#pre-outbreak!joel

[wonwoosthetic]

Hi can you do anything that’s pre-outbreak of Joel and reader anniversary. It can be smut but the beginning can be Joel and Sarah planning the anniversary! I love their relationship so much

series masterlist

pairing – pre-outbreak!joel x reader

word count – 11.6k (this was supposed to be short and sweet... what happened...)

warnings – slight injuries, hospital scene but nothing major, cute smut (18+)

a/n – some more cute domestic joel stuff 🥺 with some smut hehe 😬 thank you for the request <3 I hope you like what I made with it ˙ᵕ˙ also just want to quickly take the time and thank you guys for all the love on my previous joel work, you actually made my app crash 😅🤭

Happy Anniversary?

2000

After Sarah had finished her homework at the Adler's place, she ran home and hopped onto the couch to enjoy some child-friendly TV - being stuck in a house with only people over sixty wasn't really her favourite way of spending her free time.

It didn't surprise her when her dad wasn't home at six. It also didn't surprise her when he wasn't there yet at seven. Around eight in the afternoon though, she started to wonder. The only way she could reach him was the landline, so she leaned over the armrest of the sofa to get a hold of the phone before dialling the number her father had made her know by heart back in kindergarten. It didn't even ring. The robot's voice immediately let her know that he was unavailable. With scrunched eyebrows and her lips pressed together in a tight line, she leaned back into the cushions.

There was one other person that would probably know where he was. You. Another number Joel had asked her to learn once he had noticed that things were getting serious between the two of you. The girl didn't need to wait for long before the familiar tone of your voice rang through her eyes.

"Hello?" Of course, you had the number of Joel's landline saved in your phone, but you didn't know who of the Miller household was calling.

"Hi, Y/N!"

"Oh, Sarah, hey! How are you?"

Sarah smiled, just like she always did whenever she got to talk to you. The relationship the two of you had built up over the past year she had known you, was something very special. Not only did she love the connection you, from one woman to another, but she truly felt like you had a close friendship she wouldn't want to give up. Ever.

"I'm good, thanks, how are you?"

You sighed, "Good… now that I'm home."

"Adult work isn't getting any more exciting?" She joked, making you chuckle.

"Exactly." A second of silence passed before you noticed nothing coming from her side. "Are you okay?"

Sarah made herself more comfortable on the couch, "Yup… sorry that I called you-"

"Don't worry, sweetie, trust me, hearing you right now has been the best part of the entire day."

Your comment made her grin even wider, "Well I'm happy to make your day better," to which you both giggled. "I was just wondering if you've heard anything from dad. Did he say he has to work late today?"

You let her question register in your brain before you went through the conversation you had with Joel last night since you haven't heard from today yet. "Ehm… no, I don't think he said anything about that. Isn't he home yet?"

Sarah shook her head before realising, you can't see her, "No, so I kinda thought, maybe he's still at work, but… now I don't know."

"Maybe something came up-"

"He isn't picking up." That made you go quiet. "I tried calling him, and it just went straight to his voicemail."

You bit your lip. Oh, God. You knew the stress of a parent not being at home at the usual time just all too well, remembering all the times it had happened to you as a kid and you immediately thought of the worst-case scenario.

"What about uncle Tommy?" You suggested.

The girl was just about to open her mouth and answer when the front door opened. Her head snapped to her left, eyes immediately on the familiar figure of her father entering the room.

"Wow…" she breathed out.

"What? What is it?" You hastily wondered.

"Speaking of the devil," you could hear the slight annoyance in her voice, "Guess who just walked through the door?" Joel sent her a questioning look as he walked further into the living room, throwing himself onto the couch, right next to his daughter.

You couldn't help but chuckle, "Hm… maybe your father, who once again decided to work longer and not tell us about it?"

"Mh," she grinned before turning to the man and shaking her head with a frown on her face.

A breath of relief fell from your lips as you got up from your position on one of the armchairs in your living room, "Well then, mystery solved. You better interrogate the heck out of him."

"Without you?" She gasped.

"Oh, trust me, he'll get a good talking-to from me tomorrow." Your answer received a grin from the girl, followed by a subtle devilish giggle.

"Good. Thank you for picking up, not like some other people here." Her comment was clearly directed to her father, earning her a soft shove to her upper arm, making her grin.

You smiled, "Anytime, sweetie. I guess I have to go back to my boring life now. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yep!" The happiness and excitement radiated off that little girl, lightning up the sparkle in her eyes at the mention of the following day. "See ya! Good night, Y/N."

"Good night, Sarah."

The youngest Miller placed the phone back on the side table, before turning to the oldest one, crossing her arms in front of her chest. She cleared her throat, "What do you have to say in your defence, Sir?" Her eyes followed his movements as he leaned back into the sofa with a groan, running a hand over his face.

"I forgot to tell you-"

"Oh, really!" She quickly exclaimed, interrupting Joel, receiving a warning glance from him, making her sulk back into the cushions.

"So as I was saying," he glanced at her, "I'm sorry that I forgot to tell you that I'd be in town after work. And I forgot to charge my phone."

Sarah scrunched her eyebrows, "What were you doing in town?"

Joel groaned, getting up to look for some food in the kitchen, "I wanted to get something for Y/N for tomorrow."

His answer made the girl laugh out loud as she got up to join him in the other room, sitting down at the dining table, "Are you serious?"

He looked up at her from his crouched position as he was trying to find something to eat in the fridge. "What?"

His daughter shook her head, "You're looking for an anniversary gift one day before your anniversary?"

Joel took out the container holding dinner from two days ago, grinning when it reminded him of you. Always making sure there was food in the house he lived in. You cared for him. And his daughter. "I've been thinking about what to get her for a few days, alright? But I haven't had the time to actually go and look for it," he defended himself, but it didn't get the look off the girl's face.

"And what did you find?"

He sighed, "Nothing. That's the problem."

"What are you gonna do now?"

"I have no idea…" Sarah could tell how exhausted he must be with the heavy breath leaving his lips. But the fact that he truly cared about getting you something special made her ecstatic. "You hungry?" Her father wondered, getting a shake of her head in response,

"I ate earlier." She shot up from her seat and skipped over into the kitchen, "So?! What are you gonna do?" Leaning on the counter, eyeing her dad suspiciously as he took a bite of the cold food with a fork. That also earned him a weird look from her, but he just wanted to get something into his stomach, not caring about the temperature - your cooking was gourmet to him in any way.

"I don't know," he answered, shrugging, "I can't believe I'm so fucking bad at giving gifts." Sarah ignored the swear word, blaming his fatigue, and didn't remind him of the swear jar you and her had brought into the house two months earlier.

"What did you gift her for her birthday?"

Tomorrow would be your first anniversary together.

A full years of being an official couple. While Joel was a romantic gentleman in every way possible, buying you flowers 'just 'cause', calling you sometimes multiple times a day 'just to hear your voice', keeping you in the house over the weekends and sometimes overnight during the week 'because he could never spend too much time with you', he still was a horrible gift giver - a fact no one could deny.

But more of a problem was your inability of receiving gifts. Because you hated it. You loved giving, hated receiving - not in all parts of life though. Especially not with Joel.

Though, whenever he had asked you what you wanted for your anniversary, birthday, or even International Woman's Day, he got the same answer each time: "I don't want anything." The truth was, you truly didn't. You've never been a big fan of material things, rather finding the thought behind something and a small gesture much more meaningful and loving. All the 'little' things your partner would do for you were enough - opening doors, carrying you whenever your feet hurt and taking you out for dinner on random days, were just a few of them. Yes, it may be the bare minimum, but still a rare minimum.

A rare minimum you had never been blessed with, with any of your past boyfriends. All until you met Joel and found out what it was like to have a true man by your side.

"That necklace you told me she'd like," he reminded her, brushing a hand over the wild curls he adored so much.

Sarah nodded with an open mouth, "Aaah, right right, I remember. She really did like that." They both nodded in sync. "But do you know what she loved even more?" Making the oldest Miller's head perk up,

"What?"

His daughter grinned at him, "The poster I made for her."

"True," he couldn't help but copy her facial expression, "She did like that a lot."

"She LOVED it!" Sarah shouted out, hitting her palms on the top of the counter, "She almost cried when she saw it," followed by giving her father a side-eye look, "She only said thanks to your gift, but she had tears because of mine."

Joel glanced at her, one eyebrow raised, "What are you tryna tell me?"

"Y/N loves me more than you," she flipped an invisible strand of hair to underline her comment.

The older man smiled, "Sure."

"Buuut," she dragged out the word, leaning over to steal a piece of broccoli from the container Joel was eating out of, "I also think that she would just appreciate self-made stuff more than things you can buy."

He stopped for a second to think before nodding his head, "So you're suggesting that I what? Build something?" Sarah nodded. "And what exactly?"

"Man, what do I know… You're the contractor here." But all he could do was sigh. He was in fact the contractor, but what the hell had that something to do with anything. The man put the food to the side to make some space and place his elbows on the counter, shoving his face into his two palms, groaning out loud.

The daughter of the family stood by his side, staring at him in amusement, finding this situation much funnier than her dad. With a chuckle, she passed him placing a somewhat comforting hand on his back.

"You're a lousy gift giver." Her comment though was anything but comforting.

He straightened his back to glare down at the girl, "Thanks." But it just got a giggle out of her.

After a quick glance around the room, the idea she had been holding in, as it was supposed to stay a secret present from her to the couple, came back up into her brain. "We could bake something for her."

That caught his attention. Joel didn't hate the idea. He definitely didn't. Your sweet tooth was known to the family, added to your appreciation and love for self-made gifts turned it into the perfect present.

"We?"

Sarah scoffed, "You really think I'd trust you with baking a cake?"

"Hey," he took her statement as an offence, "I'm doing very well in the kitchen." He didn't even believe that himself.

"Pff," she patted his back once again, "Sure, dad. Sure."

"I'm a great cook, alright?" he took it one step further, but his daughter was having none of it, giggling at him while shaking her head,

"You're an okay cook and a terrible baker."

He took the last bite of what was left in the plastic box before moving to put it into the dishwasher. "You can't be serious right now…"

Moments like these were Sarah's favourite. Watching her dad get all rilled up just never failed to make her chuckle. Joel enjoyed it just as much. The happiness radiating off her, with a beautiful and bright smile decorating her face, was a sight he never wanted to lose. "Uncle Tommy's a better baker than you," she quickly added before sliding past him to find the fitting cookbook on the shelf in the living room.

Joel's head shot into her direction, a finger pointing at her before she disappeared, "You take that back!" Her high-pitched giggles filled his ears with love and joy.

-

Sarah's feet were dangling off the counter while she was snacking on some of the sprinkles she wanted to put on the cake, along with taste-testing the pink sugar writing. Her father was preparing the frosting, every now and then checking on the cake in the oven, making sure it wouldn't burn because that was the last thing he needed.

They were sharing a few moments of comfortable silence in the room, whereas the girl's mind was filled with questions, daring to slip out any second as she didn't want to hold them back for much longer.

"So, Y/N's coming over tomorrow?"

Joel nodded with a whisk in the bowl, covered in blue-greenish frosting Sarah had coloured, "Yeah, I'm picking her up from work, and I'd bring her here," he looked up, "If that's okay with you."

"Of course," his daughter chuckled, putting the sprinkles down, freeing her hands so she could place them on the counter. She puckered her lips, thinking carefully about her next question. As much as she thought of a way to introduce the subject, she couldn't think of one, so she just jumped into the cold water.

"Do you wanna marry Y/N?" The words made Joel stop in his tracks, his eyes shot up to meet hers.

He sent her a questioning glance, "W-Where's that coming from?"

She shrugged, "I was just thinking. You know… you've been together for a year… and you seem happy-"

"We are," he assured her.

"And don’t adults think about getting married? When they’re happy."

He stood up straighter to lean onto the counter, crossing his arms, leaving the work on the frosting on the side for a bit. "Aren't you a little too young to be thinking about marriage?"

"For me? Yeah," she scoffed, "Because boys? Disgusting," getting a proud smirk for father as a response, "But I mean for you two… I don't know… I was just wondering."

Joel sighed, getting back to work, "Well… I mean, you ain't wrong, sweetheart. But there's a lot of things you need to do before you get married or even think about proposing."

"Like moving in?"

"Sure," he nodded, "Some couples move in before they get married. It's not the traditional way, but as we know, traditional is boring." She copied his head movements with a grin plastered on her face.

"Then why not ask her?" Sarah tilted her head and raised her eyebrows as soon as she locked eyes with the oldest Miller again.

"What do you mean?"

"Ask her to move in."

Joel chuckled in surprise, the spit in his throat almost making him joke, "You sure have some interesting suggestions today, kiddo. You alright? Do I have to be worried?" His facial expression made her laugh out loud as she nudged him with her foot, making him squirm away jokingly.

"Nooo, dad! I'm just saying," she motioned around with her hands,

"You've been together for a while… and… she's already spending every weekend here and sometimes comes over during the week. She makes sure we eat," Joel nodded along with all of the things his daughter was listing, "She takes care of me and you, she already has some of her stuff in your drawer-"

"How do you know about that?" She grinned sheepishly at him, "I saw it when I went through your stuff…"

The father took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a second, "Alright… how about we don't do that anymore?" Eyeing the little girl sitting on the counter to his left, but she just shrugged,

"You said we shouldn't keep any secrets from each other."

He sighed. Fuck. She wasn't wrong. "You're right… I did say that." Goddamn, always smarter than any other adult in the room. That was his little Sarah.

"So, are you gonna ask her?"

After tasting the frosting and checking its consistency, he gave the girl the whisk, just like he saw you doing it multiple times before. She accepted it with a bright smile.

Joel enjoyed having conversations like these. Obviously, he understood that she was still a kid, and he would never deny her of her innocent mind and easy-going-with-the-wind mindset, but he also appreciated the slightly more adult talks they could share. That's why he was more than happy to explain it to her.

"It's not as easy as you think it is, kiddo. Y/N still has an apartment. One that she shares. So, we’d have to talk about that first. And there's a lot of document stuff we'd have to get-"

"I asked her," she caught his attention when he came back up to stand up straight from looking at the cake through the oven window.

"What?"

"I asked her if she would like to move in with us. Not like actually, but just, you know, the idea of it."

Now Joel became interested. Of course, the two of you had had the conversation about a shared home before, but every couple had that at some point in their relationship. Hearing what you'd think about the idea now would have maybe changed. Now it was more relevant than ever, apparently.

"And," he looked down at his fingers, "What did she say?"

Sarah smirked, "She said the same thing as you just did. So really a match made in heaven," and rolled her eyes jokingly, "But she also said that she'd really like the idea… if I was okay with it."

"And? Are you- I-I mean, would you?"

"Of course! Are you kidding me?! I love her so much! Probably even more than you-"

"I doubt that."

"I don't," she stated straightforwardly, "And you're happy when you're with her, and you make her happy. What more you could want? AND thanks to her, the weekends aren't so boring anymore."

"What was wrong with the weekends before?" He was slightly taken aback by her comment, unsure if it was meant ironically or not. But then again, he was probably overthinking a lot at that moment.

Sarah smiled, "Don't get me wrong, dad. I loved the weekends with you and uncle Tommy, but having another woman in the house is just…" She shrugged, unsure of how to explain just how comfortable you made her feel. Joel and her were open about a lot of things, but Joel was… well, he was your typical single Texanian-dad, that didn't know what to do in certain female-focused situations - let's just put it like that.

Having conversations from woman to woman was something the father appreciated very much when it came to what you brought along when getting to know his kid. And the girl was happier than ever, being finally able to talk to an older person about certain struggles she might encounter that were still slightly too embarrassing to discuss with her dad.

"It's different, I know. I understand," he smiled at her.

"It's good different though," she nodded, "I really like her."

"And you'd be okay with her living here?" He finally asked. Sarah was the reason for his still-intact heartbeat. The only thing having kept him alive so far. Now you had also joined to share that position, but he was still his blood, and you'd never even try to get in between that.

"More than okay," she exclaimed, "I'd be SO happy to have her here constantly. I'd finally have someone against you."

Joel squinted his eyes at her, "Because Tommy isn't enough already?" Receiving a smug smile in return.

He shook his head with a chuckle when the timer went off, indicating that the cake was finally done. Sarah hopped off the counter to stand back on her two feet when her father leaned down to get the cake out of the oven and placed it on the stove.

"You know," he threw the dishtowel he used to not burn his hand to the side before turning to face the girl, "You might be a bit too smart for a kid your age."

The youngest Miller crossed her arms proudly, holding her chin up high, "Thanks, I got it from my uncle." That just made Joel look at her in surprise, almost making her laugh out loud.

He put on his low dad voice, "You got that from your father, thank you very much."

She dropped her hands, "Whatever," and moved a bit closer to stand right next to him, "So will you ask her tomorrow?"

"Yes," he promised her, "I will ask her tomorrow." To which she started bouncing up and down, her body full of excitement, making Joel chuckle and pull her in for a side hug and gift her a kiss on the top of her head.

She clapped her hands, "Now, let's start decorating."

-

You were running -scratch that - Sprinting through the hospital corridors, desperately trying to find the info point a nurse had told you to go to.

You had never crossed town at the speed you just did. Once the message from the other side of the call registered in your brain, you dropped everything at work, ignored the calls from your boss, just shouted a quick, "Family emergency," and raced to catch the next possible bus.

With a big breath shooting out of your lungs, you came to a halt once you came to sight with the hotspot you were looking for. You braced yourself up with your palm, trying to catch your breath before you spoke up, "Hi, sorry, I'm looking for Joel Miller. He's supposed to be in a check-up room."

The nurse looked up at you, surprised by the sound of urgency in your voice. She was quick to type the name into her system, but it felt like hours for you. Your legs were nervously shaking, barely able to hold you up anymore.

She opened her mouth, making you stare at her, eyes widened, "Room 293, down the hall on the right." You were just about to thank her and continue your race but she continued, "He's just got done with the medical exam, but I'd ask you to please wait outside until a doctor comes and approves of him accepting visitors."

Fuck that. You muttered a quick thanks before your legs took you where she explained the room would be.

If they really thought you'd wait for a fucking doctor to allow you to see your boyfriend you expected to be in the worst possible condition, they were wrong. Very wrong.

Hectically, your eyes scanned each number plate on the side of the doors as you tried to find the right one.

290… 291… 292… 293! A sigh of relief washed over you. You got closer to the door, glancing to the left and right, just to make sure there was no one that could see you walk in before you knocked three times. A quiet, "Yeah?" rang through your ears and you didn't wait for another second to open the door.

Your eyes immediately fell to the man sitting on the examining bed. He was alive. At least he looked like it.

"Y/N?"

Out of breath, you tried to speak, "Joel… w-what the fuck?!" He couldn't even open his mouth. "Are you out of your goddamn mind? What the- what the hell happened to you?!" You got closer to him, your fingers coming up to gently touch his chin, turning his head to look at the small scraps next to his eyes. You noticed the bandage on his forehead, guessing he must've gotten stitches there, only making you sigh again.

Joel got a hold of your hands, holding them close to his chest as he tried to calm you down, "Sweetheart… I'm okay," he brushed some wild hairs that were covering your face, to the side, "I'm alright."

"No," you shook your head, already feeling your throat close up, "Look at you."

"This is nothing, I promise."

While his right hand held onto yours tightly, the palm of his left one ran up and down your lower arm. You shrugged out of his grasp to hide your face behind your hands as soon as you could feel the first tears rolling down your cheeks. Your fingers pressed into your eyes.

"You scared the shit of out me," your voice was not much more than a whisper, but the room was quiet, so Joel was able to hear you clearly. He pushed himself off the bed, standing up in front of you to engulf you in a warm hug when he noticed your brittle voice and your whole body shaking.

His low voice tried to calm down your soft cries as he pressed your head into his chest, ignoring the slight pain in his ribs, remembering the big bruise that was forming there. "I'm sorry, darlin'," he whispered, "I'm sorry. But I'm okay. I promise." He moved his hands from brushing over your back to cupping your cheeks, his thumbs caressing your skin, wiping away the wet stains your tears left. "I'm alive," he grinned at you, but you just shook your head.

"You're a fucking idiot, Miller," pushing a finger into his chest, getting a subtle groan out of him, making you flinch back immediately, "What?" Your eyes hastily ran over his body, "You're hurt there too."

You tried to push his shirt up, but he stopped you, placing his hands on top of yours, "No no, don't worry. Just hurts a little."

You couldn't help but to sigh again. That man was going to be the death of you. With a few steps back, you distanced yourself from him, sitting down in one of the chairs by the desk across from the bed. Carefully, Joel sat back on top of the bed. Your eyes scanned his form as you noticed the hiss he was trying to hold back, his lips pressed together tightly.

You shook your head and closed your eyes, lowering your head.

"Did Tommy call you?"

You scoffed, "Obviously."

"Did you call Sarah?" To which you motioned a 'no' to him.

"You don't need two women in your life to have a heart attack," you explained, "And I didn't know what to tell her. Tommy just said there was an accident on the construction site, and you're in the hospital. I didn't even let him finish. I sprinted out of the office." Your story made him chuckle, but he noticed your still anxious and tense body.

"He brought me here just to make sure everything was alright. I wasn't hurt badly. No one was."

You looked up to meet his eye, "Joel, you got stitches!"

He shrugged, "Not the first time, not the last time."

"Why would you say that?!" You stared at him unamused, your mouth open. Taking a deep breath in, your hand brushed through your hair while you let your eyes travel around the room. You hated hospitals. You had yet to have a positive experience in one of these buildings. The silence that overcame the room was choking. But you weren't in the mood to say anything else, nor did you know what to even say, and Joel could read you like the back of his hand. He knew he scared you. He hated it, so he was the first to break the stillness.

"Happy Anniversary."

You raised your head, finding him grinning at you shyly, making you shake your head, "Don't. This isn't funny." He nodded, understanding what was going on in your head. Another moment of silence filled the room.

"I'm sorry. I know this isn't the way you expected to spend our anniver-"

"I couldn't care less about the anniversary, Joel!" You exclaimed in frustration, "I- I thought you were-," you stopped before you could get choked up again, not even wanting to dare to say out loud what was going on in your head when you answered Tommy's phone call. "God knows what could've happened to you!"

"Come 'ere," he nodded you over, but you shook your head,

"Joel-" you were stopped by the motion of his hand for you to come closer. The man was already hurt, you didn't have to add to that. With a sigh, you stood up, leaving your bag on the chair next to you, before walking up to him again. The oldest Miller leaned forward to grasp your hand and pulled you closer, even getting a soft smile out of you.

His hand rested on your hips as you stood between his legs while you intertwined your fingers behind his neck.

"I'm sorry for scaring you, darlin'. I promise I'll be more careful."

"You better," your finger slid through his hair as you noticed the look in his eyes while he was staring at you. His right hand found its way to the back of your neck, pulling you down to finally do what he had been wanting to do all day. His lips moved against yours as you could feel him smirking before he pulled back slightly.

"I'll make it up to you tonight." You looked into his eyes in confusion, but only for a second before you moved your head back with a gasp.

"Joel!" You smacked his shoulders gently, "You're sitting on fucking a hospital bed, how could you think about sex right now?" He just continued grinning, his hands moving all over your body, keeping his eyes on yours, "How could I not with you in front of me."

A chuckle escaped from your lips followed by a shake of your head, "You're unbelievable." You got pulled closer again, his lips smashing against yours.

"Unbelievably in love with you." Earning himself a giggle and a quick peck from you.

Your fingers softly grazed the skin of his cheek, careful not to touch any of his injuries as you smiled, "Happy Anniversary, Joel." He couldn't help but to copy your facial expression, keeping you as close to him as he possibly could.

-

You drove the two of you home after the oldest Miller had gotten released from the hospital, and Tommy had already made his way back to his place. Joel was definitely moving slightly more carefully, but he assured you he was a-okay - you didn't fully believe it, but it wasn't worth a discussion.

After parking the car in the garage, you made your way into the house through the backdoor. Joel opened it for you to walk in first, just like he always did. You gave him a quick, "thank you," and stepped in before you stopped in your tracks, a high-pitched voice surprising you with a loud,

"HAPPY ANNIVERSARY!"

"Oh, Jesus!" Your hand flew up to your chest, your breathing quickening as you took in the scene in front of you. Sarah was beaming at you with her bright smile, a pink poster with big letters staring directly at you.

You started laughing, "God, you scared me, kid."

Joel stopped behind you, laughing at the sight. She ignored your exclaim, running up to wrap her arms around your torso, making you do the same around her shoulders. You pulled her in, placing a kiss on the top of her head. "You really are just the cutest," pulling back to look at her, petting her cheek, "Thank you, sweetie."

She gave you another quick grin before moving on to her father, doing the same to congratulate him, when she noticed the cuts on his face.

"What happened to you?"

Joel shrugged, a hand brushing over her hair, "Just a little accident at work. Nothing to worry about."

You moved further into the house, placing your bag on one of the dining chairs. Your eyes took in the room, holding your gaze once again on the poster Sarah had clearly self-made. She had placed it on top of the table before she had rushed over to the two of you, so you were able to run your fingers over the little stones and glitter patches she had glued on. You remembered the sign you had gotten from her only a month ago.

"You outdid yourself this time, Sarah," you turned to her when you noticed she had come to stand next to you, "It's so cute."

"Thanks," she radiated her happiness on you. "And look!" She skipped into the kitchen, making your gaze follow her when she pointed to the counter when you saw what got her so excited.

You started giggling. On the countertop sat a turquoise-coloured cake, with white frosting details on the side on pink hearts decorating the top of it.

"Oh my god!" you exclaimed, "Awww, did you do that yourself?"

She shrugged with a smile, "Dad helped me." To which Joel got closer to you two, his eyebrows scrunched in confusion,

"I thought you helped me." His arm snaked around your waist.

"Well," she answered him, "You thought wrong," sending him a sheepish grin that made you chuckle.

You opened your arms to get her into another hug, tightening your arms around her just a little tighter than before, "Well, I appreciate it a lot. Thank you, sweetie. I love it." Your eyes may have gotten a little glassy, but you were able to hold it back, not wanting to surprise them with a gush of happiness.

Joel next to you cleared his throat, gaining all the attention of the room. You released Sarah from your grasped and wrapped your arms around your partner's waist. "And thank you to you too, of course," smiling up at him as he looked down. You puckered your lips, making him smirk and lower his head to meet your mouth, giving you a quick peck.

Sarah interrupted your small moment of love when she called out, "Okay, let's eat!"

All three of you followed her orders and sat down around the dining table after grabbing plates, forks, and a knife to cut the cake. While your eyes were on Joel, who was giving each one of you a good slice, you also noticed the little girl next in the middle of the two of you, happily clapping drumming her hands on the surface, that smile of hers never leaving her face.

It was in moments like these when you truly thought to yourself what you could have possibly done in your past life to deserve people like them in your life. A boyfriend that would carry you to the ends of the world, in whose arms you felt safer than anywhere else, along with a wonderful daughter that looked at you as if you were the reason for the stars lighting up the sky.

You enjoyed the sweet dinner, easily falling into a comfortable conversation like you usually would. Sarah told you about her good day at school, bragging about the grade she had gotten on her chemistry exam, earning her a round of applause from you and a kiss on her cheek from her father. Joel and you talked about your workdays, leaving out the time you had spent in the hospital. He was fine, that's all you cared about.

After the meal, you brought all the dirty dishes into the kitchen, loading up the dishwasher, Joel placed the cake back into the fridge, and Sarah was put in charge of choosing a movie to let the evening come to an end.

Her choice fell on Jurassic Park, knowing how much the oldest in the house loved the movie, and after getting a nod of approval from you, she put it into the DVD player, telling you to hurry up and join her on the couch.

Joel and you sat down on either side of her before the girl made herself comfortable and laid her head on your lap while resting her legs on her father's. Automatically, your hands found their way to her head, brushing through her unruly hair you always complimented.

This position allowed Joel to come just a little bit closer, lifting his daughter's legs to slide over to you, pulling your head to lean on his shoulder and copying your actions to start patting your head as well. Not even forty minutes later, the soft snores and even breaths from the little girl accompanied the sounds coming from the TV. You looked down with a chuckle.

"What?" Joel wondered, "Did she fall asleep?"

"Yeah," you smiled, eyeing him suspiciously once he stood up with a groan,

"Finally." He crouched down slightly, moving one arm underneath Sarah's knees, while his other one steadied her neck. He straightened his back and pointed a finger at you, "You stay here. I still have something to make up to you."

Getting a giggle out of you, "Joel!"

"I mean it!" He shout-whispered at you before disappearing upstairs.

You brought your knees up, hugging them to your body when you remembered the little gift that was still hidden in your bag. With a soft huff, you pushed yourself off the sofa and walked over to the dining room the snatch your bag off the chair.

"Darlin', where- oh, there you are," Joel found you with your back turned towards him, rummaging through your back when he crept up on you and placed his hands on your hips once he got close enough. His lips immediately latched onto your neck, peppering it with kisses, making you giggle.

"Stooop," you laughed, leaning back into his chest.

"What are you doing?" He wondered as you turned around, your hands hidden behind your back.

You grinned up at him, "I've got something for you."

"You do?" His eyebrows shot up, "Why? Having you here is already enough," he didn't even wait for a response from you, just saw you rolling your eyes, making him chuckle as he pulled you in for a quick kiss.

You were first to retrieve back, receiving a low whine from him in return, to which you shook your head with a smile. "May I give you your gift now?"

Joel stood up straighter and put his hands out, palm up, in front of you, closing his eyes along the process. Without wasting another second, you placed the little box into his grasp. He opened his eyes again, looking suspiciously at the packaging, shaking it slightly,

"What is it?"

"You really expect me to tell you instead of just opening it?"

He smiled, "Alright, alright."

You could hardly contain your excitement as he ripped the paper off the box, throwing it onto the table behind you. As soon as Joel opened it, his eyes shot up to find you grinning right at him.

"Darlin'…"

"Sarah told me you've been looking for one," you explained, "But she also said that you never take the time to go downtown and look for one. So, I thought, I'd just save you the stress."

His fingers ran across the rounded edges of the watch in the box. It looked expensive, that's for sure.

"You didn't have to do that, sweetheart," he spoke quietly, still in awe of the present worth so much more than just money in his hands.

You shrugged, "I know, but I wanted to."

Joel took it out of its packaging, putting that to the side as well before wrapping it around his wrist. Your fingers came to help, closing the little buckle so it fit him perfectly.

He couldn't take his eyes off the watch, "Thank you, darlin'," but you were a much better sight to him, "I love it," so he pulled you in again, "I ain't never taking that off ever again."

Your hands found their usual place on the back of his neck again as you kissed him back, whispering against his lips, "I'm glad you like it. Happy anniversary."

"Happy anniversary," he mumbled back, giving you a peck before sliding out of your embrace, "Well, I guess it's time for me to give you your present now?"

"Joel," you whined, "I told you, I don't-"

His hand stopped you before he exited the kitchen and came back only seconds later, his hand in a tight fist. You waited patiently for him to open his mouth again, even though you were anything but that.

He stopped in front of you, raised his arm and let what he was holding drop down while holding onto what looked like a key ring.

"What is it?" You reached out to grab it, laying it flat against your palm to analyse it. A key. Attached to a pendant representing three figures, a figure that was supposed to be a man, next to a woman, who then again stood next to the same figure just in small.

"The key to my heart?" He jokingly answered, making it sound more like a question, making you look up.

"Ha ha," you rolled your eyes. Always the romantic…

Joel took a deep breath before clearing his throat, "I mean… I guess it kinda is, but ehm… it's a housekey." You had to tear your eyes away from the object in your hands once again once your brain registered what he had just said.

"What?"

"So," he started explaining, his hands immediately on your hips again, "I was racking my brain over what I could give you today. But I just couldn't think of anything. Because honestly… I didn't think there was anything in this world that I could buy you, that would show you just how much you mean to me."

"Don't make me cry," you quickly intervened, making him chuckle as he placed a soft kiss on your cheek,

"I'll try," and put a strand of hair behind your ear. "Yesterday Sarah, the way too smart for her own good kid, that she is," the description made you smile, "got the idea of baking something for you because she said you value that a lot more than bought stuff." He had to take another deep breath before continuing, "And then while we were preparing the cake… you know her, she started asking all those questions until we landed on the whole moving-in thing." Throughout the whole speech, you listened attentively to your partner, keeping your eyes on him the entire time even while his drifted around the room. "Since you already spent the weekends with us and are here every now and then during the week, she asked me why you're not living with us yet."

"And your answer was?" A smug smile made its way onto your lips.

"Do you want the truth or what I told her?"

"The truth, please."

Joel's eyes followed his hands as they ran up and down your sides, "That her dad hasn't had the balls yet to ask his girlfriend." You shyly looked down back to your hands. At the little charm.

He noticed where your attention was and pointed at it, "Sarah picked that up today after school." Of course, she did… You could feel the tears coming back up. God, that girl was just too pure for the world…

"So?" His voice made you meet his eyes again, "What do you say? Can you handle three Millers under one roof?"

You pretended to think, playing with the lips he so desperately wanted to feel on his again, "It won't be easy."

He grinned, "That's not a no." You dropped the key onto the table behind you before your hands went back around his neck, pulling him in close enough for your lips to almost touch. You could feel his grip on your hips tighten.

The corners of your lips curled up, "That's because it's a yes," pecking his lips, "I'll take good care of you."

His left hand travelled to your lower back, "And we'll take good care of you too," he repeated giving you multiple little kisses, making you laugh. Oh, God how much he loved that sound. And now he would be able to hear that every single day. "Now, how about I stick true to that promise I made earlier?"

You nodded, breathing against each other's mouths, "Yeah, please do." And he didn't need to be told twice.

With one swift move, you were put onto the table, before he situated himself between your legs. His hands cupped your cheeks, pulling you as close as possible. You moved yourself slightly forward, letting a moan escape from your lips when you felt his tongue glide across your bottom lip.

Opening your mouth wider, gave him the opportunity to slip in, earning a deep groan from the man in front of you. Your fingers started playing with the hem of his shirt, signalling for him to pull back and pull it up as you helped him along with it, dragging him onto you the moment it came off - eyes immediately on the dark bruise forming on his ribs.

"Joel…," you gasped, reaching out to touch the dark spot, but he got a hold of your hand, bringing your knuckles up to his lips,

"It's nothin', darlin', don't worry about it." You could worry about the truth in his statement tomorrow, for now, you wanted to get him back on you, so you smashed your lips back onto his.

He chuckled, "Someone's eager," he started trailing kisses down your neck.

"Well, someone made me think about this for hours," you grabbed his face to bring him back up to you. You could never get enough of the touch of his lips. You would drown in it if you could. You wouldn't even care if you couldn't breathe anymore, it would be a happy death.

"And that someone is gonna make sure you won't be able to think at all for the next few hours," he whispered as his right hand slipped underneath your shirt, his thumb tracing over your bra.

You couldn't help the shake in your voice, "Hours? I think you're getting a little ahead of yourself, Miller." Knowing damn well that he wasn't. You had the privilege of getting the house to yourself every now and then or having had some alone time in your apartment. If he wanted to, he could go on for hours and hours. But you'd be lying if you said you didn't enjoy rilling him up just a little bit.

He scoffed, pulling your shirt over your head easily, "Sure, keep saying that. Keep talking while can." He knew what he was doing to you with those words.

His hands roamed your almost naked torso, cupping your still-covered breasts into his big hands, making you moan into his mouth.

You could feel that gentle touch of his on your body before it stopped on your ass, pulling you closer to him as he mumbled, "Come 'ere. Let's go upstairs."

You were held up tightly against him as he carried you up into the first floor, taking a sharp left to get you both into his, well now your, bedroom. Your bedroom. From now on, this was the room you'd be sharing with your partner. God, what a good time to be alive…

Once you had reached the bed, Joel slouched over, making sure to place you onto the mattress gently.

There were two sides to Joel Miller when it came to sex. You were very familiar with both. There was the soft side you adored so much. When he took his time with you, kissing every inch of your body, working you up just right, adoring your body and covering it with pure passion. His thrust would be slow and deep, gentle, yet just filled with the same amount of lust as his other side. The alter ego, as you'd like to think of it was fast-paced, hard, yet never too short, sex. Still very passionate, but loud and messy. Bruises weren't a rarety after a night like that. And while that was what you understood when thinking of sex, you adored love-making just a little bit more when the time was right. Just like at that moment.

His kisses moved from your neck, down between your breasts, along the middle of your torso, holding onto it tightly, until he reached the rim of your jeans. His fingers got to work on your button, opening it along with the zipper, before getting up slightly to free your legs from them, sliding them down as he started kneeling on the floor. Down at your ankles, he pulled them off completely, getting rid of your socks as well before starting his journey of kisses back up again.

You squirmed more and more the higher he came up, making him have to move his hands to your hips to hold you down and pull you closer to the end of the bed to reach your inner thighs.

"Ah, fuck baby…," he moaned in between kisses, "So. Fucking. Beautiful."

You were brushing some hair out of your face, heavy breaths leaving your lips. You didn't even dare to look down, knowing you'd probably only get closer to coming right then and there with the sight. "Joel, please…" you whined.

"I know, I know, darlin'," he continued admiring your thighs with his lips before hooking his fingers into the side pieces of your underwear. He noticed which ones you were wearing.

"You know," he gave them a kiss too, right onto your pelvic bone,

"These are my favourite."

You chuckled, "Of course, I know. Why do you think I put them on?"

"Well, but then it wouldn't be right of me to just take them off right away, now would it?" He smirked letting go of the fabric and prepping your legs up on the mattress. His lips moved down to the centre of your pussy, placing a gentle kiss right where you wanted him, sending a shiver through your entire body along with a shaky breath tumbling from your lips.

Once again, his finger hooked underneath the fabric of your underwear, only this time, pulling the centre piece to the side, giving him a clear view of your sex, clearly glistening even in the dim light coming from the moon outside.

He didn't let another moment pass before he covered your slit in little kisses, his hands having a tighter grip on you once you started moving again. You were still enjoying the soft feather touches of his lips on yours when you suddenly felt the tip of his tongue running over your clit, getting a low moan out of you. You had to remember there was still a little girl in the room across from you - too much noise would eventually wake her up and you were not ready to have that kind of confrontation with her yet.

"Ah… Joel…" you breathed out, your fingers tangling around his hair, pulling slightly once you felt his tongue movements quicken and deepen.

He slipped around your clit, running it down to your hole before drawing circles around there as well. As soon as he was up again, gently sucking on your clit, you could already feel the arousal dripping out of you, making you shudder and hold onto his hair just a little tighter. He switched between focusing on your bundle of nerves and gathering every drip coming out of you with his tongue.

"Fuck," you couldn't help the whine erupting from you. You had to be quiet, not silent. Especially not when you knew what your sounds could do to Joel. You were confirmed of your thoughts when you heard the buckle of the belt on his jeans opening, followed by his zipper. Joel had to free his hands from holding onto you to get his jeans off his legs, dragging his boxers along with them to free his erect dick. But his tongue never left your heat - he was a God of multitasking and had proved that many times before.

Once you felt his right hand being placed on top of your abdomen and heard a deep groan coming from him, you knew he had started grasping his cock in his free hand. The thought of your partner jerking off to eating you out and the little breaths coming from you only added to the sensation that had been building up between your legs.

"Joel," you whimpered, "Don't-fuck, don't stop," begging him to keep going. His answer was another strong suck on your clit, and a lick of his tongue as he slid into you. The hand that had been holding you down was moving lower, still keeping you from moving too much, while his thumb had found its way to your clit, making sure to stimulate it, while his tongue was working inside of you.

