#joel fluff

[lilyinmysoul]

Incomprehensible

JacksonJoel x F!Reader

WC: 4k

Summary: Old man Joel is having trouble lasting a whole round on top.

Warnings: Smut, piv, sub joel, kinda angsty, comfort, Joel feels all sad and like he’s not good enough, Joel is 57 with back problems, handjob, vivid descriptions of bodily fluids, praise kink, domestic Joel, soft dom reader, reader calls Joel ‘old man’ once or twice, joel grips the headboard, (implied) age gap

Note: I’ve wanted to write subby Joel for a while, and I don’t think I went subby enough but I still love this fic. I took way too long writing it, so, no proofread. If there’s any mistakes, tell me. If you have any tips, tell me. Please reblog if you like, and if you want more fics like this, tell me, because I love my Jackson Joel and I have a kink for babying old men

As Joel trudged tiredly up the driveway, he watched the porch light flicker and dim, only to return to its original warm glow a moment later. The bulb was old and it would be difficult to find another; he didn’t want to think about it, he had a long enough list of things to do already.

As more people moved into Jackson, more babies were born, and more houses built, there was more work to be done around town and more responsibilities to be dealt with. Joel’s hair had greyed significantly in the past year, and still his patrols were getting longer. Even though his muscles felt extra sore after a long day of scavenging, he’d still have to get up the next morning and do it again.

Joel was fifty-seven two months ago, and as winter settled upon the town and rain puddles took a permanent residence on the sidewalks, he was becoming increasingly aware of it.

In recent weeks, light dustings of snow would fall from the sky, previews of the inches yet to come as the cold months approached. Joel’s heavy boots clomp against the cement path to your shared home, stepping in slush that crunches, half frozen, under his feet.

In his age, his fingers were especially sensitive to the cold, and it was likely that his brown leather gloves were the only thing protecting them from turning purple in the frosty air. Even so, he feels numb, and he rubs his covered hands against each other. Joel steps onto the porch, the only sound being his bulky shoes against the hollow wood of the deck. With a deep and breathy exhale and a glance up at the glowing window—you were awake—he fishes the house key from his pocket and slides it into the lock. It was a rewarding sound, one he looked forward to each day. It meant a night of rest, a warm plate of food, and the chance to see you.

He turns the cold brass knob and the door creaks open, emitting a squeal from its old and rusty hinges. The house was clean and tidy, but it had been built so long ago. No matter how clean the two of you kept it, the wood in the walls was weakening and the roof tiles continuing to wear under the rain. It reminded Joel of himself. He breathes in and closes the door, turning the lock as he takes in the smell, a fusion of both of your unique scents, traced with the aroma of old books and wood.

His boots are muddy, so he makes sure to rid them by the door. Under his feet, the floor creaks lightly and once you register the sound of movement downstairs, you practically prance down them.

You find him in the kitchen, still in his jacket and gloves as he leans on the counter with a glass of water. He takes a sip and places down the cup, its clink against the surface obscured by his deep, southern voice.

“Sweetheart,” he greets, the bags under his eyes deeper than usual, and his voice less steady. You could practically feel his exhaustion—now, and in weeks past. Regardless, your mouth turns up in a smile.

“Long day?” Your hand takes one of his, fingers working to peel the leather from his skin. “I made dinner. Chicken, the way you like.” You move on to his other hand before setting down the gloves and lacing your fingers with his freezing ones. You squeeze.

“Thank you, baby… s’just… freezin’ out there. Cold gives me a damn headache.” He presses a kiss to your forehead as your fingers find the brass zipper of his big brown jacket—the one he always wore and that you’d never tire of seeing him come home in. You pull down and free his strong arms as he stretches them above his head, sighing. You hear a pop from a joint of his, a hollow crack that rang out habitually each time Joel broke free from a spell of motionlessness. Soon, his jacket is forgotten and draped over a chair as you fetch a plate from the wooden cabinet.

The plates were china, their condition nearly mint and preserved for all these years. From the pot on the stove, you heap his plate with food. It was warm and steaming, and you found little as rewarding as watching him scarf down your cooking or drink down your tea after a long day of work. Perhaps it was your love language; a humble exchange for the drawers he’d fix and mend, or the shelves he’d put together when you needed more space for the trinkets he’d bring back for you, swiped from the shelf of an empty home he’d cleared.

You place the dish in front of him on the table, setting a fork next to it and a topped off glass of water. Across from him, you sit, having already aten. This felt optimal, allowing you to rest your chin in your hands and watch him, talk to him, hear about his day.

Joel nearly groans as he takes the first bite, his exhaustion even more evident. “Tastes like heaven, baby,” he mutters between bites.

“I made extra for you to bring on patrol tomorrow. Lunch, or something.”

He hums in acknowledgement, a quiet thanks as he enjoys his meal. A drink from his glass, then he breaks the silence, a hand palming at the back of his neck. “‘M so damn sore.”

You frown. It upsets you to see how much Joel is working, and saddens you further to witness how it affects him. More often than not, his back is sore, or his legs achy. As prideful as he was, it was clear that he needed a break. And although Joel warned you against bringing it up to Tommy, the idea was getting increasingly tempting. It’s becoming a priority of yours to get him off that damn schedule.

“I’m sorry,” you soothe and stand up, topping off his glass once again, before your hands come to rest on his shoulders as you stand behind his chair. Your fingers squeeze at the muscles there, taut and stressed as he inhales deeply and takes another bite. “I can massage it if you want.” A beat, before you speak again. “Maybe you should ask Tommy if someone else can pick up your shift.”

Joel says your name in a stern, yet exasperated tone that says, ‘drop it’. You wonder what exactly it is that stops him from asking for help.

“Okay,” you agree, forcing the topic out of your mind and out of your mouth, hands still working at his tense and knotted muscle. “I just worry about you. I just don’t want to see you hurting, I want you to feel good.”

“I’m just… gettin’ old, is all. Ain’t got nothin’ to do with work, I’m… I’m okay.” Joel grunts as your hands work, and you don’t believe him one bit—not even a little. Either way, you don’t argue. Instead, you lean down and kiss the top of his head, your lips pressing against his soft, graying hair.

“Alright,” you agree. He hums as he feels your lips.

“Plus,” he adds. “I can still keep up with you, I reckon.”

“Sure can, old man,” you squeeze one of his arms, a thick bicep only barely softened by age. You very strongly appreciated his strength—muscles formed through vigorous labor; initially, fixing roofs in the sun, and eventually, fighting infected with his bare hands. Granted, he is more comfortable now. His life is stable in Jackson, allowing his tummy to soften up a bit because he has food to eat and a bed to lounge in. Even so, he could still pick you up and carry you out in the snow, and when he would grunt a little deeper now with the effort, you reveled in the sound.

He takes a bite. “So long as you don’t get sick’a me.” 

“Never.”

A deep chuckle from Joel, and his plate is clean. He looks up at you, and you take the opportunity to lean down and press a kiss to his cheek, hands finding the sides of his face as your lips move to envelop his. Your mouth moves tenderly over his as he emits a soft hum.

You pull your lips away softly, a string of saliva connecting your mouths before it breaks and your eyes rake over his face as it still rests in your hands.

“I feel better already,” he states.

“I’m sure,” you smile, gaze flicking down to the bulge in his pants, a tent beginning to form.

“Feels nice,” he says, referring to nothing in particular. It was all so pleasant—the way you made him dinner and fed him with such care, how you worked out the stiffness in his muscles and kissed away his trepidation—he never had enough of it. He was never entirely sure why you chose him—grumpy and hardened, old and weary—but you never let him spend too much time mulling it over. You loved him so entirely that it was nearly impossible to doubt, every past loss and failing managing to fade to nothing when he would meet your eyes.

Your hands drop from his face and you pick up his plate and empty glass, your feet carrying you the short distance to the kitchen sink. Over your shoulder, you see him watching you, on his eyes a look of admiration combined with a hint of lust. Joel’s absolute love for your nurturing nature was something that he would rarely voice, and that nobody else would ever guess. You wipe the plate clean and set it in the sink, rinsing your hands and wiping them dry.

By now, Joel has stood, meeting you again in the dim light of the dining room. You smile lazily at him, relieved that the day’s responsibilities were done and dealt with. To you, having Joel around in the evening after a long day is the best gift, and you find his occasional night patrols to be cruel and unusual punishments. When your arms wrap affectionately around his middle, his hand rests on the back of your head, fingers splaying over and entwining with your hair. He presses a kiss to your temple.

“You’re s’beautiful…” he murmurs into your skin, his words so honest and caring. He hums softly before tilting your head up and taking a kiss. Joel felt that it was the most reassuring thing and so wholly intimate. Your lips, he felt, belonged on his, slotting onto one another like pieces of a jigsaw. Your hand rubs up his back as one of his cups the back of your neck, guiding your head gently. He pulls your body lightly against his, the movement firm but not aggressive. He’s sleepy and sapped, but that doesn’t stop his hands from coasting greedily over your body. Your warm skin always soothes him—evidently, he is harder now, and you feel the pressure wedged against your lower stomach.

Your lips drift apart, still tangled in the other’s arms. It’s clear where Joel wants this to go, and you second the thought.

“You’re gorgeous…” he mutters another compliment, pushing aside a strand of hair from your face. “Just wanna have you forever. I could. Again and again…”

It isn’t clear if Joel entirely knows what he’s saying, but his musings sound promising either way. “You sure you have the stamina for that, old man?” You tease him into his shoulder, your close embrace both tempting and comforting.

“Yes, ma’am,” he states, paying no mind to his own lassitude and achy muscles. How could they even cross his mind? He had you in his arms, your body at his fingertips.

In a mediocre attempt at assuming Joel’s southern drawl, you ask, “Are you fixin’ to prove it to me?”

He chuckles, his voice low and thick. “If that’s what you want,” he feigns nonchalance—albeit, poorly. “I don’t sound like that.”

“Mhm…” By now, your mind is empty, save for one thing. Memories of Joel’s busy schedule have departed from your head, along with all of your external worries, and he is leading you upstairs.

When your back hits the mattress in the palely lit bedroom, you smile softly up at Joel, who is unhooking his belt, pulling it free from the loops. His gaze is roaming over you hungrily, and you can tell that his day has been particularly long by the wanting look in his eye.

You squirm out of your shorts and pull your top over your head as you lay against the cold covers. Dropping the discarded clothes on the floor by the bed, you catch Joel’s eyes as he pushes down his worn and worked jeans, faded dirt staining the heels. His boxers are dark and tented, his necessity for you abundantly clear. He’d like to crawl into your arms, but first, he has to give you what you want and assuage his own frustration. He lifts his shirt over his head, dropping it absentmindedly on the floor.

The bed dips slightly when the weight of Joel’s knees comes to rest on it. You peer up at him as he looks down at you, a dazed and loving smile on his face as his hands are set on your knees, pulling them apart and making room for his broad body between them.

Joel’s lips kiss along your jaw, nipping lightly at your neck. He props his body up with one elbow, the other hand coursing over your skin, trailing over the lace of your bra and down to the fabric of your soft panties. He mindlessly toys with the band, his mind focused on your neck, but quickly shifts his attention to the rest of your body.

Joel is particularly desperate tonight, his hands both restless and spent as they hook under and pull at your underwear. They come off fully, tossed aside on the bed. The air in the room is chilly, but Joel’s form radiates warmth, encasing you with it. You smile softly as his briefs are finally let down and a strong, veined hand wraps around his length. Joel pumps it a few times before teasing his tip along your entrance, and you inhale through your teeth.

You chuckle breathily at the focused look on his face as he nudges himself into you. You brace yourself for the stretch as your eyes watch where his cock hitches inside, before your gaze coasts up to the trail of hair that leads to his belly button, then at his strong chest, and ultimately his face. He slides in before you can look back down, and your eyes narrow as your mouth falls open slightly.

The look on your face was priceless—one Joel had seen many times—but priceless, nonetheless. His first few strokes are slow and relishing, but his impatience forces him to speed up. He has spent the day thinking about you, and will continue to do so long after he drifts to sleep; so, his energy has nowhere to go but into his movements, his hips tapping yours as the room fills with the soft click, click, click of your bodies touching, fluids exchanging.

Your husband’s mouth no longer has the power to contain his grunts of pleasure, soft noises escaping his throat with each movement. Your heavy breaths align with his like a melody, sounding synchronously into the dim bedroom, limbs tangled in blankets and damp skin.

Above you, Joel’s brow is slightly dampened with sweat, his body trying not to succumb to his enervation. Of course you couldn’t hear it, but you could only guess that his heart was beating a bit quicker than it usually did. His hands grip at your hips a little harder as his thrusts hasten, your velvety skin on his fingers consoling him.

Joel might be getting up there, but he was still big. He always would be, and a sound no short of a whine leaves your mouth as your hand rests over his on your hip—a comforting gesture to both him and yourself. The insides of your thighs are slippery, and they slicken Joel’s in turn when your bodies touch.

“Baby…” Joel grumbles, his voice low and nearly inaudible.

Your response is a feeble hum, an affectionate reassurance. “Hm…”

“I’m… shit, I…” his voice trails off. One hand of his is still tightly holding the bone of your hip, guiding and grinding it against his own as his cock disappears into you. His other wipes away the perspiration on his forehead before landing to tightly grip the wooden headboard, the structure bracing Joel’s weight as he drives into you.

“So good, Joel…” you mutter, your eyes drifting shut as he moves inside of you, tip kissing your cervix again and again. Repeatedly, your insides stretch and your pleasure mounts, your eyelids still closed in sheer bliss, stomach tingling from your approaching orgasm, along with your proximity to the man you love.

You swear you hear the wood crack with how hard he holds the head of the bed. His movements become more tense, deliberate. His breath huffs deeply, and at first you suspect that he might be getting close. He usually takes longer than this, but you cannot blame him—his day’s been hard, and he’s needed you. But soon enough, almost as abruptly as he had started, his movements cease. He doesn’t slow, or pull out to finish on your stomach—he stops. Your hips buck imperceptibly at the cessation.

“Sweetheart…” Joel mumbles defeatedly, his hips drawing out a few more slow and shallow strokes before coming to a complete halt. “I can’t. M’ too tired.”

You blink at his admission. You fish deep in your brain for something to say, a caring response, but before you do, he does all he can to hide his reddening face in the crook of your neck.

For a moment, he stays there. His head rests on your shoulder in silence before he breaks it. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry baby.” He mumbles something about a hard day and getting old. You can’t help but card your fingers through his hair, dark and streaked with silver like a tree turning red in autumn. Except, when his leaves fell, they would not be growing back. They would not rejuvenate themselves come spring, ready to dance again in the summer breeze. But you don’t think that winter needs to be hopeless or sad. There isn’t a bone of Joel’s that you don’t love, or a wrinkle you won’t worship. Every doubt—if there ever were any, at all—is waved away, lost to what you love the most about him; and so you giggle into his hair.

“Don’t laugh at me…” he murmurs, embarrassment still permeating his voice.

“I’m not laughing at you, baby. It’s okay,” your head pats lightly on the back of his head. “It’s okay. You’re working like hell.”

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes again. He’s a proud man, and letting you down feels like a firm blow to the chest.

“Don’t say sorry,” you smile sweetly as you tilt his head up towards yours. After laying a gentle kiss to his forehead, you add, “It’s alright, Handsome.”

He scoffs under his breath, but can’t stop a sheepish smile from spreading across his lips. He buries his head back into the crook of your neck. As soon as he does, you tilt his face back up again and speak.

“What, you don’t agree?”

He avoids your eyes, looking up off to the side. “I just… y’sure? You think I’m handsome? Y’don’t think… I ain’t enough for you?”

The question catches you off guard and you continue to gaze down at him, your thumb gliding over the side of his face. “Are you being serious?”

No answer on his end, just the same apprehensive look on his face as he refuses to meet your eye.

“Of course I do, Joel. You’re so handsome. Don’t be ridiculous.” You say before adding, “And I think you’re the best guy I could ever ask for, and it doesn’t matter if you’re a little tired sometimes.” You smile.

Joel only grunts when you shift your body until his back is on the pillows. You’re now sitting on his hips, his cock still buried in you—throbbing but forgotten. His hair is disheveled and he looks rather dazed, gazing up at you with a look of admiration and necessity.

Your hand finds its way to cup the side of his face, a position it often assumes; the spot feels like its home. You feel the prickle of his beard on your skin, and you lean down to press a kiss to his lips, wet and a bit chapped from the cold outside. Slowly, you begin to rock your hips, a gentle and slow movement that Joel reacts to, one of his hands coming to grip onto your hip and the other draping over his eyes out of both insecurity and overwhelment.

A heavy breath leaves his mouth as you pull his hand away from his face. He still isn’t quite able to look you in the eye, so you tilt his face toward you once again, your hips rolling in treacherous circles.

A hum leaves your mouth, the look on Joel’s face fueling the fire between your legs. As you move, you let your mouth drop open slightly, wanting to make your pleasure clear to him.

“Feels so good, Joel…” you murmur. “Keep looking at me,” you instruct. You weren’t sure exactly how to get his confidence back up or make him feel better. His head seemed to be in another place, one of penitence and embarrassment. “Y’never told me how nice it is to be on top. Might have to try it more often.” You feel him twitch inside of you. Your fingers continue to trace along his jaw.

Joel groans as your hips grind into his a bit faster, the view of you peering down at him heating up his stomach. “It’s… okay? You’re not disappointed?” He asks, more so to reassure himself.

You chuckle lightly under your breath, his still moving as you choke out, “Of course not…” You hear something close to a whimper leave Joel’s mouth, and you take one of his hands and hold it to your center, between your legs as his thumb begins rubbing your clit. “There you go…”

He is happy to help. Any way you can make him feel appreciated will make him groan under you.

“Oh, wow, Joel…” you continue, your noises growing more prolonged. By now, you could almost cum from his sounds alone, desperate and almost pitiful. His fuck-up hit him hard, and has left him yearning to either make it up to you or push it from his head. His thumb circles you in just the way you like, sending jolts through your body that further energize you, hips still rocking with care and want. A hand laced up into his hair, you murmur, “I’m gonna cum… you’re making me cum, Joel… shit.”

