this brunch?” She complained.
“You know my parents, they love an early morning.” You said before hopping out of bed to get ready as you walked into the bathroom. When you came back out, Abby was back asleep in bed.
Rolling your eyes, you jump onto her hips, straddling her and start tickling her. “You wanna do this the hard way, fine I’ll do this the hard way.” You announced, with a large smirk on your face.
Abby burst out giggling and squirming under you, trying to stop you. (In all seriousness she could stop you if she wanted but she decided to let you have your fun).
“Okay okay I’m up baby” Abby laughed out, trying to catch her breath. She grabbed you by the waist and threw you onto the bed next to her playfully, as she hopped onto you. “I really wish your parents could wait an hour or two. I think that I could just-“ she spoke before collapsing her weight into you, cuddling you with a big bear hug.
“AHhhh!! Abby- babe I can’t breath-!” You giggled, trying to wiggle out from under her.
“Alright alright. But we better be able to lay in tomorrow.” Abby threatened with a smirk.
“We have work tomorrow.” You reminded her.
“We can take the day off.” She finished, walking to the bathroom to get ready.
#abby anderson#abby the last of us#abby tlou#abby x reader#modern au#fiancé abby#no outbreak au#sleepy Abby#fluff#blurb
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thinking about carnal joel tonight
image source
#and I’m thinking about you#and I miss you!#and I know you understand but im still sorry I’ve been on hiatus#I’m slowly starting to show up again hehe#joel miller#pedro pascal#tlou#the last of us#joel miller x you#joel miller fanfiction#tlou fanfiction#joel miller x y/n#carnal#carnal!ioel#smut#pedro pascal characters#pedro boys#the last of us fic#no outbreak!joel miller#no outbreak au
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Call It What You Want: Chapter One
Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine
pairing: nobreakout!joel x f!ofc (Violet Fletcher)
rating: explicit, MDNI 18+
word count: 2.1k
summary: Seeking solace from a painful breakup, Violet relocates to a tranquil town, purchasing a neglected house to renovate. In her new neighborhood, she befriends Harlow, who introduces her to Joel, a gruff and seasoned contractor with a heart of gold. Despite Joel's initial grumpiness, Violet finds herself drawn to his expertise and hidden kindness.
As Violet immerses herself in home renovations alongside Joel, their dynamic begins to shift, with Joel unexpectedly opening himself up to the possibility of love. Their budding relationship faces challenges as shadows from their pasts emerge, testing their newfound connection.
warnings/tags: nothing for now! just lots of light and airy fluff and a meet-cute! but don't worry, it's gonna get dirty 😈! oh, I guess age gap? yeah, that one.
a/n: alright, i've had MAJOR writer's block for a couple years now. I tried to write a Ted Lasso fic last year, but quickly lost steam. But somehow Pedge worked his magic on me and I'm already nine chapters in on this story and 25k words and I'm just now posting it! I hope y'all enjoy. This story means the world to me rn. <3
My keys jingled in the door, and I couldn’t help but let out an aggravated sigh. This was at least the third time this week that the front door was sticking. I pinched the bridge of my nose and sighed again, knowing my fate: I would have to crawl through the kitchen window.
Again.
As I walked around the back to go in through the kitchen window, I heard a voice calling my name. I looked across the street and saw my neighbor Harlow. She was standing on the last step of her front porch. One of her hands was held up to her brow as a temporary visor, blocking her eyes from the sun. She was shaking her head at me with a big, stupid grin.
“Girl, is that front door stuck again?” she asked, humor dripping from her faint southern drawl.
I sighed, crossing my arms in defeat and shifting my weight to one hip.
“Is there any use in lying to you at this point?” I called back in response.
She let out a loud laugh. “At least this time I caught you before you god forbid get stuck in that damn kitchen window again, ass up and legs flailing.”
I laughed at her comment and placed a hand awkwardly over my face in embarrassment. Two days prior I had gotten stuck climbing through the kitchen window when the front door had been jammed again, Harlow coming to my rescue.
“And I thought you had “finally fixed” anyway?” she asked, doing air quotes with her hands.
“I did!”
“And how is that working out for you?”
I shook my head with a laugh and flipped her the bird.
“Well, why don’t you come over and I’ll make us some breakfast?” she said, motioning me to come over to her, “and then you are going to let me call my friend who will come and fix your door. And I’m not letting you tell me no this time.”
I knew there was no saying no to her.
----
“Wait, so you’re telling me you just sautee mushrooms and onions, and then put it between puff pastry and a slab of beef?”
I nodded with a giggle. “Mmhmm. And then you brush the meat with mustard as well.”
Harlow’s mouth dropped open.
“I’ll make it for you sometime!” I told her excitedly, “I haven’t made it since culinary school, but I loved it.”
The doorbell rang and interrupted us. Harlow shot up from her seat excitedly.
“He’s here!” she said as she made her way towards the front door. She paused for a minute and turned to face me.
“Okay, just a warning real quick. Don’t be put off by the fact that he might be a bit of a curmudgeon,” she giggled.
“A curmudgeon? That’s such a specific brand of grump,” I said with a chuckle. She shrugged her shoulders before turning back around to get the door.
The doorbell rang a second time and I heard Harlow shout, “I’m coming! Be patient, Jesus…”
I giggled to myself and took a long drink of my coffee. Before I was able to set my mug down on the table, I looked up to see Harlow walk back into the kitchen, a tall man following behind her.
“Do you want some coffee Joel?” she asked him. I watched as he crossed his arms and leaned against the frame of the doorway.
“Yes, please,” he replied, emphasizing the please.
I started to stand up to introduce myself, but he caught my eye and put a hand up to stop me.
“Oh, no need to get up on my behalf,” he said, stopping me. I sat back down as he walked the few steps between us and held his hand out to me.
I took his hand in mine and he gave me a firm handshake. I almost missed him introducing himself to me. I was too focused on how the pads of his hand and fingers were callused, and how it felt against my smooth skin.
“I’m Joel.”
“Hi, I’m Violet,” I replied, thankful that at least the autopilot in my head was paying attention. A big smile spread on his face, causing his eyes to squint and get crinkly in the corners.
“As in the Violet that lives across the street in the 1940s fixer-upper?” He had the same faded southern accent that Harlow did. They had known each other for a long time.