"Oh, God, yeah…" you breathed out, uncontrollably starting to move your hips as well to get closer to the edge. Your moans came out higher-pitched as you pressed your lips together tighter, trying to keep as quiet as possible, while your partner was doing the Lord's work on you.

"Fuck- Joel, I'm gonna cum," you whined out, "I-"

"You can do it, baby," he encouraged you, letting go of his erection, to replace his tongue with two of his fingers, and going back to kissing your clit passionately while his right hand interlaced with yours.

"Come for me," he breathed against you.

You nodded, moaning slightly louder as the grip on his hand tightened, your hips moving around more. The tension kept building up, encouraging you to keep going as he moved his fingers in and out of you, the wet sounds echoing through the room.

"Come on, darlin'." His whisper made your body shake.

And after the last small whiny, "yeah…" slipped from your lips, you fell apart beneath him, tightening around his fingers, humming uncontrollably, and trying to hold in the moans and groans you could've let out.

Joel didn't stop though. He never does. He only removed his fingers to start cleaning you up with his tongue, not letting you recover from the orgasm that had washed over you.

You tried catching your breath, releasing his hand from your tight grasp, as you moved both your hands back to his hair, begging him to come up and hover over you, "Joel," you whispered, chest still heaving heavily.

With a smile, he came back up to face you after finally taking your underwear off completely, his arms resting on either side of you, peppering your face with kisses before stopping at your mouth. You could taste the remains of yourself on his tongue as he pushed it past your lips to slide over yours.

"I love you," he spoke quietly against your mouth, moving down to your jaw, making you smile as you pulled him to look you straight in the eyes, "I love you too," kissing him with just as much passion as before.

His right arm moved underneath your arched back, towing you into him as he sat you up on your knees. His fingers quickly opened the back of your bra, sliding it down your arms, following its trail to mark it with kisses. Once were boobs were free in front of you, he leaned down, getting to work on them as he decorated them with his lips. You threw your head back in relief, giving him easier access, sighing his name out loud.

When he wanted to feel your mouth on his again, he positioned his hand on your tits, engulfing them in the warmth of his palms.

"You're always so good to me." Now it was your time to move your lips down his throat, getting a soft moan out of him, while his fingers came to play with your nipples.

"How could I not," he got a hold of your chin, moving it gently so you'd be facing him again, "You deserve it," going back to stealing your breath and devouring your lips.

Joel sat down properly on the bed, giving you the opportunity, to take a seat on his lap. You let your hand travel down your body, between your legs to smear some of your wetness onto your palm before you moved onto him, covering his fully erect cock. He held himself up with his hands on the mattress, tilting his head back, letting the pleasure wash over him as a groan fell from his lips.

You pumped your hand up and down four times before you were ready to lower your head, but a soft grip on the back of your hair stopped you, gently pulling you back up, "No no, darlin', come on," Joel patted his lap, "Sit down." He had always been more of a giver than a receiver. Not that the hated blowjobs, how could he with your mouth, but he enjoyed giving a lot more than receiving.

You listened to his demand and scootched up onto his lap, not letting go of his erection in your hand as you lined it up with your sex before slowly sinking down on it, your hands coming to rest on his shoulders as soon as he grabbed you by your hips.

A soft but long whine vibrated in your throat as he started to fill you up, stretching you with his size. Your fingers started digging into his shoulders, making him hiss with a chuckle. His strong arms kept you as close as possible to him, waiting for you to set the pace and start moving.

You let your forehead fall against his once he was fully inside, and you started rotating your hip right away. Moving them back and forth to create some friction as both of you shared a round of low moans, kissing to prevent them from getting too loud. He moved his hips along with yours after getting to know the speed you were working with, making you sigh out loud. "Oh… fuck…"

Joel's hand came up to brush some of the hairs that stuck to your forehead, away, giving your cheeks a few pecks.

"You know, you get more beautiful each day," directing them down to your throat and the side of your neck.

You chuckled, "You're one to talk, dilf hot-shot." Your comment made the two of you giggle in chorus as you remembered him of the nickname he had earned himself at the last parent-teacher conference, which you found out, thanks to his daughter, who wondered what it meant.

He rolled his eyes,

"Oh please," he jerked his hips up to tease you, almost making you screech if it wasn't for you hiding your face in his neck. "I'll always find you beautiful, sweetheart, no matter the age."

His hand on your hair pulled you back gently to look at him again,

"Likewise, handsome," you smiled at him, gifting him with a kiss before your hands on his chest pushed him down, while you kept yourself up on your knees. As Joel lowered his body, following your directions, you felt his erection tipping with him, nudging the rough spot inside of you, getting a shaky moan from you in return.

Once he was comfortable, you braced yourself with your arms on the sides of his head to hover above him, continuing your make-out session. You felt his hands going down your body, finding their new place on your ass as he held on to it, keeping you still, while started to move his upwards. Having to pull back from the kiss, you released a soft sigh before starting to move against him, meeting his thrusts in the middle.

His grip tightened with his lips on you again, "Fuck, baby," he hissed, slightly picking up the pace. "Ya' gonna' be fuckin' death of me." You loved whenever his deep Texanian accent made an appearance during sex. It just told you, you were doing everything right.

With one last kiss, you pushed yourself up to fully sit on his cock again. He pushed his knees up slightly to give you a makeshift backrest once you started moving your hips faster. His fingers quickly interlaced with yours, giving you something to hold onto as you yanked them closer to you.

"Joel…" you dragged out his name in a hush, getting a groan from him in response.

"You're doing so good sweetheart, keep doing," he encouraged you.

You sat up straight, "Put your legs down," giving him the directions you needed for your next position, sounding almost out of breath. He did as you asked, giving you the room to lean back and hold onto his thighs, opening up your body as a sight to him.

"So good, baby," he moaned out loud as he put his hand to your pussy, after wetting his fingers with his spit, circling them around your clit, making you shake.

"Fuck," you cursed out, sighing along with it as you started moving your hips faster, now with the encouragement of Joel's touch on your sex.

His groans felt your ear, letting you know he wasn't far from his release, just as much as you. You kept moving, bouncing up and down on his erection that kept brushing your walls, letting you feel every vein on his cock.

"Joel, I'm so close," you moaned, which was all he needed to know before he freed his hands from yours, only to bring them back to your ass, lifting you up to change his position. You kept yourself up, taking a few deep breaths, trying to steady your breathing with the small rest you got.

He sat up on his knees, wrapping his arms around you again to lower you back onto the mattress, this time with your head against the comfort of your pillows.

Joel stayed in this position, making sure to keep you as still as possible in the tight hug, as he started snapping his hips against yours. His cock slid easily in and out of you, the wet sounds ringing through your ears as you felt his balls slapping against your ass.

You lifted your arms, your fingers desperately trying to find the headboard to hold onto as you tried to contain yourself from the noise you wanted to make. All you could let out were high-pitched whimpers and gentle moans when you could've easily screamed into his ears with the pleasure that was rushing through your body.

You could feel Joel's fingers digging into your skin, his groans only getting deeper as he attacked your neck, hoping to keep it as quietly as possible. The second orgasm was approaching you rapidly and you wanted to open your mouth to let him know, but all you could make out was,

"I- Jo-" as he kept on hitting just the sight spots inside of you.

He nodded, "I know, baby," breathing heavily against you, "Ya gonna come with me?" Making you nod hastily, "Yeah?" To which you nodded again, a whimper tumbling from your lips.

Your feet started digging into the mattress as the pressure leading you to your release was getting intensely more.

"I-I'm gonna c- fuck, I'm gonna cum," you managed to get out. Joel kept his lips on your neck, gifting you more encouraging words.

"Yeah baby, come with me," was the last thing you needed to hear before he smashed his lips onto yours just at the right time before you could scream your orgasm out into the world. Your fingers tightened around the wood of the headboard as you felt him shoot his cum into you. His groan against your mouth sent vibrations through your body, which was already shaking from the aftermath of your release.

As soon as he pulled back, the two of you shared your heavy breaths, sweaty foreheads pressed against each other, a smile of pleasure decorating both of your faces.

Joel started peppering your face with kisses again, making you chuckle as you still tried to catch your breath, just as well as he still was doing.

"I love you, darlin'," he whispered against your skin as you brought your fingers back to his hair, brushing them to make him look at you.

After placing a loving kiss against his lips, you breathed out, "I love you, babe. I love you a lot."

"A lot?" He chuckled, raising his eyebrows.

You nodded with a smile, "A lot."

With a deep kiss that let you know just what you needed to know, he was back gazing into your eyes, freeing your face from all the small hairs that had made their way to your sweaty forehead, "Well then, I love you a lot too." But you couldn't let him go yet, yanking him towards you for one last, passion-filled kiss, moaning into his mouth as he smirked.

Joel pushed himself back up, slowly sliding his erection out of you, making you shiver, and him chuckle before he walked over to the basket of clean clothes he had yet to put away.

He searched for the clean cloth he remembered throwing in, and once he had found it, he brought it back to bed with him. He was back to hovering above you, continuing your innocent make-out session while he started cleaning up the mix of his and your cum that was dripping out of you. With every swipe, you buckled your hips up uncontrollably, just enjoying the pleasure washing over your body.

After he got done with that, he threw the cloth into the basket for dirty clothing before starting to look for his boxers, standing up on his two feet to pull them up his legs. You crawled over to the edge of the bed, bending down to gather your underwear before looking up at Joel who was standing closer to the clean clothing than you were.

"Can you give me a shirt, please?" Already knowing that you were asking for one of his, he snatched a dark green one and passed it over to you, who had gotten up from the bed, legs still shaky, but you could make it work.

Once you had thrown that over your body, you felt the familiar strong arms wrap around you again, and Joel lowered his head to get another few kisses from you.

"Happy anniversary," he whispered once again.

You smiled against his lips, "Oh, it is a very happy anniversary, babe." When there didn't seem to be a stop to the make-out session he had initiated, you tried to push him away, but he wasn't budging.

"J-Joel," you giggled, "I need to go."

"Where?" He immediately pulled his head back, gazing at you in surprise, but you quickly calmed him with a soft hand on his chest,

"Downstairs to get our clothes. I don't need to traumatise your daughter on the first day of moving in," you freed yourself from his hug, "And then I have to take a shower."

As you passed him, he couldn't let go of the opportunity to get a hold of your ass, squeezing it, getting a screech from you in response. You were quick to turn around and hit him on the upper arm, making him flinch away with a smirk.

"Joel!" You hissed at him, motioning for him to be quiet.

He raised his arms, "You're the one being so loud," earning himself a death glare from you, but it only made his grin wider.

His eyes followed your form as you left the room before he let himself drop down onto the bed. He ran a hand over his face, not even caring to hide the smile that just didn't seem to go away.

You were officially moved in. From today on, he'd wake up next to you every single day. Sarah and he would have you by their side every afternoon after work. He'd be able to pick you up and bring you both home. Together. He knew now the pressure of the next step in your relationship would be approaching quicker, but he decided to put that thought aside and focus on the present - and on your footsteps that were coming back up.

Joel laughed to himself as he got back up, on his way to join you in the bathroom for round two - after all, he had promised you hours.

joel taglist: @corvusmorte

pedro taglist: @leslieelainetrask

[hiraeth-ink]

Busy Man (a Joel Miller fic)

Summary - pre-outbreak!Joel x reader - Joel has been so busy and overworked for a while and all you want is some good dick, something Joel is very willing to give.

Word Count - 2,941

Warnings - smut!! p in v, ass play, swearing, slight angst?

my first smut! I'm nervous

Joel was late. Again. So late dinner had already been eaten, a portion for Joel set aside. So late that Sarah had already gone to sleep, tired of waiting for his return from work. So late that you had abandoned your hope for the quality time he had promised you that morning. 

“I know we haven’t spent a lot of time together lately darlin’ it’s just, you know how work’s been,” he’d said this morning, full of promises of a dinner with you and Sarah, a movie and what you’d been constantly thinking about for days now; sex. Your busy schedules had never been a problem when it came to intimacy before but with Joel and Tommy’s big new project the last couple of weeks, Joel was reduced to an exhausted, low energy and grumpy version of himself. He came home, kicked off his work boots with a struggle and lazily shuffled to the shower before landing himself on the couch with a grunt. He would eat dinner quickly, a starved expression on his face, followed by a satisfied rub of his stomach and expressing his thanks for the meal. Not long after, he’d kiss you on the forehead, grumble a tired apology, “M’sorry baby but I gotta head to bed, m’exhausted and I’m out early tomorrow, I love you”. His heavy footsteps echoed on the stairs and he was already asleep by the time you had finished your night routine, light snores being carried through the open door of the bedroom. 

This routine was followed almost precisely for the last couple of weeks; work, eat and sleep. Joel worked hard at his business, long days of physical labour to appease his clients and support his family. You worked too, but your hours were not as long as Joel’s and nowhere near as physically demanding as his work either, so in support of him the least you could do was make sure a home cooked meal was ready for him when he arrived home after a long, gruelling day, a massage on the days he didn’t retire to bed almost immediately after eating. 

But your hunger has not subsided over the last week, your cravings have only grown and grown each day he hasn’t touched you, simmering inside of you, threatening to boil over when you see him walking through the front door. His tight, almost too tight, t-shirt displaying his biceps was enough to weaken your knees, but the sheen on his arms, the way the shirt was subtly sticking to his back and chest almost destroyed you. You felt feral upon seeing him again, almost embarrassed at your animalistic reaction to such a simple thing as Joel’s sweat, but the embarrassment was forgotten when he quickly pulled off his boots, straightened his back and wiped the sweat off his brow, showing off his strong arms once more. 

As he walked into the kitchen and towards you, he immediately started apologising, but you struggled to listen as the heat built up inside of you, your body’s reaction to him so strong that your mind was struggling to concentrate on what he was saying. 

“I’m sorry I’m late, baby. We got caught up at the site and then Tommy forgot to do the damn paperwork, it was a whole mess”, he exhaled as he reached to the top shelf of the cupboard for a glass. You were lost for words, a response appearing in your mind and disappearing just as quickly as he reached the top shelf, his shirt riding up and flashing a sliver of his soft tummy, even catching the top of the dark hairs that led to the exact thing you’d been craving. 

“Baby? You ok?” he asked with slight concern, but you only noted how deep his voice sounded, the low baritone going straight to your core as you imagined his voice in you ear while he rutted in and out of you, uttering the most filthy words you could imagine, things only Joel could get away with saying to you, as he played your body the way only he knew how to do, effortlessly coaxing multiple orgasms out of you. 

As you looked at him with your lips slightly parted, as if you were ready to finally break your silence, your mouth was dry but you didn’t bother getting a drink, not caring about water or anything else. You were thirsty for him, hungry for him. You felt feral again as you rushed to him, wrapping your hands around his thick neck and, lips searching for his, kissed him with all the want in your body. His hands wrapped around you, sliding down from your back to grab your bum, squeezing the soft flesh as he let out a groan. 

“I need you to fuck me Joel, missed you so much,” you breathed as you released his lips from yours, staring into his eyes, watching them switch from fatigue to hunger as he lifted you into his arms effortlessly, encouraging you to wrap your legs around his waist, kissing him again as he carried you up the stairs and into the bedroom. He grumbled something about, “I’ll eat later, been neglecting my baby recently”, to which you replied with a whimper, feeling his cock hardening through his pants against your soaking core. 

He threw you on the bed and wasted no time taking off your shorts and spreading your legs, keeping hold of your ankles. His presence was overbearing, the difference between the hurried kisses and short hugs you’d exchanged recently, and now being in such close proximity to him, his face so close to where you needed him most in this moment. You felt him everywhere, his intense gaze on you, switching from the patch of wetness on your underwear to your face, his warm breath on your clothed core, the strong grip he held your ankles in. 

“Please Joel”, you panted desperately, bucking your hips up in search of something, anything to relieve the ache between your thighs. 

His hands moved from your ankles to the backs of your thighs, his big, rough hands gently caressing your skin along the way and pushing your thighs towards your stomach, folding you into place. 

“You missed me baby? Missed me touching you?” he said before teasingly licking a stripe up your folds and circling your clit through your panties, all while looking into your eyes. You whimpered and couldn't help but attempt to roll your hips into his mouth, but his steady grip on your thighs held you still. 

“Please Joel, I need you so bad, been thinking about this all day, all week” you begged, looking into his eyes with a pleading look. You were hungry for him, desperate for him to do something, to feel his fingers or his cock or his tongue if he would just take off your-

“Fuck Joel oh my god”, he pulled your panties to the side, and sucked your clit into his mouth, suddenly frenzied and impatient as he licked and sucked at your clit, groaning at your taste. You couldn’t fight the whimpers and moans that climbed up your throat and escaped your mouth, you couldn’t control your sounds, Joel was forcing them out of you with every lick through your folds, every stroke of his tongue pushing you closer and closer to the edge. 

He pushed two fingers inside you, forcing more animalistic sounds of you, and curled them, reaching deep inside of you and coaxing your first orgasm of the night, of the week, out of you. You came with a loud cry of his name, your hips bucking up to meet his mouth, legs shaking and twitching uncontrollably as you came down, breathing heavily and crying out once more when he removed his fingers. 

“Fuck me Joel, I need you inside” you mumbled deliriously, your orgasm not having fully subsided yet, but the need for him to fuck you stronger than ever. The need to have him inside, close to you, was all you could think of. 

“I will baby, I will,” he said as he hurriedly removed his clothes, using your slick to wet his hard cock and stroking it once, twice, before lining up with your entrance. He looked at your face with dark eyes, “Been neglecting this little pussy haven’t I baby? You’re so fucking wet for me, came so quick too, been waiting for this huh?” he drawled, cockiness oozing from his words, but he wasn’t wrong. You were dripping, a wet spot surely growing on the sheets beneath you as you looked at his thick cock, the pink head almost angry looking and a small bead of pre cum dripping out, enough to make your mouth water with need, 

You were ready to beg for him again, but as soon as you started, you broke out into a broken moan, suddenly feeling full as he thrusted his cock all the way into you in one, smooth stroke. The stretch of him against your walls had your eyes rolling back, desperate whimpers being forced out of you again as he pulled all the way out and back into you with a groan. He set a slow but forceful pace, allowing you to feel every inch of him, hard and thick and overwhelming. His hands were gripping your thighs, pushing them back onto your stomach so you felt him impossibly deep, his tip lightly kissing your cervix, not enough to cause any pain but enough to make you release a whimper everytime it happened. 

“You sound so pretty darlin’, all for me,” he said as he circled your clit with one hand, his other moving up your body to your neck, lightly squeezing your nipple on the way, before wrapping his hand around your neck and giving it a gentle squeeze. 

He chuckled at the way you smiled when he choked you and in his low Texan drawl said, “Dirty little thing, tell me how much you love it, how much you missed it”. His length thrusting in and out of you, slowly but hard and deep, coupled with his fingers rubbing your clit in steady circles rendered you unable to form a coherent thought. All you could muster was unintelligible moans, causing him to break out into a cocky grin before demanding you to answer him. 

“When I tell you to do something, you better do it baby. Wouldn’t want me to stop would you?” he taunted, continuing to fuck you and rubbing your clit quicker than before.

“I love it Joel! Love it so much, missed it-Oh fuck. Can’t live without it Joel please don’t stop-Please,” you cried out quickly, your words all morphing together, worried he would stay true to his word and stop, robbing you of the relief you desperately needed. 

“That’s right baby, my good girl, come for me,” he cooed, aware of how hearing him call you his good girl affected you and you came almost instantly, whimpering his name over and over. His name ran through your mind quicker than you could follow, a continuous chant of Joel Joel Joel Joel, until you came down from your high, relaxing instantly. But Joel didn’t give you any time to relax or adjust as he rolled you on to your front, expertly manoeuvring your body so that you were on your knees, your cheek resting on a pillow, and thrusted into you again from behind. 

He’s relentless now, fucking into you hard and fast, no longer fighting the groans and grunts that leave his mouth as he loses himself in the way you feel around him.

“So fucking good peach, wet and warm,” he interrupts himself with a guttural groan as you clench around him at his words, “so fuckin’ tight, fuckin’ perfect baby”, the words topple from his mouth as he loses his restraint. Your endless whimpers only spur him on as he continues to push his hips into you. 

“Missed this pussy so much baby, never going this long without fuckin’ you again,” the words make you cry out in agreement. You want to speak, to tell him you can’t do it either, that you need this as much as possible but the words fail you. All you can do is take it, take whatever he’s willing to give you and be grateful for it. 

“You can’t even talk can you sweetheart? ‘M’I fuckin’ you so good you can’t think straight? My dumb little girl,” his words go straight to your core, squeezing around him as he continues to spit the filthy words from his mouth.

“Ohmygod Joel” you almost scream as you feel his thumb circling your tight, puckered hole, the sensation sending new waves of pleasure to your core, doubling as he pushes his thumb inside, both you and Joel letting out a groan as he does. 

“My good little slut, lettin’ me do whatever I want huh baby? Hm, bet you’d let me fuck your ass right now if I wanted to wouldn’t ya?” he says through gritted teeth, you know he’s close and so are you. Everything he’s doing has you hurtling towards another peak, his cock fucking you with urgency, his thumb inside your tight hole, his words, him moaning and groaning above you. You’re speeding up to the peak, unable to stop the moans tumbling from your mouth as his thrusts speed up and up until your mouth opens in a silent scream and you come. You come hard. Whole body shaking as he fucks you through it, you barely hear him calling you his good girl, your whole body burning with pleasure, lighting up in flames as your eyes squeeze shut, vision going black and you can do nothing but take it. As you start coming down you hear him again, coming with a groan of your name, stilling inside you and catching his breath. 

Your legs collapse on the bed as he moves away from you. You somewhat hear him saying something along the lines of, “gonna clean you up darlin’”. But when he comes back you don't feel a warm cloth cleaning you, instead you feel his big hands spreading your cheeks apart, groaning at the sight of his come trailing out of your puffy, used sex. Unexpectedly, he licks at your folds, and pushes his tongue inside your entrance, licking up his come, before pulling you up into him so that your back rests against his chest. He cradles your chin softly and turns your head, slotting his lips to yours and pushing his tongue inside your mouth, pushing his spend past your lips. You take it all, moaning at the taste of both of you mixed together. Joel continues to kiss you passionately, as if still trying to make up for lost time. He pulls away to catch his breath and carefully places you on your back. Reaching for the warm cloth, he wipes your folds and your inner thighs before tossing it in the washing basket in the corner of the room. 

“How you feelin’, sweetheart?” he asks as he climbs in bed next to you, pulling you into his warm embrace, tenderly kissing your forehead. He looks at you lovingly, but you can’t miss the guilt filled expression written across his face. 

“I’m sorry I’ve been so busy lately. I promise after this project is done I’ll have more time for you an’ Sarah. Kills me that I’ve been neglecting you both,” he continued, his voice, usually strong and commanding, was now small and quiet, conveying his guilt and insecurity of his shortcomings when it came to you and his daughter. 

“Joel baby, you haven’t been neglecting us, you’ve been working. You work long and hard hours, you do it for us, so we can live a good life. We both understand baby. Sarah knows you love her more than anything Joel.” 

“And you?” he questions quietly, “Do you know how much I love you?,” his question melts your heart, his brown eyes staring into yours with so much love and appreciation forces you to smile up at him, tears threatening to spill from your eyes at his attempt to reassure you of his love for you. 

“Of course I do, Joel. And I love you too. So much,” you profess, heart constricting at finally having him close after feeling so far away from him. But you know it isn't his fault. 

“I love you and I appreciate all that you do, Joel,” you reassure him, trailing circles into his chest with your nails. He lifts your chin, slotting his lips to yours in a kiss but you’re interrupted by the loud growl of his stomach, a reminder that his dinner was forgotten downstairs. Abandoned in exchange for his hunger for you, your hunger for each other. You laugh as you pull away, telling him to eat and hurry back to bed so you can cuddle. 

“Will you come sit with me while I eat? We can watch that Western we’ve been dyin’ to watch,” he suggests with a sly grin, pulling on his sleep clothes, stomach still angrily rumbling as he throws you a fresh set of pyjamas. 

“We’ve been dyin’ to watch? Are you kidding me, Joel?” you bark out an incredulous laugh at his suggestion, though you know that you would watch whatever he wanted if it meant  you could cuddle up to Joel on the couch, his strong arms wrapped around you, head resting on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. Anything to be close to him.

[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’“

[uselesssomebody]

𝕗𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕥𝕙 𝕠𝕗 𝕛𝕦𝕝𝕪 (𝕝) - neighbor!joel miller x reader (pre!outbreak)

complete masterlist | joel miller masterlist

"𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕥𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖 𝕝𝕚𝕜𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕗𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕥𝕙 𝕠𝕗 𝕛𝕦𝕝𝕪 𝕞𝕒𝕝𝕥 𝕝𝕚𝕢𝕦𝕠𝕣 𝕠𝕟 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕓𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕙, 𝕞𝕪, 𝕞𝕪" - you can be the boss | lana del rey

words || 𝟠.𝟛𝕜

summary || in which the reader gets real friendly with one of her neighbors

next part || fourth of july (II)

a/n || in honor of that one deleted dvcree edit. may it rest in peace ➵ i became ghastly ill when i tried to write so apologies that it took a while. ➵ this is set before the events of the show, back when joel and sarah were still both alive and in austin, texas. i've never been so i dunno how accurate my descriptions are, or my accents, either. don't hate them please ➵ there is an age gap in this story !! if that makes you uncomfortable, i have many other non-age-gap fics you can browse on my page. reader is like 27 and joel is like 36. he's not old, though he is mentioned as such because he's old compared to her. also canonical dilf ➵ thinking of putting out a sister blog but with darker fics? what're we thinking, guys? ➵ send me requests if you have ‘em. enjoy!

warnings || fluff/smut ➵ unprotected sex ➵ piv sex ➵ oral (m receiving) ➵ fingering ➵ overstimulation ➵ facial & cum ig (tell me if i miss anything)

austin was hot.

she was sure that was one of her first thoughts as she’d stepped off the plane, quick to push her suddenly-heavy locks out of her face. lugging luggage and a young teen with her certainly didn’t make it better, but the light gust of fresh air when she stepped out of the airport left her sighing deeply in relief.

flagging down a taxi was simple enough, but getting her sister to help place their suitcases in the trunk was not.

“nicole - please get off your ass and help me!” she said it in such a sweet voice, that her harsh choice of words seemed to both mildly bewilder and amuse the driver.

no one called nicole ‘nicole’, except, of course, her big sister - and even then, only to frighten her. to everyone else she was just nicky and, if they were real close, nick.

swallowing sharply at the implied warning - the use of her full name - she did, indeed, get off her ass and help push the last suitcase into the trunk.

they piled into the backseat, the cool of the a.c. soothing the light flush on the sisters’ skin. she’s quick to give the driver the address, and he nods, setting off.

neither of them had imagined ever moving back to austin, but here they were.

it’d been about 13 years, as far as she remembers, and the scenery had changed significantly. more people bustled around the streets than there had been before, more businesses had seemingly popped up, and everything seemed fancier.

nicky wouldn’t have noticed the change, having moved alongside her family at the ripe age of a year old, but her significantly older sister could.

she still remembers how her parents had sat her down - on a pretty summer evening before her freshman year. they’d mentioned many things - how the family was due for a new start, how austin wasn’t so feasible for them anymore, and so on. the only thing she’d heard was change and loss.

and that's what it was for her. her whole life turned upside on its head, as the family of 4 made the move across the country to the cold state of michigan. and that’s where they’d stayed - for the rest of her childhood, and then her adulthood, too.

her parents had been young when they’d had her. very young, and she sometimes sensed the sadness that she caused them because of it. they never tried to be outward about it, and her life had been as happy as she could have realistically wanted it.

and, though she loved her young sister, she knew that she became less important in the eyes of her parents after nicky’s birth, taking the back-burner to make space for the family’s golden child, conceived with careful planning and meticulous care - as opposed to the case that she’d been.

now, though, being much older, she didn’t let that bother her, though she never felt particularly at home in michigan. in fact, the last place she’d felt at ease had been austin, and when her father had stated that he couldn’t continue to find renters for their old property there, and was thinking of selling it, she was quick to discourage him, swaying him by stating she’d be more than happy to stay there, renting under her parents. they’d been excited at the notion of being able to keep the house, she was happy to get out of there, and nicky was… well, she was, frankly, devastated at the thought of her big sister being several states away.

regardless of the tense family dynamic, the both of them had remained steadfastly bonded, with her providing the role of a caretaker as much as she was a sister to nicky when her parents found themselves unable to relate to or understand their young daughter. nicky’d begged for weeks to travel with her sister, and her parents had been - to put it lightly - hesitant, worried that the big change would affect their daughter’s development.

nicky was outgoing, for sure, and she had her friends and her school - but she knew all those came and went. the only rock she’d truly had in her life was her sister, and the notion of losing her had been too much to bear.

she’d gotten ill after that first week it was announced - it was as much a physical sickness as it was a psychological one - and the wallowing she had done at the advent of the news had only spurred the sickness to be harsher.

her parents had had to reprioritize after that, finally grasping the profound effect the separation might have on the two.

and that’s what led them here - just a few blocks away from her childhood home.

nicky wasn’t sure how exactly she felt about the suburban environment after their last few years in an apartment at the heart of the city, but when she looked over, she could see her sister’s happy - nay, giddy - face. that was definitely a big plus.

she had practically fallen out of the car in her excitement, and she spent just a minute marvelling at the fact that building hasn't changed a bit from when she last saw it.

it had transported her back to her teenage self, and, lost in the moment, the taxi driver wondered if he should remind her of her bags and his fare. nicky, who had been less of a help on the ride here, started unloading them herself, and it took until the second suitcase for him to help her.

“just give her a minute,” she mumbles, making him laugh lightly. hearing the conversation, she snaps her head back, realizing that most of the bags were already on the pavement.

“oh! sorry,” she fished into her wallet, producing his fare, which he accepted with a nod and salute. she smiled, the two sisters thanking him and waving him off, before turning back to their place, “excited?” she mumbles it to nicky.

“incredibly,” she said it with a faux-bored expression, but even she could appreciate the extra space this house would provide them.

she walks up the patio steps, slotting the key she’d so delicately carried the entire journey here into the lock, and hearing the distinct click it made when it opened.

the sound of a new beginning.

it'd been a few weeks, and everything was shockingly alright. the house felt more like home to her than anywhere she'd ever been, and though nicky was still adjusting, she felt infinitely better in a somewhat unfamiliar environment with her sister, as opposed to a familiar one without her. the house had three bedrooms, and nicky’d happened to pick her childhood bedroom out of the two offered to her, and, though nicky hadn't realized yet, she could see the love she’d put into the bedroom when she was younger: chipped wallpaper where she’d put her posters, a faint ring of liquid on the windowsill from where she'd kept her potted plant, the creak of the bed whenever someone would sit on it.

hey, she never said it was perfect, and they'd been quick to make their way to the furniture store closer to the city to find some new things for the place. all she was glad about was that there was no need for renovations in the old house.

they'd found a lot of time to spend together; having moved early into the summer, they'd hoped nicky would get acquainted with the change before going to school. that’d also left her to be a somewhat bored teen, so she did what she, as a younger sibling, did best: annoy her sister.

of course, she didn't mind, simply happy they had a chance to hang out, something that had been harder to do for her between work back in michigan, and her school. currently, she was also taking a break, having left her job, and having a new one lined up in another month.

that left ample time for them to catch up on all the movies and t.v. they'd had to watch, and for the older sister to teach nicky a thing or two about good music. she couldn't have her sister entering high school with a bad taste of music - it'd be blasphemous. she'd been brushing up on her housekeeping abilities as well, so the time also consisted of teaching nicky of how to cook, and keep everything in the house in order to minimize the risk of damage.

that time had begun to dwindle as of recent, with nicky being out of the house more often. she'd come into her sister's room sporadically, in order to ask her permission to meet with a friend. she'd tend to say yes, considering her sister was old enough to handle herself, though she was always a little shocked at the speed at which nicky made friends.

on one fine morning, she finally sat her down.

“so, who's this friend you've been spending all your time with?” it'd been in the middle of breakfast, and nicky'd become frozen, spoonful of cereal sticking out of her mouth. she’s quick to realize the awkward position, pulling the spoon out of her mouth, and hastening her chewing in order to answer the question more quickly.

“you haven't met her? oh my god, you absolutely have to. she's been showing me around the place - apparently she knows all the coolest spots, cause her and her dad - they've been living here for, like, forever, and-” the sudden onslaught of information made the older sister practically recoil, before it was replaced by an amused chuckle.

“well, mom and dad were worried about how well you'd adjust, but it seems like you're doing just fine.” nicky smiled too, though it was a little sheepish, “so, where did you say she stayed?” she was still slightly confused as to how nicky had met her, as she'd never exactly strayed very far from the house.

“oh, she lives next-door. didn't I mention?” the information was jarring for a moment, as it seemed a massive oversight on her part to not even notice her adjacent neighbors, but she suddenly found herself remembering something. there had been a young girl coming out of the house next door with a bag slung over her shoulder, and her hair pulled back and under a visor to protect her from the blinding texan sun. she’d been out to attend to some of the plants she had bought for the porch, and she had looked up when she’d heard the girl’s crunching steps on the somewhat gravelly pavement.

she’d smiled and waved at her, and she’d nodded back, just slightly confused by the encounter. of course, due to the nature of it, she’d promptly forgotten about it by evening, but she was quickly coming to realize that this must be the girl that nicky was talking about.

“wait - she’s the one with the big hair, wears band shirts?” nicky nods enthusiastically, and she smiles approvingly. the young girl seemed sweet enough, and she was more than happy that nicky had already found a friend.

the next week, nicky had been begging that they invite sarah over for dinner. it’d been a chill weekend anyways, so she was definitely not opposed to the idea, but she was quick to extend the invitation.

“okay, okay - invite her over on sunday. tell her to invite her parents too; it’d be nice to meet the neighbors.” nicky was quick to shake her head.

“parent, it’s just her and her dad.” she corrected herself quickly.

“right, ‘f course. invite him over too, then.” nicky nodded excitedly, rushing over to her room to get on the phone with sarah along the street.

that sunday, she did join the sister’s for dinner, but, as she’d been ushered into the house by two friendly smiles, she seemed to putting off a phrase at the tip of her tongue.

“s’everything ‘lright, hun?” she was quick to notice her guest’s guarded appearance, as she’d sat on the couch with nicky.

“hmm? oh, yeah, yeah. it’s just - my dad’s working tonight, so he couldn’t make it.” she waved her off.

“oh, don’t worry about that, we’re just happy you’re here!”

nicky echoed the sentiment, and the two young girls spent their time talking and laughing, a couple miscellaneous snack bowls spread over the coffee table as sarah became more comfortable. they’d migrated to the dining table when they’d been served dinner. she didn’t tend to cook for guests, so she attempted to pull out all her makeshift stops and, considering the end product, she was quite satisfied with the result.

no one was more excited than nicky and sarah, though - the both of them practically scarfing down the delicious meal. the conversation had turned to include all three of them, and sarah was beginning to reacquaint the both of them to austin, while they entertained her with stories of their time in michigan.

though they’d tried their very best, neither girl came all that close to finishing all the food she’d set out, so she was quick to package it up, sending sarah on her way with the food as a nod to her father’s missed opportunity.

“are you sure? i mean, i don’t know if i can take this-”

“yes, you can. unless you don’t think he’ll like it-”

“no! absolutely not, he’ll love it, it’s just-”

“sarah.” the faux-strict tone made sarah’s face crack into a smile, before she nodded, tucking the packet under her arm as she turned to say her goodbyes to nicky.

once she’d left, she pounced on her older sister.

“isn’t she great?” startled, she laughed, before nodding.

“definitely.”

june passed quickly, and, by july, she’d finished the paperwork for the house, for her job, and for nicky’s school. she was glad to know that it was the same one that sarah went to, and, with the added comfort of her sister spending increasing amounts of time exploring austin, she’d sat her cramped joints down in front of the t.v., vying at the chance to enjoy some trashy reality or game show.

though the sun still provided sweltering heat, when she left the kitchen and living room windows slightly ajar, she could feel the hint of a breeze work in place of their energy-consuming a.c. - which she’d turned off for that exact reason.

she turned her head from the t.v., the contestants on the screen continuing to speak with the host, and she let her eyes drift over the sliver of scenery that she could see through the half-obstructed kitchen windows. some of her neighbors had put up american flags. some were old, new, tattered, printed, there was even one that seemed to be homemade. of course, she knew this behavior was really only reserved in this neighborhood during this time of year, as the texans prepared to celebrate the 4th of july.

reminiscing of her own experiences with the holiday: going swimming with friends, eating good meals, and the occasional barbecue at a friend’s place - she was caught off guard when she heard the doorbell ring. it made her jump, but she quickly composed herself, standing up and brushing off her clothes.

she ran her fingers through her hair and, hoping she looked presentable, she opened the door.

it was her neighbor on her other side, a woman by the name of martha. she was a little older - her and her husband - and they were absolute sweethearts. in fact, they were the first to greet the new neighbors, back on their second day here. she was looking up at her with an excited smile.

“martha, hi! what can i do for you!”

“well - i was just wondering if you’d join us: we’re having a little barbecue tomorrow for the 4th, and i’ve invited a few of the neighbors. we’d really love to have you and nicky.”

she was just a bit taken aback by the invitation, but she didn’t hesitate in her response.

“of course, we’d be happy to be there! shall i bring anything?”

“no, of course not, dear. we’re hosting, just bring your little one.” she let out a light laugh, agreeing. martha bid her a quick goodbye, and headed in the next house’s direction - the millers.

perfect, she thought, nicky’ll have some fun too, then.

july the 4th, and a neighborhood barbecue. it’s a nation-wide phenomenon, then.

nicky’d been significantly more excited than her, once again, proving herself to be the more social one. nevertheless, as the younger girl got ready the next morning, her older sister spent her time finishing a tin of muffins. martha’d assured her she didn’t have to bring anything, but it almost hurt her soul to show up empty-handed. if she’d calculated correctly - and she’d hoped she’d done - she’d made just about enough for the whole group.

by 11:30, they were both ready, and she’d placed two boxes of them in nicky’s hand, while she carried the other two. the both of them made their way over, and she noticed the large group mingling in their yard and backyard. she could see martha’s husband, john, commandeering their large grill, a corona in his hand. she looked around for martha, and caught the eye of the woman as she turned away from greeting another guest.

“oh, you two ‘re here, perfect.”

“hey, martha. look, i know what you said, but-” martha gasped in delight at the boxes as she neared and noticed them, lightly taking them off of her.

“they look great; you haven’t stressed making them, have ya?”

“no - no, it’s my pleasure, really.” martha smiled at her, a mix of graciousness and happiness, before turning her attention to nicky.

“hey, nicky. how’re ya holding up?” nicky nodded.

“good, pretty good. thanks for having us.” she waved her hand at the notion, ushering the both of them inside.

for the first hour, she got acquainted with martha’s husband, the smiths from across from them, and marriots from down the road. they were all very curious about michigan and she, in turn, curious about how much exactly austin had changed since she’d last been here. at the same time, nicky was talking to a pair of twins a year younger than her who lived about two houses down. they were pretty cool, and were going to the same school as her, so they were filling her in on some of the school-wide drama: stuff sarah never cared so much about.

speaking of which, by about 12:30, she hears sarah’s voice greeting someone, and she turns her head, waving at her. behind her is her father, two packs of cold ones in his hands, that he sets down as he greets the hosts. sarah’s quick to detach from him, saluting him goodbye, as she instead makes her way over to nicky and the two other girls.

nicky's older sister had been enraptured in a conversation about the new dog the marriots were getting next week, when she felt someone come up to her.

john had brought joel over to the group, and he integrated without interrupting the story, letting mr. marriot express his excitement for the miniature pinscher they were getting. once he was done, he notices the newest member of his audience.

