#cowboy!joel x reader

[mrsmandalorian]

city nights

- cowboy!joel x techie! f!reader

-part 3 of city lights, country nights

summary: joel surprises the reader by visiting her and tagging along for ladies' night in the city. something happens to bring up old insecure memories.

series masterlist/main masterlist/word count: 3.1k

warnings: 18+ mdni, reader is able-bodied, no outbreak AU,  pet names (baby, angel, darling), fluff!!!!, flirting, make-out, drinking, drunk reader, almost bar fight, bar settings, jealousy, insecurity, cowboy! joel is a dream man. 

a/n: howdy, everyone! thank you so much for loving this series! 🫶🏼 i hope you enjoy this part. i have been watching some cowboy films and series to get inspiration. the bar scene reminds me of yellowstone, lol. let me know what everyone thinks and wants to see! i would love to hear your feedback or comments! - maddie

The 5:30 alarm rang earlier than expected on Monday morning. The warm arm and body wrapped around you gently pulled away with a groan. Your time with your cowboy was almost over. You stretched your body as you rolled over to meet handsome brown eyes staring into your eyes. 

“Good morning, beautiful,” he whispers as he pulls your hips into his as he faces you. He gives your lips a lazily placed kiss and then runs his scruffy chin against your neck, causing you to giggle loudly. 

“Morning, handsome,” you giggled back. You quickly got up before he could tickle you all over. You find an easy way to escape him as he tries to catch you. “It’s time to get ready for the day, lazy cowboy.’

He gets up with a grunt and rolls his eyes at your comment. You both spend the next twenty minutes getting ready for the day. Your work clothes look very different from what you wear around the ranch. It's more business casual than cute overalls with your hair up. Joel helps you pack your bags and get ready to go. The two of you had this routine down to an art. If you left the ranch at six o'clock on the dot, you could be pulling into the parking lot at work on time. 

Joel made your coffee in your to-go tumbler and set it in the kitchen with your purse and phones. You walked into the room with your toiletry bag in hand. He had already packed the car and started it for you. He was indeed an angel and was better at time management than you were sometimes. Even Sassy knew what time it was as she followed you outside the house to your car—giving her some quick love and a promise to see her soon, walking to your vehicle where Joel was waiting for you. 

You give him a sad smile as you pull each other into a long hug. “I’m going to miss you, handsome. Thank you for a perfect weekend as usual,” you mumble into his neck as you hug him. He pulls away and gives you a quick peck, smiling down at you. 

“I’m going to miss you more, darling. It’s hard to let you go. You know you don’t have to work. Just sit pretty on my porch with some ice-cold lemonade,” he jokes to you as he kisses your cheek, his scruff tickling your skin. Joel was only kidding with you about your job. He knew and loved that your independence was critical and didn’t mind it as long as you were happy. You had a life in the city, and that’s where your family and friends besides them were. You and Joel had excellent communication (most of the time) of each other’s plans without pushing the border of clingy. He did wish you were closer, but he was grateful for every second he got to be with you. You had not told him yet, but there have been talks with your boss about you working from home more often. He might just need to update his internet package for that to happen. 

“I’ll see you soon, cowboy,” you whispered with a soft smile as you glanced up at his dreamy brown eyes that peered back at yours. His large hands gently grip onto your hips and push you against your car. His lips passionately met yours as his hands grip firmly on your bottom. He reaches up to caress your cheek with his thumb as he continues the passionate kiss. Your hands wander up to his brown curl as you follow Joel’s lead in the kiss with a soft moan. He pulls away from the kiss with a cocky smirk as he meets your eyes. “One hell of a goodbye from you, old man.” 

Joel chuckles and pulls his body off yours as he opens the car door for you. “Just leaving you with something to think about later,” he winks at you. He helps you enter the car, bending down to peck your lips again. “Drive safe, darling. I love you. Please let me know when you made it to work.” 

“Yes, sir, I will. I love you, handsome,” you grinned back at him as he closed your door. You both gave each other a soft smile with more emotions behind it as he took some steps back to let you drive away. 

You slowly drove away as you waved back to the cowboy as you went down the long driveway. The memories of the past weekend flood through your head as you drive down the road. The sound of a horn stops you before you get emotional. It is Ellie and Tommy on their way up to the big house. They give you a big smile and wave as you drive past, with you returning the gesture. It made you want to turn around and help them do their jobs for the day, but you couldn’t, sadly. The drive to the city was always more challenging on Mondays, sometimes so bad you would make yourself leave on Sunday so you could go to work. 

You listen to your favorite playlist the whole drive as you dream of your future with Joel and watch the country roads turn into busy intersections. The dream slowly slips from your mind as you remember all the tasks you ignored for the past two days and start strategizing your day as you are a few miles out. 

Your day was average on Monday. You caught up on emails, gossip, meetings, and working on some documents for another company to send by Wednesday. As you headed home from work, one of your friends, Anne, invited you to hang out downtown with your group of mutual friends for some weekday fun. You quickly agree as you want to get your mind off missing your cowboy in the right way. Also, text Joel to let him know your plans for the evening as you catch up on each other’s busy day. 

Hope your day was more exciting than mine! Btw, Anne and the girls invited me to go downtown tonight. It probably won’t stay long. Too tired from last night ;)

You send him the message as you start your ten-minute drive home to your apartment. You were more tired than usual. 

We had a cow get out of the fence. It wasn’t exciting for Ellie, but it was for Tommy and me. That sounds good, darling. Be careful; keep me updated so I know you’re okay. This old man knows all the right tricks for his lady. 

He sends it back, which makes you chuckle. You think of Ellie trying to get the cow back inside the fence while Joel and Tommy “supervise.” You walk inside your quiet apartment and set all your bags down. 

The girls wanted to meet at 7 PM at one of the bars downtown to hang out for a few weeks. They usually did this every once in a while on Mondays to hear about your sexy weekend vacations. You don’t tell them all the details, but they know they are wild and freaky. All the girls want themselves a cowboy now, and you couldn’t blame them. 

You quickly changed out of your work clothes into something comfortable but semi-flashy. You weren’t going all out because you planned only to have a few drinks, come home, and go to bed. 

It was only 6 p.m. after you had gotten ready to go. You sighed as you lay on your couch watching TV and scrolling on social media. As you looked at your phone, the notification for Joel’s text came through. 

The text read: 

Ordered you some snacks for after the bar. Should be there in about 5 minutes. I love you, darling ❤️. 

 It causes you to grin slightly as you lean up and respond with a sweet message of thanks and love. 

After falling back into the pit of socials, your doorbell rings, causing you to jump slightly. Wishing they had just left it at the door, but sighed as you heard another knock. You walk over to your door and look through the peephole. Seeing a familiar face, you quickly unlock the three locks Joel had installed for you. 

“Joel!” You gasp as you swing the door open. “What in the hell are you doing here?” It takes all of you not to start crying as he steps through your doorframe. 

“I forgot I had to turn in my tax stuff to the tax office in the next city over, so I thought I’d come to see you, darling. Make a trip out of it by stopping here tonight and seeing Sarah for early morning breakfast. I couldn’t stop thinking about you all day,” he says as he pulls you into a sweet embrace. “I did come bearing hangover treats.”

“You’re an angel,” you praise him and lean up to give him a sweet kiss. “I can’t believe you’re here! I’m going to call the girls and cancel.” 

“No, no! Don’t do that, darling,” he says as he waves his hands in disagreement. He smiles at you and responds, “You go have fun with the girls, baby. I did not come here to ruin plans, just to surprise you. I’ll be here waiting for you.” 

“But,” you pouted at him as he moved a piece of hair from your face. I want to spend time with you, too! You could come and be our designated driver!” You joked with him and gave him a devilish smile. 

“I don’t want to ruin your time with your gi-” 

You cut him off with a shake of your head. “You’re not ruining anything! We were probably going to gossip about our weekend anyway. Might as well bring you to ‘wow’ them some more. I want you there. We could do a little dancing too.” 

He shakes his head and runs a hand over his forehead in a stressed way. “If you want me there and I’m not affecting your girl time, I’ll go.” He agrees as he grins down at you. 

The bar was packed for Monday night, but was a college town. It was the city where Sarah went to university. The two of you have met many times for lunch or shopping to help your bond since she was away at college. You would meet her most of the time at one of the coffee shops closer to campus almost once a week for a catch-up. It felt good to be there for Sarah. You were closer in age than the two of you would have thought, but still a reasonable distance. It made the bond easier in that way. 

Joel follows you as you enter the bar, looking around to see what the vibe is for the night. There was a good mix of college students and middle-aged adults inside. He doesn’t follow too closely as he checks out his surroundings, and most everyone does a double take on him with his cowboy hat and boots. 

“Oh my goodness! Hello!” your friend Anne greeted you as you found her standing at the bar with two more of your friends. “Oh my! Look what the cat dragged in!” 

You giggle as you see all the ladies look over your shoulder to Joel, who has now wrapped an arm around your waist. “Hello, ladies! Yes, look who surprised me as I was walking out the door. He tried to stay at my apartment, but I insisted he join us. I hope that’s okay!” 

They all giggled as they checked him out. Cowboys were ordinary in the city, but ones that looked like Joel Miller were rare. The night went smoothly as you chit-chatted and caught up with your girls. Joel stayed close quietly, only getting up to get you all refills like a gentleman. “I’ll be back, darling,” he says, kissing your head as he heads back to the bar with another round of drink orders. 

“That accent could make me release in about three seconds. Tell us your secrets, girl,” your friend, Julia, jokes with you as she sips on your drink. “I bet he knows a thing or two about how to use a rope or whip.” 

“Alright, alright. You are going to make her go all shy on us! You already know he knows what he is doing. Don’t you guys remember that big hickey she tried to hide at the beach last summer?” Anne says she wants to get the other girls off the subject of her love life. They all lose interest and start talking about some new show on Netflix. 

Your focus in the conversation faded as Anne poked you to get your attention. She moved her eyes to the situation she was referring to so it wouldn’t draw too much attention. Joel was at the bar, with two girls cornering him as he ordered drinks. They stood there twirling their hair and throwing their breast towards him. He looked so annoyed at them that you almost walked over there, not in jealousy, but to protect him from them. Joel tried to pass them with the tray of drinks. They kept pressuring him, though.

Anne looked at you with an extensive shocked look, “what are you going to do?” She asked worriedly. You grinned at her concern as she looked back at you with big, worried eyes. You were going to do nothing. You knew Joel was far from interested in any of the women in this bar. It took you a long time to realize this, but you know it now.

“Nothing. There’s nothing to worry about from him. Maybe them, but not Joel,” you softly responded to your friend as you made eye contact with Joel. He rolled his eyes at the girls and pushed his way through them successfully without a word. 

“How do you know? Most men would not do something like that.” Anne responds as she watches Joel return with the round of drinks. 

“I just know,” you replied as you greeted the cowboy with a peck on the lips as you handed out the drinks to the girls. This situation made you think of why you knew you were all Joel wanted and needed. 

It was Joel’s 37 birthday, the first birthday you had spent together. Tommy decided to plan a trip to a little country bar twenty minutes from the ranch. Ellie and Sarah were seniors in high school only, so they got to stay home for this Saturday night. It was just a double date with Tommy and Mariah. 

The drinks were going down a little too fast. Mariah and Tommy showed you how to line dance, and Joel happily observed from the bar. You were making a fool of yourself at first, but the alcohol confidence came strong over you. The couple and you were having a good time as you danced together. Every once in a while, finding those brown eyes in the sea of people in this little bar. 

You had too many drinks and swung around too many times as you left the line to watch the others. You take a few sips of your drinks as your eyes wander to the bar. A girl stood beside Joel, almost whispering in his ear with a big flirty giggle. You see Joel point to you and annoyingly reply to her as his eyes never leave yours. You lose eye contact as the girl cockily turns around and grins at you. Your feet are moving slowly before you know it. “I’ll take care of this, honey,” the girl says to Joel as she turns to face you, walking over to you as she bites her lip. 

Before you know it, she was almost in your face with a loud laugh. “The cowboy said he was coming home with me tonight, gonna put his co-.” She was cut off as Joel caught your raised fist and pulled you away from her. 

“What the fuck, Joel! Let me go!” You fought back as you tried to lunge at her, the alcohol making everything fuzzy as Tommy stopped the other girl from fighting you. Joel calmed you down as he pulled you towards the bar, getting you a glass of water. “Did you say those things to her? You want to take her home?” 

“You know good and well that I didn’t, darling. Just some trashy girl who wants some attention. Ignore her.” He says to rub your back as you drink some water to calm down a little. He walks you outside towards his old truck as he helps you walk. “I hope you know you are the most intelligent, thoughtful, and beautiful woman I have ever seen. I will worship the ground you walk on until I can’t. You are all that I need and want. It’s you, only you, darling.” He says as he cups your cheeks to ground you. His words cause the drunken waterworks to start as you kiss him sweetly. By the time the two of you had gotten home, you were almost sober and hornier than ever after Joel’s passionate confession. The two of you were tangled in his sheets the rest of his birthday weekend. 

This incident and many other passionate times have shown that you are the only one for Joel. Knowing Joel's loyalty and protection over you and the ones he loves made you more confident in our relationship. You were one of a few people who knew the real sassy cowboy, Joel Miller.  

The two of you left the bar with everyone else as you helped everyone get their Uber and said goodbye. Joel drove you back to your apartment as he had only one beer the whole night. He enables you to stumble into the bathroom to do your nightly routine and shower. “I love you so much,” you mumbles against him as he helps you into one of your pajamas. 

“I love you more, darling,” he says as he kisses your head and helps you get into bed with a glass of water, headache medicine, and snacks. The two of you end the night snuggling and watching trash television while you drunkenly talk to him until you fall asleep. 