“I feel bad that you seem to know more about me than I know about you,” I said, trying to not come across awkwardly. Joel took a seat and let out an airy chuckle.
“Oh don’t worry, there’s not much to know about me,” he said sincerely.
“We both know that’s not true,” Harlow interjected. She sat down at the end of the table between Joel and me, handing him his coffee.
“Thank you,” he said almost in relief.
I tried my hardest not to stare at Joel, but I caught myself looking him up and down more than once as we sat at the table and talked.
“Wait, so what’s goin’ on?” he asked, setting his now empty coffee mug down on the table. I sighed before tucking my hair behind my ear.
“Okay, so the original door knob kept catching and jamming. Something having to do with the original door knob not lining up correctly when it's closed. I thought putting a new door knob and re-aligning it would work. But then I tried to open my door when I got open, and it was stuck again,” I explained, “so I think it’s past me just YouTubing answers.”
“Well it’s a good thing that Joel here is a carpenter,” Harlow said, patting him on the shoulder. He smiled another crinkled smile at her.
“Retired carpenter, but yes,” he said, giving her a friendly wink, “but I can fix that. I bet you anything your doorway is slackin’ and need a new door. Either way, I’m sure I can fix it.”
“Are you sure? I don’t want to be a bother-”
“If it was going to be a bother to me, I wouldn’t have come here in the first place,” he said with a knowing smirk. I tried my hardest to keep my blushing to a minimum, but my cheeks still grew warm.
Joel stood up and clapped his hands, rubbing them together excitedly. “Alright ladies, let's get up and go look at this door.” We all got up and exited the house, making our way across the street to mine.
I smiled up at the house as we made our way to the front door. Sometimes I still couldn’t believe it was mine. The house had been barely used for almost a decade. Each one of the five bedrooms needed to be redone. And the two bathrooms. And the sitting rooms. It was a lot of work, but worth it. Not to mention a dilapidated house was cheaper to buy than a ready-to-move-in one. I saw it as a way that I get to make the house exactly how I wanted it.
Once we were at the door, Joel held his hand out to me.
“Key please,” he said, locking eyes with me as he did. I fumbled into my pocket, pulled the key out, and placed it in his hand. “Thanks.”
He put the key in the keyhole and tried to turn it, but it wouldn’t budge. He tried turning it the other way, but it still didn’t move. I sighed.
“How badly did I fuck it up?” I asked. He let out a chuckle.
“You didn’t fuck it up, the house did,” he said, giving me a reassuring look. I watched as he pointed out areas around the frame on the wall, “I guarantee you it’s like I said, slacking in these places and putting the door off balance.”
“So what's the fix?” I asked, “Is it going to be intense?”
“Not at all. It’s a project I could do and get done by this afternoon. I just need to go get some things for it,” he said, still looking at the wall and assessing. “But I need to look at it from the inside before I can tell. Is there a way to get in?”
Harlow giggled. “Through the kitchen window. I had to help rescue her the other day, though.”
"I’ll give you a boost this time then,” he said with a smirk.
The three of us made our way around the back of the house, and I shimmied open the window just enough for me to fit through. Joel squatted down, laced his fingers together, and looked up at me.
“Ready?” he asked. I nodded in response. I took a deep breath, placed my hands on Joel’s shoulders, and then my foot in his hands.
“Three, two, one, up.” On ‘up’ I jumped with my foot on the ground as he simultaneously lifted me. I was taken aback a little by how effortlessly he did so, and how I could feel muscles through his shirt.
I grabbed onto the bottom of the windowsill and pulled myself up as Joel continued to push. He led the foot that was in his hands to his shoulder, where I was able to give myself a final boost and get through the window. I grabbed onto the edge of the counter inside and pulled myself the rest of the way in, accidentally landing in a thud on the black and white kitchen floor.
“You okay?” Joel and Harlow shouted in unison.
“I’m fine!” I called back as I got myself to my feet. I peeked out of the window to look at them. “I’m going to go find an easier window for you two to climb through and get it ready.”
I ran towards the front of the house, looking for a window that was lower and easier to get through. I decided on one of the windows that lined the porch. I haphazardly ripped the screen from the window and unlocked it. After opened it I stuck my head out and shouted, “Over here, you two!”
Once Harlow and Joel crawled into the house, Joel immediately headed for the front door.
“Have you decided on a paint color for this room yet?” Harlow asked me, looking around the room we were in. I shook my head.
“I’ve decided to keep the wallpaper. I’m just going to clean it and touch up the trim,” I told her with a big smile. She looked around the room at the wallpaper in question, wincing a little at the bold gold pattern on the walls.
“So, I was right,” Joel said, peeking his head around into the room. He nudged his head for me to come see. I swallowed the butterflies down into my stomach and went into the foyer. He nudged his head again before crouching down by the door knob. I closed the space between us and followed suit, crouching down so that I was at eye level with Joel and the doorknob.
Joel pointed his finger at where the door and the frame joined. “See how it’s not lining up, it's just a little too low.”
I watched as he stood up and grabbed onto the knob with both hands. With a grunt, he lifted the door and turned it at the same time. To my happy surprise, the door opened with no problem. Joe took a step back and placed his hands on his hips, looking at the door with a sense of accomplishment.
“So, a new doorframe?” I asked as I got to my feet. He replied with a “mmhmm.”
“Yep. I just need to take some measurements of the door and the frame. I know I have enough spare wood at my place, but I’ll need a new door. Did you say you have the original hardware?”
I nodded. “How much is a new door going to cost? I can get you the money for it.”
He shook his head. “Nah, don’t worry. I know a guy where I can get a good door for cheap. Consider it a housewarming gift.”
Harlow and I sat on my front porch as we watched Joel drive off in the direction of the woodshop.
“So, I thought you said he was a curmudgeon?” I said, keeping my gaze ahead.
“He is. Usually.”
She nudged my shoulder with hers, causing me to sway to the side. I straightened up and finally looked over at her just in time to nudge her back, biting at my bottom lip.
Usually. We’ll have to see what that means.