“hey! joel, how’re ya doin’?” his words turned the attention of everyone in the group, and she realized that this was the coveted joel miller: the man she missed for that one dinner. she turned her head to look at him, flashing him a friendly smile, but it almost froze on her face as she drank in his appearance.

good god, was he fine. messy hair that he’d pushed back, a full beard and an intense gaze. jesus, he was piercing straight through her, his eyes boring into hers while his mouth reflected a polite smile. she averted her gaze for a moment, before john is quick to introduce them.

“and this is joel; him and his daughter live right next door to you guys.” she nods, reaching over to shake his outstretched hand.

“nice to meet you; you’re sarah’s dad?” he nods, smiling at the mention of his daughter. she made the mistake of looking up to catch his gaze, and she felt her breath hitch. the moment passed as she released his hand, but, when she looked back up at his face for a half-second, as ms. smith began talking about her daughter, she swore she saw a smirk in the corner of his mouth.

the lunch had been lovely, and the company had been better. she’d heard stories of four neighbor’s dogs, and seven neighbor’s kids, and then stories of john and martha’s holiday the previous winter, and she felt much closer to the entire neighborhood. nicky had been bustling between her and her friends the entire time, as had sarah, but with her father.

speaking of whom - joel was interesting. he seemed just a bit tired, and maybe bit quiet compared to the others, but he had managed to find a keen amusement in making her squirm. and how could she not? this attractive, sweet, hot, funny, hot, gentlemanly, hot single dad was meeting her eyes every few moments with a gaze that made it look like he wanted to make her forget her name.

did she mention he was hot?

as was she, after a few hours of this strange back and forth, where the both of them seemed to be enraptured in the conversations they were in, but couldn’t seem to take their attention off each other.

jesus christ - he’s your neighbor. and he’s 10 years older than you. and he’s got a daughter who is best friends with your sister!

she jumped when nicky had come up to her, shocked by the feeling of practically materializing her sister.

“hey, i was wondering if i could go over to sarah’s place? i’ll be home in the evening.” nicky seemed a little tired of the party, obviously not the absolute best scene for a teenager like her.

“huh? oh, um - is she and her dad okay with that?”

“i’m alright with it,” a deep voice came from behind her, and she whipped her head around. joel had a kind smile on his face, and he was looking over at nicky, nodding.

“oh, thank you mr. miller! i appreciate it.” nicky smiled back up at him, before looking at her sister with practically puppy eyes.

“alright, nicky. be home by 5.”

“by 6, see you!” nicky rushed off before she had a chance to argue, and she opened her mouth, stuck between bemusement and amusement at her gall. joel laughed behind her, a deep, quiet noise. she didn’t realize how close he was to her, feeling the vibrations of his body in her own. she turned to properly face him, taking a half-step back to allow herself a more comfortable angle to look at him.

“nicky’s always so excited to hang out with sarah, and i can see why: she’s really sweet.” he smiled at the compliment for his daughter, his eyes holding a far-away quality that indicated his reminiscing of her.

“yeah - yeah, nicky too. sarah’s always harpin’ me to be able to go out with her.” he took a breath as he snapped back to look at her, “you’re new to the neighborhood then.” she smiled.

“yeah, we just moved in last month.” he nodded, gesturing around.

“it’s not a bad place, when you’re used to it.” there’s a joking twang in his tone.

“it’s not a bad place, even when you aren’t.” a light chuckle fell from him, as he took another swig of his beer. she could feel the proximity heating her up, so she brushed some hair out of her face, “i think i’ll step out for a moment. d’ya wanna join me?” she gestured to the door, and he shrugged.

“why not.”

the yard was more empty now, as people had begun leaving the gathering, or entering the house as the food had dwindled. though, still placed on the table, were a few of the many muffins she had made. she walked over, him in invisible tow, and she took one, handing it over to him.

“do me a favor, tell me what you think.” he seemed a bit confused, but obliged her, eating the muffin with great care. maybe exaggerated, but the expression on his face made her laugh, so she didn’t mind.

“this is great! martha went all out for these.” she nodded at the praise, him oblivious that it should have been directed towards her.

“martha definitely did. those were mine, though.” he looked back at her, in a mixture of impress and awe.

“well - you’re as good a baker as you are a cook, then.” she laughed at the reference to their lost dinner.

“oh, you did get it from sarah. perfect, what’d you think?”

“i thought that i regretted missing the chance to meet you then.”

suddenly, she felt the conversation had veered away from her ability to make food, and more towards - well, her. she went to retort, but heard her phone’s tone go. she snapped her head to her pocket, mumbling an apology as she did so.

it wasn’t anything important, thankfully, but it did give her an opportunity to check the time and, true to belief, it seemed that, very soon, she’d have overstayed her welcome.

“shit, it’s later than i thought.” she looked up at him, almost apologetically.

“you’re heading home?” though she wasn’t a master at reading faces, she could almost swear there was a hint of disappointment on his.

“well, joel, you’re a hard man to get a hold of. so, mind helping me bring these boxes back?” she gestured to the four boxes, and, in her own roundabout manner, made the bold move of inviting him over.

was it even bold? he lived a few meters from the place anyway. he smiled though, and, in his own gentlemanly manner, agreed immediately. he grabbed three of the boxes before she could stop him, and she almost sheepishly took the last box back up the street with him, pausing for only a moment to unlock the door to hers, before ushering him into the place.

he seemed almost hesitant to step too far in, but she waved it off, telling him to make himself comfortable as he set the boxes down.

“want anything? water, beer? something to eat?” he held his hand up, shaking his head, but did indulge in sitting at her dinner table. she ignored his gesture, taking out two cans for the both of them, before sitting in the seat beside him. he didn’t seem to mind, though, taking the cold beverage gratefully. it made her smile: at least the heat was affecting the both of them.

she took a long, almost wincing sip of hers, having almost forgotten how strong the liquid tasted in her mouth.

“sarah mentioned you’re a contractor?” it was a feeble attempt at reigniting their conversation; truly, she just didn’t want him to leave yet. he seemed to notice that notion, as he took a moment to answer, looking up at her between sips.

“yeah, yeah. me and my brother.” it was new info, and she nodded, rubbing at her nose lightly as she concentrated on the tab of the can, “so, how’d you find the place - the people?”

“they’re - uh, they’re really nice, i guess. everyone seems really friendly.” he nods.

“sure, sure. i’m sure it’s a little annoying though - everyone’s a bit older, right?” she looked up at him, and he had an unreadable expression on his face.

“well, i don’t mind older.” she maintained eye contact as she saw his smile twist, lip curling into a smirk, one he tried to hide behind his drink, “in fact, i think it’s better. older guys tend to be more mature - put together, you know?”

“guys?” his face betrayed his shock at her directness, and she suppressed a laugh.

“well, that is what you’re asking, aren’t you?” he held a hand up in surrender.

“and if i was?” she stuck her tongue into the side of her cheek, surveying the space between them.

“well, mr. miller. i’d tell you to stop beating around the bush and just take what you want.” he set his drink down with a light thud, something more desperate swirling in his eyes.

“and what would that be?” he wanted her to iterate exactly what she thought would happen.

“you tell me.” she didn’t give in, hoping the older man would break before she would.

he didn’t need much convincing, though, placing a firm grip on her arm, and pulling her closer to him, leaning forward and taking her cheek in his much larger hand.

“you’re asking too much of me, sweetheart. what’d the neighbors think?” his breath fanned over her face, and the tone of his voice indicated his teasing nature.

“what?” he laughed against her, shaking her body, before he gestured to the window just adjacent to him.

“only been here a few weeks, and already seducing one of your neighbors? it’s bold - i’ll tell you that much.” his cologne - a soft, but distracting smell - was overpowering her, and she couldn’t exactly think clearly as he sat so close to her.

“joel.” it came out as more of a plea than she had maybe wished, and he smiled, his eyes flicking across her face, “should we go upstairs?” she detached from his eyes for just the slightest moment, to look up at the staircase leading to her room.

“if you want to, sweetheart.”

fuck. being called sweetheart? by him? she was done for.

she led him up the stairs, her steps just slightly shaky as she walked up.

what was she doing? him, she supposed.

her bedroom was messier than she’d hoped as they walked in, but she didn’t have time to dwell on that as he pulled her towards him while she shut the door behind her, pressing his lips to her ear as her back hits his thick chest.

“you sure you want to do this?” his voice is huskier than it had been before, and it made her let out a shaky breath.

“please.” he smiles against her soft skin, turning her to face him. she doesn’t waste a moment, leaning closer to his face as he pulled hers closer to him, capturing her lips in his own.

his beard tickled her chin, his breath warm on her face as she closed her eyes against him. he tasted like an interesting mix between the barbecue, her muffins, and the beer he’d been drinking, creating a festive, american aftertaste in her mouth.

the kiss made her moan against him, as her hands finally began exploring the man in front of her. his shirt was flimsy against his torso, and that made her almost more inclined to pull it off of him, as she placed her hands under the thin fabric. he broke the kiss with an amused exhale, pulling her hands out from under it with a smile playing on his lips.

“think you owe me something, first, sweetheart.” she looked back up at him in confusion, but, noticing the fingers at the ends of her own top, she as quick to pull it off of herself. even he seemed a little shocked by her eagerness, but that didn’t stop him, pulling her into him with such force that the both of them fell onto her bed.

he sat back up in a heartbeat, redirecting her thighs so that they straddled his own, pulling her towards him. the angle left her neck at eye level with him, and his nose traced the skin of her collarbone, the ghost of kisses leaving a trail up her neck as she wrapped her fingers in his scruffy hair. she let herself get lost in his touch, the softness of his lips on her chest, the sharp sting of his teeth occasionally grazing her skin, the harshness of his fingers against the skin of her thighs.

before she - or he, for that matter - could get too carried away, she pushed away from him lightly, reaching back down to tug at his shirt.

“you got what you wanted, now come on-” he laughed as he pulled the offending cloth off of him, and she sighed happily at the sight.

god, he was hot. she pushed him further back until he was laying down, and attached herself to his jaw, placing chaste kisses in a similar manner he’d done, tracing the edges on his beard with her lips. he kept his hands firmly on her sides, squeezing gently as she made her way down his body, over his chest, where the hair tickled her nose, making her smile. then, over his stomach, until she’d gotten dangerously close to his rapidly hardening cock.

he gripped her tightly, making her squeak in shock which, surprisingly, did nothing to quell his arousal.

“you’re-”

“let me, c’mon.” she said it as though there was a measure needed to persuade him. that definitely wasn’t the issue; rather he was worried he’d finish far too quickly for the mature older man he’d portrayed himself to be.

but how could he not - this fucking gorgeous woman with her head between his legs looking up at him with those eyes. fuck, those eyes.

“please, joel?” he’d grunted in that moment, releasing his grip, and she had a smug smile on her face as she unbuttoned his jeans. he couldn’t see it though, his head thrown back as he tried to even his breaths.

she wasted not a moment to tease him, tracing the outline of him lightly through the thin fabric of his boxers. he’d groaned her name - almost in warning, and she smiled as she relented, pulling him out from the confines of the cloth.

she hadn’t exactly been proud of her expression in that moment - akin to an actress on a certain screen, if you caught her drift - except hers wasn’t a fake one. older men had always been a hit or miss for her in terms of dick size, but this one seemed to be the fucking hit.

he’d recovered in time to catch that look, leaning on his forearm to be able to reach his hand over and push her hair out of your face.

“shocked, sweetheart?” she didn’t take her eyes off him.

“excited, more like.” she pulled her hand lightly up and down his cock, spitting in her hand before continuing. the added lubrication made him moan through his teeth, and she didn’t give him a moment of reprieve, readjusting so she was at the perfect angle to lightly lick his tip.

he practically shuddered at the contact of the wet muscle on him, a hand going to weave the hair falling over her face away, and gripping her head maybe tightly than he intended to, as she placed feather-light, open-mouthed kisses from the top to the bottom of his cock. he didn’t say anything, his appreciation for the act moreso communicated through the squeezing and releasing of her hair, and his shuddered breaths and quiet, almost broken moans.

deciding she didn’t want to wait any longer, she wrapped her lips completely around him, taking him deeper and practically feeling him twitch as she sunk lower on him. he guided her movements slightly with his grip on her, pushing her down as he let loose to the feeling, and pulling her up lightly as she came too close to unraveling him.

breathing in deeply through her nose, she pushed down further on him, swallowing to suppress her gag as she felt her nose being tickled by the hair at his base.

“fuck, sweetheart.” the curse left his mouth almost aggressively, as he twitched behind her lips. her throat constricted around him, and she resurfaced, breathing heavily to make up for the lost air. he looks down at her, taking in her cock-drunk appearance as she sighed between his thighs. she lazily pulled her hand up and down his cock, as she caught her breath, “come up here, baby.” through both of their pants, she made out his request, getting up so that she was sitting on her knees, as he also rose to rest better against the headboard. he gestured her to some closer, and she placed a knee of either side of him, practically crawling up his legs.

the shorts she was wearing were his biggest obstacle at the moment, and he was quick to pull her up by the front of them, unbuttoning them in the process. a squeak emitted from her, shocked by the manhandling, and he was quick to pull them down her legs. her hands cover his, the both of them almost desperately taking them off and, once he’d finally done so, he focused his eyes to hers, his fingers sliding up her thigh and to her cunt. he traced her lower lips lightly, and she could feel her thighs tense, her breathing hitching.

noticing her reaction, he smiles, pulling her lips to his, and kissing her as he traced up and down her slit, placing the ghost of pressure on her clit. she almost jumps at the sensation, but the firm grip his other hand keeps on her hip stops her.

“don’t run away now, sweetheart.” it’s a whisper into the space between them, and she wordlessly nods, her hand going to his biceps and gripping as he applied more pressure, “tell me what you want.” she looked up at him, a mix of disappointment and frustration at the request.

“i…”

“you?” she cleared her throat, averting her gaze, and he used his free hand to direct her chin to look at him, “what d’you want?”

“i want you to fuck me.” she felt almost ashamed saying it, but he smiled in pride - a smug smile.

“we’ll have to get you ready, first; don’t ya think?” he dips the tip of his finger into her and she shudders again, her hips jumping lightly, causing him to squeeze her. she nods, humming, too focused on the movements of him fingers to properly answer. taking pity on her, he obliges, pushing a finger into her, and curling it up.

“oh, god.” the sensation makes every muscle in her tense, the sexual frustration piquing at the feeling, and simultaneous lack thereof. her head falls into the space between them, and he places an almost comforting kiss to the top of her head, before beginning to move his finger.

initially, he moved it in and out of her almost exploratively, as if he was trying to determine what exactly made her tick. it resulted in soft moans and cut-off breaths, before he heard something akin to a whimper when he’d found a particular spot inside her.

he pushed another finger in, making her noises only grow, gripping him tighter. he started moving in and out of her at a more rapid rate, his fingers curling, to the point where she was moaning so loudly that he was worried the neighbors would hear regardless of their relocation.

he took his lips to hers again, hoping to muffle her noises, and it worked, her mouth focused on feverishly returning his passion that she managed to swallow the majority of her moans. though, it didn’t help when she felt the knot inside her begin to tighten, her hips grinding against his fingers.

“y’gonna cum, sweetheart?” she couldn’t speak, worried she’d be too loud if she opened her mouth, so she nodded frantically, pushing more quickly against him as she chased her high, “that’s it, baby, cum for me, cum for me-” his encouragement almost made it easier, and she did cum, in something akin to a burst: her body fully stilled, as did his movements, and her eyes rolled into the back of her head, the hint of a squeal leaving her parched mouth. her voice sounded almost broken because of the intensity of it, and she practically leaped off of his fingers, unable to take the overstimulation as he had begun to move again.

“sorry - fuck, it’s too much, sorry-” he shook his head, assuring her immediately.

“it’s fine, sweetheart, you’re fine. ‘re ya ‘kay?” his accent came out more aggressively as he checked on her. she’d placed her hands over her face in an attempt to cool its warm flush, trying to catch her breath, as she nodded shakily.

“i’m - i’m, fuck, yeah, i’m fine.” she practically stuttered through her gasps, and he found it endearing, giving her a moment to compose herself. he adjusted the way she sat on him for her to be more comfortable, him fingers kneading the flesh of her thigh gently, hoping the contact would ground her.

it worked, with her taking her hands off her face after a few moments. her eyes had a far-away look to them, but she had a sheepish smile on her face.

“that was - uh, it was really good.” he smiled at her reaction, but it dropped after a moment.

“we can - we can stop, if ya want, sweetheart. if it’s too much-”

“no!” her response was so aggressive that it made him look at her in light amusement, “i mean, no. i don’t want to stop.” he surveyed her with an analytical eye.

“are ya sure?”

“joel, please?” she’d moved closer so her cunt sat inches from his cock, her warmth radiating onto him.

“i-” he went to say something, but seeing her flushed skin, her lust-blown eyes and the plea to fuck him, he seceded.

he pulled her up by her thighs, so she hovered over his cock. she used her hand to hold it steady, before he helped her lower onto him. it took a try or two, with his cock bumping against her clit and making her jolt. his tip caught her entrance in just another moment, though, and she took in a deep breath as she sunk onto him.

“fuck-” his response made up for her wordless one, her face contorting in pleasure as she tried to handle the size of him in her.

“joel-” she needed a moment to adjust, and it seemed as though he’d realized even before her.

“take your time, sweetheart.” she took a deep breath, sinking into joel’s arms further as she felt his thumb over her clit, trying to make the process easier for her.

finally, she mustered the strength to grip onto his shoulders, his hand finding a firm place on her waist, as she strained the muscles in her thighs to lift herself up. she felt a moment of aching emptiness, before she sunk back down on him, his cock catching practically every sensitive spot inside of her, making her moan.

it was a bit laborious, but along with his own effort, they came to a working rhythm seamlessly, and her moans began to be matched by his grunts at the feeling of her warm cunt, enveloping and twitching around him. she felt fucking amazing, and the warm breath of her gasps spurred him to push against her with just that bit more force. her eyes widened, her moans breaking as her breath caught in her throat. she felt her muscles turn to jelly with each thrust, practically being held up just by his hands. her head falls against his shoulder, her breath stuttering. his pace didn’t relent, though, with him readjusting just slightly to do the brunt of the work, fucking up into her as she tried not to let the pleasure consume her.

“joel - joel, you’re, oh, fuck-” she became a mess of mumbles as she attempted to just take it, but she felt her second orgasm oncoming, and way too quickly.

“c’mon, c’mon-” even joel wasn’t really registering what he was saying, focusing on feeling her cunt pulse again, like it had around his fingers. she didn’t make him wait too long, as her mouth fell open and her body tensed, clamming up as her orgasm crashed over her. his name came out in a squeak, and he resisted the urge to moan too loudly by attaching his lips to her neck, taking in the feeling of her pulsating cunt.

she slumped against him, desperately trying to catch her breath, before she was reminded her was still inside her. he helped her off of him and, before he could do anything else, she kneeled back in front of him, positioning her face right in front of his cock and stroking him to completion, his warm cum falling over her face in ropes.

“jesus christ, sweetheart.” he had to physically turn away from her, worried he’d get hard again at the sight, and she let out a tired laugh at his reaction. she rose from the bed after a moment of catching her breath, turning into her bathroom in order to clean herself up. it only took a minute or two, and by the time she’d walked back, joel had managed to pull his jeans back over him, and was desperately searching for his shirt. it was just by her feet, and she could give it to him.

but did she want to?

both of their heads snapped up when they heard the sound of the front door opening.

nicky - she’d come back at her sister’s previously preferred time, 5, and that had become increasingly problematic.

“shit-” she threw his shirt at him, and he caught it with one hand, trying to adjust the button of his pants with the other, “what do we-?” she questioned, as she pulled her shorts over her legs and shirt over her own head.

“just say ya were showing me around?” he suggested, and, through a shaky breath, she nodded.

“smart - smart, uh, do we-?” she gestured to herself, hoping she looked presentable, and the both of them gave each other a once over in approval that neither looked too disheveled, before they opened the door.

of course, those post-orgasm should never be told to rationally judge anything, as nicky and sarah could tell something was off from practically the moment their family members stepped out of the room.

“nicky? you didn’t have to be back so early, you know.” she said it quickly, without thinking, and, upon seeing joel’s what the fuck? expression, she realized how bad it sounded. nicky had, too, her brows furrowing as she turned to sarah, who simply shrugged in similar confusion.

“i’m sorry?” she watched as her sister - and then, to her surprise, mr. miller - came down the stairs.

“that’s not what i meant.” her sister mumbled, a sheepish smile on her face.

“dad, what’re you doing here?” sarah looks at her father quizzically, and he opens his mouth to speak, as she does at the same time.

“just - showing me around-”

“i’m giving him a tour!” they spoke over each other, and she glanced to look at him in slight embarrassment. he was trying his absolute hardest to keep from chuckling.

“anyways, sarah, we should get going. you two have fun?” sarah still looked between the both of them inquisitively, as nicky bore a glare at her sister, as if asking a question telepathically.

“lots of fun, dad.” it’s got an awkward delivery, so he coughs in an attempt to dissuade the tension, turning to her once more.

“it was nice meeting you, then - the both of you.” he smiled at nicky as well, before reuniting with his daughter.

“of course! it was great to see you again, too, sarah.” she mentioned, as she opened the front door for the both of them.

“see you around, sarah. good evening, mr. miller.” nicky spoke from behind her, and the millers nodded in goodbye. the front door shut with a click behind them.

there was a moment of silence between her and nicky, as she leaned against the door, before nicky broke into a big smile.

“i can’t believe you did that.” panic flashed over her face, and she whipped her head to face nicky.

“huh?”

“he’s so much older than you. and my friend’s dad, c’mon!” she sounded annoyed, but the exaggerated nature indicated that it was fake. she immediately tried to deny her sister’s completely true assertion, but the younger girl practically laughed in her face. she rolled her eyes at the reaction, brushing her off.

“shut up, nicky. he’s not even that much older than me.”

only a few meters away, sarah was trying very hard to suppress her own laugh.

“she’s really nice, right, dad?” joel, who had a faraway look in his eyes, hummed in response, prompting her to continue, “nicky��s sister. she’s really nice.”

“yeah - yeah, she is.” joel shrugged, unsure of how exactly to respond to his daughter. he looked down at her, and she had this glint of mischievousness in her eyes.

it worried him.

as he ushered her in when he’d unlocked the door, she’d made a beeline for her room. though, before she made her way up the stairs, she turned back for a moment, looking at him.

“and dad? you’re shirt’s on backwards.” she doesn’t wait for his response, walking up the stairs. shocked, joel looks down at his shirt, where the tag was practically looking him in the face. he sighed, closing the door behind him.

“shit.”

[loquaciousferret]

Seasons- Joel Miller

Summary: One scene for each season of one year of your relationship with Joel Miller, single dad and sweet Southern heartthrob.

He whispers in your ear, a low and husky tone to his voice that you haven’t heard before, “I want you, I want to make you mine forever.”

You shiver at his words, a rush of desire shooting through you. You pull him tighter to you in an embrace and you feel the hard length of him pressing into your stomach. It adds to your excitement.

He kisses you once again, his tongue exploring your mouth. He tasted like a combination of fiery whisky and wedding cake frosting. Strong and sweet, just like him.

OUT NOW- Read it here <3

[anchoeritic]

i just knowww joel would take care of u likeee. . . brushing your hair , bathing you he would nawt let u lay a single hand in the house he’d treat you good me thinks

he takes his father role seriously, i think. if we’re talking about pre-breakout joel, he probably makes the bed in the morning and irons the sheets. he wears an apron when cooking and likes to call you in the kitchen to give you a lil taste. he likes baby-ing the fuck outta you bcs he just loves taking care of people. his heart is warm, it’s whole.

don’t get me started on how he opens your side of the car door and puts your seatbelt on for you when you can most definitely do it yourself. he’s a biiiig gentleman. you taught him how to do your hair one time and now he insists on doing it every morning before he drops you off at work. he’s my dream man and i wanna protect him at all costs.

[kiwisbell]

Honey-Do [joel miller]

It’s Sunday, chore day, and Joel has a honey-do list item of his own: get his girl pregnant.

my masterlist!

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

rating: 18+ (mdni)

tags and warnings: pre-outbreak joel, married!joel, pure fluff and smut, slight au, body worship, some cock worship, handyman!joel, malewife!joel, joel “my wife doesn’t lift a finger in this home” miller, vague daddy undertones, overstimulation, joel miller is a munch, oral sex (m and f receiving), unprotected PIV (wrap it up unless you’re joel), creampie, breeding kink, actual breeding, talks of pregnancy, pregnancy kink, domestic bliss, joel’s love language being acts of service and by that i mean putting a baby in his wife, competence kink

word count: ~ 10k (someone stop me)

read on ao3!

a/n: hello, lovelies!! i received this ask ages ago and the idea inevitably snowballed because who is self-control?? does she go to a different school? anyway, this fic is pure plotless domestic fluff and domestic smut (is that a thing? yes!), so i really hope you all enjoy! pre-outbreak joel is very special to me xoxo

HONEY-DO

Your shared bedroom looks out over the eastern sunrise. A mutually-assured vigil, keeping one another safe—and timely. 

In the mornings, the golden light spills through the break in the curtains. It will peek slowly inside and gently warm your body awake, testing the limits of its power. When you roll over and make a soft groan of protest in your sleep, seeking more warmth, the little strip of sunlight will widen, directing you. You will find the body next to yours, nuzzling close, your nose bumping his bare chest, and settle happily against it. In return, his body will seek yours, symbiotic exchange, a greedy arm pulling you closer.

In frustration, the sun grumbles it way higher in the sky, shining brighter and spreading wider.

It takes a couple tries to get it right: to shine in just the right way to make you blink rapidly awake, squinting in the glow. You gradually come to life, your lungs sucking in the first deep breath of morning air, your naked body stretching like a cat in the sunspot. Dust hovers lazily in the air, heralding a Sunday occupied by chores. The room is still, silent, and kissed by morning rays. Peaceful.

You examine him in the light: tanned skin sparkling gold, plush lips slightly parted, broad chest rising and falling. His hair is pleasantly tousled from sleep. There are patches of silver beginning to thread through his dark brown beard, and in your self-sustaining state of affection, you gently put your lips to one of the patches of skin where hair does not grow. 

Your persistence grows with every second he refuses to wake. It may be a bit petulant, your lips smattering soft kisses across his jaw, beneath his ear, down to his neck and all its veins, but it begins to work. He stirs, groaning softly, turning onto his side and wrapping both arms around your waist. He does all of this without opening his eyes, resting his head on your belly and nuzzling against you as if he could get any closer—sated, for now, his body knowing nothing but the pull toward you. 

You comb your fingers through his messy hair and listen to him breathe while he listens to your heartbeat. 

“It’s ten,” you whisper.

“Hmph,” he says against your belly. He hasn’t opened his eyes yet; if you didn’t know his breathing patterns like they were mapped out in the lines of your palms, you would think he’s still sleeping. 

“We slept in,” you point out. 

Joel gently bumps his forehead into your stomach as if he were banging his head against a wall. “Shit,” he grumbles. 

You laugh as his moustache tickles your skin. “Do you want to get up now?”

Another grunt, accompanied by a shake of his head. Big, strong arms pull you closer. 

“I’ll make you breakfast,” you coo, stroking his hair away from his face. “Eggs… bacon… coffee…”

Joel presses his lips to your belly. “Don’t go takin’ my job, now,” he says, his voice groggy with disuse. “No girl of mine’s gonna run around gettin’ her own damn coffee.”

“Hmm. Means you have to move, Romeo.” 

This earns a playful smack to the side of your thigh, his big, callused hand kneading your flesh while he wakes himself up with mouthfuls of your scent—linen and vanilla—and gulps down the sunlight glowing on your skin. 

“Never mind,” you sigh, dreamy and complacent under his attention. 

His eyes finally crack open, peering up at you, honey-brown pools touched by the golden light. He rests his chin on your belly and keeps his arms wrapped around your hips. His fingers trace shapes up and down your lower back. “You got a honey-do list?” he asks with a crooked grin.

Your tongue wets your bottom lip. “That depends. Can I get you to mow the lawn without a shirt on?”

“What do I get if I do?” he teases, his hand moving to your hip, contouring his hand to the shape of you. 

You lift a brow, easing your legs apart underneath his body, letting him feel the warmth between your thighs. Like a moth to the goddamn flame, his eyes wide and eager, Joel crawls down your body with his mouth on your belly. Pausing just above your naked cunt, he blows cool air onto your clit and watches you squirm. 

“After,” you gasp. “After chores, honey. We’ll never get up if we start now.”

“Don’t think I can make my woman come in good time?” he challenges, his palms keeping your thighs spread. Your pretty pussy glistens before his eyes, better than any fuckin’ breakfast. He begins to salivate.

Your head falls back into the pillows. “I never said that.”

Joel isn’t listening anymore. He kneads your thighs as he peers at you above your belly, your tits, to the curve of your jaw as you lie comfortably. Good. His baby ain’t about to get herself worked up on a Sunday morning. 

He lowers his face just enough to let you feel his lashes tickling your lower belly, and you giggle his name, the sound pure adrenaline to his blood. You're so soft and supple under his fingers, moulding to his touch, letting him take care of you. You may be in charge of him, but this is where he takes control. 

He presses a soft kiss to your clit and you sigh, your head turning toward the direction of the sun. It warms your face while your husband slides his tongue through your wet slit, lazily and sleepily, as though he's operating on instinct alone. Gathering up your wetness on his tongue, he groans, his fingers dimpling your thighs. 

“Taste so fuckin’ sweet,” he murmurs. “Fuckin’ made for me.”

“Oh, God,” you whisper, your eyes fluttering. “Baby…”

That sweet little whine is poison. He cannot do anything but continue to drink you down, flicking his tongue against your clit. He's a sucker and he's always been. Your pretty fuckin’ smile from across the bar that first night; your tight black dress and the too-sweet cocktail you smooth-talked him into ordering that had his adenoids prickling; your instinct for sensing others’ troubles and your uncanny ability to make them feel like they have none at all. He never stood a chance. 

He knows for a goddamn fact every man in the bar that night wanted to do to you what Joel is doing now: lapping up your juices with his tongue, spit mingling with arousal, warming his body between your thighs under the watch of the mid-morning sun. But he got you. Joel. He bought you a drink and he took you on a date. He got to taste your pretty pussy and he got to sit you on his dick—after the second date, that is. 

He's the one who gets to wake up with you, share matching gold bands around your fingers, kiss you freely. As far as he's concerned, he's the luckiest guy on the fuckin’ planet. 

He feels particularly green when your back arches, your lips parting around his name, relishing in the feeling of his mouth on your clit. You're unashamed to take pleasure, never shy about telling him Oh, fuck, yes! Right there, honey! Joel, yes, that feels so good, baby. 

Joel preens with pride. His hot tongue glides over your clit, smooth and wet, easily coaxing you to a languid high. The golden spotlight through the curtains shines on you. You're the starlet and he's the adoring fan. From the first day, he knew he'd do anything to make you notice him. 

“This wasn’t your first bar fight, was it?”

Plucking pieces of glass out of his bloodied knuckles, you looked up through your lashes at Joel, who had been staring at you since you sat him down in the bathroom. Okay—a little longer than that. 

He shook his head. 

You just smiled at him and gently shook your head. About as much reproach as he would get. “This might sting. Just hold on tight if you need to.” 

“Like the sound of that,” he said quietly, and if you heard, you didn't comment. You guided his hand under the warm water and washed the rest of the blood from his knuckles, gently smoothing the pads of your fingers over his rough worker’s hands. Capable, you thought, idly watching the blood swirl into the drain. He barely winced when you put his hand under. 

“Wanna tell me why you did it?” you asked him, your tone soothing and sweet. 

Joel shrugged. Big, broad shoulders. Humbly strong, until someone made him show it. “Ain't manly to touch a woman like that.”

You lifted your brows. “But it's manly to beat the shit out of the guy who touched her?”

Joel studied your face. Cherry-red lip gloss. Gently flushed cheeks from a healthy couple drinks. The instinctual rise and fall of your chest as you breathed, the lighting shifting gently over your collarbones. It was fascinating just to watch you breathe. Even cleaning his bloody knuckles, you slowly circled the pad of your thumb over the back of his hand, like an innate urge to comfort. Your eyes had an old wisdom to them; a particular gleam a person gained when they were familiar with the hardships life had to offer. 

He wanted to ask you. He wanted to know everything. He wanted to do more than beat up some asshole who thought he could get away with pinching your ass. 

But he would earn it. A real man earned what he got. 

“Didn’t beat the shit out of him. Just roughed him up,” he says. 

He watched you bite down on a smile. “You're a little twisted, Joel.”

“Yeah?” He smirked, eyes flicking to your dewy lips, coated with that gloss. “Think so?”

“Yeah.” You licked your bottom lip and he wondered if you tasted like cherries. “But I'm going to ask you on a date anyway.”

Your fingers curl in Joel’s messy hair, making him groan into your pussy. “Oh, baby,” you gasp, cracking your heavy eyes open to watch him lap at you, practically petting his hair away from his face as his big brown eyes remain fixed to yours. 

He purrs, suckling your clit between his lips, his eyes eagerly drinking in the sight of your flushed, tightening body. Making you come is one thing. Watching it is another. Your back arches and your fingers pull on his hair. Scalp prickling, Joel grips your thighs tighter. He’d let you peel away pounds of his flesh if it made you happy. He’d go eagerly to the grave knowing he had put some good into the world, put some light in your eyes. 

“Joel, I’m… I’m coming—ah!” you cry, your thighs squeezing his head, your sensitive clit pulsing under his tongue as your pussy contracts around itself, seeking something nice and big to grasp onto. His cock is aching, his hips grinding idly against the mattress for relief, his head fuzzy from the pleasure of making you feel good. Your body slowly melts into the bed, your limbs twitching as the tension in your muscles loosens, your lips parted permanently around his name. 

Eyes drooping and teary, you try to find him between your thighs, gently stroking his hair away from his face as it begins to fall into his big brown eyes. “Need a haircut,” you croak.

Joel hums, his head listing to the side, using your soft thigh as a pillow. He nips you playfully, your skin a golden path he intends to follow to the end. His hands caress your hips, helping you come down to Earth. You admire the delectable convex slope of his nose, the way it curves deliciously against your skin when he kisses, bites, inhales. He’s freckled and indented with the signifiers of a lived-in life; a good life. His is a likeness you could trace with your eyes closed. 

It’s eleven o’clock, and your stomach begins to grumble. 

Joel chuckles, pressing a long kiss to your belly. “Gettin’ up now,” he says. “Promise.”

He pulls on a pair of sweatpants, tucking his hard cock away to be dealt with later. Padding down the stairs, Joel is quick to tend to your needs, putting on a fresh pot of coffee. After so long together, his mind operates on autopilot, steering him from the cupboard to the refrigerator and back to the steaming pot, occupied with the menial task of making a good cup. The gentle clinking scrape of the spoon as he stirs your milk into the cup wakes him up until he feels practically revitalised. He keeps his coffee black.

He hears the soft tread of your feet behind him, feels the warmth of your body as you crowd his space, smiles at the way you smooth your palms over the planes of his muscled back in unadulterated admiration. His shoulders are wide, tapering down to the soft belly you’ve nurtured through years of cooking. He’s sturdy and strong and all yours. The sight of him always makes you a bit giddy. 

“So handsome,” you whisper, wrapping your arms around his middle and pressing your face between his shoulder blades. The buffed claws of his woodsy pine scent hook into the spaces between your ribs. 

Joel lifts your hand to his mouth and kisses the wedding band on your finger, the engagement ring above it. “Sit down, baby. Coffee’s ready.”

You grin against his back, nudging your nose into his tanned skin. “Mmm. That sounds good. But I wanna stay here. ‘s nice and warm.” 

“Girl of my dreams,” Joel murmurs, reaching around his back and patting your ass. “C’mon, I’ll keep you warm.”

You grumble your way to the little circular table in the kitchen, tucked into the alcove at the front window. It’s a souvenir from your parents' garage sale when they decided to sell their home and move to Austin. As a girl, you’d draw, scratch, and paint on that table, endlessly entertaining yourself by marking things up. Even now, there are remnants of your childhood in the worn grooves and chipped varnish. It fits nicely into your home, perfectly suited to two. It could even fit one more. 

You ruminate as you watch Joel carry two mugs to the table. He knows which cup is your favourite: green ceramic decorated with tiny flowers, perfectly contoured to the shape and size of your hands, warming your palms just nicely between sips. Joel’s mug shows its age: white but slightly yellowed from years of use, bigger than yours. The steam of the coffee gently curls into the air, a dance of silvery ribbons in lock-step. They twist together as you purse your lips and blow. The rich, smooth caramel hue of your coffee contrasts the tar-black of Joel’s. 

Since you dragged yourself out of bed on shaky legs, you shrugged on the navy T-shirt he tossed aside last night to give his greedy wife access to his chest. You'd carved some decent marks into his skin, now that you're properly looking: tiny bruises sharpening to purple, faint pinkish scratch marks that you don't remember making. 

“Baby, I don’t mind,” he says, watching you scan his chest with a frown creasing your brow. 

“But it looks painful, honey. You should let me—”

“You don’t gotta do anything,” says Joel, “‘cept come over here.”

Your brows lift coyly, your body sliding out of the chair and into his lap, legs bracketing his strong thighs. His hand finds a home on your lower back, bunching the hem of his shirt up to find your ass bare, your wet cunt sitting nice and pretty on his hard cock. You gasp when the generous length meets your puffy clit with heavy pressure. “Joel…” 

Your voice is a mere whimper, a soft little plea for more, or for mercy. Joel’s always had better restraint than you. 

“Warmer now?” he asks, like a real arrogant asshole, slipping his hand under the shirt on your body and splaying his fingers over your ribcage, thumb grazing the underside of your breast. 

You do feel warmer, crushed up against him like this. You reach behind you and grab your coffee mug, taking a small sip. Your other hand winds around his neck and scratches the tousled hair at the nape of his neck. Joel hums, leaning close, nuzzling his face between your tits. 

“Gimme the list,” he says, voice muffled. 

You keep on stroking his hair and drinking your coffee between list items. “Mow the lawn. Clean out the eavestrough. Fix the sink.”

“Hmm, easy work,” he says, his other hand sliding up and down your back. It makes you melt into him even more, giving him the chance to tease a nipple between his teeth through the fabric of your shirt. You huff, wiggling your hips, but he's a brick wall. He does not budge. “Gimme yours, baby.”

You recall the items on your own list. “Vacuum the house. Go for groceries. Touch up the paint on the front door. Do the laundry. Cook dinner. Cut your hair,” you add with a playful smile. 

Joel frowns against your chest, pulling back to look up into your eyes like a grumpy, needy dog. “You put all that down for yourself?”

You try to placate him with a kiss on his nose. “You work so hard, sweetie. I could use some hard labour once in a while.”

Joel shakes his head. “You aren’t doin’ all that by yourself.”

“No?” You lift your brows. “Wanna buy it off me, Mr. Miller?”

“I’ll win ‘em from you,” he says, tilting his head back to kiss your jaw. “Name the price.”

You bite your lip and chase his mouth, plush and soft under that dark moustache. “I’ll think on that. Meantime, you can get to work on that lawn while I watch from the comfort of the front porch. That sound fair?”

Joel’s old Southern values rear up every now and then, imparted by his mother and his father’s mother before. Putting in an honest day’s work will make his wife comfortable and happy. He doesn't want you lifting a finger around this home if he's perfectly capable of doing the job himself. He works with his hands all day, gets dirty and sweaty. You shouldn't have to—not when you work so damn hard every other day of the week. 