Joel held you all night as you enjoyed this special night together. He kissed your head before falling asleep, hoping this would be a regular night thing one day. 

thank you for reading! let me know what you think!🤍

#cowboy!joel x reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal imagine

[gracieheartspedro]

Your Needs, My Needs

THE PRELUDE

a masterlist of how you can help gaza

pairing: cowboy!joel x f!reader (no outbreak)

description: you have made it to your new home in taylor, texas. your anxiety of owning your our home and being alone is coming to a head, but you need to be productive. a trip to the local furniture turns into you meeting some locals and your new cowboy neighbor.

word count: 3.7k words

warnings: there is no smut in this part. still MINORS DNI! no use of y/n! vague talk of reader's old life before texas, no real description of the reader, description of small age gap, joel being a sarcastic shithead. sarah is canon, so joel is a dad. distracted driving. talks of consuming food. reader has mental illness, mainly described as anxiety, but could be other illnesses. I make it pretty vague. the reader likes football? lmfao

author's note: this is the prelude to the many parts I have planned for these two. this is sort of just setting up everything. I want a slow burn for these two, so hopefully these first couple parts make you guys sweat with anticipation. I also wanna quickly thank all of you for the love on the preview of this fic. I hope you all enjoy it! let me know what y'all think. YEEHAW!

“Sign here and she’s all yours.”

When you brought the pen to the dotted line, you knew that this was going to be the start of your new life. 

While you were nervous about taking on such a huge project, you were ready to find solace in your alone time and work on yourself along with the beautiful farmhouse. You needed some peace and quiet, anyway. 

She was set on 20 acres of land on the outskirts of a small town called Taylor. The land looked like something out of a movie, it’s rolling hills and sprawling fields. 

The house was about 130 years old and needed a lot of TLC. You found it online after hours of scrolling. It was still liveable, but the older couple who owned it before moved to a retirement community and could not keep up with the maintenance. When the inheritance hit your bank account, you called the local realtor and told them you would be flying out there to check it out. When the car pulled up the long driveway, you knew that it would be yours. 

Texas was a new start for you. And boy, were you ready for it. 

You did not have a lot to move in, just a small UHaul full of boxes of clothes and miscellaneous trinkets. You left your furniture in your shared apartment in New York. You needed to find something that was more your style, anyway. 

You moved everything yourself. You were not sure you were ready to trust anyone to help you move in. You knew no one locally, anyway.

It took about three days to get settled, and by that, you simply put up a shower curtain and finally put sheets on your mattress on the floor. You had also created a laundry list of random things you wanted to get done around the house in the next month. Priority number one was getting the bathrooms working. The toilet downstairs doesn’t stop running and your upstairs one won’t flush at all. 

You decided that today was the day you would go out and buy some furniture for your living room and bedroom. You would also inquire to some locals about a plumber. It would take you days to work up the courage to reach out to someone in the phone book, so here’s to hoping you just run into someone on the street. 

You hop into the sedan that you were renting until you could buy a car. It was nice but it was no match for your long dirt driveway. You already expected to pay extra for all the dings on the exterior. 

The roads that lead into Main Street are long and winding. You loved driving, so when it was nice enough to put the windows down, you did so. 

Since there’s no one on this specific stretch, you decide to switch the CD you had shoved into the disc drive, opting for another mix you had made years ago. The radio never played what you wanted, especially the local stations in Taylor. 

In your distracted scramble for the CD, you don’t take note of the large stallion running next to your car. The CD is wedged between the seat and the main console and your fingers cannot reach the awkward position. 

You’re not speeding. But when a giant horse runs out in front of you, you can not hit the break quickly enough. You stop breathing, bracing for impact. You jerk the wheel slightly, swerving away from the steed.  Before your front end can make an impact, the horse is snatched back towards the divot in the road. 

You are in complete and utter shock over how abruptly it all happened. 

Your eye eventually catches a man on horseback, his cowboy hat shields most of his face, but you are more focused on how built this man looks. His biceps were straining against his button-up shirt as he held the lasso taut against his chest. His legs were locked around the brown stallion he was on, his jeans riddled with mud and dust. He had dark curls that peaked out from under his hat.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” You yell, your car slowly inching forward from its spot in the middle of the road, “Where did that thing even come from?”

The mysterious cowboy just shakes his head and trots away, clicking his tongue to guide the horse back into the field. 

Your heart felt like it may leap out of your chest. A car was chugging down the road ahead of you, so you knew you had to move out of the way. You turn into your lane and slowly start down the road again.

You do not even bother trying to find the CD, again. You would rather sit in complete silence. 

-

When you make it to the small stretch of downtown, your heart rate slows down. You spot a local furniture store that looks a bit dated. It was your best bet plus, you wanted to stand on solid ground and gain your bearings. 

You parallel park rather terribly and hop out of your car. You huff loudly, throwing your purse over your shoulder and slamming the door behind you. 

A hot cowboy saved your life. 

It’s the most Texas thing that’s happened to you since you moved here. 

You head inside the storefront. A smaller white-haired lady sits at the front desk, her head in a gossip magazine. 

“Well, hello there,” You muster in your best cheery voice, trying to act like you did not almost die, “I’m lookin’ for some furniture.”

She chuckles as she places her reading next to the register, “Well, you came to the right place, sweetheart.”

You return the laugh, glancing around the large store. Couches and recliners in rows in the front, wooden bed sets lining the back wall. You were so indecisive, you were not completely sure where to start. 

“I need a bedroom set and a couch or two. I just moved into th-”

“The old Caldwell farmhouse,” She cuts you off, hopping off her stool, “Saw you movin’ in a couple days ago. My boy is your neighbor.”

The joke about small towns is always true, you know that already. Everyone knows everyone else’s business. You could not shit without someone knowing about it. 

You raise your eyebrows, acting like you’re shocked she knows about you already. “Yes, that’s right. Your boy?”

“My oldest son, Joel. He lives across the way from ya,” She starts gesturing towards the couches, “Pop a squat on one and see which one ya like.”

You end up sitting on every couch before landing on a brown leather one with a matching loveseat. The old woman is a great saleswoman on top of being sickly sweet. She told you since you are one of her first customers of the month, she would give you a great discount on a coffee table. You were a sucker for a good deal. 

You knew what bed set you wanted immediately. It was a light-washed wood with tall pillars sticking out of every corner. It came with two matching dressers and one nightstand. It was only you, so you didn’t quite care about another side table anyway. 

When the lady starts tallying up your total, you watch the slow-moving downtown. A couple walking across the street into the small diner. An older gentleman walking his small dog. The rickety old trucks that loudly took up the roads. 

You’re so stuck in your head, you don’t even hear what your total is. All you do is hand over your credit card. She smiles and giggles as she swipes the card. 

“So I’ll have my boy deliver it to you tomorrow. He is busy workin’ today, but I’ll have him get it to you. He’s quite the handyman, always busy doing jobs around town. Will you be home in the morning?”

You would have to have some strange man in your home to set up the heavy wooden furniture. It made the hairs on your arm stand up. You knew you would not be able to haul it all, so you had to take the leap of faith and hope and pray this frail old lady’s son is not a serial killer. Or stalker. Or both. 

You needed your furniture, after all. 

It will be okay, you tell yourself. 

“U-uh, I will,” You swallow, “I don’t work right now, so I’ll be home all day.”

“Oh, goody! I will send him your way in the morning. He may have his brother with him just to get the bed up your stairs, but I promise they are good boys. If they aren’t, you come to me and their mama will deal with them.”

You laugh nervously, “Of course, thank you so much.”

–

You had woken up late, your anxiety creeping up on you last night. Your brain would not stop racing. You didn’t fall asleep until 2 am. You hop out of bed around 10:30 and wrap yourself in a cardigan. You have been leaving all the windows open at night, but you can tell the seasons are shifting because it gets so cold at night. 

The doorbell rings and it’s like your heart falls out of your chest. You know that after you open this door, you’re welcoming in someone completely new and unexpected and it makes your whole body jitter. You make your way to the front door and take a deep breath before opening it. 

Of course. It’s him. The hot cowboy. 

It made sense. The endless green across from your home had to be part of his property. The road you almost died on yesterday was right beside his land. His house was tucked right across from the end of your driveway, with countless barns spread across a couple of acres.

You were secretly hoping he would be some silly-looking hillbilly, but instead, you find out your delivery man is the ridiculously attractive cowboy from the day before. His hair is tidy and dark without the cowboy hat on. It’s peppered with some white hairs, but it only adds to his appearance. His flannel has the top three buttons undone and his jeans are stained with age. You are finally able to get a good look at his face with no shadows covering his permanent scowl. 

He had to be about 10 years older than you. You were not too far off from wrinkles, but you were still young enough to bear children without being considered geriatric. 

He squints at you when you swing the door open. The sun is hitting his eyes, highlighting the warm rich brown color. 

“Howdy neighbor,” He greets, a small smirk plays on his lips, “’m Joel. Nice to meet you officially.”

You introduce yourself, trying not to stutter as you say your name. He made you nervous. You chalk it up to just being nervous around men in general. But it’s the way his eyes trailed you as you moved just slightly.

You feel the need to clear the air because of the way he’s staring through you. 

“And uh, listen, about yesterday,” You try to apologize, but he cuts you off by raising his hand. 

“Wouldn’t be the first time an outsider got themselves hurt bein’ reckless down the backroads. Just glad you didn’t hit my horse.”

The response has a bit of a bite to it. You back up a step, your body also taken aback by his directness. You are used to confrontational people, but you’re not used to Southern folk being that way. 

“No, next time I’ll aim for the ditch and tell my insurance that there was a silly cowboy in the road that I had to miss.”

You can tell by the sheepish smile on his face that he was not expecting you to be feisty.

“Don’t think they’d give ya’ much money for that,” He says in a hushed but matter-of-fact tone.

You relax your shoulders, trying to collect yourself. “Probably not.” 

He turns back to his truck that has your bed frame in the back of it, disregarding the previous statements. “My brother is comin’ by in a few to help me get this stuff in.”

“Well, let’s not let all the air out of the house right now,” You extend the door wider for him. You are giving this man full access to your home now. You try to suppress your obsessive thoughts and instead decide that you know exactly what you can have him do while you wait. You remember his mom told you he was good with his hands, and since he wants to be snarky to you in the comfort of your own home, you would try to pick his mind about some of your home projects. “Come in, let me ask you something.” 

You begin, gesturing him into the entryway. He accepts the offer, kicking his boots off on the porch. You appreciate his thoughtfulness and for a second, you realize you may be the asshole. 

“Mama told you I was a handyman, didn’t she?”

You giggle, finding it funny that he could read the situation you were about to put him in. “She sure did.”

“She needs to stop tellin’ folks that,” His accent is so thick and syrupy, that it makes your insides tingle, “Got too many people askin’ me to fix their stuff.”

You guide him to the bathroom right off the living room and kitchen, “You know much about plumbing?”

“I’m assumin’ you don’t,” He mutters, “What do you have goin’ on?”

You point to the loudly running toilet, “This thing won’t stop running no matter what I do.”

“Well, what have you tried doin’?”

You both stand in the hallway, you looking up at him with furrowed brows, him looking down at you with anticipation. He was quick-witted, and you started to hate how much you liked it. He gave your sassiness a run for it’s money.

“I’ve flushed it a bunch of times. Cursed at it and kicked it,” He stares at you blankly. It makes your stomach roll, “Jesus, Cowboy, can you give a girl a break?”

He enters the narrow bathroom, approaching the toilet like there may be a bomb in it. He reaches towards the handle and jiggles it violently, which makes you giggle a bit. That’s exactly what you did. 

“So, why here?” He questions, squatting in front of the bowl. He continues to mess with the handle while you process his no-context question.

“What Texas or this bathroom?”

He chuckles, his smile spreading across his beautifully tanned skin. 

“You got tons of jokes, huh?” 

You don’t respond, just shrug your shoulders. He stands up, wiggling the top of the tank off the toilet. You watch his hands lock onto the sides of it, ensuring it will not drop off and shatter on the dated tile. 

“Texas,” He strains, freeing his left hand to mess with the handle. You lean against the door frame. 

You are not even sure why Texas. You just needed to get as far as you could away from New York. You did not want your past to catch up with you, and you did not want to get stuck in a city again. But you could not share all this with a random stranger. He may be in your house, looking at your commode, but you can’t completely trust him yet. 

“I just wanted a change of scenery. I always wanted a farmhouse.”

“Lots of upkeep,” He jabs, doing one more once over of the tank, “‘M thinking you may need a new float or chain. I can get my tools tomorrow and come over to fix it. May need to order a new part, though.”

You push off the wall, arms still crossed over your front. He puts the top back on and finally makes eye contact with you. 

He would come over again? To fix your toilet? 

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, ‘m sure it’s the chain or float.”

“No, I m-mean,” You start to stumble over your words. You swallow, collecting yourself for a moment so you do not look crazy to him. “Are you sure you’re okay coming back over?”

He gives you a thin-lipped smile, “What are neighbors for?”

-

His brother arrives in a rickety old truck at about 15 past 11. He looks a lot like him, but shorter. He has those same eyes though, permanently tired. 

“Nice to meet ya, ma’am. ‘M Tommy.”

You grab his hand to shake it and he lingers a bit longer than you anticipated. Joel stayed on your front porch, putting his boots back on to start unloading the furniture. 

You are thankful the weather was kind today, especially since every evening this week has been stormy. The sun was beating mighty hard on the men as they collaborated on getting your furniture inside.

While they get everything set up, you busy yourself making lunch. You get the bright idea to make them each a sandwich. It’s the least you could do. 

You pile the cold-cut turkey and cheese onto the white bread you had, topping it with some mayo. When you hear their footsteps trailing down the stairs, you race out with the sandwiches on a porcelain plate.

“For your troubles,” You say before standing in their path to the door. Tommy smiles brightly, instantly snatching a sandwich from the plate. 

“Thanks, darlin’,” He takes a big bite, humming in satisfaction. He walks around you, leaving you standing in front of Joel. His eyes are piercing, his lips ajar a bit, but nothing is coming out. 

“Turkey and cheese, I promise.”

He reaches out grabbing the sandwich from you, “No sweet tea to go with it?”

Your heart sinks, instantly becoming self-conscious of your decision to be nice to these hicks. He was so intimidating with his steely expressions and broad shoulders. There was an essence about him that did not speak to his stone-cold exterior. It was more gentle. But you could only see hints of it when he smiled. 

He can tell the wheels in your head are spinning. Before you can speak, takes a bite of the sandwich and shakes his head. 

