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joelswritingmistress · 3 days

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Camp Crystal Lake: Chapter 8

Requested by @yellowjacketsbuzzbuzz

Joel Miller x f!reader (romance/horror)

Setting: Camp Crystal Lake

The reader is taking on the position of a camp counselor at the infamous Camp Crystal Lake. While she begins to enjoy her summer, even crushing on the camp director Joel, a killer lurks in the woods unbeknownst to anyone.

Annie leaned her elbows on the top of a long, oversized freezer and tapped a pen against her inventory list. “How many more boxes of ice cream sandwiches should I get?” She whispered to herself, snapping the bubblegum in her mouth.

Her eyes stared down at the number twenty beside the bomb pops and she shrugged and jotted the same number down.

“Good enough for now, I guess.”

Annie reached down and lifted the lid on the freezer, taking a final glance at the stacks of ice cream boxes. She then slammed the top again and locked it up before making one last lap around the kitchen.

Through the serving window that gave a view of the mess hall, Annie saw the lights turn off in the oversized cafeteria. Her eyebrows pressed together and she crossed the way, glancing out through the open space.

“Hello?” Annie’s eyes moved left to right, eyeing the collection of picnic tables that had suddenly become encompassed with darkness.

Nothing. No response.

Are they on a timer? She wondered.

Annie wandered a few feet to the door that led out into the dining area and flung it open.

“Joel?” She called out.

Again, nothing.

To the left her fingers found a switch on the wall and she flicked the lights back on, taking in her surroundings with a shrug.

Annie sighed before heading back into the kitchen to retrieve her paperwork. When she turned back around, the lights in the dining area were off again.

“Okay,” she said to herself, shaking her head. Annie hurried through the open door this time, shouting, “Ha, ha! You're so funny!” She stopped and listened. There wasn't a sound. “You don't want to mess with the person who handles your food,” Annie teased, shouting out loud in the empty room.

Nothing.

After another few seconds of silence she reached an arm back into the kitchen area and turned off the lights before locking the door. Her eyes continued to scan the area for the prankster responsible for trying to spook her.

Annie held her papers under one arm and twirled the lanyard of her keys with her opposite hand. She blew a bubble and let it pop before deciding the head back to the main cabin.

She began her trek toward the door that led outside and about halfway through her walk, the lights went out again; only this time she was left in total darkness without the aid of the kitchen light. Annie froze, unable to see much of anything.

“Alright, cut it out!” She called out.

Annie felt her heart rate pick up. She was certain someone was playing a joke on her, but all the same being in the center of a dark room with no idea who was around had her on edge. Ralph came to mind. Jason came to mind. It was easy for the mind to drift to all kinds of worse case scenarios.

With a huff of a breath, Annie continued on her way, power walking toward the door that led outside between a row of picnic tables. When she heard a faint noise echo off the walls of the empty room, her feet moved faster.

Where did the noise come from? Annie wasn't sure. She hurried with more urgency, glancing over her shoulder once. Was someone else in there? There had to be.

She breathed heavily, trying not to scare herself and rushed to the partially open door. Right beside it was a light switch and Annie reached her hand out and flipped it. At the same time she turned and glanced around at the now-illuminated mess hall.

Fuck. Annie half-expected to see one of her coworkers standing there laughing or waving with a smile. But no one was there to cash in on their late-night prank.

“Fuck this,” she whispered. Annie sighed and composed herself before flipping the switch back off and heading out of the door. She began to lock it and could see the lights on in the main cabin a couple hundred yards away through the trees. Her guard let down again.

When the door was secured, Annie turned to head back but stopped when she came face-to-face with a tall, shadowy figure. She gasped at the sight of his presence and stepped back, only to be met by a hand to the throat.

Annie’s eyes widened when she recognized the machete in the ogre of a man’s hand. And then she truly, for the first time, recognized the hockey mask.

This is a joke; it has to be. Annie opened her mouth to scream as he raised the machete and her inventory papers dropped to the ground below.

“Who’s up for another fire?” Jeff asked, finishing off the last bite of his hot dog. He sat at the big, wooden kitchen table with everyone and wiped away a stray blob of ketchup from his lip.

“I'm in!” Vicky said with a smile. She nudged Mark, “You?”

“I'm in training,” he teased, though agreed with a nod when she gave him puppy dog eyes.

“Nah,” Sandra joked, prompting Jeff to roll his eyes at her.

“Don't drink too much,” Joel urged, “Before we get to painting, and before it gets hot, I have a hike planned for the morning.”

“Even me?” Mark asked, wheeling his wheelchair back and forth.

“Me and you are teaming up.”

“I'm in.” Mark smiled a contagious smile. He then turned to Vicky. “Don't get me drunk.”

“Cross my heart,” she told him with a grin, making the motion across her chest.

“What do you say Teri?” Scott asked, raising his eyebrows across the table. He took a bite of his burger.

“I could, I guess.” She shrugged. As much as Mark and Vicky seemed into one another, Vicky seemed very disinterested in Scott. Still, he was trying.

“Enjoy everyone,” Joel said, glancing subtly at me. “I'm getting an early night's sleep.”

“Afraid of Jason,” Ted commented with a thumb’s up. “Got it boss.”

Everyone chuckled and Joel humored them with a smile. “Just make it back to the cabin in one piece.”

“Will do,” Sandra said. She looked at me and then to Joel. “You coming or staying?” She whispered.

I shrugged and said quietly back, “I'll feel it out.”

As everyone wrapped up eating, I volunteered to grab their used paper plates and began to clear the table.

“You coming?” Jeff asked me, eager to head outside. He reached into the pocket of his cargo shorts and retrieved a blue lighter, flicking it on and off.

“Yeah I'll be down in a few,” I said, not sure if I could fulfill that promise. I held a hand out for his plate and he draped an arm around Sandra's shoulders before leading the way out the front door with the rest of the group behind him.

Joel helped clean up, retrieving condiments that were left in the center of the table.

“Thanks for helping clean up,” he said.

“No problem.” My eyes lifted toward the door, seeing the screen gently slam against the door frame as the last of them headed out into the night.

I took it upon myself to wipe the table down after tossing the plates in the garbage.

“You going outside?” Joel finally asked as I tossed some paper towels into the garbage can beside the kitchen island.

“I'm a little tired,” I said to him with a barely-there grin.

“It's been a long day.” Joel grinned back and then gave a little chuckle.

I laughed lightly with him. “It has.”

“You know,” he closed the distance between us, “I don't know if we’ll have this cabin alone much in the future.”

“You're probably right.”

Joel nodded and pulled me to him when he was within an arm's reach. Making out with him was addicting. Our lips met for the third time that day in a fiery, fighting for survival kind of way. I had never kissed anyone like that.

“Your room or mine?” I whispered against his lips.

“I was just about to ask you,” he said back, pecking my lips. “My bed is a queen.”

“I have a twin.” I gave a laugh.

“Well, I guess that settles that.” Joel reached for my hand and I took it. “You sure you don't want to go out to the fire?”

I grinned as he looked over his shoulder. “I'm pretty content right here.”

He flicked off the main switch to the downstairs area, leaving just a light on above the sink and then towed me up the wooden staircase.

Is this actually happening? I had butterflies in my stomach and felt my phone buzz in my pocket. I was sure it was Sandra but I didn't reach for it.

When Joel pulled me into his room and his lips crashed against mine again, my arms linked around his broad shoulders.

This is going to be the best summer of life!

@gissellec1 @cattt777 @mellymbee @armybts20137 @bbiophiliaa @littleblackcatinwonderland @mermaidgirl30 @brittmb115 @yellowjacketsbuzzbuzz @beltzboys2015-blog @lwfics @pedropascal111 @itscatrodriguez-thepearl

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joelslastofus · 12 days

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[SUMMARY: Joel continues an affair with his innocent neighbor, having a quickie in her backyard while her husband is home.]

PART TWO

“You don’t worry about him when I’m fucking you, ya hear me?”

That night after Joel left, your husband didn’t get home until nearly dawn. You faked being asleep with your back to him hearing him walk inside and go straight to the shower.

You couldn’t sleep that night but for the first time it wasn’t because of your husbands absence …but more so….Joel’s absence. It was hard to stop thinking about him…thinking about what you had just done but you knew it could never happen again.

The next morning you made breakfast silently, your husband not having much to say to you as usual so it was easy to avoid him. A quick peck on the cheek before giving you an excuse of how it will be so hard for him to call you on break, his voice fading in the background…before you even realized it, he had left.

The trash from the night before still sitting by the front door, you sighed cursing at yourself before taking it out yourself.

“Can’t count on him for a damn thing” you muttered to yourself as you lifted the top of the bin not realizing Joel was outside next door. Once you closed the bin that’s when you were caught off guard by the image of him before you. He didn’t say a word, barely getting a chance to as you quickly looked away rushing back inside. Joel watched as the door slammed shut before hearing Sarah come out behind him.

“Dad, you ready?” He cleared his throat turning away from your direction.

“Yeah, let’s go. You’re gonna be late” Joel hopped in his truck and drove off.

Peaking through your window you watched him leave. Sighing to yourself you turned away, how the hell were you suppose to face him?

Especially in front of your husband.

Joel had woken up that morning reminiscing on the night before, standing in the shower he remembered how wet you were for him as hesitant as you may have been.

If you weren’t married he swore he would’ve let himself cum in you..over and over.

That evening after running some errands you got home to find your husband and Joel talking to each other on the front lawn. Stopping in your tracks, your lips parted, it being the last thing you expected to come home to.

“There you are, look what Joel got for us” Henry grinned showing you the very same bottle of wine the two of you had opened together the evening before.

“This is one of my favorite brands, how’d you know?” Henry laughed as you stood nervously before them.

“Lucky guess” Joel shrugged as he glimpsed at you with a smirk.

You could kill him.

“This is gonna go great with the game tonight, thank you-“

“I better get dinner going” you interrupted making the two men look over at you.

“Sure go ahead,”

“Thanks, Joel” you muttered uncomfortably as you quickly walked away. Henry continued on talking about the game that night not noticing the way Joel’s eyes followed you. He noticed your husband not offering to help you with the two heavy bags you had bought in, yet it was all things you were used to.

“Dinner almost ready?” Henry called out to you from the living room as you put his clothes in the laundry.

“Just a couple more minutes!” You responded when you noticed the collar of his shirt had a weird stain on it. Your heart sinking as you came to realize it was stained with a woman’s lipstick. Sitting down on the bed you sighed, unsure of how you were suppose to feel.

Of course it hurt, yet you couldn’t help but think about what you were doing the day before.

It didn’t make you any better.

Although, it was very much obvious Henry had been doing this for some time now…you just never had any physical evidence of it.

Serving Henry his dinner as he sat in front of the tv he noticed you hadn’t served yourself.

“Aren’t you eating now?”

“No. Um, I was feeling a little queasy earlier. I’m not too hungry” you lied. Henry shrugged his shoulders and went on to watch the game.

Quickly walking away you held yourself together before walking out the back door. The sun had gone down, it was nearly eight o’clock, it was a quiet evening…it was what you needed. Closing the door behind you, you took a deep breath standing in the middle of your backyard when you heard a noise next door.

Of course it was Joel Miller.

The second he lay eyes on you, you froze, your arms crossed as he walked closer to the fence.

“You gonna run away again, darlin’?”

“What are you trying to do? Gifting him the same wine bottle I had-“

“Actually it was for you” he interrupted before realizing you seemed distracted, you seemed upset. Raising a brow he took a step closer.

“You alright?”

“Yes, what makes you think I’m not?” You asked defensively just as the sound of your husband cheering loudly was heard from your window making you turn to it. Joel took advantage that you looked away and quickly climbed over the low fence. The sound of his boots hitting the ground making you turn back and gasp.

“Joel! Are you crazy?!” You whispered as he proceeded to walk towards you.

“What are you doing? My husband is inside!” His arm closing around your waist pulling you against his body.

“You tellin’ me ya don’t wanna see me?” His question making you look up into his playful brown eyes, a smirk on his lips. Your hand on his chest yet you weren’t applying pressure to push him away. There it was again, those intense feelings of confusion…

“Joel…please..if Henry-“

“Forget about Henry” he whispered looking down at your lips. Slowly he leaned towards you, his hand gently tilting your face up, he kissed you softly before the sound of Henry’s voice caused you to quickly push him back.

“This is insane, you need to go” you turned away from him refusing to look back at him when you felt his hands roughly take hold of your hips.

“Joel” you gasped when you felt him push himself up against you. A full erection could be felt through his sweats, his pelvis thrusting against you.

“Joel please…I shouldn’t..” you whispered feeling him slowly pull up your dress. Looking behind him making sure no one was around he pushed down his pants, his cock sticking out of the hole in his boxers, he slipped his hand between your warm thighs and pulled aside your underwear. The sounds of the two of you breathing loudly as you felt his cock meet with your wet pussy. Your eyes rolling back as he slid in you and proceeded to work in a slow steady rhythm. Each stroke he could hear how wet you were, the juices from your pussy beginning to leave wet stains on his boxers as he slowly picked up his pace. His quick thrusts causing you to hold onto the wall beside you to keep yourself steady before he pulled you back into his body.

“He doesn’t fuck you like this, does he?” He whispered roughly in your ear as he fucked you harder.

“Tell me that pussy only gets this wet for me-“ he grunted. It was true, the level of arousal his touch bought you was like nothing you had felt.

“Say it!” He gave your hips a tight squeeze as you struggled not to moan.

“I’m only wet for you, Joel-“ you panted.

“You promise?”

“I promise!” You whispered as a whimper escaped your lips. Henry yelling at the tv making you jump and turn to your window until Joel grabbed you by your hair turning you away from it.

“You don’t worry about him when I’m fucking you, you hear me?” your head back against him as he pulled on your hair with such force that only turned bought you closer to orgasm.

“Yes-yes” you gasped as he continued to thrust his hips. Sex wasn’t like this with Henry.

Sex with Joel felt like a wild ride you didn’t want to end. Staring up at the clear sky with stars you couldn’t believe you were having a quickie with Joel Miller in your backyard. The strap of your dress slipping down your shoulder causing Joel to push it down further.

“Joel-“ you gasped quickly covering your breast.

“No one’s gonna see a thing” his large hand squeezing your breast as he continued, the sound of his breathing growing heavier right before he came.

“Shit-“ you felt him quickly slip out of you as you turned and watched him leaned back against the wall and jerk himself off onto the floor. Squeezing his eyes shut you watched as cum continued to shoot out of him. Out of breath he proceeded to fix his pants still leaning back. You could tell with how much he came he just had any energy sucked out of him. Looking over at you he winked at you, reaching over and fixing the strap of your dress not realizing you had never fixed it, distracted at the sight of Joel cumming. The sound of your husband still yelling at the tv as you worriedly looked at your window. Joel pulled you back against him seeing the guilt slowly make its way through you again.

“Hey” he whispered making you look up at him.

“I know he’s cheating on me” you blurt out.

“I just…I never thought I’d be married sneaking around with another man”

“Come over Friday” he whispered unexpectedly.

“What?”

“I’m off, Sarah’s in school, Tommy’s working, you’re home alone- I want cha in my bed” his eyes darkened, the thought exciting him.

“I…I don’t know, Joel..I can’t keep doing this.”

“Promise me you’ll think about it” his eyes were desperate for a positive response.

“Yes..I-I promise. I gotta go, Joel” before you could pull away he pulled you in for another kiss. Never had you felt this way from a kiss with your own husband, you couldn’t explain it. Joel let you go and watched you go inside before he climbed back over the fence as if nothing had happened..

#pedro pascal #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller x oc #tlou fanfiction #joel miller fan fiction #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x female oc #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller imagine

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netherfeildren · 1 year

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Fear of God : Masterlist

Artwork is The Goldfinch by Carel Fabritius

Pairing: Joel Miller x OFC

Summary: What was monstrousness? What was it, but a certainty that there existed within you multitudes of desires, needs, guilts, impulses – humanity? At the end of the world, when the dust has finally settled, Joel grapples with what it is to take hold of your own monstrosity – your own humanity – and live with it. And what it is to bear that truth in the palm of your hand held towards the person you love, offer it to them, and have it be accepted for what it was. Courage, above all else, it is courage that is necessary to go on.

-OR-

Big bad Joel Miller falls in love and doesn't know how to deal with it.

Rating: Explicit 18+

Content: Age gap, smut, angst, grief, PTSD, canon typical violence, discussions of medical procedures/illness, emotional unavailability, pregnancy

Word Count: 55K

Read on AO3

Chapter I: I dreamt that time had ended

Chapter II: Although a monster [Joel] could be charming in company

Chapter III: Your bitter heart, heals my heart

Chapter IV: Mouth full of blood

Chapter V: Love humiliates you

Chapter VI: The indignity of suffering

Chapter VII: For: Before

Chapter VIII: The Fisher King

Chapter IX: What should we believe in next?

Epilogue: Birdie

Birdie's House: Extras

Did the loneliness die that night?

Summary: Birdie and Joel’s first time.

I am a lantern

Summary: Birdie realizes she’s pregnant.

Joel

Summary: Writing exercise, not part of canon story line - Joel passes away.

My Whole Life

Summary: The family celebrates Joel’s birthday.

Updates Blog : Follow and turn on notifications for new writing!

🎶 FoG Companion Playlists:

- Apple Music

- Spotify

(This is not only a compilation of songs that reminded me of the story, but also songs I listened to over and over again during my writing process)

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cinnamongorll · 4 months

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'a fragile line' - masterlist

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female OC

Fic synopsis: three years ago, Juliet escaped her father's religious survivor camp, ending up in the Boston QZ. Juliet created a life for herself in Boston, desperate to forget the trauma of her upbringing. One day, Juliet arrives home to find a mysterious letter which forces her to return to her home town. Juliet can't travel the harsh post-apocalyptic landscape alone, so she enlists the help of the grumpy and, at times, frightening man she works alongside: Joel Miller.

Tags: extreme slow burn, age gap, older man/younger woman, protective joel, jealous joel, hurt/comfort, pov third person, mutual pining, angst, sexual tension, friends to lovers, canon-typical violence, feral joel, parental abuse, eventual smut.

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Inspired by ‘Strangers’ by Ethel Cain, ‘Haunted’ by Taylor Swift, and ‘Francesca’ by Hozier 🫀

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read on ao3 - currently 30 chapters (139k words) & usually updated every 1-2 weeks!

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read on tumblr:

chapter 1 'Marked for death'

chapter 2 'Put it on me'

chapter 3 'Twice'

chapter 4 'Something in the way'

chapter 5 'Way down we Go'

chapter 6 'Hearing Damage'

chapter 7 'Slipped'

chapter 8 'Killer + The Sound'

chapter 9 'Carolina'

chapter 10 'Salt and the Sea'

chapter 11 'Tulsa Jesus Freak'

chapter 12 'The Night We Met'

chapter 13 'First Defeat'

chapter 14 'Who We Are'

chapter 15 'Bloodstream'

chapter 16 'Villain'

chapter 17 'NFWMB'

chapter 18 ‘Funny’

chapter 19 'Strangers'

chapter 20 'No Sound But The Wind'

chapter 21 'I'm Your Man'

chapter 22 ‘Running Up That Hill’

chapter 23 'My Tears Ricochet'

chapter 24 ‘Safe and Sound’

chapter 25 'House Song'

chapter 26 'My Body is a Cage'

chapter 27 'Happiness is a Butterfly'

chapter 28 'Illicit Affairs'

chapter 29 'The Last Time'

chapter 30 'If You Lie Down With Me'

#joel miller x original character #joel miller x reader #joel miller x oc #joel miller x female oc #joel miller hbo #joel miller fanfic #joel miller angst #ao3 fanfic #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel tlou #the last of us hbo #the last of us #Spotify #pedro pascal #joel miller smut #tlou #tlou hbo #joel the last of us

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starry-eyes-love · 8 months

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My Journey to You | Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Summary | (Post Outbreak) For the past year Joel Miller (age 52), You (Female Reader age 27), and Ellie (age 14) have been searching for Joel's brother Tommy. Recently someone had told you that he had settled in Jackson, Wyoming and now that is where you three are headed. Somewhere along the way, you have fallen hard for the broody, quiet, and sometimes grumpy man named Joel Miller. As the two of you navigate the wilderness together you also have to navigate your feelings for one another in the presence of a teenage girl named Ellie. Survival in the wilderness does not come easy and neither does a relationship with Joel Miller. The question is, can you survive the journey?

Pairing | Joel Miller x F!Reader. Ellie just is a travel companion and a teenager who is often difficult to deal with.

Fic Warnings | 18+ Minors DNI, Explicit Smut, language, unprotected sex, no use of Y/N. See each chapter for specific warnings

Fic Notes | Welcome to my first ever Joel Miller x F!Reader fanfiction. I hope you all like it, as I am enjoying writing it.

No longer doing tag lists, turn on notifications to see when I post new stories.

Chapters

Prequel: Just This Once

Ch 1: Frozen Desire

Ch 2: Blood & Pain

Ch 3: Even Tough Hearts Break Under Pressure

Ch 4: Please, I Need You

Ch 5: Woodland Fun

Ch 6: You're Forever Mine

Ch 7: A Silent Promise to You

Ch 8: A Christmas Story

Ch 8.5: Dance With Me

Ch 9: Blood Within Me

Chapter 10 (in progress of writing)

going to be more than 10 chapters, unknown total yet.

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theetherealbloom · 6 days

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BUT DADDY I LOVE HIM - CH.2

Chapter 2: Just Screeching Tires And True Love

Summary: After harboring a crush on your dad's charming best friend, Joel Miller, you graduate college only to be confused by something he supposedly said to you, but then he and his daughter Sarah, reluctantly move away due to his work. Six months later, Joel returns to town, and you're desperate to confirm if his words were real. Both you and your dad eagerly await his arrival but for entirely different reasons. As feelings intensify, you realize that falling for him might not be temporary after all.

Paring: Dbf!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst, AGE-GAP Romance, Reader is Early twenties and Joel is in his late 30s to early 40s, Secret Romance, Sneaking Around, FLUFF, LOTS OF SMUT, SMUT, SMUT, Heavy Make Out Session, Oral Fem Receiving, Kissing, Barely any plot, NOT A SLOW BURN AT ALL, Relationship, Swearing, Depression, Anxiety, Crying, Suggestive content, Flirting, Flattery, Awkward, Virgin reader, inexperienced reader, slightly Self Deprecating, Suggestive Content, Size Kink, Reader is “smaller” than Joel but no further descriptions, Breeding Kink, PWP (wrap it up), Body worship, declaring their love for each other,

Word Count: 6.5k

A/N: Oh, wow. I didn’t expect all the love you all gave in the previous chapter. That was my first time writing real, raw, dirty smut. Like IM STILL SO NERVOUS AND SHY to post smut AHSKJFHAHAHA. The introvert in me is like… having a huge anxiety attack rn PLS–

So, um, chat, I’m actually dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and/or grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!

Song: But Daddy I Love Him by Taylor Swift

Previous Chapter → Next Chapter | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Joel's skilled hands and tongue explore every inch of your body, knowing that a series of powerful orgasms is the key to preparing you for him.

His fingers and tongue trace a path of pleasure over your skin, and you can't help but respond to his touch. Despite your reservations, you find yourself quickly reaching a boiling point, your body trembling with need.

Joel's touch is like a dream come true, his hands and mouth staking his claim on what's his. He takes his time undressing you, savoring every moment of this intimate moment.

As you lay back, your legs wrapped around his shoulders, Joel's tongue delves deep inside you, exploring every inch of your slick folds. His mouth moves over your clit with the same skill and passion as his lips on yours.

You try to whisper his name, to tell him something, anything, but every time he shifts his mouth to ask if you're okay, you can only shiver and gasp, your body trembling with pleasure.

Joel's touch is like a drug, and you find yourself quickly becoming addicted to the feeling of his hands and mouth on your body. You lose yourself in the moment, surrendering to the pleasure that only Joel can bring you.

Joel can't help but feel the overwhelming urge to bury himself deep inside you, to feel your slick heat surrounding him.

His balls are heavy and tight, his cock twitching against his jeans as he fights the urge to climax.

But despite his own desire, Joel remains focused on your pleasure, his tongue exploring every inch of your body as you shudder and moan beneath him.

You are a vision of beauty, your skin flushed and glowing with the aftermath of your climax.

Joel's own need is intense, but he holds back, wanting to make sure you're fully satisfied before he takes his own pleasure.

"I need you, darlin'," he groans, his body pressed against yours as he fumbles with his zipper.

But when you speak up, he stops, his body tensing with anticipation.

"What is it?" he pants, his heart racing as he tries to hold back his own climax.

You look worried, and Joel can't help but feel a pang of concern.

"This is what you want?" he asks, his voice low and gentle.

You nod, but there's still a hint of worry in your eyes.

"Buttercup, what is it?" he presses, his concern growing.

But when you tell him, his heart swells with emotion.

"I've never been with anyone before, Joel," you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Joel feels a surge of protectiveness and love, knowing that he's the first person to ever touch you in this way.

Joel's heart swells with emotion as you confess your virginity. He pulls you close, kissing your forehead as he whispers reassurances.

"No, I don't mind, darlin'," Joel reassures you, his voice filled with tenderness and desire. "It means you'll be mine, and I'll be your first."

You still look uncertain, but the hunger in your eyes tells Joel everything he needs to know.

His cock strains against his jeans, eager to be freed, aching to be inside you. Joel smiles, a mix of pride and desire filling him as he sees your attraction to him.

"We can go as fast or slow as you want, darlin'," he whispers, his hands finding your hips as he settles back between your legs.

But you have other plans. Your arms pull him close, your voice a breathless plea, "Yes, yes please, now."

Joel's heart races as he finds his zipper and frees his cock, the tip swollen and eager, ready for you.

"You sure?" he asks, his hands trembling with anticipation as you nod, your desire written all over your face.

With a swift movement, Joel sheds his flannel, revealing his soft yet toned body, his full erection standing proud and ready for you.

