#Joel X Reader

[milla-frenchy]

10MG

1k0 | Joel Miller x fem reader | ao3 Warnings: 18+ mdni. consensual somnophilia, dirty talk, piv, creampie

a/n: same couple: 5 days collection, but can be read alone Thank you @aurorawritestoescape for beta reading 💕😘

Masterlist

***********

Joel woke up in the middle of the night, feeling warmth against his torso and lower stomach. Your back was against his chest, your bare ass nestled against his crotch, your breathing slow. Deep asleep, he thought.

You both fell asleep while his soft and soothed cock was still inside you, his cum dripping from your pussy to the sheets. He always hoped to wake up still buried in you, and to feel his length growing inside your core. Then his hips would resume their thrusts as if the night didn’t pass by.

But not today. Today, his cock was against your ass, out of you. Hard, already weeping. He was so fucking stiff that it was almost painful. He needed to plunge his shaft into your warmth, to feel it wrapped by your walls and squeezed by them. To be inside what was his.

“I need to fuck her, baby”, he said in your ear, his voice so low that even if you had been awake you probably wouldn't have heard him. He jerked his cock, still covered in your wetness and his cum, and nestled it at your still seeping hole. When his tip brushed against all that dampness, he grunted. God, you were so fucking hot.

“Shit, sweetheart, I can already stuff you with my cock.”

His other hand slipped under the sheets, in front of your pussy up to your folds, and his fingers helped him enter gently. “Oh fuck”, he grumbled, feeling your warmth surrounding him. He kept thrusting and didn’t stop, pressing the tips of his fingers against his shaft until your pussy swallowed him whole. You softly moaned. Over your head, he looked at the nightstand, the glass of water, the bottle of sleeping pills. His hand slid up to your breast and cupped it. How he wished he could have taken it in his mouth, and sucked your hard nipple. Fuck, just thinking about it made him even harder.

“ ’m gonna fuck you slow at first, don't wanna wake you up yet.”

He moved his hand down to your hip. Leaving the sheet on you, forcing himself to imagine every curve of your body under the fabric. 

Your pussy was taking his cock perfectly, as always. Made for him. He brushed his nose against your collarbone then the back of your neck, breathing in your scent, letting his soft mustache and beard brush against your skin, and you moaned again.

“Ya like it, uh? Letting me use ya whenever I want? Even while you’re sleeping, jesus…”, he whispered in your ear, even though you couldn’t hear him, and that turned him on even more. Your body was warm against his, and finally he removed the sheet that was covering you and the moon let him see the curves of your body.

“Fuck. You’re so hot, baby”, he murmured, caressing the skin on your hip. This time you moaned louder and he slowed down, whispering softly, his forehead against the back of your head "don't wake up sweetheart, please. Not yet. Let me use you a little more."

He moved his torso slightly away from your back, looking down at your ass, only being able to see the shadow of his cock sinking into you.

“Fully stuffed with my cock, shit. I like fucking you like that. Slowly. Feeling her.”

Every time he was pulling back, he wanted to thrust in roughly, cling to your hips, his fingers digging into your skin. Each time he stopped himself, wanting to keep you a little more for himself. Enjoying this moment when you let him fully use your body. Unaware of what he was doing, how he was doing it.

“She’s always ready to take this cock, mmm, baby? Always ready to get fuckin’ ruined.”

His breathing was speeding up, and he wondered how he was going to wake you up. Would he dive in suddenly like he was thinking about it for several minutes? Covering your mouth with his hand to prevent you from waking up the neighbors. 

Or would he thrust just a little harder, gripping your hip with more pressure. Lightly nibbling your shoulder.

“Fuck…taking it so good…”

He took your hand in his and pinned them to the sheets, intertwining his fingers with yours and leaned forward slightly. Diving his hips in yours again. “I love to fuck you when you’re asleep. Miss your mouth in these moments, but fuck…” 

He felt his cock twitch, and grunted to himself “don’t you fucking dare. Not yet.” He slowed the pace trying to calm down. “Fuck, this pussy is not even clenching me yet and I wanna shoot my load, damn.”

He slid his hand between your body and the bed, and rubbed your clit. “You’re gonna come in your sleep baby? Bet ya can do that for me.” He kissed your shoulder, burying himself ever so gently into you. “Come on, sweetheart, give it to me.” Your clit throbbed under his finger and your pussy clenched. “Yeah, just like that, baby. Squeeze me.” His cock twitched, ready to give in. “Just a little bit more….” He stroked your clit as patiently as ever, waiting for your release, then his own. He felt you flinch, and you barely had the time to stammer, “J…Joel? Oh fuck, I’m gonna…oh fuck!”

You came right after waking up, your pussy squeezing his shaft. He fucked you through your orgasm, praising you with his “good girl, soaking my cock,” until you felt him pulse, squirting his spurts of cum against your walls.

“Oh shit, Joel…” Your body was trembling in his arms as he was holding you tight against him, his orgasm exploding after all those whispers and slow thrusts. He held you against his sweaty body, unable to move.

“Sweetheart…”, he finally mumbled against the crook of your neck.

“I love when you’re using me”, you said, kissing his hand.

“I love it too, baby. She was still dripping, you know…ruining the sheets. Begging for me to fuck her.”

“I bet she was. That little slut”, you laughed and pinched him. You tried to turn around but he held you tighter.

“Can't leave this warmth baby. Let me fall asleep like this. I'll fuck you again in a couple of hours. Ok?”

He kissed your neck.

You nodded, but thought that you’d love to fuck yourself slowly on his shaft while he was asleep, and feel him grow inside you.

****************

Same couple: 5 days collection

***************

Thank you for reading 🙏

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated ❤️

Follow @millafics and turn notifications on for fics updates

@pascalsanctuary @littlemisspascal @survivingandenduring

[ovaryacted]

MDNI/18+. NSFW. | CW: Joel Miller x fem! reader; smut WC: 1.0k

I don’t know where I was going with this but it just came to mind on the fly and I felt the need to share before I went to bed so yeah. We are simply here for the vibes.

It was a mistake initiating this, that much you knew but you stopped giving a fuck after the second beer you downed. The transitions from point A at the Tipsy Bison to somewhere else for Point B seemed like a blur, a stop-motion film of your bad decisions playing before you on an endless loop.

Not that you cared enough to stop and watch.

Strong calloused hands dug into the skin of your thighs, nails pressing into the thick muscle and pulling you forward, ever closer. Needy fingers reached downward between your legs to grip onto graying curls and tugged with a soft yank, the other gripped on the old sheets underneath that smelled faintly of pinewood.

You could hear him, the loud slurping bordering on obnoxious with the circular movements of his tongue against your cunt. His grip was harsh if it wasn’t deprived, and as your heart pounded in your chest you finally opened your eyes to look at the culprit.

Joel Miller.

They warned you that he was dangerous, a man of terrifying stature. You heard stories about him in passing as if he were some folktale told to scare the children before bed, envisioning a boogeyman without a soul. It wasn’t until you arrived at Jackson and met him face-to-face on your third assigned patrol that you realized just how wrong they were.

Sure, the warnings matched somewhat. He was ruthless, a man with impenetrable skin despite the multitude of scars you counted from afar. You watched in awe at how efficiently he could bring down a clicker, or how the blade of his knife stained with crimson as he cut through a raider’s throat from behind.

There was a darkness in him, reminiscent of someone who had been tormented by his own demons for years. In a world like this where one already had so little, you took what you could get, and this wasn’t any different. He commanded any room he was in even if it were unintentional, it simply came with his reputation.

Joel made his bed years ago, and now he has to lie in it. But with you lying alongside him, the sentiment was preferable.

It should scare you, the twisted edge you could feel wash over him in waves with every step he took. You spotted it earlier when he walked through the doors of the bar and quietly sat himself down towards the far end. The last thing that should’ve happened was you striking up a conversation, attempting to grab his attention.

That darkness shone bright like a beacon in the night, and you were merely a moth to a flame.

“Oh fuck,” you moaned out loud, guiding his head right where you needed him and shifting your hips against the faded cut on the bridge of his nose.

He groaned against you and sucked harder at your clit, fingers working in tandem to bring you closer to the precipice and drink more of you. You tasted better than the stale beer he drank, and he ignored the bubbling guilt tearing at his gut by digging his face into you with an intense hunger.

Joel didn’t know how this happened, not that he was complaining. One minute, you were talking to him with a mischievous twinkle in your eyes that sent all the blood in his body drifting South. The next, he found himself plucking at the top of your shirt, meshing his lips hard against your mouth and grinding his hips with force.

Regardless of his rough exterior, he was a weak man to your charm and intrigue, and perhaps that constituted him as a selfish one too. But in this reality, the only thing one could do was take and take and take.

Another soft cry filled the four walls of his bedroom, huffs of your breath on par with the flicks of his tongue against your aching core. You were so close you could taste it, the pleasant contrast of Joel’s facial hair rubbing into your pussy making you crave more. You silently hoped to leave your mark and claim him for yourself, praying that he could still feel your presence when you left in the morning.

Two fingers thrust into you then, back arching off of the bed at the intrusion. They curved into a come hither motion, finding that hidden spot tucked away inside you with shocking precision, focusing all of their attention on pressing right there nonstop.

“Joel,” a broken gasp of his name drew his blackened hazel eyes to take in the bliss written over your features. He hummed in acknowledgment, trained ears playing the sound of your voice endlessly in his head. He couldn’t get enough, and from the way your lower stomach flexed, he knew you were about to cum by his touch.

“C’mon, give it to me sweetheart,” it was an order, a command, a dying man’s last wish. You couldn’t help but oblige.

Your thighs shook on his shoulders the moment your release hit, hands clutching at his scalp as he ripped one final moan from your throat. A feeling you’ve almost long forgotten coursed through you from the balls of your feet to the very top of your head. Like a tide hitting the shore, it flowed over you in calming motions until the water stilled and the pleasure simmered into numbness.

Joel placed a soft kiss against your twitching pussy one last time as you basked in the aftershocks, kissing your thighs and hip and trailing a path up your body before his lips met your own. You could taste yourself on the entirety of his upper lip, and as he grinned at you, your gaze held the same satisfaction he carried.

Who knew a bad idea could have such a pretty face?

©️ ovaryacted 2024. Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI. Support your fellow creators by reblogging, commenting, and liking!

[infectedbypedropascal]

boyfriend I’m unwell ❤️‍🔥

[auteurdelabre]

AS LONG AS YOU WANT (Part 3 - FINAL) Joel!Miller x f!Reader

chapter summary: The truth comes out

tags: enemies to lovers, miscommunication trope, fluff, HEA

a/n: This shit is fluffy AF y'all. A little love letter to the sweetheart that sent me a donation (I won't name ya unless you want me to!) that really touched me. I think it's a fitting finale to our sweet little story that all began as a gift to my heart @katiexpunk.

series masterlist here

AS LONG AS YOU WANT PART III

The next morning the door is pushed open without so much as a knock. You're elevated on your back, feeling every touch of pain that crackles along your body. Your head is throbbing and you need to pee so badly it hurts. 

"Who is it?"

"Me," a young voice replies, accompanied by the sound of boots being kicked off and a jacket being hung over a chair. 

"Come in," you call. "I'd offer you a drink but I can barely fucking move."

"Yeah, I heard."

Your eyes go to the door frame to see Ellie entering with an armful of snow-flicked books. Her cheeks are pink from the cold. 

"What are you doing here?"

"Joel sent me," Ellie explains, pulling the chair next to your bed so you can look at her easier. "Wanted me to drop this off."

She places a gently clattering container of pain pills on your bedside table. You hold in a growl of irritation.

"I don't need those."

"Joel says that if you say that then I'm supposed to tell you that he's already gone today to get the Teton Village medicine so you can take these ones now."

Joel went on patrols in this weather? You can see the blustery day from your bedroom window, can hear the strong winds on your roof. Your face contorts into a confused scowl. 

"But the s-"

"He also says for me to remind you that he's a good rider," Ellie says imitating his deep rasp, amusement in her young teenage face. "And that he knows how to handle the fuckin' snow."

Ellie smiles broadly, amused at your momentarily awed reaction. 

You scoff. "Anything else?"

"Yeah," Ellie smiles. "He says not to miss his handsome face too much while he's gone."

You feel a heat go to your cheeks as you pretend to laugh along with her. His voice echoes in your mind. 

You think I'm handsome?

Ellie hands you one of the pills from the bottle. You take it reluctantly, swallowing it dry. 

When the pain ebbs slightly a short while later Ellie helps you to a standing position so you can use the toilet. You decide to shower yourself up the best you can before returning to the bedroom. Ellie is just finished changing your sheets. 

Gratitude for both her and Joel sears through you. That they would go to all of this trouble for just you. 

Wrapped in a fuzzy towel you pad over to the dresser. You pull on a nightdress over the towel before dropping it down to the floor, drying your feet. You think about crouching down to pick it up but you can't chance it. Just the thought makes your side ache. 

Your attention is drawn to the pile of books she's emptied from her bag and heaved onto the bedside table. 

"What're those?"

“You’ve never seen books before?”

“Ha ha,” you mock drolly rolling your eyes.

“They’re from our place," Ellie tells you before bringing them over. "Joel thought you'd want some new reading material."

Something slithers through your body at this comment. Joel is being so thoughtful, remembering things about you and he’s going to all this effort... But why? Was it just for you? And if it was, how do you feel about it?

You let yourself search your body and brain for a reaction and are surprised because You feel... Warm about it.

That's probably just the medication.

When you come back to stand next to the bed Ellie gives you a scan.

"You okay?"

"Yup," you say happily. "Just feeling good."

"Oh yeah?" Ellie holds in a laugh. She watches you roll awkwardly back into the bed, eyes glazed. 

"Thanks for doing this Ellie. The books and pills and my bed and everything."

"Joel would be upset if I didn't," Ellie admits, moving the pillows under you until you're half seated. She darts a glance at you. "He cares a lot about you, you know."

"Mhm," you offer noncommittal. You're feeling that same loopy sensation from before. The one that has you feeling loving towards everyone. "I care about him too."

"Really?" Ellie sounds surprised. 

"I think he's so handsome. And his mouth is so soft, Ellie. I wanna kiss him all the time."

"Gross," Ellie is trying not to laugh at your obviously drugged state. "I thought you two couldn't stand each other? You're always starting in on each other when I see you."

"He's annoying," you say with a pout. "But he's good inside. He just hides it." 

"Oh yeah?" Ellie is tilted back in her chair secretly screaming in amusement. She's known you for over a year and never gotten so much as a hint of your affection for Joel. 

But now that she thinks about it though it all seems so obvious. The way the two of you always seem to find one another in a crowd, even if it is just to argue. The way Joel gets up extra early on patrol days and uses extra shampoo. The way you both go pink in the cheeks when you have a disagreement, eyes flashing. 

How didn't she see it before now? 

Her surrogate father figure means a lot to her. He always has and always will. She wants him to be happy. She thinks about the two of you together and it brings a grin to her chapped lips. 

"What's your favorite thing about Joel?"

She pulls the sheet up to your waist, amused at the dreamy look that's taken over your features. 

"How well he takes care of things. Like, how he takes care of you and the horses and the community," you're slurring now. "He's got such a big heart." 

"He does," Ellie agrees, thankful that it's not just her who knows it. 

"I think about him all the time," you murmur, head tilting against the pillow. "But I try not to."

Ellie finds her amusement giving way to something deeper as she watches you fall into a medicated sleep. But not before you seem to momentarily come back to yourself. 

"Don't tell him," your drugged self begs slowly. "He can't know. He doesn't see me like that." 

///

Ellie drops by every day with food and to help you out of bed when you need it. You're doing much better however, and a lot of that is in thanks to the pills. They make it possible for you to sleep without waking. 

Gemma also returns daily to check up on you, thankful that you're taking the pills and sleeping. 

Your body begins to mend and soon you don't need the pills at all. You keep them right there on your bedside table just in case. But you plan on returning then to Gemma when you're completely healed up. 

After a week you're able to get to the washroom independently without doubling over. You're able to shower and to wash your hair. 

Joel doesn't stop by. 

By week three Gemma is only visiting every couple of days to ensure that you're healing properly. Ellie comes by with food daily but she doesn't stay long as she's started helping in the community garden after school. 

And in all this time your thoughts draw to Joel. His eyes when he looked at you over his whiskey glass, the curve of his smirk, his finger in your mouth. All of these jumble up in your mind leaving you irritable and confused.

You'd almost convinced yourself he liked you. Almost could have believed that there was a mutual attraction underneath the bickering. 

He went and got the medication didn't he? Wasn't that something? 

But maybe it hadn't been for your benefit. Joel feels similar to you about the community of Jackson. Putting it first before your own interests. Maybe that's why he headed out in a snowstorm. 

Probably. 

Because he hasn't been by to see you since that night. You don't blame him - it's not like you're friends. You're patrol partners and he felt responsible to see you didn't die that day in the stables. 

It shouldn't bother you that he hasn't come by since. 

But it does. 

///

Week four is when you feel good enough to go out for short walks. You decide to get food from the dining hall. The pain is fairly minimal, but you're breathing is a bit labored. 

It takes you three times as long to get there but you feel very proud of yourself. Folks greet you, but politely. You don't know many of the people that live here; you've always been more of a hermit. 

Ellie spots you when you shuffle towards the drinks station and she waves you over. 

You slowly make your way to their end of the table, shooting a wan smile that Ellie returns. Joel meanwhile has his head facing down to his meal, his countenance withdrawn. 

"Come eat with us," Ellie insists. 

"Not really up to it today," you confess. "Was kinda just trying to stretch my legs and grab something to take back. Give you a break from having to bring me food every day."

"I don't mind," Ellie shrugs. "I like feeling useful."

Joel is studiously ignoring you, his eyes on his plate. You don't know why but this upsets you. Joel is always finding some way to tease you or throw a sarcastic comment your way. But right now he's so quiet, so still. 

"Well I appreciate what you've done for me," you say, tucking the sandwich into your pocket. "Both of you."

Joel feels himself straighten, his heart picking up speed, his entire body prickling at your nearness. He can smell your soap, see the way your face looks so much healthier now that you've been getting regular sleep. 

"No problem," Ellie replies. She shoots Joel a look before kicking his shin under the table. By the time he gets what she's trying to communicate you're already gone. 

///

"She told me," Ellie says to Joel for the twentieth time that morning. The two of them walk over the frost covered landscape. 

Ellie has finally told Joel about your confession. She shouldn't have betrayed your privacy but seeing the two of you walking around so oblivious is frustrating to Ellie.  

"She was high as a kite," Joel mumbles, unable to look at her. 

"So?"

"She didn't mean it."

"She did so," Ellie insists. "She likes you Joel. Thinks you're handsome and kind and-"

"Ellie just drop it," Joel throws over his shoulder. 

He doesn't want to nurse this pathetic crush of his anymore. It doesn't matter what you say when you're on medication. In the cold light of day you don't want him and that's fine. He's been single a long time. 

And yet...

When his walk with Ellie ends and he starts up the stairs of the porch to head inside his house something tugs at him. It makes him mumble to Ellie about grabbing something from the shop, ignoring the knowing smirk on her face. 

It tugs him hastily towards your home, to your front door and when you invite whomever is outside in, it tugs him by the collar to stand beside your bed watching you place a mug of tea down on your bedside table. 

He takes in the nightdress you wear, the dark under your eyes. He sees the blanket pulled up to your collar, looking cozy and warm. Somehow that thought turns him on more than he can explain, just knowing your skin would be warm and soft and…

"Hey, everything okay, Miller?" Your eyes scan his face as he stares at you without speaking. "You seem... Weird."

Joel swallows a scowl. This is what he rushed over here for? This was the woman who really really liked him according to Ellie?

I'm a fuckin' idiot. 

"Yeah I'm fine. Just... Checkin' in on you."

"Oh." You seem surprised at this, smiling faintly. "Yeah, well, I'm getting there. I feel pretty good most days."

"S'good," Joel nods, shuffling slightly. And he means it, he is really glad that you're okay. It makes the coil of rope around his heart go slack. As if now he can properly breathe. His hands go into his jean pockets and he clears his throat awkwardly.

"You went to a lot of effort," you tell him, feeling shy. "Before. With the medication.'

Was it for me? 

"Yeah, well, we needed more meds," Joel reasons, unable to look you in the face. "And I had nothin' better to do."

Of course it wasn't for me. 

You're so stupid thinking that there was anything there. You want to shake yourself silly for thinking that there was any chance Joel Miller sees you as anything more than an annoyance. 

"Right, yeah." You sigh softly. "Well, thank you. I got a few days of really good sleep, managed the pain. Couldn't have done that without your help."

Joel makes a small grunt of acknowledgement in return. 

He doesn't want to stick around too much longer. He feels awkward enough knowing that in the sober light of day you want nothing to do with him. It's made worse knowing that he so easily and readily would have opened his heart if you had given only the slightest indication today. 

"Well, get better soon," he mumbles. "Patrols need as many people as possible." 

You try not to look deflated. Everything he’s saying today hits you like a punch to the gut. You give a weak smile, nodding up at him.

"Right."

"I'll send Ellie by with some more books next week if you want." He motions to the books scattered on your bed, some dog-eared, many finished. 

"You'll probably be done with all these by then." 

You want to deny this offer, not wanting anything more from him. But he's correct, you read quickly and these books will surely be done by next week.

"That would be nice, thanks." 

He gives a short raise of his fingers before he's turned and preparing to walk out the door into the chill of the day. 

"Joel?"

He stills mid-step at the sound of your voice. He turns, hearing you tentatively approach him. He's surprised to see you out of the bed, bare feet padding over to him. You’re wearing a thin nightdress and he fights everything in his body not to stare at the way he can see the tight buds of your nipples through it.

"I never really thanked you for everything," you say softly as you approach, chest heaving nervously. "The doctor, the soup and drink." 

You're so close he could wrap his hand around your neck and pull you to him. His fingers twitch against his thighs at the thought. His feelings for you are coursing through him and he's having a difficult time reminding himself that you don't want him like that. 

"So thanks," you finish lamely, gaze unable to drift from his. It feels like his dark brown eyes are hypnotizing, drawing you into their depths. 

Your eyes move to his mouth, that pouty, soft-looking mouth that haunts your fucking dreams. You realize with a shiver that you want Joel. You need to feel what it is to kiss him. Suddenly you can't help yourself. 

A hand snakes out to his collar, tugging his face down to yours. Your mouths collide because you are desperate to see if Joel's lips feel as soft as they look. 

They do.  

They're so soft and they go firm as he kisses you back, groaning gently into your mouth. His hands travel to your waist, quickly banding around your lower back, pulling you into his hips. You smile against his lips, hands moving from his collar to grip his neck, needing more of him. 

Joel feels like he’s on fire in the best possible way. You’re so warm in his arms, just like he imagined. And you’re pulling him against you, needy for him like he is for you. He backs you against the wall, careful to be gentle as he does. He licks into your mouth, his hips grinding against yours.

“So fucking sweet,” he murmurs against your mouth, one hand on your lower back, the other cradling the back of your head so that he can taste all of you. Every crevice, every sensation, everything that’s you. His hand slides to your hip, urging one leg to band around his waist, his thickness rasping through his jeans against your clothed core.

“Oh f-fuck,” you groan as his mouth goes to your jaw, pressing desperate kisses down the side of your throat. Joel feels as your hands go for the buckle of his belt and his mouth comes back to capture yours once more. As your tongue greedily dabs against his and your hand slides underneath his jeans you feel Joel suddenly tense under you. 

"Wait what-" Joel pulls back, his hands gripping you by the shoulder, looking into your face. He peers into your face a long while before his eyes fly to your bedside table behind you, fixing there before you see his face fall.

You see the way his brows rise and the almost pained look in his eyes as he speaks.  

"I gotta go."

Before you can say anything to him Joel has scrambled to buckle his pants and then rushed out of the room.  You can hear his boots slapping against the porch steps as you glance over at your bedside table.

There you see the collection of books, a glass of water, the opened pill container, a hairbrush. You don't know what upset him so much but you feel a rush of shame go through you. It has nothing to do with what’s on your bedside table, it’s that Joel realized that he doesn’t want you like that.

You were an idiot to think Joel Miller cares for you. 

///

After six weeks you’re feeling back to your normal self. You tell a very excited Maria that you’re ready to get back to patrols but added: “Do you think you could swap my shifts though? I’d like a new partner.”

It hurt having to ask her that, but it felt necessary. Maria hadn’t questioned it – it was commonplace to switch people out from time to time. The man currently filling your spot with Joel would continue on in your place and you’d be moved to D-Watch.

It seemed like a perfect plan until the next day when you rose very early and headed to the stables.

You wanted to take your time saddling Glimmer as it’d been weeks since you were riding. You wanted to make sure you weren’t rusty for whoever your partner turned out to be. Glimmer looked happy to have the company in the pen this early, the dappling sun dancing around the paddock.

You were just releasing the cinches on the saddle when you felt the sound of footsteps making their way into the barn and then the heavy presence of someone behind you.

“Since when’re you back on patrols?”

Fuck. 

"Hi Miller,” you sigh. “And to answer your question, since yesterday.”

Joel watches you saddling up Glimmer, his dark brows furrowing. “But it ain’t your watch today.”

“It is starting this week,” you answer breezily, wishing he’d just go away and leave you alone.

You don’t want to be talking to Joel right now. Just the memory of how you threw yourself at him last time makes your cheeks burn.

"What the fuck... Why?"

“I wanted to try something new,” you lie, still not facing him.

You hear the sound of his boots dragging, his body warm behind you. You hate that your stomach jumps at his nearness. You hate that your body yearns for his despite everything that’s happened.

“Anway, I’m busy,” you tell him as you reach for Glimmer’s breast collar. 

You wait for Joel to turn around or to say something caustic. But instead you hear the sound of his feet drawing him closer to you. A feather light touch of his hand is at your shoulder, resting there. It compels you to stop what you’re doing and listen.

“I don’t want you to switch.”

His deep voice is soft and almost wounded. It makes your motions still and your head tilt to the side, about to respond.

Out of nowhere Glimmer rears back, sending you throwing yourself backwards in anticipation of a kick. Joel grabs her bridle, forcing her to still.

“Calm now, girl. C’mon, shhhh.”

 She gives a sharp whinny, settling almost immediately. Joel pats her muzzle, murmuring soothing words before making sure the flank cinch is tightened properly.

He turns to look over at you, confused to see you cowering beside the stable door. You’re on your knees, half bent and eyes squeezed shut. As he watches, you tilt forward as if you’re about to vomit and you let out  a low moan of what sounds like pain.

“Fuck.”

Joel rushes over to you, falling to his knees before you. “Are you hurt?”

"Just ... Just go away, Joel," you sputter before dropping to your knees. You need him to go away. You need the world to go away so you can get your bearings.

"Is it the ribs-"

"No!" You moan, feeling as the cold sensation grips your lower body. You let out another strangled noise, feeling like you heart is going to burst out of your chest. 

"My h-heart," you sputter.

You don't know how to say the words: this has happened before but no one has ever been here to witness it. And for some reason this morning's is so much worse than you remember the last one being. 

“I get these sometimes,” Joel explains, urging you to sit up and face him.  “It’s just panic. Take a minute and breathe.”

“I-I a-am b-b-breathing,” you managed to choke out, even as you feel your chest constrict. You feel frantic, like you’re going to explode if something doesn’t happen quickly. Joel recognizes the look and his hands move  to rest firmly on either side of your neck, forcing your eyes to his.

"Copy me. Inhale.... Exhale."

