joeldarling - Tumblr blog

joeldarling · 12 days ago

Text

The View Between Villages (Part I) - Oldman!Joel x F!reader

Summary: Based on a request I lost, you are immune and Oldman!Joel saves you.

Warnings: Glasses!Joel mentioned, no reader description at all, no smut on this part but there'll be on the next one, a bit of angst and slowburn, stubborn!reader x caring!Joel, Abby doesn't exist here. Mentions of violence but nothing graphic. Joel just want to fix things and make reader happy.

Word count: 3.6k

A/N: Anon, I lost your request and I know that wasn't what you asked but I promise I will make something else, I just wanted to say I got REALLY inspired and it turned out something totally different, your idea was amazing and IT WILL BE SOLID ON MY NEXT WRITING! English it’s not my first language, so I apologize in advance for any typos. I enjoyed so much this one and the next part will be out in two days with the smut! I just felt like writing some angst background was necessary. You can find more oldman!Joel in my masterlist as well. Feedbacks are utterly appreciated and my requests are always open. 💌

When you arrived in Jackson on a hurried, blood-covered night, carried by a stranger and utterly terrified, you never imagined the community could feel so familiar, so much like home, as if the end of the world wasn't a primary concern. Here, people arrived from all corners, given the chance to reinvent themselves.

And you did the same, leaving your old life behind and deciding that your new beginning wouldn't depend on anyone's help. You were born to be alone, and you were—and always would be—a lone wolf. That no longer bothered you as it did when you were younger and less experienced, almost a burden to those who carried you like unwanted baggage. You had sworn to yourself that you'd never count on anyone again, a vow made the moment an exorbitant number of clickers had chased your last group, decimating all of them except for you, for a peculiar reason.

You were immune—and of course, you had climbed the highest tree you could find and hidden for two entire nights, unsure if you would survive.

You'd always known you were different. As a child, you were left almost dead by a group of revolutionaries after being bitten, but two weeks later, you were still alive, hungry and alone. The wound seemed to heal at a snail's pace, but it didn't kill you. That seemed like a secret to keep, especially with radical scientists looking for a cure. And when one of them finally captured you, you thought it was the end of the line, thinking that maybe what you deserved after tricking death so many times.

Joel Miller was a skeptical man, but few knew the violence that had led him to be so gentle.

Tommy and him had been investigating the same group that had taken Ellie years ago. Even with the significant loss of that damned doctor that Joel had killed, the doctor who was willing to sacrifice a child for a cure he clearly couldn't provide, they hadn't rested. They continued searching for those immune to Cordyceps. When they discovered a part of the group's hideout, Joel was the first to question whether they were holding hostages—people who had a chance to survive and live full mediocre lives—for an almost impossible greater purpose.

It was obvious Tommy didn't approve of his decision. But Joel wanted to understand Ellie; he wanted her to live in a world where, if someone else like her existed, she might feel a little better within Jackson's fragile walls.

Perhaps then, she could forgive him.

He embarked on a journey alone in the middle of the night, giving the excuse that he had swapped his patrol shift with some young boy he couldn't even pronounce the name correctly. He rode all night until dawn when he reached what appeared to be an abandoned hospital, experiencing the same flashbacks of years earlier when his heart raced at the possibility of losing his daughter—again.

Because Ellie was his daughter; he couldn't deny it. Not to himself, not after so much effort and sacrifice had been made to ensure she was breathing safely miles away.

Joel heard loud screams, which sounded like a woman, a desperate one, and didn't hesitate to enter the location with his gun ready to kill whoever was necessary. The place was empty somehow, with only a female figure chained to a gurney, wearing little more than a hospital gown, though it seemed she still had on her underwear. She was scared, appeared injured, and still had two IV access points in her arms.

"Ain't here to hurt ya," he said, his accent echoing strong and gravelly. Despite being almost sixty, Joel was still in good shape, except perhaps for the prominent belly from all the beer he used to drink at Tipsy Bison with Tommy almost every night, and the knee pain he always ignored until he had to take a day or two off patrol to recover. "M'gonna take those access out of ya' and then I will give you m' jacket, okay?"

He slowly described everything he was doing to keep you from screaming, but your eyes were pure panic, as if you were completely dissociating, a way to make everything less painful. And well, the doctor and nurses weren't gentle at all; your arms would certainly be all bruised later if you made it out alive, and the wound around your waist had been roughly shaved so they could examine it. Gods, they didn't even have the right equipment for it. You screamed, begged for them to stop.

It was useless.

But as Joel tried, you nodded. It would be better to die by a bullet than slowly from pseudoscientific experiments.

Joel carefully removed the access points, adjusting the dirty piece of cotton as best he could to prevent any bleeding. Once he got you sitting on the gurney, he took off his own jacket and put it on you. It would be a long ride to Jackson, and you two hadn't much time before they returned. Joel had promised himself he wouldn't kill anyone unnecessarily, knowing how much Ellie would disapprove if she found out. He was tired of being a monster, but he wouldn't leave you to die to the whims of chance or fate.

You didn't say anything, no sound emitted except for a few moans of pain when your bare feet hit the cold, dirty floor. Joel agilely lifted your body and, even with his back aching, carried you with surprising gentleness to the back exit where his horse was tied. Getting onto the animal was a little difficult, but when he managed to adjust your body in front of his, trying as much as possible to keep your body warm in a respectful way, he didn't hesitate to move as fast as he could. Even during the small, breathless pause he took in the middle of the dark and silent woods, you refused the food he offered, not out of fear, but because you felt the horse's swaying would make you vomit at any moment, still groggy from the excessive amount of medicine they got you. Joel remained silent, his expression worried. He had briefly seen the wound that should prove your immunity when he put you on the horse, your body still trembling, but he said nothing. It was none of his business anyway.

You certainly didn't remember when you had fallen asleep, but when you did, you only woke to the sound of metal creaking and distant shouts. A group seemed to be on standby in case they needed to go looking for Joel, but they began to disperse when they saw the old man riding back to the gates, almost two days later, given his figure, holding a young woman in his arms, especially as she clung with all the firmness she could to his thick plaid flannel, which wasn't much, completely weak and hurt.

From that, you were taken to a doctor, received proper care and a new chance, without ever crossing paths with the man to whom you owed your life out of pure stubbornness.

He seemed hesitant whenever he saw you, always about to say something but never doing it. You gave no opening, afraid he would tell others about your secret or feel too intimate to be a regular part of your life.

However, Ellie Williams, or whatever her name was, seemed willing to break down all your walls effortlessly. She struck up conversations during lunch and all other meals, invaded your space, offered to walk you home even if she filled the silence the whole time with chatter and you couldn't even pay attention. It was more like she wanted to be listened to, and later you discovered that she was Joel's adopted daughter. He saved her just as he saved you.

It was one afternoon while she was skipping beside you that Ellie revealed Joel had told her about your immunity — you froze. It wasn't his secret to share. You opened your mouth and closed it, still unsure what to say to a teenager who genuinely seemed to want your friendship. You didn't want to hurt her feelings, but the anger was boiling your blood.

"I am like... this. No one knows it, of course, it's still dangerous even here but... Joel told me the day you guys arrived and made me promise I wouldn't act weird." Her voice was low, as if the two of you were sharing a secret, and in fact, you were. "I thought I was a monster but... You don't look like one. That just means I'm not alone."

A knot formed in your throat as you continued walking, your gaze fixed on your own feet. The wound, a constant reminder of your past, seemed to sting a thousand times more now, burning with shame. It was painfully clear that a girl like her, Ellie, was just lonely. And though you were still frustrated with Joel, you started to understand his perspective. It wasn't his fault, or yours, or hers. You simply didn't know how to handle it.

"I don't like talking about it." You cut the conversation short, something you'd never done before. Ellie looked upset, clearly taken aback by your sudden shift, but you didn't care. You'd reached your house anyway. Slowly, you climbed the steps, crossing your arms, your heart pounding against your ribs.

You stepped inside and slammed the door shut, unable to shake the annoyance. All of this felt like a curse, and honestly, you didn't care about a cure. Not when, after all these years, it clearly wasn't going to work. You were alone, and there was no reason for you to sacrifice yourself for anyone. Selfish tears streamed down your face as your body collapsed onto the sofa. You didn't even notice the fireplace was lit, as if someone had been there, not until you read the note left in rough letters on stained paper on the wooden coffee table.

"Figured ya'd could get cold. The house needs some fixing, let me know when you're available. — J"

You weren't alone; all those people wanted to help you. Still, the only thing you felt was rage, having spent so long surviving on your own that any display of affection felt like the end of the world. You didn't feel worthy; you felt dirty.

But you weren't the only one. You weren't a freak of nature. You could handle this.

You should.

You fell asleep right there, and when you woke, sunlight had already faded, giving way to the stars and the full moon, another cold night. You searched for Joel’s jacket, the only one you owned, and put it on, deciding to head outside. The clock read nine o'clock; dinner had barely begun.

The leather still carried his scent. You hadn't mustered enough courage to return it, and it was warm, lined inside, preventing the dampness from reaching your other layers of clothing. For the first few days in your new home, you even wore it to sleep, not because you were cold, but because it felt familiar, something you couldn't recall feeling throughout your entire life.

As you walked toward the community hall, shrinking further into the jacket, your mind drifted far away. You knew you should apologize to Ellie; after all, you were the adult, and despite everything, she deserved answers too. You understood more than anyone how lonely Jackson could be. Maybe if you found her there, you could tell her how sorry you were and start again.

Your dissociative state, however, shattered when your body collided with another, sending you sprawling to the ground, your tailbone protesting with a loud crack from the sheer lack of exercise.

“Jeez’, doll!” You'd recognize that voice even with your eyes closed, but staring at his worn and heavy boots was enough to confirm it was Joel offering his large, calloused hand to help you up, a worried look on his face. He was wearing another thick, dark jacket, a scarf, and his glasses seemed fogged by the cold. His curly, graying hair was slicked back as if he'd just stepped out of the shower. “Didn’t saw ya’, my bad. Was lookin’ for ya’ the other day and…”

His eyes lingered on your body as you stood, brushing dirt from the jacket. Joel would never admit how much his chest swelled with satisfaction seeing you still wearing his jacket. It was certainly too big, but even so, it looked better on you. His gaze softened on your rosy lips, on features he found so beautiful he almost forgot the years that separated you. You were certainly in your mid-twenties or so, but he was still sixty and could be your grandfather.

"I…" You started, trying to form a sentence, but since you'd arrived in town, you hadn't exchanged a single coherent phrase with him, stunned and scared. Joel seemed to understand. "Thank you, Joel. For everything."

That's what escaped your lips, and he nodded, the phrase heavy with meaning dissolving the earlier anger. Because above all, you understood he was just an old man who wanted the best for his daughter, who wanted to understand her world, and yet, he was generous enough for that to involve saving strangers in hospitals and risking his own life during the process.

"Ya' don't have to thank me," he mumbled back, realizing he was still holding your hand and making no move to let go. "Hope I didn't burn your house down with the fire today."

"No, you did not," you replied, pulling your hand from his and burying it in the jacket's pockets, feeling your cheeks burn with a shyness you didn't know still existed deep inside you.

Joel cleared his throat, sounding as awkward as you felt, but instead of moving on, just as he was about to take a step away, he looked at you again.

"Ellie told me ya' got a bit upset today. It was my fault, not hers. She likes you a lot. Don't be mad at her," Joel confessed, sounding somehow emotional. "It was the first time she really talked with me in months… When I rescued you, I told her the reason but… Today was the first time she…"

"I'm sorry about that. I didn't know she wasn't talking with you." You were sincere. "I was going to apologize to her. Maybe we could walk together? I… suppose you're heading to dinner?"