"Oh, fuck, Joel," you murmur, your eyes widening at the sight of him, the intensity of the moment hitting you.

As you both revel in the anticipation of what's to come, a distant rumble breaks the moment - a truck, your father's truck, parked outside.

Panic sets in as you realize the situation, the urgency of the moment propelling you both into a frenzy of dressing, the need for secrecy driving you to move quickly.

In a rush of movement, you both scramble to get dressed, the interruption leaving you both breathless and on edge, the promise of what was about to happen hanging in the air.

You hear the heavy steps of your father approaching the porch, the sound echoing through the house before the bell rings. Joel watches you quickly compose yourself, smoothing down your hair and adjusting your clothes, trying to appear composed despite the heated moment you both shared.

You move to Joel's kitchen, pretending to search through his pantry, your heart racing with the intensity of the situation.

Joel doesn't rush to answer the door, but your father is already there, a bag in hand, when he does.

"Joel, you okay, buddy?" Your father's voice fills the room, and Joel responds with a casual tone, "Yeah, yeah. Your daughter is in the kitchen helping me unpack some stuff. Come on in."

The air is thick with tension as your father enters, unaware of the charged atmosphere between you and Joel. You exchange a quick glance, a silent understanding passing between you as you both navigate hiding your shared secret.

"Hey, Dad, how was work?" You ask, trying to keep your tone casual and light.

Your father hands Joel one of his bags, his eyes flicking between the two of you, a hint of suspicion in his gaze.

"Anything interesting happen today?" You ask, trying to keep the conversation flowing.

Your father shrugs, his eyes still on you and Joel. "Just the usual," he says, his tone nonchalant, but his gaze lingering on the two of you.

"Well, I came over to check in… and tell you two that we should start prepping dinner soon," he says, breaking the tension. "Sweetie, why don't you help set up the table while I take over and help Joel finish up over here?"

"Yeah, sure thing, Dad," you say and your father smiles and you give one more glance over at him and Joel before leaving.

As you close the front door of Joel’s home and step off the porch, you take a deep breath and sigh, your heart racing with the fear of being caught.

You quietly position yourself near the edge of the house, just out of sight, listening in on the conversation between Joel and your father.

You feel your body flooded with anxiety, knowing that you need to make sure your father doesn't discover your secret with Joel.

You don't want him to find out or jump to conclusions before you and Joel have had a chance to define your relationship.

As you listen, you can hear the regret in your father's voice, and although Joel's tone is clear, your father's is softer, more subdued.

You can feel the weight of unspoken tension in the air, a heaviness that hangs between your father and Joel.

"It's fine, man, it really is," Joel reassures your dad, his voice calm and steady, a stark contrast to the unease that lingers.

Your father's repeated apologies have left you puzzled, his behavior out of character and leaving you wondering what's truly bothering him.

"So, what's eatin’ you?" Joel's voice cuts through the silence, his tone firm yet compassionate. "It's like you have a bug up my ass since I got here. C'mon, out with it," he urges, his directness surprising you.

As you listen in on the conversation, you can't help but feel a mix of emotions. You're concerned for your dad, who seems to be struggling with feelings of jealousy and insecurity.

"I dunno, Joel. It's just seeing you this time around, hearing how well you've done. And with my own business not doing as well… Fuck, man. Can ya blame a guy for wondering where he went wrong?" your father admits.

Joel responds with kindness and understanding, offering to help your father financially if he needs it.

"I told you, name the amount or just say the word. I'll cut you a check right now," Joel says, his voice steady and reassuring.

You get the sense that they had a lengthy conversation at the home office earlier, and Joel had seen firsthand the state of your father's business.

Despite your own worries, you can't help but feel a sense of pride in Joel's unwavering support for your father, even in the face of his own success.

"I don't want your charity, Joel," your dad says, his voice heavy with frustration. "I want...I guess I want the past twenty years back so I could do it differently. Do it better for my daughter. You know?"

Your heart aches for your dad, for all that he's done for you, putting family first even when it's just the two of you. It's what gets him out of bed every morning.

"I understand," Joel replies, his voice soothing. "But you've done your best, and now it's time for me to do mine. Movin’ back here isn't just about hangin’ out. I'm here to support you, whether you like it or not. So quit being stubborn and let me help."

Your dad goes quiet, and you realize that you've been eavesdropping for too long. You start to move away, not wanting to intrude on their conversation, but you hear your dad say something that stops you in your tracks.

"Joel, all those years ago. After her mom left and I had nothin'. We had nothin'. Remember who set me up in that little auto shop?"

Your interest is piqued. Anything to do with the past is interesting to you because your dad absolutely refuses to ever talk about it.

"It was you, Joel, all of it, and you know it. Hell, even Tommy helped us. If it wasn't for you and him, all the hard work you put in, paying off that damned loan, my daughter and I wouldn't be where we are today. And there's no way she would've gone to college."

Your dad's voice breaks off, full of emotion. And you hear Joel shifting his weight across the room.

"C'mon, we've been through this a million times. That damn loan was to get both of us started, remember? And we always said whoever paid it back first would never owe the other a fuckin’ penny. Remember?"

As you listen to your dad and Joel's conversation, you can't help but feel a mix of emotions. You're happy to learn about the support and friendship that exists between them, but you're also surprised that you're only hearing about it now.

"I remember," your dad groans, and you realize that it's time for you to leave them to have a private conversation.

As you make your way home, you can't help but wonder about Joel's past and the ways in which he's helped your family over the years. You're grateful for his generosity, but you're also a little shocked that you're only hearing about it now.

A night of many firsts for you, it seems. But your first time with Joel is obviously going to have to wait.

As you walk away, you can't help but feel a sense of anticipation. You know that Joel wants to tell your dad about your relationship, and you can see why. They used to share everything, including start-up money.

You guess that Joel wants what you want too - to have your dad as a part of the family for all of you.

But the shock of it all might cost more than you think, especially if your dad is as stubborn about you being with Joel as he is with everything else.

For now, you can only wait and see how things unfold, hoping what you have with Joel will be strong enough to weather any storm that comes your way.

"So, sweetie, did you have fun over at Joel’s?" Your dad asks, his innocent question sending a jolt of panic through you.

You choke on your food, feeling Joel's eyes on you from across the table. You quickly take a sip of water, trying to compose yourself. "Sorry... just... I... that went down the wrong pipe. Um, yeah, it was fun, a bit tiring though, kinda like a whole workout," you manage to say, your voice slightly shaky.

Unbeknownst to your dad, Joel shoots you a knowing wink, his smirk sending a thrill through you. You focus on your plate, trying to avoid any more embarrassing slip-ups.

As you try to eat, your mind races with thoughts of Joel. The simple act of 'being neighbors' suddenly feels like an impossible task. You can't shake the desire you feel for him, the hunger for his touch burning hot within you.

There's an obvious tension around the table, an aura of unspoken desire. You know there's no way you can make it through dinner without giving in to the overwhelming attraction you feel for Joel. It would take a miracle to resist the pull between you.

Thankfully, the universe seemed to be on your side as Joel's phone suddenly rang, interrupting the tension at the table.

"Sorry... gotta take this. It's Sarah," Joel said, his voice sheepish as he excused himself from the table.

You couldn't help but perk up at the mention of Sarah's name, smiling as you said, "Tell her hi for me please."

Joel easily slid his chair out and moved into the living room to answer his phone, his low voice a comforting presence as he greeted Sarah.

Your dad's suspicious gaze lingered on you for a moment, but you stayed quiet, focusing on your food. The anxiety bubbling up inside of you was making you dizzy, but you tried your best to push it aside and enjoy the meal.

As Joel talked on the phone, you couldn't help but feel a sense of relief. The interruption had given you a moment to collect yourself and regain your composure.

But even as you ate, your mind was still consumed with thoughts of Joel. The desire you felt for him was overwhelming, and you knew that it was only a matter of time before you gave in to the temptation.

Joel returns to the dining area, still on the phone, and hands it to you with a dramatic grumble. "Sarah wants to talk to you."

Your eyebrows shoot up in happy surprise, and you take the phone, excitedly greeting Sarah. "Hi Sarah! Miss you loads, I'm so excited you're moving back here."

Sarah squeals with delight, "You'll be there to pick me up from the airport tomorrow afternoon, right? With my dad?"

"Mhm! I'll be there, Joel is borrowing my car in the meantime." You assure her, smiling as you hear her excitement. "See you then!"

You say your goodbyes and hand the phone back to Joel, who resumes his call and says goodbye to Sarah.

As you head back into the dining area, you notice your dad has been busy on his phone, looking through his emails.

The tension from earlier has dissipated, replaced with a sense of excitement for Sarah's return.

But even as you chat with your dad, your mind is still consumed with thoughts of Joel. The desire you feel for him is overwhelming, and you can't help but steal glances at him throughout the meal.

As dinner winds down, Joel stands up, exchanging a hug and a pat on the back with your dad before turning to you. He pulls you into a warm embrace, his arms wrapping around you in a tight squeeze.

The electricity between you is palpable, the air thick with anticipation. You can't help but feel a rush of excitement as you look into Joel's eyes, knowing that the night is far from over.

With a lingering touch and a whispered promise, Joel leaves you with a sense of longing and desire, eager to see what the rest of the evening holds for the two of you.

Your dad checks in on you before he retires to his room, a habit from when you were a child. But tonight, your mind is elsewhere, consumed with thoughts of Joel.

As you lie in bed, your heart races, and your body aches for his touch. You know that sleep is impossible until you're in his arms.

After what feels like hours of tossing and turning, you decide to take matters into your own hands. Quietly, you slip out of bed, grabbing your phone, putting on your shoes and a sweater over your sleep shirt and shorts.

You listen at your dad's door, hearing the deep rhythm of his snoring, signaling that he's fast asleep.

With a sense of determination, you make your way to the back of the house and slip out the door, making your way up to Joel's porch.

If you were unsure about rushing into things a few hours ago, a sleepless night and the lingering ache between your legs are enough to convince you that you don't just want it - you need it.

The anticipation builds with every step, your heart pounding in your chest as you approach his door. You take a deep breath, ready to see where the night will take you.

Before you have the chance to knock, the door swings open, revealing Joel in nothing but grey sweatpants, his broad shoulders, soft belly and toned chest on full display.

Your breath hitches in your throat as you take in the sight of him, your body responding instantly to his presence.

"Well, hello there, darlin’" Joel says, his voice low and seductive. "Was wonderin’ when you'd show up.”

Without a word, you step forward, closing the distance between you and Joel. Your hands reach up to touch his bare chest, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips.

"I need you," you whisper, your voice filled with desire.

Joel's eyes darken with lust, and he pulls you closer, his lips crashing down on yours in a passionate kiss. The sound of the front door slamming shut and him locking it echoes through the room as he doesn't remove his mouth from yours.

As you lose yourself in the moment, you know that tonight is the beginning of something new and exciting - a chance to escape the mundane and embrace the passion that burns between you and Joel.

Even though you're still a little tender from your earlier encounter, you're confident that you can handle him. You think. Maybe not all of him, but at least half of what you saw earlier.

The anticipation builds as Joel's hands explore your body, his touch setting your skin on fire. You whimper, your voice cracking and your body even buckling as he pulls you closer to him.

Your whole body is exploding with arousal, flushing through you all the way to where you need him most.

Your hands claw at his chest, and feeling his heart pounding hard against it, followed by the unmistakable feeling of his stiff erection probing you, you know you’re on the same page.

"I wanted it to be special," Joel says, almost sounding disappointed.

"It will be special," you counter, daringly running the flat of your palm up the front of his jeans, making him groan in a low tone.

"I meant somewhere special… not here," he reasons.

"I don't care where we do it, Joel. Bent over your couch, against the wall, on the kitchen counter - I just need you inside me," you gasp, your breath hitching with desire.

His strong arms effortlessly lift you off your feet in one swift motion, his muscles flexing as he carries you towards the bedroom.

"Then it's the bedroom," he growls, his voice low and commanding, as he strides purposefully up the stairs, his gaze locked on yours.

In this moment, you couldn't care less if anyone caught a glimpse of the two of you. All that matters is the raw desire pulsing between you and Joel.

The world fades away as you enter the bedroom, the air thick with anticipation and need. You know that this is where you belong, in Joel's arms, giving yourself completely to him.

If not for the interruption earlier, this morning would have been the moment you surrendered to him. But now, there are no more barriers, no more distractions.

It's just you and Joel Miller, enveloped in a whirlwind of passion and desire.

Joel might have envisioned a five-star hotel suite or a secluded cottage by the lake as more romantic settings. But you're right. Anywhere that's just the two of you alone will be special.

Your first time, or both of your first times, is something to be cherished. But what truly matters is the connection between you and Joel, not the location.

Seeing you standing there in nothing but the shortest sleep shorts and a sweater, Joel can't wait a moment longer. The urgency to be with you, to share this intimate moment, is overwhelming. He discards both of your clothing somewhere between the frenzy of kisses and tongue. The hours it would take to create the perfect setting elsewhere pale in comparison to the raw desire pulsing between you both.

In the bedroom that Joel wishes to be both of yours, he can't help but get a shiver. This is it, the moment you've both been waiting for. Joel, with the woman of his dreams. You, with a man who has more to offer than just his own needs.

It has to be right now. Joel needs to lay you down and fill your sweet cunt with his seed. There's an urgency between you both, like you've both got an appointment with destiny that neither of you can miss.

"We won't be interrupted this time," you whisper knowingly, and if last night's anything to go by, you both know you want more than just an hour of each other.

Joel's hands tremble as he holds himself over you, your heaving breaths swirling in the even hotter places between your bodies. Your mouths lock in deep, penetrating kisses, Joel's chest butted up against yours, both your hearts pounding out a beat that somehow he knows is gonna make another kid. This time with you. And God help him, he's gonna do right by you.

"I've waited for this… dreamed of you for so long," Joel rasps, feeling you sliding his swallowed tip over the entrance to your slick valley. Your quivering, tight cunt is pressing and rubbing against his cock, making both of your eyes open wider. Joel feels you tense up just a little, but he makes sure it's you who guides his hardness for now.

"I've waited too. I still can't believe this is actually happening," you purr, your thighs and wide hips perfectly matching Joel's own size. And he knows you're gonna need all the padding you can get once he starts fucking you like he senses you want it.

Joel's lips crash onto yours once more, your tongues dancing together as your bodies become one. You can feel him entering you, filling you up in a way that takes your breath away.

"It's so big," you gasp, your voice trembling with pleasure.

"Go as slow or as fast as you want, darlin'," Joel murmurs, his voice strained with desire. He watches your face, your expressions of pleasure and discomfort as he slowly enters you.

"Oh, fuck, Joel," you moan, your voice deep and loud. Joel can't help but join in, his own moans mingling with yours as he slides deeper into you.

Inch by inch, he fills you up, your bodies moving together in a rhythm that feels both new and familiar. You can feel every inch of him, the sensation both overwhelming and exhilarating.

There's a moment of discomfort, a jolt that makes you wince, but it passes quickly, replaced by a feeling of fullness that takes your breath away.

You can feel the heat building between you and Joel, the intensity of your connection growing stronger with each passing moment. Your bodies move together in a rhythm that feels both primal and instinctual, a dance as old as time itself.

"You feel so fuckin' good, sweetheart," Joel groans, his voice low and husky with desire.

You can only respond by gripping his cock from the inside, shifting your hips higher as your mouth forms an 'O' shape. Your eyes are pinched shut for a moment, lost in the overwhelming sensation of Joel filling you up completely.

But when you open them again, you're met with Joel's gaze, his eyes dark with desire and need. You can see the tension in his muscles, the way his biceps bulge as he grips your hips.

You both want this, crave this connection that goes beyond words. You want to share your first climax together, to create something beautiful and new between you.

And if you're lucky, maybe he’ll even put a baby in your belly.

You grip hold of Joel's forearms, your smaller hands doing their best to clutch them as he watches your breasts start to bounce with each long and firm stroke in and out of your tight wet pussy.

You're lost in the moment, your body moving in perfect harmony with Joel's as he thrusts into you again and again. You can feel every inch of him, filling you up in a way that makes you feel complete.

"Give it to me, Joel," you cry out, your voice hoarse with desire. You hook your ankles around his back, urging him to fuck you as hard and fast as he likes.

Joel doesn't hold back, his hips pistoning as he drives himself deeper into you. You can feel every thrust, the sensation bordering on painful but in the best way possible.

Your G-spot is a prime target at this angle, and once you get a taste of how good it feels, you're hooked. You like it hard, deep, and fast just as much as you like it soft and slow.

The bed underneath you both creaks and groans with the force of your frantic pumping and rocking. Any concerns you both might have had about making noise are long gone. It's a wild, primal sound, and Joel's grunts and growls are matched by yours with every movement of your entangled bodies.

His grip shifts from your hips to that ass of yours, kneading your soft cheeks with his fingers as he pulls you harder towards him. The slick warmth of your essence mixes with his own precome, the combination creating a friction that's both intense and overwhelming.

Joel is proud of how much you can take of him. His balls are rising with his pending climax, the tightness and warmth of your sweet pussy working its magic.

You both know this isn't a race or a test of endurance. Joel knows your prized pussy is his, and your body is his. But it's your climax that he's craving.

To see your face as he fills you with his seed.

And the new life he has ready to put inside you is as eager to make that dream come true for either of you.

Your body stiffens suddenly, and then trembles all over. You arch the small of your back, grunting words that have Joel swelling so much inside of you that he knows that you're both close.

Your eyes roll back, and you force quick breaths through your mouth. Joel's jaw is clenched and tight.

The growl from him is growing by the second as he feels his release rising.

"C'mon, baby, fuck, I'm gonna come… gonna come… tell me where darlin, fuck," Joel practically shouts, and you whimper, "Inside… inside me, Joel, fuck a baby into me."

Your gasping screams as you try to call his name fill his ears, rushing with the torrent of his pulse when he feels his own climax start to escape him.

The shudder of your hips against his and Joel's hands holding you so tight against him makes it feel like you're finally one.

Joel has never come so hard in his life, and he's never felt what he feels for you with anyone or anything. And unlike your climax when he used his mouth, this is a proper full-body orgasm for you. And for him too.

Your bodies are slick with sweat, your skin hot and flushed with desire. You're both breathing heavily, your chests rising and falling in unison.

Joel collapses onto you, his body spent and sated, his chest rising and falling with each heavy breath. The room is filled with the sound of your combined heartbeats, a symphony of desire and satisfaction.

As you lie there, entwined with Joel, you can feel the powerful energy coursing through both of your bodies, a potent connection that leaves you both breathless and wanting more.

The waves of your shared climax begin to ebb, but the intensity of the moment lingers in the air, wrapping you both in a cocoon of pleasure and intimacy.

"Holy shit," you gasp, still shuddering from the force of your release. You can feel Joel's member continuing to flex and pulse inside you, a reminder of the raw passion that brought you both to this moment.

It's more than just an orgasm. It's a transcendent experience, a merging of souls that leaves you both feeling bound together in a way that words can't quite capture.

As you catch your breath, you look into Joel's eyes, seeing a depth of emotion and connection that takes your breath away. In this moment, you know that you've found something special, something rare and beautiful that goes beyond mere physical pleasure.

Joel's smile is warm and genuine as he looks down at you, his body still intimately connected to yours. "Darlin’, you're mine now, if you'll have me," he says, his voice filled with emotion.

You can feel the aftershocks of your climax still pulsing through your body, the sensation of Joel's stiffness still flexing inside of you a constant reminder of the pleasure you've just shared.

Joel eases himself onto his side, sensing how much you want him to stay inside you. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you close as you both lay spent, your bodies still entwined in a tangle of limbs.

Your panting breaths mingle in the air, your smiles of near disbelief that anything so incredible could even be possible.

"Of course, Joel, I...," you begin to giggle, gasping in a quick breath as you feel his stiffness still flexing inside of you.

Joel props himself up on one elbow, caressing your cheek as he finally slides out of you. "I don't know how I know, but I just know. Do you feel it too, darlin’?" he asks, his voice filled with a sense of wonder.

You can feel your whole body relaxing, the tension and excitement of your climax slowly ebbing away. "Oh, I think I'm gonna feel it for a few days," you joke, your eyes widening in amazement.

Joel's smile is warm and genuine as he looks down at you, his eyes filled with love and adoration. "I love you," he blurts out, his voice filled with emotion. "I've never been good at this, with words… but fuck it, I love you, darlin'."

You make a small sound, a soft gasp that turns into a frown as your eyes mist up. You clutch your arms around his neck, as if your life depended on it, pulling him closer to you.

"I love you too," you whisper, your voice filled with emotion. "I love you so much, Joel."

In this moment, as you lay there in each other's arms, you know that you've found something special, something rare and beautiful that goes beyond mere physical pleasure. You've found a love that is raw, real, and passionate, a love that will last a lifetime.

Joel's fingers trace gentle patterns on your skin, his touch sending shivers down your spine. "I want to make love to you again and again, darlin'," he murmurs, his voice husky with desire.

You smile up at him, your eyes shining with love. "I want that too, Joel," you whisper. "I want to feel you inside me, filling me up with your love."

Joel's lips crash down on yours, his tongue exploring your mouth with a hunger that takes your breath away. You respond eagerly, your bodies moving together in a dance as old as time itself.

As Joel enters you again, you can feel the connection between you deepening, growing stronger with each thrust. This is more than just sex, more than just physical pleasure. This is love, pure and simple, a love that will last a lifetime.

"I love you, darlin'," Joel murmurs, his voice filled with emotion.

"I love you too, Joel," you whisper, your voice filled with the same love and adoration.

And as you lose yourself in the moment, you know that this is where you belong, in Joel's arms, surrounded by his love and affection. This is where you'll stay, for the rest of your life.

Having a man like Joel Miller relieve you of your virginity is one thing, but having him tell you that he loves you is something else entirely. It completes you, fills in the missing pieces of your soul that you didn't even know were there.

It changes you, transforms you into a better version of yourself. And it changes everything between you both for the better.

There are no more questions, no more wondering what if, no more chasing. Just the two of you, and you both feel it as strong as the climax he just gave you.

As the world slowly comes back into focus, you become silently aware of just how quiet everything is. The old house, the neighborhood outside, it all feels like something you've both left behind already.

Your bodies are still entwined, your limbs tangled together as if trying to become one. You can feel Joel's heart beating against your chest, his breath hot and heavy against your neck.

Having Joel Miller come back to town feels like a dream come true, and not just because of the mind-blowing sex you just had. It feels like he's here for you, to keep you, to lift you up and carry you off to the new life you both have waiting for you.

Neither of you says anything for a long time, content to bask in the afterglow and the moonlight of the night. You can feel the connection between you growing stronger, a bond that goes beyond mere physical pleasure.

As you lay there, completely sated and relaxed, you can't help but feel like you're exactly where you're meant to be. And it's in that moment of pure bliss that Joel's deep voice breaks the silence.

"Darlin'," he murmurs, his voice low and husky.

You jump a little, startled out of your peaceful reverie. But as you turn to look at him, you see the warmth and love in his eyes, and you know that this is no dream.

"Can I get you anythin'? You want somethin'?" Joel's voice, tinged with his Southern drawl, is like music to your ears as he gazes at you with a look that feels like it's etched into your memory forever.

"I think you just gave me what I needed, cowboy," you reply, a playful glint in your eyes as you exhale a long breath, feeling the lingering effects of your passionate encounter with him.

"I may never walk straight again, but I'm good," you assure him, snuggling close as he gently wraps one of his strong arms around you, pulling you into his warmth.

After a moment of blissful silence, a realization hits you, and you let out a low groan. There are things you need to attend to after such intense intimacy.

You quickly kiss Joel, mumbling about needing to freshen up and use the bathroom, waddling slightly as you make your way. Once you're done, you eagerly return to his embrace, seeking the comfort and closeness only he can provide.

"What is it?" Joel's voice is filled with concern as he notices the slight shift in your demeanor.

Your life before the sun rises is still out there, waiting for you both. Responsibilities and realities loom on the horizon, but in this moment, all you want is to be held by Joel, to feel his presence anchoring you in a world that suddenly feels uncertain.

He takes a slow breath, his arms enveloping you in a protective embrace, offering you solace and reassurance. Both of you are acutely aware of the depth of your connection, of the emotions that have been stirred between you, and the inevitable challenges that lie ahead.

As you lay entwined with Joel, the weight of the future pressing in, you find comfort in the strength of his arms, in the love and understanding that flows between you. In this moment, you know that no matter what comes next, you have each other, and that is enough to face the aftermath of it all.

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nehi-soda · 3 months

Text

Bedroom Ceremonials - Joel Miller x Female Reader No Outbreak AU

Explicit; Minors DNI 18+ only.

“You walk a fine line between god and animal

You’re just a feral dog I worship in bedroom ceremonials”

- Dog Days, Ethel Cain.

Summary: His warm eyes were now stormy with frustration and concern, raindrops clinging to his dark hair, and his chaahart jacket soaked through from the rain. He doesn't waste a moment before unleashing his pent-up emotions, his breathing ragged as he towers in the doorway.

"Where the hell were you?"

Word count: 3.4k

Warnings: P in V sex, ANGST, rough sex, smut, jealous!joel, established relationship, mention of violence (not directed at reader), alcohol, praise kink, dirty talk, size kink, makeup sex, oral sex (female receiving), au!joel, no outbreak!joel. Legal age gap (reader is mid 20's Joel is late 40's). No use of Y/N.

A/N: This is my first time writing any kind of smut or fan fiction. I just had to get some ideas out of my system. Joel is just so Ethel Cain coded.

As you step inside, the weight of the day's stress seems to cling to you like a heavy coat. It's been a rough day, and the unfamiliarity of your new job and home is only adding to your apprehension.

You can't help but feel a pang of longing for your dad's company, and you miss the comfort of having Joel just across the street.

You walk through the door, feeling like a soggy mess after getting caught in the rain on your way home.

