#joel x y/n pre outbreak

[reese-tasteslikepepsicola]

Thinking about:

Joel and Reader having a similar relationship to Jay and Gloria Pritchett from Modern Family HC <3

No outbreak au! Joel miller x Fem!Reader

(I recommend you watch Jay and Gloria clips on YouTube <3)

Disclaimer: My fics are inclusive and open to any size and any ethnicity + race reader 💕

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• Joel Miller is at peace with his life.

• He recently has turned 56, Sarah is attending her dream college, Tommy finally moved out to live with his wife, Maria, and Joel’s contracting business has been doing very well which makes him no longer stress about paying bills on time and worrying about being able to afford Sarah’s college.

• A relationship was not something he was trying to look for, he didn’t see why he had to at his age.

• He has already had his fair share of girlfriends, his last and longest lasting one ending in a messy divorce.

• Her name was Diane. She caused Joel nothing but stress and negative energy, and showed clear signs of mental illness.

• The day that she moved out of the house, Sarah came home from college to visit and she expressed to her dad that the house no longer felt suffocating and negative.

• She tried to get him to open up, but Joel was very closed off when it came to his feelings, and he didn’t want to put all of his emotions on his baby girl.

• Even though Joel had everything, he still felt grumpy due to his older age stopping him from being able to bend down for long periods of time at work like he used to, and having to shamefully ask his young colleagues to complete those jobs, and also that very crazy ex-wife of his that burnt him out.

• He thought that was the end to his love life until he met you.

• It was mid July on a hot Texas day, Joel and Tommy decided to meet up at a small 50s themed Diner to catch up.

• While the brothers were chatting and eating their greasy meals, Tommy doing most of the talking, Joel heard a sweet, soft voice from behind him,

“What can I get y’all today?” A soft voice spoke. Joel’s head perched up and he began looking around, the voice dragging him in like a siren calling out to a pirate at sea,

“The specials today are our strawberry cola float and cheese fries” His eyes finally landed on you.

• There stood you, a pretty, young waitress in a white and pink uniform, a smile beaming on your sweaty, glowing face.

• Joel was hypnotized by your beauty.

• He watched as you laughed at something the old couple said, your head thrown back and your hair swaying from side to side in almost slow motion.

• He could feel his face heat up and his mouth no longer chewing the few fries he shoved in seconds ago,

“Earth to Joel?” He broke out of his trance and turned around to look at his little brother,

“Who were you lookin’ at?” Joel shook his head and went back to chewing,

“Nobody. So how’s Maria?” Tommy smirked and squinted his eyes,

“I just said how she was that whole time you were ogling over that young waitress” Tommy laughed,

“I ain’t lookin’ at anybody, alright?” The oldest brother snapped, rubbing his beard. Tommy laughed even louder and leaned back in the booth,

“She is quite a doll, ain’t she? I’d ask her out” Joel scoffed and kicked his brother under the table,

“Calm down, brother. Your married for fuck sake” He responded, giving him a serious look.

Tommy rolled his eyes and became defensive,

“Y-Yeah, I know! I was just sayin’!” He shoved a handle of fries in his mouth to shut himself up.

Joel chuckled sarcastically at his brother,

“Yeah. Whatever ya say”

• Anytime you passed by their booth, Joel would un-knowingly straighten his posture and suck in his stomach and clear his throat, giving you an awkward nod and grin. And it made Tommy laugh every time.

• To put an end to his big brother’s suffering, the younger brother politely called out to you and signalled for a refill on their coffees.

• You happily did so, and to Joel’s surprise, you began sparking up a conversation with him.

• When Joel noticed your finger twirling in your hair and your laugh at his lame jokes, it gave him the confidence to ask you out.

• He felt like a young man, again.

• He swooped you off your feet.

• From then on, you guys fell in love and began a relationship.

• Joel proposed to you only five months later.

• Anybody would’ve told you both that you were moving too fast, and most importantly, that you were both very different people.

• Joel was a closed off, rugged 56 year old man, and you were an expressive, confident, hot-headed 27 year old woman.

• In a way, you balanced each other out perfectly.

• You would push Joel out of his comfort zone to be more honest with his feelings and open up, and Joel would show you how to be more tame and not immediately become defensive or sensitive about things.

• Your wedding was small but fancy, and Sarah had helped you plan it and went shopping with you a lot, using those times as a way to bond with you since she was not sure how to feel at first with her old father marrying a very much younger woman so quickly.

• After spending time with you, she became close to you and knew you were going to love and cherish her Daddy.

• Also, she thought it was impressive that you got him to start showing emotions and slowly open up, talking about his feelings and becoming less stubborn.

• Now, it took a while for Joel to get used to you, as in the way to get used to how you treated life, your friends, your family, and how you were a magnet to hot men.

• He always had a very small family and a quiet life. It was always him, Tommy and Sarah.

• Holidays were never a big deal, always just ordering Chinese food and watching old Christmas movies with Sarah and Tommy.

• So, when you moved in and quit your job to be a stay at home wife (very much Joel’s idea), he was surprised as to how much serious you took holidays,

“Woah, woah! What’s all this?” Joel asked, watching you put up colourful Christmas lights. He looked around and saw little snowmen statues and Christmas themed pillows laid out on the leather sofa,

“It’s Christmas, Joel! It’s the time of the year where you spend time with you family and decorate and dance with your loved ones and cook turkey!” He placed a hand on his hip and lifted an eyebrow,

“Ain’t this a little much? I usually just get a fake tree and decorate it” You rolled your eyes and climb down the small ladder,

“A little much? This isn’t even half of it! When I was a little girl, my mommy and daddy would throw a huge Christmas Eve party that had games and dancing and a bunch of home made food. Then, after twelve a.m, we’d set off fireworks!” Joel rubbed his forehead and flopped down on the couch,

“I usually just order Chinese and watch sappy Christmas movies all night” You sighed and tossed a Santa plushy at him,

“Listen, I quit my job and left my apartment to come and live with you and take care of the house while you are away at work 24/7. The most you can do is include how I celebrate Christmas. Okay?” He nodded and stared down at the Santa in his hands,

“Okay?” You repeated, placing your hands on your hips and giving him that ‘you better verbally say something’ look,

“Yeah, yeah, okay” You grinned and placed a kiss on his cheek,

“Good” You started waking down the hall, the sound of your expensive heels echoing,

“and, we are going out with Sarah tonight and cutting down a real tree!” You yelled out. Joel groaned but couldn’t help crack a smile,

“Yes, m’am”

• When it came to your family and friends, Joel was very surprised and not very ecstatic when you wanted them to visit for a few days during the summer.

• When you both arrived at the airport to pick them up, Joel wanted to hit his head against a brick wall when he saw a group consisting of eleven people walking down the escalators yelling your name excitedly,

“Ya never told me how big your family was” He mumbled into your ear, keeping a fake smile on his face. You turned around and slapped him in the stomach. He grunted and rubbed the spot,

“Quit that complaining! They haven’t seen me in forever” You whispered harshly, plastering a fake smile as well while keeping eye contact with your family,

“I cant wait to spend a week with you, muffin!” Your grandma squealed, pulling you into a tight hug. Joel’s eyes practically bulged out of his head,

“A week?!”

• It was no lie that you were a gorgeous woman. Men always did a double take when you passed by, and women found them selves staring you down with envy.

• So, when you decided to throw a barbecue for the Fourth of July for the neighbourhood, people all showed up, curious as to how Joel’s young, new wife was gonna be able to plan a barbecue on her own.

• Most people were probably gonna show up, the intimidating older women to critic your decorations, food, and your so called ‘inappropriate clothing’ that they had been gossiping about since you moved in with Joel and Sarah,

“Hm, really outdid yourself, y/n. Wasn’t expecting…this” Edith, an older woman who has been living on the same street as Joel for many years, said passive aggressively.

With your head held high and a confident smile on your face, you nodded and rubbed her shoulder,

“Aw! Thanks, Edith. Wish I could say the same for your barbecues” Edith stared at you with her mouth agape.

Maria, who was sipping wine and watching the scene unfold, covered her mouth in hopes to hide the cackle that was about to escape her mouth. She gave you a thumbs up and mouthed “solid”

• The men there, married or not, found any chance to try and talk to you, surrounding you like you were a celebrity,

“Beautiful dress, y/n” Johnny, a friend of Tommy’s said, slyly rubbing a hand on your waist. You smiled and stepped back to show it off to everyone, oblivious to the men’s flirting,

“Thanks! Joel bought me it!” The men grumbled, and Johnny pursed his lips,

“Right, your with Joel”

• It didn’t stop at Tommy and Maria’s son’s 5th birthday.

• Kids were screaming and running around, which meant that there were their fathers around as well.

• The bouncy house was empty, and you were two glasses deep into wine, so you took your heels off and crawled in to jump around while the kids were out to go have lunch.

• The fathers gathered around the bouncy house and were watching you with smirks, and Joel came running to push past the men to see who they were watching,

“Jesus Christ” Joel grumbled, watching as you jumped around, your revealing dress showing your “greatest assets” bouncing up and down,

“Joel, look! I’m jumping so high!” You screeched, a big smile on your face, innocent to the men who were undressing you with their eyes,

“Yeah, I see that! Now get out” He looked around and saw all the men with their smug, smirking faces,

“Really, guys?! Your family men. Come on, now. Walk away!” Joel yelled, shaking his head and pointing them to the snack table. The men all scoffed and grumbled, reluctantly turning away from the sight of you.

• Tommy was no better.

• He was so obvious with his flirting, it made Maria and Joel side eye each other every time,

“Uncle Tommy and Maria are here!” Sarah called from the front door. You squealed in happiness, taking the turkey out from the stove with a little dance. Joel chuckled and placed a kiss on your cheek,

“We saw them this morning at the grocery store, sweetheart” You rolled your eyes and playfully slapped his shoulder,

“So? It was only for a couple of minutes! C’mon, let’s go say hi”

You gave Maria a hug and kiss on the cheek, as well as her adorable son. You passed to Tommy and did the same, and said,

“Two times today, huh?” You joked, referring to the earlier surprised meet up at the store. Tommy raised an eyebrow and confusingly grinned,

“Oh, okay!” He went to give you another hug and kiss on the cheek, but you had already turned around to go back to the kitchen, and Maria grabbed his arm and yanked him back,

“She meant we saw them two times today, Tommy” she warned, glaring at him.

• Yeah, you were a lot.

• But, Joel still loves you.

• He loves your crazy big family, your revealing outfits, your confidence, your expressiveness, your need to help and care for everyone around you, and how amazing you were with his baby girl, Sarah, providing her with the motherly love she was missing out on.

• The thing he loved the most was how you were with him.

• You were changing him in a good way, You were teaching him to open up, to do things out of his comfort zone, not always make everything be his way or the highway, and you put him in his place and called him out when necessary.

• You take care of him, he takes care of you.

• Joel sat on his front porch, plucking away at his guitar, occasionally sipping his beer and watching the sunset,

“It can’t get any better than this” He said to himself in his head, sighing contently, strumming away at his six-string,

“Joel, baby! Come join me upstairs! I’m wearing your favourite matching set…” You called from the open window, a seductive and playful tone in your voice.

Joel grinned then smirked, running a hand across his greying beard,

“It definitely can get better this”

[glossgojo]

he looks like he works with his hands (part 1/2)

pre-outbreak!joel miller x reader | 4.6k words

cw: 18+ MINORS DNI, AFAB reader, , age gap, ex-babysitter reader, oral fem-receiving, pussy drunk joel, manhandling, abusive ex-boyfriend, some violence, protective joel, panic attack, anxiety

a/n: alright listen up, i seem to have a thing for joel giving y/n head first and then getting his fill, that being said expect a very detailed part two :) this first part is mostly plot and some smut, i plan on making this a two parter but it might be longer

“jesus christ almighty” joel muttered under his breath taking in your frame from where he stood leaned against his truck. he knew you were coming to visit, sarah had screamed when you called and nearly given him a heart attack. you were back in austin for grad school, the sweet girl you were you visited sarah as soon as you moved in. you had babysat sarah the summer after you graduated high school and one summer of freshman year, but then your parents moved near your out-of-state college and you never came back. and now you here you were torturing every breath exhaling out of joel’s lungs.

you were dawned in a denim mini skirt and a tight short-sleeved top that fell a bit short of the suggestion of fabric. your midriff was exposed slightly, showing off your honey smooth skin and your legs on display. it would’ve been completely suited for the scorching texas heat, but joel felt his head swim as the clothes clung to your curves and your face lit up after recognizing him.

“joel! you haven’t changed a bit!” your cheeks flushed as you bounded your way up the driveway. joel had to clench his teeth to stop from looking at the bounce that wasn’t just in your step.

“that a good thing I hope? you look well kid.” joel didn’t know why he added that last part, maybe it was a silent reminder to himself that the last time he’d seen you you were just a kid, and whatever he was feeling had to go. he didn’t notice the way your expression dropped a little at the word, you quickly disguised it with a teasing smile.

“thanks and yeah don’t worry sarah keeps you young, well as young as you could be.” you nudged him, moving towards the front door as he huffed out a laugh and you hated the butterflies that followed. you’d been a little bit in love with the man ever since that summer. god you had missed his voice, rough and deep and somehow still filled with all the confidence you wish you had. joel watched you walk to the front door like you were visiting a friend’s place and he had to admit he liked the notion.

joel followed you close behind as he picked out his belongings from his truck. sarah ran down the stairs and you laughed a little bit as she jumped into your arms. joel had to laugh at the theatrics, if he had known better it looked like you were visiting between deployments. “you’re so pretty, how did you get prettier?” sarah rushed out, excited and barely breathing as she spoke. joel couldn’t help but smile when his sweet daughter looked so excited.

“well, i don’t know about all that. i was gonna say the same to you, you grew up into a beautiful young lady. my little sarah’s all grown up.” you brushed a piece of her hair back, just like you remembered she liked it. joel felt his heart warm a little at that, even if it had been years since he’d seen you, you still cared for sarah just as much and that mattered to him. maybe you weren’t the stranger he thought you were. you and sarah caught up in the living room, joel sat and listened interjecting every now and then with questions of his own. you liked the feeling of being with them. you were across the country from your family now, so this semblance of family was all you could cling to. you blushed at the thought that made you could raise sarah like a daughter.

joel had trouble focusing when you shifted in your seat, your mini skirt not doing well to hide the maddening baby pink panties you had on. he was sure he was red, but he could explain that away by heat or a tan if he needed to. you weren’t any better, losing your focus when you saw him cross his muscular arms.

“do you wanna stay for dinner?” sarah asked and your face pouted a little as you braced yourself to disappoint the girl. her big brown eyes clung onto every word you said when you spoke next.

“i really would love to and thank you so much for the offer sarah-bear, but my highschool friends roped me into drinks with them at 9.”

“have dinner first, you shouldn’t drink on an empty stomach.” he said it like it was a command less than a question, his voice gruff and your mouth dried up as you nodded obediently.

joel had asked tommy to pick up food on his way over, you hadn’t realized that since it was friday night you would be interrupting their family night. when you asked joel if it was fine for you to stay he leveled you with a pointed look, “don’t be ridiculous doll.” and you shut well up at that. doll. it wasn’t quite what you needed but it wasn’t kid. doll you could work with. doll would creep its way into your dreams and the hours before sleep when your core burned from need, from a hunger for him.

with that you sat down and chatted with tommy and he was just the same, hotheaded but kindhearted over everything. he spoke it like he saw it and tommy got kicked in shin by his dear big brother when he took one look at you and said “dam-“ you couldn’t even hide your expression in time, making joel snicker.

dinner felt normal, as if you hadn’t stepped through the door after 4 years. tommy had gone through some girlfriends while joel had remained single. you would hold onto that fact like the last hope for your sanity. sarah was in middle school now, she had troubles of her own. you listened to her gossip like it was your own, interjecting with your own advice, and joel couldn’t understand how you were so enraptured by it. maybe there were some things he just couldn’t help sarah with.

after what felt like far too short of a dinner, you had to make your way to the pub. you helped clean up with joel while tommy and sarah sat in the living room.

“do you need a ride?” you rotated the thought in your mind, you being stuck with joel in a small space. you’d rather not, after all your roommate promised that you had a ride home.

“i was just gonna drive over and my friend is picking us all up after.”

“alright take my number just in case.” you flushed at his words, he kept demanding you do this and that and because you were fucking gone for him you listened. it was his voice you told yourself, not his heady musk or his big brown eyes staring you down. you let him write his number down on a piece of paper and you nodded with a meek thanks as you took it from him. his hand brushed against yours it was so much larger than yours, they had calluses and scrapes on them. you had always admired joel for his work, and his hands showed exactly how hard he worked for his daughter. you’d thought about his hands more often than you’d admit over the years.

you gathered your belongings from where they were strewn about over the couch, joel had to hold back a groan as you bent over a little too much for his sanity. you said goodbye to tommy and hugged sarah telling her you’d be over more often since she wasn’t far now. joel considered asking you to babysit again but he didn’t want to detract from your studies. if you offered he wouldn’t turn it down. sarah was adamant she didn’t need one but he’d rather you look after her than his well-intentioned bible-thumping neighbors.

joel felt like he’d already crossed the line of friendly employer or even anything you two had before so he had to stop himself from insisting you take one of his jackets to wear out. it wouldn’t get cold but you’d be drunk and probably chillier than you realized, not to mention a small part of him wanted you to cover up when you went out. joel very pointedly ignored that incessant primitive part of his mind.

he did however watch until you got into the car and drove away, as if something would happen to you between the short walk over. your heart was beating as you left the miller’s house. you would have to shake joel’s scent and gruff voice out of your senses, you could feel them seeping into your bones making your head dizzy.

you needed to drink.

catching up with your high school friends was the distraction you needed. you had been in contact with them through the years but there was nothing close to being in front of them. hours ebbed and flowed as you drank and chatted. you felt a buzz but you weren’t drunk, your lips were loose as you told them how your high school crush had returned with more force than ever.

the drinks weren’t enough to dissuade the panic that dripped down from your head as your eyes landed on a familiar figure entering the bar. your ex-boyfriend had just walked in and your body went into flight or fight. your friends noticed your gaze and groaned as they took in your issue. your friend was speaking, their words far away and faded, only when they shook your arm did you hear them, “y/n are you okay, we can leave?” you didn’t want your friends to end their reunion because of you, if he approached you, you would just leave by yourself.

“i’m fine, hopefully he doesn’t recognize me.” you doubted it very much, he had tormented you for two years and took any chance to continue after you broke up. despite your anxiety being spiked you managed to make conversation with your friends, speaking quietly so as to not bring attention to yourself. it all became too much when you flinched when he looked in your direction. you were feeling more anxious than ever, excusing yourself to the bathroom to collect yourself.

as you walked away you broke into a run, scared that he would see you and follow you. instead of feeling better you felt anxiety wrack your body as you practically slammed into the bathroom. all your memories of your relationship flooded into your mind as you entered a stall and felt your breathing stop and your head rush as your vision blurred. you were having a panic attack and your heart was beating irregularly, were you dying? oh god, your hands shook as you pulled out the piece of paper joel had handed you earlier and your cell phone and typed in the number without thinking. it was now 11:30pm, joel was probably asleep. you couldn’t stop yourself as your shaking fingers pressed call

two dials later and the call connected, “joel i’m sorry for bothering you but could you pick me up.” you rushed out, your breathing labored as you struggled to calm yourself down.

“hey sweetheart, calm down, where are you? i’m coming over.” you felt tears prick your eyes as you tried to listen to his soothing cadence and his assured words. sweetheart. you were joel miller’s sweetheart, you could get through this.

“i-i’m at Donn’s, my ex is here im in the bathroom right now.” your voice sounded weak, you sounded like a scared little kid and it made you cringe, meanwhile joel was feeling anger rise at your statement. he had remembered how awful the kid was, he’d kept his thoughts to himself but when you eventually broke up everyone was happy about it. he was already out the door when you spoke, now he’d be speeding.

“i’m on the way, stay on the phone, what did you have to drink?” you wiped your stray tears as you felt your anxiety subside, joel’s voice and the distance you had put between your ex and yourself, grounding you. you babbled to joel, every now and then he’d throw in a follow-up question or a hum of acknowledgment, it all felt so normal you ached to talk to him like this more often. joel was calming you down, keeping you distracted, he was the only thing keeping you from another panic attack and you almost sobbed at that over the phone.

“hey joel?”

“yeah doll?” a shiver traveled down your spine at the pet name. you were so gone for him.

“thank you for this, i owe you.”

“you don’t owe me anything, i’d do it again.” you don’t know if that was joel’s southern hospitality or if he really meant it, either way you’d let that statement soothe you.

“i’m almost there, just pulling into the parking lot, take your time coming out alright, i’ll meet you inside?” you could hear him pulling into the parking lot rather quickly, you exhaled slowly as you told him you were coming and exited the stall. you quickly made your way to your friends, telling them you weren’t feeling well and that you would be heading home early. you told them that joel was picking you and you would’ve laughed at their reaction if not for the anxiety crawling back up your spine.

you waved them goodbye moving towards the door when your vision was blocked, you looked up to meet the eyes of your ex. your stomach dropped as your mouth went dry and you opened to speak, to try and get away but you were frozen in place. “hey babe, you miss me?”

“i’m not your babe.” you gritted out, trying to move past him when he raised an arm across your middle and you felt like throwing up.

“come on you’re still mad? i was just a kid.” anger bubbled up in your throat and your eyes stinged from frustration.

“get away from me.” you hated his touch, you wanted to scrub your body and push away the memories it brought back.

“such a fucking bitch, you still think you’re too good for me huh? you’re still as busted and arrogant as ever.” your vision was blurring and you couldn’t breathe, you looked down to your feet wishing that you could be anywhere but here.

“y/n.” joel’s voice brought you back to reality, you looked up, looking over your ex’s shoulder to see joel. he took one look at your watery eyes and crushed expression and saw red. your ex turned to meet joel’s glare.

“who the fuck is this?” you didn’t speak, your voice was caught in your throat but you took his distraction as a chance to move away. you quickly moved around him, standing next to joel as your ex turned towards both of you.

“let’s go.” joel ignored him, looking at you and trying not to break the fucker’s jaw. you could see joel was seething, his chest rising and falling and his brows furrowed in anger. you’d never seen him so upset, and you knew it wasn’t pointed at you because his eyes softened when they met yours.

“hold on pal i’m talking to you, you fucking her? she’s a slut don’t waste your time.” your ex put a hand on joel’s shoulder, trying to charm him and joel took one look at the guy before landing his fist square in his jaw. your ex dropped in a blink of your eye and you gasped as joel ground out a threat.

“don’t talk to her ever again, you hear?” your ex nodded furiously from where he lay on the ground, rushing out a yes in between a string of curses. you let joel pull you away, your ex crying out and wailing in pain as you left. you couldn’t think as you followed joel, his hand on yours. it enclosed yours fully, rough and warm around your hand and you let it distract you.

joel miller had just punched your ex and rescued you, you couldn’t think straight blinded by one thought and one thought only. you just wanted to-your hands found his face as you stopped in front of the passenger door, you moved quickly as you pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. joel’s expression changed from anger to confusion and then something else you couldn’t place in the streetlight lit parking lot. and then you felt panic as he didn’t look particularly happy with your actions.

“i’m sorry we can forget-“ you leaned against the closed door, removing your hands and creating some distance for him.

“no darlin’ don’t apologize, just wondering if you’ll remember this tomorrow.” joel could taste whiskey on your lips, he wasn’t sure he could live with himself if he took advantage of you being drunk.

“joel, i’ve never felt more sober.”

“good.” he took the hand that had been holding yours, the one that didn’t touch your ex and tilted your chin up, and your eyes met his. they were looked like honey and you wanted to swim in them. joel leaned his head, brushing his lips against yours and you could feel his facial hair scrape against your soft skin. it lit a fire within you. your arms came up around his neck, his hand moving to the small of your back, deliciously pulling you closer and you gasped into his mouth. joel tasted like heaven, just his breath alone was making you dizzy as you let him explore your mouth and make your lips mold to his. despite his intimidating exterior, joel kissed you like you were the only person on earth, taking his time to draw gasps from you and when his mouth moved off yours to dip under your jaw you lost your mind. your hands came up to press his head into the space between your head and your chest, as he littered your skins with kisses and nips. you whined out his name, your legs shaking as you raked your hands through his hair, probably leaving it as a mess. you opened your eyes to take him in, his lips puffy and his hair a mess, his breathing was as hard as yours and his big brown eyes had darkened.

“joel, please.” your hands were still in his hair, as you whispered into the fraction between your lips between sloppy kisses.

“please what doll?” did you have to say it? joel could read your mind, your thoughts written on your face from your cloudy eyes to your parted puffy lips. you looked wrecked and all he had done was kiss you. joel didn’t think he could hold back much longer, but he wanted you to be sure. you shivered as he leaned back, his warmth leaving you and his piercing gaze making you squirm. you managed to cough up the courage to speak next.

“come back to my place, my roommate is at her boyfriend’s place.” joel’s eyes flashed with desire, his hand shooting out to your hip, grazing the exposed patch of skin above your skirt and opening the passenger door. you shivered against at the feel of his hand against you, god you were pathetic but at least you could blame it on the slight chill of the night.

“get in.” you didn’t think twice as you turned to get in, joel holding the door open for you and feeling his sanity crumble when your damn skirt hiked up again. when joel got into the car you began to take in everything that happened.

“is your hand okay?” he’d been carefully keeping it away from you and when he was driving. it didn’t look broken under the city lights but you could bet it hurt.

“yeah it’s fine don’t worry.” he showed you to prove his point, besides some bruises on his knuckles, his hand did look fine.

“you, uhm thank you.” you couldn’t articulate just how much it all meant to you and you didn’t know how to start thanking him for every single thing he did. joel nodded at your words, not really thinking he needed to be thanked.

“if he ever comes near your again, or if anyone talks to you like that, you come to me alright?” you swallowed down, meeting his gaze at the red light. you felt heat travel south, the prospect of joel being there for you if anyone disrespected you made you clench your legs together. pressure building in your core, joel had to hold back a smirk as he watched you squirm in the seat.

“yeah i will.” your voice sounded breathy, your heart was beating so fast in your chest you wanted the car ride to be over so you could feel his lips against yours again. you needed him so badly your hands itched to find home in his hair again.

the rest of the car ride was silent, only interrupted by you giving him directions to get to your apartment.

you made your way to the apartment with joel following you closely behind, his eyes not moving from the view of your curves. you unlocked your door, throwing your pursed on your couch and turning towards joel, he took in your place. there were unopened boxes strewn about and minimal furtiniture but the place was plenty big for two students.

“can i get you something to drink?” you stood against the back of your sofa, looking at joel when he met your gaze. his stepped towards you, hands finding purchase on your hips, his thumbs grazed your skin and you felt dizzy looking into his eyes.

“just you.” confusion flashed on your face replaced quickly by awe as joel sank to his knees in front of you, looking up at you for any sign of disapproval. you nod, in a daze, joel presses kisses up your legs as you lean back on the sofa for support, your legs feeling weak at the sight of him kneeling in front of you. you couldn’t believe this was happening.

joel’s face was at the height of your pussy, his hands on your hips to pull down your skirt, and you whined at the feeling of his hands on you, moving you to his will. you'd fantasized about the rough pads of his fingers against your clit, scraping against you relentlessly until you unfolded for him. joel pulled them down in one swift motion and was met with the sight of your infuriating hot pink panties. “fucking hell these have been torturing me all day.” you found your voice moments later as you processed what he said.

“you like them?” his fingers traced the edges so gently, punctuating your sentence with a snap of the waistband against your hip, you gaspedz

“like isn’t the word i’d use but they definitely made an impact,”

“i wore them for you.” you were barely processing your thoughts before they were spilling out of your mouth.

“yeah? you’re flattering me sweetheart.” joel’s fingers ghosted over your pussy making you twitch under his barely there touch.

“no i mean it, i’ve wanted you ever since i’ve known you.” you were leaning into his touch, preening at the small contact, joel’s lips twitched at your desperation.

“god amn’t i too old for you?,” joel wanted so badly not to think that what he was doing was wrong, but when you looked at him like that he couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty. you should’ve been with someone your own age.

“joel please, you're the hottest man i’ve ever known.”

“such a sweet talker baby, that’ll get you places.” your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he kissed your clit over your underwear, you clenched on air when he called you baby. if he didn’t touch you, you might just come in your underwear.

“i hope s-so, oh god.” you whined out as he stuck his tongue out dampening the spot where your clit was, the pressure of his tongue on your clit even over the fabric made you moan. you felt like crying from his teasing, it was becoming too much for you. and joel sensed it as he pulled your underwear down on one swift moment, leaving you bare centimeters from his face.

“so pretty, angel.” you whined out, your hand coming down to intertwine in his brown curls, trying to ground yourself. joel tapped the inside of your knee, silently asking you to widen your stance while the other hand, the one he had just used to punch your ex clasped around the back of your other knee and lifted it over his left shoulder. you gasped at the spread, at the feeling of being so exposed for him but joel didn’t give you a chance to think too hard about it. his mouth pressed against your clit and you gasped at his mustache grazing your sensitive skin. on top of the maddening desire you had for him he was scratching against you, adding to your craze.

joel sucked on your clit, his tongue circling and stroking you until you cried out his name, he wasn’t letting you off so easily as his mouth moved south. his tongue licked up your folds, his mouth collecting all the arousal that threatened to drip for you. as if he was a dehydrated and starved man, joel moved impossibly closer pushing you against the back of the couch until it dug into your back and drank you in like it was all he had. his tongue lapping you up and delving into you for more, you kept giving him more and more and joel didn’t think he could ever have enough. you tasted so damn good, he’d remember your taste for days, for years, he’d let it haunt him as long as he could. your eyes rolled to the back of your head when joel decided it wasn’t enough, his other hand coming to raise your other leg onto your shoulder, his head now crushed between your thighs. your arms shook as you kept yourself hoisted up on the back of your couch. joel didn’t care, he wanted to drown on your ichor, he’d let you suffocate him if it meant he could continue tasting you. the desperation in his actions and his relentless mouth on you made you cum, your arms burned as they held you up and you tried not to squeeze joel between your thighs but you couldn’t help it. joel removed one of your thighs from his shoulder, watching you shake from the overstimulation as he lapped up your come.

“you taste like heaven darlin’” you couldn’t form a sentence you only whined out his name as you took in his slickness jaw and glistening facial hair. you were all over his face and you felt like crying. you removed your other leg and tugged at his shoulder for him to stand, joel used the back of the sofa to help him stand, crowding you against it. you looked at him desperately, you didn’t want this to end, you could feel his hard-on press against you. but you couldn’t think. joel was looking at you like you were god’s single most beautiful creation.

“are you gonna let me fuck you pretty girl?” his drawl made his words come out slurred as he whispered them in the space you shared between your mouths, he sounded drunk and you could smell your cum on his breath. you nodded furiously, your eyes wide and joel felt like you were the most willing prey and he was a predator. he couldn’t find it in himself to care, lifting you by the back of your knees and letting you point him to your bedroom.