You stumbled over the words slowly, captivating Joel's attention with every second without even realizing it. He wasn't going to dinner, no. It was rare for Joel to have dinner; he usually spent his nights at the Tipsy Bison and ate whatever he found at home afterward since he hated all the chatter in the community hall and all the lines, the stress of choosing a group to interact with due to the lack of individual tables… Well, he was kinda a lone wolf too.

"Yes, sure," he grunted. It was funny how Joel's grumpy demeanor extended to everyone but you. How he seemed to ignore all the waves, especially from all the middle-aged women, as he walked silently beside you, hands in his pockets, toward the community hall.

Before you could even step inside, voices were already audible and you flinched. Joel seemed to notice, looking at you with a raised brow. You certainly hated the stares you attracted; it wasn't as if you'd arrived in Jackson as a refugee or anything. Joel had gone out on his own and returned with you, and whatever his reasons were, clear to you, they certainly weren't—and shouldn't be—to the rest of the community.

"I have sum' stuff at home I could cook for us. I know how… suffocating it can be," he offered gently, as gentle as his husky voice allowed, which sent shivers through your entire body. You knew you shouldn't accept, knew you should continue your life as alone as possible because you viewed all attachments as weaknesses.

That's what they had taught you your whole life. But here… here, affection was present in absolutely everything, and it made you long for something you couldn't have.

Even so.

"That would be nice…" You agreed, sighing in relief. The great food wouldn't compensate for the small talk that churned your stomach, all the filtered parts of your past during a thirty or forty-minute period.

You both began walking in the opposite direction. Joel had a long stride but seemed to make an effort not to let anxiety consume him, adjusting his pace to match yours.

"I saved ya' that day because I was looking for someone like Ellie. Maybe a child or a young man but… that wasn't… just fate. These damn so-called-doctors are stalking people down and treating them like a fuckin' experiment." He sounded almost angry, and you wondered if that's how his and Ellie's lives had crossed.

"I never stepped in to say thank you properly," you began, feeling utterly embarrassed. "I was alone since my last group left me to die, and I… Well, these people you rescued me from, whatever they are called, found and knocked me down. The last thing I remember was being tied and having my bruise scalped and…" Tears threatened to fall from your eyes, the air suddenly thin, and you couldn't finish your sentence, clearing your throat and looking up at the starry sky.

You rarely saw stars in the dense forest; they seemed almost a miracle, a gift.

"I just want you to know that I was alone my entire life, and it's hard for me to let people help… That doesn't mean I'm not immensely grateful for what you did for me. You saved my life, and I owe you forever." You said, your voice still thick with emotion.

"You owe me nothing, darlin', just be happy, and I'll be satisfied." He seemed sincere. Joel was difficult to decipher.

You walked for a bit longer before he pointed to his own house with his right hand. He lived at the end of the street, with a rather beautiful view of the surrounding fields and mountains. When he opened the door and let you in, it felt much more like a home than yours. The furniture was of the same worn standard, but picture frames were scattered about with the few photographs he had: an unknown girl in a purple shirt, placed directly above the fireplace in a photo where he was smiling and looked years younger, even before everything happened. A photo of Ellie and another one of Tommy beside a younger Joel. They weren't many things, but they felt personal.

The sofa held a beige blanket, and the fire in the fireplace was almost dead. He attentively switched on the lights and gestured for you to make yourself at home.

Joel wasn't good at small talk but neither were you and the silence felt comfortable. You settled into one of the chairs around the not-too-large table, entertained by what looked like a cube full of colors that never seemed to align correctly.

You hadn't seen much of the world, never even had the opportunity as you were born after everything had fallen apart. Deep down, you held onto the belief that you couldn't miss something you'd never experienced. Still, you knew life was about more than just surviving, eating rabbits, and leaving a trail of blood wherever you went.

"It's called a 'magic cube,' you have to match the colors right," Joel said, his tone almost playful, as he put pasta into a pot of water and searched for other ingredients to make what was presumably a sauce. "I never solved it; it's quite impossible."

"Indeed it is," you agreed, examining it with curiosity, trying to find a solution.

"How old are you?" he asked, using another pot and pouring ingredients into it.

"Twenty-four. I'll be twenty-five next spring. I just don't know the day, so I just assume it's the first one after that." You answered, still too focused on the cube, but deciding to put it aside the moment you realized it truly seemed to have no solution, letting out a single laugh to yourself. “It’s funny.”

“You can take them. Ellie has plenty of those. She lives in the garage.” He explained, seeming hopeful that maybe his relationship with his daughter could improve.

Joel continued to unravel the mysteries in his own kitchen and you started to feel slightly useless just standing there. Rising from that feeling, you moved to the sink, beginning to wash whatever he dirtied and set aside for more than three seconds. It was almost like a silent connection. You both seemed to function well, your bodies nearly touching, sharing the small space in synchrony with the warmth you both emanated.

You knew Joel was a broken man, and like you, he carried demons he'd never dared to face. Perhaps, that was the most beautiful part of him.

When everything was ready, and he set the food on the table, along with the plates and glasses filled with cold water, you moved towards your chair, bumping into him for the second time that night. This one, however, instead of letting you collide, Joel caught your waist, and your faces were forced to meet. His breathing seemed labored, and his strong arms were exposed by his moss-green t-shirt, having shed his outer layers minutes before for better mobility.

"Watch out, beautiful," was the only thing he said, making no move to release your waist, his touch deepening, as did the tension between you. He looked at you almost as if he were starving, and the confusion in your eyes didn't seem to be an impediment, because deep down, you felt the same thing.

Joel finally looked into your eyes, and all you knew was that the entire world had fallen silent, as if it were waiting for something.

229 notes · View notes

joeldarling · 13 days ago

Text

First touch

Pairing: Joel miller x fem!reader

Summary: you didn‘t had many partners throughout the years, you are unexperienced. Joel, your older boyfriend, takes your virginity.

Warnings: 18+, Mdni, smut, pinv, softdom!joel miller, slight ddlg undertones, oral m!receiving, slight overstimulation, fingering, unexperienced virgin!reader, BIG praise kink, pet names, nervous!reader, age gap! (20s x 50s), lots of fluff, aftercare

„You sure?“ Joel asked you, a gentle reminder that you are safe, a reminder that you can stop anytime you want and that he will always be there, to make you feel comfortable. Joel has always been like that, since the beginning of your relationship and even before that. He made you feel safe, taken care of, comfortable and loved. All of those things that people thought he couldn‘t give you, because of the big age gap you two had.

You met trough friends, he was the older brother of tommy— a friend you never really paid attention to that much. You talked occasionally and that‘s was it. After meeting his brother, you basically started being best friends with tommy, you wanted to see Joel every day. You wanted to spend time with him, you wanted to catch his attention.

Fast forward Joel did fall in love with you, the guilt of looking at a young girl like you was existing, but it wasn‘t something he could control. The love and affection was one, that he could not get out of his head. Your pretty face, cheeks flaming up with a pretty pink color, biting on those plump lips and giving him all the sweetest eyes. He was just a man, after all.

„I‘m sure, Joel. Teach me.“ your voice is just above a whisper. The lights were dimmed, the sheets clean and freshly washed. The air carried a wooden scent, while the soft splatter of rain met the windows of his apartment. Your freshly shaved legs brushed against the sheets, reveling in their smooth touch.

The past days there had been a tension. A sexual tension. It all began with a make out on the couch. His lips hungrily latching into your neck, then going down your breasts. Your hips began unexpectedly to move, feeling his bulge grow from the friction. Before his hands could go further down your body, you stopped him, coming to your senses. You were a virgin and as much as you would‘ve loved that joel took you right then and there, you were still scared. Scared about messing something up, scared to do something weird and maybe make Joel uncomfortable. You were worried that you couldn‘t meet his expectations, he was a grown man. Seemingly had many sexual encounters and he was feeling confident.

But joel wasn‘t your man if he didn‘t asked you all day long if he had done something wrong or why you abruptly stopped him.

He was still carefully navigating trough all. Your age was something that didn‘t held him, but he took everything slower. Knowing you don‘t have the experience, knowing that at this time you are still learning and still needed some form of assistance.

You told him that day what was bothering you. Told him you were a virgin, made it clear that you were scared. And god bless— Joels eyes softened, a sigh leaving his lips, a relieved one. He was more than understandable, even found it cute that you would think that it‘s something to be embarrassed about. The topic was moved for another day. When you felt comfortable enough to lose your virginity.

But the day came faster then you had initially thought.

See, you were still crazily attracted to your man. Still feeling his bulge between your legs when you grinded on him, still feeling that throbbing that suddenly appeared when he started to bite your skin. The lust and hunger was still there, lurking inside of you, not letting you go. Squirming and squeezing your thighs just did not cut it. And Joel noticed it. Noticed your pretty eyes all hazy, looking up to him, expecting something, lost in the neediness, mind completely clouded. Caught it the way you put the blanket between your legs, in the middle of the night. Your hot cheeks whenever he talked to you, tripping over your words, wanting just one more kiss before he leaves. It was all so obvious.

So he asked you— asked you if he could make love to you. Your eyes widened, a small sense of embarrassment going trough you while your cheeks turned into a deeper shade of red. But you felt relief in your heart, that finally something was gonna happen. Because you definitely wouldn’t have dared to ask him yourself. So you said yes.

„Gonna take it slow, yea? Teach you everything, make sure you‘re ready.“

You trusted him. Joel was a great man, these five months you were together with him, he took things always slow, had big patience, gentle and calculated. His words always calmed you down, no matter what. Joel with his rough edges, was a sweet loving man who always put you first.

His hand were gently caressing your thigh, fingertips drawing circles on your skin and awaiting for an answer.

„Yes. Slow.“ you nodded your head to him, smiling.

„Okey, sweetheart. Then undress for me, will you?“ you obligated, standing up from the bed and slowly removing every piece of clothing from your body except from your panties. You followed Joels eyes as he sat in front of you, his gaze going to your breast then your pussy, to your legs and landing on your face, licking his lips and then giving you a soft nod to tell you that you did good.

The room was warm, wrapped in the soft glow of candlelight. Joel had arranged them carefully, he was a romantic after all. The ambience held you like a whispered secret, familiar yet charged with something unspoken. And though you stood in that comforting light, vulnerability clung to you. Naked before him, your arms instinctively crossed over your chest. Joel’s eyes traced the delicate rise of goosebumps on your skin, the slight tremble in your legs. You were nervous, hesitant, unsure. Poor thing.

„C‘mere.“ he stretched his arms out, giving you a sign with his hand to let you know that you should walk to him. You immediately do, falling into his arms, sitting down on his left thigh as he wraps his arms around your back. His scent filling you, the flannel he was wearing creating a friction against your nipples. Your face heating, but you try to concentrate on your man. His sweet eyes, that reassuring look he always gives you. The few freckles on his nose, the patches of white in his beard.

„Sweet girl, y’don‘t have to be nervous, I promise, it’s all just us having fun, enjoying each others company. I‘ll take care of you.“ his hand gently tucking the strand of hair behind you ear and then giving your cheek a little pinch.

You sigh.

„I know, Joel. But I-I’ve never did this before, so i‘m just nervous. I don‘t know how to explain it. It‘s a lot.“

„Shh, I know, I know. We can always stop, yea? Always, baby. Don‘t want you to feel uncomfortable.“ his eyes were scan your face, searching for an answer, for a sign that you were okey. You break through the tension in the room with giggling, noticing his eyes get wide for a second at the your unexpected demeanour.