Although you've been living there for four weeks now, the space still feels new. You do love it. You enjoy having your own space, being surrounded by your belongings, and having total control over the decor. Joel has personally assembled nearly all the furniture. No longer are you limited to just decorating your childhood bedroom.

However, you're still finding your feet in this new chapter of your life.

After dumping your bag in the hallway, you sigh deeply and release some of the tension that has built up in your neck. You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror - your mascara is smudged, and your hair is plastered to your face.

You quickly change out of your wet clothes and head to the bathroom to run the shower. As the steam begins to fill the room, you can feel yourself starting to relax.

You're already wrapped in your towel, pacing around your bedroom, when you grab your phone. It's been a busy day, and you haven't had a chance to check your messages. You see that Joel has sent you a few texts that you haven't had a chance to respond to.

Joel: hey baby, hope you have a good day at work x

Joel: hey, me again. Everything ok?

Joel: I figured you’re probably caught up in work stuff. Call me when you’re home.

As you toss your phone onto the bed, your face pulls into a guilty frown. You make a mental note to call Joel as soon as you're out of the shower, but right now, all you want to do is snuggle up in bed. Even though you crave to hear his southern drawl pour out of your phone's speaker like honey, exhaustion had taken over.

You head into the bathroom and swiftly lock the door behind you. You let out a sigh of relief as the hot water from the shower caresses your neck and chest. As you lather up your hair and body, you feel the day's stress slowly melting away.

Emerging from the shower, your hair still damp and clinging to your back, you tiptoe to your dresser and fish out a pair of checkered sleep shorts and an off-the-shoulder grey sweater, which you've cherished for years, proudly displaying "Texas" in bold across the front. You decide to complete the outfit with a pair of comfy cream knee socks for added warmth. They hug your thighs as you towel off your hair.

As you sink into the plush comfort of your bed and listen to the rain beating down on your windows, your thoughts drift to the soothing sound of Joel's voice.

You imagine the reassuring thump of his heart beneath your ear, the scratch of his unshaven jaw grazing the top of your head, and the comforting sensation of his work-worn fingers tracing hypnotic circles on your shoulders.

You yearn for more time with Joel, but it's hard to make it happen with busy schedules. He's been spoilt having you for nearly the entire summer break after graduating from college and now you both are feeling the strain.

Fortunately, he's devised a thoughtful solution - offering to pick you up after work to drop you home to squeeze in some extra quality time. Only this inevitably ends up with him just taking you to his house so he can tangle his fingers in your hair and fuck you senseless all night. Smart plan.

You wake up in his sheets, smelling like him. You always wake up first. You start to get ready for work, stealing glances at him sleeping in the sheets. Vulnerable and quiet. Such a contrast to his demeanour the night before when he gripped your hips so deliciously hard he left bruises, and pulled the fibres of pink tissue from your lips into shreds with his teeth.

You savour a warm cup of his coffee as marmalade sunlight seeps through the curtains, casting golden rays across his head like a halo. A glint of silver is growing up the side of his hairline. He thinks it makes him look distinguished, and you can’t help but agree. He loves to be so much older than you. He thinks it makes him wise.

You recall your fingers tapping against his bare chest like a spider's legs as you undo his flannel buttons one by one, revealing a glimpse of his toned torso from his physically demanding job. He listens intently as you ramble on about your day, content to let you have the floor. He's not much of a talker, but you don't mind. You love the way he watches you. His eyes glitter like a lake catching the glare of the moonlight, and he smirks when you get flustered. He knows the power he holds over you, and he lets it all go to his head.

He's a man of simple pleasures- clean socks and messy hair. He writes his name in the fog on the mirror from where he grabbed a fistful of your hair and pressed your face against the glass. The memory still makes you feel dizzy.

You believe he walks a fine line between god and animal, like a feral dog you worship in bedroom ceremonials.

Just as your saccharine memories of Joel have lulled you to sleep, you hear a loud hammering at the door. You jolt awake, panicked and disorientated, feeling like you’ve been ripped away from paradise.

Groggily, you fumble around the sheets for your phone, finding it still in the same spot where you tossed it earlier. Your eyes are still heavy with sleep; they peer at the illuminated screen displaying 11:11.

You see a barrage of missed calls from Joel. Your heart races as you wonder what could be so urgent. Then it hits you like a ton of bricks - you’d forgotten to call him….

You take in your surroundings- the deep blue hue of your room and the persistent pounding at your front door. You scramble out of bed and rush through the hallway.

You fumble with the lock and swing the door open to find Joel standing there, his gaze fixed on yours with an intensity you've never seen before. His warm eyes were now stormy with frustration and concern, raindrops clinging to his dark hair, and his chaahart jacket soaked through from the rain. He doesn't waste a moment before unleashing his pent-up emotions, his breathing ragged as he towers in the doorway.

"Where the hell were you?" he demands, his voice sharp and accusatory with a southern edge. “I've been callin' and textin' all day, and you couldn't even bother to respond?” He barges past you. The sound of heavy footsteps resonates through the living room as Joel paces back and forth. The tension in the air is palpable, hanging thick like the storm clouds outside. You watch him, tugging on your sleeves and shuffling your socks against the wood floor.

“Joel, I'm sorry. It was just a hectic day, and I lost track of time. I didn't mean to ignore you." You answer, still caught off guard by his unexpected visit.

His expression tightens, and he steps closer, invading your personal space. “Lost track of time? Or were you with someone else, huh? Is that what's goin' on?"

Your heart feels heavy with hurt. "Joel, no! I would never—" He cuts you off, his frustration escalating.

"Don't give me that. You've been distant lately, and now this? I'm not stupid. If you're messin’ around, just be honest about it.” The faint scent of alcohol lingers on his breath. Whiskey you guess. Tears well up in your eyes as you try to make him understand.

"Joel, I'm not cheating on you. It's just been a tough transition with the new job and all. I've been overwhelmed." Your heart pounding now.

He carries on prowling around your living room.

“What, you think I’ve been fucking one of my co-workers on the side?” you continue, struggling to focus on his face as your vision blurs from the tears.

His face is shrouded in the darkness of your living room. He casts a long shadow on your walls. “Overwhelmed or not, you should have found a moment to let me know. Ignorin' me ain't fair.” His words come out with a coldness that makes a lump develop in your throat. You nod, a tear escaping and trailing down your cheek. "You're right. I should have communicated better. I didn't mean to hurt you."

He sighs, running a hand through his wet hair. "Damn it, I care about you. I can't stand feelin’ like I don't even know where you are."

"Joel, please," you plead, trying to sound calm, but your voice comes out strained. You can’t help but feel pathetic. "Let's talk about this. I don't want things to be like this."

He halts his pacing, shooting you a glare that cuts through the air like lightning. "Talk? We've been needin' to talk for a while now. You've been avoidin' it”.

You take a deep breath; your lips tremble now. "I know. I've been caught up in everything; I don’t want to think about anything when I'm with you. That’s why I don’t bring it up.”

Joel's gaze narrows, his lips forming a tight line. The room feels charged with his lingering anger. He releases a sigh and his eyes soften slightly.

"I get it. Life can throw a whole mess of things at us; sometimes it feels like we're drownin'. But keepin' things bottled up and shuttin’ me out ain't the answer baby girl," he says, his Southern drawl carrying a touch of sweetness. You nod again the tears are now streaming down your face.

“I just… I don't want to burden you with my problems. I want our time together to be a safe space from all the chaos."

He lets out a heavy sigh. "Look, I ain't sayin' it's gonna be easy, but we can't keep playin' these games. I ain’t one of your lil’ college boyfriends, okay. If you got a problem, we face it together. That's what bein' in a grown-up relationship is about." His tone bites.

You nod again, a heavy weight settling in your chest. "You're right. I messed up. I want to fix it, Joel." The desperation in your voice echoes, and you feel like a rabbit pleading into the blinding headlights of an oncoming car.

He steps closer, his hand warm on your cheek as you lean into his touch. "I appreciate that, darlin', but we're in this together.” His words are unexpectedly soft.

"You're right. I shouldn't have shut you out,” you mumble.

His darkened eyes threaten to swallow you up as they gaze into yours. He makes you feel… nervous. His mere presence has this effect, leaving you feeling exposed as your emotions betray you, slipping from your eyes and staining your cheeks. In this vulnerable moment, you're reminded of how much he loves it when you’re so needy. The contrast between your sleep clothes and his work attire makes you feel small. You wonder why he hadn’t changed out of them before coming over?

Joel had been back from work hours before he arrived at your apartment. He paced anxiously in his living room with a glass of whiskey in his hand, work-worn jeans, and boots still on. He pours himself another whiskey and slams it down on the coffee table as his mind swims with thoughts of you with another man. Joel knew he was jumping to conclusions but how else could he explain your distance lately? He knew you were too good for him. He just knew how everyone turned to look at you when you entered the room. You were too damn pretty for your own good. His jaw clenched at the thought of another man’s hands roaming over your perfect body. His grip tightened on his whiskey glass before smashing it against the wall in frustration.

He storms outside into the rain to his truck.

On his way to your apartment his eyes are wild on the road, knuckles turning white on the wheel.

“God, you drive me fuckin’ crazy,” he hisses between his teeth. Joel's hands, calloused and strong, cradle your face delicately.

“We'll figure it out, darlin'. Together. No more keepin' things from each other. Deal?" His voice warm and husky.

You smile as he buries your face into his still-wet chest. "Deal." You sigh.

He withdraws from you and firmly holds your chin, trailing kisses over your wet cheeks. He finds your lips and presses his mouth against yours. He dips his tongue into your mouth and you let out a soft moan. He tastes like whiskey.

Joel switches his grip from your chin to the back of your thighs as he lifts you in his strong arms. You feel his muscles flexing, and your legs instinctively wrap around his waist as he carries you towards your bedroom. When you’re in his arms you’re convinced that nothing in the world could harm you.

Your heart races against your chest as he navigates the familiar terrain of your room. He places you gently on the bed, and the mattress yields to the shape of your body. Joel hovers above you, his eyes locked onto yours, dancing a shade of midnight. The soft illumination of moonlight casts shadows on his face, emphasizing the strong contours of his nose and face.

You can hear the muted sounds of rain outside, the creaking of the bed beneath you, and the rhythmic cadence of your breathing.

Joel's hands, now free from supporting your weight, shed his soaked jacket. You peer up at him as you work on your own sweater and discard it over your head. Your skin erupts in goosebumps with the exposure of your breasts. Your chest rising and falling steadily, nipples puckered like rosebuds. His eyes skate over your body with glint of hunger. You snake your hands underneath his shirt. He gets the idea and pulls his shirt off too.

You pull him closer into you with your legs as you writhe around underneath him, heels digging into his lower back. He leans over you, trailing open-mouthed kisses along your jaw and neck. Profanities escape his breath as he ruts his hips into yours. The undeniable hardness beneath his jeans becoming more prominent.

His kisses are now nips, blooming blue and violet markings along your throat and collar bone. You grip at the roots of his hair, and extend your neck further to give him some extra room.

“Joel, please,” you wimper as you throw your head back into the bed.

He hums against your throat, and it sends tingles down your body.

“I want you,” you continue to whine.

You feel him grin and pull back. He shuffles himself off the bed and kneels on the floor. You take a hard swallow as he works at the waistband of your shorts and pulls them off along with your panties in one swift motion. He runs his hands along your knee socks playfully.

“These can stay,” he declares with a deep voice that reverberates across the room.

His head is low and in line with your bare throbbing pussy. You chew your lip as he settles down between your thighs.

His hot breath ghosts across your needy clit as he holds your thighs in place.

He starts sucking on your clit and your eyes roll to the back of your head. Little breaths escape your mouth.

“Fuck Joel.” You let out, gripping at the bed sheets.

He continues working at your clit. His beard on his chin pressed firmly against your entrance. The scratch is almost sore but mixed with the waves of pleasure emitting from his lips, you don’t care.

“Jo- Joel,…I-,” you can no longer string a sentence together.

“Use your words baby,” he mumbles against you.

"I-I don't even… want you to e-eat my pussy. I just… want your c-cock in my pussy," you whine, eyes pressed shut. Head thrown back in ecstasy.

"Huh? Well, what do we say when we want somethin’?" Joel teases, glancing over you, observing your growing distress.

“P-please,” your lips quiver.

“Good girl.” He coos, shifting to stand over you like a phantom in the dark.

You hear the clink of metal as he undoes his belt and unzips his jeans to step out of them. He returns to the space between your legs reaching into his boxers to free his cock. The head looks angry and is leaking precum. He leans over you, and lines up to your entrance and pauses.

“Are you going to be good and answer your phone when I call?” He spits. A sheen of sweat forms on his skin, making his hair cling to his forehead.

“Huh…yeah…. I’ll be g-good I promise.” You moan, desperate for the stretch of his cock.

He slides into you, and you can't help but gasp. You're always so surprised by his sheer size. You wince as you try to adjust to accommodate him inside you.

“Ah…fuck.” He grunts, slowly building momentum in his thrusts. “Always, so tight for me baby.”

Your mouth falls open as the familiar swirl of your release is already growing in the pit of your stomach. Your nails carve small crescents into his sides as you clutch onto him.

Fuck, you needed this. You needed the stress to be fucked out of you.

More mumbles and moans slip from your mouth as you’re rocked into the bed, becoming more and more cock drunk.

“Such a good girl takin’ all of me.” Joel grits. His southern twang stronger when he's all riled up. His thrusts hit deeper, hitting a spot inside you so delicious it threatens to push you over the edge.

You pull your legs up higher around him, your hands cradle your toes just to give you something to cling onto. He felt like he was splitting you open. Filling you to the hilt.

The filthy sound of the bed creaking and the slapping of skin filled the room.

His hand moves to clasp around your throat, and you blink up at him, pupils blown out wide.

"Tell me you're my lil’ slut.” he spits.

"I-I'm your lil' slu-slut,” you cry out, your words catching in your throat.

“um…yes, you are darlin’, and don’t you forget it,” Joel whispers darkly in your ear.

“Now cum for me.” He grunts.

“Cum-for-me-prin-cess.” Each syllable punctuated with a hard thrust. His hips meeting yours. You were definitely going to feel it in the morning.

You feel your climax edging to the forefront and his words are enough to send you spiralling.

“Joel-fuck!” You pant as your muscles pull taught in your stomach, and your legs shake.

“That’s my baby.” He encourages you past the point of no return and you sink into your orgasm. You grip his cock tight like a vice and it’s too much for him. His orgasm spirts out hot. His cock pulsating inside you as he collapses his head into your neck.

“Oh fuck, baby, so good!” He exclaims- emptying his balls into you. You feel his spent spilling inside.

He peels himself off you and pulls out with a wince. You feel so painfully empty without him buried deep inside you, occupying every one of your senses.

He pulls you into the duvet and holds you close. You feel his warmth seeping into your bones. You both lie there with ragged breaths and oxytocin coursing through your veins. With a gentle touch, he swipes some stray hairs from your face as you nestle into his chest panting.

You lie there for a while watching the raindrops race each other on the windowpane, each tiny droplet leaving a fleeting mark on the glass. You can hear the steady beat of Joel’s heart under you. You were wiped out, eyes beginning to flutter closed.

In the quiet of your little cocoon, the minutes stretch like molasses until Joel breaks the comfortable silence.

With his arms wrapped around you, he whispers, “We'll face whatever comes together, darlin’," and plants a gentle kiss on your forehead. You feel his warmth and love, and you know that you're not alone.

divider credit to @saradika

#joel miller x reader #no outbreak!joel miller #joel miller smut #tlou fanfiction #joel miller au #joel miller one shot #tlou #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female oc #jealous!joel

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fooled-around-and-fell · 11 months

Note

Hi, could I request Joel Miller and reader fighting A LOT, and then reader saves his life by risking her own, but Joel thought it was so reckless and started scolding her. And then she just shut him up with a kiss and IT WORKED. And now he doesn't know what to do.

Love your work!

a/n: of course! hope you enjoy this 🖤 i may have changed the part where he doesn't know what to do lol

Warnings: cursing, kissing, making out, suggestive.

Masterlist

"That's 1 for me, and none for you." Joel smirks, watching as you kick your clicker aside.

The bet was 'who could kill a clicker first'. Winner gets... well, the title of a winner. You and Joel are just very competitive individuals, who for some reason need to prove yourself to the other person.

Normal people would call it flirting, but you and Joel curse out whoever dare accuse you of such heinous acts.

"God.. get a room." Tommy mutters.

"Shut up, Tommy." You glare.

Maria chuckles, leading the group back to the base. "Why do you always push their buttons?"

Tommy shrugs. "They look cute flustered like that. Look, Joel won't even know how to talk to her now."

It's true. Every time someone says something along the lines of "y'all look good together", Joel does not know how to act. Yes, he curses them out, but then gets quiet with you.

"So," Joel mutters. "Wanna wrap this up and grab a beer?"

You get on your horse. "Are you buying?"

"I make my own beer."

"Gah, no thanks then." You say, though you know damn well that you'll take that beer in a heartbeat.

He rolls his eyes. "You're impossible."

A smirk makes its way up to your lips when you see another abandoned cabin nearby. "Tell you what Joel, let's go for another round. Cabin at your 10."

"Yeah?" Joel looks at the cabin. "Are we bettin' for something real this time?"

"How 'bout you bet for a date?" Tommy chimes.

"Shut up, Tommy." Joel glares at his brother.

Maria chuckles at Tommy's little jabs towards the oblivious couple. "We're going to checkout that cabin tomorrow anyway, so go knock yourselves out. But be careful, it's getting dark out."

You raise your eyebrow at Joel, who looks doubtful.

"Scared you're gonna lose, Miller?"

Joel scoffs. "Careful there, sweetheart. You don't wanna tease me."

You and Joel take a turn towards the cabin, Tommy and Maria riding ahead. The cabin seems to be in pretty good shape, no sign of clickers. Until of course, you spot the ominous amount of blood seeping through the back door.

"That amount of blood," you whisper to Joel, "Gotta be a big animal. Maybe a horse."

"Or just a shit ton of humans." Joel adds.

As if things can't get worse.

And it does.

The sun's setting, but you can hear the sound of a clicker inside. You're sure it's just the one. You and Joel both agree that you should finish this quickly. Usually, a more silent approach is preferred, but since there's only one clicker, it can't hurt, right?

Joel kicks the door open and you make your way inside. The clicker's already running towards you, but with quick work, Joel shoots it down like nothing.

"That was easy." You comment.

"Too easy." Joel frowns. "Looks like it's two-nil, sweetheart."

You're about to roll your eyes when you catch a stalker unlatch itself from the wall and about to attack.

"Joel, watch out!"

You push Joel aside and let yourself get pushed down by it. Your arm is preventing it from getting close to you, and you shoot it dead. Joel kicks the stalker away from you and help you up.

"Fuck." He checks for any bite marks. "Tell me you didn't get bit. Or a-any scratches-"

"I'm fine, Joel-"

He checks again, and sighs in relief once he found nothing. "Why on earth would you do that?"

You frown. Still in shock, but Joel's comment shocks you more. "I just saved your life."

"No one asked you to." He quips. "You could've died- worse, it could've bit you."

"Yeah, it could've bit you, Joel." You say. "That's why I stopped it."

"You were reckless." Joel scolds.

You scoff. "You know what, let's just head back. I'm done having this conversation with you."

You try to stand up, only to almost fall. It seems like you've sprained your ankle when you taking the fall. Hoping Joel didn't notice, you slowly make your way to your horse.

But of course Joel notices.

"What's wrong with you?"

You glare at him, "I said, I don't want to-"

"No, what's wrong?" He frowns. "You're limping."

"..It's just a sprained ankle." You mutter.

And despite Joel's lack of hearing in his right ear, he picks that up perfectly clear. He hops off his horse and helps you get on yours before tying your lead to his.

He doesn't say anything else for the rest of the ride back home.

Once you've arrived at the stables, Joel picks you up and gets you down from your horse before you can do it yourself. The only problem is that he's not putting you down.

"Joel, I can walk by myself."

"The hell you can." He mutters.

You sigh. "Put me down, Joel."

"Can you quit fussin' around?" He frowns. "You're heavy."

You look at him in disbelief. "Put me down right now. No one asked you to carry me."

He fully ignores you. Once he's sure that the horses are good, he leaves with you in his arms, back to his place. All the while, you're still demanding him to put you down.

"Joel, honestly." You sigh again. "People are staring."

"You'd rather walk to your house with that sprained ankle?" He questions, "I know you're in pain."

"It's barely a sprained ankle." Lies.

"Probably just sore." More lies.

Joel sets you down on his couch and goes to get an ice pack. You took this chance to stand up and make your way towards the door - which, obviously, with your sprained ankle, you can't do very fast.

"Jesus Christ," Joel sighs. "Can you just sit down??"

You huff and sit back down. There's no winning against Joel now.

Joel kneels in front of you and takes off your boot. He examines your ankle and sighs. You won't be able to walk properly for the next 4 to 6 weeks.

You're in severe pain, but you're not about to let Joel know. You can see that your ankle is badly swollen, and when Joel tries to move it, you hiss in pain.

"You really shouldn't have been so reckless."

"Joel, please-"

"No, cause what if you'd gotten bit?" He looks at you. "I'd need to-" He doesn't even want to think of what he'd have to do.

"It's just a sprained ankle, Joel." You tell him. "I'm fine. I can handle it. I've been doing this just as long as you have."

He shakes his head. His face is all kinds of worry. Despite being so sour and sassy all the time, Joel actually has a soft heart. It's what draws you to him. He's very caring, he just hides it.

"All, I'm sayin' is, next time, just let me handle it, alright?" He says.

"Ugh, Joel-"

"No," He interrupts you. "I don't want to hear it. You keep doing this and I keep worryin' about you-" he rambles on and presses the ice pack on your ankle.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow!" You wince.

"See? This is why you-"

"Oh good God, just stop." You grab his face and kiss him before he can lecture you further.

Joel drops the ice pack and his hands find the back of your neck. Your legs spread and he places himself between them, pulling you closer to him.

There's a need of exploration and urgency. You don't even think about taking a breath because you don't want this to end.

"Joel." You moan softly when he pushes his tongue. His hands softly squeezes your waist and the other inching closer to your inner thigh.

You try to take charge, but Joel's having none of it. His hand travels up to your neck and gives it a gentle squeeze, reminding you who's in control. He smirks when a gasp escapes you.

You might've started this, but Joel is definitely winning.

"Too much for you, sweetheart?"

You're both left breathless. Touching Joel again feels electrifying, yet somehow the world surrounding you feels like a blur. It's making your head spin, and you want more.

Joel chuckles at your state and presses the ice pack on your ankle again. You moan out in pain, resting your head on his shoulder.

He smirks and whispers in your ear, "Save your moans, babygirl. You're gonna be doing a lot of that tonight."

a/n: I hate that I can't write smut :(

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x female oc #joel miller tlou #tlou #pedro pascal #the last of us #tlou joel #joel miller fluff #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal tlou #joel x reader #joel miller fic

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corazondebeskar-reads · 5 months

Text

you know you never stood a chance - chapter six

you know you never stood a chance series

six: hold me like a grudge

series masterlist | prev chapter | next chapter

qz!Joel Miller x f!reader

Words: 2.6k

Summary: After a tense situation, you reunite with Ellie and Joel.

Warnings: dub-con due to power imbalance, free use, sex as payment, vaginal sex, cum eating, Joel is mean/bad with feelings, this is not canon compliant, no use of y/n, degradation, canon-typical violence and danger, description of injury, spanking, pussy spanking, rough oral (m receiving)

also on ao3

dividers by @saradika-graphics

When the grass outside rustles underfoot, you flinch. You’ve been there for a while, long enough that the adrenaline started to seep out and leave you shaking in its wake.

The only reason you don’t shoot when you see a shadow is that Ellie takes the risk of speaking first.

“Hey, is that you?”

It’s so quiet, so careful. A sick part of you wants to stay silent, to hope they leave. But you’re forced to reckon with Joel’s evaluation of you: you’d never survive out here on your own. Probably wouldn’t even make it back to Boston, and then what? Get shot by FEDRA trying to get back in?

“Ellie?” you whisper back.

“Hey, Joel!” Ellie starts to yell, stopping when you shush her loudly from the garage.

You move, stepping closer to the frame where you can see her before moving into the light. She throws her arms around you, and you freeze, holding the gun pointed to the grass, too afraid to move.

“I know he’s an asshole, but don’t do that again,” she scolds, brow furrowed.

You’re thrown off guard but feel a rush of affection for the girl. “Sorry,” you say.

Joel comes out of the house from the back door and glowers at the two of you. “Inside,” he barks.

You follow behind Ellie as she rolls her eyes and prattles on about a large stick and what he should do with it.

He shuts the door behind you, clearly having scoped out the whole house before Ellie found you. He turns to her. “Upstairs.”

“What?”

“Upstairs, now,” he snarls.

She goes to protest but catches your eye.

“Please,” you say. You don’t want her to witness whatever he’s about to say to you.

When she’s gone, he rounds on you. “What the fuck were you thinking?”

You stare at the floor, lips twisted as you fight the urge to lash out.

He lifts your chin with his hand. “Huh? You listening to me?” He huffs out a laugh. “Clearly not, or we wouldn’t be here right now. We got one fuckin’ rule, do you remember?”

When you still don’t answer, he shakes your chin a little, jostling your jaw and drawing your glare to him.

“Well?” he says.

“Yes.”

“What is it?”

“Do as I’m fuckin’ told,” you mimic his drawl, poorly.

This wasn’t your first time out. After that night, when he fought with Tess, he dragged you with them on a supply run. It was fairly standard shit. Before you left the QZ, he had armed you—for appearances only, he reiterated, don’t touch those unless you’re gonna be ready to use them—and then told you the rule.

And you listened. Same shit, different place. He said drop, you’d drop. He said run, you’d run. Mostly, you just kept a nice resting bitch face in place so their contacts wouldn’t know you were an easy target.