NEXT PART ->

[proxima-writes]

the right wrong number

pairing: pre/no outbreak!joel miller x soccer coach!female reader

rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)

word count: 6k

summary:

When Joel receives a dirty text from an unknown number, he gives into his curiosity and messages back.

He doesn’t expect the number to belong to his daughter’s summer camp soccer coach.

dear reader:

this work is a request and a birthday gift for my sweet baby @mydailyhyperfixations , who’s been one of my biggest supporters since i started posting my work on tumblr. ily, and i hope you love the fic! special thanks to @cutesyscreenname for helping me with some lil details to finish this surprise. support and mdni banners by @saradika

content warnings:

explicit sexual content (18+ MDNI), age difference (undefined, but references are made), pre/no outbreak!joel miller, identity porn, wrong number au, sexting, dom/sub dynamics, use of ‘sir’, pet names, praise, thigh riding, semi-public sexual activity, spanking, safe word discussion, dirty talk, p in v. let me know if i’ve missed any!

Unknown Number: I had a really good time at dinner tonight!

Joel stares at his phone in confusion. It’s past midnight and he’s been sitting on the couch nursing a beer and watching Indiana Jones. He’s been in the same spot since Sarah went to bed a couple hours ago. His phone beeps again.

Unknown Number: It’s too bad we didn’t have time to visit Noir.

Joel raises his eyebrows. Noir is a bar in downtown Austin known for its calendar of speciality kink events. He’s seen it come up in his Google searches of local bars and had considered going to an event or two but never worked up the courage. His kinks remain between him and his porn search history.

Unknown Number: Wanna see what you missed out on?

[Photo 01.jpg]

Curiosity gets the better of him and he clicks on the image attachment. He nearly drops his phone when a photo of a woman fills his screen, sweet curves hugged by black lace on white sheets. He should absolutely tell her that she has the wrong number. His fingers type across the screen.

Damn, seems a shame something that gorgeous is going to waste.

Unknown Number: Who says it has to go to waste?

Joel swallows nervously. He’s already hard in his jeans, cock pressing urgently against his pants. He palms himself, trying to collect his thoughts.

Unknown Number: I’m feeling a little needy over here.

[Photo 02.jpg]

Against his better judgment, Joel opens the second photo and has to bite back a groan at the image of the woman’s hand slipped beneath the waistband of the panties, fingers hidden from sight behind lace and silk.

You want me to tell you how to play with that pretty pussy?

Joel squeezes his eyes shut as he presses send. This is a colossally stupid idea. This is a stranger, and he’s not the intended recipient of these messages.

Unknown Number: I’d really like that, sir.

Fuck it, Joel thinks. In for a penny, in for a pound.

Start by circling those fingers over your clit. Nice and slow.

And when you feel like you could cum, I want you to go even slower.

Unknown Number: It’s too slow. I want more.

Be patient, baby. And aren’t you forgetting something?

Unknown Number: Sorry. I want more, SIR.

Joel presses a hand to the bulge in his jeans, the pressure offering little relief.

Now don’t start being a brat, sweetheart. You won’t like the result.

Unknown Number: Oh yeah? What would you even do?

I’d love nothing more than to bend you over the edge of the bed, ass ready to be spanked red.

Unknown Number: Fuck, that would feel so good. Bet your hands would feel amazing marking me up.

You still being a good girl and following my instructions?

Unknown Number: I think I forgot. Could you remind me, sir?

You’ll have to ask more nicely than that.

Unknown Number: Could you *please* remind me, sir?

Joel runs a hand over his beard before reaching for the forgotten beer on the coffee table and taking a swig.

You’re supposed to be teasing yourself for me. Nice and slow.

I want you to pinch your nipples until they’re nice and tight, too.

Unknown Number: Like this?

[Photo 03.jpg]

Joel bites his lip as he opens the third photo. You’ve got your bra pulled down to expose your nipples, hard and perfect and begging for his mouth. He unbuttons his jeans, tossing his phone on the couch only long enough to shimmy the denim down his thighs and free his leaking cock.

Just like that, baby. Such a good girl for me.

Unknown Number: Are you touching yourself, too, sir?

Of course I am, baby.

Unknown Number: Can I see, sir? Please?

Joel’s hand falters as alarm bells blare in his head. He should absolutely not open his camera. And he should definitely not find the perfect angle that doesn’t show his face. And he certainly should not grip his cock around the base, holding it steady as the shutter sounds and a new photo is saved to his camera roll.

No. He shouldn’t do any of that.

[Photo 04.jpg]

Unknown Number: God, your cock would feel so good in me right now.

Joel’s right hand moves at a steady pace up and down his length, left hand fumbling to type a reply.

Why don’t you fuck your little fingers and pretend it’s me, then?

Unknown Number: Won’t fill me up nearly as much, sir.

Be a good girl and follow my directions, baby.

Unknown Number: [Photo 05.jpg]

He opens the photo and his cock pulses in his fist. She has her underwear shoved to the side, two fingers plunged into her glistening pussy. His mind reels with an image of this faceless woman writhing on the bed reading his words, thinking about his cock stretching her open and he has to bite his lip to just keep the responding moan trapped in his throat.

Unknown Number: Can I cum, sir? Please?

Since you asked so nicely, yes. Make yourself cum for me, sweetheart.

Joel sets the phone aside on the couch, closing his eyes as he pumps himself with a tight fist while he imagines your desperate pussy clenching around your fingers. He cups his palm over the head of his cock as his release hits him like a freight train, hips flexing from the couch to chase the lingering sensations of ecstasy from his hand.

He stands, pulling his pants up without bothering to fasten them so that he can wash his hands in the kitchen sink. Guilt settles on his shoulders as he dries his hands with the dish towel while he stares at the couch where his phone is lit up with another message from a stranger he had no business seeing that much of.

He approaches the couch and sits with a sigh, running a hand over his face before picking his phone up to read her message:

Unknown Number: Easily my best orgasm. Hope it was for you, too. Don’t be a stranger xx

Feeling like an asshole, Joel deletes the thread and the wrong number for good, but it’s fine.

It’s not like he’ll ever meet her, anyways.

——————

You’re on the phone with your best friend, telling her about how the last guy you went out with about a week ago, a guy named Jeremy you met on a dating app, still hasn’t reached out to you again despite what you’d thought was a successful date.

“So he just never reached out to you after you sexted him all night?” She asks. “Men are so weird.”

You cradle the phone between your ear and shoulder as you zip up your duffel bag of equipment. It’s the beginning of June and the summer soccer intensive camp for junior league starts today. You’ve got a full registration for the girl’s 13-15 division and you’re excited to get back on the field and help these girls do their best in a sport you love.

“Nope. Maybe I came on too strong? I don’t know,” you reply.

“You did come strongly. At least, that’s what you told me,” she says with a laugh. “Well, that’s too bad. Maybe you’ll meet a hot dad coaching this year.”

You roll your eyes. “I’m not fucking someone’s dad.”

“Never say never, babe.”

“I gotta go find my damn cleats. I’ll talk to you later,” you tell her.

“Fine, I expect a full run down of every DILF you meet today.”

You hang up as she laughs, tossing your phone into your personal bag that you keep separate from the gear before you go in search of your cleats from your room.

——————

Joel and an over-excited Sarah sit in the parking lot of the soccer field that her summer camp is being conducted at, ridiculously early at Sarah’s insistence because she didn’t want to be late on the first day. They’re the only car in the parking lot so far, having apparently beat even the coach, and Joel sips at his travel mug of coffee in the hopes that it grants him energy.

Another car pulls up and parks beside his truck, loud music blaring from the open window. Sarah waves excitedly.

“That’s the coach,” she explains.

Joel watches you get out of your car and pop the trunk. You start pulling out bags of soccer balls and stacks of orange cones, bags of agility equipment and strength training aids. He opens the door to his truck and jogs over.

“Hey, you need any help with that?” He asks. You look over at him in surprise, eyes wide.

“Oh, uh, sure. That would be great,” you reply.

“I’m Joel Miller, and this is my daughter, Sarah,” he says, gesturing to the young girl. She gives a little wave and he extends a hand out to you.

You give him your name, shaking his outstretched hand. “Y’all are a little early,” you reply, hefting a bag over your shoulder.

“My dad’s always late but I didn’t want to be late for camp,” Sarah says. Joel narrows his eyes at her.

“Not a problem. You can help me set up the cones,” you tell her. His daughter gives you a bright smile and he almost forgives her for throwing him under the bus. “I’ll grab these two bags, you grab the cones, and Mr. Miller, could you grab the balls, please?”

Joel fights back his childish laughter at your request, grabbing the bags as instructed. “Just Joel, please.”

You smile at him and he feels a bit blindsided by how it makes his heart beat faster, his palms a little sweatier. You’re very pretty, fresh faced and ready for a day of work, wearing one of those quick dry workout shirts that clings to your curves and a pair of shorts that show off your strong legs. Some traitorous part of his brain wonders what it would feel like to have those legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer.

“Alright then, Just Joel. Let’s go.”

——————

“Thank you for the help,” you tell Sarah’s dad. You’re trying very hard not to let your eyes linger on the bulge of his biceps or the broad expanse of his back as he sets down the two bags of soccer balls and places his hands on his hips.

He’s a handsome man, older than you by at least a few years, with tan skin and dark hair and kind brown eyes that crinkle at the corners when he smiles at something Sarah says. His daughter has the same brown eyes and olive skin, her dark curly hair pulled into a bun.

Of course the first parent you meet this summer is a hot dad. It’s like you’ve spoken it into the universe.

“Not a problem. Glad I can be useful if I’m goin’ to be here this early,” he replies with a narrowed glance at Sarah, who is suddenly very interested in the stack of cones she carried to the field. “Anythin’ else you need me for?”

“Let me get you the game schedule and contact sheet.” You open your bag and pull out your folder of materials you like to give to parents, assembling a stack of papers for him. “On top you’ve got the emergency contacts sheet. Fill that out with your contact information and an alternate’s information, too, just in case I can’t reach you or someone else needs to pick Sarah up. You’ll want to have Sarah bring that back tomorrow.”

You flip the page. “The second page is just a welcome letter. It’s got my phone number on it, feel free to text or call if you have any questions or if Sarah can’t make it one day.”

“And then last we’ve got the camp schedule. The girls will have two tournament days where they’ll play against some nearby summer camp leagues. You can sign up to bring a snack by filling out the piece at the bottom. Do you have any questions?”

“I don’t suppose I do. You’re very organized,” he says, taking the packet from you. You can feel your cheeks heating.

“Thanks,” you murmur. “Well, I gotta finish setting up.”

“I won’t get in your way.” He calls out to Sarah and the young girl runs up to give him a hug goodbye. “Be good. I’ll see you later.”

——————

Joel Miller is the first at the field in the mornings helping you set up for the day and last parent to leave at pick-up, after he’s loaded your trunk up with the equipment, wiping the sweat from his brow as he grins at you.

His daughter is a great player, quick on her feet and smart as a whip, picking up the footwork skills you teach like they’re second nature. You’re telling Joel as much Friday afternoon in the second week of camp when Sarah bounds up and asks if you want to get ice cream with them.

“That’s a great idea, baby girl,” Joel says before you can decline. You blink at him and he gives you that lopsided grin that’s been giving you butterflies since the first day on the field. “But if you order mint chocolate chip, you’re buyin’ it yourself.”

“Good news, I’m a plain ol’ chocolate kinda gal,” you tell him with a laugh.

“Me, too!” Sarah says.

“I’ll follow you guys,” you suggest. Joel gives you a quick nod, herding Sarah into his truck and taking off toward town.

You follow them to a little ice cream parlor, the kind that sells old fashioned sundaes and thick milkshakes with red and white striped straws. You park beside them, watching as Sarah hops from the truck with a wide grin on her face and her dad comes around, slinging a strong arm over her shoulder and pulling her close. Your heart feels warm looking at them.

Once inside, Joel and Sarah end up ordering a sundae to split while you get a small cone of chocolate ice cream. You try to tell Joel not to pay for you, but he hits you with a look that has your mouth going dry, any argument disappearing as all your blood rushes south and makes you ache between your legs.

“I’ll go get us a table outside,” you offer, licking at your treat. You don’t miss the way Joel’s eyes track the path of your tongue.

You watch the busy foot traffic while you wait for the Millers to join you, the warm Texas air wrapped around you while you enjoy the slight breeze and your cold dessert.

A deep voice calls your name and you look around, finding a familiar face on the crowded sidewalk.

“Jeremy, hey. How are you?” You ask as the man approaches. It feels like forever ago that you went to dinner together and looking at him now you think he’s handsome but he doesn’t hold a candle to Joel.

“I’m good. Been busy. I gotta say, I was a little bummed I didn’t hear from you after our date. Thought we had a good time,” he says, running a hand through his hair.

“Didn’t…hear from me?” You ask nervously.

He tilts his head. “Yeah. Thought you said you would text me when you got home.”

“Uh…yeah. Sorry. I guess I just forgot.”

The bell dings above the door to the ice cream parlor, Joel and Sarah emerging with a sundae piled with whipped cream. Jeremy looks toward them, then back at you.

“I’m guessing another date is off the table?” He asks, slipping his hands into his pants pockets.

Joel looks between the two of you, brow furrowed as he sets the sundae on the metal table and Sarah takes a seat, digging in immediately.

“Jeremy, this is Joel and his daughter, Sarah. She’s in my soccer camp this summer. Joel, this is my friend Jeremy,” you introduce. Jeremy holds a hand out to Joel, who shakes it briefly, brows still pinched.

“I better get going. Nice seeing you, let me know if you want to get together again,” Jeremy says before turning to leave. When you glance at Joel, his shoulders are drawn up and jaw clenched tight as he stabs his spoon into his ice cream.

“What do you guys have planned this weekend?” You ask to break the silence. Sarah perks up and begins to tell you about how her Uncle Tommy, Joel’s brother, is taking her to a local carnival. You listen and nod along despite the fact that your thoughts are stuck on Jeremy’s words.

If it wasn’t Jeremy on the other end of your conversation that night…who was it?

——————

As the three of you walk back to your vehicles, Joel’s still thinking about that man who’d been talking to you at the ice cream shop and how it made his blood burn hot to hear him mention going on a date with you. His pulse pounded in his ears as he shook the guy’s hand, any information about the guy going right over his head. He didn’t even taste the ice cream or hear the conversation you and Sarah had about the weekend, lost in his thoughts about how between early mornings helping you prep for camp and late afternoons at pick up have all somehow allowed you to burrow into his heart.

A hand wraps around his bicep, halting him in his steps. He glances at your concerned face and suddenly all that tension leaves him in a rush. Sarah says her goodbye, hugging you around your waist before hopping into the truck, leaving the two of you alone.

“You okay?” You ask, taking a step closer.

“I’m great, sweetheart. Get home safe,” he says, eyes dipping briefly to your mouth. Your tongue pokes out, tracing your lower lip. He takes a step back before he’s tempted to lean in and chase the taste of chocolate and you.

“I’ll see you Monday?”

“Bright and early.”

——————

Sarah spikes a fever Sunday night and spends the night curled around the toilet while Joel coaxes some water into her and keeps her hair out of harm's way. When it seems that the worst of her nausea has passed, Joel leaves her to rest in her bed while he goes downstairs and grabs the contact list you’d given him at the beginning of camp.

He starts a text, letting you know that Sarah’s sick and won’t make it to camp, at least for today. When it’s sent, he heads back upstairs, armed with a sleeve of crackers to deliver to his daughter.

Maybe he can squeeze in a little bit of sleep for himself.

——————

Hey, it’s Joel. Sarah’s sick and won’t make it to camp today.

You stare at the text, mind reeling. Not because a parent is texting you, that’s pretty common and you hope Sarah is doing okay, but because you already have a thread with Joel.

One where you’d called him sir and told him his cock would feel so good inside of you because you’d thought you’d been texting Jeremy. Your cheeks feel so hot you worry spontaneous human combustion could actually be a thing.

What are you even supposed to do in this situation? Do you tell him about it?

Hey, Joel. No worries. Thanks for letting me know, hope she feels better soon. Oh, also, you’ve sent me a picture of your dick.

You delete the last line immediately, hitting your phone against your forehead like doing so might make your thoughts make sense.

Hey, Joel. No worries. Thanks for letting me know, hope she feels better soon. Any chance you can make good on that promise and bend me over the bed?

You delete the last line again with a groan.

Hey, Joel. No worries. Thanks for letting me know, hope she feels better soon. There’s something I want to talk to you about. Would you be able to meet with me after practice this week? Or sometime this weekend?

You hit send before you can back out, tossing your phone in your bag as you get ready to head out the door.

——————

Joel wakes later in the morning and reads your text message. His mind races with what you could want to talk to him about. Maybe you noticed how he reacted to your friend and wanted to tell him you’re uncomfortable? Or maybe something to do with Sarah?

Fuck, he thinks, scrubbing a hand over his face. He reads the message a few more times but it doesn’t reveal any additional clues. He types out a message, pressing send before he can overthink the contents.

She seems to be doing better. Should be back to camp tomorrow. I can meet you somewhere for dinner on Friday after camp? My treat.

——————

Joel’s text plays on a loop in your brain for the rest of the week. Unlike the previous weeks of camp, he and Sarah don’t show up early. In fact, he’s been dropping her off almost at the last minute and picking her up promptly when camp ends, always managing to show up when you’re already pulled into conversation with another parent and driving off before you have a chance to talk with him.

On Friday, Joel is at the field early, leaning against his truck as he talks to Sarah. You park beside them, and he helps you unload your car and set up for the day, just as he had the weeks prior, making small talk like he hadn’t just spent the week dodging you after suggesting dinner. When everything is unpacked and Sarah is kicking a ball around, you follow Joel to his truck under the guise of needing one more thing from your car.

“Hey, are we still on for dinner?” You ask him. He runs a hand through his hair and you try not to let yourself zero in on the way his bicep flexes with the motion.

“‘Course. How ‘bout I meet you at that diner downtown? The one with the—“

“All day breakfast?” You finish. Joel grins.

“Yeah, that’s the one. Is six good?”

“Six is great.” You smile back at him, lost in the way his eyes crinkle in the corners and his mouth lifts slightly higher on the right.

“Coach!” Sarah yells, making you jump.

“Guess I better get out there,” you say, shifting nervously.

“Yeah, I’ll uh…I’ll see you later?” He asks.

“Looking forward to it.”

——————

To your surprise, it’s not Joel that picks up Sarah that afternoon, but another man with familiar brown eyes and dark curly hair. You grab your folder from your bag as Sarah greets the man, flipping through the pages until you’ve found her emergency contact form.

“Hey there,” the man says, a grin lighting up his face. “I’m Sarah’s Uncle Tommy.”

You shake the hand he’s held out towards you and introduce yourself. “Nice to meet you. Mind if I check your ID for alternate pick up?”

“Go right ahead,” he replies, pulling a worn brown leather wallet from his jeans and handing you his ID from its contents. “Don’t judge the photo, alright? It’s old.”

A younger version of the man in front of you is pictured on the card, his curly dark hair buzzed short and a grim expression on his face. You note the name THOMAS MILLER beside the picture and check it against Sarah’s emergency contact form.

“Thanks, Tommy,” you tell him, handing back the ID. There’s a brief silence where Tommy seems to be assessing you.

“So…,” he says, rocking on his heels, “you’re the girl that’s got Joel all tangled up, huh?”

You blink. “Uh—“

“Uncle Tommy! Let’s go!” Sarah shouts from the parking lot.

“Hold your horses!” Tommy yells. He gives you one last knowing smirk. “Have fun with Joel tonight!”

You watch him jog over to the truck and get behind the wheel, Sarah waving at you as he pulls out of the parking spot. You wave back, but your mind is stuck on Tommy’s words, the implication of them having your stomach doing backflips.

——————

Joel’s fingers fidget with the straw wrapper, ripping it into small pieces that build in a pile on the laminate table while he waits for you to arrive for dinner. He’s still not sure what this is all about and that uncertainty has had him stuck in his head to the point where Tommy was giving him a hard time at work about it.

“Let me know if you need me to stay with Sarah overnight,” Tommy had said as Joel checked himself in the hall mirror one last time before leaving the house.

“It ain’t like that,” he grumbled back, but there was no changing his brother’s mind.

“Sure, you keep tellin’ yourself that.”

The bell above the diner door rings with a new customer, pulling Joel from his thoughts. You’ve just walked in wearing a dress, a far cry from the soccer shorts and t-shirt he’s seen you in every day this summer. His gaze is pulled to the tantalizing glimpse of your chest he gets from the deep neckline and the way the fabric swishes against your thighs as you approach.

“Hi,” you say, sliding into the booth across from him. “Thanks for meeting me.”

“Sure,” Joel says, giving you what he hopes is a confident smile but he’s almost certain it’s more of a grimace.

A silence settles over the table as you both look at the laminated menus like they hold the secret to the universe. The waitress swings by and takes your orders - chocolate chip waffles for you and a medium rare burger for Joel.

“How’s Sarah doing with the camp?” Joel asks.

“She’s doing great. Easily one of the best players I’ve got this year,” you reply.

“Good that’s…good. You used to play for UT, right?”

“Yep, starting forward until I tore my ACL,” you tell him. “Now I coach because you can take the girl out of soccer but you can’t take the soccer from the girl.”

“That’s impressive,” Joel comments. “Is coaching your full time job?”

“No, I work in marketing for an instrument production company.”

“Really? You play anything?”

“Some guitar, a little piano. Nothing crazy. Do you?”

Joel laughs. “Been a while, but I got a guitar stashed away in a closet somewhere.”

The waitress returns with your food, setting the plates in front of you and asking if either of you need anything else before leaving the two of you to your meals.

Joel is a few bites into his burger when you set your fork down and say, “Look, I’m just gonna come right out and say it. You’ve sent me a picture of your dick.”

Joel nearly chokes, sputtering for air around his burger and grabbing his Coke, desperate for relief. He chugs the beverage, tears in his eyes.

“Are you okay?” You ask, wide eyes full of concern.

“No, I’m not okay, what do you mean I’ve sent you a picture of my dick?” He hisses, looking around the mostly empty diner.

“About a month ago I went on a date with that guy I ran into at the ice cream place, Jeremy? We met on a dating app so we were messaging through there and he gave me his number at the end of the night,” you say quickly. “And I texted the number with some…racy photos. And messages.”

Joel feels the rising panic in his chest. No, there’s absolutely no way that random number could have been you. There’s no way he sexted his daughter’s soccer coach.

“I didn’t find out it was you until you texted me about Sarah being sick. I still had the chat with your number,” you finish, reaching into your bag and pulling out your phone. Joel watches with building dread as you tap on the screen and set the phone on the table, sliding it toward him.

You’ve opened the chat with him, the innocuous messages at the bottom about Sarah missing camp giving way to photo attachments he doesn’t dare click on but remembers vividly. He looks up at you.

“I…I’m so sorry,” he says. “I shouldn’t have replied, the messages weren’t meant for me.”

“I’m not mad,” you assure him. “A little embarrassed, maybe. But also…can I be completely honest?”

“Of course.”

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about your messages.”

Joel’s mouth drops open in surprise. “You…really?”

“Yeah. And knowing it’s you…,” you say, voice trailing off. Your eyes are dark, a little smirk playing on your lips that has Joel’s cock twitching with interest. “Well, that makes it better.”

“It does?” Joel asks. You nod, picking up a bite of waffle with your fork, a moan of appreciation leaving your lips.

“It does,” you confirm.

Joel turns around in the booth and flags down the waitress.

“Check, please!”

——————

After paying for dinner, Joel walks you to the parking lot, his broad palm on your low back directing you to where his truck is parked.

He’s got you pressed against the passenger door, his chest grazing yours with each breath he takes. He lifts a hand to your cheek, his thumb rubbing across your bottom lip. His gaze grows dark as you dart your tongue out, flicking it against the digit.

“Such a fuckin’ tease,” he says. Gone is the man who was mortified to find out he’d been sexting you and in his place is the man behind the screen. “You wore this little dress because you knew exactly what you wanted, isn’t that right?”

“Maybe,” you murmur. “You don’t like it?”

“Mm,” he hums, “Ain’t a matter of not likin’ it, trust me.”

His hands grip your hips, the fabric bunching in his fists as he moves a thigh between your legs. The sudden friction of his jeans, even through the barrier of your underwear, has you gasping.

“Joel,” you whimper, grinding over the muscle of his thigh. He kisses along the length of your neck, lips right over your racing pulse. “Come on, take me home.”

“You can ask more nicely than that,” he says, hands guiding the movement of your hips, forward and back, across his thigh. You moan, louder than you intended, too loud for the parking lot of a busy diner at dinner rush.

“Please, sir,” you whisper. “Please, take me home.”

“Cum on my thigh and we can leave,” he replies. “Leave a nice little wet spot on my jeans and then I’ll take you home and make you scream my name as loud as you need to.”

Joel’s lips capture your own, swallowing the curse that was ready to spill from them at his demand. His kiss is rough, demanding, his stubble scratching your skin and his tongue tangling with yours as your hips continue to rock over his leg. You dig your fingers into his hair, holding tightly to him while the knot of need in your belly tightens.

“Come on, baby,” he says when he lifts his head, lips still pressed to your neck. “Make a mess, come on.”

You go still in his hands as your orgasm washes over you, your muscles stiff as your pussy pulses desperately over his thigh. Joel pulls you in for another kiss, this one slow and sweet to bring you back to reality.

When you’ve caught your breath, he steps back, adjusting the skirt of your dress back over your thighs. He looks down at his pants and then back at you, a smirk on his handsome face. You look down, face heating with embarrassment as you notice the dark patch of denim.

“Get in the truck, baby.”

——————

You give Joel directions to your apartment, his warm hand on your thigh the whole way there. Your nerves are buzzing beneath your skin again, the effect of your first orgasm wearing off and your desire building rapidly with each mile closer to your apartment.

He parks in the visitor parking and you move to open the door, but a tan arm reaches across and tugs it shut. Confused, you watch Joel jump from the truck and jog around to the passenger side to pull open your door and hold a hand out to you.

You’re laughing as he helps you from the truck and shuts the door behind you, your giggles persisting as you lead him upstairs and his arms circle your waist while you try to unlock your door. He hustles you across the threshold, kicking the door shut behind him and flipping the deadbolt.

“Bedroom?” He asks.

“End of the hall,” you reply.

Joel pulls you along behind him, a man on a mission. Once inside your room, you flip on your bedside lamp and Joel steps in close, framing your face in his hands and giving you another kiss that has the butterflies in your tummy going wild.

His fingers are curling into the hem of your dress, dragging it up your body and breaking the kiss long enough to pull it over your head and toss it to the floor. His lips are back on yours while his hands map your curves, calloused fingers catching on soft skin and making goosebumps erupt in their wake.

“Get on the bed,” he commands. You turn, crawling onto the mattress slowly, a wiggle in your hips. You look over your shoulder at the older man and find his gaze fixed on your ass. He grins. “You remember what I said last time you teased me?”

“No. I think I need a reminder,” you tell him. He huffs, shaking his head.

“Teasin’ me and gettin’ mouthy? Think that might earn you a punishment.”

Joel palms the cheeks of your ass, pulling them apart in a rough grip that has you gasping his name. His fingers dig into the flesh, the ache of them already making your head spin.

“Five ain’t enough, but it’s all I’ve got the patience for right now,” he says. His tone changes as he asks, “You got a safe word? If I need to stop?”

“Apricots,” you say easily. He tilts his head. “It’s from a TV show. New Girl?”

“Never heard of it,” he says. “Alright, apricots it is.”

He pulls your panties down, leaving them around your thighs. His thumbs spread you apart and the vulnerability of this position, your ass in the air and everything spread for him, by him, has you feeling like you’re on fire.

“Pretty little pussy,” he murmurs. “But I already knew that. Because you’re a dirty fuckin’ girl who sent me pictures just because I told you how to cum. Ain’t that right?”

“Mhm.”

An open palm lands on your right ass cheek, hear blossoming on the spot as you gasp, lurching forward. His hands pull you towards him and he presses down between your shoulder blades, your back arching.

“Don’t move,” he commands. “That was one. You count the next one.”

Another smack across your other cheek, more sharp pain that shifts into dull ache as you mumble, “Two.”

He doles out two more in quick succession, each other making your pussy clench with need. You’re drooling into sheets, a whimpering mess as he runs his fingers through your soaked folds and lets out a deep groan.

“Baby, you’re soaked,” he says. “Fuck, one more, okay? One more and then I’ll have you wrapped around my cock.”

You nod your head, bracing for the final blow across your sensitive skin. The sting of his palm as it lands makes your eyes roll back, the line between pleasure and pain so blurry you don’t know which side you stand on.

His hands leave your hips and without the support, you slide flat to your belly. Distantly, you register the opening of your nightstand drawer and the sound of Joel rummaging through the contents, followed by the muted thump of clothes being discarded to the floor.

Joel maneuvers you to your back in the center of the bed, pulling your panties off. “You did so good, sweetheart,” he praises. You smile at him.

“Do I get a reward now, sir?” You ask.

“‘Course, baby. Good girls get what they deserve.”

His hips press between yours, his cock sliding through your wetness and catching on your clit. He positions the thick head at your slick entrance, pressing in the slightest bit. You take in the sight of him, his broad chest held over you by strong arms, the muscles of his neck tense.

Joel slides in slowly, your body accepting him gratefully. The stretch borders on painful but the fullness has you digging your nails into his back, a moan falling from your lips. It feels like ages before his hips as flush to yours and all you can feel is Joel Joel Joel.

“Fuck,” he groans, forehead dropping to yours. “Christ, you feel so fuckin’ good.”

He pulls back slightly, thrusting forward with a sharp snap of his hips. As he starts to set a rhythm, he sits up on his knees, lifting one of your legs up with a hand on the back of your thigh and pressing it to the side. The position opens you up further, letting him get impossibly deeper, and all you can do is allow him to use your body to his liking.

It’s not long before you’re screaming his name, as promised, the knot of pleasure in your core pulling tight and getting ready to snap.

“You gonna cum again for me?” Joel asks, breathing labored as his pace doesn’t falter. “Come on, baby, cum on my cock. You’re such a good fuckin’ girl, I know you can do it.”

“Joel!” You shout, that last thread snapping as your orgasm rushing through you, stars bursting behind your eyelids as they snap shut with the force of it all. Your pussy clenches around him, his hips stuttering and growing sloppy until he’s pressing in deep with a groan of your name.

He collapses on top of you, a heavy weight but not an unwelcome one as you both try to catch your breath, sweat cooling between you. After a moment, his softening cock slips from your body and he rolls to the side, gathering you to his chest.

“Holy shit,” you whisper.

“Yeah,” Joel whispers back. He sits up, leaning over the edge of the bed and grabbing his jeans, pulling his phone free.

He taps on the screen and brings it to his ear, a distant ringing audible through the speaker.

“Tommy? Yeah, everythin’s fine,” Joel says when his call connects. He takes a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Could you stay with Sarah tonight? Shut up,” he grumbles. He presses a kiss to the top of your head. “I’ll be back in the mornin’. Thanks, brother.”