„You are so sweet to me, Joel. I want this, swear. I‘m not feeling uncomfortable at all. Just a little nervous, that‘s all.“

His lips forming into a smile, he cups your cheek softly and then slowly pulls you in for a kiss. It starts off slow, soft and full of love. His lips moving in rhythm with yours, it feels warm, familiar. Your hands find his curls, gently caressing them back. It remembers you of the first time he kissed you, how careful he was, asking for permission and then leaving you breathless and just more in love with him.

The kiss slowly transforms into something hungrier, messier, his tongue entering your mouth, as breathing gets harder and harder. The room disappears around you, your senses focus on joel—his calloused hands exploring your naked body, squeezing the flesh of your ass, the little groans leaving his lips whenever he dives his tongue into your mouth over and over again. A friction slowly being created by his jeans, becoming slowly and steadily more and more intense, the rough fabric meeting your clit, making you buck your hips into his crotch. Feeling his hardened cock in his pants, sweat starting to build on your forehead, breaking the kiss off.

Joel doesn‘t care though, he goes for your neck. Nibbling the skin, leaving gentle kisses and biting into you. Going lower and lower, taking a handful of your tits and squeezing them, rough, pinching your nipples, making you gasp. And while catching your breath, your body doesn‘t stop moving in his lap. Getting off on his bulge, your panties getting soaked just more.

And as joels eyes look up to you from biting and kissing your body, his hands encourage you to grind faster, encouraging you to cum on him. But you were not ready, yet.

You look down on his bulge and stop grinding, your hands landing on his shirt, slowly moving down, making him confused about what you are doing. You smile softly, gently laying your hand on his cock, looking up to him with big doe eyes.

„Wanna take care of me? S‘that it?“ he asks, breathless.

„Yea, if you teach me how?“ you can feel your cheeks heat up once again. Nervously biting the inside of your mouth, awaiting an answer. Yet, you didn‘t know why you were so nervous. Maybe it was the way Joel turned you on, maybe it was the fact that you‘ve never been intimate with someone, maybe it was because every body told you, that first times are always bad and awkward.

„Of course. Told ya, gonna teach you.“

„How about you get on your knees for me, honey.“ the look he gives you is intimidating, slowly letting go of your hips and body. Excitement runs through your, as you stand up and slowly kneel in front of his spread legs. But before you do he stops you, putting a pillow to the ground and nodding to you.

„S‘better, like this. Or your knees get sore.“

Joels hands lands on his pants, feeling the zipper and opening it. His head was spinning with how much lust he was feeling. You looked gorgeous. On your knees in front of him, glassy eyes looking up, pretty pink cheeks and pouty lips—all just for him, ready to please him, ready to be taught. He still saw the nervousness in your eyes, going back and forth, not knowing what to do. And poor thing, a big wet spot was already visible on your panties, making him almost coo into the room. You were needy, excited and Joel wanted to give you everything to please you. Your eyes followed as he pulled his hard cock out. Gulping at the size of him. He was thick, with a big mushroom head, pulsing red and already leaking, waiting for your mouth. Veins and veins going down his shaft, a bush of public hair awaiting at the end. Your eyes slightly widening, licking your lips, making Joel smile at the look of anticipation you were giving his cock. Like you‘ve waited so long for this to happen.

So you dared to move your hands, landing on his jeans, still unsure if you should touch him or not. But Joel notices, gently taking your hand and placing it on his cock.

„S‘okey. Don‘t have to put me in your mouth just yet. Give it some love first. Just like—” he gently wrapped your hand around his shaft with your hand underneath, slowly beginning to pump up and down, as you just watch how his head throbs and throbs. „—Like this, up and down. There we go, angel.“

Warmth runs through you at his praise, slowly getting the hang of it, jerking him off, his hands leaving yours and landing on the bed, stabilising himself. His breath was coming out shaky, a grunt leaving his throat, trying to bite back the louder moans. And he found it too fucking cute, the way you were focused on his cock, small hands just working on him with caution but also curiosity. Sometimes daring to squeeze him a bit, sometimes just focusing on the head. And he let you, let you work on your own place, let you learn it yourself and find everything out.

„Can I put it in my mouth?“

„Course, baby. Don‘t even have to ask me.“ he chuckles, his hand holding his dick once again, gently bringing it near your mouth. You first instinct is to give his tip some kitten licks, some sweet kisses, then stick your tongue out so he can tap his head on your tongue. Your eyes slightly rolling back, the pleasure in your abdomen getting almost unbearable.

„There we go, that‘s it. Close those lips around it, c‘mon.“

And you just do that, closing your lips around his head and just feeling it. You look up to him, his eyebrows furrowed, mouth gaping, quick breaths leaving his lips. Concentrating on not coming so fast.

„Just slowly, baby. Inch by inch.“ he murmured, slowly and carefully pushing his cock into your mouth. „Thaaat‘s it.“ And while it was first overwhelming, you quickly got used to the feeling. The feeling of his shaft laying heavily on top of your tongue, feeling every vain, every pulse in there. Warm, wet and soft. Even if Joel was lost in the pleasure he kept scanning your face for any discomfort, stopping at just half of his dick and gently pulling out again, letting you catch your breath. And while he slowly jerked his cock in his hand, his other hand cupped your cheek, searching for your eyes, for permission to continue. And you gave it to him. You wanted to take him, you wanted to suck him off, not leave him like that.

Opening your mouth once more you took him in. This time replacing his hand by yours and starting to have a little rhythm. Bobbing your head up and down, hollowing your cheeks, sometimes squeezing the rest of his shaft with your hands, trying to twirl around his head and being thankful for not having a gag reflex. His grunts and little moans on top, encouraging you to go faster, sloppier and get more confident. Joel notices the drool leaving your mouth, your tits moving with your head and your hips starting to hump the air. He was mesmerised.

„Goddamn, angel. Already doing so fucking good. Have me on the verge of cumming all over you, here.“

You pull off his dick, a sting of spit connecting all of it, while you look into Joels begging eyes. His jaw clenched, sweat also already forming on his face. You wanted him to cum, you wanted to see it, you wanted him to paint you all over your tits and have it dripping down your body. Needy, desperate you took him into your mouth again. This time going faster, focussing on the pulsing head as you felt Joels hands on your hair, putting it into a ponytail, taking control and making you suck him off in his tempo.

„Prettiest fucking girl.“ he groans. But he was still being cautious, not trying to go too fast with your hair, not trying to get too rough, scare you off. But at the look of your face and the way your mouth was latched onto him, he knew that even if he was going rough, you would enjoy it.

You felt his whole cock in your mouth pulse as moans spilled from his lips. You looked up to him, his head thrown to the ceiling, eyes squeezed shut, his legs slightly shaking. You pulled off, wrapping your hands around his shaft and jerking him off, sudden spurts and spurts of cum releasing all over you. Painting your tits, your thighs and even the carpet. His breathing was rough as you tried your best to pump him trough his orgasm. And as the streams of cum let on, his eyes opening again, you smiled up to him. Satisfied with yourself and your work.

„Was that good?“ you ask softly, standing up from the ground, gently sitting down besides him. His body still limb, breath still coming heavy as you gently push the salt and pepper hair away from his face.

„Y‘kidding, angel? That was more than good. You did so fucking well, c‘mere.“ he pulls you into his arms again, you sit down once again in his lap, trying your best not to touch his cock that was still laying out, as you embrace his kisses on your neck and forehead. Hand cupping your cheek, gently stroking it and then giving you a peck on your lips. But you squirm, scolding closer to him, rubbing your panties along his jeans, bucking your hips in need. The tingly feeling in your tummy just spreading more and more while Joels hands explore your body.

„Oh, my poor baby.“ he coos.

„Look at you. Already soaked for me, hm? Now it‘s your turn, yea? Gonna teach you how to take cock— ” he murmurs into your ear, biting your earlobe, leaving wet kisses around as you try to hide your face in his shoulder. „Gonna stretch you out, show you how good it feels.“

„Please.“ and how can he say no to that? How can you say no to those pretty eyes, to that sweet pout on your lips, your hips bucking in need. Joel would do everything for you, with just a look of your eyes.

„Yea s‘alright, I know baby. Let‘s see, c‘mon. Lay down.“

You do what he says, quickly. Laying down on the bed, your hair spreading over the pillows, Joels scent surrounds you. You can feel the throbbing in your panties, the sticky feeling, your thighs aching and in your head already dizziness. Once more, excitement runs through you, this time feeling a little more confident but still nervous on what Joels next move is. Joel does the same, getting into the bed with you, suiting him up between you legs.

„Spread them some more for me, will you?“

You do just as he asked you to, slowly opening your legs, spreading them, revealing your panties fully to him. Softly smiling to you, he gently caressed your inner thighs, squeezing your hips and inching closer to your lower abdomen, his fingertips lightly brushing over your mound, making your breath stop for a second. But he never touches over your pussy, always staying close, poking at your thighs, gently caressing. Bending down, kissing your mound, his beard roughly going over your skin. An attempt to tease you, to make you more desperate than you already are. Your hips bucking into his lips, earning a chuckle as he squeezed your hips down again.

„Little desperate, aren‘t we?“

„Please, Joel.“ you whimpered out, the frustration growing as he gently blowed air on top of your panties, on the little wet spot, a gentle cool catching your clit that keeps throbbing in need. A whine leaving your lips. And if you wouldn‘t know better you would huff and puff, squeeze your fists in frustration, but you wanted to be good for him.

„Oh I know, baby. I know. How about I do this, hm?“ his fingertips finally landing on top of your panties, your clit already making a big imprint on the fabric, making it easy for him to find. His thumb gently gives you one rub, then going down pressing in your hole making the cloth only wetter. He plays with you like this. You and your pussy crying in need as Joel take his time to pet you over your panties, playing with the squelching of your wetness, tapping on your little nub, just to see your reaction. And all that with a concentrated look in his face, sometimes giving you a kiss on your mound, thighs and clit. Sometimes going up and pinching your nipples. All the while you lay there trying to not cry from frustration. His lips giving a tsk whenever you try to whine, shaking his head at you—disappointed. And you didn‘t want to be bad for him.

After those agonising minutes he decides that he teased you enough, suddenly taking your underwear off and tossing it around the room. You take a breath, a relief, finally it was over. His face hungrily looks at your pussy, his lips turning into a smirk as he spreads your lips with both of his thumbs, blows air once more, seeing you flutter around nothing, your clit moving and wetness just spreading everywhere.

„Fucking cute, look at that. Aching in need.“ he coos, a gasp falling from your lips as he puts one thumb on your clit, slowly feeling the little nub, rubbing it in a few circles.

„Gooood, good. Feels good, huh baby?“

You can‘t do nothing but to nod your head, whimpering your hands landing on his arm, trying to get him to do more. To finally make you cum, to touch you, to give you what you need. Joel‘s smug face just looks at you, nodding his head—hushing you at the same time. Middle finger teasing at your clenching hole, he slowly puts the tip of his finger in, trying, feeling around, then pulling out and slowly filling you with his whole finger, finally. Moans spilling from your lips, as you feel his finger in you. The thumb on your clit not letting up, rubbing you to your first orgasm.

„There we go, theeere we go, angel. That was a good one.“ he praises you.

Your legs shaking as you lose yourself in the euphoric feeling and the relief washing over you. Pulsing and pulsing, clenching and clenching on his finger, you come down, catching your breath, looking at joel who just softly smiles at you, nodding his head. His finger not stopping, as his thumb returns to your clit again, overstimulating you, whimpers falling from your lips.

„Shh, need to stretch you properly, hon. S‘all for your own good.“ while saying that, his second finger enters you, Joel watching the stretch, the gushing all over the place, his lips turning into a smirk as your cunt pulls his fingers deeper, not letting go. He thrusts them in and out, looking at your poor overstimulated face, lips all bitten red, your tummy clenching and your tits moving up an down.