The panic is overwhelming, your entire body starting to break out in chills. You're scared and you grip onto Joel's shoulders as if he's a lifeboat and you're at sea. 

"Joel, I-"

"Breathe with me, baby," Joel instructs. You feel his thumbs on either side of your jaw, grounding you. "Are you listening? In... And out... Just like that. Yeah, good girl. Just like that."

You breathe in slowly, watching his mouth as it form a perfect little ‘o’ shape. You exhale along with him,

"In.... And out ..." 

His mouth. His perfect, pouty lips forming the words. The feeling is overwhelming, the desire to press your mouth to his is quickly edging out the panic you’d been feeling. He holds you in his strong palms and you feel boneless, his voice lulling you into a calm state. You gaze at him with glassy eyes.

"In... And out..." 

Joel is so worried that you're going to pass out. You've gone from hyperventilating to sudden slow and deep breaths. But after a few moments he thinks you must be in the clear.

"There you go," he murmurs, gaze lingering on your face. Your skin is so soft under his hands, your eyes meeting his with lowering lids.

You continue to stare at him, unable to find the right words. Joel smiles crookedly.

"Guess I know how to get you to listen to me now. Just gotta catch ya in the middle of a meltdown." 

He's trying to lighten the tension because your faces are so close to one another, he can feel the warmth of your breath huffing against his face. 

You want to press your mouth to his but he gently releases your face, leaning back to regard you. 

"Let's get you home. I-"

But you’re not moving from where you sit kneeling against him, your hands still on his shoulders.

"Why don't you visit me anymore?" 

Joel doesn’t know exactly how to respond to this. He can tell that you’re obviously stressed and he doesn’t want to add to it. But on the other hand he has no desire to keep anything from you.

"Didn't know we were friends enough to visit," Joel shrugs. 

"But you did the first few days," you reason, fingers digging into the warmth of his jacket. "The soup, the whiskey. Then that last time."

"You miss me or somethin'?" Joel teases lightly. 

"Yeah," you say in a voice so gentle it could have been a sigh. "I do miss you, Miller. The place feels good when you're around. Better than good, it feels right."

There. You've admitted it. No matter what happens at least you know you've shared how you feel with him. 

Joel stares at you for a long moment before he stands, suddenly overcome. You bring yourself to stand across from him, watching as he begins to pace in front of you, lower lip slightly protruding in thought.

"You know that night you got hurt?” Joel asks, darting a glance at you. “And I took you back to yours?"

"Obviously."

"You uh, you surprised me that night,” Joel confesses, his cheeks reddening. “You kissed me."

Your eyes blow wide. "What?"

"Yeah. You said a lot of stuff 'bout wanting to kiss me for a while and,” Joel licks his lips nervously. “You asked me to stay the night with you."

You're in total shock about this. You have no recollection except for waking up and being needlessly unkind to him due to the surprise of seeing him in your bed. You cover your face with your hands, humiliating overtaking you.

“Oh my – Joel I’m so sorry-“

“No, no nothing to be sorry for,” Joel says almost desperately. “I mean . . .I just. . .That’s why I was there when you woke up," Joel explains.

“Because I guilted you into it,” you moan, burying your face in your hands further. “And then I forced myself on you.”

“You didn’t force anythin’.”

You want to jump into a fit of infested bloaters if it means this conversation can be over. All this time you thought Joel liked you and it’s because he’s what? Embarassed that you threw yourself at him in a drugged episode?

You’re surprised when you feel his large hands overtaking yours, dragging them from your heating face. He looks so concerned, so nervous. It makes your heart pound. He holds your hand in his, thumbs absently trailing over the knuckles.

“I liked you kissing me. I liked being there with you when you woke up,” he finally confesses throatily. “I liked holding you. I like being around you. . . Even when you drive me crazy and you talk shit. I only like patrols ‘cuz you’re on ‘em with me. I don’t want you to swit-”

Before he can even finish his sentence you’ve jerked forward, throwing your arms around his neck and pressing your mouth to his. Joel responds immediately, his lips slotting between yours instinctively as his arms go around you.

But then you feel him tense again and your body stills. Joel wants to kiss you back so badly his entire body goes up in flames. But all too soon he pushes you from him gently. 

"You don't actually want me," Joel tells you flatly, swallowing thickly. "It's the pills. Like last time." 

What?

“You get like this when you’ve taken the pill,” he explains. “Makes you more emotional or somethin’. I dunno. I just-“

"Joel I haven't taken a pill in weeks," you say, brows furrowed. "I haven't needed them."

Joel peers down into your face, uncertainty etched there. "Last time I came over to see you, those pills-"

"I hadn’t taken any that day."

"They were open.”

“I was counting to see how many were left. I wanted Gemma to know when she came by so she could use them in the pharmacy.”

Joel stares at you a long moment and you begin giggling nervously when you see his eyes darken.  Immediately his hands on either side of your face, pulling you into a searching kiss as you whimper. And just like in your bedroom he backs you against the wall, pressing his frame against yours.

He kisses you in the way he’s been aching to do since he last saw you, teeth clacking in over-eager need, tongues and grunts and your hands fisting in his hair, needing all of each other. His knee goes between your thighs and you rest there, hips grinding.

"Fuck, I wanna do so much with you," Joel rasps against your jaw, planting sloppy kisses there. His teeth graze your pulsepoint and he groans when he feels your body trembling against him, your pelvis canting towards his.

"Do it," you beg brokenly. "Please, do it."

You want his hands and mouth everywhere on your body and he wants you in his bed right this fucking instant, but he feels how you move in his arms, still slightly stiff from your injury.

"Not until you're officially all healed up," Joel murmurs amazed that you’re here in his arms. "Can't risk it." 

"You think pretty highly of yourself, Miller," you tease, grinning broadly when he does.  

"Not Miller," he says giving you a full-lipped kiss as he circles your waist gently with his arms. "Not when I'm lovin' on you."

You grin up at him, feeling your eyes water at the sincerity in his expression. You run your hand through his greying curls; your thumb gently tracing over his cheek. 

"Alright then," you whisper. “Kiss me again, Joel."

[adhdprincess]

I've seen some posts about the amount of horny posts in the fandom. Just letting people know we have a non-smut TLOU tag called:

#the tipsy bison

Come hang if you wanna see gen posts!

BTW I'm supportive of the smut posts. There arent enough sex-positive communities out there, so if the TLOU fandom creates one, that's awesome!

[getitoutofmymindwrites]

Perfect. | joel miller x f!reader drabble, 1.6k

Summary: You're full of Joel, but you need him in your mouth, too. Joel delivers.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, SMUT, pwp, rough sex, dom!joel, sub!reader, established relationship, everything that happens is discussed and consensual, cursing, praise kink, size kink, degradation kink, unprotective p in v, minor anal play, nipple play, reader is obsessed with Joel's fingers, hair pulling, (1) ass slapping, manhandling, gagging kink, deepthroat, free use at the end, facial, cum eating, belated aftercare, as always, let me know if I missed anything!

A/N: There's not much to say, this is pure filth, just to cleanse my palette of all the anguish I've brought upon myself! It was written on a whim, so here goes 👀

P.S.: I don't need to remind you how much I hate summaries. I hate them. OK, ily all, bye!

Dividers by @cafekitsune

“Fuck, you feel so good-” Joel pants between your breasts as you take him deep inside you, riding him, “uuuuuh, perfect- fuck- perfect little pussy-” He’s so big, you feel him in your belly. Your cunt is stretched to its limit but you’re so wet from all the orgasms he pulled out of you before impaling you on his hard cock, that he slides inside you with ease.

He sits on the edge of the bed, his feet touching the soft carpet beneath him. His hands cradle your ass, kneading it and maneuvering you up and down on his thick cock, while you lock your hands around his neck for leverage.

His fingertips glide lightly over your asshole as he holds you open and stretched in his palms, feeling your tight ring of muscle clench on his digits. His lower belly and balls are soaked in your arousal, the hairs on his base glued together by your sticky slick. Your clit rubs against them every time you roll your hips.

Joel runs his big calloused palms up your back, sending shivers down your spine and as you arch your back in pleasure, pushing your breasts closer to his face, he cups them, pinching your hardened nipples between his thumb and forefinger. You look down at his hands as he continues to arouse your tits and the sight makes your clit twitch and your cunt clench around him.

His wet tongue enters the game, flicking it up and down over your erect nubs, sending jolts of pleasure through your body and your thighs begin to tremble both from exhaustion and arousal.

Your fingers run through his hair, tugging gently. He moans as his hand comes down hard on your asscheek. You whimper at the spreading pain, your cunt gushing around his cock, the lewd sounds of your joined sexes only making it more obvious.

You fuck him so good and hard, sucking him deep inside you, you start creaming around him.

You become obsessed with his hands. Big, strong, veined and tanned, with tiny freckles, his fingers calloused and skillful; their expert touch, always bring you to completion.

“I wanna suck your fingers. Please..” you coo into his ear, your hands tugging desperately at the unruly curls at the back of his head.

“Mhhhh..yeah?” Joel turns his head towards you, his aquiline nose pressing against your cheek.

Your grip on him tightens as you continue to bounce on his cock, your voice laced with need and lust, “Please, Joel..”

Joel grants your wish and moves a palm away from your breast but doesn’t bring it to your mouth. Instead, he snakes it between your bodies, collecting your arousal from his slick-coated base. He’s going to be the death of you.

He brings his shiny fingers to your face allowing you to take the lead, go on, then. Milky strings of your slick create little webs connecting his digits together.

You encircle his wrist with your delicate fingers and bring his palm to your nose, smelling the combination of your juices and his musk, making your eyes roll. “You dirty little thing..” he mutters to himself, smirking as he begins to meet your thrusts with his own, the sound of your bodies slapping together filling the otherwise silent room.

You open your eyes and slowly wrap your lips around his middle and ring fingers, swirling your tongue around the tips as you would his cock head. “Fuck.” he grunts through his teeth and you feel him twitch inside you, his breath stuttering. You hollow out your cheeks and suck them into your warm mouth, bobbing your head up and down on them, your eyes never leaving his.

“You like that, babygirl? Suckin’ my fingers like you do my cock?”

“Mmhmm..” you all but moan, your face wrecked from the intensity of the moment.

“Wanna gag on them?” Fuck yes.

“Mhhhh” you whine now, sucking even harder to make a point. He pushes his fingers further into your mouth as his cock pushes deeper into you, stroking that sweet spot that only he can reach. He presses on your gag reflex, making you gag and your eyes water. Your grip on his wrist is firm, making sure his fingers stay in your mouth.

“Such a fuckin’ whore f’ me, aren’t you? Stuffing your holes full ’a me, huh?” You clench violently around him, almost to the point of coming, your breath coming in short pants. He leans forward, his lips brushing your ear “Maybe I should stuff your tight little hole with my other hand, I bet you’d like me in there, too. I bet you’d take me so well, yeah?”

His dirty talk drives you wild and you arch your spine again, moaning around his fingers but he quickly withdraws them, strings of saliva briefly connecting your lips to his tips and you whimper at the loss.

He lowers his slick fingers to tap quickly but gently on your swollen clit. You cry out at the stimulation, waves of electricity rippling through your body. “Gonna come on my cock baby? Yeah..” he breathes, his eyes fixed on your face, contorted with pleasure, “Yeah, you are.”

That does it; you come so hard, spasming around his stiff length, making a mess on his lap. Joel stops fucking into you, staying buried to the hilt inside you, feeling the tight grip of your cunt choking him in rhythm.

“That’s it, thaaat’s it, look at me, baby, fuck- fuckmmphh- this perfect cunt-” Joel keeps guiding you through your orgasm, biting where your neck meets your shoulder.

Your mouth is slack from the force of your release but it feels so empty and before you come down completely you are begging for him. “I need you in my mouth, Joel- I need you to fill me with your cum, please Joel, please..” you beg deliriously.

“Christ, baby.” Joel grits his teeth and pulls you off his lap and his hard member, forcing you onto your knees and shoving his cock into your mouth, grabbing handfuls of your hair. He can't deny you when you beg so prettily.

The taste is heavenly. Tasting yourself on him as you breathe in his heady scent makes your head spin with desire. “That’s it, gag on it.” he says as he focuses on his shaft, veiny, swollen and shiny, disappearing into your warm mouth, hitting the back of your throat with each thrust.

He knows. He sees it all in your eyes, you’re so far gone, surrendered to your pleasure and his. Joel begins to fuck your throat in deep, sharp thrusts, his thighs tensing and bulging under your palms. He rests his hand around your throat, feeling it bulge under his fingertips.

You’re utterly ruined. Your eyes are bloodshot and filled with tears, and your lips are stretched and swollen as you drool around him. Your face is coated in sweat, saliva and your arousal. You can taste your cum and his pre-cum on your tongue, along with every ridge and vein of his erection. You just kneel there, between his legs like a toy, letting him take and give what you both need.

“Fuck, look at you. Look at you, my sweet girl, choking on this big cock.”

You don’t react, you just sit there, pliant and doe-eyed and take it; content and worry-free. You make it so hard for him to hold back any longer. He’s about to come and he has this irresistible urge to ruin that innocent, fucked out look on your face.

He pulls his cock out of your mouth and jerks furiously over your face, his biceps flexing from the effort, his other hand firmly gripping your hair to maneuver you as he pleases. You look up at him in total surrender, tongue out, longing for what’s to come.

His eyebrows are drawn together, his jaw is slack and his mouth is open in that perfect shape that his plush lips form, as he breathes heavily. His broad torso, covered in both yours and his sweat, rises and falls rapidly, his muscles flexing deliciously under his skin.

He comes and comes with a deep, guttural moan all over your face; your forehead, your eyelashes, your nose, your cheeks, your lips, everything is marked by his thick, warm, milky cum. Your cunt flutters at this act of degradation and possession.

“Don’t open them; it’ll sting.” you hear him say while catching his breath, referring to your closed eyes and your cum-coated lashes. You do as he says and wait behind the darkness of your closed eyelids for him to take care of you. But Joel just sits there, admiring his handiwork as he comes down from his high.

You can hear his heavy breathing and the lack of sight is the only thing that makes you realize he’s human, like you. This otherwise divine creature is human.

“Let’s clean you up.” you finally hear him say as you feel his thumb wipe his now cold and dry cum from your skin, press it gently against your lips and feed it to you. You swallow every last drop of it, your tongue warm and welcoming around his digit. He leaves your eyes last.

When he’s finished, he holds the sides of your face with his palms, taking a good look at your submissive form, resting his forehead against yours.

You slowly open your eyes as he plants soft kisses all over your face. “Perfect..” you hear him murmur, more to him than to yourself.

“Perfect and mine.”

[morchilluv]

or both im sorry i forgot to add it!

[mountainsandmayhem]

WIP Wednesday

Thanks @mermaidgirl30 @lotusbxtch and @alltheirdamn for the tags, literally makin me feel like the most popular slut at the whore house LOL

I got a few things going on here lately but here’s 3 that I’m loving so far.

Also, I’m not going to tag anyone because I’m a people pleaser and I’m scared that by tagging you I’m annoying you LOL. But please tag me if you post because I’m a people pleaser and feel like I’m annoying you if I ask to be tagged LOL. Vicious cycle, really.

1) God Bless The She Devil That Made Joel Miller - Part 2

2) Fire Chief Pike

3) Pleasure Dom Pike

[mybworlds]

Chapter 2: The Wedding

Pairing: joel miller x f!reader (no use of Y/N) | Rating: 18+ Minors DNI | W.C.: 2.8k

Summary: Your life sounds perfect: you live with a perfect man, you live in your dream house, you do the job you love, you don't miss anything, except love and passion.

Warnings: no use of Y/N, use of you, reader is a photographer, reader has no physical descriptions except hair (no type or color) long enough to hold on to, unspecified age gap, Joel and reader are two cheaters, for a while. Smut, use of pet names, dirty talk, masturbation, unprotected PiV but the first time, creampies, comeplay, oral (both f and m recieving), exhibitionism, size kink, personal use of an unspecified sex toy. No outbreak here. Let me know if I missed anything!

Before to leave, thank you for your likes and reblogs ❤️🫶

Masterlist

follow @mybworlds and turn on notifications to get notified when I post new fics

Thx for the dividers @saradika-graphics

Taglist @harriedandharassed

Saturday is a thankfully sunny, warm day. The bride and groom are celebrating their wedding at Fire Island National Seashore, it's two hours away from New York City, but at least they're paying you an extra to enjoy a wonderful place like that and they've even paid a hotel room since they've already announced the event won't end until 1:00 am. That's fine for you, I mean not that you had anything else to do since Patrick told you he would be out for the weekend for business purposes. I mean, you are also out for work and therefore it is okay.

The bride and groom are two very handsome guys, you can tell they are in love, happy. You take a lot of wonderful shots and you can't help but be happy about it because you know that, when they will receive their pictures, they can't help but be thrilled as they remember that wonderful day with a big smile and watery eyes. You also take some shots of the guests, the location, the wedding arch, the venue, everything is wonderful.

At some point in taking shots, you realize that you have also framed someone you never thought you would see there again which is the mysterious and charming stranger from the bar, you don't exactly know how to behave as you didn't leave each other in a very civil manner, in fact you almost had a hysterical reaction. Maybe this is the right opportunity to apologize for your behavior or maybe you can pretend you didn't see him!

You decide to ignore him and continue working, too bad the stranger turns out to be the groom's best man and therefore you necessarily have to take a picture of him as well the moment the ceremony almost ended, so you can't ignore him anymore. You wonder why you are behaving this way, it is absurd, he is a guy like any other why are you avoiding him?

The wedding party is wonderful, organized down to the smallest detail with a lot of care, you photograph everything and then you make sure to choose the best shots, you will propose therefore to the bride and groom and make a nice digital and paper photo montage if they want it; even the food is great, everything is beautiful, but there is that persistent discomfort you feel toward the stranger. Evening comes and you're still walking around with your beloved camera attached to your neck and your finger ready to shoot, people are dancing, drinking, having fun, you're smiling too. It is impossible not to smile at such an event.

Suddenly, however, someone pushes you and you to prevent your camera from breaking, you turn around suddenly falling backwards, some people look at you, someone laughs and then someone offers you his hand to help you get up, a hand which you immediately grasp as you stand up, when you look up at this someone who extended his hand, you realize that it was the stranger who helped you. Your eyes meet again and this time you have a chance to observe his dark brown eyes, this time you feel like a thrill running through your body, “Well, we bump into each other again!” the stranger exclaims with a smile.

“Yes, sort of.” you say in an evasive tone and immediately you let go of his hand to look at your camera that is not broken or is still working.

“Nice shot!” the man exclaims looking at the screen of your camera, the subject of your shot is him, but it was an involuntary shot this one due to the fall.

“Um… well, this was not an intentional shot.” you admit looking at the small monitor ‘I've taken better ones.’ you add as you look up at him. He nods, “'m I in the pictures too?” he asks you.

“Of course, you're the best man!” you exclaim, lowering your gaze and clearing your throat.

“Can I get you a drink?” the stranger asks you, “Oh, forgive me! 'm Joel,” he introduces himself by extending his hand to you, you look first at him and then at his hand, which you shake by introducing yourself in turn. He smiles, “Would you like to?” you nod “Well, then this way.” he adds making a hand gesture in following him.

You have a drink, actually more than one, and your initial awkwardness toward the stranger begins to give way to curiosity and a desire to get to know him, no longer escaping him, and only then do you notice his strong southern drawl. You are sitting on one of those two-seater hanging garden chairs, “How d' you know the groom, Joel?” you ask him, sipping another glass of champagne.

“We were friends in our school days, even though we've taken different paths we remained close friends, y' know, we have dinners once or twice a week, barbecues and things like that,” he tells you.

“You look like the barbecue guy,” you say smiling at him.

He smiles shaking his head, “Yeah, huh?”

You nod smilingly, “Well,” you place your glass on the lawn next to the small chair, “I bet I can tell who you are by looking at your hands.” you add looking into his eyes.

He gives you a small grin that causes a wrinkle to appear at the side of his mouth “All right,” he agrees, stretching his hands out, which you grab this time. He has very large hands, big calloused fingers “Judging by your calloused fingers I'd say you play,” you smile at him “guitar?”

“Yes, you guessed it right.” he replies wrinkling his forehead in an amused expression “What else?”

“Well, from the little cuts and scratches I'd say you do a manual work, am I right?” you ask again smiling at him and this time seeking his gaze without avoiding his dark eyes.

“You sure we haven't met before?” he asks smiling at you.

You shake your head smiling again, “Yeah, I'm sure.” you reply “I meet a lot of people in my job, I would have remembered.” you add.

“And why is that?” he asks you slightly losing his smile.

“I don't know,” you reply shrugging your shoulders “some people stick in my mind, I don't even know why.” you add “Well, we were talking about your work, so I guessed right?” you press him.

“Yes, I run a small construction company where I work myself.” you smile “I didn't think my hands said so much about me!” the man exclaims with an amused air.

“Yes, you knows the length of our nails, the nail polish we choose…. It's fun, it's a way of getting to know each other without saying so much.”

“I like that, what 'bout you?” Joel asks by reversing the positions of your hands, “What you think your hands can tell me 'bout you?” you observe how small they are compared to his.

“I don't think they say much,” you answer in a whisper, “Well, maybe there is one thing-- I'm sorry about the reaction the other day. I had some thoughts and I reacted very badly.” you add tightening your lips and looking him in the eye "Sorry, I'm not usually like that."

“So how'd ya?” he presses, sustaining your gaze.

“I'm a photographer, I'm widely satisfied with my job,” you start to answer looking at your hands in his own.

“No, no, no.” he interrupts you making you look up “You, not your job. Who are ya?”

Breathing deeply, not knowing what to answer, you tighten your lips.

“D' ya wanna me to tell you?” he presses you again, you look at him surprised and he continues “You are a person deeply in love with your job to such an extent that you confuse the professional with the person.”

“Now you are also a psychologist!” you exclaim, shaking your head.

“And you're getting angry because I get the point, aren't ya?”

“You had to be a psychologist!” you retort making to release your hands from his grip, but he is quicker because he doesn't let you free to get up and walk away “Let go of me or I'll scream.” you say in a timid whisper.

“Honey, everyone is inebriated. Maybe the only ones left sober are just you and me.” Joel promptly retorts, “Why are you so afraid that someone might read you?” he adds as he gets too close to your face and pulls your hands up to his chest level, in that position he almost seems to want to engulf you, and a strange feeling makes its way inside you.

Fortunately, or unfortunately you don't know, your phone rings and he is forced to let you go, you take the opportunity to get up and take a few steps away from him, it's Patrick.

“Hey,” you say almost out of breath.

“Hi babe, everything okay? What's taking so long to answer?” he asks you.

“Um… it only rang twice,” you reply wrinkling your forehead.

“Really?! Well, it seemed so much more! Whatever, it doesn't matter, the important thing is that you answered. How's the wedding going?”

“Good, there are a lot of interesting people here,” you reply, striving to maintain a neutral tone.

“Are you very tired?”

“No, no,” you reply simply.

“Honey, I hear you a little tired, maybe you should rest,” Patrick says thoughtfully.

“Yeah, I'll go in a little while, 'm almost at the cake cutting and then I'm going to sleep.”

“All right, text me as soon as you're in the room. I'm already in bed, so I'll find your message in the morning. Love you, baby.”

“A kiss.” you interrupt the call with a half-smile.

“Who was the nursemaid?” Joel interjects coming up behind you smiling provokingly.

“No.”

“Was mom checking to see if you answered?” he urges.

“No, it was-- never mind.” you reply shaking your head and putting the phone back in your pocket “We should get back to the party.” you add turning your back on him.

“Sure, go ahead and hide behind your camera.” he chides you, you roll your eyes, but decide not to respond to his provocation.

Soon the ceremony ends with the cutting of the cake and the distribution of the wedding favors, you don't fail to take pictures of the bride and groom, the cake, the groomsmen, the fireworks organized by the groom's relatives, the wedding arch, and then the photo of all the ceremony participants with the newlywed couple. Now your evening's work is truly over, it's time to go to bed.

When you are finally at the hallway where your room is, you are joined by Joel who passes you by half a step “Oh, but look we have rooms next to each other!” he exclaims.

"Oh, cool," you say rolling your eyes using a bored tone of voice.

"You snore?" he says raising an eyebrown with a little smirk on his lips.

You roll your eyes “Are you an irritating guy or is this a behavior you reserve only with those you don't like?”

Joel reconsiders and turns back to you, “Actually it's an attitude I have only toward those I like, and you intrigue me quite a bit.” he responds by placing a hand on your bedroom door as you look into his eyes feeling almost engulfed by his figure again.

“Maybe this pick up technique works with others, but not with me,” you retort, but his strong scent of cologne and whiskey is beginning to envelop your senses making your head almost spin.

“Shall we bet?” he asks you.

“What?” you retort, but he surprises you by kissing you on the lips “No!” you exclaim by shirking and slapping him across the face “Don't do that again.” you add in a trembling voice.

He in response, kisses you again, you suddenly lean your head against the door and make to push him away, but he takes your hands pinning them between his without stopping kissing you, it is a sweet kiss, but one that stuns you completely. No one, not even Patrick, has ever kissed you like this first passionately then slowly, languidly. His tongue gently caresses your lower lip and even this gesture causes shivers down your spine and an strange desire reverberates inside you. He almost crushes you against the door without ever detaching his lips from yours, it is only now that you feel all his power, a languid pleasure growing inside you.

You cannot, you must not give in.

“Joel…” you say pulling away from his lips and turning your head to the side “We can't.”

You feel ridiculous, you certainly can't.

“Why? We're two full-grown adults,” he retorts.

“I don't like you.” you reply quickly “And now get out of my way.” you add quickly pushing him away getting him taking two steps back, then you swipe your card to enter the room and before he can reply, you close the door. You lean against it and hear a few moments later the opening and closing of another door, a sign that Joel left.

You slide against the door, it is not true you don't like him, he is a very attractive man, his hands firmly holding yours, his body crushing you, you breathe deeply, luckily you brought your sex toy with you which loosens that strange worrying languor that had made its way into you, but the closer you find yourself to the climax the more the image of your man fades to be replaced by that of man definitely older than him, with a strong southern drawl, a strong scent of whiskey and cologne, it can't be that you are imagining this stranger whispering profane words in your ear, you can't-- and yet your mind is playing this nasty trick on you by making you come violently, you barely manage to stifle a scream of pleasure, afterwards you throw the sex toy across the bed and stay with your legs spread apart and your head abandoned on the pillow, not even when you are alone at home have you ever come like this. You are really out of your mind, you'd better sleep!

The night passes agitatedly, from the beginning you stared at the ceiling for a long time with your eyes wide open and then you hear outside the ocean kissing the shore several times, then you turned over several times from side to side, slept, but then woke up again and fell asleep only to wake up again. The birdsong that morning is almost a panacea for you, you can get up and occupy your mind with other thoughts, you look out and see that the sky is dotted with dense, dark clouds, a sign that it is going to rain and that you need to leave as soon as possible, you immediately call Patrick apologizing for not calling him last night, but you tell him that you collapsed because of a severe migraine, but you are better now. You also warn him that you will be back in the late afternoon, he also returns in the evening, he tells you, then you say goodbye and hang up. You think you told him a lie it is true, but after all it is a tiny white lie.