“I’m… me too,” you hear him choke out. He looks entirely out of it, his gaze shifting from your face down to where your flesh surrounds him. You smile, taking a few more rolls of your hips before slowing, pulling out of you his thick length, tip angry, red, and swollen from being still without release. You let your hand run up and down his cock, further smearing the liquids that coat it as you rub him, his mouth falling open slightly.

“Yeah… you’re so pretty, Joel. You’ll always be pretty. Handsome… sweet…” you list, mumbling off whatever kind words you could think off as you stroke his cock, rubbing it occasionally against your clit.

He hisses, pleasure mounting at your tenderness of your touch and the sweetness of your words. Each time your hand travels up his length, he gets closer, and he’s unable to stop himself from spilling over your hand. His thick ropes of cum leak from his weeping slit, a low grunt sounding from somewhere deep in his throat.

A smile spreads across your face, the dribble of white down your hand doing something to you—it always does. “There you go, baby,” you coddle, a kiss to his cheek. “As simple as that.”

Thanks for reading!! feel free to send me an ask

[drippingyellow]

Normal people

Pairing: Joel Miller x female reader (no outbreak/au)

Summary: Your car won't start after a long workday, and Joel comes to the rescue. At home, you shower him with love and appreciation for everything he does, easing the weight he quietly carries. The night ends in warmth, love, and the comfort of your little family.

Word Count: 3.1 K

Warnings: no outbreak, no y/n used, no reader description, no real warnings, just domestic fluff, established relationship, happy Joel, soft Joel, Joel getting the love and care he deserves, Sarah is thriving, Ellie is briefly mentioned, slight age gap, I imagined game Joel and Sarah, but you can imagine whatever you want since I kept physical descriptions to a minimum, love all around

A/N: Hello, kind people! :) This is the first fic I ever wrote, so treat her gently, for she is my baby. I played the games and watched the series, and I am the biggest Joel Miller apologist. I love that man with all my heart. I just want him to be happy and at peace, so I wrote this piece with that in mind. In my universe, nothing bad happened to him and Sarah. Joel is getting back the same love, attention, and care he gives to the people he loves dearly. Also, I had to squeeze Ellie in even for just a second. There is a slight age gap. I personally imagined reader having 28, Jole 35, and Sarah 6, but you can imagine whatever you want. :) That being said, I do hope you will enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Dividers credit: @/saradika-graphics

Of course it has to happen today and of course it has to happen to you. Today has been the longest day of your life and all you want is to get home. 

You are currently sitting in your car in a parking lot in front of a grocery store where you just finished your shift. It’s only a part-time job since you are in your third year of college and you simply don’t have time to work full time. It bothers you that you are not contributing more financially to the household and most of it falls on Joel. Sometimes you get mad at yourself because – what were you thinking starting college at twenty-five?

Today is no different and you curse yourself while putting the key in the ignition and turning it to start the car. Instead of the loud sound of your engine roaring to life you are met with the scraping and coughing sound it makes while it struggles to turn on. 

“No, no, no, no please don’t do that to me, not now please,” you plead on the verge of tears.

You try to turn it on a few more times before giving up and slapping the steering wheel with all your frustrations. Exhaling deeply to calm yourself down you lean your head onto the steering wheel. 

God, you just want to get home to Joel and Sarah. You haven’t seen her properly in the past four days – you leave the house before she even wakes up and come back well past her bedtime. You miss your baby. Joel and you met and started dating when she was only two years old and you bonded instantly. She looked like a mini version of him, only blonde and blue-eyed. 

Your parents were so mad at you. They called you insane for dating a man with a child, saying that he was only looking for a babysitter and that you are too young to ruin your life like that. Their reaction didn’t surprise you, seeing that they always judged your every decision that didn’t fit their perfect little vision of what your life should look like. That was four years ago. Since then you have been nothing but happy. Joel made you happy, your little family made you happy. Your parents still haven't fully come around but you stopped caring a long time ago. 

After calming down, you fish out your phone from your favourite tote bag – the one with big messy flowers that Sarah painted for you in kindergarten last year. Scrolling through your contacts you land on Joel's number. Your thumb hovers for just a second before you press call and raise the phone to your ear to hear it ring.

You hate that you have to bother him because he too had a long damn day. You only briefly texted each other on his lunch break and he said he was “beat like a rug on wash day”. You know that he is tired from always pulling overtime and he is trying not to show it, but you see it in the way he grunts when he sits down or the way he holds his lower back when he is standing up. You blame yourself for it because if you hadn’t started college he wouldn’t need to stress himself that much over work and bills, but he always tells you that education is important and doing what makes you happy is important. You hope you can repay him someday when you finish nursing school and start working full time again. 

The phone only rings three times before he picks up.

“Darlin’? Are you okay? Where are you? What happened?” he says, panicky with the sleep still clinging to his voice.

God you woke him up, great, you think. 

“I’m sorry that I woke you up Joel. I’m okay, my shift just finished and I was about to leave but the stupid car won’t start and I tried to turn it on a couple of times and it just sounds worse and worse and I-”

“Honey calm down, it’s okay, it’s going to be okay. I’ll come and getcha,” he cuts off your anxious rambling. 

You take another deep breath, “Okay.”

“Alright. I’ll be over there in 10. Lock yo’self in your car and wait for me, it’s late,” he says to you while grabbing the keys of his truck and heading towards the door. 

“What about Sarah? Ellie already left,” you suddenly remember that the next door teen who likes to babysit Sarah for some extra allowance left home hours ago. 

You hear Joel's steps slow down but then he answers after a short pause, “Don’t worry about it. She is sleeping and we’ll be back in no time. I locked the door.”

You feel even more guilty now but nod anyway and say your goodbyes.

You slump back in your seat and wait. True to his word, 10 minutes later you hear Joel's truck before you see it. He parks next to you, exits the truck and comes to your side just as you unlock the doors for him to open them.

“Hi,” you breathe out as he leans down to kiss your forehead.

“Hello darlin’,” Joel says as he stretches out his hand to help you out of the car, “let’s get us home.”

“Yes please,” you smile tiredly as you get out and drape your arms around him. 

“Tommy and I will take care of the car tomorrow morning. Grab all your stuff and put it in the backseat of the truck while I take just a quick look under the hood,” he says, hugging you back and running his hand affectionately up and down your back.

You move away from him and work quickly to transfer everything you had in your car over to his truck while he grumbles looking over the engine. 

Just as you put your last bag in the back and closed the door he slams the hood of your car down and shakes his head.

“That bad, huh?” you question while giving a dry chuckle.

“It ain’t all bad but it ain't good either,” he walks towards you, “You are free tomorrow, right? No classes and work?” 

You both get inside the truck when you answer, “No, thank god.”

Jole nods and looks at you giving you a small smile when you yawn. Your yawn triggers his own and then you both laugh. Joel starts his truck and pulls out of the parking lot onto a nearly empty street. You turn on the radio and some soft country song starts playing and Joel instantly hums along with it. 

You smile and turn your head towards the window looking out and drinking in the beautiful colours of the street lamps against the dark. You feel your body relax and your eyelids begin to feel so heavy, you try to fight it because Joel asks you something but the warmth of the truck takes you under. 

Next time when you open your eyes you are in your driveway, your car door is opened and Joel is pressing soft kisses all over your head and face while murmuring sweet nothings to wake you up. 

“Honey I’m so sorry to wake you up but I can’t carry you inside today. I pulled my back pretty bad on the job and I can barely carry myself,” his brown eyes filled with regret bore into yours. 

“No, it’s alright baby, you know I hate when you exert yourself. Besides I am a big girl and I can do it myself,” you said mimicking Sarah's voice and stance.

“Oh so that's where she's getting it from,” he laughs, closing the door after you get out and walks behind you as you unlock the front door.

You grin at him once you get inside and lock behind yourselves, “No idea what you are getting at.”

Joel chuckles and shakes his head, “You shower and I will make my famous microwave lasagna.”

“Mmmm my favourite,” you laugh, “and after dinner I’m giving you my famous back massage.” You hear him hum back in response while you climb upstairs to your bedroom to get some clean clothes. After grabbing some clean underwear and Joel's shirt you claimed as your sleep shirt you stop at Sarah’s bedroom. Quietly you step inside and sit on her bed. 

You softly speak to her while bruising stray strands of hair from her face, “I hope you had a good day at school today. Daddy and I are so proud of you. You are our big and brave girl. I love you so much.”

Kissing her forehead you softly stand up from bed and tiptoe out of her room closing her bedroom doors behind you. Slowly you make it to the bathroom and quickly take off your clothes and get into the shower. A relieved sigh leaves your lips as the warm water cascaded down your body. You quickly wash and dry yourself and head downstairs to see Joel already sitting at the table waiting for you.

God I love this man, you think to yourself.

As you get closer to the table he looks up and motions for you to sit. You don’t need to be told twice because you are starving. You sit opposite of him at the table and you both dive straight into lukewarm lasagna. You don’t speak but you occasionally look at each other over your forks.

Once you finish eating Joel moves to stand up and take the plates to the dishwasher but you get up first and gently push his hands away, “Now you go shower and I will do the closing shift in the kitchen.” 

Joel's eyes soften when he looks up at you and he just silently nods. That’s when you know that his back was really killing him because on any other day he would fight you on that and say that you need to rest and study or not to worry because he's got it covered.

That's what he always does, he always puts the needs of others before his own. You love that he is caring, you just wish that he would redirect some of that care to himself. You know that will never happen and that's exactly why you always want to do everything in your power to make his life a little easier. You hear the shower go off and that snaps you out of your thoughts. With newfound lasagna-powered energy you make quick work of cleaning the kitchen and loading the dishwasher before turning it on.

Turning off all the lights downstairs and checking the door once more you climb up the stairs to your bedroom. Just as you sit on the bed Joel comes into the room still slightly wet, hair slicked back and with a towel hanging around his waist. 

“You look so delicious like that,” you smirk while tapping his side of the bed, motioning for him to sit down.

Joel laughs and sits on the bed reaching for your face to pull you into the kiss, “Now darlin’, don’t start something you can’t finish.”

“Right back at you, mister Miller,” you say before closing the distance and kissing him.

You both sigh into the kiss – your first one of the day – and the clock reads 11:40 pm. Days like this are the worst but thankfully tomorrow is Saturday so you both can recharge and relax. 

You pull away first and softly guide him to lay down on the bed. Joel cocks his eyebrows at you and you playfully roll your eyes, “Don’t get it twisted, didn’t you say your back was killing you?”

“I never said it’s that ba-” he cuts himself off with a groan as he fully lies down. 

“Mhm, right. Turn on your front while I get massage oil. Do you want lavender or eucalyptus?” you ask, standing up and rummaging through your drawer.

“Whatever you want,” he mumbles while turning himself to lay on his stomach.

“Lavander it is then,” you say as you settle back on the bed. 

“Honey you don’t have to do this, I know you are tired as well and-“ you kiss his shoulder and say, “I know I don't have to but I want to. I love you and I want to ease your pain just as much as you want to do the same for me.”

He looks at you and relaxes under your gaze, “I love you too”.

You kiss his shoulder once again and move to straddle his thighs. Having settled over his towel-covered thighs you open the oil bottle and pour some in your hand to warm it up. 

At the first contact of your hand and his lower back Joel hisses like you just burned him. “If it is too painful I will stop,” you still your movements. 

“No, it's alright, I can take it. I think it just needs to be worked out,” his voice was half-muffled by the pillow beneath him. 

“Yes it does, but tell me if it becomes too much,” you reply as you start moving your hand in firm circular motions on his lower back.

He hisses and grumbles some curses you can’t make out but eventually as you move up his back the sighs and moans of pleasure slip past his lips. 

You are tired but you love this. You love him, love touching him, making his life a little easier. 

As you massage his shoulder blades, you lean down and kiss right between them. You pepper his spine with small kisses and then you move up to his neck and head. Laying kisses everywhere you can reach and you feel him melt underneath you.

Joel is never the kind of guy to ask for anything but you know what he craves - attention and care, your attention and care.  

“You are the best man I ever met Joel,” you say between the kisses.

“You are so selfless, so caring, such a good dad and a great partner,” your hands, now mostly dry, move to massage his head and lightly scratch his scalp.

“You take such great care of us. I appreciate everything you do. I appreciate you showing up and being present, you being our protector and provider. I appreciate you being you and I don't say that enough.“

“I love you with all my heart and I can’t imagine my life without you and our little girl. I hope one day we will have a chance to make our family even bigger because the world needs more of you Joel,” you stop massaging him and move to get off of him but he turns on his back, catches your wrist and pulls you down to sit on his lap. 

Joel sits up and puts his hardworking muscly arms around you and crushes his lips so hard against yours that all the air escapes your lungs. You quickly regain your senses and pull your body flush against his as your hands find their way back to his head. 

You both pull away gasping for air and when you look at him his eyes are a little glossy. “Thank you,” he says and you nod because you know what he means.

You go in to kiss him again but he speaks before you can get to his plush lips, “I don’t want you to work anymore,” he says while looking over your face. 

You sigh and drop your head because this isn't the first time he has suggested that. It's not that you don't want to quit, god knows you do, but you just don't want to be a burden. 

“It would be good for you and you could spend more time with Sarah and all you would need to do is study,” he says after you were quiet for a moment too long.

“How about we talk about that in the morning?” you say, before giving his lips a soft kiss. 

“Yeah we can do that baby,” he replies, returning your kiss.

“Do you feel better now?” you ask as you get off of him so he can dress himself in his sleep shirt and boxers. 

“I really do, you have magic hands,” he says, winking at you while he gets under the cover.

You giggle as you stand up and go to the bathroom to brush your teeth. Soon after you join him under your blanket. You both lie on your sides staring quietly at each other. He reaches for your face again and kisses you once more. Returning the kiss happily you drape your leg over his hips and begin pulling yourself closer to him but just at that moment you hear the door to Sarah's room open and soft footsteps come your way. 

Pulling away from each other you both look at the doorway where Sarah stands, all sleepy clutching her giraffe plushie. 

She squints at the only light in the room, a lamp on Joel's bedside table, and steps further into the room until the light no longer bothers her.  

“What’s wrong honey?” Joel asks.

“I had a bad and ugly dream. The monsters were chasing me and I was too slow and- Can I sleep with you and mom?”

“Of course you can baby, hop in,” you say, pulling the covers back. 

She climbs over you and settles in between the two of you. You both cuddle her until she calms down and begins to feel sleepy again. 

“Tomorrow I’ll guard the room so you can sleep in your big girl bed once again, okay babygirl? You know what we talked about, you need your sleep and mommy and I need ours.” Joel gently explains to her.

Sarah agrees sleepily. She turns and curls up into your side and you half-whisper to her, “Can I join you in your big girl bed if daddy starts snoring like a tractor again?” 

She giggles and nods her head while Joel dramatically puts a hand over his chest, “I do not snore that loud.”

“You do,” both Sarah and you reply at the same time which results in more giggles while Joel still pretends to be hurt by this whole exchange.

“You girls are always teaming up and bullying me,” he says, turning to switch off the lamp next to him. 

”No, we love you daddy,” Sarah says before falling asleep like a light. 

You and Joel just look at each other and smile softly before looking down at the small girl between you.

You both kiss her head and then each other. You put your foot between his legs and hug the small girl closer to your chest, wishing Joel a goodnight. 

“Goodnight honey,” Joel says with a small smile on his lips. He closes his eyes and thinks to himself, Yeah, I’m the luckiest man in the world.

[taeslarityy]

outage ༄ joel miller one shot (18+)

-> pairing: no-outbreak joel miller au x female curvy reader

-> word count: 4.3k

-> summary: after a citywide power outage, you're left to deal with the scorching texas heat. until, the well-respected neighborhood dilf — joel miller — lends you a more than generous hand.

-> warnings/tags: sarah is 10/11 so joel had her a bit older, power outage, texas heat, yes this is a warning because its not a joke, reader has a cat!!!, age gap (reader is 24, joel is late 40s), curvy/mid/plus size reader, brief fatphobia, reader has self-image/parent issues + is a lonely gal, fluff, SMUT (18+), unprotected piv, creampie, oral + fingering (f!recieving), squirting, body worship, brief ass play, daddy kink, big ole tits, spanking, spit kink, praise kink, a bit of belly bulge, cockwarming, pet names galore (darlin, sweetheart, baby, _ girl), joel has a huge dick (not canon!)

-> a/n: hi hi! i have been so anxious to begin writing again and currently have some wips that i am just not confident with. so when i saw the lovely @hellishjoel post her #hotdilfsummerchallenge, i was positive i wanted to join in! such a pleasure to be involved in this — thank you kylee for creating such a fun way for this community to get involved! as a curvier woman, i wanted reader to reflect that. because... joel miller is a handsy mf and loves to just grab himself some wide hips, thick thighs and phat tits <3 but ofc, this is can be for various body types. please please please, leave your thoughts and even constructive criticism! <3 DILF NEIGHBOR JOEL, YOU WILL ALWAYS BE FAMOUS!!!!

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. 

You release a groan of annoyance as the visual of your TV, coffee table lamp and humming of the refrigerator all flicker off into silence. The frills on your throw-blanket settle, as the ceiling fan no longer produces the small gusts of wind that have caused you to be rather chilly on this hot, humid and rainy summer night. 

When you made the courageous decision of moving across the country for a new teaching opportunity in Austin — you were never informed on the true brutality summertime unleashed onto Texas residents. More-so, you really had nothing to do but be caged up in the comfortable AC of your home. You’ve been here for roughly 14 months and the only "friends" you’ve made have been the 28 fourth graders you had the pleasure of teaching last school year. Tragic. 

Your coworkers, did not handle your arrival pleasantly. Young, beautiful, freshly-educated and determined. That’s what your grandmother referred to you as when you called her sobbing after your first week. Informing her that the seasoned teachers won’t even bat an eye at you, and when they do it’s a look of disgust. Whispering amongst one another. Like you were in middle school again, trying to befriend the popular girls. 