“What am I gonna do with you, huh?” he says, still holding your face in place. He tugs the revolver from your other hand, not that you resist, and shoves it in his waistband.

“Just leave me here.”

“Shut up.”

“You asked me a question.”

“Yeah, and I expected a real answer, not a stupid one.”

You move to kneel, but he grabs you.

“Not a bad idea, sweetheart, but you gotta watch that ankle.”

The thought gives him pause, and you watch apprehensively as he considers things.

“We’re staying here today. You’re gonna rest that fuckin’ ankle, and we’ll get back on the road in the morning.”

Ellie is thrilled to discover you’ll be taking the day off in a place with real beds. She finds some old sudoku books and pencils and hangs out in “her” room.

True to his word, Joel makes you stay in bed all day. Your foot is propped up on a stack of pillows. You sulk, but he brings you a couple of books to choose from, a bottle of water, and some cold soup, just like getting sick back in the old days.

Actually, it’s a little too much like the old days. It makes you want to run. Instead, you let the historical nonfiction novels lull you in and out of a hazy sleep.

He comes to get you after nightfall. Ellie’s sound asleep, and he brings you into the room he had staked claim to.

“You ready to say sorry?”

“I’m sorry, Joel,” you mumble.

“What were you thinking?” He asks again. He’s softened since this morning, to your great relief.

“I’m tired of being your burden.”

“Is this ‘cause I don’t get to fuck you?”

“No. I mean, sort of. It’s bad enough that I can’t pay you out here. But then to be a risk, to create more trouble than just being a mouth to feed…”

He’s quiet for a minute. “Lay down on your back. Head over here,” he gestures to the end of the mattress.

The abrupt change is exhausting, but you do as you’re told. Once you’re lying there, head draped off the edge of the bed, he reaches down and takes his cock out. He has to bend his knees a little, being just tall enough over average to not quite fit together, but he slides into your mouth.

It’s so easy this way for him to press right into your throat.

You try to pour out your excess emotions, the residual fear, the relief, everything by finding purpose through his dick, but he pulls out when you try to get a hold of him.

“Not this time, sweetheart. You want me to take what ya owe me? Fine. I’m gonna use your throat as a fuckin cocksleeve.”

The words shouldn’t please you, but they do. The catharsis of the relief, the elation at being useful, and his touch all send you trembling.

“You better not cum,” he warns. “Not until I’m fillin’ ya up.”

You want to argue that he’s already filling you up, but a) he’s absolutely not in the mood, and b) well, he’s filling you up, so you can’t really speak.

Instead, you do the only thing you really can do. You lay there and take it. He lets you curl your hands around his thighs, holding on so you don’t go scooting up the mattress during the more aggressive thrusts. It lets you stabilize your head and tilt to an angle that grants just a little more air.

It’s rough in a way he hasn’t been before, which is saying something, but it’s also transcendental. Maybe you’re being dramatic, but you’re in the fucking clouds. You’ve never felt so light, so peaceful.

He pulls out abruptly, fingers squeezing the base of his cock as he pants. It’s still so close to you, so you use his legs to push upward and try to get it back in your mouth.

He swats at your cunt. “Quit it.”

You moan, the pain turning quickly into a tingle that spreads across your lips and clit. It worked, though, and you back off, now dangling half off the bed, only supported by your palms against the thick trunks of his thighs.

He scoops you up, an arm under each of yours, and pushes you back up on the mattress. “Hands ‘n knees,” he says.

You’re still feeling a little weird, so when you’ve gotten into position, you drag a pillow over and nuzzle your face down into it, arms threaded under it to hold it against you.

“You’re all cockdumb now, huh?” His hand traces over your lower back. You moan, a quiet, rumbly thing, and press back toward him.

He smacks your ass. “Hold still, pretty girl. Let me open you up.”

You don’t do more than drool and moan as he works his fingers into you, stretching you to ease his passage. His other hand stays on your lower back like a brand, an anchor. When he pulls his fingers out, he licks them clean before guiding his cock to where you’re dripping and aching for him.

He pushes in slowly, and you arch your back under his broad palm. He pushes you back down against the bed, hand settling between your shoulder blades and another wrapped in your hair.

“Stupid girl,” he grumbles. “Foolish little brat.”

Tears well up. It’s so much. Everywhere he touches you is past ignition, already licked clean by his flame, ash smoldering in the wake.

“Quiet,” he hisses, and you realize the soft little sounds permeating your dream were your moans and gasps. You bite your lip hard, face screwing up at the pain, but it works.

He doesn’t like that, though. He lets go of your hair and sighs, pulling out just to roll you onto your back before plunging back in and picking up the pace to take you apart. He pushes his thumb into your mouth, groaning as your teeth sink into the dry and calloused flesh, tethering you to the earth.

The sound of his hips slapping against you should be a bigger concern, but that would mean stopping or slowing down, and he doesn’t see that as an option. Instead, he watches as your blank eyes blink up at him, wet and wide, and your lips wrapped around his thumb.

“Christ. You really just need your holes filled, and suddenly, ya know how to be good. Fuckin’ slut.”

“Your fault,” you choke out, the words slammed out of you by his aggressive pounding. “Wasn’t—b-before.”

You wish you hadn’t said anything when he laughs again, dark and pleased with himself.

“Yeah, you’re right. Only a fuckin’ whore for me now, huh?”

Finally, finally, he touches you when he’s getting close, tugging the thumb from your mouth to rub the wet pad of it against your clit.

“You ready, sweetheart? Gonna cum on my cock, make me feel good?”

You whimper, nodding. “Yes, Joel, please.”

He works you to it until you break down, clenching around him so tight. He has to make himself pull out, his sex-addled brain screaming for him to bury himself deep in you. Instead, he covers your stomach.

You’re shaking through the aftershocks of your orgasm, and he rubs at your clit until you give him another one. It’s easy, you fall right apart, and then you’re practically limp, breasts heaving with the effort to breathe steadily.

He swipes a finger through his mess and brings it up to your mouth. You suck it clean, and he does it again until he’s fed you most of it. You take it each time, sucking and licking his finger, and watching him with wide eyes.

“You’re so fuckin’ sweet like this. Why can’t you just listen this good all the time?” It’s said softly, fondly, but it cuts you deep. He stands up, stretches, and leaves the room without another word.

You start to cry, burying your face in the pillow and holding your breath so he doesn’t hear. You’ve gotten good at this, over the decades, of choking down your weakness and swallowing it whole, letting it rip you up inside rather than out, so by the time he’s come back in the room, you’ve quieted.

You rub away any lingering tears with sleepy fists and a yawn.

“You think you can sleep with your ankle propped up?” he says when he crosses the room.

You nod, one fist still over your left eye, which won’t stop stinging, and sling your legs over the side of the bed, sitting up.

He catches your shoulder. “You’re stayin’ right here. Lay down, and I’ll set it up.”

Slowly, you settle back onto the bed. He must really not want you to walk on it if he’s going to trade rooms. Maybe the injury was worse than you thought.

The rest of his cum has dried, leaving a tacky residue on your stomach. He doesn’t wipe it clean, though; he never does anymore. Not worth wasting the water over, you think.

That’s what he tells himself, too.

The gentle hands you remember from so long ago have returned, delicately arranging pillows under your leg. You twist your top half to thank him, only to find him pulling back the blanket to slide into bed beside you.

It’s fully dark, now, when he presses a kiss into your hair and settles on his back beside you. Even through both of your shirts, you can feel the warmth of him where your back presses to him. He doesn’t hold you, but the closeness is enough to let you drift off to sleep.

The sun breaks through the bedroom windows before the birdsong wakes you. Joel is already awake when you roll over. This time, he does sneak his arm beneath you, pulling you to his chest.

You can’t breathe, too afraid the movement will fully wake him up. He’s never, not once, given you this much of him. You idly wish he hadn’t, because how were you supposed to live without it now?

“This is a nice quilt,” he says, shattering the silence before you work yourself into a panic. “Shame we gotta leave it here.”

“You get the stuff, and I’ll make you one when we get back.” Your voice is muffled in his shirt, too tense to pull away and properly look at him.

“Didn’t know you could sew.”

“I’m a woman of many talents, Miller. Sucking cock, basic sewing, annoying the hell outta you…” Aw, fuck. End of list. Oh well.

He chuckles, and you hate the way you can never tell if he’s laughing at your joke or laughing at you.

You fall back into quiet again, and when you think he might have dozed back off, you relax a little, letting your head find a home in the hollow where his arm meets his chest. “I’m sorry,” you whisper to his t-shirt.

“I know, sweetheart. Look, when we get home, if you want to leave, I won’t stop ya. But not out here. Not like this.”

“M’not leaving. I got a quilt to make, remember?”

He leans down and kisses the top of your head, resting that way for a moment with you drawn close.

Of course, the peace doesn’t last. Ellie bursts through the door, boundless energy as always, sending your already-racing heart into overdrive.

“—room is empty; what did you say to her? Couldn’t you just have been nice?”

Joel waits, staring at her blankly. You, however, have buried your face in his side. You’re both fully dressed, and there’s no evidence of anything, but you know she’s not stupid.

“Oh, ew, god, come on! What the fuck is wrong with you?” She’s backing out, pulling the door behind her, but her disgust carries down the hall.

Joel tilts your chin up with a curled finger. “At least we know she didn’t hear any of the other times I fucked ya.”

Your cheeks are on fire, and you can’t look him in the eye.

“It’s not like she walked in on us,” he teases.

“She’s never going to talk to us again,” you groan.

“She’ll get over it. If not, you can give her the talk.”

“Oh no. No, you can handle that.”

“Let’s let the Fireflies handle that,” he decides, scrubbing at his beard with one hand. He gets up, groaning. “Should make it to Bill’s today, even if we go slow.”

“Joel—”

“I know you’re not about to argue with me, right?”

Your mouth twists into a scowl, but you soften when you look up at him. The sun through the window is bathing him in yellow, and his brown eyes trip up your heart like they always do.

“No,” you say with a sigh. “I’ll follow you.”

He stops you before you leave the room, two fingers under your chin. “When we get to Bill’s, I’ll help you add another thing to that skillset of yours.”

“What?”

He hands you back the revolver you had stolen from the garage skeleton. “I’ll teach ya how to shoot.”

next chapter

*title from "Hold Me Like a Grudge" by Fall Out Boy

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x oc #joel miller x female oc #joel miller x f!reader #the last of us fic #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #you know you never stood a chance series

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joelswritingmistress · 5 months

Text

You Scare Me, Professor Masterlist

Summary: The reader is taking graduate classes at a local university in the wooded upstate New York. She is drawn to her professor, Dr. Joel Miller, though she is also inherently aware that he has something dark about him that she can't quite put her finger on. As the reader's attraction grows deeper, she has to decide whether to endure the danger or run away as fast as possible.

PRELUDE

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

Chapter 54

Chapter 55

Chapter 56

Chapter 57

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mountainsandmayhem · 29 days

Text

Happy Easter, Joel Miller

18+

Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Summary: Joel’s secret sweet tooth inspires a little Easter surprise.

CW: 18+, MDNI. Food play. Praise. Oral (f! Receiving), Established relationship.

AN: this is absolutely not edited or proof read. Just enjoy it, ok! Haha.

Not that he would ever admit it to anyone, but Joel Miller LOVES chocolate. He has secret stashes of chocolate hidden around the house and in his work truck.

Easter brings his favourite chocolates - mini eggs. The candy coating crunches and then you get to that delicious milk chocolate middle.

“God damn, I love you.” He says to a handful of mini eggs the Saturday night of Easter weekend. And that’s enough to spark a surprise for tomorrow.

Sunday afternoon, Joel heads off to do his usual routine. He likes to wash his work truck and stop at the store for waters and Gatorade for his crew cooler. In the 40-ish minutes he’s gone you race to melt some chocolate and then make a trail of small foil wrapped eggs to the kitchen.

You strip down to just a pastel coloured thong and climb up onto the table. You place more eggs around you and then when you hear his truck pulling onto the driveway, you drizzle warm melted chocolate along your body.

A line up one thigh, a curved line from one hip to your ribs in the other side. Drips along the swell of your breasts. As he opens the door you lay back on the table and wait.

“I’m back, babe.” He calls as he toes off his boots. “Oh, chocolates!”

He sounds like a little kid and you giggle quietly at how fucking cute this broad and grumpy man can be sometimes.

“What’s going on here babe?”

You laugh and yell, “follow the trail. There’s a delicious surprise at the end.”

You hear him padding along the hardwood floor. Your body breaks out in goosebumps as you wait excitedly, chocolate covered nipples turning into stiff peaks. As he comes around the corner he sees you. His eyes go wide, mouth dropping before a devious grin crosses his face.

“Oh fuck. You look….fuck…” rendering him speechless is your favourite thing to do. You bite your bottom lip while smiling up at him from the table.

“Hungry?” You say mischievously.

Joel’s gaze goes from awe to pure lust as he stalks over to the table, planting his strong hands beside you and leaning his face close to the chocolate across your stomach.

He practically growls, “Fucking starving, babygirl,” before laying a long, warm lick across your stomach. He laps up all the chocolate, twirling his tongue and kissing until it’s clean. You’re writhing under him as he moves to the chocolate along your arm.

“Mmm, so sweet and soft.” He hums before moving to the melted deliciousness that’s coating your hard nipples.

“I think you’re enjoying yourself,” he says through kisses down your heaving chest.

“Please, Joel,” you moan, your hand going to rub your clit over your thong.

Joel grabs your wrist to stop you. “Not yet, baby. Gotta get you all clean first,” he sucks one nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue to clean it. Your back arches, a sign that you want more. “You’re so amazing.”

Once it’s clean he rolls your wet nipple between his thumb and forefinger and moves his soft lips to your other nipple. He suckles on that one gently while pinching and pulling the other.

“Oh god, that feels so good, Joel.” That familiar fire starts in your belly and you start to wonder if you could cum from just him teasing your nipples.

He bites down gently, pinching the other with equal pressure and you cry out in the perfect mix of pain and pleasure. After letting go he peppers your breasts with feather light kisses.

“I need you, Joel. Please,” you whine, canting your hips towards the air.

He walks to the head of the table and sits in his chair. His voice comes out like dark molasses as he says, “Slide down to me, baby.”

You prop yourself onto your elbows and shimmy down the table to him. He sits back, eyes watching the wet spot that’s soaked through your light thong.

“She’s needy,” he says deeply.

You slid until your ass is right at the edge of the table, him between your legs. He has chocolate on his beard and corners of his lips and you fight the urge to lick it off.

“I’m going to clean off this thigh. And then slide that sexy little underwear to the slide and give your beautiful puffy pussy what she needs.”

You nod and chant ‘yes please’ like it’s a church prayer. He uses his teeth and tongue to clean your thigh and the second it’s clean he pulls your panties to the side roughly, you make eye contact for a brief second, his eyes practically obsidian with lust before he dives in.

Immediately sucking your needy clit into his mouth, the rough tip of his tongue flicking it passionately.

“I’m gonna cum,” you cry.

He releases your soft skin with a pop. “Already?” He smirky cockily, three fingers now teasing your entrance.

“Please Joel.” Your voice is a needy whine as your body jerks and twitches under his attention.

“Ok, my love. Stay still for me. Let me get my fingers in,” his voice is calm and commanding. You slow your breathing and let your knees fall open further as he works his thick fingertips in. “That’s it. Good girl. Make room for me.”

“Oh shit. More. Please. More.” You close your eyes and get lost in him and the euphoric state he’s putting you in.

“There she goes,” he says as his fingers push all the way in. He curls them forward and you feel it immediately, your orgasm right on the edge. He sucks your sensitive bud back into his mouth and you’re done for. Pleasure ripples through you as he pumps his fingers and flicks at your clit.

Between licks he mumbles praise into the velvety skin of your pussy. “Good girl. So beautiful. That’s it.”

As you come down from your high he slides his fingers out of you and then stands up, lifting you into his arms and walking to the bedroom as you wrap your legs around his waist.

“Happy Easter, Joel Miller,” you whisper into his neck.

==========================

Taglist:

@rainstorms-library @sullyrocky44 @keylimebeag @pimosworld @pedritoferg @paleidiot @lorilane33 @jessthebaker @pedroswife69 @javierpena-inatacvest @pedroshotwifey @mermaidgirl30 @littlevenicebitch69 @syd-djarin @untamedheart81

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wildemaven · 9 months

Text

Fall Apart, Again - Series

Pairing: Joel Miller x OFC!Genevieve

Rating: M, 18+ Blog

A seemingly happy life, slowly beginning to fall apart at the seams, only to have a fungal outbreak rip every last bit of it away from you at once.

21 years after the outbreak, you’ve pieced back together a semblance of new life, making do with the world around you. Until your past comes back to haunt you— you’re left to fall apart, again.

Playlist / Inspo Board

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Interlude - A Letter to Joel

Chapter 4

#Joel Miller #joel miller x original character #joel miller x ofc #joel miller x you #joel miller x female oc #joel miller x female reader #pedro pascal #wildemaven writes #the last of us #tlou

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chaotic-mystery · 1 month

Text

Code Red Chapter Eight | I Could Fly Home, With My Eyes Closed

Pairing: No outbreak AU dbf!Joel Miller x f!OC (told in 2nd POV)

Summary: Everything's going good with Joel and your life, but is it almost too good? What happens when you put Joel on the spot about taking a vacation together?

Content Warnings: SMUT, 18+ only blog MDNI. Enemies to lovers, dads best friend Joel, age gap (readers in her twenties and Joel is in his forties), slow burn, strained father/daughter relationship, daddy issues, swearing, arguing, mentions of anxiety and how that feels, angst, showering with Joel, hand job, dirty talk, morning sex, penetration (p in v), pet names (Joel refers to himself as daddy and you call him that as well), worshipping, fantasizing about eating you out at work, power dynamic, reader smokes. (If I've missed anything please let me know!)

Authors Note: I'm back. After some long thinking I decided it would be best to change Code Red from a reader insert to a female OC told in 2nd POV. There's just too much in here that adds to the story and dynamics for it to continue to be a reader insert while also being a blank slate. I want to reiterate the reader IS NOT physically described in any way other than having hair long enough to push away from the face. There's an underlying personality that I want to add and explore more and I hope you guys love it just as much as I do. Thank you always @pedgito for beta-ing for me, I love you. I love you all and thank you for the constant support on this. || wc: 5.3k || notif blog || ao3 ||

Every night for the past few months you were staying late at work with Joel to help him sort through the blueprints Tommy left out all over the place during the day. Joel’s hands rest on your shoulders as you sit at your desk, typing up some paperwork so you don’t have to worry about it later.He leans down close to your ear and ever so softly glides his lips over the shell of your ear.

“Can we go now, baby? S’getting late and I need to get some food in my belly.” A soft kiss to your cheek makes you smile, face growing warmer by the second.

“Just one more and then I’ll be done, I swear it.” You chuckle and squirm away, trying to type as fast as you can. His lips motivate you to keep going and soon enough his hands follow, dragging up your sides and stopping right over your wrists.

“No, no more. It’ll be here for tomorrow.” Your chair spins around and you become face to face with Joel.

“Mmmm I’m not too sure if my boss will like that.” You joke.

A grin fights to spread on his lips. “Yeah, baby? Since when do you care about making me upset?”

“Since always.” Bullshit. You make him upset for the fun of it. The way his brows knit together and he gets that frown, arms crossed over his chest. He looked so good when he was mad.

He reaches out his hand and pushes back on your chair to make it recline the closer he gets to your face, a small hum coming from his mouth. Menthol and tobacco tickles your nose as Joel leans in as close as he can before touching his plush lips to yours. You can almost taste him. You need him so badly.

“You’re not a very good liar, sweet girl.”

He finally closes the gap between you two and his tongue immediately wants access to your mouth which you happily oblige. Pulling him closer as if he was going to disappear, you run your fingers through his dirty curls at the nape of his neck. He was your drug and by god did you need every single ounce of him. Soft grunts come from between his lips which causes you to smirk between kisses and makes you wonder how far he’d let this go right here at your desk.

Just as you grab his shirt to pull it from where it was tucked in his jeans, Joel laughs and pulls away slightly, just enough to look at you.

“Come on, let’s go home.”

Home.

What he means is your house, but home slipped out so effortlessly. Like clock work he’d drive you two back to your shared neighborhood and he’d grab clothes from his house and usually something to read, either the farmers almanac or a magazine from the gas station, and come over to eat dinner with you before you hole up for the night and relax. It was only on nights Sarah wasn’t home and with her mother, as she had no idea about her dad dating the cool neighbor to the left of them. You respected the idea of him not wanting to tell her yet. The feeling always came back to you late at night when Joel was asleep in your bed with soft snores coming from him, always reminding you how wonderful he really was. Joel would never put Sarah in the position to constantly have women coming and going in her life, confusing her every single time she’d come back to his house and learn her dad was no longer with his girlfriend. Alan on the other hand, was good at making your life feel like a revolving door, no stability, no good people around besides what little family of his he tolerated. Joel is the complete opposite of him and how they’re friends, you’ll never understand.

✮

You toss your purse onto the counter as Joel locks the deadbolt on the front door before he kicks his boots off onto the mat and groans tiredly as his feet rest flat on the hardwood floor. You grab a glass from the cabinet above your head to pour yourself a glass of water to go with your fries from the diner you just left. Joel looks at you with a puzzled expression on his face as he walks over to you.

“What are you doin’, I thought you were full?”

You put a fry in your mouth and look at him before answering.

“No, but I noticed how tired you were and I didn’t want you to wait on me to finish so that’s why I asked Pearl for a box. No big deal baby, it’s fine.”

Joel's face drops as he starts to understand why you did what you did.

“Baby…” He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose before continuing, “please don’t do that.”

“Do what?” You question with a mouth full of french fries and look at him confused. You weren’t seeing an issue with what you did but it was clear Joel was feeling differently.

“This. Don’t rush yourself and not finish eating because you think I’m annoyed you’re taking too long or whatever may be the case.” Joel checks his tone and makes sure he’s not coming across as mad, but concerned.

He steps in front of you and grabs your face, thumb smoothing over your cheek slowly as he looks at your eyes.

“As corny as this is gonna sound, I'm gonna say it anyway. I will always wait for you, doesn’t matter what Im waiting on you for. If you’re eating I want you to enjoy your food, not look at me and think you gotta finish the rest at home because you think I’m gonna get mad at ya. Take your time, okay? I’m not going anywhere. Promise.” His attempt at reassuring you ends with a kiss to your forehead and his arms wrapping around you tightly until you’re against him with not an inch between you two.

Your throat tightens with the need to apologize for doing that, as if you’ve done something wrong.

“Okay…I’m sorry…” You mutter against his chest.

“It’s fine, honey. I’m not mad at ya. Tell you what, why don’t I go shower and then we can watch a movie. How’s that sound?” You kiss him in agreement and Joel gives you a tired smile before he walks towards the bathroom with his clean clothes in hand. Time ticks on and it feels like eternity before you hear the water start and the shower curtain close and you couldn’t help but want to sit in there with him and just be near him. He made you finally feel comfortable in every aspect of yourself to allow yourself the small things as such.

You walk over to the bathroom door and clutch the crystal door knob to give it a turn and open the door just enough for you to slip inside. Steam whooshes past your face and the smell of your cucumber melon body wash fills your nose and you can’t help but smile at him smelling like you, never gets old.

“What’re you doin’ in here?” Joel hollers in a playful tone as he lathers his body with soap.

You rest against the sink with your arms folded over your chest and for a second you think about ripping your clothes off to join him. You must’ve been taking too long to respond, suddenly your face was sprinkled with water to snap you back to reality.

“You just gonna stand there and be silent or are you gonna get your ass in here?”

That was all you needed to hear. Your clothes were on the floor before he could finish rinsing the stress filled day off his body. Joel turns around to the back of the shower and looks at you kind of surprised, not thinking you’d really join him in the shower. He switches spots with you and your eyes flutter shut with the trail of warm water running down your body until you’re covered in it.

“Do you want me to wash your back for you, honey?”

You think for a moment and answer Joel truthfully.

“Not at the moment but um…I was wondering if you’d hold me? Just for a second and then I’ll wa-“

Joel stops you by wrapping his arms around your torso from behind and giving you a light squeeze to let you know it’s okay.

Nothing mattered in that moment besides him in that ugly green bathroom you hated so much, with his arms wrapped around you as if he’s won the lottery or something. To him he did, he definitely won.

Joel, trying to be as much of a gentleman as he could be, starts to inch his fingers down your hip little by little, tugging you closer against his groin.

“You’re so beautiful. Fuck I’m so lucky to even be this close to you.” He kisses your shoulder and continues speaking.

“To touch you.” A kiss between your shoulder blades.

“To see your bratty ass sitting so pretty at that desk at work…bet you didn’t even know you make me so hard I have to distract myself with something else before I do something I’ll regret.” His teeth ever so slightly graze your earlobe before he spins you around to face him.

You open your eyes slowly and decide to test him a little more.

“Like what? What would you do that you’d regret?” Smoothing over his sides beneath the warm water, you kiss his chest and hear his breath shudder, distracted from giving you a polite version of his answer.

“To take you to the bathroom stall and eat your pussy until you’re screaming against my hand on your mouth, begging me to stop.”

“What makes you think I’d let you get that far before I’d get my hands on you?” You retort. Joke was on him, you’d never let him get ahead of you like that before you got your way with him first.

Still, you wanted to play this game with him. Before he could respond, you lean up and kiss him roughly, your hand traveling down his stomach until you bump his cock, already half hard just thinking about having you in such a predicament.

A moan chokes out from Joel as if he’s been holding that one back forever and you can’t help but get into how much power you have over him, regardless what he says. Each stroke to his cock from your wet hand earns you a louder moan than the previous one, his hand reaching down desperately to cup your ass, water splashing against your feet harshly.

“F-fuck baby, jus’ like that. My god-”

You hook your arm on his shoulder to keep him still as you go faster and kiss his neck, more and more moans pouring from his soft lips like honey. Joel’s knees begin to buckle a little and you smirk in the crook of his neck before biting the skin just enough to make him wince.