“‘m kidding, Yankee. Thank you, I ‘preciate it.”

You settle for letting out a long sigh and returning to your kitchen. You spend a couple of minutes, putting back all the ingredients in their proper places. 

You hear Tommy yell for Joel, his voice kind of panicked. You race out the front door and see Tommy balancing your coffee table off the side of the truck. Joel is running to his aid, the dust from your driveway kicking up behind him. You hold your breath watching Joel help him balance the wooden piece of furniture. 

“Can’t have you breakin’ your back before homecoming,” Joel fusses, guiding the legs of the table to the ground, “You know damn well Maria would have me, too.”

“Yeah, what’s a homecoming game without the head coach?”

You perk up, instantly becoming interested in the conversation that you weren’t supposed to be listening in on. The two men lift the table and start heading your way, right on the threshold. 

“You coach football?” You ask Tommy, trying not to show your excitement. You loved football, it reminded you of Sundays with your grandfather. You never got the privilege to go to an actual game, even in high school. 

“Yes, ma’am, for the local high school in Taylor. We are gonna make it to the state championships this year.” 

You glance at Joel when he says it. He rolls his eyes, “Gotta win at least one game to do that, Tommy.”

They place the coffee table right in front of your new leather couch. Tommy grunts, trying not to argue with his brother in front of a strange lady. 

He can’t help himself, though. He instantly snaps back at Joel.

“You know them boys have been practicin’ day in and day out. Why ya gotta be so negative?”

Joel places his hands on his hips, “Cause Sarah told me the guys in her grade are a bunch of dummies. I highly doubt they are ready to kick Georgetown’s asses.”

Tommy starts towards the door, “Just cause Sarah says it, doesn’t mean it’s true.”

“I believe my honor student daughter before I believe my dumbass little brother.”

You are not shocked Joel has a daughter. You are just shocked that she’s in high school. He looked too young to have a teen, but then again, he did have some grays sprouting. You cross your arms over your chest, watching Joel scoot the table across your hardwoods. 

You’re staring at his hands, trying to conjure up a wedding ring on his left finger. But there’s nothing. Maybe he did not wear it when he was working. Maybe he just forgot to put it on this morning. Maybe his passive aggressiveness towards you was simply to ensure there was distance between you and him, giving you subtle hints that he was taken. 

He finally glances up at you, stopping in his tracks when he notes your gaze. 

“Somethin’ wrong?”

You have no clue what to say because you are so trapped in your head about him. He’s a stranger, god damn it.

“N-no, everything is okay.”

“Don’t look it.”

“I just was not expecting the coffee table to look so dark against the hardwood,” you lie, pulling whatever you could think of out of your hat, “Doesn’t it look dark?”

Joel looks between the floor and the table, shifting in his stance, “Don’t know bout that.” 

“O-oh okay.”

“Alright, well we got ya all set up now,” He starts to head towards the entryway. You trail behind him like a lost puppy, “I’ll be by sometime tomorrow with that part for the toilet. I’m expectin’ another sandwich for that one.”

You grab your front door as you wave to Tommy as he heads for his truck. He smiles and gives you a head nod. Joel turns back to you, his ears perked up for a sarcastic jab from you.

  You think back to something he said to you earlier. You crack a smile, “What are neighbors for?”

PART 1 COMING SOON!

taglist (ppl who asked to be tagged): @joeldjarin @taylorsmakingfuckingmacandcheese @mysaviorjoelmiller @brittmb115 @missladym1981 @jasminedragoon

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #cowboy!joel #joel miller #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #pedro pascal #joel miller fic #joel miller fluff #joel miller au #joel miller angst #joel miller tlou #joel x reader

[macfrog]

cowboy like me | masterlist

dbf!joel miller x f!reader | ao3 | playlist

back home in austin after five years away, you're looking for something to do with your summer. what you don't expect, is to find that something in the form of joel miller. quietly charming, ruggedly handsome, flannel-donned joel. you know. your dad's best friend.

please check out individual chapter content warnings before reading!!! this series features adult content.

series warnings: age gap (reader is 23, joel is 48), cursing, alcohol + dr*g use, mentions of pregnancy & periods, physical violence, allusions to cheating, smut, angst, fluff, softdom!joel mostly (some jealous/protective/possessive!joel along the way).

main series

chapter 1: greetings from austin, tx

chapter 2: shameless

chapter 3: grilled

chapter 4: moneyball

chapter 5: welcome home

chapter 6: company

chapter 7: bloodstream

chapter 8: lend me some sugar

chapter 9: checkmate

chapter 10: ride it, cowgirl

chapter 11: illicit affairs

chapter 12: hits different

chapter 12.5: if i had a gun

chapter 13: heart, body, soul

chapter 14: secrets

chapter 15: the sweetest con

bonus

➵ if patrick bateman were a woman

drabbles

➵ dragging joel to the eras tour ➵ sex tape [prelude to chapter 11] ➵ books joel would be into ➵ slow dancing in the kitchen ➵ joel versus a nightmare

#hello apologies for sharing this again i'm fixing my masterlists lmao hope ur having a nice day #cowboy like me #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #the last of us #tlou #tlou fic #dbf!joel miller #dbf!joel #dad's best friend #joel miller smut #joel miller fluff #pedro pascal #pedro pascal joel miller #joel tlou #joel the last of us #joel miller fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfic #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us hbo

[tightjeansjavi]

Hi!! Love your writing!! Can you write a cowboy fetish joel miller with boot riding 🥺🥺

Hi nonnie! Thank you for sending this in! It scratched my brain just ✨right✨ and I hope it does the same for you! I couldn’t just do some boot ridin’ without some plot ;) enjoy 🤠

Dinner & Diatribes

~word count: 3.7k~

Pairing | Cowboy/bounty hunter! Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: you’re the kind of love that Joel Miller has been dreaming of all his life

Warnings: smut,fluff, angst, cowboy in shining armor vibes, unprotected piv, boot ridin! dick slingin, mutual masturbation, voyeurism, implied age gap, dom/sub vibes, sir/mister kink, implied abuse (not by Joel) Joel is a bounty hunter during the Wild West, reader is a runaway bride wanted for murdering three men, filthy language, pining, protective! Joel, assumed unrequited love, swearing, AU that might not 100% be historically accurate but I tried! reader has no physical descriptions such a skin tone or body type, readers nickname is Chickadee, +18 minors dni! Let me know if I missed anything!

Joel Miller knows that keeping a bounty for himself ain’t the way to go about things..he knows that there’s consequences for his actions, an imminent problem would surely arise if he didn’t bring you back to the town you fled from. Wanted for the murders of three men. A wild untamable thing on the run is how the sheriff described you to Joel. And the most important detail of all; I don’t care if you bring her back alive, or in pieces.

And then Joel found you, tracked your trails for miles and miles through the barren rough terrain of the Wild West. You didn’t even put up a fight when you heard the distinct sound of thundering hooves drawing nearer and nearer. You were exhausted, dehydrated, and on the verge of collapsing to the dusty earth while vultures circled ahead.

This didn’t mean you gave up entirely when Joel Miller had you circled, cornered and lasso at the ready. That’s when he took notice of your state, your attire. A once glittering wedding dress now hanging on by threads of shredded fabric. The bottom tooled fabric was now a dirty sand color, blending in with the dirt. Remnants of your eye makeup cracked and stained beneath your eyes and cheekbones that were once painted in a pretty pigment.

He watched from the saddle of his horse as you sank down to your knees, awaiting your inevitable fate to be delivered. “Have you come to turn me in, Mister?”

His head cocked to the side, eyes studying your vulnerable form intently. You couldn’t see his face as it was obstructed from your view with a tied bandana, but even from where you sat on your knees, you could see that his eyes were a deep shade of brown, dark and mysterious.

He dismounted his horse swiftly, silently, boots tearing up dusty patches of earth with each heavy step he took. The spurs on the back of his boots chimed through the air as he stopped in front of you. His broad frame casted a shadow over your kneeling form. His hands were encased in worn leather, and he smelled of tobacco smoke, saddle soap, and musk.

He crouched down, hat tipping forward while one leather clad hand reached for your jaw, thumb brushing across your skin as he tilted it upwards, forcing you to look into his eyes. He saw your grime and dried blood stained face up close. Your eyes flickered nervously as he turned your head to the side.

“Ain’t you gonna get on with it and turn me in? What’re you draggin’ this out for, huh? You caught me, mister. Go and collect your fuckin’ reward.” You spat defiantly into the dirt, a glob of salvia landing on the toe of his boot.

His grip tightened around your chin, jaw ticking sharp like a knife, eyes narrowing in on your face and the subtle wobble of your severely cracked and dry lower lip.

“What happened to you?” He finally spoke. His voice reminded you of fire crackling, ominous thunder and heavy rain. Thick, gravelly, deeper than the Grand Canyon itself.

“What’s it matter if I tell ya, huh? You gonna take pity on me or somethin’ mister?”

He was silent again, appearing deep in thought as he continued to study your face, searching through the grime and dirt for any clues..then, he saw it; The eyes of someone that suffered abuse. His grip around your chin softened

“Stand up.” He commanded.

You struggled to your feet, confusion etched in your features, the obvious sway in your step before two strong hands grabbed your shoulders to steady you.

“We’ll have to move fast.”

“What’re you—” You were still confused, head spinning from his words and malnourishment.

“I don’t turn in folks that killed outta self defense, Chickadee. And certainly not a woman that killed her abusers.” He gave you a curt, tight nod. “Better you than I cause I woulda tied those sons a bitches up and dragged them through the fuckin’ desert.” He rasped.

“You’re..not turnin’ me in?”

“No. Ain’t morally right for me t’do so.” He said softly.

And that’s how you ended up riding through the countryside with Joel Miller to protect you. You’d patch up his shiners, his wounds, keep his belly full with hearty stews that kept him strong and alert. You’d clean his gun, shine his leather till you could see your reflection in the fabric. And in return, he protected you. He never asked for any sexual favors, or for your hand. He viewed you as his equal, his partner.

It hurt sometimes, to flirt with the man you owed your life to and for him to brush your attempts off everytime. As if you were a pesky horsefly, or insignificant gnat. Yet, you couldn’t help it. Joel was handsome, ruggedly so and you’d often find yourself fantasizing about kissing him, feeling his fingers touch you in places you craved to be touched in. To feel his caress on your skin, the bite of his leather, the scrape of his scruffy beard. The stretch of his cock inside of your wet cunt.

You were driving yourself mad with want for a man that didn’t want you back, or so you assumed that was to be the case.

That couldn’t have been further from the truth.

Joel Miller was on the edge to finally just give in when he caught you one night with your skirts hiked above your thighs with your boot clad feet firmly planted in the dirt. Under the pale glow of the moonlight above, and the glittery shining stars, he could see your hand between your thighs, touching yourself and moaning his name.

It felt wrong to watch you, to invade your privacy and your modesty. But he’d be damned if he’d go another night without feeling the hug of your pussy around his aching cock. Or to feel the taste of your kissable lips on his tongue. Damned. Damned. Damned. Fuck, he couldn’t survive another second without knowing what it was like to be loved by you.

For years he had pushed you away despite knowing the pain it caused both you and him. A man could only last so long pretending to not love a woman that he’d throw his life down for in a heartbeat. That’s the kinda love Joel Miller had been dreaming of all his life.

Your head snapped at the sound of a twig snapping behind you as your hand stilled between your thighs. Your heartbeat rattled wildly in your rib cage at the fear and excitement of being caught.

Oh, please. Please let tonight be the night.

“Don’t stop on my account, Chickadee.” He drawled deeply before stepping closer to where you sat.

The heat rushed to your cheeks like a wildfire spreading, your stomach clenched inwards as you began to touch yourself once more, eyes staying locked on his own.

When he was close enough, you used his shins for support as you rubbed your swollen clit in tight, fast circles.

“No.” He shook his head. “Slower. Take your time, darlin.’ There ain’t no rush. Let me see you.” He rasped, before slowly sinking into the dirt behind you. His strong thighs corralled your own almost possessively as his hands gently grasped the hem of your skirts, pulling them up higher. You felt the brush of his beard against your cheek when his chin came to rest along your shoulder. “Nice and slow for me.”

“I’m—sorry, Joel.” You whispered ashamedly through the cool darkness of the desert night. You slowed your fingers, dragging them through the building slick that pooled between the seam of your cunt.

“Sorry for what, Chickadee? Sorry for touchin’ yourself? For moanin’ my name? Why would you be sorry for that?..” His deep tone sent sparks flying through your body as you leaned back into his strong chest.

“Because—you don’t want me, and this is wrong for me to do. To touch myself and moan a man’s name that doesn’t desire me the way I desire him.” A whimper was clawing up your throat, begging to be released, but you wouldn’t allow it.

He dropped the fabric of your skirts briefly only to dip his hand between your thighs and place his massive palm over the top of your hand, guiding your fingers over your clit once more. “This man desires you plenty, Chickadee. I was only tryin’ to protect your modesty..and our hearts.” He whispered against your ear, lips ghosting across your exposed skin. “Been wantin’ to love you all these years we’ve spent together.” He admitted. “I’m a terrible, rotten man for keepin’ you starved this long..” he trailed off, pressing open mouthed kisses at the spot where your jaw met your neck. “M’sorry.”

Those were the last words you ever expected a fucking bounty hunter to whisper..let alone to you?

A shuddered breath slipped past your parted lips, just for him. Your head lolled to the side, granting him easier access as your lashes fluttered shut. “I’ve felt like..such a fool, Joel. A dirty little fool for a bounty hunter.” You took your lower lip between your teeth, biting down harshly and drawing blood to the surface. You let him take full control of your hand, letting him guide and manipulate your fingers to play with yourself just right.

“Shh..I know now, Chickadee. M’sorry, truly. But I’m here now, ain’t I? M’here. Here forever if you’ll have me. I understand if I've bruised and neglected your heart far too many times..I can accept your rejection if it is coming.”

You could detect the edge of sadness in his tone, the acceptance already settling into his bones and heart.

“Joel, please kiss me.” You nearly begged him, dying to finally know what his lips would feel like on your own.