#pedro pascal#pedro pascal fanfic#pedro pascal fanfiction#joel miller#joel miller x oc#tlou hbo#the last of us#the last of us hbo#joel miller smut#joel miller fanfic#no outbreak!joel miller#no outbreak au
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Good Morning
no outbreak!joel miller x fem!afab!reader
Mornings with Joel are wonderful.
part 1
tw: smut!, fingering, p in v sex, unprotected sex, crying, sex with feelings, not proofread, soft Joel.
word count: 4.7k
MDNI!
masterlist
–
Mornings with Joel were quickly becoming your favorite despite their rarity.
After the night of your mother’s wedding you’d never expected to actually have anything come from it. Maybe another hookup for either one of you to blow off steam, but nothing that actually was meaningful. So when Joel had called you and sounded so nervous to ask you on a date six months ago, your heart melted and you excitedly agreed.
The date was precious, Joel had chosen a place that was fancy enough to make him put on a navy blue sport coat and use gel to style the wonderful mess of his curls. He had been awkward in all the cutest ways, blushing and bashful as though the two of you hadn’t already slept together
He was so crestfallen when you’d suggested that you get the check instead of ordering one of the flouncy, expensive desserts, his dark eyes had dropped to the tablecloth as he quietly mumbled his agreement. Of course, you’d suggested that you have the delicious and, more importantly, free pint of cookie dough ice cream that you kept in your freezer, some part of you intent on the fact that you knew you were taking Joel home at the end of the date.
Six months later, you were waking up luxuriously in his bed.
He only shared the morning with you when Sarah was gone, sleeping over at a friend’s house or staying with his brother, Tommy, for the night. You’d only stayed over a handful of times, each time feeling just as giddy and special as the first. More than once you had imagined getting to stay longer than just one night, the night turning into the weekend and the weekend turning into the week and the week turning into you just making a home with Joel and the teenager you’d seen photos of all over his house.
In time, you hoped.
But this morning, waking up was a wonderful thing. It was still relatively cool in the mornings in Austin, the sunlight painting your eyelids orange as you stretched. His mattress was so soft, your body sinking into the fluffed topper. The sun-warmed sheets were wrapped around you, keeping off the chill of the morning as you finally opened your eyes.
You could see the dust motes floating in the shaft of light through the parted curtains, the brightness of it making you blink slowly as you rolled onto your back. Joel’s room was surprisingly cozy, the walls painted a deep blue with a few paintings of southwestern landscapes hung up. There were framed posters from concerts he’d been to as well, mostly acoustic guitar gigs in open-air parks. He’d taken you to one as your second date, the poster proudly framed and hung up next to the large window.
Joel was still asleep, snoring softly as he lay partially sprawled on his stomach. You’d forced Joel to see a musical with you the night before, plying him with drinks and a steak dinner that he begrudgingly let you buy for him. The musical was fine, Joel distracting you through most of it by just having his thick arm curled around your shoulders as it rested on top of the seatback.
The night ended in your favorite way: the two of you tangled up in Joel’s truck because you just couldn’t wait until you made it back to his house. He practically begged you to stay the night, his huge hands pulling you over the threshold and sweet kisses stamped to your lips and cheeks.
How could you say no to this man?
He mumbled something in his sleep, reaching out and curling an arm around your waist. You were yanked close to him, his skin hot even through the stolen Pearl Jam shirt you were wearing. A quiet hum echoed from your throat as you snuggled into him. It was a sign for you to relax, to attempt to reverse your early bird ways as you burrowed into his warmth.
You drifted in and out of a light sleep, his snores just barely quiet enough that they felt more like background noise. Every time you opened your eyes another thirty minutes had passed, Joel’s hand slowly creeping from your hip to rest against your stomach beneath the tee shirt. He held you close, spooning with his right arm acting as your pillow.
It was the feeling of Joel’s aquiline nose pressed against the side of your neck and a loose, open-mouthed kiss against your skin that finally woke you up fully. His wide hand clutched at your waist beneath your shirt, pressing your back close to his chest.
“Good morning,” you mumbled, reaching up to comb your fingers through his dark curls as you blinked in the bright sunlight. You rolled back toward him, your shoulder blade pressed against his chest as you laid partially on your back. As soon as Joel heard your voice he chuckled, grinding his clothed cock against your ass as you came to.
“Mornin’ baby,” Joel murmured against your cheek, his voice raspy from sleep. The feeling of his lips on your skin sent a shiver down your spine. His hand left your waist, the shirt you wore bunching up on his forearm as he cupped the swell of your left breast in his palm.
Your head turned toward his, you hand in his hair tightening as you arched into his touch. “Joel.” You already sound wrecked just from him thumbing at your nipple, rolling it beneath the calloused pad of his finger before squeezing your entire breast under the stretch of his grip. It was always the best way to get your plush thighs squeezing together.
The press of his smile felt intimate as his beard tickled the curve of your jaw. His right arm bent, the scoop of his palm cradling your left shoulder in the loose form of a headlock. You loved when he held you like this, the column of your neck in the curve of his elbow as your bodies pressed closer and closer.
Joel’s hand moved from your breast to trace down the soft skin of your stomach, snapping the waistband of your panties playfully. You giggled, your hand wrapping around the forearm pressed against your collarbone as he groped a handful of your ass.
“This is nice,” you whispered as you lifted your top leg and curled it back around his hip, giving Joel better access to your already wet cunt. He grabbed at your parted inner thighs, making you whimper.
“Thought I deserved a morning treat for going to that musical last night,” Joel said, making you huff and roll your eyes.
You turned your head just enough to catch his mouth in a needy kiss, whining against him as he continued to grope at you. The curve of his hand from the tip of his thumb to the pad of his forefinger slotted into the crease where your thigh met your hip. His fingertips just barely brushed under the lace trim of your panties, just enough contact to tease you.
Joel loved to take his time in the mornings. Every touch was slow and calculated despite your hips impatiently rolling in the grip of his hand. He was so stubborn, smiling as he squeezed and kept you steady. You locked your lips with his, noisily smacking together as your noses pressed into each other’s cheeks.
Ever the benevolent god, he finally inched his fingers beneath the soaked gusset of your panties. A stuttered whimper pulled from your throat just to be absorbed by Joel’s mouth.
There was a sightless exploration under your fingertips, your hand leaving the thick curls of his hair to snake beneath his arm. You could feel the practical, working-man muscles beneath his tanned skin as you traced the cap of his shoulder.