“You’re so fucking hard, Joel. Dirty old man, thinking about eating me out at work. Tsk tsk tsk.” Whatever he’s been doing to you over the past months was giving you this new found confidence to be a dirty talker and a little dominant even though you were the biggest brat he’s ever crossed.

Joel’s eyes squeeze tight as he takes in your words mixed with your hand curling just right over the sensitive tip.

“O-old man, huh? But you wanna suck this old man's dick, don’t you?”

He got you there, you wanted to do more than that.

“Maybe, maybe not.”

“What did I say earlier, honey…you’re not a very good liar.” He moans out and you pump his cock faster, hoping it would keep him from talking.

Just as his groans echoes off the tile of the shower walls, you hear tires on the gravel driveway outside. You both stop in your places and turn to look out the small window above your head and notice your dad’s truck in your driveway.

Fuck.

Immediately you shut the water off and throw Joel’s towel at him and tell him to stay in the tub before you close the curtain on him and wrap a new towel around you from the closet. Hastily you begin to run around your entire place trying to grab anything that remotely looked like someone else was here with you. Joel’s boots sitting by the front door catches your eye and you bend down to grab them, hearing your doorbell ring. A big clunk comes from the boots hitting the closet floor before you close the doors and you can see your father’s shadow in the frosted glass of your front door.

Fuck.

Three loud knocks to the glass pane makes you jump and you holler loud enough for him to hear outside, “One second! Hold on!” You run to your room and throw on a robe quickly before making your way back to the door with the fabric tied tightly around your body.

You open the door to face your dad’s back and he turns to face you.

“Bad time?” He dryly asks.

“N-no, I was just getting out of the shower. Not trying to be rude but what are you doing here? It’s so late and I didn’t know you knew where I lived…” You close the collar on your robe more as the wind breezes past, sending goosebumps down your already anxious body.

“I uh, I didn’t. I came to see Joel but he’s probably asleep, didn’t answer…and I noticed your car over here, didn’t know yall were neighbors.” He breathes in sharply as if he’s offended you didn’t share that with him.

“So do I get to see the place or not?” He half asks as he’s trying to step inside before you give your answer. Noticing how pushy he’s being, it’s clear something is bothering him but he won’t spit it out.

“No it’s really messy in here, I’ll invite you back though, promise.” You hold the door against your side tightly, foot behind it to keep it still. The awkwardness lingers while he processes you telling him no, something he’s never been able to understand when it comes from you.

Tongue in cheek, he nods a little disappointedly and steps backwards to the railing of the porch.

“S’okay. Didn’t think you’d want your dad in your space anyway, I get it.” There it was. The same sad sob story he always gave, his favorite card to play the second you didn’t turn into his puppet like you used to as a little girl.

“Dad-” you begin, “-it’s not like that, I swear.” Your head falls as you can feel yourself getting more and more upset by the second. Nothing good is going to come from this, from him knowing you live here. Next to Joel.

“Did you find a new job yet? The girls down at the bar keep talkin’ about how everyone around here knows about the little fight you caused months ago and now no one wants to hire ya.” The nerve he had to come over here, thinking you’d be chit chatty at almost eleven o’clock at night, just to hear how those bitches down at the bar that don’t even know you, tell your dad about his own daughter.

Speechless, you stand there with a growing lump in your throat that acted as a net and stole every single word that you attempted to choke out.

“I’m just saying, it doesn’t look good on me.”

Unbelievable.

Blood boiling like water on a stove, you sigh loudly and stand straight up, ready to tell him exactly what you were thinking.

“I have a job now, thanks. I’ve had one for a few months now, actually. Thank you for coming over here and insulting me and telling me what the girls at that grimey fucking bar think of me. I really appreciate it, dad. Goodnight.” You slam the door and lock it before he has the chance to open it and knowing him he would. Within seconds your heartbeat begins to race and your head gets dizzy, Joel takes notice and he’s clothed now as he comes from around the corner. There’s no room to care that he heard every word of what just happened, you can’t get air into your lungs fast enough and you look panicked at him.

“J-Joel I-” You clutch your chest and glance around the room quickly.

He rushes over to you and cups your face, muttering something to soothe you but you can’t make out what he’s saying.

“I-I’m gonna go sh-shower.”

“Baby, are you okay? Do you want me to come sit in there with you?” He asks but everything seems so muffled over the beat of your own heart that hasn’t slowed yet. You wander towards the bathroom and shut the door behind you, locking it without answering Joel. Warm tears glide down your cheeks as you start the water once more and step in, your cold body shivering under the now hot water that feels like it’s going to melt your skin off.

Why would he say that? Surely he defended you to them, right? As a father, he could not have just sat there and let them talk about you like that, no way. Anyone in their right mind would never let someone talk about their daughter in such a manner but this was your dad, and he wasn’t a regular dad.

Trails of water run down your back and you stand in silence with a hand over your mouth to muffle the sobs you started to let out. You couldn’t tell if it was tears or water from the shower coating your face anymore.

✮

The sunlight slowly begins to pour into your bedroom, mourning doves singing faintly as they sit in the trees. As you lay there with Joel snoring on his back next to you, you couldn’t help but replay the night before. Your dad knowing where you live, especially next to Joel, wasn’t something you ever planned on sharing. Deep in thought, you didn’t even notice Joel stirring awake next to you until you’re engulfed by his arms wrapping around you and tugging you into him.

“Good morning, baby.” He mumbles in your ear and nuzzles into your neck, eyes still shut. His favorite thing to do as soon as he’s awake is to pull you close and have a cuddle before you get up for the day, but today felt different. The house was silent but there was this unmentioned tenseness you didn’t talk about from last night and you weren’t even sure if he did hear everything your dad said to you.

Failure. An embarrassment. How long before Joel soon started to see you that way?

“Hey…you’re doin’ too much thinkin’ before you’ve had coffee. What’s the matter?” Soft kisses to your cheek snaps you out of it and you try to shake it off.

“Nothin, it’s nothing. Do you want pancakes or waffles for breakfast?” You sounded like you were trying to convince yourself more than you were Joel.

“I want this. Just stay like this a little longer.” Joel presses more kisses to your shoulder and trails them over your chest until you’re on your back, tucked under him snugly.

“You don't really want that.”

Joel scoffs and dips his head under the covers to soon place his mouth on your stomach. “It’s exactly-“ he pecks your skin, “-what I want.” A low groan vibrates against your belly and you laugh slightly from the tickling sensation as your fingers manage their way into his soft bed head.

Hooking his index and middle finger in the waistband of your panties, Joel starts to trail his mouth down your abdomen and bites at the blue cotton fabric covering your growing aching heat by the second.

“You’re so beautiful, you know that?” Joel kisses your clothed pussy before dipping his fingers inside right to your clit. Slipping against his fingers makes you moan in his mouth and press your body against his enough to make your nipples brush against his arm.

“J-fuck-Joel, please fuck me, god damn. Fuck me.” Your whiny pleads only make him finger you in more of a teasing manner, changing speeds and styles sporadically against your desperate attempts to fuck yourself against him. His mouth falls open to bite your earlobe while his fingers toy with your entrance.

“You want daddy’s big dick inside you, hm? Use your manners.” His left hand comes up to rest on your windpipe as he kisses your lips.

“Please, please please, daddy, please fill me up.”

Everything was different this morning, even the sex. He felt more gentle with his actions, not wanting to throw you around like a ragdoll this time and it was a nice change for you.

With a swift move Joel shucks off his basketball shorts and runs the tip of his cock through your folds, coating himself in your arousal as his lube.

“That’s right, such a good girl for me.” His finger swirls slowly on your plush lips before going inside your mouth, pressing down on your tongue softly. Like muscle memory, you suck his finger and bite down firmly when he puts his cock inside you, the pressure subduing rather quickly when you adjust to him.

Quivering warm breaths hit your neck as Joel buries his face into you. Moaning and groaning echo off your bedroom walls and you feel Joel nibble on your neck trying to get you to moan louder for him.

“Yesss oh my god Joel, just like that please.” Your slurred words go quieter as his hips slam into you, but it wasn’t the normal rough sex. The passion was through the roof and he wanted to make you feel worshiped.

“You’re so good to me baby doll, so damn good to me.” His husky voice is like liquid velvet in your ears and you can’t get enough. Joel’s name flys from your mouth with every other curse word you can rattle off as you start to feel that burning sensation in the pits of your belly. Arms wrapping around his neck and nails clawing at his back, your legs close around his waist subconsciously, trying to get him deep inside you as you could. It felt too good to let him sit up and pound into you, that’s not what you wanted.

Chasing that orgasm, Joel starts to whimper in your ear everything you want to hear, squirming on top of you as he made it his mission to make you come before he did and he was putting in the work. Joel’s mouth around your nipples, biting and sucking for moments at a time before he goes back to your neck, then back to your nipples.

“Cmon, jus’ like that. F-fuck, baby-ughhh-yes, I-I-” His words fall short on your lips as they connect, tongues dancing in the middle together.

“I-I love y-you” was the last thing you heard before coming on his cock thrusting deeply inside of you and with a few more pumps, Joel was shooting warm ropes of cum inside you.

Panting underneath him trying to catch your breath, you smooth the curls at the nape of his neck and whisper, “I love you too.”

I love you.

Of course you wanted to say it months ago, hell, you’ve been waiting to say it since he defended you that night at White Pony. Being with him for the last eight months was nothing short of trying. You butt heads like no one’s business and throw little comments at each other under your breaths and he doesn’t take your shit, as do you his.

I love you.

It sounded so good coming from him.

I love you.

✮

Seeing Joel all fucked out and snoring softly in your room with pink sheets and pillowcases surrounding him makes you laugh quietly to yourself, the most southern man you’ve ever met who wasn’t afraid to sleep in a hyper pink room. He always tells you it’s the best sleep he can get but you’re convinced it’s just your mattress he loves.

A knock on your front door makes you jump slightly. A Saturday morning and someone knocking on your door? Probably the neighborhood kids playing around. Pulling on your black sweatpants and a clean shirt from off the floor, you slink down the stairs and open the front door to a bouquet of roses sitting right at the edge of the stairs.

What the fuck?

Small rainbows casted onto the wooden porch as the sun shined through it, roses dancing ever so gracefully in the breeze. A card poked through the bubblegum pink bulbs and you could feel your anxiety growing from something you were unsure about. Not many had your address but now that your dad knows where you live, who knows what shit he’d pull.

“Miss you, baby girl! I’m so proud of you for doing what’s best for you. Hope these get to you when you need them the most.

-mom”

She always did have a good intuition of when you needed her the most. You dip inside without making too much noise to grab your cigarettes and lighter from your purse sitting by the coat rack, closing the front door softly to assure Joel wouldn’t wake.

Warm tobacco fills your lungs to take the edge off your anxiety and for some reason you couldn’t stop feeling like you needed to go see your mom. She had a cabin out in Michigan right in South Haven near the beach, private and secluded just how she always wanted, that you never grew tired of being in. It’s been years since you’ve got to go due to work and moving all over the place to get away from your mistakes that seemed to follow no matter where you went. Texas was safe, for now at least.

The slowly burning cigarette was getting towards the end and you crushed the butt against the sidewalk before flicking it into the pebbles by your bushes and groaning at yourself mentally, knowing Joel will see it and give you an earful later about doing that.

Why shouldn’t you go see your mom? You had the money saved up and it didn’t seem to be too hard to get your boss to agree to give you the time off. Your feet move as fast as they can back inside the house to the counter to set the flowers down and then upstairs to Joel in your bed, sound asleep on his stomach with his face barely visible behind his bicep of his arm tucked under the satin pink pillow.

Climbing on top of him and basically straddling his ass, you pull the covers off him and rub his back slowly, dragging your nails up and down his skin softly. A couple of mumbles leave his lips as he stirs under you, his other arm reaching backwards and squeezing your leg just enough to realize it was you.

“Mmmmbabyyyy whasthemaddur?” His cheeks squished together distort his words but by this point you were fluent in half asleep Joel language.

“I need to ask my boss something but I don’t know what he’ll say.” You giggle and kiss the top of his back and lay your chest on him, your arms at his sides comfortably. His heart was beating faster with every rise and fall of breath he takes in.

“I was um…I was thinking ya know…I want to go see my mom, in Michigan.” You looked in his direction before continuing. “And I was wondering if I could get maybe a week off? Pleaseeee.” You drag out the last word and start to kiss his back more in hopes he’d comply and give in faster. Was Joel really prepared to tell you no?

He turns his head the opposite way and coughs as he wakes up more, chuckling at your attempts to butter him up.

“You, my favorite worker, want a week off? To go on vacation? The nerve!” Joel’s dramatic tone takes you by surprise and you continue kissing his back trying to contain your laughter.

“She lives in Michigan? Must be pretty nice there on the lake- never been but I’ve been to Chicago a few times, real pretty out on the water.” The softness in his voice makes your heart swell a little and before you can stop yourself you ask flat out, “what if you came with me?”

Joel turns to the side and dumps you onto the bed before sitting up to look at you.

“What?” The smile was long gone now from where it was mere seconds ago on his face.

You push the fluffy comforter out of your sight and meet his eyes.

“Come with me. Let me show you around Michigan and you can meet my mom, maybe.” Everything felt right, it felt like the right time for Joel to meet your mom, having been together for eight months now.

Joel fiddles with the loose thread coming from the cover and you start to get that anxious feeling again.

“I um…I can’t, darlin’...I’m sorry. I just-” He stops but he doesn’t know how to continue, so he doesn’t attempt to say more for what felt like eternity. “With Sarah and everything I can’t, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, I get it.” Your voice cracks and you sit up facing the wall to hastily wipe your face and pretend like that didn’t just break your heart a little.

✮

A couple weeks pass and it’s been awkward between you and Joel since he shut down the idea of meeting your mother. It wasn’t like you’d be around her the entire trip but he didn’t give you a chance to explain either. Maybe that was too far for his boundaries.

With your flight booked and your bags packed sitting by the front door, Joel had been distant at work and didn’t stay for long when he’d come over after work. Was this your punishment for trying to grow with him?

As you dragged your luggage to the driver you booked, you notice Joel’s truck gone from his driveway and your heart drops in your chest. Not even a goodbye, see you when you get back, nothing.

You get in the back of the car and drive to the airport with tears stinging your eyes. You’ve officially scared him off and he wants nothing to do with you now.

His phone rings four times before you get his voicemail, that voice is like music to your ears.

“This is Joel, I uh- I can’t come to the phone right now but leave me a message I call ya back- bye.”

The recording beeps and suddenly you’re speaking exactly what you’re thinking.

“Joel…it’s me. I um-“ your voice cracks, a tear rolling down your cheek, “-I’m on my way to the airport right now…I just wanted to say bye. I walked over but you weren’t home even though I told you when I was leaving. Why are you doing this to me? I don’t understand…”

The tears were flowing down your warm face, the driver nervously looking in his rear view mirror to check on you. You hang up the phone angrily before tossing it in your purse. What once was a beautiful view and lovely drive became a cry fest and blurred by tears.

Within an hour the driver pulls up to the airport and helps you with your stuff, telling you to have a safe trip before driving off. So many couples littered the building inside, scattered off to the side either reuniting or departing, some leaving together. That should’ve been you and Joel. Ugly airport outfits and coffee in hand, laughing at the delusion that riddled your tired brains.

You plop down on the bench near your gate and pull out your book, the faeries and mortals making it seem so much better than here.

“You gonna read the whole time we’re in Michigan or?” That fucking voice.

Joel.

You practically break your neck to turn and look at him, a filthy smirk plastered on his face.

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#joel miller smut #joel miller x female oc #pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller x you #chaotic-mystery #code red #the last of us #dbf!joel #dbf joel miller #enemies to lovers #enemies to lovers joel miller #pedro pascal joel miller #the last of us fanfiction #cw daddy issues #cw daddy kink #cw age gap

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netherfeildren · 11 months

Text

Someone's Wife in the Boat of Someone's Husband .4

Series Masterlist : Moodboard

(Joel Miller x F!Reader)

Content Warnings: Mutual masturbation; Come eating; Angst; Vague mention of abortion; Discussions of child neglect; Discussions of unwanted pregnancy

Rating: Explicit 18+

A/N: Some of this is so… phew… idk what came over me or how i come up with some of this shit. sorry (but not really). Joel’s a little nasty in this beware

Art is by Denis Sarazhin.

Word Count: 7.7K

Read on AO3

A single person is missing for you, and the whole world is empty.

Joan Didion, The Year of Magical Thinking

To think that despite his momentary acquiescence to your need for space, he was not, afterwards, made into a raving, snarling beast prowling its cage after having tasted you, would be fallacy – because that was what he was calling it in his mind, for now. Not yet ready to accept it within himself as a full blown rejection, so yes, for now, space, time.

He returns home with Sarah after the lakehouse – Eva gone off with her girlfriends on an extension of the weekend, wanting to draw out the farewell to summer just a little longer – to their routine of lunches and snacks and daycare and evenings playing mermaids and dinosaurs in the little pool in the backyard that he’d gotten for her at HEB. He tries to be good, to remain calm, controlled, but it’s just short of impossible. He feels as though he still has the taste of you on the surface of his tongue, the sounds of your moans ringing in his ears at all hours of the day, in bed at night, hard and aching and alone, wanting you. This turns out to be a different type of hell to the one he’s usually used to, that of monotony and loneliness and resentment. No, this is burning and painful, a type of fire that whips through his arteries and chars his bones and leaves him dizzy and disoriented.

He’s never experienced something like this before. Not in his entire life.

It is not easy, per se, but productive, to lose himself in his work, and the start of Sarah’s school year. She’s in a 3K program for the fall, her first time going to a real school, and the work and preparation and pure fucking anxiety induced at the thought of his baby going to such a big school is overwhelming. No small feat to accomplish all on his own.

But at night, after he’s worked himself into the ground all day, and read Sarah her bedtime story, at least three times, sometimes up to seven, but never passing ten, that was their very strict rule, and tucked her in and checked the closet and under the bed and behind the door for monsters, when he’s finally found himself alone and quiet and with a spare, but infinitely painful moment to think of you, he lets you in, in full force.

He pulls his shirt up over the back of his head, tossing it into the hamper as he passes his closet into his restroom, undoes his belt and jeans, pulling his contraband from the pocket, to push them off as he reaches to turn on the shower.

As he lets the water heat up, he pauses to look at himself in the mirror. Tall, long frame, still pleasing to a woman, he’d imagine. Well, he hopes so. He’s still strong, his shoulders broad, his chest built from the long hours of hauling and climbing and exhaustive physical labor. There are a few grays threaded through the dark curls at his temples. Sprouting, just in the last year, to remind him that he’s getting older. One of his buddies had told him that eventually everything went gray, everything. That weirded the fuck out of him, to be honest. He hates the thought of you seeing that, thinking of him as old. You’re so much younger than him. So pretty. Too pretty. His middle has gone slightly softer since hitting forty, but only slightly. There’s no helping that. And the small creases at the corners of his eyes… shit, he’s getting old. But his cock is still long and thick, and he’ll give that to you as much as you’ll let him. If you ever let him. All the time if he can. All he has to do is find a way to see you again, to convince you to let him see you again.

He feels a small bitter ribbon of self consciousness curl through his stomach as he takes himself in. He doesn’t want you to think of him as some old man. Some old, sleazy man who’d seen you and been so fucking desperate for you, he hadn’t cared that he was married, that you’re too young for him, that he has a family, and responsibilities and a life, like some pathetic fucking pervert. You’re just so lovely, so soft and pretty and you smell so good, always. And he’s been so alone for so fucking long. He is lonely. And you, you’d looked at him, you’d seen him, you’d wanted him back just as fiercely as he’d wanted you, even if just for a moment. How was he ever supposed to be strong enough to resist that? And further than your wanting, you’re good and kind and smart and so fucking funny and adorable. Joel could be strong when he needed to be, but he could also be weak, and he thinks that you, perhaps, have the power to make him weaker than anything else.

What do you do when you meet a woman, have a child, get married, and then find the person who you could very well fall, probably, very deeply in love with?

Because yes, even now, he is emotionally aware enough to recognize that. More than anything, he can recognize that he has, as of yet, never been in love, but that you present the great, great possibility for that. And yes, it’s too soon, and maybe nonsensical or crazy or what have you, but Joel has always been a man that’s known himself well. When he knows, he knows, and when he chooses, he chooses, and he is very close to knowing and choosing you.

He looks down at your panties laying on the bathroom counter – the ones he’d stolen. After you’d slipped them off, too wet from your come, from him making you come – they’re his now.

He runs his thumb and forefinger along the silk lace at the edge. They’re a pretty, soft blue. He loves the color blue now. It will, forevermore, be his favorite color after this. The cut in the back is high, he knows the soft flesh of your ass was left mostly uncovered by them, he remembers he felt it when you rode his thigh. He wishes he could have seen it. He hopes he’ll have another chance to see it.

If he thinks about it hard enough, he can imagine that the middle gusset is still damp from you. He brings them to his face, presses them to his nose and inhales deeply. The scent: still faintly musky, but also, slightly sweet. He sticks his tongue out to taste the fabric, and a violent shiver passes through him. He has to clutch at the countertop to hold himself upright. His cock is fully erect and leaking now.

He has to taste you. He has to get the chance to. He’ll die if he doesn’t. He’s sure of it.

He brings the soft lace down to his aching erection. He doesn’t care if he’s disgusting. He doesn’t care about anything. All he wants is to feel you. To temper this fire churning in his blood. He can’t remember the last time his body felt like this, the last time he wanted something this fucking badly he felt like he’d die if he didn’t have it. Maybe never – he doesn’t think he’s ever felt like this. He wraps your panties around his hard length and starts to jack himself off. Strong, tight strokes from base to tip with the tiny, blue silk sliding along his fevered skin. The sound of your orgasm, the look in your eyes as you humped his thigh, ground your little clit on him and soaked his denim. He should’ve touched you more when he had the chance. He wants to fuck you so badly, wants to sink into the tight, wet clutch of your cunt and fuck you full of his come. Mark you. Brand himself into your skin so that you’re never without him. He wants you to smell like him. He wants to feel the wet gush he felt on his jeans on his cock and dripping down his balls, and Jesus fucking Christ, he comes at that. Long, thick ropes of white spend, spitting from his swollen tip at the thought of your pussy coming around him, a desperate whimper escaping in the quiet loneliness of his restroom.

He thinks of you constantly, what seems like every moment of the day, in the weeks that follow. As much as he tries to keep a straight head on, he can’t. He craves you, dreams of you, fucks his hand to the memory of you coming for him, spilling his seed over and over again in the shower at the remembered look in your eyes and the sounds you made for him. He can’t help himself.

Outside of that, everything else in his life is bleak and slow and… and he doesn’t know what else to call it, except for sad and wanting. Lonely. To have touched something so alive, so beautiful and sweet and perfect, and then be forced to return to the barren landscape that is his life in everything outside of his daughter, it’s jarringly difficult to do. He wants to be strong, to do what you asked of him, but it had been so long since he’d really wanted something for himself. Couldn’t remember what the last thing had been, really, and so to now have something to desire, something to want and think of, it makes him weak and fills his head with all kinds of excuses to see you, to call you – he’d forced Tommy to steal your number for him out of Gerri’s phone – to go to your work and wait for you to come out, just so he can catch a single glimpse of you.

He restrains himself from that, though. He forces himself to focus his mind on other things, Sarah and school and playdates, and he works himself like a dog, taking on more contracts than he ever has before. He doesn’t give himself any time to rest, any time to think, and in the few moments that he does, when he stares at your number on the screen of his phone, imagining what it is he’d say to you if he called, if you answered, what the sound of your voice would be like saying hello to him, saying his name, or in the moments when he fucks himself raw and spent and sad, those are the moments when he feels weakest, when he feels most alone, when he’s almost overwhelmed with wanting.

He only lasts a measly three weeks after the lake house before he’s outside of the elementary school, one late Wednesday afternoon during the second week of the new school year. The sky is dark and angry, on the verge of a downpour, and he’s been waiting, agitated and anxious, for about half an hour, before you finally come out the double doors.

The lightest sprinkling of rain is starting up, and he jumps out of his truck’s cab, jacket in hand, to approach you. He says your name softly as he comes up on your side while you’re distracted, digging in your purse for something.

You jump slightly at the sound of his voice and turn your wide, worried eyes on him, “Joel–” your voice, soft and breathy, so sweet, “Is everything okay? What are you doing here? Is Sarah okay?”

He holds his hands up in what he hopes is an appeasing, non-threatening gesture, he doesn’t want you nervous. Fucking Christ, asking for Sarah with that look of worry in your eyes, “Everything’s fine, sweetheart,” how in the fuck is he supposed to not be obsessed with you? “I was just – I was just hoping we could talk, is all.”

You look around at the sparsely filled parking lot, as if searching for witnesses, or perhaps, an escape, but then you turn back to him and pause to take him in. He watches the sweep of your eyes down his body, and then back up, stopping to search for something in his eyes. Whatever you find there must give you the answer you need because you nod your head once, “Alright, we can talk,” you say softly.

“My truck? Can we drive for a bit? I’ll bring you back.” You nod again, and he drapes his jacket over your shoulders to protect you from the drizzle as he leads you to his truck. “S’bout to come down hard,” he murmurs as he opens the passenger door for you, taking your wrist in his hold to help you up into the truck. He can’t help himself, he reaches for your seatbelt and buckles you in himself – is filled with an obscenely embarrassing fizz of pleasure at the gesture of it.

You’re looking at him with the most concerned little frown marring the soft spot between your delicate brows, “Are you okay?” your voice slow and unsure, and then more of him being unable to help himself, to keep his hands to himself, because he reaches up and gently brushes his thumb over the little frowning wrinkle, nods his head once.

“I’m okay, baby.”