„Prettiest fuckin‘ cunt i‘ve ever seen. Taking two fingers just like it‘s nothin‘. Little nub throbbing in need, fucking pretty. Huh, angel what do ya say? Two fingers feeling good?“

You were unable to answer, just a little whine of ‚Joel‘ leaving your lips, chanting his name like it‘s the only thing you know of. The filth that was coming from his mouth, gets you already on the verge of cumming again. You squeeze your eyes shut as your legs shook and you desperately cum on his fingers. Clenching, shaking, gushing. He hushes you through it, praising you and fingering you until you calm down again. The feeling of coming two times, makes your legs feel limb, body relaxing on his bed and your head clouded. You don‘t notice as Joel leaves your cunt, undresses himself beside the bed. Only when he suddenly appears on top of you. Two big muscular arms caging you, Joel scanning your face—once again, looking for signs of discomfort.

But his sweet girl was swimming on top of clouds, cunt all satisfied and her eyes just looking at him with love.

„That‘s what ya just needed, hm? Where is my girl?“

„Here.“ you giggle, your arms wrapping around his neck, nails caressing down his back and finally feeling the warmth from your man. He chuckles, giving you a long kiss on your forehead, two kisses on your cheeks and nuzzles into your chest. You were happy, comfortable, warm. Knowing that your man does everything to make you feel better. Knowing that he takes care of you. Knowing that his already hardened cock, that you feel on your thigh is gonna fuck you, finally.

„You still need my cock, baby. Stretched you out so good, now I need to be inside you or i‘m gonna fuckin‘ explode.“ he whispers into your ear, making you giggle once more. You nod your head, hips moving against his cock desperately, wanting to finally feel him whole, wanting him to fill you. Joel sees the way your eyes scream in need, so he wastes no time and opens the drawer to your right, pulling a condom out and opening it with his mouth, before spitting the plastic into the room. And that was maybe the hottest thing you‘ve ever seen in your life. With a swift and easy move he bend down and puts the condom over his shaft, then returns on top of you, caging you once more with his arms.

He presses his forehead against you, looking into your pretty eyes while you look into his brown ones. „Take a deep breath for me, hon.“ and you do, taking in a deep breath, and exhaling it out, while the room turns dark and silenced once again, his tip begins entering you. The eyes of your man turning worried as you let out a hiss, puckering his lips and kissing your forehead.

„s’just a sting, it‘s okey.“ he whispers, all the while he pulls out and then enters you once more.

And he was right—it was a small sting and while he thrusted in and out again you slowly got used to the feeling. „Focus on me, you are doing so, so good.“ he whispers, Joels sweet, loving eyes were looking out for you, trying his best to determine if your expression was one that enjoyed his cock. But smiled as a big moan fell from your lips.

„That‘s right, baby. Feels good?“ every time he entered you, he pushed just a little bit more and more from his shaft into you, making the stretch bigger and bigger but it didn‘t hurt. It felt good. You nodded your head to him, your lips turning into a pout as you whined to him, feeling his cock entering you a whole, a cry of Joels name falling repeatedly from his lips while he nodded his head at you. „I know, I know. Shh, s‘ a big stretch, I know baby.“ he keeps cooing at you, nodding his head, softly caressing your face, your hair and giving you a look of empathy. And how proud he was for his sweet girl. Taking him so so well, already beginning to moan into the room, letting him know that it feels good. Bracing himself, he starts a rhythm, daring to go a little faster, thrusting in and out of your cunt. Squelching sounds and moans fill the room.

A curl hanging from Joels head, as sweat starts to build up once more, on both of your bodies. One hand twisting your nipple, seeing your face twist in pleasure.

„Fuckin‘ hell, baby. Already squeezing me, huh? Want to milk me dry?“

„Uh huh.“ you nod your head at him, your hand cupping his cheek, pulling him for a kiss.

Joel keeps fucking you, starting to vary between short, quick thrusts and then some harder ones. Sweet moans falling from your lips, a sharp cry as he just hits that sweet spot in you, one that you didn‘t even know about existed—„Yea? S’that your spot?“ His lips giving you hickeys everywhere—on your neck, chest and even on your tits. You were overwhelmed with pleasure, not expecting your first time to be this good. But you knew it was because of joel, his calculated moves, his experience, his words.

„Can feel you already getting close, angel. Gonna be a good girl for me and cum?“ he asks you breathless, his hand going down your cunt and finding your clit once again, starting to rub circles. You nod your head to him, feeling the pleasure already in your tummy—ready to snap. „Oh, I know, I know. There we go.“ You felt Joel shift in you, his cock giving you a few harder thrusts before concentrating on that spot in you, his hips slowing down, giving small and gentle thrusts. With that you throw your head back, because that was exactly what you needed, you gush around his cock, your legs locking in and your breath almost stopping. He doesn‘t let up, moving through your orgasm, his back full of nail prints of you holding on to him.

„That‘s it, angel. that‘s it. Atta girl.“

And while you are still experiencing the aftershocks of your release, Joel kisses you, lovingly. It takes you by surprise and for a moment you can‘t kiss him back, so he chuckles and breaks it off, giving you a loving peck on your forehead. „You doin‘ good?“

„Hm, feels good. Thank you for taking your time with me.“ He chuckles once more.

„You kidding? You don‘t have to thank me, silly girl. Your mine now. We take it at whatever speed you need.“ he softly tells you, making you giggle and almost tear up at how cute he was being to you. How careful, how comforting and how sweet. You‘ve never had that before, with anyone. And you are grateful for not listening to all of the other people who told you he was going to treat you like shit because of his age. But maybe it was his age that made him this soft, this careful. Maybe he already made so many mistakes in his life that now he can do everything right.

„One more? C’mon hon. C‘mon now.“

„I‘m sensitive, Joel.“ you pouted at him, earning a coo from him.

„s‘even better. Gonna feel lot more that way. Can feel you still clenching on my cock. You don‘t want to leave your little cunt all needy now, huh?“

The way he was using those filthy words made your head spin, he was good. He knew how to talk and how to make you want to get fucked again. So you smirked, starting to softy grind yourself on his cock, him taking that as a ‚yes‘ to start thrusting into you once more.

Your head was clouded, your pussy sensitive as Joel fucked you and fucked you. Already feeling his orgasm coming closer too. He could feel the clenching in your cunt, knowing it was a lot for you because you were so sensitive. Your face looked fucked out, strings of hair sticked on your face, because it you wet from the sweat, but just like with him. His hair was already dropping droplets of sweat down your body, you sweet, beautiful body. He wished he could kiss you everywhere, every day and suckle every inch of your skin. He didn‘t know how lucky he had gotten.

„Joel—so sensitive.“ your whining made him concentrate on your face, a little pout displayed, tears already starting to form in your eyes. His poor baby.

„My poor, baby. I know, angel. Just a bit more yea? Taking it so well for me.“

And on top of that he returned his thumb with your clit again, rubbing the poor nub, making you cry out into the room, hide yourself in his neck— „Shh, shh, that’s it.“ And he just hushed you, knowing it‘s so much for you, knowing that you‘ve just lost your virginity and he is already overstimulating you. His thrusts sped up, getting sloppy, feeling his orgasm near and he wanted to make you cum once more before giving you rest. His sweet girl was already tired, just holding on to him waiting for him to cum and make her cum.

The sensitivity turned into pleasure in matter of seconds, you mewled, eyes glossy you looked at him with a pleading look—to make you cum and make the aching go away. That was what all it took for him to finally release. Spurts and spurts of cum filling the condom, his hips not stopping with irregular thrusts and his finger rubbing you raw.

„C‘mon baby, cum with me.“ all that while biting back a moan, trying his best to still thrust into you even tho his balls were emptied, sensitivity rushing trough his shaft. And as he pinched your clit, you cried into the room. Moan after moan as your body completely shook, this time having the most powerful orgasm of all. Joel was satisfied, pumping a few more times gently into you before slipping out, letting you catch your breath.

You were so incredibly beautiful. All fucked out, breathing heavy, the moon shining trough the window and landing on your wet body. Everywhere just marked with his hickeys and bites, he knew they are going to stay on your body for a few weeks. And most importantly he was proud to be the one that took your virginity, that claimed you, made you cum and made you feel taken care of. And as his sweet girl almost drifts off to sleep, Joel sneakily comes back from the bathroom with a warm towel, gently lifting your leg and rubbing your thighs with the cloth, making you whine incoherently to him, bubbling something about being sensitive and then, closing your eyes again. Drifting somewhere far. So cute.

„All done, angel. You did so well for me, my good girl. I love you so much.“ he whispered one last time into your ear, before wrapping you up in blankets and laying down with you, slowly also drifting to sleep. Happy and satisfied.

PHEW.. we all need a Joel in our life‘s. Am i right?🫩

Keep in mind please, that english isn‘t my first language. I try to proofread everything as much as possible but if you notice any mistakes—please let me know!!!

Taglist!: @vickie5446 @a-goose-on-mars @thatgirlmendo @ihearttdilfs @pickyeater13 @sweetiegirl16 @keseqna @shivispunk @cuntyhunty22 @kyloispunk @meetmeatyourworst @joelmillerswife9 @iveseenstrangerthings50 @idrkman @vanishintoyoubby @dlwrish @brittmb115 @xcallmetaniax @umadirectioner @glitterspark @sweetestgirlinthecity @marisemonteiroo @pedropascalfan221 @mani-pedro @snorelaxsnores @almodovarispunk @millersdoll @immalosersblog @hotchshands @chewie-bars @ivyonmygrave @paprikainfurs @b3l1nd5 @w0nderfulbl1ss @pedrosgirl03 @conscientia-esoterica @sukivenue @bleedvfreak @xfanficluvrx @lizziesfirstwife @al0elap0l0gist @bonneyzsk @danzer8705 @valkyonslover @sage-babydoll @billionairecowgirl @joelsprettyprincess @soymiguelsesposa

635 notes · View notes

joeldarling · 13 days ago

Text

he heard you saying “I'm so hungry that I could eat Joel Miller”

1K notes · View notes

joeldarling · 13 days ago

Text

this grandpa could bend me over the kitchen table and i would be grateful

1K notes · View notes

joeldarling · 14 days ago

Text

Beck and Call

18+ MDNI!

Summary: You’ve been divorced from Joel for a little while, now. But when your sink breaks and threatens to flood your house right before a date, you have no one else to call but him. Why does he come? You don’t know. Why does he look so fucking good? You don’t know, either.

W.C: ~6.2k

TL;DR: Rule number one of getting divorced: don’t fuck your ex-husband. (Optional).

Warnings: ex-husband!joel x ex-wife!reader, sappy love confessions, improper use of a sink, praise, oral f!receiving, mirror sex, unprotected p-in-v sex, (no outbreak!)

Note: as a child of divorce, i am allowed to touch upon this matter. anyway, happy fucking i mean reading

One-third. A married couple’s least favourite fraction.

It was (and is) a well-known fact that one in three marriages ends in separation. And of course, you—being the lucky duck you were—found yours rapidly accelerating toward that destination.

You and Joel had agreed that you’d be better off apart. Joel got his own place while you kept the house. And Sarah lived with you every other week.

All you needed to do was send your attorney the signed divorce papers.

Outside of the sympathetic comments you received from acquaintances and relatives almost daily, you were doing just fine.

In fact, tonight you had a date.

A date. The kind that made you choose a tight-fitting dress that hugged your curves just right. The kind that inspired you to wear your hair in something other than a claw clip. The kind that provoked you to shave places you haven’t shaved in a long time.

The lucky bachelor was a fellow divorcee named Mark, whom you had met on a single-parent dating app. He had a full head of hair, a decent sense of humour, and two rescued Labradors. He offered to bring you to his favourite Italian restaurant, bringing up the fact that he’d pick up the bill no matter what, much to your protests. Needless to say, you had a good feeling about him.