“Why didn’t ya just say that sooner, Chickadee.” He chuckled. “I wish ya woulda just grabbed me by the breeches years ago and knocked some sense into my thick skull. Woulda taken your ache away a long time ago, darlin.’” He said in a hushed whisper. “But I know you were afraid..can’t blame ya for that. Not really. ‘Specially since I ain’t the nicest of men to come by.”

He was taking too long, and you were an impatient woman.

“Joel.” You huffed, fighting the urge to curse him out before you decided to take matters into your own hands, finally. Tomorrow was never promised, not when you and Joel were constantly on the run.

He kept rambling on until he felt the soft touch of your fingertips brushing against the patches in his scruffy beard and the magnetic pull drawing him in closer, closer till he could taste your mingled breath on his lips.

Here in the middle of the desert, with nothing but the moon and stars as a source of light, you finally knew what it was like to kiss Joel Miller. You learned his lips quickly, liking that they were both soft and a bit chapped. As you licked slowly into one another’s mouths you could taste the faint remnants of tobacco on his tongue. It was a bruising kiss, one that both ignited the fire deep within you, and sent a delicious tingle curving down your spine.

So, this is what the girls back home were all talking about. Being kissed by a real man.

And then you found yourself straddling him in the dirt, saying fuck all to your modesty because you had never wanted a man more than you did now. And you wished that your mother could see you now. To see what her perfect little daughter had turned into.

Fuck you, mother. Fuck you for forcing me to marry that monster.

Joel brought you back down to earth with both his lips and his words tattooed on your skin. He caged you with his body, acting as a shield from the chilly night ear that sent goosebumps rising.

He worked your blouse open, growing more frustrated by the minute when the clasps wouldn’t automatically give. He was desperate to feel more of you, all of you because he knew then that you were his, and he was yours. And if you’d end up being the death of him, so be it. At least he could go out being loved rather than unloved.

“You gonna fuck me now, mister? Gonna take what belongs to you, Joel?” You mumbled against his lips in a chasing kiss, growing more desperate as the seconds ticked by.

“Gonna do more than that, Chickadee.” He rasped. This was a promise, and a man such as Joel always kept his promises.

The howl of a Coyote far off in the distant sent uneasy nerves rolling through you, because the realization hit you then that you and Joel were out in the fucking wilderness, and you suddenly felt bare and exposed.

“Jus’ a coyote, doll. He’s singin’ to the moon. We’re safe here, I promise. Ain’t ever gonna let somethin’ happen to you again, Chickadee.” His strong calloused, yet gentle hands came to cup for your face. His deep brown eyes met yours through the pale glow of the moonlight casted over your faces. “I swear on my life, you will always be safe with me.”

and while the lone coyote sang his song to the moon, Joel Miller had you singing your own song, just for his ears too.

After that night spent together, you never had a night where you slept alone. Joel was always there. Holding you, kissing you, fucking you into a blissful state.

He still feared for your safety, and you feared for his. This would never change, but you refused to live in fear for the rest of your life.

It was a boiling hot day under the blazing desert sun. You and Joel were moving west towards California. Hearing about the gold rush there sounded like as good of an opportunity as any. Not even just for the gold, but the prospects of a new life. Joel had dreams of owning a ranch, sheep specifically and living out his days with you by his side.

“Come join me for a swim, cowboy.” You were sitting side by side under the one single tree along the river's edge. Your two horses were drinking their fill after traveling for days in these conditions.

Your cowboy had his arms crossed behind his head, biceps bulging under the thin fabric of his shirt. His hat was tipped down over his head. You only witnessed Joel being fully relaxed on a few occasions where he would let his guard down for just mere minutes.

“Mmm. That’s alright, doll. Y’go on and enjoy yourself.” He said with a lazy sigh.

“Just a quick one together? Please?” You reached over and gently lifted the brim of his hat just enough so you could see his closed eyes.”

“Chickadee..” he said in a low warning tone, peeking one eye open to look up at you before he shut it once more.

“You’re no fun.” You huffed while releasing your gentle grip on his hat.

“M’plenty fun, doll. I gotta keep watch, anyway. Can’t do that if I’m stark naked in the river with ya. What if someone tries to sneak up? Won’t have my gun at arms reach.” He sighed.

“I know, Joel.”

Maybe when we get to California..he won’t have to worry about all of that.

He sat up turning his body to face you before his palm came to rest upon your cheek in a gentle caress. His thumb brushed across your lower lip, tugging it down gently before he leaned in and kissed you sweetly. “Now go on and cool off, Chickadee.”

You kissed him back with the same amount of sweetness before you pulled away and gave his nose a light boop. His face scrunched inwards before he reached around and gave your ass a light and playful swat that sent you giggling as you rose to your feet.

You shot him a seductive wink before you raced down to the river's edge, kicking up a cloud of dirt with your boots.

Joel watched from afar with a hooded gaze as you stripped down from your skirts and blouse followed by your unlaced boots. He couldn’t help but chuckle to himself when your one boot wouldn’t give right away and you nearly tripped before finally getting it off. He kept watch as you dove into the crystal clear waters and reameraged moments later.

He reached into his pack, pulling out an apple and pocket knife while you splashed around like a kid on Christmas. He cut off a small slice before biting it off on the edge of the knife, chewing thoughtfully as he leaned back against the sturdy tree.

When we get to California..I’m going to marry her.

He didn’t want to end your fun so soon..but it was time to get moving again. He brought his thumb and forefinger into his mouth, whistling to let you know that it was time to pack up.

You had been floating peacefully on your back with your eyes closed when you heard his whistle that immediately tore you from your daydream state.

He was just about to stand up from where he was resting against the tree when you emerged from the river. You reminded him of a goddess. Bare, beautiful, skin sprinkled in water droplets that were kissed by the sun. You looked unreal, and he was the luckiest man alive.

“C’mon, Chickadee. We gotta head out.” He called for you when you were within earshot.

“I’m coming!” You bent down to gather up your clothes before the idea struck you. “Can I dry off first, please?”

He let out a grumbled sigh before he ultimately nodded his head in agreement. A few more minutes couldn’t hurt..

“Jus’ till ya dry off, doll.”

With your clothes and boots gathered up in your bare arms, you approached him casually, setting everything down on your nearby saddle while he watched you with piqued curiosity.

“I was thinking about you out there..laying on my back and feeling the warmth of the sun on my skin..” you trailed off.

“Is that so? Hmm..what were you thinkin’ about, Chickadee?” His eyes slowly trailed down your bare body. From the swell of your breasts, down your tummy and thighs and what lay between them.

“Want to take a guess, cowboy?” You asked teasingly.

His brow raised as a grin tugged along the corner of his lips. A game is what you were playing, and he was the willing participant.

“Based on your tone, I’m gonna guess it’s got somethin’ to do with..my cock?” He wiggled his eyebrows in a suggestive manner while his hand casually came to rest between his own thighs. Oh, he was playing alright.

“Mmm..perhaps I was thinkin’ of ridin’ your cock right under the shade of this tree..but that would be too obvious, Joel.” Your eyes drifted down to where his hand was before the traveled down the expanse of his strong thighs and ending at the toe of his leather boots.

He caught onto your drift almost immediately and you saw his pupils begin to darken. “Y’wanna ride my boot? Is’that it? Well, ain’t you a filthy thing, Chickadee. You wanna get ‘em all shined up for me? Drag that sweet cunt of yours over them?”

His eyes stayed locked on yours in a challenging stare while he palmed himself through his pants to relieve the growing tension.

“I do, sir. I really, really, really want to ride your boot.” You could feel the heat rise to your cheeks because never in your wildest dreams did you expect to take part in debauchery such as this.

“On your knees then, girl. Kiss ‘em for me.” He fell right into character with a flip of a switch.

You found yourself lowering onto your knees without a care in the world about the dirt while you bent down over his boots, pressing a kiss to the leather, dragging your tongue down the stitched seam.

“That’s it, doll. Get ‘em nice and shined up for me.” He said while popping the button on his pants open and pulling his cock free from the confines.

“You gonna touch yourself while I ride your boot, mister?” You were sitting upright again before you crawled closer, letting your hands rest along his thighs as you positioned yourself right above his left boot. The imprint of your kiss had already begun to dry from the scorching heat.

“Yeah, doll. I’m gonna fist my cock while you ride my boot like the dirty Chickadee that you are.” He spat into his palm before he wrapped his fist around the base of his cock just as you lowered yourself over the expanse of his boot, taking your lip between your teeth when you dragged your clit right across the smooth leather.

“Fuuck me. Ain’t that a sight. Look at you, fuckin’ filthy girl. S’feel good, Chickadee?”

You rolled your hips forward slowly at the rate that he was pumping his fist. A soft whimper slipped past your lips while your eyes stayed locked on his.

“Feels so good, mister. So—so good.” You moaned freely with each steady roll of your hips, chasing that high. Nothing would ever compare to Joel’s cock. You knew this, he knew this, and you also were aware that this little game would only last so long.

And then he watched you lose yourself completely on his boot with each roll and grind of your hips against the dampened leather. Crying out his name, nails digging into his covered thighs, head thrown back, tears nearly flooding your eyes.

He had the same sense of urgency and realization that nothing would ever compare to the warm hug of your pussy around his cock. That’s when the game ended as his strong arms came to lift you into his lap by your thighs. His lips met yours in a bruising kiss filled with intermingled moans and teeth clashing together when he finally slipped into your warmth.

California could wait a little longer, he wanted to savor this moment for as long as it lasted because now he had the love that he had been dreaming of all his life. Right here in his arms, cock buried to the hilt under the shade of this very tree. Right here with his Chickadee.

That’s the kinda love I’ve been dreaming of

banners made by the lovely @saradika-graphics 🤍

I no longer do tag lists so please follow @tightjeansjaviupdates for fic notifications and updates!

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel the last of us #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #joel x reader #joel tlou #au joel miller #cowboy joel #bounty hunter joel #protective joel #joel miller one shot #joel miller imagine #joel miller story #joel x you #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction

[zialltops]

honeysuckle’s & huckleberry’s

h&h masterlist

Cowboy!Joel (41) X F!Reader (25) | 48k | wip | explicit | 18+ minors dni | enemies to lovers | slow burn | au: no cordyceps outbreak | oral (f receiving) | semi-public sex

After four years away at collage, you’re finally home with the tools and knowledge to save your family ranch. That is, if their ranch hand would stay out of your way

Or: Ranch hand Joel doesn’t know how to handle the return of his bosses prodigy daughter, her snarky little attitude, or her sinfully tight jeans.

i: Oklahoma Smokeshow

ii: Northern Attitude

iii: Blue

iv: Shake The Frost

v: On My Way To You

vi: If She Wants A Cowboy

vii: You Don’t Want That Smoke

Viii: What Was I Thinkin’

ix: You’re My Texas

AO3 | Spotify Playlist

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #cowboy!joel #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #the last of us #joel the last of us #dbf!joel #joel miller fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fic #dilf!joel

[marieslittlecorner]

My Joel 🌾

#aesthetic #aesthetic edit #mine #ethel cain #preachers daughter #americana #southern aesthetic #southern gothic #vintage #vintage aesthetic #western #farmers daughter #cowboy #country #the last of us #the last of us aesthetic #joel miller #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #edit

[jobean12-blog]

Cowboy for Keeps

Pairing: Joel Miller x reader (Cowboy AU)

Word Count: 3,555

Summary: You’re a city girl and you’ve just moved into the country only to be saved not once but twice but a real life cowboy, who not only looks the part but is the perfect gentleman and you fall...hard. 

Author’s Note: Been thinking more and more about cowboy!Joel. And the new pics/gifs from his upcoming movie are great inspo! Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you sweet Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: lots of sweet and soft fluff, some flirty fun, protective Joel because a guy at the bar is a jerk- but it’s all good, Joel to the rescue! 

Joel Miller Masterlist

You’re just about to pull the cash from your wallet when you feel a body close to you. Too close.

“Let me get that for ya little lady,” a man slurs, the stench coming off him a mix of booze and body odor.

You wrinkle your nose but paste on a small smile and say, “no thank you, I can pay for my own drink.”

He grabs your hand to stop you from handing the money to the bartender and you wrench it away, eyes wide with shock.

“I said I’d get it for ya,” he repeats. “’Round here we don’t let ladies as pretty as you pay for their drinks.”

“Well,” you start, standing from the bar stool. “Where I come from ladies can pay for their own damn drinks and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

The bar is suddenly quiet before it fills with the gruff mumbles and exclamations from the other patrons, mostly the men.

“Best let me buy ya the drink,” the man grits out, his face red. “Don’t wanna embarrass me now do ya’?”

“Honestly, I don’t care about embarrassing you considering I said NO thank you!”

You hold your chin high and cross your arms over your chest, only rocking back on your heels when the man stands and invades your personal space even more.

He lifts his hand and you start to stumble backward, unsure of his next move and that’s when strong arms wrap around your waist and you’re deftly moved out of the way and a large man stands protectively in between you and the drunk.

Except he’s not just a man. He’s a cowboy.

“You got a problem,” the cowboy growls, focusing his angry attention on the drunk guy, while keeping you safely behind him.

“Just tryin’ to buy the lady a drink Joel. I meant no harm,” the drunk man slurs.

“Well no means no so back the fuck off Stone,” the cowboy seethes, low and dangerous. “You know better than that.”

The man, Stone, turns redder than before and hangs his head, mumbling some kind of apology before shuffling back down the bar and sitting with a plop, his face still scrunched up in a mixture of anger and embarrassment. Joel stares at him for a beat before turning around to face you.

“You alright darlin’?” he asks.

You nod, unable to speak as you look him over.

Tall, with long legs clothed in tight jeans and a patterned button down rolled up to his elbows, exposing the corded muscles of his tanned forearms, and warm brown eyes that sparkle when you notice the edges crinkling with his smile.

“Mm hmm,” you answer, letting out an exhale. “Thank you. I wasn’t sure what he was going to do…”

“Nothin’,” Joel finishes. “He ain’t gonna do nothin’ darlin’. Not on my watch.”

He tips the brim of his hat and then holds out his hand.

“Name’s Joel.”