He drives for a bit, takes you to a spot up in the hills he likes to come to sometimes when he needs to think. Somewhere the two of you can be alone and quiet, just for a moment. He parks the truck by a copse of trees, a view of Austin on the other side of the two of you. The rain has turned into a violent downpour by now. He shuts off the engine and looks out at the view of the city.

“I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t bother you – you asked me to stay away, but –” He lets his head fall back against the headrest and sighs, and the sound of it is so weary, pained in a way that’s so very, very sad. It makes you hurt for him. You reach across the center console to grip his bicep, you can’t help yourself. You could see from the first look at his face that something was wrong. You know he wouldn’t have come to look for you if he didn’t need you now.

“You’re not bothering me. I know I shouldn’t, but I wanted to see you too.” You only confess this because of the look in his eyes. The glassy, burdened look of them. You wish that you could climb into his lap and wrap your arms around his neck, press your warmth into him. The rain hits the windshield like bullets, the sound deafening. The world outside of his truck’s cabin seems distorted, as if this liminal space the two of you sit in now, has been carved out of the rest of the real world, and the two of you exist here now, only, together. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothin’,” he wraps his hand over yours on his arm, drags his thumb over the smooth little hills of your knuckles. His gaze out the window is so far away, lost, something almost childlike in its desolation. You watch the strong ripple of his neck as he swallows, clears his throat. “Nothing – just wanted to see you. ‘Dunno… Felt so tired today.” He closes his eyes for a moment, “Couldn’t stop myself. Wanted to just give myself this one thing.” He lets his head roll against the seat to look at you, gives you the gentle curve of his crooked smile. So beautiful and so sad, and you can tell that something is endlessly wrong. You feel afraid, for one moment, that he’s going to start crying, the sadness in his eyes is so overwhelming. You don’t think you’ll be able to stand the sight of his tears, you think they might break you. “Just wanted to look at you, to sit here with you, just for a little bit.”

“Alright.” You’re quiet for a beat, watching him watch the rain. Part of you wants to give him space, give him quiet, but you need to know what’s wrong. You can’t bear the look in his eyes right now. “Did something happen?”

He’s silent, as if gathering his thoughts or his strength around him, and then: “Eva had a pregnancy scare this week.” A jagged shiver slices through you.

“What?” You croak, you try to pull your hand back, but he clamps down on your bones, holds you to him. “But I thought–”

He shakes his head, “Not mine.”

“Joel… what? Are– are you–” You blink furiously, at a loss. What do you say to the man who you’re kind of having an affair with when he tells you his wife, who is also seemingly having an affair, might be pregnant with another man’s child? This is all so, so fucked up. So ugly. You swallow, turn to look out at the rain. You don’t want to cry, but you can’t seem to help the tears from pooling. A bombardment of recurring images from your childhood slingshotting through your mind; your mother, leaving, angry, cold, quiet. Always pushing you away. The sound of her crying through her bedroom door, your child’s ear, pressed to the cool grain, trying to get as close to her as possible even though she doesn’t want you. Always shutting you out. Your father, dead to the world on the sofa in the living room, drowning in his liquor and yearning and hurt. The sight of a tall, handsome stranger, coming up the front walk to ring the doorbell, to take your mother away with him. The way he’d crouched down from his great height to ask you what your name was because she hadn’t even bothered to tell the man she was having an affair with, the man she was leaving you for, what your name was.

What is it about being unlovable, you wonder, and why is it that some are cursed with it so cruelly, while others are not?

“Hey,” Joel tugs on your wrist, pulls you closer to him. “I told you, we’re not like that, we’ve never been. I don’t want you thinkin’ somethin’ else, that I haven’t been honest.” He drags the pad of his thumb over your cheekbone, tips your head back to catch your eyes. You let them flutter shut and swallow, open them again. If you talk you’ll cry, but he needs words from you now. You swallow again, shake your head.

“It’s– it’s not that. I believe you. And even if it was otherwise, I have no right–”

“Stop. Don’t say that. You know that isn’t true. You have the right to honesty after what I’ve told you, after what we’ve done.” You try to pull back, but he brings his palm to wrap around the back of your neck and grip you by the scruff. “Stop,” he grits, “Don’t pull away from me.”

You bring your palms up to his chest, clutch at the collar of his shirt. “I’m not. I’m not, I’m sorry. It’s just–” you huff a sharp, bitter laugh, “Sometimes it’s like you’re just telling me the story of my childhood, over and over again. Like you’re living it again for me. This all sounds very pathetically familiar.” A tear finally falls, you can’t help it. A weeper in a long line of weepers, always.

“Sweetheart…” he brushes the track of your tear away with his thumb.

You shake your head. “I’m so sorry. Are you okay? Is she?”

“She’s fine. Took her to the doctor this morning.”

“God, Joel– I don’t – I don’t know how you do this.” Another tear. You think of your father, how weak, how broken he was after her. He could have never shouldered the things Joel does. You feel very sad, very sorry, for the both of them, as different as they are. You feel sorry for the whole miserable lot of you, really.

“She needed my help, she was scared–” his thumb sweeps a slow, hypnotizing path up and down the back of your neck. The rough callus on his thumb catches at your sensitive skin and makes you feel hot and sweaty and overwhelmed for the feel of it on every other tender place on your body. “Terrified, really. Of being trapped like that again.”

“Trapped?”

“Sarah was never her plan. Neither of us were. She never wanted any of this.”

“You told me the marriage wasn’t conventional… but I didn’t – I didn’t think Sarah was included in that…” Your stories are too similar, the similarities too painfully familiar.

“We met at a bar, it was–” he looks away, and you watch a hot flush flood his cheeks. He’s embarrassed to tell you this. “It was a one night thing. Her birth control failed, and then – it was just – well, ending the pregnancy was never an option for her, and I told her from the get go that I’d do whatever she wanted, support her in anything she chose. She chose to go on with it. So I asked her to marry me, it made sense, it was– it was the convenient thing. At least, at the time – in my mind, it seemed so. But we – we were strangers, there was no connection. And then… I don’t know. It wasn’t, eventually – it wasn’t the right thing, at all, for any of us. She never wanted to be a mother. She told me once, after, that she’d chosen wrong, she’d made the wrong decision. And I always tried to be supportive, but by that time, well – we had Sarah by that time, and I– I loved her more than anything I’d ever loved in my whole life. Didn’t even know it was possible to love anything that much – and it made me so fucking angry with her – to– to hear her say something like that, that she should’ve gotten rid of her. It was – I don’t know – a very complicated and painful thing – for the both of us to grapple with, I guess. But I–” he pauses, takes a deep breath. His eyes shift madly, looking out the window as if the rain will bring with it an explanation or an escape for whatever it is that’s churning inside his mind as he tells you this. “There was never really anything to be angry with, I don’t think. No real reason or focus for my anger. I realized it’s impossible to fault a person for not being what they were never meant to be. She never wanted this. And I hadn’t planned for it, it just happened. And the decisions we made were made, and then things just ended up as they did. Sometimes – I don’t,” he frowns, shaking his head, “I don’t know how to say it, but–” He turns to you now, a wild, pleading look in his eyes, “But how can I say that we made a mistake, without saying that Sarah was a mistake? Because if I’ve ever done a single thing absolutely perfect, in my whole entire life, it’s that little girl. She’s perfect. You know what I mean?”

You nod, swallowing back your tears, “Yes.”

He frowns at you, his eyes filled with infinite tenderness, “Don’t cry, sweetheart.”

“I’m not,” you lie, turning to press the back of your hand to your hot eyes. “I’m sorry. It’s just – it reminds me of myself, of my own mother. She – she was the same, I think. Never meant to be a mother. But not bad. It’s just what it was. And hearing you, hearing this, it makes me so sad for you, for all of you. I’m sorry.” He leans forward, wraps his hand around your jaw to press his brow to your wet cheek and just holds there. The two of you breathe each other in, match the cadence of your breaths to the other. You snake your arms around his broad shoulders to press yourself closer to him. It scares you, this feeling of necessity he forces out of you, like you need him, even this soon, for strength, for comfort, for happiness. You’ve never felt like this before, and it’s coming on so quickly, overwhelming you. You feel like you need him, and if you don’t have him you’ll never be happy for the rest of your life, you’ll never be able to forget him, to let him go. He shifts to nuzzle against your cheek and then your jaw, and then the hot press of his lips to the tender spot behind your ear. A violent tremble moves through you at the feel of his soft mouth against your skin, and you dig your nails harshly into his shoulders.

“I just– lemme just–” he mumbles against your skin, and then that hand wrapped around your jaw is turning your head and forcing your mouth open so that he’s kissing you, licking into your mouth and everything goes tight and painful and white hot inside of you. “Jesus–” he says against your mouth. He forces your head back to deepen the angle, his other hand coming up to fist painfully in your hair, and you whimper into him. His answering groan is deep and rumbling and so, so wanting. Your heart feels like it’s flipping and squeezing and pinching inside your ribcage. You can hear how much he wants you, this, in the cadence of the sounds he makes. The kiss is wet, sloppy, full of teeth and all the desperation and yearning of these past few weeks. The days and days of not seeing him, of remembering your encounter in that dark room at the lake house, the way he’d made you come against his thigh, the sound of his own orgasm, the inhibition, the flush in his cheeks as he spilled in his jeans for you. The desperate, pathetic nights of your cunt stuffed full of your fingers, so wet and aching and still not enough even though you’d made yourself orgasm multiple times at just the memory of him. You claw at his hair and neck and back, you want to draw blood, imprint yourself on him in some way, the same way he’s imprinted himself on you. He brings the hand in your hair down to your waist to press you closer to him. The center console digs painfully into your ribs and you want to climb over it and settle in his lap, but you know you shouldn’t, that if you end up over there you’ll let him fuck you, and that you’ll never come back from that. Not ever. He drags his hand up to your breast, grips the heavy weight in his large palm and squeezes, and it hurts and it feels so, so fucking good that you rip yourself away from his mouth, push at his broad chest to force him away from you. The both of you stare at each other, wide eyed and panting great, heaving gasps. His hair is sticking up at all angles, messy from your pillaging fingers, his eyes glassy and his cheeks flushed almost feverish.

Oh, you want him so badly. This will be your undoing.

“We– we can’t– I didn’t come here with you for– for that,” you gasp, pressing your fingers to your wet mouth.

“I know– I know– shit, we–” He passes a palm over his mouth, and you feel another tear slide down your burning cheek. You’re surprised you don’t see steam rise at the contact. “Fuck – fuck, baby, please. Please, don’t cry. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I didn’t mean to make you cry. I got carried away– ”

“I’m not crying– I’m not.” Maybe if you say it enough times it’ll be true. You turn to wipe it away on the hill of your shoulder, try to hide your face.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have touched you

“I wanted you to. I want it so badly,” you cry, squeezing your eyes shut tight. You feel inconsolable.

“I know– I know.”

You want him so badly, so badly, so badly, you want him to keep touching you forever. “It hurts, Joel. It hurts–”

“Jesus, what hurts? Tell me.” He leans forward, gripping your knee painfully tight, and you press yourself into the door at your back, “Fuck– is that sweet, little cunt aching for me? Tell me, baby.”

You nod

“Fuck, what if– what if we just – just watch each other? What if you pet your cunt for me, and let me watch? Just– just to make the ache go away? Would that be okay?”

You shake your head, unsure, but your hand is clutching his over your knee now, digging your nails into the top of his palm and letting him slowly push your knee open further.

His voice is so coaxing. Oh, he shouldn’t use that tone of voice against you, you’re powerless to it. “You can, it’s okay. It’s just to make the ache go away, it’s okay,” and you have no choice but to capitulate, no desire to not give in.

His palm on your knee slides up your thigh, pushing your skirt to bunch at your hips, and he hooks one finger into the side of your panties to pull them down as you lift your hips, allowing him to divest you of them. So easy, you’re so fucking easy, and you don’t even care. All you can focus on right now is the throbbing ache between your legs.

His eyes don’t leave yours as he says, “Spread your legs… that’s it.”

“Don’t– don’t look–” you stutter as you bring your shaking fingers to your core, and he’s leaning back to undo his belt and drag his zipper down. You can’t look either, you can’t, if you do, you’ll lose, you know it. You see the peripheral movement of him reaching into his clothes to pull the heft of his cock out, the shift of his upper body as he lifts his hips to readjust his pants to free himself. Your cunt is slick and throbbing, painfully swollen.

You watch the movement of his shoulder as he starts to jack himself, “Just your clit first, baby. Soft, little circles, yeah… how does that feel?”

“Good– good, yes.” You’re panting, mouth hanging open. There is fire in his gaze, all for you, only for you.

“Yeah? You need more?”

“Please, Joel–” You don’t know what you’re begging for, but you don’t think it’s for your touch alone.

“Give yourself one finger, sweetheart. Just one – tell me how wet it is? Are you soaked for me?”

You press one finger inside, and yes, yes, your’re fucking soaked for him, you say. He groans at that, the rhythm of his shoulder gets faster. “I have to look, baby. Please, please, I have to see how wet it is.” The tops of his cheeks are flushed red, but as you watch the downward shift of his eyes to your spread sex, the place where you’re impaling yourself with a single finger, his eyes flare, the flush seems to ricochet even higher, hotter. You pull your finger out to cup yourself, hide yourself, burning with shyness and lust, but fuck, the look in his eyes, it’s bright hot, devouring. No one has ever looked at you like that. Never.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he moans, “Put ‘em back in. Fuck yourself, make yourself come. I have to see it.” So fucking gorgeous, you hear him mutter under his breath, and you finally give yourself permission to look down as you stuff two fingers back into your desperate pussy. Fuck your rules, you have to see him.

He’s huge.

Thick and long, the size of his cock is not made smaller by the massive breadth of his fist holding it in a vice-like grip, jacking it, tight and fast. The head is flushed a deep, angry red, the slit at the top weeping a pearly stream of precum that makes your mouth water and the muscles in your pelvis tighten – you want to taste him, you want him to fuck your mouth until you’re forced to swallow his load. There’s a thick vein running up the entire length of the underside of the shaft that you’re sure you’d feel his pulse in if you set your tongue against it. He’s pulled his heavy balls out over the edge of his jeans too, and he cups them and squeezes.

“Spread yourself wider for me – yeah like that… Lemme see you stretch that cunt.”Oh, he’s so dirty.

You’re sucking in quick, shallow gulps of air, on the verge of hyperventilating as you watch his massive palm beat at his cock, almost dizzy with lust, your blood rushing in your head, your pussy sopping wet, tight as a knot. This isn’t enough, you want to stop, you want to go further, you want him to touch you, to climb into his lap, to take that heavy, thick weight inside of you and feel him stretch you to the point of pain. “Don’t look– you shouldn’t look–” you don’t know why you say it, maybe because you feel you have to, but it’s nonsensical when your eyes are glued to him.

“I have to look, baby. Please, don’t ask me that. I have to see it – fuck, you’re so gorgeous, look at you. Prettiest fucking cunt I’ve ever seen in my entire life.”

“Stop,” you moan, arching your back further to crook your fingers inside of yourself, hitching your knees higher to pet at the spongy, tender spot inside you that you’d like him to own. “St– stop– I’m– m’not your baby– don’t– don’t– oh fuck, I’m gonna come–” your eyes roll to the back of your head at the sound of his choked growl, his eyes glued to your stretched sex, the sounds of your wetness and his slick palm echoing in the truck cabin.

“You are, you are – even if you won’t let me touch you, won’t let me have you – you fucking belong to me now. Already, even like this – look at you, about to come for me with just my eyes on you.” His hips start to lift into his fist, his hand almost a blur for how fast he’s fucking himself, teeth gritted, tendons in his strong neck popping starkly under the surface of his flushed, sweaty skin.

“Fuck– fuck, it’s so pretty.”

“Stop– please, Joel, I need–”

“Wanna taste it and fuck it and fill it with my come–”

“Oh my fucking God–” you’re going to come, now, now, it’s right there. You tell him.

“One more finger – lemme see you stretch yourself… yeah like that… my good fucking girl,” grunted as you stuff a third finger inside and start to spasm, mewling high and desperate for him, grinding your clit against the mound of your palm. You want his cock to stretch you like this, and you tell him. The sound he makes at your desperate plea, as if it’s been ripped out of him, painful, desperate, savage. You watch the wide head flush an almost deeper shade, verging on purple now, and he squeezes the base cruelly, his sack fisted tight in his other hand, and he starts to come, a thick white stream of milky spend that makes your mouth water, sliding over his fist and spurting onto his exposed belly. “Oh God, Joel, I want it.” You can’t stop the words, the sight of his orgasm forces them out of you.

“I know, baby, I know. I want to give it to you,” he says through clenched teeth.

You both stay frozen like that for a moment as you come down, panting and staring at each other wide eyed and flushed and trembling. That was, perhaps, no, it was without a doubt, the most intense thing you’ve ever experienced with a man, and you’d barely even touched each other. Pain and pleasure coalesce to leave you shaking and sweating, your skin hypersensitive. You’re scared you’re going to start crying again and scare him, give him the wrong idea – that you’d not liked this, that you’d not wanted this. When the truth is that nothing could ever compare to how much you wanted, needed it. How much you’ll want this forever now. You want to take him inside of you. The sheer force of your desire almost has a flavor, a shape to it. The strength of it, so potent, it is almost made sentient – a living thing.

You pull your wet fingers out, and he snaps forward suddenly, to snatch your hand towards himself and brings the slick digits into his mouth, his tongue laving hot and wet between the spaces, sucking on them. All the while his eyes are zeroed in on the space between your legs, on the place that is still clenching and stretched, so ready and eager for him to fill. You gasp at his ferocity, at the feral look in his eyes because you can see, you can see that almost sentient desire you’re filled with, reflected in his own eyes.

“Joel–” you whisper as he presses one final kiss to the wet tips of your fingers, his eyes fluttering shut as he holds there for one moment.

“I know–” he whispers back, and when his eyes come back to yours, there is such a depth of understanding in them. You realize in this moment, in this shared look, that the two of you are the same in an essential way. It isn’t just your desire that connects the two of you now, it’s so much more. A loneliness, a sentimentality, perhaps, a keen sense of familiarity. That vein of shyness, of being closed off, that fear of opening up, of being hurt, of being left. He’s the same, you can see it, feel it.

You’d never thought you had a very good sense of self identity – your perception of yourself skewed in the image of your mother, of who she was, of her shadow, of the things she’d done, but in this moment, looking into the reflection of Joel’s eyes, you feel you see yourself very clearly, almost securely, for the first time. It is recognition the two of you are sharing now, for some reason, in some way, you recognize him. And you find it ironic, that now, in this moment of all times, when you’re doing the very thing that you’d always been so afraid of, of turning into the thing that you’d always feared because of your mother, it is ironic that you are finally able to cast away her shadow, her image, and see only yourself, so clearly, so wholly, because of him.

And yet, despite the sudden, blinding clarity, oh, it was all so dark, so dark, that it be this man, this unavailable, married, unreachable man, that would make you feel so wholly seen, so understood, so connected.

Your wrist is left wet and sticky where he’s gripped you with his spend covered fingers, but you’re careful not to wipe it away. You want to be left with the tightness of his dried come over your skin.

“Don’t say that we shouldn’t have done that,” he tells you.

“I wasn’t going to.”

“Good.”

“I was going to say that I wish we could do it again – that I wish we could do more.”

“Shit–” he whispers, passes his dry palm over his mouth and then up into his hair, to tug at the messy curls. You move to right your clothes, and he follows your lead, tucking himself back into his jeans. “Me too.”

You let your head rest back against the window as the two of you stare at each other in silence for a moment. It’s comforting, filled with companionship, understanding, the intimacy of the moment the two of you just shared. Your cheeks feel hot and you can’t help but smile at him, just a little, a small laugh escaping, and then he’s returning it, smiling and laughing softly too, until the both of you are wracked with the most ridiculous, schoolyard giggles, like two blushing teenagers. It’s a wonderful moment for the purity of it, the two of you together, laughing. Later, you’re sure it will make you very sad and desperate to relive it, but now, oh, now, it really does feel so wonderful. You wish the two of you could live here forever, together in this moment, in the warm, intimate space of his truck’s cabin.

You talk for hours after that, about nothing and everything. His work and yours, your art, his love of building things, of taking care of things, music and movies and books and Sarah. Always, Sarah.

“She has an obsession with bats right now, weird kid, and there’s a sanctuary up town. We spent a few hours there on Saturday, she loved it. Scampering around in this Snow White princess dress she’s refused to take off for the past three weeks. Won’t part with the damn thing, not even to let me wash it.”

He loves her so much, and it makes your heart pinch and your eyes go hot and weepy. He is, you think, an exceptionally good father, an exceptionally good man.

Eventually, however, it gets late enough that the two of you realize you need to get home. He drives you back to the school in the most comfortable of silences, your hand intertwined reassuringly in his strong embrace. It feels worryingly natural, right.

“Will you let me see you again?” he asks when he pulls up next to your lonely car in the school parking lot.

“I don’t– I don’t know if that’s such a good idea, Joel. This will only go further from here if we continue. And I don’t– I can’t be your–” you frown, shaking your head, disgusted at yourself for even having to say the words, “I can’t be your mistress,” you tell him bluntly.

“I would never, never ask that of you.”

“So, then what is it supposed to be? You’re going to leave your wife? That– that isn’t what I want. I don’t want to be the thing that breaks your marriage up, your family, that leaves Sarah in a broken home. I cannot be that.” It would be your worst nightmare come to life.

He says your name in the most serious tone you think he can muster, as if he can imbue the understanding of his words into your stubborn skull with the resonance of it, “There is no marriage to break up. She’s leaving soon, I know it, I can tell. She’s done. She’s leaving Sarah, and I don’t think she’s coming back this time. I don’t think I can let her just – just come in and out of our daughter’s life like that. Something needs to stop or change. I have to do something to make this better for my girl.”

“I understand that, and I can’t– I can’t tell you how sorry I am to hear that for Sarah. For you. Really, I understand more than I can tell you – but still, when it comes to you and I, or you and her – I can’t … I can’t get into that like this. I– I, I don’t–” you pant, “I don’t know. I’m sorry. But I can’t do that, this. Not now.”

“Baby–”

“No, Joel. You don’t understand – I watched my mother cheat on my father my entire childhood, until she up and left us one day, left him. I watched him love her for years, unreturned, suffer for her, and then I watched him kill himself slowly, drink himself to death until I buried him.”

“That isn’t what Eva and I are–”

“I cannot have an affair with you. I know – I know that’s basically what we’re already fucking doing – I know I’m a hypocrite–”

“You’re not–”

“But I can’t also be the reason you leave your marriage. It would kill me – do you understand?” your voice cracks, you’re shocked you’re not crying right now. “Please, Joel.”

He looks at you for a moment, you’re afraid you can see anger in his eyes, but then they go soft, understanding, and he says, “Yeah… yeah, sweetheart. I understand.” Your eyes flutter shut, and you let out a shaky breath, relieved, but at the same time, filled with a sick twist of disappointment. What would you do if he pressed you, if he forced you? You know part of you would like it. “Can I at least call you? Only sometimes, please. Just to talk – to hear your voice.”

You start to shake your head, but when you open your eyes and take in the pleading look in his gaze, you can’t say no. “Alright, yes… yes, you can call me. That’s okay.”

“Can I kiss you? Just once more?” You lean over the console and press your lips to his, sudden and rough, as an answer, your teeth clicking together harshly. Of course, you want to kiss him again, of course.

One long, tight moment, you clutch his wrists to keep them from pulling you in closer, and then you’re pulling back, scrambling out of the truck and forcing yourself away from him. You need to get away before you lose all strength of will and just let him do whatever he wants to you. You hear him get out, as well, and follow you around to your driver’s side door, waiting behind you as you dig for your car keys in your bag. You open the door, and then turn back to him, you can’t help yourself, and he lifts a hand to drag his thumb across your cheekbone, along the edge of your jaw. His eyes look so sad, like he’s afraid this’ll be the last time the two of you ever see each other again. The tears are back and angrily demanding release, but you try and take deep breaths through your nose to keep them at bay while your entire frame shakes and shivers at the restraint. He nods once and leans forward to press a long kiss above your brow, and then he turns and walks back to his truck, gets inside. He waits until you’ve gotten in your own car and are driving away, great heaving sobs wracking your body, overwhelming you, before you see him finally turn his truck on and start to drive back home, back to his wife and child.

Chapter .5

Netherfeildren's Masterlist

End Notes: This was kind of a heavy one, if there’s anything you’d like to chat about (or yell at me for all the angsty bullshit) pls come do so :)

#someone's fic #Joel miller #joel miller x female oc #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller/reader #joel miller/you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller angst #joel miller imagine #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fic #tlou fic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction

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cinnamongorll · 3 months

Text

a fragile line - chapter 28

read on ao3! (125k words) | previous chapter | next chapter | masterlist

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female OC

Series tags: extreme slow burn, age gap, older man/younger woman, protective joel, jealous joel, hurt/comfort, pov third person, mutual pining, angst, sexual tension, friends to lovers, canon-typical violence, feral joel, parental abuse, eventual smut.

Series synopsis: three years ago, Juliet escaped her father's religious survivor camp, ending up in the Boston QZ. Juliet created a life for herself in Boston, desperate to forget the trauma of her upbringing. One day, Juliet arrives home to find a mysterious letter which forces her to return to her home town. Juliet can't travel the harsh post-apocalyptic landscape alone, so she enlists the help of the grumpy and, at times, frightening man she works alongside: Joel Miller.

Word count: 7.5k

Chapter 28:

Juliet's POV:

3 weeks later...

Juliet’s bathroom mirror had a crack in it.

The edges were jagged, creating a black slash across her face whenever she peered into it. Juliet ran her finger along the gap, allowing the razor edges to glide across her skin, as she examined the way her features split in half.

The steam from the shower had begun to dull the mirror’s clarity, surrounding Juliet’s body in a strange fog. One thing the mirror had yet to dilute, however, was the burning red outline of her father’s possession.