After one last check in the mirror, you grabbed your coat and slung your purse over your shoulder, ready to head out the door.

Then, you heard it.

A faint gurgling.

You blinked twice, trying to zero in on the sound. Proceeding a few moments of intense concentration, you followed the sound into the ensuite bathroom.

The faucet was running. Had you forgotten to turn it off?

You reached for the handle. Twisted it. It spun freely, and nothing happened.

You tried and tried again, but all your efforts were in vain. You could only watch the tap stubbornly defy you as the handle jutted uselessly, loose in its socket.

“Shit.” You breathed.

The faucet sputtered out a particularly heavy spurt of water as if to say: shit, indeed.

You sighed, staring helplessly at the sink as it stared contumaciously back, water that couldn’t be swallowed by the drain toppling over the edge of the sink.

A quick Google search informed you that you needed to turn off the principal water pipe—the mains. Which you didn’t know how to do.

So, you resolved to delegate the problem to more capable hands. Like, a twenty-four-hour plumbing service. No, they could easily overcharge you. You could call your dad? No, he was too far.

Or…

Sighing, you dug out your phone from your purse and called your only remaining option. Someone who was a seasoned contractor, someone who dealt with this sink before, and someone who you just so happened to be divorcing.

He answered on the third ring.

“Hey—everything okay?” Joel’s concerned voice filtered through your phone.

“No.” You inhaled.

“No?” Joel echoed hesitantly, then waited for elaboration.

When nothing came, he cleared his throat.

Slightly confused, slightly wry, he continued, “This is the part where you tell me what’s wrong.”

“Um, my sink’s busted.”

“Your sink… is busted?”

“Yeah. Faucet won’t turn off. It-It’s a lot of water.” You bit the inside of your cheek, leaning on the wall. “I didn’t know who else to call.”

A moment of silence, then:

“You need me to fix it?”

Was that annoyance? Exhaustion? It definitely wasn’t exhilaration at the prospect of doing manual labour at eight o’clock on a Friday evening.

“You know what? Forget I called. This was stupid. Sorry to bother you—”

“I’m on my way.”

Despite the gravity of the situation, after he hung up, the smallest of smiles began forming on your face.

Fifteen minutes later, a knock came from your front door.

You swung the door open, and there he stood. Tool bag in hand, flannel shirt stretching tightly over his broad shoulders, salt-and-pepper hair just a little bit unkempt.

It had been a good few months since the two of you went your separate ways, but there he was—still at your beck and call. What that meant, exactly, remained to be seen.

But you were glad to see him, nonetheless.

“Hi,” You said breathlessly.

Upon seeing you, Joel’s brows shot up, and he blinked a few times.

“Hi.” He said back slowly, then cleared his throat. “Am I… interruptin’ something?”

You glanced down. Right. Tight dress and makeup.

“I have a date in…” You raised your left wrist and winced as you looked down at your watch. “Five minutes ago.”

“A date.” He clicked his tongue, nodding to himself. “Well, I’ll try to make this quick, then.”

You hummed a noise of agreement, pivoted, and, with a wave of your hand, invited Joel inside.

He stepped through the doorway with a quiet grunt. And, as he bent down to undo his boots, his coffee-brown gaze landed on a pile of unopened mail by the entryway table. A few envelopes had slipped to the floor, and he crouched to gather them without thinking.

But his eyes lingered on the top one as he straightened up to his full height.

“Mrs Miller?” Joel read aloud.

“What?” Your breath caught in your throat, and you spun around to meet his stare.

Joel wordlessly held the envelope up with two fingers, the corners of his lips slightly upturned.

“Oh.” You cringed inwardly. “Yeah.”

“Didn’t, uh, realise that you were keepin’ the name.” He shrugged offhandedly, tossing the stack of mail onto the entryway table.

“I’m not. I just…” You ran a hand through your hair. “Paperwork isn’t final.”

For the divorce.

Joel’s eyebrows pinched together. “I sent you my signed copies, if—”

“I know you did. I just haven’t sent the papers to my lawyer yet.” You pressed your lips into a thin line and avoided his gaze. “Just got a lot on my plate, recently.”

That was very unconvincing.

Joel hummed a noncommittal noise.

“Well…” He huffed sheepishly. “You know I always liked my name on you.”

You swallowed, feeling your stomach do a funny flip and your ears burn up. Why were your ears burning up?

“C’mon. The problem is upstairs.”

The faucet, to your dismay, hadn’t stopped. It was worse now, if that was even possible, spitting little rogue sprays of water alongside the main stream. Great.

You checked your watch again. Fifteen minutes late. You would no doubt have a few missed calls from your poor suitor if you had the guts to check your phone.

Joel sank to one knee as he inspected the sink, squinting at the appliance and shaking his head. Miraculously, he reached in and, a few rusty squeaks later, the water stopped.

“You fixed it.” You blinked.

“Far from it,” He muttered, frowning. “The cartridge’s shot. And the valve stem’s stripped. Who installed this?”

Without missing a beat, “you did.”

“…Right.”

You leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over your chest. “So?”

“So, this isn’t a quick fix. I need to pull out the whole assembly. Maybe replace the handle, too. And judging by the corrosion around this nut—” He held up a discoloured metal hexagon like it had personally offended him—“you’ve probably had a leak back here for a while.”

You blinked. “And you didn’t notice that when you lived here?”

Joel turned to shoot you a look. “I was your husband, not your handyman.”

“Really? I could’ve sworn I married you for that toolbox of yours.”

“And here I thought it was ‘cause of my radiant personality.”

“Definitely not that.” You huffed out a laugh.

Despite his back being turned to you, you could just about make out a reluctant smile forming through his slightly greying stubble.

You watched as he rolled up his plaid sleeves, exposing tanned forearms that were entirely too bulky for someone in his mid-forties. He then dug into his bag, fishing out an Allen Wrench.

“You can go on your date,” Joel added, not looking at you. “I’ll be out of here in an hour. Two, tops. But… if you feel like gettin’ frisky, maybe do it at his place. Just in case.”

Right, your date.

Biting the inside of your cheek, you took out your phone. Six missed calls and a flurry of concerned texts.

Decidedly, you typed out an apologetic message mentioning a water-related emergency and stuffed your phone back in your purse.

“I’m staying with you.”

Joel froze and turned to look at you from over his shoulder. “No, you ain’t. I’ll take too long.”

“Well, I can’t leave you to fix my problems while I’m out eating overpriced ravioli.” You shrugged and, with a soft grunt, took a seat against the wall near him. “You’re not a plumber, you’re a… you’re my…”

Ex-husband.

You cleared your throat, then emphasised, “You’re not a plumber.”

Joel let out a slow exhale. “Do whatever you want, but I doubt watching me fix your sink is gon’ be as fun as your date.”

“I’ve got a full bottle of Pinot Noir in the fridge.” You tilted your head. “We can make it fun.”

Joel’s eyebrows shot up.

“Not—not in that way.” You rubbed a clammy hand down your face.

To your surprise, that earned you a small, gruff laugh from Joel, his eyes crinkling momentarily the way they only did when he was truly amused.

His voice was soft when he responded.

“Go on and get the wine, then, sweetheart.”

Two crystal glasses and a little while later, Joel had put down his wrench and opted instead to sit beside you on your tiled bathroom floor, his shoulders brushing up against yours in the cramped space.

Efforts to tame the defiant sink had long since been forgotten. He did the best he could, but retired upon discovering that you had no spare sink handle lying around—how very unprepared of you.

The bad news was that you weren’t going to be able to wash your hands in the master bedroom ensuite tonight. The good news was that you were having a surprisingly good time with Joel. The conversation evolved from discussing your stood-up date (you showed Mark’s profile, Joel was convinced he was lying about his dogs being rescues), then to how his company was going, and then, reminiscing about the good ol’ days.

“All I’m sayin’,” Joel continued through a laugh. “Is that she did it on purpose.”

“My mom has always been bad with names!”

“Bad enough to still call me ‘George’ after a year of us datin’?” He scoffed.

You stifled a giggle. “In her defence, it’s a very similar—”

“Like hell it is. And your dad? He was worse.” Joel chuckled, finishing the last of his wine. “How is he?”

“Fine. Just called him yesterday, actually.”

“He still callin’ me–?”

“He still calls you ‘porn stache’, yes.”

Joel snorted into his hand, his shoulders bobbing up and down with laughter. Real, genuine laughter.

You smiled and turned to steal a glance at his profile.

His eyes crinkled at the corners, his hooked nose scrunched mid-chuckle, and his laugh was exactly as it was before—low and rough, but somehow boyish and unguarded.

You had almost forgotten how his whole face lit up when he laughed.

And, you didn’t mean to stare. But you did.

God, you missed this.

“I think I prefer George.” Joel ran a hand down his face, still smiling.

You cleared your throat and leaned over to retrieve the almost-empty wine bottle, refilling your glasses.

“Sarah told me to say hi to you, if I got the chance, by the way.” You said, pouring the Pinot Noir into his glass. “She’s with my parents in the lake house.”

“The lake house?” Joel hummed, taking another sip of his drink. “Still disappointed I didn’t get that in the settlement.”

You snorted, amused. “You don’t even like lakes.”

“No, I don’t like the mosquitoes that come with the lakes.” Joel corrected you, pointedly. “But, I don’t know, I guess I just miss it. A lot of good memories there.”

You felt yourself smile. “Yeah. Yeah, there were.”

A beat.

“Hey, at least you kept the cars. And the boat. And the frequent flier miles. And, well, you see Sarah every other week.” You turned to look at Joel, but he was already looking at you.

A certain vulnerability swam in the brown of his eyes. Something you hadn’t seen in a very long time.

“Yeah, well… there were more important things I couldn’t keep.”

The air thinned. The wine, the laughter, the conversation—everything dissolved in the quiet admission, hanging thickly in the space between you.

And suddenly, there was only you and Joel and the mistakes that had wedged you apart yet somehow brought you back together again; on a random Friday evening on the floor of a bathroom you used to share.

“Joel…” You swallowed, your hand falling from your lap onto the tiles.

But you couldn’t form any semblance of a sentence. How could you?

There was nothing to say. Yes, you missed him. ‘Missed’ was an understatement.

Sometimes you’d roll over in the night, wishing to feel the weight of his arm resting on your waist, reassuring you that these past few months had only been a bad dream. Sometimes you came to pick Sarah up early, just to get a few more minutes with him. Sometimes—no, a lot of the time, memories of him came rushing back, cleaving your heart into two, further and further each time.

No matter how hard you tried, you just couldn’t let go of the man you spent so many years loving.

Joel’s eyes still bore into yours. And nothing in the world could have torn you away.

He exhaled slowly, then set down his glass with care. His hand barely brushed yours, but it was enough to make your breath hitch.

“I think about it,” He said softly. “More than I should.”

“Think about what?”

A quiet, almost sad laugh escaped from his throat. He leaned back against the wall, staring up at the ceiling.

“How things used to be.”

“Oh,”

A moment passed, marked only by the metre of your incessant heartbeat pounding in your ears.

And then, “Do you ever miss us?” Joel asked.

You faced him once more. The answer was on the tip of your tongue, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say it. Because that was too complicated. Because that would break you.

Joel didn’t need you to say it. He found the answer in your eyes.

All the time.

Instead, you asked, “Do you? Miss us, that is.”

“Of course, I do.” He said softly. “More than you can imagine.”

You held your breath.

Joel heaved a sigh.

“I think about calling,” He added, voice low. “Just to hear your voice.”

“I’d answer,” You said, barely above a whisper.