Joel hangs up and you raise your eyebrows at him.

“You’re staying?” You ask.

“Yeah, baby. I ain’t finished with you yet,” he replies, pressing a flurry of kisses to your face, neck, and shoulders, sending you into a fit of giggles.

——————

1 Year Later

“Alright, great job, girls! Let’s get your snacks,” you shout as your summer league girls jog towards you from the field following their third tournament game.

The girls crowd around the cooler that Joel’s prepared, grabbing small bottles of Gatorade or water and a bag of orange slices. They lounge around the sidelines and you step up beside Joel, bumping him with your hip.

“Thanks for the snacks,” you say. He grins at you.

“‘Course. Gotta take care of my girls,” he replies. He pulls one last bag of oranges from the cooler. “And one for coach.”

“How’d I get so lucky?” You ask, looping an arm around his waist.

“What can I say? You texted the right wrong number.”

Joel Miller Masterlist

[joelsgreys]

what he didn’t do

Preoutbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

summary: You’re very recently divorced, but that doesn’t stop a certain handsome, brown-eyed neighbor from taking you out on a date.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. divorced reader, no massive age gap (no specific age is mentioned, but reader is in her early 30’s and Joel is 35) slow burn, 10 year crush kind of deal. reader talks about her past relationship. mentions of food and alcohol. soft, caring Joel. first date fluff.

word count: 5.1k

a/n: so um how are we all doing after today, we still alive out there? 👀 no one asked for this, this fic is purely self indulgent, my lonely single ass is convinced that pre out break Joel would be just the most amazing gentleman on a date, he would be so perfect and just take the best care of you and treat a girl right…so here is what i whipped up.

He’ll treat me right, put me first, be a man of his word

stay home ‘cause he wanted to

always fight for my love

hold on tight like it’s something that he can’t stand to lose

Joel wasn’t all too sure how it even happened.

Earlier that afternoon, he’d gone on over to your place to deliver a piece of mail that the postman had accidentally put in his mailbox instead of yours. While Joel was there, you’d kindly asked him if he could recommend a good plumber that you could call because you had a stubborn leak under the kitchen sink that you needed to get looked at sooner rather than later. Wanting to save you both the hassle and the expense of having to hire someone, Joel had told you to hang tight for a minute and rushed back over to his house, only to return with his yellow toolbox in hand so that he could fix it for you, which he’d done in fifteen minutes flat—and now, just a few hours later into the evening, he was getting himself ready to take you out to dinner. 

And the real fucking kicker of it all was that he had been the one to ask you out, proposing the offer while his head had been buried in the cabinet underneath your leaking kitchen sink. At least that way, if you had rejected him, you wouldn’t have been able to see the look of complete and utter embarrassment on his face. But much to Joel’s surprise, not to mention, his relief, you’d eagerly accepted the invitation and even suggested tonight would be the perfect night if he didn’t have prior plans or commitments.

Hell, even if Joel did have prior plans or commitments, he would have canceled them for you without a single ounce of hesitation.

He’d discovered he would do just about anything for you.

Joel shrugged into the light tan, button up shirt that Sarah had helped him pick out earlier just before he’d jumped in the shower. At thirteen, she lived with her nose buried in fashion magazines lately and she didn’t trust him to successfully choose a proper outfit for the occasion on his own without guidance. It had been well over a few years since Joel had been on a date, as she had so kindly pointed out to him while she’d rummaged around through his mess of a closet. Although he insisted that it wasn’t a date, his teenager had scoffed and called him out on his bullshit. “Well, what else do you do you call it when two single adults go out to dinner together alone?” Sarah had challenged him as she held up a couple of different shirts up against his chest, searching for the perfect one. “Especially when one of those two adults has had the most obvious crush on the other one for what, like ten freaking years now?”

“It wasn’t that obvious,” he’d muttered to her in response. Peering at her curiously, he couldn’t help himself as he had asked her, “Was it?”

“Dad, your crush on her has been about as subtle as a brick to the face.” Letting out a huge laugh, Sarah had shoved the shirt she’d selected into his hands and tossed the losers right back into his closet. “Here, wear this one with those dark jeans, the bootcut ones. Don’t roll up the sleeves like you always do. And for the love of all that is holy, at least make an attempt to run a comb through that hair of yours,” she’d advised on her way out the door, leaving him to it.

Joel sighed and buttoned up the shirt, then tugged on his dark blue jeans and a pair of black leather boots—the only pair he owned that weren’t totally worn down to the soles. He finished getting dressed and proceeded to roll up the long sleeves of his shirt up to the middle of his forearms, tucking in the cuffs as neatly as he could. He could already hear his daughter scolding him over it, but screw it, Joel wanted to be comfortable, especially now that warmer weather had arrived in Austin. 

After rubbing just the slightest hint of his favorite sandalwood cologne on his neck and on the insides of his wrists, Joel finally left his bedroom and made his way downstairs, trying his absolute hardest to pay no mind to the nerves that were threatening to creep up on him. He entered the living room where he found Tommy sitting on the couch with Sarah, a plastic blue bowl of popcorn nestled between the two of them. Sarah, who had been busy shuffling through a stack of movies in her lap, looked up when she heard him walk into the room and narrowed her green eyes at him. “Come on, man! What did I say earlier about the sleeves?”

“You told me not to roll ‘em up. But I chose not to listen to you,” Joel quipped, eliciting an annoyed sigh from her. 

Tommy smirked at him. “So motherfucker, you finally did it, huh? You finally asked her out on a date.” His smirk widened. “Only had to wait, what, about ten fuckin’ years?”

Joel glared at his younger brother. “How did you even—?” He stopped abruptly and his dark brown eyes flickered over to Sarah, who shot him a guilty smile from where she sat. “Really? You just had to tell him?”

“Sorry,” she apologized, sheepishly. “It slipped.”

“Damn, big brother. Y’know, word on the street is that she just signed the divorce papers at the courthouse earlier this week,” Tommy remarked, taking a swig from his bottle of Lone Star as he leaned back into the couch. “You’ve got some real big fuckin’ balls to ask a freshly divorced woman out on a date that quick. I’ve gotta admit that I’m actually pretty fuckin’ impressed with you, Joel. Didn’t think you’d have it in you.”

“It ain’t a date,” Joel muttered out the lie, picking up his keys from the coffee table. “We’re just goin’ out to dinner is all.”

“That’s a date,” Tommy and Sarah stated together in unison.

Joel let out a heavy sigh, deciding that it was better for him to ignore their antics rather than to play into them. “You.” He pointed an index finger at Sarah. “Might not be school night, but I don’t want you stayin’ up too late. And you.” He turned his attention to Tommy. “I don’t want you havin’ any of your little female friends over while I’m out tonight, especially not while Sarah is home. That understood?” 

“Yes dad,” both their voices chirped together once again. 

Rolling his eyes, Joel bid them a quick goodnight and left the house, making his way across the lawn and over to your place. You lived in the smaller, single story yellow house right next door to his.

You’d moved in next to Joel and Tommy several years ago—Sarah had still been a toddler then and he had just started getting used to life as a single father. Joel would never forget the first time that he laid his eyes on you. He had been in his driveway, taking a look under the hood of his old truck, a hunk of garbage Ford Ranger from the nineties that he’d finally gotten rid of a couple years back and replaced with a Chevrolet Silverado instead; it hadn’t been much of an upgrade, but at least it didn’t break down on him as often. Joel had noticed a moving van in the driveway of the house next door, but he hadn’t given it a second thought. He had been so engrossed in what he’d been doing, but at some point, he looked up from the engine and turned his head at the precise moment that you happened to walk by with a cardboard box in your arms. You’d caught his gaze and offered him what had to be the most beautiful smile he had ever seen in his entire fucking life. Joel had just set his wrench down and was about to head over to offer you some help when a man emerged from the back of the moving van with another box. He gave you a quick kiss on the cheek as he led the way into the house. 

Turns out, that man had been your husband.

To say Joel had been sorely disappointed by the fact that you were married had been an understatement to say the least.

It hadn’t taken all too long before Joel met his new neighbors, although he often saw more of you than he ever saw your husband—the man traveled across the country for business and he would be gone for several days, even several weeks at a time. You were a homemaker and to help make life a little less mundane, you’d started something of a daycare in your home, offering to help fellow neighbors who needed someone to watch their younger children during their nine to five work schedules.

When Joel found himself putting in a brutal number of hours in at his construction job, he had struggled to find someone who was willing to look after his then three year old for such extended periods of time. You’d happily volunteered to help him out and you would watch Sarah from sunrise to about sundown for him without a problem. When she started kindergarten two years later, you continued to help Joel out, going as far as taking her to school for him and then picking her up afterwards. You’d never had any children of your own, but you still had maternal instincts, and as Sarah grew up, whenever she would need a woman’s guidance, she would go straight to you without hesitation and you were always there for her no matter what, no questions asked. 

Joel couldn’t have been more grateful for you.

He’d seen and spoken to you just about every day for the last decade—he’d even go as far as saying that the two of you were good friends, though since day one, he found himself longing for a hell of a lot more than just your friendship. Joel had thought he would have to shove his true feelings for you down for the rest of his natural born life, that is, until several months ago when he’d noticed the moving truck parked in your driveway one late afternoon as he and Sarah came home from one of her soccer games. Nearly in tears, Sarah had immediately hopped out of the pickup before Joel could even cut the engine and ran over, demanding to know why you hadn’t told her that you were moving—that’s when you fessed up and explained to her that you weren’t going anywhere, but your husband was.

Through whispers in the neighborhood, Joel discovered that you had filed for divorce and although no one knew the exact reason why, many suspected it had been your husband’s constant traveling for work that had done it. Denise, the nosy blonde woman who lived across the street from him swore up and down that he must have had some kind of adulterous affair behind your back—Joel simply told her she needed to lay off her dramatic daytime soap operas. 

Regardless of the reason why, you were now officially single.

And Joel was taking you out to dinner.

Whether it was an actual date or not, that hadn’t exactly been established. 

He made it up the front porch and inhaled a deep breath, exhaling it slowly through his nose before he knocked on your front door. When you opened it just a few seconds later, all of the wind had been knocked out of his lungs by an invisible force.

You wore a sky blue sundress with a sweet, white floral pattern printed all over it. Thin straps tied together at your shoulders and the hem of the skirt fell right to the middle of your thighs revealing a lot more of your silky smooth legs than he had ever seen before. You’d kept your makeup fairly light, and your hair fell loosely and naturally around your shoulders. Joel noticed you wearing a silver necklace, a butterfly pendant hanging from the chain. He recognized it, because he’d bought it for you, although it was Sarah who had gotten all the credit. She had given it to you as a gift for your birthday that passed by a few months ago. 

“Hey!” You beamed at him. “You’re right on time.”

“Hey.” Joel swallowed dryly. “You look really beautiful.”

You smiled shyly. “Thank you. You don’t look so bad yourself,” You returned the compliment, admiring the way the sleeves of his shirt hugged his biceps. “I have to hand it to you, you definitely clean up well, Joel.”

“Next time that you see Sarah, you’d best thank her. She deserves the credit,” he stated, eliciting a small laugh from you. “Are you all ready to go?”

You nodded, grabbing your purse and keys from the small glass table beside the door. You stepped out onto the porch, closing the door behind you; after making sure that you’d locked it properly, you followed Joel across your front lawn and over towards his driveway. He led you to the passenger’s side of his dark blue Silverado and opened the door for you, holding his hand out to help you climb up into the seat. The gesture prompted you to shoot him a strange look.

He frowned a little. “What’s the matter?” 

“No, nothing,” You quickly assured him. You placed your hand in his larger one, the contact causing a jolt of electricity to shoot up the length of your spine. 

Joel helped you up into the truck and closed the door before making his way around the front of the vehicle and climbing into the driver’s seat. He shoved the key into the ignition and the pickup roared to life. He watched as you put on your seatbelt and then reached out, giving it a tug to make sure you were buckled in well enough. “Just makin’ sure you’re safe is all,” he uttered softly as you tossed him another puzzled glance. He reached over his shoulder for his own seatbelt and buckled it in before finally pulling out of the driveway. 

Out of his peripheral vision, Joel could see you wringing your hands together in your lap in something of an anxious manner—were you nervous?

In an effort to comfort you and ease the nerves, Joel reached out and turned up the volume of the radio. He normally kept it on his favorite country station and was just about to ask what station you preferred when you let out a tiny, excited gasp and turned to him, a radiant smile breaking out onto your face. 

“Oh, I love this song!” You told him, bringing your hands together in an enthusiastic clap. You then started singing along to the familiar lyrics. “Heads Carolina, tails California, somewhere greener, somewhere warmer, up in the mountains, down by the ocean—”

Joel turned briefly, raising an eyebrow at you. “Nineties country fan, huh?”

“Duh,” You replied playfully. “Nineties were and will probably always be the golden age of country.”

He grinned, turning his attention back onto the road. “I knew there was a reason I liked you.”

Biting back another smile at his words, you turned to look out of the window, nodding your head and tapping your foot along to the beat of the song as you watched the streets of Austin pass by in a blur of lights and people. 

Joel had chosen to take you to Antonio’s, a locally owned Italian place that was somewhere between casual and upscale dining. “Wait,” he told you, noticing you reaching for the door handle as soon as he’d parked in front of the restaurant. He jumped out of the driver’s seat and walked around, opening the door for you. Just like when he’d helped you into the truck back at his house, he offered you a hand to help you out of it. He kept his dark brown eyes on your feet, making sure you that didn’t fall or lose one of the brown sandals you were wearing. “Careful.”

“Thank you,” You said kindly to him as he closed the door behind you. Your breath hitched in your throat when you felt him place his hand on the small of your back as he ushered you inside of the restaurant where a hostess led you to a small, round table out in the back patio. You thanked her and reached for your chair, but Joel instantly stopped you.

“Let me,” he insisted, pulling it out for you. He helped you into the chair and noticed you give him another strange look, similar to the ones you’d given him when he’d helped you into the truck and when he’d checked your seatbelt. “Why do you keep lookin’ at me like that? Do I have somethin’ on my face or what?” He asked jokingly as he took his seat across from you. 

You hesitated, but then confessed, “I’ve never had someone pull my chair out for me. I’ve never had someone open the car door for me or make sure I’m wearing my seatbelt.” You offered him a small, sheepish smile. “You don’t know how nice that is, Joel.”

Joel stared at you in complete disbelief.

Before he could say anything, a younger waitress appeared at the table to take yours and his orders for beverages. “I’ll just have a cabernet, please,” You ordered, politely. Not wanting to be the asshole who ordered a beer at an Italian place, Joel asked her for a glass of red wine too. She returned moments later with the drinks and then offered to take your orders for food. Both you and Joel decided on a chicken penne pasta dish that looked absolutely delicious. As soon as the waitress took your menus and disappeared back inside, you looked up at Joel and noticed his eyes were fixed intently on you. You felt a slight heat flood your face. “What is it?”

“Nothin’,” he answered, shrugging his shoulders innocently. “You just look really beautiful, that’s all.”

“You said that already,” You reminded him, letting out a breathless little laugh.

“I know.” Joel picked up his glass of wine. He took a quick sip before adding, “But someone as pretty as you deserves to hear it over and over again.”

The night went by fast, much too fast.

One minute, you were both enjoying your dinner and digging into delicious pasta, and the next, the table had been cleared completely, and so had all the other tables surrounding you—you two were the very last patrons in the restaurant. You and Joel had been so lost in conversation that neither of you had realized it was almost eleven and the restaurant was about to close in five minutes. 

“We’ve been sitting here talking for three hours,” You gasped lightly.

Joel chuckled. “Time flies when you’re in great company.”

You looked the bill on the table, which the waitress had dropped off over an hour ago, and reached for it, but Joel was quick to snatch it away from you. 

You pinned him with a stern look. “Come on, Joel! You fixed my kitchen sink for free, paying for dinner is the least I could do—”

“A lady never pays on a date.”

Your lips parted slightly in pleasant surprise. “Oh. So this is a date?”

Joel laughed as dug his brown leather wallet out from the pocket of his jeans. “I mean, it doesn’t have to be a date if you don’t want it to be. But I still ain’t lettin’ you pay.”

“I do.” You told him softly after a minute. “I do want it to be a date,”

Joel’s eyes met yours across the table and he smiled, looking relieved. “Good. ‘Cause I would’ve been kinda crushed if you’d said otherwise.”

He dropped a couple of twenty dollar bills on the table and stood up. He noticed you about to do the same when he shot you a warning glare.

“Oh. Right.” You giggled and waited until he stood up and held his hand out to you, helping you out of your chair.

As the two made your way out of the restaurant and out to his truck, Joel didn’t let your hand go.

“Thank you again for inviting me out to dinner tonight,” You said sweetly as Joel walked you up the porch steps to your front door. You rummaged through your purse and pulled out your house keys, pausing for a brief moment as you peered shyly up at him through your eyelashes. “Would you like to come in for a drink?”

Joel’s heart skipped an anxious, but eager beat. “I think I’d really like that.”

You turned back to your door and your hand trembled slightly as you jammed the key into the keyhole to unlock it and judging by the way Joel let out a soft chuckle beside you, you were certain that he’d noticed it. You pushed the door open, closing it behind you once the two of you had slipped inside. Setting your purse and keys down, you gestured for him to follow you into your living room where you nodded for him to have a seat on the dark blue velvet couch before you walked towards the kitchen. “What’s your poison?” You called out to him over your shoulder as you began rummaging around in your cabinets for two glasses. 

“I’m partial to scotch,” he called back. He then added, “If you’ve got it, of course”

“How do you take it?”

“Neat’s just fine.”

You giggled as you prepared a glass of scotch for him and a glass of red wine for yourself. “Oh you’re just so classy, aren’t you Miller?” Before anything, you did a quick mirror check in the stainless steel toaster on the kitchen counter, making sure that not a single hair was out of place. You then took a deep breath, picked up the glasses, and walked back out into the living room. Handing Joel his glass, you took a seat beside him on the couch; you sat close to him, so close that his arm was pressed against yours. Somehow that wasn’t even remotely close enough. You wanted to be closer and hoped he felt the same. 

“By the way, thank you again for fixing the sink for me,” You told him after taking a sip of your wine. “You probably saved me a couple hundred bucks.”

“Oh, it’s nothin’ really,” Joel reassured you. He nudged your arm. “If you ever need me to take a look at anythin’ around the house, please don’t hesitate to call me. I don’t want you reachin’ out to plumblers and electricians, those crooks will see a sweet little lady like yourself and see nothin’ but fuckin’ dollar signs. I don’t want anyone takin’ advantage of you, so when you’ve got a problem, you call me first alright?”

You gazed down into the burgundy depths of your glass, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “I really appreciate that, Joel.” You brought yourself to look up at him, admitting, “Now that I’m living alone, it worries me. Having to take care of this house all by myself.” 

Joel gripped his glass tightly, a hesitant expression on his face. “Can I ask you somethin’?”

“Of course.”

“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. And if it offends you in any way, you’re more than welcome to just give me a good kick in the—”

“Joel!” You rolled your eyes, shaking your head at him. “Just ask me the damn question already.”

“What happened between you two?”

The smile on your face faded away, but you didn’t seem upset at him. “Well, what all have you heard?”

Taking a sip of his scotch, Joel shrugged. “Couple of rumors here and there, but I ain’t the type to believe in gossip. Would rather hear the truth from the source.”

“What did Mrs. Adler have to say about it?”

He snorted into his glass. “That you two probably could have saved your marriage had you just gone to church.”

You couldn’t help but laugh—Mrs. Adler was nice enough, but that woman could really be something else. She was always telling people they had to get right with Jesus. 

“So?” Joel prompted you. “What did he do?”

You sighed and turned your body slightly, angling it towards his. “He did quite a bit. Put me through hell, to be honest with you. But you know, I’m not the type to air someone’s dirty laundry. So, I’m not going to tell you what he did.” You paused, your fingers lightly tapping the sides of your glass. “But I’ll tell you what he didn’t do.”

Joel nodded silently, but in understanding.

“He didn’t treat me right. He didn’t treat me the way I deserved. He never wanted to spend time with me. He never wanted to be home with me, which is all I ever wanted from him. He’d travel so much for work, and when he would finally come back after being away, I would be so excited to just be with him.” You scoffed bitterly at the thought of it. “The minute he landed, he would drop his luggage off and head straight to some bar with his buddies. All I’d want is for him to just stay in with me for a night, watch a movie with me, talk with me because I missed him so much while he was gone. But he never chose me. He would never put me first, no matter how many times I asked.” You shrugged and leaned over, setting your glass of wine down on the wooden coffee table before leaning back into the couch. “It probably sounds really stupid but—”

Joel placed a hand on your bare knee, causing your flesh to erupt in goosebumps. “It doesn’t sound stupid at all.”

Finding a bit of courage, you placed your hand on top of his and continued on, “He never made me feel like I was someone worth fighting for, you know? Like my love was something worth fighting for. He made me feel like nothing, Joel. It got to the point where sometimes I believed it—I felt like I was nothing.”

Joel gave your knee a gentle squeeze. “I sure as hell hope you don’t feel that way now,” he said, his lips tugging down into a frown. “Because you’re fuckin’ everythin’.”

Your eyes flickered up to meet his and you had to silently remind yourself to breathe.

Leaning over, Joel set his glass down on the coffee table right beside yours. He turned to you and lifted his hand, touching the side of your face, his thumb delicately sweeping over the silky skin of your cheek. “A woman like you deserves the world and nothin’ less. You know that, don’t you?”

“Joel?” You whispered out his name, your heart racing in your chest at a rate that you were certain had to be much too fast for the human body to withstand. 

“Yeah?”

“Can you please kiss me?”

Joel’s hand cradled your face gingerly as he obliged, leaning in so his lips could meet yours in the kiss that he’s been aching to give you for the last yen years. He was gentle and he was sweet with it, but after a minute, he found himself lightly nipping at your bottom lip with his teeth, silently asking permission for more. He felt your lips part slightly against his and he eagerly deepened the embrace, his hand moving to the back of your head while his other found your bare knee again.

Another wave of courage washed over you and you placed your two hands on his chest, pushing him back against the soft, velvet fabric of your couch. You swung a leg over both of his and straddled his lap, your hands now clutching fistfuls of his shirt. 

Joel’s own hands went to your hips and he groaned into your kiss.

You pulled away from him, the tip of your nose lightly touching his as the two of you struggled to catch a breath.

“Let me be the one to treat you the way you deserve,” he murmured after a minute, lifting one of his hands to brush your hair back behind your shoulder; his fingertips lightly brushed against the strap of your dress, and it took every ounce of strength he had in him not to pull it down your arm. “Just give me the chance and I’ll hang the moon for you, darlin’—hell, for you I’ll hang the entire fuckin’ galaxy.”

Your heart swelling at his words, you grinned just before pressing your mouth to his once again. 

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Joel chuckled with a smile against your lips.

You clung to him with fervor, kissing him with a passion that had the both of you seeing stars. Your hands were everywhere, touching, feeling anything part of him you could, eliciting another groan from him as you started grinding down into his lap. Your fingers went to the buttons of his shirt, desperate to feel more. 

“Whoa, whoa.” Joel caught both your hands in his and let out a breathless laugh. “Hey. Slow down, sweetheart.”

You looked at him with wide eyes. “Oh I’m sorry, I-I thought you wanted—"

“Oh I do want it, trust me. Pretty sure you can feel how much I want it.” Joel chuckled again, knowing damn good and well that you could feel how hard he’d become for you as you sat in his lap. His hands toyed with the hem of your sundress. “Seein’ you in this dress all night, trust me I want nothin’ more than to have you right here, right now. But I like you way too fuckin’ much to risk messin’ this up by movin’ too fast.”

You pouted at him. 

“Oh c’mon darlin’ put that lip away.” Joel lifted his hand, taking your chin between his thumb and index finger. “All I’m sayin’ is that we ain’t gotta rush this. Trust me, you’ve got me hooked already and I don’t plan on goin’ anywhere, alright?”

You almost groaned out in frustration.

He just had to be a fucking gentleman when it came to sex, too.

You sighed in defeat, resting your hands lightly on his chest. “Fine,” You relented with a tiny eye roll, causing him to grin in amusement. You playfully poked his sternum. “But if you don’t fuck me senseless by the third date, we’re going have a problem, Miller.”

Joel groaned, feeling himself grow even harder at the way such a filthy statement had come out of a woman with the face of an angel. “Keep talkin’ like that and you’re goin’ to make it impossible for me to wait that long.”

“Maybe that’s the goal,” You winked at him.

“Just stop talkin’ and c’mere.” He pulled you forward, fusing your mouth to his once again.

[psychedelic-ink]

Your Pre-Outbreak Joel Fics lives rent free in my head 🥵

Would you ever write something about Joel maybe working you over like real gentle but til your an overstimulated mess with lots of praise and pet names? Asking for a friend 🥺

this....might've gotten out of hand but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐄

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

genre: smut, minors dni

word count: 1.6k

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

warnings: overstimulation, praise kink, pet names (sweetheart, darlin', sweet girl, honey), dirty talk, nipple play, nipple clamps, vaginal fingering, oral (receiving), newly found bdsm dynamics, dom/sub undertones, piv, creampie

A shudder of pleasure ripples through you as Joel's soft lips engulf your aroused nipple. His fingers expertly bring you to the brink, his moans of delight mingling with yours as they echo through the room. The sensation of his dark curls brushing against your chin tickles you. His thumb circles around your sensitive nub, intensifying the pleasure until you're overwhelmed. He gazes into your eyes with a smirk, his teeth lightly grazing your nipple as he brings you to unimaginable heights.

You have no idea how long it’s been since he pushed his fingers inside your sopping heat. Every stroke mind-numbing and torturous. He moves them slowly, curling and scissoring them when he’s knuckle deep. A soft whimper falls from your lips when his mouth trails down your breast, biting into the swell of it. 

“So wet for me,” he mutters. “So fuckin’ perfect. You take my fingers so well sweetheart.” 

He drags his nose up the column of your neck, lips touching your ear as he speaks. Your breath caught in your throat, your eyes flutter closed. 

“I want to try somethin’” he mutters, pulling his fingers out of you and dragging them up your torso. The wet trail chills with the air of the room. “I got you a gift.” 

“A gift?” you ask, your eyes fluttering open. “What gift?” 

Joel presses his lips into the corner of your jaw and moves away, his hand still on your body, he reaches into the drawer. He pulls out a small box. 

“Before I give it to you promise me you’ll say no if you don’t want to,” he says, averting his gaze. You smile at the way red blossoms over his cheeks. 

“Promise.” 

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

You blink rapidly, your brain not able to comprehend what you’re looking at. They’re quite simple in shape. Two clamps are connected by a chain; you also notice that the clamps have two small bells attached to them. Immediately your brain conjures up images of him fucking you while having them on, the jingles filling the room. 

Your blood simmers under your skin, arousal sticky and thick on your tighs. 

“Do you…like’em?” he mutters, his fingers finding the apex of your thigh. “We don’t have to use them. I just—you like it don’t you? When I play with your nipples? I thought you might enjoy’em.” 

“I do,” you answer, breathless. Lifting your eyes, you meet his gaze.  “Oh, I definitely do. I’ve never tried them before but I want to.” you cup his cheek, slick with sweat. “Thank you.” 

“To be fair it’s for my benefit too,” he grins, all that uncertainty gone. His voice confident. “I love how you clench around me when I pinch them.” 

Smiling, you shake your head and push the box into his hands. 

“Well then, put them on.” 

Looking away, you sit up and pull your arms back, your palms flat on the bed. You try not to think too hard about how exposed you are. You expect him to put them on right away, your nipples tingling with the imaginary sensation of the clamps. But instead, Joel rests his palm on top of your breast, holding it gently, feeling its weight. Your lips part with a heavy breath. He smooths his thumb over the peak and squeezes. 

The other one receives the same treatment, it feels like time has gone still, leaving only you and him to do whatever you pleased. 

Finally, you feel cool metal and a soft jingle circling your nipple. He doesn’t use it yet, he leans in and sucks the pebbled flesh into his mouth. Sucking it eagerly. You fist the sheets, your entire body shaking as his tongue flicks over your aching nipple. You shudder and he lets go with a pop. 

“Ready?” he asks, a smirk tugging at his wet lips. 

You nod and Joel squeezes the peg open. He closes it around your already sensitive nipple, you gasp as a jolt of pain shoots through your body. His hand is a soothing presence on your thigh, rubbing slow circles into your skin. He’s watching you. You feel his gaze raking hot and searing your skin. He repeats the motion and closes the clamp around the other one, you moan this time. 

“Feels good?” he rasps, his pupils blown wide. 

“Feels amazing.” 

Joel pushes you back down to the bed, he spreads your legs wide and settles between them. His breath is warm and heavy on your gaping sex. He presses kisses into the lips of your pussy, tongue delving between them. Your back arches, your toes curling at the feeling. A soft jingle echoes. You’ve already been worked open with his fingers with the promise of his cock, you need him like you need air. 

You moan and thread your fingers through his hair, wanting to pull him on top of you and give you his cock instead. He growls into your cunt, a harsh bite delivered into your inner thigh. You jerk away but his hands pin you still. His fingers trace the cool metal of the chain and tug on it—hard. 

“Fuck!” you gasp, the pull of your nipples making you see bright stars. “Joel, please—” 

“Behave darlin’,” he coos. “You’ve been doin’ so well for me. Let’s not get carried away now.” 

“But—But—!” 

He tugs on the chain again, albeit more gently this time. Slick trickles down your folds, your eyes rolling back. It feels so good. Without even thinking, you roll your hips in a desperate attempt to seek out his lips. Joel gives you what you want, tugging on the chain occasionally as he devours you. 

“My needy, sweet girl,” he mutters, his voice muffled. “You’re doin’ so good, honey. So patient for me. You can’t wait to take my cock, huh?” 

You nod eagerly, your orgasm a hot coil tightening in your stomach. Your nipples ache, a pleasure mixing with the pain. They feel swollen and hot whenever Joel tugs on the chain. Your mind blanks every time, your eyes rolling into the back of your head. 

“That’s it, sweetheart. Come in my mouth and you can have my cock. I’ll fuck you with them sweet bells jinglin’, I’ll hold onto you so tight that it’ll take a week to get rid of my fingers prints—Fuck—So sweet.” 

He fully buries himself into you. Inhaling your scent like a man unhinged. Your head falls back, the whisper of his name falling from your lips again and again. He tightens his hold on the chain and your thighs close around his face. His tongue laps at you with fast, firm, strokes. Your body is simply his to play with. You love being at his disposal, love when he takes care of every inch of your body. 

Your orgasm carries through you like a wave, cresting and crashing into every part of your body. Joel’s tongue continues to lap at your clit, pushing you higher and higher. His free hand moves up your body, cupping your breast and tugging on the chain. You cry out, pleasure and pain inextricably linked together. Your hips buck, desperate for more of his touch.

Suddenly, Joel’s tongue withdraws, leaving you panting and desperate. You feel him move away and your eyes flutter open. His eyes are heavy with desire as he kneels between your legs, his cock hard and ready. You reach out, wanting to touch him. He grabs your hands and pulls them over your head, using your wrists to anchor you to the bed.