“I was foolish to think things could be different for me down here, so stupid of me.”

“Now listen to me, you are the most intelligent woman I know. More than anyone in this family. Bullies like that, it stems from an unknown jealousy and overbearing insecurity. Don’t let a few sour grapes ruin this outstanding career for you. Your students adore you already, and so do I. Just continue to be yourself and if that isn’t enough for them, so be it.”

Your grandmother always knew how to make you feel better. She had been instilling your own sense of confidence since you were a little girl. The only adult in your life to do so. If only her words were enough. Your coworkers just never let up. After overhearing them gossip about you during lunch break, you gave up your attempts indefinitely. 

“She really thinks she deserves a place here?”

“Look at her back rolls in that shirt…”

“She really needs to put that sandwich down.”

“Why is she so quiet? It’s freaky, honestly. No wonder she’s always alone.”

You’re not a stranger to being alone. You practically have been your entire life. Your parents never really bothered to form a genuine relationship with you, always so focused on your younger sister. She was the prettier, thinner, more impressive version of you. You have only had one best friend throughout your long 24 years on this earth. She was smarter than you and moved away from the timid small town you shared in Northern Maine, choosing an out-of-state university. So, being alone was a familiarity. You have made peace with it. But being lonely — that’s a whole other ball-park. 

The booming thwack of thunder startles you from your thoughts. Your sweet calico boy leaps from your warm lap and scurries under the dining table — tail puffed in fear. “Milo... it’s okay,” you whisper. He just gleams at you with his jet-black saucer eyes. Even you don’t believe your own words. You are not used to storms like this, and you didn’t really prepare. You read some articles online about stocking up: having plently of batteries, candles, non-perishable foods. Yet, you didn’t do any of that. 

Rubbing away the moisture from your damp upper lip — the heat inside your home already becoming unbearable. Deciding on a whim, you can head to a nearby hotel for the night. Unsure how long you will be without power and don’t wish to succumb yourself or your cat to the searing temperatures of the night. 

The rain has slowed down, as you feel the soft patter on your umbrella. Throwing your purse and water bottle in the front seat, you begin to dread unpacking all this stuff when you get to the hotel. Bags, cat litter, cage — scrutinizing yourself mentally and deciding you better fucking prepare for the next storm. 

“Where ya headin’ sweetheart?”

Your heart jumps at the deep smooth Southern voice that fills your thoughts at night. When your hands would find their way in between your quivering legs. Throughout the day. Pretty much all the time.

Joel Miller is the only person in this town that has ever filled the lonely void you can never seem to fill. When you moved to the quiet suburban street, he was the first to come greet you as you struggled to pull your mattress out of the U-Haul. Immediately lending a hand, and proceeding to lug all of your remaining boxes, furniture, miscellaneous items into your new home. 

“Pretty lady like you, shouldn’t have to lift a single finger.” He remarked when you blushed and assured him you could handle the rest, not wanting to be a burden. Even though the sweat dripping down your back was apparent and 5 minutes prior you had no idea how you’d be able to unpack the remainder of the truck. He then assured you — there was no way in hell you were being a burden. Words that were a rarity. 

Later that afternoon, he invited you for dinner at his home. You met his lovely daughter, Sarah. Where everyone learned that you were her new school teacher. What were the odds? 

Following that, seeing Joel was frequent. From parent-teacher conferences, backyard barbecues for the neighborhood, or even small intimate dinners with Sarah at each others homes. Sarah would even spend the night at yours on occasion. When Joel had a late night at the construction site, or when she just needed some girl time. You adored that little girl, and vice versa. 

You also adored the fuck out of Joel. 

So when you looked up at his porch, finding him in nothing but a pair of plaid pajama pants.. your throat went dry. His tanned skin gleamed softly from the street light — little speckled freckles adorned his waist in various spots. And that darkish grey hair on his chest and fat of his lower tummy that flowed underneath his pants. Your brain fuzzy at the thought of your face pressed against it as you swallow his cock. 

But you were not a fool. Joel would never express an attraction towards you. A man like that? He deserved the perfect woman. 

“Darlin’?” He speaks again, a bit louder. Disturbing your wandering thoughts. 

“I- I was gonna head to a hotel for the night, my house is too hot already. And I don’t want Milo to be uncomfortable.” 

Joel’s eyes wander down your body as you explain — the plush jiggle of your tits in that small tank. Nearly spilling out. Slightly damp from the rain or humidity. The chub of your tummy spills slightly from your leggings. A sight that makes his cock swell unbearingly. An act that occurs more often than not when he sees you or even thinks of you for the countless minutes of his day. 

“No way. Not gonna let ya drive in this weather. Plus, most hotels nearby are gonna be overbooked. I got the generator up n’ working, got the spare room too. You’re stayin’ over.” 

“No! No, Joel. I can’t.”

“N’ why not?” His hands have found his way to his hips, popping a knee out and giving you that classic dad glare. Not angry, but confused as to why you’re even protesting when he’s already decided. 

“I don’t want to intrude and I have Milo. You and Sarah are allergic.”

“Sarah left yesterday to stay with her mom in California for the rest of the summer. Besides, Milo loves me. I can handle a runny nose as long as I know the two of ya are safe.” 

To this, your stomach nearly flips inward on itself. You’ve never been alone with Joel in his home. Not for this long. The few times you’ve come over to help him with dinner before Sarah got home from soccer practice, have always been excruciating. Staring at him without worry. Watching his muscles flex through his t-shirts. Big hands chopping vegetables and plating food. His hand lightly touching your waist when scooting by. 

There’s no possible way you can survive a night in Joel’s home. 

But, he’s already grabbing his umbrella and walking over to you. He grabs your stuff from the car and tells you to go grab Milo. So, you do.

Joel slips on a t-shirt after he put your stuff in the spare room, disappointedly enough. You nearly told him to keep it off, but held your tongue. You made yourself comfortable at the island barstool as you typed up some early lesson plans, Milo at your feet. 

He patters over to Joel who is now leaning against the counter, brushing against his leg. He then leaps onto the granite and purrs against Joel’s arm. 

“Psst! Milo get do-“ you beg, embarrassment coloring your cheeks. 

“S’ okay, sweetheart. He’s not botherin’ me,” Joel attempts to settle your nerves. Petting Milo’s soft fur and scratching under his chin, that special spot all cats love. “Can I get you anythin’ to drink?” He nods towards the coffee he’s brewing. 

“Coffee would be nice, thank you.” You beam at him. Joel’s heart skips a beat every time your cheeks puff up ever so slightly when you smile at him. It’s something he swears is the most endearing thing about you. Of course, he’s only ever shared that with his daughter. Who begs her father to just take her favorite teacher on a date already. 

Joel grabs some sugar and oat milk from the fridge, your favorite. He learned from the few breakfasts you guys had shared. A bit of sugar and a nice gulp of milk softens the dark roast color in the mug, he slides it over to you as he grabs his plain black coffee. 

“You remembered!” You giggle slightly at the Number 1 Dad title that adorns the mug, taking a sip. You moan at the taste, exactly how you like it. 

“Of course I did, darlin’.” You almost hate how easily those pet names roll of his tongue. You summed it up as his southern hospitality, figured he calls any woman those special names. “So, you ready for this new school year?”

An icky feeling settles in your stomach. The thought of returning to the painful and toxic work environment you can only escape when you’re with your students.

“Not without my Sarah girl,” you swiftly change the subject towards the one person he can talk hours about.

He smiles proudly at her name. 

“Ya know, she still all mad that you wouldn’t flunk her so she could have another year with ya.” Both your laughs quickly fill the empty house. 

“Well, even if I tried to, that girl is too smart for her own good. She should skip a grade in my opinion.” You state, and you’re truthful at that. Sarah Miller is as intelligent as she is quick-witted. 

“Yeah, she gets it from me.” At that you roll your eyes playfully. Typing something up before closing your computer and taking another sip of coffee. “Although I love boastin’ over her, I guess I meant are you excited to go back? They treat ya good there?” 

Joel watches the color drain from your soft skin. Realizing he touched somewhere that might be too personal. Too raw. “M’ sorry sweetheart, shouldn’t have asked.”

“No- no uh, you’re fine. Um, honestly? No. I’m not excited. The staff there aren’t exactly the kindest bunch.” You confess, slight unease crawling over you. 

Joel’s eyes scrunch in confusion. Mind blank on how the kindest soul he knows, could be surrounded by complete opposite. “Whatcha mean?”

You sigh letting the anxiousness settle a bit before speaking again, “they hate me. I don’t even know why, really? I have tried my hardest to get them to accept me but nothing seems to work. Whether it’s jabs at my appearance, teaching style, they’re never satisfied.” Your eyes are burning slightly, haven’t confessed this burden you constantly carry to anyone. “If it wasn’t for your daughter and my class, and… you.. well, I think I wouldn’t have made it through. I try to be strong, I try to be everything that people expect from me but it’s just so hard, Joel.” At that, the fat tears begin to stream down your face.

Joel was frozen in shock. Or maybe anger. Protectiveness. He wanted to hurt the people who made you feel like this. The least deserving of any pain. He sets his mug down and snatches you in his embrace. Holding your head with his hand, stroking your back with the other. He lets you sob almost uncontrollably into his firm chest. 

“I just hate being so alone.” You whisper, clutching onto him. You can’t even be embarrassed anymore, you’re so overthrown by his scent, his comfort. Comfort you’ve not felt in so so long. 

Joel kisses your temple softly, "promise you're not alone, sweet girl." He nudges your head to look up at his own sorrowful expression. His thumb running over your full lips, a bit swollen from your teeth biting down on them in an attempt to muffle your sobs. "So beautiful." He murmurs as he leans down to place a kiss on your left cheek, his lips skim over yours before he places another on your right.

Joel just barely hears the whimper from the back of your throat when that feather light skim happened. He leans back half an inch, staring into your glossy eyes. "Tell me not to, and I'll let you go upstairs and get some rest. Tell me, sweetheart."

It feels like a whole minute passes by. The soft patter of the rain, the smell of coffee beans from each others breath, the same slow breathing that overwhelms the little space between you both.

Desperation.

Your fingers tighten on his shirt, "don't let me go upstairs, Joel."

Joel smashes his mouth into yours, his guttural groan flying into your soft whimpers. The softness Joel expressed a moment ago is long gone. This kiss is messy, teeth-clanking, tongue inside your mouth. Like he wants to devour you from the outside in. He releases your lip with a pop.

He threads his thick fingers through the base of your hair and yanks it back gently, tongue on your neck. Biting the skin there. "You're so soft, baby. Just need me to mark ya up, is that right?"

You nod as hard as you can despite his harsh grip on your locks.

"I need you to use your words, sweet girl. Let me know what you're thinkin'."

"Everything you do is okay. I want more. I need it all. Please."

"Oh baby, cm'ere," he wraps your lavish thighs around his waist and hoists you into his arms. Easily. Like you're just the most delicate thing he's ever held.

As he walks to his bedroom, you smile into his neck. Arms wrapped over his shoulders, hand rubbing ever so softly at his greying curls. You bite at the skin under his ear and he gives your ass a huge squeeze. Groaning at how his big hands barely hold all the meat there. He couldn't wait to touch and gnaw at this body he loved.

At the foot of his bed, he taps your leg as if telling you to get down. You stand in front of his massive overbearing figure, staring up at him lustfully. You grab the bottom of your compression tank top and pull it over your head, revealing your unsupported chest. Your heavy tits fall a bit.

"My god," Joel falls to his knees in front of you, face nearly level with your pebbled nipples. Both his hands grab a fistful of each, rolling them in his palm. Your sweet noises fill the room and he swears he might've just came in his pajama pants right there. He takes his teeth and bite at the fat above your leggings, licking and sucking at a sensitive part of you. Literally and figuratively.

Joel abandons your chest to yank your leggings and panties down in one move, coming face-to-face with your prickly oozing pussy. He can't restrain himself much longer, spinning you around he pushes you down into his mattress.

He spreads your ass open with both hands, the chub of your lips open ever so slightly as the slick between them strings together.

"Perfect cunt." That's when you feel the chill of liquid spat right onto your puckered hole, dripping down to your clit. He leans in, tongue catching the tangy mixture of your slick and his saliva, right on your throbbing clit.

You screech into the sheets, so turned on from his actions. As he licks up to dip his tongue into your hole, one hand that's holding you open sneaks up your back, to your neck and yanks your head up.

"Nu-uh, let me hear you, baby girl." He demands as he pauses to throw his shirt off as fast as possible — not wanting to leave your cunt for too long without the warmth of his mouth.

He sloppily makes out with your cunt as it clenches and unclenches under his tongue, his beard prickling at your skin. Like he wants your scent all over him for as long as possible.

"Ohh daddy, more more," you whisper hazily, hand reaching back to grab his head desperate to have him as deep as possible.

Joel stops as he processes your choice of title. "What was that, darlin'?"

You freeze at his serious tone. Just now realizing what you've called the man. "Oh my god, I'm s-" Joel grabs your wrist and pins it against your lower back — thick middle and ring finger hooking into you with no warning. Your wetness aiding in the rapid slide of them.

He spits on your puckered hole again and abandons your wrist to land a harsh smack against your ass.

"Only dirty girls say that word, baby. Are you daddy's dirty girl?" He edges you on as he spanks you again on the opposite side. Hard. Unsparing. A side of Joel you've never seen. And oh, does it make you feel that coil tightening within you.

"Mmmm yes yes 'm your dirty girl, daddy!" You groan loudly, eyes swelling with fresh tears. But not tears of pain from earlier, pleasure.

Joel's fingers fuck into you harder, thumb now rubbing at your clit as he leans forward to prod his tongue at your asshole. "Cum for me, my nasty sweet girl. Drench my face. Let me taste you even more." He halts his fingers knuckle deep, hooked inside your cunt as he presses into that spot on repeat. Like he's stroking it out of you.

That's all it takes for you to silently scream as you squirt all over his lower beard covered face and your thick inner thighs, that nearly squish his head from how hard you're coming. Joel just keeps himself situated, never letting up. Allowing you to completely let go and rut back into him, telling him you need more.

"Thaaat's it, my good fuckin' girl.” He praises as he kisses your cunt and ass, he leans over your face capturing your lips in a kiss so messy and depraved. “Open that mouth.” Spitting roughly onto your tongue with a groan as you taste your sweetness that he knows he will forever be addicted to. No chance of recovery.

He ruts his thick bulge into your ass as you whine needly.

"Really want you to fuck my face, now." You beg, hand reaching down to grope him through his loose pjs.

"Mmmmm," he murmurs as his hips keep rutting into you. "Tonight is about you, baby. M' gonna stuff your tight cunt so fuckin' deep you'll feel it in your throat, don't worry." And with that promise, he releases himself, throbbing cock slapping against his lower tummy. You flip onto your back just to see it and your eyes widen at the sight before you.

You always knew it was huge just from perception, but god. It's thicker than your wrist, and looks like it would prod into your cervix. Painful even. Joel senses the worry on your face as he pushes your legs back against your chest. Admiring the way your stomach folds into itself, soft roll after roll. And the thickness of your inner thighs lays heavy. He just wants to get down and feast on you again but he might die if he doesn't feel you wrapped around him.

"You're in charge here, sweetheart. Understood?" He explains as he rubs his fat cock head up and down your swollen slit — notching on your opening with every downward stroke.

You nod slowly, peeking down at the monster between your legs once more. He squeezes your ankle, subtly reminding you to vocalize.

"Yes daddy, I understand."

"Good." And with that, he pushes into your fluttering hole. Your eyes roll back immediately, head thumping onto the soft duvet. He pushes in deeper, barely halfway in and he sees your feet and eyes scrunch a bit. It almost feels like he could rip you apart. Maybe it's because you haven't been fucked in a hot minute ��� or maybe it's just that Joel is so fucking hung. More than any guy you've slept with.

“Deep breath for me, sweetheart.” He soothes you, as soon as he sees your chest fall — he slams the rest of the way in. Hips flush with the back of your thighs. Cock fully sheathed in your warm soaked cunt. Heavy brimming balls pressed against your little puckered hole. “You feel so damn good. Dripping for me.” Joel’s eyes close at the feeling of you hugging him so tight. He suddenly forgets the feeling of any other woman he’s pleased. Utterly devoted to you from here on out.

When he pulls out all the way to his fat tip — it notches on your opening. Like he has to put in that extra effort to fully remove himself from you. But he doesn’t, and starts fucking into you fully. Never half way, never pulling completely out.. but always making sure he reaches the end of you.

“Da- daddy oh, harder please.” You plead, squeezing his forearm at the overwhelming feel of him nudging your cervix with every thrust.

That confirmation of pleasure is all Joel needs to push your legs back even more — ankles by your head — and began a brutal relentless pace. Grabbing a fistful of your jiggling tit and messy hair, he pulls your head up so you can watch how he ruins you for anyone else.

“Ya see that, see how swollen your gettin’ already?” Joel questions as he holds your head perfectly to observe the slight lifted pudge on your tummy. Paired with the way his coarse hair rubs against your swelled clit — it’s a drool worthy sight.

“Cus’ your so big, Joel.” You sigh, eyes fluttering from the primal force he’s using on your body.

A smug grin flicks across his face at the view. Mind consumed by the most perfect woman. Eyebrows turning inward, the little lines between them deepening as you try to comprehend all the emotions in this moment. Removing his hand from your head, he finds your clit and swipes it upward. Over and over. Leaning down, he sucks as much of your breast into his mouth as humanely possible. Tongue flicking the pebbled area, coercing your orgasm from you. “Cum with me, baby.” His muffled command shoots straight to your filled core.

As he feels you spasm around his thickness, he stills balls deep. “There it is, baby…” Spilling his cum inside your warmth. Plugging you, keeping you full of him. Joel relaxes his body against yours, finding your mouth to kiss you gently. Sweaty foreheads against one another. Joel goes to push off of you, his comforting body heat about to be ripped away.

"No! Wanna feel you longer, please."