He smiled in a bittersweet, melancholic sort of way and leaned in just slightly. Unconsciously, you mirrored him.

And then his eyes flickered down to your lips. It was only for a second, but it was enough to make your stomach flutter.

This was dangerous. You should’ve told him to leave ages ago. Or, maybe you should’ve left yourself and gone on your date.

But you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away.

“Can I ask you something stupid?” You whispered.

Joel whispered back, “Always.”

“Do you…” You trailed off, biting your lip.

“Do I what?”

“Do you—does even a part of you… want what we had back?”

You knew what he was going to say. You just wanted to hear it for yourself.

And you did.

“Yes,” He admitted earnestly.

You searched his face for any sign of deception, but found none. The only thing in his coffee-brown eyes was regret. And, maybe, something else, too. Something softer.

Your eyes widened. “We fought a lot.”

“We did.”

“And we probably said some shit.” You sighed, looking up at the ceiling, as if all the answers were written there. Joel did, too.

His voice came softly, sadly, “We did.”

Silence again. Thick and fragile and charged with so many unspoken words.

Joel’s knee brushed yours, neither of you pulling away. It was nice to have him close, to feel his familiar warmth, to see him—really see him. Bare and raw and vulnerable. No false facades of indifference. No hiding behind closed car doors. Just Joel, your Joel, there beside you; soft-eyed and quiet, like maybe he was seeing you, too.

Your fingers twitched on the floor beside his. You wanted to reach for him, but you wanted him to reach first.

He looked at you then. Not a glance, but a full turn, slow and deliberate. His dark eyes searched your face, pausing on your mouth, your cheek, your lashes, then settled on your eyes again. He looked at you like you were something he’d spent months trying to forget, and only just now remembered why he couldn’t.

You held your breath.

Joel’s voice, when it finally came, was low, cracked around the edges.

“I know it was bad in the end, but I meant what I said.” He breathed. “I miss us. I miss you.”

Your heart twisted. And there went that cleaver again, slicing further.

“I miss seeing your keys on the kitchen counter and knowing you were home. I miss kissing you before work and smudgin’ your lipstick. I miss watching stupid movies with you that we’d fall asleep to halfway.”

His throat bobbed. He leaned back against the wall, like it hurt to say it out loud.

“Yeah, we fought and said some real mean shit. But God help me, I’d give anything to go back in time and fight for you like I should have. Because you were it for me. You were everything. Still are.”

His eyes glistened as he held your gaze, fierce and unflinching.

“Because, no matter how hard I try to ignore it,” He smiled to himself, shaking his head like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I love you.”

He loves you.

Those three simple words rang in an echo in your mind. He loves you, he loves you, Joel loves you.

“You love me?” You could barely hear your voice above the deafening thrum of your pulse.

Your faces were barely an inch apart, now. You could smell the familiar scent of his laundry detergent, and traces of his cologne, and wood, and tobacco, and something that was so uniquely him.

Joel nodded.

“I never stopped.” He whispered.

Without thinking, you closed the remaining distance, smashing your lips against his. Joel grunted in surprise, but quickly gave in, exhaling through his nose like he’d been holding a breath in for years.

He returned the kiss with equal fervour, reaching out to cup your face and pouring all his pent-up emotions against the haven of your lips—longing, relief, desire.

You pushed yourself closer against him. Closer, impossibly closer, until you were straddling his lap, moving against the tent in his jeans, feeling his big hands instinctively settle on your hips, and tasting the Pinot Noir on his lips.

Shit. Was this even a good idea?

You pulled away suddenly. A tiny whine came from Joel, who tried to chase your mouth, but you were insistent.

“Wait,” You panted.

His eyes opened fully. His brows were knitted, his lips were kiss-swollen, and his chest was heaving slowly.

“What?” Joel asked quietly, his thumbs idly tracing circles on either side of your hips.

“This…” You breathed. “I don’t want this to be a one-time thing. I don’t want it to mean nothing.”

Joel smiled softly at your words.

“Means a whole lot to me, sweetheart.” His hand went to gently tuck a stray strand of your hair behind your ear, caressing your cheek in his wake. “We can talk about what this means, if you w—”

“Okay, good. Means a lot. Talk after.”

“After?” His eyebrows rose.

“After you fuck me.”

A breathy ‘Jesus Christ’ slipped from his throat, but Joel didn’t spend a second refusing your bold assumption.

With a hand on your nape, he leaned forward to capture your lips in another searing kiss, which you happily accepted, sighing against him.

His big hands then travelled to the back of your thighs, and the next thing you knew, he carelessly swept away whatever was decorating the base of your faucet, and carried you with ease to perch you atop the sink.

“Joel.” You mumbled urgently into his lips.

“Mmm?” He hummed back, not wanting to break your mouths apart for even a second.

“Might break the sink again.”

“Don’t care. I’ll fuckin’ fix it again, then. Just… need you,” Joel groaned. “Look too fuckin’ good,”

And he pulled away. His half-lidded, cloudy gaze drank you in, sweeping down the snugness of your dress, and lingering on the generous amount of cleavage it revealed. His hands drifted higher and higher up your thighs, until they reached the hemline—dipping under just slightly.

“Too fuckin’ good,” He snarled.

You smirked. Knowing him, he was definitely going to ask if—

“How much was this dress?”

Sighing amusedly, “It wasn’t cheap.”

“How attached are you to it?” He mumbled, a hand reverently skirting up to your hip.

“A moderate amou—”

“Can I rip it off you?”

There it was.

In the many years you were married, Joel shredded more than enough articles of your precious wardrobe in similar heated moments. If you were to count the offences, you’d likely run out of fingers. Your wedding dress had been among the few survivors of his destructive tendencies, though not for lack of trying on his part.

You stifled a snort and shook your head, reaching up to caress his face.

“No.” You smiled. “Because I’d like to wear it again.”

Joel held your hand against his face and huffed out an exaggerated sigh. “Next time.”

And then his hands found the zipper on your side, pulled it sharply down, and tugged the dress off you.

His eyes darkened.

You had chosen to don an intricate, black, lacey number underneath your dress that teased just enough and only hid the bare minimum. Of course, you had. You hadn’t had an opportunity to wear anything vaguely provocative in ages and were expecting some luck after your date.

You certainly didn’t expect that your ex-husband would be the one seeing it.

“This for him?” Joel’s lip twitched.

Heat rose in your cheeks. “Well, I—”

“Yeah, these don’t get a pass.”

With a sharp tearing noise slicing through the air, Joel ripped the flimsy lacey bra clean in half, watching intently, hungrily, as your tits spilled out.

“Joel!”

“I know, I know,” Joel grunted. “I’ll buy you a new set… buy you all the fuckin’ sets.”

You were about to object, intent on citing the price attached to that particular pair, but Joel had sunk back on his knees and spread your legs apart.

He pressed his lips on your inner thigh, scruff tickling your skin as he slowly, softly trailed his mouth upward, leaving goosebumps in his wake.

His face came to a stop in front of your core, noticing how heavily you were breathing, and his eyes flicked up to yours, smirking. Smug fucking bastard.

“Joel.” You gritted your teeth.

“Yeah, baby?”

“Don’t fucking tease me.”

And he leaned his forehead against the lower part of your navel, taking a second to breathe in the unmistakable scent of your arousal seeping through your lingerie.

He was practically salivating, now.

“I’ll try not to, ma’am.”

Without another word, he took the lace into his teeth, yanked his head sharply, and tore your panties open.

Confirming his suspicions, you were absolutely soaked. Slick drooled freely out of your puffy folds, taunting him and draining every ounce of self-restraint he had.

Fuck, you were gorgeous.

“Tell me,” Joel said lowly, meeting your gaze once more as a thick finger swiped lightly through your lips, collecting your arousal. “This for him or me?”

“You.” You breathed without a second thought.

“Louder, sweetheart. My ears ain’t what they used to be.”

“You.”

Smirking wider, “damn fucking right.”

Then, he happily hitched your legs over his shoulders, leaned forward, and dove in.

His tongue prodded into your heat, dragging down your walls and sending jolts of electricity down your spine. He worked fast and sloppily, sliding through your folds and flicking into your walls, urgently tasting you like he wouldn’t get another chance.

Your arousal coated the lower half of his face, obscenely wet noises echoed in the silence of the tiled room as his tongue eagerly devoured you whole—

“Fuck, almost forgot how good you taste. So fuckin’ sweet.” Joel mumbled against your sex, entirely, wholly bewitched. “She missed me, too, huh? Just drippin’ for me…”

He continued to furiously lap at your entrance, scruff rubbing against your inner thighs. And then he moved up, planting messy kisses higher and higher until he reached your swollen clit.

You gasped brokenly, flinging a hand to grasp his curls as his lips alternated from pressing messy kisses along your seam to greedily sucking at your bundle of nerves, latching onto it almost desperately.

After a particularly delicious drag down the roof of your core, you rolled your hips up into his mouth and brought him closer to you with your grip in his hair.

“Shit—sorry.” You panted, breathing heavily.

He barely pulled away to look at you.

“Don’t fuckin’ be. I can handle it, you know I can.” Joel all but growled, before returning to attend to your needy fucking pussy.

He was like a man possessed; lapping frenziedly, groaning lowly into your sensitive skin, curved nose swiping through your folds as he worked.

Very soon, a familiar tingle in your lower stomach introduced itself.

“Joel,” You called urgently, attempting to warn him.

He knew you were close. Oh, he knew. So, he went faster and harder, pressing himself further against you, suffocation be fucking damned.

His low, wrecked voice came slurred and slightly muffled by your sex, “y’gonna come? Go on, baby, all over my face—thaaat’s it.”

A shattered moan escaped from your throat, and you felt your release take over your body almost violently. You couldn’t help the way your legs clamped down around his head, but Joel loved it, letting you smother him and humming happily into your heat as he worked you through your climax, swallowing your release and eating like a man starved.

Finally, he pulled away with a wet squelch, softly pressed a kiss to your inner thigh, and gently let your legs down.

And you were immediately greeted with the sight of his lower face shining with your slick.

A good look on him, if you’d say so yourself.

He smiled lazily, eyes blown-out and absolutely fucking pussydrunk.

“That good for you, sweetheart?” He mused.

“You, Joel Miller, are what we call a munch.” You smiled back.

Pride bloomed across his face. “Gladly, sweets.”

And you pulled him up by the collar of his flannel shirt into a filthy kiss, tasting your arousal on his lips.

He let his eyes fall shut and reached up to curl a hand around your jaw as he returned the kiss, his brows furrowed in concentration.

Not wasting any time, your hands flew to his belt, blindly fumbling at the leather material to slide it out of the loops of his jeans.

Joel chuckled, leaning forward to trail his lips down your neck, leaving a path of open-mouthed kisses.

“Need somethin’, baby?”

“Wanna return the favour,” You glanced down at the bulge in his lap.

“Mm-mm. That was more for me than you. Missed your sweet fuckin’ pussy.” Joel mumbled against your pulse point.

“Munch.” You couldn’t help but giggle.

“Yeah, yeah.” Joel sighed, lifting his head and undoing his jeans just barely enough to pull himself free from his boxers.

You heard yourself swallow.

Joel Miller was a big man, and you were very aware of that fact. It was written all across his body; from his impossibly broad shoulders, to his beefy arms, to his thick fucking cock.

He stroked himself, once, twice, as his eyes fell to your pulsating, slick core. Beads of precum leaked from his flushed tip and down his length as he did so.

“Spread those legs wider for me, baby. Let me see you,” He breathed lowly.

And you very willingly obliged.

“There’s my girl,” Joel hummed.

With a hand around his base, he guided himself closer to your drooling cunt, nudging his swollen head against you.