When you come down with your small bag, you see in the distance the bride and groom who are having breakfast, they look dreamy and happy, when they see you they greet you warmly and then warn you that they will come to the store to see their full photoshoot. You bid farewell with a big smile and good luck of much serenity and happiness. The wind is also quite strong, a sign that you really need to hurry up and leave or you'll be stuck there. You open the car and put your luggage in the passenger seat, close the door and then go to the driver's side, you start the car, but the car won't start, “Fuck.” you blurt “Start, come on, move.” you mumble still trying to start the engine again. Nothing.

“Maybe it's a battery problem.” says a voice outside the car, it's Joel, leaning against the door of your car “G' morning.” he greets you.

You place your head against the headrest, then turn back to him “Do you have any solutions, genius?”

“Either it's the battery or maybe it's a problem with the battery terminals.” he replies to you as he walks over to the hood “Open up let's see if everything is properly connected.” he continues.

“I thought you worked in the company, not as a mechanic.” you reply by raising the lever so he can look in the hood, then get out of the car.

“Indeed, but my brother's car never starts so on more than one occasion I helped him.” he tells you as he props the hood of the car against the hook “Everything looks fine to me, my brother's car usually is a problem with the cooling system or the solenoid, but here…” he comments aloud as he continues to touch the engine parts.

“Please stop touching, I don't want you to break it!” you exclaim nervously getting out of the car and approaching him.

“Don't worry,” he looks into your eyes for a moment, “I've never broken anything and I'm not going to start with you, honey.”

“Can you tell why from the first moment you saw me you call me that?” you ask him, crossing your arms under your breasts.

“If you mind, I have many other petnames I can give ya.” you shake your head “Shall we have breakfast? I'm starving.” he continues, you are about to say no, but he adds again "I can take you, but I'd like to eat first."

“Actually…” you're about to say.

“I promise I won't kiss you,” he says again, raising his hands in surrender with a small smile.

You smile too, “It's not that, it's…” you say, but you don't know how to go on and so you tighten your lips while scratching your forehead in a nervous gesture “I don't know.”

You are totally losing your self-control, you don't know why this stranger is causing you these reactions, why he makes you feel so attracted to him and at the same time why you almost want to run away from him. Interrupting that stream of thought, there is a first flash of lightning followed by a clap of thunder, Joel calls out to you laying a hand on your shoulder “Let's think about your car later, in the meantime let's go back inside and wait for it to pass,” he says, as a first drop of rain begins to fall, you reluctantly pick up your luggage, Joel does the same, and head back to the hotel.

[joelscurls]

best kept secret

pairing: dbf!Joel Miller x f!reader

words: 6.7k

summary: In an attempt to keep your relationship secret, Joel agrees to a blind date set up by his best friend / your father. You don't take it well.

warnings: 18+ minors dni, pre-outbreak, age gap (reader is in her early 20s, Joel is 36), secret relationship, angst, explicit smut, oral (f!receiving), unprotected piv, semi-public sex, car sex, creampie, some fluff; lmk if I missed anything!

a/n: so sorry it took me almost a month to post something new ffs - life got busy and my inspiration simultaneously disappeared. but we're back, baby! anyway, dbf!joel owns my ass, so here's my rendition of him. as always, ty to my baby @javisashtray for reading this over for me and helping me through the creative process <3

Joel’s bedroom window offers a perfect view of the sunrise; of shy, pink light creeping over treetops and the roof of your dad’s house across the street.

It’s gorgeous — breathtaking, even — maybe because you can count on one hand the number of times you’ve actually seen the crest of morning. You’re far more privy to late nights and sleeping in as long as you can push it,  never been one to be up with the lark, so to speak.

You don’t mind the early wakeup call, though, not when it’s this: Joel’s head tucked between your thighs, his tongue rolling lazily over your clit, your eyes still adjusting to the light as he spreads you open for him.

He’s humming against you, his coarse beard tickling soft skin, thumbs dug into muscle to hold you in place as your back bows reflexively off the mattress. He looks so sweet like this, so eager to please, staring up at you with blown pupils.

“C’mon baby,” he purrs. “Just gimme one before you go.”

They’re the first words he’s said all morning, the first thought that’s necessitated utterance. His voice is hoarse and deep and drips honey-sweet at your core. 

Even so, despite how badly you want to — because you always want Joel’s mouth on you — you’re not sure you can. 

Because you need to get home before Denise next door leaves for her early shift. Before Susan a few houses down takes her dog out for a walk.

Before the neighborhood wakes and somebody sees you leaving Joel Miller’s house. Or worse, before your dad catches you slipping into the house in yesterday’s clothes, your car in the driveway still cold.

But with another experimental flick of Joel’s tongue, you forget all that, a content little sigh slipping past your parted lips, betraying you.

Just one, you tell yourself, and then you’ll head out.

“Fuck, okay — yeah,” you breathe, twisting your fingers into the roots of his curls.

With your permission, he buries his nose in your mound. Licks at you again — with more purpose, this time. One long, drawn out lap followed by another.  

He’s so gentle with you, so careful, caressing your folds with his tongue like they’re made of paper. It’s a dizzying juxtaposition to the way he laid you down last night and fucked you, teeth scraping your neck and cock bruising your cervix.

You’re still sore, your walls tender where he stretched them, but your pussy is drooling nonetheless, surely making a mess of the bedsheets underneath you.

Because you’re insatiable when it comes to Joel. 

For the past few weeks, since the first time you’d found yourself in his bed, you’ve craved him. Regardless of how sated he’s left you each and every time, you’ve needed more. 

It’s dangerous and stupid and undeniably wrong, having a fling with your dad’s best-friend. But you’re finding it difficult to consider the morality of it all when just his tongue makes you come harder than any other man’s cock ever has. 

That tongue, now dipping into your apex, drawing more slick out of you as his thumb finds your swollen clit — It’s overwhelming how good it feels, how good he is at this.

He’s bringing you to the edge languidly, savoring the taste of you, the feel of your silky flesh. It’s like he doesn’t want this to be over, needs to stretch the moment as far as it’ll go, milk every last second before you slip from his grasp.

But it’s going to end soon; it’s inevitable with the way he’s laving your pussy, the crushed velvet of his tongue gliding through your folds so wet and warm. Your orgasm is building, and you’re powerless to stave it off any longer.

“Joel,” you warn, his name a high-pitched whine. 

“Shh, I know babygirl; it’s okay.” 

Two of his fingers hook at your entrance and push in, pacifying you as his thumb continues working your clit. “I got you. Let go for me, sweetheart.”

The soothe of his voice floods your senses like nitrous; renders your body loose and your head foggy. You come apart with a string of shattered breaths, eyes rolled back and fingers twisted into the duvet.

Joel talks you through it: that’s it, pretty girl; so good for me; always so good for me, and though he sounds so far away, his words are the only thing keeping you tethered to reality.

The world comes back into view slowly. Air settles in your lungs. And you can’t help but laugh at how fucked-out you feel when you peer down at Joel, his gaze already locked on you, expectantly.

“Okay?” he asks, rubbing at your inner thigh.

“Yeah,” you exhale, corners of your lips pulling taut. “More than okay.”

He smiles back at you. Props himself up with hands planted either side of you on the mattress and hovers over your feeble form.

“Good,” he whispers, dipping his head down to kiss your forehead, your nose, your mouth. He licks into you, letting you taste yourself on him — a little sweet, a little bitter — and his lips are so soft that you nearly melt. “Did so good, angel.” 

You want nothing more than to spend all day in this bed with him. Return the favor a few times over. Learn what he looks like in the afternoon sun against the backdrop of navy blue sheets. What he tastes like after his coffee rather than before.

“I don’t want to leave,” you admit against his mouth and he frowns, taking one of your hands in his. He presses a kiss to each of your knuckles, one by one, his eyes never straying from yours.

“I don’t want you to either, darlin’. But you can come back tonight, yeah?”

Tonight. Hours away. A whole day between now and then. But it’ll have to do. 

“Tonight,” you repeat. Solidify it. 

You slink home just as the street lights dim.

The house is quiet when you enter, apart from the incessant ticking of the grandmother clock in the living room. It sets off a throbbing in your head, a dull pang right at the front of your skull that you massage with two fingers as you ascend the stairs.

You move cautiously up each step, wincing at every creak of old wood. It must take minutes to reach the second-floor landing, and then you’re tiptoeing past your father’s room, listening for signs of sleep behind the seal of his door. Sure enough, you catch it, a single, drawn-out snore, loud enough that you let your feet fall, shuffling the rest of the way to the bathroom across the hall.

You immediately crank the shower on, climbing in as soon as you see steam. Lathering your skin with citrus-scented body wash, the smell of sex washes off your body and down the drain.

The warm water soothes your sore muscles; bittersweet relief. You stand there until the stream grows icy, stepping out and toweling yourself off just as you hear the familiar blare of your dad’s alarm on the other side of the wall.

By the time you’ve dressed and made your way downstairs, he’s already in the kitchen, nursing a cup of coffee with his back to you. 

Sink empty, counters borderline sparkling, a coaster tucked under his warm mug — your father is a neat man. He does not take kindly to mess.

God forbid, anybody disrupt the sacred balance of his home; move something and forget to put it back, break something of his that should be kept intact.

“Hey.”

“Hey, kiddo,” he yawns. Turns to face you. “You were up early. Heard the shower going.”

“Couldn’t sleep,” you lie.

“Something on your mind?”

Heat blooms across your chest and up your neck. There’s no way he knows — you’ve been far too careful. Still, you’re on edge, and the question lodges itself between your ribs uncomfortably as you frantically search for an answer.

“Uh, n-no,” you stutter. “Just work stuff, I guess.”

He seems to buy it, reaching for the percolator and re-filling his mug with a sigh, “Just gotta give it time. You only just started. Plus, it’s your first job out of school. They don’t expect you to know it all right away.”

It’s good advice, if not misguided. You nod as if you’re absorbing it, taking it straight to heart. As if your mind isn’t preoccupied.

You grab a mug from the cabinet. Fill it with coffee and creamer. Perch yourself at the breakfast table and take a slow, steadying sip.

The caffeine has just about seeped into your bloodstream when-

-there’s a knock at the door.

Your dad shoots you a puzzled look, one which you immediately return. Who could that be, so early on a Wednesday morning?

And when he pushes open the door to reveal none other than Joel, you just about fall out of your chair. Your nails absentmindedly dig into the wood of the table in an attempt to brace yourself.

“Oh, buddy — hey! Come on in,” your dad says, patting him on the back as he steps over the threshold. “Wasn’t expecting you.”

You grasp the handle of your mug like a lifeline. For a fleeting moment, you worry the ceramic will shatter in your hands.

Joel is dressed — blue cotton t-shirt covering his broad back and the deep, red scratches you left there when you dug your nails into skin, your legs hiked over his hips and your face tucked into his chest.

The pair of boxers peeking over the waistband of his jeans are different from the ones you pulled off of him last night, the ones he shimmied back into before you slept cradled in his arms.

He’s a different Joel here, now — your father’s friend, your neighbor — not the man who breaks you down with his tongue or the one who calls you his good girl while you take his entire, throbbing length. 

No, this Joel, standing in your kitchen in the presence of your father, has never betrayed him. Hasn’t tasted his friend’s daughter or felt the tight embrace of her wet, warm cunt around his cock. This Joel is reliable, honest, not one to do harm.

You do not desire this Joel, cannot. You must look at him with apathetic eyes. Must keep the boat of your longing at bay. 

Easier said than done. It’s as if your desire for him is a feral beast, fed by his touch and left starving in its wake. You feel like you’ve just run a marathon, sweat beading at your collar as you not-so-subtly follow the subconscious flex of his hands, the bunching of fabric over his biceps.

His voice bounces off the backsplash, and your fingers tighten around the handle of your mug.

“Yeah, I uh — I went to make myself coffee and realized I was out. Was hopin’ you might have some to spare?”

He can’t be serious. He came over for coffee? He couldn’t get some on the road?

“I’m afraid she took the last of it,” your dad’s eyes point to you, and you ignore the burn of Joel’s gaze when his follow.

“Ahh,” he says. “‘ts okay. I’ll grab some on my way in.” 

His fingers taptaptap on the edge of the countertop, bottom lip tucked between his teeth like there’s something else. Another reason he came here.

And then you spot it — your wallet, dark red leather, poking out the top of Joel’s back pocket. 

You must’ve left it in his room before you hurried home. Somewhere amongst the mess of trinkets and trash on his dresser. You half-remember dropping it there last night as he’d kneeled in front of you and peppered kisses up the length of your leg.

Thankfully, your dad is oblivious as ever, giving Joel the perfect opportunity to inconspicuously slip you your wallet when he turns around and crosses the kitchen, placing his empty mug in the sink. 

Joel sidesteps once, twice, extending his arm and snapping it back as soon as you have the wallet in your grasp.

Your father clears his throat. Spins to find Joel exactly where he was. “I’ve been thinking,” he starts, wrestling a slice of bread out of the bag and dropping it into the toaster, “I gotta set you up with this co-worker of mine, Deb.”

Joel freezes. You watch as the color drains from his face and his large hand anxiously cards through dark curls. You’re pretty sure you freeze too, breath caught somewhere in your throat until your dad turns to you and you remember to exhale. 

“You know Deb, right, honey?” he asks. You mentally flick through the rolodex of your dad’s coworkers. 

There’s Leanne, tall redhead, hosted a potluck a few months back at which you tasted the worst mac & cheese you’ve ever had. And Barbara from accounting, who he got into a heated argument with over who makes the best BBQ in the city. You only remember her name because he hadn’t shut up about how wrong her opinion was for a full week. 

This woman actually thinks the Smoke Shop has got better ribs than Lou’s. I said to her, Barbara, your taste buds must be absolutely torched.

But Deb? You don’t recall a Deb. Still, you’re pretty sure you hate her, just in hearing her name in this context. 

You shake your head, no. 

“Well, I guess you haven’t seen her in a while. She was there that day I brought you into the office.”

“When I was ten?” you retort. 

“Yeah, I guess it was that long ago, huh?”

You shrug. He returns his attention to Joel. “Anyway, Deb – she’s around your age, just got divorced about a year back, and she’s a real nice woman. I think you two would really hit it off.”

“Is that so?” Joel replies. You swear his voice wavers. If your dad notices, he doesn’t say anything.

“You’ll like her Joel, I promise. I mean, when’s the last time you went out with a nice lady? Not since – what was her name — Jean? And if things were going well with her, I’d hope you’d tell your old friend.” The toaster pops, and he retrieves his slice of toast. Grabs a butter knife from the utensil drawer.  

“No, I ain’t seeing Jean,” Joel sighs. Flashes you an apologetic glance as your dad slathers his toast in artificial purple jam, blissfully unaware.

“Well, you gotta get back out there!” 

Joel’s gaze rolls to the ceiling. “I don’t know – I’m just not real interested in datin’ right now.”

You exhale, then — a quiet declaration of relief that seems to go unnoticed — unperturbed even when your dad continues his pitch. 

I’ve known this woman for years Joel, I’m telling you, the two of you’d be the perfect match; she’s a looker too, real pretty.

Ew. Tuning him out, you check the clock, find that you only have a few minutes before you need to get going. You stand from the table and make your way toward the sink with your now-empty coffee mug in hand.

Would I ever lead you astray? your dad is asking just as you brush past Joel. His hand, idle by his side, catches the fabric of your blouse and you have to fight to ignore the pinprick of electricity it ignites under your skin.

“No, I know,” Joel grumbles. “I trust your judgment ‘n all, ‘ts just-”

“Will you just give her a chance?”

“Jesus; fine.”

The mug slips from your grip, falls into the sink with a clang.

Your dad glares at you, expression softening only when you gesture to the still-intact ceramic lying on its side in the basin.

He’s quickly distracted, then, jotting a series of numbers down onto a scrap of notebook paper, the blue ink pressed in so hard that it’s beginning to bleed through. 

“Atta boy,” he drawls, sliding it across the counter. Joel pinches it between two fingers, folds the paper without looking at it and stuffs it into his front pocket. 

“Promise you’ll give her a call tonight? I may or may not have already talked you up, and I need to know you’re not gonna make me look bad here.”

Joel has to see you staring at him out of the corner of his eye. He must. If looks could kill, he’d be six feet under already. But he’s refusing to meet your gaze, eyes glued to the cabinet directly in front of him as he nods. “Yeah, I’ll call her tonight,” he says, a small, unconvincing smile pulling at the corner of his lips. 

He’s actually agreeing to this?

You need to get out of here before you say something rash.

The anger bubbles in you slowly, then all at once, threatening to boil over as you slip on your shoes and sling your bag over your shoulder. 

Marching toward the door, you offer a half-hearted bye, not bothering to look back before you leave.

The office is already milling with people by the time you stroll in, ten minutes late. 

The conversation between Joel and your dad is still running laps in your head as you sneak past your boss’s door.

It sticks there through the morning and well into the afternoon, your dad’s words an incessant earworm: I think you two would really hit it off.

The thing is — you can’t blame Joel for saying yes to the setup. Not really. Your situation is complicated, messy, bound to end badly.

Maybe he’d be happier with Deb. 

They could take walks together, stroll through the grocery store or down the street  hand-in-hand. Throw dinner parties and shamelessly gush about their relationship to their friends. All without fear of being caught doing something wrong.

Because that’s what this is, you and Joel — it’s wrong. Not like you weren’t already well aware of that. Leave it to some woman you’ve never met to rub it in.

The day passes infuriatingly slow.

The pile of emails in your inbox only grows larger by the time you’re due to clock out, stack of reports on your desk barely touched. You wince when your boss stops by your cubicle on her way out, eager for an update.

“Sorry, Linda; a couple of these were more time-consuming than I’d hoped,” you lie. But you can tell she doesn’t buy it, not one bit, her expression souring as you shuffle through papers.

“I need these done by the end of the week, no matter what.”

“Of course,” you mutter, face heating with embarrassment. “I’ll get them done and on your desk by Friday.”

“Thanks.” Her heels are already clacking on tile when you open your mouth to apologize again, your sorry lost to the ether.

You gather your things and scramble to your feet as soon as she’s out of view, not sticking around to watch your computer power down. By the time you get to your car, Joel’s number is already dialed on your phone.

He picks up after two rings.

“Darlin’ — are you okay?”

It’s admittedly uncharacteristic for you to call him so early. You usually wait until after dark, when you’ve both retreated to your respective bedrooms, away from listening ears.

But this can’t wait. It’s been eating at you all day, digging into your work. If you don’t talk to him about it, you’re going to end up unemployed. You don’t bother to ask if he’s still on the job site, around other people. “You’re going on this date.” It’s not a question. More of an accusation.

“Baby,” he sighs. You try your best to ignore his molasses drawl and the way it seeps into your chest. 

“Why didn’t you say no?” 

“How could I?” he groans. “There’s your dad, askin’ me if I’m seein’ someone, sayin’ he’s already told this lady about me – what am I supposed to say?”

“I don’t know.” Your voice comes out a whine. “Make something up. Tell him you’ve taken a vow of celibacy.”

He laughs, low and breathy on the other end. “Yeah, baby. Think he’d believe that one, f’sure.”

“Fuck,” you huff. “I just— I don’t-“

You want to tell him not to go. To cancel. Fake his own death. Do whatever it takes to get out of this. But you have no right, not really. The two of you aren’t dating. You don’t have any control over what he does or who he sees. And you don’t want that, no. You just want him to choose you.

“I don’t wanna go, darlin’. I really don’t. But if I do this, I think it’ll get him off my back for a while. He won’t have a reason to suspect that I’m foolin’ around with his daughter.”

Fooling around. His phrasing is a metaphorical punch in the gut.

It’s not exactly a lie. You haven’t put a label on this thing, whatever it is. It’s been purely physical: lips slotted to lips, tongues pressed together, swapped sweat and saliva. But hearing it reduced to two words, words with such a casual connotation — as if you haven’t been driven by overwhelming desire — makes your stomach churn.

Joel doesn’t seem to clock it when you go quiet, a cocktail of rage and sorrow sloshing around your insides. “It’s for the best,” he adds, a shot of hard, burning liquor. 

“Yeah,” you say defeatedly. Choke back the pathetic tears that creep up your throat. “For the best.”

He ends the call with the excuse of bad cell reception. Promises to talk to you later. You’re not sure that you believe him.

The phrase fooling around curls up in your head, a wet dog, its fur dripping into the crevices of your rattled brain the entire drive home.

You dodge Joel’s calls for the remainder of the week.

There’s no use in talking to him when you have nothing to say, when you know any words you attempt will be overtaken by tears.

Even so, it doesn’t stop him from trying. His number lights up the screen of your phone at least twice a day.

He leaves voicemails that you do not listen to. You can’t. The last thing you need is his syruppy drawl in your ear. You’ll break; you know you will.

So instead, you delete them. Rid yourself of temptation.

But you still ache for him — a devastating truth. You lumber through the days, bones heavy with hurt. Find yourself kept up at night by thoughts of Joel and the infuriatingly soothing timbre of his voice, the intoxicating callous of his fingertips against your soft skin. 

It’s a lonely thing, yearning for Joel Miller.

On Friday, your father beams at the dinner table. He’s grinning like a child as he stuffs a forkful of rice into his mouth.

“Joel and Deb’s date is tomorrow,” he says. “Think they’ll really hit it off, don’t you?”

You’re dumbfounded for a long moment — can’t believe that this is your life now: being asked about your thoughts on Joel and the ever-elusive Deb as a couple. When it takes too long for you to answer, your father’s fork stills pointedly on his plate, and you sputter.

“Oh! I mean, I don’t know. Like I said, I don’t remember Deb.” You can’t help your condescending tone. Your dad doesn’t seem to catch it anyway. 

“Well,” he says, “I think they’ll be a match. Hoping so, anyway. The man has been such a hermit lately — maybe if he has a lady, he’ll get out more!”

“You sound real excited,” you grumble. Stab four peas on the prongs of your fork.

“It is exciting. I’ve never set anyone up before. And the best part is, the place they’re going to — the Tavern — it’s got rooms you can rent out for wedding receptions. Just imagine if down the line, they got mar-“

“Dad,” you stop him. You think you’ll be physically sick if you let him finish that sentence. “Sorry, I just — I’m really tired, all of a sudden. I think I’m going to head to bed early.”

It’s not a complete lie. You’re emotionally exhausted as a result of the past couple days. Sleep sounds like a much-needed, blissful escape right now.

Your dad doesn’t question you. He just nods. Swipes your plate from in front of you and brings it to the sink along with his.

Of course, you find it impossible to actually drift off that night. Tossing and turning, you battle the glaring urge to get up, slink into the home-office and look up directions to the Tavern. 

Not that you’re planning to go there anytime soon — you’re just curious. That’s all. 

Around midnight, you give up, pad down the hallway and into the room parallel yours. The computer dials up slowly, and you chew your bottom lip as you wait. 

You snatch a piece of paper from the printer and a pen from the #1 Dad mug that sits next to the monitor. Click on the internet icon and type the words into the search bar.

This is definitely a bad idea. Maybe the worst you’ve had in a while.

You jot the address down anyway.

Downtown Austin is buzzing with life. 

Patrons spilling out of bars, tourists striding down the street in their brand new Stetsons – it almost distracts you from the task at hand. 

At just past seven, you’d told your dad you were going out, meeting a friend for drinks. He’d been a bit taken aback, seeing as you’re not very social these days, but he’d seemed happy. Relieved. 

That’s not what you’re doing, of course.

No – in reality, you’re turning into the parking lot attached to the Tavern. It’s packed to the brim with cars, but you still manage to find Joel’s truck, its license plate number burned into the back of your mind after countless mornings of absently reading it as you snuck past.

It’s idle and empty when you inch by, and even though you knew he’d be here, on this date, your heart still sinks. Because maybe a tiny part of you had hoped he’d stand Deb up. 

You should leave. It was stupid to come here in the first place. What are you going to do — storm inside and demand that he leave with you?

You consider it for half a second, groaning when you realize how pitiful you are. Defeated, you swing your car into a spot at the back, facing the building, and shift it into park. You hug the steering wheel dejectedly.

From here, you have a straight-shot view of the restaurant’s entrance, a set of double doors at the side of the building. Groups spill out every so often, every pair that emerges causing your back to arch reflexively.

Joel and Deb are probably discussing their interests right now, bonding over a shared connection with your dad. You can vividly picture the smile likely plastered across his face — the same one you’ve elicited with sweet filth whispered in his ear.

And you’re here, sitting in your running car, watching the door. Your pulse thumps obnoxiously loud in your ears.

Minutes pass like molasses, slow and thick. You watch the clock on the car radio obsessively, betting with yourself on what time they’ll leave. After thirty minutes of nothing, you’re convinced that they’re going to close the place out.

But then the door opens again, and you straighten up, immediately met with the sight of Joel and Deb. 

She’s talking animatedly, eyes widening every few words, blonde hair wafting around her narrow face. It’s undeniable that she’s stunning, even from far away; possesses the kind of beauty you see on magazine covers in line at the grocery store. The jealousy that pools in your gut burns like acetone in an open wound.

She takes his arm as they walk toward the parking lot, and he lets her, despite the rest of his body appearing strangely rigid.

You wonder if he’ll take her home. Lead her to his truck, help her up the step to the passenger seat and sneak a look at her ass under her dress before shutting the door. If they’ll leave her car in the lot for the night, come back to retrieve it in the morning once he’s helped her forget about her loser ex-husband; let the scent of her perfume seep into the bed sheets to cover up yours.

But he doesn’t lead her to his truck. You watch as they unexpectedly turn down a row of cars, disappearing from your view completely, his arm still locked with hers. 

He could still kiss her. Press her against the car. Promise her that he’ll call — and he will, first thing tomorrow. He’s probably just being a real gentleman. Treating her like a woman he might want to marry someday. 

Maybe he knows, after just one date, that she’s his soulmate. He’ll buy the ring in a couple weeks. They’ll be engaged in a month’s time, and he’ll say he just couldn’t wait any longer. 

She’s the one thing I’ve been missing.

You stew in the agonizing unknown for what feels like hours before Joel materializes once again, backside illuminated by headlights as he strides toward his truck.

And then — he stops. You see the exact moment he notices your car in the parking lot, his eyebrows threading together and his hands splaying over his hips.

He’s staring directly through the windshield. At you.

Fuck.

He takes a few slow steps. Stops in front of the hood. Narrows his eyes and flexes his jaw.

With a deep breath, you unlock the doors. Gesture for him to get in the passenger side. 

He immediately rounds the car, prying the door open and climbing inside just as a SUV pulls out the row he and Deb had walked down. 

The door slams when he yanks it closed. The sound echoes through the cab of the car.

“You wanna fuckin’ explain what you’re doin’ here?” he snaps. You’re afraid to look him in the eye, embarrassment and now, anger, spooling hot behind your ears.

You know you’re in the wrong. You shouldn’t have followed him. But does he have to be so hostile?

When your gaze finally meets his, he looks — distraught — jaw clenched and lips set in a straight line. His fingers absently dig into denim-covered thighs.

“I don’t know,” you mumble, “I just wanted to see how you were with her.” And it’s the truth; not one you want to be admitting right now, to him, but it’s the truth nonetheless.

“Doesn’t give you the right to spy on me.”

“So what was I supposed to do? Sit at home and mope while the guy I was seeing is on a date with someone else? Oh no, I’m sorry,” you throw your hands up, form air quotes with your fingers, “the guy I was fooling around with.”

This seems to strike a nerve. His jaw twitches, and his fingers still on his lap.

“It wasn’t like that,” he grits

“No? Isn’t that all this was to you: fooling around?”

There’s a beat. Joel sighs. 

“No — fuck, no. Of course not.”

His expression softens. A crack in solid stone. “I tried callin’ you,” he says, voice barely above a whisper.