You extend your own and he wraps it in his warm and calloused fingers, the contact sending a jolt of awareness down your spine.

After introducing yourself you reach for your forgotten drink from earlier and take a long sip, noting how the atmosphere of the bar is back to normal again, filled with chatter, clinking glasses, and the sound of billiard balls knocking together.

“You sure you’re ok,” he asks again, seeing the slight tremble in your hand.

“Yeah, just a bit shaken up.”

“Alright then darlin’. You just holler if you need anything.”

With that Joel dips his chin and smiles before heading back to the other end of the bar to finish his game of pool.

You turn away from him but can’t help stealing a side eye peek as he struts off, loving the way his jeans hug his ass.

As much as you try to concentrate on finishing your drink you can’t keep your eyes away from the pool tables and when Joel leans back against the wall, one hand tucked into the back of his jeans and the other clutching the cue stick you realize he’s right out of a cowboy fantasy.

It’s in the width of his shoulders, his dark hair that’s just a little wild and peeking out from under his hat, his unbuttoned shirt that’s tucked neatly into his jeans, all supported by a sleek leather belt. He carries the whole look with ease.

Before he can catch you staring you silently chastise yourself and finish off the last of your beer then hail down the bartender to close your tab and actually pay for your last drink.

“It’s already been paid for,” the bartender explains with a smirk.

Your expression morphs into one of indignation as you open your mouth to argue, once again, that you don’t need any man paying for your drinks.

“It wasn’t Stone!” the bartender quickly says, holding up his hands. “You said no.”

“So then how did it get paid for?” you ask, narrowing your eyes.

“Joel paid,” the bartender says.

The information catches you off guard but for some reason doesn’t bother you at all. You smile at the bartender and throw down a nice tip then turn your attention to where Joel’s standing.

You lock eyes and he grins, giving you a wink and a tip of his hat before he’s called for his next shot.

Reluctant to leave but knowing you should start driving home before it gets dark you gather your bag and see yourself out, but not without taking one last glance behind you, your breath catching in your throat when you see Joel leaning over the pool table, his legs and ass on full display.

“Shit,” you mutter before pushing the door open and stepping out of the bar.

Since you’re still new to the area you’re using your GPS everywhere you go but apparently there’s some new construction work on the main road which causes you to turn off the first street you see.  You continue driving and notice the change in scenery almost immediately.  

Flat land stretches out to the horizon, now glowing pink and orange with the setting sun, and large farm houses and barns, as well as fences and stables, line the road.

You contemplate pulling over to check your phone but there’s hardly any service out here.

With a sigh of frustration you continue down the quiet road but your car starts to sputter and then jerks forward several times. You panic and quickly maneuver it to the side of the road just as it stops completely.  

“What the…?” you gulp.

You press on the gas and check the keys, pressing all the buttons on your dash but nothing happens. That’s when you notice your fuel tank is on E.

“Oh my god,” you cry. “This can’t be happening.”

You rest your head on the steering wheel and fight back the threat of tears through your curses. As you grab your phone and contemplate who the hell to call you hear the sound of hooves on the road and see a small cloud of dust stirring up behind a horse and rider, silhouetted by the setting sun at their backs.

Since you don’t know who it is you lock your doors and wait. The rider rounds your car and stops in front, far enough away so you can see him. He tugs the brim of his hat down to shield his eyes from the sun and leans on the horn of his saddle to look down at you with a smile.

“Joel,” you whisper, unlocking the doors.

He throws one long leg over his horse and holds the reins as he comes to your drivers side door.

You roll down the window.

“Hey there darlin’.”

“Hey,” you reply sheepishly.

“What are you doin’ sittin’ here on the side of the road?”

“Well…um…you see…I sorta ranoutofgas.”

“What was that sugar?” he asks, unable to understand your last rush of words.

“I ran out of gas!” you huff, averting your eyes.

“Aw come on now, that’s nothin’ to be ashamed of.”

Despite his words you can see the grin pulling at his lips.

“Don’t you dare laugh!” you chide. “Haven’t you ever run out of gas?”

He ponders your question then looks up at his horse, Whiskey.

“Well, good ‘ole Whiskey here never runs outta gas so….”

You purse your lips to fight your own smile.

“Come on,” he says, opening your car door. “Get your things I’ll give you a lift.”

“But I live pretty far from here,” you tell him.

“That’s fine. My ranch is just a few miles down the road. I have some gas and we’ll bring it back and fill your car up.”

“Wow,” you muse. “Twice in one day.”

“What’s that darlin’?”

“You saved me twice! In one day!”

“Must be my lucky day,” he says with a wink.

You grab your things and secure your car before looking up at Whiskey.

“Ever ride a horse before?” Joel asks.

“Maybe just once or twice, but a long time ago,” you admit.

He places his boot in the stirrup of the saddle and easily mounts the horse.

“Come on’ sugar.”

You take his outstretched hand, his large fingers closing around yours in a firm grip as he helps you on to the back of his horse.

You press yourself against his back to keep from sliding off, thankful he can’t see your face when you feel his hard warmth so close.

“Hold on,” he says before he snaps the reins and Whiskey starts off at a brisk trot.

You squeal and wrap your arms around his waist, clinging to him with fistfuls of his shirt.

When you feel his abs flex with laughter you squeeze him tighter, huffing out expletives.

The ride to his ranch doesn’t take long and by the time you’re turning down the dirt path to his farm house the sun is just dipping under the horizon and the first stars are blinking into existence in the darkening sky.

“Wow,” you whisper looking up as the horse slows.

“Not used to this kind of sky?” Joel asks as he offers you help off Whiskey.

“Not really,” you tell him, still looking up. “The city lights are beautiful but they’re always too bright…”

He nods in understanding, his hand still resting on your waist.

“Can I get you anythin’ darlin’?”

You bring your eyes back to him and smile. “Yeah, I’d love a drink please.”

He pops his elbow out at you and you slip your arm through his as he leads you up the porch steps.

When you get inside he releases you and heads for the fridge.

“Lemonade, iced tea? Water?” he asks.

“Iced tea sounds great, thanks.”

He pours two glasses and guides you back out onto the porch, sitting himself down on the large swing. You sit next to him, close enough that your shoulders brush every so often.

The sky has completely darkened now and the quiet of the night surrounds you. The only sounds you hear are the chirping crickets and the creaking of the porch swing as Joel uses his foot to push you back and forth.

“So do you always ride down the road hoping to catch a damsel in distress?” you ask, breaking the comfortable silence.

He chuckles before taking his hat off and placing it on his knee, his large hand running through his hair and tussling his already wild locks.

“Naw sugar, just enjoy my sunset rides. Nothin’ like that big open sky turning from blue to purple to orange and pink before it all sinks into blackness.”

“I bet,” you sigh, leaning your head back.

You can feel his eyes on your face and you turn his way, a tension, an attraction brewing between you and the anticipation makes you fidget, picking at your jeans.

“Why don’t you come watch the sunset with me tomorrow night?” he asks. “I know the perfect spot right here on the ranch.”

“Really?” you ask, your eyes bright. “That sounds amazing.”

He smiles warmly and stands carefully from the swing, offering his hand. You take it and stand, your arms brushing as you remain close. He places his hat back on his head and adjusts it, your eyes following his every move.  

“I’m gonna grab the gas for your car then I’ll drive you back.”

“Ok.”

You watch him walk off to the barn just across from his house before stepping down from the porch and admiring your surroundings.

He returns with a large plastic fuel tank and once again gives you his arm so he can walk you to his truck. He opens your door and helps you in.

On the ride back to your car you fall into easy conversation about your life in the city before your move and he tells you more about the ranch.

Once your gas tank is full you lean against the door of your car, nibbling your bottom lip.

“I don’t know how to properly thank you Joel.”

“No thanks necessary darlin’. It was my pleasure.”

You look at each other for a moment, the moon the only light illuminating the features of your faces and you see his eyes drop to your mouth.

He clears his throat and hangs his head, his hands landing on his hips as he kicks at some unseen rock on the road.

“Well, I guess I’d better be going,” you say, even though you sound a little reluctant.

“But I’ll see you tomorrow,” you finish, the reluctance replaced with clear eagerness.

“Absolutely. Are you sure I can’t pick you up?” he asks.

“Nah. I have to learn my way around! And now that I have gas I should be fine,” you giggle.

He smirks and pulls his cell out of his back pocket.

“Give me your number,” he says. “This way if you have any trouble you can call me.”

You type in your info and hand it back, smiling when your phone buzzes with a text from him.

“Thanks again Cowboy.”

“Anytime darlin’.”

Before you can change your mind you lean forward and place a soft kiss to his cheek, his beard rough under your lips.

He grins and slips his arm behind you to pull open your car door. With that, you turn and get in, waving before you drive off.

Your trip back to Joel’s the next day is much easier with a full tank of gas and proper directions. When you make the last turn that leads out to his ranch you’re almost overwhelmed by the vibrant green of the grass and the cloudless blue of the sky that stretches unendingly in front of you.

The sky is just beginning to change color and you can’t wait to see the full beauty of a sunset over the ranch.

Joel greets you by the gate, helping you out of your car before he leads you toward the barn.

You give him a questioning look and he quickly explains with, “just had some baby pigs born.”

With a barely contained squeal you grab his arm, the excitement rushing out of you in jumbled words.

“Thought you might like to see them,” he adds, before you can even get the question out.  

After visiting with the sweet babies and cuddling them as much as their mother would allow, Joel asks for your hand and ushers you away from the barn and farm house. You move deeper onto the ranch land, silent as he leads you to a small clump of bushes and you hear water.

“Where are we?’ you ask.

Joel’s quiet, his voice barely above a whisper.

“This is my favorite spot on the ranch. It’s a natural pond, fed by an underwater spring. It’s rare ‘round here, the runoff from the mountains mostly goes the other way. But this keeps the cattle well-watered and it’s a great place to cool off.”

He’s quiet again as he pulls on your hand a bit, and as you sit down, you discover a blanket already spread on the ground along the shoreline.

“Oh look at you all prepared,” you tease.

“Didn’t want ya to be sittin’ on the grass darlin’. Figured this would be more comfortable.”

You feel him scoot closer to you, your shoulders leaning against one another.

As the day draws to a close on the vast expanse of the ranch, the sun begins its gradual descent toward the horizon, casting a warm golden glow across the landscape.

You lift your hand and shield your eyes from the last moments of brightness, only able to peek through you fingertips to see.

Joel shifts and then your face is enveloped in shadow when you feel him press his hat onto your head.

“Does that help?” he asks, looking at you.

“Definitely,” you answer, giving him a quick glance before turning back toward the sunset. “Thank you.”

The sky continues to transform into a masterpiece of colors, blending shades of orange, pink, and purple.

Silhouettes emerge as the light recedes, enhancing the beauty of your surroundings. The rustic wooden fences that enclose the fields take on an ethereal quality, their weathered surfaces aglow with the evening light.

As the sun finally dips below the horizon, the sky gradually transitions into deeper shades of blue and purple. The last remnants of daylight illuminate the landscape with a gentle glow, and the stars begin to appear, twinkling in the darkening sky. The ranch settles into a tranquil stillness, and you let out a contented sigh as you stare at the glimmer of the moon on the water.

“I like this. Being out here. On the surface it’s dark and quiet, but if you use all your senses, there’s so much more.”

“Tell me what you sense?” he asks as he shifts even closer.

“It’s quiet but not really. I can hear the cattle and other animals and every once in a while I see a flash of a firefly.”

You nudge his shoulder and point over the water, giggling when you see some dancing lights.

“I can even smell the grass and something else…rugged and adventurous, like earth, leather, and pine…”

You close your eyes and hear Joel swallow.

“And what about your sense of touch?” he murmurs. “What do you feel?”

Before you can answer, you feel his fingertips tracing up your arm to find the curve of your jaw and cradle it in his hand. He turns your head toward his and brushes his hat from your head.

His eyes fall to your mouth, his own just a breath away as he traces his nose across your skin. Your eyes flutter closed when you feel the pressure of his lips, gentle and delicate, before your entire body tingles with electricity and warmth.

You press yourself closer and when he feels your agreement he deepens the kiss, wrapping his arms around your waist and threading his fingers through the belt loops of your jeans to pull you into his lap.

“My touch is telling me a lot of things,” you whisper against his lips before he moves to trail kisses down your neck. “All of them good. So fucking good.”

He reaches for the hem of your shirt, slipping his fingers beneath. You can feel the coarse, rough calluses on his fingertips and palms as he explores your skin, humming in appreciation.

“You’re soft as silk darlin’.”

You moan his name, gripping his shoulders as he pulls you tight against him to meet your mouth in another heated kiss.

He smiles against your lips, stroking your back with work roughened but still gentle hands.

“What did you think of that sunset?” he asks.

“Most beautiful sunset I’ve ever seen.”

He keeps you in his arms and lays down, tugging you into his chest so your head rests along his shoulder.

“Show ain’t over yet darlin’. Look.”

He points a finger toward the sky and you move your eyes up, darkness stretching far and wide above you, broken up by the glitter of thousands of stars.

“Wow,” is all you manage.

He smooths his hands over your waist and you idly run your fingers over his chest, enjoying the interplay of his muscles underneath the soft cotton of his shirt.

The feeling of him is overwhelming and the heat in your body builds even as you press your thigh along his and soak in more of his warmth. You turn slightly and place your hand on his belt buckle, dipping your finger under the metal and tugging him until he’s facing you.

He props himself up on his elbow, his long legs stretched out and tangled with yours. His eyes are intense as they wander over your face and you can’t help but tempt hm as you bite your lower lip.

He leans down, meeting your lips in a kiss while his free hand finds your silky skin, caressing every inch he can reach.

Your fingers find his hair, weaving through the softness before giving it a tug so you can deepen the kiss. The sparkle of the stars is dimmed in comparison to what he does to you. In every touch of skin, every kiss, even in the way he looks at you, he makes you want more. He makes you want everything.