Sighing, “Deep breath, baby.”

And he slowly forced himself in, one hand on the small of your back, the other on the underside of your thigh, prompting you to wrap your legs around his waist as he steadily fed you his cock.

You gasped some variant of a plea.

Needless to say, he was a tight fucking fit.

“Takin’ me so well. That’s it, baby, let me in.” He blabbed mindlessly as he continued to sink deeper inside.

Deeper, deeper, deeper…

He winced. “Shit—there you go.”

When all of him was nested inside your welcoming channel, he let out a gasped expletive at the sensation.

Full. You felt so full with him inside. You always did.

“Fuck, missed this.” Joel panted, resting his forehead against yours.

You tried to echo the sentiment, but the only thing you were capable of doing was letting out an incoherent groan of his name.

Joel got the message, though.

Maintaining an unhurried tempo, he rolled his hips back and forth, slowly dragging his thickness against your walls, making you painfully aware of every last inch of him.

“How’s that feel, baby?” He mumbled, voice airy.

“Good. Feels so good.”

And, fuck, he did.

He felt amazing.

His tempo soon picked up, leaving your mouth to fall open as you took every inch of him again and again, stretching you open with enough pleasure to dull the slight pain.

“Tell me,” Joel hummed as he continued to drive ceaselessly in and out of your tight channel, adopting a false lilt of indifference. “Who’s fuckin’ you so good, huh?”

An incoherent syllable slipped from your lips.

“Who, baby?” Joel urged you, unrelenting in his pace. “Sure as hell ain’t fuckin’ Mark.”

Dumbly, you shook your head.

“You, Joel.”

Your words were almost drowned out by the symphony of your own moans, which were accompanied by the obscenely wet slaps that sounded every time his hips fully met yours.

“Louder.” He snarled, punctuating his response with an intentionally rough ram. “Neighbours can’t hear you yet, c’mon.”

“You, Joel!”

Satisfied, his hands went to hold you by your waist, keeping you as still as possible as he drove insistently into you, his tip now kissing your cervix with every thrust.

You cried out at the feeling, nails raking down his back.

Heat pooled in your gut, your vision blurred, a high-pitched ringing almost deafened your ears.

“Joel, Joel, I’m…” You babbled.

“Close? Go on, gorgeous. Let me feel you choke my dick.”

With his blessing, his name left your mouth in a high-pitched scream, and you felt yourself clench around his throbbing length as your orgasm rippled across your body like an earthquake.

Joel, being the overachiever he was, didn’t stop for even a second until your breathing slowed and your eyes fluttered open again.

And, once he saw that you had recovered, he leaned forward to slant his mouth against yours, swallowing your sighs.

“You okay?” He mumbled into the kiss, barely breaking away.

“Yeah.” You exhaled.

He smiled against your lips.

“Good. Almost there, baby. Gonna take you against the sink, now, and you’re gonna give me one more, how’s that sound?”

You nodded dreamily, feeling him slowly pull out.

He leaned back and, with his hands on your waist, delicately set you down.

“Turn ‘round for me, sweetheart.”

You acquiesced without hesitation, bracing yourself on the porcelain countertop.

Joel hummed, kicked your legs open even wider, and, not long after, sank the entirety of his cock into you in one deep thrust.

A sharp breath hit the air behind you, and an airy ‘fuck’ followed it. This angle made him feel bigger, if that was even possible.

He didn’t wait long after that. He couldn’t. Overcome with the need to feel you, he started moving. The first thrust was slow. Experimental. The second was hard. The third was harder.

Before you knew it, his big hands found a home on your hips, and he began to drive roughly into you, as if making up for lost time.

He certainly proved he was willing to atone for his absence, thrust after thrust.

“Oh, look at you.” Joel tutted and pulled your hair to tilt your head upwards.

You came face to face with the woman in the bathroom mirror.

Somewhere in between thrusts, your mouth had fallen agape, letting loose a long whine of pleasure, which was stuttered by every slam of his hips against yours.

Your hair was frizzy, your face was flushed, your hooded gaze was flooded with desire, and a light sheen of sweat doused every inch of your skin.

You were a wreck, thanks to the man fucking you so well behind you.

“Eyes up here.” Joel sighed. “Keep ‘em open. Gotta watch how well you take me.”

Joel was even more of a sight.

The top few buttons of his flannel were undone, his sleeves were haphazardly rolled up, his hair was wild, and the look on his weathered face was nothing short of territorial as he held you to him and fucked you with reckless abandon.

Your eyes fell to where your bodies were connected, hypnotised by how easily his tanned cock disappeared in and out of your puffy cunt.

Again.

And again.

The corners of his lips were coyly upturned when he cooed, “Don’t we look good, baby?”

You could only respond in broken syllables.

“Yeah,” He grunted. Then, after a particularly forceful thrust, “we do.”

He continued to ram into you, finding your cervix with each thrust, keeping his eyes trained on the mirror, fixated on how your tits bounced so prettily for him.

“Beautiful.” He whispered, jaw tight.

If your brain hadn’t been turned to mush after the two orgasms he forced out of you, you would’ve heard him. But all you were focused on was the rush of another climax approaching.

You gripped the countertop harder and gritted your teeth, feeling warmth collecting in your stomach and bracing yourself for impact.

As if reading your mind, Joel’s hand moved from your hip to your front, trailing down until he brushed your clit, rubbing sloppy semi-cricles and whispering sweet things as you whimpered.

“You gonna give me one more?” He murmured sweetly, his nose nudging the side of your face.

You could only manage an open-mouthed nod.

His fingers sped in their motions, swiping at your clit feverishly as he continued to rut into you, grazing your cervix each time.

Again. And again.

“Come for me, sweetheart. I’ll catch you.” He whispered gently.

Your jaw slackened, your heartbeat quickened, and, in a blinding flash of pleasure, you came with his name on your tongue, helpless to the throes of your climax.

“There you go. Shit… so good for me.” Joel groaned. And then, urgently, “Where—where do you want me to–?”

Not even a full second later, “inside.”

“You sure?” He panted, starstruck.

“I have an IUD, just—please.”

He didn’t reply. Instead, he pressed closer, his chest flush against your back, letting you feel every shaky pull of his breath as he caged you in. His hands found yours at the edge of the sink, lacing over them gently. His head dropped beside yours, his forehead nearly touching your temple, and a warm breath fanned across your skin as he sighed.

And then he resumed his earlier pace.

He rammed into you hard and fast, chasing his own release as if it were a life-or-death situation. And all you could do was take it.

After a dozen more jerky thrusts, his breath caught in his throat and, with a low curse, he came. Hot ropes of his spend spilled inside you, and he rode it out until he couldn’t give you any more, which took a few more lazy rolls of his hips.

His breath evened not long after, warm and steady against your browbone. Soothing, almost.

Gently, he pulled out of you, and you felt his come slowly drip down your thighs.

“Fuck,” He breathed, pressing a soft kiss to your hair, scruff rubbing against your crown as he did so.

And he bowed his head to rest it on the crook of your neck.

“That was great, George.” You panted.

Joel snorted tiredly. “Just couldn’t help yourself, huh?”

“Nope.”

He huffed out a chuckle.

Then, he languidly pressed a trail of open-mouthed kisses wherever his lips could reach. You couldn’t help the smile that stretched across your face.

A warm, fuzzy sort of feeling radiated from his touch, lulling you into a state of bliss. It felt like love; it felt like coming home.

Joel mumbled something unintelligible against your shoulder.

“What?” You replied, breaking free from your trance.

“I said,” He pulled away and, with two fingers on your chin, tenderly turned your face to look at him. His voice was wrecked and so very earnest when he finally repeated himself. “Don’t send the papers. Please.”

He held the rest of his plea in his eyes in the way they shone with a certain sincerity.

You smiled softly and shook your head. Because you knew you never really had any intention to. Because you wanted to hold on to him. And you were glad he wanted to hold on to you, too.

Your lips found his. Gentle, delicate, a reassurance. He gave in to the kiss almost immediately, sighing into your mouth.

“I won’t.”

And you meant it.

thanks for reading!!! reqs are open, if you wanna send an idea or anything over :)

🏷️: @whaddupbaby, @pedritodowney08, @martuxduckling, @aadhinagony, @lanabobana, @pedr0swh0r3, @romancherry, @strawberriesandhotmen, @streamermattsgf, @bonneyzsk, @worhols, @serendippindots, @paprikainfurs, @lanternnightgarden, @12vamppp, @savvyisss, @umadirectioner, @tinawantstobeadoll, @not-the-teen-witch, @wundagre, @im-nowhere-but-also-somewhere, @guelyury, @joelspickle, @callofdiva, @hotnmad, @brightestxxwitch, @pearl-diver-m, @kungfucapslock, @hellokittyyloverrrr, @meganfoxismywife, @natalieispunk, @billionairecowgirl, @my-tearsricochet

6K notes · View notes

joeldarling · 18 days ago

Note

okay yay I would love to make a request then :) Could you do Joel coming home to find reader like crying as she’s looking at herself in the mirror because she’s been feeling insecure about her weight lately? (and then Joel ofc reassures her and makes her feel better and also says things like ‘ur healthy and fed now’ .etc.) 🥰🥰

No Fixin' Needed

Pairing: joel miller x fem!reader

Content warnings: established relationship, weight insecurities, comfort, comforting words, learning to self-love

Word Count: 1k

A/N: Thank you for the request. Hope everyone is kind to themselves today. Love yourself.

You muttered a curse under your breath, yanking open one drawer after another, clothes spilling out in careless piles. The room was a mess. Shirts half-folded, a sock dangling from the dresser’s edge. You were already late, and your favorite jeans were nowhere to be found.

With a huff, you swiped a hand down your face, your palm coming away damp with frustration. The clock on the nightstand glared back at you, its numbers a cruel reminder you were running out of time.

Then you spotted them — a crumpled heap of denim peeking out from the top of the laundry basket. You snatched them up, hesitated. They hadn’t been washed. Lifting them to your nose, you gave them a quick sniff. Not terrible.

You stepped into one leg, then the other, tugging them up. Then the real problem started.

The denim clung stubbornly to your thighs, tighter than you remembered. You wriggled, hopping awkwardly on one foot, trying to shimmy them up the rest of the way. When the button refused to meet its hole without a struggle, your stomach sank.

You turned toward the mirror. The overhead light was too harsh, highlighting every curve, every soft edge you’d been trying not to think about. You sucked in your stomach, trying to smooth the fabric with your hands, but the waistband still cut in too deep.

A sour taste filled your mouth. You kept staring, your reflection blurring at the edges as heat prickled behind your eyes. You told yourself it was fine. Maybe it was just a bad angle or a bad day?

Yet, your fingers dug into the soft flesh at your waist, pulling, smoothing, as if you could will it all away. You shifted your stance, tried angling your body, sucking in your stomach, but nothing looked right. The glass caught every unflattering line, every place you swore hadn’t been there before.

Your throat tightened. You blinked hard, but the sting behind your eyes was already there, rising faster than you could swallow it down.

“Darlin’?”

Joel’s voice floated up the stairs, casual at first, but the sound of his boots on the steps quickened when you didn’t answer.

He stopped in the doorway. His gaze landed on you. How your hands gripped your stomach, then your thighs, the hitch in your breath. Then he saw the tears in your eyes.

He was at your side in two strides.

“Hey,” he murmured with concern as his hand curled gently around your wrist, stilling your fingers where they tugged at yourself. “What’s goin’ on?”

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out—just a shaky breath.

He stepped in closer, his broad frame crowding out the rest of the room. His hands came up, one brushing your hair back behind your ear, the other settling against your waist. The very place you’d been tearing yourself apart over.