He already looked smug as you pulled away, your lips parted and shiny with his saliva. You let out a soft, punched moan as his fingers smeared wetness up and down the slick seam of your sex, your head spinning. Your fingers dug into his shoulder, your other hand tightening around his forearm. Joel was smirking at your reaction, his dark eyes watching you fall apart at the simplest of touches.
“You are sensitive this morning,” Joel murmured, the deep rasp of his voice wrapping around you like a warm coat. You didn’t bother denying it, just nodding with another whimper as he trapped your clit between the pads of his pointer and middle fingers, rubbing tight circles against it.
You nodded dizzily, not quite trusting yourself to form a response as you spread your knees further apart. Joel chuckled against the hinge of your jaw, his hips still languidly pressing his erection against the side of your ass.
Your hand slid from his shoulder in a path that snaked down Joel’s side, feeling every ridge of his ribcage and the softness of the pudge on his belly. The smattering of wiry hair beneath his navel served as a guide as you reached behind your back, your thumb hooking into the boxers he wore to sleep and pulling them down just enough that one half of the waistband caught around his wide, hairy thigh.
Joel was already hard when you wrapped your hand around the base of him, a choked groan resonating from him against your hairline as your pointer finger fit into the valley on the underside of his already leaking head.
With a clumsiness from your hopelessly tangled limbs, you brought your hand to your mouth and spat in the scoop of your fingers before returning them to slick his cock with your warm saliva. “Baby, you’re gonna be the death of me,” Joel sighed, his bicep flexing against your neck and his hand tightening on your shoulder.
The two of you were a panting mess as you touched one another, the slick sounds of his dick in your hand and his fingers on your cunt filling the room. The pace he set was a lazy one, his thick fingers circling your clit before dipping down to your dripping cunt to gather more slick. You followed his lead, slowly pumping your closed fist from base to tip. You could feel the thick veins bulging beneath your fingers.
His brown eyes were so warm, half-lidded and staring at you with an affection that knew no bounds. The intimacy of his gaze made you lurch forward to kiss him, your nose bumping against his as lips met teeth.
Joel pressed two fingers into you, the stretch was divine as you moaned against his mouth. You matched each thrust of his fingers with a roll of your wrist, the two of you leaning into one another as you shared your breaths.
You knew you were leaking like a faucet, soaking Joel’s hand down to his wrist. His slow pace was getting you worked up beyond the point of still having dignity. You were whimpering pathetically, your hips rocking against the motion of his hand with desperation. The squelch of your cunt was loud, overshadowing your moans and Joel’s grunts and the soft rustling of sheets.
The movement of your hand started to get clumsy and uncoordinated, your focus splintering between jerking Joel off and the way he was making you feel. He chuckled, turning his head to whisper in your ear. “That’s it baby,” Joel mumbled in his deep gravel tone. “Can feel you squeezing my fucking fingers.”
His thumb moved forward to press against your swollen clit, your spine arching off the bed as the pleasure ricocheted up your body. You couldn’t help the way your eyes squeezed shut, your deep, syrupy breaths turning into shallow gasps. The gasp of your voice came out too loud and shrill, your free hand clenching in the pillows about your head. “Joel, oh my–!”
A groan left him, the pad of his thumb firmly strumming over your clit as his fingers crooked inside you.
Everything was becoming too much. You were merely holding the base of his cock, too overwhelmed by the euphoria coming from Joel’s hand to divide your attention. Solace was sought in the curve of his neck and shoulder, your body canting to one side so you could bury your face against him. Your muscles braced around him, everything becoming tighter and tighter as you huffed small whimpers against the delicate skin of his clavicle.
“Joel!” The tension became too much, your muscles convulsing and your back breaking on you repeating his name like a broken record. You rode the jolts of your orgasm snugly against Joel’s fingers, intimately grinding your clit against the joint where his thumb met his palm.
You sank down from your high, bonelessness seeping into your limbs from head to toe. It was still hard to breathe properly, Joel’s fingers smearing messily up and down your cunt in an effort to soothe the aftershocks as he pressed kisses against your jaw. Clarity returned with slow breaths, attentive eyes met over your shoulder.
He looked pleased.
“Love making you scream like that, baby,” Joel murmured as your hand resumed jerking him off. Your own wetness smeared against your thigh as he manipulated your legs so he could take your panties off, tossing them over the side of his bed. “You always sound so desperate.”
You rolled your eyes, a tired smile stretching across your lips. “I think you’re getting too cocky for your own good, old man,” you said with a grin, gently kissing him. He pulled your leg back to where it was, spreading you apart so your calf was pressed against the small of his back while the outside of your other thigh was snug against the sheets.
Joel chuckled good naturedly, his free hand pushing his briefs down enough to kick them off with his feet. The whole motion was uncoordinated, jostling the two of you together as he settled back next to you. Another set of kisses were stamped against your cheek and throat.
“So now I’m an old man?” Joel asked, a dark eyebrow arching as he waited for your response. He moved your hand away from his cock, stroking himself from base to tip as his forearm squished into the fat of your thigh.
“Definitely,” you said with a soft smirk, your nose bumping against his as you placed a sweet kiss on the corner of his mouth.
He snorted softly, shaking his head. “I’ll show you just what this old man can do,” Joel said, his southern drawl low as he threatened you. His other hand moved from your shoulder to palm at your breast through the worn fabric of the shirt you wore, kneading it in the wide stretch of his fingers.
Your bratty response died in your throat, killed by the drag of the blunt head of Joel’s cock against your cunt. He snickered, mercilessly nudging your oversensitive clit with it.
“Please,” you gasped, the plea slipping from your mouth before you even realized it had gathered there. The hot slide of his cock between your thighs almost made your eyes roll back, your cunt fluttering around nothing as he teased you. His hand pressed just below your belly button, making it hard for you to angle your hips just right.
“Please what, baby?” Joel asked, the wiry hair of his mustache tickling the shell of your ear. He was driving you nuts, your nerves starting to fray as you struggled against the iron hold of his hand. You knew he wanted you to beg.
You tried to be stubborn, whining pathetically as he continued to fuck your thighs. Arousal was pouring out of you like you’d sprung a leak, making your inner thighs slick as his thick cock sawed in the hinge between your thigh and your sex. You were all kinds of worked up before, but the almost stimulation combined with Joel’s grunts in your ear felt like sick torture.