Your protest makes Joel's heart surge. "Of course, sweet girl." Wrapping his large arms around you, he flips you both so that your soft plush body lays above him. The new angle makes his spent cock nudge a bit deeper, you both moan at the faint squelch of his cum overflowing your cunt. "You're so perfect," he mutters.

Smiling into his full chest, you leave a swift kiss. "So are you. Thank you for this. For.. everything."

Joel's hands finds your back as he begins gentle strokes onto your supple skin, his head resting atop your own. "Thank you, darlin'. I want you to understand something, you might just be the finest thing that ever happened to Sarah and I. Y'know, she didn't really want to see her mom. Never had the best relationship with her. She just wanted to spend the remainder of the summer havin' ya over everyday to swim and all. That girl admires you more than anyone."

Eyes foggy, you shift to gaze up at him. "And what does her father think?"

Joel pauses briefly, rich brown orbs beaming into yours. "Think she's damn right. She didn't want me to tell you this, but she left so I could have some alone time with you — take ya out. Scolded me sayin' by the time she's back, we better be together." He laughs at the thought, you join him. Picturing that 4'9 ball of fire lecturing her father on the rules of dating.

"So, you're asking me out Miller?" You question with a heavy hopeful heart.

"Should've done it forever ago, darlin'." He confesses, placing a delicate kiss on your temple.

And with that, you place your head back onto the warm chest of the man you've craved your entire life. Realizing, ever since that day where he first greeted you with that sultry gentleman voice — you were never truly alone.

thank you truly for reading! let me know your thoughts below or in asks!! reblogs are greatly appreciated <3

[pascalluvur]

Feverish

pairing: dad!joel (26) x child!daughter (4)

summary: You get sick for the first time and dad absolutely freaks out.

warnings: mild sickness, not graphic and mainly fluff.

setting: Austin, Texas 1993

pov: 2nd person

wc: 2.9k

masterlist

It started with a cough.

Just a little rasp in your breathing. Nothing too serious or anything that Joel was too worried about.

It had happened before in the change of weather. It was now September and the shift in climate was subtle at first, a slightly cooler breeze. August ended in a haze of relentless heat, the kind that clung to your skin and turned the pavement into a slow-cooking skillet. But now that September was creeping in, the sky started soften and the weather got a little cooler.

But what Joel wasn’t expecting, was for you to creep into his room at three am, breaths wheezy, throat raw and coughing up phlegm.

Joel just about had an aneurysm.

He took the next day off work, calling Tommy in a panic, frantically asking if he needed to take you to the hospital. But, Tommy did manage to calm him down. Remind him that you weren’t immune to sickness and that a cold would come about eventually.

The closest thing you’d ever had to a cold was an ear infection when you were seven months old and even at something as mild as that, Joel still freaked out.

You weren’t in kindergarten just yet. You were still only four years old so Joel didn’t really understand where you’d caught it from — not that it really mattered in the first place.

The first thing Joel did was give you a bath. He’d read somewhere that it was best to keep kids calm and content while sick so they didn’t panic. He’d also read that it was best for the parent not to panic either, but Joel wasn’t really doing a great job at that.

Joel peeled off your soft, pink pyjamas, tossing them at the laundry basket and completely missing before he lifted you into the bath as if you were made of glass, easing you into the warm water and letting you settled into the tub

Your little body was shivering but the bath seemed to help with your temperatur, bringing it up a little. You settled back against the tub, little legs stretching out beneath you. The way your eyebrows pinched together and the fact that you were refusing to play with your rubber ducky, was a tell-tale sign that you were annoyed about staying off from daycare.

“You scowlin’ at me, honey?” Joel laughed, sitting down beside the tub, the knees of his jeans already damp.

“Nuh uh.” You said, refusing your father’s gaze, your scowl deepening.

“Yuh uh.” He responded, mocking your sassy tone. He picked up the ceramic jug and poured some of the blue water down your back. “You upset bout missin’ out on daycare?”

You opened your mouth to answer, but instead wheezed a little, a raspy cough coming out afterwards that made you clutch your chest. Joel frowned and brought a hand to your back, rubbing slow circles on your damp skin.

“Easy, honey. Breathe through it. I gotcha. Daddy’s right here.” He said, trying not to fuss too much and stress you out.

Your cough eventually died down and you slumped back against the bathtub, bringing your little legs up under your chin. “I don’t like bein’ sick daddy.” You said, a little pout on your face.

Joel’s heart cracked a little. “I know ya don’t. Shoot, I’d take it from ya if I could.” He poured some White Rain Strawberry Splash onto a sponge. He scrubbed you up with it, lathering your shoulders, back, tummy and chest. He then handed it to you to finish off your arms and legs while he lathered up your hair. You liked to wash yourself — even though you were only four, you were still so independent always hollering “I can do it, daddy!” Whenever he tried to help you with something. You were growing up faster than Joel would like, and even when you were sick as a dog, you still wanted to do your own thing.

“My head hurts, daddy.” You croaked, voice still a little raspy. “Everytime you talk it just jumps around in my head.” You used your fist to rub at your eye.

“I’ll getcha some medicine after we’re done with this bath.” He said, using the plastic jug to rinse the suds out of your hair. “Is this your way of tellin’ me to shut my trap?”

You squeezed your eyes shut, face screwing up as he rinsed your head, but a little giggle escaped your mouth despite yourself. “Uh huh.”

After a couple more minutes soaking in the bath, Joel scooped you up, wrapping you in a warm towel, fresh from the dryer just how you liked it. He carried you into your room, setting you down on your bed, the oversized towel making you look like a mini burrito.

“Now, you gonna let me put some of this on you without squirmin’?” Joel asks, hand on his hip, the other holding up a jar of vicks vapour rub.

“Daddyyy,” you whined, huffing out a wheezy breath. “I don’t want the stinky stuff. It smells like toothpaste.”

“Oh I know, but when it’s on you’ll feel like a million bucks. He scooped some out of the tub and warmed it up with his fingers. Then, he rubbed it into your chest and on the soles of your feet, turning to your sock drawer.

“You want the ones with the clouds or the bunnies?” He called out, he definitely wasn’t getting that wrong again. Last time he gave you the wrong socks, you threw a fit and refused to wear them.

“Bunnies, daddy. They make me sleep better.”

“Right, how could I forget?” He said, kneeling down to cover your little feet with the fluffy, bunny-patterned socks.

He slipped some clean jammies on you once you were dry — lilac pyjama pants and the matching teddy bear shirt to go with it.

Now, you were layed up on the couch under way too many blankets, big bird plush under one arm, scribbling away on your colouring book. Surprisingly, it was raining out, which was unusual for Texas but another clue as to where you got your cold from. Knowing you were safe, colouring in your princess book, he felt like he could finally breath.

“You want some juice?”

You hummed in response, too focused on multitasking between finding your blue crayon and watching Kermit and Miss Piggy fight.

“Orange juice, or apple? .. or the mystery juice?” Joel said, an over exaggerated look on his face.

That made you snap your head up. “Mystery!” You said, excited but weakly.

Joel turned into the kitchen, chuckling to himself as he filled up a glass of water and brought it into you. “Boom. Water. Plot twist.”

The excitement in your eyes died down and your expression turned deadpan, still a hint of playfullness and a twitch of a smile at your lips. “Daaad.”

Outside, the weather was poor. Rain thundering against the window. Joel was just glad he didn’t have to work today, for your sake and his with that damn weather. He gave you some grape flavoured, liquid Tylenol and had one of the Muppet Movies playing in the background. He sat in the armchair, legs crossed, messy hair, shirtless with a coffee in hand.

If someone were to come in, they’d probably think he was the one who was sick. He’d tried to stay calm, remind himself that it was just a cold and nothing more. But he couldn’t help but worry that it was something more. That he wasn’t doing whatever this was right. And while Joel was feeling like the worst father in the world, you were curled up without a care in the word. Tongue poking out as you coloured, meticulously, keeping it inside the lines. “Is this pink or purple, Daddy?” You’d asked a couple minutes ago.

By the time dinner rolled around, you were sitting up, feeling a little better from the medicine he gave you. Joel stood in front of the stove, mixing around the pre-made Mac & Cheese sauce while the noodles cooked.

“Whatcha makin’ daddy?” You asked.

Joel continued to stir. “Kraft Mac And Cheese. “Try not to pass out from excitement. ” He answered sarcastically without turning around.

“I won’t!” You said brightly, kicking your legs that were dangling under the table. “I didn’t even cry when I coughed real big.”

A soft smile crept onto Joel’s face. God, you were just the sweetest kid ever. “Ya sure didn’t. Bravest little girl I know.”

“Is it the Orange kind or the Yellow kind?” You asked with a sniffle.

Joel peeked over his shoulder. “Orange.”

“Good,” You said, tone turning more serious. “The yellow one is gross.”

You both ate dinner in silence, except from dad humming along to some Dan Seals song that was playing on the radio. Joel’s face was weathered for a man of twenty—six. A deep furrow in his brow that never quite went away and shadows under his eyes that had faded from a faint grey to an almost purply looking colour.

“You look tired, daddy.” You remarked, mouth full of macaroni

“I do, huh?”

You nodded slowly and sniffled. “Uh huh. Your hair’s all squiggly.”

Joel let out a low chuckle and pushed some of his dark hair out of his face. “Yeah well, it does that when I worry bout ya.”

You tilted you head, confused. “Why? I’m okay.”

“I know baby. Just can’t help it.” He murmured softly, reaching over and stroking the apple of your cheek. “Just a daddy thing is all.”

The rest of the evening was spent in the living room. Joel let you have some Ben & Jerrys to help with your throat which was still apparently sore. He’d brought you up to bed around nine despite you insisting that you weren’t tired.

“You let Daddy know if you feel any worse, okay?” He whispered, pulling the blanket up to your chin and smoothing back your soft brown hair.

“Even if you’re sleepin’?” You asked, hand going up to touch your dad’s a face, a little habit you’d developed as a baby that you’d still not quite grown out of.

“Even if I’m dreamin’ of the Grand Canyon and ridin’ a horse backwards.” Joel quipped, pressing a kiss to your little palm and leaning down to press another to your forehead.

You giggled sleepily, clutching your big bird teddy. “That’s silly.”

“So are you, baby girl. Night night.”

Joel wasn’t five minutes on the couch until he started to doze, The Tonight Show forgotten on the TV. A cup of decaf coffee gone cold in his hand. He kept glancing toward the hallway, ears straining for any sound of you coughing, or crying, or just calling out for him. He hated how his chest still tightened every time he heard a creak— like he was always one step away from screwing it all up. He could build a house from the ground up, rewire an entire breaker box, fix an engine with his eyes closed. But when it came to your runny nose and sore little throat? He felt useless. Like he was made of tin foil instead of muscle and bone.

Maybe he was overdoing it. Tommy had said as much on the phone. “It’s just a cold, man. Every kid gets sick sometimes. You ain’t gotta throw out her mattress and sanitize the whole damn house.” But Joel couldn’t help it. You were his whole world. A tiny, feverish, sassy version of the best parts of him — and probably the better parts of your mom, if he was honest. He just wished he knew how to keep you from ever hurting, ever suffering. But that wasn’t the way this worked. Kids got sick. Kids got better. Still, he couldn’t stop watching the hallway like it might reach out and swallow you up.

He leaned back into the couch, rubbing his palm over the back of his neck, then down to the spot over his heart. It hadn’t stopped hammering all day. You had barely coughed in the last hour, so maybe the medicine was finally doing its thing. Still. He’d probably go check on you in ten minutes. Or five. Maybe now. Just as he was about to get up, he heard the soft pad of little feet on the stairs, followed by a scratchy little voice.

“Daddy?” You called out softly, hands clutching you Big Bird plushie like it was made of glass.

You hadn’t even made it down the last step by the time Joel was on you, lifting you up into his arms and wrapping your legs around his middle. “Hey— hey, is everythin’ okay?” He asked, trying to mask his panic by keeping his voice soft.

Your arms looped around his neck lazily and your head rested in the crook of it. “Just couldn’t sleep, Daddy.” You said, voice soft and raspy. “Wanted to be with you.”

Joel walked over to the couch with you still in his arms, settling down on it and positioning you on his lap, facing him, big bird squashed between the two of you.

“You sure.. you uh, you ain’t feelin’ worse or nothin’?”

“Nuh huh. Just wanted you daddy.”

His heart cracked a little at your little voice sounding so raspy and soft, it made him tug you closer to his chest. “You still feelin’ hot, baby girl?” He asked pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Hm. Little bit. You feel it.”

“Every time I take my covers off, I’m too cold and everytime I put them on, I’m too warm.” You said, a sad little look in your eye.

“Aw, honey. Sucks, huh?” Joel rubbed your back gently, voice going soft. “How bout I go getcha a snack, maybe that’ll help ya sleep.”

You nodded around your thumb, biting your finger nail as Joel lifted you off his lap and set you down on the couch.

You looked so small on the big thing, little legs swinging, arms tight around your plushie. “Can I have cookies..?”

“Cookies huh?” Joel smiled crookedly. “Yeah, why not. Just two though, Doctor Daddy’s orders.”

You giggled sleepily. “You ain’t a doctor.”

Joel just chuckled, turning around and winking before walking toward the kitchen. He grabbed a plate and tossed tow Chips Ahoy cookies on, then grabbed a little mug, pouring in some milk and heating it for about thirty seconds in the microwave.

The microwave beeped softly, and Joel carefully took the little mug of warm milk out, testing the temperature with his pinky. Just right. He brought the snack over on a small plate, balancing it with the mug, and returned to find you still perched on the edge of the couch — blankie pooled around your waist, hair a fuzzy mess, thumb back in your mouth.

“Alright, cookie monster,” Joel said gently, sitting down beside you. “Come on over here.”

You shuffled back onto his lap without a word, leaning your weight against his chest. He settled the blanket around your shoulders and kissed the top of your head.

“These are the magic kind,” Joel whispered, handing you the cookie plate. “Gonna help you sleep good and dream ‘bout unicorns and bouncin’ castles.”

You gave a soft little laugh and took a bite out of the first cookie, crumbs clinging to your lips. Then you turned and held the half-bitten cookie up toward him, hand tiny and sticky.

“Wanna bite, Daddy?”

Joel smiled, heart thudding so warm it almost hurt. He leaned in and took a small bite right beside yours, making an exaggerated “Mmmm” sound that made you giggle again.

He held the mug while you took sips, careful not to spill. After a few more bites, your head started drooping a little, body melting back into his chest.

“Daddy?” you murmured, voice all thick with sleep and milk.

“Yeah, baby?”

“Can I sleep on you… not in my bed?”

Joel glanced down at your flushed little face, eyes already half-lidded, and ran his hand through your soft hair. “Yeah, baby girl. You can sleep right here with Daddy. I ain’t movin’ a muscle.”

You hummed a quiet, happy sound and nestled in, head tucked under his chin, blankie wrapped tight around both of you now. Joel reached over to click off the lamp, the room falling into a soft hum of the TV and rain tapping against the window.

He rocked you gently where you sat on his lap, rubbing small circles into your back and kissing your temple every so often. You were already dozing, fingers curled around his shirt.

And right then, Joel didn’t care how tired he was. Or how sore his back would be in the morning. You were safe, you were warm, and you were okay.

[fairyleiii]

Joel Miller helping his girly girlfriend bake, doing pink icing and cute little sugar charms/sprinkles. I just think it would be really cute

- ✿︎

joel's co-workers had been working in construction with the man for many years, and they would all agree that he was a tough guy. gruff, not partiicularly expressive. that was joel miller.

little did they know, joel had a little secret.

you.

with your sugary sweet smiles and optimistic mindset, you saw the best in everyone. the best in joel.

so every night when joel returns home from work, his co-woerkers assume he comes home to a beer and a game of football on the tv. when instead he has you.

joel takes his dirty boots off at the front door per your request, to avoid tracking any mud inside on your new pink rug.

joel was greeted with the sight of you blissfully stirring away, mixing up a bowl of cake batter.

sneaking up behind you, whispering into your ear.

"joel you ruined the suprise you big… idiot!"

teasing your expression, jioel mockingly rased hishans to his face in false shock, "oh my girl has a potty mouth, huh?"

you shook your head, stubborn as always.

“be a good girl for me baby, yeah?”

you always were.

[lowrisemiller]

bed breaks when joel and reader are.. yknow

ꜱᴛᴜʀᴅʏ

joel miller x fem!reader

had sm fun writing this tyyy

you and joel just moved in together and are in need of a bed frame all is good until you give it the real test

masterlist | 1.9k words | teasing, smoochin, fingering, unprotected piv sex, DOGGY😛

You wake up to a Joel-shaped furnace beside you, his arm thrown over your waist like he’s got some claim to the bed you technically found first in the housing lottery. But he moved in two weeks ago, and now everything in the little blue house smells like cedar, coffee, and leather.

Home.

“Mornin’,” he rasps, lips brushing your neck as you stretch.

“There’s a community garage sale today,” you mumble. “We need a bed frame.”

Joel groans like you just suggested he skin a clicker with his bare hands. “The floor works just fine.”

“Joel,” you say, rolling onto your side to face him. “We’re not savages. You threw your back out last week tying your boot. You really wanna keep sleeping on a mattress like a college sophomore?”

That earns a low chuckle. “Fine. But if I end up haulin’ somethin’ heavy, you better make it worth my while.”

You press a kiss to his jaw. “Deal.”

The Jackson town square is buzzing. Booths are arranged in crooked rows, tables overflowing with mismatched dishes, fishing gear, hand-knit sweaters, and the occasional hodgepodge of someone’s pre-outbreak DVDs. A little boy walks by dragging a garden gnome by the hat.

You and Joel circle the perimeter until you spot it: an iron bed frame leaning against a tent, spray-painted with the word “$10 OR TRADE”. It’s rusted around the edges, but it’s got this vintage flair—like it belonged in some early 2000s Airbnb before the world went to shit.

“Sturdy?” Joel asks the booth owner, a woman in her sixties with a braid down to her waist.

“Stood the test of time,” she says. “Belonged to my sister. She and her husband were…active. Frame held up just fine.”