Joel nips your chin. “Fine. But I ain’t gonna forget that I owe you.”

“Wouldn't dream of it, baby.”

Joel finishes his coffee, but you take your time with yours, changing into a short blue sundress while Joel, regrettably, puts a pair of jeans and a shirt on. Curling your legs up on the porch swing, you watch your man start the lawnmower, enthralled by the rippling of his back muscles with every pull. You know that some of it’s for show—knowing you're watching makes him want to impress you. Sometimes, he's still the man with the teenaged crush on the girl, doing everything he can and going out of his way to make you smile. It works. 

He’s methodical: making lines up and down the lawn, shearing away the too-long blades of grass under the motor. As sweat begins to bloom under his collar and his brow, he wipes his forehead with his forearm and you lick your lips, saliva pooling in your mouth at the thought of running your tongue all over his strong, naked body. Jesus. You finish off your coffee and force your eyes away from your husband for a moment. It isn't too hot from where you sit on the wraparound porch, but your chest feels sticky. 

You rush inside to fill up a glass of water for him, hastily scrubbing your mug clean and putting it back in the cupboard. Maybe you should be occupying yourself with your chores today; you worry nothing will get done if you continue to watch him work in the Texas sun. 

He’s just finishing when you shoulder your way back outside, his neck glistening with sweat and golden noon-hour light, warm and tempting. You set the glass on the railing and wait for him to come your way, squeezing your thighs together as your eyes trail up and down his body. 

He's always been a capable man, broad and tall—so good at his job that he was offered a promotion after a few months. But it isn't just his strength or his doggedness when it comes to getting his work done. It's the way he’s so eager to finish things, to check off the items on your list, to please you. He frowns at the idea of you doing too much work. He parades you around town with a puffed-up chest, as if to announce, This is my wife. I’m her husband and I’m fucking proud. He takes your pleasure so seriously that it feels like a competitive sport—always outdoing himself, always striving for more. He loves selflessly, and yet he loves just selfishly enough to make sure the world knows you're his. 

He’ll be a good daddy.  

You glance down at your belly and let yourself picture it: swollen and round, ballooning big enough to fit a new life inside. You imagine smoothing your hand over a growing bump, Joel’s warm palms feeling the undulating kicks of a little baby inside, half of him and half of you. You picture back aches and swelling feet and insatiable cravings and expended energy. And not a part of it deters you. Not a speck of your willpower wavers, the way it would have mere months ago. 

Something has changed. It may have been gradual and it may have been sudden. But it's new, all the same. It’s been this way since a week ago, when you looked in your nightstand at your little pink pill organiser labelled by weekday, and decided: No more.

Watching Joel make his way back to you, shielding his eyes from the light, you idly place your hand on your belly. Something new. A welcome change, you think, to have someone new sitting at our little table. 

Joel climbs up the steps to the porch and gulps down the glass of water. “Thank you, baby,” he says, wiping his mouth. Your lips part as if to taste the air around him, to chew, to savour, relishing the richness. 

Your pupils expand, taking in more of him, and Joel notices, placing a rough hand over yours where it rests on your belly. “You’re lost in thought, honey. Wanna tell me what's in that pretty head?”

“Just…” Your tongue wets your bottom lip. “Thank you for doing that. I know it's a big job.”

“Ain’t nothin’,” says Joel, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Got any idea how I can win those chores off you?”

Hands grasping your hips, sliding over your sweat-slick spine, saccharine noises slipping from your throat onto your tongue and out into the open air. Fingers imprinting permanent fixtures into your ribs. The heady weight of his big, fat cock wrenching you open, as it always does, slow until it isn't anymore. Desperation kicking in, a switch flipped, pummeling and brutal and unforgiving. Uncompromising. Hips pressed flush to your ass, nothing spilling out. Not a drop. 

Everything sealed in tight as promises are exchanged as whispers in the dark. 

“I want you to put a baby in me.”

All right. You could have been more delicate about it. Not precisely how you wanted to approach the topic, but it seems to get the job done. 

Looking down at you, Joel slowly lowers the empty glass, mouth opening as he searches for words. “What?”

There’s no point in shyness or hesitation. You know your body, your mind, your heart. You thread your fingers through Joel’s and let them stay connected over your stomach. “I want you to give me a baby, Joel Miller,” you say softly, your gaze locked to his. “That's my price.”

Joel swallows thickly, his mouth still gaping. “I heard you,” he rasps. “Just… you… you mean it?”

You try not to melt over the tone of his voice: low, bordering on desperate, wanting. There’s hunger in the sound of it. “We’ve talked about it,” you offer, conciliatory. “Lots of times.”

“Yeah, we have.” Joel steps closer, his eyes dipping from your eyes to your mouth, your throat and collarbones, to your belly. His hand flexes. “You gotta be sure. You gotta know it's what you want.”

You cup his face and give him your best smile. It's the sort of smile he remembers from the very first night you met. The sort of person who is unashamed to show their joy on their face. “Honey, I want it all with you.” Your fingers squeeze his. “We’ve waited so long and I don’t want to wait anymore.”

His ears are ringing. All Joel can do is sweep you into his arms and grin into your throat, his hand firm on the back of your head, curling around a fistful of hair. “Girl of my fuckin’ dreams,” he mumbles against your skin. “I’ll make you a momma. Give you just what you want. Everything you want.”

As you close your eyes and open your ears to his ramblings, your erratic heartbeat settles. Serenity finds the pair of you, locked together on your front porch, and the next part of your life begins. 

“Don’t think this gets us out of doing chores,” you tease. 

“You aren’t gonna lift a goddamn finger,” says Joel fiercely, his lips still littering kisses all over your neck. “You’re havin’ a baby.”

“Honey, I’m not pregnant yet,” you laugh. “I don't need to get all lazy right away.”

“Yeah, you do, and you will. I’m gonna make you the laziest momma in Texas,” says Joel, smiling into your throat, the scratch of his moustache making you dizzy with laughter. “Gonna look so fuckin’ beautiful with a baby in you. Gonna glow like a goddamn firefly. Shit, we need to paint the spare room. I need to build a crib, get time off work—”

“Joel,” you coo, scratching your nails up and down the back of his neck. “We’ll have time to do all of that.”

He pulls back to look down at you, eyes so buttery-soft in the shade of the porch that you impulsively reach for his cheek and run your fingers through his patchy beard. “What’s next on my list?” he asks, holding you around the waist. 

You tap your fingers gently against his cheek as you recite each item over again. Joel’s arms tighten, pulling you closer, pupils widening. 

“And then what?” he says gruffly.  

You beam, and he's so fucking in love that he may keel over, doubled by the intensity of his affection. “And then, you're going to take me to bed and put a baby in me.”

This phenomenon should be studied: how quickly Joel Miller speeds through his chores when he has enough incentive. The anticipation of bending you over on the mattress and wringing every drop of cum from his balls until your stomach swells drives each flick of his hand as he touches up the forest-green paint on the front door, weathered slightly by morning sunlight over the years. The image of his hips pressed flushed to you as he grinds deep, spilling his cum into your womb and forcing it to take, motivates every turn of the steering wheel as he drives you to the grocery store in his clunky Chevy. 

He’ll need to drive to Benny’s, get the suspension fixed up; no way in hell he's going to let his pregnant wife sit on the old bench of a bumpy pickup truck, not with the speed bumps dotting the neighbourhood. At least there's a good preschool nearby. He pictures taking his baby to school and he preemptively feels the inevitable first swoop of dread into his gut knowing he'll have to watch his little girl disappear behind those doors. He knows, somehow, that it’ll be a girl. There's not a doubt in his mind. 

“What are you thinkin’ about?” you ask him, playing with his fingers as he holds your thigh. Joel is a great driver; he steers so easily, one palm sliding smoothly over the wheel, his eyes alert and his speed under control. It’s a little sexy, and it makes you antsy from where you sit on the bench. Sure, there are chores to do and there’s dinner to make, but it’s getting harder to push your innate needs to the back of your mind. You don't know if you can wait all day to get him inside you. 

“Names,” he says. “Got lots of ideas.”

“Yeah? Fire away.” 

“Well, I like Eleanor. Good, strong, classic name, y’know? Little wordy, maybe. Then there's Mary, Marie, Hannah, and I can tell you don't like any of ‘em,” he finishes with a laugh, squeezing your thigh. Your silence has always been a tell.

“They're very sweet names,” you concede, “but they don't feel like my baby.” 

Joel’s hand slides up to your belly and warms you beneath your dress. “Maybe we’ll feel it,” he says, “when we make her.”

“Think it’ll happen on the first try?” you wonder aloud, watching the scenery whiz by outside. It's a sunny, temperate day for Austin. You think about taking your baby for a walk, lounging lazily in a stroller while you say words that fall on deaf ears, but will resonate in due time nonetheless. You think about a little girl that will cling hard to her daddy’s leg when she gets scared of the storms outside, the way you did when you were little. You think about long nights shushing your sweet baby girl to sleep, about those same nights spent nestled into Joel’s body, the three of you dozing idly on the sofa. A unit. 

“If it doesn’t, I’ll just have to try again.” You watch his fingers creep back down between your legs and snap the waistband of your panties. 

You smack his hand. “If you keep playin’, Mr. Miller, you're gonna have to take me right here, in this truck. You want to give your wife a bad back?”

Joel grunts, patting your thigh. “Dirty play.”

“That's what I thought.”

Back at home, Joel vacuums the house while you manage, some-fuckin’-how, to convince him to let you do the laundry. He fishes debris and runoff out of the eavestrough, then gets down on his bad knees to tighten the plumbing underneath the sink. 

“Let me help, sweetie. At least hand you a wrench or something. You'll hurt your back again.”

“I got it,” he grunts from under the sink. “Just a loose pipe. I’m peachy.”

You just sigh and let him carry on, the stubborn bastard. When he stands, the job done, he lifts the hem of his shirt to wipe the sweat off his forehead, and you get a generous glimpse of his belly, the trail of dark hair directing your gaze down, down—

“Joel?” you squeak, wringing your hands together. 

He drops the shirt back over his abdomen and steps closer. “Yeah, baby?”

“Are you, um… Are you hungry?” 

He understands the particular glint in your eye, the telltale widening of your pupils, the hollow of your throat dipping as you swallow, your lashes fluttering gently. Blood surges down to his cock and it begins to fill out his jeans at the thought of taking what he's waited for all day. “No,” he says, licking his bottom lip. You eye every minute movement with meticulous precision. “Think dinner can wait.”

“I was thinking the same thing,” you say, crowding him and tugging at the hem of his shirt. He watches you prowl slowly toward him, gaze locked to the heady pull of your eyes. His cock twitches with a vested interest in the body now pressed up against him. Joel cannot look away from the siren now calling him to sea. 

“That so?” he rasps, bunching the fabric of your dress so it rides up your hip and gives him a good look at your panties. “You dressed up all pretty today. For me?”

You're as coy as a flirtatious schoolgirl, trailing your fingers up and down his muscled bicep. “Always for you.”

“That’s right, baby. You like me lots, don't you?”

“Mmm, I do,” you purr, your hand sliding up his abdomen to his chest, admiring the hard planes of his strong body. “So handsome, strong, generous…” You get lost in your exploration, eyes dipping to his throat, your lips instinctively seeking the delectable vein that pulses with every beat of his heart. “Such a good man. Gonna be such a good daddy.”

Joel’s breath shudders out of him when he feels your soft, warm mouth on his neck, indulging in the taste of him. “Jesus,” he croaks, gripping your hips hard. “Jesus, honey, you gotta go easy on me. Lemme take it slow—”

—or I swear to God, I’ll blow a load in my jeans. 

“You wanna undress me?” you say, like a real fucking tease, pulling away and tugging playfully at the straps of your dress. Joel’s nostrils flare, and he’s walking you back into the wall, cupping the back of your head to protect it, and slanting his mouth over yours. 

He’s salty with the sweat that drips from his temples and he still smells of fresh-cut grass. He’s all Joel, all yours, the first gulp of air you breathe in when you wake and the last sigh you exhale before you sleep. 

You moan into his mouth as he parts your lips and dips his tongue between them to taste yours. You taste like mint and coffee and he clutches you tighter, wrinkling the fabric of your pretty little dress in his fist. The sunlight filters through the windows, intrusive, bleeding into the moment as if taking a snapshot. Joel kisses you so deeply that your throat feels stained with the gasps of breath you exchange. 

You're sweet enough that it makes him ache, bending your back to fit you to him, craving more. Closeness is not enough—he needs possession. 

Joel’s kisses are bruising, unforgiving, merciless, but they are also slow, careful. He isn't sloppy; he does precisely what must be done to get you riled. And when he breaks away, his forehead resting against yours, you tug his hair with a pitiful whine. 

“I wasn't done,” you tell him. 

Joel pouts, mocking. Fingers pull at the straps of your dress until you're watching it pool at your feet. His big hands find your tits immediately, squeezing out all his frustrations, tweaking your nipples and lowering his mouth to your throat. 

Your fingers curl into his hair, glueing him to you while he marks your throat, sucking blood to the surface, retribution for the hickeys all over his chest. His warm palms explore your tits the way he likes, and you curve into him, giving him all the access he wants. “Joel, honey—”

Your voice is nectar, warmth from a fire on the Fourth of July, the stomach-cramping laughter around the flame. Joel groans, blindly searching for your hand with his face still nuzzled in your throat, sucking a particularly aggressive bruise that you’ll scold him for later. But he threads his fingers through yours and feels the cool kiss of your twin wedding bands, and your sweet, wispy sighs have him grinding absently against your thigh. You don't have half the mind to get mad at him for a goddamn thing. 

He pulls away with a great yank of his self-restraint, still holding your hand. “C’mon, baby.”

You follow dutifully, staring up at your husband with the same moony eyes you gave him on your wedding day. The third stair creaks a bit, the way it always does. The bedroom door is first on the left, and it's a good fucking thing, because Joel can't wait any longer. 

He walks you to the edge of the bed, stalking, a predator on prey, focused solely on his task. “Goddamn beautiful,” he says to himself, scanning your mostly-naked body and feeling his eyes droop in arousal. 

“Think so?” Your hand drops between your bodies and palms his erection over his jeans. “Yeah, you really think so.”

His nostrils flare. “Sit.”

You lower yourself onto the mattress, primly placing your hands on your thighs and straightening your spine. Joel hums appreciatively, approaching you and slotting himself between your legs. There's a dark wet spot pooling in your panties. “Sweet thing. So needy all fuckin’ day.”

“So were you” is your retort, packing little punch due to the way you push your tits toward him like a fucking whore. 

Joel presses his big, warm hand to your sternum. “Remember what you said to me the first time I got you in bed?”

“‘Let’s go again’?”

“The other thing.”

“'Let me suck your dick’?”

“Try again, baby.”

“‘Wrong hole’?”

Joel snorts, shaking his head. “Goddamn smartass,” he mutters. “Told me you wanted me from that first night. Told me you woulda let me fuck you against that bathroom mirror.”

His hand begins to move, rolling your nipple between his fingers like a cigarette, playing with you the way he likes. “Said you’d let me do whatever I wanted,” Joel says quietly, not meeting your eyes, transfixed by the way your body seeks the touch he gives you. “That still true?”

“I meant it then, and I mean it now,” you tell him, pulling your lip between your teeth. “I’m yours, Joel Miller.”

He tilts his head slightly, satisfied. “You got somethin’ you wanna ask me?”

You hook a finger in his belt loop. “Can you get naked now?”

He laughs, guiding your hand to the buckle on his belt. “Go on. Do what you wanna do, baby.”

He belongs to you. He’s yours to mould the way you want. 

Your fingers do away with his belt, whipping it out of the loops and hanging it around your neck. Joel’s hands flex at his sides as you toy with the hem of his shirt, bringing it slowly up his torso with your palms flat to his tanned skin. 

You imagine you're sculpting him like clay, bringing your hands over the contours and admiring the work when all is done. It’s the artist’s pride of finishing the work and none of the self-reproach when something comes out wrong, because it’s Joel, and wrong becomes negligible. 

You bring the shirt over his head with his assistance, lifting his arms for you, tossing the thing aside with little care. His eyes haven't once wavered from you. Next are his jeans, the scrape of his zipper and the delectable anticipation of hooking your fingers in the waistband and guiding them slowly down his hips. 

His cock springs forward, thick and heavy and so hard it must ache, as you shuck his jeans down with his boxers. He grunts above you, his cock bobbing at the sight of your pretty lips parting. But you don’t take him into your mouth. You grasp the base of his cock and gently nuzzle your cheek against his length. Something like a strangled whimper leaves his throat. 

“Baby,” he chokes. 

“Yes, honey?” you say sweetly, looking up at him through your lashes. 

“Jesus,” he says through his teeth. “You’re so fuckin' sexy. Fuck.”

You hum, slowly stroking your hand up and down as your tongue darts out to lick his balls. Joel’s hips stutter, his hand flying out to catch himself on the bedpost. “Goddamn. Jesus—”

Your coy smile knocks him askew, your lips pursing as you spit on the head of his cock, spreading your own saliva around the tip with your thumb. “I just wanna thank you”—a soft kiss to the tip has a rumbling groan crawling out of his throat—“for everything you do for me. I just want you to know how much I love you.”

Joel exhales hard, struggling to remember how breathing works when he's got his wife playing with his cock like it's your favourite toy. “How much do you love me?” he demands. 

You wrap your fingers around the head of his cock and twist your hand up and down his shaft in a couple slow strokes. You're driving him fucking crazy. His vision is whiting out. 

“I love you,” you purr, licking a broad stripe up the underside of his length. Joel’s chest is heaving with the effort of holding back. “Love you so much. Love you enough to make you a daddy.”

Joel caves, threading his fingers through your hair at the nape of your neck and stroking his thumb along your jaw. “Fuck, baby. Please…”

“Do you love me?” Batting your lashes, you scatter measured kisses from his tip to the base, teasingly licking his balls. 

“Christ, I—” His hips jut forward instinctively. “I love you. Fuckin’ love you, baby.”

You flick your tongue against his slit and relish his groan, revelling in the sight of his flushed chest, his pink cheeks, the sweat on his brow. His jaw is tense, his nostrils flaring. He’s trying not to take control. 

You slap his cock twice on your tongue and finally take it past your lips, sealing your mouth over the head. Joel moans, white-knuckling the bedpost, his other hand now stroking your hair. You fondle his balls in your free hand while the other grips him at the base, and he’s going to come embarrassingly soon if you keep looking up at him this way. 

Your tongue swirls around the head of his cock while your lips seal tight, greedily suckling at his tip. Oversensitive, skin prickling with salty sweat, Joel practically breathes through his teeth. “Gonna kill me,” he manages. “You’re gonna kill me, honey.”

“Mmmm,” you reply, happily taking him deeper, his length sliding along the warm wetness of your tongue. Joel’s fingers tighten in your hair. 

“Fuuuuck. You love this cock.”

“Mmmhmm.”

“Love takin' me into your mouth like a little slut.”

“Mmmmph,” you agree, pushing your tits out. 

His hand drifts down to the belt hanging around your neck and he wraps his fist around both ends, tugging so you’re forced to take him deeper. You splutter, breathing hard through your nose, your arousal dripping onto the mattress. 

The sloppy sounds of your mouth working his cock send his head spinning. Drool dribbles from the corners of your lips, your eyes squeezing black tears from dewy lashes. And when you take him down your throat, the sound of your choked moan leaves Joel with little choice but to pull out before he comes. 

You whine, squeezing your thighs together. He swipes his thumb underneath your eye and shows you the black smudge from your mascara. “Doesn't take much to get you cryin’. You like me that much?”

You bite your bottom lip and beam up at him. “Did I do okay?”

Your faux-innocence makes his dick twitch in your face, and you flick your tongue out to lick at the tip once more. Joel grunts, grasping his belt and tossing it away. 

“‘Did I do okay,’” he murmurs, tweaking your nipple between his fingers. “Got no idea after all these years. No idea what you do to me.”

“I just wanna take care of my man. He works so hard, you know, keeping me safe and happy.” You run your hand over his soft belly, the trail of hair that leads down to his cock. “He’s always liked to give me things.”

Joel backs you farther up the bed and crawls over your body, lowering his head to bury his face in your throat. You smell fresh and sweet as vanilla, and when he playfully bites into your skin, your saplike laugh has him grinding helplessly against your thigh. 

He loves to give—always has. It’s all he knows. It took a long while for you to get him to unlearn some of his blind selflessness, to let you take control sometimes and care for him instead. Your Joel provides; he does not take. And the prospect of getting to give his wife a baby is turning him to putty in your hands. By the time he gets to work, he’ll be dead-set on his task, hard-pressed to pull out of you. He’ll want to get the job done on his first try, refusing to see you upset if the test comes back negative, but the id will still scratch and claw for another chance to fill you up. 

Joel sucks a hickey into your neck and soothes the mark with his tongue, the slow, soft pleasure compounded by the way his warm body covers you, your fingers carding through his locks. 

Your voice oozes, honeyed, down his spine. “I love you, Joel.”

He squeezes his eyes shut and crushes his nose in your throat, his hand smoothing down your hair. “I love you.”

“You want to make a baby?”

He rears back slightly, his nose bumping against yours. “Yeah. I really fuckin’ do.”

You grin, lacing your fingers together at the back of his neck. “Will you fuck me? Please?”

Joel brushes his thumb across your chin. “Use your words.”

“I want to be a mom, Joel.” You give him a long, gooey stare, eyes warm and soft as running water. A look like that will make a man give you the goddamn galaxy. 

He nods, pressing a soft kiss to your mouth. “I know, baby. I’ll help you. Hands and knees, now.”

The gentle direction moulds your body to the shape of the words. You go easily, your back arching as you rest your weight on your forearms and spread your thighs. The bed dips behind you as Joel settles in, his hands grasping your ass and making you jump. 

Your body trembles with excitement. You’re going to be a mom. He's going to get you pregnant. You feel dizzy, bending deeper at the hips and shaking your ass at him, deluded with your own arousal. 

But Joel doesn't fuck you right away. No, he bumps up against the backs of your thighs, warm hands branding your skin, and rubs two fingers over the wet spot darkening your panties. 

“I do this to you?” he says smugly. 

“You know damn well—”

“Wanna hear you say it.” The no-nonsense command triggers a submissive response. “Who did this to you?”

Your body melts against him, presenting your pussy to him like a needy whore. “You, Joel. It’s you, baby. Only you.”

Your babbling makes him squeeze handfuls of your ass, spreading your asscheeks apart to get a good glimpse of the way your pussy drools into your panties. Shuffling backward and lowering himself to his knees on the floor, Joel’s tongue darts out and licks you through your underwear. 

“Ohh, fuck!” you gasp. “Joel…”

He hums, tasting your tang through the fabric and finding your puffy clit, sucking gently. You cry out, your fingers grasping the sheets, and Joel moves your panties aside to slather his spit all over your dripping pussy. The languorous movements of his tongue are indulgent, achingly slow; he loves the taste of you as much as you enjoy having his mouth on your cunt. 

“Oh my God, Joel… fuck, honey, please—!”

Your thighs are trembling as you struggle to hold yourself up, the strokes of his tongue turning your muscles to soup. He stops to take your panties off, guiding them off your legs, and by now, you're so wet that your juices glisten halfway down your thighs. Joel dives back in and licks up the rivulets of arousal from your skin, all the way back up to your weeping hole. 

“So goddamn sweet,” he grumbles, kneading your ass in his hands as he flicks his tongue over your clit a few more times. 

“Joel, I’m…” You’re drooling, grinding pathetically into his face, already close to an orgasm, and he isn't fucking letting up. 

He wants you as wet and needy as possible, his own cock leaking onto the bedsheets at the prospect of sliding into your creamy pussy. 

Your cheeks burn and your muscles lock as Joel makes out with your pussy, his tongue laving over your pearl in slow, aching circles. He drowns in the pleasure of making you feel good. He soaks himself in kerosene and lights the match. 

“Oh, fuck!” Your thighs shake around his head and your toes curl, ears ringing with the force of your high. Grasping feebly at the bedsheets, you try not to list, but Joel isn’t fucking stopping, cleaning you up with his tongue like you're a piece of goddamn pie. 

His fingers dig into your ass, rapacious as his mouth, and you climb high to a space that transcends the sky, feeling nothing but the linen underneath and the man above, softly kissing your poor, used clit. 

He doesn’t let up until you reach back and gently shove his head away, grasping his damp curls. “Baby, let me rest,” you gasp, “just for a second.”

Regretfully, he pulls away, pressing a kiss to each knob of your spine, dragging his nose up your back. “‘m so fuckin’ lucky,” he murmurs against your skin. 

“Lucky you didn’t kill me.” You laugh breathlessly, your hips already sore from keeping your ass in the air. 

“Makin’ sure you’re ready,” he says innocently, sliding his thick fingers through your slit. You gasp, trying to escape his grasp despite yourself. He just clicks his tongue in reproach. “Nuh-uh, baby. You're gonna stay right here, let me make it good for you. Hmm? Wanna feel good?”

You nod your head frantically. “Yeah, yeah, I do. Wanna be good.”

“Mmm, now, you know that ain't your job tonight,” he says in a mock scold. In the meantime, his fingers soak themselves in your wetness. “Don't think you're ready for me yet.”

“No! No, I’m ready,” you pant, grinding against his erection. Joel grunts, holding your hip in place. “Baby, please, I’m ready for you. Need you so badly.”

“Shhh, sweetheart. I'll give you what you need. Just be patient.” Hands smooth over your ass, between your thighs, and then two fingers are teasing your hole. Joel tilts his head to watch the way he spreads your folds wide. “Gonna fill this up.”

A strangled noise spills from your mouth, your cheeks burning hot at the way he exposes you so tenderly. “Please,” you croak, hiding your face in the crook of your elbow. 

He grasps himself and teases the already-wet head of his cock over your pussy, spurting precum onto your hole. “You want a baby?” he asks, low and dark. You luxuriate in the velvet-soft tone. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want a baby,” you whisper, “please. Please give me a baby.”

He readies himself at your tight cunt and the excitement briefly overcomes him, forcing his hips forward and pushing past the wet, gummy seal of your pussy. You gasp, held in place by his hand on your hip. 

“What. Do. You. Want?”

“I want to make you a daddy!” you sob. “I want to have your baby and make you a daddy.”

“You want to be a momma?” he says through his teeth, tunnel vision narrowing his focus to the way he slowly guides himself into you, wrenching you open. At this angle, with how wet you are, the glide is delicious, white-hot, his balls heavy with the need to empty inside you. “That it? Want everyone to know who put a fuckin’ baby in you?”

Your husband is so fucking big, so strong, and the way he pins your body down feels close to primal. “Yes! Yes, Daddy, yes! I want to be a momma. Please give me a baby.”

The words put a chisel to his self-restraint and crack down. He’s gone, baring his teeth, pulling your hips toward him and impaling you on his cock, relishing the give of your tight walls and the way he sits snug against your cervix. You mewl, reaching back to find a purchase on his hip. “Joel, fuck…”

He establishes a punishing pace, driving your body farther up the bed with every thrust. “That’s it,” he groans, sliding his palm up your spine. “Gonna look so goddamn beautiful with a baby in you. You were fuckin’ made to take this cock.”

Your moan is syrupy and pitched low, your cheek buried in the mattress, letting him fill you up again, again, again—

“I’ll get you fuckin’ pregnant,” continues Joel, panting through his words, sweat beading on his brow as he runs his hands over your skin. “Stuff you so goddamn full you'll always feel me.”

“Uhhh!” you moan, fisting the sheets, your body practically folded in half to accommodate your husband’s huge body, his thick cock.

Joel wants this, too—has for a long time. It’s hard not to notice the little details. He places his hand on your belly when he isn't even paying attention, his lips finding the soft skin there when he first wakes in the morning. You knew he would have dropped everything to give you a baby the second you demanded it, but you realise you may have underestimated his need. 

Joel is growling like a dog, sweat dripping from his temples and back pinching with effort as he holds your body close, glueing you to him, his cock reaching deep, deliberate, mind going numb, intent the only tangible feeling he can grasp onto. Intent and the white-hot drag of his cock against your walls. 

You’re going to grow swollen and round with his baby. He will watch your tits grow heavy, your belly bulge, your cheeks take on a ruddy, dewy glow, the telltale mark of his success, his devotion. He’ll wake up every morning wrapped in the scent of your body, your hormones, his palm finding sanctuary on your soft, warm belly. He’ll bury his face in your throat and you’ll smile and the sun will warm the golden spot where a new life grows. 

Fuck, he’ll never let you do laundry again. You could hurt your back. 

Your head spins at the wet slap of his balls against your clit, the obscene squelch of your pussy around his impressive length, the way he grabs at you. He’s greedy, hands mapping each rib, each vertebrae, every curve and contour that makes you. 

Your pussy sucks him in, just as needy, breathless moans and squeals punching out of your throat as you croak out pleas: Joel, baby, please. I want a baby so badly. Wanna have your baby. Please, please, fill me up! And Joel listens, his palm sliding around your waist and down your belly, rubbing your sensitive clit with two fingers. 

A real man gives his wife everything she wants. 

He moans at the feeling of your cunt squeezing him, his fingers wet and insistent against your little clit, coaxing you toward your climax. “C’mon,” he grunts, “come for me, baby. Fuckin’ choke me. Wanna feel it. Come and I��ll give you the baby you want so goddamn bad. C’mon, baby.”

His words seep into your bloodstream, an uncontrollable tremor racking your body, your arms giving out as he bends over you and sinks his teeth into your shoulder. “Ohhhh, God! Oh my—!” 

Joel’s hands squeeze your tits, his entire body covering yours, a warm, protective blanket, slick with sweat and heart thundering against your back. His lips are on your skin, feverishly kissing and nipping. You can’t breathe, can’t move, and it feels so fucking good. You soak his cock, muscles seizing, pinned down by his strong body. 

“Fuck, that’s it,” he groans. “That’s it, baby. Goddamn, keep on squeezin’ me like that. Not gonna leave this tight pussy until you're fuckin’ pregnant.”

“Joelllll,” you whine, your orgasm prolonged by his words, his unrelenting thrusts, the jolt of his balls slapping your clit. “Want it so bad. Wanna give you a baby. Come inside me, please. Please give me your cum, oh, God—”

The broken sound of your voice, weak and raspy, goes straight to his dick, and his balls are pulling up, his head bombarded with the smell of sex, perfume, linen, you. He rests his forehead between your shoulder blades as you milk his cock, turning his thrusts sloppy and desperate. He needs to come. He needs to make it real. 

Your orgasm leaves you pliant and loose in his arms, and he fondles your tits, squeezing them hard in his hands as he pictures them growing, swelling heavy with milk he’ll feed your baby. His baby. Idly, you moan, letting him use your body to get off, his teeth grazing your neck. 

“Gonna come. Gonna fuckin’ fill you up, give you a baby. Gonna—Jesus, goddamn—”

Maybe it's the pent-up frustration of not having come all day. Maybe it's a renewed sense of purpose, knowing he's got a job to do, keeping every drop safe inside you. Maybe it's the sheer fucking excitement of getting to give his wife what he's wanted to put in you for so long. But when he comes, hips flush to your ass, he comes so much, for so long, that the rapid rush of blood from his cock back up to his head has him nearly keeling. 

Kissing your cervix, the head of his cock spurts rope after rope of hot cum inside you, and you mewl, your back arching to deepen the angle, luxuriate in the liquid warmth. Joel isn’t so loud now, not so cocky. He’s reduced to strained groans and whimpers as your body depletes him, greedily taking every drop of cum he has to offer. 

It feels like minutes before it finally stops, but with your ass up in the air, none of his cum spills out. Your hips are sore, your ass bruises from his hands, your tits still sitting warmly in his hands. The cool kiss of his wedding band soothes the too-hot press of his body on top of yours, your doubly-slick skin meeting indecently. His lips are on the back of your neck and he thrusts shallowly, wringing the last of his cum from the tip until he's wholly empty and bordering on oversensitive. 

You're the first to speak, your throat clogged with drool and some of your own tears. 

“Thank fuck I was at the bar that night.”

Joel’s laugh scrapes down your spine along with his beard as he drags himself upright, knowing he’s crushing you. “Never would've had to patch me up”

“Mmm, you're sexy when you're mad,” you point out, your thighs twitching as he carefully guides you onto your side, back to his chest, his cock still acting as a plug for his cum. You’re deliciously full, and you hum happily at the feeling of his warm belly against you, his big arms cradling you close. 

“Shouldn't enable violence,” he grumbles. His lashes flutter against your shoulder. 

You roll your eyes. “Oh, please.”

He chuckles. “You feel okay?”

“I feel good,” you muse, running your fingers along his forearm, the prominent veins under his skin. “I feel excited.”

His grin curves against your skin, the scratch of his moustache sending a shiver up your spine. Outside, the sun begins to dip, and your twin golden rings glimmer in the fiery light. 

“Me, too,” he whispers, and you lace your fingers through his, squeezing, both of you practically giddy. 

There’s a lull, and for a moment, you think he’s fallen asleep. The sun creeps behind a home across the street, and its watch ends for another day. 

“Hey, Joel?”

His mouth meets your throat in a sleepy kiss. “Yeah, baby?”

“I like the name Sarah.”

THE END.

tags: @cavillscurls @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @cupofjoel @northernbluess @tieronecrush @joelmillers-whore @bastardmandennis - thank you all so so much for showing excitement for this fic!! kisses for you all 🫶

[haileesteinfld]

the last of us (2023) | 1.01

[alltheirdamn]

DECLINED | Mechanic!Joel x f!reader

PART 2

Summary: After a summer away, you decide to pay a visit to your favorite mechanic. Rating: 18+ Explicit Word Count: 3.7k Warnings: Pre-outbreak (AU), mechanic!joel, car sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, squirting, semi-public sex, multiple orgasms, slight overstimulation, light nipple play, unprotected piv sex, size kink, dirty talk, praise kink, pet names (darlin', babydoll, cowboy), cock riding, rough sex, creampie, joel once again being irresistible and disgustingly sweet, light sprinkle of fluff, porn with no plot (kinda) A/N: I have zero self-restraint and couldn't stop thinking about mechanic!joel soo... you could say, it was so nice she had to come twice ;)

PART 1 | Masterlist | Ko-fi

It wasn’t like you were actually planning on pulling off the highway to head toward that mechanic shop… except you totally were. Summer came and went, and after a few months spent in Tallahassee, it was time to go home. You weren’t in a rush this time, though, so you could afford a quick pit stop at a small mechanic shop. Nothing needed to be fixed in your car, but maybe you’d pop a screw loose just for the hell of it.

Pulling into the familiar garage, your heart thumped in your ears as you threw the car in park and nearly ran inside. The waiting room was disappointingly empty minus a handsome man standing behind the counter…one that wasn’t Joel.

His black curls were slicked back, and with just a white tank top and flannel on, you could tell he was built just like Joel. At your sudden entrance, he glanced your way, giving the cigarette in his hand a quick flick over the ashtray on the counter he leaned on.

“Can I help you with somethin’, miss?” He asked. He had that same drawl in his voice as Joel did.

Taming down your flyaways from the humidity, you walked over to the counter with a friendly smile. You didn’t miss how his eyes did a once-over on your body.

“I was just coming through town, thought I’d stop in to say hi to Joel,” you explained.

He took another drag of his cigarette, the cherry burning at the bottom. After a long inhale, he puffed out an air of smoke, filling the space with that stinging smell of nicotine. You weren’t completely opposed to the smell, and you most definitely appreciated him blowing it to the side so that it didn’t creep up into your nose.

“Joel’s just up at the mini-mart grabbin’ some beers. M’sure he’ll be back soon,” he shrugged. “I’m Tommy by the way, his brother.”

He extended his free hand, and you met him halfway to give him a friendly handshake, introducing yourself as well. Tommy donned that same lopsided grin as Joel; it must be that Southern charm and hospitality.

“So,” he drawled. “How y’know my brother?”

You shifted your weight between legs, trying to come up with some stupid lie to explain how you did know him. Short answer: he fixed your car. Long answer: he gave you the best orgasms of your life. 

“I, uh, came through town a few months ago to get my car fixed, and—.”

“Hey, Tommy! Come help me with the beers, man!” A voice shouted from the side door.

Tommy gave you an apologetic grin, rounding the corner to meet his brother outside. You leaned against the counter, drumming your fingers against it as you waited for them to reemerge. Tommy was walking back through the door moments later, a six-pack of beers in hand and Joel in tow. 

“C’mon man, I told you no smokin’ in the damn shop,” Joel grumbled, smacking the back of Tommy’s head.

Tommy only laughed at his brother's annoyance, walking around the counter to give Joel a clear view of you standing there. As his eyes set on you, Joel stopped in his tracks, a wild grin splitting across his face.

“Well, would y’look at that,” he beamed. “If it ain’t my favorite customer.”

A warmth crept up your skin, your cheeks blushing at his words. He approached you, leaning against the counter to mimic your stance. He still wore that worn-down black t-shirt, the fabric thinned out and stretching over his muscles. You wondered how long those scratches stayed on the skin of his back after you both…

“Ohhhh,” Tommy interrupted, forcing your eyes to tear away from Joel’s. “You’re the girl that’s got my brother out $500!”

Snapping your head back to Joel, you smacked his bicep in embarrassment.

“You told him?!” You shrieked.

Joel doubled over in laughter, clutching the arm you had just whacked.

“Calm down, darlin’. I ain’t ever think I’d see you again! S’all in good fun.”

You buried your face in your hands, letting out a small groan. Of course, he’d tell his fucking brother about you; the girl that didn’t have any fucking money for a car and slept her way out of the debt. You could bet Tommy probably didn’t believe Joel when he told him the story, either.

“Aw, c’mon now babydoll,” Joel crooned, peeling your hands away from your face. “I ain’t meant no harm in tellin’ the story.”

“He hasn’t told another soul,” Tommy said. You glanced over to see him raise a hand in defense. “Scouts honor.”

You smack Joel again for good measure, eliciting a howling laugh from Tommy on the other side of the counter. 

“Tommy, I’ll close up the shop tonight,” Joel said, raising an eyebrow at his brother. “Why don’t you head out and grab Sarah for me? M’sure I’ll be back in time for the game.”

“Fuckin’ better be,” Tommy tossed back. “Ain’t tryna lose my money to you again.”

“Seems like he needs that money,” you chimed in, rolling your eyes.

This time Joel shoved at you playfully, a hearty laugh rumbling through his chest. 

“Now she’s got jokes!” He teased. 

“Ha ha very funny,” Tommy said, scooping up the six-pack into his arms. “Nice meetin’ ya miss. Don’t run up your tab too high while you’re here.”

Tommy was just as good with the jabs as you were, so you threw him a quick smile and wave before he slid out the back door and disappeared. With only Joel and you left, that nervous feeling crept back in. 

“Got another tire blown out or did y’miss me?” Joel teased.

“Don’t let your ego get too big, cowboy,” you said. “I’m just rollin’ back through town.”

“Pretty sure I’m big everywhere, babydoll, but y’already know that.”

Joel took a step towards you, twisting a strand of your hair through his fingers. You could see the midday sun reflecting in his brown eyes, making them sparkle the longer he stared. Your gaze flicked down to his lips, that pouty bottom one quipped up into a slight grin. 

“You’re just so sure of yourself, aren’t you?” You laughed.

“Sure enough to know that pretty pussy is just soakin’ your underwear right now,” he drawled. 

He grabbed your hips, pinning you to his chest with an arm braced around your back. Dipping his hand between your bodies, he slid a finger over the seam of your zipper, teasing your already throbbing clit. Your eyes fluttered shut at the feather-like touch of his finger, your body aching for him.

“Fuckin’ knew it,” he whispered in your ear.