E.M. reflected back at her with precise clarity.

Juliet didn’t flinch anymore when she saw it in the mirror; the reminder of her father and his burning hot poker had faded to a constant screaming in the back of her mind.

The scar appeared to her now like a stain to be removed, one which she itched to run her hand over and erase.

A sense of hollowness began to invade her bones as the shower’s steam gradually coated the glass, turning it opaque. Her father’s brand began to fade into a dull red glow and Juliet released a slow breath.

She turned and stepped under the stream of blazing water, which instantly scorched her skin and another sigh of relief eased from her parted lips. Recently, the burning of the water was the only thing Juliet truly allowed herself to feel.

She tipped her head back under the water and ran her fingers through the soaked strands of her hair, tugging gently as she loosened some knots. For a moment, her own hands were replaced by rough fingers and a tight grip and she let go immediately.

He lingered everywhere: in her hair, on her cheek, her lips, her thighs…

Joel was a stain she could never wash off, no matter how hard she tried.

It had been three weeks of hiding her tears behind closed doors and gasping awake in the middle of the night reaching desperately for him and finding nothing but an empty mattress.

On the darkest of those nights, Juliet imagined herself leaving her house, walking to Joel’s door and taking up the offer of his meaningless touch. Juliet imagined that just the feeling of his hands on her might ease the ache a little… but she knew it wouldn’t fix the fractures he’d left.

Joel had split her open and all that was left was a scarred girl with no one to pull her back together.

She turned the shower off and stepped onto the bathmat. Juliet’s body began to shiver as the warmth of the water left her, and she quickly changed into her clothes and braided her wet hair down her back.

Juliet hesitated when she pulled her shirt down over the brand. Today was her final check up before she could be cleared for Jackson’s patrol and Juliet prayed that Charlotte deemed her whole enough.

When Juliet first arrived in Jackson, she couldn’t imagine ever wanting to step foot outside the fence again… but claustrophobia sets in fast when you’re trapped in a town with a man who has seen the entire rotten mess of your soul and wants absolutely nothing to do with it.

Above all, Juliet wanted to earn her keep. She’d been on medical rest since she came to the town and the weight of her debt to the townspeople was crushing her. Juliet knew how to shoot, she knew how to ride a horse, and she knew how to fight. Patrol was the best fit for her.

She just had to prove that she wasn’t completely falling apart.

Her footsteps were heavy on the stairs as rushed down them, desperate to avoid being late for her appointment.

“You ready?” Ethan called from the kitchen.

“Yeah,” Juliet shouted back as she pulled on her boots.

She’d invited Ethan to come with her and get to know the clinic a bit more. He’d been the medical prodigy of her father’s town and Juliet knew that he was itching to get back to practising medicine, he just needed a push.

Juliet straightened as Ethan rounded the corner into the hall. She only had a second to plaster a somewhat convincing smile on her face before he was in front of her, scanning her up and down.

“Are you okay?” he asked with a frown.

Ethan asked that a lot in the past couple weeks.

“I’m fine,” she assured him as she tilted her chin up, “just want to get this over with.”

Ethan nodded with a weak smile, and his eyes lingered on her face for another moment before he turned to grab his jacket from the hooks beside the front door.

As Ethan shrugged his jacket on, Juliet squeezed past and reached for the khaki coloured canvas jacket.

It still smelled like him.

The reminder of Joel was imprinted in the material and Juliet was forced to breathe in the memory of his presence every time she pushed her arms through the sleeves.

She could have found a new jacket, if she’d tried. Juliet could have traded something and added to her ever-growing debt, it wouldn’t have been too difficult. But how could she? When this was all she had left of him.

Juliet should be angry, she should be furious and disgusted, but she wasn’t. Juliet just felt hollow, like all the emotions she should feel towards Joel had been gutted out and all that was left was an empty pit where her heart used to be.

She pulled the jacket off the hook a little too forcefully and the entire structure shook. Ethan’s head swung towards her but Juliet kept her eyes to the ground and held her breath as Joel’s jacket engulfed her body.

………………………..

The walk to the clinic started out rough, as it always did.

Juliet tried not to look towards his house.

She’d gone through multiple methods to stop her eyes from straying towards it: First, Juliet attempted to cut through the back garden of another house, but she got stuck between a very large tree and a very high fence. Next, on a particularly rough day, she walked past with her eyes squeezed shut, but didn’t get very far before she tripped. Juliet had quickly dusted herself off and darted away, praying no one had seen her. She didn’t even turn back when she thought she’d heard the sound of his door open and footsteps rushing out onto the porch…

Juliet had decided it was just the wind.

This time, Juliet threw herself into a conversation with Ethan as they strolled past. She watched his eyes brighten as he talked about the meal they shared the night before. Juliet smiled back, but it wasn’t real.

She would pretend, though, for Ethan.

For Ethan, Juliet would fake a smile and pretend that she wasn’t entirely numb to the kindness of life in Jackson.

Joel had stripped her of that luxury… but how could she truly blame him?

His only crime was not loving her, and the more she thought about it the more she understood why he could not: she’d bribed him, lied to him, and forced him into a situation where he had to save her life.

Juliet had thought there was something there, glimmering beneath his furrowed brow, clenched jaw and rough commands. Juliet had thought he felt something for her.

She blinked away the threat of tears and tuned back into Ethan’s chatter. Things had been better between them; Juliet remembered how comfortable it had been, with him by her side. He was still the same man after all this time and, as the trauma of the last few weeks started to chip away, Juliet remembered why she had fought so hard to save him.

They walked down Jackson’s mainstreet at a quick pace, smiling at the residents who passed by.

“No one ever smiled back home, did you ever notice that?” Ethan observed in a wistfully sad voice.

“Yeah,” she answered as her head turned towards him, “there wasn’t much to smile about.”

Ethan let out a cold laugh as he stuffed his hands in his pockets.

“Guess that’s true,” he replied, “people here have something to live for, I suppose.”

Juliet caught herself before she flinched, but her skin still pebbled beneath her thick jacket as Ethan unknowingly repeated the words Joel had whispered to her in that dark forest.

“You just gotta find somethin’ to live for,” he’d said in a voice so low and lips so close that his breath had brushed over her forehead.

How could she? Juliet wanted to scream at him now… how could she, when he’d left her standing alone in the cold?

……………………….

“Charlotte!” Juliet called when she opened the door to the clinic. The heat from the fireplace hit her immediately and a flush began to build on her cheeks. She stripped her jacket off immediately and hung it on one of the hooks by the door. Behind her, Ethan did the same as his eyes roamed the room.

“In the back!” Charlotte called back.

Juliet turned to Ethan and raised her eyebrows before they followed the sound of Charlotte’s muffled voice into one of the back rooms.

“Hey,” Juliet said carefully as she stood in the doorway. She was conscious of frightening her new friend as she sat hunched over precariously balanced bottles of some strange liquid.

Charlotte’s head swung towards them and her face lit up. “Hey! Give me two seconds, I’m just finishing up,” she said in her permanently cheerful tone. Juliet nodded and turned to Ethan, ready to gesture that they would go wait in the hall … but Ethan’s eyes were glued on Charlotte.

Juliet watched as Ethan followed the movement of Charlotte’s hands. She must have noticed too, because she called over her shoulder: “Are you interested in medicine?”

Ethan straightened in surprise. “Yeah,” he said, then cleared his throat, “used to practise but it’s been… a while.”

Juliet didn’t miss the way his voice quietened at the reminder of the last few years.

“I take it you were the one to dress Juliet’s wound before y’all arrived?” Charlotte asked over her shoulder as she continued to fiddle with her equipment.

Ethan looked to Juliet before responding, his eyes had taken on a haunted look as they dipped to her stomach then back over to where Charlotte sat at her desk. “Uh, yeah, that was me,” he confirmed in a rough voice.

Charlotte finally looked away from her work and stripped off the gloves in her hands, then carefully dropped them into the bin on the floor. Her eyes lifted to Ethan’s as she reached up to tighten her long blonde ponytail.

“You did a good job,” she said earnestly, then paused and tilted her head slightly to the side, “we’re always looking for help around here, if you’re interested…”

Charlotte trailed off as Ethan began to nod enthusiastically, then she smiled and clapped her hands together. “Fantastic! We’ll talk,” she answered with a wink.

Juliet watched with a hidden smirk as a flush rose on Ethan’s neck.

“But first, Juliet, shall we?” Charlotte said, nodding towards the examination table in the corner of the room.

It was metal with a thin mattress over it, and Juliet had found herself lying on it more times than she could count over the last couple weeks. It turned out that her injuries were more severe than she had realised. Having grown up with bruises as a permanent feature on her skin, Juliet never took her pain seriously. Even in the QZ, her hands were littered with burns that went untreated.

When her father told her every day that the marks he left on her didn’t actually exist, Juliet began to adopt her pain as second nature and question if her tears were worth anything at all.

Charlotte had treated the bullet wound on her shoulder, the bruises and burns on her wrists and ankles, the slash from her father’s bible on the side of her face, and his white hot initials on her stomach… along with various other aches and pains from untreated wounds over the years.

After Charlotte sent Ethan into the hall, she read out the list of treatments Juliet had accumulated over the past few weeks… and it wasn’t surprising she was banned from patrol.

“Okay, so, let’s see if you’re ready to get on a horse,” Charlotte said softly as she rolled up Juliet’s top.

Charlotte’s fingers were icy and goosebumps travelled across Juliet’s skin. She bit her lip and kept her gaze levelled on the ceiling as Charlotte peeled off her bandage. It was terrifying, the thought that she might still be too weak to step outside the town and do something with the abundance of time now on her hands.

In the QZ, the days were long and brutal, and Juliet would stumble back to her dingy apartment with smoke covered hands and blackened lungs before passing out on her moth-eaten couch, preparing for another gruelling shift the following day.

In Jackson, life was much slower. Everyone worked and contributed to the community and there were no enforcers, no men with guns and bats tasked with keeping people in line. People worked in Jackson because they wanted to; the residents were fueled by their gratitude to the town and their willingness to work together.

Juliet wanted, so desperately, to be a part of that. She wanted to find something to get her up in the morning after long nights spent haunted by the memory of rough hands and cold eyes.

“You’re healing nicely, I’m going to recommend to Tommy that you’re cleared for patrol,” Charlotte declared as her hands left Juliet’s torso.

“What?” Juliet coughed out and she used her elbows to lift herself up on the table, just enough to see Charlotte look down at her with her eyebrows raised.

“I said you’re good,” she repeated slowly, “I mean, you’re still healing but I don’t see any risks of infection.” Charlotte clasped her hands together and tilted her head to the side as her eyes softened.

“I know you’ve had a rough time of it the last few weeks… with Joel” Charlotte said in a quiet voice.

She was frighteningly perceptive.

Juliet’s eyes left Charlotte’s as she sat up and swung her legs off the table, cringing slightly at the pull on her stomach.

When she turned to her again, Juliet shook her head and feigned confusion. “It wasn’t like that,” she assured Charlotte with as much conviction as she could muster.

Charlotte scanned her face for a moment, then stepped backwards with a knowing smile. “Just don’t do anything reckless, it won’t make you feel any better,” she warned as her chin tilted downwards. “I’ve spent weeks trying to patch you up, don’t spoil my good work,” she continued, her voice friendly and teasing but with a soft undercurrent of concern.

Juliet feigned an exacerbated eye-roll and let out a long breath. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” she replied and Charlotte shot her another quiet smile.

Juliet thanked Charlotte and left the room. Her heart raced and her body had stiffened slightly as Charlotte’s words sunk in…

Was patrol just another one of her distractions?

Self-destructive behaviour was not new to Juliet, but patrol had nothing to do with Joel, surely. She just wanted to prove herself, right?

Her mind felt clouded as she walked into the waiting room, ready to join Ethan by the fire for a moment, but her steps halted when she entered the room.

The front door swung open and Tommy entered, rubbing his hands together as the heat hit him. “There you are,” he said warmly as his eyes focused on her, standing stiffly next to Ethan’s chair.

Juliet blinked. “Hey”

“How’d it go?” Tommy asked as he walked closer, running a hand through his long wavy hair, “you cleared for patrol?”

Juliet straightened and a sudden feeling of dread began to burn in her gut. “Yeah,” she said quietly, “Charlotte said I’m good to go.”

A relieved smile took over Tommy’s mouth. “Thank god, a couple guys had to leave patrol when their wives had their kids, so we’re needin’ some fresh recruits,” he explained enthusiastically.

Juliet didn’t reply, she just nodded awkwardly and crossed her arms over her chest.

Tommy’s stare cut suddenly to Ethan, who sat quietly in the armchair by the fire watching their conversation with his usual curious look.

“What bout you?” Tommy directed towards Ethan. “Heard you can shoot too, you interested in patrol?”

Ethan’s eyebrows shot up and he shifted in his seat.

“Tommy Miller, are you tryin to steal my new trainee?” Charlotte exclaimed in mock surprise as she squeezed into the room behind Juliet with a gentle touch on her shoulder.

Juliet’s mouth twitched as Tommy’s eyes shot to the ceiling.

“New trainee?” he asked, looking between Charlotte and Ethan.

“Yeah,” she shrugged, “with doc doin’ so many house visits, I need all the help around here I can get.”

Tommy looked contemplative as Charlotte’s head turned to Ethan. “Plus, I think he’s already had some medical training. Is that right?” she asked, tilting her chin down at Ethan, sitting in his armchair.

Ethan stiffened as all the eyes in the room swung on him at once. “That’s right,” he confirmed roughly as his gaze found Charlotte’s.

Tommy raised his hands. “Fine,” he said, admitting defeat, then he caught Juliet’s eye and nodded. “Let’s head over to the stables, I’ll introduce you to your patrol partner.”

Juliet didn’t say anything for a moment. The weight of her decision grew heavy on her shoulders, but there was also a glimmer of excitement within her. She imagined herself getting on a horse, armed with every weapon she needed to protect the town.

It would be good to protect a place like this, a place that actually deserved it.

Her eyes caught Charlotte’s and the weight eased as Juliet returned her warm, encouraging smile.

She turned back to Tommy, who watched her with a curious look. Juliet might have thought there was guilt swimming in his gaze if she didn’t know any better.

Eventually, Juliet nodded sharp and quick. “Let’s go.”

………………………..

Juliet hadn’t stepped foot in the stables since that first day, when burning relief was her most prominent emotion.

Now, Juliet wasn’t sure what to feel.

Tommy showed her around, pointing out all the things he hadn’t needed to on that first day. Juliet listened intently, wishing she had brought a notebook with her. It was the first job she’d ever cared about and she didn’t want to fuck it up.

Juliet was very conscious of the fact that she had no ties to Jackson or Tommy, and that she and Ethan were allowed to stay purely because of the kindness of the residents.

Once the tour had ended, Tommy and Juliet circled back to the entrance of the stables, where they waited for her new patrol partner to arrive. Tommy assured her that she wouldn’t start until the following day, but he wanted to make sure that she met her partner before then.

They chatted quietly about Jackson’s weather, and the snow which was very possibly arriving the following week, when the barn doors opened with a long sharp whine of the hinges.

Juliet’s head swung in the direction and her stomach dropped to her feet.

She would have prepared herself if she thought it would have been him. She would have donned some armour, strengthening her defences and at least attempted to plug the gaping hole in her chest.

But Juliet hadn’t expected to see him, so the sight of Joel Miller struck her like the most painful blow.

When her eyes finally focused, the first thing she noticed was his new jacket.

It shouldn’t have caused her stomach to drop even further, but it did.

It was a dark brown leather, with the collar slightly turned up over his throat and Joel tugged against it as he entered the chilled barn.

Juliet swallowed rough and shifted on her feet as she forced her eyes to focus on Tommy, but she knew the exact moment Joel’s stare found her.

Out of the corner of her eye, she watched his stride suddenly stop and his body physically stiffen.

“Joel,” Tommy said, greeting his brother with a tight smile.

Juliet kept her stare pointed on Tommy’s face but goosebumps grew across her skin as she felt Joel move closer.

“Ready to head out?” Joel asked his brother, his voice low and stilted.

Tommy nodded and crossed his arms over his chest as his eyes darted to Juliet.

“Yeah, soon, just waiting to introduce Juliet to Matt,” Tommy explained, as he tilted his head down to check his watch.

“Why?” Joel demanded in a voice so devastatingly dark. She felt his hot gaze find the side of her head and Juliet knew she had to turn around and face him, but his uncaring stare still stained the inside of her eyelids when she tried to sleep at night and Juliet worried that she might see that coldness in his eyes again.

Tommy looked taken aback as his head turned between them both. “Juliet want -”

“I’m starting patrol,” Juliet said, cutting Tommy off as she finally faced Joel.

Joel’s eyes were like the heaviest anchor, dragging her down into the depths of her sadness. Juliet had once thought he was the weight that kept her afloat, but she was wrong; she was merely a passenger in his life before he pushed her off the edge, back into the dark murky waters.

“You’re what?” he growled. Joel looked down at her with a face like cracked stone, where his rage simmered out of each jagged edge.

Inside, Juliet’s heart was hammering against her chest, but on the outside, she forced her spine to straighten and she wiped her face clean of any shock or surprise.

“I’m starting patrol,” she repeated, slower this time with a harsher edge to her voice.

“No, you’re not,” Joel argued gruffly, but his voice didn’t invite a response, it was a command.

Juliet blinked and looked to Tommy for assistance. “Charlotte just cleared me?” she replied, confusion evident in the crease between her eyebrows.

“Joel, you said it yourself, Juliet is highly skilled and we need that on patrol,” Tommy interjected, shifting on his feet.

Joel said that?

Juliet reached up to rub the back of her neck as her irritation grew. Joel was cruel that day outside her house, she hadn’t imagined that… but was she now imagining the way his eyes shone with concern?

“You’re not ready, it’s too dangerous, you’ll hurt yourself,” Joel challenged. His words spilled from his mouth in a distressed ramble which made the confusion in Juliet’s chest twist painfully.

Juliet shook her head and tilted her chin up to meet his flared pupils.

Her mind flashed back to the Joel she knew three weeks ago, who had looked so guarded and frigid, and then she focused on the Joel standing in front of her with a turbulent combination of fear and anger darkening his eyes.

Juliet should be outraged at his insistence that she couldn’t take care of herself, but she couldn’t help the part of her who clung to him on dark nights, and looked up at him like her protector, from viewing Joel’s words with optimism, with some sick hope that maybe he really did care after all.

He must have seen it in her eyes; Joel must have watched her gaze shift into something softer, something kinder. And so, just as he had three weeks ago, Joel crushed any hope still living within her.

Joel’s eyes narrowed as he turned to Tommy, ignoring Juliet altogether. “She’s not ready, she can’t protect the town.”

It was like her heart was shattering all over again.

Juliet’s eyes turned glossy despite her best efforts to push down the ache in her chest. Joel just had this keen way of finding the part of her which hurt the most and driving the knife in deeper.

Tommy stepped back from his brother, rage now rippling across his face.

“Go sort the horses Joel, we’ll leave once I’m done here,” Tommy seethed, and Joel’s eyes widened.

“You can’t be serious,” Joel ground out when he turned on Juliet, “after everythin’ we went through to get here, you’re just gonna go back out there?”

Juliet winced. “You’re on patrol, why can’t I?” she bit back, standing her ground.

Joel’s jaw clenched with teeth cracking intensity as his dark eyes roamed her face. What he was searching for in her expression, Juliet didn’t know, but she wasn’t planning on relenting anytime soon. In fact, Joel’s presence just made her more determined to find time beyond the fence.

Everything about being around him hurt. It hurt to look in his eyes, knowing the way he used to look at her. It hurt watching his mouth curl into a cruel snarl, knowing the way he used to reluctantly laugh when she least expected it. But most of all, it hurt to hear the bitter words from his mouth as she remembered how warm they had once sounded against her skin.

“That’s different,” he argued as he sharply turned his head back to Tommy in a desperate attempt to find some agreement in his eyes. But his brother said nothing, he was the one to approach Juliet with the offer of patrol and he wasn’t budging.

“Joel, just go,” Tommy interrupted with a hand on Joel’s chest, holding him back from god knows what. Juliet hadn’t realised until Tommy broke the spell that Joel had moved closer, towering over her as he almost growled his words.

He took one last look at Juliet, scanning her face with such intensity before he pushed past his brother and headed further into the stables with his shoulders tight and his fists clenched by his side.

Juliet blinked and felt her race redden.

“I’m sorry bout him,” Tommy sighed as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“It’s fine,” she replied quickly. It wasn’t though. She just couldn’t understand it. Joel and Juliet fought their way across the country together; he knew she could shoot, and protect herself, so why would he be so against her joining the patrol?

Maybe what her father had done to her changed the way Joel saw her… maybe he saw her as weak, maybe that’s why he wanted nothing to do with her…

Juliet swallowed roughly and coughed away the lump in her throat. She couldn’t afford to think like that. If she started to imagine why Joel had backed away, Juliet would spend the entire day ripping herself apart.

“Hey!” a new voice called from the entrance to the barn.

A smile approached Tommy’s mouth as a man Juliet hadn’t seen before stepped into the stables and headed over towards them.

“Matt, I’d like you to meet Juliet - your new patrol partner,” Tommy said, gesturing towards Juliet.

Juliet’s eyes finally focused on him and she stood up a bit straighter. He was handsome, with messy brown hair and a friendly smile which prevented any tendrils of fear from growing in her chest.

But it was his eyes which helped ease Juliet the most. They were kind eyes, the sort of eyes which echoed every smile on his face.

“Juliet,” he echoed, now staring down at her, “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Juliet wasn’t sure how to reply. Her mind was still caught up in the mystery of Joel, so she opted for a quiet smile and raised eyebrows.

“Heard you’re a good shot, will be good havin’ someone like you watchin’ my back out there,” Matt said with a friendly wink.

How did everyone know so much about her? Only Joel truly knew the extent of her survival skills but she couldn’t imagine him singing her praises around town, he could barely look her in the eye without scowling.

“When do we start?” she asked, pointedly ignoring Matt’s comment out of mild embarrassment.

Matt crossed his arms over his chest and looked at Tommy. “We’re on the schedule for tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah, bright and early,” Tommy confirmed.

Juliet nodded and looked between the two men. “Perfect.”

…………………………

Two days later, Juliet had regrets. Not enough that she would swear off patrol forever, but she definitely had her doubts.

She walked into the stables for her second shift just before dawn with her hood up and her sleeves pulled down over her fingers. The barn was empty and she could hear the soft thuds of her footsteps hit the straw covered ground as she made her way over to her horse.

With everything in her, Juliet tried not to think about the day before or the fresh, thick ring of bruises around her wrist… if she did, she might start to think that maybe Joel was right, maybe patrol wasn’t for her.

But she wouldn’t give him that satisfaction.

Matt went first through Jackson’s gates, leading his horse with an air of confidence about him while Juliet tugged on the reins of her own horse and followed behind with sweaty palms and a racing heart.

The first hour or so was fine, boring even, as Juliet and Matt travelled towards a nearby abandoned town they’d been asked to clear. Juliet had her gun loaded and her knife ready. She wasn’t frightened of the infected, it was always the people to look out for.

She eyed Matt on the horse next to her. He seemed nice, making an effort to keep the conversation up even if Juliet only responded with vague answers and quiet pauses. His smile never faltered, it was inspiring actually. But Juliet hadn't seen him fight yet and she worried that his skills might not match his confidence.

When they reached the array of houses, they stopped and slid off their horses in silence; only communicating through hand signals and exaggerated looks. Within minutes, Juliet and Matt had their guns positioned in front of them as they approached the first house.

Their backs were pressed against the rotted wood, listening for any infected groans or hushed whispers. Juliet breathed a sigh of relief when they heard nothing, but the rigidness of her shoulders didn’t ease; they still had to clear the houses, which meant actually going in them.

Juliet swallowed and closed her eyes, she allowed the weight of her task to fall down on her tense shoulders and then waited for herself to get used to the feeling. Juliet was beyond the fence and she had neither Joel nor Blake standing by her side to protect her. Despite Matt’s gentle presence, Juliet felt like she was facing this alone, and with that thought came a feeling of pride. She could do this, she was doing this. Juliet pushed Joel’s harsh words to the back of her mind and strengthened her grip on her gun.

When she opened her eyes, Matt turned her way and he signalled to split up and enter the house through different doors. Juliet’s eyebrows furrowed a little at the mention of splitting up, but, despite hardly knowing him, she trusted that Matt knew the ways of patrol and decided to follow his lead. She nodded back fast and sharp.

The thud of hard footsteps startled Juliet from her memory and her head darted towards the source of the sound.

As soon as her eyes brushed over the muddy leather jacket she froze and squeezed her eyes shut. Shit.

That was not Matt.

Juliet swallowed down her panic and shrunk behind the wall near the back of the stables, where the shelving was kept. Maybe if she stayed here, Joel would get what he needed and leave. He wasn’t scheduled for patrol this morning.

She heard him head over to his horse and Juliet allowed her head to fall back against the wall in relief.

The front door made no sound as she turned the handle, not even the signature shriek of over twenty year old hinges. The initial stabbing of fear in her chest lessened as a small bit of relief flowed through her.

Juliet walked into the house with the softest footsteps she could manage, barely even putting weight on the wooden floor as she made her way through the hall and into the living room.

The house was a massive, practically a mansion, it was bigger than any house Joel and Juliet had come across on the road and there was a lot of ground to cover. Matt had entered from the back door and Juliet watched as he silently headed up the stairs before she rounded the corner into the living area.

The room was a time capsule. With the layers and layers of dust on everything Juliet assumed that nothing had been touched since the world changed. It was strange to come across a house that hadn’t been pillaged but Juliet assumed being positioned deep in Wyoming would deter any visitors.

The realisation allowed Juliet’s muscles to ease even further but she continued to hold her gun tight in her hand with her finger hovering over the trigger, just like Ethan had taught her. It was her first time on patrol and she wasn’t taking any chances.