“Stay still sweetheart,” he rumbles, his voice low and throaty. “I want to feel every inch of you.”

Joel moves forward, pressing the head of his cock against your entrance. You shiver and moan, feeling the jingle of the bells as he moves. He takes his time, pressing forward inch by inch until he is fully seated inside of you. You gasp, the warmth of him completely enveloping you. He doesn’t move, letting you adjust to the sensation of him being inside of you.

So deep. So thick.

Eventually, he starts to move, thrusting in and out of you in slow, steady strokes. The bells jingle with every move, the sound driving you wild. You moan and grind against him, matching each thrust with one of your own. He responds, increasing the intensity and force of his thrusts. Your breathing grows shallow, your second orgasm building with each thrust.

Joel leans down, his lips brushing against your ear. “Come for me, honey,” he whispers, his voice full of need. “Wanna feel you tight around my cock.” 

The words are all you need to push you over the edge, your orgasm crashing through you like a wave. You scream out his name, your body spasming. Joel grunts and his thrusts become more erratic, his own orgasm taking over. He collapses against you, his cock jerking inside of you as fills you to the brim. 

You feel the warmth of it, a sensation that sends a thrill through your body. You feel his seed dripping down your thighs, making a mess of the sheets underneath. His arms wrap around you and he presses a soft kiss to your neck. His breathing is hot against your skin, his lips trailing gentle kisses against your throat.

The aftershocks of your orgasm still ripple through your body, each wave pushing you further into bliss. Your heart is pounding and your body is humming with satisfaction. Joel pulls out and rests his forehead against yours, his gaze full of love.

He pulls out and rolls to the side, taking you with him. The soft jingles follow. He wraps you in his arms, his lips pressing against your forehead. You smile and snuggle closer, feeling safe and content in his embrace. 

“Thank you,” you whisper. 

“For what?” he asks, his voice full of sleep. 

“For this,” you answer, gesturing between the two of you. “For the gift. For everything.” 

He smiles and pulls you closer. “Anytime, sweetheart.”

[jobean12-blog]

Can't Keep my Hands to Myself

Pairing: Pre!Outbreak Joel Miller x reader

Word Count: 1,922

Summary: You and Joel have been flirting and dancing around each other for months but neither of you have made a move so Tommy decides to take matters into his own hands and plans a night out.

Author's Note: Here is my second story for Kinktober! One of my favorite things ever are a man's hands and Pedro and his hands are like porn so here we are. I literally just melt when I see them. It's real. LOL Thank you so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: flirting, teasing, tension, pet names, light praise, mentions of a-l-co-ho-l, light di-r-t-y talk, semi-pu-b-li-c s-e-x, f-in-ger-in-g.

PS the way he fucking rubs the arm of that chair. IS HE FOR REAL?!?! WTF PEDRO. How am I to live? Anyway, enjoy <3

Kinktober 2023 Masterlist

Joel Miller Masterlist

“Why do you keep checkin’ the door?”

Joel’s question makes Tommy pull his eyes away from the entrance of the bar as his lips spread into a wide smile.

“No reason big brother.”

Joel’s eyes narrow as he grinds his teeth.

“What are you drinkin’?” Tommy asks him, ignoring Joel’s gruffness.

“Whiskey. On the rocks.”

Just as the bartender finishes pouring the amber liquid and Joel lifts the glass to his lips he catches movement by the doorway. It swings open and you walk in.

You don’t see him yet but he can’t take his eyes off you. He watches over the rim of his glass as you scan the crowd with slow steps.

“I didn’t know she was comin’,” Joel mumbles before downing the rest of the whiskey.

“That a problem?” Tommy asks with a smirk.

“No,” Joel states. “Course not. Why would it be?”

Tommy and Joel stare at each other, an unspoken challenge in their eyes, until you shout Tommy’s name and launch yourself into his arms.

“Hi Tommy!”

Tommy wraps an arm around your waist and kisses your cheek.

You slip from his grasp and turn to Joel.

“Hey Joel,” you say, more quietly.

You lean in to kiss his cheek, missing how his eyelashes flutter closed and his grip tightens on the drink he’s still holding, the glass dwarfed in his large hand.

“Hi darlin’,” he replies.

You start to catch up with Tommy and order a drink, the whole while feeling the weight of Joel’s eyes on you.

“Do you want another?” you turn to ask him, eyeing the empty glass still clutched in his hand.

Your gaze lingers on his hand longer than it should and Joel clears his throat.

“I’m good,” he answers, still watching you intently.

After Tommy finishes off his third drink he excuses himself to the bathroom and you find yourself at the bar alone with Joel.

“I’m going to have one more,” you state, more to yourself than him.

You lean over the bar and try to get the bartenders attention. As you’re doing so, a body knocks into you, throwing you off balance and into Joel.

With an ‘oof’ you practically land in his lap, your palms pressed to his chest and his hands planted firmly on your hips.

“Oh my god,” you breathe out as your body instinctively moves closer.

“Are you alright darlin’?” he murmurs, still holding onto you.

“What?” you say, blinking at him.

“You ok?” he asks again.

“Um…yeah. I’m sorry! I didn’t mean…that guy is drunk and…”

“It’s ok,” Joel says.

Your hands slide up his chest and onto his shoulders as you right yourself. He still doesn’t let go of you. The man behind you teeters again and bumps you, causing you to slip between Joel’s spread thighs.

“He’s really drunk,” you whisper, your face only inches from Joels.

“Seems that way,” Joel grumbles. “Sure you’re alright?”

“Fine,” you assure him, not wanting to move.

Joel’s eyes drag away from yours as he looks over your shoulder. The drunken man is still wobbling on his feet so Joel slides his arm around your waist and pulls you into his side, getting you out of the way.

When he removes one of his hands from your waist and rests it on his thigh your eyes are drawn to the gesture. Your skin heats as he spreads his thick fingers and rubs his jeans.

“If he doesn’t move I’m going to make him,” Joel growls.”

Your eyes lift and you meet his gaze. “Hmm?” you ask.

Joel studies your face. “Sure you’re ok princess?”

“Princess?” you repeat, glad to have his solid body keeping you upright.

The corner of Joel’s mouth lifts slightly and his eyes sparkle.

“Totally fine,” you whisper.

When the drunken guy doesn’t leave Joel stands, keeping you tucked safely into his side as he shifts his body protectively in front of you to block you from any more harm.

You feel Joel stiffen when the man knocks into him and just as he’s about to tell him off, the man’s friend rushes over and pulls him away from you both and the bar.

“I hope he has a ride home,” you mutter.

Joel just grunts, his body still pressed to yours as he cages you against the bar.

Tommy returns from the bathroom with a satisfied smug.

“What’s goin’ on here?” he asks, raising his brows as he looks between you two.

You and Joel stare blankly back before quickly separating.

“Nothin’. All good,” Joel mumbles, sitting back down on the barstool.

“Some guy was drunk and kept bumping into me. Pretty sure Joel was about to kick his ass but luckily his friend saved him.”

You giggle and look at Joel, grinning when he winks at you.

“You never got your drink?” Joel says as he waves down the bartender.

He orders for you and gets another whiskey for himself.

While you wait for the drinks Tommy fills you and Joel in on his latest dating escapades. You’re listening, trying to focus, but when Joel starts to mindlessly smooth his hand across the bar top it distracts you and you find yourself drowning in thoughts of what his hands would feel like on your bare skin.

“Babe?” Tommy says, snapping his fingers in front of your face.

“Yeah! Hi!” you squeak. “What did you say? I missed that.”

“I could tell,” Tommy teases before repeating his question.

You don’t dare look at Joel because you can feel his eyes on you.

You manage to stay involved in the rest of the conversation but then Tommy gets a phone call and walks outside the bar to take it.

You fiddle with your empty drink glass and avoid meeting Joel’s eyes.

“What’s goin’ on with you princess?” Joel asks.

He mimics your movements, twirling the whiskey glass between his long fingers. You watch the action instead of answering.

“Can you stop?” you ask, a bite in your words.

“Stop what?” he counters, leaning into your space.

You huff out a sigh of annoyance and cross your arms over your chest.

“Why do you keep staring at my hands?”

Your mouth falls open and then you close it abruptly.

“I am not!”

“Yes,” he murmurs as he takes the edge of your stool and pulls you and the seat between his spread legs, “you are. Wanna tell me why princess?”

“I’m not a princess.”

You press your lips together and raise your chin defiantly. His lips curl slowly upwards as he lifts his hand and ghosts it along your thigh, his touch so light it makes you shiver.

Your breath rushes out in a sigh and you drag your teeth over your bottom lip.

“You have hands!” you blurt out, feeling flustered.

He stops moving his fingers and presses them into your skin.

“You’re right about that darlin’,” he smirks. “I do have hands.”

“Joel!” you huff. “What I meant to say…”

You trail off and look for your drink but you finished it a while ago so instead you grab Joel’s whiskey glass and throw back the last sip.

“You have really nice hands and your fingers are so…so…”

After you say the words you dip your chin and settle your gaze on his fingers pressed into your skin. “They’re so big.”

When you lift your face to look at him his jaw is clenched, the muscles flexing as he holds your gaze. Your eyes drop to his mouth and then wander over his beard.

“See somethin’ else you like princess?” he simpers.

Your fingers reach out, hovering just centimeters away from his lips and your breath hitches when you feel his grip on your thigh tighten. The air between you crackles with electricity and it feels like your skin is on fire.

He murmurs something you don’t quite catch, tilting his head closer as his calloused fingertips slide over your silky skin.

The moment is broken when you hear your name being shouted over the noise of the crowd. Joel’s eyes snap up and he pulls back. Your turn to see your friend coming toward you. Her excited hello breaks you out of your haze but you barely have time to say anything to Joel before your friend whisks you away to the bathroom, going on about how great it is to see you and how she has something to tell you that absolutely can’t wait.

After giving her as much attention as you can muster without being rude you excuse yourself and sneak out of the bathroom, wanting nothing more than to get back to Joel.

Before you can turn the corner of the dimly lit hallway a strong hand wraps around your arm and you’re yanked into something hard.

You gasp but sag in relief when you lock eyes with Joel’s dark brown irises, feeling his chest brush yours with every breath he takes.

“Where’d you go?” he asks, tension radiating off his entire body.

“Missed me that much?” you counter, batting your lashes.  

His eyes darken at your cheekiness and your eyes light up in victory. He carefully backs you up toward the wall, trapping you against it with his body.

“Think I’ll keep you all to myself for the rest of the night,” he whispers, his voice hot against your ear.

With an arch to your back you press closer, lowering your lashes as your fingers dance up his chest. When you hear your name, a whispered plea on his lips, you comb your fingers through his hair and tug on the soft strands.

His hand slips around the back of your neck and draws you closer, his mouth so close you can feel his warm breath.

You lift a challenging brow and he growls, squeezing your neck harder as his free hand smooths down your curves, teasing the hem of your dress.

He dips his head, inching closer and at the same time his fingers move higher, grazing between your legs. You tremble in his arms.

With a hiss he runs a finger over your soaked panties. His touch is teasingly light and you spread your legs, opening them in a silent invite.

“Good girl,” he praises, pushing your panties aside and sliding his finger through your wetness, gathering it before he circles your clit.

“Tell me princess. What do you want?”

“You…your fingers,” you whimper as you circle your hips. “Fuck me with your fingers.”

His groan is guttural and in sync with your wanton moan as he slips a long finger inside you, pushing deeper when you beg for more.

It isn’t until you’re chanting his name and quietly pleading that he adds a second finger, fucking you in earnest.

Your eyes flutter closed but he slides his hand from the back of your neck and settles it at the base of your throat, putting light pressure before his thumb presses under your chin and he pulls your focus to him.

“No, keep your eyes on me. I want to see you come for me.”

You’re instantly on the edge, teetering so close that the slightest stimulation will make you shatter. With a swipe of his thumb across your clit he pushes a third finger inside you, the stretch bordering on pleasurable pain and you come hard, crying out his name.

He draws out your bliss, fingers still buried deep inside you as he growls in your ear, “you’re going to remember just how much you love my hands with every step you take tomorrow.”

@lorilane33 @hiddles-rose @littleseasiren @pedritosdarling @kmc1989 @blackwidownat2814

[inej-ruination-ghafa]

GIVE PEACE A CHANCE - J.M

Warnings: mentions of sex, runaway children?

Pairing: pre-outbreak Joel Miller x fem!reader

Summary: you had never thought that finding s little girl injured in the street would lead to loving a man that you had just met.

Wordcount: 3.1k

The summer sun was sweltering as you walked down the street, shopping bags heavy in your hands as you tried to make it back to your house. The summer of 1997 was too warm for your liking and you couldn’t wait for it to cool down into the fall.

You had just moved into the Texan neighbourhood and didnt know anyone yet; your best friend who you were sharing the house with had met a few people including the new mother Janet and the Adlers who seemed like the classic gossipers. Your introverted nature was challenged here where all the neighbours seemed to be friends.

You placed your bags down at the end of your drive as you tried to reach for your keys in the pocket of your shorts, rummaging round for them and finally pulling them out when you heard a little girls cry.

Your head instantly whipped around as you looked for where the sound came from and when you spotted the little girl in the middle of the street, lying there as she clutched onto her leg, you looked around. There was nobody else coming for her and normally, you would assume that someone was going to come and get her, something in you told you to check on her.

You looked at the little girl as she jogged over. She had dark curly hair that was tied into two pigtails on either side of her head and her face was distorted with the tears. Tears were streaming down her cheeks as she clutched onto her knee and that’s when you spotted the gash along her leg, it was dark with blood and dirt.

Once again you looked around to see if there was anybody looking for the girl and when nobody came at the sound of her cries, you assumed she must have been some kind of runaway and that piqued your interest. You didnt want some little girl to be stuck out here in the heat by herself.

You knelt down next to her and she looked up at you, eyes wide and mouth turned into a frown as she scooted a little bit back, “My daddy says not to talk to strangers,” she said between her sobs, her words coming out in hiccups.

There was a reassurance that she had parents and once again you looked around for them but they were nowhere to be seen and that made you even more worried for the little girl.

You smiled, trying to seem non-threatening, “I just moved onto the street, that’s my house,” you said, pointing at the small bungalow on the corner of the street where you had dumped your bags. You pulled out your key from your pocket to show the house number on and she looked over your shoulder at your house, “See, I’m not gonna hurt you,”

She sniffled, the hand that wasn’t clutching onto her leg going up to her face to wipe her face clean, “You’re the pretty girl my Uncle Tommy was talking about,” she said nonchalantly.

Your face heated up as you looked at her, you didn’t realise that anybody had noticed her and hoped that her uncle wasnt some creepy old perv, “Where is your uncle Tommy?” You asked and she shook her head before turning her head to wipe her nose on her shoulder.

“At home,” she explained between her sniffles but it seemed that your presence had calmed her down because she wasn’t sobbing anymore at the pain from her leg

When you noticed a car making its way across the road, you extended your hand to her, “Let’s get you out of the road kid,” you said and you could see the way she hesitated before taking your hand and allowing you to pull her up.

You helped her up, hand on her shoulder as you ushered her out of the road as the car sped past through the cul-de-sac and towards the exit of the street. She winced when she stepped up the curb before sitting back down on the side.

“What’s your name honey?” You asked and she looked up at you, eyes red from the crying.

“Sarah,” she said and you said your name to her and she repeated, “That’s a pretty name,”

“Thank you Sarah, your names very pretty too,” you said, the pad of your thumb brushing a tear away from her cheek and she smiled at the action.

You were still curious as to why this little girl was crying in the middle of the street and why she was out here all by herself. You looked around again and nobody was coming to get her so you began to fear the worst.

“What’s happened to your leg?” You asked and she looked down, sniffling to herself.

“I was looking for fireflies in the garden and followed them out here and I fell over,” she explained and you nodded, looking at her knee. It was just a bit of a graze that needed to be cleaned up but she must have been in pain because you could see her wincing every time she touched it.

“Does that hurt?” You asked and she nodded, her demeanour turning shy.

You pressed a kiss to your pointer finger before placing it on the wound and she grinned, “You feel any better?” You asked and she nodded, a chuckle on her lips.

You smiled at the girl and looked around again, hoping she didnt see the worried crease between your brows.

“Where do you live honey?” You asked and she pointed at the house only a few doors away from where you were sitting. It seemed like a nice home with a porch and a big bay window that pointed out to the street.

“I'll take you home yeah, your daddy’s probably worried about you,” you said and you picked her up, the little girls legs wrapping around your waist and your hadn coming under her legs, supporting her.

As you walked across the street, you could hear yelling and assumed that it was the new couple thaat had moved in. It was a typical suburban street and as you looked around, you wondered what kind of dream you were living in.

“How old are you Sarah?” You asked as you walked the distance to her house and she looked over at you, her arms wrapped around your neck.

“I’m six,” she said and you nodded.

“You’re such a big girl,” you said and her face lit up, “I’m 23,”

That’s when you heard the door slam open at Sarahs house and some man stood at the door, yelling into the house, “Damn it Tommy! You don’t leave the gate open!” He exclaimed.

He seemed stressed out, his hands running through his hair and down to his beard as he scanned the area for his daughter and when his eyes landed on you holding the little girl in your arms, his shoulders sunk as all the tension left him.

The man immediately started running towards you and you finally got a good look at him. He was an attractive man who was probably only a few years older than you who had a grey hair or two growing from his hair - probably from the stress of this runaway child of his. He had deep brown eyes and a deep crease between them from where he was furrowing his brows.

You couldn’t imagine what he was thinking as he saw some random woman holding his child in the middle of the street and you walked faster to get there.

“Sarah, there you are babygirl,” he said, holding his hands out and you seamlessly passsed her over to her father. He ignored you for a second as he doted on the little girl, his hand coming to her face to smooth out the curls on her forehead, “What were you doing out here,”

“I was looking for fireflies daddy, and I fell over,” she said and her father instantly checked her over, spotting the graze on her leg.

He tutted to himself before bringing his hand back to her face, “My brave girl, does it hurt?”

She nodded her head before turning to look at you, “But our neighbour made it better,” she said before saying your name.

Her fathers attentions turned back to you and you felt like as he looked at you, eyes narrowed, that the entire gaze of the world was on you and he was somehow looking into your soul. Your face lit up under his gaze, the warmth spreading over your cheeks as you lifted your hadn up for a wave.

He repeated your name back to you and you nodded. You could almost see the cogs turning in his mind as he tried to figure out what your intentions were so you clarified it for him, “I was putting my groceries away when I heard her crying,” you explained.

Once again, you watched some of the tension fall out of his shoulders and the crease between his brows lessen. He was about to say something when he heard someone call his name out, Joel.

“Joel! Did you find her?” The voice asked and you turned to see a man standing at the doorway of the house, one hand holding onto the doorway and the other by his side.

You assumed that this other attrctaive man was his younger brother, the uncle tommy who yous attention you allegedly had caught. Joel turned back to look at him and you saw his face contort into one of annoyance.

“Yeah, no thanks to you! Get dinner set up, we’ll be in soon,” he called out and Tommys eyes locked with yours.

“Can she stay for dinner daddy?” Sarahs voice asked innocently and you turned your attention away from the man at the door to the man standing here.

His eyes scanned you over again and you could already tell that he was an untrusting man who wasnt sure what you wanted. But as he looked at you, he couldn’t deny that you were beautiful but you seemed younger than him and at thirty, he wasnt used to having dinner with beautiful girls.

“I don’t want to intrude,” you said, taking a step back as your introverted side came out, clear and apparent.

Sarahs eyes were wide as she looked up at her father and he sighed as he looked back at you, “We have enough for one more if you want,” he said, his tone gruff and almost reluctant.

A smile tugged at the corner of your lips and you nodded, “Let me put my groceries away and uh, ill be back,” you said, your hadn reaching out hesitantly to brush a piece of hair behind the girls ears and her face lit up.

Joel watched as you rushed back to your house and he walked back into the house, looking down at Sarah, “Let’s get your knee cleaned up okay,” he said and she nodded.

He carried her into the bathroom, sitting her down on the toilet seat as he pulled the first aid kit out from under the sink. Gently, he brushed a wipe against the dirt on the graze, looking up to see the tears welling up in the girls eyes - he hated to see her cry.

He placed a colourful themed plaster on her knee before pressing a kiss to the plaster and watching as the tears left her. He wiped a tear away before helping her to her feet, taking her hand in his.

“She’s very pretty daddy,” she said as she looked up at him.

He shrugged, “I guess so,” he said as he looked away from his daughter and out of the window to see you lightly jogging back over to his house.

As soon as you had left his house, you knew that he was a special man with a very lovely little girl. You rushed into your house, fumbling again with your keys as you rushed to make it inside so that he wasn’t waiting too long.

You sprayed a bit of perfume on, trying to look nice as you brushed your hair out. You didnt want this man to think that you were a slob. to say that you were instantly attracted to the man would be true, the second you laid eyes on him you had fallen completley for him even though you didnt know what he was like.

You knew your best friend would never let you live it down if you didnt at least try to look nice and shoot your shot. You rushed back to his house, trying not to look too eager as you knocked on the door.

Sarah was the one who opened it and before her father could scold her for opening the door when she didnt know who was outside, the words were taken from his mouth. It was just a quick bit of a makeup and a nicer outfit but he thought you were stunning.

“You want to come in?” He asked and you nodded. He watched as you walked in, merrily chatting to Sarah and he cursed himself. He hadnt felt these feelings bubbling up in his chest since Sarahs mother had left him and he knew what had happened to him then.

He hadnt dated in six years, hadn’t kissed a woman since Sarahs mother and although he got plenty of action and was hit on by every single mother in the school district, he hadn’t dated anyone in a while.

He pulled out the chair for you at the table and you smiled, sitting down and thanking him. Sarah rambled on about something that she was reading and he watched as you listened intently, asking questions and stoking her joy.

As Tommy and Joel started to grab the pasta that he had made for dinner, the younger brother had a smirk on his face as he saw the way that Joel watched you.

“Ive never seen you look at a woman like that before,” He said with a teasing smile on his face.

Joel turned to him, a glare on his face, “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, picking up a kiddy bowl of pasta and another one for you.

He placed the bowl down on Sarahs mat and smiled at her before turning to you, “I hope you like it, you’re not allergic to anything right?” He questioned.

You blinked, thinking over what he said before shaking your head, “No, nothing, and this is lovely, thank you for inviting me,” you said, trying to hide your nervousness.

“You want wine ma’am?” Tommy asked and you looked at Joel before nodding, watching as the man poured you a glass of red.

He pursed some for Joel and himself before putting a glass of milk down for Sarah, “So, when did you move into the neighbourhood?” Joel asked you.

You finished your mouthful of food before looking at him, “A few weeks back, me and my friend just finished our gap year and I’ve got a job locally,” you explained. His eyes went wide and you could tell he was wondering how old you were and you chuckled at his reaction, “I’m twenty three,”

He nodded, a slight smile on his face as Tommy smiled ast his brothers reaction, hed ever seen him this comfortable in front og a girl he had just met before and knew that you were someone special but he could also tell that he was insecure about the slight age gap.

Once dinner was over and Sarah had said goodbye to you, you stood at the door, the evening setting sun illuminating down on you, “Thank you so much Joel, I had a really nice night,” you said, a smile on your face, “And if you ever need a babysitter, I’m just across the street,”

“I might just have to take you up on that, good night,” he said and you repeated the sentient before taking a step outside of the house.

Joel looked back at his brother who stood in the doorframe, shaking his head at his brothers inability to make a move. There was a moment where he hesitated as he looked at you start to walk away.

He had been scared ever since Sarah’s mother to fall in love but there was something about you after you’d only known each other for a few hours that he knew he could trust. He was worried about introductions a woman into Sarahs life but she had already warmed up to you so he wasnt too worried.

He called out your name and you turned back, a smile still evident on your face from the dinner “Would you like to have dinner sometime? Without Sarah?” He asked and your face lit up.

You nodded a little too enthusiastically, “I’d love to,” you said, walking back and digging around your purse for a pen before scribbling your house phone number onto his hand, “Call me sometime, or you know where i live so,”

Your voice trailed off and you leaned over, pressing a kiss to his cheek that made both your faces heat up in a blush before you started to walk away.

You were halfway across the street when you turned back to look at him still standing in his doorway, waiting for you to go into your house and you smiled to yourself at the situation. You could already tell that you were going to like him a lot.

I loved writing this and was thinking of doing s sequel of their date and something just because I think that'll be cute, let me know what you think :)

[sugarcoated-lame]

kricket please your tag with joel…… i am thinking………………. so hard.

this contains smut, 18+ minors dni!

@sebsxphia 💗💗 EEEEEEEEEEEEEE SEB !!! I, TOO, AM THINKING SO SO HARD ABOUT THIS !!

I’m thinking about pre-outbreak Joel and the babysitter, maybe it’s been a long, stressful day at work for Joel and he just needs to let off some steam when he gets home late at night.

You can tell it’s been a day from the tension in his broad shoulders, tight beneath his fitted black t-shirt. From the tired look in his warm chocolate eyes, to the line between his furrowed brows that’s only made more prominent by the perpetual scowl that rests on his features.

You know it the second Joel walks in the door—from the way he barely grumbles out a few words aside from “Sarah asleep?” before he wraps his arms around you and buries his face in the crook of your neck when you answer affirmatively, the wiry strands of his beard tickling your skin as he murmurs about how much he needs you— that you’re in for it tonight and you couldn’t be more excited.

So you find yourself flat on your stomach on Joel’s bed as he pounds into you from behind, setting a brutal pace and putting all of his weight into every harsh thrust. His body warm, chest plastered to your back as he fucks his frustrations into you, his staggered grunts of “good girl” and “take it” breathed directly into your ear as you try to keep yourself quiet. Nothing but little ah-ah-ah’s falling from your lips and into the soft fabric of Joel’s pillows as he fills you to the hilt every time, practically splitting you in two with every hard punch of his hips, tears in your eyes as you fall apart embarrassingly quickly on his cock 🫠

But also… Jackson era Joel ??? After he finds out—from someone else in town— that you almost got yourself hurt while out on patrol and didn’t tell him… oof he’d absolutely rail the fuck out of you. Lying you flat on your stomach so he can be as close to you as possible with his strong body covering yours. Setting a slow but rough pace, punctuating each hard thrust of his hips with sweet nothings whispered into your ear, telling you how much he loves you and how he can’t lose you. Relishing in all the little sounds you make, the way you’re unable to form any words, practically babbling underneath him with each deliciously slow drag of his cock through your fluttering walls every time he pulls out almost all the way before harshly slamming back in.

Oooooof I need to go lie down 😵‍💫

This is all I am going to think about for like the next several days 🫠🫠 thank you so much for sending this, my love!! I hope you enjoy and I hope you have a wonderful day, Seb!! Mwah mwah mwah ilysm!! 😘🥰💗❤️🧡💗

[7seas-of-ryy]

Let Me Repay You

Author’s Note: More pre-outbreak writing because it’s my happy place :) Reader is in their 20s

Pairing: Pre-Outbreak!Joel Miller x reader

Summary: Joel is a great dad, but everyone needs some help occasionally

Warnings: implications of sex, talks of periods (does that need a warning??)

...

“OMG Dad please stop” you heard Sarah say to Joel as you entered their house.

You lived next door and became close with both of them after you moved in a little bit ago. You went over to their house every Friday night for a movie night and tonight was that night. Normally Sarah would be waiting for you at their front door or even come over to your house to get you but tonight was different. 

You heard her say that and immediately felt as though you were intruding. You went to turn around and head back to your house without being noticed when you heard-

“(Y/N) please help me” Joel begged

You sheepishly walked in, not understanding what was going on. You saw Sarah retreat to her bedroom and Joel rubbed his face with his hand. 

“So uh what’s going on” You asked Joel

He started blushing, “Sarah’s having...uh lady troubles and I don’t really know how to help in that department” Joel admitted

“Oh! Well I can help with that. Let me go talk to Sarah” You said as you already started walking towards her room

“Hey Sarah, it’s (Y/N), can I come in?” You asked as you knocked on her door.

Her door opened and you walked in. She looked slightly embarrassed but also relieved she wasn’t still talking with her dad about her problems.

“So what’s going on? Anything I can help with?” You asked, not wanting to push her or make her uncomfortable

“I’ve had my period before, it’s not like I just got it...” She started “But I’ve never tried anything besides pads and I wanted to buy some stuff at the store. When I told my dad I needed money, he kept asking for what and then I finally told him and it got weird. He just got awkward, which made me awkward. Then it turned into a big thing”

“Ahh yeah guys get weirdly awkward about this stuff even though it’s the most natural thing. How about I take you to the store and buy you some stuff and explain how it all works?” You offered

“Really? You’d do that for me?” She asked, shocked you were so okay with it all.

“Of course I would! Someone’s gotta help you and I think I have more experience with periods than your dad” You laughed

You both left her room and went out to the living room where Joel was.

“Hey so we are gonna run to the store and we will be right back” You told him, giving him a look to not say anything dumb

“Oh ok great, I’ll see ya both when you get back” Joel told you both

As you walked out, you turned around and saw him mouth ‘thank you’ to you, and you nodded and gave him a small smile in return.

You are Sarah picked up everything you thought she might need including snacks. You got back to their house and Sarah went to put everything away in her room, leaving you and Joel alone in the living room.

“I cannot thank you enough for that. I have no idea what I’m doin in that department if you couldn’t tell” He said

“Don’t even worry about it, Sarah’s a great girl and I enjoy her company.” You told him.

Sarah poked her head into the living room, “Hey guys, I’m kind of tired so I think I’m going to just lay down for the rest of the night”

“Alright get some rest” Joel spoke softly to her

She came over and gave you a big hug, not letting go for a few seconds.

“Thank you” She whispered into the hug

“Of course” You whispered right back to her, hugging her just as tight.

She turned and gave her dad a hug before she went off to bed.

“Well I’d say she really likes you, damn. Got a bigger hug than I did” He chuckled “Want to stay and hang out?”

“Yeah that sounds nice” You spoke a little too eagerly

He eyed you with a knowing look and gave you a slight smirk. He led you over to the couch where you both sat and started talking. You both talked about anything and everything for hours.

“Hey you gotta let me pay you for whatever you bought Sarah at the store” He said

“Joel please, you don’t have to pay me back, it was nothing” you responded

“That wasn’t nothin’. That meant a lot to Sarah and a heck of a lot to me. I gotta pay you back somehow” He said seriously

“It was only a couple bucks, no need to give me money” You tried to say convincingly 

“Well then there’s gotta be something else I can do for you...or to you” He said lowly

You started blushing, Joel had never come onto you like this before. You always wanted him but never thought he would want you.

“Hmm I think I can think of a few things you could do to me” You said

“Oh yeah? Why don’t we head to my bedroom so I can repay you then?” He said standing up and grabbing your hand “and I think I’m gonna have to repay you all night long darlin’“

[boxofbonesfic]

Title: Seek

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Joel Miller x Divorcee! Reader

Summary: You are forced to share your hiding spot with one incorrigible cretin—Joel Miller. But, maybe that’s not so bad.