Your breath hitched as he popped open the button on your jeans and tugged down the zipper. Slipping two fingers between your skin and underwear, he drew lazy circles over your clit, watching you with rapt attention as you tried to stifle a moan.

“Mhmm,” he crooned. “Been dreamin’ ‘bout this pussy ever since you left town, darlin’.”

“Yeah?” you exhaled, rolling your hips against his fingers as they worked faster.

“Ain’t ever had my cock so wet.” Joel pressed a kiss against your neck as his fingers slid between your wet folds and teased your entrance. 

“Christ, Joel,” you exhaled. “Maybe we should take this somewhere else.”

Joel glanced around the empty waiting room and shrugged.

“No one’s here, darlin’.”

“Your shop windows are glass,” you argued. “Anyone can see us if they drive by.”

Teasing your wet folds, Joel slid a finger inside you, slowly curling it in an attempt to shut you up—which did work, unfortunately. You leaned into his broad chest, your head resting on his sternum as he continued the movement in slow strokes. 

“Joel,” you whimpered, clutching the fabric of his shirt.

“What, babydoll?” He asked innocently as if he didn’t fucking know what he was doing to you.

“Take me to the garage,” you breathed. “Please.”

“Only ‘cause you asked so nicely, darlin’.”

Pulling his hand out of your jeans, Joel bent to scoop you up, drawing your legs around his waist to carry you out of the waiting room. You wound your arms around his neck, dipping your head down to kiss along the stubble of his jawline. His hands squeezed your ass as he walked you both through the door to the garage, situating himself at the workbench. Still positioned in his lap, you wasted no time and pulled him in for a long, passionate kiss. You could feel the smile on his lips as he kissed you back, his hands roaming up and down your body as you devoured one another. 

“Jesus, babydoll. Y’really did miss me, huh?” he muttered against your open mouth.

“Maybe I did, cowboy.”

Grinding your hips on his lap, you felt the strain of his cock beneath the worn-out fabric of his work jeans. Joel nipped at your bottom lip, groaning as you circled your hips harder. 

“Easy now, darlin’,” he warned. “Don’t wanna ruin my jeans like some middle school boy.”

You laughed and doubled down on your movements against his cock, each drag of your body forcing him to tense up. Joel’s hand came up to cup your breast through your bra, squeezing hard enough to make you whimper. 

“Y’gonna be a good girl for me, babydoll?” he questioned.

You snuck a glance at his face, seeing his pupils blown wide with lust. Nodding quietly, you stilled your movements and focused on the feel of his fingers pinching your hardened nipple through the fabric. Your jaw went slack as he toyed with you, coaxing humiliating sounds from your lips with each twist.

“Hmm,” he mused, leveling you with a dangerous stare. “That's how I get you to behave, huh?”

“Joel,” you whined breathlessly. 

“Use your words, babydoll.”

“I need you to fuck me,” you begged, leaning into his touch.

“Where’s those manners, darlin’?” he taunted.

Giving him the biggest pouty face you could muster, you pushed your bottom lip out and sealed the deal by batting your eyelashes at him.

“Please, cowboy?” 

Joel rolled his eyes and chuckled, bringing his hand down on your ass to deliver a sharp slap. Hoisting you back up, Joel spun your body back against the wall of the garage, shoving your shirt up as he pressed you against it. He wasted no time in dragging down your bra, ravishing your skin with kisses and bites, leaving a trail of marks down your breast and sternum. You ran your hands through his curls, feeling the humidity of the air dampen them the longer you both stayed in the garage. Neither of you seemed to mind, though; you were so wrapped up in each other there was no telling of what was happening in the outside world. 

He took your nipple between his teeth, biting it softly and rewarding your behavior with another trail of kisses back up your chest and neck. He mumbled a slew of curses under his breath as you mewled against his touch, his mouth hot against the underside of your jaw.

“Quite the mouth on you, cowboy,” you teased. 

“Y’already know what this mouth can do, darlin’. Don’t tempt me.”

“Why don’t you remind me?” you asked, a smug grin teasing your lips.

“Fuck, babydoll,” he groaned.

Setting you back down on your feet, Joel nodded towards his black truck, silently instructing you to move. With the truck bed already down, you did a little hop and shimmy onto it, settling back against the warm metal. Joel grabbed a clean towel off his workbench and stalked towards you with a devilish grin.

“Afraid to get your truck messy?” You smirked.

“I already know you’re gonna have the entire bed of it soaked in damn near a minute,” he responded.

Letting impatience get the best of you, you worked yourself out of your jeans and underwear, slingshotting it directly at Joel’s chest as he neared the edge of the truck. Catching it with one hand, he pocketed the black lace effortlessly, offering you the towel to situate yourself onto. Sliding your body into the towel, you dropped your legs open, giving Joel a perfect view to ogle at.

“Like what you see, cowboy?” You giggled, trailing your fingers down your abdomen and towards the wetness between your thighs. 

“Damn right I do, darlin’.”

Joel pressed up against the truck bed, bending over to kiss down your stomach where your hand laid against your aching clit. He brushed his lips over your fingers before drawing them into his mouth, sucking on them gently. Your breath hitched as your eyes connected, his brown eyes sparkling with mischief. Joel pulled your fingers from his mouth and guided your hand through his hair.

“Give them curls a tug if y’need it, darlin’.”

Then his mouth was on you. Devouring you. Lapping at you. Every flick of his tongue sent shockwaves through your body, your veins coursing with an indescribable need to explode. Joel didn’t let up for a single second, his tongue and jaw working at you until your thighs quaked around his neck. He was pushing you closer and closer until that coil inside your stomach was ready to snap. You cried out as he flattened his tongue against your clit, putting pressure at just the right spot to make you see stars.

“Right there… oh my God, Joel,” you whispered, panting as you felt that build-up in your body begin.

With another long draw of his tongue and the brush of his nose against the sensitive bud of your clit, that coil snapped. Hot, warm liquid gushed out of you, covering the entirety of his open mouth and chin. Joel groaned as he continued lapping at you, the disgusting sound of your wet cunt drowning out the heartbeat thudding in your ears. Aftershocks of your orgasm coursed through you, your body pulsing with pleasure with each press of his mouth against you.

You tugged at his curls as he instructed, and Joel lifted his face to reveal what a dripping mess he had become. Your cheeks reddened at the sight of his hooded eyes and wild smile; the look of sheer bliss painting his features. Exhaling, you sagged against the metal of the truck, your chest rising and falling as you tried to regain some semblance of control.

“God, I sure did miss this pussy,” Joel hummed, nudging his nose against your dripping cunt. 

You squirmed against his face, too afraid another orgasm would surge through you and drench him again—which he obviously wouldn’t be opposed to. But you needed his cock buried inside you, now.

“Joel, climb up here,” you said, patting the metal beside you.

“What if I ain’t ready yet?” he argued, kissing the inside of your thighs.

“Joel,” you demanded.

“Alright, alright,” he sighed. “Don’t get all impatient on me now, darlin’.”

Hauling himself onto the truck bed, he crawled over your limp body, kissing up the side of your neck. Using what little strength you had left, you maneuvered yourself over him, flipping you both until you straddled his lap. Joel’s hands came up to your bare hips, his thick fingers squeezing and kneading the supple flesh as you rolled against his hardened cock.

“Gonna let me ride you, cowboy?” You asked.

“Fuck, darlin’,” he groaned, his eyes rolling back. “Boutta be the best ride of my goddamn life.”

Giving him a wink, you hurried to undo his belt and jeans, letting his cock spring free. Christ, you forgot how big it was. Joel chuckled at the way you stalled a moment, bucking his hips upwards in an attempt to get you moving.

“Calm down, cowboy,” you warned. “I’m gettin’ there.”

Wrapping your hand around the base of his cock, you positioned it at your entrance, slowly sinking down until your clit brushed against the curls at the base. Even dripping wet, you were forced to stretch around him, the fullness leaving you breathless for a moment. 

“Y’look so pretty like that, babydoll. S’fuckin full of me,” Joel hummed.

You whimpered at his words, moving your hips up and down finding the right tempo that sent you both into oblivion. The press of your knees against the metal wasn’t the most comfortable thing, but you could ignore it so long as he enjoyed himself. You picked up the pace, your body bouncing up and down as you forced his cock deeper inside you. Joel’s jaw went slack as he watched you, enraptured with the way you moved above him. Your bodies slapped together with each drop of your hips, and his fingers flexed against your waist as he pushed and pulled your body until you were grinding against him. 

“There ya’ go, babydoll,” Joel murmured. “Feel how deep I am?”

You only gave him a pathetic moan, letting his hands guide your body as you pulsed around his cock. You were so fucking full, the tip of his cock spearing up into you with each drag of your hips. Snaking a hand down your body, your fingers found your clit, drawing desperate circles as you tried to chase the orgasm threading through your muscles. 

“Fuck,” Joel groaned. “You’re just desperate to cum again, huh?”

“Yes, Joel,” you whined, putting more pressure on your clit as he drove himself deeper.

“S’fuckin’ pretty like that,” Joel exhaled. “Gonna drench me again, huh? Let’s see it, babydoll, cover me with it.”

Your mouth opened with a soundless cry, your cunt flexing around his cock as another orgasm ruptured through you, soaking your thighs and seeping into his jeans. Hauling you down against his chest, Joel positioned his knees upward, pistoning his hips against yours at a violent pace. 

“Fuck!!” You sobbed as more liquid gushed out of you, the strength of your orgasm amplified at this angle.

“Good fuckin’ girl. That’s it, c’mon,” Joel praised, his lips pressed against your ear. “Keep goin’, babydoll. I know y’can give me more.”

“I—I can’t!” You stammered.

Your orgasm wouldn’t let up, though. Joel’s cock drove into you with such force, that you continued soaking him over and over again despite your wailing protests. Joel continued praising you and talking you through each ripple of your orgasm, hushing you as you cried harder. 

“Just like that, babydoll. Shh… Doin’ so fuckin’ good for me.”

Joel kept a brutal pace, wrecking into you as he chased his own release. His hips snapped up one final time before he was spilling into you with a choked groan falling from his lips. 

Falling limp against his body, you stared at the sides of the truck bed with glazed eyes. Tremors still wracked through your body as you settled into his embrace, his hand rubbing soft circles over your shoulders. Craning his head to the side, Joel captured your lips in a soft kiss, his tongue dancing over yours slow and sweet. 

“Doin’ alright, babydoll?” he asked, breaking away from your lips.

You nodded mindlessly, too blissed out to form words. Nestled into his body, you let your fingers wander up his bicep and over his shoulder. Joel placed a soft kiss at the crown of your head, his muffled words lost in your hair.

“Hmm?” You asked.

“S’nothing,” he whispered. “Just enjoyed the ride, that’s all.”

You rested your head on his sternum, giving him a questioning look. 

“Sounded like you said something else,” you said, cocking a brow.

Joel huffed a laugh, his head falling back against the metal with a soft thud.

“I don’t know, darlin’. Guess I kinda like you.”

“Guess I kinda like you too, cowboy.”

Rolling off of him, you situated yourself against the side of the truck bed, resting your legs over his stomach. Joel’s hand kneaded into the tight muscles of your calves, working at the knots in your legs. His head leaned to the side to catch a glimpse at you, a smile breaking across his face.

“How long are y’staying in town?” he asked.

“I was only passing through,” you sighed.

His smile faltered a moment, that glimmer of hope flickering out in his eyes. Suddenly, the thought of leaving didn’t sound so nice.

“Why don’t y’stay the night?” he offered. “Got myself a big enough bed to sleep in, babydoll.”

“How much is it gonna cost me?” You teased, rubbing your foot over the softest part of his lower stomach.

“I’m thinkin’ a good blowjob,” he mused.

“Whatever you want, cowboy. Count me in.”

You spent a few moments in harmonious silence, basking in the circumstances’ simplicity. After a while, you found yourself climbing off the truck in search of your jeans and underwear. Joel worked his way down, too, stuffing his cock back into his pants and gathering the damp towel off the truck bed.

“You still have my underwear,” you grumbled, shaking out your jeans to slide into.

“And I’m gonna keep ‘em, darlin’,” Joel said, grabbing you by the waist to reel you in for a kiss. “Need me a lil’ souvenir.”

“You’re unbelievable,” you chuckled.

Foregoing underwear, you stuffed yourself back into your jeans and followed Joel to the passenger side of the truck, where he had the door already propped open for you. Helping you in, he reached over to secure your seatbelt, kissing your cheek softly before shutting the door and walking to the driver's side.

Turning the key in the ignition, Joel glanced over at you, his eyes roaming over your messy hair and rosy cheeks. 

“Y’sure are beautiful, babydoll. Wish I could keep ya here,” he sighed.

You rested your chin in your hand, leaning over the center console. 

“I don’t know, cowboy. Your negotiating skills are pretty damn good. Might talk me into staying with all those sweet words.”

“Oh yeah?” he perked up. “Y’know you still got a hefty bill to pay off.”

“Shit, you’re right,” you agreed. “I might have to stay a while to settle that debt.”

Joel cracked a smile, lifting up the console to haul you closer to him. Backing out of the garage, he navigated the truck onto the main road and towards wherever home was for him. Settling into his side, your fingers danced over the zipper of his pants as you waged your brows at him.

“Think I should start paying off that debt now?” You asked.

“I ain’t arguing with that, babydoll,” Joel grinned.

[wildemaven]

Joel is someone who spends too much time in his own head— too many thoughts at all times. But especially when it’s his first time with you.

He likes you. A lot. There’s no denying how much so either, based purely on how much he enjoys spending time with you and how much Sarah likes you. he truly connects with you, deciding you both want to keeping exploring where things go.

Things progress slowly, a mutual worry about rushing to quickly before either of you is ready. Over the course of a few months, many dates have been shared. Each one solidifying the growing desire between the two of you. Making out in his truck, on the couch, tucked away from prying eyes in his laundry room after a summer barbecue.

His nerves are shot the night you both decide to take things further when Sarah is away at a friend’s place for the weekend.

Needing everything to be perfect— for you. Worrying how great he’ll even be since it’s been quite some time since he’s been with someone .

Expect it’s everything but perfect.

It’s awkwardness and concern. Even more so, Joel’s mind is riddled with anxiety about his performance.

Are you enjoying yourself? Do you feel okay? Is your body liking the things he’s doing? Does he still turn you on now that things have moved into this territory? Should he be doing those things that he’s seen in the porn he’s watched?

You sense the fear right away. A waterfall of apologies cascading from his mouth left and right. When he slips out of you mid thrust. When his nose knocks into your eye. When he mistakes your zealous whine for shrilled pain. When he feels like things are taking longer than they should.

He stills when you look up at him with a smile. Your hand coming up to caress his flushed cheek and he can’t help but smile back at you.

You tell him there’s no rush to finish and all the things you’re enjoying. That you’re more than happy to take your time and figure out what works and what doesn’t. You tell him that you like all of him and he doesn’t need to be anyone but himself.

He relaxes into your touch, grateful you’re not running out the door and hightailing out of the driveway, never wanting to see him again.

His kisses are driven with more confidence. His touch deliberate but sweet. Praise and guidance exclaimed with elated satisfaction. It’s perfectly imperfect.

The room is bathed in a sheen of moonlight. He tells you how beautiful you are. His favorite thing about you. The things he can’t stop thinking about when you’re apart. He tells you how he hasn’t felt this way about someone in a long time and he thinks he might be falling for you.

[sscorpiiio]

wearing the same colors and everything

[wonwoosthetic]

Helllooo! Could we please get a Joel x oc update? 🤍

series masterlist

masterlist

word count – 12.9k

pairing – pre-outbreak!joel miller x reader

warnings – pregnancy and everything that comes with it, mentions of throwing up, soft!joel, a little bit of cursing, and some I guess “old fashioned” way of thinking if you squint, mentions of sex but no smut

a/n – hiii, of course you can! Like mentioned before, this was supposed to come out way longer ago, but a lot of things got in the way sadly, but I still hope you can enjoy it and enjoy the slight Christmas touch to it ˙ᵕ˙ this was originally for this request, so thank you🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

Congrats On #2, Dad

2005

"Oh wow...," Maria's eyes raked you up and down while you continued panting at her door. "You really do look like shit." With a deep breath in, you brushed past her, straight into her apartment. Only a quick few steps later, you crashed into the living room, throwing your bag onto the couch and trying to get your winter jacket off your body. The hasty movements did not help you as you could feel tears forming in your eyes. The heat of the indoors, the anxiety that had built up on your way to her place, the stress from work... everything was hitting you like a wall at once.

"Hey, hey, hey," your best friend ran up behind you, her hands gripping your jacket and helping you tear it off.

As soon as you were free, you threw yourself onto her couch, still panting as if you hadn't been able to breathe normally in the last few hours. You threw your head back against the backrest, closing your eyes to focus. All while Maria was standing still, her eyes trained on you like a hawk, scared to move away.

"Are you gonna throw up?" She asked you. After the call she had received from you merely half an hour ago, she had gotten ready for every emergency possible.

You shook your head, your hand clutching your stomach. "I don't think so."

"I don't think so is not a no," she mumbled to herself, quickly stepping into the open plan kitchen on the other side of the room to get a bucket from underneath the sink. She'd normally use it for cleaning, but it must do for now. As soon as she got back to you, she placed it into your lap, making you sit back up straight.

"Thank you," you breathed out, hugging it tightly to your chest.

A moment of silence washed over the two of you as she just continued to stare at you hovering over the red bucket, ready to hold back your hair the moment you'd start heaving - but it never came. Thankfully.

"Okay," she took a deep breath in, the palm of her hands touching her thighs, letting a slapping sound echo through the room. "So... you know... this could mean a lot of things..." Maria went quiet for a second before continuing carefully, "Two things with the biggest possibility..." watching you carefully, "I mean, for one... you could just have eaten something-"

"It's the second one," you blurred out, still trying to normalise your breathing pattern while dealing with the nauseous feeling that had been haunting you for the past three days, but peaking that day specifically. Right as she started with her theories, you already knew where she was going.

Shortly before getting off work, you had called her in a hurry from the toilet, explaining your sick feeling and the severity of the situation, asking her to answer the door immediately as soon as you'd ring the bell to her apartment. You were terrified of possibly having to throw up on the bus after having to rush to the toilet almost every second hour during your shift in the office. The eyes of nosey co-workers had followed you each time. And her, being the angel of a best friend that she was, kept the door unlocked for the entire 36 minutes that it took you to get to her place, ready to face whatever would happen. What she didn't expect though, was you being already in the clear of your situation.

Her eyes shot open wide. "What? You- why are you so sure about that?"

You lifted your head, a sheepish grin making an appearance on your lips. "Well... we...," you glanced at her, almost giggling at her facial expression if it wasn't for the pressure making its way up your throat. "We haven't really been trying to... prevent something from happening."

"WHAT?!" With a squeal, the woman to your left shot up from the sofa, her hands flying up to cover her mouth after her sudden outburst. "What do you mean? Are you serious?!" You couldn't help but chuckle, holding onto the bucket just a slight bit tighter. "Are you serious, Y/N?!" She repeated her question, slowly sitting down again.

You could only nod.

"GIRL! W- You didn't tell me!" Before even being able to respond, you felt a strike against your upper arm, making you turn to her in surprise, clutching the part she had just hit.

"AH!" You called out, "Hey, I'm trying not to puke all over your couch right now, you can't hit me!"

Maria shook her head, "You- right, I'm sorry- wait, do you really have to throw up?"

"I don't know," you groaned, "I think it's getting better again... but I don't know..."

For a brief moment, she just continued to look at you while you had kept your eyes closed, face forward, just in case something were to escape before you could control it.

"Oh my God...," she whispered quietly. "You really might be pr-"

"We don't know yet," you stopped her quickly. There had been multiple instances in which you had gotten your hopes up (not only during this time), and you were not about to do it again. "Let's not jinx it."

"Y/N...," Maria spoke softly to you, a comforting hand on your back to soothe you. "You stopped taking the pill and have been riding your man like he's the last horse on this planet and-"

Your sudden burst of laughter interrupted her. She was your best friend, of course, she'd remember the multiple times you had talked about your favourite positions.

"What?" She chuckled along with you. Her expression changed within a millisecond as soon as your laughter had turned into a cough, her hands flying up to gather your hair and get it out of your face.

"I'm good," you calmed her down, waving your hand so she'd let go. "I'm good."

"Okay," she nodded, letting your hair back down and scooching over to sit back. "But seriously," her tone made a quick change, but in the next moment, her smirk was back. "You've been going at it like crazy probably," another chuckle came from you. She wasn't wrong, you thought. "And suddenly you start feeling sick and- wait... are you late?"

You turned your head to give her a peak of your shy smirk trying to get hidden by your pressed-together lips. With a scoff, she stood up.

"Alright, that's it, I'm going to the store. I can't stand this-"

"I have three tests in my bag," you remarked making her stop in her tracks on the way into the hallway.

Her eyebrows shot up as her eyes widened, "You- why-" she stopped herself to walk back over to the couch, where your bag was still in the corner. You would've handed it over to her but another wave of nausea hit you.

Maria found all three of them, still standing right in front of you with the boxes in her hands. "Why are you carrying them with you?"

You shrugged. "I don't know... I've been feeling like this for like," you gulped, "a few days, and... I guess it was wishful thinking. A little bit."

"Okay, come on," she was quick to snatch the bucket out of your grip, putting it on the floor before engulfing your hand in hers. "Let's see if you're right."

Carefully, you pushed yourself up with her help, letting her lead you by your hands even though you probably could've done it yourself. But that's just the person she was. 

Each step felt heavier than the one before. The fast speed of your beating heart was only adding to the pressure in your throat and stomach and wasn't doing you any good. Not even closing your eyes was helping you anymore and it was almost enough to make you cry.

Finally, arriving in the bathroom, Maria ushered you to sit down on the closed toilet seat while she was unpacking each one of the tests along with their instructions. The entire apartment was quiet as she read through them, only your heavy breathing filled the tilled room. You gulped with almost every second passing.

"Alright," she turned towards you, "You ready? You need something to drink?"

But you only shook your head, leaving her without a distinct answer.

"No as in you're not ready or in you don't need anything to drink?"

You took a deep breath. "I don't know..."

With slow movements, she lowered herself onto the floor, kneeling right in front of you to place a hand on your knees as you brushed your fingers through your hair and out of your face. "You don't have to be nervous. It's okay," she patted your jeans-covered legs. "If you guys have been trying for one then... it's good if it's positive, right?"

A sigh fell from your lips as you met her gaze. "But... I- if it's negative, I'll cry because I'm disappointed and if it's positive, I'll cry because I'm scared. So... either way, I will cry and I don't know if I'm ready for that. For either of those outcomes and... I... I don't know," you rambled out loud, letting all your thoughts spill while she continued to rub a comforting hand up and down your thighs.

"Either way..." she started, making sure that you were still looking at her, "you'll have me for one, and you'll have a wonderful and loving husband waiting for you at home along with the cutest and kindest, most beautiful daughter anyone could ever ask for. And those two love you so much, no matter what those tests are gonna say. If they're negative? Oh well... you'll just get to keep going at it. That's fun too, right?" You couldn't hold back a chuckle, making her smile as well. "And if they're positive, then... you'll step into this new chapter of life that I just know you'll absolutely ace."

With a groan, you clutched your stomach and threw your head back. After a few deep breaths in and trying to continuously gulp down the sick feeling bubbling in your stomach, you looked back down at the woman you get to call your best friend.

You nodded gently. "Okay."

"Okay," she grinned at you, slapping your thighs gently before standing up and walking back over to the sink. "I unpacked them all and put them down here with the instructions. If you need anything, I'm outside, okay?"

You nodded again.

"You sure you don't want anything to drink?"

A confused shrug was your answer. "I don't know. How much pee do I need?"

"Enough for three tests," she glanced back at you, who had stood up to join her by the sink. Her comment made you smile.

"I think I'm good, we'll see." She let that slide as a confirmation.

After another quick nod, followed by a gentle, "Good luck," she left the room and closed the door behind her, leaving you alone in the bathroom.

-

Right after you were done peeing on all three sticks and lining them up along the counter space of Maria's sink in the bathroom, you let her in again. You went to your designated place on top of the now-closed toilet seat, while she was leaning against the doorframe.

The silence that had washed over you was surprisingly comforting, leaving you to concentrate on your nervous heart and uneven breathing. If you didn't want to talk during the current situation, Maria wasn't going to make you. But there was one more thing you had wanted to get off your chest.

"I also kept the tests in my bag because of Joel," you admitted to her, catching her off-guard.

She scrunched her eyebrows as her head turned towards you. "What do you mean?"

With a swift brush through your hair, you got it out of your face. You sighed. "Ever since we officially decided to, you know, stop with any kind of protection, he- it kinda feels like he's become impatient."

"Impatient? In what way?" She nagged you further, stepping closer towards you.

You shrugged slightly. "I don't know if it's really impatience, but just... like... he wants it to happen so badly."

Maria had turned quiet for a moment, letting your words sink in while your eyes continued to be locked on the sticks on the sink.

She cleared her throat. "Do... do you feel pressured by him to get pregnant?"

"What?!" Your head shot up towards her. "No! No, no, no, it's not like that..." you sighed again, thinking about your next words carefully before they would leave your mouth. "You...," another sigh. "Do you know those people that were just born to be parents? Like, you look at them or- or talk to them, and you think, 'yes, they have to become parents one day, that's what they're made for'?"

"I guess?" She answered.

"Joel's like that," you simply told her. "Joel is the perfect parent. A- And I know that... he wouldn't say that about himself, but he really is. I see it every day with Sarah and even when we talked about having a kid... I could just tell how badly he wanted to have another one. Because he's just perfect for it. And... to think that... maybe, just maybe... I couldn't give him that... absolutely destroyed me." Maria opened her mouth, about to speak again when you stopped her. "Don't get me wrong. I really really want to become a mom too. I mean... again... you know. I have Sarah, of course, and I couldn't ask for a better kid by our side. But I would give anything to be able to have one of my own and... have them in my arms from the very first day that they're born. So, you know, I- I also really want that. But...yeah... I just didn't want him to see the tests and get his hopes up and then suddenly have to be like, 'Oh well, but they're useless because I'm not pregnant, actually'. I'd much rather just have him in the unknown until I, for me, know... that... I'm for sure pregnant."

What you hadn't noticed were the droplets that had escaped your eyes in the middle of your rant, now falling into your lap and forming a small tear stain on your dark jeans. You quickly wiped them away, but since Maria had not been able to take her eyes off of you for the entire time, she had caught on and was already standing in front of you with a piece of toilet paper reaching out for you to take.

"Thanks," you mumbled, taking it from her.

"Listen," she started while you concentrated on not messing up your make-up all too much, wanting to look somewhat decent. "I understand what you mean- I mean... I would probably think differently of the whole kid situation in my current point of life, but I know you, so I get it," she sent a soft smile at you. "But... don't ruin yourself over something like that. The people that were made to become parents will become that. In one way or another. And the way you just described Joel... that's exactly how I, and everyone else, see you." Her comment made you look up at her. "You loved Joel first, and then you accepted his daughter into your life like she was your own. You moved in with them and cared for her like she had just always been there. You are made to be a parent too. And you are the most amazing mom to Sarah, and you'll be the most wonderful mom to a little baby as well. Whether that'll happen in a few months or a few years, doesn't matter."

"I love you," you just simply let those three words fall from your lips as they quivered, gazing at the woman you get to call your best friend. She slyly smiled down at you,

"I love you too, hun."

Before anyone could say anything more, the timer Maria had put on bounced off the walls of the small bathroom, making you hiss in a deep breath. She walked over to the sink to turn it off before glancing back at you.

"Are you ready?" She smirked at you, watching you as you pushed yourself up from the toilet seat, hands tightly secured in front of your stomach.

You nodded. "You look."

"What?" She looked at you with a confused facial expression. "Why me?"

"I'm too nervous," you hastily told her.

"But those are your tests, you do it." She took a step back to make room for you, but you only shook your head.

"No, Maria, please. Please do it."

With a sigh, she went back into her position right in front of the sink while you stayed back. Slowly, her hand reached out to grab the first of the three tests in line. Before she touched it, she flinched back.

"How am I supposed to react?"

You shrugged, tightening your own arms. "I-I don't know... normal?"

Leaving only a sigh between the last word coming from you, and another one dropping from her lips. Without a warning, she reached out and snatched the stick off the surface. Immediately, Maria turned it around to look at it. A poker face was plastered on her face. Too good of a poker face. You couldn't read her. And that only added to the anxiety of the situation.

"What?" All last bits of patience you could've possibly had left in your body vanished right away. Your feet almost carried you over to where she was standing, but the shaking of your legs kept them from it. With the quietness washing over the room, Maria's deep breath felt like the slice of a knife. Sharp.

"...What..." you repeated, your voice much quieter than before. The pounding of your heart had reached your throat, almost making you choke on nothing but air.

Your best friend pressed her lips to a tight line as she lifted her head to meet your waiting eyes. You could only gulp one last time before a wide smile reaching from ear to ear spread on her face.

Maria turned the stick around to let you see. "Congrats, momma."

-

The situation had calmed down. Somehow. Slightly at least.

After the big news had hit you, you were desperate to look at the other two, only for them to show you the exact same results. Well... three positive pregnancy tests, many tears and a moment of throwing up in her bathroom later, the two of you had found yourself on your friend's couch again. You were clutching onto one of her pillows, gazing into thin air. Maria's voice hit your ear, but your head was anywhere but in the room with you. You couldn't comprehend anything she was saying.

"Hey," a hit to your arm brought you back into the presence.

You snapped your head towards her. "Righ- sorry. Sorry... I...", you cleared your throat.

"Are you okay? Like... mentally right now?"

The nodding of your head, made her sigh in relief. "Y-Yeah... I mean... we've been wanting to do this... for quite a while now, but... it's still a surprise, you know?"

She smiled at you. "I can only imagine."

With a deep breath, you threw the pillow to the side, crouching forward to let your elbows rest on top of your thighs as your head fell into your hands. "Now I need to find an obstetrician... and I need to make an appointment with my gyno. And I have to look for-" The sound of your phone ringing in your bag cut you off.

Maria jumped to her feet to walk over to the dining table, where she had put your stuff to leave more room for you on the sofa. Once she got a hold of your phone, her lips curled up to a sheepish grin.

"Ooh, baby daddy's calling," she chuckled to herself. You shook your head with a smile, reaching out to take the Nokia out of her grip.

"He's more than just the baby daddy, idiot."

You picked up the call. "Hey."

"Hey, darlin', where are you?" Joel's rough voice came through the speaker, warming your heart in an instant.

"I... I'm with Maria. At her place."

"Oh, you- you're meeting up with her today?" He wondered, something rustling in the background.

You cleared your throat, glancing down at your fingers that had subconsciously started to pick at the fabric of the couch, "Yeah... it was... kinda spontaneous. Just a quick get-together after work."

"Okay, okay," you were pretty sure he nodded to himself. "D'you want me to pick you up? If I go now I could be there in 15."

For a quick second, you stopped to think. You could take the bus, technically. It would take longer, but you'd save yourself the anxiety of facing your husband right after you had just found out you were pregnant with his baby and still didn't know how to tell him. Or, you could shut your mouth and stay quiet and enjoy the comfort of Joel's driving skills in his pick-up truck.

"No, it's okay. I'll just- I'm gonna take the next bus in a few minutes."

Before he could say something back, Maria's loud voice echoed through the entire space. "You better come pick up your wife, Miller!"

You were quick to turn around and curse at her, "Shut up!"

Joel's chuckles made you bring your phone back up to your ear. "It's okay, darlin'. I'm on my way. Alright?" You heard a door falling close in the background on his end of the call.

"Joel-"

"I'll be there in a bit. I don't want to get my ass whupped by Maria."

With a whole-hearted chuckle you nodded, "Alright, I love you."

"Love you too, honey," even without seeing his face, you could hear the smile in his voice.

-

After a good five minutes and a short rant from your best friend about how 'sickeningly cute the two of you are with each other', silence washed the room.

"God...," you mumbled under your breath, "How do I even... how do I tell him?" You looked up at Maria as she came back to the couch, putting down one of the glasses of water she was holding on the coffee table right in front of you. You thanked her quietly before reaching out to grab it.

"I mean," she had joined you back on the couch again, sinking into the softness as she gazed at you, letting her head fall back. "You could just tell him?"

With scrunched eyebrows, you turned to her. "But that's not special."

"Do you need it to be special?"

After a second of keeping quiet to yourself, you shrugged. "A little bit at least, yeah..."

Maria joined you in the thinking process while you continued to sip on your water. You were pregnant. The realisation had hit you as soon as you saw the two lines on all three of the pregnancy tests you took, but you could still not stop letting that one sentence run through your mind. A human was growing inside of you and you'd be responsible for letting that being grow healthily. You'd not only become their parent at some point, but for the next few months, you'd be the only thing protecting them from the outside world. You-

"How about telling Sarah first and then Joel?" Your best friend's voice snapped you back into the present. 

You glanced over to her. "I thought about that too... but... I think Joel would want to see her reaction. Same with Tommy."

Maria nodded, "I see."

You could feel your smile widen at the mere thought of getting to share the big news with the entire Miller family. Your husband, for one, but also Tommy and of course the wonderful girl you get to call your step-daughter, or just daughter as Joel had asked you to. After all, she was the reason why you two had even begun the conversation about baby #2.

-Flashback-

"Have you guys ever thought about giving me a sibling?" The surprising question made you stop your fork on the way to your mouth, and with a quick glance over to your partner, you could tell he had stopped mid-chew. His eyebrows were scrunched up in confusion as he eyes his daughter, who was still oblivious about what situation she had just put the two of you into. Sarah continued to eat the food off her plate, but once she noticed the silence between you three, she lifted her head to meet your stunned faces.

"What?" She asked, the food still filling up her mouth.

"Don't talk with food in your mouth," Joel remarked monotonely, forgetting about the potatoes he was still chewing on.

"You're doing the same thing right now," you quietly noted, your eyes only drifting over to him for a millisecond before they were back on Sarah. "W-Why are... why are you wondering... about that?"

The girl shrugged, swallowing her food like her father had told her before she sat up straighter to look at you. "Today in psychology class, we learned that older siblings tend to do better in life and at their workplace. But then I was wondering about how an only child does and... when I looked it up, it said that only children are usually harder to put up with and statistically don't have it as good as people who grew up with younger siblings," she explained, before adding, "They're also less likely to achieve higher positions in their field."

"Jesus Christ, you're 15 years old, you shouldn't be worrying about work already," Joel cursed under his breath, but still loud enough for everyone to hear.

"I'm not worrying about work exactly. Just life in general. My teacher explained it very well to us, and it makes sense that kids who grow up as the oldest sibling would do better in life because of the experiences they gain over their lifetime with a younger sibling," Sarah continued her speech.

There were times were you were truly wondering how she could sound like someone so much older than just 15. Just like right at that moment. The girl you had known for over six years, who you had gotten to see grow up right before your eyes, watching in awe as you could see little mannerisms of Joel's in her with each year she got older, had suddenly turned into a young adult. While you were hoping she could keep her child-like energy and innocence for as long as possible, you couldn't help but be immensely proud of the woman she was slowly becoming. And it suddenly just hit you.

"Well," you started, gaining her attention. She was old enough for you to hold up an adult conversation with her, you had decided. If she was asking questions, you would be giving her answers.

'More children' was definitely a conversation Joel and you had stumbled across from time to time. It was almost impossible not to. But both of you had decided that you'd realise when the time was right. He wasn't necessarily old, and you had only just turned 26 that year, so why rush into it? Joel had become a father younger than he had expected he would, back then, and yet he enjoyed every second he got to be a dad with a daughter like Sarah. But that didn't mean he would want to put you in the same position and make you a younger mother when that might not even be something you had wanted. You being in college, and wanting to finish it, had also pushed back all plans of seriously talking about expanding your family. But at some point, you'd have to. And it seemed like that moment had just arrived.

You cleared your throat. "Having kids... is something you really really have to think about. Like... very very carefully, and seriously. You can't just decide from one day to another that you're going to have a baby," Sarah listened closely to every word falling from your lips, "Children, especially young ones, need a lot of attention and time and patience and... you know, just a lot at once. And... your dad and I are both people that work quite a lot, so... there... there hasn't really been the... opportunity for us to... think that there's a good time to have another kid." Your daughter nodded, her eyes falling back on her plate.

"But," you started again, making her head shoot up, almost letting a chuckle escape from your lips. "There's still time. We're in no rush." Telling her the exact same things Joel and you had said to each other. Speaking of, the man opposite of you had decided to stay suspiciously quiet for the entirety of your conversation.

"I guess," Sarah told you, "But you're not getting any younger."

Her comment to you aback. "Excuse me?" You chuckled.

"I mean," she was quick to react, "you're still young. Don't get me wrong." Before turning to her father on her right. "But you-"

"I'm 37," Joel spoke up, not even letting her finish her statement. His eyebrows were still scrunched together in his typical fashion. "That's not old."

Another shrug came from the girl as she sighed. "Maybe not to you, but in Biology we learned that-"

"Alright," your husband raised his hands in defence. "Look, like mom said. It's a difficult topic. It's something that needs to be discussed between adults before deciding-"

"I'm an adult," your daughter interfered.

"Between the adults that would be the parents of the child." Not even commenting on her notice. His argument seemed to have done it for her. Sarah nodded to herself and continued to eat the rest of her food like nothing had happened. Unlike you, who had suddenly lost her appetite, another conversation tickling the tip of your tongue, but you decided to stay quiet. For now.

After the meal, the girl had excused herself from the table, letting you know she'd be upstairs doing the last bits of her homework. Joel and you had started to work on clearing the table of the plates and pots you had used. Your husband had continued to keep his mouth closed, not even daring to open it and talk about something else for the rest of the dinner. Up until now, since you were about to change that.

"Can I ask you something?" You wondered as you made your way into the kitchen, bringing along every plate and piece of cutlery Sarah, Joel, and you had used for dinner. Your husband was busy loading the dishwasher but made sure to look up as you handed everything over to him.

"'Course," he answered, continuing to do his part of the work in the kitchen.

You stopped opposite of him, resting your lower back against the counter behind you, watching him bend down to put everything in the right slot and place it in the dishwasher.

"What did you really think about what Sarah said? About the having a sibling thing..." There was no way to ease him into the conversation, you had realised. But his quietness had not left your worrying mind ever since his last statement at the dinner table.

"Having another kid?" He asked, to which you nodded. Your bottom lip had already started to feel numb, the biting down cutting off any blood from flowing. "With you?"

Your eyebrows scrunched up suddenly, your teeth releasing your lip at the same time. His question hit you like a truck. With your arms crossed in front of your chest, you answered him,

"Preferably... yeah? What kind of question is that? Do you have other ideas?"

Joel simply shrugged, "Not in the near future, no." He closed the dishwasher and raked himself up with a soft groan before slowly scooting closer to you to capture you by wrapping his arm around your waist.

"Good," you told him, not even moving an inch at his touch, letting him know what his question had done to you.

"I was joking," he smiled down at you, leaning in closer to place a kiss on your cheek. "Of course, it would be with you, darlin'."

"It better," you let him know, getting a chuckle out of him. Yet, you didn't uncross your arms, keeping them as a barrier between your bodies. "So?" You followed up.

He suddenly sighed, leaning back again to meet your eyes. His hands were kept on your waist, his thumbs slowly rubbing up and down against your shirt that was covering your skin. "I gotta be honest with you, darlin'. The last person I want to talk about when or if I'm going to sleep with my wife and impregnate her would be my own daughter."

"Joel!" You gasped, freeing your arms to smack his upper arm. "That was NOT what the conversation was about!"