“C’mere,” he said softly, turning you toward him, away from the mirror. His thumb brushed the corner of your eye where a tear had slipped free.

“I ain’t gonna pretend to know what’s goin’ through that head of yours right now,” he said, eyes searching yours. “But I do know this. You’re the most beautiful damn thing I’ve ever laid eyes on. Always have been. Nothin’ about you needs fixin’, you hear me?”

You tried to laugh, but it cracked halfway out, your chin trembling as you stared down at yourself.

“But… the jeans,” you managed, voice catching on the words. “They don’t fit like they did a week ago, Joel. They’re my favorite pair.”

Your fingers plucked at the waistband, the denim too tight against your stomach. The tears came faster now, hot and uninvited.

“I’ve gained weight,” you whispered, like it was a confession, a secret you’d been trying to outrun. “My stomach’s soft, and my thighs—” you shook your head, blinking hard, unable to finish.

“Hey now,” he murmured, his hand slid up to cup your cheek, thumb stroking a slow, steady line along your skin. “Ain’t gonna let you talk about my girl like that. Not in my house.”

“You listen to me,” Joel said, his brow furrowing as he caught your gaze, making sure you heard every word. “I don’t give a damn what them jeans say. Don’t give a damn what a number on a tag says. You’re beautiful, darlin’. Always have been. Nothin’ ‘bout you that ain’t worth lovin’.”

Joel leaned his forehead against yours, his hand still cupping your cheek. “Bodies change. Life gets heavy. We get older, softer in places. Ain’t a thing wrong with that. Means we’re still here. Means you’re still mine.”

The room was quiet but for the sound of your unsteady breathing and the steady beat of his words.

“You could wear a damn paper bag and I’d still look at you like you hung the damn moon,” he said, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, trying to coax one from you too.

And somehow, despite yourself, you did.

He felt it, the way your face softened beneath his hand, and he kissed your forehead, a soft press of lips against skin.

“C’mon,” Joel murmured, his thumb brushing away the last of your tears. “Forget them jeans. I’ll find you somethin’ else. Or hell — we don’t gotta go anywhere. Could stay right here, just us.”

“Okay.” You softly replied. The storm in your chest hadn’t vanished, but it wasn’t thrashing quite so hard anymore.

His words lingered, wrapping around the parts of you you’d been picking apart.

You pulled in a shaky breath, feeling the weight of his forehead against yours. Then slowly, you turned your head, your eyes flicking back toward the mirror.

The reflection hadn’t changed.

The jeans were still too tight. Your stomach was still soft, thighs still touching, but Joel was there now, too. His broad frame behind you, his hand resting over the place you’d hated a minute ago, his thumb drawing a slow, absent-minded circle against your side. You saw the way he was looking at you, as if nothing about you needed fixing.

You exhaled and let your palm settle over his, holding it there against your waist. Your gaze met your own in the mirror — eyes puffy, hair a little messy, face still flushed from crying.

You looked at yourself.

“I guess…” You started, your voice quiet, but steadier now. “Guess it’s just me. And that’s okay.”

Joel’s grip on you tightened, his mouth brushing against the side of your head. “Damn right it is.”

A faint, wobbly smile tugged at your lips — not because he said it, but because, somehow, you started to feel it.

You straightened your shoulders a little, wiped your face with the back of your hand, and met your reflection again. Still you. A little softer. A little stronger, and you decided you were done being cruel to her.

“You sure you still wanna be seen with me in these jeans?” you teased.

Joel huffed out a soft laugh, one corner of his mouth lifting. “Darlin’, I’d be lucky to.”

220 notes · View notes

joeldarling · 22 days ago

Text

JAIL

never truly gone

pairings joel miller x reader

summary after a year of joel's death, the weight of his absence lingered, but in the quiet streets of jackson, amidst the fading light and the familiar strum of his guitar, you found him again—not in memory, but in something real, something whole, in the afterlife.

tags pure sadness, you and joel together with sarah reunite. heavily unedited.

masterlist

the pain was unbearable. it wrapped around you like a vice, suffocating, unrelenting. every breath came ragged, every movement slower than the last.

joel had been gone for a year. a whole year without him. you had fought to survive, fought to live in the world he left behind because that’s what he would have wanted.

you thought of joel’s house in jackson. it was warm then, before everything fell apart.

you could still see the soft glow of the evening sun slipping through the windows, casting golden light across the hardwood floors. that home was more than just walls and furniture.

it was laughter, late-night talks, love. it was joel.

you could almost hear his voice again, murmuring stories about sarah, the daughter he lost too soon, the wound he carried but never quite healed.

you remembered the way he traced the edges of her worn photograph, his fingers reverent.

"she had the brightest smile, lit up the whole damn place."

you had been careless. just for a moment. a single misstep in the chaos of the infected. as its rotting teeth sank deep into your arm before you could react.

the pain was sharp, burning, spreading like fire through your veins.

after much convincing, ellie pulled the trigger straight into your skull with very much pain and regret. you didn't want them to see you roaming around as an infected and of course they wouldn't want the same.

you opened your eyes and blinked, adjusting to the glow. you were back at jackson.

sarah.

the recognition was immediate.

she stood before you, her kind eyes filled with understanding. she was no longer just the girl in joel’s faded photograph. she was real.

"you’re finally here," she said gently.

your breath hitched, emotions flooding through you.

"sarah..." she stepped closer, reaching out. her touch was feather-light, grounding you in a way you hadn’t felt in a long time. then, she smiled, a small, knowing smile.

"ever since my dad arrived, he’s talked about you nonstop. about how much you meant to him, how much he loved you." she paused, laughing softly, eyes glimmering. "he told me i’d like you."

your throat tightened, unable to process the weight of those words.

"and do you?"

sarah’s fingers tightened around yours, comforting. "i already do."

"we’ve been watching you, you know. dad and i. every day."

your breath caught in your throat. she continued, her voice soft with affection.

"even when you thought you were alone, you weren’t. dad wouldn’t let that happen. i wouldn’t let that happen."

tears welled in your eyes.

then, from somewhere ahead, the faint strum of a guitar floated through the air.

you stopped. sarah did too.

the sound was familiar, achingly so. the melody was slow, deliberate, each chord stretching into the next like a whispered confession. it was joel’s song. the one he always played when he thought no one was listening.

sarah’s breath hitched, her fingers tightening around yours.

"it’s him," she whispered.

the two of you followed the sound, drawn to it like a pulse, like a lifeline. the notes grew clearer, richer, guiding you through the winding streets until you finally saw him—joel, sitting on the porch, his guitar resting comfortably against his leg, fingers plucking at the strings like it was second nature.

he looked up, meeting your gaze. the music didn’t stop.

sarah squeezed your hand, smiling softly.

"dad’s been waiting for you," she murmured.

your throat tightened, everything inside you unraveling at once.

joel gave you that familiar, knowing look—warm, steady, grounding. and as the song carried on, winding through the quiet of jackson, you realized—

he had never really left. not in the ways that mattered. not in the ways that counted.

"hey, sweetheart."

the sound shattered you. a choked sob escaped, your body moving before you could think. you stumbled toward him, eyes blurring, heart pounding.

he stood up and caught you, holding you tight, gripping the back of your head like he couldn’t bear to let go.

"i’m here," he murmured, voice thick with emotion.

"i’ve been waiting for you."

your fingers curled into his shirt, your whole body trembling.

"i tried so hard, joel. i tried to stay strong, but it was" your voice broke "it was so damn hard without you." joel swallowed hard, his grip tightening.

"i know, sweetheart. i know."

you pulled back, looking into his eyes, searching for something, confirmation that this wasn’t just another dream, another cruel trick of your mind.

"i missed you so much," you whispered, voice barely holding together. joel exhaled shakily, lifting a hand to brush your hair back like he’d done so many times before.

"i missed you too. more than i can ever say." his hand trembled as he cupped your face, thumb running gently over your cheek, wiping away the tears you couldn’t hold back

"i hated watching you struggle," joel whispered. "seeing you hurt, alone. every day, i wanted to pull you into my arms, tell you it was gonna be okay."

"you wouldn’t let me give up, would you?"

joel shook his head, smiling through his own tears.

"damn right i wouldn’t."

sarah stepped beside him, looking at you with warmth. "see? told you he wouldn’t shut up about you."

joel chuckled softly, squeezing your arms. "she’s not wrong."

you blinked at him, overwhelmed by everything, the love, the pain, the relief.

"i thought i’d never see you again," you whispered. joel’s expression softened, voice rough with love. "you always were stubborn." he pulled you close again, resting his chin on the top of your head.

"but i told you, didn’t i? i’m never really gone." you let out a shaky breath, closing your eyes against his warmth, against the safety of him.

then, joel pulled back slightly, holding your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away your tears. his gaze was soft, filled with quiet affection.

"smile for me," he murmured.

the words broke you completely.

you let out a choked laugh between the tears, shaking your head. "i can’t."

joel tilted his head, giving you that familiar, teasing look, the one you thought you’d never see again.

"yeah, you can." his forehead rested against yours, his voice no more than a whisper.

"you always could."

you tried. tried for him. tried for sarah. tried for yourself. and as your lips curled into the smallest, most fragile smile,

joel exhaled shakily, relief pouring into his expression.

"there she is," he said. but instead of letting go, his arms tightened around you.

"we’re finally together," joel whispered, his voice trembling.

sarah stepped forward, tears shining in her eyes, looking between the two of you.

without hesitation, she wrapped her arms around both of you, pressing herself into the embrace.

joel held you both like he never planned to let go again.

after all the loss, you were whole again. and this time, nothing would take him away from you.

349 notes · View notes

joeldarling · 25 days ago

Text

A Man Called Joel - Snippet

well, since i'm putting myself through hell right now, i thought i would share some of my pain with you all because 🥲 my heart can't take this. here's a snippet of part 3 of A MAN CALLED JOEL, where joel and ellie start fighting 😭

Fifteen minutes earlier...

“You’re very late, Ellie,” Joel reproached, arms folded at the top of the steps.

He fought to keep his tone steady, he hated doing this. He’d been worried sick all night, wondering where Ellie was. The catastrophist in him had already imagined every single scenario where she’d be hurt or left for dead in a trench. He’d felt so anxious for the last three hours, Joel had to set aside the carving he had been working on after messing it up twice.

Seeing her walking towards the house had filled him with an immense relief, his heart beating so fast he was afraid it would grow legs and run away. But dread quickly followed—the father in him couldn’t just sweep it under the rug. Ellie needed to be reminded of the rules. And she’d put up a fight, make him the bad guy.

And despite being okay with becoming the villain in her story, it still hurt him. A wound so deep that his heart was splintering, because he didn’t really want to do it. Didn’t want to grow further apart from her, the abyss between them so big now it seemed insurmountable. Their relationship was almost beyond repair—he was painfully aware of it—and telling her off for coming home late would only complicate it more.

But he couldn’t just ignore it. He had to do something.

Ellie’s shoulders dropped as she walked past him towards the garage, blatantly disregarding his presence.

Another chink in his already hollering heart.

“Ellie, I’m talking to you,” he raised his voice, warring with himself to keep a calm demeanour. “It’s past two in the morning. You should have come home at least three hours ago.”

Ellie stopped right in her tracks, turning around to face him. The despise in her eyes was as fiery as it was seven months ago when she learnt the truth. And despite the passage of time, it hurt all the same, if not more.

“Who do you think you are to control my every move?” She hissed between gritted teeth, cocking a querying brow.

Your father, was the innate response that burnt the tip of his tongue. Joel fought back the words, knowing full well they would only aggravate the situation.

“What? Do you really think you’re my dad?” Ellie scoffed loudly, an instigating smile curling her mouth.

58 notes · View notes

joeldarling · 26 days ago