@sstan-hoe @pedritosdarling @blackwidownat2814 @lorilane33 @justkinsey @laineyreads​ @beccablogsthings​

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #cowboy!joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x female reader #cowboy!joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller imagine #cowboy au #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

open your fucking mouth

kinktober, day fourteen

a/n: this one admittedly isn't for everyone, but it's for some (sdfghjklæø you could say that about everything. copy paste and add to everything i've ever written because we all like different things)

warnings: dark!cowboy!joel miller x innocent!reader, smut, dubcon/noncon, wild west au, historical au, gun kink, blowjob, hair pulling

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist | kinktober 2023

“Suck it,” the outlaw demanded in a gruff voice, stroking his length mere inches from your wide eyes. It had been just days ago that he had forced his way into you and your daddy’s home, saying that you were to provide him a place to hide and if you didn’t comply with his every wish then he’d kill you both.

“I-I-,” you blinked up at him from your position on the floorboards, not even comprehending what it was he was asking you to do, “you want me you what?”

Sucking in an impatient breath, he rephrased, enunciating every syllable as if you were an idiot, “put my cock in your mouth,” but when the furrow didn’t disappear from your brow, his fingers then instead pulled the gun from his leather belt. Instinctively crawling back at the threat, he swiftly grabbed onto your hair before you could escape any further, the cold barrel pressing into your cheek as he then hissed, “I said suck it.” 

Heart thumping all the way in your throat, you slowly lowered your lips to the tip of his dick, “yes, that’s it…” he groaned as you timidly enveloped the bulbous head, “you sure you’ve never done this before? That dirty old sheriff has never gotten you to crack?” he slightly lowered the weapon as you nervously shook your head, eyes fluttering up at him as he filled your mouth, “well, well, aren’t I lucky…”

Suddenly, his hand found the back of your head and he roughly pulled you down, “there you go,” forcing his girth all the way down your throat and causing you to gag around him, “fuck…” 

But eventually, his firm hold did falter as he let you reel back, coughing as you wiped the lewd slobber off your lips. 

Hearing his thumb cock the gun, you found his glare, “open your fucking mouth,” and when you did, the cool barrel of the firearm swiftly slid across your tongue. Could it be loaded? That you didn’t know. But what you were aware of was the way the harsh metal made you feel, the indescribable sensation it shot down between your thighs. 

© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 

#lea’s writing #kinktober 2023 #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #dark!joel miller #joel miller x innocent!reader #cowboy!joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller imagine #joel miller x female reader #tlou smut #the last of us smut #pedro pascal smut #dark!joel x reader #dark!joel miller x reader

[cowgurrrl]

“The arts are not a way to make a living. They are a very human way of making life more bearable.” - Kurt Vonnegut

“They say you don’t get to pick and choose/ who sticks around and who you lose/ but I’m begging God to let me pick this one time.” - Pick and Choose by Daniel Nunnelee

Summary: Being a high school art teacher has its perks. Getting to teach the next generation, making art, flirting with trouble personified by Joel Miller. You can’t date a student’s parent. You can be professional. You can handle this. Right?

01. Something in the Orange: A parent-teacher conference leads to trouble [4.0k]

02. It Ain’t Me Babe: Ellie’s first art club meeting [2.8k]

03. You’re My Only Hope for Heaven: An unlikely patron saunters into your bar [3.5k]

04. Lavender Girl: A field trip [4.7k]

05. Keep the Wolves Away: A bad decision [5.2k]

06. I Believe In You: A bet is made [3.0k]

07. Slow It Down Cowboy: The wall [5.8k]

08. Dear Arkansas Daughter: A truce [2.8k]

09. Tall Boy: Fireworks, Uber Calls, Confessions, Oh My! [3.6k]

10. Sleeping on the Blacktop: The Land of No Return [4.7k]*

11. Dawns: The Morning After [2.9k]

12. I Wish I Was: Murphy’s Law dictates… [3.1k]

13. Little Wind: COMING SOON

14. Thin Line: COMING SOON

15. Lady May: COMING SOON

16. A Life Where We Work Out: COMING SOON

17. I’d Come Back If You Just Called: COMING SOON

#hippies and cowboys #the last of us au #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fic #joel the last of us #ellie the last of us #the last of us #tlou au #joel tlou #joel x reader #joel miller series #joel miller fluff #joel miller au #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller the last of us #joel miller #the last of us fluff #the last of us angst

[molt3ngold]

save a horse, ride cowboy!joel 💘

#god i love cowboys #save a horse ride a cowboy #pedro pascal #Joel miller #joel miller pedro pascal #joel miller moodboard #moodboard #Joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #cowboy!joel miller #man i love dilfs

[thatwriterchick222]

save a horse, ride... two cowboys? (arthur morgan and joel miller x f/reader) AU

summary:

“What’s a pretty young thing like yourself doin’ out here all alone?” The older man said as he approached you. You licked your lips, turning to peer inside the window of the saloon, spotting your fiance chatting with a few men at a poker table. “I’m not alone.” “That’s a shame.” The older man said, his eyes running down your body. “It is.” You replied. “Well…” The brunette leaned forward, peering through the same window you had looked through just prior, his eyes searching. “Your husband ain’t with you right now…” You smiled, trying not to let his smell of earth and smoke as he leaned closer to you cloud your judgment. “Fiance, actually.” “Even better.”

a/n: y'all this one is kinda crazyyyy... porn with plot at its finest. i also love combining my hyperfixations teehee

-------------

“Bend over this table, now .” The man’s gruff voice came from behind you, his large hands shoving you down onto the wooden table. You yelped as your cheek came into contact with the hard surface, your bare breasts pressed painfully down, your body completely trapped by his strong arms.

You struggled, but couldn’t fight the moan that escaped your throat when you felt something hard press into your backside through the rough material of his jeans. 

“Good thing we tied her up.” The other man said– Arthur, you think you heard him being addressed as– and you wiggled your arms that were tied behind your back, the rope looped around your ribcage a few times. 

All your clothes had been forcefully ripped off aside from your pantyhose. While you were practically naked, the men were fully clothed, the roughness of their attire giving you a painful reminder every time it brushed up against your bare skin. A shiver ran through you.

###

You had been out for a few drinks in town with your fiance, whom you honestly had gotten bored of within the span of a few minutes, as per usual. But, it wasn’t your choice to be engaged. Your parents arranged it, and you had no other option but to go through with it. 

This was where the so-called “high class” life had gotten you, you supposed. 

When you went out for a smoke, you spotted two men leaning casually up against the brick wall, their hats tipped down just enough that you had to squint to see their eyes in the dimness of the streetlights. They looked like proper cowboys.

From what you could tell, they both seemed older, but one of them more so. He had a salt and pepper beard and you saw the traces of even greyer hair underneath his tan leather hat. He had a green plaid shirt that had the top buttons undone, and you swore you could see a dusting of chest hair beneath it. 

You watched the man reach up and take a draw of his cigarette, noticing his hands. They looked like working hands, hands that had been through a lot. Strong hands. You watched him blow the cigarette smoke out through his nostrils. Then, to your surprise, he looked up at you, meeting your eyes with his own.

You blushed, averting your eyes immediately, focusing on the cigarette in your gloved hand that was almost burnt out. But you couldn’t help yourself as you looked back over at the man, and he was nudging the younger one beside him, drawing his attention to you as well. Oh shit .

The other man had lighter brown hair, his jawline wide and sharp, dusted in the slightest bit of stubble. He had an even bushier mustache on his upper lip, and his brow was furrowed as he looked up, eyes finding you immediately. 

###

The younger man, Arthur, came over to the other side of the table, abruptly reaching down and fisting his hand in your hair, yanking it back. You gasped as he craned your neck painfully, forcing you to look up at him, a playful smirk on his face.

Your mouth hung open as you stared at him, breathing heavily. His eyes flicked down your face, and you yelped as you felt the other man grinding himself into your backside, rubbing against your bare skin.

Arthur hummed. “Let me put that pretty mouth to use, hm?”

###

“What’s a pretty young thing like yourself doin’ out here all alone?” The older man said as he approached you, the metal of his spurs rattling on the concrete sidewalk. His voice was soft and deep, with an attractive southern twang. You let out a small laugh, shaking your head.

“Young?” You smiled. You were only twenty-four, but from what you had been through, and where you were, you didn’t feel like it.

The other man came up beside him, his hands resting on his gun belt. “Still… Alone, in a place like this?”

You licked your lips, turning to peer inside the window of the saloon, spotting your fiance chatting with a few men at a poker table. “I’m not alone.”

“That’s a shame.” The older man said, his eyes running down your body. You swallowed, shifting your weight to avoid the heat pooling in your stomach. It was intriguing, this outright form of flattery. You liked how forward they were, unlike the people you knew. Where you were from, even hinting at it got you a slap on the wrist. 

“It is.” You replied, tossing your used cigarette to the damp cobblestone sidewalk and watching it go out. 

“Well…” The brunette leaned forward, peering through the same window you had looked through just prior, his eyes searching. “Your husband ain’t with you right now…”

You smiled, trying not to let his smell of earth and smoke as he leaned closer to you cloud your judgment. “Fiance, actually.”

“Even better.” The older one said, reaching up and placing his cigarette between his lips, his eyes dark and hungry as they raked over you.

###

A rush of excitement shot through you when Arthur reached for his gun belt, undoing it with ease and unbuttoning his pants with one hand. He kept his other hand knotted in your hair, the hair you had taken so much time pinning up before you went out. 

God, your fiance was probably worried sick at that moment. Running around the saloon, asking people if they’d seen you, calling out your name on street corners. You fought a smile at the thought of him being worried sick, while you were tied up, pinned between two filthy cowboys in some barn in the middle of nowhere. Part of you wanted him to find you like this. To see you getting something you never got with him. 

When Arthur finally pulled himself out of the restraints of his pants, you felt a chill run down your spine at the size of him. You had only ever seen your fiance’s, and it was… underwhelming, to say the least. 

You swallowed thickly, feeling the other man’s warm hand run up your back, grabbing your arms that were tied. 

You were utterly helpless as Arthur guided himself to your parted lips. “Open wide for me, darlin’.”

to be continued on ao3!!!

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #red dead redemption 2 #joel miller #joel miller x reader #the last of us #alternate universe #rdr2 au #arthur morgan nsft #arthur morgan and joel miller #threes0me #cowboys #rdr2 smut #joel miller smut #pwp #crossover #rdr2 and tlou crossover #arthur and joel are cowboys #yeehaw #save a horse ride a cowboy

[mrsmandalorian]

city lights, country nights

cowboy! joel x techie! reader

summary: enjoying the simple life with a cowboy!joel and his family. 

series masterlist/main masterlist/word count: 1.6k

warnings: reader is able-bodied, no outbreak AU, fluff!!!,makeout session, cheesy and sexy flirting, pet name (darling), drinking (just a glass of wine), no use of y/n.

a/n: hello, lovelies! i am maddie! this is my first time posting on tumblr. i hope you enjoy it! i would like to make this a series and write other stories! We will see how it goes. i hope everyone enjoys cowboy! joel! i would love to hear your feedback or comments! 🤍maddie

Log off your work computer when you see the clock hit five o’clock with a small smile. You were ready for your long weekend with your sexy cowboy. Being in the tech field was much more challenging than some would think. You still have a few projects to review this weekend while you are away. The projects could be done later because it was time to get the hell out of the city. 

The two-hour drive from the city into the country was always the best on a Friday afternoon after work. The hustle and bustle of the city fades as your tires drive down the road into a relaxing retreat. The time change improves the drive, with the sun shining as you drive with the window down and listen to the radio loudly. As you pass the cows and pastures, you know you are getting closer to your perfect haven with your person. 

The ranch was a place you would have never gone on your own or even thought of loving as you did. Joel and his family had built it slowly over the last five years after they bought the land. The main house was Joel’s, which everyone always came over (mainly for his outdoor setup). It was a good-sized house with four bedrooms and three and a half bathrooms inside. Outside the house was a beautiful patio fit for the whole crew with a fire pit, giant outdoor TV, tool shed, lounge area, and hanging lights. Tommy and Ellie both had their own houses on the property. Joel said Sarah had not been interested in her home on the property since she was at college and had other plans (still close by). The ranch part of the property was beautiful and full of different animals, from chickens to sheep. 

The sun starts to set as you pull into the long driveway to the ranch. As you slowly drive up, you can see an outline of a horse and its rider approaching you against the fence line from the rear. You break your car so they can catch up to you. 

“Hello, darlin',” Joel’s Texas twang says as he rides up next to you with a sweet smirk. He is riding his horse, Whiskey. He is a lovely brown horse, especially if you have a sugar cube or apple slices. Seeing Joel in work mode was fun; he was dirty from a busy day with the animals and crew. 

The blush and smile crept up, “Howdy, cowboy,” you joke with a cheesy grin.

The comment caused him to roll his eyes and slightly grin. “Pull up to the house and wait for me to give you a proper hello.” You nod in agreement and let him get a head start to the barn to put sweet Whiskey up for the night. Driving up the driveway, you are passed by Joel’s crew, including his brother and daughter, Tommy and Ellie. You give them all a big smile and wave. Tommy and Ellie jokingly thank you because Joel always lets them off earlier when you come to stay for a few days. 

It doesn’t take long for the flannel-wearing cowboy to walk out of the barn toward you from about 30 yards away. He seems to have washed off some dirt from his skin by wiping away the water from his face with a rag. Getting out of the car quickly to meet him halfway, he pulls you in a bear hug as your bodies come together; all the tension leaves your body.

A sweet, passionate kiss is placed on your lips following a “How was the drive, darlin’?” 

“It was a lot better now that it does not get darker at 5!” you giggle and look into his big brown eyes, which make your stomach butterflies dance and blush hard.

He kisses your head as he pulls away to get your bags out of the car. He turns around with his hands full of your weekend bags and the few groceries you brought. “How long are you staying?” he jokes as he walks up on the porch. “I think so, too. It makes me feel more comfortable with you driving in the country with all those deer.” 

The sweet encounter was cut short when a ball of energy ran around the house and circled you happily as she barked at you. “Sassy! Let your mom get inside, at least!” Joel grumbled as he opened the door to the house. Joel had gotten Sassy, an Australian Shepherd when he started bringing animals to the ranch after he had built it for a ranch dog. She was a hard-working dog but enjoyed her evenings off, with Joel spoiling her with too many treats and pets. 