“I know,” you admit.

He nods. Another beat.

“Did you kiss her?” you ask.

“No.” He says it with intent, with promise, eyes firmly locked on yours now. 

Your mouth goes dry.

“No?”

“No,” he repeats. “I didn’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I didn’t want to.”

“You don’t want her?” 

“No,” he says flatly, his pupils bulging in the lamplight, black bleeding into the brown of his irises. “I don’t want her.” 

“Why not?” 

He leans forward. His weight presses into the center console and his breath fans your face — warm, tinged with the scent of cheap beer.

“I don’t want her,” he says, voice an octave lower, “because I want you. I thought you knew that?” 

The radio drones between the two of you, some classic rock song you think you recognize flitting through the speaker. Your pulse beats staccato in your throat, off tempo.

“You want me?” you ask, a little breathless, and the next words you say are beyond dumb, beyond reckless, but you say them anyway. “Prove it.”

Joel doesn’t hesitate. He closes the slight distance between you and kisses you, hard, his tongue frantically sliding against yours through parted lips.

It’s sloppy, and desperate, and you feel drunk on the taste of him, on longing laced with carnal need. He’s groaning into your mouth, grabbing your head with both hands, burying his fingers in your hair — as if he can’t get close enough, as if he’ll only be satisfied once he’s swallowed you whole. You’re pretty sure you want him to.

Your hands move frantically to his t-shirt, then, bunch into the fabric and pull. You need to feel the skin underneath, need to rove your hands along his bare chest. He accommodates, tugging the shirt by the back of the collar, lips separating from yours ever-so-briefly to bring it over his head and toss it onto the backseat. 

And then he’s back on you, licking into your mouth again, eliciting a whimper from you when his hand wraps around the side of your throat, just under your jaw. 

Your palms splay across his torso, wander over warm, golden skin. You’ve missed this, god, you’ve missed this — but it’s still not enough. You need to feel more of him. In your mouth, in your hand, in your cunt — you’re not picky. Just need him in whatever way he’ll provide.

“Joel,” you whimper into his mouth, fingers winding around his bicep. 

He pulls back. Peers at you through hooded eyes. “What is it, baby?” he asks through labored breaths. 

“Need you — please.”

He immediately unbuckles your seatbelt. Lowers his seat back and manhandles you onto his lap. You go easily; slot yourself to him with legs folded on either side of his thighs. 

Wrapping your arms around the back of his neck, you grind down into his lap. His cock strains against denim underneath you. He groans when you swivel your hips and brush the heft of it again with your clothed heat.

“You gonna let me fuck you?” he asks into your mouth, his forehead pressed to yours.

Your breath catches. 

You know what he’s really asking: are you going to  let him fuck you here, in the parking lot of a public establishment, where anybody could see?

But you don’t care. In fact, you’re way past caring, the emptiness of your cunt too painful to ignore any longer. Let them watch him take what’s his.

You nod frantically. “Yes,” you pant. “Please.”

Joel nods too, as if he’s accepting his fate. He’s going to fuck his friend’s daughter in the passenger seat of her car. There’s no way around it — not when you’re begging for it. He’s going to give you what you need.

“Okay,” he soothes, “I got you baby.” 

He helps you out of your pants, then; clumsily maneuvers them down and off your legs along with your panties and tosses them aimlessly into the back.

He doesn’t bother to take his jeans off. Lets you unzip them and pop the button open, your nimble fingers making quick work of it. And then you’re pulling his cock out of his boxers, stiff and leaking in your grasp.

You steady yourself with hands on his shoulders just as he begins to pepper placating kisses along your neck. “Go ahead baby,” he whispers into your ear. “Take it; it’s yours.”

His head falls back against the seat as you stroke him a few times and line his cock up with your dripping entrance, his hands clasped around your waist. 

You sink down slowly, savoring every inch of him as he burrows in deeper. He’s so thick, stretching you like it’s the first time again, your walls fluttering as they relax around his cock.

“Fuck,” Joel slurs, fingers digging into your skin impatiently when you still, fully seated on him.

“Gotta move baby — please move.”

He’s so fucking deep, though, his cockhead bumping your cervix, and your entire body feels gelatinous atop him. A cloying sort of heat hangs around your head. You swivel your hips weakly, your forehead falling to rest on his with a heavy sigh.

Joel is happy to take control, bucking up into you so hard you see stars. You can’t suppress the string of moans that spill from your mouth, and Joel doesn’t seem to mind. He’s just as loud, anyway, his broken sounds bleeding into yours, bouncing off glass and leather.

Neither of you can muster an actual word, though, not with him rutting up into you, sheathing himself in your pussy over and over again. He’s relentlessly hitting that spot — the one that has you practically clinging to him for dear life. 

It’s approaching too quickly; he’s going to make you come.

One of your hands flies to the roof of the car in an attempt to brace yourself, flat palm pressing into it so hard you worry it’ll pop. 

Joel takes the opportunity to drag you down in his lap, spearing you on his cock, and the sudden change in angle makes you cry out.

“Oh f— ahh, oh my—“

“That’s it,” he coos, “you got it, babygirl.”

His words tip you over the edge, your entire body locking up as you gush around him. You’re wetting his lap, slick splattering his thighs, and he loves it, his fervid moan telling you so.

His movements begin to falter then, hips stuttering underneath you as he chases his own high.

“Cmon, baby,” you goad, “please fill me up.”

He grunts when he spills inside, his face nestling in your chest, heaving as he works through it and begins to come down. You don’t move, not that Joel would let you, still holding you on his lap like he’s afraid to let you go.

You nuzzle into his embrace as his cock softens inside you.

You stay like that for a while, probably too long given that anybody could easily look into the car and see you straddling him. You don’t have the energy to care.

Eventually, you lift your head from its spot on Joel’s chest. Look up at him with bleary eyes.

“Joel,” you say.

He meets your gaze, face shiny with sweat and his hair a mess. He looks gorgeous like this, you think. The way only you get to see him.

“Yeah?” He grazes along your arm with featherlight fingers. His touch raises goosebumps on your skin.

“Did you mean it?”

“Mean what?”

“About wanting me.” In truth, you’re not sure you want the answer. But you need to know, definitively, if Joel is yours. You’re done sharing him.

“Oh, baby,” he drawls. “Of course I do. You’re all I want. Do you want me?”

And it’s a stupid question. He has to know that. You’re nodding before he can even finish it. “Yes,” you breathe. “I want you, Joel”

“Then it’s settled. It’s me and you. No more…interlopers.”

You giggle. Reluctantly separate yourself from his body and re-dress. You settle back into the driver’s seat with achy legs.

You’ve never felt more content than you do in this moment.

Still, you’ll have to hide — won’t be able to share the news of your new relationship with friends or coworkers, your dad — and neither will Joel. 

You don’t care much, not as long as he’s yours, but you need to be sure he feels the same.

“Joel,” you stop him as he opens the passenger-side door to get out. He stills with one leg swung out the door.

“Yeah, darlin’?”

“Are you sure you don’t mind…being a secret? Don’t mind keeping me a secret?”

He looks at you like you have two heads.

He pulls his leg back into the car. Shuts the door and leans over the console again.

Taking your chin between his fingers, he forces your gaze. Makes sure you’re listening.

“I want you — doesn’t matter who knows or doesn’t know. Long as you’re mine.”

Your chest tightens, and your heart squeezes inside your ribcage.

“I’m yours?”

He smiles. Presses a chaste kiss between your eyes, on the tip of your nose, on your lips. The same way he did the other morning. 

It all feels somehow sweeter, now.

“Yeah, angel. You’re mine. My girl.”

end notes: tysm for reading! please consider commenting and/or reblogging if you enjoyed! I've been toying with the idea of turning this into a series so lmk if that's something you'd be interested in hehe.

Also, I hopped on the bandwagon and made a sideblog for notifs! I'll be doing away with a taglist from here on out, so follow @joelscurlsupdates & turn on notifications if you wanna be notified when I post a new fic :-)

tag list: @janaispunk @amanitacowboy @fhatbhabie @frannyzooey @lola8888673

[gracieheartspedro]

Who We Are

pairing: fem!reader x dbf!joel miller

description: when your father falls ill, his patrol partner and best friend, joel miller finds a way to aid in his recovery. but this solution is complicated and requires you to take on a week-long hunt for supplies and resources. being stuck on the road with an older guy you've been crushing on for ages won't be so bad, right? wrong. because he's been pining after you, too. and one of you will have to give in evenutally.

word count: 17k words. this one is a LONG ONE. get a snack.

warnings: MINORS DNI! this is 18+, post!outbreak joel, age gap (reader is in her 30s, joel is in his mid 50s), i don't describe the reader all that much, consumption of alcohol, illness that requires medical intervention, blood, guns, killing of infected, forced proximity, joel is kinda pervy?, talks of loss of family members, joel lies about his past, oral (f receiving), face sitting, unprotected p in v, overstimulation, dirty talk, creampie, after care.

author's note: ... hi folks! this one is a long one, so like I said, grab a snack and get comfy! I was going to make this multiple parts but I'm eager and unhinged. to be honest, this story is better as one big one shot anyway. I had a very intense time editing so I know I probably missed some things. I may write little branch off stories if you guys enjoy it enough. anyway, enjoy! <3 lemme know what you think!

“Didn’t know you were workin’ tonight, darlin’,” Your father’s Southern drawl brings you out of your daze. You had been cleaning glasses for the last hour and a half. Surprisingly, the Tipsy Bison wasn’t busy on a Wednesday night. You had been keeping busy by cleaning and serving two visitors. 

You look up, noticing your father and his patrol partner wander into the bar. They find a seat at the bar, right in front of you as you dry some whiskey glasses. 

“I work every night this week, Pops,” You mutter, turning back to the liquor bottles to grab his favorite bourbon. You knew exactly what he came here for. He wanted to pester you on your shift and watch you write under his partner’s gaze. He thought your little crush was entertaining. You have made comments to your dad in the past about how you thought Joel was nice to look at and your Dad would just laugh. He would jokingly wiggle his finger at you and tell you to find someone your age. 

Little do you and your father know, Joel feels similarly about you. The first moment he saw you, he thought about how if he was a young buck, he’d lock you down as soon as he could. The age held him back initially, never even entertaining your subtle glances or welcoming smiles. Then when he realized who your father was, he immediately shut down all thoughts like that in his head. You were strictly off-limits.

“Well good, keeps you busy.”

You did not enjoy the idea of working every weeknight with a bunch of drunks, but this job was a bit better than constantly shoveling horse shit. Instead, you got to mingle with the locals. Maybe find yourself a man, since you were in your early thirties and unmarried.

Joel loved coming to the Bison when you were here. It meant he got to drink a whiskey neat and watch you twirl and rush around the bar. Tonight was slower, though, so he got the privilege of speaking with you, which was rare. 

You pour your Dad his bourbon, finally glancing up at his partner who’s practically ogling at you. You made a conscious effort to avoid his piercing brown eyes. 

Joel Miller was a dream boat, god damn. Every time he glanced in your direction, you would freeze up and stutter out a very jumbled “hello”. He was quite guarded, never much to talk. When he did finally speak, you found yourself reeling over his deep voice. 

“Whatcha want, Mr. Miller?”

His lips twinged, his eyes flicking up to yours. He loves hearing you say that, he thinks to himself.  You hand off the bourbon to your Dad, waiting for a response. 

“Whatever he’s having is fine, sweetheart,” He says plainly, nodding toward the half-empty bottle. Your knees could buckle at the nickname, but you keep your composure. You can’t crumble that easily. 

You three slide into a conversation about their patrolling, what they found that day, and the game plan for tomorrow. You make a sly comment about how they needed to find some meaning in life other than patrol. Your dad laughs, and Joel just stares blankly at you. You instantly want to take back the comment and never speak again, ever. Instead, you just continue drying the glasses you just washed. 

When your dad finished his bourbon, you noticed his expression change from relaxed to pained. 

“You okay there?” You ask, grabbing his glass and placing it in the sink below the counter. He rubs his chest, letting out a deep guttural cough. Joel looks perplexed while you get closer and notice the blood splattering into your dad’s palm. 

“It’s nothing, just a cough,” He manages to say, his voice hoarse. You scan his face, knowing immediately that he’s lying.

“Bullshit, you’re coughing up blood,” You reach towards some towels, tossing them on the counter in front of him, “You should probably go get checked out, Dad.”

Joel quips, “Yeah, don’t need you getting sick when we are out tomorrow. Why don’t you stop by the infirmary before you go home?”

Your Dad just shakes his head, “You two are being dramatic. It’s nothing, I promise.”

Your Dad was known for downplaying his pain and sicknesses. You remember being a little girl traveling with him across the country and every time he got hurt, he’d just suck it up. He shattered his left pinky years ago and he resolved to just chop it off. So that’s what he did. He was lucky it never got infected. But he was known just to blow off all his ailments, reminding you he’s beat all the other odds. 

So instead of fighting with him, you just nod all the while, stealing a long glance at Joel. He’s finishing his drink and you can’t help but watch his neck. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows and you fixate on it for a bit too long. 

You’re brought out of the trance when he slams the glass down, his dark brown eyes drooping. Joel always looked tired, but you knew after the day they had, he was actually tired. 

You had a couple more hours at the Bison before you had to close up, so you bid them a farewell, reminding your Dad that you’d be home before he stumbles off to bed. He never slept much, he would just read in the living room until you got home usually. 

Joel waves you a farewell, thanking you quietly for the drink. 

“Don’t be a stranger,” You say as he turns his back to you to head for the door. He turns a bit, giving you a slight smirk as he reaches for the door. 

You spend the rest of your shift daydreaming about what it’d be like to be with a man. You spent most of your time in Jackson without giving much of the men your age a thought. More than half were taken, anyway. While you let your mind wander, you realize your imagination is placing Joel in the spot of all the made-up situations with this said man. 

-

You lock the bar door behind you, tugging on it to ensure it’s snug in the latch. The air was shifting, the cool warm summer turning into a slightly chilly fall. You wore a long sleeve today, luckily, or else you’d be shivering on your way home. The walk home wasn’t a long one. 

When you reach your front door, you realize the living room light is on. Dad’s awake.

But as you reach to turn the knob, you hear ghastly breathing from the other side. When you swing the door open, you see your Dad in his recliner, his hand over his chest. He’s dry heaving, trying to get out a cough. 

“Hey, hey,” You quickly race to his side, “Are you okay? What’s happening?”

He breathes in deeply, “I just can’t seem to catch my breath. Something isn’t right.”

You have never seen him so panicked. You nod, understanding that your next step is to get him to the infirmary. He should have gone on his way home. You didn’t know if anyone would be there and you surely didn’t know if they would be able to treat his symptoms. 

“Are you in pain?” You ask, grabbing under his arms to lift him out of his chair. He’s wobbly, so you keep your hand under his armpit and use your other free arm to balance him. He shakes his head. 

“Just weak.”

Your heart sinks. Never in your life has your father admitted to feeling weak or sick. It was like as soon as he got home, his body just gave out. You help him into his shoes and start your trek back towards the middle of town. You wish you didn’t have to walk him so far because it felt like with every 5 feet, his lungs were giving out and sending him into a coughing fit. You probably woke the entire town trudging him through the streets. When you get to the front step of the infirmary, you knock as loud as you can. Usually, they had an overnight shift nurse helping, having them watch over whoever was dragged there during the day. Dispensing medicine if need be. You knew a couple of the nurses, most of them your age or a bit older. 

When a familiar face opens the door, you feel a sense of relief. 

“Hey Sidney,” You greet her, sort of pushing your Dad into the room, still keeping your hands wrapped around his center, “Something’s wrong with Pops.”

She reaches out to help you with him, “Oh no, what’s going on?”

“Can hardly breathe,” Is all he can muster out. You look at Sidney, concern spread across your face. She nods, knowingly. 

Sidney was one of the nurses you trusted the most. She gave you stitches when you sliced your hand open on a glass bottle a couple of weeks ago. She was patient and gentle, always checking to see if you were doing alright as she sewed your skin together. She’s a former Firefly, probably in her 40s. She got trained by some doctors years ago so she knew a decent amount about all sorts of medical treatment. 

She takes hold of the situation completely, grabbing your Dad and walking him to a free bed near the door. She gets him to lie down and she starts scrambling for some supplies to do a quick once over of him. He looks pale and for some reason, very small, in the hospital bed. 

“It’s gonna be alright,” You say, poking his arm. You say it for him, but you mainly say it for yourself. He closes his eyes and nods. 

“Always is, kiddo.”

-

The news was not ideal. After observation and some tests, Sidney decided your father probably has pneumonia. The problem was, that Jackson was low on antibiotics and they would have to decide if your Dad’s case was urgent enough to give him some. 

It pissed you off, but you had to hold back your anger. This situation was out of Sidney’s control, but you knew exactly who to raise your voice to. Sadly, the city council was asleep in their beds, as it was 4 a.m. Sidney reassured you that she would ensure your father was looked after until the morning when they could discuss with everyone if it would be okay to give him some of the highly sought-after antibiotics. 

But for now, you should get some rest. 

Your father fussed at you while he was in and out of sleep, telling you that you needed to go home and sleep. Your body was plagued with exhaustion and your brain was hardly functioning. You would need to plead a good case, so even a couple of hours of sleep would do you good. You ask if you could occupy a bed nearby and Sidney agrees with a sympathetic smile. You curl up, trying to clear your brain of your racing thoughts. 

You can’t lose your father, he’s all you have. 

You need to remind the council of all your father does. 

You need him to get better. 

You need him. 

-

“We only have 4 vials of antibiotics,” Maria states, trying not to look you in the eyes. She feels horrible, but she knows deep down the rest of the council will probably reject your father using any. It was going to be a tough decision like this that made most of the people in the council think they were playing God, but it was real life. Would they give your 60-something-year-old father antibiotics for pneumonia or give it to a young child suffering from an infection? They had to think ahead and supplies were scarce. 

You cross your arms, waiting for the next shoe to drop. “And?”

Tommy stands up, knowing you will not like the next sentence. He practically guards Maria with his broad frame. He resembled Joel, with his dark hair and stern eyes. His were a bit softer. 

“We are low on resources, hun. We need to think ahead and ensure that the pros outweigh the cons of giving him one of those vials. You understand?”

“Why was this not a thought in the summer? When it was a good time to go seek some out? I just don’t under-”

“We had that sickness going around over the summer. Lots of people getting fevers. Before we knew it, Dr. Peters realized we were low. I had intentions to get out and try to find more, and trade with some people, but we just haven’t discussed it all yet. There’s a process. It was in the works.”

Your blood is boiling and your patience running out. Each second of arguing was another second your Dad could be closer to death. 

“Well, it’s a shitty fuckin’ process. Where can I go to get more, then? Is there another community we can trade with? A hospital we can scavenge? You guys can’t expect me to sit around and wait for him to get worse.”

Maria looks to Tommy, trying to wrack her brain for a response. Tommy’s lip twitches, knowing exactly what to say. He did not want you to do it, but he knew how you were. You’d do anything for your family. 

“There’s a hospital in Salt Lake that I’ve heard is practically untouched. Fireflies used to reside there and do tests. They probably left behind some supplies.”

You narrow your eyes, “Salt Lake? Isn’t that a whole week away?” 

You start to pace the room, trying to console yourself. You can’t just leave for that long and assume that everyone will take care of your Dad. Tommy places his hands on his hips, trying to figure out a resolution. He liked your Dad, always going to him if he needed help around the commune. Your Dad is always one to offer a helping hand and give solid advice. He didn’t want to watch him die, either. 

“How about this,” Tommy huffs, “How about we give him one of our vials and you and Joel head out to Salt Lake to scavenge that hospital? If we are right in our assumptions, there’s probably a lot of resources there. And Joel’s been there before.”

“Why are you roping Joel into this?” You press, crossing your arms. 

“Joel knows where to go. He can get you there in one piece.”

“Where am I going,” Joel’s presence takes you by surprise. You turn back at the front door of the infirmary, seeing Joel’s disheveled hair sticking up in every direction. He had red cheeks, probably from the jog he did to get there. As soon as he heard about your father, he booked it from the stables to his side. 

Tommy shoots Joel a knowing look, “You and her are gonna go back to Salt Lake. You think they have antibiotics at that hospital you took Ellie to?”

Joel’s visceral reaction sends you. His heart practically stopped when Tommy brought up the hospital. 

You start to sweat when he does, realizing you would have to travel that far with Joel Miller. 

He swallows, shifting his weight to his other leg. “Probably. Why can’t ya just give him what we have?”

Maria shakes her head at his response, “We have a long winter ahead of us, Joel. We have four vials left. This saves us from a council meeting where they shoot down everything. They won’t approve it. If I reassure them that you are going to get some more, they won’t mind if we give him one.”

He huffs, scratching his chin in contemplation. You knew this would not be ideal for him, but you’re willing to do anything, even if you had to do it alone. The four of you stand in silence while Joel wracks his brain for an excuse to say no. None comes to him. 

It’s not that he did not want to help you, he just does not want to relive some trauma with you by his side. He would have to swallow back all his emotions, all the while you would be posted up right next to him. He does not want you to see him falter under pressure.

“She can’t go alone, Joel,” Tommy quips, gesturing towards you. You were shaking, your body reacting before your brain even could. Your nerves were shot.

He shakes his head, “And if they don’t have the supplies?”

You didn’t even think that far. 

“They will,” Tommy says, matter-of-factly, “It’s our best bet. The Fireflies disbanded, there has to be stuff left behind.”

You don’t know how Tommy knows all this, but he must have good sources to know all these things. Joel nods at him, accepting his response. He looks back at you, trying to figure out how you feel about the proposition by reading your face. 

“Does that work for you?” His deep voice isn’t meant to be intimidating, but you flinch anyway at the question. 

“I don’t have much of a choice. My Dad needs the medicine. If you guys think we can make it there and back in one piece, I’ll do it.”

“We will leave tomorrow morning. In the meantime,” Joel waves over Sidney, who’s still sitting by your sleeping and dazed father, “Give him one of those vials.”

-

Joel sacrificing his time and effort for your father was unfathomable to you. Sure, Joel was a great friend of your Dad’s, but he truly didn’t owe you two anything. It made you enamored with him even more. 

As the day shifted into the evening, you sat by your Dad’s bed and waited for the antibiotics to kick in. His body needed rest, you knew that much because he slept more than he probably ever had in his lifetime. 

He was sweating out a fever, so every so often you’d pat his head with a cold rag. He would mumble a quiet “thank you” and then return to snoring. As the sun sets, you welcome Sidney back for her night shift. She checked your Dad’s vitals, telling you his lungs are already sounding a bit better. You stretch and yawn, cracking every bone in your body while you do. You were stuck in the same position for so long, elbows on your knees, your chin propped up by your hands. 

You had a long trip ahead of you, and you couldn’t lie, you were scared half to death. You did not want to come back and find your father dead. You were also terrified about going back outside of Jackson. You spent most of your last 20 years living in the wild and shitty QZ’s. You were always on edge out there, and then you found Jackson. Ever since then, life has been a little more hopeful. You were able to form relationships and have some simple enjoyment, after all this time. 

Your Dad finally wakes up when you start stirring more. His one eye opens first which makes you crack a smile. 

“Mornin’ Pops,” You joke, grabbing his warm hand, “That antibiotic should start working soon. You’ll be better in no time.”

“Yeah,” He croaks, “But I heard you’re going somewhere.”

You bite your lip, afraid to stress him out. You knew he would worry about you, he always did.  

“Yeah, me and Joel are going to get more supplies. Nothing too drastic,” You lie, brushing your thumb over his scarred knuckles, “You trust Joel enough to take care of me?”

It was the first time he laughed in the last 24 hours, “Course he will. He knows how much you mean to me. If he fucks up, he will get a load of me, that’s for sure.”

His voice was reassuring to hear, especially since he’s joking with you. 

“Okay, I believe you,” You mutter, “We leave tomorrow morning, so I need you to be good and get all the rest you can. I want you up and moving when I get back, you hear me?”

“Roger that, kiddo.”

-

“Mornin’ sunshine,” Your tone is sarcastic and Joel can tell. You did not expect to be stuck with Joel Miller alone for a week, especially outside the walls. 

He clears his throat as he finishes packing up his horse. 

“Mornin’,” He grumbles, patting his horse’s mane, “Let’s get you all set up. You’ll be takin’ your Dad’s horse, Ranger. He is already saddled up, just need to get your stuff on there.”

Luckily, you packed light. You brought a couple of changes of clothes, some food, some camping gear, and of course, your gun. 

Joel helps you tie down your bag and ensures all the straps he just put on are tight enough for you. You just watch him, enjoying how just takes control of the situation. He had the father instinct, always making sure everything would be safe and secure for the girls he loved. Or liked. Whatever.

You thank him, grabbing onto the saddle and flinging yourself up onto the horse. Ranger was truly your favorite horse in all of Jackson. He was the best behaved and the biggest. His mane was long and black and he loved to be brushed. You spent a lot of evenings riding him for fun, just enjoying his company. 

Joel gets on his horse, adjusting how he sits before he takes the reigns and guides you towards the main gates of Jackson. 

“You still sure you’re ready for a run like this?”

He’s giving you a chance to back out. But this was now an obligation. If you didn’t do this, you would indebted to everyone. You would be the person to blame if someone’s loved one died. Not really, but you felt that guilt. 

“Readier than I’ll ever be, Joel.”

-

“How is Ellie doing?”

You were burning to make conversation. You needed to rid your mind of all the anxiety surrounding your own life. Joel was too quiet, it made you feel queasy. He was too wrapped up in his thoughts. You were about 20 miles outside of Jackson, the sun was coming up through the foliage. 

He inhales sharply, “She’s a teenage girl. She’s grumpy.”

You grip onto the reigns of your horse, your body swaying back and forth with the trot. 

“I remember being that young and being constantly annoyed by my Dad’s nagging,” You chuckle, remembering the days of angst, “Are you annoying her, Joel?”

Joel scrunches his face at such allegations. If anything, Ellie was annoying him. 

“Course I’m not! Just… want to make sure she’s doing good. Which she is. Everyone tells me ‘bout how helpful she is.”

You think back to the last interaction you had with Ellie. She had been helping out at the stables when you were in charge of feeding and cleaning the horses before you got the job at the Tipsy Bison. Ellie wanted to know everything you knew, pestering you with silly questions like what their names were and why they were named what they were. 

“She’s very helpful,” You acknowledge, thinking about how enthusiastic she always was about learning, “You raised her right.”

He huffs, “Was hardly me. She’s just smart and raised herself.”

You did not quite understand the history between Joel and Ellie, but you knew Joel was not her biological father. You had no clue how they found each other or when. But you could see the love Joel had for Ellie. You remember him lighting up when he explained to you and your dad how she was the best shot amongst the recruits. 

Joel will probably never indulge you in the specifics of his relationship with Ellie, simply because it’s complicated. He never felt the need to explain himself to anyone but Tommy. 

“You had a hand in some of it, Joel. Give yourself a little credit.”

But Joel was never good at that. He was hard on himself, weary to accredit any of Ellie’s behavior to himself. 

The rest of the ride was occupied with the sound of leaves rustling. Joel spots a fallen tree that he says would be a good eating spot. You agree, hopping down off your horse with ease. You tie his reins up on a nearby branch and start digging through your saddle bag for the apple you packed for yourself. You were sick with unease all day. With everything going on in your life, the last thing on your mind was hunger. Plus, you were alone with a man that you had to put all your trust in. 