"That was exactly what the conversation was about! Why would she even wonder about stuff like that? She's a kid, she shouldn't-"

"She was just asking about a sibling! And she's barely a kid."

"She's 15, that's a kid."

"Joel-"

"She's in school, so she's a kid."

"And what if she's in her senior year? Or college?"

"Still a kid."

"Honey-"

"Please," he stopped you, placing his hands on your shoulders, "You know I'm not good with that stuff."

You chuckled, shaking your head and patting his right hand, "Yeah, I could tell by how quiet you suddenly got."

With a groan, he took a step back, his backside hiding the counter on your left. He let his palm run over his face, taking a few deep breaths. All you could do was watch him in slight amusement.

"Why d'you think I asked you to give her the talk?"

You couldn't hold back a laugh, covering your mouth to at least hide it slightly, "Oh, I remember." And what a memory that was. Joel calling you in panic after he had taken a glance over his daughter's shoulder while she was deep in thought on her Biology homework. Only to come to sight with the illustrations of reproductive organs in her book.

As amusing as the memory was, his current state made you wonder. "But is this more about you freaking out about Sarah wanting a sibling or her being grown-up enough to talk to us about something like this?"

"But she's not grown-up enough, that's the thing," he tried to argue, confirming your concern.

"But she is, honey," you sent him a sad smile, taking a step forward to touch his arm in comfort.

Another hand of his came up to run through his hair in frustration. His deep breaths hadn't stopped. You reached out to touch his cheek, the short hair of his beard tickling your palm. Before you could say anything, Joel beat you to it.

"You know I'd give you all the children in the world that you could possibly want. Whenever you want them," the desperation in his words made you laugh out loud as you steadied yourself by his arm, letting your forehead fall against his shoulder.

"I'm serious," he added before you felt the soft touch of his lips on the top of your head.

You let go to look back up at him. "And that was what the conversation was about. You just suddenly turned it into a Dad crisis."

"Can you blame me? Our 15-year-old daughter just explained to us the psychological benefits of growing up with younger siblings, basically telling us that if we don't give her one, she ain't gonna do well in her future job. At 15?! How am I supposed to react to this?" His voice was still laced with frustration, making your amusement only harder to hide.

"I know," you chuckled, sighing out in relief. "She's going places."

"Thank God," he breathed out, wrapping his right arm around your shoulder to keep you close. You followed by throwing your arm around his torso, cuddling into his side. His other arm came around you as well, pulling you just a tad bit closer, his lips back against the side of your head.

"I was serious about the kid thing, though," he softly spoke.

"Hm?" You hummed, not wanting to break the comfort you were wrapped in. His hand travalled up to tangle his fingers through your hair, pulling at it just a bit to make you move your head, so he could meet your gaze once again.

"However many you want, whenever you want them."

"Really?"

Joel nodded. "I'm ready. It's all up to you. Because you know," he sighed, "as you just heard from our Miss Professor, I'm not getting any younger and 37 is quite old-" you interrupted him with a chuckle, which was too contagious for him to fight against. His chest vibrated as he joined you. For a moment, the two of you enjoyed your synchronised laughter before Joel turned on his serious voice again. 

"But, I mean it. I already did all of the... no sleep 'cause of constant crying, diaper changes, throw up and poop everywhere," he continued to list off all things you could possibly relate to having a baby. All while you couldn't even dare to take your eyes off the pretty brown-eyed man in your arms. He didn't even meet your eyes until his last comment, "And I'm ready to do it all over again. With you." Joel smiled down at you. "We're financially stable enough to have a little one. We have an extra room." He shrugged, "I don't see why not." A kiss on your forehead ended his ment. "It's all up to you, darlin'. Whenever you're ready."

-Flashback End-

You had started working on baby #2 that night, even if you were still on the pill. 'Practice makes perfect' as Joel said.

"But I think I have an idea," you told her with a smile, which Maria could only copy as she watched you almost daydreaming about telling them.

"Well then," she grinned at you, scootching closer to sit right next to you. "How are you gonna do it?"

-

Two weeks had already passed since you found out you were pregnant. Way too quickly for your liking. Ever since the two lines of each of the three pregnancy tests had looked at you, there was hardly anything else that was occupying your mind as much as this. The drive away from Maria's place back to your shared house with Joel was torture already. You were able to dispose of the tests at your best friend's apartment, too scared that your partner might accidentally find them in your bag or later on in the trash. But you couldn't throw away the knowledge of his baby growing inside of you while he sat next to you in complete oblivion. And it haunted you. Hiding it became harder every single day. Whether it was because of your sudden emotional outbursts that you had to try to hold back as best as you could, or the sick feeling that kept you up at night or would wake you up early in the morning. Thankfully, the actual throwing up had kept itself to a limit, not raising any suspicion, as far as you knew, but the paleness of your skin that would show how you were truly feeling, was most definitely something Joel had caught up to. Each night, he'd ask when you'd go to see a doctor, almost taking a day off work to drive you to one personally, but you had been able to keep him from doing so, faking a doctor's appointment and coming back with the news of 'it's only the flu, apparently something's going around right now'.

Therefore, you would've thought the day of telling him coming near would make you happy and feel fulfilled, but the anxiety came back and hit you like a wall.

Because suddenly it was Friday, the 23rd of December, and you were on your way home from work. Tomorrow would be Christmas Eve, the day you had decided you'd want to tell Joel the news. And right after that Christmas Day, on which you had planned to let the future big sister know. As Tommy was out of state for the weekend, you'd be surprising him with the pregnancy news once he was back, which gave you a bit more time to think about how you'd go about it.

But your plan for telling the two other Millers was already in the works. The cake for Joel was tightly in your grip, having to balance it with one arm as you tried to unlock the front door to your house. It was only 2PM, which meant that Sarah was still at school for at least another two hours, and your husband wouldn't be home until around 7PM, just as usual.

The young girl's present was in your bag that you had put down on one of the chairs by the dining table before you placed the carton box holding the cake on top of the kitchen counter. When you finally freed yourself from everything you had been holding onto, you let a big sigh fall from your lips.

For a short moment, you let yourself enjoy the quiet peace. You still had enough time to do everything on your imaginary list. Put on the dishwasher, do the laundry that was supposed to be done yesterday, hide Joel's cake in the extra fridge in the garage, as well as Sarah's present, and then you'd get to finish looking through the documents you'd have to send to your boss before you could let yourself get fully immersed in the Christmas holiday.

Turning on the dishwasher was easy, almost everything was inside, you only added the two cups of coffee you and Joel had left in the sink that morning.

The wrapping paper you had chosen for Sarah's gifts that year peaked out of your bag, reminding you to hide the present - the book you had bought her. During your shift on the day before, you used the computer at work to look for books that would fit a 15-year-old sister-to-be and found one called 'The Diary Of An Older Sister', which was a type of autobiography talking about the ups and downs of being the oldest sister in a family. You had found it fitting for the teenager as you knew she would be more than excited to finally have a sibling, but she was also old enough to be met with the possible downsides and just reality checks of not being an only child anymore. You had picked it up from your local bookstore downtown before you made your way home. 

Next, the laundry. After walking up the stairs, you first decided to rid yourself of the business casual clothing you had to wear for your job, optioning for some sweatpants and a simple black long-sleeved shirt. As it was on the tighter side, you dared to take a quick look in the mirror in your shared bedroom. You turned to the side. If somebody didn't know you, they wouldn't even know a baby was growing inside of you because there was no bump yet to be seen. Or at least not one that you couldn't still blame on bloating. Well, there was still time. And you didn't yet know how far even you were into your pregnancy.

You had called your gynaecologist the day after you had found out. But, much to your dismay but not surprise, the were barely any available spots left in the very near future. They had given you the option of booking an appointment with another doctor, but you had opted to just wait out the three weeks and come in then. So, you'd find out more details in the upcoming week, when Joel would be able to join you.

In your bedroom, you threw the clothes you had worn into the hamper before taking it downstairs with you and into the garage, where your washing machine and dryer were. You threw everything into the machine before you opened the cabinet above it, where you'd usually keep your laundry detergent, only to be met with emptiness.

...How could you have forgotten about running out of detergent? You through to yourself. An annoyed sigh fell from your lips. You let your eyes glide over each cabinet that you opened but there was nothing. Absolutely nothing. You cursed under your breath.

You could go to the store after hiding the presents neatly, but the perfectionist in you was desperate to check off each thing as it was listed. One after the other. So, there was only one other option you had.

Back in your kitchen, you started to look for a measuring cup, thankful that after Joel had unloaded the dishwasher only a few days earlier, he had put it exactly where it was supposed to be, making you find it quickly. Then, with your coat and shoes back on, you made your way outside into the cold, rushing over to the house on the left. To your neighbours, the Adlers. A wonderful older couple, who had moved in with the woman's mother due to her old age and worsening health. They had always been kind and generous to you and your family, even if slightly weird, but what older couple wasn't just a tad bit strange. You found them endearing.

After a knock on the door and only a few seconds of waiting, their front door opened to reveal the woman you were looking for.

"Oh, Y/N, dear! Come in, come in," Mrs. Adler ushered you inside, not even asking for the reason for your visit. "It's so cold outside, my God," she commented with a smile as you nodded.

"I'm so sorry for disturbing you, Misses Adler-" you started but she stopped you, making her way into the kitchen and telling you to follow her.

"Oh please, stop it. You know we're always happy to see you."

Even at their age, the couple impressed you with the Christmas decorations they put up each year. A big pine tree was placed in the living room, similar to yours, only that they had optioned for a traditional red, white, and gold theme. Through the hallway, they had put up garlands on the walls as well as candles and little wooden reindeer figures on their accent tables.

In the kitchen, you were met with the woman's husband and her mother at their breakfast corner.

"Look, Connie, Y/N decided to come over." Mr. Adler welcomed you in his typical Texanian accent, "How are you, sweetheart?"

"Hi everyone," you greeted them kind smile. "I've been good, thank you. And you?"

"As good and thankful as one can be," he told you.

"Sorry for the mess right now, we're doing some last-minute baking," the older woman spoke as she took her place behind the kitchen island. Only then, you noticed the flower stains on her apron.

You chuckled, "Don't worry, I get it. Our kitchen looked so much worse after we did our baking." And it wasn't even a lie.

"So, what brings you here, dear?" Mrs. Adler wondered, getting back to using her cookie cutters and pressing them into the dough she had rolled out.

"Right," you cleared your throat, "I'm really sorry for asking you like this, but I- ehm... I just realised that we don't have any laundry detergent anymore, and- I really don't know how I could forget buying new one because-"

"Oh, you can just borrow ours, hold on a second," the elderly woman didn't even let you finish your sentence before she was already rushing out of the room. You heard some shuffling around as you followed her and got closer to their small laundry room. Suddenly, she popped back out, a full bottle of fresh detergent in her hand.

"You can just take this, we haven't used it yet."

But you stopped her, "Oh no no no, I don't need the entire thing, I'd only need like-"

"Honey, take the bottle, it's fine, we have enough."

"Mrs. Adler, it's okay, I'll go to the store tomorrow and get-"

"Tomorrow? On Christmas Eve? Are you insane? Only crazy people go shopping tomorrow. Please, just take it," she interrupted you once again, pushing the full container into your hands and brushing past you to walk back into the kitchen.

"But I-"

She stopped to turn around, placing both of her hands on your upper arms, "Joel and you have done so much for us, and you guys never let us repay you, please just take it, love. It's just detergent."

You sighed and gave in, "Alright," you chuckled with a shake of your head. "Thank you, Misses. Adler."

"Of course," she smiled at you, making her way back again. You joined her, stopping in the doorframe to say your goodbye.

"Merry Christmas. And thank you again."

Mister Adler stopped helping his mother-in-law with her food to turn to you, "Merry Christmas, Y/N."

"Tell Joel and Sarah a Merry Christmas from us too!" The older woman called out as you made your way out again.

"I will!" Was the last thing you said to them before closing the door and walking down the steps, when you stopped in your tracks. Your eyes fell on the familiar pickup truck in your driveway. 

Confused, you got back to your place, opening the front door before you spoke up, "Joel?" Your voice echoed through the living space when his head suddenly showed up from the walk-through into the kitchen.

"Oh, there you are. Where were you?"

You took off your shoes and jacket, putting them into their right place before joining him. "We didn't have any laundry detergent. I asked the Adlers for some." Showing him the bottle you were carrying.

"Some?" He chuckled as he saw the entire container.

You shook your head in amusement, "I asked for a bit. Misses Adler gave me the entire thing."

"'Course she did," Joel mumbled under his breath with a smile, already used to her style. "By the way," he walked over to the counter, making you stop as you were on your way to the garage to continue the laundry journey. "I didn't know you were gonna pick up a cake for Christmas, but I think you got the wrong one, darlin'."

Every last drop of colour immediately evaporated from your face.

Oh no.

"I mean it's funny. But it ain't a Christmas cake." With a chuckle, he opened the box, "'Congrats on Number 2, Dad'," he read out the icing letters on top of the baked good.

"No, no, no," you rushed over into the kitchen, repeating the word over and over again, putting the detergent and measuring cup on the counter before pushing Joel out of the way. You closed your eyes to take a deep breath, your hands coming up to hide your face. A huff of frustration escaped your lips. All while your husband continued to stand there in confusion. "No, you weren't supposed to see this. Well, not until tomorrow at least- UGH," Running a hand hastily through your hair as your eyes were locked on the cake. You had been so proud of yourself for coming up with an idea like that, especially when the bakery accepted your request and promised you to make it as pretty as they possibly could. And they most definitely kept their word.

"It's okay," he chuckled, his warm hand coming up to brush over your back. "It's the wrong one, anyway. We can go pick up the right one."

"No, this is the right one!" You called out in frustration. 

With a confused look on his face, he looked down at you as you placed your forehead against his chest, dreading to look up at him.

This was not how you had planned it. It was supposed to be sweet and romantic. At night. With candles. When it would be just the two of you sitting in the living room, wrapping up Sarah's presents together just like you did every year. You'd bring him the cake to open as an 'early Christmas gift'. He'd see it and be happy. Hopefully.

But all of that just fell into the toilet in an instant.

"Can you just pretend you didn't see it?" Your sudden sobs against his chest, made Joel pull you back to look up at him. His concerning eyes met yours that were filled with tears, daring to spill and ruin your cheeks any second.

"See what, darlin'? I don't even know what you mean," he spoke softly to you, his thumbs coming up to catch the first tear that rolled down your cheek. "Number 2 in what? Did Sarah say you're her Number 1 and I'm Number 2? I already know that." His comment made you chuckle just slightly, making his lips curl up at his somewhat successful try at making you laugh. "You got me a cake for that?"

"No," you whined out with a hurtful laugh. Your sniffling only made his adoring eyes look deeper into yours as his hands cradled your face, trying to look for the reason for your tears.

"Then what is it?"

You gulped. "They... I'm congratulating you on Number 2, Dad." You didn't want to just spill the news onto him, but would much rather have him figure it out. It was only now that you realised, the wording you had chosen was clearly not as good as you had found it at first.   

"But number 2 of what?" He wondered again. Joel was anything but an innocent soul. He had proven that multiple times already. But good God, you could've kissed the living heck out of him for his wonderful pure oblivion at that very moment.

With one last deep breath, you wrapped your arms around his waist, gazing up into those sweet and warm brown eyes that have given you so much comfort over the past few years. You knew you had found the one. Of course, you had already married him and had been living with him and Sarah for multiple years now, but this man was the only one you'd want to wake up next to forever. And forever was quite a while. The only man you could ever love that much. The only man you could ever imagine having a baby with. And now you'd get to finally tell him.

"A baby, Joel," you gently whispered, knowing he'd hear you clearly as no other sounds were disturbing you two. 

You could see the very moment your words had registered in his mind. When his big eyes suddenly widened even more, his eyebrows shooting up, the lines on his forehead now more visible than before, and his mouth parting just slightly. A breath hissed through his lips as he gasped quietly. Trying to hold back your smile was long forgotten and as soon as you could see his eyes turning glassier than before, it was over for you.

"W-What?" He whispered back at you. "A... a baby... you mean-" Joel stopped himself, clearly unsure of even letting the words come through his own lips.

"I'm pregnant," you smiled up at him, your arms tightening around his torso, pulling yourself closer to him. Not only could you see his breathing immediately speeding up, but you could also feel it. Feel the way his fingers stopped gliding over your cheeks, and his entire body almost melting into your embrace.

Never would he have dared to take his eyes off of you for even just a short second at that moment. Not even blinking.

He gulped. "Are you serious?"

With a tight smile, trying to hold back your own tears, just like you could tell he was doing, you nodded. "Baby number 2 for you."

"You're not fucking with me?" Still, in clear disbelief, he continued to question you.

You shook your head.

"You're really pregnant?" 

Another nod followed as an answer.

Before you could even say anything more, Joel surprised you with the strength of his arms that wrapped around your shoulders and pulled you into his chest as tightly as he possibly could. You could feel the deep breath he took, only to release a shaky one, letting you know, he had given in to the emotions, breaking your damm finally as well. Instantly, a wet patch formed on his dark sweatshirt, soaking up the tears that were spilling from your eyes. 

Your partner didn't even try to hold back his own. Hiding his face in your hair, you could hear his soft sniffles right by your ear.

"You're really not messin' with me right now, are ya?" He spoke, his voice rough with emotion as he continued to hold you as tightly as his most prized possession.

You chuckled with a sniffle, "No, I'm serious."

The sudden kiss on your cheek made you giggle, the feeling of his beard tickling your skin.

"I love you so much," each word was followed by a kiss to your face, going from your cheek to your temple, down to your jawline, and your nose until he finally reached your lips. The smile you couldn't wipe off your lips made it hard for you to kiss him back, but it only made him grin even wider.

With a deep breath in, he freed your lips, his hands still holding onto your cheeks, making your eyes meet immediately. Just smiling at each other with the biggest grins on your faces made you already giggle again. God, this man was truly able to just make you feel as loved as anybody possibly could. 

Joel leaned forward, resting his forehead against yours to let his eyes fall close for just a second. He took a second to enjoy the moment.

"God," he sighed out loud, "I love you." Going back to attacking your cheeks and lips with kisses, making you giggle once again.

"Just because I'm pregnant?" You teased him, laughing at his antics as your hands came up to hold onto his wrists that were still close to your face.

Your partner raised his head to meet your gaze. His lips curled up before the next words even came from his mouth. "Say that again," he whispered, leaning back in closer.

"What?" You wondered, "That I'm pregnant?"

He nodded. "Hell yeah, you are." A smug smile now decorated his face before he let your lips touch once again. This time, you were able to give in, letting your mouths move against each other as neither one of you wanted to break the kiss. But all good things must come to an end. You were the first to lean back, the last smack echoing through the quiet room.

Once Joel got to look at you again, his thumbs found their way back to brushing away the last few tears that were escaping the corners of your eyes. You copied him, letting your right hand come up to his face, wiping away the tear stains that were left on his cheeks. Oh, how thankful you were to have a man like him by your side.

More or less subconsciously, his palms ran down your body, stopping right at your stomach as he looked down. He chuckled to himself before sniffling one last time.

"Is that why you've been feeling so sick the past few days?" Joel's head came up again to look at you, but your eyes had never left him.

You nodded with a chuckle, now having to brush away your own last tears. "Yeah..."

"When did you find out?" He wondered.

"The evening when I went over to Maria's. When you picked me up," you explained.

Joel straightened his back. "That was weeks ago."

"Two, yeah..." You started to look around for some tissues you may have had left in the kitchen, desperately wanting to blow your nose after the emotional session the two of you had just shared.

"God..." he sighed, running a hand over his face. His eyes continued to just gaze at you, almost making you shy with the way he kept on looking at you. "You've kept it a secret for that long?"

You couldn't help but chuckle at the truth you had kept from him. "Well... technically, I had the feeling for a bit before I did the tests at Maria's place. But I wasn't sure and that day, I just... I felt so disgusting and I couldn't stop throwing up at work, so I-"

"You should've called me," he told you, going back to cradling your cheek in his palm. You held onto his wrist, leaning into his touch with a smile.

"But I already kinda knew what was going on and I wanted to surprise you with it." You sighed, "And well," looking to your left, his hand fell in the action as your eyes found the cake on the counter. "That fell through."

"No, darlin'," his chuckle warmed your heart as he got closer again, his fingers reaching to touch your cheek, making you turn your head straight again. He leaned down to kiss you softly, only leaning back enough to be able to talk while your lips continued to touch. "It's still the most incredible surprise I could ever ask for." Ending his comment with a hard, yet loving full kiss that you reciprocated, when he decided he had one more thing to add. "But I gotta be honest with you, sweetheart," making you look up at him. "If you were expecting me to get the 'Congrats on number 2, dad'...," he shook his head with a tight grin, "you're thinking too highly of me. You're the smart one in the relationship."

A smack to his chest made him only chuckle more as he captured your hand into his. "Stop that," you admonished him. "I realised too late that... that was not how you deliver that message. So not really smart of me either." Making him laugh and pull you into another tight hug, swaying from side to side in glee.

You grinned into the loving embrace, "I love you." Your voice was muffled by his sweatshirt, but he had heard you clearly.

Joel smiled down at you, "I love you too," giving you another peck. "So much." And another.

After a few more kisses were exchanged, as well as just grinning and smiling at each other like the biggest two idiots in love, you had found yourself in a comfortable conversation again. With his arms still around you and yours tightly holding onto him, just standing in the kitchen.

"How are we gonna tell, Sarah?" Joel threw the question into the room before sighing with a chuckle. "Jesus... that girl has been waiting for that moment for months, hasn't she?"

"Yeah," you laughed along with him, nodding your head, and brushing it against his chest. "I already have an idea though."

"Oh yeah?" He let you lean back to meet his awaiting eyes. "What?"

-

That night was spent wrapping Sarah's gifts for the 25th, you showing Joel what you had bought for her and him tearing up once again at the realisation that not only would he be becoming a father for a second time, but also his little daughter would finally become an older sister. And, most importantly, you had started your journey into motherhood from zero on. You got a taste of it when you joined the Miller household, but as pregnancy was the usual first step into becoming a parent, it was a big and exciting time, and your partner was ecstatic about being able to share this with you.

After you had managed to hide your daughter's presents in the same place you'd usually put them, you still managed to surprise Joel with what you had originally planned. Candles and the cake. Even though he already knew about what it said and the news wasn't new to him anymore, you better bet he played into the role and acted out his excitement almost as well as if it was the first time he had heard you say it. His over-exaggeration earned him a few gentle hits to his chest, that quickly turned into a make-out session on the couch, both of you having to remind yourself of the teenager one floor above you that could literally walk out of her room at any point.

-

Within a blink of an eye, Sunday had arrived and the sun shining into your bedroom, hitting your face, woke you up on the 25th. One look at your nightstand let you know that it was already past 9am, and confusion washed over you as you were surprised by the lack of a loud teen, banging on your door, telling you to get up and get downstairs. With a groan you turned around, only to be more confused. Your husband's side of the bed was empty. It wasn't totally out of the ordinary for him to wake up before you, but it was unusual for it to happen on a Saturday. And you not waking up in the process was even weirder.

As it was already late enough, you decided to start your day and get out of bed. The unknown of where your partner was and why you hadn't gotten woken up yet was also tickling your fingertips, impatiently wanting to know the reasoning behind it.

As soon as you stood up, you were hit with your full bladder hurting your stomach, making you waddle over to the door of your bedroom and opening it, ready to head over to the bathroom, when laughter from downstairs stopped you. It was the familiar high-pitched laughter of your daughter, followed by the warm voice of your husband echoing from the kitchen. So that's where they were, you smiled to yourself before turning left to go to the toilet first.

With your business finished and a cardigan you took out of the closet to cover your bare arms with, you walked down the stairs to join the two Millers who already seemed busy in the kitchen.

"Hey Mom," Sarah stopped to look at you as she had just put down the last plate on the dining table.

"Good morning," the moment you noticed your voice still laced with sleep, you cleared your throat.

"Mornin', honey," your husband greeted you, smiling at your dishevelled form. With slow steps, you walked over to the kitchen, stopping right next to Joel, who was filling up three glasses of orange juice as per your daughter's request.

"Why didn't you wake me up?" You asked him, taking two of the glasses that were already filled to bring them over to the table.

"You were pretty deep into your sleep, didn't want to wake you," he explained, taking the third glass with him to join you and Sarah, who had already taken a seat. "Plus," he continued, nodding towards the teenager on his right. "This one woke me up."

A tight smile formed on her face as she pressed her lips together. "Sorry. I dropped something."

"Scared the shit out of me," Joel commented, putting his fork into the pancakes on his plate.

"It was only a mug," Sarah explained, almost rolling her eyes at the exaggeration of her dad.

With scrunched eyebrows, you looked down at your plate. "How did that not wake me up?" You wondered out loud, making your partner chuckle.

He placed his hand on your thigh, "Guess you really need your sleep right now, huh?" Winking at you, unbeknownst to your daughter, who had gotten up again to get the maple syrup her father had forgotten to put on the table. You nudged his knee with a chuckle and a shake of her head, hoping Sarah didn't catch anything of the not-so-subtle hint he had thrown at you.

The rest of breakfast was spent rather peacefully. The teenager wondered about when Tommy would be back to celebrate the next round of Christmas with him, as well as when you'd be making your way to the grandparents in the next few days. You had almost forgotten about that. And the thought of walking into such a family get-together in the state that you were currently in, whether you'd decide to tell them right away or wait for at least the first ultrasound, would be absolutely nerve-wracking for you. But you decided to let future-you worry about that, or at least push the thought back for another day, because there were more important tasks to get through on this very day.

You could already feel your heart beating harder with each step you took closer into the living room where the presents, neatly wrapped by you and Joel were already waiting for Sarah. 

While she had found her usual spot on the floor, right next to the tree, you and your partner cuddled up on the sofa, your gazes already on the girl, who was looking down at the small pile with big eyes. Joel, if needed, was ready to spoil his little girl rotten. Truly, as much as he could possibly give her, he would. But he also knew what kind of person he'd be raising if he were to actually do that. 

Therefore, from an early age on, he decided for himself to give her just enough. Enough presents to make her happy, but never an abnormous amount to let her be ungrateful for the little things in the future. It was one of the things you had admired about him back then and continued to do so even now.

The teenager went through one after the other, opening all of them carefully. With each package, her smile only got wider and wider. Even at the age of 15, Joel and you let her write a letter for Christmas and leave it on the coffee table. Only now, that she was older, it was no longer addressed to Santa Claus but ended with a

'I'll be grateful for whatever you get me. Thank you, love you guys <3'

handwritten by the girl. You knew she'd be thankful for everything you could get her, but her lists were never astronomically long, so fulfilling each one of her wishes wasn't hard for Joel and you. You knew how grateful you had to be to have such a kind-hearted blessing of a child right by your side.

Only that this year, she'd get one more extra present that she hadn't mentioned in her letter.

Just as she was about to get up from the floor, ready to give each one of you a hug and say 'thank you' for the hundredth time, you stopped her and pointed to the last present, you had hidden slightly behind the tree.

"There's one more."

Her eyes followed your fingers before finding the small package you had mentioned. She crouched down to get it from the back, straightening her back with the confused look on her face that she most definitely inherited from her father.

"But I already got everything off the list," she looked back at the two of you.

You smiled at her. "It's something extra. Just a little something."

"What is it?" She wondered, shaking it and bringing it up to her ear, noticing that nothing was moving.

"How are we supposed to know. Santa got you that," Joel commented with a straight face, getting a chuckle from you in return. Sarah, on the other end, glanced at him with a roll of her eyes.

"Ha ha," she mimicked a fake laugh, making Joel sigh.

"I tried."

His hand started brushing up and down your arm in comfort as soon as he saw your fingers playing with a loose string on your cardigan. He knew you were nervous. God, he was too, but he was much better at hiding it.

Sarah ripped the wrapping paper off, putting it to the side where she had collected all of the rest. As she was holding her present upside down, she turned it around.

"Oh, a book!" She called out, her lips curling up into a smile.

"What's the title?" Joel nagged, making you grin.

The girl's eyes glided over the front page. "'The Diary Of An Older Sister'," she read out loud, "Sounds interesting. Thank you!" She looked back at you with a big smile on her lips.

You could only copy her expression, intertwining your fingers tightly with each other. "I thought it might be helpful," you mentioned.

"Helpful?" Sarah wondered, turning her full body around to look straight ahead at the two of you. "For what? I'm not a big sister."

If you weren't as anxiety-ridden as you were right at that moment, you would've been grateful for her catching up on the hint much faster than her father did with his.

"Well," Joel stared, not able to hold back a grin himself, "In a few months you will be."

The girl scoffed with scrunched eyebrows, "But mom's not pregnant," she simply said, before a different thought hit her right the next second. Her gaze switched sharply towards you. "Or are you?" Before you could even answer her, she shot up to her feet. "ARE YOU?!" She called out.

You couldn't help but giggle at her reaction as she kept on repeating the question in her high-pitched voice.

"ARE YOU?! ARE YOU REALLY?!" 

Biting down on your lip to stop yourself from continuing your laughter, you nodded at her.

"OH MY GOD!" She shouted out, now also getting a chuckle out of Joel. "REALLY?!" Her mind was still not settling on whether your answer was true or not.

"Yeah," you nodded, "I'm pregnant," and finally announced, getting a sudden squeal from the teenager in return as she ran up to you. Her hand quickly found yours, pulling you to stand up as well, her squealing continuing as she engulfed you in a tight hug. With a warm smile on your lips, you wrapped your arms around her as she started to sway you. But she broke the sweet moment when she took a step back all of a sudden.

"Are you really not messing with me?" She continued to ask, her hands balled into fists in excitement. "Are you serious?" Her gazes switched between you and Joel, waiting for each one of you to confirm it yet again.

"Why do both of you think I'd be lying about this," you chuckled at the situation you had with your husband merely two days ago repeating itself again.

"So you're really pregnant?" Sarah wondered, her eyes already as big as they could possibly be. The familiar glass film covering her lenses, just like they did with you and her dad as well.

"Yeah," you told her quietly, nodding excitedly when another squeal of hers echoed through the room. She rushed back over to you, making you stumble back slightly when she threw her arms around you again. With your arm looping around her, you pulled her in closer, if that was even possible, kissing the side of her head as you teared up. It felt like only yesterday when you had to kiss the top of her head as she was still smaller than you. Way too quickly had she grown up into a beautiful girl, you couldn't be any happier to let your little one have as an older sister.

While the two of you continued to just stand still, clinging onto each other, your husband clearing his throat from next to you, made you look back. He had gotten up from the couch with a soft groan - his back wasn't getting any better. "Well, I guess my job's done here."

Sarah loosened her grip around you, only to roll her eyes with a dramatic sigh. With a smile, she stepped closer to her dad, who was already waiting for her with open arms. His lips curled up as soon as she was in his embrace. Lowering his head, he placed a few soft kisses on her hair before he reached one arm out, ushering for you to get closer. He had noticed the tears you were wiping away, smiling sweetly at you.

Joel pulled you in swiftly. Your arms immediately went around the girl's body while your husband kept his hand on your back, going back to rubbing circles on it as you gazed up at him, the smile never even daring to leave your lips.

"Thank you," Sarah suddenly spoke up. "I promise, I'll be the best big sister ever."

You and your partner chuckled at each other, Joel taking a deep breath as he saw more tears falling from your eyes.

"We know that, baby girl," he quietly told her, his free hand brushing over her hair, pulling her in just a bit closer to let his cheek rest upon her head.

Let the journey of 'baby on the way' officially start.

joel taglist: @corvusmorte @aniia-x3 @skysmiller

pedro taglist: @leslieelainetrask @taylorgracies

[livingemkayde]

between blurred lines

best friend's dad!/dad's best friend!joel miller x f!reader

(pre-outbreak)

↳ warnings: this is rated for 18+ only! minors, please do not interact. smut, unprotected pinv, fingering f! receiving, cockwarming (!?!?!?) uhh dom!joel, significant age gap, dad's best friend mixed with some best friends dad (?!!?!?!?). i think that's it, let me know if i forgot anything.

↳ a/n: I LOOK PRETTY GOOD FOR A DEAD BITCH (she's alive!). im back from my tumblr break bearing a gift! i missed you all like crazy. gonna spend finals week catching up (procrastinating) on all the reading ive missed out on for the last month. i hope you guys like this one.

AND a very special thanks to @joelsversion for beta reading this in it's very early rough, rough stages. my ride or die fr 🤞

↳ summary: joel miller has always been...there. never different, always sporting a brooding scowl etched into his handsome face. he's your best friend sarah miller's dad, arguably worse, your dad's long time buddy. things are never different. not until this summer. not until now.

↳ follow @livingemkaydenotifs if you would like to be notified about more fics like this. love ya'll big time

↳ if you would like to read more of mine: masterlist

“You shouldn’t be in here.” “No,” you agree breathlessly. “I shouldn’t.” He slots himself against you, his other hand grips your hip and pushes you back into him. You gasp softly.  “Let it go.” You realize he’s talking about your dress. You squeeze your eyes shut. His lips skate against your neck in a way that makes you dip your head to the side in a silent surrender.  “Let it go,” he repeats.

You grew up with Sarah Miller. 

Soccer teams, high school football pep rallies, prom, homecoming, college acceptance season. Even though it turned into long distance facetime calls, and text chains nine messages long once college hit, Sarah Miller will forever and always be your best friend. 

It’s good to be back in Texas. Both you and Sarah moved back into your childhood homes the second after graduation hit. It’s good to be back, good to see her, your parents, and…Joel. 

You hadn’t seen him in a while. The last time you remember spending more than five minutes in his passing presence was when you and Sarah decided on that Chinese place for a post-high school graduation ceremony meal. He’s close with your dad. In an old school kind of way. In a lets raise our kids together kind of way and a the wives can go shopping together kind of way — before Sarah’s mom split, that is. 

Joel Miller, always brooding, always gruff and quiet. He’s never different. Though, you can’t help but think things might be different now—

No. You almost have to remind yourself out loud. He’s not different. He never is. He’s Joel Miller and you’re — you’re just a kid. You’re as old as his kid. 

Sarah, despite your hardened efforts, managed to drag you out of bed and into the shortest dress you own for a night at some club halfway across town. 

“Sarah, are the shot glasses still in the top cabinet?”

You reach for the knob, barely getting onto the balls of your feet before slipping on the cold laminate tiles in the kitchen. Your open palm balls into a fist and makes the cabinets shutter. Sarah responds with something from her room equally as unintelligible as your question was to her. You can feel your dress starting to ride up a little in your efforts, but you rifle through the Miller’s cabinets like it’s your own home. In some ways it is. 

“Hey, kid.”

You spin around, and quickly shuffle the hem of your dress back down. He nods his head in a lazy greeting. 

“Hey.” You’re breathless for some reason. It’s not because of the shot glasses. 

“Been a while,” Joel says, shuffling into the kitchen and setting a mug in the sink. He looks the same. Tousled hair and a beard just beginning to tinge gray. He’s always — always the same. 

You clear your throat. “Yeah. Been a while.” 

“Congratulations.”

“Thanks.” 

“Good to have you back,” he mumbles, settling back against the kitchen counter. You can see his arms flex when his palms settle onto the countertop. He’s strong, so much bigger than you. You never really noticed the big broadness of him until now. You’re not used to guys like him. All the boys you ever really experienced were clean shaven, soft in a way that told you they’ve never hauled ass through a day’s work. A lifetime of work. 

“Good to be back.” He clocks your outfit. You try to change the subject. “How are things?”

“Same ol’ same ol’.” He grabs a beer from the fridge. “Your dad’s gettin’ into golf. Tryna make me go out with him.” 

You laugh. “Not your scene?” 

“No, not quite.” He shakes his head, sipping on his beer with a smirk that almost makes your knees weak. “What’d you study again?” 

You scoff playfully. “Like you remembered in the first place.”

“Play along.” He smirks.

A knot sticks to your stomach, just below your navel. His voice is sickly sweet. Syrupy and Texan. His voice is like medicine. 

“Education. Just applied for jobs in the fall.”

“You teachin’?” 

“That’s the plan,” you let out with a breathless kind of laugh. 

“Smart girl.” 

His head cocks, and tilts it to the side. Your breath catches in your throat, palms sweaty against the black fabric of your dress. “Hardly.” 

He pauses, eyes you. It’s fleeting—you might think you dream it. You pick at the skin of your own thumb. 

“Your dad know you’re goin’ out?” 

You scoff. “I’m an adult. Don’t need my dad’s permission.”

“Don’t be a smart ass.” 

You eye him, a smirk plays on his lips. 

“I’m not—just…grown up, I guess.”

Something unreadable spreads across his face. “I guess.”

You hitch a tough breath. 

“What’d you need?” He swigs at his beer. 

“Oh.” You look back towards the cabinets, then. “Shot glasses.” 

“Moved ‘em,” he nods and stalks forward, backing you against the counter. He’s got a dark swirl of something warming behind his gaze. You don’t try to scoot away. Even when he reaches up next to your head and you hear the clink of two shot glasses brush up against each other in his fingers. 

“Don’t have too much fun,” he whispers while he pushes the glasses into your hands and leaves the kitchen.

__

You desperately, for your life, cannot keep up with Sarah Miller. 

She drinks entirely too quickly, efficiently, and practiced for your poor alcohol tolerance to keep up with. She’s a machine, and after three shots in, you’re already wasted. It wasn’t even midnight when your vision started to pull in a sideways direction and everything seemed a little slow. You knew things were taking a turn for the worst when the blonde quaffed frat guy with a Texas A&M polo shirt started sounding a little too funny. He was glued to your hip the entire night, though you aren’t sure you even remember his name correctly. You have your bets set on Colter, but then again, after your second shot, everything started to sound a little fuzzy to your rosied ears. 

And when Colter called you and Sarah an Uber at three a.m., you didn’t have the guts to ask him his name, only shooting him a half hearted thanks over your shoulder—your liquid courage having sobered up by the time the Uber rounded the corner to the Miller’s house. 

Even though Sarah Miller can throw back shots like it’s her day job, she passed out onto her bed as quickly as you both left her childhood bedroom while running late for your driver to the club. 

Before she promptly fell asleep, she mumbled something almost unintelligible into the pink sheets of her twin sized bed. But you could make it out enough to spring back from her words while your heart skipped a beat. 

“Get a shirt from my dads room.” 

So you knock, quietly, almost too quietly, and when you rap your knuckles against the wood of Joel Miller’s bedroom door a little harder, it pushes open slightly. The crack of it floods black, you can’t see inside, only the dim night sky illuminating the window sill and curtains in its wake.

When you push it open a little further, the door creaks so loud you push your eyebrows together with worry and freeze in your timely steps. But it’s empty. The bed isn’t entirely made, the covers a little rumpled and haphazard. You spot his dresser and make a quick beeline for it, itching to get out of your uncomfortable dress. 

The drawer slides open with a shift of wood on wood and you snatch up the first black t-shirt you find sitting neatly on top of the pile. Subconsciously, you bring it to your nose—sunlight, and evergreens, and a little hint of musk that peaks through the laundry detergent. The worn, soft cotton of it makes you sigh deep into the dark bedroom. You close your eyes, ball your fist up around the collar and lean into the dresser with your palm fitting against the edge of wood. Just as you turn around and move to close the drawer in your exit, a voice pulls your eyes up from the darkness. 

“What’re you doin’?”

You jump, almost instinctively bringing his shirt to your chest. A sinking, uneasy feeling settles right under your throat. It’s almost like you’ve been caught red handed—you most definitely were. 

You don’t say anything. The light pouring in from the hallway surely illuminates you enough. Joel’s eyes trail down to your bare legs, then to his shirt you have clutched in your hands. 