Both of you followed him inside the house and into the living room, where he set all the bags down. You plopped down onto the couch as you prepared for the forty-five pounds of energy to jump into your lap. It felt like she was there in a second. You watched Joel as you pet the dog sitting next to you, “How was your week, handsome?” 

Joel walks over to the couch and sits beside Sassy, throwing his arm around your shoulders. “It was an okay week. I've just been busy and missing you.” He starts to take off his boots and looks over at you. Sassy gets fed up with being squished between the two of you and jumps down to her bed by Joel’s chair. 

“I missed you too,” You sweetly say, snuggling closer to him, his arm wrapping comfortably around you. The two of you sat snuggled around one another for a while. This was one of the rare occasions that you two are not already fucking against the dining room table after the first five minutes of your arrival. It was a bittersweet occasion, but both greetings are perfect. 

After a while, Joel got up and started messing around in the kitchen. He returned to the living room and leaned on the door frame with a glass of your favorite wine. “What are you feeling for supper, darling?” he asked, teasing you to get up with the wine. With a soft grin, you got up and kissed him in exchange for the glass. 

“A bottle of wine and you,” you smirked as you sip the glass, meeting his eyes. He grins and wraps his large hands around your waist, pulling your body closer. The sexual tension and longing were thick in the air as eye contact was kept. His hands start to wander towards your ass, grabbing onto your ass cheeks roughly. This caused you to wrap your arms around his neck. 

“I like the way you think, little lady.” He grunts as he kisses you again, but this time, it is more passionate and rough. His hands kept wandering your body under your shirt, which caused a moan from you. The make-out session became more intense with wandering hands. 

“Hey guys!” is heard throughout the house as Ellie wanders inside the side kitchen door. The two of you quickly pull away from one another slightly as she walks inside the room. “Oh, shit! Sorry guys!” she says and covers her eyes dramatically with a laugh. “ Joel, this is your fault! You made the plans with us for pizza night when Darling gets into town. Tommy said you guys would probably be about done greeting each other when we got back with the pizza.” 

“You’re right, kid,” Joel chuckles as he meets your eyes, kissing your head. “We will have to finish this for dessert, darling.” He whispers in your ear with a wink. You join Ellie in the kitchen, where Tommy simultaneously enters the door. Joel gives him a look, but he gives him a smirk as he takes the pizza boxes out of his arms. 

“Shit, I forgot to call Joel 10 minutes out. ,” Tommy says as he puts his hands on his head and gives his brother an apologetic look with a smirk. You go over and give each other of them a sweet hug. 

Ellie was the one to break the silence. “I’m happy that you’re here! I need some girl advice,” she said as she helped gather the plates and drinks for everyone while the brothers set up all the food. The night was full of laughter and catching up through the two last weeks you have been apart. You all ended up outside watching some basketball on the giant flatscreen. You and Joel decided to snuggle up on the couch with a king-sized blanket as you gossip with Ellie about her love life. 

The pair eventually went their separate ways an hour after dinner. It was always so good to visit with them. Joel was a package deal, as you have always known, but luckily, you were blessed with an incredible family. Seeing how protective he was of his little family, especially you and his girls, was touching. 

Joel was very quiet as you both stayed snuggled on the couch. After they left, you rubbed his shoulders as he moved to lay on your chest. His breathing and body had settled and relaxed. He was comfortably passed out; all you could do was smile and take his picture as you held your sexy cowboy. 

You let out a little chuckle and whisper, “No dessert for us, I guess, old man,” placing a small kiss on his head. You turn on your favorite show as you slowly fall asleep, listening to the rhythm of his breath, which calms you into a deep sleep. 

thank you for reading! let me know what you think!🤍

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller imagine #cowboy!joel x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader

[crunchietoast]

ᶜᵒᵒᵏⁱᵉˢ & ᶜᵒʷᵇᵒʸˢ| ʲ.ᵐ

Pairings: pre-outbreak Joel Miller x fem!reader

Word Count: 2883 (✨Including Bonus Scene✨)

Summary: You loved days like this. Days sitting on his couch in the dark living room of your neighbour’s house. Yes, that's right, you were spending your Saturday afternoons on your neighbour’s couch on a rainy day. But the term neighbour might be a little insensitive after all he was more than any other neighbour you have ever had.

Warnings: implied NSFW, cheesy cowboy books, Tommy being a little shit, eating; cookies and popcorn, mentions of shirtless Joel, swearing, FlirtyJoel™️, use of Y/N unfortunately, low-key cowboy kink, most likely writing errors leave meh alone :') (lemme know if there are any more <3)

You loved days like this. Days sitting on the couch in the dark living room of your neighbour’s house. Yes, that's right, you were spending your Saturday afternoons on your neighbour’s couch on a rainy day. But the term neighbour might be a little insensitive after all he was more than any other neighbour you have ever had.

Since you moved in next door, you and Joel have become very close and spend a lot of time together. You hate to be cliché, but you have grown especially fond of him, more than neighbours should, or even more the friends should. Yep, that's right you had a huge fat crush on the boy next door. But the boy next door wasn't actually a boy, in fact he was a man, a very single man that just so happened to be a loving father, and as you have recently found out, someone very cozy to share a blanket with.

You and Joel’s friendship was interesting to say the least. You two were flirty, very flirty, but you both knew the line and tiptoed on the edge; never dare crossing it. Being close with Joel was just easy, you knew what one another needed.

For example, crying at his front door, face smothered in his shoulder after a hard day. You knew he’d be there. No questions asked but the silence was loud enough. Comforting in a way.

He has made it very clear you were welcome over any time but Sarah on the other hand, uses a tactic you like to call broad-line trickery. You really couldn't say no to her puppy dog eyes when she begged you to stay over for movie night.

“C'mon Y/N! Dad doesn't cook the popcorn like you do!” she pleaded, knowing full well you and Joel made the popcorn the exact same way.

“Well if you insist,” you playfully rolled your eyes and making eye contact with Joel, acting as if it were a chore to be around the adorable curly hair girl and her absolute DILF of a dad.

Joel scoffed and rolled his eyes back as he chucked Sarah’s bedding on the couch that she insisted on having to make a blanket fort with.

“Only if you're Dad says it okay though.” You say again with a smile on your face. Sarah exclaimed in joy.

“Okay with it? Pft! Dad would make you move in if you'd let him” Sarah made sly eyes at Joel as his eyes widened before he threw a pillow at his daughter.

“Okay, that's enough! If you want Y/N to stay you better go get more blankets and pillow, hurry up or the pizzas gonna come and you’re not gonna get any…” Joel teased as he picked up the home phone from the coffee table. Sarah ran upstairs with loud thumps you and Joel chuckled quietly.

“Move in huh?” You battered your eyes.

“You shush girl, or no pizza for you either” he narrows his eyes at you.

So yes, you loved sitting on his couch on a cold rainy day more than anything. You two didn't even need to talk really, simply sitting on the couch with your legs laid on top of his lap as you read a book, his thumb gently rubbing your ankle where your sweatpants and socks don't exactly meet as he watches whatever is on the tv on a quiet volume.

Some would think you’re a couple, which in all honestly would make sense, but nope. Neither of you says anything for fear of ruining the comfortable abode you’ve made yourself. So, sitting here will have to do for now.

“When is Sarah gonna be back?” You asked glancing up from your cheesy cowboy novel.

“Why? My company not enough?” he pretended to be offended and you giggled and shook your head as your eyes rolled, “she’s gettin’ dropped off at Tommy’s tonight, she wanted to have a slumber party with her uncle apparently. Gon’ get him to tell her all bout’ his date on Tuesday” he deadpanned. You chuckled slightly at the thought of Tommy and Sarah having a ‘slumber party’, you can imagine it now, Sarah braiding his hair as he rants and swoons about the pretty girl he just went on a date with. “He better keep it PG, don’t want Sarah coming home tellin’ me all about how Uncle Tommy just got laid” he said, which only made you laugh louder, head thrown back against the arm rest of the couch.

“Now that would be hilarious” you said as you stood up from the couch, throwing the fluffy blanket and book onto the couch next to Joel as you walked to the kitchen.

“Yeah,” you heard him scoff from the living room as you got a bag of popcorn out of the cabinet. “For you. I’ll be the one that has to give Sarah the talk unless you wanna give it a go Darlin'” He laughed loudly at the thought.

“I’ll leave it to you, thanks” you say sheepishly as you pressed the buttons on the microwave, then grabbing a cookie from the jar above the microwave, which are surprisingly still here. Joel and Tommy love the cookies that you and Sarah make, they never usually last a week.

A few seconds past with nothing but the sound of the popcorn popping, the TV on low volume and the heavy rain hitting the windows and roof outside. It was peaceful.

“His hands were rough, just like she imagined. Real hard-working hands must be from all horse riding and heavy lifting he’s been doing she thought to herself. Those same hands now moved down her body slowly,” You heard Joel say from the living room.

‘What in the world is he on abo-’

Your book. He’s reading your book.

“What’s a pretty lady like you doing not getting touched the way she shoul-” he continued.

“JOEL NO! PUT IT DOW-” you ran into the living room diving onto the couch scrambling to get the book from his grasp. His laughter boomed loudly as he held the book out of her reach.

“Is this what you've been readin’ all this time sweetheart? Paper porn?” Joel laughs loudly as you’re still trying to reach the book, climbing all over him in the hopes of getting it back.

“Joel! give it back, it’s not what it looks like!” you said smacking his chest with a bright red face.

“Oh baby, I think it’s exactly what it looks like, see the page was even dog eared,” his laugh only getting louder as you straddle his lap, pulling at his arm that’s in the air with the book.

“No fair Joel, give it back!” you whine as he laughs slow down.

“Alright Alright girl, calm down,” his hand comes up to grab at your wrist that’s trying to get the book. You glare at him crossing your arms with your hand, that Joel was holding, out waiting the return of your precious book. “Oh, don’t look at me like that, here’s ya porn-” you jab the side of his ribs “OW! - okay okay here’s your…literature” he said finally handing the book to you as you snatch it out of his grasp, holding it tightly against you, the glare remaining.

“Cowboys really do it for you?” Joel askes curiously.

“Shut up, didn’t your Momma ever teach you not to touch what isn't yours? Or did you just not listen, hm?” You said pulling his ear gently to add emphasise to your words. Joel grabbed at your wrist again.

“Oh no Darlin, don’t worry I listen real well.” he said smirking as your face burned.

“Dick.” you scoffed, slapping his shoulder with the book before getting off of Joel, trying to ignore the fact you realised you were sitting on him a few seconds ago. Joel just laughed.

“Yeah Yeah, now would you be an angel go get the popcorn for your handsome rugged cowboy?” Joel said reaching for the TV remote nonchalantly.

“Ughh, I hate you” you whine throwing a pillow at his head as you walk back to the kitchen placing the book on the counter, away from Joel, and emptied the popcorn from the microwave into a bowl.

“Where's the book?” Joel asked as you sat back down on the couch, your legs bent with your cold feet under his thigh in hopes of some warmth, bowl of buttery popcorn in hand.

“I’m going to burn it.” You say dead serious as you tug the blanket back over you, Joel shuffling under as well, munching on handful of popcorn.

“What?!” He groaned “I was really getting into it” He continued, smirking as you glared at him again.

“I’ll buy you one for your birthday.” you say still serious as you smack his arm coming to pinch at your chin affectionately.

“Na, why would you do that when we can just read it together, huh? Go on off you go, get the book” he said throwing his arm on the backrest of the couch and shooing you away with his other hand.

Bright red covers you from you neck to the tip of your ears at the thought of reading a dirty book with Joel. With him.

“Absolutely not. There is no way in hell I’m reading that book near you ever again, let alone with you!” You said throwing a piece of popcorn at him. Joel laughs.

“Don't let me ruin it for you, I’m sure you were really into it. Up to the best part of it as well” Joel replies, chuckling as you shove your face into the pillow you grabbed from behind you, groaning loudly.

“You’re such an idiot, I’m never making cookies for you again!” you threaten as your face is still shoved in the pillow.

Joel grabbed behind you knees and pulled you closer to him, so your legs laid over his lap completely, you squealed into the pillow. He put his hands on your waist where your his hoodie had rod up and started to tickle, your head shot out from the pillow and screeched bloody murder as you tried to wiggle from his gasp.

“Don’t be so mean to your cowboy, he loves eating his girls’ cookies!” he said as he continued the assault.

“Joel stop!” you squealed again between words as he just kept pulling you closer every time you managed to crawl away. “Let me go!!” you're screams began mixing with uncontrollable laughter.

“Na-uh girly, you’re not going anywhere. I will not hesitate to lasso you up!” Joel kept the cowboy joke going because he loved the reaction it got out of you. And this, for one was definitely a reaction.

You laughed harder, the joke now becoming more funny than embarrassing. Still embarrassing of course but funny too now.

“Pl-please! I-I can’t!” you screamed as tears welled at the corner of your eyes from the laughter. Joel was laughing loudly as well, showing dimple on his right cheek that you loved so much.

His fingers finally stopped moving and your laughing slowed down, you opened your eyes to Joel’s shit eating grin pasted all over his face. He was sitting on his heels now, facing you, between your thighs as your legs were over his thighs and down by his sides. His hands on the couch, either side of your hips to hold himself up.

You’re smile hurt your cheeks and the tears from laughter rolled down the side of your face. Joel was quick to wipe them away with his thumb.

“Fine I’ll make more cookies.” you say quietly, like a whisper for only him to hear.

“Promise?” Joel whispered back as his smile went gentle.

“Promise.”

The words felt like they had more meaning than they lead on. Like it wasn’t about cookies, or cowboys. Like you were promising something more than his favourite home baked goods. And it felt okay. You didn't know what it was at the moment but whatever it was, it felt okay.

“Good.” Joel concluded. “Can’t live without em’” he said as his thumb gently touched your waist again.

“Me either” you giggled.

This definitely wasn't about cookies or cowboys.

✨Bonus scene✨

WC: 846

“Yes, the bear with the blue ribbon, I got it! Just stay in the car, won’t be long girly!” Tommy called out to the car as he walked into the kitchen from the back door.