You pop a squat on the chipping bark and get out your pocket knife to start cutting the red fruit. Joel gets out a bag of jerky from his pack and finds a spot next to you. He looks over at you, perplexed at your food choice. 

“Just some fruit?” Joel interrogates, instantly knowing your hunger cannot be satiated by apples. No one can be satisfied with only fruit. 

Your stomach churns at your first bite, “Just not that hungry.”

That’s all the explanation he needs. You watch as he starts to munch on his bagged meat, cringing at the sound of his mouth. You try to block it out, but it’s eating away at your brain. You hated the sound of chewing, it was such a stupid pet peeve, but you couldn’t help yourself. Joel is oblivious, probably not even hearing how loud he’s being. You smack his arm out of instinct, something you did to your dad when he was being too obnoxious. 

He looks down at you with furrowed brows and annoyed eyes. 

“You’re eating too loud,” You say, wanting to smack yourself at how stupid it sounds out loud. 

He looks away, completely flabbergasted at the reaction. “Eating too loud? Really?”

You feel embarrassed for letting your brain get the best of you. So you just cut more of your apple off and slowly crunch on it. You try your best not to hyper-fixate on your chewing. When you’re in a trance, lost in your thoughts, Joel nudges you back. He’s getting you back, now. 

“Now you’re chewing too loud,” He jokes, popping another piece of his jerky in his mouth, “Should probably keep it down. So loud you may attract some infected.”

You can’t help but smile at his stupid rebuttal. You give him props for making you feel less foolish. 

“Sorry,” you mumble, eating another slice intentionally loud, “Can’t help myself. They are just so crunchy.”

You hear him giggle, his smile easing your churning stomach. 

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ll forgive you this one time.”

-

You knew the ride to this hospital would be long, but you didn’t realize how barren the landscape would be. You also didn’t realize how bad your ass would hurt. You and Joel finally pull off into some woods when the sun starts to set. Joel acts like he knows exactly how to navigate the woods, guiding his horse deeper and deeper. In between some large trees, you spot a lake. 

“Wanna go swimming?” You question after hours of no conversation. He glances back at you with a sly smirk on his face. When you look to your right, you notice a small path. Joel clicks his tongue for his horse to follow it. You two trot through the leaves, before coming upon a small decrepted cabin.

“This is us,” He states as he halts his horse. 

He had secretly always pictured taking you out here. He could not help but insert you into his small fantasies. Some nights he would imagine what it would be like to have you stick by his side forever. He always felt guilty afterward. 

You look at the building in wonder, completely speechless. You assumed you would be camping on the forest floor, not in an intimate cabin by a lake. You swing your leg over and slide off your saddle. Joel starts to tie up his horse nearby and you follow suit. You continue to look at the cabin, curious as to who kept up with it. It looked well maintained, besides some cobwebs at the peak of the roof. 

“Is this yours?”

He shakes his head, “No. Technically Tommy’s. He goes this way to get to another settlement about 50 miles south. He found this place on a whim and cleaned it up.”

You look around the area, seeing there’s even a fire pit right by the water. It had chairs and stones to outline the charred wood. You could not help but imagine what this place was before Tommy found it. How many fun nights were probably spent here by the original owner? If you had no one to go back to, you would just live here. But the more you think about that scenario, you think about how lonely you would probably get. Maybe if you had someone to stay with you. 

You finally look back at Joel. He’s standing on the stone path with his eyes locked on you. You get self-conscious for a moment, realizing he probably noticed how entranced you were with the surroundings. 

That’s exactly what he was thinking, too. How beautiful you stood in the shadows of the trees, your eyes curiously glancing around like a kid in a candy shop. You had him wrapped around your finger without even knowing it. 

“You good if we stay here overnight? Get back on the road tomorrow?”

How could you ever say no to an offer like that? 

You nod, swallowing back your insecurity, “Yeah, for sure.”

-

Joel could build a good fire. Watching him gather all the wood and place them into a perfect formation. As soon as he lights it, it builds and builds. When the warmth envelopes you, you start to finally feel at ease. Joel sits down with a stick, nudging the fire every so often.

He felt guilty. He felt like he was betraying your father, a man who was trusting him with his daughter. He should not be imagining how a little life in the woods would look like with you. He should not be picturing how beautiful you would look underneath him. He should not be having these devious thoughts about you. His eyes are trained on the flames as they build, trying to push those daydreams away. 

When his sleeve lifts as he toys with the charred wood, you notice the watch on his wrist. It looks ancient, the face of it shattered. You don’t realize you’re staring at it until he snatches his hand away from your view. 

“Sorry,” You retract, sitting further into the chair, “Your watch is broken.”

He places the stick next to his foot, finally out of his head for a moment, “Yeah, I’m aware.”

You were so stupid. You know not to pry further, knowing there’s probably a story and you don’t feel like you’re at a stage with Joel Miller to dive deeper. He notices how small you making yourself, and it makes him feel bad. He never wants to make you insecure. 

“Your necklace,” He starts, trying to place your mind somewhere else. It was a feature on your body that he noticed ages ago, but he never tried to beg the question, so this seemed like a great time to move the subject along. “Is it a moon?”

You reach up to your throat, feeling for the necklace you never took off. It feels like he almost wants to see if you will spill your story first. He is bad at reading women, sometimes. Most of the time. 

“Yeah, it was my sister’s.”

He feels stupid, instantaneously. As soon as those words fell from your lips, he put his face in his hands. 

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

Your feelings towards what happened 20 years ago were drastically different than how you feel now. You could still feel the horror and the pain you felt, but it wasn’t so gut-wrenching anymore. It honestly doesn’t even feel like it happened to you. 

You drop the crescent moon charm from your hands, “No, it’s okay. She died on outbreak day. She was a bit older than me, her name was Reagan.”

He looks up at you and just nods, taking in the information. You don’t know if it’s a gesture for you to continue to talk, but you take it as just that. 

“Her and my mom were at one of her soccer games when all hell broke loose. From what I heard, she was bit by one of her teammates and when me and my Dad were packing up our things to get out of there, I grabbed some of her stuff. A necklace, a sweatshirt, and her favorite pair of sneakers. I don’t know why. But yeah, this necklace is the only thing that survived 20 years. Sweatshirt got too small, shoes got too torn up.”

You don’t even notice the tears pricking in your eyes until you blink. You don’t even remember what she looks like, her face is kind of jumbled in your memory. You remember her hair though, long and brown and super curly. Joel just listens, his eyes trained on your hands as you nervously rub them together. When you peer up at him, you see the mutual pain written on his face. 

He thinks to his beautiful Sarah. His eyes fall to his broken watch. The pain is still very palpable. 

“‘m glad we have somethin’ from our people. Somethin’ to remember them by, ya’ know?”

You scan his broken watch and nod timidly. “Yeah, something to remember them by.”

-

You stand up after eating some more food you packed, ensuring you’re somewhat nourished before you go to sleep. Joel stares at the fire, his eyes heavy with exhaustion. He knows he has to sleep, but he knows you need it more. He’s willing to give up his hours for yours. 

“You want me to do first watch?” You quiz, hoping to get the answer no. Instead, he just shrugs. You cross your arms, a cool shiver going down your back as you step away from the fire. 

“I’ll start first,” He mumbles, grabbing his poking stick, “There’s a bed in there all ready for you. Get some rest, we got a long day tomorrow.”

You respond with a slight wag of your head, “Okay, goodnight, Joel.”

You turn on your heels and head towards the front door of the cabin. You creak the door open. It’s pitch black so you step back onto the small porch to grab the lantern Joel lit a while ago. You slowly creep through the one-room cabin, placing the lantern on the small table by the door. It lit up most of the room so you got a great look at the wooden framed bed, waiting for you to lay upon it. 

You feel a pang of guilt making Joel sit outside to guard you as you slept. You knew you needed rest. You also knew it would start getting colder and colder and that fire would die eventually. 

Joel could handle himself, after all. You would just have to push your worry aside. When you curl up onto the hard mattress, you think back to the last time you were left to trust another man to look after you as you slept. It was a traumatizing night, so instead of worrying yourself, you close your eyes and remind yourself that Joel is safe. Dad trusts Joel. Joel is a good man. 

Sleep eventually takes over, your soft snores rattling off the wooden walls. 

After a couple of hours, the shivering takes over Joel’s body, so he creeps into the cabin. The lantern is dimmer, slowly running out of fuel. He shakes his head, smiling to himself at your disregard for resources. He walks over to the small wood-burning oven, opening the door to it as quietly as he can. You don’t even stir. You’re a deep sleeper, he would remember. 

He starts a fire with the old coals, warming up the small space. Once he stands up from his squat, he hisses at the crack of his knees. He glances over at you, making sure he did not wake you. Nothing. 

You were a peaceful sleeper, your mouth slightly ajar. To Joel, you were always so beautiful. Not even just your looks, but your kind and reserved nature. You always gave him a delighted smile when he looked your way. You were dedicated to always being there for your father, which would always melt his cold heart. He would always watch you with a careful eye, praying that you would somehow get older or him, younger. He hated himself for admiring you so often, especially since he respected your father so much. But you were right there. 

He sat himself in the old recliner chair near the door, peaking out the window every so often. He would always find himself training his eyes back on you, watching your chest rise and fall slowly. 

It takes everything in him not to curl up next to you. 

-

The second day starts off a bit rough. 

When you wake up in the early morning hours, you take notice of a sleeping Joel in the corner of the room. You spring up, loudly rattling the bed frame. It sends Joel jumping out of his skin, his eyes flying open to look at you.

You are panting like you just ran a mile. 

“Jesus Christ, girl,” He barks, his tone tired but also vicious, “Thought someone had you at gunpoint.”

“You were sleeping!”

“Shit, yeah I was, wasn’t I?” His tone is more relaxed, sort of annoyed. He rubs his eyes, glancing outside. Your horses were still there and it doesn’t seem like you guys have been ransacked. 

You clench your fists, “You’re lucky we didn’t get shot in our sleep or something.”

He rolls his eyes, slowly rising from the chair he took over, “That’s a little dramatic, sweetheart. We are fine.”

After that comment, you did not want to talk to Joel Miller. 

You also start to question if you can trust him. He should’ve woken you up to take charge of the watch, but instead, he ignorantly fell asleep and risked your life. 

When you pack up to leave, he realizes how rattled you are. He wants to apologize, but he’s too stubborn to do so. You were being dramatic. But he shouldn’t have said that. He should’ve kept that comment to himself. He was never really good at holding his tongue, always saying the first thing on his mind. 

-

When the sun sets on the second day, Joel promises you two should be in Salt Lake the next afternoon. The whole day pretty much consisted of you two bickering about state capitals. He swears the capital of Pennsylvania is Philadelphia. 

“It’s not, it’s Harrisburg,” You would say. 

You also talked about times before the Infection. He mentions his daughter, Sarah, telling you about how she used to play soccer and she loved going to the Texas State Fair. It makes your heart happy to hear him light up about her, but it makes you want to cry hearing a father talk about his dead child. You can’t imagine that type of pain, and you hope you never do. He doesn’t even know why he’s suddenly baring his soul to you, but he starts to feel like his walls are falling away and he’s comfortable around you. 

He tells you about how he plays the guitar, which you lock onto quickly. 

“You’ll have to show me how good you are,” You smile, imagining Joel Miller strumming along to some folksy song you request. He can only imagine what type of music you would want to hear from him. 

“When we get home,” He mutters, “I'll give you a performance.”

“I cannot wait.”

The conversation with you was easy. You could get anything out of him, pretty much. You were a lot like your father, but softer. He enjoyed your company a bit more. Your laugh was infectious and you were a lot easier on the eyes, of course. When you two stop for a break, he watches as you look for four-leaf clovers on the forest floor. When you find one, you pick it up and bring it over to his hunched-down frame. 

“My mom used to say they were for love and luck,” You explain, “Think you need it for both.”

He knew you were joking by the way you giggle and return to your spot on the ground. He just shakes his head and sticks the clover in his jacket pocket. 

-

He was dreading being back in Salt Lake. He doesn’t want to relive that day when Ellie was practically ripped from him. It sent him spiraling just thinking about all the outcomes that could’ve transpired that day. 

He contemplates telling you for a few brief seconds. 

He wouldn’t have much to lose, especially now that everything is said and done. But then fear takes over and he wonders, would you judge him for it?

He imagines how you would react. How your nose would probably scrunch up, how your disposition towards him would soon contort into horror. You would probably call him a monster. You would probably never look at him the same way, with that beautiful smile and attentive gaze.

“You okay, Joel?”

You two were positioned on the edge of some woods off a dirt road. Joel didn’t want to attract anyone with fire, so you two decided you would just camp on the ground near the highway you would end up following to get into the city. 

“‘M all good,” He practically whispers, “Just tired. You mind gettin’ first watch?”

You just silently nod, watching him rise from his spot and move over to the sleeping bags you two had set up when you arrived. You watch as he awkwardly wiggles his large frame into a small sack. It makes you giggle a bit. He positions himself with his back to you, his front facing into the woods. He can’t spend his time staring at you like he would like to, he needs to sleep. 

You realize he has a leaf stuck on the back of his head. You couldn’t help yourself, it was going to bother you for as long as you were awake. You stand up and slowly creep up to him. 

You squat down and pluck the leaf out of his thick curls. His head snatches back at you, knitting his brows together in confusion. 

Secretly deep down, you just wanted to find a reason to touch him. 

“Can I help you?”

You give him a shit-eating grin, “Yeah, you just got leaves in your hair. It was going to bother me if I didn’t get it out. You’re very, very welcome.”

He rolls his eyes, “Can I sleep now?”

“Don’t know, I’m already getting bored without you glaring at me.”

You were now on a mission to annoy him, he guesses. 

Without thinking, he responds with a comment that would stick with you all night. 

“Yeah, you like it when I look at you, don’t ya?”

-

The homestretch was only about another 20 miles. You and Joel had made good time, only taking about three days to get to the hospital. After the subtle flirting with Joel the night before, you got a little more ambitious with your advances. 

Before you two took off to get to your destination, you asked Joel if you could change your clothes. You had mud all over your jeans and your shirt was reeking of body odor. The natural deodorants that were handmade in Jackson only did so much. 

“Yeah, make it quick,” He orders, pointing to a more private area of the camp, “There’s some bushes over there.”

“I’m not getting dressed in a bush, Joel. Just look away,” You test, already shrugging off your flannel. He notices your bold move, instantly peeling his eyes away from your direction. This can not be happening to him right now. 

“What the hell,” He murmurs, his hands propped up on his hips, “You’re doin’ this on purpose.”

You feel your cheeks heat up, “Doing what on purpose?”

“Testin’ me. Me and my patience.”

You throw your shirt over your head and grab one of your spare ones from your pack, “Well, if it’s a test, you’re passing with flying colors, Miller.”

He glances back at you without even really thinking, spotting you in your bra with a shirt covering your eyes. It’s almost like when you tell a child not to press a button, and it makes them want to do it even more.

He wanted to keep looking. 

“Fuck,” He says under his breath, trying to push those types of thoughts out of his mind. 

You shimmy off your pants, folding them as soon as you get them off your legs. You needed a shower so bad, you felt so filthy. 

“You think we could stop back at the cabin on the way home? I want to bathe.”

Thinking about you naked and taking a bath made his dick hard. 

“Yes,” He manages to say, “Hurry up, please!”

You grin at his frustration, “Fine, fine. I’m almost done.”

-

You and Joel trot along an abandoned highway, cars littering every lane. It was nothing new to you. You have seen plenty of cities in your lifetime. Each time was a bit different, but for the most part, they were all the same. Riddled with infected and bombed to shit. 

You think back to when Tommy said Joel had been here before. Your mind starts to wonder, and being that you still had a couple of hours before you got to see the actual hospital, you decide to speak up and ask. 

“When was the last time you were here?”

He thinks for a second. He was waiting for these questions. 

“Over a year ago.”

You shake your head, “Was there a reason?”

You had no business prying into Joel’s life, but you felt like after spending days with him, there was some kinship. Maybe even a friendship.

“Ellie’s mom was a Firefly. They had a base camp out here,” He explains, but would he go further? Would he spill all the beans?

It’s technically not his story to tell. But then again, Ellie didn’t even have the truth, so it was a story only he knew. 

You wait before responding, “Did you find her?”

“Who?”

“Ellie’s mom,” You press, glancing around some cars. You are trying to act like you didn’t care, but you could tell from the moment you entered the outskirts of the city, Joel was plagued with the weight of the atmosphere. His shoulders got heavier, his eyebrows further knitted together. He was tense. 

“No, she’s dead. So I brought her home,” He says, half-bending the truth. He’s lying, but not really. Ellie’s mom was dead but that was never the reason they came out here. He just wants to say it, but his chest feels like a weight is pushing down, almost cracking his ribs. He swallowed the guilt. 

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”

You didn’t have much else to say, letting the silence eat away at the prickle of your arm hairs as they stood up. You try to relax, but now that you are in the city, it feels real. You traveled all this way for medication so Jackson would not shun you. It sounded kind of stupid, coming all this way in hopes of a stocked Firefly hospital. 

You also traveled all this way with Joel Miller. You managed to speak to him without tripping over every word and poking fun at him. You watched him sleep at night, looking so peaceful in the woods surrounding him. You try to think about the last time you saw him smile. You saw him differently, now. He came all this way to help you and your dad. He is risking a lot, disregarding his duties back home, just so he can be with you and protect you. 

You ponder if things will be different when you get home. Maybe he would talk to you more when he came to the Tipsy Bison. Maybe he would wave back at you when you saw him around town. 

You secretly hoped being next to him for so long would change your relationship with him. 

Joel starts to ride next to you, studying your face as you stare forward. 

“What are you thinkin’ bout so hard over there?” He poses, watching your face twist when he speaks up. 

You lick your lips, “Thinking about what it’s gonna be like when I get home.”

“What do ya’ mean?”

You halt your horse to look over at him. He does the same. 

“We came all this way and I am scared when we get back, you won’t want to talk to me anymore.”

He shakes his head, a slight chuckle escaping his lips, “Kiddo, your dad’s my patrol partner. ‘Course, I’ll still talk to you. You’re always around.”

The nickname makes you cringe. You don’t want to be a kid to him. 

“Right, of course.”

-

When you get to the edge of the city, Joel starts explaining the game plan. How you will get to the hospital, do your sweep as quick as you can, and don’t meander around. He also explains how the exit plan is to drop everything, no matter what, and return to the horses. You see someone? Run. 

You want to say you know how to handle yourself, but you resist and just nod in understanding. 

To your surprise, you two do not run into any hoards. You turn a corner and spot a couple of infected twitching near an old school, and you two carefully back up and go up another block to avoid them altogether. You two don’t say anything to each other as you spot the hospital in the distance. Joel just points forward, having you trot at his side. 

You pull out your gun when you start to hear some clicking nearby. Joel gestures to you to be quiet and continues to the front of the hospital. You two ride your horses to the ambulance drop-off, parking them there. When you jump down, you start to grab your pack so you can fill it with whatever supplies you find. Joel does the same, throwing his leather backpack over his shoulder. You check the magazine of your gun and take off the safety. 

“Okay, we stay close to each other,” He explains in a hushed tone, “Grab whatever you think we need.”

You wiggle your head in agreement. He raises his rifle as you two enter the side door. The hospital is quiet besides the wind blowing through some shattered windows. You click on your flashlight that is attached to your backpack, making sure it’s pointed forward. The main corridor leads you down to some triage rooms and nurse's stations. Joel gestures to you to check out some triage rooms. You find some bandages and some tongue presses. You grab the entire box of bandages and stuff them in your bag. When you return to the hall, Joel is stuffing some of his finds in his pack. 

“No meds yet,” He grumbles. You two press forward, keeping your steps silent. You find some lab rooms off the main hallway and you two scope out each room carefully, your guns still drawn and at the ready. You find more items; some gloves, masks, and some scissors. You pick them up, stuffing them in your back. 

You hear movement from behind you and quickly spin. It’s just Joel, holding a couple of vials of medication. You rush towards him, using your light to see what the vials read. 

levofloxacin 

amoxicillin

“Jackpot,” You murmur, “Any more?”

He grabs a baggie sitting on a table nearby, “Not that I saw.”

You continue searching, not finding much of anything in the drawers. A lot of the stuff is picked through. 

You point to a central staircase, “Wanna go up?”

“Yeah, right behind you.”

Joel was reeling, spotting some areas where blood was splattered across the walls as he walked through the hospital. It was terrifying to put himself back in this exact spot. It felt like a fever dream. Now he had you with him, another person he cared too much about to admit to anybody, let alone himself. He cared about you in a whole different way than he cared about Ellie. 

You trail up the stairs, finding some old labs and nurse's stations. All were picked through. You couldn’t help but notice the blood all over the floor in some areas. You try to figure out what could have transpired here, but you don’t even try to beg the question to Joel. With the look on his face, you are afraid to say much of anything. 

Something bad happened here and he was a witness to it. 

It made you want to hurry up and spare his feelings. Instead of taking careful and methodical steps, you run room to room searching drawers and counters for anything of value. You find some alcohol swabs, safety pins, and some wrist splints. When you get to the last room in the hallway you’re in, you hit the jackpot. It’s a cabinet with some vials. 

You start to quietly read them off to Joel who’s standing on the threshold of the room. 

“Grab them all,” He says, pulling his pack off his shoulder so you can put some into his, “We can find use for ‘em.”

You also find some sutures and unopened syringes. You wish you could get down on your knees and thank whatever god is up there for blessing you with everything. You don’t believe in that though, so instead you excitingly grab Joel’s arm and shake it. 

“Let’s get this all home,” You smile, pressing your fingers harder into his bicep, “Maybe celebrate with something strong from the bar.”

Then you hear it. 

Click. Click. Click. 

Joel grabs your arm back, shoving you behind him. He slings his pack over his shoulder and you do the same. You never had many issues with killing infected, but you did not know what you were dealing with. It was dark and all too quiet for too long. Joel creeps forward, his gun drawn forward to peek out the door. When you do the same, he tucks you back behind him. 

Lining the hallway is about 3 clickers. Your stomach drops as they slowly make their way to the sounds you two made seconds ago. Joel glances back at you, his face very serious and stern. 

You can read the look on his face and being that you dealt with these fuckers before, you know that you need to be silent. He looks back down the hall, spotting an exit in a staircase that’s slightly blocked by one of the clickers. He waves you along as he slowly tiptoes down the hallway. You get closer and closer to the first clicker and your gun is trained right at them as you keep your distance. You can tell by the clothing that it was a woman at one time, the infection growing out of every crevice of her body. 

She clicks and clicks, but does not attack you. You and Joel continue, not making a sound as you shuffle past the next one. But once you get close to the one closest to the door, something snaps and it’s like they all realize exactly all at once. One squeals and the others follow suit. Joel yells for you to run, but you don’t budge, emptying your gun into the closest one. It crumbles to the ground. With that one down, Joel grips your wrist tightly and flings you towards the door. You two rush out as Joel lights up the hallway with gunfire. 

You now know that you’re attracting every infected in a mile radius so time is of the essence. You practically fall down the stairs trying to get to the bottom. Joel does not like how fast you moving, pressing you to run faster. You two sprint down the hallway as two runners come full speed at you from an opposing hallway. You try to shoot but your gun is empty. You scream for Joel to do something and he puts them down expertly. He’s spot on even with the adrenaline coursing through his veins. You find the door you came in from and quickly make your way to Ranger. He seems sort of spooked so you try to gingerly climb up him, grabbing his reigns from the pole you tied him to. Joel is quick to mount his horse. He pulls his horse back, guiding it to head back the way you guys came. 

You follow suit, hearing stirring from all around you as your hair whips in the wind. You are not worrying about the noise you two are making now, galloping down the once-busy streets of Salt Lake City. 

“Don’t stop til’ I say so!” Joel calls out. You can hardly hear with your heartbeat in your ears and the wind against your ear drum. 

You get to the edge of the city after about 20 minutes of dodging left-behind cars and random barriers. You get to the point where the foliage takes over and the infected taper off. You don’t realize it until you start slowing down and your heart gets back to its normal pace, you’re freezing. 

You yell out for Joel, who’s still going quite fast. He halts completely, letting you catch up with his step. 

“We have to stop, I’m freezing.”

You weren’t wearing all your layers and you knew it would be detrimental if you didn’t stop to wrap up before you two continued your journey. Joel nods, trotting off the main part of the road into some woods. 

When you get off your horse, you can feel Joel’s eyes lock onto your vibrating body. 

“Jesus, girl,” He dismounts, wrapping his reigns around a nearby branch, “The wind do you that much damage?”

You can’t help but laugh as you rifle through your pack to find your extra layers. You can remember packing two thermals, but with the way you’re shaking, you can’t even grip onto the clothes to move them around to search. You don’t even realize Joel has come to your side, you only notice when he nudges your side with his three fingers. You move out of his way so he can look, but you can’t help but feel the warmth his gentle touch gives you on your hip. 

He pulls out a thermal, handing it out to you. 

“Just put it over your other long sleeve,” He instructs, digging for another layer for you. You take his advice and throw it over your head. When your head pops through the neck hole, you spot him smirking at you. 

“If you don’t warm up soon, I may have to share my body heat so we can get back on the road,” Joel jokes, watching you pull your hair out of the back of your long sleeve. You didn’t hate the sound of that, truthfully. 

“Guess I will try my best not to warm up then.”

He shakes his head, grabbing onto your other thermal, “You can’t say stuff like that to me, darling.”

“Why not?”

Joel has slipped up a couple of times already, he wasn’t planning on giving in. But the teasing was fun and light-hearted. He knew in his heart it was not going to turn into anything. 

Right?

“Because I don’t think it’s a very good idea for us to talk like that to one another,” He explains, stepping back as you add the other shirt onto your already warming body, “May lead us somewhere we can’t come back from.”

You swallow, “Maybe I’d like that.”

-

It takes you a day and a half to get back to the cabin. Joel promised that you two could spend a whole day there if need be. You two were physically and mentally exhausted. The horses needed rest too, you could tell Ranger was beat. 

When you arrive on the property, Joel makes sure to scope out a radius before you two settle in. Ever since the sly passes you made at him, he’s been more quiet. You can tell he’s deep in thought. Maybe it wasn’t about you, but he had something on his mind. 

You use the fire stove to warm up some water from the lake to give yourself a quick “bath”. You just used an old rag and some bar soap to scrub your limbs, trying to get off all the caked-on dirt. Joel stayed outside by the fire, cooking up some squirrels he was able to trap. You stood in your undergarments, lathering your skin, watching him from the window as he poked at the fire. 

You felt a bit better once you were clean. The growl in your stomach was dull and kind of painful. You needed to eat, so you got your dirty clothes back on and headed outside to prop yourself up next to Joel. 

When you open the cabin door, his head snaps over to you. 

“Howdy, cowboy,” You gleam, walking down to the stump next to him. You couldn’t help but flirt now. It was funny to watch him squirm, the glint in his eyes not hard to notice. 

“You all clean?”

You nod, giving him a cheeky smile. “Yeah, now you go get yourself all cleaned up.”

He grabs his stick poker, “Don’t got any soap.”

“Use mine.”

Joel stops his motion immediately to train his eyes back on you. “You want me to smell like you?”

“Well, I smell delicious, so why not?”

He scans your body with his eyes, “Cause if we get home and your Dad smells your soap on me, he’ll put it bullet between my eyes.”

You know he’s being dramatic, finding any excuse to opt out of using the soap you just used on your body. 

“So, what you’re saying is,” You clear your throat before continuing, “If my dad wasn’t your friend, you’d lather yourself with my soap?”