It only takes you a few more thrusts for your resolve to crack. “Joel, fuck, please fuck me,” you gasped, too blinded by your horniness to keep your composure as you strained your hips against the prison of his hand.
The laugh he let out was condescending. “There she is,” he purred against you, the smile clear in his tone. His hand moved from below your navel to adjust his cock so the blunt head pressed against your cunt. “You want this?” he asked, still not pressing his hips to yours hard enough to actually push inside.
“Yeah, yes,” you sighed plaintively, your eyelashes fluttering as you almost started to cry. It was humiliating how desperate you were, but you were too far gone to care.
Joel rooted himself deep in you with a solid thrust, the stretch and the sudden feeling of finally being full making your chin drop to your sternum. The sound that ripped from you was animal, your hips shoving back against Joel’s as his chest curved around your shoulders.
He fell into rhythm immediately, making your bedhead even worse as you rocked against the mattress and his pillows. The arm curled beneath your throat pinned your shoulder blades to his chest, the two of you plastered together like sardines despite the size of the bed. His other hand reached forward to curl around your belly, fingertips pressing into your skin.
It felt like his cock was in your sternum has he steadily fucked into you, coaxing gasps from your throat as you clutched desperately at his strong arms. His nose nudged beneath the hinge of your jaw, his breath cooling the sweat accumulating there.
It was only when he was inside of you that you realized how badly you needed it. Fucking Joel made you feel complete, the aching emptiness being chased away as he gathered up all the loose and ragged pieces of you and put you back together with every drag of his cock against each slippery ridge inside of you.
You didn’t know if it was gratitude or reverence that made your breath nearly stop.
“Feels like this pussy of yours was fucking made for me,” Joel groaned into your ear, drawing back and rolling his pelvis against you. The clap of his hips and your ass was getting impossibly louder, accompanied by the wet squelch of his cock pushing deeper and deeper into you.
He dug his teeth into your neck, sucking a sloppy hickey against the delicate skin as you started to fuck your hips back onto him. The head of his cock kept smashing into that spot that made you feel like mush, satisfied groans muffled in the back of your neck as your toes curled. You were seeing stars, one of your hands bracing against the headboard in a pathetic attempt to get some stability to anchor yourself to.
Joel’s big hand left your belly, dipping down to spread the messy lips of your sex. The firm roll of your clit between his fingers made tension knit in your abdomen again. Your lungs expanded, the breath stuck in your throat on instinct, sharp gasps pushing out of you. The spiral of heat forming in your stomach tightened, almost so tight you could hardly see.
Your cunt fluttered and tightened around him desperately, your body preparing for a crash. Joel moaned in anticipation, his thrusts took on an eager purpose as he kissed sloppily at your neck.
“Love you,” you gasped, your nails digging into the thick muscle of his forearms as you tried to stay afloat.
The fat, tight plunge of Joel’s cock in you was maddening. Dizzying. You could feel yourself almost start to drool against the sheets. You were hazy and out of your mind as he rut into you again and again and again.
“I love you too,” he muttered in your ear, raspy and deep. You felt his forehead press against your clothed shoulder, sweat absorbing into the fabric. A loud moan echoed from him, making your pussy clench as he watched your ass ripple with each slam of his hips. He always told you it was one of his favorite parts of you, stretchmarks and dimples and all.
He mercilessly ground into your g-spot as he circled your clit with the pads of his middle and pointer fingers, making the ache in your abdomen more pronounced. You were clenched so tight around his cock, the need to orgasm almost making you feel like you were going to cry. The tightness in your core foretold you that it would be a big one, one of the orgasms that you needed Joel to talk you through as you came back down to earth.
You tipped your head back, fitting it neatly between Joel’s ear and the mattress as you whined through clenched teeth. The coarse, wiry hair of his beard scratched your cheek with each thrust, but you couldn’t bring yourself to worry about it. It was like you were a bow drawn too tight, ready to snap at any moment.
There was a startling moment of clarity as your toes curled, a deep part of you realizing how safe you felt like this. Pinned to the length of Joel’s sturdy frame, sweat pooling in the few areas where your skin connected. You were wanted and protected and needed and craved, it was the same feeling you had on the first night when you and Joel had hooked up at the wedding. You felt it every time since.
Your throat was tightening with a feeling deeper than pleasure as your field of focus narrowed down to solely Joel. His thrusts were calculated and methodical, you could feel the cords of muscle bunching in his abdomen with every deep press of his huge cock.
It was almost too much, leaving you teetering on the edge of a precipice as Joel refused to leave you an inch of space. Your hips twitched against his forearm, part of you trying to get away from the blinding feeling of his cock. It was impossible, the length of him staggering as he stretched you over it. You’d think that you’d get more used to it, but it still felt like the first time every time.
Something in your mind broke, tears starting to leak out of your eyes as he bullied your swollen clit and relentlessly pounded into you. “Joel, oh, oh… Joel, please–” you gasped on an exhale, your voice catching on the edge of a sob. “Ohmygod, Joel. Love you, I love you, Joel–”
Joel responded by doubling his efforts, pulling your hips back to meet his frantic thrusts. You clung to whatever parts of him you could hold, one hand reaching back to squeeze his hip as you dug your nails into the forearm pressed into your collarbone.
“That’s it. That’s my fucking good, perfect girl,” he hissed into your ear, the praise making your head spin. There was a hitch to his tone that told you he was just as close as you, running his mouth like a madman. “Christ, don’t know how I ever went without this sweet little pussy in my life. She’s sucking me in and fucking creaming all over me.”
It’s the nonsense that finally pushes you over the edge, a cry that sounded more wounded than pleasured rocking out of you. You rocked your hips back against his, your cunt seizing around his cock as tears leaked out of the corners of your eyes and soaked into the sheets. Joel held you tighter, abandoning your clit to curl an arm around your waist and keep you steady as your legs shook against him.
“So fucking good for me,” Joel said through grit teeth, voice like honey. You could hardly hear him over the pounding of your heart, listening to him like you were both underwater. He kept talking, mumbling things against your skin that you couldn’t understand as he kept going.