Joel grunts and crosses his arms. “That supposed to reassure me?”

You hide your laugh in your sleeve.

Eventually, you trade two jars of homemade pickles and a box of ammo for it. Joel loads the pieces onto a borrowed handcart, muttering under his breath the whole way home.

It’s not a bad bed. Once cleaned, the black iron headboard gleams in the sunlight pouring through the window. Joel grumbles over the screws, but you can tell he’s secretly enjoying the project. There’s something boyish in the way he crouches beside the frame, a screwdriver in hand, hair falling into his eyes.

You hand him bolts, trying not to stare at the curve of his forearms. “You know,” you say, leaning against the wall, “this could be a new thing for us. Domestic life. Fixing furniture. Hosting dinner parties. Maybe raising a goat.”

Joel snorts. “I ain’t raisin’ no goddamn goat.”

“Not even if I name her after you?”

He looks up, one brow raised. “You wanna name a goat Joel?”

“Joel-ine,” you say sweetly.

He points the screwdriver at you. “I’m takin’ back that screw if you keep talkin’.”

Later That Night

The frame holds.

You test it with gentle movement. Then a bounce. Joel watches with an amused shake of his head, arms crossed over his chest as you kneel on the mattress and try to rattle it.

“So,” you say. “Wanna christen it?”

He doesn’t answer. Just walks toward you slowly and sure, like you’re prey and he’s already halfway full but greedy for more.

His hands go to your hips. “You just want me to break it in.”

“I want you to break me in.”

He kisses you like he’s starved. Not just hungry for you, but for this—home, warmth, normalcy. His hands are on your waist, pulling you close, his mouth hot against yours. When you tug at his belt, he groans into your neck.

“Slow down,” he mutters, fingers slipping under your shirt to map the curve of your back. “Ain’t even admired you yet.”

You sit back on your heels atop the mattress, letting him look. The moonlight streaks in through the blinds, catching the soft sheen of sweat already blooming on your collarbones. Joel’s eyes darken as he takes you in—shirtless, flushed, breathing hard.

“You’re trouble,” he says.

You smirk. “And you like it.”

He lunges forward and kisses you hard, all tongue and teeth, like he’s trying to prove something. You pull him down on top of you, gasping as his weight presses you deep into the mattress. His thigh parts your legs. You roll your hips up against him, and the low, strangled sound he makes sends heat coiling through your belly.

“Been thinkin’ about this all goddamn day,” he growls, sliding a hand down your stomach, slipping inside your waistband. “You wearin’ these little shorts… bendin’ over that booth…”

“Joel,” you gasp, clutching his arm.

He slides his fingers between your legs and finds you soaked. His touch is slow, deliberate, maddening. He rubs tight circles, watching your face the whole time. “Fuck. This all for me?”

You nod, too breathless to speak.

Joel dips his head, kissing your jaw, your throat, your chest. He takes one nipple into his mouth, hot and insistent, while his fingers keep working you. You arch under him, mouth falling open in a moan that’s half his name.

“Turn around,” he whispers. “Wanna see you like that.”

You shift, spine arching as you flip onto your stomach. Joel growls his approval as you lift your hips, bracing your hands against the pillows. He kneels behind you and drags your shorts down slowly, reverently, baring you inch by inch. The cool air hits your slick heat, and you shiver.

“Jesus,” he mutters, running his hands over your ass, spreading you open. “Look at you.”

You feel the blunt head of his cock tease at your entrance, thick and hot and so ready.

“Joel,” you beg, unable to take the teasing anymore. “Please.”

He slides in slow, inch by inch, watching you clench around him. The stretch is almost too much—but god, you crave it. You want to be full of him. Marked by him. Taken apart and put back together again.

“Fuck,” he hisses, bottoming out. “You feel so fuckin’ good, baby.”

He starts to move. Deep, languid thrusts that make the bed creak with every snap of his hips. You fist the sheets, crying out as he hits that spot over and over, your thighs trembling.

“Been wantin’ this,” he groans, picking up the pace. “Every night. Every fuckin’ minute.”

You push back to meet his rhythm, skin slapping against skin, breath hitching. It’s primal and messy—desperate—and the bedframe is not handling it well.

You can feel it wobbling.

“Don’t stop,” you pant. “I don’t care, just—don’t stop—”

Joel grabs your hips and fucks into you harder, faster. The sound of your bodies moving in rhythm fills the room, and you’re so close, it’s maddening. His fingers find your clit again, rubbing frantically, and you fall over the edge with a strangled moan, shaking beneath him.

He follows with a growl, slamming into you once, twice—then the frame snaps. A deafening crack. The mattress tips sideways and Joel shouts, losing his balance as you both tumble onto the floor in a sweaty, tangled heap.

Silence.

You’re breathless, stunned, still trying to come down from the high as Joel groans, “Goddamn it.”

“Yup,” you wheeze. “You broke our sex bed.”

Joel shifts off you and sits up, bare and exasperated. “They said it was sturdy.”

“Maybe just not Joel-fucking-me-into-next-week sturdy.”

He scrubs a hand over his face. Then laughs.

You’re still giggling when he reaches down and pulls you into his lap, one hand cupping the back of your neck. “Guess I owe you a better bed.”

You thread your fingers into his messy curls and lean your forehead against his. “Guess you do.”

He kisses you again, slower this time. Like you’ve got nowhere to be. No clickers. No broken frame under your asses.

Just a mattress on the floor, the man you love, and the moonlight painting soft shapes on the wall.

The Next Morning

You wake up sore and boneless, Joel snoring beside you.

There’s a knock at the front door.

You throw on a shirt and answer it to find Tommy standing there with a coffee mug and a smirk.

“Y’all break your new bed already?” he asks.

You blink. “How’d you—”

“Ellie heard the crash from two houses over.”

You groan and shut the door in his face.

Joel mumbles from the bedroom, “We’re buildin’ the next one ourselves.”

You call back, “With what? Vibration-proof steel?”

He grins into his pillow. “Damn straight.”

divider by @cursed-carmine 🏷️ @zevrra @xodilfluvr @littlemillersbaby @millersdoll @grayandthyme

[mountainsandmayhem]

Pairing: Millionaire Joel Miller x Female Reader

Rating: 18+ 🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️

Updated Word Count: ~90k

Series Summary: After recently graduating from university, your best friend offers you a job cleaning luxury homes for clients you’ll never know. It’s only temporary and a good way to save money for when you go back to get your law degree. That’s what you’re promised at least. Easy. Simple. Mundane. That is, until one of your clients is home and everything that you felt was missing in your life starts to fall into place. This goes against the NDA you signed and you could get fired. Or worse, you could fall in love.

Content Warning: In order to avoid spoilers I will not be warning you of everything. This story will contain sexually explicit material around the world of BDSM. Please remember that even with the age gap betweeen Joel and Reader, they are both legal and consenting adults. Although my intentions are never to trigger anyone, you are solely responsible for the content you consume. That being said, as a survivor of sexual assault none of this story will contain dubcon or consensual non consent. At the heart of it all, this is a love story.

AN: I figured that @mermaidgirl30, @littlevenicebitch69, @burntheedges and @joelmillerisapunk are all sick of me yelling at them about this story so I should start sharing! Thank you to the 4 of you for all your kind words and encouragement. To the 800+ of you that follow me, thank you for being such beautiful souls and encouraging me to work on my craft. I hope you love this series as much as I love each and every one of you. Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5 - Part One

Chapter 5 - Part Two

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Epilogue

Follow @mountainsandmayhem-updates and turn on notifications for updates.

[xmissrogersx]

I just know it, darlin’ | Joel Miller

tags: reader is pregnant, ellie and Joel being protective, joel being a daddy’s girl of course.

my writing is entirely my own. Any adaptation and/or copy is forbidden.

i hope you are enjoying my stories! U help me a lot if you give me a ♡! All the love.

priscila’s materlist

Ellie was in her room with Dina. Both were reading old comics.

-Hey, it's great that you're going to have a sister…—the brunette said with emotion.

-Or brother, this people doesn’t wanna know it yet. But yes, it's great and everything... the wait doesn't end anymore —Ellie sighed.

-Why do you say that? María told me that a pregnant woman is sometimes more sensitive, but I don't think Paris is like that, is she?

-Well... -Ellie said under her breath, not wanting to sound too obvious. She loves the blonde very much, who looked like a motherly figure for her in every way possible.

▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

-Hush little baby don't say a word, papa's going to buy a mockingbird!

Paris entered the kitchen singing with a microphone, that on Maria's recommendation, the baby could hear the voices of her parents.

Joel was having his morning coffee when he heard his wife enter, and then snorted under his breath and brought his right hand to between his brows.

Ellie was having her cereal for breakfast, raising both hands to her ears and resting her head against the table.

-And if the mockingbird won't sing, papa's going to buy a diamond ring.

-Papa is going to buy 10 diamonds just to shut up that fucking bird —the girl whispered to her father, who silenced her, not wanting Paris to listen.

-What do you want for lunch today? —the young woman asked both of them.

-Whatever you want, darlin’ —Joel replied, stroking her hand, which made the girl start tearing her up.

-Oh, not again —Ellie begged. When Paris started with the "hormonal crying" session it was difficult to stop her.

-You're so sweet —between hiccups and small tears that went down her cheeks.

-Okay, I'm going, I’m late to meet Jesse.

Getting up to quickly go to the door, the blonde stopped her so she wouldn't forget her lunch.

-Thank you.

-I put you a chocolate with extra peanut that I bought the week before, you deserve it for your great first patrol, baby.

The girl hugged her as best she could because of the woman's big belly, who was already starting to cry again.

-It's okay, I'm leaving —Ellie ran to the door.

-I have to go with Tommy, beautiful —Joel announced while hugging her from behind. Paris sighed.

-It's okay... I guess you have to go, you have no choice —she walked away to start climbing the stairs slowly.

-He wants to show me the plans for the new houses...

-I know, I understand. Well, then I'll go upstairs, to our room...

While the young woman said those words, she began to unbutton her shirt, and lower her skirt, revealing a set of black lingerie with lace that made Joel not remember how to breathe.

-Do you think I should lie down and take it out? I'm feeling a little hot.

-It would be a mistake if I say no. You're beautiful, baby girl —he exclaimed with a dark look.

The blonde smiled under her breath.

-So, do you have to go with Tommy?

-Fuck Tommy.

Joel take her in his arms to go up to their room.

▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

Paris sat on the couch next to her husband, who was reading an old construction manual.

-Officially there are only 2 months left to meet him —the blonde exclaimed excitedly to Joel, who approached her to place a kiss on his lips, and then another on his bulging belly.

-Don't you want to the baby hear your voice? Maria said he must listen to the voices of both parents.

-Baby, I think she already listens to me without needing that thing, don't worry, the baby will know our voices.

-¿she? ¿how do you know is a girl? —Paris raise an eyebrow.

-I Just know it, darlin’ — and he relaxed, believing that he had ended the subject.

The woman nodded taking his hand, and then took the microphone again.

-Twinkle twinkle, little lamb! —Joel was startled by his girlfriend's scream.

-Paris, please don't sing anymore -he speak as wisely as I could.

-Why? —she asked surprised.

-Because... you don't sing very well, baby...

-You finally told her —a voice roared behind them.

The blonde opened her mouth in indignation, looking at her partner and daughter, to get ready to answer the accusation.

-Calm down, we don't want the baby to hear us fight. Come, let's go for an ice cream.

-How dare you, you..

-Hey, we said no fights in front of the baby.

-That's ridiculous, I'm always in front of the baby, Joel —she pointed to her big belly.

-Paris just calm down, okay? When all this is over, we will laugh at this —Ellie appeased.

-Your out-of-tune songs, your nocturnal cravings, your incessant cries... we love you, but it's already getting very unbearable —the girl listed.

-You're going through something huge, baby, it's normal. It will be over, soon —Joel finished.

The woman saw them with a grimace on her face, and then smiled falsely.

-You are two tiny little man to me right now — she approached slowly making a gesture of crushing with his fingers.- and you must leave this house to return with more respect, and a pizza!

Father and daughter were stunned, they didn't expect Paris reaction.

-Pizza sounds good —he said, cutting the silence.

-Yes, I'm hungry for pizza —Ellie replied.

Before leaving, they both walked to the blonde to kiss her on each cheek, who was with her arms crossed and with her eyebrow raised.

-With double cheese —the young woman demanded.

-Yes, darlin’ —Joel replied, and then went out the door.

▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

-Wow —said an amazed Dina to her friend.

-Yep, althought I partly understand her, it must be horrible to carry that heavy —the girl moved her hands to her belly.

A knock on the door made both girls scream their heads, seeing a blonde hair.

-Girls, I don't want to ruin your fun, but it's already past 10; and tomorrow you have training. Go to sleep. Ellie, you already know how your father gets.

-I already want him to be born —Ellie settled inside her sheets, to which the young woman wrapped her.

-Just like me, I can't stand not being able to see my feet anymore —she exclaimed, causing the girl a laugh.-Good night sweetheart.

-Good rest, ma —the girl replied, causing a jump in Paris heart.

Paris went out the bedroom door to see her man lying on the wall, who smiled to see her emotion.

-It's already the third time she tells me "ma" -she sobbed with joy, to which Joel took her face to bring their breaths closer and merge into one.

They moved away for lack of air, but without ceasing to look at each other with the same love they had seen for 3 years.

-You are, baby. You're her mother.

Paris felt blessed. The world would be chaos, but his world was perfect.

Hello baby girls!

I hope you have seen the references of Modern Family! Personally MF is my fav comedy series.

If you help me by sharing my story on your profiles you would help me a lot, I love writing very much, I feel that great things are coming. And with you reading my stories, the more I want to do them.

Thank you for reading!

Priscila🌸

[asoftsighh]

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊ joel miller x reader ₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

joel helps you when you hit your head - 751 words

You’re trying to catch your breath when your foot catches on something, an uneven step or stray debris. It doesn’t matter, because all you see next is your hands in front of you, helplessly reaching out to stop your fall. 

It doesn’t help. 

Instead, the world tilts, your vision blurring as your head hits the concrete beneath you. Somewhere nearby, a voice is calling out your name — deep, frantic, but already sounding distant. 

Your head throbs, the pain hot and sharp, spreading outward in waves. You try to move and groan, the small movement sending waves of pain through your skull. 

“Hey. Hey, no, don’t- don’t move. Just stay still.”

The voice is familiar. Gruff. Joel. 

You blink, slow and heavy, vision clearing. He finally comes into view — hovering over you with worry etched into every line and groove of his face. 

“Jesus,” he mutters, his thumb brushing against your throbbing temple. His touch is gentle, barely even there. “You hit your head pretty hard, honey.”

You have some vague thought about how the pet name would’ve made you blush in better conditions. None of that now, not with broken concrete slabs between your back and your backpack nor the bright sun beating down on your both. 

You try to say something, but all that comes out is a pained, weak noise. Your tongue feels leaden, your jaw wired shut. 

“You okay to move?” He asks, his hand dropping away from you. There’s no blood on his hand, thankfully. The sun halos around his head, each second of brightness sends another pulse of pain within you. You give up entirely and shut your eyes, nodding in response. 

You suffer through the next minute. The moment Joel gets you on your feet, your arm over his shoulders, a rush of nausea uncoils in your gut, like a fire spreading. You clamp a hand over your mouth unnecessarily, your breakfast remaining in its place. Through slitted eyes, you watch the ground as it changes from concrete to dirty tile, from mid-day sun to beneath a roof.

“There you go, come on,” he murmurs gently, as if coaxing a frightened horse. He eases your backpack off, another arm around your middle until your back hits a wall and your butt meets the floor. He joins you shortly after, kneeling in front of you. With one calloused but gentle hand, he holds your chin, turning it to look at your wound. Your eyes flutter shut with the contact.

You swallow against the nausea clawing at your throat. Your head and ears feel like they’ve been filled with cotton, muffling everything slightly so that you hear your pulse over anything else. You open your eyes again. 

Joel’s face is close, brows knit together in a familiar frown. His hand is warm, now on your chin. 

“I’m okay,” you whisper, jaw loosening. 

He shakes his head, brows somehow furrowing deeper. “No you ain’t.” He abandons your jaw to turn for his bag, fetching his canister of water. You shiver in his absence. He holds it to your lips, helping you lean your head back just enough to swallow a few mouthfuls of water. 

“Lucky you ain’t bleeding,” he says, his voice soft. “Probably just a concussion. We’ll get you back when you can move again.”

You swallow the remains of the water, easing your head back against the cool wall, stretching out your trembling legs in front of you. “What about the patrol route?” Your voice is low, but he seems to hear you just fine.

“Don’t worry bout that,” he reassures. 

You glance over at him, trying to ignore the pounding of your skull. “But someone has to do it. This trail hasn’t been checked in almost-”

Joel gives you a look, one that shuts you up. It’s not unkind, only firm.

“Don't care,” he says, face and voice both solid. “Ain’t nothing more important than you being in one piece. No use doing the route when you’re falling over, sick.”

You manage a small smile, one that barely tugs at the corners of your mouth. “You’re so stubborn, Miller.”

He doesn’t answer, simply watches you like there’s nowhere he’d rather be. His hands find one of yours, cradling it between them like some valuable object. One that he’d rather hurt himself than see hurt.

You squeeze his hand, barely a twitch of your fingers, a faint breath of laughter escaping your lips. “You scare me when you’re like this.”

Joel's thumb brushes over your knuckles.

“Yeah,” he murmurs. “I scare myself, too.”