He contemplates for a moment, “Yeah, and other things.”

Your heart stops beating for a second. Joel can not help but smirk at your reaction. He was playing with fire, literally and figuratively. The tension between you two was so heavy, that you do not think you could even take a deep breath in. 

He stands up from his spot next to you. “Why don’t ya eat, sweet thing? I have to clean myself up, I guess.”

-

Joel can not do this. 

You were his friend’s daughter. Sure you were grown, beautiful, strong-willed, and everything he could want and more but he could not take advantage of you. The only way he felt this way right now was because tensions were so high back in Salt Lake. You two have spent a lot of time together, the hormones… what the fuck is he thinking?

You sit by the fire, your stomach doing back flips as you think about Joel in the cabin, by himself, practically half naked. 

Why were you doing this to yourself?

Your heart is racing faster than it ever has. No clicker, no stranger, nothing has made you this nervous. Your hand reaches for the door handle, but before you can turn it, Joel rips open the door. 

“What do you think you’re doing?”

You stand there, dumbfounded. “I-I don’t know.”

He’s standing over you, his chest rising faster the more you keep your eyes trained on him. He has a green flannel on, the top couple of buttons undone. You lift your hand to touch the skin peeking through, but he stops your movements before you can make contact. You note the scent of wood burning in the cabin and it’s a lot warmer than you left it. Joel must have started the stove again. 

“We can’t.”

You shake your head, “No, we can’t, can we?”

You two know better. You know better. You know better. 

You are breathing in each other’s spaces. You don’t even want to look him in the eyes. His arm snakes around your midsection, pulling you forward into the cabin. At that moment, you knew that you two didn’t know any better. 

It’s almost like you two silently made the decision. 

“We can’t tell anyone about this, sweet girl,” He whispers, his hands still firmly on your back. You could not resist this temptation anymore. He was right in front of you, wanting you just as badly as you wanted him. 

Your eyes glance up at his dark sultry gaze, “It’s our little secret.”

His hand reaches up, gracing your chin with his touch. When he dips down to meet your height, you finally get bold and extend your hand up and around his neck. Your lips connect and you feel like a million little butterflies explode in your stomach. You had never desired a kiss from anyone as much as you did with Joel. 

He’s eager and impatient, though. He’s not as soft as you imagined for a man who hardly spoke. He just wants to feel you everywhere, all at once. His mouth melts into yours, his tongue exploring every inch of yours. He’s moving you around the room, stumbling over furniture and shoes as he backs you into the large wooden bed frame. 

“So fuckin’ perfect,” He mumbles into your lips as soon as he lifts you up onto the mattress. It catches you by surprise, mainly because you never expected him to manhandle you in this way. He’s hungry for every inch of you. After all these months of secretly pining for him and him not giving you any positive response, you never anticipated something like this happening. Especially at a time like this. 

“Joel,” You whine, pulling him down on top of you as you fall back into the flannel blankets, “I need you everywhere.”

He grins peppering kisses down your neck, “Don’t worry, I will treat you so fuckin’ good. Been wantin’ you for so long.”

It was so filthy and hot. Your dad’s patrol partner, his best friend. Keen to make you feel good? And wanting it for a while? You must be imagining his words because you can’t even comprehend the situation. 

But it’s true. Joel’s secretly been watching you when you’re not looking. When you sling drinks on Friday nights, he watches you from a booth in the corner. Tommy’s caught him a couple of times, smacking him and reminding him that you were off limits. When you came to his house with extra pot pie or soup, he would watch you walk away from his house from his living room window. 

This taboo yearning kept him up at night. But now, he has you alone and he needs a taste. 

He pulls back to look at your face, “Are you sure you want me?”

You can’t help but giggle a bit. 

“Joel, I’ve been wanting you for longer than I would like to admit,” You purse your lips as you bring your hand up to trace his collarbone, “Think about you all the time.”

It was the truth. Your mind was taken up but all his little sly comments. The way he would drop anything to help you or your dad. His beautiful brown eyes didn’t help one bit either.

“My god, girl…Gonna have me cumming in my jeans like a teenager.”

He returns to laying kisses all along your body. It started with wet kisses down your neck, only for it to trail right where your shirt begins, right below your collarbones. You push him back for a moment, taking your shirt off over your head. He watched you carefully, ensuring there was no hesitancy with your actions. He wanted to be absolutely positive that this is what you wanted. 

As soon as you reach for the clasp of your bra, Joel grabs your arms away. 

“Let me,” He mumbles, letting his fingers trace along the seam of the black fabric before using his right hand to undo the back. With him this close to you again, you inhale sharply, catching the scent of your soap. 

“See you took up my offer,” You tease, letting your bra fall down your shoulders, “Did you get clean just for this, Miller?”

He catches a glimpse of you under the bra and his mind goes blank. You notice his change in disposition and decide it’s best to discard every other article of clothing completely. You struggle to get your jeans off, so he helps by practically ripping them off your legs. He can’t help but spot the soak undies attached to your jeans. When you are bare under him, he gawks at you for a moment. 

“A beautiful woman like you,” He shakes his head, biting his lip. He unbuckles his pants before he stands and shoves them down his legs. While he’s making an effort to get as naked as you, you start unbuttoning his flannel. He watches you take your time, thumbing each button slowly. He tilts your head back up, his eyes leering at you for a moment. “And you want someone like me?”

You know he’s probably in his own head, so you feel the need to prove to him, that yes this is what I want. 

You grab onto his neck and pull him back down into a passionate kiss. When you notice him give in, you use all your might to push him sideways and onto his back next to you. You mount his lap immediately, holding him down with your body weight. Your soaked slit trudges over his large hard-on while you dip your head to capture his lips. You feel his hands trail up the sides of your body, leaving goosebumps in his wake. He finds your boobs, palming them with his warm calloused hands. You were extra sensitive so as soon as his fingers find your nipples, you’re moaning into his mouth. 

When your hips jet forward, his tip slides between your pussy lips. The sensation sends him into overdrive, his grip on your waist getting tighter. He’s so fucking big. 

“No foreplay, you just wanna grind your pussy right onto my cock?” His question sends shockwaves through your body and you raise your hips up off his crotch. You kneel over him, anticipating to rotate your pelvis back onto him, but he has other ideas. 

Because Joel has been thinking about what you taste like for too long. He can’t just fuck you. He lays back, all the while, dragging you up to his chest so your pussy is hovering over his pursed lips. 

“Joel, what are you doing?”

You feel his hot breath huff onto your slick center, “I’m gonna devour this beautiful pussy, first. Need to get you warmed up.”

Without any warning, he wraps his arms around your thighs and pushes your center closer to his outstretched tongue. You gasp when he starts to run his tongue up and down your slit. You can’t help but settle around his face, your knees feeling like they may already give out. 

You’ve never sat on someone’s face and watched them eat you out like a starved man. But Joel is precise with his motions, his mouth wrapping around your clit. When he starts to suck, the suction noise makes you whimper and shake. You have only ever cum by your own hand, so when the familiar heat rises in your stomach, you know instantly this is going to be the best sex you’ve ever had in your life. 

Joel is a very easy man to please. He thoroughly enjoys watching women crumble above him, their orgasms surging through their bodies while his tongue is pressed into them. But with you, he wants to drudge it out of you over and over again. You’re so magnetic on top of him, your head thrown back in pleasure. Your hands rest on your shoulders as you grind down on him, your peak teetering the edge. He shimmies his hand in between your thighs and begins to use his fingers in you, just to drive you crazier. He’s fucking up into you with his pointer and middle fingers, managing to latch onto your clit while he does. 

When you tumble into bliss, Joel moans into you, egging on your spasms. You lurch forward, dragging your center off his drenched lips. Your legs are limp as you try to crawl up the bed. Joel rolls over, creeping up the bed with you. You lay on your back, propping yourself up onto some of the pillows. 

“Do you need a break?” He asks, his hands feeling up your bare, still kind of shaking, thighs. You shake your head “yes” and breathe out loudly. Your body is covered in a light sheen, the sweat pooling around your hairline. Joel lets you take a moment, making sure you are completely ready for him. 

When you finally meet his eyes, your stomach fills with butterflies. He’s admiring you from his position, his eyes not finding yours until he’s done checking out your bare chest. You giggle, tugging on his wrists. He takes up your advances, positioning himself above you. He’s caging you in with his tanned strong arms, only allowing you to really move your upper body. You tangle your hands through his messy dark peppered curls, which makes him sigh. He secretly loved it when women felt through his hair. 

“Fuck me,” He groans as he reaches down between you, grabbing ahold of his hard member. You watch as he drags it through your heat, gathering all your wetness before teasing your entrance. 

“Joel, please.”

He smirks, pushing in just his tip, “Please what, baby girl? You want me to give you all of it?”

You are already overstimulated after your last orgasm and you are a bit nervous to imagine what all of it is. You nod, though, because the stretch is already so delicious. 

“Please, Joel, please. I need it,” You whine, knowing how desperate you sound. It’s music to Joel’s ears. 

“Shh, baby,” He eases in further, “I told you I’m gonna treat you real good. Gonna treat this pussy, so fuckin’ good.”

When he’s fully sheathed in you, your nails are digging into his shoulders. When he eases back to pull out some to ensure you can take it, you’re a moaning mess. It only eggs him on, feeling how slick you are and how tight you are around him. 

“That’s right baby, take all of me,” He says as he lifts himself off you. You have nothing to grip onto now, except the sheets that line the queen-sized bed. Joel wants to watch himself slip out of you and go back into you with ease. You love the friction, but you know you need more. 

You don’t know how, but it’s like he reads your mind. He starts to increase his pace, holding onto the back of your thighs as he drills into you. The curvature of his dick hits exactly where no man could ever reach. 

“Oh my god, fuck Joel! Fuck!”

Your words only encourage him to go harder and faster.

“Keep screamin’ my name, baby doll.”

The sweat is dripping down his face with how much effort he’s putting into fucking you. You’re floored at how quickly your orgasm builds again, the sounds of him plowing into you alone sends you into overdrive. 

As soon as you start to vibrate under him, Joel takes that as a great time to start thumbing at your clit. You feel every one of your nerve endings burning with such rapture, that you can’t even say anything. You’re just howling, no coherent words even coming out. Your vision goes white.

The scene is something out of the old pornos Joel used to watch. You’re writhing under him, the orgasm practically sending you cross-eyed. You reach up to anchor yourself down and the only thing you can find to grab is Joel’s forearm. 

“Yes, Joel!”

His hips continue to snap into yours as you squeeze his cock with your gyrating hips. He’s fucking you through it, watching your face contort. Your grip on his arm hurts, but he does not care. It’s unbelievably hot to watch the girl he has adored from afar cumming around him. Over and over. 

The scene is enough to have him chasing down his own high. The feeling of your cunt gripping onto him so tight, while his name is chanted from your lips, the cum practically shoots out of him before he has time to grab his shaft and pull out. He does not empty himself in you though, quickly prying himself out of your weeping hole and spilling out the rest onto your stomach. 

“Shit.”

You don’t even realize what happened, not caring about really anything except for how wonderful and high you feel. Joel tumbles onto his side, half of his body resting on yours. His mouth is close to your ear so he whispers it to you, his voice shaky. 

“I came inside you.”

You lick your lips, trying to regain some saliva in your mouth, “I do not care, Joel.”

He does not prefer that answer, but he accepts it for the time being. You could not feel your face at the moment, you did not have time to worry yourself over Joel cumming inside you. It was not the first time someone did that. 

Joel rolls off the bed, his legs feeling wobbly with his first steps. He’s still half hard and stumbling over to the bowl of water he just used to clean off himself. He grabs a clean rag and soaks it in the soapy water. The least he could do was clean up his mess. 

You watch him trudge over to you, the cum still pooled on your stomach and a bit in your belly button. 

Joel places the warm towel on your lower tummy, wiping up his mess. 

“Thanks,” You manage to say, your post-orgasm haze wearing off a bit. Now you’re just cold and exhausted. You shiver as soon as he removes the towel from your buzzing body. He notes it immediately and grabs the blanket that had been kicked to the floor. He lays it over you, making sure your full nude body is covered by the chilly air. 

“I need to go take a leak, I’ll be right back.”

You try to stay awake. But as soon as he gets some clothes on and heads outside to relieve himself, you’re lulled to sleep by the sounds of the rustling woods that surround the cabin. 

-

When you slowly open your eyes, you instantly notice how dry your mouth is. The itchy fabric of the blanket is tickling your bare limbs as you shift. Joel’s not beside you. 

You sit up, glancing around the cabin. His stuff is still here, but he is not. You keep the scratchy blanket wrapped around you as you plant your bare feet on the wooden floor. As soon as you take your first step forward towards the front door, it slowly swings open. 

Joel stands there, fully clothed, cheeks reddened from the cold outdoors. 

“Mornin’,” He says with a sleepy voice, “Got up early to get the horses fed and saddled up.”

All you remember is him going to pee outside last night, right before you fell asleep. “Did you ever come to bed last night?”

“Yeah, only got a couple of hours of sleep. You took up most of the bed.”

You clear your throat, becoming hyper-aware suddenly that you are very naked under the blanket. Joel tries not to notice your natural sensuality when you wake up. Sleepy eyes, swollen lips, slightly tangled hair. Even if last night never happened, he would be completely enamored by you. 

“Oh, okay,” You mutter, trying to act natural about the fact that you slept with Joel fucking Miller last night. “We all set then?”

He shuts the front door, cutting off any more cold from slipping in. You watch him slowly start to invade your space. He feels pulled towards you, the gravity overcoming every sense he has. He needs to be close to you, touching you, feeling you. 

“Yeah, we are all set.”

Chills run down your spine when his cold hand reaches out and grazes your cheek. You flick your eyelashes towards him, not knowing what to say next. He dips down to your height, kissing your lips carefully. He is nervous you will back away from him, but you don’t. You lean forward into him, the weight of your entire body pressing into him. 

He is the first to pull away, but you swear you could be latched onto him forever. His big brown eyes are lasered in on your eager lips, but in the back of his mind, he knows that you two need to get back home soon. He promised Tommy four days, nothing more. And you needed to get home to your Dad. Fuck. Your Dad. His fuckin’ friend. 

“We have to get home,” Is all he says. 

And then he’s gone. It’s like he blipped out of the room. You blink and the door slams and you are alone again. 

-

You stumble out of the cabin with your backpack on, your eyes adjusting to the sunshine between the falling away leaves. Winter creeps in so quickly in Wyoming, you think to yourself. 

Joel is already posted up on his horse, waiting for you to hurry along and join him. You pet Ranger for a moment before you hop up onto his back. He can’t help but realize how perfect you seemed in the sunlight. Your face hasn’t aged with time like his. It makes sense because you’re so much younger than him. You’ve lived a very full and traumatic life, sure, but you still had a lot more energy to live. He couldn’t picture that you’d want to spend the rest of it with an older guy with maybe 20 more years left in him if you’re lucky. 

The thoughts start to eat away at him as you two make your way through the forest. 

You assume he’s just tired from not getting a lot of sleep, so you just keep your lips sealed until you make it to the main trail back home. 

“So, when we get home,” You break the quietness with your open-ended statement. Joel doesn’t know what you’re insinuating, so he just keeps his head forward. “What happens, then?”

He pulls back his horse's reins to position himself looking directly at you. 

“What do you mean?”

You look at him suspiciously, “Do we tell people?”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Joel thinks. 

“Tell them what?”

He has to be messing, right? You think. 

But no, he’s deadly serious. 

“About us,” You remark as Ranger trots a bit closer to Joel. He shakes his head and your heart sinks. He can’t do this, not after you two slept together. 

“There is no us,” He grumbles, unable to look you in the eyes anymore, “We can’t do that. You’re too young.”

If you weren’t on a horse, you would’ve already smacked him. “What the hell, Joel? What if you get in my pants and make me feel special and now we are nothing? Because I’m a little bit younger than you?”

“No, it’s not like that-”

“Well, it seems like it is like that,” You bite the inside of your cheeks, holding back every instinct to burst into tears, “Fuckin’ asshole. I should’ve known better.”

-

When the walls of Jackson come into your line of sight, you could cry with excitement. Your hands were shaking, not only from the cold but the nerves. You had been silent the entire ride back. Your only desire was to get home to your Dad and ignore Joel Miller for the rest of your life. 

You can only hope and pray that your father is on the mend. To keep on track and not let panic take over, you’ve tried to put your mind on other things this whole trip. Most of those things you wish you’d forgotten, already. 

The doors open when you two get close. When the crack is big enough to see through, you spot some familiar faces waiting for you. Tommy, Maria, and even your father. He’s standing up straight, wrapped in layers of jackets and blankets. You tap Ranger with your foot, getting him to speed up. When you reach about 30 feet away, you practically fall off him to get your arms around your father. 

A sense of relief floods your body. A tidal wave of happiness and solace. He’s okay. He’s alive. 

When his scent reaches your nose, it triggers your tear ducts. After years of never having to really worry about him, knowing he can handle himself, you have felt this constant state of uneasiness the last week. 

“My baby is back,” He grumbles into your hair, his arms locking around you, “I knew I could trust that Joel.”

You don’t have time to feel guilt over your actions, you’re just so happy he’s upright. You also don’t want to hear his God-forsaken name from your own Dad. When you pull back to inspect his face, you note the tiredness in his eyes. He looks better, but not his normal. You grab each end of the blanket that’s slowly slipping off his shoulders and bundle him tighter. 

“Let’s get you back in the warm, how ‘bout it?”

You glance back at Joel who just nods, knowingly. You remember that you still have your backpack on, so before you stroll away, you shimmy out of it. Tommy watches you carefully as you hand it off to Joel. 

“Get those meds to the infirmary,” You whisper to no one in particular. Joel studies your face, waiting for you to say something else. You do not. As he grabs your pack, you feel like Maria and Tommy are gawking at you two. Like they know something was left unsaid. 

You two move differently around each other. When you shift one direction, Joel follows suit. 

Joel feels like every eye in Jackson is on him. Tommy’s being the most piercing, watching him like a hawk as he grabs his horse and guides him towards the stables. While you stroll away with Maria and your father, Joel and Tommy bring the horses and supplies to the stables. 

As you walk, you listen to Maria explain your father’s steady recovery. She mentions how Ellie has been keeping a careful eye on him. After she heard you and Joel were going to be gone together, she asked Maria if she could help him somehow. Once your dad got well enough to walk, she got him settled in your house. She’d go over there for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, just to help. It makes your heart swell when you hear your dad say how kind and generous she was, just like you. 

-

Joel starts to unpack your bags from your horse first when he gets the horses parked. 

“Somethin’ happen out there?” Tommy presses, noticing how odd you and Joel moved in front of him, “With her?”

“No, nothin’,” He lies, placing your bags on a table near Ranger. When he lifted the first duffle bag, he got a whiff of you and it made his stomach sink. “We just had a rough spot in the hospital. Clickers and shit. Nothin’ too crazy-”

“Joel, I know when you’re lyin’ to me,” His eyes are shooting daggers now. Joel was too old to be pestered by his little brother. He groans in annoyance but Tommy does not give up, “What did you do?”

“I didn’t do nothin’, Tommy.”

“Bullshit,” He grumbles, grabbing one of your bags, “Want me to ask her?”

“You won’t get anythin’ out of her. She’s mad at me, okay? She is pissed I won’t…”

He feels humiliated, his stomach twisting into knots. He would never intentionally hurt you. He just put his foot in his mouth when he realized how much your actions would change everything for him. He could not just be someone you slept with. He could not just leave it. 

“You won’t what, Joel?”

He bites his lip, not wanting to say it out loud. 

“I won’t let her ruin her life for me.”

Tommy’s eyebrows furrow, not completely understanding what he’s droning on about. 

“What?”

“Jesus Christ, Tommy!” Joel wasn’t anticipating a shake-down when he got home. You two really didn’t help with those looks splattered across your faces when you rolled into Jackson.

“You slept with her, didn’t you?”

Joel shakes his head, peeling his eyes away from Tommy. Joel knew nothing could get past him, so he is practically surrendering. Tommy knew then. 

“You dumbass,” He whispers, getting closer to Joel, “You slept with her when her daddy is your patrol partner? After I told you to stay away?”

Joel clenches his teeth, “I don’t need this right now. I’m gettin’ these meds to the infirmary and then I’m takin’ her stuff to her.”

“Joel-”

“Just fuckin’ drop it, Tommy. I ain’t doin’ this.”

-

Your Dad has a nice setup, thanks to Ellie. She has transformed the downstairs guest room into a wonderful stay, with tons of pillows and bedside service. When you get inside the house, Ellie is there. She stands in the corner of the living room, timidly, as you guide your dad back to his warm bed. Maria and her wait for you to handle getting him back to his bedroom. Even though his recovery has been a steady incline, he’s very weak and exhausted all the time. It’s his body’s reaction to fighting a rough illness, but he made sure to reassure you that Sidney told him it’ll be a couple of weeks before he’s 100% back to normal. 

You get him back in bed, his eyes already drooping to find slumber again. You manage to get his shoes off and help him under his covers. Once his head hits the pillow, you stand by the bed for a minute to ensure he’s actually sleeping. You slip out of the room, and the sudden rush of comfort of being home takes over your senses. To hear the crackling of the fireplace, and the smell of your homemade candles. While you enjoyed every moment spent with Joel, there’s nothing like home. 

For a second there, you thought you had that same feeling being next to him in bed. But maybe you were wrong. 

You walk out to where Maria and Ellie stand. They are mumbling to each other while you kick off your boots by the door. 

“Hey, Ellie,” You catch her attention, her freckled face down turning with concern. You smile, trying to ease her, “Thank you for all you’ve done here. I am glad he had someone like you looking after him.”

She nods, her lips twitching, “It’s no problem at all. I know how much you two mean to Joel and I just wanted to do what I could.”

Hearing his name sinks your heart, “We owe ya one.”

Because you did. No matter what would eventually transpire between you and Joel, you owe him your father’s life. His idea saved him. With how sick he was, Joel’s quick plan was enough to bring him home. Then for Ellie to spend her days looking after him while you two were gone? You were forever indebted to them. Sadly. 

“Well, we should leave you to get settled. Let us know if you need anything at all,” Maria gestures to Ellie towards the front door. Their footsteps trail around you, heading to your front door. Before Ellie can reach for the handle, there’s a knock. You nod your head, letting her know it’s okay to open it. 

Joel stands there, your bags in his hands. 

You honestly just left your belongings for him to deal with. Joel looks down at Ellie, his eyes lighting up at the sight of her. She’s not as impressed, initially. 

“Hey kiddo,” Joel acknowledges, before spotting Maria, “Mrs. Miller.”

“We were just heading out,” Maria says, pushing the door wider so she and Ellie can slip by his large frame, “Give the girl her things and let her settle back into her life, huh?”

Joel was already annoyed at the narrowed eyes and judgemental jabs. It’s like everyone somehow knew he fucked up. 

You two watch Maria and Ellie leave, their breaths forming clouds in the cold sharp air. Jackson’s weather changed overnight, you think, remembering how it was more tolerable before you left. 

“Can I come in?” Joel ponders, still holding your backpack and duffle. 

It was cold and while you wanted to slam the door on him, you know you can’t. You move away from the threshold, gesturing for him to come in. His footfalls are heavy and drawn out. You shut the door, waving him towards the living room so your voices don’t carry down the hallway to your father’s newly set up bedroom. 

He places your bags on the couch before he stretches his shoulders in discomfort. Your stuff was not that heavy, but Joel could not help but try to draw your attention. He glances around your living room, taking in some of the artwork and photos that line the walls. Some are old photos of you and your father, in which you don’t really resemble him at all. 

“Back to how things were, huh?” You remark, bitterly. You wanted to attack him with every mean thing plaguing your mind, but you don’t. You were tired from all the travels but you were also tired of the idea of fighting for someone who does not care to fight for you back. You had done that for years with pointless boys. 

The whole walk to your house, Joel’s thoughts were moving a million miles a minute. He did not want you to live your life resenting him. He cared for you deeply, but he did not want you to miss out on all the wonders of life. Joel could not give you kids. He could not give you 40 more years of happiness. He would be an elderly man before you could even reach menopause. He does not want you to regret things when you’re old and gray. 

“I don’t want that. You know damn well I don’t want that.”

You could scream. But you stay even, not giving in to the temptation to just rip him a new one. 

“I don’t know what you want, Joel. One minute you’re kissin’ me and begging to be with me, the next you’re telling me you can’t be with me because I’m too young.”

“Baby-”

“No! Don’t you dare? You had no intention of making this a thing, yet you played into it and got exactly what you wanted. I’m just another notch for you, ain’t I?”

Your hands are clenched, waiting for his delayed response. You are embarrassed and humiliated that you were delusional enough to let Joel toy with every one of your emotions. 

“You know that ain’t true, girl. I just don’t want you to live your life regretting that I was a part of it, okay? You want to spend your days with an old man who can’t give you everything you want? ’m not good for you.”

He can’t let you make this mistake. 

But you’re not easing up. 

“What do you think I want? Kids? A simple life? A picket fence? Joel those are things I wanted when I was living in a world that didn’t have a brain-eating infection that’d turn people into zombies,” You’re huffing and puffing, trying to understand why he thinks he can tell you what you need and want. 

“I spent years of my life wishing I could get those things, but I gave up a long ass time ago. I don’t want those things nearly as much as I want you. I fuckin’ want you, okay?”

You realize you’re not being quiet and your Dad could probably hear every word falling from your lips. He can hear you desperately plead with Joel Miller to be with you. 

Joel is shocked you’re laying all this out. He can’t believe his ears when you say you want him. A man like him being wanted is quite unbelievable, especially by a woman like you. 

You could hear a pin drop with how silent your house is. You fold your arms, trying not to give into the nausea you feel from spilling your soul to him. 

“I just…” He fidgets with his hands for a minute before those puppy eyes glance up at you, “I don’t want to ruin your life.”

You step closer to him, your face inches away from him. You train your eyes on his mouth, unsure how to respond to such blasphemy. 

“I have spent so many days thinking about what it’d be like to live in a world where the Joel Miller would even glance in my direction. I imagined what it’d be like to kiss him,” You’re whispering now, making sure this revelation is for his ears only, “I imagined what it’d be like to have a man who’d treat me well and look… Exactly like you. I have dreamed of you.”

Joel would have never guessed such a statement fall from your lips. 

You breathe out, relieved it’s finally off your chest.

“I just don’t want to leave ya worse than I found ya,” His softness instantly makes you crumble into his arms. He holds you tight, before pulling away to search your face. You teeter forward on your toes, pressing a firm but attentive kiss to his lips. 

When you draw back, “I’m not givin’ you up, Joel.”

The tension is shattered when you hear your Dad yell your name from down the hallway. You snap out of your trance of staring at Joel’s beautiful lips and dart toward the voice. 

“Yeah?”

You open the door and see him, his eyes wide open and focused on the door. 

“Who you talking to out there? Is that Joel?”

Suddenly you’re hyper-aware of every word you just said, scared half to death that your Dad would get out of bed and beat some sense into you. Joel follows you down the dimly lit hallway, but you don’t even hear him, too rattled by your father’s question. 

“Yes, it’s me,” Joel speaks up, coming forward to meet your Dad’s confused expression, “How you feelin’, man?”

“I’m feelin’ like I’m hearing some odd things from down the hall. You two fighting?” His voice is breaking a bit. 

The silence after he asks the question is deafening. You glance over to Joel whose mouth is slightly ajar, unable to move with an answer. You bite the inside of your cheek, wishing you could disappear into the wall nearby. 