He was taking what he needed from you now, your body going mostly limp as he bounced you up and down his cock and grunted in your ear. Your nerves were frayed beyond belief, your breaths shallow as the remnants of your orgasm fizzed in your peripheral vision. His fingers dug into your flesh, probably leaving bruises beneath them as he fucked into you like an animal.
It was too much, your hands weakly reaching back to push at Joel’s thick torso as you protested. “S’too much, fuck–” you sobbed, your voice hoarse and breathless and broken. He fucked you stupid, the weight of thinking all the time finally leaving you as every thought left your head.
Joel shattered, the rhythmic pulse of your drooling pussy finally enough to coax him over the edge as his cock jerked inside of you. He groaned, pressing his open mouth against your throat and scraping his blunt teeth against it as you felt him inside you. The cage of his arms was tight around you through it, his hips slowing down without ever stopping as he leisurely ground into you.
You were still wrapped in your own pleasure, your body tightening and shivering with the aftershocks. He shivered behind you, panting as he came down with you. The ringing in your ears was loud, color slowly bleeding back into the room as Joel finally stopped moving.
He stayed there for some time, holding you to his chest as his other hand ran up and down the long line of the thigh that was still slung over his hip.
“Good morning,” he mumbled as though you hadn’t already gone through the song and dance, pressing sweet kisses to your throat and shoulder as you caught your breath.
You sighed, feeling red hot come ooze around Joel’s cock and down his balls as you started to relax. It took you a moment to formulate a thought, your mind having gone slack with the rest of you. “M’leaking,” you blurted stupidly, your voice a slur as your grip on Joel started to loosen.
Joel snorted, the sound feeling loud and harsh compared to everything that just happened. He made no move to pull out, nuzzling at your shoulder lovingly. You made no effort to move away, twisting your shoulders so you could look at Joel better.
He was smiley, his dimples showing just over his patchy beard as his eyes met yours. They were half-lidded and so warm, making you reach out to stroke your thumb over his cheek.
“I wish we could do this every morning,” you said without thinking, not considering the implications.
Before you could close up and apologize, Joel nodded. “We’d never get anything done, though,” he said playfully, slipping out of you so he could mash you against him. You felt a little sorry for the loss, come and slick dripping down your thighs. “But it would be worth it to stay like this.”
Joel’s sappy, soppy moments were rare. You tried to cover the hitch of your breath by squirming your way closer to him, pressing idle kisses to his sternum as you did.
“Maybe you could meet her,” he mumbled against the crown of your head after a little while. Your eyes widened as you pulled back to properly look at him, assessing the sincerity in his expression. He meant it, a soft smile curling his lips upward as he waited for your reaction.
“Yeah, I’d love to,” you breathed, your own grin breaking out on your face. “I can’t wait to meet Sarah.”
He pulled you against him, not moving fast enough for you to miss the spark of pure joy in his expression. “She’s gonna love you.” He squeezed you lovingly, stamping another kiss to your head as he took a deep breath against your hair.
You nodded, curling impossibly closer to Joel as you let the rest of the morning soaked around you. “M’gonna love her,” you sighed, the words sounding muffled as your cheek squished against his chest.
Someone’s stomach rumbled, you couldn’t tell whether it was yours or Joel’s. With your other needs sated, hunger began to crop up in the two of you.
Joel spoke first, his deep voice thick. “How about we discuss it over breakfast?”
It only took you a second to agree, yanking him out of bed with you and dragging him to the attached bathroom to clean up. He laughed at your eagerness, bracing a hand against the wall before leaning down to capture you in a kiss. It was passionate, his tongue licking between your parted lips. Your shoulder blades pressed against the tiled wall of the bathroom, your hands finding his cheeks and holding him closer.
“Only if we get pancakes,” you countered as you parted, your breaths heavy.
“You’ve got a deal, baby.”
#joel miller#joel miller smut#joel miller x female reader#reader insert#no outbreak!joel miller#no outbreak au#joel miller x you#joel tlou#joel miller x reader#joel miller x reader smut#joel miller fic#pedro pascal#tlou fanfiction#tlou#the last of us
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WAKING UP WITH DOMESTIC!JOEL.
no outbreak + outbreak versions. Both sweet and tender in their own way
EEP
No Outbreak;
Sunlight streams through the gaps in your curtains, shining right into your closed eyes. You groan at the intrusion, rolling over to face Joel and curl into him. Without opening his eyes, he drapes an arm over you, pulling you into him firmly. He groans sleepily, gravely and deep in the morning. You nudge him, hoping for some attention. Joel grunts and nudges you back, wanting to fall back into his full slumber. You whisper his name. "What, baby?" He sounds annoyed, he never does like to be woken up. You smile at the sound of his voice, if there was one thing you were good at, it was bothering Joel Miller. "Good morning" You spoke softly, not wanting to truly wake up yourself. Joel mumbles out a "Mm. Mornin'." You giggle at his early-morning irritability and he pokes your side, causing you to squeal. Joel cringes at the shrill sound, not having thought through his actions before-hand. "Sorry, handsome." You whisper, planting a kiss on the bridge of his nose. Joel finally opens his eyes, grinning when he sees you. "You're lucky you're pretty, pumpkin." He teases, kissing your lips gently. He was so soft, so calm. Early mornings and late nights are when he's the least stressed, not quite being a part of the day yet. You giggle at his teasing praise, placing a hand on his cheek. You sigh happily, "You look so beautiful." You tell him. Joel looks shocked, truly taken aback, his cheeks are pink to the tip of his ears and his eyes are slightly wide. "You kiddin'?" He asks, hes never been called that before. You shake your head, smiling, Joel smiles too. He raises his hand to your cheek and strokes his thumb along your features before leaning in and kissing you. The kiss was full of emotion, he really apreciated you. He smushes his lips harder against yours for a moment before pulling away. "Good mornin', baby."