“That my shirt?” He points to your chest with a vague gesture of his hands. You look down at the material balled up in between your shaky fingers, then back to his eyes.

“I don’t—” You shake your head even though you know your efforts are fruitless. The least you can do is tell the truth. 

“Sarah—she’s—she’s sleeping. Told me to get clothes in here.” You make a slight nod of your head towards his open dresser. He doesn’t say anything, but he takes a step towards you. 

“Sorry, I can just—” You point towards the door behind him, and move to leave. 

“‘S fine,” he mumbles in that deepened, soaked drawl. All honey, and velvet, wrapping you up into something warm and inviting. It tugs at something just beneath your belly. 

When he gets closer, your breath punches out in a staggered rise and fall of your chest. Your fingers don’t move from clutching his shirt. When he nears, he slips a hand past you, brushing your waist, and shuts the drawer closed with a soft thunk. 

Your breath catches in your throat, his eyes trail your figure. 

“Fun night?” 

You clear your throat, nod, slowly, still studying his darkened gaze. “Yeah.”

You clock how close he is when you put your weight on one hip and his jeans brush up against your bare thigh. His breath swirls on your eyelashes. He tugs on his shirt in your hands and lets out a hearty sigh. Shifting from one foot to the other, then again. It seems like you both stay like that for years. 

Brown. His eyes are brown—maybe a little darker than they normally are. His eyes try not to roam, but that hint of something is gone before you can blink. 

He backs away then, towards the door. Most likely seeing you out. He settles near the entrance and looks back at you. Your bare feet shuffle through the carpet. He nudges the door open with a rough palm on the doorknob, leaning against the frame as you approach. 

You’re about to leave, but he catches your elbow, and you spin back to him in a desperate kind of way. 

“You look pretty,” he whispers to your surprise. “Forgot t’mention it earlier.” 

Pretty. 

He thinks you’re pretty. You didn’t even think pretty was in his vocabulary. 

You didn’t think he would notice. 

You don’t say anything. Your eyebrows furrow with want. You study him, eye his brown stare and the way his chest rises and falls under the navy blue t-shirt he’s wearing. And you slowly—slowly push the door shut. You both watch it close. It clicks, the sound of it deafening to your ears. 

He would never, ever make the first move. You’re smart enough to know that for certain, but—pretty. He thinks you’re pretty, and after all this time, it’s still always Joel. 

So you turn your back to him, swipe your hair over one shoulder and turn your head to the side. You can hear him silently swear under his breath. 

“You mind?” you say, gesturing to the zipper of your dress. His soft steps pads on the floor. You can almost feel his chest against your shoulder blades. 

His fingers toy with the zipper, hot and rough but—hesitant. He pulls it down slowly anyways, exposing your back to the crisp air conditioned air, and the heat of his gaze. The straps fall as the zipper does, he curses again, succumbing to your decided fate. 

You hold the front of your dress to your body on instinct, even though the only thing you want to do right now involves him ripping it off you. 

He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t do anything else—doesn’t back away or come closer or leave. So you reach your hand backward to find him and gasp softly when his fingers tangle with yours. You pull his hand to your body. He locks onto your waist like a leech. 

“What’re you doin’?” He rasps against the shell of your ear, almost like he’s pleading with you. He sounds like he’s in pain. Maybe he’s torn between pleasure and good judgment. You want him to forget about the latter entirely. 

Your stomach drops, you glance to the side again. 

“I thought—” 

“You thought, what?”

Your face goes hot, stare at your feet instead. His hand doesn’t leave you. 

“I don’t…” 

“You thought this was a good idea?” 

You don’t say anything. For some reason you didn’t think it was a bad idea. Not when his hand reaches around to grab your hip.

“What would your daddy think?” 

“I don’t really care what he thinks.” An admission more than anything. 

He sucks in a breath. A quiet contemplation. The look on his face doesn't read pissed, but it's a far cry from happy. You don't know what is behind his gaze.

“Nothin’ but trouble.” He breathes out in a heavy sigh. “Ain’t ya?”

His voice is so much deeper now. His accent shows through, silken and so southern it makes you grip your dress a little harder on instinct. You’ve lost count of how many times your breath has gotten caught up in the tightness of your throat. 

“‘S one word for it.” 

He almost growls, his hand skits down to the hem of your dress and pushes his fingers under it, trailing upward, but stopping before he meets lace. 

“You shouldn’t be in here.”

“No,” you agree breathlessly. “I shouldn’t.”

He slots himself against you, his other hand grips your hip and pushes you back into him. You gasp softly. 

“Let it go.” You realize he’s talking about your dress. You squeeze your eyes shut. His lips skate against your neck in a way that makes you dip your head to the side in a silent surrender. 

“Let it go,” he repeats. 

You drop the hand on your chest and his t-shirt with it. Your dress falls to the floor in a black blanket of smoke. You gasp when his hands are on you, inching slowly from the hem of your underwear to grasp your breast in a rough, teasing palm. 

A small sound escapes past your lips. His other hand, quick to respond, slots over your mouth, silencing you and your whiny moans. 

It’s — rough. The way he pushes his palm into your face to quiet your whimpering, forcing your head back to rest against his shoulder. The way he pushes your underwear down your thighs to rest with his forgotten t-shirt, and your all too tight, too short dress. It’s rough, but so, so gentle. 

It feels like heaven. 

You pitch your back, arching into him in a desperate way. Writhing against him when he finally pushes a calloused finger in between your dripping folds. 

“Jesus.” He shakes his head. You can feel the scratch of his beard against your temple. You wonder what that scruff might feel like between your thighs. “Been wantin’ it all night, huh?”

It’s a question, but not one he needs an answer to. The mess between your thighs is evidence enough. 

Joel. You try to plead, but he’s relentless in his quieting attempts. The pad of his finger brushes against your clit and you’re keening against him. You can feel him smile. 

“Quiet,” he whispers into your ear, then lifts his hand from your mouth, hovering, waiting until the inevitable moan to escape past your lips. But you try your hardest, bite at the skin on the inside of your lip, and he rewards you. He’s a gentleman like that. He sinks his middle finger into your cunt, rubbing tight circles on your swollen clit with his thumb. Everything about him is just so, just right. 

Maybe, usually, with other guys, you’d be disappointed if they’re stingy with the foreplay. But you walked throughout the bar all night with slick dripping through soaked lace just at his words in the kitchen. Smart girl. So you push back into him and beg him—

“Joel.” You’re breathless. You plead at him with your body, with everything you have. “Please,” you whisper simply. 

Something like desperation and want and a little twinge of anxiety settles in your stomach when he releases you. He walks you back to the edge of the bed. It smells like him when you lay down and the softness of the blankets kiss the edges of your face. You can hear the clink of his belt buckle and you suck in a tiny breath.

“How do you want it, baby?” 

You push him back, and his eyes go wide. It’s the first reaction you’ve gotten out of him the whole night. A peak behind his brooding mask. And when you settle each leg on either side of his hips, he groans. It makes you a little more brave. 

“Like this,” you whisper, placing your hands on his chest. He grabs at your wrists, and pushes them under his wide palm to his stomach so you lean forward down to him. He pushes his boxers down and you try not to look, but you make a small sound at the sight. 

“Look good—” he grunts. You take his tip and notch it at your entrance. “Always look so pretty.” 

Your heart pounds in your chest. Everything is different. Everything is new. 

Pretty. 

“Fuck,” you whisper, glancing down at just the sight of him. The size of him. 

“You’re okay, angel.” 

Your gaze snaps to his face. He nods. You believe him. 

“I—ah—” you whimper. “I can take it.” 

“I know you can,” he grunts when you sink down an inch and take the tip of him. Your hips cant at the feeling, taking more of him through groans and pressing whines. He lets you set the pace. Let's you take your time. Even when he’s panting through his gritted teeth and tight lips. 

You sink down on him until there’s nothing left to take. It’s almost painful. But he’s right there, playing with the pearl of your clit, massaging your hips. He knows how much you can take and when you can take it. He seems to know alot about you while knowing very little. 

“Shit,” you groan. “Oh my — god.”

You can hear him muttering something along the lines of perfect. 

It feels that way—perfect. He fits inside you with a tight stretch but nothing compares to the feeling of his throbbing length resting inside you. You would die here with your wanton moans and you would wake to find nothing less. 

“Joel,” you whine, clenching around him, the stretch starts to sweeten. 

“That’s—fuck—yeah, good girl,” he whispers. He sounds like something sweet and dark and rough. You fist at his t-shirt. Just like the one left forgotten by the door. You don’t remember what you came in here for anymore. Not when you’re dangerously close from his thumb rubbing slow circles on your clit. 

“Fuck. Yeah?” He can feel it. From the inside. “Y’gonna come, baby?” 

It’s embarrassing. That you could come like this, with him waiting patiently inside you. You don’t have it in you to lie, you don’t have it in you to bounce up and down or move at all. He turned your legs to jello. 

“I-I don’t—” 

“C’mon,” he grunts and grips your hips to keep him flush to your body. “Know ya want it.”

It only takes one swift rock of your hips. His hands, broad and sprawled out across the plushness of your sides. Your body stalls out on top of him. He sits up to wrap his arms around you and brings you close on instinct. If your brain wasn’t so hazy and you weren’t so lightheaded your heart might swell at the thought. You bite out something sounding somewhat like his name—it’s a garbled whisper and cut of words but you think he gets the gist. 

“I—Ngh—fuck,” he whispers into the crown of your hair. You can feel him throbbing inside you. You chuckle something halfway coherent and let him flip you over, settled on your stomach with your face in the sheets. His fingers skip over your backside. 

“Joel,” you breathe. “I—” 

“Relax,” he says behind you, spreading your folds and staring at the way your cunt clenches around nothing. “Just relax, angel.” 

So you do, you sink boneless into the mattress and let him press you down into the sheets. He feels so broad. He feels so good. You tell him quite as much, in not so many words. You feel the weight of him settle behind you, his hand coming up to brace himself by your head. 

“God, you feel so fuckin’ good.” He sinks in, inch by inch. It’s not so much of a stretch anymore. Carving a place for himself inside you. It feels like he belongs there. You think to yourself that he probably does. You’re squirming beneath him, wringing your fists in dark blue sheets. 

You clamp your eyes shut when he bottoms out. Even more so when he finds a pace he likes and sets it. You don’t have to beg him anymore. Your legs shake beneath his hips, even more so when he hikes your leg up on the bed so he can push deeper. 

Something deep rolls through you again. It shocks you. Most of the guys you’ve been with haven’t made you come once, let alone twice. 

“I can’t—” you whine. “I—fuck.” 

He picks up the pace. 

“Y’can,” he grunts. “Know y’can, c’mon, baby.” 

You nuzzle your face in cotton. His hips chase his release and you know you’re close when he nudges against your g-spot.

“Don’t stop,” you whine. “Please don’t fucking stop, Joel, please, it—ah."

When you come, he grunts through ragged breaths. White hot pools in your stomach and you whine so loudly you’re worried about the neighbors. His hand comes to brace against the back of your neck. You’re so fucking soaked he slides through you easily. 

“Jesus, fuck,” he growls. He bears down on you and your hips and sinks to his elbows when he can’t keep himself up anymore. You feel the cotton of his t-shirt brush against your back. It sends a shiver up your spine. He comes, pulling out and spilling over your back. You try to hide your disappointment. 

He lays beside you for a minute, you barely reach your hand up from the bedsheets to brush against his bicep. He studies your face and pants through a slack jaw. He’s scruffy and broad and — perfect. 

Your gaze flick to his mouth, then his eyes. You silently realize he never kissed you. 

“Gonna get me killed,” he whispers. It’s almost weirdly affectionate in a way only Joel Miller could say. Still stuck in a limbo between pleasure and reality. You smile, softly. 

He climbs off you, and slinks to the bathroom. You wait with baited breath until you hear the water run. He emerges with a soft looking towel, damp with water, clinging to his fingers. You watch him and shiver when the towel touches your back. 

“Okay?” he whispers when you sit up and turn to look at him. 

“Yeah, okay.” 

It feels like something is supposed to happen now. You’re not used to this. Everything slowly comes back as the pleasure ebbs and you blink back to reality. You open your mouth, then close it. He does the same. 

You can hear Sarah’s door open and you both freeze. His brown eyes search yours through a furrowed brow. Your heart goes back into normal rhythm when you hear the bathroom door shut. Then nothing. 

He snags a new shirt from his dresser and tugs it over your body. 

The Texans. 

“Cute,” you gesture to the shirt. It’s soft underneath your fingers, worn. A gentle kind of faded navy blue. Joel picks up your dress off the floor and folds it into your chest while scoffing. 

“Shut up,” He shakes his head, but he can’t hide the smirk on his face. “Get outta here.” 

It’s all oddly playful. Like you both can’t believe it and are giddy at that fact.  

“Same time next week?” 

Something deeper flicks across his gaze at the doorway. “Is that a promise?” 

“You can’t answer a question with another question.” 

You turn when you leave the doorway and settle into the hallway. He’s got his hand on the doorframe, leaning into it—towering over you and already burning something hot through you. Again. 

“I just did,” he grumbles with a smug look, and then shuts the door. 

__

[7seas-of-ryy]

Friendly Neighbors

Author’s Note: Reader is in her twenties, this is set pre-outbreak. I’ve always loved Pedro Pascal and I’m so glad he’s getting his attention :)))

Pairing: Pre-Outbreak!Joel Miller x Reader

Summary: You’re neighbors with Joel and Sarah. She adores you and little do you know, he does too <3

Warnings: some kissing, let me know if there’s anything I missed :)

“Hey look what I found at the book store!” Sarah yelled out to you as she let herself into your house.

“Ooooo show me!” You responded. 

You had moved into the house next to hers a couple months ago and she quickly latched onto you, claiming you had to be her friend because all of her other neighbors were too old. You knew she probably needed some girl time occasionally because she lived with her dad, so you always allowed her to stop by. 

“I remember you telling me your favorite book was Pride and Prejudice, and I found a copy of it at the book store, so now I can read it!” The young girl exclaimed. 

“Oh yeah? And where did you get the money for that?” You asked her with a grin on your face, knowing she took it from Joel’s dresser drawer. 

“...alright I took it from my dad’s drawer. But I really wanted to read this book, I want to know why its your favorite!” She admitted

As if on cue, Joel knocked on the door.

“Hey is Sarah here? She never came home after school.” He asked you, looking worried.

You looked back at Sarah and she had a sheepish smile. “Yes, I’m so sorry she’s right in here. If I knew she didn’t tell you, I would’ve let you know” You said feeling guilty. You already felt as though he didn’t like you and you did not want to add onto that feeling.

“Dad, give her your number so she can text you if I’m over here” Sarah said smugly, with a huge grin on her face. She knew her dad liked you and she assumed you liked him because of how flustered you got every time you talked to him.

“oh uh... um ok is that...ok?” Joel stuttered over his words.

“Oh, uh yeah that... would be ok” You responded, also stumbling over your words.

Sarah stood in between you both watching and trying to not laugh.

“Ok anyways, I was just showing (Y/N) the book I bought.” She giggled

“Pride and Prejudice...” Joel said reading the cover “Never read it”

You gasped and playfully grasped at your chest, making both of them laugh. You always made them both smile. Joel loved you but he really loved how much Sarah loved you. He couldn’t remember the last time she had a mother figure in her life. 

“I can NOT believe you. Now I understand why Sarah never read it so she gets a pass. But Joel, that is unforgivable” you smiled

“Yeah, and I wanna read it before I watch the movie.” Sarah added

“There’s a movie? See I’ll watch that but I aint reading no book” Joel spoke.

“It’s my favorite movie too!” You exclaimed

“Hmmm well this actually works out perfect...” Sarah stated as you and Joel eyed her “My friend just messaged me and she wants to study together”

“And why is that perfect?” You asked

“I don’t wanna watch the movie yet, my dad said he’ll watch it and it’s your favorite so I’ll go study and you guys can hang out here and watch it together” She responded

“Well I don’t want to interrupt (Y/N)’s night” Joel said

“She’s not doing anything tonight, she said all she was gonna do was drink wine anyways” Sarah responded just as fast

You immediately got embarrassed at the information that was just exposed. 

Joel hesitated and then responded “Ok lets watch it” 

Sarah said her goodbyes and headed to her friends to study. You’re rarely alone with Joel so you weren’t sure how well this was going to go. 

Joel was the first to break the silence, “If you still want to drink some wine, I have a bottle at my house that I’ve been waiting to open. I could go grab it for us” he offered

“Yeah actually, that would be really nice” you smiled at him

He went and grabbed the wine and you got everything ready for the movie. Before you knew it, you were both sitting on your couch about to start the movie. There was an awkward space between you both. You could tell he was thinking the same thing as you and you both made eye contact.

“You can scoot closer to me if you need some more space” He spoke

You smiled and with as much courage as you had, scooted closer to him till your sides were almost touching. Once you got that close, he put his arm around you and pulled you into his side. You laid your head on his shoulder and you both watched the movie.

You could feel his eyes on you throughout the movie and it was driving you insane. You didn’t think your cheeks could get any redder at this point and all you wanted to do was grab him and kiss him.

“Did you know you smile at this movie a lot” he asked in the middle of the it.

You looked at up at him with big eyes, feeling embarrassed.

“I can definitely tell it’s your favorite, it’s really cute...” He whispered easily to you “You’re really cute, actually... you’re very beautiful”

You thought you might combust. You couldn’t believe your ears. THE Joel Miller was calling you beautiful??

“You’re very beautiful too” you told him

“Thank you darlin” He laughed and put a piece of your hair behind your ear

You subconsciously moved closer to him. Your eyes never left each others as you both leaned in. He kissed you softly as if you were made of glass and one wrong move would break you. He pulled away and you pulled him right back to you in a much more heated kiss. Once you both stopped due to your need for oxygen, you couldn’t stop smiling.

“I don’t think Sarah had to study” You whispered

He laughed “She definitely just wanted us alone”

“I wanted us alone” You admitted

“I did too” He agreed as you both continued laughing and kissing like teenagers in love.

[uselesssomebody]

𝕗𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕥𝕙 𝕠𝕗 𝕛𝕦𝕝𝕪 (𝕝𝕝)- neighbor!joel miller x reader (pre!outbreak)

complete masterlist | joel miller masterlist

"𝕚 𝕟𝕖𝕖𝕕 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕚 𝕟𝕖𝕖𝕕 𝕪𝕠𝕦, 𝕓𝕒𝕓𝕖 𝕝𝕚𝕜𝕖 𝕚 𝕟𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕟𝕖𝕖𝕕𝕖𝕕 𝕒𝕟𝕪𝕠𝕟𝕖" - you can be the boss | lana del rey

words || 𝟞.𝟠𝕜

summary || in which the reader and joel don't speak for a few months

previous part || fourth of july (I)

a/n || this is very feral but badly written smut; bad combo, man ➵ it's exam szn so me posting will be sporadic i can't lie. ➵ experimenting with the accent, tell me what y'all think ➵ same disclaimer: there is an age gap in this story !! if that makes you uncomfortable, i have many other non-age-gap fics you can browse on my page. reader is like 27 and joel is like 36. he's not old, though he is mentioned as such because he's old compared to her. also canonical dilf ➵ not edited (yet) ➵ i've been on a bit of a pascal spree and am thinking about writing for javier pena, frankie morales, agent whiskey and din djarin whenever i find time to update, so ➵ send me requests if you have ‘em. enjoy!

warnings || fluff/smut/bit of angst➵ unprotected p.i.v. ➵ oral (f receiving) ➵ fingering ➵ cum ig (tell me if i miss anything)

it was nicky’s first day of school. that was how much time had passed.

she adjusted her hair in the mirror for a moment, as her sister wrapped up her lunch and placed it neatly into a bag. as she came down the stairs, she had a distinct pep in her step, practically waltzing into the kitchen before she sat to eat her breakfast.

“someone’s excited!” nicky nodded at her sister’s accurate assessment, as she scarfed down the scrambled eggs on her plate. her sister watched her fondly, handing her some water, and then a napkin, before sitting opposite her.

the two sat, conversing in between nicky’s bites: nicky was telling her about all the things that she’d heard from sarah about the school, and her sister was listening adamantly, only interrupting her in order to remind her to chew her food.

when she was done, she grabbed her bag, kissed her sister on the cheek, and opened to door to meet her friends, making her way to the bus stop just a few doors down. her sister looked up to see the neighbor opposite them looking over the group with a similar smile on her face, as her daughter goes to join the group as well. she waves at her, and the neighbor smiles back.

they’d been in the neighborhood for a few months, and she found the people around her to be simply a part of her routines - waving at jerry the postman, greeting martha and john when either left for work, or spending a few minutes each afternoon petting the pinscher that the marriots had gotten when his daily walk passed her lawn.

she was accustomed to it all. except for one little thing.

joel miller.

after that fourth of july evening, she felt as though he’d been avoiding her like the plague, always jetting in and out of the house at odd times in his pickup, and seemingly stuck to the confines of his place whenever she was outside, tending to the small plants on their lawn to keep it presentable and inviting. when she smiled at or greeted him, he’d give her a curt nod or a gruff good morning, before taking just slightly longer strides away.

it threw her for a loop completely, unable to understand how the man could go from the affection present in their moment of intimacy, to something as foreign as a stranger. for the first couple days, she found herself offended and a little insulted by the change in attitude, before it morphed into something more carefree as she came to the conclusion everyone comes to at some point in their life.

men ain’t shit.

joel miller should have woken up that morning to the sound of his alarm, but the late night he’d had to pull last night had rendered him half dead as he slumbered deeper into the morning.

it took sarah shouting for him, knocking at his door, and then tentatively stepping inside to grab his arm and physically lug him up. the pressure around his forearm made him groggily open his eyes and, seeing her impatient but amused face, he nodded with a groan, ensuring her that he’d be up in a moment.

sarah’s uncle tommy was eating out of their pantry as he plated her toast, handing the slices over to her as her father descended the stairs. he patted sarah’s shoulder as he passed her, and she mumbled a sarcastic good morning through her bites. tommy smiled at his brother’s barely-awake face as joel reached for his coffee.

“you look like shit,” he chides, as joel sips out of his large mug. he places it down, shaking his head as he grasps his food from tommy’s fingers, and placing it back where it belongs.

“and ya eat like shit, tom.” tommy’s expression turns exaggeratedly indignant, and sarah laughs as she see it. she places her plate into the sink as she wipes her mouth, and she sidesteps her father to grab her backpack.

“you don’t need to drop me off - i’m gonna head to the bus with nicky and some of the other girls.” joel’s curious expression peers over his mug, but, seeing sarah’s excited face as her eyes glanced to the windows to see if her friends had already left home, he smiles into the beverage.

“’lright.” she smiles, making a beeline for the door as he follows her to wave her off. “ya ready?” he asks, as she puts her sneakers on and, when she rises again, she nods, almost solemnly.

“i’ll see you tonight?” joel winced, scratching his head as he thought about how long he’d be on-site that day.

“i - i think so?” it’s not a statement, instead a question, but it makes sarah smile a little as she rolled her eyes, pulling her father into a goodbye hug. he squeezed her tightly, before opening the door for her and watching her walk over to nicky and her sister’s place.

when he looked up, he saw the younger girl exit her house, her sister in the doorway as she said goodbye to her.

she was wearing a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, obviously also not having been awake for too long, but the mere sight of her makes joel adjust on the heels of his feet, straightening his back as leaned just slightly against the door way.

she was as gorgeous as two months ago, when he’d had the pleasure of seeing her in that much less. every time he saw her petting that one little dog, or meticulously looking over her flowers, all he wanted to do was hold her again.

but, of course, he realized how it looked: he was getting older; even sarah had started teasing him about it, and, well, she wasn’t. she may have had a type excluding men her age, but that wasn’t feasible - and joel had panicked after the realization that, though the sex was great, he wasn’t particularly capable of being much more than that for her without her having to sacrifice a likely healthier and more realistic relationship. besides, after his experience with sarah’s mother, he had always been worried as to what to do and how to handle future endeavors with women. so, he’d pretty much sworn off them.

that didn’t make it any easier when he had to pretend he didn’t care all that much about her when her gaze radiated in his direction.

tommy peeked out of the doorway, trying to see what had so keenly captured his brother’s attention. following his gaze, he sees the neighbor that sarah had been telling him about previously, and he suppressed a laugh as he looked between her soft, smiling figure and his brother’s ‘kicked puppy’ expression. he patted his chest as he exited the house, ready to start the car.

“don’t stare too much - y’already look like a creep.” joel blinked his thoughts away as he focused on his brother’s advice. he rolled his eyes, grabbing the car keys that tommy had somehow forgot and tossing them to him as he locked the door.

“stop runnin’ yer mouth, tommy.”

she found herself home alone so much more now. of course, she had work to keep her distracted, but she’d wrap up quickly, not having quite that much to do as she waited for her sister to come back and for her to routinely explain the events of her day. she’d subscribed herself to an almost-riveting nature show that would air in the afternoons, feeling her eyes focus and unfocus on the colorful videos of birds or the tense videos of predators and prey.

on the days the two girls wanted a bit of privacy, or maybe some quiet, they would head over the millers’ place, knowing that mr.miller wouldn’t be back in for another few hours

but when they didn’t, nicky’d tend to bring sarah back to hers for a bit. her sister was more than happy to accommodate the two girls, enjoying the company and finding a distinct amusement in their banter. sarah spent just as much time talking to her as she did nicky, mostly for - shockingly enough - cooking tips. she’d mentioned how often her father was out of the house, and how that owed to her sometimes becoming bored of the takeout that he or her uncle would bring, and that she would usually eat the leftovers from the next night.

when she suggested that she teach her some basic meals to add some variety to her dinners, sarah was more excited than expected. that enthusiasm, and the fact that she was a fast learner contributed to the both of them spending many a evening experimenting with some new meal that one of the three girls picked up. though nicky would usually listen in to the lessons, or help organize the correct ingredients or pans, she spent nearly as much time trying to swipe bites from practically each step of the cooking process, owing to sarah’s continued amusement, and her sister’s exaggerated annoyance.

truly, sarah had sometimes found it a bit lonely at her place, only really seeing her family when her father or uncle would sporadically pop-in as they’d forgotten some documents, or something like that. now, though, she was relieved that that loneliness didn’t occur as much, in the sweet company of her neighbors.

so, when she bid nicky goodbye a little early one night, as she’d had to go home and speak with her parents, she was shocked to find, as she unlocked her door, the dull sound of the t.v., followed by a mumbled greeting from her father. she turned the corner to the living room, and his tired form was sprawled over the couch, with a her-shaped spot next to him. she took the opportunity, sitting beside him as he gave her a quick squeeze, only half-paying attention to his surroundings.

“how was work?” she said it into the small space between her and her father, and, though she was quiet, her voice was loud in the near-silent house.

“amazing.” he whispered back sarcastically, making her smile.

“well, have you had dinner?”

“’ve ya?” he countered, and she shook her head, using his knee to lever herself up, heading to the kitchen. he quirked an eyebrow as his eyes followed her steps, “what’re ya doing?” she poked her head back into the hall between the living room and kitchen.

“making something to eat?” he had assumed that she was going to make a sandwich, so, when he heard her turn on the stove, he looked in her direction, confused. finally, he pushed himself up, heading towards her to see what she was doing.

she’d pulled out a few things as he leaned against the doorway, watching her.

“what’re ya making?”

sarah mumbles the name of the dish, mentioning how their neighbor had been polite enough to teach her the recipe, as she continues to move around the kitchen, meticulously following the steps that she remembered.

“well, d’ya want any help?” sarah shakes her head.

“you’ll throw me off,” she chided, making joel laugh.

over the next couple weeks, joel had had the pleasure of eating more home-grown food as opposed to the takout he’d practically been thriving off for the previous months, all at the hand of his daughter.

though he felt worried she’d overexert herself, he found her to be excitable as opposed to annoyed about the prospect, and he attempted to make it up to her by releasing her from a few of her other chores.

on one colder october evening, nicky comes back home a little earlier than usual, getting comfortable on the couch, to the shock of her sister.

“hey, nick? how was school?” nicky shrugged, fiddling with the remote, as she gestured for her sister to join her.

“it’s fine. i’ve got a math test next thursday.” her sister went to join her, letting nicky rest her head on her thigh, her eyes trained to the t.v.

“need any help with it?” nicky shook her head, the movement dragging over her sister’s thigh.

“actually, i wanted to ask: bea’s having a birthday sleepover at her place this friday. can i go?” suddenly, the affection clicked in her sister’s head. she’d done the same thing when asking their parents to go meet her friends, hoping the added sweetness would convince them to let her. of course, the same treatment wasn’t necessary with her, but it definitely didn’t hurt.

“sure, nick. where does she live?”

“closer to the city. her mom said she’d pick us up after school and take us there.”

“’lright, hun. get your bag set up well, okay?” nicky smiled at the confirmation, before sinking further into her sister and enjoying the movie she’d clicked on.

she has a meeting that afternoon, and it was her first face-to-face one since settling in austin. the company she worked for really pushed a work-from-home agenda, but, every quarter, they’d indulge in a conference in order to maintain good professional connections and ensure everything was running smoothly.

she was just slightly worried she’d be late, as she attempted to smooth down her blouse and skirt, struggling just slightly with the front of her heels not allowing perfect breathing room for her toes. she grabbed her purse as she stuffed an out-of-place clump of hair back into place. the light curls framing her face did a lot to add to the professional nature of her look, but one thing that would definitely not contribute to a professional first impression would be arriving late. she looks at the watch on her wrist as she exits her house, wincing as she tried to remember the direction towards the stop from where she’d have to catch her bus into the city.

from just a few meters away, joel’s placing his tools into the back of his truck, getting ready to head into the city for a job he and his brother had been called in on. he glances up when he hears the faint clack of heels on the pavement, and he nearly does a double take when he sees her.

sure, she’d been nice and dressed-up for that neighborhood barbecue, but nothing quite like this. he averted his gaze in a moment, remembering what tommy had told him the other day, but, when he sneaks another peek at her, he notices her confused impression.

“’re ya alright?” against his better judgment, he starts bridging the gap between them, calling her name, making her whip her head towards him.

she’s pretty sure she hasn’t spoken to him in, like, a month, so she can’t really look at his still-intense gaze, instead fidgeting with the strap of her purse.

“hmm? yeah, ‘ve just got this meeting to get to - honestly i’m running a bit late-” she can feel herself beginning to nervously ramble, so she cuts herself off.

“which direction are you heading in?” she finally looks up at him, shaking her head.

“into the city? i’m actually looking for the bus stop.” he gestures to his car.

“c’mon, i’ll give you a ride.” her mouth hangs open for a moment, shocked by the offer, before she shakes her head.

“no - joel, you don’t have to do that-”

“the buses come every 30 minutes, besides, i’m heading to the city anyways.” conflicted, she goes to disagree again, but decides not to. she allows him to accompany her to his pickup, and thanks him when he helps her into the passenger seat.

as he starts up the vehicle, she adjusts a little in her seat, suddenly feeling warm in the knowledge of her proximity with her neighbor.

“thanks, again, joel.” she mumbles, as he pulls out of his driveway.

“don’t worry about it, sweetheart.” she’s a little shocked by the reuse of the nickname, but doesn’t hate the feeling it reignites in her. joel, on the other hand, cringes at the slip of his tongue, reminding himself that this interaction was strictly in order to help his neighbor, and not the otherwise beautiful woman in his front seat, whose skirt he was trying very hard not to focus on, as he kept his eyes religiously on the road in front of him, “what’re ya all dressed up for?” he sniffs, an attempt at small talk as the danger of silence threatens to envelop the distinctly small space between them.

“oh - um, yeah. i’ve got this conference for work, and - well, have to look professional, y’know.” he hums in agreement, but his brow quirks.

“i thought ya work from home?” she glances over at him, confused as to how he’d known. though many things happened during that one evening together, she didn’t remember telling him that.

“yeah, i - the company has 4 conferences annually, to make sure everyone still remembers everyone, i guess.” his lips don the hint of a smile at the quasi-joke, “how’d - how did you know?” joel’s eyes trace over her expression for a half-moment, before returning to the road.

“i - sarah’s mentioned it.”

“oh, of course.” that silence creeps up on them once more, and it makes her swallow dryly, “um, nicky was telling me about this sleepover she’s got in the city,” she continues, “i assume sarah’s going, too?” joel nods, running a hand through his hair.

“yup - girl’s excited too. was shocked, she’s not the type to go to these things.” she smiles at the comment.

“nicky’s a bad influence.” she makes a joke, and he finally smiles, putting her at substantial ease.

“eh - ya make up for it.” he makes the comment lowly, and she wonders if she’s supposed to have heard it.

her breath stills, as she glances at his unemotive expression, as she wonders what the hell he means.

“wh - what?” joel’s eyes widen just slightly as he realizes the implication of his words.

“you’re - y’re a good influence, s’all i’m saying. with ‘er cookin’ now n’all.” his southern accent comes out heavily in his lightly flustered state, and she suppresses her laugh so as to not embarrass him further.

“right. she’s cooking for you too, now?” he nods.

“almost ev’ry night. damn good food, too.” she laughs at his aggressive praise for his daughter.

“i’m assuming nothing for friday, then?” he sighs, not really having thought about that.

“yeah, wonder how i’ll manage.”

her friday had started with a 4 hour call from 8 in the morning, fleshing out the plans for the upcoming quarter discussed briefly during her face-to-face conference.

after joel had dropped her off, he’d offered to pick her up as well, but she’d been insistent he not worry about it, citing he’d done more than enough for her already, and she’d instead taken a ride home with a coworker who, shockingly enough, lived in the same area as her.

she’d helped nicky set up her bag during the opening hour of her call, fixing her a hearty breakfast, and having over some money in the event of an emergency. she smiled at her young sister’s bubbly attitude over the prospect of her sleepover than night and, later, when she saw nicky meet up with sarah, she saw that same emotion plastered over the other young girl’s face.

her next few hours consisted of another two calls, a presentation for a meeting next week that she had to make, and maybe a grand total of a fuck ton of emails.

she had just the slightest hint of a moment of reprieve in the afternoon, so she spent a moment taking a breath of fresh air, stepping outside onto her porch. she glances to her right, almost instinctively, and she feels a distinct lack of surprise that his pickup wasn’t in the driveway. he really was out of the house a lot.

she remembered what he’d jokingly mumbled in his car when she’d mentioned sarah wouldn’t be home tonight: how would he manage? of course, she was sure he’d be just fine, but that didn’t stop her from feeling sympathetic at the, likely tired, man’s plight for what would likely just be leftovers of monotonous take-out.

knowing this, and knowing that she did technically owe him for the ride he’d given her, that night, she made a little extra for dinner, packing it up as she finished cleaning the kitchen before her own meal. she can see his car in his driveway now, just a little earlier than the long nights sarah would mention her father pull, and, with a steely resolve, she dons a sweater to combat the uncharacteristically cold night air.

after she’d knocked on the door, and was waiting for joel to answer, she wondered if this was a stupid idea. did it come as desperate? intrusive? assumptive? it wasn’t like they just did this, hell, they spoke for the first time in months just a few days ago. and since, it’d been realistically radio silent.

she tries to quell her racing mind. she was just being a friendly neighbor. it wasn’t like she was trying to get in his pants - again - right?

she’s snapped from her thoughts when he opens the door, donning just a solid grey shirt and sweatpants. she spends a half moment just blinking at his chest, before shaking herself out of it, smiling as she adjusted to look at him.

“hey - hey, joel. i never properly thanked you for the drive and i know sarah’s out so -” instead of fully explaining her presence, she opts instead to brandish the tupperware box with his assumed dinner, placing it into his slightly confused hands.

“i, you - ya didn’t have to do that.” his voice is a little hoarse, as if he hadn’t spoken in a few hours, and she looks away from him, suddenly embarrassed.

“i - i know, i just thought i’d -” she trails off, and he shakes his head.

“no - no, i really ‘preciate it. here, come in.” her eyes widened at his offer, assuming this to be a simple drop-off.

“oh - um-” she hesitates, “right, thanks.” she slides past his frame as he closes the door behind her.

she wonders why he’d be willing to let her in after placing so much distance in between them. he wonders why he’s opening himself up to temptation after trying so hard to avoid her.

they both come to the same conclusion: he’s just being a friendly neighbor.

he goes to set the dinner table for the both of them, placing the box on the kitchen counter, but, seeing the documents he’d haphazardly scattered on it this morning, he gestures to the couch.

“oh, shit,” she peers in to see if everything’s alright, and the lightly flustered look on his face makes her shakily exhale - though quietly. when he turns to her, she tries to smile, “uh - make yerself comfortable, ‘lright?” she nods as she resists the urge to peel off her sweater in the warmer house, knowing she wasn’t exactly wearing much under it.

she can hear the tinkering of plates in the kitchen, and she lets her eyes drift over the minimal but homely living room, the added decoration of a couple of sarah’s trophies on the mantelpiece being a sweet touch.

when he walked in with two plates, he was quick to tell her to turn something on, if she wished. she obliges, taking the plate he’d set for her, flicking through the channels until she found something, realistically, not remotely interesting. a few minutes into it, they eat in near silence.

“god, this is good.” he mumbles, not even attempting to praise her - moreso in observation. she laughs at the comment, looking back at him, as he attempts to fix himself up and properly appreciate her.

“thanks, joel.” they’re silent for another moment.

“ya didn’t have to do this f’r me, sweetheart.” he mentions, and she swallows.

he’s getting too comfortable with that nickname.

“i wanted to.” when she glances at him, he’s got the ghost of a smile in his expression.

sporadic conversation graced their meal, but the majority of it carried in silence. unknown to the other, both spent a long time stealing glances at the other, appreciating the way that the low light of the room accentuated their features.

finally, when she rose to place her plate away, she swiped his own empty one before he could tell her to sit down and act like an actual guest, taking them both to the sink. he follows her, the movie quickly abandoned as he places the rest of the food into his fridge.

she’s turned on the faucet as his back is turned to her, and he turns back to see her beginning to wash the few dishes in the sink.

“no - wait-” he goes to stop her but she brandishes a soapy hand to ward him off, laughing at his immediate recoil, “ya can’t-” he attempts to dissuade her from the action once again, but she’s not having it.

“joel - you’ve had a long day. it’s just one thing, isn’t it?” a silence falls over him, as he mulls over her words.

he’d not mentioned a thing about how long his day was - or how truly exhausted he felt on his way home. she just knew, and went the extra step of trying to make it that bit better for him. it’d been the same with the food she’d brought over: he’d not asked for it once, yet she felt compelled to do it simply through her caring nature. he thinks about how much she seems to care, and how upset he would feel to lose that, regardless of the taboo that their relationship would entail.

and he thinks about how much he missed caring about how she felt.

so, when she turned around, wiping her hands on the cloth beside her, she was shocked to feel the gentle tug of her body towards the kitchen counter, as joel’s warm hands grip her now lightly cold wrists. she’s shocked by the gesture, but even more shocked when she feels his hand on her cheeks, pulling her lips into his. it’s a languid motion, soft, and satisfying, as she allows the brush of her soft lips to graze the coarseness of his own.

she pulls away for a moment, if for nothing more than to breathe, and joel exhales, shaking his head.

“i’m sorry, sweetheart, i shouldn’t have-” she cuts him off by tipping her head forward, hungry to feel his lips against hers again. his beard tickles her chin, but she can barely pay it any mind, enraptured by the warmth of his body. she reciprocates the movement of his hands, pulling at his neck to press up more closely against him, as she felt his own gently holding and squeezing her waist. the cold of her hands sends a shiver up his spine, but the sensation does nothing to rival the jolts he gets when he feels her tongue graze against his own.

“fuck, joel. what’re we doing?” she mumbles it into the air above him as his head ducks into her neck, his chapped lips ghosting over the skin of her throat.