Joel cannot lie to his friend. He certainly would never do it with you right beside him. 

“Yeah, you uh, heard us?” He barely manages. 

“Yeah, I sure as hell heard my daughter beggin’ you to take her on, is that true?”

“Dad-“

“My daughter wants to date a man that’s 10 years younger than her own father? Kind of twisted.” He snaps, shoving the blankets off his legs. “But, I am gonna be honest… I expected this.”

You can hardly breathe with the tension in the air. 

“Sorry?”

Joel’s tone is dry, and he’s unable to fully form a coherent thought. 

Your dad coughs before he starts, “Well, I could tell by the way you looked at her that you had a thing for her, Miller. Didn’t think you’d be dumb enough to entertain it.”

“Dad, he’s not dum-“

“And I thought you’d get over this little schoolgirl crush, but I was mistaken, I guess.”

You were used to your Dad’s sarcasm and upfront jabs. You spent a lifetime throwing them back at him, but this time you had nothing to say. You watch as he settles back from obnoxiously tearing off his blankets. 

You fiddle with your fingers, trying not to show your internal anxiety-riddled monologue. He thought you’d get over your crush. He always noticed how Joel looked at you. How did he look at you? How did you never notice?

Joel is spiraling, reverting to his original conclusions. He knew this was a horrible idea. He should have never stepped over the line. He’s a horrible man. You don’t deserve someone as awful as him. 

He smacks his lips, making you and Joel come back down to Earth and out of your heads. 

“Whatever is happenin’ between you two, I probably will never fully understand it. But you are adults, you do whatever makes you happy,” He says with both hands up in surrender, “I am too old to bother with my daughter’s love life. She’s a big girl, I trust her. But Miller, if you hurt her-“

“I’m a dead man.”

Your father laughs which in turn makes you smile crookedly. 

“Just one thing,” He points to you, “I don't want to hear or see anythin’-”

You nod, cutting him off immediately, “Deal.”

Joel catches your eye when he smiles in your peripheral vision. You look over at him, a grin plastered to your face. 

You can’t believe you’re actually going to do this. 

And Joel can’t believe your father somewhat agreed to let it happen. He was sure he would have a gun in his face before he could even mutter a word. But instead, your Dad is receptive to him being with you, which is all you can ask for. 

“Well, get along now, I wanna get back to sleep. You two were keepin’ me up,” Your dad grumbles, readjusting his frail frame to get comfortable in bed. You just nod, pointing at the door for Joel to exit. You follow suit, closing the door behind you tightly, making sure it clicks. Joel stands in the darkness of the hallway, waiting. He is in disbelief. 

You just take one of his hands and bring it to your lips, softly pressing a kiss into his knuckles. 

“Let’s go get cleaned up and take a nap,” You murmur, walking him to the end of the hallway to the bottom of the stairs. He accepts the offer, trailing behind you like a lost puppy. 

You were not sure where this was all going to end up. Neither of you did. But you could not wait to carve the way with him, bringing every last one of your daydreams to life.

THE END

or is it? I have started writing snippets to go along with this story- if you want more, here's the link:

No One Fucks With My Baby

[infectedbypedropascal]

Honey wake up — a new Pedro pic just dropped

[alltheirdamn]

DECLINED | Mechanic!Joel x f!reader

Summary: You're on a cross-country road trip when your tires blow, and you're forced to get them fixed at a small town mechanic shop. When your card declines, you only have one other option to get your car back. Rating: 18+ Explicit Word Count: 3k Warnings: Pre-outbreak AU, mechanic!joel, sex for favors, oral sex (f + m receiving), blowjob, deepthroating, cum eating, fingering, squirting, semi-public sex, unprotected piv sex, size kink, creampie, dirty talk, pet names, joel being a disgustingly nice gentleman, porn with absolutely no plot A/N: I saw this gif float across my pinterest and had a terribly fun idea... so here it is. Enjoy a lil fun ;)

PART 2 | Masterlist | Ko-fi

“S’all fixed up now,” Joel said, walking into the waiting room.

You had been waiting a few hours to have your alignment fixed and tires replaced, and now you could finally breathe a sigh of relief. You were on your way through the small town headed east towards Tallahassee when both of your back tires blew out on the highway. You were lucky not to cause a crash and thankfully found a local mechanic shop only half a mile off the road. 

“Thank you so much,” you exhaled as you stood up and stretched your legs.

Joel rounded the counter to the register, typing up the work order to charge you out. Wallet in hand, you waited for the cost, praying it wouldn’t make a dent in your bank account. You only budgeted so much for the road trip, and this definitely wasn’t in the budget.

“Alright, ma’am, lookin’ like it’s gonna be around $500 for everything. Shaved some off just for the hassle you been through,” Joel smiled.

Shit.

“Uh, okay. Great.”

You reluctantly handed over your card, praying it would be enough. Joel swiped it on his machine followed by a loud beep that clearly meant DECLINED. You let out a shaky breath, fishing through your wallet for another card.

“Shit, try this one,” you said.

Joel nodded, his brows furrowing a bit when it also beeped in the same tone. He slid your card across the table, cocking a brow as if to ask, ‘Got another one?’

“Fuck,” you laughed nervously. “Okay, how ‘bout this one?”

Another card. Another decline. How the fuck were you going to get out of town now?

“Sorry, ma’am,” Joel sighed. “No payment means no car ‘m afraid.”

You ran your hand through your hair in frustration, trying to come up with something. Glancing up at him, you took in his broad frame covered by a simple black t-shirt that seemed to hug the planes of his chest perfectly. You hadn’t even noticed the patchy beard or kind grin that he donned so well earlier. Maybe…

“Look, I gotta get out of here tonight,” you pleaded. “Is there anything I can do to just get my car?”

Joel crossed his arms over his chest, his biceps looking much bigger in that position. With a frown turning down his lips, he shook his head.

“Afraid not, ma’am.”

“Anything? Please, I'm begging you.”

He considered you a moment, his eyes raking over your figure. You felt your cheeks warm at that look, knowing what he might be insinuating. If that’s what it took to get your car and get the fuck out of this town, then why not?

“Anything?” He repeated.

“Yeah, I guess so. I’m pretty fucking desperate right now.”

Joel came around the corner of the counter, crowding you until your neck craned up to meet his eyes. Your heart thrummed in your ears, warmth blossoming in your stomach the longer he stared at you. 

“Desperate lil’ thing, huh?” He teased.

Backing away from you, Joel walked to the shop entrance and slowly turned the lock. He looked back at you as he flipped the sign to CLOSED as if testing your judgment. You gave him a meek nod, never letting your eyes off him as he stalked toward you again. His finger ran up your forearm, catching on the sleeve of your top and tugging it lightly.

“Follow me, darlin’.”

That sentiment, followed by the twang of his accent, was enough to make your knees buckle, and you followed him like a dog in heat. Joel led you back into the heart of the shop, scraps of tools and car parts littering the makeshift garage. And right in the center of it all was your car. Leaning against the hood, he patted the metal, beckoning you over. You dropped your purse on the workbench and walked toward him on shaky legs. Joel spread his legs a bit wider as you approached, his fingers wrapping around your belt loops to pull you in close.

You were a breath apart now, just the barrier of clothes separating you. Joel’s hands snaked around your waist and firmly palmed your ass through your jeans. You let out a small yelp as his fingers dug into the supple flesh, kneading and massaging until your eyes drifted shut at the feeling.

“You pay off all your debts this way?” His voice dropped an octave, and you felt the bulge in his jeans prodding against your stomach as you leaned closer.

“Fuck off,” you scoffed. “Wasn’t planning on my car taking a shit out here and definitely wasn’t budgeting for it either.”

“Hmm,” he mused. “Ain’t got a boyfriend to give you some cash to help?”

“If I did, I wouldn’t be out here tryna fuck you for my car,” you quipped.

A grin split across his face at your defensiveness, as if he enjoyed you being a brat. You weren’t trying to be— honest to god—but you desperately needed to leave this town, preferably with your car. 

“Y’sure are a bratty little thing,” he said, tugging you closer.

“Why don’t you stop talking so much and fuck me so I can get the hell up out of this small fucking town?” You grumbled.

Joel raised one of his hands to grip your chin, steadying your gaze on his. Sliding his thumb over your lips, he coaxed your mouth open and urged you to suck on his finger. Without breaking eye contact, you swirled your tongue over the skin of his thumb before wrapping your lips around it.

“Christ, darlin’,” he exhaled. “Might just let you suck my cock and send you on your way.”

You released it with a pop, a trail of saliva dripping from your bottom lip. Reaching down, you massaged the bulge in his pants, letting out a soft gasp. He was massive—bigger than expected. He let out a small chuckle as if reading your mind, bucking his hips against your touch.

“You’d give me my car for a little blowjob?” You questioned, squeezing his cock tighter.

“S’nothing little about me, darlin’.”

“Aren’t you just full of yourself,” you rolled your eyes.

Your fingers danced over the zipper of his jeans, tugging it down as he helped pull his cock free. You peeked down to catch a glimpse of it, your eyes growing wide. His cock was girthy and thick and definitely had no shortage of length, either. Precum leaked from the tip, and you wet your lips at the idea of trying to fit it all in your mouth.

“Y’gonna suck it or what? Car ain’t gonna pay for itself.”

“You gonna give me my car after?” You tossed back.

“Maybe,” he grinned. “Those tires might cost you extra.”

“We’ll see about that,” you smirked.

Sinking to your knees, you pulled down his jeans and underwear until he adjusted himself at the tip of your lips. You wrapped your hand around the base of his cock, squeezing softly as you guided it into your mouth. Stretching your lips wider, you swirled your tongue around the tip, basking in Joel's groan as you did so.

“S’fucking perfect, darlin’. That mouth feels fucking amazing.”

 You took him deeper, moving your mouth in a rhythmic motion until you felt his hand come down to grip your hair. He held you steady as he snapped his hips back and forth, pushing his cock further down your throat. Sputtering around him, you dug your nails into his thighs as leverage while he continued fucking your throat.

“That’s it, darlin’,” he rasped. “C’mon now, take this fuckin’ cock down your throat.”

Opening your throat wider, you swallowed every thrust as tears streamed down your cheeks. Joel was relentless with his thrusts, your nose brushing against the curls at the base every time you took him deeper. You could sense he was close to the edge, so you dragged your tongue against the base of his cock with each stroke, spurring him on further. It elicited a primal growl deep within his chest, and within seconds you could feel the warmth of his cum sliding down your throat. His cock twitched inside your mouth as he came down from his high, and you hummed as you swallowed every last drop.

Using the grip on your hair to pull you off, you sat back on your heels, coughing and heaving to try and catch your breath. Joel looked down on you with heavy lidded eyes and a smug grin as if to taunt you. Cupping your cheek, he slid his thumb against your skin and brushed away the rolling tears.

“Open,” he ordered. “Show me.”

You quirked a playful smile, leaning your head back as you stuck your tongue out to prove you swallowed it all. Slapping your face softly, Joel let out a soft chuckle.

“Atta girl.”

You brushed the remainder of your tears away, wiping the makeup from your eyes, and you stood on wobbly legs. Smoothing down your shirt and jeans, you crossed your arms over your chest and cocked a brow.

“I think I earned my car back,” you insisted, your voice hoarse from how hard he fucked you.

“Hmmm, y’think so?” Joel questioned. “I think I deserve a taste of that pussy.”

You shoved at him playfully, rolling your eyes. 

“In your dreams, cowboy,” you laughed. 

With his pants still hanging down, Joel spun you until your ass was pressed against the hood of your car. Working at the button and zipper of your jeans, he shoved them down and pulled your legs free until your bare ass was pinned to the cool metal. Joel gave you a lopsided grin and shoved you further onto the hood.

“I wouldn’t be a gentleman if I didn’t return the favor, darlin’.”

“You don’t need to do that,” you said, your voice shaky.

“Oh, but I want to,” he argued. “Gotta see how sweet you taste.”

Sliding down, Joel situated himself between your thighs, tugging your calves up to rest on his broad shoulders. He gave you a teasing kiss on your inner thighs before delving in, his tongue flicking at your sensitive bud. You careened back against the hood, your back arching as his mouth suctioned around your clit. Crying out, you carded your hand through the brown curls of his hair, anchoring his face against your wet cunt as it pulsed against his mouth. Joel plunged his tongue inside you, forcing another whine from your lips.

“Fuck!” You cried. “Right there! Oh my god, yes!”

He hummed in satisfaction, bringing his fingers into the mix as he opened you up, curling them against that sweet spot inside you. Keeping his mouth on your clit he worked in tandem with his fingers until that coil inside you wound tighter and tighter. With one more curl of his fingers, your orgasm surged through your body, forcing a gush of liquid to stream out of your wet cunt. Joel sat back in awe, staring at your glistening folds as your body trembled from the release, your juices covering his beard and mustache. 

“Fuck babydoll,” he grinned. “You a squirter, too?”

You laughed awkwardly and watched as he removed his two fingers and brought them to his lips. Sucking them into his mouth, Joel groaned as he tasted the remnants of your orgasm. You knew you could squirt—it was your own dirty little secret—but something about seeing him covered in your juices made you want more. Tugging him softly with your calves on his shoulders, you urged him back to your soaked entrance, silently begging for another round. 

“Gonna cover me in your juices again, darlin’?” Joel smirked. 

“Mhmm,” you whined. 

“Drench me babydoll, let’s see it.”

Joel’s mouth was on you again, lapping up the juices leaking out of you until you were crying out for him. He didn’t let up as he sucked your aching clit between his teeth, his tongue working at the bud in earnest. He pushed his fingers back into you, your cunt pulsing violently each time he curled them. Slipping a third finger in, he stretched you wider and moaned against your clit as your body tensed with another orgasm. Another rush of liquid made it past his fingers, soaking his mouth and chin. You could feel it trickle down the seam of your cunt, drenching the hood of your car as you thrashed against it.

“Christ, Joel,” you mumbled, your head lolling to the side. 

He rose to his feet, wiping a hand over the hair covering his chin as he smiled at you. You sat up slightly, positioning yourself on your forearms as you watched him slide his jeans further down his legs. You were already in this deep; you might as well keep going. Spreading your legs a bit wider, you raised a finger to beckon him closer. 

“C’mon cowboy,” you teased. 

“Y’really need that car, huh?” He smiled, lining his cock up to your entrance. 

“I really do,” you whimpered, nodding your head vigorously. 

Joel eased himself inside you, inch by fucking inch, until he was fully seated at the base of his cock. You both groaned in unison, his cock sliding in and out of you easily from all the juice leaking from you. Crossing your ankles behind his back, you pushed him deeper, mewling at the sensation of the tip of his cock brushing against your cervix. You could feel that stinging stretch of your cunt as he picked up his thrusts, your ass sliding up the car each time. 

“Shit, babydoll,” he growled. “S’fucking tight around my cock.”

“You feel so good, Joel,” you hummed. “Please, I need it harder.”

Listening to your pleas, Joel planted his hands on either side of your face, pistoning into you with brute force. He bent down, sucking and biting the skin of your neck until you were crying out from the pain mixing with the pleasure. You rolled your hips to meet him thrust for thrust, your cunt fluttering against his cock each time. That blinding orgasm was on the horizon as your muscles tensed up for its release. Running your hands up under his shirt, you dug your nails into his back muscles, dragging them down his tanned skin. Joel groaned into your ear, his hips snapping against yours harder and faster.

“Oh fuck! Oh fuck!” You sobbed. “I–I’m gonna fucking cum, Joel!”

“Yeah, babydoll? Fuckin’ soak me with it.”

He pulled out at the last moment, a heavy stream of liquid pouring from your cunt and coating your inner thighs and Joel’s cock. Without wasting a second, he drove back into you, picking up the pace despite your body still shaking and dripping from your orgasm. You could feel your tears rolling down the sides of your face, that warmth still coursing inside you. Joel’s thrusts grew erratic and off-rhythm, and you sensed his orgasm was pushing him to the edge. 

“Y’gonna let me fill that pussy, darlin’?” His lips grazed the shell of your ear as his voice sent shivers up your spine.

“God, please,” you cried.

With one…two…three final strokes, Joel was grunting and painting your insides with thick bursts of his cum. You both lay there limp and fucked out for several moments, catching your breath and chuckling as reality settled back in. He slipped out of you and drew his pants back up his legs, his eyes roaming over your sweaty body. With one hand, he tugged up the zipper of his jeans, using the other to push the cum leaking out of you back into your wet cunt. 

“Gotta send you off with some sort of parting gift,” he laughed.

You couldn’t help but laugh, too, adjusting yourself and sliding off the hood. Joel bent down to ease your pants back over your thighs and hips, helping with your own zipper as you stood awkwardly in front of him. Joel leaned in to kiss your cheek before walking to the corkboard hanging from the wall. Retrieving your keys from one of the hooks, he offered them to you with a kind smile.

“I’m free to go?” You asked, reaching for them. 

He pulled them away, shaking his head with a teasing grin. You pouted sarcastically, opening your hand and waiting.

“One kiss, and we call it even, babydoll.”

You grabbed either side of his face, pulling him in for a hungry kiss. You coaxed his mouth open, teasing your tongue over his, tasting your arousal still lingering on his tongue. Joel deepened the kiss, tangling his free hand in your hair to anchor you closer. Pressed up against him, you found yourself thirsting for more but knew you had no obligation to stay. Sucking his bottom lip between your teeth, you pulled away reluctantly and snatched the keys from his hand. 

“Thanks for the new tires, cowboy,” you grinned. 

Joel dazzled you with another gorgeous smile, the lines around his eyes creasing as he gave you one final nod. You squeezed your way out of his embrace, making your way to the driver's side door. He followed you over, opening it like the gentleman he was, waiting till you were situated inside. Leaning in for one more kiss, he lingered a moment too long before breaking away.

“Safe travels, darlin’. If you ever need some work done, y’know where to find me.”

You dug your keys into the ignition, letting the car rumble awake. Joel shut the car door with one final smile and watched you reverse out of the mechanic shop. Giving him a small wave, you turned onto the street and back toward the highway with a soreness creeping up your thighs.

[bubble-tea-blossom]

Hear me out fellow Joel sluts, the demon of horny hath possessed me.

Jackson era. Pure smut. Age gap. Frantic fucking on a couch. 18+ only.

Desperate not to cum, Joel thinks about what a terrible person he is.

I mean, he knows her parents for fuck’s sake. He’s over at their house on the regular. How the hell he’s supposed to look them in the eye now? Now after fucking their pretty little daughter like an animal on their own couch.

Joel has her on her back, her legs bouncing in the air while he fucks her in a mating press.

He likes it best this way. When he can get deep, grinding his pelvis against hers. He likes watching her cute face screw up in pleasure, her eyes and mouth popping open when he knocks on her cervix.

She claws at him, arching her back when he grinds even deeper,

“Fuck!” She cries. Joel stares at her lips, puffy and wet from when she sucked on his dick. She’s trembling now when Joel slides his cock in and out. In and out, he fucks her tight channel open with every thrust.

The girl is whining now, tears brimming in her big eyes as all she can do is lie there and take the brutal pounding from a man older than her father.

“Fuck I’m gonna cum,” she whispers, and indeed Joel can feel the walls of her tight little pussy start to flutter. Poor thing’s been put through the ringer tonight.

His mouth falls open in a groan. She feels heavenly, wrapped around his dick and pinned underneath him.

Shit this girl’s gonna drain his balls soon if he’s not careful. And Joel has no plan on this ending anytime soon.

So Joel thinks about what people would say if they found out. What they’d call him behind his back.

Dirty old man. Shit like that.

Joel’s finding it very hard to care when she finally cums. Her cunt squeezes around him like he tasered her. Her back arches as much as it can with all of his bulk pressing down on her.

Joel doesn’t let up his thrusts. No, he fucks her through her orgasm, pummeling her pussy with his cock, his balls slapping against the soaked skin of her asshole.

“Fuck pretty girl, you got a great pussy.” Joel grunts, feeling her tremble underneath him.

She gives a tired laugh, “Thanks.”

“Little thing takes me so well, stretches out nice for me.” He purrs, feeling his own orgasm pull low in his gut.

He slows his thrusts, wanting to savour this. The feeling of her warmth wrapped around him, her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck. The smell of her neck when he sucks and licks.

Her little cunt, warm and wet and all for his taking.

Its too much. Without any further warning, Joel feels a familiar jolt in the base of his spine. He instinctually slams himself as deep as he can while his balls tighten and he pumps shot after shot of cum deep inside her.

The girl doesn’t react how Joel thought she would. She lies there, letting out a little moan at the feeling of his cock throbbing against her walls. It takes a few seconds until she looks up at him, her eyes wide,

“Wait what was that? Did you just cum?” She asks, her voice wavering.

Joel knew he was a bad man when the realization that he was the first man to paint her insides with his seed, makes him rut into her again. Giving short little thrusts, getting the last dregs of his cum inside her walls.

The girl gasps when Joel finally pulls out. He does so slowly, he knows he can be a lot to handle. Especially now that he’s rethinking how experienced she might be.

Breathing heavily, Joel rests with the tip of his cock still pressed against the girl’s seam. She sits up, trying to shift to better see herself. Joel watches with a soft groan when the pearly white fluid pools at the girl’s entrance, before spilling down.

Its thick. And there’s a lot. Joel’s not even sure when the last time he’d had an orgasm was but he must’ve been pretty backed up because now its at risk of staining her parent’s couch.

Joel gathers it with two fingertips, dragging his fingers up her slit before pushing back inside.

Her lip quivers and the shudder that passes through her is one of pleasure, especially when Joel starts to finger her with more rhythm. Pulling her libido back up of the floor, up and running again.

“I am sorry about that. Kinda came outta nowhere. I can get you anything you need.” Joel promises. His sentances are short, but the girl nods, the look on her face showing she understands.

“I might take you up on that,” she says with a sigh at the ministrations Joel’s laying on her.

“But first,” she moans, her knees falling wider, “my parent’s don’t get back til Monday.”

[proxima-writes]

𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐛 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐬

pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x female reader

rating: explicit

word count: 4.1k

summary: joel agrees to go out to tommy’s favorite bar, where he watches you ride a mechanical bull and wishes you would ride him.

warnings: explicit sexual content (18+ minors do not interact), no use of y/n, dual POV, no defined reader age or physical appearance besides outfits, alcohol use, joel getting slapped, tommy is a little shit, first date anxiety, oral (m receiving), dirty talk, praise, pet names, girl on top, couch sex, unprotected p in v, teasing, deep throating, more men whimpering and begging 2k23. let me know if any warnings are missing!

author’s note: look, i know i’m in the middle of my spooky specials but i saw two very specific tik toks that left me with the need to write this 😵‍💫 also this post layout is inspired by @bits-and-babs, whose works and aesthetic are chef’s kiss.

“Why did you pick this place?” Joel grumbles, hand wrapped around a sweating bottle of beer. People keep jostling him as they squeeze past, forcing him to keep his elbow tight to his side to avoid having his beer be collateral damage.

“You’ll see,” Tommy says with a cryptic wink. Joel rolls his eyes.

Tommy has dragged him out to a saloon style bar, complete with swinging wooden doors and longhorn skulls decorating the walls. Everything is shiny dark wood and western motif, down to the saddle style barstools. Most of the patrons have leaned into the theme, too — tassels, leather, cowboys hats, and ostentatious belt buckles.

“Alright, ladies and gentlemen!” A man’s voice calls out over the speakers. “The show is about to begin!”

“Show?” Joel asks dubiously. Tommy only grins at him, dragging him by the arm towards the back of the bar.

He weaves through the crowd until they’re only behind a few rows of people that have gathered around a mechanical bull riding ring, of all things. The floor of the ring is inflatable and in the middle sits the brown bull figure. Joel catches his first glimpse of you, a gorgeous woman in denim cut offs standing beside the bull. Your black leather halter top plunges low to expose your cleavage and stops short of the waist of your shorts, a tantalizing strip of your stomach on display. The black leather of the top matches your black leather boots and the cuffs snapped around your wrists.

“One of Salty Saloon’s very own has stepped up to take the bull by the horns tonight!”

You lift a hand to wave, bright smile on your face as you take in the crowd. Your eyes land on Joel and for a brief moment he swears he stops breathing. He can’t hear anything the emcee is saying, all the noise around him just a dull buzz as he watches you swing yourself up onto the back of the bull.

“Alright, alright, alright! Our rider’s goal is to stay on for one minute using only one hand! If she falls before the buzzer, y’all get nothin’. But if she makes it, shots are half off for the rest of the night!”

A cacophony of cheers erupts around Joel and you straighten your spine, holding your hand out with a thumbs up. The music starts, some pop song he’s heard on the radio in the morning when he’s taking Sarah to school, and the mechanical bull turns in a slow circle. You have one hand twisted in a leather strap, the other raised above your head as the bull bucks and swings, your hips moving smoothly with the machine.

“Goddamn,” someone says from behind Joel. “I ain’t ever wanted to be a bull so bad in my life.”

Me, too, he thinks.

Your thighs press tight against the sides of the bull as it swings around, turning you to face the section of crowd Joel stands in. You release the hand grip, both hands in the air now as you rely solely on your legs and core to keep you up on the machine. When the machine turns again, you manage to lift your body and swing your legs around to reverse your position, now seated facing the back of the bull.

“Alright, ten more seconds!” The emcee calls out. The crowd starts to cheer your name and Joel can’t help but join in, eyes glued to you as you continue to swing and sway like all the movements are nothing but second nature to you.

“Three! Two! One!”

A cowbell goes off, signaling the end of your ride. The bull slows to a stop and you sit there for a moment to catch your breath, waving at the crowd. The bar owner, Johnny, comes out onto the crash pad with a huge grin on his face.

“Great job up there, kid. Now go sell some half priced shots,” he says with a good natured pat on your shoulder.

You return to the bar, where the other two bartenders scheduled tonight field the after-show rush, lining up shot glasses and filling them in quick succession with the requested liquor. When you get behind the bar, a familiar head of curly hair catches your eye.

“Tommy!” You call, excited to see one of you favorite regulars. He shouts your name as you stop in front of him.

“This is my brother, Joel!” He says, slapping the back of the man beside him. You’d seen him in the crowd, a handsome guy with broad shoulders stretching a dark blue t-shirt, warm tan skin, and messy curls that speak to the family resemblance between him and Tommy. You reach a hand across the bar, Joel’s calloused fingers dragging against your palm as you greet the man.

“It’s nice to meet you, Joel. Can I get y’all anything?” You ask. Tommy grins.

“Let me get this man a slap shot!” He yells.

You glance at Joel. “That okay with you?” You ask.

His eyes are comically wide as he nods. You step back to ring the bell behind the bar, your fellow bartenders whooping and cheering, a chant of “SLAP SHOT! SLAP SHOT!” echoing around you.

Haley sets a glass of water on the bar for you and you grab a pint glass, filling it with ice and two ounces of Jim Beam and amaretto. You smack the steel shaker on top, grabbing both glasses and shaking them vigorously over your shoulder.

You strain the contents of the shaker into a shot glass, amber liquid flowing to the brim. When you’ve got everything ready, you leave the back of the bar and squeeze your way through the crowd until you’re in front of the two brothers and can hoist yourself up onto the bar.

“Alright, Joel, are you ready?” You shout. He looks a little confused, brows pinched tight over kind brown eyes, but he nods anyway, holding his hand out for the shot glass. Tommy watches with a shit eating grin. “Three! Two! One!”

Joel takes the shot and you follow it with a glass of water to his face and a slap across his jaw in quick succession. Tommy is howling with laughter and Joel’s face is one of pure shock, red blooming across the skin of his cheek. He turns to his brother.