Outbreak;
Joel was laying on his back with an arm wrapped around you as you sleep. It was probably safe for him to sleep too, but he didn't. He never did, never more than a few hours. It was still dark outside when you stirred, squirming next to him and grunting. He looked over at your semi-sleeping form, smiling to himself for a moment. Eyes still closed, you turn to face him in the creaky bed, placing a hand on his chest, he strokes your arm where his hand lays. You blindly place a kiss against his torso, one, two, three times. He sighs. "Hey, honey." He kept his voice down, not wanting to disturb you. "Hi." You mumble lazily. Joel chuckles quietly to himself, he loves to see you unbothered, without worry. It comforts him to watch you sleep or wake up, even though he can't sleep himself. Early mornings and late nights are when he's most stressed, thinking up scenarios and solutions, planning and worrying. You try to tell him you're safe where you are, he almost believes you, too. You snuggle up further into Joels side, earning a loving squeeze from him. You look up at him sleepily. "You should sleep." You tried to tell him. He shakes his head and smiles, it doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Not tonight, my darlin'." He tells you, you grumble. Joel sighs, "Cmere, babydoll." He says as he pulls you ontop of him, with you now laying on his chest from his lap. You smile. "Hi!" Joel smiles at you, it reaches his eyes, he kisses you on the forehead. "Hi, pumpkin. How you feelin' today?" You love that he always asks you that, always ready and willing to help you with anything and everything. "M' good. Are you good?" You like to check on him too. He smiles, "I am, sweetheart. I'm good." He tells you, and he's telling the truth, too. Joel peppers kisses up and down your face, scratching you with his facial hair in the process, though you don't mind. You giggle happily, pressing a kiss to his smiling lips. Joel chuckles, "Good mornin', baby."
#joel miller#joel miller fluff#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x reader#domestic! joel miller#no outbreak!joel miller#no outbreak au
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✨Can You Please Be Mine?✨
✨Masterlist✨
Masterlist
Summary: It’s a hot summer’s day in Austin, and you’re cooling off by having a cold ice cream cone while riding the carousel at the fair. You see a handsome, older man that you think is just the hottest man you’ve ever seen, and you just wonder what it’d be like if he took you home with him.
Rating: Explicit (18+ Only MDNI)
Pairing: Joel x fem! reader
Tags: Pining, flirting, allusions to smut, summer romance, smut, reader and Joel first see each other at the fair, brushing hands, unprotected p in v, oral, fingering, heated moments, lots of sexual tension, first date
Part 1: Carousel Lights and Dreamy Brown Eyes
Part 2: Slip Into Me
Part 3
Teaser Trailer
#joel miller#joel miller smut#joel miller fic#joel miller fanfiction#joel x female reader#joel the last of us#tlou fanfiction#joel tlou#joel miller pedro pascal#no outbreak!joel miller#no outbreak au#summer love#joel smut#joel miller moodboard#joel miller series#soft dom joel#soft joel miller#joel miller pov#pedro pascal fanfiction#joel miller tlou
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Inner Youth
No Outbreak!Joel x fem!reader
Join my taglist : Masterlist
Summery: You lead an extremely shelters childhood and youth, homeschooled and not allowed to partake in a lot of things other people your age had. This has left you disconnected from your generations. Maybe that's why you like older men.
Or
Joel watched Mean Girls with you.
Warnings: Brief mentions of religious trauma and family issues stemming from that. Mentions of homophibia and sexism.
Immersibility: Reader is fem and afab.
A/N: I was homeschool v strict most of my life so this is personal lol
**************
Texas didn't often have snow, but that's climate change for you. Another thing you were taught growing up wasn't real. The snow in Texas certainly didn't help anything, no matter how many times you tried to explain to the old men at the cafe that this was actually a sign of climate change, no one listened to you. Your family certainly didn't, the first time you'd admitted you believed it was real and they called you a dirty commie. You weren't entirely sure what communism had to do with climate change, but you leaned not to question it. They didn't even want you going to college in the first place but that movie secured that you would get no support as long as you were in a "liberal indoctrination school."
Joel listened to you, though.
You'd met him while waiting tables at the cafe he often went to for lunch. Sometimes he was alone, sometimes with his brother, sometimes with his daughter, who you later learned was about your age. That's why Joel was hesitant to date you, he didn't want to be a creep.
You were hesitant to date him too, not thinking that an older, southern man was going to mesh well with your own ideals. Addmittedly, you put him in a box with all the old, southern men you grew up around. Quickly, however, you learned he was not like them.
Firstly, Joel respected women. It was shocking to you how proud he was when he told you on an early date that his daughter got into a STEM masters program. You had gone for teaching, something that placated your family because they thought you would homeschool your children just like they had homeschooled you. A masters degree was out of the question, and STEM was for men.
Another sign was when he mentioned a few of his friends and casually said "Tess, Bill and his husband Frank". Later, you'd learned one of his daughter's friends that Joel had largely taken in, Ellie, was also gay, and none of this seemed to phase Joel at all. When it came to meeting your friend who was non-binary, Joel admitted he didn't really understand being trans or gender but was willing to learn. Most importantly, however, was the fact that it didn't matter if he got it or not, he called them what they wanted to be called, and treated them with respect.
That was the thing with Joel. You learned he was a young, and even before then he was busy taking care of his younger brother after his mom dad and his dad was a useless alcohalic. Joel didn't have time to form opinions on a lot of things. All he knew was to just be kind, and go from there. When Sarah and Ellie grew up and went to college, Joel suddenly had more time to spend with men his age, and was frankly disgusted.
Hadn't those words fallen out of vogue?
Why were they talking about women like that when they were married?
You disowned your son for wearing a skirt?
It wasn't until Tommy introduced him to Tess, and through Tess Bill and Frank that he found a group of people who thought more like him. They didn't have to get it to not be a dick.
So, you and Joel made a good couple.
It was easy with him. You didn't fight, you talked things through like adults, he didn't accuse you of being hysterical or downplay your feelings, he just listened. The way you grew up made you angry and defensive, and when you explained more of this to him, he understood better.
Nights like this were your favorites. You and Joel had been making your way through several shws you thought you'd both like. Shows like Succession, Breaking Bad, Narcos, but this movie was his idea.
Lights were off, central heating was off, you and Joel using a space heater instead to heat the bedroom under a pile of covers. Texas was not equipped to handle much snow, so you were doing your part to not overwhelm the cities electricity, lest there be blackouts. You still had your own apartment, but this was a great excuse to stay with Joel most nights. Besides, he lived near the school you taught at so he drove you to work and picked you up every day. It was all so domestic.