Word Count: 8,369

Warnings: 18+ Only, Fluff, Comedy, Shameless Smut, Breeding, Pre-Outbreak, Intoxication, Fluff, MINORS DNI!

A/N: a little peek at the night Joel and the Reader first got together. AKA that time Sarah played matchmaker with two grown adults. 😂 enjoy! divider is by @firefly-graphics​

“Hello, neighbor.” The low, sultry drawl, makes you swallow tightly. Oh God. You’re glad your hands are stuck wrist deep in the dirt, otherwise they’d be shaking. You take a few tries to school your features into what you hope is a casual smile, and not a grimace of abject panic as you glance over your shoulder at him. 

 “Hey, Joel.” Your ruggedly handsome neighbor leans against the fence, folding his thickly corded forearms over the pickets. You offer him the sincerest smile you can muster. God his fucking sleeves are rolled up—you fight the urge to ruin it by sinking your teeth into your lower lip. His eyes flick down, and then back up to your face. 

 “You doin’ some gardenin’?” You don’t know why, but the quirk of his lips makes your stomach knot.  

“Y-yeah. W-well, you know. I thought I’d get outside today, since it’s been raining so much.” You say, sticking the spade into the dirt as you turn to face him. You’re acutely aware of the mud on the hem of your yellow sundress now, and you know he must see it too. Goddammit. You feel like every time you talk to him you embarrass yourself—especially now. Nervously and out of habit, you touch your thumb to your ring finger through the gloves, feeling its absence. 

 Before, at least, you’d had Howard as a buffer, though Joel had never much seemed to like your husband. Ex-husband.

  “Mm, yeah. Hopin’ it stays nice, you know Sarah’s birthday’s on Saturday,” He says, tapping his fingers thoughtfully against the pickets. “Comin’ up fast.” 

 “Oh yeah,” you say, nodding with a smile. “I’ll have to bring something over. Wait—she doesn’t do dolls anymore, right? She’s too old for that now.” 

 “Dolls? Damn kid’s asking me for a phone,” Joel mutters darkly, smoothing a frustrated hand down his face. “A phone.” You can’t help but laugh. “Anyway, I wanted to, you know, let you know you’re invited. Whole neighborhood is, we’ll have games and food. The works.” 

 “Oh, sure!” You’re not sure why you’re nervous. It’s not a special invitation, it’s open to the entire block. Still, you feel an apprehensive sort of giddiness growing in your tight stomach when he smiles at you encouragingly. 

“I’d love to come, I’ll um, I’ll bake something.” You pass your tongue over your lips, and Joel’s eyes follow the movement,  lingering before his eyes dart back up to yours. Imagining things. You’re definitely imagining things. You’d have to be—you’re a thirty-something year old divorcee with little to show for it other than the fixer-upper Howard had been glad to leave you. You’re not hot-single-neighbor material. 

 “That’ll be great.” He fixes you with another boyish smile and you hate the way your stupid stomach tightens when he does. “Sarah loves your apple crumble.” You try to hide your bashful smile behind one of your gardening gloves. 

 “Joel Miller, you know better than to lie to me over my own fence,” you chide, and he chuckles. 

 “Yes ma’am I do,” he says, winking at you as the corners of his full lips turn up underneath the mustache. “That’s why I told the truth.” You cluck your tongue at him, and begin gathering your gardening tools into the wide wicker basket you keep them in. You heft them up with a grunt, and he shakes his head. 

“Looks heavy. Let me give you a hand.” Before you can protest, he’s jogging around to the spot where your fences meet, and slipping in through the open gate. 

 “I-I can handle it,” you protest meekly as he holds out one calloused hand, beckoning with his fingers. You step back a little defensively, hesitating. “I carried it all the way out here from the shed by myself.” Joel merely raises an eyebrow and lifts his hand a little higher.  

 “I know, Sugar. You’re a big girl, you can do it all by yourself,” he says in that filthy smooth baritone. “Doesn’t mean you have to.” Flustered, you let him have the basket, brushing hopelessly at your dress as you follow him to the backyard shed. 

 “Well, it’s just me, so,” you scurry forward to pull open the door, and you watch him place the basket on the dusty work table. You’re not much of a crafts person, beyond the occasional gardening DIY, so it’s gone mostly unused since Howard moved out. 

 “I’m real sorry about that, by the way,” Joel says, dusting his hands off on his jeans. The look of pity on his face makes you shift uncomfortably. “But I can’t exactly say that I’m sorry he’s gone.” You laugh. The sound is brittle. Like my marriage was.

 “Don’t be.” Joel’s fingers trail across Howard’s old work-bench, leaving lines in the dust as he inspects it. 

 “Oh, hey,” Joel says, leaning over. He reaches underneath bench and pulls something bright yellow out from underneath it. “Speak of the devil,” he mutters. After a confused second of squinting, you realize it’s a staple-gun. “Knew he never returned this.” Your face burns with embarrassment as you pinch the bridge of your nose. The result, no doubt, of one of Howards many unfinished DIY projects, the ones you always seemed to end up cleaning up and finding space for in the basement. 

 “God, he’s not even here and Howard’s still embarrassing me,” you say. “I’m sorry, I would have given it back if I’d known.” You watch Joel shake his head.

 “That’s not on you. Besides, I’ve got it back now, so. No harm, no foul.” He tucks it into the waistband of his jeans before stepping out of the little shed and closing the door behind him. He smiles at you again, and you swear the only thing keeping you from melting into a puddle of jelly is the force of your will alone. 

“You let me know if there’s anything around the house that needs doing. You cleaned your gutters since Howard left?” He asks, and your face burns again as you hurriedly shake your head. 

 “N-no,” you admit. “But you really—I don’t want to put you to the trouble, Joel.”

 “S’no trouble.” He says with a wink, heading for the back gate. “I’ll be by tomorrow. You’ve got a ladder, don’t you, Sugar?”

 —

 You’re in your pajamas when Joel shows up, bright and early. The sound of the doorbell jolts you up from the kitchen table, where you’d positioned yourself so that you could see the television through the doorway. Watching the morning news rather mindlessly while you had your coffee was your new morning routine, and though it felt a little lonely and empty, it was certainly better than screaming matches with Howard about how inadequate of a wife you were to him, so you relished it. 

 You realize belatedly that the tie for your robe is upstairs as you’re fumbling with the locks, pulling open the door with an exasperated Hello before you realize exactly who’s on the other side of your front door. 

 “Howdy, neighbor.” That southern twang—the one you don’t have—is like syrup, each syllable running smoothly into the next as it slides pleasurably into your ears. You’re sure the heat rising in your chest and neck is due to your own embarrassment as you unsuccessfully try to tug the flaps of your robe shut with one hand. It’s definitely not because Joel is looking at me funny. 

 “J-Joel, I—morning,” you say, tucking stray strands of hair behind your ears self consciously as you offer him an apologetic smile. “I didn’t, um. I didn’t know you’d be over so early. I thought you, um. Liked to get a, a late start in the mornings.” 

 “That’s true,” he says, nodding as he tucks his thumbs into his belt loops. “But I can get up for the important things.” He rocks forward on to the balls of his feet, the leather on his boots creaking. “So, Sugar, where’s that ladder?” You feel warm when he looks at you, so warm you’re surprised steam isn’t whistling out of your ears like a kettle. 

 “In the, um, in the shed.” You turn to head back into the house, but stop. “Do you need me to—” He meets the glance you shoot him over your shoulder with a stern lift of his brow. 

 “I got it. You go on and enjoy your coffee, now.” Joel tips his head at you, and then reaches forward to pat you just above your hip. “Go on. Scoot.” 

 The screen door swings shut behind you as you turn smartly to do as you’re told, and it’s only when you’re two steps into the kitchen that you realize your hip is still warm from where he touched you. You shiver. 

 Joel’s just friendly.

 You repeat that back to yourself dozens of times as you shower, dress, and ready yourself for the day. It’s embarrassing, but you don’t have much to do now that you don’t have Howard to pick up after. Stay-at-home-wife was just another word for nanny to him, and now, five years into your marriage and ten months post divorce, you’re still struggling to find a way to fill your time. You can live off the alimony, sure, but you want something more meaningful to do, even if it doesn’t pay much. 

 Joel is still up on the roof by the time you come back downstairs, but you aren’t down there long before you hear him tapping at the kitchen window. You unlock the back door, and the sight of Joel leaned up against your doorframe greets you when you open it. He’s busy toeing off his muddy workboots, but he glances up at you with a lopsided smile. 

 “Mind if I clean off? I’ve got to head to the site after this.” 

 “Totally, sure, um, you remember where the bathroom is?” You ask, and he nods. 

 “Down the hall to the right, innit?” He asks over his shoulder, and you nod. His arms and cheek are splattered with the same muck that you assume has been clogging your gutters, and you feel even guiltier knowing he has to head to his actual job after this. Where are my manners? You ask yourself guiltily, hurrying to fetch a glass from the cabinet. You don’t have any food you can offer him, but you go for the peach iced tea in the fridge and pour him a tall glass. He’d come over and done hard work for you, and you hadn’t even offered him something to drink. 

 Shameful, your grandmother’s shrill voice hisses at you through your memories. Just shameful. No wonder you couldn’t keep a man. With your teeth set into your bottom lip, you head for the hallway, intending to head Joel off before he gets to the front door. 

 You aren’t expecting to crash headlong into him.

 “Shit!” You curse as cold tea splashes against your chest and the glass in your fingers tumbles to the rug. “I’m so sorry—I didn’t get you, did I?” You look guiltily up at Joel and your heart seizes in your chest. He’s shirtless in your hallway, his face and chest damp and his t-shirt balled up in one fist. Logically, you know it’s because he obviously can’t go to work covered in gutter-crap, but you can’t think about that now, not when you’re following the happy trail starting at his belly button all the way down the waistband of his pants and God fucking dammit I’m staring like a creep—

 “No, Sugar. All dry,” he laughs, interrupting the rambling chain of your thoughts. “Can’t say the same for you.” He gestures down at your shirt before shrugging into his own. “Was that sweet tea?” Joel asks, a mournful note in his voice. 

 “Yes—let me get you another glass,” you say quickly, bending over to pick up the fallen glass before you rush back into the kitchen. Clumsy, stupid—you put it carefully in the sink before fetching a fresh cup from the cabinet, and you fill that one too. “Joel, I—oh.” You turn to call him into the kitchen, only to find him right behind you. His smile is slow syrup the way his voice is, and you find yourself feeling like a knock-kneed teenager at the sight of it. 

 “That for me?” Joel asks, and you nod wordlessly, unable to form words around the hot lump of embarrassment that forms in your throat. “Thank you, Sugar,” he purrs, plucking the glass from your limp fingers. “I was powerful thirsty.” He tips his head back, and you watch his Adam’s apple bob beneath the scruff of his beard as he swallows. 

You’re grateful for the refrigerator against your back, because you know you’d slide right down to your tasteful linoleum tiles in a heap without it when he lets out a satisfied moan. He swipes the back of his hand across his mouth, and then chases the stray droplets with his tongue. 

 “Should bring a whole pitcher of that by the house when you come by on Saturday. Folks’ll go crazy for it.” 

 Your brain is still short circuiting from his closeness, the smell of his cologne,       the sight of his tanned, perfect chest—so you just nod dumbly, your lips slightly parted as you stare. Closing mouth in three, two, one—

 “Uh, um. Yeah. Tea.” Jesus fuck, why is my mouth so dry? You stumble over the words, feeling like there are a hundred glass marbles in your mouth as you try to pronounce them properly. “So, um. Saturday?”

 “Saturday.” Joel hands you back the glass, and winks. “Don’t drop it this time.” He pauses in the doorway, tapping his hand against the frame a few times. “And you’ll let me know when I can come by to cut that grass, wontcha, Sugar? Needs mowin’.” 

 I absolutely will not. “Sure thing. I-I mean, you don’t have to, really—”

 “Just bein’ neighborly is all,” he calls over his shoulder as the screen door swings shut behind him. You watch the top of his head go by the kitchen window before you slump against the refrigerator. 

 “Neighborly.” You mutter in disbelief, pinching the bridge of your nose. You make your way back upstairs to change your shirt—the tea is starting to get sticky against your skin. 

 —

 By the time Saturday rolls around, you’ve almost talked yourself completely out of attending. 

 You should not be this nervous about am eleven year old’s birthday party, you chastise yourself, shifting from foot to foot as you wait for someone to answer the door. There’s music coming from the backyard, and you can smell food, and the charcoal from the grill. You step back a little as the door opens, and you’re both surprised and relieved to see it isn’t Joel. And you’re glad for it, considering you’ve been studiously avoiding him. 

 Sarah greets you with a friendly smile, waving you inside. “Mrs. Leeman, hi!” She closes the door behind you. “Thank you for coming! You didn’t have to do that,” she says, gesturing at the covered apple crumble and sealed jug of peach tea in your hands. Sarah moves to take one from you, and you hand over the jug gratefully. “But this is way better than the cake uncle Tommy got. He went to Penny Saver.” 

 You laugh. “You’re welcome. I wasn’t exactly sure what to get you,” you admit, “but your dad said you’ve been wanting a phone?” You ask, and she rolls her eyes, starting towards the kitchen. You’ve only been here once or twice, to use the bathroom the few times Howard had deigned to take part in any neighborhood festivities. She sets the jug on the table. 

 “Ugh, yeah. But he says I’m too young.” 

 You lean in conspiratorially. “Well, how about I join team get Sarah a phone and try to help convince him, huh?” Carefully, you place the crumble on the table. “I’ll pay for your first month.” 

 Sarah’s eyes brighten. “Really? Yeah, oh my God that might actually work! Thanks, um, Mrs. Leeman. And for the crumble too, I asked special.” 

 “Just ‘Ms’, now,” you say with a little laugh. Sarah’s smile widens a little, turning up at the corners like she knows something you don’t know. And it isn’t Leeman anymore, either.  

 “Oh, right. I’m sorry,” she says, and you can tell she’s really trying to pour on the sincerity. She’s good—but she’s not that good. “I forgot you’re single now.” You quirk an eyebrow.

 “Yeah?” You answer slowly. “Kind of a weird way to put it, but yes?” You chalk it up to teenage awkwardness, watching amusedly as Sarah plucks the candles out of the admittedly generic cake Tommy bought, and presses them into the crumble instead. 

 “Everybody’s outside,” she chirps, wiping her hands off on her jeans. “Uncle Tommy, Mr. and Mrs. Anderson, my dad,” she adds. “You should totally go say hi.” Casting another suspicious glance at Sarah, you make your way over to the back door. Once your eyes adjust to the bright summer sun, you see that Joel’s backyard is chaos; every kid in the neighborhood is there, along with most of the families in your corner of the cul-de-sac.

 You pretend you don’t immediately spot Joel on the grill, his sleeves rolled up as he chats with his brother. You’ve only met Tommy once or twice and only in passing, but you remember him just fine. Your eyes meet, and he leans over, elbowing Joel. He says something too, but you’re too far away to hear it. Joel begins to turn around, and you hurriedly busy yourself at the punch bowl. 

 God, this is pathetic. You berate yourself as you spoon out punch into a little paper cup. Just say hi, you stupid idiot. You feel stupid and giddy around Joel, like a middle-schooler with her first crush only worse, because you’re two decades past the expiration date on this behavior. Not to mention he’s your neighbor. 

And God knows you aren’t the best at reading signals—it had taken you years to realize that your marriage, your relationship, was dead in the water. Joel isn’t interested, he can’t be. At most, you assume he feels a sort of half hearted pity for you. I’m like the one-eyed cat at the shelter.

 “Hey there Judy, thanks for comin’.” You hear Joel’s voice behind you, and you tense—He’s coming this way. You chance a glance over your shoulder and swallow audibly. He’s making a beeline right for you. Is it too late to go back inside? You know the thought is futile, it’s most certainly far too late for that. 

 “Hi, I mean, you know, welcome to the party,” he says, putting his hands in his pockets after an awkward moment of holding them out, almost like he was going to hug you and then thought better of it. 

 “Yeah, Sarah was…enthusiastic about the cake.” You’re trying to think of a word to describe her weird behavior. “Maybe a little too much,” you laugh a little. Joel shakes his head and mutters something under his breath you can’t quite make out—“damn kid sticking her nose in where it doesn’t—” Before he shakes his head, rubbing the back of his neck. 

 “Kid’s a mystery to me sometimes,” he replies with a huff. He squints, like he’s looking for her in the crowd. You follow his line of sight right to Sarah, laughing with her friends. 

 “She’s a good one.”

 “Lord knows,” Joel sighs. “I was raising hell at her age.” He turns back to you. “I’m really glad you could make it.” His smile is so bright you’re forced to look somewhere else, for fear of going weak in the knees. 

 “N-no problem. I’m, um, I’m happy to get out of the house,” you admit. “I’ve been kind of… I don’t know. Bored? Since Howard left.” You look down at the punch cup in your hands. “Is that weird? I don’t miss him or anything, I just… I guess I never realized how much time he was taking. Wasting.” You shake your head. “Sorry, I shouldn’t—”

 “No, no, please,” Joel looks at you almost imploringly. “I don’t mind.” He leans against the table behind you. “I’ve been there. Losing yourself is surprisingly easy. It’s the finding yourself after that’s hard.” 

 “Yeah,” you nod. “Yeah, exactly.” 

 “Listen I—”

 “Joel, you wanna serve burnt burgers or what?” Tommy calls from the grill, pointing at the thick smoke curling up from it. Joel curses.

 “Dammit, Tommy—I’ll be right back.” 

 He’s surprisingly easy to talk to, and you swallow back the unexpected disappointment at the interruption. It’s probably a good thing though, you think to yourself as you spy Tricia Gibbins, also newly divorced, eyeing you with a scowl. 

 You offer her a weak smile in response, before turning back to your drink. Joel’s a hot commodity, and you know you’re not the only single woman in the neighborhood with eyes. Joel has an easy sort of confidence about him, the kind that comes from working with your hands and being good at it. The kind that isn’t unearned. 

 As Joel averts the crisis at the grill, you mingle. Chatting up the neighbors you haven’t really seen since the divorce. It’s awkward at first, but you get over that quickly enough. It’s oddly comforting, feeling like you’re part of the community at large again, instead of the weird shut-in with the mean husband. Oddly, Joel keeps finding reasons to be close to you, joining in the conversations you’re having as he sidles up next to you, offering to refresh your drink each time you finish it. And when he brings out the crumble from the kitchen—much to Tommy’s chagrin—he thanks you specifically for providing it, and your cheeks heat as you duck your head, embarrassedly enduring the round of applause that follows. 

 If Gibbins didn’t hate me already, she definitely does now.

 You help cut and serve it, trying to ensure each partygoer at least has the option of having a piece. As Sarah wolfs down her piece after blowing out her candles, she and her friends share a conspiratorial look. 

 “We were thinking of playing a party game, dad,” she says, cocking her head at him. “Kids versus grown-ups.” Joel takes a sip of his beer, cocking his head skeptically. 

 “And what game would that be, young lady?”

 “Manhunt! Come on, dad, please? Everyone really wants to play!” Sarah gestures eagerly at the gaggle of kids behind her, pushing and shoving and giggling nervously as the adults look them over. Sarah rocks excitedly back and forth on her tip-toes as her father debates it. Sarah looks at you imploringly. 

“Please? Last game of the night, I promise! You’ll play, won’t you?” 

 “Ah hell,” Tommy curses, finishing his beer before slinging the empty bottle into the trash-can by the picnic table. “Why not? Used to play this all the time growin’ up.” He casts a nostalgic look at Joel before elbowing Sarah conspiratorially. “Every summer I used to whoop your daddy’s—”

 “No lying to the girl on her birthday, Tommy,” Joel replies with a chuckle, and you laugh too. “Fine then. Who all’s playin’?” Hands go up, all across the yard, and Joel nods as he takes stock of them. Howard would have insisted on leaving right about now, your charitable appearance over and done with. But Howard isn’t here to make the decision for you, and you find yourself raising your own hand, too. Perhaps it’s the warm buzz of the beer settling into your stomach making you foolish, but it’s a warm summer evening and you feel… good. 

 “Ground rules—nobody leaves the block, understand? No hidin’ in strangers yards.” Joel delivers the rules sternly. “

 “We were thinking… we’ll seek. Time limit?” Sarah asks, suddenly all business as she leans back to consult her friends, now apparently her war-council. 

 “Thirty minutes.” Joel replies, holding out his hand. Sarah shakes it exaggeratedly, grinning at him. She holds up two fingers, gesturing between the two of them. “And you’ve got to find everybody to win.” 

 “Yeah, yeah, old man,” She calls over her shoulder as she jogs toward her friends. “You’re going down!” They’re all clustered around the side of the house, some of them already counting. You’re already thinking of the perfect hiding place, where the rosebushes meet on the left side of your porch—it’s impossible to see from the sidewalk. The participating adults are already splitting up, heading in different directions to try and outlast their children. 

 Giggling, you hurry back across the street, casting a suspicious glance around before you duck down behind your rosebushes. It’s silly, you know, but… it feels good too. Like you’re actually enjoying yourself instead of pretending to. Howard never would have approved of this—These are children’s games, come on—but he isn’t here, and you don’t need him to. The thought makes you practically giddy; Howard is gone, gone! 

 And he isn’t coming back.

 You lean back against the porch, ducking lower as you hear the sound of approaching voices. As you reach back to steady yourself, your hand brushes against another. You gasp, loudly, and whirl around to see Joel, looking equally surprised. It looks like he’s come around from the opposite side of the house, staying low underneath the roses, just like you. You open your mouth to speak, but he holds up a finger, pointing behind you. 

 “I heard something! I think one of the grown-ups is hiding over here.” You wait with baited breath to be discovered, but the gangly teenager on the other side of the bush doesn’t come all the way up the porch steps, stopping halfway. 

“Whatever, I don’t see anybody. Let’s look by the Simmons’ place!”

 The sound of your gravel crunching under sneakers gradually recedes, and you let out a heavy sigh of relief. 

 “Sorry. I didn’t know you were there,” you whisper apologetically, and Joel laughs. 

 “Well you know. Great minds, and all that.” He scoots closer. “Do you mind? I can risk finding another spot if you do.” 

 “No, no,” you say, shaking your head. Maybe it’s the beers, making you foolishly confident, but you… want him to stay. “There’s room enough for the two of us.” 

 “You’re damn right there is,” Joel replies. “Grass is tall enough that we could stand in it.” You pretend to be shocked, raising a cartoonishly offended hand over your heart. 

 “Oh, is that how it is, Miller?” You ask. “You come over here, barge into my hiding spot, and then insult my grass? I’m pretty sure them’s fighting words, around here at least.” He edges closer, close enough that when he settles down into a sitting position, his thigh presses against yours. 

 “It’s almost calf high, Sugar,” he says seriously. “That’s dangerous.” You try to look sufficiently scared, and Joel smothers a laugh behind one hand. 

 “Danger? Here?” You bring a hand to your cheek. “How dangerous are we talking?” He fixes you with a serious look, brows knitting together as he presses his full lips into a tight line. 

 “Very dangerous. Trip and falls, termites, biting ants—you know. Just to name a few things.” Joel is handsome, not a fact you’re unfamiliar with. But up this close… You can see the beginnings of salt and in his thick black hair, how his warm brown eyes are flecked with gold and green, the cinnamon spice of his breath—Fireball, he was drinking Fireball—

 And how soft his lips are when they brush against yours. 

 You’re not sure how long it takes you to realize that you’re kissing Joel Miller. Later, when you look back, you’ll realize there’s a gap in your memory, a skip, a blank space spanning from the moment his hip pressed against yours until you feel the warmth of his hand on your hip through your jeans. It’s a chaste thing, a simple press of his mouth to yours, but the realization of what’s happening makes you gasp, pulling away. For once, you’re speechless, the nervous ramble that usually accompanies these moments is notoriously absent. 

 Of course it’s Joel that speaks first. 

 “I been waitin’ to do that for six months.” He breathes. And then he leans forward, gently brushes a stray lock of hair from your face, and does it again. You release your death-grip on the latticework beneath the porch, and instead tangle your fingers in Joel’s t-shirt. He mumbles something against your lips that you don’t understand before deepening the kiss, sweeping his tongue into your mouth as you sigh against him. Joel tastes like cinnamon whiskey, hops, and faintly of tobacco—likely from the cigarette you’d seen him bum from Tommy in secret earlier. 

 He tastes so good you could cry. Like beer and warm summer evenings, like catching lightning bugs in jars. He tastes exactly like you thought he would. 

 When you part, you’re both panting, staring wild-eyed at one another as the rest of the world filters back in. Joel lets out a little laugh, resting his forehead against yours. You like how he smells, too, sandalwood and leather. 

 “Six months is a long time,” you say after a minute, and he laughs. Somehow, you feel both validated and incredibly stupid at the same time. “And here I thought you felt sorry for me.”

 “I did, being married to that prick,” he scoffs. “I hung over that fence every other day for six months, and you never thought—?”

 “No! I thought, you know, you… really wanted to mow my grass.” You answer defeatedly, and this time Joel’s booms in your ears so loud you fear the children will discover you. You laugh too, and when he pulls you close to kiss you a third time, you lean into it, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders as he pulls you practically into his lap. Your heart is pounding in your chest as you card fingers through his thick hair. You’re glad you’re sitting down, because the answering husky moan he releases would have brought you to your knees. 

 “Dad! Thirty-minutes!” The sound of Sarah’s voice shocks the two of you apart, and you scramble off of Joel, your cheeks burning. You peek through the rose bushes, pulling aside a bud to see Sarah, standing in the middle of the street. You snicker at the sight of her. She and her friends seem to have already rounded up the other adults, and, armed with water-guns, are escorting them back to the party. You can see that Tommy’s wet, and you wonder if he tried to outrun them. 

 “Time’s up,” she calls. “You guys win!” 

 “You stay here. I’ll go first.” Joel says with a wink. “I’ll see you back at the party, okay? And we’ll finish this… discussion.” He licks his lips. 

 You nod, not trusting your voice not to give out on you. You watch as Joel gets a very rules-illegal squirting with Sarah’s supersoaker, and you’re glad he took the bullet for both of you as they head into the backyard. Once you’re sure no one else is really watching, you creep out, brushing stray bits of grass and twigs from your clothes. Your face still feels warm, your lips tingling where Joel’s had met them. 

 There isn’t much “party” left when you let yourself in through the side gate, people cleaning up with trash bags. You begin helping, clearing the tables of plastic cutlery and paper plates. There isn’t really time to talk, not really. Every time he begins to, something, someone, needs his attention. As you’re tossing bags into the trash bin, Tommy comes up behind you with another load. You hold the lid open for him, and he ducks his head gratefully. 

 “Thanks. So, you and my brother, huh? Manhunt neighborhood champs.” He grins at you, and you feel your face heat. 

 “In my defense, it was my hiding spot first.” 

 “That tracks.” He laughs. ”And I’m not mad, even though you dethroned my cake.” 

 You grin. “Sorry. I was asked.” It’s easy to see that Tommy and Joel are related, you think as you chat. They have the same easy way of moving, the same slow drawl. You think of the way his lips felt against yours again and your face warms. It had felt so right to do in that moment, but now you can’t help but wonder if it had been a mistake. 

 “He’s droppin’ Sarah off at her friend’s place,” Tommy says suddenly. “In  case you were wonderin’.” His knowing look makes you wish the earth would open right up and swallow you into the resulting abyss. It doesn’t though, and you are forced to shoot Tommy a painfully embarrassed smile instead. 

 “I, um. Thanks.” You tuck your hands into your pockets to stop their nervous twitching. Somehow, this feels like a higher-stakes interaction than any of the others you’ve ever had with Tommy, and you aren’t sure why. 

 “No problem.” Tommy dusts his hands off of his jeans. “And he’s… Stupid. My brother. But he means well.” 

 “I think that makes two of us.” 

 You finish helping clean up, hanging around the yard awkwardly until Tommy asks you if you want to wait inside. You shake your head. Joel’s probably realized his mistake by now, you think to yourself, shaking your head as you make your way back across the street. Keys in hand, you head up the steps and unlock the door. As it swings open, the blast of a car-horn makes you yelp, jumping as you press yourself against the doorframe. 

 Joels truck swings haphazardly into your driveway, and he’s half out of it before it even stops. He hops the little gate in front of your porch steps, taking them two at a time as he strides towards you with purpose. 

 “Sugar.” 

 “Joel, I—” There are a thousand thoughts, all jumping to reach your mouth first. You want to kiss him again, you want to run inside and hide until he leaves, you really want to kiss him again—

 “I thought I told you to wait for me,” Joel says lowly, his fingers sliding through the belt loops on your jeans to tug you close against his chest. “Weren’t finished talkin’.” His mouth is against yours before you can answer, and he gratefully swallows your gasp of surprise as his tongue presses insistently at the seam of your lips. You are aware, on some level, that you’re standing on your porch, in full view of every watchful eye on your end of the street. However, your concern for your reputation is kept well in check by the feel of Joel’s hands passing hungrily over your hips.

 His fingers skate up underneath the hem of your t-shirt, and you gasp at the feel of them trailing up your sides and over your belly. 

 “I-inside,” you say, the word muffled by his lips. You feel the corners of his mouth curl up against your cheek as Joel loops his arms underneath your thighs. You gasp as he hoists you up, forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist as he carries you inside. Joel kicks the door shut behind him before pressing you against the wall, fitting the hard planes of his body against the softness of yours. He fits so well in between your thighs, his jean-clad hips slotting against you perfectly. 

 You want to be ashamed at the way your hips roll into his, your heels digging into the backs of his thighs. His hand fists in your hair, tugging your head back so that he can trail his teeth and tongue down the side of your throat.  

 “Fuck,” he mutters, teeth catching at the shell of your ear as one hand cups your swollen cunt through your jeans. You feel like you’re on fire, heat running underneath your skin, sparking where Joel touches you. Your head is swimming, like you’re drunk on more than just a couple of beers. Your fingers tangle in the short hair at the nape of his neck, and the throaty moan Joel releases makes your pussy clench down hard around nothing. 

 You drop your feet to the floor as his fingers play at the button of your jeans. He’s breathing heavy, hair askew from your attentions and eyes hungry. 

 “We can stop if you want to,” he says, his voice strained and husky. “You say stop, we stop.” You can tell he wants to do anything but stop, his thigh wedged between yours, and the half hard weight of his cock throbbing against you through his jeans. But you can also see he means it, that he’ll turn around and walk right back to his truck if you tell him to. 

 You hesitate, feeling Joel’s steady breaths against your lips as he waits for your decision. This is crazy, you reason. We’ll both regret this, and it’ll be awkward and we’ll never be able to talk to each other again—But what’s crazier is that you know you want him to stay. That you’re willing to risk it. 

 Maybe you’ll just be crazy for tonight. 

 “Stay.” 