“m’sorry, sweetheart, le’me make you feel good?” it’s a question, but it doesn’t exactly wait for an answer as his teeth begin nipping the supple flesh of her barely exposed chest.

“i’ll - god, joel-” her breath’s just a little more labored now, and she’s itching for the wandering hands on her waist to meander their way further south.

knowing himself, he knows that there’s little chance he’ll have the patience to take her all the way upstairs, so, in just a moment of reprieve, he opts instead for the couch, not detaching himself from her form as he guided her there.

“c’mere, baby,” his voice is nothing over a whisper, but the licks of soft baritone grace it, making her immediately oblige, allowing him to pull her onto his spread legs over the couch cushions, the movie behind them providing a quiet ambiance, doing little to disguise the sounds of her soft gasps, and his rough exhales, as he eases her sweater off, pulling her chest into his fervent lips.

she can’t help the buck of her hips as his teeth pull as the supple skin of her chest and breasts, and she can feel his smile against her when he feels the grind of her hips over his. he can sense her desperation pique as he continues, so, taking hold of her back, he’s quick to set her down against the couch.

she’s a little shocked by the action, rising up on her elbows to see him beginning to unbutton her jeans.

“take these off for me, sweetheart,” it’s not a question anymore, and she finds her hands working faster than her brain can, sliding the fabric off her thighs and calves in one swift motion. he helps her the rest of the way, doing little to hide his fixation on her anticipating expression. when he’d finally removed the offending clothing, he looked down at her, taking her ankles in his hands and placing them over his shoulders. he doesn’t break eye contact, allowing her ragged breathing to be the only discernible noise to his ears as he lowered down towards her thighs.

she can feel the tension in muscles dissipate - though not entirely - when his lips finally make contact with her inner thigh, pulling her up by her hips just a bit to place her in a more favorable position to him. he kisses up the soft flesh of both her thighs, doing a immensely annoying job of teasing her just right.

“joel - joel, please.” she’s not ashamed to beg after the third time his lips choose to press against the corner of her panties, before swiftly switching to her other thigh.

“hmm? whad’ya want me to do sweetheart? wanna le’me taste this pretty pussy?” his casual tone is overshadowed by the nature of his words, and she feels her stomach churn at the direct statement. she can’t do much but nod, light ‘please, please - please!’s tumbling off her lips. it’s enough for him, though, finally obliging her as he pulls the fabric of her underwear to the side, letting a slight chill graze her exposed cunt, causing her to shiver.

when she feels his tongue lightly trace a circle over her clit, the tension of her muscles crash, making her let out a long, low, shaky exhale. it’s not a moment of reprieve, though, as his assault quickens, his tongue meandering over her slit with a passion - renewing that tension, though now in her core.

his pace switches between quick and languid at a moment’s notice, causing her body to be unable to release the tension in time, but to rather hold onto it for longer, staving off her orgasm with precision as his thumb pulls lightly at the apex of her cunt, putting pressure on - but not quite on - her clit as his tongue experimentally dipped in and around her dripping entrance.

he begins to speed up again, and it manifests in moans and whimpers spilling from her lips as she attempts to place a hand over her loud mouth, though, when he slows down for the umpteenth time, he heard a garbled sound fall from her instead.

“fuck - joel, please, don’t fucking tease!” her frustration had gotten the better of her, and it only increased when she felt him smile against her cunt.

“tell me what ya want, baby.” she swallows roughly, her thighs tensing just slightly against his head, before she lets out a shaky breath.

“please - please, let me cum.” for a moment, he doesn’t move, and she wants to scream at his lack of action, but that’s until she feels his clloused fingers against her thigh.

his mouth reattaches to her cunt, alternating between short, quick licks and sucking, as he eases two of his fingers into her, with little resistance. the added sensation against her walls makes her toes curl, her moans only growing louder.

her orgasm, already impending, suddenly feels as if it’s been increased tenfold by the drag of his fingers against a specific soft spot inside her, the movement of them in and out of her allowing them a way to find that spot each time. that, accompanied with his mouth’s renewed focus on her clit, makes her want to scream, and she does, as the tightened sensation in her stomach snaps, the tension building to her orgasm releasing with an aggressive sensitivity.

her moans are broken as he helps her through the feeling, continuing to slowly pump his fingers inside her, only stopping for a moment when he felt her thighs squeeze her with the might of a guinness strongman.

as she comes down from the sensation, she attempts to place her hands over her warm face, but he doesn’t let her, taking them off her to truly appreciate her flushed expression.

“good - good, really, really good-” she’s babbling quietly in an attempt to praise his effort, and it makes him laugh, rising up so that he can place a chaste kiss to her lips. she doesn’t allow it to be quick, though, allowing her mouth to indulge in the taste of herself, as opposed to continuing to mindlessly mumble. he groans at the action, not expecting her to be into it. pulling back to let her catch her breath, his lips flit over her neck, feeling her rapid heartbeat under the thin layer of skin, “joel, please - i-” she’s saying something, and it’s causing him to come back up to look at her.

though he can’t interpret it initially, when he feels the lazily roll of her hips against his again, he realizes what he wants, laughing lightly.

his laugh does little to quell her desire - instead, spurring it on, as her hands snake down his torso and towards the elastic of his sweatpants. he lets her hands work them down, pulling out his cock over the waistband of them, and gritting his teeth as her soft hand gently grips him.

“slow - fuck, slow down, there, baby-” she shakes her head adamantly.

“joel, fuck - i need you, now. right now.” she does little to disguise her thoughts, the small space between his cock and his cunt too much for her to think straight.

“’lright, sweetheart, ‘lrigt” he pulls his pants the rest of the way down, not removing her still, but exploratory hand, as, on her palm, rested his cock, her fingers grazing his inner thighs and balls. he props her up again, pulling her legs over his shoulders. though knowing she was definitely wet enough to accommodate him, it doesn’t stop her from spitting into her fingers, coating the tip of him in the makeshift lubricant, before adjusting so that he rested against her.

he tapped the tip of her cock over her clit, if for no reason other than to hear her squeak just one more time, before dragging himself down, and pushing in. she fights her urge to close her eyes at the sensation, wanting to really see him, but the feeling of it was almost too much, and she bit down on her tongue to keep quiet.

“don’t hide y’r sounds fro’me, sweetheart, let’t out, babygirl, let it out.” his accent’s thick in her ear as his hips meet her ass, and the soft order makes her mouth fall open, a low, quiet moan befalling her as she adjusted to the size of him. he practically filled every crevice inside her, the warmth of him enough to make her overheat as she tried not to focus on the increasingly sensitive feeling of his cock just lightly grazing against that one spot inside her.

“joel - move, god, i need you to move.” he doesn’t hesitate, pulling out slowly, the drag of his cock making her breath ragged. then, when he pushes back in, it’s just a bit harsher, owing to her squeaking.

“feel good, baby?” he mumbles it right into her ear as he thrusts in and out of her, his pace teetering between slow and aggressive, as if he were holding back.

“so - so good, joel, fuck, you make me feel so - good-!” she’s cut off when he readjusts and begins hitting another angle inside her, amplifying the feel of him significantly.

“that’s the spot, isn’t it, sweetheart? ya gonna be a good girl and scream for me?” he doesn’t even have to ask her, as her moans become unabashedly loud at the intensity of his new thrusts. the spur him to move just that bit faster, owing to her hands wildly grasping at his arms in an attempt to ground herself against the overwhelming sensation.

it doesn’t take long for that reignited tension in her core to beg for release.

“fuck, joel - i’m gonna cum, can i cum? please let me cum, please?” she’s begging him to keep going just like he is, and the honeyed pleas sound like the sweet music to his ear.

“that’s right, sweetheart, go ahead - cum all over me.” the approval pushes her over the edge, her legs shaking violently as her fingers dig into the muscle of his forearms. he want to slow down so as to not overstimulate her, but the feel of her pulsing walls wills him over the edge as well, pushing into her just a few more times, “whered’ya want me, baby?” he’s not sure if she’s able to answer him, but the lazy, gesturing hands towards her torso seem indication enough, as he pulls out of her, stroking himself to completion and spilling over the heaving skin of chest.

for a minute or two, they both catch their breath, before she feels him detach from her. she can hear his light footsteps into another room, and then the sound of a tap, before he reemerges with a damp towel. she’s sure she raises her hand to take it off him, but he ignores it, instead running the damp cloth over her himself. first, he cleans his own mess off of her chest, before lightly pressing at the flesh of her thighs and cunt, trying very hard not to stimulate her farther. the gentleness of his actions seems very joel miller-esque, she thinks, but not exactly akin to the man he’d been for the past few months.

she takes the towel when he’s done, returning the favor, before she speaks.

“didn’t think we’d do this again.” he winces at the implication of her words, stilling her movements as he pulls her cheeks to look up at him.

“i - i know, and i’m real sorry, sweetheart. ya know that, right?” she cups the hand against her face, smiling softly.

“of course i do. you think you’ll tell me why?” she wasn’t mad - just curious.

“i -” he trails off, before shaking his head, a humorless laugh escaping his lips, “why’d you think, baby? m’too old f’r ya.”

for a moment, she’s not sure she heard him right.

“what?”

“c’mon. you’re this gorgeous young woman - new to the neighborhood and everything. shouldn’t end up with someone like me. people’d talk.” she adjusts so that she’s closer to eye-level with him, taking both his hands.

“i don’t give a shit what other people say, joel - god, all anyone should care about is what i actually want.”

“but-” he goes to disagree, but she cuts him off with a soft kiss to his lips.

“i want you, joel miller. you’re the only person i want - i don’t give a shit about if you’re a little older, or my neighbor - anything like that.” he finally raises his eyes from the floor to look at her. the earnest expression on his face makes his resolve crumble, his contemplative expression morphing into a small smile.

“ya want to spend your nights me, then?” she rolls her eyes.

“and my mornings, afternoons and evenings.” the admission of them as so much more than just the fuck-buddy status that they currently have makes him grip her just a little tighter - a show of his affection, “really, our only problem is telling the girls.”

joel thinks about that upcoming challenge, wincing.

“that’s f’r t’morrow. tonight’s about you, sweetheart.”

[tremendum]

personal lies

[not my gif. title from the song of the same name, by Djo.] pairing: dbf!joel miller x fem!reader (afab, use of she/her)     rating: explicit. (18+. mdni.)       word count: 5.6k  requested: Hi! Your work is so insane and incredible! I've literally been thinking about Joel Miller nonstop and was wondering if you'd write a fic where reader is flirty but also has a way of getting herself into clumsy situations- like she bends over to grab something at a party and Joel turns around at the same time and he's pressed right against reader's ass- and these situations keep happening and she just bullies him about him being a pervert until he finally does something about it ;) Keep up the incredible writing!! summary: "when you were young, you'd always thought Joel was handsome - but he was just your dad's friend, someone who would make you blush strictly because he was teasing you. now, though - he makes your cheeks flush for a whole new plethora of reasons." warnings: healthy age gap (reader is around 23, Joel is like 47), DBF!Joel, Mean!Joel, brat tamer!Joel, brat!reader, dom!Joel, semi-public sex, light voyeurism, choking, light dacryphilia, inappropriate use of household appliances, use of word slut, its dirty, slight allusions to exhibitionism, brief choking, so much dirty talk (its joel), so much degradation, reader calls Joel a pervert, teasing, slight dumbification, brief spitting, rough sex, unprotected PiV, cum play, spanking. think that's it!

notes: okay once again, another mean!Joel for the soul! its a problem! im happy for this request bc it helped so much with my writer's block. pls pls keep sending requests i love them all u guys are amazing.

[other Joel fics: i’ve got headaches and bad luck but they couldn’t touch you fever landmines  Mr. Miller Series ]

★  

the bathroom window fogs much quicker than it used to. 

it's the first thing you've realized since returning back to your childhood home - the lack of use in your old shower, now empty of all the half-used floral shampoos and body scrubs of your youth. 

you suppose it makes sense, with your father living on his own now that you're five years out of the house - he has no real need to shower in the bathroom you'd once used as your own. in fact, as you examine under the cabinets and the medicine cupboard, it seems as though he's converted it into a storage room for cleaning supplies and the odd bundle of cotton swabs. 

it makes you grin as you massage lotion into your legs, staring at your foggy reflection. 

your father's muffled voice from downstairs shouts something and, in lieu of a response, you towel off and wrap it around yourself, cursing your father for not restocking towels that were large enough to cover yourself in a modest way to your trek back to your room; not that it much matters, your father's friends won't be arriving for another hour and a half, at the least. 

you're struck with something from your youth when you open the door, though -

and it grunts in response. 

the breath leaves your throat as your eyes drag over the expanse of chest which lies just in front of the bathroom, with a hand extended almost as if he were about to open the door - muscular arms and a familiar wristwatch - certainly not your father's. 

you gape up at Joel Miller, who stares, wide-eyed, back down at your form.

your face floods with an immense amount of heat; Joel Miller, your father's closest friend.

you haven't seen him since last summer - and before then it was even more scarce. between college out of state and splitting summers with your father and mother, before your visit home last summer, you don't think you'd seen him since you left for university. 

he's changed, but not that much - tan, with hair that curls at the nape of his neck, a nicely fit t-shirt that brings out the honey of his eyes. now, though, he's got slight smile lines on his face that compliment his striking, burly features and a peppering of gray through his hair; your mouth runs dry as you take in the large frame of thick shoulders and contoured biceps. christ. 

when you were a teen, you'd always thought Joel was handsome - he was kind, funny, and would always buy you iced tea when he ran for some beers for him and your father after a day working around the house or in the yard. but he was just your dad's friend, someone who made you blush strictly because he was teasing you. 

now, though - ever since last summer when you'd caught his eyes lingering on your figure a few too many times, he makes your cheeks flush for a whole new plethora of reasons. it was a thrilling game you came to know last summer - the way he’d flush and clench his jaw after every quip, each slight tease of phrase, wink, of riding up of your skirt when he walked by.

it makes your stomach flip still - and the most delicious part of it all is the smoldering glares he'd give you when you pushed him too far; last summer, you'd discovered the only good thing about your clumsy, teasing nature: Joel's reactions. 

he’s everything the gentleman, always has been - even when you pushed his buttons, flustered him, he never lost his cool. only ever let his eyes wander and speak for themselves.

so when you open the door directly into him, you’re shocked to see him standing there, eyes wide.

his appearance throws you off, as there was nobody besides your father in the house when you'd stepped into the shower minutes before. tilting your head, you regain your footing quickly, heart picking up as you see his eyes rake over the length of your legs, exposed from the tiny pink towel you wear.

it’s been far too long you think, noting the change in his face when he recognizes you.

his eyes scour over every curve of your body, as if seeing you for the first time- you can’t hide your smirk. "can I help you with something, Joel?"  

his eyes avert just as quick as they found you, staring at something extremely interesting just above the crown of your head. "was lookin' for some rags. your father spilled downstairs." he shifts on his feet, looking into the steamy bathroom behind your frame, "didn't realize there was anybody home..." 

you hum, lifting a brow, "good thing I came out when I did," you send him a sly grin, "or else you'd have gotten a show." you tease, shooting him a gentle wink.

his eyes narrow slightly, tilting his head. he mutters your name lowly and it strikes you that you haven’t seen him in over a year and here you are, staring up at him, in a minuscule towel.

“watch it. didn’t know y’were in there.” he utters, sounding defensive as he crosses his arms over his broad chest.

the rumble of your name as it leaves his lips is insatiable; it bathes you in heat as his eyes flicker down towards your chest and back up to your eyes and you smirk, a light tut leaving your mouth.

"sure you didn’t, Joel.”

he cocks a brow at your implications, his head tilting slightly, but he says nothing. your father yells something about warped wood downstairs and the moment snaps, Joel clearing his throat and you looking away.

“I'm onto you, perv." you smirk, winking once again. you don't give yourself the chance to see his reaction as you brush past him, a flick of your wet hair trailing over the green cotton of the shirt that hugs his biceps. you don't hear him move even as you slide past your door and shut it. 

it’s not until you’re inside your room that you hear the bathroom door slam so hard it reverberates through your walls. you fight your racing heartbeat and dull throb of arousal, pressing your fingers against your hot cheeks. 

"honey?" your dad calls as you leave your room.

“Joel's here. come say hi and help us set up."

your heart skips, butterflies erupting in your stomach as you round the stairs, where the two men stand at the bottom. feigning surprise, you start down the steps towards them. "hi, Mr. Miller." you say pleasantly, "when did you get here?" 

Joel's eyes flash with something as he watches you, tilting his head as if trying to decipher what you're playing at - as if he didn’t see you in a towel thirty minutes ago.

"little bit ago." he responds, shifting on his feet and watching you with crossed arms. “when did you get here?” he counters, nodding to your suitcase, which sits still at the top of your stairs.

your dad laughs at your words, though, breaking the tension he didn't even feel before you can answer Joel’s question. "-Mr. Miller? since when did you have any manners?" your dad snorts, "been calling him Joel as long as I have."   you roll your eyes playfully at him, reaching the last step, still a few inches shorter than the man next to your dad. 

Joel’s eyebrows raise; you look away as you grin. “trying to be polite, I guess. it’s been a bit.” you shrug.

"guess they did teach ya something mature in college, huh?" you dad smirks, nudging your arm. you flush and shrug just as Joel swallows, "haven't seen you in a while, sweetheart." he nods, "how've you been?" 

you smile, "been really good, Joel. better now that I get to see my favorite old man." you tease, stepping between the two men, eyes trailing over Joel's gaze even as you walk away. despite your dad's grunt of offense at your joke, he still grins, "you look nice, honey." he says, patting your shoulder.

you smile, not breaking eye contact with Joel as you hum, "thanks, I just showered."  

the crowd is thicker than you expected.

you didn’t know your father even had this many friends.

besides your own friends who you’d invited to come catch up, you spent the afternoon chatting with nearly every person in the old neighborhood you’d ever met.

if you thought being home from school while you were a student was bad, being freshly graduated at a backyard barbeque full of your dad's friends was much, much worse. 

flocks of couples, neighbors, and family friends gravitate towards you in waves, asking about your achievements and new job and oh, what's it like in the big city? 

you're barely able to break away for a minute to stalk over to the side of your house, nestled up in the grass of your backyard, to grab refreshments - sure, you've already had a few beers and you're not particularly thirsty, but Joel's leaning up against the side of the house and you're drawn with a heat in your abdomen towards him.

a small group of men talk just next to the coolers, engrossed in some conversation that holds no interest to you; but he's there, and something inside you screams for his attention. 

you barely brush his back to excuse yourself past the bodies, reaching down into the cooler to fish out something palatable.

but your blood runs just as cold as the ice in your hand when a sudden pressure against your ass sends a shiver of desire through you. 

you instinctively gasp. the pressure of someone’s hips pressing firmly but briefly against your ass, by accident, startles you as you stand up, a pulsing desire spreading through you instantly once you see Joel, face in shock, behind you.

you swallow; he must have turned after thinking someone’d tried to get his attention, just as you’d bent over. your face heats up.

you're met with eyes that hold awkward shock and a small dark flame that flickers slowly as your shame suddenly melts into a smirk, lunging at the perfect opportunity to sink your claws into him. 

"s-sorry, didn't see you there." he stutters slightly. heat pools in your stomach at the flush on his cheeks, the white ring around his knuckles spreading where he grips the neck of his beer bottle too tight. 

grinning, you shrug. "it's okay, Joel. I'm sure it was an accident. you seem to be prone to them." you say sweetly, voice sounding almost simpering as you smile.

from the look he gives you, it's clear he can see right through your words. "were you grabbing a beer?" you ask, watching his jaw clench. 

"no, I was-" but he stops himself at the teasing raise of your brows, shaking his head as he tries to save himself from your teasing. "sure. yeah." 

but just like that, he's fallen into your trap, and you smile, “just watch where you’re standing this time, yeah?” you ask. and within a split second, you're bending over again right before him, falsely digging through ice to grab a bottle that you know he likes. you shift slightly, leaning your weight on one leg as to pop your hip slightly before straightening up and handing the bottle to him with a smirk.

when you whirl back around, his eyes are up towards the sky, jaw clenched tightly with strain as if silently praying to god; though you know Joel Miller has not once stepped foot into a church in his whole life. he clears his throat tersely, eyes meeting yours again as he grabs the bottle from you. "thanks," he mutters. 

"you might want to finish that one first." you say with a grin, nodding towards his half-full beer bottle opened in his hands. he looks riled as he sends you a harsh look that only makes you smirk more, shrugging as you saunter off. 

as much as you try, you can’t get the feeling of Joel pressed against you out of your mind.

and, with a shivering glance across the patio, you can tell he can’t either; while fully engrossed in a conversation with a woman close to his age, you lock eyes with Joel for a full five seconds before you break away. his gaze is heavy and intent - it follows you, watches you interact with people from the town and your friends from high school.

despite the scorching stares he sends you from across the yard, you keep your distance from Joel, too. you're engrossed catching up with a few friends from high school on the patio when your dad pulls you aside, asking you to help out bringing the food onto the patio. 

bowls of chips, salads, roasted vegetables, condiments, and several different variations of sweets are brought out and spread across the folded tables outside. the smell of ribs and pulled pork from your father's smoker fills the air while you fill a tub full of water for the kids on the law to bob for apples in, watching from the serenity of your kitchen. 

the breeze floats through the open window as you stare out, the scene calm as you let your thoughts linger. out near the yard, a woman leans down to pick up a discarded paper plate and the man beside her places his hand on her hip; a gentle squeeze that has your eyes glued to the motion. unable to help it, your mind wanders.

Joel's hands are large; they're rough with callouses from work and the skin gets cracked during the winter, but they're warm. you start to wonder if he's got a woman to touch like that - sure, you remember a few women who'd hung out around your dad and him when you were younger, once Sarah was old enough. but there'd never, to your knowledge, been a serious girlfriend.

you watch with desire as the man taps the woman's hip, fingers close to her ass, as she straightens, and it causes you to avert your eyes. your cheeks heat as you imagine the way it'd feel if you were out there - if the man's hand was Joel's, if he were to grab you in the middle of all these people, shove you down onto your knees-

you clear your throat, eyes snapping down to the sink where the water was overflowing from the bin with a gentle bubbling noise.

you groan to yourself in embarrassment. you need to get a fucking grip - no, you need to get laid. 

the tub is filled a little too high; it's unsteady as you lift it up, hoisting it above your hips to hold against yourself as you turn around. but there's a figure behind you that makes you jump in shock, jolting the tub until it spills over yourself. you're hit with a shocking rush of cold as the water tips and drenches you; you let out a sharp yelp as one hand flies to your chest. "christ!" you snap, eyes landing on the perpetrator - 

"Joel!" you snap, "you scared me."

"jesus," he mutters, moving towards you, grabbing the bin from you and placing it down on the counter, "I wasn't even close t'you, sweetheart. I was walkin' into the garage." 

you swallow, taking a breath to calm your tight nerves. "I was zoned out, I guess-" you curse your bumbling hands, a light breeze catching over your wet skin and sending a shiver through you. just your luck.

you sigh, tilting your head, "what are you doing, slinking around here?" you raise a brow as you accuse him. he rolls his eyes, "ain't slinking anywhere. was goin' to find apples. your dad is adamant about those kids on the lawn. afraid they're gonna tear up his landscaping." 

you sigh, shaking your head, "you made me spill." you pout dumbly, heart still pounding as you become increasingly aware of how wet your dress is- his eyes narrow, "'s not my fault you're always gettin' yourself into trouble." he mutters, shrugging as he looks down at your chest, the fabric slowly melding itself against your hot skin as the water spreads. 

"says you." you retort, shaking your head. his eyes catch yours after you mutter it; a quick, intense glance that sends a strike of heat through you. a warning look. 

but as always, he doesn't linger on your teasing, instead clearing his throat and moving on. it drives you mad as he hums. "at least it's water." he tries, "clean you right up." he hands you a dish towel, which you take with a quirked brow. desire burns between your legs.

"I already showered today," your voice is seductive, floating through the tense silence of the room as your eyes meet the side of his face. "as I'm sure you haven't forgot." you tease.

his hands freeze from where they were, wiping some of the water from the counter with a towel. he turns slowly to look at you, face dark. the air suddenly feels thick. "what's that supposed to mean?" his voice is low, brows drawn as he stares down at you - jaw clenched, chest heaving. his eyes dare you to say it, to let him take a bite. 

you hum, "don't act coy now, Mr. Miller." you tease, watching his eyes darken with your words. "I see the way you watch me. don't act like you aren't thinking about me." you add boldly, heart hammering - if, somehow, you've made it all up in your delusional head, you're utterly fucked. 

but his jaw ticks and his inhale is sharp, a flicker of his eyes down to your bra as it peeks through the wet material gives him away. it lights a flame within you that nothing else ever has. 

"creeping around upstairs while I'm showering. you're trying to tell me you weren't about to slide in, take a peek?" you tilt your head to stare up at him through lidded eyes, kicking the teasing up the highest you've ever done. 

you push onto your tip toes, your dripping chest mere inches from his as the barbeque continues feet away, outside. "you want to see it, don't you? feel me against you, like you did out there? I'm really warm." you mutter, drinking in his silence as he heaves his chest against yours. “and so tight.” you whisper, bold courage seeping through you as your eyes fall to the straining tent in his pants.

a rush of pride tickles you when he doesn't stop you, doesn't tell you off - so you continue, legs jelly with arousal. "I'm way too young for you, but you just can't stop yourself, can you?" you whisper into his ear, "you're so perverted, Joel." 

you're throbbing with heat when you pull back slightly to drink in his red cheeks, his piercing stare that nearly kills you. his glare is molten, sharp as his gaze flickers from you then out to the party, returning with a burning malice. "go change. now." is all he says.

"are you distracted, Joel?" you tease, smirking up at him. “or just too scared?”

“shut up.” he orders, the malice behind it barely surviving his bark as his eyes dip quickly to your chest and back.

you smirk, “you can’t keep your eyes away from me. you’re a sick man, Joel.” you mutter, letting your hand drag down the neckline of your dress, exposing your breasts through your wet fabric. he nearly growls, rough hand flying to your bare arm, tugging you close to him. "take it off." he hisses.

you blink up at him, shivering from the hungry, dark eyes that seem to tear you apart inch by inch, as you breathe out a defiant, "you're not my dad." 

he chuckles at that, an exhale leaving his lips. "you're damn right 'm not. and you're not a fuckin' child. go change." 

you settle on a darker sundress this time, to avoid another wardrobe malfunction.

your heart hammers just as loud in your throat as it did minutes earlier in the kitchen as you stare out your bedroom window, searching for one figure in the crowd of guests. Joel's nowhere in sight, yet the kids are all huddled around a tub of water with bright red apples bobbing up and down. 

with a sharp sigh, you gather your undergarments and dress to bring down to the washer, flicking off your light. 

the laundry room smells fresh - a breath of clean air after the suffocating tenseness of the kitchen. the thought of Joel's face makes your cunt flutter slightly; that dark, angry stare - the rouge of his cheeks at your words. where doubt should creep in, nothing but pride fills your mind, knowing you can rile up the man just as easy as riding a bike. 

you've just started the wash cycle, moving to stand up when the door slams shut, making you jump once again to be met with Joel's large frame. 

you raise your brows, masking your shock and nerves with a grin, "back for more, creep? too late, I already put my panties in the wash-" 

but he crowds into you so quick that your mouth snaps shut; your back hits the edge of the washer as you stare up at him, shocked. "'m tired of your shit," he sneers, eyes angry, "prancin' around, wearing next to nothin' and bendin' over for everyone to see." your stomach flutters.

he sneers his next words. "you really that clumsy, or are you just too shy to admit how bad your pussy's aching for your daddy's best friend?" 

your jaw nearly drops from such bluntness coming from Joel's lips. you've rarely even heard him cuss - only during football games and the one time he burnt his hand on the grill after you'd leaned over and given him a perfect view down your shirt. 

 "Joel-" you start, a rush of arousal flooding the seat of your panties as you're pushed backwards. he leans into your space, dipping his head until he's in your ear. "who's the real creep, huh?" he mutters, warm breath scattering chills over your neck, "you’re sick, baby. goin' after men almost twice your age." he tuts, sliding his thick jeans between the soft skin of your thighs. “you got no idea what a man like me could do t’ya.” you gasp sharply, hands gripping his thick shoulders and he pushes you back further, your spine thrumming with the rumble of the washing machine.

“bet you think you can show me, don’t you?” you challenge, raising a brow.

"tired of your bullshit, sweetheart." he shakes his head, leaning back. "how am I gonna get you to shut up?" he asks mockingly. you swallow, canting your hips slightly as a prickle of desire rolls over you. "bet you'd love to turn this into a lesson, wouldn't you Joel?" you tease back, but he moves his leg up slightly, the rough material brushing against your heat. jolts of pleasure erupt from the spot and you let out a short mewl. his hand rises to grip your jaw, firm but gentle. his skin is hot and large against your cheeks. 

"don't lie, sweetheart, you love it." he growls, "you love trippin' and spillin' shit just so I can come clean up your mess for you. 's that right? you just need my attention?" his thumb caresses over your cheek, jilting a brow as he stares down at you, "answer me." 

you swallow dryly, nodding pathetically, "yes." 

he tuts, condescending as he tilts his head. "where's all the teasing now, baby? you're always so talkative. did'ya realize I'm too much for you?" he taunts. 

you shake your head, eyes wide, "no!" you eject, flames of heat licking your cheeks as he smirks. you try to go back on yourself, play down your eagerness, "-no, you're not too much, I promise." 

he tilts his head the other way this time, eyes sharp. "so what is it, then? y'afraid of all the people out there? that your daddy's gonna come looking for ya and find us in here? see me touching you, like the pervert I am? because I'll leave right now 'f that's what you want." 

you shiver as another rush of arousal floods you, twitching your hips at his words, the low drawl of his voice. you grasp him tight by his biceps, holding yourself against him as you meet his hot stare, unable to voice your desires. your blood pumps with need. 

"oh." he hums, eyes narrowing as he pushes his thigh up against you roughly, eliciting a short moan from you. "or do you like that?" 

you swallow, eyes lowering to where you drag your hips over his leg, pathetically desperate. he chuckles and it reverberates in his chest under your palms. "anyone could walk in here, sweetheart. your dad could be on the other side." he whispers into your ear, coaxing a moan from you - he tuts, "-an the washer's not loud enough if y'gonna moan like that." 

you nod, staring into his eyes; they pierce you with their intensity. he's giving you an out, asking if this is what you really want, or if its just some juvenile grasp for attention. your mind has been made up since you found out Joel was coming today, though. 

"I'll be quiet for you, Joel." you whisper, nodding, "I can handle it." 

you can tell, he likes that; he presses to you fully, his hardening cock pressing against your side. you sharply inhale, the reality settling in as you drip with desire, aching for his touch. boldly, with a breath of fresh desire, you snake your hand down to palm him through his jeans - he's thick, straining against his jeans as his grip on your jaw tightens. 

"how long have you been this hard, Joel?" you tease, confidence sudden as you smirk, "bet you've been thinking of me since you tried to sneak into the shower earlier for a peep show." 

his hand slides down to grasp your throat as your sentence tapers out: a squeeze causes a rush of pleasure through you. "quit it with the fuckin' lyin'. you're already desperate enough." his breath is hot on your face. with a grin, you accentuate a squeeze on his bulge, coaxing a short grunt from him. "says you, old man?"

this pushes him to the edge. 

rough hands leave your hip and throat to flip your body over, pushing you until you're bent over the washing machine, its vibrations tremoring your whole body. "eager, are you?" you tease, gasping when one hand presses you from the base of your neck.

his voice is sharp in response, "tired of you, sweetheart. gonna fuck all the teasin' right out of you." 

your cunt flutters at his words, wiggling your hips until you press against his crotch, feeling the hard thickness of his clothed cock over your panties. "-and you'll probably love every second of it too.” you mutter against the cold white surface of the washer. 

a harsh swat on your ass makes you yelp slightly, the pleasure smearing arousal between your thighs, legs shaky with anticipation. you swallow heavily when your dress is shoved up over your hips, exposing your skimpy panties to Joel as his large hands splay over the flesh of your ass. 

his hands grip and squeeze your skin, teasing you, as slowly his fingers graze over the seat of your underwear, toying with the ruined, soaked fabric. "you're dripping," he taunts you, the stark words causing your eyes to widen, a short whimper leaving your lips. "eager, are you?" he parrots your words. 

you let out a shuddered moan, swallowing as a finger falls to rub feather-light circles over your throbbing, clothed clit. the sensation has you bucking back against his touch, but his own grip on you prevents your movement; a harsh grip on your neck, forcing you down against the vibrations of the machine.

"tell me what you want." Joel mutters, voice commanding. you resist the urge once again to roll your eyes as you grit your teeth; your own medicine tastes bitter as he feeds you spoonfuls. "come on, you've always loved to talk." he sneers, his voice taunting, as if recalling all the times you've teased him, secretly aching for him. "you had such good manners in front of your daddy earlier, didn't you? so where's that pretty please? say pretty please, Joel, please fuck me on my daddy’s washing machine." he adds, thumb pressing down slightly harder on your clit. a strangled noise escaped your throat, your eyes wrenching shut. “say you want me to use you.”

"fuck- pretty please- J-Joel, please use me-“ you whimper, giving up as he hums at your words. a squeeze on your throat.

“y’gonna knock it off with the desperate teasing?” he asks sharply, holding you towards his mouth. you swallow, trying to hide your grin at the wall and hoping Joel can’t see it.

“yes, Joel, just please, please fuck me.” you submit to his request, throbbing with desire.

you feel his chest as he leans over you, breath against your spine. "begging your dad's best friend to fuck you? you’re so dirty, baby. you should be ashamed." he tuts, kissing your spine in a feather-light touch as his other hand slides your panties to the side, your arousal already dripping down your legs. 

your cheeks flush as you nod wordlessly, wiggling your hips slightly, cunt aching for him. 

he doesn't make you wait any longer; his cock is thick and heavy as he pulls himself out of his jeans, running his shaft through your molten heat.

your gasp is strangled as his tip nudges your clit, a groan from his lips rumbling and low as you hold your breath in anticipation. he rocks his hips again and your legs soon tense up, cold against the washer as your hands grip the sides, "hurry, please." your voice is breathless and cracked as you ask it, exhausted and driven wild from his teasing. "need it so bad.“ you whimper breathlessly. 

he has the audacity to chuckle lightly, his thickness spreading your juices and notching just at your entrance before sliding past in tease. your nails scrape the metal as your eyes clench shut - he's so big; a flood of nerves rolls over you. 

"i know you do, sweetheart.” he mutters; you almost consider slapping him, but then you're sharply inhaling at the sudden sensation of his spit, dripping down onto your pulsing, aching heat. you can't help the moan at the feeling; there's a moment where Joel's hand caresses your cheek gently and you can't help but lean into his warm skin, keening at the touch, until it slides over your mouth and you realize he's muffling you.

and then he pushes forwards, breaching your tight, hot cunt. 

and you’re gasping. simultaneously, you suck in breaths at the sensation, his own groan so low it may be a growl. 

your brows pinch together at the tight fit; he's so big and you're tight with desire as he slowly inches himself inside, relishing in the agonizing pleasure of him nearly splitting you open. "Joel," you whimper, voice completely muffled by his tight hold on your mouth. 

he whispers hot against the shell of your ear, "you better be quiet." 

his voice sends a flood of arousal through you, coaxing his cock further into you, enveloping him into your warmth as his cock presses against the spongy part of you that has your back arching in a gasp. and then he's dragging himself slowly out of you, thrusting back in deep and slow. 

he lets out a shuttering breath into your collarbone as your nails dig into metal. you squirm at how deep he is; sweat lines your brow as your body is forced against the machine, barely able to accommodate his size. you let out a breathless, broken whine into his palm at the feeling, his length nearly splitting you, the sounds of your arousal slicking him and coating you both as he starts to thrust with a deep pace.

he holds you hard against the machine, ensuring you can't buck your hips, the other hand sliding to your neck, keeping just where he wants you at the angle that has both your eyes nearly rolling back. 

he growls as he starts to fuck into you hard and rough, the washer shaking with his thrusts. "take me, that's right." he grunts - the sentence sends your toes curling in pleasure. "fuck-" he grunts, "dirty slut, letting me fuck you right here- practically begging me all night-" 

the vibrations from the washing machine send tremors of pleasure through you and with wide eyes, you can feel your orgasm growing quickly. you can't help the gasps as Joel hits the spot in you that has tears brimming at the edge of your vision. 

"you close already, sweetheart?" he taunts, hand grabbing both your wrists to pin them against your back. you can't move as he pumps into you, the machine hitting the wall as the fire writhes in your abdomen. 

you nod, tears almost spilling in pleasure. the vibrations are bringing you so close to the edge as he hits the spongy spot inside you that nearly makes you scream; he chuckles darkly. "you need a little more, baby?" 

you nod, wailing gently against him as you try to move against him, toes leaving the ground as he fucks you into the machine. "you wanna cum, hm?" 

you nod furiously, yelping, "yes!" through his muffling. 

you feel a familiar warm feeling in your abdomen after a several deep thrusts and you moan out as he lifts your leg slightly up, hitting a new angle that nearly sends you over the edge. "fuck." he hisses.

his hands grip your wrists tight, "you know how t'touch your clit, don't you, baby?" he asks. you nod, looking towards the wall as you can't crane your neck further to see him. he doesn't let up on his thrusts, even as you glare at the wall, nodding with a whimper. 

"why don't you touch yourself, then?" he asks, teasing with a dark lilt in his voice that sends thrills through your body. you flutter and clench at his condescending tone, his hand pinning your wrists back as you struggle to move your hand to where you most need it. 

"c'mon, sweetheart, try harder. work for it." 

a tear falls onto the washing machine as he thrusts deep, hard. he hums low, leaning over and hitting a new angle, lips against your neck. "you gonna stop slutting yourself out? an’ stop callin' me a pervert when you throw yourself at me?" he asks, taunting. you groan, nodding enough that your neck hurts as you keen your back towards him, on a desperate edge of something brilliant. 

he hums, "'kay, baby. touch yourself. want you to cum on my cock." 

your hands are released and frantically your fingers find your sensitive clit, yelping as he presses his hand harder to your mouth. the feeling is blinding. 

your cunt flutters as you hit your high not two thrusts later, your whole body tense. you let out a long, loud whine of his name as you nearly short circuit. 

 “f-fucking tight-" he grunts, his own thrusts sloppy as he chases his own orgasm, already moving on from yours as you go limp with pleasure in his grasp. 

overstimulation sends your legs quivering as he grips you tighter, fucking into your throbbing heat. your cunt, still sensitive and contracting, drives Joel crazy - though you tense as you hear a familiar voice calling out Joel's name from the patio. 

your eyes widen, but Joel doesn't stop - not when your dad yells his name louder, as if he's entered the kitchen. 

and, to your horror, your dad calls out for Joel, asking if he's seen you. 

 you don’t miss the coincidence of your dad yelling into the house in search of you while his best friend cums inside you. a groan quiet in your ear as Joel suddenly stills deep inside you, hot spurts of his cum pumping into you, both your breaths heavy. he rocks into you, shaking breath as your father once again calls for him. 

when Joel pulls out of you, he caresses your spine, releasing your mouth. you suck in a breath, shuttering when his thumb slides over your ruined cunt, thumbing his cum back inside you gently, lowly groaning. 

you don't say anything, too shocked to speak as he pulls your panties back over you, dragging your dress over your ass.

releasing you from his grip, he hums into your ear, "now you’ll quit your fuckin' teasing, you hear me?" 

and then, within seconds, you hear him returning outside, calling back your dad's name while you try to stand upright on shaky legs. 

shit.

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