Ellie and Sarah had visited this weekend, Sarah making a movie reference Ellie and Joel laughed at, but you didn't. This was a common occurrence. Shows and movies allowed in your home were pretty minimal, and despite the last 5 years to catch up, you still could never fully 'get' pop culture references around you. You had accepted the fact you would always be a little on the outside of your generation, especially with other girls.
When they realized you hadn't seen it, Ellie's eyes were wide as she asked, 'Really?!' and you saw Sarah subtly nudge her. Ellie meant to harm, but had less of a filter than Sarah did.
So, when Joel and you settled on the bed, you resting your head on Joel's plump belly, Joel asked if you wanted to watch Mean Girls.
"Phht, you don't wanna watch Mean Girl, Joel-y"
You knew he loved you because he lets you call him Joel-y. "Yes I do!" You feel his belly bounce with laughter under you. "It's a good movie, Used to watch it with Sarah all the time."
You're glad he convinced you, because when Regina George got hit with a bus, you laughed so hard you farted.
"I never knew how many memes came from this movie. Get in loser, we're going shoping, raise your hand if you've ever been personally victimized,"
"You go Glen Coco."
"Yeah" You giggle with a smile, an arm wrapped around the swell of his stomach like you might hold a teddy. "It's frick'n funny" All these years out of it, you still can't bring yourself to say fuck. You noticed Joel doesn't say it either. Whether it's from his southern baptist upbringing or because he knows you won't say it, you aren't sure. Ellie and Tommy certainly have no problem.
"We can keep doing this, y'know." Joel says and the movie credits roll, his hand stoking your hair.
You begin to drift off, mumbling sleepily. "Do what?"
"Watch movies and shows you missed out on. Even the girlie ones."
You cran your head to look up at him. "Hm?"
"I mean," Joel moved you off him for a moment, making you pout, but it was only long enough to turn off the tv and settle into a sleeping position. "That Sarah and Ellie are your age, I know at least the big movies and shows the kids were into."
"Joel..." You shake your head. "I love you, but you don't wanna sit around watching shitty teen movies from the 2000's with me."
He kissed the crown of your head. "And you and Frank didn't want to watch doomsday preppers with me and Bill for 5 hours but we did. I'd sit through all of Glee if it meant you felt less left out. I just want you to be happy."
Smiling, you nuzzled in against his softness, feeling safe and warm and cared for in Joel's grasp. "I mean... I wouldn't complain if you wanted to watch The Notebook..."
"The Notebook it is, baby. Now, get some sleep. First day back at school tomorrow."
You groan dramatically just to feel his chuckle again. "Those kids are lucky I love them."
"They sure are."
*****************
This was supossed to be a quick thing but then there was a long backstory and now i wanna write more XD maybe scenes of Joel recreating memories that reader never got from being homeschooled or sheltered.
I had a similar idea last year with Benny Miller actually haha.
Anway, my usual tag list BUT tagging a few people I thought may also enjoy
@fandxmslxt69 @runa-falls @k-ra @whatthefishh @ahookedheroespureheart @mikaelak @littlenosoul @stevenandmarcslove @pikapuff-316 @del-ightfulling @faretheeoscar @harriedandharassed @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @campingwiththecharmings @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @milly-louise @casa-boiardi @joeldjarin @mrs-oharaxx @pedge-page @ninebluehearts
#Joel miller#jole miller x reader#tlou#tlou fanfiction#joel fanfiction#joel miller x reader fluff#fluff#tlou fluff#the last of us#tlou hbo#caretaker joel#dad joel#joel miller x you#fem reader#joel the last of us#no outbreak!joel miller#no outbreak au#joel miller fluff#cw religous trauma
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Can I request a valentine prompt, Tommy miller x fem reader and the prompts taking a bath together and giving them a massage please?
19. giving their s/o a massage
26. a bubbly bath together
Prompt List
A/N: no outbreak
With Valentine's Day being on a weekend, you didn't expect to see Tommy much that day. However, you were surprised to wake up in your apartment and he was there, making breakfast for you.
"Tommy?"
He looks over his shoulder with a grin, "Hi, honey."
You look at the time and back at him, "You're supposed to be at work. Joel's going to flip."
He plates the pancakes he made and turns off the stove. He approaches you with a kiss, hands on your hips, "It's Valentine's Day."
"Uh huh...doesn't answer my question."
"I asked Joel if I can come in later because I wanted to surprise you with breakfast for going in."
"And he actually let you?"
"...Sarah helped convince him."
"Probably because she knows what a sap her uncle is, hm?" You wrap your arms around his neck, lips hovering over his.
"Hell yeah I am," he mumbles before kissing you again.
______________
After breakfast, you get dressed and Tommy brings you to work. You spend a majority of the day working until you clock out and Tommy picks you up again. He takes you to dinner at a restaurant thirty minutes outside of Austin. It wasn't super fancy but it was nicer than other places you've been.
Once dinner was finished, you two went back to your place. Tommy drew you a bath and was ready to let you relax, but you stopped him.
"Join me?" you batted your eyes at him and said yes. Because how could he deny you when you look at him like that?
So now you're both encased in bubbles and warm water. Your back pressed against his bare chest. You move the bubbles around the bath while the soft music from the radio plays and Tommy washes your hair.
Once rinsed off, you turn to him, "My turn."
"You don't have to, baby."
"I want to. Come on, Tommy. Please?" and there's that look again that Tommy can't deny.
So now you're behind him, washing his hair. He groans as your fingers scratch his scalp in the right spot. He's practically purring in your hands.
You rinse his hair and kiss his shoulder but you don't move back to your original spot. Instead, you decide to start to massage his shoulders.
"Shit, baby, that's good," he moans as your fingers dig into a big knot in your shoulder.
You chuckle, "Those noises sound familiar."
He snorts, "What can I say? Your hands tend to bring those noises outta me."
You giggle with a shake of your head, continuing to knead out his shoulders, "How long have you been this tense?"
"A while," he replies nonchalantly.
"Hmmm. Well, once we're done here, I'll give you a proper massage."
"You don't-"
"I want to, Tommy," you stop to hug him from behind. You whisper in his ear, "Lemme take care of you."
And for the third time that night, Tommy says yes to you because he can never say no when it comes to you.
#tommy miller x reader#tommy miller imagine#no outbreak au#gn!reader#gender neutral!reader#valentine's day drabbles
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