 Joel surges, crashing over you like a wave. His hands—God, his hands—are everywhere, tugging up the rumpled hem of your t-shirt to cup your breasts through your bra, wiggling down under the waistband of your jeans to touch whatever skin he can—

 “Y’know, Sugar,” Joel’s voice is simmering honey, is burnt sugar—“I don’t think we’re gonna make it upstairs.” You don’t think so either, not with his eager fingers tugging open the button on your jeans. Not to mention that you’re pretty sure that if he stops touching you, you might actually die. You’ve never felt this before, the all encompassing need that drives you to grind down against his proffered thigh, your hands fisting in his shirt. 

 Definitely not making it to the bed. He kisses you again, sucking on your tongue as you feverishly work at the buttons on his shirt. You push them apart to touch his bare skin and he hums with pleasure. 

 He grunts frustratedly when there isn’t enough room for his huge hands in your tight jeans, tugging at them until they stick fast about halfway down your thighs. He anchors his hands underneath your hips, and you gasp as he hoists you up, taking a few wobbly steps towards the stairs.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                     ��                                                                                                     

 He only makes it up three of them before he abandons the effort, setting you down. You let out a little giggle as your ass makes contact with the wood, and  Joel sucks his teeth. 

 “Goddamn house. S’got too many stairs,” he mumbles against the side of your throat. The raspy burn of his beard against your skin is delicious as he trails kisses down your neck until he meets the collar of your shirt. “Take this fuckin’ thing off, Sugar.” Joel’s teeth tug at the fabric. He chuckles lowly when your breath catches. “Or d’you want me to do it for you?” You hurriedly tug your shirt up over your head—with Joel’s eager assistance—and his mouth crashes against yours as before it’s even cleared your hair.

 Joel’s cinnamon and whiskey spiced kisses leave heat in their wake as he presses them between your breasts, pulling down the cups of your bra. He releases a pleased hum when your puffy nipples spill lewdly over the lace. The way he grins at the sight of them makes you want to combust, heat creeping up your chest and neck as he pinches them softly between his fingers. You whine, and he clucks his tongue at you, fixing you with a serious look. 

 “Don’t you rush me, Sugar,” he says, flicking his thumb against your nipple, and he grins when you wriggle. “Haven’t I been patient?” You’re hard pressed to disagree. His heavy lidded eyes go even darker as he laves his tongue across your nipple, and you whimper pathetically when he rolls it between his teeth. 

 “Yeah,” you pant as Joel taps his very patient fingers against the fleshy curve of your hip. You lift for him, and he hums with approval as he tugs them down your legs and flings them to the floor. “Practically a saint—ah, Joel!” Joel cups your pussy, clapping his hand against the fatty curve of it with a groan. 

 “If I were a saint, Sugar,” he drawls, pulling your panties tight until the puffy lips of your cunt pop out lewdly around them, “You know I’d never miss a day at this fuckin’ church.” He traces the shape of your swollen clit through the fabric with the rough pad of his thumb. “A-fuckin’-men.” The elastic band snaps against your skin as he pulls them off completely, your panties joining your jeans in an undignified heap at the bottom of the stairs. 

 Joel delivers a stinging little slap to your thigh that makes you yelp. 

 “Open.” You do, your cheeks burning as you spread your legs apart and let him see. He cards his fingers through his hair as a low “fuck” falls from his lips. He drags a thick, calloused finger up your slit, swirling the tip through your sopping folds. “Christ, Sugar,” he says, holding up his fingers so that you can see your own slick shining on them. You can’t look away as he lowers his head, his breath puffing across your heated skin. It’s only when he drags his tongue up your slit that your head falls back, and you curse at the ceiling. 

 “S’right,” he mumbles against your cunt, wrenching your legs further open. “Fuck, you taste good, baby.” Your fingers tangle in his hair, and you feel him chuckle against you before his tongue finds your clit and you loose a stream of curses and his name—

 “Fuck, fuck fuck, fuck, Joel—”

 “Say it, Sugar,” his beard rasps deliciously against your inner thighs. “Let ‘em hear my fuckin’ name.” 

 It’s impossible to think. You’re fairly certain the amount of electricity currently thrumming through you would be enough to light up a whole goddamn city. Your thighs tremble in his grip and you can’t stop the shameful push of your hips against his face. And then you’re cumming with a pitiful little whine, tears gathering in the corners of your wide eyes. Joel pulls away from you slowly, wiping at his glistening mouth with the back of his hand as he looks at you with dark, lidded eyes. 

 “Don’t cry yet, Sugar,” he rasps. You can’t help but stare as he looses the buttons on his jeans with nimble fingers. The heavy weight of his cock pushes insistently against the plaid fabric of his briefs before he hooks his thumb under the elastic and tugs it down too. “Oughta wait till the good part, at least.” 

 Oh my fucking God. 

 Joel Miller’s cock is thick. Like a fucking coke-can with veins. He palms it with one hand, and your traitorous cunt clenches wetly as you stare. The head is red, angry and leaking, and you find yourself with the sudden urge to swipe your tongue across it and see how he tastes. You can’t stop your eyes from following the movement as he strokes himself slowly, a low chuckle vibrating in his chest. 

 “Want a taste, Sugar?” He purrs, the accent dripping down every vowel. You don’t have enough working neurons left to lie, and so you nod meekly, licking your lips. “Say aah for me, baby.” You open your mouth wide, sticking out your tongue a little and he groans, balancing one hand on the bannister and the other against the wall as he leans forward. You nurse at his head, wrapping your lips around it as he thrusts slowly. You work your way down his thick, throbbing shaft, stopping when his head taps the back of your throat.

 “—gotta be fucking kidding me,” you catch bits and pieces of his mumbled praise, his fingers tangling in your hair as he holds your head still, enjoying the sensation before pulling out. You wipe at the spit on your chin as Joel pumps his cock, squeezing as his head falls back. 

 “If I wasn’t so determined to make a mess of that pussy, Sugar, I’d let you finish.” Joel sinks down to his knees on the stairs, cupping your chin with sure fingers as he kisses you, and you taste yourself on his tongue. You’re sure that tomorrow, you will find the time to be appalled that you’re here, like this, with your neighbor—

 But there is no space in your head for it now. 

 Now, Joel is settling himself between your thighs, the head of his cock sliding deliciously against you. And then fuck, he’s pushing inside, making your head fuzzy with that blissful, burning stretch. 

 “G-God,” you whimper, pressing your face against his throat, tugging at the skin there with your teeth as he seats himself all the way inside. 

 “Sorry, Sugar,” he mumbles the words into your hair, groaning as his heavy balls come to rest against you. “Best you got is me.” Joel draws out, taking all your air with him, before slamming back down, his hips meeting yours with a lewd squelch. You let out a choked gasp as he sinks his cock in to the base, his eyes rolling to half mast. His slow, steady pace is enough to make you see stars while your eyes are open, bright spots tattooing themselves against your retinas. 

 You don’t notice the hard bite of the wooden stairs into your back and the curve of your ass as you wrap your thighs around Joel’s hips. It feels so good, you’re drowning in it. In Joel. He knots a fist in the curls at the nape of your neck, tugging your head back. You let him, and are rewarded with his teeth and tongue scraping deliciously down the line of your throat. 

 “Where’ve you been hidin’ this pussy, Sugar?” The words are breathed hotly against the shell of your ear, followed by his teeth. “Why’d you hide her from me?” He punctuates his questions with a hard thrust that makes you bury your fingernails in the meat of his shoulder and sob. “Coulda been givin’ you your dick months ago.” 

 You’re not paying attention, not really, not when the white hot pleasure building at your core is all you can think about. You whine out an apology, not because you mean it, but because you think it’s what he wants to hear—and at this point, you’d tell him anything just to be able to crest the wave he’s been building inside of you. Fuck and you’re so full—

 Every slow, heavy thrust punches the breath from your lungs, leaving you gasping and whining as Joel takes you to pieces.

 “H-holy shit,” the words stick to your lips and tongue as you struggle to get them out around the moans you keep trying unsuccessfully to swallow. It was never like this with Howard, this dizzying rush of pleasure that leaves you aching for more—begging for more, even if you’re not sure you can take it. 

“P-please,” you keen, lifting your hips eagerly to meet his thrusts. “Please!”

 “Please what, Sugar?” Joel asks teasingly, before dropping lis lips to yours. He sucks your bottom lip between his teeth before releasing it. “I’d tell you to use your big girl words but I know you can’t right now, can you Sweetheart?” 

 You cum with a sob, your back arching as you dig your heels into the backs of Joel’s thighs. They buckle, and he sinks down to his knees as you feel his cock throb inside you. Joel curses into your hair, both hands gripping the lip of the stair next to your head hard enough to drive the blood from his knuckles. You lay like that for a minute, panting on the stairs as you luxuriate in the sticky, warm afterglow. 

 Thank God for the pill. 

 All you can smell is the piney scent of his aftershave, tucked against his chest like you are. For a moment, you allow yourself to bask in Joel, your face pressed against his sweat-damp skin, the feel of his pulse thrumming beneath your cheek. You don’t know why, but it makes you think of mornings. Of waking up like this, tangled up in each other, of hot coffee and quick goodbyes over rushed breakfasts, of long nights—

 “You okay?” Joel asks, leaning away from you. His cheeks are flushed, and he’s wearing a dopey smile underneath his scruffy beard. He cups your cheek, and you blink it all away, squashing those thoughts back down into your subconscious where they belong. He slips from between your thighs, and you pretend you don’t feel something like a suspicious cross between longing and disappointment. 

 “Yeah, I’m good.” You offer him a weak smile as you sit up, wincing. There’s an ache in your back from where you’d been pressed against the stairs, and as Joel tucks himself back into his pants, he grimaces, rubbing his knee. You let out a little embarrassed laugh. “Probably should have tried harder to make it to the bed, though.” 

 Joel fixes you with a sly smile. “There’s still time.” Your face heats and you sputter. 

 “I—”

 “We can just sleep,” he says, chuckling. “Scout’s honor.” 

 It feels too natural to lead him upstairs, dodging stray hands as you fish a towel out for him from the hall closet. He starts stripping before you’re even out of the bathroom, and when he holds out a hand to you from the shower, you take it. Joel tugs you against his chest, tucking you beneath his chin underneath the spray. 

 “I thought you said we could sleep?” You say, peeking up at him through your lashes, a smile playing at the edges of your lips. Joel laughs, nosing along your jawline and pressing wet kisses to the corners of your mouth. 

 “Well we’re not in bed yet, are we Sugar?” 

 the end.

 for now. 

Thank you for reading! Please check out my masterlist for other, similar works, and follow my library blog, @box-of-bones-library for updates. ❤️

[reese-tasteslikepepsicola]

POST-OUTBREAK JOEL MILLER X FEM!READER

Joel feeling insecure about the large age gap you guys have

Warnings:

Large Age gap (reader is 28, Joel is 56), baby Ellie makes an appearance (ugh I love Bella Ramsey), lack of communication, hints to making out+Kissing+Sex, insults, body pain, crying.

—

• Joel first laid eyes on you when he and Ellie arrived to Jackson to settle down permanently.

• Tommy was giving Joel and Ellie a tour while you were taking a group of kids out of the Jackson daycare for a walk to the small playground.

• When Joel spotted you, he couldn’t help but stare at you and feel content watching how gentle and patient you were to the kids you were leading.

• Your warm smile that you flashed him when you caught him staring had him jump out of his daze and clear his throat, turning his attention back to Tommy’s voice.

• Ellie caught notice and nudged Joel’s shoulder, smirking and whispered, “Were you just staring at that pretty woman, Joel?”

• Joel had rolled his eyes, “I wasn’t”

• Ellie kept teasing him after that, making kissy faces to piss off the old man.

• The second time he saw you was at a Christmas gathering in the bar, strictly held for the adults a day before Christmas Eve.

• Tommy had brought you over to where Joel had been sitting on his own in the corner.

• “Joel, this is Maria and I’s close friend, Y/N. Y/N, this is Joel, my brother. He just arrived to Jackson earlier this week with his girl, Ellie”

• Joel thought you were so much more beautiful up close. You looked so much…younger, up close. Not even a wrinkle in sight.

• You had to only be 27 or 28 years old.

• When you both shook hands and you stared at Joel with so much genuine interest in your eyes, wanting to know about him and asking him questions, his seemingly cold heart had turned so much warmer.

• The conversation between you both flowed so freely and smoothly that you barely even noticed Tommy had removed himself from the conversation to go work the bar.

• After that night at the bar, you edged your way slowly into Joel and Ellie’s life, baking them cookies and lending Ellie your comics, and having them over for dinner alongside Maria and Tommy.

• Skip to four, long months after Christmas Day, you and Joel were an official couple.

• Joel had his doubts about becoming a couple due to how much older he was than you, and also hadn’t felt the touch of a woman since Tess, yet he kept it to himself knowing that if he tried to talk to you about it he’d feel vulnerable and all mushy. Joel didn’t do that kind of stuff.

• So he kept it in, even though it was itching to come out when the judgmental stares from people around town increased whenever you both would show public affection.

• He almost opened up to you about it one night when the Tipsy Bison Bar was gathered with people all around Jackson who had threw an anniversary party for Maria and Tommy.

• Joel was actually enjoying himself, having his beautiful girl on his left arm and a cold beer in his right hand.

• A slow song had came on and Joel brought you to the small dance floor where all the other couple were slow dancing with their loved ones.

• Your arms were wrapped around his broad shoulders and his strong arms wrapped around your waist.

• Joel was so happy and relaxed to have you in his arms and swaying gently to the slow Elvis song in the moment, that he wasn’t even focusing on anybody who was possibly staring at you guys with questionable faces.

• It was when Joel’s cold beer bumped your bare skin where your shirt lifted up, and you squealed, wrapping your arms around him tighter,

“Jeez, Joel! It’s so cold!”

• He did it again out of amusement and was letting out soft laughs,

“Can you get the bartender to refill it for me, baby? Please?” He asked, planting a kiss on your forehead.

• You happily took it from him and he watched you teasingly sway your hips dramatically when walking away from him, knowing that it always made him blush and laugh at your joking attempt at being sexy.

• He watched you from where he was standing, you were waiting for the bartender patiently, occasionally turning around to give him a grin.

• All the alcohol Joel had been drinking that night caught up to his bladder, so he had went to use the bathroom.

• You finally got the bartender to fill Joel’s bottle, and before you could start walking back to where Joel was supposed to be on the wooden dance floor, a man, around your age had tapped your shoulder.

“Uh, Hi? Can I help you?” You looked at the man who had short black hair and a nose ring with a confused look on your face,

“I’m usually not this forward but, you are one of the prettiest women I’ve ever seen here”

•You were used to men complimenting you around Jackson, so you just politely thanked him and looked around for Joel, not seeing him on the dance floor or sitting on any of the bar stools. Hoping he would walk away,

“You work at the Jackson Daycare, right?” You wanted to cringe at his attempts at small talk,

“Uh, yeah! I do” You didn’t ask him a question back, wanting him to get a hint that you weren’t interested in engaging in any broken flirting with him.

• He still wasn’t getting a hint, and Joel still was no where to be found,

“I have to ask pretty girl, are you seeing anyone at the moment?”

•You wanted to cringe again. ‘Pretty girl’ only sounded nice coming out of your boyfriend’s gruff voice.

• Speaking of your boyfriend, where the hell is he?

• There was a small line for the bathroom when Joel went, so it was taking longer than he thought it would.

• You looked at the man and gave him a tight lipped smile,

“I am, actually. I’m with my boyfriend” You responded to him.

• The young man looked around,

“And where is he? I don’t see him” You wanted to punch the cockiness out of him.

• That’s when Joel had came up behind the both of you,

“I’m right here”

• The tension released from your body when you heard your man’s voice,

“Hi” You kissed Joel on the cheek and slightly stood behind him, grabbing his arm to try and lead him to sit down. He wouldn’t budge from where he was now towering over the younger man,

“There a problem, young man?” Joel asked, cocking an eyebrow at him.

• The man had laughed in disbelief,

“This grandpa is your boyfriend? Wow, unbelievable”

• You gave the man a dirty look and continued to tug less gently on his arm,

“Joel, c’mon. He’s not worth it”

• The man scoffed and stared at you,

“I’m pretty sure I’m worth more than this old fuck, bitch”

• That’s when Joel shoved the guy into the wall and clenched his fists,

“Joel, seriously! Let’s just walk away!”

• Tommy and Maria had rushed over to break up the two men, talking to them both, but their voices sounded blurry to Joel’s ears.

• Your face was becoming hot out of embarrassment due to the eyes from everyone in the bar all on you.

• You placed the beer on the bar counter and grabbed you and Joel’s coats from the hanger and walked over to him,

“Let’s go home, okay? It’s getting late, baby”

• Joel didn’t answer you, instead just taking his jacket out of your hands and walking ahead outside,

• Joel was quiet the whole way home. He wasn’t slipping his hand into the pocket of your jeans and giving you drunken kisses like he usually did on these nights.

• When you both got to his and Ellie’s house, he was still quiet.

• Though, he was being loud with his actions. Tossing his jacket to the side, kicking his boots carelessly off the carpet, and stomping up to his bedroom upstairs.

• Ellie, who was sitting on the lazy boy chair reading one of the comics you gave her, looked at you with a confused look,

“What’s up his asshole tonight?” You shook your head and rubbed your forehead,

“He got into a small fight at the bar. Nothing too serious” you said. Flopping down on the couch with a tired sigh,

“If it wasn’t serious, why is he acting like some fucking kid who got told he wasn’t allowed some candy?”

You laughed and shrugged,

“I really don’t know, honey. I wish I did”

• And it’s true, you really don’t know why that situation at the bar made him so angry.

• You knew Joel to be strong and get over his shit easily.

• Joel had been quiet and less affectionate for the next few days after that.

• The comments the much younger man made about Joel’s age really fucking got to him.

• Also the fact that the guy had the audacity to call you a bitch.

• What the guy said was getting to Joel’s head…what if a younger man was more worth your while? A man that didn’t groan and grunt when he sat down or up, a man that didn’t need massages before bed every night because of his constant aching bones, a man who was not old enough to be your dad.

• Joel was feeling insecure.

• Joel had finally opened up to you about it when you guys had the house to yourself.

• He had finished showering, a much needed shower after helping Maria clean the barn all day.

• When he walked into the bedroom, you we’re sitting pretty on the flannel sheets of the bed, a white night gown that Maria gifted you for Christmas draped over your body and a big smile on your face.

• Even though Joel had been in a foggy mindset since that night at Maria and Tommy’s anniversary party, looking at you never failed to make him crack a smile.

• He sat down on the bed, grunting when pain shot up his aching back,

“You okay, baby?” Your warm hand rubbed his shoulder, soothingly.

• Joel just nodded,

“I’m alright. Don’t worry about it”

• You frowned when it seemed like he didn’t want your touch.

• When he laid on his back, you, out of usual routine, straddled his lap, hopefully to have sex.

• It had been coming up on a week that Joel had barely touched you. Always wanting to to just head straight to bed,

“Sorry, sweetheart, not tonight. I can’t” Joel patted your bare thigh, signalling for you to lay down beside him.

• You became embarrassed, biting your lip and awkwardly getting off his lap,

“Oh, okay”

• Joel felt his heart slightly crack at the confusion and hurt in your voice.

• He wanted to so bad tell you how he felt, but he too felt embarrassed to mention how he had been stuck up all week because of the comments that guy made.

• He was hoping the problem would slowly solve itself.

• He looked at you when you sat up on your knees beside him, facing him who was laying down with one of his arms tucked under his neck,

“Joel, why have you been acting so weird with me all week?” You were chewing on your nail, staring at his face trying to study him.

• Joel felt his stomach drop. Oh god, here we go. He cleared his throat,

“What do you mean, baby?” He rubbed your knee with the hand that wasn’t behind his neck,

“You’ve been distant since that night at the bar. You’ve barely touched me or even seen me all week. Your just, distant. Ellie and Tommy see it, too” You placed your hand on top of his that was resting on your leg.

Joel sighed and stared up at the ceiling. He couldn’t hide it anymore,

“I didn’t like what that man said the other night” you remained silent, waiting for him to continue,

“He was right. I’m an old man, and I’m way too old for you. I see the way people stare at us in public, the judgmental looks and shit. They practically tell me that I don’t deserve ya. You deserve a younger man who has energy and active bones. Who can fuck you more than once in one night”

You wanted to cry hearing him degrading himself like that,

“Joel, I didn’t know you felt that way. How long?” Joel looked up at you,

“Before we even dated, sweetheart. It’s embarrassing, I know” You shook your head and straddled him, planting your hands on his chest,

“It’s not embarrassing. I’m sorry you felt that way for a while. I love you so, so much. If I wanted a younger man I would have already been with one of them by now, but I chose you. I chose you because your strong, you care about the people you love, your extremely handsome and make me feel like the only girl in the world” Joel could feel his neck and face getting red at your words,

“Joel, baby, please tell me when you are feeling upset about these kinds of things. I’ll only know how you feel if you talk to me” You combed your hands gently through his grey hair, looking down at him with so much love in your eyes it almost made him tear up,

“I love you” He reached his hand up to your cheek, rubbing it,

“I love you, too” You whispered. You pressed a kiss to the pad of his thumb while staring down at him. He pressed his thumb in between your lips, slowly pushing it in your mouth. You accepted it, and sucked on it slowly. He groaned and closed his eyes,

“Sweetheart, I really wanna make love to ya right now but my back is just so fucking sore” You slowly pulled his thumb out of your mouth,

“Don’t worry about that. Just lay back and let me take care of you, Joel. My Joel” Joel moaned at that, his big hands going to grasp at your hips, slowly pulling your nightgown up.

This was going to be a long night.

-

[spacecaravan]

Birthday Candles

pairing: pre-outbreak joel miller x reader word count: 5.5k 🎂🎈

The sounds of little girls' laughter, music over the stereo and the telltale slashing of a Slip ‘N Slide were all you could hear from inside the Miller’s kitchen. 

July in Austin was brutal but, when Sarah asked if she could have friends over for a birthday party Joel couldn’t say no.

How do you say no to a little girl about to turn 11? The answer is, you don’t. 

The inability to say no, specifically to Joel Miller, is how you ended up meticulously placing 11 birthday candles on a cake you’d made the day before. A simple two-tiered confection frosted a pretty lilac color that took you too long to get perfect, not that you would ever admit that out loud. 

“You didn’t have to go to all this trouble,” 

Joel wasn’t looking at you when he said it, he was too busy eyeing the cake on the counter. He didn't believe you when you told him you’d made it yourself, and stared at you with his jaw practically on the floor when you walked through his front door with it. When he called you to help with Sarah’s party, he’d assumed you'd pick up a simple sheet cake from the grocery store, he never expected you to bring something like this. 

“Joel,” you said mixed with a laugh, “for the hundredth time, I really don’t mind,” 

You turned to see Joel, his hair a bit damp from helping the girls with the Slip ‘N Slide, white t-shirt the slightest bit translucent thanks to the mischief only young girls can get away with on their birthdays. 

“How’s it going out there?” You inquired while peeking around Joel to catch a quick glimpse at the party unfolding in the backyard. 

“Good,” he quipped, “thanks to you. I don’t know what I would have done if-“

“Joel, please. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be right now,” You interrupted him midsentence, already highly aware of what’s coming next. It’s like Joel had been playing on a loop since he initially called to ask you to help with Sarah's birthday party. 

The phone call you received three weeks ago was laced with the panic of a man who was acutely aware that he wouldn’t know what to do with twelve 6th-grade girls running around his home. His anxiety was palpable as he babbled on and on about cakes, balloons and birthday outfits.

“She said she wants a special birthday outfit? What does that even mean? Can it be something she already has or does it mean she wants something new?”

You couldn’t help but laugh over the receiver at his plight, this is what would take down Joel Miller, his sweet daughter asking for her first birthday party with friends. On that call you assured him everything would be okay, telling him firmly, “I was born for this task, Miller”

Joel and you had met years prior, a chance run-in at the grocery store where he and Sarah happened to be pushing a cart along in the same aisle as you. 

“I really like your hair,” Sarah boldly said to you in the middle of the aisle. Sarah was young then, the type of young that made it possible to complement complete strangers in the grocery store. 

You couldn’t help but admire her curly head of hair and sweet demeanor — you also couldn’t help but notice her father, Joel Miller. Whether he knew it or not, he always possessed the ability to take your breath away, even under the harsh fluorescent lighting of the canned goods aisle. 

“Thank you,” you responded with a smile, “I really like yours too.” You took a moment to glance over at Joel with a smile gracing your features. “You too, Dad. Nice do.” 

The first time you spoke to Joel it was with a wink and a smile that he swore made his heart drop somewhere between the canned soup and the black beans. Clean up on aisle four. 

“Could you teach me to do mine like yours?” Sarah continued, running her small hands over her loose locks as she gazed up at your braided hair. 

“Sarah, we don’t-“ Joel had started to interject, a bright red flush already beginning to work its way up his neck and onto his cheeks.

“Sure,” you started, “but only if it’s okay with your dad,” You took your eyes off Sarah for a moment to glance over at Joel, silently letting him know you were genuinely okay with this. 

Your agreeing to Sarah’s request took him by surprise. “Uh,” he mumbled while reaching up to scratch the back of his neck. 

The hesitancy was warranted, regardless of how pretty Joel thought you were, you were still a stranger in the grocery store. 

“Here’s an idea,” you began while reaching into the bag you had resting in your cart, fishing around in the opening for something before pulling out a pen and a scrap of paper. 

“Here’s my name and number,” you said while you scribbled down the series of letters and numbers, “Sarah,” you parroted the name you heard her Dad speak before, “you take this, and if you still want to learn how to braid, ask your Daddy here to give me a ring, okay?”

Daddy. Joel would be lying if he said he didn’t like the sound of it rolling off your tongue. 

“That okay with you, Dad?”

“It’s Joel,” the response was terse, almost choked out because he was still focused on the way you calling him daddy made his skin tingle and his mouth water. 

“Alright,” you said as the corners of your lips lifted into a grin, “how does that sound, Joel?”

Sarah stared up at her father expectantly, eyes shining up at him in a way you could tell was practiced, this girl knew how to get what she wanted. “Alright, I’ll call—Sarah’ll call you,”

And that’s how it all started years ago, a chance encounter, a little girl wanting to learn how to braid her hair and her handsome Daddy agreeing to it all. 

Before Joel had a chance to respond, Sarah burst through the back door. Her face flushed from the summer heat, with her now-soaked hair secured in two French braids that you had done up for her earlier in the day. 

She looked over at the cake behind you with a beaming smile. “Is it time for cake yet?”

“Almost, honey,” you replied. “You havin’ fun?”

She nodded with vigor, little droplets of water splashing down on the floor underneath her as she addressed you. “Uh-huh! Thank you for bringing the Slip ‘N Slide,”

She was too damn sweet. 

Making your way over to her you saw one of her braids coming a bit loose at the end. “Only for you, sweet girl.” you began. “You want me to fix this braid for you before you go back out?”

She nodded again before turning her back to you to let you begin your work on her hair. 

Joel watched you do this in complete silence, his heart lodged directly in his windpipe as you doted on his girl. It had been like this ever since the first time Sarah called you on the phone. You were immediately sweet on her and Joel couldn’t deny that having a woman on call to help Sarah do things like, braid and buy birthday outfits was more than welcome. 

And in return, you got closer to him too, closer than any woman had gotten in years. There was a hole in Joel's heart that you slotted into perfectly. 

“Are you ever gonna ask her out? Or are you gonna wait for some other guy ‘round town to do it?”

Tommy asked Joel that months ago, actually, for almost a year now Tommy had been pestering Joel about you. Tommy didn’t understand why in gods name a pretty thing like you was hanging around Joel and his daughter. But he mostly didn’t understand why his hard-headed older brother couldn’t pluck up the courage to tell you how he felt. 

How Joel felt was, complicated. You're good for Sarah in a way that he didn’t want to mess up by getting into a relationship. It would break her heart if something were to happen that would keep you away from her. So that’s why Joel kept a tight lip and his feelings locked away to the best of his abilities. 

But you made it hard, making it nearly impossible not to kiss you when you would sit around his kitchen table chattering away with Sarah after school. Made it hard as hell not to confess every feeling he had for you when you would sit her in front of you on his couch and style her hair on Sunday nights. 

Even now, watching you run your fingers gently through her damp hair to re-assemble the style she had requested specifically for her special party made him weak in the knees. 

"All good birthday girl," you chirped, playfully tugging at the end of the fresh braid. 

Sarah gave you a quick and enthusiastic thank you before running back out the door, a chorus of giggles erupted the moment she rejoined her friends. It was precious, and it was everything a little girl like Sarah Miller deserved. 

"Thank you," Joel said softly, his mind caught up in the vision you presented to him right now, skin and hair bathed in perfect afternoon sunlight in his mess of a kitchen. "You keep sayin' it's nothin' but, it means a lot to—" Joel paused briefly, some sentiment trying to crawl its way out. "It means a lot to me. More than you know."

You know a little. Know that Sarah's mom left and that Joel works tirelessly to provide for them and his younger brother. You're aware of the privilege it is to be a part of Sarah and Joel's life, to be let into their little corner of the world.

You smiled softly at him. If only he knew you would do anything for the two of them—would move mountains if Joel and Sarah asked you to. A kid's birthday party, making a cake and bringing your old Slip ‘N Slide was nothing in comparison to that, and you would do it over and over again, all they needed to do was ask. 

"Of course, Joel," you replied, sincerity lacing your tone as you gazed at him in the empty kitchen. "Like I've said before, I'd truly do anything for her. For you too, Joel, you know that."

Joel huffed in response, bringing his hand up to run his fingers through his still-damp hair. You could see some spark of a thought running through his mind, those expressive brown eyes were a dead giveaway every time. 

Before Joel got the chance to speak further, the pair of you turned your heads after hearing the front door fly open and promptly slam shut. The door closing was followed by the sound of heavy work boots stomping through the empty house. 

"Hey sweetheart," Tommy greeted you first with a quick kiss to your cheek as he made his way through the kitchen. "How's the birthday party, bro? Have the 11 years olds taken over yet?"  

Joel grunted something unintelligible in response as he watched Tommy slide up to you easily, there was no hesitation in the younger Miller's actions as he reached towards the cake on the counter only to have his hand slapped away by you. 

"Tommy!" you yelled. He just shrugged with a smile as he backed away with his hands held up in mock defense. "You were not just about to put your dirty fingers on this birthday cake were you?"

Joel had watched numerous scenes like this play out over the years. Tommy and you were close in age, only a year apart with you being the elder of the pair. Your rapport was easy, it was playful and fun in a way that made Joel's inside twinge with jealousy. He knew Tommy meant no harm by it, but it didn't stop his ears from ringing anytime Tommy would touch you in the ways he wish he had the courage to. Sometimes he wanted to ask his younger brother what your skin felt like on his lips, or what it was like to make you laugh in a way only Tommy could. 

"Come on," Tommy started, "can you blame me? Look at that thing, it's a masterpiece. Ain't it Joel?"

Joel's nostrils flared slightly at his younger brother goading, this was another thing Joel was used to. Tommy doing everything in his power — including incessant teasing — to push him to confess his feelings for you. 

Joel took the bait happily this time. "It is darlin'. It's perfect."