[iamthatonefangirl]

relax - nsfw jackson era joel miller

writing (and hopefully posting) this before tonight's episode comes out bc. well. you all know.

not my best bc i am sick but this was on my mind<3

~~~

"that's it, pretty girl, come on over here," he encourages.

you're exhausted. every muscle in your body is yelling at you to go home and get some sleep. but you'd rather be here, in Joel's office with him, waiting for him to finish up.

"Joel, I can just–"

"be awfully rude o' me to keep you waiting, darlin'," he drawls in that beautiful southern accent of his. he's ever the gentleman, knowing he has to work but wanting to make sure you know that you are his priority.

you hang your head and pull yourself off of the doorway you're leaning on. you make your way over to where he's sitting, still at his desk, with those glasses on, the ones that make your head absolutely spin with desire.

you reach your hands out in front of you to take his as you stand in front of him, and he tightly holds onto them, not letting you go anywhere. your eyes are weary and part of you just wants to go sit on his couch and nap. you consider it, but deep down, you crave his touch more than anything.

"c'mere, darlin'. come on," he encourages once more, gently tugging on your hands to urge you closer. he spreads his legs apart, pulling you to stand hovering over his thigh before sitting you down on it.

his hands come to wrap around your waist. you rest your head on his shoulder, almost half asleep. his hair tickles your nose from having grown out.

you fucking love his longer hair. it makes him look so pretty, so good, all your own.

his hands are warm against you, his body heat seeping into your cold bones. your eyes stay shut as he tilts his face towards you, whispering, "want me to make you feel better, sweetheart?"

you nod against his shoulder. he always makes you feel so good, takes all your worries away. you're so grateful for him, making sure you're always taken care of, even now when he's supposed to be working.

his hands adjust to center themselves on your hips while yours remain gently wrapped around his torso.

"don't gotta move a muscle, babygirl," he assures you. "just let me take care o' ya."

his voice is like molasses in your ears, and you feel yourself melting against him. he slowly begins rocking your hips against his leg, ever so slowly. you turn your head to face downwards, pressing your forehead to his shoulder, and let out a low whine at the feeling he's stirring within you.

"shh, shh," he whispers, still dragging your hips so gently over his thigh, "just relax."

his strength to move you against him is no match for the friction of your denim pants against his. all you feel is the comfortable pressure of his leg between yours, gently rocking you in a perfect rhythm to ease the stress in your mind and help lure you into that sleepy state you're near.

you settle, as instructed, leaning all your weight against him as he continues to help build the heat you feel between your thighs.

"Joel," you whine, "'s good."

"yeah? you like that?" he begins. "bet you'd like me to take you home, wouldn't you? fuck you so soft, it'll put you to sleep, baby. would ya like that, baby, huh?"

you whine. that sounds like heaven.

"please," you whisper.

"oh, I will, baby. I will," he reassures you. "just need you to finish right here, baby. then I'll take you home. I'll put my mouth on you real nice, just the way you like, yeah?"

that's all you want. to go home, take a hot shower, and just let him worship you.

your whole body warms as the pressure of him against you finally takes over. your climax is ever so soft, a gentle release of the pressure and stress of your mind, all washing away. you whine when it happens, and any tension you might have had left in your bones falls away.

he's always there when you need him, always there to take on your stressors and anxieties as his own. he's your backbone, always supporting you when you need it the most.

and even when you fall, he'll be there to catch you.

~~~

this was my first work for joel and i need practice and it's kind of overshadowed by the fact that i have to go watch s2 e2 after this but oh well <3

masterlist

join my tag list

joel tag list:

@clavedelune @bananababygirl10

[pennyold]

A calm morning with your husband Joel Miller bringing you the breakfast to bed, and your son cuddling with you | everything is fluff

a/n: this is the most beautiful blurb i have ever wrote, its the cutes seeing husband!joel taking care of his wife and son during a Sunday mornin, makes my heart melt. i don’t think i could let go this Joel. i could never let him go, trust me, he’s my empire rn.

main masterlist ↲

peace and love, penny ★

Joel was preparing your breakfast while his son Trevor sat comfortably at the table, watching television. He placed the food on a small table, carried it to the counter, and his son watched him, thinking about his mom immediately "Is mommy not coming down to eat?" Joel shook his head and gently kissed Trev's head, "Mommy is exhausted, I'll take the food to her bed, will you come with me?" he proposed to his son and the little boy nodded quickly without hesitation, getting off the island chair.

He took the pants of pajamas from his dad while going up the stairs, following him. Upon reaching the door of the room you shared with Joel, Trev took the doorknob and opened it quietly, not wanting to wake you. But you were already up, sitting in the middle of the bed with your back against the headboard. "Oh," you watched as Joel approached the bed, with the tray in his hands. You were wordless, your heart melted. "For the most perfect mom," he said as he placed the tray on your lap, kissed your cheek, and sat beside you.

Trev climbed onto the bed and sat next to you, you wrapped your arm around his back and hugged him, "My sweet boys, it looks delicious!" The food looked amazing, Joel had outdone himself this time, he wasn't one to cook daily, but he enjoyed it. "Try it and tell me if I end up like you." Joel smiled at you while crossing his arms. "Dad cooks delicious!" Trevor commented, excited. "Really? Well, let's give it a try."

You praised Joel a lot, he had put a lot of effort into getting your flavor, and he had succeeded. He wanted to please you for being such a good mother and wife, you are the world to him, just like Trevor, who had already fallen asleep by your side. Joel removed the table from the bed and set it aside, cuddled up with you, and placed a kiss on your cheek. "It was missing a bit of flavor," you whispered playfully. "Really?" he furrowed his brows. You laughed and rested your head on his shoulder. "I'm just playing, love" Joel shot you a look, "You hurt my feelings," he said dramatically while clutching his chest.

That Sunday you spend it at home, all of you in bed and watching movies. You enjoyed being together and spending time as a family. Like the beautiful family you have with Joel.

divider: @/enchanthings-a

[onlyheluvsme]

˗ˏˋdainty rings´ˎ˗

in which joel proposes — mdni, lowercase intended, established relationship, age gap [60s & 20s], fluff, mentions of: death, marriage, god *ೃ༄pls leave reqs!!

your head laid in joel's lap as his hands combed through your hair. it was finally warm in jackson and joel wanted to take the rare opportunity to show you a clearing he had found on patrol.

a worn gingham blanket laid beneath the both of you, the food you had packed sat mostly eaten next to you. the two of you had been out there for hours and sun had just began to set, shades of pink and purple on the horizon. it felt like the most peace the two of you had gotten in a while.

“i thought i would die alone, you know” you heard his southern drawl cut the calm silence from above you and your eyes snapped open, all sense of tranquility leaving your body. what?

joel’s hand paused its brushing in your hair, his eyes not on your face but on the disappearing sun, lightly squinting. without wasting another second you sat up, twisting to face him head on.

“joel what are you-” you frown with a slight shake of your head but he cuts you off with a light laugh,

“when i made it back to jackson with ellie i jus’ thought..” he paused sighing, “i been in this world a long time darlin, done some bad things” he finally looked at you but something haunted in his eyes.

one of his hands came up to your cheek, his thumb lightly began back and forth under your eye,

“i ain’t done nothing to deserve you, spent half my life killing people, i don’t understand how i get love you” he spoke in something close to a whisper, enough to drown out the crickets and breeze passing through the branches and leaves.

“ain’t never believed in a god till you but only something supernatural could've gotten you to me and every damn night i pray i get to keep you” his right hand ransacked his pocket but your chest was tight, ears were too hot, and your eyes were too blurry with tears to notice.

he continued,

“i know it don’t mean much now but i come from a time where this showed someone you loved ‘em and wanted to be with them, and fuck baby do i love you” he’s eyes guided your down to his calloused hand where a dainty ring was held between his two large fingers.

you eyes widen in shock; jaw going slack.

“marry me baby, even if its only a ring and we ain’t got no one to officiate-” your hands shot to his face and you kissed the poor man to finally shut him up.

“yes, yes, joel, yes” you speak into his mouth.

his hands instinctively go around your waste when he remembers the ring. slowly pulling back, he takes your left hand in his, slipping the slightly too large ring onto your finger.

“i can get tommy to make it smaller” he says slightly breathless as you both stare down at your ring finger and its new accessory.

you wrap your arms around his neck and he pulls you into his lap leaving light kisses around your face. after a few seconds of soaking him in you pull back, wanting a good look at him.

“i love you” you take his hand and press it into your cheek.

“and i love you, sweet girl” his hand splays into your nape pulling you in for a quick kiss.

“you really okay with being stuck with me for the rest of your life? y’know that comes with ellie too” he jokes finding different spots on your face to trace with his fingers.

your eyes widen in excitement and you jump up, “oh my god come on! we have to get back and tell ellie!”

joel laughs and slowly makes his way onto his feet, knee pain and all. as the two of you collect the remnants of your [favorite] date, you chat joel’s ear off about how excit you are to tell ellie. joel's mostly silent, thanking whatever supernatural power that decided to bless him with the two most perfect girls.

[joel masterlist]

[tightjeansjavi]

⋆｡˚❆˚ ｡⋆ Tinsel ⋆｡˚❆˚ ｡⋆

A/N: all I gotta say is..WHEN IS IT MY TURN DAMMIT 🥲

joel deserves nice things™ ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

~word count: 4.9k~

pairing | boyfriend! Joel Miller x f! reader

Summary: it’s Christmas and we’re all in misery, but your Texas hunk of a boyfriend makes sure that this holiday season you feel loved.

Warnings: fluff, smut, angst, mommy issues for the reader, typical holiday angst, readers mother is a bitch, mentions of smoking and consuming alcohol, unprotected piv, dom/sub vibes, fingering, daddy kink, praise kink, orgasm denial, cock warming, light ass slapping, unconditional love, Sarah and Ellie exist in this universe (Ellie is adopted) best friend! Tommy, close family vibes, soft! Joel, protective! Joel, Tommy is like a big brother to the reader, reader has no physical descriptions, there is one scene where Joel picks the reader up, no age gap, Christmas traditions, +18, minors dni! Please let me know if I missed anything!

“Hey, babe?” You chimed from the living room. Both hands on your hips as you peered up at your beautifully decorated Christmas tree. “Do you think the tree could use some more tinsel?”

Your boyfriend, Joel Miller was in the kitchen with Sarah and Tommy who were on cookie duty, while Joel was crafting together the best goddamn gingerbread house your mother would ever see in her lifetime. (You hoped)

“Here she goes again with the tinsel.” Sarah giggled, gently nudging her uncle with her elbow.

Joel gave his daughter a playful warning glare before picking up a dusting of flour between his fingers and threw it at her with a grin. “Be nice, baby girl. Y’know how her mom is with this stuff. Everythin’ has gotta be perfect.”

“I’ll be there in just a sec, honey!” He called back, brushing his flour coated hands on his apron and retreated from the kitchen while Tommy and Sarah snickered.

“I still think we should add more tinsel, Joel. Maybe more ornaments? If she sees a single bald spot on the tree—” you’re caught off guard from bare, broad arms wrapping around your waist from behind. His aquiline nose brushes the exposed bit of skin along your neckline. He inhales deeply, smelling of cinnamon, clove, and ginger with a hint of Joel.

“Baby,” he rasps warm and deep, lips pressing to your warmed skin with affectionate sweetness. “The tree is gorgeous. I don’t see any bald spots.” A gentle squeeze to your hips, followed by another peck.

“But—” your voice falls short.

You melt back into his arms the way that marshmallows do in steaming hot chocolate. Pliant in his hold, suppressing a giggle when the scratchy bits of his patchy beard gently scrape your skin.

“But nothin’, baby. How about you help frost the cookies, hm? Get your mind off this damn tinsel.” You feel his lips curve into a smile along your skin. His chuckle vibrates up his chest and through your sweater covered spine. His hands drop from your hips, settling against the curve of your back, fingertips slipping into the denim pockets.

Cheeky.

A grumbled sigh from your lips, agreement, for the time being. The topic of tinsel would be brought up again. Your hand floated upwards towards his face, fingertips ghosting the patchy spots that you loved to press hidden kisses to. A finger hooks around his jaw, pulling him downwards to meet you in a kiss.

He obliges to your silent request. His nose brushes yours eliciting a sweet giggle to pass through your parted lips. The sounds of Santa Baby drowns out in the background. White noise compared to the steady thumping of yours and Joel’s synchronized hearts.

“I’ll be bringing up the tinsel again, Joel.” You murmur through the palpable warm tension.

“I know you will, darlin’” he tuts playfully, “But shh. Less talkin’, baby. Kiss me, doll.” He all but demands. The gap between you is closed. He kisses you sweetly, squeezing your flesh below the denim fabric. You swat playfully, melting once more when his tongue swipes your lower lip, testing—

“Ain’t hearin’ much talkin’ goin’ on in there!” Tommy remarks from the opening of the kitchen. Smirk plastered.

It’s Joel’s turn to grumble. A hint of annoyance on his breath. He breaks away from the kiss begrudgingly, but not before he can whisper just for your ears to hear, “we’ll finish this later.” Shortly followed by an encouraging pat to your jean clad ass, and a nudge towards the kitchen.

“These cookies ain’t gonna frost themselves!”

“Relax, brother. We’re coming!” Joel shoots you a wink with a suggestive tilt of his chin in your direction. The simple action alone sends a wave of arousal gushing through the thin fabric of your panties. A jolt, like a bolt of lighting.

4 years of dating your Texas hunk, and the sparks were still flying.

Sarah and Tommy both give you and Joel a cheeky little grin once you appear in the kitchen. An apron is tossed in your direction. Your eyes roll playfully with a shake of your head.

Joel returns to his gingerbread house making when you realizing that there’s one more member missing. “Is Ellie still asleep?” You ask while glancing at the clock along the wall.

“Must be. I’ll go and drag her out of bed.” Joel announced. He untied his apron and laid it flat across the table. He brushed past you on his way out of the kitchen.

Ellie Miller was in fact still dead asleep when he quietly pushed open her bedroom door. “Ohh Jelly Bean.” He cooed, using her least favorite nickname purposely.

A pillow was tossed carelessly in his direction with the intent to hit him, but Joel was ready for it and ducked out of the way. “C’mon, baby girl. It’s half past 10 and we could really use your help downstairs.” Joel said while reaching for the comforter to yank back.

“Can’t the cookies frost themselves? Y’know how I feel about the holidays, Dad.” She grumbled with her face squished into her pillow.

“Mhm. I sure do. Just a buncha commercialized crap around a jolly big ole’ fat man that breaks into people's houses, steals their cookies, and leaves crap under the tree. The only cool part of Santa Claus is his reindeer.” Joel said monotonically.

“You’re forgetting the bit where Rudolph is the coolest because of—”

“His bright shinin’ red nose. See, I remember these things, kiddo. Now, please get on up and help us out. If you don’t wanna frost the cookies, then you can help me finish with the gingerbread houses. Fair deal?” Joel crossed his arms against his chest while he awaited her response.

Ellie let out a long, dramatic sigh before she slowly pulled herself up into a sitting position. “Yeah, yeah. Okay. I’ll come down and help out.” She grumbled.

“Thank you, grinchy.” He said teasingly while she shot him a playful glare. “There’s coffee downstairs too, if ya want any.”

Her nose turned upwards as she let out a disgusted sound. “Gross. Y’know how I feel about that stuff. It’s nasty. Smells like burnt shit. Don’t know how you drink that crap.” She grimaced.

“Hot chocolate?” He suggested with a warm grin.

“Now we’re talkin.’” She grinned.

Once the cookies were properly frosted, and the two gingerbread houses were fashioned, it was time for a well deserved break. Tommy volunteered to take Sarah and Ellie out sledding and then lunch while Joel stayed back to help you clean the kitchen.

Your boyfriend had his own idea of ‘cleaning’ and taking a break. You had just started the dishes when you felt his warm presence envelop and invade your senses. His strong arms were wrapped around you once more, and the tip of his broad nose was pressed into your neck, curls tickling your cheekbones.

“Have you come to help me with washing duty, baby?” You asked softly when his lips pressed an opened mouth kiss to your exposed skin. You learned very quickly early on in your relationship that Joel Miller was a lover, and a giver. He always needed to be close to you in some way.

“Mhm. I have, honey. But, I was hopin’ I could make you feel good first. I think the dishes can wait. Don’t you?” He nuzzled against you, thumbs slipping through the front pockets of your jeans.

“Joel..” you warned.

“Please, baby. I know the holiday season gets you all wound up. Let me help you relax, and then I will do the dishes and finish cleaning up here. Afterwards, you and I can settle in for a well deserved nap. How’s that sound?”

How did you get so lucky?

“You’re so good to me, baby. I suppose we can—” your words become lodged in your throat when his teeth graze your delicate skin. He nibbles playfully, knowing just how to get his girl going. His fingers toy with the button on your jeans before he pops it open.

“You’re my girl, ain’t ya? I live for makin’ you happy and feelin’ good. I love you very much, darlin.’ And I’ll be damned if this time of the year beats you down again.” He whispers while pulling down the zipper swiftly. His unoccupied hand slips under your sweater where he can feel your stomach clench inwards, the quickness of your breath while he splays his long, rugged fingers across your skin.

(If you ain’t dating a proper cowboy yet, then what the hell are you doin?’)

You allow yourself to indulge and melt into his grasp when his hand slips beneath the confines of your jeans, and below your panties. His broad fingers stroke gently between your folds, gathering up the slickness that has pooled there from this morning’s earlier interaction.

“Talkin’ of tinsel really gotcha goin,’ huh baby? Or was it the way that your handsome boyfriend was talkin’ to ya? Is that what got your pretty little pussy drippin?’” He purrs and your knees nearly buckle. Your Joel has never been shied away from dirty talk, and he knows how much you love it when filth drips from between his perfect lips.

You laugh, and it’s music to his ears whenever you let your guard down around him. Your head falls back ceremoniously against his shoulder, admiring his side profile through fluttered lashes. “It definitely wasn’t the damn tinsel, that’s for sure.”

“Thought so.” He mused with a rumbling deep chuckle. He’s acutely aware of your budding desperation taking the front and center stage when your hips buck upwards into his palm. “Someone’s a bit eager, hm? Want me to stretch this pretty pussy apart with my fingers, baby? S’that what my sweet girl wants?”

“Mhmm.” Is really all you’re able to get out because your mind is swirling, intoxicated with your boyfriend, and his goddamn hands that know how to play you to ruin. A flush rises to your cheeks, skin burning red hot like embers in a fire when his lips ghost the shell of your ear, sending a warm chill down every vertebrae in your spine.