“Tommy, what the fuck!” Joel shouts. His hand wraps into the neck of Tommy’s shirt. “You little fuckin’ shit!”

You have the sinking realization that Joel wasn’t prepared for what a slap shot entails. You had just assumed this was something Tommy had told him about, having been to the bar so much the last few months.

Joel looks mad as hell, his shoulders tense and you worry he may actually throw a punch at Tommy. You hop from the bar and get between the two men, pressing a hand to their chests and pushing them apart.

"You, come with me," you say, pointing to Joel. "And you," -- you jab a finger into Tommy's chest -- "are on my shit list."

You take Joel by the hand and guide him to the back office, shutting the door and muffling the noises of the bar beyond it. His face is still dripping wet and the water dripping from his chin has gathered into a sizeable spot on the collar of his shirt.

"I am so, so sorry," you start, rifling through the storage cabinet for a bar towel. You hold it out to him, avoiding his gaze. "Tommy comes here so much that I just thought he'd told you about what a slap shot was. I should have told you, oh my god."

"Hey, it's okay. I ain't mad at you," Joel says, running the towel over his damp face. "Tommy, though. I'm gonna kick his fuckin' ass later."

"Still," you mumble, twisting your hands together nervously. "I'm sorry. Is your cheek okay?"

He rubs the towel over his head to dry his hair a bit, the action leaving him adorable mussed, curly strands sticking up in every direction. You're staring at him, maybe a little too much, but who can blame you? The man is hot.

"Yeah, trust me. I've had worse," Joel replies with a laugh.

"You get slapped by women often?" You tease.

"The number of times ain't just one."

"Oh, a bad boy. Mama warned me about guys like you."

He laughs again, long and low, running a hand through his hair. "Well, thank you for the towel."

"Right. And your next drink is on me. As an apology," you tell him.

"I'd rather get your number," he says. "You know, as an apology."

You raise your eyebrows at him before turning to the manager's desk, grabbing a marker and tugging the cap off with your teeth. You slide a hand down his arm, lifting his forearm up so that you can write down your number across the smooth, tan skin.

"I'm off next weekend," you comment when you've recapped the marker.

"I'll keep that in mind," Joel replies with a grin.

Joel's nervous as he waits outside of your apartment building in his truck, fingers tapping a nameless tune against the steering wheel. It's Saturday night and he's here to pick you up for dinner at a restaurant in downtown Austin, one that required he dig out the old black button down he keeps shoved in the back of his closet for parent-teacher conferences and funerals.

The front door to your building opens and you emerge, dressed in a pretty red wrap dress and black heels. Joel gets out of the truck and jogs around to the passenger side to open the door for you and he's surprised when you lean up and kiss him on the cheek.

"Hey," you say in greeting, climbing into the truck and settling into the passenger seat, your purse on your lap. Joel can't help the dopey grin that's surely stretched across his face.

“Hey, yourself. You look nice,” he replies. He shuts the door and jogs around the the driver’s side.

“You don’t look so bad either,” you tell him as he starts the truck up. He can feel his cheeks get warm and he hopes that you can’t see him the proof of his nerves in the dark cab.

At the restaurant, the host leads you both to a small table towards the back of the restaurant, pristine white tablecloth topped with a small vase of flowers and a flickering votive candle. A waiter in a white button down comes by to take your drink orders before disappearing the the kitchen, leaving the two of you regarding each other in silence.

“Look, I gotta be honest about somethin’,” Joel says, leg bouncing beneath the table. “I’ve got a kid. Sarah, she’s thirteen. Light of my life, you know?” He takes a deep breath before finishing with, “And I don’t think I’ve even been on a date since she’s been born, so this is just…a little new to me.”

“You have a kid?” You ask. For a moment Joel worries that he may have ended this before it could even get a chance to begin, but then your face lights up with a sweet smile and you ask, “Will you tell me about her?”

Joel does. In between ordering and eating your delicious meals, you and Joel discuss anything and everything. He tells you about Sarah and his contracting work, while you tell him about your full time job as a pharmacy technician, the gig at the bar a part time thing on some weekends. He nearly makes you snort your water out of your nose with a story about rescuing Tommy from the bathroom of the girl he’d been seeing when her long distance boyfriend, who Tommy didn’t know existed, showed up at her apartment.

“Oh my god,” you exclaim breathlessly. “And he just jumped out of the bathroom window?”

“To be fair, she had a first floor unit,” Joel confirms. “His royal pain in the ass still made me take him to urgent care because he thought he broke his ankle.”

“You’re a good brother,” you say with a smile. Joel feels the warmth of it in his veins.

After dinner, the ride back to your place is quiet, the comfortable silence filled with the low music from the radio. In a moment of bravery, Joel reaches over and lays a hand on your low thigh, just above your knee as he drives. He refuses to look over at you, but from the corner of his eye he sees you look down at his hand before looking back out the window.

He counts that as a win.

He pulls up the curb outside your apartment and kills the engine. You speak before he has a chance to agonize over what to say.

“Will you walk me to my door?” You ask.

He feels relief and anxiety in one fell swoop. He agonizes internally over whether to kiss you goodnight as he follows you up the stairs to your apartment, the buzzing in his brain momentarily silenced while he watches your hips sway as you climb the steps.

You stop on the second floor, guiding him down a long hallway to a door marked with a black metal number three. You turn to face him, looking up at him through your lashes.

“This is me,” you murmur. Joel swallows nervously.

“Right. I, uh…I had a really great time tonight,” he says.

“Would you…want to come inside?”

Joel’s brain short circuits. “Would I—? Yeah.”

You turn to unlock the door, pushing into your apartment and Joel follows you inside. The apartment is dark but you quickly turn on the lights as you move further inside, illuminating an open living room with a dining nook. There’s a door off to the right that he assumes is your bedroom and an open kitchen to the left. It’s small, but it’s cozy, bursting with colors and fabrics and mismatched furniture.

“Well, this is home,” you say with a shrug. You set your purse down on the small circular dining table. “Can I get you anything to drink? I’ve got beer, some liquor on the bar cart over there if you want to have a look.”

“Beer is fine,” Joel says, taking a seat on the comfy looking couch. You return with a bottle of beer, passing it to him before settling in beside him, kicking off your heels and drawing your legs up beneath you.

He takes a sip, fortifying his nerves. He wasn’t lying when he said it’s been a long time since he’s been on a date, but even sex has been a distant thought for the last year or so. He doesn’t want to mess this up.

“So,” you start, your elbow pressed into the back couch cushion while you lean your face into the palm of your hand. “You wanna know what I think?”

“‘Bout what?” Joel asks.

“You.”

“You got a report card ready for me already?”

“I think” — you take the beer bottle from his hand, setting it on the coffee table — “you’ve spent a long time being a caretaker. Right? You’ve got Tommy, who was already a handful. Your daughter, who’s obviously priority number one. You’ve got a business to worry about, workers to care for.” You shuffle closer on your knees, swinging a leg over his and settling yourself onto his lap. “This okay?” You ask.

“Yeah,” he replies, probably a bit too enthusiastically. His fingers curl into the couch cushions and he wants to reach up to wrap his hands around your waist but he’s not sure if he should.

You play with the collar of his shirt. “What do you think about having someone take care of you for a change?”

Joel’s stomach flips, cock jumping in interest as the blood in his brain rushes south and leaves him only capable of responding with a mumbled, “Oh?”

“I just think you deserve someone treating you real nice,” you say with a shrug. Deft fingers work at undoing the buttons of his shirt. “Especially when I was so mean when we met, slapping you across the face like I did.”

“Told you not to worry ‘bout that,” he replies, head dropping against the back cushions. “S’not like I didn’t like it.”

“You like to be roughed up a little, Mr. Miller?”

“Maybe.”

Your grin is wicked as you drag your nails down the now exposed skin of his chest. He hisses at the sting of it.

“Interesting,” you murmur. You lean close, chest pressed against his, hands coming up to frame his face. Your nails scratch through his beard now and he groans his appreciation.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks. “Please?”

You respond by pressing your lips to his, chaste as first. Your mouths move together slowly, feeling each other out. It’s you that takes it deeper, tracing your tongue over his bottom lip and dipping it inside to tangle with his. He wraps his arms around your low back, holding you tightly in his lap as he consumes you, drunk on the feeling of your breath in his lungs.

You drags yours lips away from his with a slick sound, trailing them along his jaw and towards his ear. You nip at his earlobe, teeth gentle and breath hot before whispering, “Can I suck your cock, Joel?”

A whimper claws it’s way up Joel’s throat as he nods, already unable to form words. He’s no stranger to turning into a puddle for a pretty woman but he’s certain this must be a new record.

You slip from his lap and kneel on the floor, pushing his legs apart so that you can settle in between them. Your hands reach for his belt, tugging on the buckle and pulling it loose so that you can pop the button of his jeans and tug the zipper down, the metallic sound loud in the quiet room.

Your fingers curl into the waist of his jeans and Joel lifts his hips a bit to aid you in tugging them halfway down his thighs. His cock tents his boxers in an obscene way, a wet spot already staining the fabric. You run your palms up his thighs before bracketing his member between your hands, lightly running your thumbs up his length.

“Christ,” Joel says, teeth digging into his lip.

“That feel good?” You ask.

“Uh huh.”

You smile beatifically before leaning forward, warm breath on his covered cock as you press gentle kisses through the fabric. Joel’s hips twitch and he lets out a deep groan.

You tug the elastic of his boxers over his length, tucking it beneath his balls. He’s practically vibrating with need but you continue to take your sweet time, pressing more kisses along his shaft, tracing the tip of your tongue over the prominent vein.

“You have a pretty cock, Joel,” you say, wrapping your hand around the base of him to hold him steady. It’s a struggle to keep his eyes open but he doesn’t want to miss the sight of your tongue lapping at the bead of precum gathered on his flushed tip, or the way your own eyes flutter shut as you let out a little moan of appreciation.

You wrap your lips around his cock, taking him inch by agonizing inch into your warm mouth and Joel feels any semblance of sanity disappear from his lust clouded brain. Your eyes stay fixed on him as take him in as far as you can, throat fluttering around the sensitive head when you swallow before pulling up, twirling your tongue around the tip, and plunging back down.

“Christ,” Joel groans, reaching out to cup your cheek. “You look so goddamn good like that.”

You lift off his cock and take it in your hand, moving it across your lips as you ask, “Like what?”

“Chokin’ on my cock, sweetheart,” he growls.

“That was nothing.”

Joel’s about to ask what you mean when you lower your mouth over his length once more. He can feel you flatten your tongue, your throat and jaw relaxing enough to take him to the very base, your nose tickling the wiry curls on his pelvis. He moans as you swallow around him, breathing through your nose and holding yourself there for a moment before coming up with a gasp, tears gathered in the corners of your eyes and spit making your chin shiny in the low light.

“So…I could keep doing this,” you tell him, “or…”

“Or?” He asks.

“Or…you could let me make us both feel good.”

You stand up, your hands untying the knot that holds your dress together so you can push it off your shoulders, letting it fall to the floor in a heap. You push your panties down your legs and unhook your bra, leaving you gloriously naked in front him, every inch of you like a piece of art meant to be admired. Joel’s hands, greedy and unfulfilled up until now, reach up to grip your hips and pull you onto his lap, your pussy hot and wet against his cock. He lets his hands wander over every inch of exposed skin, relishing the way your ass fits in his palms and the way you hiss when his thumb caresses a tight nipple.

“You’re so fuckin’ pretty,” he moans, his lips against your rapid pulse, teeth ghosting the thin skin of your neck. “Need you so bad, baby.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you,” you whisper, reaching between your bodies to hold his throbbing cock steady, notching it at your soaked entrance and beginning a slow slide down.

Joel is panting against your sweat slick chest, mumbling desperate words into your skin as you take him inside of you as slowly as you can, thighs burning with the effort. When you’ve finally seated yourself on his lap, his head drops back to the cushion, eyes squeezed shut tightly and fingers nearly bruising on your thighs.

“Don’t move, don’t move, don’t move,” he begs. “Oh, fuck, feels so good.”

Where he’s desperate for you to stay still, you’re already desperate to move. His cock is perfect, thick and long with a slight upward curve, pressing up against your g-spot with stunning accuracy. You’re certain this won’t last long for either of you.

You rock slowly, forward and back, little movements of your hips. Joel lifts his head, looking down at where your bodies are connected with dark eyes. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, tangling your fingers in his hair and giving it a sharp tug that has him hissing your name.

You start to move more quickly, rolling your body in smooth waves over his. He’s panting as he looks up at you, sweat gathering at his temple, and his hands grip your ass and follow your movement reverently.

“So fuckin’ good,” he moans, “you’re gonna make me come, baby, goddamn.”

You speed up, bouncing on his lap now. Your couch creaks the slightest bit, protesting your movements, but you don’t care — all you care about is the man beneath you and the desperate little noises spilling from his lips as you make good on your promise to take care of him.

“Touch me,” you command. “I’m so close, Joel, please.”

He’s a good listener, your Joel, his thumb immediately finding your clit and circling it with messy movements that drive you wild, that tension in your muscles coiling tighter. Joel’s hips flex into yours with each drop down his length, the room echoing with the lewd sounds of skin against skin and the chorus of whimpers that spill from both of you.

“Joel, Joel, Joel,” you chant. He wraps his arms around you, really thrusting into you now as your own movements falter and you collapse forward, head buried against his neck as you come, trembling with the strength of it.

It’s not long after that he goes still, cock pulsing inside of you as the aftershocks of your orgasm wash over you. You stay slumped against each other, catching your breaths and waiting for your racing hearts to come back down to earth.

“That was…,” Joel says with a breathless laugh that shakes his chest. His fingers play up and down your back, soothing and gentle. “Goddamn, that was amazin’.”

“Yeah?” You ask, lifting your head. You smooth his messy hair back from his forehead. “You weren’t so bad either.”

He nips at your neck in retaliation, making you laugh and squirm away from him.

“Do you have to get going?” You ask.

“No,” he replies. “Tommy’s watchin’ Sarah for me tonight. He owes me one. Besides, I’m ain’t done with you yet.”

“No?”

“Not even close, darlin’.”

Joel Miller masterlist

All masterlists

[endlessthxxghts]

Best I Ever Had

Jackson!Joel Miller x afab!reader | w/c: 2.3k

Summary: Someone tries to hit on you on your night out with Joel, insulting your man in the process, and oh you don't like that. You blow off some steam in more ways than one.

Content/Warnings: Reader is able-bodied, no physical descriptions. Feminine perception of reader and feminine pet names (Joel calls you mama and babygirl), but no pronouns used. Reader's a fucking badass and can hold their own fights (probably Joel's too, tbh). Slight description of reader getting physical/violent with another person (bby has some anger issues). Established relationship. Implied age gap (exact number unspecified). A bit of insecure Joel. 18+ MDNI! Dom!reader !! Sub!Joel !!!! P in V unprotected. Slight breeding kink (reader just likes being filled, no children talk). Joel has a fast refractory period (don't think too much on it, just enjoy). Definitely some overstimulation. Cockwarming. Riding..straddling.. Teasing. Begging. Edging. Sloppy making out. Multiple orgasms. Please let me know if there’s anything I missed that should be up here!

A/N: Some get post-nut clarity, but I get post-nut lust. This was the product of that. Hope you enjoy, my angels. Thank you @honeyedmiller for beta’ing 🩶 also I picture both game Joel or hbo Joel, so it’s entirely up to you what you wanna visualize ;)

masterlist | updates blog

It was a busy night at the Tipsy Bison. Everyone was out. Everyone was mingling, getting to know each other. As if it wasn’t a small town already, but hey, it wouldn’t hurt to make sure you really knew the people living in this little forever-town. 

Except, Joel was not one to mingle—especially on nights like tonight. Tommy insisted that he come, it’ll be nice, he tried to reason. 

He eventually agreed. Not because of Tommy, though, but because of you. 

You knew Joel was a certified grump, through and through. And you love Joel, you really do. But the post-apocalyptic world caused you to react differently than your man. Yeah, you’ve become tougher, harder to break, harder to trust. However, you crave any sense of normalcy you can find. So on occasion, you like to go out and get to know the people of the town. You like human interaction. 

And when they say opposites attract, the saying couldn’t have been more true. Joel was absolutely smitten the day he met you. It’s been a long time coming between you two—with his vulnerability, or lack thereof, and his initial unwillingness to accept that he can finally relax and unclench his jaw—but you’re together now, stronger than ever, and everything is worth it. 

You are worth it. 

Which is exactly why all you needed was to give one raise of your brow during his protesting before Joel promptly shuts his lips and takes a defeated breath, fixing his answer to Tommy. “Oh, hell. Alright, brother, we’ll be there.” 

And to be quite honest, Joel would go as far to say that tonight’s little get together was actually decent for once. That is, until he sees you waiting on the bartender for his beer and your old-fashioned, and a man—a boy—approaches you. 

“Hey,” you heard a voice beside you say. Not realizing it was meant for you, your attention stays on the bartender. Still, the voice persists. “I was thinking, uh-” you look at the guy then, eyes staring him down in a way he perceives as a challenge. 

He clears his throat. “I was thinking I could buy you a drink?” 

“No, I’m good,” you say shortly. The bartender comes up to you, pulling you away from the guy’s feeble attempt at flirting. You tell the bartender your order, and before you can take another moment to speak, the guy pipes up. 

“Put it on my tab,” he smirks triumphantly, taking a closer step to you. 

You pull yourself away on instinct— out of disgust, but your eyes stay trained on his gaze. You’re pissed, but this naïve little boy has no idea. Both of what you're capable of and what the older man, your older man, across the bar is capable of. 

“Thanks,” you smile, “my boyfriend’s gonna appreciate the free drink,” you tell the guy, turning to Joel and giving him a sweet smile. You’ve been feeling his stare the second this waste of space walked up to you.

Joel would pounce if you told him to. He knows you can handle yourself, though, and you confirm it through that pretty smile you flash him. He can’t deny the way his cock twitches at the way this scene is unfolding. Part of him is begging for the guy to try something more, to test you—to unleash you. 

The guy scoffs the second he sees Joel. “That old man is your boyfriend? Come on, baby,” his hand reaches for the crook of your elbow. “You can do so much better than that,” he taunts. 

And that was the something more you needed. Immediately your hand takes hold of his wrist, twisting the man to face the bar in a rough fashion as you lean him over the bar counter, his arm twisted behind his back, shoulder ready to snap out of his socket with the tiniest of movements. 

“Wanna say that again?” You seethe, knocking the breath from his lungs as you push him into the wooden counter. 

“I said—” 

He’s cut off by his own high-pitched scream. You push his arm higher, a sharp pain shooting through every nerve center in the guy’s arm. 

“Sweetheart,” a southern twang says softly, but it’s not your man. Tommy. “I know he probably deserves it, darlin’, but it’s not worth it,” he says, not wanting to aggravate you more. Everyone knows not to test you. 

Well, apparently not everyone. 

You roll your eyes, knowing Tommy’s just trying to keep up the liveliness of tonight. “Fine,” you mutter. Leaning closer into the guy, you whisper into his ear. “Talk about my fuckin’ man like that again, and I’ll snap your shoulder so fuckin’ hard, Jackson’s doctors won’t even know what to do with ya. Ya hear me?” You’re not from the South, and before the outbreak, you’ve never even been. But get angry enough, and Joel’s twang possesses you.

You release the crying boy with a shove, and you back up, wanting to pull yourself away from the situation. Your back is met with something hard, and immediately you know who it is. You soften in his touch as his arms immediately wrap around your waist. “You alright, babygirl?” Joel rasps in your ear. You can feel his fucking hard-on pressed against your back. 

The guy looks at you and Joel, chest still heaving as his face turns into disgust, a fuck you muttered under his breath, an aftertaste of jealousy on his lips. 

Smiling wildly at the guy in front of you, you snake your hand up to wrap around Joel’s jaw before you turn your head back and tilt your head up, pulling Joel into an open-mouthed kiss, your tongue pushing into his mouth as he eagerly sucks it, lapping up your spit. He groans into you, his arms pulling you impossibly tighter into him. 

You pull away with a harsh nip to his lip, feeding off the little whimper Joel lets out. “Baby,” he whines. 

You look back to the guy, and the silent audience you’ve accumulated. “Come on, cowboy,” you breathe. “I’m not done with you.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replies happily, spinning you two around and walking out with you still pressed against him. 

The bar stays quiet after a beat. Tommy’s hand slaps the bar counter before he speaks. “Well. Get the music back going unless y’all wanna hear ‘em goin’ at it all night!” The bar roars in laughter, the music coming back to life. 

Before returning back to Maria, Tommy turns to the guy. “You. Out.” 

He scrambles without looking back.

“Oh my God, baby.”

“Fuck— I- I can’t, baby, I can’t hold it much longer, baby, I need to come.”

“Just one more second, baby.”

“Mama, please,” he cries out, his head lolling from side to side on his sweat-soaked pillow as you grind your hips into his pelvis, lifting yourself on and off him every other moment. His hands hold onto your hips, not in a way to control your movement but to simply feel you. 

“Oh, come on, be a good boy for me, baby,” you moan, your hand fixing itself onto his jaw to make him look at you. “Just wanna feel you twitch inside me a little bit more ‘fore you make a mess inside me, okay?”

“Oh, fuck— yes, yes, mama, yes, okay,” he rambles, trying his hardest to breathe through the pleasurable pain as you take and take and take. 

A particular grind sends your back arching, his pubes soaked in your arousal nudging perfectly against your clit, sending an electric pulse up your spine. You cry out in ecstasy, your climax hitting you instantly. “Oh fuck, oh shit- fuckfuckfuck, baby, come with me— come inside me, baby, fucking fill me,” you nearly scream, hoping that boy can hear you now. 

“Shit, baby, oh my God- fuck- I’m coming, mama, holy fuck- I-” he stutters, his thigh muscles shaking underneath you as you bounce on him through his climax, the mix of his spend with yours bouncing lewdly across the walls of your shared bedroom. 

Your hips come to a slow but never stop, your chest heaving as you lean down to bring your lips to Joel. You let them ghost across his lips, but you don’t let them touch. He knows better not to chase it, not yet, anyway. He can still feel you fuming. 

You can do so much better than that.

“Can you fucking believe him?” You whisper against his lips, barely audible yet fucking scary nonetheless. 

Joel thinks that boy is right, deep down. Even though he’d never want you to leave him, and you’d never want him to leave you. Joel thinks that there’s a crumb of moral rightness in that statement. But he keeps that to himself. 

Nevertheless, you know Joel like the back of your hand. He doesn’t need to utter a lick of anything to you. You already know what he’s thinking. 

“Joel,” you say again. “I asked you a question.”

All questions must be answered. 

Fuck. 

“Y-yeah, baby,” he rumbles, too distracted by the comments from the bar, but mainly still caught up in the way his softening come-covered cock is still nestled inside of you. 

You sit up now. A whine leaves his throat at the movement. “So you do believe him?” 

Only then does he realize what he said. His eyes shoot up to yours. “W-wait, no, baby, ‘m sorry, no. No, I don’t believe him, baby,” he panics. 

You quirk your eyebrow at him. 

“The fuckin’ audacity on ‘em,” he adds for good measure. 

You’re silent for a beat. Then—

“You’re lying.”

Joel’s heart starts to race. “No, baby. Please. Mama, I’m not lyin’,” he tries. 

Still straddling his hips, you grab onto his bicep, pulling upward. He gets the hint and sits up. He’s still inside you, his cock slowly growing to full mast again the longer you sit here. 

You’re face to face now. His arms are loosely wrapped around your waist, your arms tightly around his neck.

“Look me in my eye,” you whisper, “and tell me you’re the best I ever had.”

Joel audibly gulps. 

Slow— so slow, your hips begin to move again. A breathy little moan escapes your mouth, and he lunges forward for you, his tongue dancing along the tip of yours, swallowing your breath. You allow it. 

“Tell me,” you groan into his mouth, practically swallowing his tongue as you shallowly bounce yourself on him. 

“Baby,” he whines, getting lost in this dance of heat and sweat he’s become utterly addicted to. 

You break yourself away from his mouth, not allowing him the option to reach for you anymore. He pulls back, eyes wild and sad. His mouth turned down into a literal pout. 

“My poor baby,” you mutter. “Tell me what I wanna hear,” you say again. “Or you’re not getting my lips nor are you coming for the rest of the night,” you tell him, switching back into your grinding motion to stimulate your sensitive bud, letting him feel the way your pussy flutters around him. 

“Baby,” he begs again as you grind, your warmth forcing him to another climax. Please don’t make me say it, he’s trying to convince you. 

Your fingers find their home at the base of his salt and pepper curls, tugging them in warning. “Tell. Me.”

You force his body down to lay flat on the bed again, towering over him, allowing your body the space to lift yourself off of him, only his tip inside of you. He takes a sharp breath in, knowing what’s coming. 

You drop yourself down on him, fucking yourself on his cock at a bruising pace. You grab his hands and drag them up to your chest, wrapping his thick digits around you encouraging him to squeeze. 

“Fuck- mama, I’m gonna—”

“No the fuck you’re not, baby,” you moan, lost in the pleasure but still rightfully in charge. “Swear to God, Joel, gonna leave you fucking swollen and pulsing for a fucking week— oh fuck,” you cut yourself off, a familiar sensation building at the base of your spine, sending you convulsing around his length yet again. 

Joel’s eyes clamp shut, finally giving into your request so he can finally let go. “I— shit, I’m the—” a rugged moan forces itself out, “—the best you ever had, mama, please, the fuckin’ best, baby,” he cries out, his hips bucking up into you as he covers every inch of you with his spend. 

“Shit,” you moan, his words affecting you a lot more than you anticipated, your hips doing overtime, unable to find it within you to stop even as he begins to soften. “Yes, fuck, that’s my boy, shit—” you breathe, “—the fucking best, always make me feel so fucking good, baby.”

His hands finally use their strength, trying his best to slow you with ease, his nerves reaching the point of painful overstimulation. “Alright, baby, alright,” he winces. 

Recognizing his limits, you immediately begin to slow, lowering yourself onto his heaving chest. You let him slip out of you this time, giving him an actual break. “I’m sorry,” you whisper into his chest. 

“For what, baby?” Joel responds with a kiss into your head.

“Did I go too far?”

He couldn’t help the belly laugh that shakes the both of you. You immediately sit back up, your hands on his chest to keep your limp body up. “What?” you glare at him.

“Too far? Which part, darlin’? Nearly breakin’ that guy’s shoulder or my dick?”

A belly laugh erupts out of you this time. Taking a moment to compose yourself, you respond. “...Both.”

“Mmm…” Joel puts on a fake thinking face. “Maybe to the former, but not at all to the latter,” he hums, his hands finding the back of your head to pull you in for a chaste kiss. 

You hum into his lips, a smile stretching across your cheeks. 

Resting your head on his chest, you let a few moments pass before you speak again. “Tommy’s not gonna invite us to another one of those, huh?” 

“Probably not, mama,” he smiles. “Probably not.”

I’d love to hear what you think!! Any feedback or interactions with you all truly brightens my day. So so so much love for you all. Thank you for being here 🩶

I cannot get myself to write for Joel or for TLOU without mentioning the horrors occurring in Palestine. Please check out the links in my navigation + bio to learn about the situation in Palestine and also learn about some ways in which you can help🇵🇸. Reading and interacting with those links takes 5 minutes of your time at the bare minimum.

graphics by @saradika-graphics (middle divider in fic by me)