Your spine prickled at the pet name, nothing set your nervous system on fire like having Joel Miller call you sweet names like darlin'.

"Alright, fellas," you said with a smile, a hand planted firmly on your hip as you stared down the Miller brothers. "I'm gonna go wrangle up the girls and get them ready for cake. Joel, can you please make sure your heathen of a brother doesn't try any funny business in here?"

"Yes ma'am," Joel replied, his eyes following your every move as you walked out the back door and into the belly of the beast. 

"You're a moron," Tommy deadpanned. 

Joel whipped around to stare at Tommy, jaw slack and eyes ablaze. "Come again?"

Tommy cleared his throat comically before repeating himself. "You're a fucking moron," he said with a smirk. "Just tell her already, Joel."

"Tommy, I swear to god not this again," Joel sighed. 

"Yes, this again," Tommy said smugly. "Do you know what it's like to watch the two of you dance around each other like a couple of high schoolers?" 

Joel opened his mouth to counter, but Tommy beat him to it. "She likes you, Joel, it's clear as damn day that she likes you."

"She's doin' all this for Sarah, not me," Joel mumbled half-heartedly, the words had no conviction behind them. 

"You don't believe that and you know it." Tommy was quick to reply. "She does this for you, for both of you, and you owe it to her to tell her how you feel."

"It doesn't fuckin' matter, Tommy," Joel said to his brother in a biting tone. "Sarah needs her. Sarah needs her in a way that I can't risk messing up because of what, a crush?"

Joel felt like he was choking on the words coming out of his mouth. It didn't feel right to say out loud, it seemed wrong to call whatever he felt for you a crush. But he hoped and prayed that the longer he kept you at a distance the easier it would get.

This had been Joel's plan of action for a long time, keep you at arm's length to protect Sarah, to protect himself, to keep his girl happy. And for a while, it worked. For a few months, it was enough for him just to see how happy you made Sarah — to watch her learn from you.

It worked until it didn't. It worked until Joel would come home and see you curled up on the couch with Sarah, and all he wanted to do was kiss you awake. The plan was solid until he caught the two of you standing in front of the bathroom mirror one day, her hands mirroring your own as you weaved pieces of your hair together. Joel could read Sarah like a book, she loved you, admired you even, and Joel wouldn't risk taking that away from her. 

"Joel," Tommy said with a frown. "Please, you deserve this. You and Sarah deserve her. Let yourself have this. Let that beautiful woman outside who loves you and your daughter so damn much have this."

You could tell there was a strange tension in the air when you poked your head back into the kitchen. "Hey boys," you said hesitantly, glancing back and forth between the two of them. "Joel, you mind lightin' those candles? I got them all settled out there and if they don't get cake ASAP I can't be held responsible for what they do."

"Course," Joel sent one final look towards Tommy before he made his way over to the cake, a scowl planted firmly on his features as he mouthed drop it at his brother. 

Tommy did nothing but smile slyly in Joel's direction. He had settled with his tailbone pressed against the counter, leaning casually next to Joel as his older brother rummaged around in the drawers for a lighter. 

Tommy couldn’t help but stir the pot, making Joel a little uncomfortable was his brotherly duty and he wouldn't dare slack off.

"What have you been up to lately besides helpin' my brother plan birthday parties, sweetheart?" Tommy inquired.

It was an innocent query, one that could have led to any number of answers from you. What Joel didn't expect to hear as he was lighting candle number four was what came from your lips. 

"Well," you started sheepishly, "I did go on a date the other weekend. It was horrible though, like, considering celibacy levels of horrible."

You didn't date often. Finding a man worth your time in Austin had never proven to be an easy task. Sure, there were plenty of dateable, attractive men available. But none of them lit you up quite like Joel Miller, so you found it easier to turn most down politely. Occasionally a charming enough guy could spark your interest, and that's exactly what happened two weeks ago.   

"Oh really?"

Even though Joel wasn't facing Tommy he knew the idiot was grinning ear to ear. 

"Yeah," you were laughing now, "the man's ego was bigger than the whole damn state of Texas. I've never in my life heard a man talk about himself so much."

Tommy couldn't help but push the conversation further, making his older brother squirm was hardwired into the man's brain. "Okay, so he was a talker — what happened after?" 

If you hadn't been the one to make the cake Joel was currently standing over, he would have smashed the confection square into Tommy's smug little face. 

"After?" you could hear your tone go the slightest bit shrill at the mere thought of taking your failed date home. "There was no after, Tommy. We had drinks, he talked my ear off and I went home. After, was me cleaning the dirty dishes in my sink once I got home."

Tommy just tutted, sucking his teeth at his failed attempt to crack Joel. What Tommy didn't know, was that Joel didn't like hearing the story no matter the outcome of your date. Did it make it better knowing that you had no connection with the guy? Yes. Did the thought of you going out on dates with men that weren't him make Joel's stomach turn? Also yes. 

You glanced over at Joel as he worked to light candle number 11, his strong hands working delicately to ensure that no excess wax from the candles dripped onto the frosting. You could watch him do mundane things for hours, and you had. Countless summer afternoons with you and Sarah on the porch, watching Joel mow the lawn while you taught his daughter how to weave together friendship bracelets. Lazy Saturday evenings filled with laughter, takeout pizza and movie rentals. Joel, you can't not like The Princess Bride, it's a classic. A classic that he now had to rent from the video store almost weekly since you first showed the movie to Sarah in his living room. 

Watching Joel be a Father was your favorite though — to see him do something as simple as light 11 perfectly placed candles on his daughter's birthday cake was enough to make your heart speed up. 

"Looks like we're all ready. You boys ready to do some singin'?"

»»————-¤————-««

It was a few hours later: the cake was long gone, presents had been opened and the backyard returned to its normal state of affairs. Sarah had gone to spend the night at a friend's house after begging Joel to let her. Again, how do you say no to a little girl on her 11th birthday? 

"You wanna drink?" Joel swallowed back the nerves rising in his throat as he asked you to stay longer. "Think you deserve one after all of that." 

"I'll take one," you replied, finally settling down into Joel's worn couch, your bare feet instantly kicking out in front of you to rest on his coffee table. "Just give me whatever you're having." 

Moments later, Joel entered the dimly lit living room with two lowball glasses half full of amber liquid, one with and one without ice. Joel was still in the same outfit as earlier, a grass-stained white shirt and tight-fitting denim. You wondered if he could smell the scent of summer on you as strongly as you could from him. Joel was all wet concrete, warm skin and humid air. 

Joel settled down next to you, clearing his throat as he handed you your glass and held his own up to you. 

"Cheers," he said quietly, lightly clinking his glass against yours before you both took tandem sips of your whiskeys. "You were really somethin' today, you know that? There's no way I'm gonna be able to top that birthday party." 

"Was I?" you teased, "Was it the Slip ‘N Slide that pushed it over the edge? Or was it the expert little girl wrangling?"

Honesty pushed past Joel's lips before he could will himself to hold it back, "It was just you, darlin', always is. You're good with Sarah, have been since the day you met her." 

That earnest reply made your heart jump straight into your throat, it sent a thrilling tingle from the top of your head to the very tips of your bare toes. 

"She's easy to be good for, Joel. You know that better than anyone."

You saw Joel getting ready to respond to your statement, some self-deprecating comment on the tip of his tongue, so you cut him off before he even got the chance. "You're easy to be good for too, Joel. I don't do any of this just for Sarah. I do it for you too."

You were echoing Tommy's words from earlier and it made Joel's head spin. Hearing it from his younger brother was one thing, hearing it directly from you made him feel like he'd already drained his entire glass of whiskey. 

"Why?"

You released a small sigh, removing your feet from the coffee table to tuck your knees close to your chest, angling your body in Joel's direction. You could still feel the tingling sensation from earlier but now it was paired with the feeling of honesty bubbling up to the surface. 

"Because I like to, Joel," you said simply, moving to place your glass on the coffee table. "Because I like doing things for you, I like being around you."

Joel’s heart was beating impossibly loud at that moment, the sound of it in his ears enough to deafen him and have him worried that you could somehow hear his artery working overtime.

“Joel,” you started, taking a deep breath in through your nose to quell the feeling of anxiety brewing in your stomach. “you have to know how much I care about you, right?”

You weren’t even touching him, yet he could feel you all over, your confession planted itself directly into his brain — deep into the parts he kept locked away. The parts where he kept thoughts of you and him together, thoughts he only indulged in when he was fast asleep and dreaming of you looking at him the way you were at that very moment.

“Sugar,“ the endearment slipped past his lips before he could even process it. “I don’t want Sarah to get hurt.”

Another confession, this time the one Joel had been terrified to admit to you. So afraid that he thought he’d be okay admiring you from afar for the rest of his life if he had to.

“She won't get hurt,” you whispered to him, gently placing your hand on his denim-covered knee as you leaned in closer to him.

Joel swallowed hard, and his lips subconsciously parted as he stared at the earnest expression painted all over your face.

“How do you know?”

You didn’t hesitate to answer.

“Because I know you wouldn’t let that happen. Not to her, and not to me. You couldn’t hurt us if you tried, Joel.”

Joel gripped your hand resting on his knee, pressing his warm palm into yours as he pulled you in closer. The pair of you were sharing the same breath now, the sharp notes of whiskey mixed with sugary sweet frosting lingered in the space between your mouths.

“Mm,” Joel hummed as he brought his other hand up to rest his thumb on the highest part of your cheek. The same cheek Tommy had kissed earlier that day, the exact cheek he had imagined himself kissing so many times before as he stared on in envy. 

“Can I kiss you, sugar?”

So many things happened in your body at once, but the immediate flooding in your panties and the butterflies in your lower belly trumped them all.

“Please, Joel.”

The moment Joel pressed his lips to yours a moan rose from the deepest parts of his chest. An unconscious release as he indulged in an action he thought was only a foolish daydream until a moment ago.

Kissing you was bliss. At that moment you both knew exactly where Nirvana was, it was locked away, hidden in the kisses you and Joel shared.

Tongues explored mouths, teeth playfully nipped at spit-soaked bottom lips and Joel couldn’t keep his hands to himself. He was quickly wrapping you up in his arms and pulling you onto his welcoming lap.

You were just as swift to act. Adjusting your positioning so you were straddling Joel’s thick thighs, reveling in the feeling of the heat from his body soaking into the bare skin of your legs.

You wasted no time sinking your full weight onto Joel’s lap. The desperation in you was mounting, and the need to relieve the pressure building in your core had goosebumps rising all over your skin.

Joel released another groan as he felt your core press into his growing erection—and the sweet moan you let out as he bucked his hips upward had his head spinning.

“Will you let me make you feel good, Joel?” you murmured as you stared directly into his deep brown eyes.

Joel tipped his head back as he soaked in your words. That was just like you, a nurturer to the core. And he couldn’t deny you what you wanted.

“Course, sweetheart.”

With that, you were pulling your shirt over your head to reveal the simple bra underneath. Your nipples had been hard since the moment he asked if he could kiss you, and Joel was drawn to them like a moth to flame.

Before you could even make your move Joel was latching his warm mouth to your covered breasts. His teeth immediately began teasing, biting and pulling, doing whatever he could to elicit a chorus of moans from you.

“Joel, I said-“

“I know what you said, sugar.”

Joel had heard you. But you were making him feel good. The feel of you grinding yourself on top of him as he played with your tits had him rock hard already. If you could make him feel like this from a heavy make-out session he could only imagine that everything else would be damn near euphoric.

“Can you take these off, baby?” Joel asked as he tugged at the hem of your shorts.

You nodded wordlessly and stood to your full height in front of him. Using the small space between his knees and the coffee table to slip your shorts down your legs and leave them forgotten on the rug beneath you.

“Those pretty panties too, sugar. Let me see you.”

This was a Joel you had never seen before. A man starved. A man who wanted nothing more than to leave you dreaming of him after he was done.

“Why don’t you take ‘em off for me, cowboy?”

All you saw was a smirk ghosting over Joel’s lips before he gripped your hips and turned you to face away from him. One large palm came to rest on your lower back, pressing on the area in a silent command for you to bend forward for him.

And of course, you did. You presented your ass fully to him as he worked to slowly slip your underwear over the swell of your bottom and down your legs.

Joel’s other hand was preoccupied as he opened up the fly on his jeans and freed his cock from the confines of the rigid denim. Before turning you back to face him, Joel reached up to deftly unclasp your bra, leaving you bare and buzzing with adrenaline before him as you both took in one another fully.

“Aren’t you just the prettiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen?”

“You’re not too bad yourself, Miller.”

You both smiled at that. Smiled because, beneath all of the sexually charged energy in the room, it was you and him. It was everything.

“Come and take a ride, sugar.”

You knew you were more than wet enough, and the anticipation of sinking onto his hard length had salvia pooling underneath your tongue as you straddled Joel for the second time this evening.

The feeling of Joel’s smooth head prodding against your entrance made you gasp. If his hands weren’t gripping your hips and keeping you hovered over his length you would have sunk down immediately.

Before you could fill yourself, Joel let his thumb wander toward your swollen clit. His own desire clouded his thoughts as he rubbed the sensitive area in small circles and sent waves of pleasure through your entire nervous system.

“Joel, please, no teasing. Not tonight, I need to feel you inside me.”

Always the giver, he obliged. Joel relaxed the grip on your hips and finally allowed you to feel him completely. 

A long, drawn-out moan escaped you as you felt Joel filling you up for the first time. Your position on his lap made it feel like he was deeper inside your pussy than anyone had ever been before. And your body responded immediately, your hips began moving almost on their own as you began to chase your pleasure.

“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck Joel.” You whined.

“Take what you need, sweet thing.” Joel gritted out.

Joel inhaled sharply through his nose as he basked in the feeling of your warm pussy gripping him tight.

Joel let you have the reins for a bit, letting you rock yourself up and down on his cock while he pinched at your bouncing nipples and playfully teased your clit. He only let his eyes close for a moment or two, wanting to commit the sight of you like this to memory. Something sweet to call up when he was alone in his bed and his mind was wandering.

But then enough was enough, Joel felt his own orgasm building swiftly and wanted more than anything to feel you soak his cock before he came.

His hands were back on your hips, palms wide and touch firm as he planted his feet and began to thrust up into you. Before long you were bent over Joel's body, resting your full weight on him as he brought you closer and closer to the edge. 

"Can you touch yourself, baby?" Joel practically begged. "Play with your clit for me, sugar."

Ever since you met Joel you'd never been able to say no to him. Not when it came to little girl's birthday parties, and especially not when it came to the orgasm you could feel building up through your entire body. So you did, you reached down between your bodies to sloppily rub at your clit as Joel chased his orgasm alongside yours. 

You came undone quicker than you anticipated. A thick, guttural moan escaped you as pleasure raced through your veins. Joel, still attentive, still watching you, was coming closer to his own end. His senses were filled with the sight, sound and feel of you coming undone on top of him. 

Joel's breathing was shallow and heavy as he came deep inside you, his sensitive cock aching for more, more, more as he pumped in and out of you, finally coming to a slow stop as he allowed both of you to catch your breath. 

For a while, neither of you said a word, the only movement came from Joel softly running the tips of his fingers up and down your spine. In the rush of it all, you'd barely noticed that Joel had not removed a single article of clothing—the two of you were beautifully juxtaposed against the other as you settled into the afterglow and what this meant for the two of you moving forward. 

Joel pressed a gentle kiss into your hair, pulling you close to him. "I need you, Sugar." 

"You've had me since the day you met me, Joel."

[proxima-writes]

title: in a feud with her neighbor

bonus scenes now available

pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x female reader

rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)

word count: 5621

summary:

Five times you think Joel Miller is the worst neighbor ever, and the one time he isn’t.

author’s note: this is so self-indulgent. i hope you guys enjoy it! if you like this work, please consider reblogging or leaving a comment because they make my day 💕

special thanks to the angels who helped with ideas: @dreamingofdaddydin @jksprincess10 @mydailyhyperfixations @funnygirlthatgab

additional warnings/tags: explicit sexual content (18+ minors do not interact), explicit language, no use of y/n, story contains visual graphics, everyone pretend the 12 ft skeleton was available in 2003 and you could stream TV shows, no sarah, no outbreak, neighbor feuds, enemies to lovers, oral (explicit f receiving, non-explicit m receiving), semi-public sex, making out in a pool, reader is a menace and arguably the bad neighbor here, unprotected p in v, use of sex toys, praise kink, pet names, dirty talk. let me know if any are missing!

Joel Miller is the worst neighbor ever. 

Your issues with him started on your first Halloween in the neighborhood. You had moved into your new home a few months prior, thrilled that you finally managed to escape the horrors of apartment living. You were now the proud owner of a little single story two bedroom craftsman style home, complete with fenced in backyard and a pool. 

You loved your little house and the neighborhood was ideal, quiet but tight knit. The neighbor to your left, an elderly woman named Betty, had invited you over for tea and cookies and given you the lowdown on the neighborhood gossip.

The neighbor to your right, Joel Miller, she said, was a wonderful man. Polite, kind, and not too hard on the eyes either. You hadn’t met him yet, but with a glowing review like that, you couldn’t wait until you did.

She had also mentioned that the neighborhood goes all out for Halloween. They even hosted a contest for the best decorated house. Your mind already raced with the possibilities.

You loved Halloween. In Texas, the stifling heat finally eased around that time, dropping to a slightly more tolerable range in the 80s with cooler nights. You loved seeing all the displays in the stores and how abandoned storefronts would be overtaken by whole companies dedicated to Halloween. You watched all the horror movies you could and on the weekends you’d seek out local fall festivals because you’re a sucker for candy apples and funnel cake.

No one ever decorated at the apartment complex you previously lived in, so you were extra excited to decorate your house and yard. You bought fake tombstones and plastic skeletons for the yard, spider webs and little ghosts to hang in the trees. You carved two pumpkins to set on either side of the steps leading up to your front door and made little ghost statues out of tomato cages, foam balls, and white fabric. You even strung purple lights through your hedges. 

You were totally going to win the decorating contest. You were confident that you would.

Until you woke up Halloween morning and Joel Miller had somehow decorated his entire home in the time that you had been sleeping, blissfully unaware.

The man had somehow managed to set up an entire army of skeletons, including a handmade wooden jail stuffed with ones trying to escape. There were some posed on the house itself, climbing up the sides and the roof. He had some coming out of the ground, red spotlights fixed on them for an eerie glow. But perhaps most impressive of all was the twelve foot skeleton with glowing red eyes that was posed near the makeshift jail, holding the door open like it was releasing the trapped undead soldiers.

Joel Miller had the motherfucking twelve foot skeleton. You wanted one of those so bad but it was always sold out. You checked every nearby Home Depot for months trying to find one and here Joel Miller has one, taunting you.

He won the decorating contest, sweeping the victory from right under your feet.

It may seem silly, but that was the moment you decided Joel Miller was the worst neighbor ever.

When you were buying your first home, you had been meticulous in calculating your finances in order to comfortably afford the purchase. You did not, however, account for having to repair your air conditioning system within less than a year of moving in. This made a significant dent in your savings, which led you to cut your expenses elsewhere.

One such expense was your internet. Why? Because it turns out Joel Miller, asshole neighbor, doesn’t password protect his router and you can just use his.

It’s not like he would notice.

_________________

Joel stares at his internet bill in confusion. This is the third month in a row that he’s been charged for going over his data allowance. That doesn’t even make sense. He’s the only person in his house and he only uses the internet on his phone to check the news and sometimes play Candy Crush. It’s why he got the lowest data plan in the first place.

He tries to think of what he could be doing differently, but comes up short. Hell, he’s not even home most of the day. He works long hours at different contracting jobs, so his free time is spent watching TV (cable, not connected to the internet), and sleeping.

But then it hits him. The overage charges never happened until you moved in. 

Joel powers up his ancient laptop and has to Google search what a router is. Turns out, he doesn’t have a password set on his. Which means, if his hunch is correct, you’ve just had free access to his internet this whole time.

He learns how to set a password and, more importantly, he learns how to change the name of his router. 

He needs to send a message, after all.

_________________

You’re about to start another episode of Grey’s Anatomy, courtesy of your friend generously sharing her Netflix password, when you receive an error message. 

No internet connectivity. Try again?

The little WiFi connection icon is missing from your toolbar. You investigate further, opening the list of options and scanning them for Joel’s, conveniently titled Miller.

But instead you find a new name.

GetYourOwnWiFi. And it’s password protected.

“Son of a bitch,” you hiss.

Joel Miller’s tree is always dropping debris in your yard. The limbs have grown over your shared fence line and on windy days you have to deal with extra pool clean up on top of the usual mess it makes of your yard, twigs and leaves ruining your perfectly manicured backyard oasis. 

You’ve asked him to trim the branches. Left him notes on his door and in his mailbox, but he still hasn’t done it.

Today you’re sending a new kind of message.

He’s going to wish he’d listened when you asked nicely. 

_________________

“What the fuck,” Joel growls when he gets home just after sunset. There’s piles of leaves and twigs littering his front porch, almost to the point that he can’t see the concrete slab beneath. 

There’s no way this just happened through the force of nature. It’s been a perfectly clear day in Austin and besides, there’s no trees at the front of his house for this kind of mess to fall from.

Which can only mean…

His eyes spot the bright pink Post-It note stuck to his door and he curses under his breath as he stomps up the porch steps and rips it down.

Here. Clean your own mess up for once. 

xoxo

Joel crumbles the note in his fist, taking deep breaths as he heads for the garage to grab a broom and a trash bag.

He’ll get you back.

He always does. 

You love animals, especially cats. Unfortunately, being allergic, you don’t have the option to have one of your own all the time. 

When you spot the first neighborhood stray, your heart lights up with excitement. It’s a little black and white cat with bright green eyes that walks right up to you while you’re getting your mail, winding its lithe body between your legs and purring against you. You stoop to pet it, mentally reminding yourself to wash your hands before you touch your face, otherwise your eyes would be itchy for hours.

“Hello, little baby,” you murmur, rubbing a hand down the length of its back. “How are you?” The cat gives a strong meow in response. “Oh, are you hungry? Let’s go see if I have anything I can give you as a treat.”

Back inside your house, you locate a can of tuna and dump it into a small plastic bowl. The cat sits patiently on the porch, tail flicking in anticipation. It hops down and shoves its little face into the bowl as soon as it’s within reach. 

“So cute,” you say, giving it one last pat on its back before returning inside.

_________________

There’s a cat sitting on Joel’s porch, watching him as he parks his truck. It’s the second time this week there’s been a cat lurking around his property. The first one he found out in the backyard, tearing up his flower beds.

The neighborhood had never had an issue with cats before, so he has a sneaking suspicion that you’re, once again, the root cause of his suffering. 

His suspicions are confirmed when he sees you on the porch one day, laying out a row of plastic bowls filled with what he assumes is cat food. At first he’s annoyed that he’s right, it is you feeding the cats, which is why they’ve been terrorizing his yard, but then you turn around and he’s struck by how utterly gorgeous you are. 

This is the first time Joel’s ever actually seen you. He’s usually out of the house before dawn and back after sunset, which must not coincide with your schedule since you’ve never run into each other. He remembers Betty, the older woman who lives to your left, telling him about meeting you.

“Gorgeous girl, that one. You two would probably hit it off,” she said as he hung a picture frame for her.

“Don’t go playin’ matchmaker, Betty,” he replied. 

But damn, seeing you now in a pair of little shorts that hug your hips and ass just right and a tight white t-shirt that shows off the tiniest bit of skin above the waist of your shorts is making him think he should have taken Betty up on her word.

Joel’s so distracted that he almost misses the way the cat on his porch hits one of his planters with his paw, knocking the ceramic over and spilling dirt all over the ground.

“Fuck!”

_________________

There’s a note on your door the next morning, a torn piece of paper with a familiar scrawl of messy handwriting that could only belong to one person.

Stop feeding the cats or you owe me new plants.

-Joel

The note actually makes you giggle. Betty sees you on your porch and beckons you over to hers.

“What’s got you gigglin’ like a schoolgirl?” The older woman asks.

“What? Nothing,” you reply too quickly.

“Wouldn’t happen to be a note from a certain tall, strong, and handsome young neighbor of yours?”

“No, definitely not.” 

She smirks at you. “You better quit terrorizin’ that poor man, honey.”

“Now, Betty, where would the fun be in that?” You say brightly as you head back to your house, the sound of her laughter following you through the door. 

There’s a package on Joel’s porch when he gets home from work. He doesn’t remember ordering anything, but he wouldn’t put it past himself.

He brings it inside without thinking twice or checking the label, chucking it on the counter with the rest of his mail as he searches for a box cutter in his junk drawer.

Joel cuts through the packing tape, lifting the flaps and rifling through the packing paper to pull out the contents.

It’s another box, light pink with the image of a hot pink u-shaped device on the top. The text across the top reads REMOTE VIBRATOR in black script.

He nearly drops the box in surprise, fumbling it in his hands. He’s certain he didn’t order this. 

Joel pulls the shipping box back towards him, keeping an eye on the vibrator like it might grow legs and run away. He flips the lid over to inspect the shipping label, his eyebrows rising as he reads your name and home address instead of his.

He looks at the toy again, mind whirling with images of you on your back, remote in hand as you bring yourself pleasure. He coughs, clearing his head and adjusts himself in his jeans.

He searches the junk drawer for a sheet of paper and a pen.

_________________

You’re staring at the delivery confirmation email from Lovelies, panic creeping down your spine. It says that your new toy has been delivered but there’s no package in your mailbox or on your porch. You’ve checked everywhere.

Which means it was either delivered to one of your neighbors or someone stole it.

If you’re being honest, you’d rather someone stole it than to have to go knock on Betty or, god forbid, Joel’s door to ask if they accidentally received your sex toy delivery. Your cheeks heat at even the thought of Joel knowing what you ordered. You head back inside empty handed.

Later, when you open your door to feed the cats, you’re surprised to find a box on your welcome mat. You set the bowls of food down and carry it inside, your excitement mounting. 

But when you open the box, you’re mortified to find a torn piece of paper on top of the packing material, Joel Miller’s familiar handwriting on the sheet.

Interesting choice

-Joel

“Fucking asshole,” you mumble, crumbling the note and tossing it to the side. You pull your new toy from its box and turn it on. “Huh. Fully charged.”

Your jerk of a neighbor won’t ruin your night if this little gadget has anything to say about it.

It’s Joel’s one day to sleep in and you’ve been blasting your music all fucking morning. He’s already got his head shoved under his pillow but the sound still filters through, ruining his chances of any extra hours of sleep to make up for his lack of it during the week.

He rolls out of bed with a heavy sigh, scrubbing a hand across his beard. He heads downstairs to make coffee, the heavy beat of your music chasing him through the house. He can feel the beginnings of a headache pulsing behind his eyes.

Joel tries to tune it out. Really. He does. As much as the two of you butt heads, he doesn’t mean anything by it, not really. He doesn’t want to be an asshole, nor is he trying to be one. 

But if you don’t turn your music down soon he’s going to lose his fucking mind.

He gives you another hour. He’s feeling generous. But when the music just keeps playing, he finally snaps. 

Joel shoves his feet into the work boots beside the door, paying little mind to the fact that he’s not wearing socks. In fact, he’s still in his sleep pants and ratty old t-shirt but he’s too far gone to care.

Once he’s in front of your door, he bangs on the wood with his fists. He waits for a response and when he doesn’t get one, probably since you can’t fucking hear him, he bangs again. There’s movement from the corner of his eye and he turns his head to find Betty watching him, lips tilted in a smirk.

“You okay with this?” Joel asks, gesturing vaguely to your house to indicate the noise level inside. 

“Don’t be such a party pooper,” she replies before shuffling inside. He turns back to the door to pummel it with his fists again but he’s surprised to find it open.

“Howdy, neighbor,” you say, eyebrow raised and arms crossed beneath your breasts.

Which were currently covered by the tiniest bikini top he’s ever seen. His eyes trail lower, over the expanse of your stomach to the matching bikini bottoms that peek out past the folded waist of your denim shorts.

“Uh,” he says, followed by a strained cough. “Hi.”

_________________

Joel Miller is standing on your porch dressed in a threadbare t-shirt and gray pajama bottoms that sit low on his hips, a strip of soft tan belly peeking out from above the waistband when he stretches an arm up to run his fingers through his dark, messy curls.

Christ, you think. The man is prettier than Betty gave him credit for.

“Can I help you?” You ask. His eyes snap from where they’d been lingering on your chest and you straighten your back just the slightest bit at the knowledge he’d been checking you out. 

Joel clears his throat. “Your music is way too loud.”

You roll your eyes. “Does it hurt?”

“Does…what hurt?”

“Always having a stick up your ass.” 

Betty barks a laugh from her porch and Joel’s head turns so fast you have whiplash just watching him. He throws his hands up.

“Who’s side are you on, Betty?!” He shouts. 

You’re bent over, laughing so hard your stomach hurts and tears form at the corners of your eyes. When you finally catch your breath and return your attention to Joel, he’s got his hands on his hips and an impressive furrow between his brows.

“Listen, maybe we got off on the wrong foot. I’m about to go out by the pool and have a drink. Wanna join?” You ask. 

“I don’t have my suit with me.”

“Well good thing you’re just right next door, huh? Go get it. I’ll leave the door unlocked,” you tell him before shutting the door in his face.

_________________

Joel returns to your house thirty minutes later, showered and wearing his swim trunks and a new t-shirt. He wipes his sweaty hands against his chest, not entirely sure why he’s nervous. He’s just having a drink with his annoying neighbor to hash out all the issues. No big deal.

Your music is still playing when he enters your house, giving the door a courtesy knock before letting himself in. The front door opens directly into the main living space, a large sectional couch facing a TV mounted between two windows to his right and a dining nook to his left. Your kitchen is nestled in the corner, just past an opening to a hallway that he assumes leads to the bedrooms. Your place is bursting with colors and textures and patterns, from the floral blanket draped over your velvet couch to the leaf patterned wallpaper and natural stone backsplash in your kitchen. You have tea towels hanging from your stove that say “ANOTHER ONE BITES THE CRUST” with a picture of a pizza, and an impressive looking bar cart that houses a variety of liquor bottles and glassware.

There’s a splash from outside and Joel sees that the sliding glass door to your patio is open. He steps onto the concrete deck, surveying the backyard oasis you’ve created for yourself. The pool is on the smaller side but still, it’s a pool, and Joel’s a little jealous of it. You’ve got chaise loungers lined near the edge and matching chairs that surround a little fire pit further out in the yard. There’s string lights hung from the shade canopy that extends from your house. 

You pop up from beneath the surface, your hair slicked back from your face and little droplets of water clinging to your skin. Joel stands there, unsure of what to do, until you swim to the ledge closest to him and drape your arms over it, regarding him with keen eyes.

“Hi,” you say. He swallows, the nerves returning as he tries desperately to not let his gaze fall below your neck.

“Hey,” he replies. 

“There’s beer in the cooler. Grab me one?” You ask before ducking back beneath the surface. He can see you swim towards the edge of the pool that the loungers face. He grabs two beers as instructed, popping the tops with the bottle opener fixed to the lid of the cooler. You break the surface once more, swimming over to where he sits on the end of one loungers.