“Can’t hear ya, honeybun. Gonna need ya to speak up for me.” His fingers dip down lower, teasing your tight wet hole that pulses around nothing, feeling empty and neglected thus far. His teeth bite down on your lobe, tugging it down playfully and elicit a desperate little mewl to slip past your lips.

“Fingers, daddy. Now. Please.” Your requests come out scrambled, misconstrued, but audible nonetheless. He seems pleased enough with your response and slowly sinks in two of his thick digits; ring and middle knuckle deep inside of your pulsing cunt. His hand encasing your entire mound while his thumb finds your clit with ease, curling his fingers inwards in a ‘come hither’ motion.

“Fuuck.” You moaned, wanton, depraved, love drunk on your Texas hunk.

His non-dominant hand that was presently resting along your stomach drops down. It takes him all of 5 seconds to tug your jeans down over your ass and thighs, exposing your bare skin to the room temperature air. His hand massages your supple flesh, curving against your spine before pulling back and returning with one firm smack to your left cheek that echoes through the expanse of the kitchen. “‘Atta girl.” He praises you lovingly, massaging the irritated skin before he delivers another smack, harder this time. It’s just enough to send you jolting forward into his hand, crying out his name.

The muscles in his bicep flex under the natural light flooding in through the kitchen windows. His fingers pump in and out, in and out. The mixed sounds of your pleasure, and your cunt squelching around his fingers sends blood flowing southwards to his hardening cock. You feel the press of him against your lower back when you reach around, fingers blindly searching till they find their home against the bulge in his jeans.

He grunts, lower lip taken harshly between his teeth, the speed of his wrist movements increase when you stroke him through the tight confines. You can feel all of him through the fabric, and you’re prideful that his desperately hard cock is just for you.

“Gonna fuck yourself against my fingers, baby? Gonna use me to get yourself off?” He questions hastily, breath shuddering when he finds himself grinding his hips in your hand with a need to satiate the building friction.

“Yes, daddy.” You whimper, mouth falling open in an ‘o’ shape when his fingers kiss that spongy spot that has you seeing stars. You’re so close, nearly at the edge when his fingers slip out, leaving you abandoned before his bending down and hoisting you over his shoulder like a rag doll.

His steps are calculated and precise carrying you up the stairs to your shared bedroom. He tosses you on the bed in a playful manner, lips finding yours in a chaste kiss while his hands tug your jeans down completely, followed by your panties. “Couldn’t wait any longer to be inside ya, baby” his words fall like whispers against your lips. You reach for his belt, undoing it with that sweet giggle that he loves so much.

He licks into your mouth like a man starved when you finally release him from his confines. His cock springs free, slapping against his stomach. His lips detach, a string of saliva connecting you to him before he plops down beside you on his back.

“We don’t even need to fuck, honey. Jus’ wanna be inside ya. Take a nap with my cock keepin’ you stuffed full.” He’s vulgar, greedy when he reaches for you. You melt like putty, sticky and sweet, and dripping.

“I love keeping your cock warm, daddy. Almost as much as I love it when you send me to a new dimension.” You murmur, settling against his chest. Your hand reaches down between your bodies, grasping his length and guiding it to your opening. A combined sweet sigh when he eases himself inside of you.

“So fuckin’ perfect for me. Warm, wet, huggin’ me s’tight.” He sounds drunk now too. His grin is lazily, placid when your eyes meet in a loving gaze. His hips shift beneath you, bottoming out, filling, stretching, while you pull him in.

His chin dips down, capturing your lips once more. It’s probably one of his favorite things to do, kissing you. Lips that he believes were made for him. A peck to your nose follows, teeth nibbling, giggles, sweet sounds.

“Joel?” You ask through the domestic calmness that shelters you both.

“Mhmm?” He rumbles, words rolling slowly against his tongue.

“I love you.”

His arms shift to wrap around you, holding you close. Heartbeats entwined. “I love you too, baby doll. And no matter what happens this Christmas, you’re perfect to me. No matter what your mother thinks, or says, you’re perfect.”

“Did you knit these ghastly things yourself?” Your mother criticizes the sweaters you knitted for yourself, Joel, Tommy, Ellie, and Sarah. It was your first big knitting project. A daunting task at first, but the old ladies at the senior center you volunteered at were both charming, and helpful.

“Yes, mother. I knitted them myself.” Her words hurt, but that’s what champagne spritzers are for. You take a hefty sip from your champagne flute.

“Well, the pattern is all wrong, dear.” She drops the sleeve of your sweater with a sigh. “Your home looks lovely, by the way, but your tree could use more tinsel. I noticed five bald spots when I first walked in.” She has no idea how many hours you spent decorating the tree in the living room, the mantles, outside in the front yard. You worked tirelessly with your family, and she still had the audacity to say something negative about it.

You fake a smile, catching a glance from your Texas hunk who is preoccupied in the kitchen with making sure that dinner is absolutely perfect.

“Thank you for the compliment, mother. Can I get you more champagne?” You ask, hoping that you can just take a breather finally.

“Oh, thank you dear, that would be lovely. Where’s that boyfriend of yours, Joe?” She waved her wrist carelessly, bracelets chiming in your ears. Even after four years, your mother still didn’t call your boyfriend by his real name.

“His name is Joel, mother. And he’s in the kitchen with his brother who is helping him with dinner.” You respond flatly.

“Joe. Joel, what’s the difference?” She doesn’t get it. She never does, and never will.

“Mother, it’s rude. He’s my boyfriend of almost five years, and you can’t even bother to remember his name?” You’re on the edge of snapping. It's not fair that your mother thinks that just because her husband divorced her that she gets to make everyone close to her miserable too.

“He’s still your boyfriend? Well, by now I surely would think that you’d be engaged and married. Who in their right mind plays house with a man for almost five years? Dear, have I taught you nothing?”

Tears prick the corner of your eyes from the blow of her words. You and Joel never felt like you needed to get married. It was just a piece of paper, shared finances, social status that neither of you cared for. You loved each other, you loved Sarah and Ellie, and viewed Tommy like a brother. Wasn’t that enough?

“Excuse me, mother, while I go top off your glass.”

She doesn’t see the glassy look in your eyes when you snatch the flute from her. Your footsteps carry you directly to the kitchen. For a brief moment you think about tossing the glass into the sink and letting the crystal shatter, but you opt to set it down on the counter.

Joel and Tommy are watching you closely from a distance. You’re visibly upset, and no fake smile can hide that.

I just need a breather.

The air is chilly, and the sky is clear with twinkling stars. Your tears glisten under the Christmas lights hanging above the front step when you hear the front door open and close. You move quickly to douse out the lit cigarette that is pursed between your painted lips, feeling a twinge of shame from a habit you couldn’t quite break.

“You don’t gotta hide that on my account, sweetheart.” Tommy said softly with his hands shoved in his jean pockets.

“I just..needed something to take the edge off.” You know that there’s no reason to explain yourself to him, or anyone for that matter. Tommy’s been your best friend for years, and he was the one that introduced you to Joel in the first place.

“I get it. Family can be real assholes sometimes, huh? It’s like that one scene in National Lampoon’s where the wife says, “it’s Christmas and we’re all in misery.” He chuckles.

“Yeah, and the misery is my mother.” You scoff and offer him your cigarette.

“Ah. What did she have to say this time around?” He asks while taking the cigarette between your fingers and bringing it against his lips.

“What didn’t she have to say?” You stifled a bitter laugh. “Five bald spots on the tree. The sweaters I knitted are ghastly, and she refuses to call Joel by his real name. Oh, and the cherry on top? She thinks I’m naive for ‘playing house with a man who isn’t even my husband.’”

“Bald spots? Where? The sweaters you made us are adorable, and what a bitch. I swear, that woman grows more callous every year. Who cares if you and Joel aren’t married? What’s it any of her business to do in your private life? You’re happy, aren’t you? She’s jus’ bein’ bitter cus’ you got a man that loves you unconditionally, and her husband left her.” Tommy finishes off what is left of the cigarette before he douses it out with the toe of his boot.

More tears begin to freely fall when you begin to fold in on yourself. “I love that man so fucking much, Tommy. He makes me so unbelievably happy and I just wish she could support me. To be my mother for once in her goddamn life and not this jealous..entity.” You sniffled.

“Oh, honey, it’s Christmas time and tears are not allowed!” Tommy attempted to joke, but when he saw just how upset you were, he switched gears and wrapped you up in his arms. “She’ll never understand, unfortunately. But that’s her loss. She could be real happy for you, and Joel, if she wanted to. But jealous people miss out on those happy moments I’m afraid. She refuses to be happy, and that ain’t have anythin’ to do with you, sweet pea.” He reassured you.

What Tommy really wanted to tell you, but couldn’t say, was that soon enough he’d be your brother in law, and your Texas hunk was going to ask you to marry him, to be his wife, at the stroke of midnight tonight when all the guests would retire home.

“You’re right, Tommy. You’re absolutely right. She’s choosing to be unhappy for me. That’s her choice, not mine. And you know what? Fuck her. She doesn’t get to hold this over me. I’m happy, and I refuse to let her ruin that for me.” You hug him back tightly.

“‘Atta girl. Now, let’s get back inside before my brother starts worryin’ more than he already has. I’ll entertain your mother so that you can have a break. How’s that sound?”

“Really? You’ll do that for me? Thank you, Tommy. I appreciate it.”

“Anytime, sweetheart. I’ll get her all liquored up.” He jokes with a playful wink.

Your lips peck his cheek in a non-romantic gesture. Tommy has always been your rock.

Dinner surprisingly runs smoothly, and you no longer have to deal with your mother because Tommy is talking up a storm with her, and she actually..smiles? Maybe it was just the champs.

Your Texas hunk is seated beside you with his hand resting along your thigh underneath the table. His thumb is rubbing reassuring circles against the silky fabric of your tights. He checks in with you between bites, silent glances, softened eyes. God, you loved this man.

Ellie, Sarah, and Joel helped you with the dishes while Tommy drove your cousin home. He had a crush on her for years, and finally grew a pair to make it known. Your mom, thankfully, went home with your aunts.

It was nearing midnight when Joel returned from upstairs after saying goodnight to the girls and wishing them sweet dreams. He found you curled up in the loveseat next to the fireplace, deep in thought with a half drunk glass of wine resting alongside the table. The rim of the glass was coated in a residue of your lipstick that had long since rubbed off.

“Is there room for me there?” He gestured to the loveseat with a small grin.

Your eyes met his in a soft gaze, and a subtle nod. And when you start to rise from the cushion, he stops you and instead lifts your thighs up gently before scooting in behind you so you’re draped across his lap comfortably.

“Are the girls asleep?” You ask as his hand rests around your hip.

“Mhm. Jus’ you and me, baby.” He replies with a swipe of his lips against your forehead. “Is everythin’ okay? You looked upset earlier..”

“Oh.” You sigh. “Yeah, everything is okay, Joel. It's just the holidays, and my mother, but I’m okay.” You reassure him while your hand drifts up towards the back of his head, threading your fingers through his hair with your nails gently scratching his scalp.

“Yeah, I reckon she had some shit to say? I’m sorry, baby doll. But remember what I said earlier? You’re perfect to me no matter what your mother thinks or says.” He murmured. His hand that wasn’t resting along your hip reaches up, his thumb brushes across your chin, eyes boring into yours with sincerity and pure love.

“I just..I hate her sometimes, and I know I shouldn’t because she’s my mother, but she’s a bitter woman, and I don’t want her in my life anymore, Joel. Not when she’s like this.” You nearly croak, and his face falls. His lips curved downwards into a deep set frown. He senses your tears before they even begin to fall.

“Hey, just because she’s your mother, doesn’t mean that she has a right to be in your life, baby. It’s your life, and you get to decide who you want to be a part of it.” He can feel the weight of the small box growing heavy in his pocket. “Darlin’, I love you, and I just want my girl to be happy.” He confessed.

“You’re right. It's my life and I get to make those choices, not her. I’m sorry, baby. I don’t mean to—”

He shushes you softly. His thumb gently presses down against your lower lip before he steals a quick kiss to reassure you, and himself. “Hey, you ain’t got nothin’ to be sorry for. You’re perfect. You’re amazing. Could give less of a fuck what your bitter mother has to say about it. I love you for you, and ain’t nothin’ gonna change that.”

He pauses, swallowing the lump that is growing in his throat. He releases your hip gently before reaching into his pocket. “I know I shoulda asked you this question a long time ago, but I had to be sure that..it was perfect. All my life I’ve found myself bein’ a hopeless romantic. Always giving, never receivin’ the same kinda love I put out there. Never thought that one person could make a man’s heart feel so full, so complete till I met you. Now, you know I ain’t one for cliches, but I love you with everything my heart has to offer, and I want nothin’ more than to spend the rest of my life with you, my beautiful, sweet, unconditionally lovin’, girl.”

“Joel..are you—oh my god.” You’re in disbelief, heart thumping rapidly out of your chest when he pulls out a small, forest green velvet encased box.

“I ain’t finished yet, darlin.’” He tuts playfully. “So, will you do me the honors of becoming my wife? And as your husband, I promise to never stop lovin’ you, t’never stop supportin’ you, no matter what life throws our way?” His eyes are glassy with freshly brewed tears. He doesn’t even have the chance to open the box and reveal the ring to you before you’re throwing your arms around his neck, nearly knocking the wind from his lungs from how tightly you’re hugging him.

“Yes! Yes, I’ll marry you! Oh my god, a million times, yes!” You’re so happy you can barely contain it.

“Dontcha wanna see the ring?” He laughed warmly, wrapping his arms around you. “Ellie and Sarah helped me pick it out.”

“Aren’t you supposed to get down on one knee and all that?” You ask teasingly while you pull back from the hug and hold out your left hand.

“Oh, shit! You’re right! I’m doin’ this all wrong.” He chuckled with a shake of his head.

“No, fuck the tradition. Let’s do it our way.” You suggest and he smiles brightly, dimples peeking through. You open the box together revealing the dainty ring that had you written all over the design. An oval shaped diamond in the center, a shiny gold band, and two smaller diamonds on either side.

“It’s beautiful, Joel. You and the girls have impeccable taste.” Your heart swells when his lips press to your ring finger before he carefully slips the ring into place.

“It’s beautiful, but it doesn’t compare to the woman who’s wearing it.” He comments thoughtfully while your hands come to rest along his cheeks. His face is held tenderly while I love you’s are whispered only for yours and his ears. It’s not long before you're chasing one another’s lips. He kisses you with the same amount of passion every single time.

“Keep the sweater on, baby.” You request between kisses while his hands make quick work of tearing your thin tights open for easy access.

“I’ll buy ya a million pairs. Jus’ wanna make love to my future wife fireside without any obstructions.” His hands rest upon either side of your hips when you straddle his lap.

“And I want my future husband to sit back and watch his future wife ride his cock.” You finalize your words with a searing kiss while your fingers work open the button on his jeans. You push the material down just enough that you can pull his cock free.

“M’so fuckin’ lucky. God, I am so lucky. All my life I’ve been waitin’ for someone like you, baby.” He grunts lovingly, unconditionally when you finally sink down around him. “I can’t fuckin’ wait to grow old with you.”

Your hips roll slowly against his while he pulls you in with gentle hands. There’s no teeth clashing, or skin slapping. It’s just good ole fashioned love making by the fire. Just you and your Texas hunk.

Merry Christmas, Mr. Miller. You’re the only man in this world that deserves my heart.

banners made by the lovely @saradika 🤍

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[alloftheimagines]

joel miller drabble | bubble bath

words: 270 warnings: fluff, utter brain rot

I can’t stop thinking about what it would be like for reader and joel to take their first bath together. after months of trekking through all weathers, fighting like hell to stay alive, you reach jackson and there, in your new borrowed house, is a tiny bathtub. of course, joel would never be so brave as to ask if he could join you, but you are, you do, so you sink into the hot water together and it feels like a dream. he can’t remember the last time he felt so safe. you'd talked about baths before, how much you miss them, whereas he couldn't care less. he washed to get the job done, not sit and marinate for hours on end.

but it's perfect now. now, he understands.

you rest against him, your back against his chest, his legs bracketing yours like he's still, somehow, trying to guard you. he's mesmerised by the bubbles shimmering and melting on your scarred skin. he's afraid this must be another dream, one that will be taken from him like every good thing he’s ever known, and yet it isn’t. time stands still here in this tiny bathroom. your fingertips feather over his bruised knuckles as you hum contentedly. he spends the whole time struggling with his guilt, like maybe he should be doing something somewhere: fighting like he always has. so he distracts himself by lathering soap over your body and massaging shampoo into your hair, because nobody, not even his own damn conscience, will take this from him. funny how you still smell like you, even after. thank god you do. 

his arms grow tighter around your stomach and slowly your lids grow heavy, your breathing steadier than it’s been in months. you murmur about how good this feels, and he kisses the nape of your neck in response, because there are no words he can say to really do this moment justice. but you feel it. fuck, do you feel it.  

[pascalluvur]

𝒜𝒸𝒽𝒾𝓃’

summary: Joel reluctantly helps elevate the ache between your legs.

warnings: Tent sex, MDMI, tiny bit of mean!joel, guided masturbation, fingering, PiV sex, overstimulation, dacryphilia, virginity loss, praise kink, slight oral (m receiving, one daddy mention, mutual orgasms and age gap (50s/20s)

setting: Tent on the way to Wyoming.

pov: 2nd person.

wc: 3.6k

masterlist

The tent is small. Barely enough room for both you and Joel, but it’s warm with both your breaths and the shitty sleeping bags that you both looted from Bill and Franks. Outside the world is dark, thick and quiet-but not eerily so. The trees are alive and you can hear them creak gently as they sway in the light wind. There’s only one problem. The ache between your legs.

It started earlier in the car, before you both decided to stop here for the night and that was five fucking hours ago. It started with a soft pulse between your thighs, but grew to your untouched cunt clenching everytime you looked at Joel or if he muttered something vague in that Texas drawl. Your nipples were hardened underneath your bra and everything felt hot. Your skin was flushed. Joel even asked you if you were okay at one point, and Joel never asks that.