There was a door across the room so Juliet headed there next, still making sure to keep her steps light and fast. She kept listening for anything amiss upstairs but heard nothing, Matt must have been fine, just silently sweeping the untouched rooms.

Juliet was struck by how cold the handle was as her hand curved around it. She should have taken it as an omen, but the thought hadn’t even entered her head as she angled her wrist and turned the handle.

“The hell you doin’ back here?” a gruff, startled voice demanded.

Juliet’s eyes shot open and her head turned to Joel, now standing beside the wall she leaned against. She straightened instantly as her heart started to speed in her chest. Juliet could tell herself that he had startled her, but her body reacted this way every time she met his dark brown eyes.

“Just waiting for Matt,” Juliet answered as she continued to shake herself from her memories.

“Behind a wall?” Joel asked, amused.

His mouth didn’t have the same sharp edges to it, but Juliet knew not to be fooled.

“Yeah,” she confirmed, her face reddening slightly, “was just uh resting my eyes for a second.”

“Sure,” Joel replied slowly, with raised eyebrows.

Juliet shifted, suddenly feeling unsteady. She hadn’t spoken to Joel since the day before last, when he had very publicly questioned her survival abilities.

She wrapped her arms around her middle, making sure her hurt didn’t spill out from the hole he left in her chest.

“Why are you here?” Juliet snapped, “you’re not on the schedule.”

Joel blinked and crossed his arms over his chest. He looked down at her with eyes that didn’t match the memory of his apathy that day outside her house and Juliet struggled to keep her defences secured.

He cleared his throat and his jaw shifted. “Just grabbin’ some ammo,” he answered, nodding at the shelving behind her.

“Oh,” Juliet breathed. She realised that she was standing in his way and a horribly enticing image of him brushing against her as he squeezed past flashed into her mind. Juliet swallowed and decided to avoid any more close proximity, lest her defences fail entirely and she fall for the hint of decency he was showing her in that moment.

“I’ll grab it for you,” she said quietly and turned. The shelf of ammo was quite high up so she had to stand on her tiptoes and stretch her right arm up to grip the small box.

Behind her, Juliet heard Joel’s sharp intake of breath as her sleeve fell.

The handle turned with ease, it wasn’t even stiff. Somehow, Juliet had been fooled by the silence of the house and its lack of immediate threats. That’s why, when the door inched open and the infected’s peeling face filled her view, Juliet froze as her shock choked her. Her hand paused on the handle, she didn’t dare make a single movement.

It was strange, looking back on it, that the infected hadn’t made a single sound to announce its presence. Not a click or a grunt or a screech.

Peering into the windowless room, Juliet hadn’t known it was lurking in the dark until its decayed fingers were wrapped around her wrist, as her hand continued to grip the freezing cold handle.

With the first touch of its wet, torn flesh on her skin, terror struck Juliet, wrapping around her throat with the same vice-like grip of the infected on her wrist. She might have screamed, she wasn’t sure, because the infected had finally decided to make its presence known, shrieking violently into Juliet’s ear.

The infected gripped her wrist so forcefully that she couldn’t pull herself from the door handle, so she did the next best thing: Juliet tightened her hold on the door and pulled with all her strength to slam it closed on the infected.

It worked. Kind of.

The infected was jammed in between the door and its frame, with its hand still squeezing down harder and harder against Juliet’s wrist and its head pushing through the gap.

Juliet was definitely screaming as the infected’s teeth snapped against her arm. Joel’s jacket wouldn’t protect her from the force of the infected’s bite. Panic flooded her bloodstream. Juliet couldn’t think, she couldn’t strategise, because what if the infected’s teeth had already pierced her skin?

What if this was it?

If she was bit, Matt would shoot her in the head and Juliet would never see Joel again.

Even in what might have been her final moments, as she struggled against the infected, Juliet still thought of him.

She would die, and never get to tell him how she really felt.

Juliet knew he wouldn’t care, that some confession from her would only be met by emotionless eyes and cutting words, but she couldn’t let go… she couldn’t forget how she felt, and how he had once made her feel.

Thankfully, her sanity returned as the milliseconds ticked by and Juliet started shooting the infected’s arm, desperately attempting to force it to release her wrist.

She heard Matt rush up behind her, shouting her name, but she just kept shooting until a bullet finally landed itself in the infected’s head.

Matt caught her as she fell backwards, still kicking her feet and continuing to scream even as she watched the infected fall to the floor, mostly behind the door with only its arm and leaking head in sight.

“It’s okay,” Matt repeated over and over as Juliet struggled against him.

“No, get away” she gasped as terror poured from her, “I might be infected.”

Matt didn’t let go, even as Juliet began to punch his arms. It had to have hurt but he didn’t budge.

“Calm down, we’ll check, okay?” he said breathlessly as Juliet’s punches grew weaker. “Please, just let me have a look.”

Juliet slumped against him, breathing heavy. She couldn’t bring herself to glance at her wrist.

Matt held tight against her until for another moment before he cautiously reached towards her arm. Juliet could feel the rapid beating of his heart against her back.

Her eyes were squeezed shut when she felt his fingertips on her wrist, her skin was almost numb from the force of the infected’s grip, but she still felt Matt slowly trace her skin, searching for her death sentence.

Tears leaked from the corner of her scrunched eyelids when he pulled her sleeve down further and Juliet wondered how long the infection would take to set in. Was she starting to feel it now? Or was the shaking of her body just the remnants from her adrenaline rush?

The seconds stretched beyond all understanding of space and time as Juliet waited for Matt to confirm her fate.

“You’re clean,” he whispered softly as his fingers left her aching skin.

“Juliet,” he said, raising his voice a little to grab her attention. “You’re clean, it didn’t get you, I swear.”

Juliet felt his voice rumble against her back as she continued to slump against him and she waited for his words to register. When they did, she sat up and, with a spinning head, examined every inch of her skin.

“I’m clean,” she confirmed under her breath as her wide eyes trained on the rapidly developing bruise on her skin.

The following day, the bruise had only grown worse. It was almost black and wrapped around the entirety of her wrist in the shape of the infected’s rotten fingers.

Juliet’s entire body stiffened as she felt the sleeve of her jacket brush her raw skin and reveal the evidence of her stupidity, her inability to protect the town.

She’d got herself caught by an infected, she could have got Matt killed.

Quickly she gripped the worn cardboard of the ammo box and dropped her arms, swallowing rough before she turned around.

She knew how Joel would react. He would tell her that he was right, that she wasn’t ready to go on patrol -

“Who did this to you?” Joel seethed in a voice so viciously menacing that Juliet couldn't help but flinch. He stalked towards her and grabbed the ammo from her hand, throwing it on the low shelf behind her, before he lifted her wrist with surprising gentleness as his fingers slowly pushed back the sleeve of her jacket, revealing the extent of the bruising.

His eyes left her arm momentarily to meet her wide eyed stare.

“Who did this to you?” he demanded again, slower this time, like every word choked him.

Juliet’s lips parted as her eyes darted between Joel’s intense stare and his fingers softly brushing over her wrist.

His mouth was bloodthirsty but his eyes were pained, like the sight of the dark ring of purple around her wrist bruised him too.

“Nobody, It was -”

“Don’t lie to me,” he nearly growled. “Was it Matt?”

Juliet’s stomach dropped. Joel said Matt’s name as though her were some mass murderer.

“No!” Juliet said nervously, “It was -”

“If he fuckin’ touched you,” Joel raged, shaking his head ever so slightly.

“It wasn’t him!” Juliet breathlessly revealed. “It was an infected.”

Juliet expected Joel’s rage to burn out when he realised Matt had no part in her injury, but for some reason it looked as though the muscles in his body grew even tighter.

“An infected did this?” he breathed, hovering his thumb over the dark purple.

Juliet nodded slowly, not trusting her words.

Joel was touching her and she could think of nothing else other than the calloused edge of his fingertips brushing so delicately against her injured skin.

“You weren’t bit?” Joel asked softly, already knowing the answer or Juliet wouldn’t have been standing in front of him.

“No,” she whispered hoarsely.

“You could’ve been killed,” he ground out as a muscle jumped in his very tight jaw. Joel was so close to her now, his breath touched her forehead as she looked up at him.

She was pressed against the shelving, with nowhere to escape him.

His other hand reached up and cradled her cheek as his eyes scanned over her face, watching as her lip trembled.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked in a hushed voice.

Juliet had been drawn in, caught in the spell of Joel’s close proximity; exposed to the intoxication of his smell and the magnetism of his eyes.

But his words struck her in that deep, dark hole in her chest, and she was thrown from his orbit.

Why didn’t she tell him?

Her eyes darkened.

“Why the hell would I tell you?” Juliet almost snarled.

Joel drew back as if he’d been slapped.

For a brief moment, Juliet imagined she saw hurt blazing in his eyes, before they hardened.

“We haven’t spoken in weeks, and you all but told me you couldn’t care less about me,” she bit out, pouring every bit of her anger, shock and sadness into each word.

“Why would I tell you anything?” she continued, her voice cracking.

A million emotions flashed across Joel’s face, and Juliet couldn’t seem to grasp at any.

She was breathing heavy.

His hands released her slowly as though he had to force himself to pull away.

Joel took a deep breath and Juliet held her’s as she waited for him to take back every cruel word he threw at her and rescind the way he made her feel.

But his eyes scanned her face and the breath slowly left his mouth, with nothing to ease the ache in Juliet’s chest.

“It’s a miracle you’re alive,” he said quietly after a moment, rubbing a hand over his jaw.

Juliet said nothing, all the fight in her was gone.

She’d expected Joel to argue back, to fight her accusation of his indifference towards her.

But, instead, she watched as all the shutters in his mind slammed closed once again.

With one last lingering look, Joel turned and stormed around the corner without his ammo.

Juliet closed her eyes and felt tears leak down her cheeks, cleansing her skin of the memory of Joel’s heated touch as she heard his hard footsteps march out of the barn.

_________________________________________

@amyispxnk @http-paprika @shotgun-shelby @weeping-werewolf

(I'll proofread this properly tomorrow, sorry if there's any random formatting or grammatical errors lol)

thanks for reading ❤️

#joel miller #joel miller angst #joel miller x female oc #joel miller x reader #joel miller x original character #joel miller x oc #joel miller fic #ao3 fanfic #joel miller hbo #joel miller fanfic #pedro pascal #tlou #joel tlou #the last of us #tlou hbo #Spotify

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tightjeansjavi · 2 months

Text

In the Warmth of Your Love

part II of Burning in a Hopeless Dream

Chapter one | “can’t quit you, baby”

A/N: to kick off my 1 year celebration of writing fic…we’re going right back to my roots! 🤭 to my devoted Gwen & Joel fans, this one is for y’all! I wrote this back in October after taking a looong hiatus from the series. The original path was to pick up on chapter 17 and continue to follow the path of the show. I decided that trying to essentially rewrite the events that take place after Bill & Franks episode was just too much for me to handle. I knew I wanted to continue Joel & Gwen’s story, but I didn’t know what that would end up looking like!

In the Warmth of Your Love takes place after the events in the hospital.

~word count: 3.1k~

Summary: a glimpse into your new life in Jackson with Joel.

Pairing | joel miller x f!oc

Warnings: fluff, angst, smut, established relationship, found family, age gap, (oc is in her early 30’s and Joel is in his 50’s) unprotected piv, pining, cock warming, dirty talk, praise kink, domestic intimacy, they’re so in love it hurts, +18 minors dni!

series masterlist

“Swear to me.”

“Swear to me that everything you said about the Fireflies is true, Joel.”

“I swear.”

6 months had passed since you and Joel murdered every single Firefly in the Salt Lake City hospital. 6 months since Joel swore to Ellie that everything he told her about the Fireflies was true. That they had stopped looking for a cure, and raiders attacked the hospital. That there were more people like Ellie that were immune.

It was all a lie. One that you and Joel carried on your shoulders everyday. As Ellie’s guardians, you and Joel made the decision that you both felt was the right one.

“Jesus fuck, Joel. What the hell did you do?” Tommy asked his brother the day after the three of you showed back up on Jackson’s doorstep.

“I did what I had to do. I protected her. I saved her. I killed every last person that stood in the way of me getting to Ellie. They were going to kill her, Tommy. They were going to kill her and I—we couldn’t let that happen. Ellie didn’t want to die. I know she didn’t because she fuckin’ told me before we were ambushed. I killed Marlene. I killed the doctor who was going to perform the surgery. I killed them all.” Joel admitted.

Tommy scrubbed a hand down his face with a heavy sigh as he sank back against the chair. “And Gwen? What was her role in all of this?”

“She killed them too. We did it together.”

“Does..Ellie know the truth?” Tommy already knew the answer but he wanted to hear it from Joel’s mouth first.

“No, she doesn’t. And she never will know what happened in that hospital. She can live her life the way she deserves to. She can make friends and be happy for once in her fuckin’ life.”

“Joel, I can’t have two murders livin’ in town. Maria won’t stand for it, and you know that brother.”

“Tommy, please. I’m your brother, for fuck’s sake. Gwen and I only did what we felt was right. Wouldn’t you do the same if it was your kid? You don’t have to tell Maria the truth. Don’t we deserve a second chance at peace too?”

“It doesn’t matter what the fuck I would have done in that situation Joel! You—you fucking murdered an entire hospital of Fireflies! This town doesn’t condone violence, and if anyone were to ever find out—”

Joel was leaning forward in his chair, his hands clasped together as he looked at his brother, right in his eyes with pure desperation in his deep brown irises. “I’ll be carryin’ that burden for the rest of my fuckin’ days. You’ve killed people too, Tommy. Just because you’ve been living here with a loving wife, and a baby on the way, doesn’t mean that the blood on your own goddamn hands gets erased. Listen to me, okay? Gwen is a good fucking person. She’s got a huge heart and she deserves a second chance too. She’s good with horses, and I can help you with any of the heavy lifting shit that gets done around here. Please, Tommy. Please let us stay.”

Tommy stared right back at his brother and deep down he knew he couldn’t turn him away, no matter how hard he tried.

“Okay. All three of you can stay, under one condition. You never, and I mean never speak about what happened at that hospital to anyone. You hear me Joel? Never.”

“I swear on my life that I will never speak about it again. You have my word Tommy.”

Maria was no idiot and Tommy knew this all too well about his wife. “They’ll stay in the house they were in the last time they came through here. Joel said that Gwen has worked with horses before and can help out around the stables, and Joel can help me with fixin’ things ‘round here. He’s really good with that stuff.”

“We have enough mouths to feed as it is Tommy. I really don’t think this is a good idea.”

“Maria, Joel is my brother. He’s been through hell, all three of them have. I’m not going to turn them away so can we please come up with a compromise here?”

“Fine. I just don’t want Joel or Gwen near any weapons. If they’re going to live here, then they’re going to abide by our rules. Ellie will go to school with the rest of the kids and I expect Gwen to also help out with food prep and the Tipsy Bison. Joel can help you with the handiwork projects, and in time he can help out on patrol.”

“Ellie will probably end up fighting tooth and nail to not go back to school, but I’m sure we can work that out.”

In the early mornings you were helping out in the stables. Feeding the horses, mucking stalls, and grooming. It was easy enough to fall back into a routine that you had known so well from your teen years. You knew horses better than anyone in Jackson did, and you were beyond grateful at being given a fresh start. Your afternoons were spent in the mess hall kitchen. Prepping vegetables and breaking down chickens for dinner. Food was abundant in a place like this, and you weren’t sure if you would ever grow used to the feeling of no longer having to starve.

Your evenings after dinner were spent at the Tipsy Bison, working behind the bartop with Tommy. If there was one thing the men in Jackson loved, it was a pretty woman serving them whiskey after a long day out on patrol. At the end of each day there was only one man you wanted to see in your bed, and that man was Joel; your Joel.

These days you hardly saw him or Ellie. Your schedules were different. With Ellie at school and working at the stables in the afternoon, and Joel helping Tommy in the mornings, and then patrolling through the evening, there was barely any time for you to spend together. He still held you at night through his exhaustion, but he too missed the way things used to be.

The days flew by, summer had come and gone. The seasons changed and the air grew colder, and the nights grew longer.

You had just finished wiping down the bartop after the last of the stragglers headed home for the night. You carefully placed every bottle of liquor back onto the shelf before scrubbing the glasses clean. The record player crackled in the background, Led Zeppelin's ‘I Can’t Quit You Baby’ a rock n’roll classic. You hummed the tune, swaying your hips subconsciously to the low beat.

The door to the Tipsy Bison swung open on the hinges as you let out a sigh, not looking up from the table you were wiping down. “We’re closed for the evening. You’ll have to come back tomorrow.”

“I don’t wanna anythin’ to drink.” Joel rasped as he closed the door behind him.

“Joel? What are you doing here?..it’s late, shouldn’t you be at home?” You looked up at him through thick lashes.

“Couldn’t sleep. Decided to go for a walk, n’ended up here. I miss you..so much. Hardly get to see much of ya at all. Jus’ thought we could spend some time together, even if it’s gotta be in a place like this.”

“I miss you too, Joel. You know I do.”

“I know, baby. I know.” He paused as his gaze fell upon your exhausted face, and tired eyes. “S’that Zeppelin playin?’” He rested his elbow along the high top you had just wiped down.

“Yeah, one of the patrol guys found it for me in an abandoned house a few miles west. It’s got a few scratches but is otherwise in fair shape.”

“Mm.” He hummed under his breath. “S’you got admirers then? Can’t say I blame ‘em. Pretty thing like you servin’ them whiskey all night? How do ya keep ‘em at bay?” His brow raised in curiosity.

“With this.” You slipped your knife from the holster hidden under your shirt with ease. “Tommy keeps them on a tight leash anyway. They know not to try anything funny.”

“Breakin’ the rules already? Maria said no weapons, sweetheart.” He leaned forward along his elbow as his fingers reached out and brushed against the worn hilt of your knife. He could just barely make out your carved initials through the thick wood. “You tell ‘em that you're mine? That you’re Joel’s girl, and that if any of ‘em ever were to—”

“Joel, relax. No one has tried anything past harmless flirting. Everyone knows that you and I..we’re an item. What Maria doesn’t know won’t kill her. My knife is a safety net that I’m just not ready, nor willing to give up right now.”

“We’re more than an item, Gwen. We’re partners for life. I know your knife is your safety net. I know it is, baby. S’why I still sleep with a gun under my pillow. Knowin’ it’s there helps calm me, but the one person that keeps my nightmares at bay ain’t home. She’s not in bed with me cus’ she’s here servin’ whiskey all night to men that probably fantasize about what it’s like to be with a woman like you.” He breathed out and you could taste his warm breath along your unkissed lips.

“Of course we are Joel. I got you, you got me. That hasn’t changed, and it never will. We’re both in this adjustment period and it’s tough. I’d much rather be at home with you and Ellie, but Maria said I had to ‘pay’ my dues.” You gently placed your knife along the smooth wooden surface of the table. “Are you sure there’s nothing I can get you to drink, Mr. Miller?”

“If you’re on the menu for tonight, then that’s what I’ll be havin.’”

“I believe we might be all sold out of that for tonight. Let me go check in the back just to be sure.” You were already turning on your heel to walk away before you felt his warm and calloused palm wrap around your wrist, halting you from taking another step.

“Ain’t you got a little love left for me? When’s the last time I’ve tasted those lips, hm?” He gently coaxed you to step towards him, and once you were close enough, his hand released your wrist and found purchase around your hip through muscle memory. His fingers flexed as his thumb slipped through the belt loop on your jeans. “Y’remember that night after teachin’ Robert a lesson? When we fucked in that back alley without a care in the goddamn world if FEDRA would catch us or not? Remember when we would..have fun? Don’tcha miss that?”

“I’ve always got love left for you Joel. I can’t remember the last time we kissed without us thinking it would be the last time. I do remember that night, just as if it had happened yesterday.” Your hands found themselves resting along his shoulders, squeezing them gently through the material of his worn jacket. In the low lighting your eyes discerned the speckled gray in his beard, and the salt and pepper silver strands of hair. His chapped lips, his inviting eyes that always softened their hardness around you. “We had fun, Joel but between all of that there was so much—”

“No. Don’t say another word. Y’hear me? We don’t have to run. We don’t have to hide. We don’t have to fight. We’re safe here. You, me and Ellie. I won’t deny that you and I—we’ve suffered, but in that suffering we have loved goddammit. We have loved so fuckin’ hard. You're the breath in my lungs, n’you’re the soft breeze kissin’ on my skin. You’re the sun risin n’settin’ everyday. You’re the moonlight guidin’ me home. Your eyes twinkle brighter than any goddamn star in that sky. You’re my—” his words were stolen from his lips as you yanked on the collar of his jacket and pulled him down to your awaiting lips. You kissed him so deeply it felt like both the air from yours and his lungs was being knocked from your bodies. A cataclysmic wave of emotions washed through your veins as you pulled him as close as physically possible. Tongues tangled as you stumbled back against the nearest stable surface; the bartop counter.

“When did you become such a fuckin’ poet, Joel?” You asked breathlessly between kisses as your fingers tangled recklessly through his hair.

“Started readin’ more. Shakespeare mostly.” He mumbled against your lips as he stepped between your thighs, pressing your back firmly against the counter.

“You hate Shakespeare.” You retorted, gripping his hair tighter as your free hand started to desperately tug and push the fabric of his jacket down from his broad shoulders.

“You love Shakespeare.” He countered.

“Less talking, more kissing please. I gotta say it’s fucking hot that you are reading more. I find that so fucking sexy Joel.”

“Yeah? Think it’s sexy when a rugged old man like me reads Shakespeare?” He helped you remove his jacket completely as he threw it to the floor in a haste.

“You’re not that old, baby. Besides, I like your salt and pepper hair and little gray patches in your beard. You’re so fucking beautiful Joel.”

“I’m pretty fuckin’ old, baby. Old and a little gray, but I still got it n’me to fuck you stupid. Jus’ the way that my girl likes it. Them dogs out there don’t know how to handle a woman of your caliber. Now, hop up that pretty lil’ ass up on that counter f’me.”

“You don’t have to ask me twice Mr. Miller.” You detached your lips from his momentarily as you hoisted yourself up onto the edge of the countertop. You wasted no time to grasp the end of your t-shirt and yank it over your head.

“Someone is fuckin’ eager.” He chuckled as he pulled his sweater and Henley long sleeve over his head. He was feeling like the man he once was again; you were feeling like a woman reborn as he popped the button of your jeans and tugged the zipper down as you reached for his belt in a haste, listening to the familiar metal clanking sound.

“Only ever eager for you Joel. You gonna touch me or just ogle?” You teased with a light giggle as your arms draped around his neck. Your bodies were littered with scars, old and new. Two torn canvases splattered with remnants of a life once solely based upon survival.

Joel tugged your jeans down over your hips before his movements paused as his eyes flitted down to the long scar across your lower abdomen. His fingers brushed across the raised skin before he leaned down and pressed his lips to it. “I love you so fuckin’ much, Gwen.” His lips ghosted across your hip bone.

“I love you so fucking much too, Joel. I need you so bad. Please, baby. Don’t make me beg for it. It’s been too fucking long, and I think I’ll pass out if I don’t have your cock inside of me in the next five minutes.”

“Baby, you’re so generous...givin’ me five minutes to give it to ya?” He looked up at you, grinning like a devil as he slowly peeled your panties down your thighs and past your ankles. “What about your pussy? Think she’s missed me a lot too? Cus’ I’ve missed her so fuckin’ much.” He dragged his fingers southward across your pubic bone, dipping into the sweet sticky slick between your folds. “Mmm. Yeah, I’d say she missed me too. This all f’me?”

Your back instinctively arched towards his touch as your thighs spread open the slightest. Between the cool surface of the countertop, and Joel’s warm touch you were positively dripping for him. “Mhmm..she’s missed you too. So fucking much.” You mewled and slowly reached your hand between your bodies as you palmed him through his briefs. “Give. It. To. Me. Now.”

You nearly growled the words out.

“There she is. There’s my fuckin’ girl. Always know how to get your man goin’ huh? You ain’t even gotta try sweetheart. M’always fuckin’ ready for you.” His lips were on yours once more. Kissing you with the same amount of fervency as he always did. His mouth claimed yours as he freed himself from his briefs. You felt his tip notch between your folds as you took a synchronized broken gasp.

Your hands were grasping at his shoulders, nails scraping at his skin as he slowly sunk himself to the hilt. Joel always had this way of making you feel impossibly filled with him. It was as if your bodies were in fact made for one another, fitting like two puzzle pieces as his forehead pressed lightly against yours. “Fuckin’ Christ. Missed this feelin’ of your pussy huggin’ me like this baby. Always so fuckin’ tight.”

He jutted his hips forward with one harsh thrust that had you both shuddering from the intense pleasurable feeling of being connected once more.

“I’ll—I’ll never get tired of this feeling.” You moaned his name, rolling your hips to meet his thrusts.

“What feelin?’” He rasped.

“Feeling so fucking filled by you. So complete. So warm.”

“S’like you and I were made for each other. All mine, all yours.” His free hand that wasn’t wrapped around your hip drifted down to where your bodies were connected. His thumb easily found your clit as he rubbed it expertly in tight circles.

“Fuck! Yes, keep—keep doing that baby. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop, Joel.” You begged him.

“Ain’t gonna stop. I can’t quit you baby. Can’t quit ya. Never can. Never will. I got you, you got me.” He used what was left of his energy to fuck into you the way that you deserved so that feeling that only he could give you would reside deep within your veins even after your body’s were spent, and he had grown soft in your comforting warmth around him.

He kissed your skin delicately as your sweat slicked bodies stayed pressed together. He kissed your forehead, your cheekbones, your eyelids. Your chin, the tip of your nose and your lips. He cleaned the evidence of yours and his releases from between your thighs before you helped one another redress.

He walked you home, arm draped over your shoulders as your slap-happy giggles and enthusiastic chatter filled the chilled night air with domestic warmth.

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