Joel passes you the beer and you tip it towards him in thanks before taking a deep pull, your lips wrapped around the lip of the bottle and distracting him monumentally. 

“So, you’re the Joel Miller, huh?” You ask. “Tell me about yourself.”

The two of you talk for what feels like ages. He learns that you’re a software engineer and you work a typical 9-5 schedule, which is why he’s never caught you around the neighborhood before. You don’t like to be outdoors much, preferring reading and catching up on your Netflix shows. You have two brothers, both of whom are older than you and live on the opposite side of the country, but you visit them around Christmas. You love animals, but have major allergies so you settle for fleeting moments with the neighborhood strays and occasionally watching your best friend’s dog when she goes out of town. 

He tells you about his work as a contractor, which he’s been doing since he was fresh out of high school and had no idea what to do with his life. He talks about his brother Tommy, how they work together on most projects and they want to start their own contracting business, but that’s a dream for another day. He mentions he’s more of a dog person than a cat person, especially because he has a grudge against the orange neighborhood cat that is still tearing up his flowerbeds. 

Joel loves the way you laugh, bright and full bodied as you toss your head back and bring a hand to your chest each time. You talk with your hands a lot, which is funny because you keep letting go of the pool ledge and scrambling to grab it again when gravity pulls you down in the water. If he doesn’t give enough detail in an answer, you’re not shy about asking him for more information, like when he said his favorite color was blue.

“Okay, but what shade of blue?” You asked.

“Just…blue?” Joel asked, clearly not understanding your question.

You rolled your eyes. “Men. I like lavender. Not just purple. Purple is a range of shades.”

“I guess…navy?”

“Now you’re getting somewhere, big guy!”

The conversation lulls as you share your drinks in companionable silence. The Texas sun bears down on his back, his t-shirt sticking uncomfortably to his sweat slick skin. He bites the bullet and reaches behind his head to tug the damp fabric off, leaving him in just his swim trunks. He doesn’t miss the appreciative once-over you give him.

You extend a hand to him. “Help me out?””

Joel grasps your hand in his, marveling for a moment how small it is in his broad palm. He’s distracted enough that he doesn’t notice the michievous look on your face, or the way you plant your feet to the pool wall for leverage.

You give a sharp tug with both hands and he goes toppling into the pool with a surprised shout.

_________________

You’re laughing so hard you can barely catch your breath. The look on Joel’s face as you tugged him into the pool will be burned into your memory for years to come. You’d been waiting all afternoon for the man to take his shirt off, not only because you were admittedly dying to see what was hiding beneath the fabric, but also because you wanted exact a little neighborly revenge for stomping over to your house to tell you your music was too loud.

You’re feeling mighty accomplished, right up until you feel a hand wrap around your ankle and you get pulled beneath the surface with no warning. 

You open your eyes, chlorine stinging them as you see Joel torpedo towards the shallow end of the pool. You give chase, breaking the surface with a gasp.

“You asshole–”

Joel cuts you off by wrapping an arm around your waist, tugging you close and tipping his head down to capture your lips with his. He kisses like a man starved and he tastes like sunshine and chlorine and the beer he’d been drinking as his tongue slides hungrily against yours. He uses his arm to press your body to his, but it’s not close enough.

You wrap your arms around his neck and lift your legs to circle his waist, your center grinding against his rapidly hardening length. Joel trails his hands up and down your back, stopping to grab rough handfuls of your ass as he groans against your mouth.

“Fuck,” he curses. “This little fuckin’ bikini has been torturin’ me all day.”

“Why don’t you just take it off then?” You offer. He pulls back to watch your face as his fingers find the strings of your bottoms beneath the water, giving both sides a quick tug until you feel the material fall away. His hand creeps up your back, pulling at the strings holding your top together around your back and neck until they, too, fall away.

Joel walks the two of you forward until your back collides with the rough stone of the pool wall.  He presses a muscular thigh between your legs, boxing you in with his body. Your hips jerk at the sudden pressure and friction against your bare pussy, a moan slipping from your lips as Joel presses kisses to your jaw and neck, nipping the delicate skin with his teeth.

“You gotta be quiet, sweetheart,” he murmurs against your skin, the deep timbre of his voice making a shiver dance down your spine despite the Texas heat. “Those sounds are just for me, isn’t that right?”

You nod your head quickly and he rewards you with another toe curling kiss. Your hips rock against his thigh and he swallows every little whimper as his hands explore your body.

“Joel,” you whine. His fingers pinch and pull your nipples before he soothes them with sweet circles of his calloused thumb.

“What’s the matter, baby?” He asks. One of his hands slides across your thigh and your breath hitches as he brings it dangerously close to your pussy before trailing it back down. “You need somethin’?”

“Need you to touch me.”

“That right? You want me to take care of that pretty little pussy?”

“Mhm,” you hum. “Please.”

“So polite. Where’s all that attitude from earlier, hm?” Joel asks, sarcasm dripping from every word. You narrow your eyes at him.

“I can be rude, Miller. You want that instead?”

“Trust me, I know, but I think I like you better when you’re beggin’ for me,” he replies with a grin. 

Joel’s hands grab onto your waist and he hoists you up onto the ledge. His broad shoulders press against the back of your thighs and his arms drape across your hips. He smiles at you, mouth tauntingly close to where you’re desperate for relief. You lean back on your elbows, the concrete warm against your bare skin and the sun washing over you.

“How about you show me those nice manners one more time?” He asks. 

You grit your teeth. “Joel, I swear to god I will go inside and lock you out–”

Your threats are cut off by your startled moan as he licks through your folds, broad swipes of his tongue from your fluttering entrance to your aching clit. His sweet brown eyes are sinful as he looks up at you from between your thighs, devouring your pussy like his last meal. His nose rubs against your clit each time his tongue dips inside of you and you’re quickly reduced to a writhing mess.

You shift your weight to one arm and reach down with the other to tangle your fingers into his hair. He moans appreciatively against your cunt, the vibrations making you keen. When your hips start to fight against his hold, his lips wrap around your clit, sucking and rolling it with his tongue.

“Fuck, fuck, just like that,” you babble, trying to keep your voice down as you balance right on the edge of your orgasm. He hums again, tongue swirling over your clit until that final thread snaps and you free fall into oblivion, fingers curling tightly against his scalp and making him groan as he works you through your release.

Your limbs go boneless in the aftermath and you collapse against the ground, an arm over your eyes to block out the sun. You hear the sound of water sloshing before Joel lays beside you on his back, arms beneath his head. He turns to look at you, his bright smile making your heart flutter in your chest. 

And when he extends an arm out for you to snuggle up against him, you can’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, Joel Miller isn’t such a bad neighbor after all.

“What do you mean you thought I was the asshole?!” Joel asks indignantly as he leaves your bathroom. He’s got a towel held up around his waist and you’re finding it hard to concentrate on his words at this exact moment.

You’ve just finished showering together after your outdoor activities, where you returned his poolside favor with some attention of your own. Now, you’re laying on the bed in your own towel, tired from the sun and the sex. 

You’ve also just admitted that you thought he was the worst neighbor. An asshole even. And now he’s looking at you like you’re insane.

“You stole my internet!” He exclaims. 

“You can’t prove that,” you reply, maybe a bit too quickly. He raises an eyebrow at you, but you refuse to back down.

“Fine, but you put all those twigs and shit on my porch.”

“They were from your tree, I was simply…returning your property.”

“And the cats?” He crosses his arms. “Because of you, my flowerbeds look like shit and I’ve lost two planters.”

“Not my fault they can sense you’re the weak link. They’re asserting their dominance. Hiss at them or something,” you say with a shrug.

Joel gapes at you. “You can’t be serious.”

“Look, it’s water under the bridge now, right? What can I do to make it up to you?”

He’s silent for a moment before a mischievous grin spreads across his face.

“Where’s that toy you bought, sweetheart?”

_________________

Joel’s got you on your back, your wireless vibrator placed snugly inside of your and against your clit. You’re glaring at him because he’s stopped you from another orgasm. He’s quickly becoming obsessed with that fire in your eyes and the curl of your lip when you’re mad at him.

He presses a trail of kisses from your ankle to the inside of your thighs, nipping the sensitive skin close to your pussy just to hear you gasp. He continues across your abdomen and your breasts, stopping to lavish attention to each sensitive nipple, your back arching against him for more.

“Joel,” you whine, squirming beneath him. He stretches up to capture your lips in a kiss, your lips dragging across his in the most addicting way. His cock slides against the smooth skin of your hip, making him groan. With a flick of his thumb, he turns the toy back on. “Oh, fuck!”

“Want you to come for me this time, baby,” Joel tells you. “Then I want you to come all over my cock, okay?”

You nod, back bowing and muscles straining as your writhe against the vibrations. Joel sits back on his heels to watch you, the way your mouth is dropped open in a silent shout and how your eyes find his at the exact moment you start to come undone.

“Oh my god,” you pant as Joel swiftly removes the toy, the pink silicone shiny with your release. He tosses it to the side and presses his cock to your fluttering hole, sinking inside of you with a deep groan. Your walls are still clenching with the aftershocks of your orgasm as he begins to thrust, slow and deep.

“Fuck, baby, you feel so fuckin’ good,” he growls. He uses a hand to press one of your knees closer to your chest, his fingers wrapped tightly beneath your knee. 

The change in angle gets him deeper and his pace grows faster in response to your moans. He can feel you start to pulse around him, each drag of his cock out of your cunt getting harder as your walls squeeze, desperately trying to keep him inside. 

“Touch yourself,” Joel commands. “Wanna see you come for me again, pretty girl, come on.”

Your fingers find your clit, swirling through the mess of slick coating your folds. Your eyes are glued to him as you work yourself to the same rhythm of his thrusts. He knows you’re close when your eyes start to flutter, your head dropping back against the mattress and your thighs going tight against his hips.

“That’s it, good fuckin’ girl, just like that,” he growls as you come with a shout of his name. “Christ, you look so damn good.”

You blink at him, your eyes hazy and your smile languid as he chases his own release, using your sensitive cunt for his pleasure. When it gets to be too much, too close, he withdraws, fisting his cock with rough strokes until he comes in thick splashes against your belly.

He collapses on the bed beside you, both of your chests heaving with deep breaths. After a moment, he uses one of the towels to wipe you clean, tossing it to the floor. You glare at him. 

“You better put that in the hamper later,” you admonish. He pulls you into his side. 

“So, why exactly did you think I was an asshole neighbor?” He asks. To his surprise, you blush, mumbling something he can’t make out. “What?”

“I said because you beat me at the Halloween decorating contest.”

“That’s it?”

“Yes. You have the twelve foot skeleton and I’m jealous.”

“I’ll get you as many skeletons as you want,” Joel laughs. You smile at him.

“Sounds good to me, big guy.”

_________________

The following Halloween, there are two twelve foot skeletons in the neighborhood, and they live right next door to each other.

Joel Miller taglist: 

@huffle-punk @johnwatsn @hopelessromantic727  @whereasport @pedr0swh0r3 @yellingloudly @dragon-of-winterfelll @thedeadsingwithdirtintheirmouths @mydailyhyperfixations @liati2000 @ghostofjoharvelle @cutesyscreenname @morgaussy @letsgroovetonighttt @endlessthxxghts @fake-bleach @brilliantopposite187 @mattmurdock1021 @str84pedro @justsomeoneovertherainbow @loquaciousferret @milly-louise @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @kirsteng42 @caatheeriinee07 @eternallyvenus @midnightswithdearkatytspb @evyiione @leeeesahhh @tloubarbie @afterglowsb-tch13 @loveliestofthoughts @theviewfromtheritz @brittmb115 @uncassettodiricordi @pedritosgfreal @adriennemichelle98 @mxtokko @gingersince97 @switchbladedreamz @casa-boiardi @tonysterco @rvjaa @ladymunson @sexpoisoned @trisaratops-mcgee @decemberdolly @spookyemorockbabe @reader-without-a-story @katmoonz @simping-soldat @mswarriorbabe80 @orphanbird95 @shatteredbaby @tusk89 @gingersince97 @mssbridgerton @internetobsessed1234-blog @sloanexx @manazo @bigboiseason123 @bean-is-reading @darlingpedro @silkiers @pascals-cat @bbyanarchist @therealcap @pedrosgrogu @dreamingofdaddydin

Want more Joel Miller? Check out my masterlist.

[mxlktxa]

ꜰᴏʀʙɪᴅᴅᴇɴ ᴛᴀꜱᴋꜱ

ᴘʀᴇ-ʙʀᴇᴀᴋᴏᴜᴛ

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ; ᴘʀᴇ-ʙʀᴇᴀᴋᴏᴜᴛ!ᴊᴏᴇʟ x ꜰᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴄᴡ; ꜱʟɪɢʜᴛ 18+ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ

⋆♱✮♱⋆⋆♱✮♱⋆⋆♱✮♱⋆

“Joel, sweetheart,” I whispered into his ear with a soft, comforting tone, lightly caressing him so he’d wake up, “we have to get up before Sarah wakes up. Don’t want her thinking I’m her step-mother, now do we?”

A low huff rumbled from the man beside me, arms stretching to pull me in to cuddle, tightening his grip as kisses were placed on my head in such a lazy manner. I found this interaction funny, attempting to escape his hold.

“Let her see us like this, I don’t care. She already calls you mom behind your back, it’s fine,” Joel nearly rolled on top of me while he spoke, his raspy voice almost muffled now.

“Well, get up in case she walks in and thinks you’re trying to kill me,” I said. With a slight chuckle, Joel rolled off of me, using his elbow for support to hover above me.

It was the morning after he had asked me over for the night since Sarah had felt a bit down. I came over to cheer her up and talk things out then Joel and I stayed up later to catch up on the crazy few weeks we both had. Now here we are, laying next to each other— surprisingly, still clothed and not hung over.

“That girl loves you like crazy, y’know,” his eyes wandered down to my neck and back up, “she asks me everyday about you. Wants to call and hang out everyday. All the time.”

“Oh, yeah?” Joel nodded at my response, grinning brightly, “then give her my number. If I don’t answer, I’m busy with work.”

“Or napping,” he added that comment, suddenly removing his elbow from below him and plopping down beside me.

“Yes, Joel. Or napping.”

I removed the covers from myself, sitting on the edge so I could stretch freely without accidentally bashing Joel. I stared at the open doorway, seeing a bit of a shadow by the frame, waving to get Joel’s attention. He sat up, noticing the same thing I had taken in observation, creeping up on his feet.

“You know, Joel,” I started, “Sarah might want some breakfast. What should we whip up?” we both crept towards the door, ready to scare and attack the little girl who was eavesdropping.

“Probably just some pancakes or french toast. We could make a strawberry millshake for her too.”

“A millshake?” I questioned, “at this time?” we reached the frame, ready to pounce on Sarah.

“Yeah, of course,” he chuckled, “it’ll be—,” we jumped out at her, the hall filled with screams and laughter, “fun!”

Sarah shrieked at the sudden greeting, pushing herself up the wall and holding her hands in front of her face. Joel and I went crazy with laughter, pulling her in for a hug.

“You guys are so not funny,” she snickered, “I could’ve died, you know!”

“Thankfully, you’re still with us, gorgeous,” she glanced at me with the largest smile and her eyes were overflowing with hysteria, “why were you listening in on us, hm?”

“I was bored! I’ve been up since seven and it’s now eight.”

“Wake us up next time. You don’t have to wait on us.”

“I was scared you two were… doing your ‘forbidden tasks’,” Sarah rolled her eyes as well as crossed her arms. I look to Joel with suspicious, yet annoyed eyes. He gave the same look, a nervous grin on his lips.

“Well we weren’t and how do you know about these ‘forbidden tasks’? You’re never home when it happens?” Joel let out a disturbed chuckle, scratching his neck as he side-eyed me.

“Uncle Tommy.”

The hallway fell silent. Joel and I stared down at Sarah who seemed as if she was looking at an astonishing entity, giving her an offer no one could ever think to refuse. She was ready to bolt, to pack all her things and move away.

We’ve told Tommy that we were messing around but told him to keep his mouth shut about it. Mainly due to the fact that we didn’t want Sarah to assume anything crazy. Granted it was awhile ago when I thought she disliked me but I would have appreciated him not slipping up.

“Let’s go get you breakfast, sweetheart,” I offered the little lady a big smile, turning to Joel to push him to the staircase.

“Do I still get the milkshake?”

“Yes, you still get the milkshake,” said Joel. An excited— barley audible, ‘sweet’ was all Sarah could respond with.

That morning, Joel and I spent about half an hour whipping up some breakfast for the three of us. Sarah was dying to help but it was always Joel and I seating her, wanting her relax since we decided that she was just going to be late for school and didn’t need to do much. We cooked up french toast with some eggs and made a little fruit salad for both her and I. Joel just had some coffee in place of the side us girls had.

Breakfast consisted of delighted, entertaining conversations, a bit of storytelling, Sarah and I ‘bullying’ Joel, and more. It was a nice little get together, Sarah officially calling me mom from this point forward, and Joel sitting back to watch us bond.

After we had all eaten, Sarah slipped off to get ready for school, Joel and I cleaning up the mini disaster we created in the kitchen. I gathered and did dirty the dishes, Joel wiped everything down and swept the floor.

Rough hands were gripping at my hips, a broad chest coming in contact with my back. I laughed at the subtle begging he gave, finishing up the last dish, putting it in the drying rack and turning to me Joel’s benevolent face. I could tell he wanted to both gush about how happy he is with Sarah and I but he also was silently begging to take me back to his bed.

“Joel,” I placed a hand on his chest and the other to his waist, “not now. Tell me what’s on your mind instead,” the urge to hop up onto the counter and just fuck around was undeniably tantalizing but we had to keep in mind that Sarah was home.

“I’m so happy you two are getting along,” his face hid in the crook of my neck, “I’m telling you, if you just move in right now, everything would be perfect for her. She’d grow up so happy.”

“Yes, Joel, I know,” I held back a soft groan as he bit and sucked on my neck, hand snaking around me and letting his lips meet mine. We both let our hands run around each other’s bodies, getting a little more heated by the minute, “Sarah’s home.”

“I’ll call Tommy to take her to school,” Joel huffed into my neck, picking me up to place me on the countertop and move on towards my collarbones.

“That’s just rude,” I joked, trying to stop the situation but only liking how much stronger Joel seemed when I fought back, “we can take her, it’s not a problem.”

“I just wanna go upstairs for a little.”

“Mm, then a little turns into an hour. An hour turns into two. So on and so forth, big boy,” I smirked into the kiss he gave me to shut me up, tugging at his shirt and whimpering a bit.

“Dad!” Sarah hollered, her voice trailing from the top of the staircase to the bottom. We both seperated ourselves, awkwardly clearing our throats and looking to Sarah who’s mouth was slightly open, shocked to have seen a milisecond of our little fun.

“Ready?” I questioned, wiping my bottom lip and hopping off the counter. Sarah only shook her head, coming to give Joel a hug and kiss on the cheek before taking my hand so we could leave, “we’re leaving him?”

“Uhm, yeah? We can have some girl time for a bit. You’ll be back soon,” she laughed, waving to Joel once again before we actually left the front door.

Girl time would be a little nice.

[buckyysdoll]

— 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 —

જ⁀➴ — • mini fic; slow dancing in the kitchen with joel. pre-outbreak! and x f!reader; cw: kissing, slight suggestive themes; inspired by: “wondering why”— the red clay strays.

MAIN MASTERLIST

The window, blinds not drawn, let in soft light from the street outside. The kitchen was dark, with that exception of orange; it was late Autumn now, the leaves already brown.

The steady hum of the refrigerator made for white noise as you moved, one arm round your husband's neck as you swayed softly on the spot. He wore simple clothes — a soft tee and sweatpants — and held you close to him, with one hand in yours and cradled to his chest, and the other held gentle at your waist.

He pressed a kiss to the crown of your head and you only clutched on to him tighter. Nothing else mattered right then but for this, for your husband. And he only ever saw you.

With the fingers of your hand curled against his neck, you felt the light hair at his nape — were relishing in it, in the steady feel of him, the way that his body pressed flush close to yours.

You found that truly, even after all this time, every touch still felt like the first.

It was so far from it. So far that you knew each other's bodies by heart; in the dark.

Today had been a rare day off for Joel, and you'd spent every hour at home. Staying in bed until two was a novelty he rarely had, so you'd sure spent it well. For the rest, for your evening together, it had been a date night with takeout and tv, while right now as you'd just been about to make tea —

Joel clearly had other ideas.

He'd come and wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, warm lips swiftly finding your neck. There was that sweet spot that only he found, and he did, just like always, with his smile in his voice. Along with it, those rough, broad hands came round to your stomach, clothed by his oversized shirt, and the weight of his arms at your middle was welcome. Was all that you needed to anchor you down.

Joel buried his face in the soft, curved juncture between your shoulder and neck; inhaled deeply as your sweet scent, heady and soft, was what grounded him, in turn. The scratch of his stubble pulled a laugh from your throat and his, the sound so deep and low - making you ache for this man, for your love, for how much he meant to you. He was your person.

Even still though, Joel didn't relent. He only kissed a slow line to the curve of your shoulder.

You turned in his arms then and kissed him, and his lips curved up against your own in a smile. It only spread further when your hands settled first at his waist, then roved up to grip his broad shoulders.

And they really were broad beneath that soft, grey material. He was solid, and so safe. He was everything.

Tea long forgotten, just five minutes later found you gently swaying to a slow song, one playing out from the radio set given to you just last Christmas by Tommy. It was an old thing - he called it "vintage" - so music it played came out just slightly fuzzed.

But what did that matter when you breathed in your husband's familiar smell on his skin, on his clothes?

You looked up at Joel, your heart so full that it caught in your throat. God, you loved him. Four years of marriage already and every day just brought you closer, more happy together. His deep warm eyes were twin homes fixed on your own, that you never wanted to stray from - as every day's worth of him knowing and loving you went into that one look.

You stood there, no longer swaying. You braced both your hands on either one of his cheeks. Again, that thick dark stubble was abrasive, though this time on your smaller hands, at your fingers.

It was a privilege to hold him like this, to be called his wife.Joel's wife. Mrs Miller.

He kissed you again as the rain pattered softly outside. You were safe. You were warm.

[jobean12-blog]

Nook of Love

Pairing: Pre!Outbreak Joel Miller x reader

Word Count: 1,806

Summary: Joel builds you something extra special and it's everything you've always wanted and more.

Author's Note: After writing about mob!Bucky buying you a bookstore I thought I do a version for my other fave guy- except his style haha. Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you sweet Daisy!

Warnings: it's so fluffy and soft and lots of kisses :)

Joel Miller Masterlist

“How are you gonna keep her outta the house for the next week?”

Joel narrows his eyes as he grinds his teeth together.

“I haven’t though that far ahead…” he mumbles.

“Of course not,” Tommy teases.

With a grunt of annoyance Joel reaches for more wood and lifts it into his pickup.

“Are you just gonna stand there and bitch or help me?”

Tommy ambles over with a raised brow. “You better figure out how you’re gonna see her because I’m not dealin’ with your extra grumpy ass for a week!”

Joel’s hands land on his hips and he shrugs. “I’ll just go to her place.”

Tommy scoffs. “Yeah ‘cause she won’t find that weird as fuck since you never go there. You know she likes it here better.”

“You know what, shut it Tommy. No one asked you,” Joel grits out.

Tommy smirks. “Well just don’t ask me to get involved in your bullshit when she starts askin’ questions!”

“Are you sure you want to come here again?”

You hear his sigh on the other end of the phone before he answers. “Of course darlin’…just need to see you.”

“I’m happy to come by you. I like your place better anyway,” you argue, hoping he hears the smile in your voice.

“I know but, I need a change of scenery. I’ll be there soon.”

When you hear the doorknob start to turn you fly off the couch, jumping into his open arms the moment he fills the doorway.

“Hey there darlin’,” he murmurs against your lips as his arms close tightly around you.

You kiss him softly then take his hand and start to pull him toward the couch.

“So how was your day? How’s Sarah? How’s the progression on that new building?”

You fire off your questions, only stopping when you feel him give you a tug. You look over your shoulder and he’s wearing a lopsided smile.

“Come ‘ere,” he murmurs before dragging you back into his chest and spinning you around.

He walks you slowly toward the wall, only stopping when your back gently bumps it.

“Aren’t you going to tell me about your day?” you ask coyly.

“Nuh uh,” he whispers, placing both his hands on the side of your head along the wall.

He pins you in place, pressing his hips closer. “I’d rather hear about your day.”

His lips trail along your jaw, stopping just under your ear where he places a soft kiss. He continues pressing kisses to your skin until he finds your mouth.

“That’s such bullshit and you know it,” you breathe against his lips.

You can feel his smile along your skin.

“Go on darlin’,” he whispers and runs his nose along your throat. “Tell me.”

“This is the third time it’s ringing Joel. You have to answer or she’s likely to show up here!”

Tommy holds out the phone and Joel takes it with a grumbled curse.

“Hey darlin’,” he answers then pauses to listen.

“I was in the bathroom,” he answers, waiting as you talk again.

“Actually, no. Must have eaten somethin’ bad for lunch.”

“How ‘bout I call you later and we can figure out our plans?”

He stares down Tommy as he listens to your concerned voice, wincing every now and then when he can tell you’re pouting and upset.

“It’s ok. I’ll be fine…NO!”

He immediately scowls after shouting out “no” and softens his voice. “I just don’t want you to be sitting around here while I’m in the bathroom the whole time.”

His head hangs and he pinches the bridge of his nose. “I promise. Ok, don’t worry. Love you too baby.”

“Shit that was painful to watch,” Tommy says when Joel hangs up and drops his phone. “You’re a terrible liar.”

“That’s because I would never lie to her!” Joel yells then his hands land on his hips and he sighs dramatically. “I should have had a plan in place for this.”

“AH HA!” Tommy yells triumphantly. “TOLD YA SO BROTHER!”

“Ah fuck off and quit standing around and help me. I need to get this done by tomorrow. No way I can keep this up another day!” Joel huffs.

Tommy snickers but marches over to help sand the wood, delighting in Joel’s continued grumbly mutterings.

When he opens the door you push past him and whirl around, hands crossed over your chest and glaring.

“Joel Miller if you don’t explain why you’ve been acting so weird the past few days…”

You step closer and poke him in his hard chest.

He grabs your finger and drags you into his arms.

“Everything will make sense in a few minutes,” he says quietly, his eyes searching your face.

You study him and your own eyes go wide.

“Are you nervous?” you ask as your lips lift into a small smile.

He looks taken aback. “ME?!?!”

His tone is incredulous. “No way darlin’. I’m fine. You just missed me yesterday is all.”

“Oh is that it?” you ask before blowing a raspberry. “I don’t see you for one day and now I’m imagining things...like the fact that you had food poisoning but feel perfectly fine now?”

Instead of continuing to argue he takes your face between his large hands and presses his lips to yours. After a few moments of kissing you senseless he gently releases you and rests his forehead against yours.

“Are you ready for your surprise?”

“THERE’S A SURPRISE!!” you squeal. “Why didn’t you say so!?”

Your excitement sets his nerves aflutter again and he wipes his palms on his jeans. “Ok…just promise…just promise me you’ll tell me what you really think…and you won’t pretend to like it just because…”

You reach for his hand and grip it tightly in reassurance. “I promise Joel…NOW HURRY UP! I can’t wait.”

You’re bouncing on your feet the whole time you follow him through the house and when you pass the living room he stops you and says, “close your eyes.”

You immediately shut them and squeeze them tight.

“Don’t peek.”

“I won’t!” you say excitedly.

He gives your hand a tug and carefully leads you into the next room, stopping after a few more steps.

“Ok…” he says on an exhale. “Open ‘em.”

Nestled into the back of the small room is something out of your dreams. A large window is framed by floor to ceiling dark wood shelves and just under it is a long and cushioned seat. There’s even a shelf above that goes horizontally and smaller shelves on the inside of the nook on either side of the seat.

“Now I know there aren’t many books yet and the details are missing but I figure you would want to pick out the curtains and pillows and Knick knacks and all that. I was going to do that myself but I didn’t think I should in case you wanted a theme or somethin’. Sarah said she would help but I told her you could take her when you shop and…”

You turn to face him, softly pressing your finger to his lips so he stops his nervous rambling.

“You built me a reading nook,” you state, your words breathy and light as air. “My very own reading nook.”

He nods and swallows audibly.

“Do you like it?” he asks quietly.

“Joel,” you start, pressing yourself against him. “This is the most beautiful gift ever. It’s literally a dream come true!”

His lips spread into a smile under your finger and you finally drop it, snaking your arms around his neck.

“I can change somethin’ if you want darlin’. If you don’t like the color of the wood we can stain it again or I can redo the shelving.”

You look back at the nook and step from his embrace to run your hands reverently over the polished wood, noting every curve and nuance.

“You made his with your own hands,” you murmur. “What could be more perfect?”

He comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around your middle and rests his head on your shoulder.

“I’m happy you like it.”

“I love it. LOVE. IT.”

“So that’s what I was up to this week. Tommy helped but only a little so…”

You laugh in his arms, pressing your hands over his to trace his knuckles. You slip your fingers through his and brush your thumbs over the calloused pads of his fingertips.

“Oh wait!” he says as he takes a few steps toward the nearby wall, still holding you tightly.

He flicks a switch and a long set of fairy lights brighten, adding the perfect soft glow to the books.

“Oh Joel,” you gasp. “You remembered.”

“Of course darlin’,” he answers.

You think back to the first night you spent together, lying skin to skin and completely wrapped up in him, talking for hours about your dreams for the future, including your love for fairy lights.

With watery eyes you move away and sit down on the cushioned seat, smoothing your hands lovingly over the plush fabric and leaning back until you can see the insides of the shelves. You lift shaky fingers and press your other hand to your mouth.

Hidden on one of the walls of the inside shelf is a carved-out heart with two initials inside of it. Your fingertips trace the deep lines before they close around the single book on the shelf.

“Our initials…Joel.”

He smiles softly at you.

“And how did you get my copy of my favorite book?” you ask him without looking up.

“I uh…” he begins sheepishly, “may have borrowed it the other night when I stayed at your place.”

“My place,” you repeat. “But this perfect nook is at your place and I won’t…”

Your thought trails off as you open the book and out slides a key tied to a ribbon.

“Is this what I think it is?” you ask with a shaky breath.

“It’ll be our place.”

You stare at the key in your hand and the back up at Joel.

“If that’s what you want darlin’.”

 Without warning you launch yourself off the seat and into his arms.

“Thank you,” you whisper over and over again as you nuzzle his neck. “And don’t worry I won’t tell anyone you’re such a romantic.”

You can feel his body shake with laughter. “Only for you.”

“I know,” you say softly before peppering his cheeks with kisses.

He closes his eyes contentedly.

“Where’s Sarah today?” you ask in between all the kisses.

“Stayin’ at her friends for the night.”

You grin and start to pull him toward the cushioned seat.

“That’s good,” you murmur.

“I thought so,” he answers with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Figured we could break in all the surfaces in your new place.”

“Mm hmm,” you hum. “Starting with my favorite spot.”

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