You didn’t know what it was- well yeah, you did. You were twenty-two, not stupid. You just hadn’t ever felt this needy before. You didn’t understand what brought it on. Sure you’d felt this way before back when you were living in your dingy apartment in Boston, but the world was so dark and unsafe that you never took care of it. But it was never this intense. You were facing Joel, laying on your side. He was on his side too but facing the other way like he always did. There was probably a couple inches between you considering how small the tent was and that just made your situation even worse. Joel wasn’t much of a talker. You had known him for five months now and he’s saved your ass more times than you can count. He was initially supposed to be taking you to Salem to meet with the fireflies, but things didn’t exactly go to plan so now you were both heading for Wyoming to see Joel’s brother, an ex-firefly who may know where they are. He was pretty closed off and probably would prefer not to listen to your yapping, but you both formed some sort of a bond over the last couple months. And to be honest, you don’t know what you’d do without him.

His broad shoulders moved a little with each breath he took, but you could tell he wasn’t sleeping. Five months on the road together meant you could practically read him like a book. The ache between your thighs was almost unbearable now. You did try and elevate the ache with your hand earlier when Joel turned around, but every time it started to feel good, it slipped away and just made you even more frustrated. You couldn’t take it anymore.

“Joel?” you whispered. He didn’t answer but his shoulders tensed a little at your voice. You knew he was awake and probably just pretending he was asleep so he didn’t have to listen to you nagging him.

“Joel,” you said again, not in a whisper anymore.

“What?” he snapped out. Not bothering to turn around. Normally, the snap in his voice would make you wince, but right now you just needed someone to help you out.“I.. i don’t feel good.”

You don’t feel good? What the fuck did you say that for. God, you shouldn’t have opened your mouth at all in the first place. You were going to sound so goddamn stupid.

He turned around at that, rolling onto his other side to face you. It was too dark in the tent to his face, but you could see the curve of his jaw and the bump of his noise.

God, this man was so sexy right now.

He leaned over and switched on the battery powered lantern to see you better. He actually looked concerned. Fuck, you shouldn’t have said that. He’s probably gonna think you’re infected or something.

“What d’ya mean ya don’t feel good?”

“Uh..” you paused. What were you meant to say now? Oh yeah Joel, I am so fucking horny right now, can you fuck me to make me feel better? God, this was humiliating.

He sat up in his sleeping bag and twisted his body to watch you properly. “What kid? Spit it out, some of us actually wanna sleep tonight.”“I just feel weird- like my body- uhm.. between my legs.”

He was quiet for a beat, looking at you like his brain couldn’t register that you actually said that to him. His hand came up to his face and ran down it exhaustively.

You chewed on your bottom lip, afraid to say anything in case you made this incredibly embarrassing situation any worse. You just sat up and brought your knees to your chest, tucking them under your chin, pressing them together for obvious reasons.

“Christ,” he muttered. “Why’r ya tellin’ me this, for god sakes.” Your cheeks burned and you refused his gaze. God, you felt like a stupid kid. This was humiliating.

“Just.. thought you could help me..”

“Jesus..” he said, switching the lantern off and laying back down. He turned over on his side, facing away from you once again. But, this time he scooted further away from you, as if you’d pounce on him if he was any closer to you.

You felt humiliated. If a clicker came along right now, you would gladly hand yourself to it. But still, as if the embarrassment wasn’t enough, your panties were still damp and your clit pretty much had a heartbeat of its own. You squirmed around in the sleeping bag, trying to find a position that was more comfortable in your.. situation, but nothing worked. Before you could stop yourself, a soft whimper escaped your mouth from frustration of how badly you ached. Joel stilled and so did you.

“What the fuck was that?” He said, turning over again, his voice etched with frustration that made your cheeks once again, burn. You opened your mouth and tried to find the words to respond that didn’t make you look like a complete fool. “I uhm..”

“Listen, I ain’t your fuckin’ boyfriend. You’re cargo. I didn’t take you to show you how to finger yourself. Either get out of tent and get yourself off, or go to sleep.”

If you were feeling any other way, his harshness would probably make your throat tighten. But right now, the way he was speaking to you made you want him to do unholy things to you. You stomach fluttered and you clenched around nothing. This was pathetic.

“I just- please Joel, I don’t know what else to do, I can’t just.. get myself off, I don’t know how.” You whined.

“You’re- what? Jesus girl, your twenty somethin’ years- anyway, doesn’t matter it ain’t my problem. You’re a big girl, figure it out.” He barked. You could hear his sleeping back rustle as he brought it up higher over him, as if to shield himself from this conversation.

“Joel, please! It aches, it has all day. I promise I won’t ask for anything else- you don’t even have to touch me-just tell me how and then we can go to sleep I promise.” You babbled out sitting up and crawling over to the lantern to turn it on. You sat back on your hunches, watching Joel squint from the sudden invasion of his eyes.

“Fuck- fine, fine! But this ain’t gonna be a..” he gestured between you both. “-a thing, between us. I’ll help ya with this but that’s it then, no more.” He said settling on his back and running both hands over his face.

Your eye’s widened. Sure you wanted this, but you didn’t expect him to actually agree. “Yeah- yeah I promise, just this once I swear.”

He huffed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Alright then uh- lay back down and take your pants off.” He said, keeping his gaze at the roof of the tent. You lay back against the sleeping bag and took your jeans and soaked-through panties off with the kind of urgency that would be embarrassing if you weren’t so fucking turned on. You settled back comfortably on your back and tried to control your breating, your heart thrumming in your ears. “Okay, open your legs and dip your middle finger through your slit- bring it to your clit.”

A confused expression formed on your face and you turned your face toward him, questioning without speaking. “‘S a lil bump at the top, it’ll make ya feel good.” He said, closing his eyes as if that will make this highly inappropriate situation with a girl young enough to be his daughter any better. You did as he said, dipping your middle finger through your folds and coating them in your slick. You let out a shuddering breath as you dragged it up to that bundle of untouched nerves at the top of your slit. “Okay-,” you said, waiting for your next instruction.

“Then, start circling it, nice n slow. Put a little pressure down on it.” He said, but now with a slight rasp in his voice. You twisted your head a little to get a look at him. He was shuffling around a little in the sleeping bag, adjusting himself. Was he getting off on this?

You, nonetheless did as he told you. You pressed down slightly on your clit, eliciting a gasp from you. You gave yourself a second to get used to it before starting to circle, nice and slow just like Joel instructed.

Your fingers moved clumsily at first, but you eventually got the hang of it. Your hips bucked up uncontrollably into your hand, seeking more friction as you squeezed your eyes shut.

“Joel,” you whimpered.

“What is it? It hurt?” He said in a surprisingly soft coo-like rasp. But there was still an under lying annoyance. It made your body heat up and your lips part in another moan.

“A little, but feels good.”

He nodded. “S’okay, just the build. You’re doin’ fine.”

You cried out suddenly, your pace on your clit quickening rapidly, causing more arousal to drip from your weeping hole.

“F-fuck..”

“Yeah?” He mumbled.

“Ye-ah, gonna come..”

Joel face screwed up, his composure slipping away. The way you bucked your hips up, the way you called his name and the noises, fuck the noises.. it was too much. The voice in his head was screaming at him to control himself, but his throbbing cock had other plans. He shot up from his position, ignoring the ache in his back when he did.

You stilled your movements when he did, your hand trembling slightly. Your voice came out breathless and desperate. “What are you-,”

His body was over you before you could finish your sentence, pressing sloppy kisses to your mouth, his hand cradling your cheek. You quickly responded to his kisses, a whine clawing out of your parred lips. Your hands moved up to his neck, cupping it softly, your thumbs running over the patches of hair there.

He broke the kiss, but didn’t go far. His face hovered over yours and his uneven breath fanned over your face. “I need to know you’re sure you want this baby- eyes up here,” he said gripping your chin and forcing you to look him in his eyes. “I need you to use your words for me.”

You nodded, looking between his two eyes rapidly. “I want it-please- can’t wait any longer.”

That was all he needed.

He worked his flannel off, undoing each button eagerly and pushing it off his shoulders. You thought it was only fair you took off your shirt too, so you sat up a little and took your Henley top off, tossing it aside and unclasping your bra. By the time you were done, Joel’s cock was already out, the tip red and angry. It was your first time ever seeing a penis. You grew up an orphan in the QZ and were thrown out to fend for yourself by the time you were eighteen. You never got involved with anyone, too dangerous so it wasn’t like you had ever seen a real one except from a diagram when you were learning about penis anatomy in biology class. It was daunting to look at to say the least.

He was at least seven inches, heavy balls with a patch of dark hair around his cock and sack. You bit down on your lip and before your could stop yourself, your hand wrapped around the base. Joel groaned, dropping his head down to your forehead.

“Fuck baby girl, such a sweet girl.” He mumbled.

“Can you tell me what to do?” You whispered. Your voice would probably be incoherent if you both weren’t so close.

“You don’t have-,”

“But I want to.”

Joel froze, then leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead. “Okay. Bring your hand to your mouth and get it nice ‘n wet.”

Your eyes dilated, your lip caught between your teeth. You brought your hand up to your mouth and gathered some saliva in your mouth, letting it drop down into your hand.

“Juustt like that baby, now just squeeze a little, stroke up and down.”

You nodded your head and brought your spit-slick hand back down to his cock and wrapped it around his shaft. You gave his cock a small, gentle squeeze as you stroked it once. A rumbling groan from Joel’s chest spurred you on, so you continued.

Joel’s hand covered yours, guiding your movements as his eyes fluttered closed. “Ah-fuck.. just like that honey, jerk my cock.”

Your lungs punched out a moan. Seeing him getting off like this was making your pussy drip like a goddamn faucet. Watching Joel’s face contort in pleasure was definitely something you never wanted to forget. The feeling of the soft skin of his hard cock in your hand felt better than any sex could.

He abruptly moved your hand off him and cupped your cheeks. His lips came to yours in a desperate kiss, firmer this time. His thumb stroked the apple of your cheek while you both kissed. “You haven’t done this before?” He mumbled against your lips.

You pulled back and shook your head. “No.. but I’m ready.” You said, breathlessly, hands clinging to his biceps. You could see slight hesitation in his expression, but nonetheless, his hand trailed down to your pussy, lightly testing the waters. His middle finger pressed down on your quivering hole, checking to see how ready you were.

“Fuck baby girl, she’s just cryin’ f’me ain’t she? Just needs some lovin’,”

“Mhm.. needs you..”

“Yeah well, we gotta get her ready first, don’t wanna hurt ya honey. Gonna just use my fingers first and then I’ll give ya the real thing, promise.”

“Okay.” You breathed out.

Joel eased his fingers into your untouched hole, but got two in easily from how soaked you were all day. At first it felt a little strange- not painful just.. foreign. But as soon as he was knuckles deep, curling them up with his thumb on your clit, pleasure easily started taking over. At first, an overwhelmed moan left your mouth, but Joel quickly soothed you with his words and gentle kisses on your face.

“That’s it baby, just breath through it.”

“Doin’ so well baby.”

“Just feel it honey, feel my fingers hittin’ that little spot.”

Overstimulated and aching for release, you cried out his name, clinging to his biceps as you bucked your hips up into his hand. “Yes, yes- thank you j-oel- ah!” The coil in your belly was building rapidly and intensified with every thrust of his fingers pressing against your g-spot and every circle on your clit.

“Come on baby, give it to me. You gonna make a mess for me?” He rumbled into your ear. You were so fucked out that you could barely concentrate on what he was saying. Before you knew it, you were crying out, tears streaming down your face as you experienced your first orgasm. Your pussy rippled and clenched around Joel’s fingers as you collapsed into the sleeping bag. Chest heaving.

“There you go baby. Did so well.” He cooed, lips trailing from your neck down to your breast. Joel caught a peak in his mouth and sucked gently on it. The feeling caught you off guard, who knew someone sucking on your nipple could feel so good. You could feel a drop of arousal dribble out of your overstimmed hole. “Joel..” you called, hands in his hair.

“Mmm? Can you handle more? You don’t gotta do nothin’ you’re not comfortable with sweet girl.”

“No-no I want it-please Joel.” You responded eagerly. The thought of him not being inside you in the next two minutes made you crazy. A rare smirk formed on Joel’s face as he leaned down to kiss you gently.

“I know that’s right.” He mumbled, lips brushing yours gently as he gripped his cock in one hand. The tip of him brushed your clit, making you shiver.

Joel’s voice was gentle as he pushed inside, his fat tip stretching you deliciously. The feeling was overwhelming to say the least, but you felt that you would die if he stopped. He distracted you from the burn with sweet kisses and before you knew it, he was balls deep. When the realisation hit you, you cried out, dropping your head back against your pack in which you were using as a pillow. It was so much better than his fingers. Joel groaned pressing his face into your neck as he started to thrust in and out.

The thrusts were slow, more of a grind than anything, but he was so deep his tip kissing that spot so well. Your hands scrambled around his neck, pulling his chest flush to yours.

“Feel so.. full Joel.”

“That’s right honey. Stuffed up huh?”

At that he pulled back, looking at where you were both joined. Watching how he stretched you. “Ohhh biiig stretch baby. ‘M so proud of you.”

“I love being stretched for you.. so much joel.” You said, a sob escaping your plush lips as he thrusted in deeply.

Something snapped in Joel when you said it. Whatever it was, it made him throw his head back, both hands gripping your belly as he picked up the pace just slightly.

“Ohhh.. baby girl.” He groaned out head now falling forward. With each thrust a bulge formed in your belly. It caused Joel to use one of his hands to trace the outline of him.

“You feel me right there honey? Feel how perfect we fit?” He said, other hand travelling down your belly to your clit and circling it.

That was it.

In a matter of seconds you were falling apart, thighs shaking, tent filling with the sounds of your sobs and cries. White flashes clouded your vision and with one big clench, you soaked his cock.

This seemed to push joel over the edge because he was now not just grunting and groaning, but moaning your name. The feeling was euphoric. Joel pulled out, his hand reaching for his cock to finish on your belly. Before his hand could wrap around you grabbed his hand, pushing it away.

“What-,”

Before he could finish, you had him rolled over. You were straddling his lap with a dizzy head from the orgasm you literally just had. You crawled down his body and settled between his legs. It’s not like you exactly knew what you were doing, but all you knew was that you wanted to give him the same attention he gave you.

“Oh baby..” he said in more of a whine than anything. “You don’t gotta do that honey, you’re exhausted.”

“Please let me.” You said softly, puppy dog eyes looking directly up at joel as you held his member in your hand and kitten licked it, eliciting a groan from him. “Please daddy.”

That was it, joel pushed your head down, not hard, just hard enough that your mouth wrapped around his cock. His hips stuttered and he came in your mouth. All from hearing you call him daddy. Thick ropes of cum coated your tongue, your taste buds memorising the taste of him. Joel’s head thumped back as he came, an: “ohhh,” sound coming out of his parted lips.

You had a feeling this wasn’t going to be a one time thing.

[alexsoenomel]

Random Joel Miller Headcanons:

Joel was an early bird, always had been, so naturally he would wake up before you to make breakfast and coffee.

He liked taking care of you. He was a man of a few words; didn't say much, but his actions spoke louder than words.

He liked when you would play with his hair whenever he couldn't sleep and you liked the way his soft gray locks felt between your fingers.

He was not the one to tell you what to do, but he would sometimes get very protective, like a guard dog, to the point where he would forget you were in fact an adult. He would try to control you, tell you what you can and can't do, but it never worked with you. It would always end with you telling him to fuck off.

Joel loved teaching you how to play guitar. He loved watching you as you would get lost and bit your lower lip as you tried to play a simple note. He thought you were cute whenever you would get frustrated.

Bickering, lots and lots of bickering. He was twice your age and you enjoyed reminding him of that.

"Not bad for a man in his 70s," you told him once, panting and covered in sweat after multiple orgasms he gave you.

"I'm 56, dumbass," he told you, trying to catch his breath.

"Perv," you teased.

"Oh, fuck off."

He would wake up in the morning because of you, he would try to live and not just survive because of you. Everything he would now do, he would do it because of you.

You loved to snuggle with him, especially during winter, because that man was a walking, taking heather.

Music. He loved sharing his favorite songs with you. You loved how excited he would get, when you actually knew the song.

Showering together; the purest form of intimacy. You loved washing his hair and he loved washing yours. He loved feeling your body under his rough fingertips.

Night drives. You loved watching him drive and the silence of the night, so every once in a while you would go on a drive in the middle of the night, listening to music, eating junk food under the stars, or you would pull over to the side of the road and fuck. Handprints all over foggy windows were a regular occurrence.

Animalistic sex. He loved making you scream in pleasure to the point where you couldn't take it anymore. He loved making you his in every position, location and at any given time. Biting, sucking, scratching -- he loved everything. Age was just a number in his ID; that man fucked like he was in his 20s.

He loved hearing you whimper and fall apart under him. He loved the way you would forget everything but the sound of his name whenever he would fuck you.

Slow sensual sex. Even though he loved fucking you senseless he also loved making love to you. He loved worshipping every inch of your body, taking his sweet time, teasing you until you couldn't take it anymore. He loved the way you would look at him. He was aware how much he was loved by you, but still thought he didn't deserve it.

Kissing. That man loved to kiss. Your neck was his favorite spot. You loved to bite his lower lip, just to tease him, since he would always get hard from it. He loved the way you would play with his lip between your teeth.

"Stop biting me, we are in public."

"Make me."

The first time he told you he loved you was in the bedroom. His guard was down, he was pounding in and out of you slowly as you were digging your nails into his shoulder blades. He still had no idea why he said it, but there was something about you that day. You were completely lost in him, telling him how good he was, how handsome he looked and how he made you feel so so good. He couldn't help himself. He whispered a soft I love you into your ear before you came, moaning his name over and over. "I love you too, handsome," you told him before kissing him. He would never forget it.

Enjoy me being delulu y 'all. Still struggling to write and feeling like shit. Hopefully it will pass soon, it's quite annoying.