“Hi Tommy, whacha doin?” you asked him as you stood at the stove pulling out another tray of cookies, as Joel ate the rest.

“Hiya sweets, just picking up a few things for Sarah she forgot. Apparently, she can’t live without em’ for even a day,” he said as he looked around the kitchen “where is Joel at?”

“Oh, he’s in the shower, shouldn't be too long” you said as you took the oven mites off your hands, chucking them on the bench next to the stove.

“You guys been behaving?” Tommy smirked as he wiggled his eyebrows at you. You rolled your eyes at him and ignored the blush on your cheeks.

“We always do” you smiled at him with a warning eye, that if he were to ask again you would hit him with a wooden spoon. He got the idea.

“Hey Darlin’ do you have my shir-” Joel said as walked into the kitchen as soon as he saw Tommy he huffed and leaned against the counter.

Oh, you forgot to mention, shirtless as well. Since you were indeed wearing his shirt. Why you ask? Don’t.

“What are you doing here?” Joel asked Tommy bluntly.

“Hello to you too brother,” Tommy said smiling slyly at the sight of you wearing said shirt, Joel not wearing said shirt and…wait what’s that, a book on the counter? “Just picking up some stuff for Sarah, the girl really needs a bear with a blue ribbon apparently”.

“Armchair in the Living room on the right” you said as you walked into the laundry room near the kitchen, grabbing Joel a new shirt.

“Thanks” Tommy said as he walks closer to the counter with the book. Joel is so distracted to by the cookies that just came out of the oven, attempting to make it look like he’s not drooling as he stood near the stove top with the tray on top, that he doesn’t even notice Tommy looking at the book.

“’Save a horse, Ride a cowboy’?” Tommy read the cheesy book cover out loud as he picked it up.

You rushed back into the kitchen throwing the new shirt at Joel’s face as he wiped around from the stove top to get to Tommy as well.

“NO!” You both said in unison. Somehow Joel got there first and snatched the book out of his brothers’ hands. Tommy was extremely confused, it took a bit for the book title and the reaction of you both to process, but when it did, and he knew what the book was most likely about a huge smirk smeared disgustingly over his face.

“A cowboy book?” Tommy said as Joel and your faces went red. Joel fiddling with the cover of the pages.

“It’s Joel’s!” you said quickly. Joels eyes instantly went wide as he panned his head towards you. His grip on the book tightens. Tommy looked between the both of you.

“No, it’s not! Y/N, its hers she loves cowboys!!” Joel shouted whipping his head to Tommy as if he was a kid caught stealing candy. He swung his head back over to you with eyebrows furrowed and jaw swingling open. “How DARE you.” He emphasized the word dare.

“Joel it’s okay, your allowed to like what you like. Nothing to be ashamed off.” You smirked at him as you (fake) empathetically patted his shoulder. See how he likes it.

“Okayyyy…. Well, I’ll leave you to cookie making” he pointed to you, “And I’ll leave you, dear brother, to cowboy readin’” tommy said patting the shoulder of Joel. You kept in the snort of laughter as Joel once again snapped his head to his brother, glaring firmly at the younger man. Tommy nods at the both of you and walked backwards to the Livingroom to finally get the bear Sarah wanted.

“You little shit.” Joel said looking over to your sheepish smile. His eye twitched as you shrugged your shoulder and giggled guiltily.

“What? You did say you loved the book…” you said, still smiling, as you picked up the shirt you threw at Joel in the struggle and dusted it off before handing it to him with both hands.

Joel snatched the shirt and tossed the book back onto the counter, aggressively pulled the shirt over his head.

“Tommy, did you find the bear?” Joel asked keeping his glare on you.

“Uh… Yep! found it right he-” Tommy said from the Livingroom.

“Great. Get out.” Joel said firmly. Tommy got the hint and began pacing for the backdoor again.

“No! Tommy please don’t leave, here have a cooki-”

“Bye Y/N!! Goodluck!” He said as the door closed behind him. Your eyes went back to Joel’s which had yet to stop staring. Joel waited until he hears Tommy’s truck drive away.

‘Those cookies better be the best damn things I’ve ever eaten. Or you’re screwed.”

#CrunchieToast #joel miller #tlou #the last of us #pedro pascal #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal x reader #hes so fucking hot guys you dont even understand #cookies & cowboys #tommy miller #bella ramsey #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us hbo #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #x yn #x reader #pre outbreak!joel #dividers and images not mine

[macfrog]

ride it, cowgirl cowboy like me chapter ten

hey dudes. anyone up for some dbf? i seriously can't thank you guys enough for all the love y'all show this series. blows my mind every time. i have been super excited for this chapter for a WHILE. might be my fave so far. who knows. you can grab chapters 1-9 on my masterlist and also my ao3 if ur feeling fancy. love u all sm!!!!!! ✨💘💫

pairing: dbf!joel x fem!reader

summary: joel picks you up from a girls’ night. you’ve plans for when you get home

warnings: 18+ (minors dni!!!) reader isn't an astrology girlie (sorry), more pining beCAUSE, alcohol consumption + a mention of the devil’s lettuce, very quick bit of unwanted touching, even quicker bit of protective joel, soft!joel, softdom!joel, one tiny mention of daddy, protected piv sex this time (feeling conservative slutty max will return), reader rides him into the sunset, age gap (reader is 23, joel is 48), cursing

word count: 6.7k

series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist

You lazily drag yourself over and over Joel’s dick, each stroke drawing you nearer and nearer to your high. When your body starts to falter, you feel him shift, and open your eyes to see him leaning over to the nightstand. His fingers grip the rim of the black cowgirl hat you’d worn that night. He lies back, flat against the mattress, and reaches up, placing the hat on top of your head. You smile. Joel speaks in a low, gentle, but commanding whisper. “There you go, cowgirl. Show me how it’s done.”

You never believed much in the power of the universe. Astrology, moons, manifestation. Whatever. None of it ever really meant much to you. You knew your star sign, knew which cool little symbol resembled you, and that was about it. Everything past that was…confusing and, frankly, a little overwhelming.

However.

If the universe were to send you a sign, one huge, fluorescent, multi-colored, in-your-face sign, that it was on your side…this weekend might just be it.

Your dad’s downstairs, finishing up packing for his work trip. His departure is imminent. Sarah’s been in Nashville since last night. A series of texts she sent you at 3AM riddled with spelling errors and heart emojis tell you she’s been having a pretty good time so far.

You are Joel are…alone. All by yourselves. For a whole…twenty hours.

Can’t have it all, I guess.

Your eyes skim down the texts you sent him this morning, texts he is yet to reply to.

You: Merry Christmas!!!

You took his non-reply for confusion – he is almost fifty, maybe he doesn’t get the joke? It’s a pretty lame joke, anyways. Very lame. If your thumb hovers over the send button before you press it, it’s probably not that great a joke. And your thumb had most definitely hovered. So, you’d followed it up.

You: As in, today’s the day

You: I don’t mean it’s actually Christmas

You: I mean like, happy ‘we’re finally gonna be alone again’ day

You: Never mind

“Hello?” Anna’s voice cuts through your train of thought. “Are you even listening to me?”

You drop your phone, shaking your head clear of Joel. “Yep. Sorry. Just didn’t catch that last part. You froze.”

The image of her on your – pretty fucking dusty – laptop screen rolls its eyes, knowing you’re lying. “I don’t know whether to go with the pink or the black boots,” she says.

“Ain’t your dress yellow?”

Her head falls into her hands. She throws herself down onto her bed and slides her laptop closer. “That was, like, ten minutes ago. I’m goin’ with the pink strappy one now.”

“Pink does say rodeo.”

“Fuck you,” she snaps through a giggle. “Remind me what you’re wearin’, again.”

“Black hat, black boots, black dress.”

“You’re so boring.”

“Thanks. Really looking forward to our night out.”

Anna snorts and then stands back up, strides over to her closet and resumes rummaging. “Black jacket, too?” she calls over her shoulder.

“Uhuh,” you reply, glancing back down to your phone. “Although – it has rhinestones. And tassels. Not so boring after all, huh?”

Anna’s silence drags your eyes from the text thread back to your laptop screen. She’s frozen in place, twisted around with a dress in her hands, jaw on the floor. “Show it to me. Now.”

“Hold on,” you roll over and off your bed, your shoulder stiff from the position you’d been lying in, “I think I left it downstairs.”

“Tell your dad I say hey!”

You pad down the carpeted stairs in your socks, toward the sunlit hallway.

“Dad, have you seen my– Oh, fuck.”

As you round the corner at the bottom of the stairs, glancing over your left shoulder to the front door, your chest knocks into something hard. Steady. Strong.

Something you recognize the feel of before you’ve given him a proper look.

“Mind your step, baby,” Joel says, and your heart leaps.

“What the fuck are you doin’ here?” you whisper, peering around his body to look for your dad.

“He’s out front,” Joel tells you, then takes your shoulder and reels you in against his chest. “’m just here to help ‘im with his GPS.”

He plants a kiss on the top of your head and gives you a squeeze. Your head rests safely on his chest, arms link at his back. If you didn’t have plans tonight, and if your dad wasn’t, like, ten feet from you guys right now, you’d never let him go. Just follow him around, vice grip around his waist, surrounded by the smell and feel of him.

Not that that means anything. You’d do other stuff, too. You’re not…you know.

Your dad’s voice streams in through the open door and Joel releases you.

“It ain’t for workin’, Joel, I’m about to throw it at the f– Hey, kiddo.”

“Hey. What’s the matter with your GPS?”

You lean in to the tiny device in his hands. Joel’s elbow comes up to rest on your shoulder.

“Just won’t connect to the car. Every time I plug it in, it just…” He lifts his hands, screen loose in his fingers, and hands you a bewildered look.

You look at him, expressionless. “Why don’t you just use your phone?”

“Because I paid almost a hundred bucks for this thing, and I’ll be damned if I’m– Alright,” he stops himself, eyes shutting in exasperation, “I already explained this to him. I ain’t justifyin’ myself to the two of you.”

Joel’s laughing behind his hand, pretending to scratch his nose when your dad stalks off to the kitchen and throws the device down, snatching the instructions off the table.

The pair of you follow, both still trying to swallow your laughter. Joel wanders around the table and sits down beside your dad, fumbling with the screen. You dive into the coat closet at the bottom of the stairs and fish out your bejeweled, tasseled jacket.

“You lookin’ forward to your girls’ night?” Joel asks, eyes flitting up and down the leather jacket in your hands.

“Mhm,” you reply, opening your mouth to continue when your dad butts in.

“S’posed to be a girls’ night, but that boy Sam’s crashin’ it, ain’t he?”

“Well, we asked him.” You shrug. “It’s his night off.”

Your dad scoffs, shaking his head to Joel, who looks up to you with a confused expression. “’s the big deal with that?”

“Oh, wise up, Miller. He’s only goin’ ‘cause of…” He wags a finger in your direction, and a smirk peels across Joel’s lips.

“Is he, now?”

“Uhuh,” your dad replies, intense stare still on the instructions in front of him. “Makes no damn sense. I plugged it in using the cable they gave me in the box. Stupid thing…”

You shake your head to Joel, who’s still looking at you, bemused. He knows you and Sam are just friends. Also knows your dad is the most oblivious theorist to walk the planet. Just aiming his gun at the wrong target, is all.

“I’m gonna let you two get back to…that,” you say, turning to head back upstairs. “Anna says hi, by the way.”

Your dad’s eyebrows rise once, his eyes never lifting from his GPS. “Hi, Anna.”

“Hey, Anna,” Joel echoes, smirk on his lips.

“Not to you,” you throw back, hopping up the first step. You hear his chuckle as you disappear.

----------

Anna’s reaction to your jacket in person matches that over Facetime: a deafening squeal. A squeal which she repeats almost every damn time she sees you throughout the night.

“So – fucking – cute!” she exclaims for the fifth time, fingers dancing through the tassels. “And it goes so well with your hat.”

You sip on your cocktail, nodding enthusiastically, pushing your eyebrows up underneath the brim of the black cowgirl hat on your head. Trying to match her energy. Your mind’s elsewhere.

Joel texted you a few hours ago. Told you to have a good night, said something about Sam, but you were stood right next to the dude, so you quickly locked your phone and slipped it back into your clutch.

Now, standing with your back against the wall of Franks, watching Sam play pool with Eve, you feel safe enough to read over the message.

Joel: Have fun baby. Be safe. Tell Sam good luck from me.

You squint at the screen, pulling it away from your face and leaning back in to read it over. Good luck? The fuck does he mean –

You: Good luck??

He replies almost instantly.

Joel: Yeah. Good luck winning you over. Took me, what, a week?

Oh, fuck off. You roll your eyes and throw your phone facedown onto the table where Anna and Kara sit, about twenty minutes deep into a conversation you missed the beginning of.

Your attention turns to the room before you – brick-walled, metal dome lightshades hanging over each pool table. Glass-paneled door to your left leading back through to the main bar. For being a tiny bar on a backstreet, Frank’s is pretty lively. There are bodies everywhere, bumping by each other, drunken arms slung over shoulders, hips swaying with the soft rock song blasting from out front.

You imagine your dad here with Joel, maybe Hank and Bill, too. Playing pool, beer bottles resting on the felt while they take their shot. Or sat on the rooftop, sipping on a whiskey. Talking about you and Sarah. What does Joel say about you when you’re not around?

And what does he want to say, but can’t, ‘cause it’s your dad? What does he think, and bite back when it bubbles to the surface?

Your straw gargles, slurping up the last few sips of your drink. You lean over to Anna and Kara, holding your empty glass up.

“Another?”

They both shake their heads, and you nod, turning on your own back to the bar.

You squeeze between two older women, both dressed smart and sharp. One of them – clutching a Manhattan – shifts out of the way as you pass.

“…one more conversation with him about squash,” she tells her companion, “and I am gonna blow my brains out…”

You edge over to the bar and slot into a free space, propping your elbows up on the wood. One of Sam’s coworkers – her name escapes you – notices you and shuffles over, smiling sweetly.

“How you doin’?” she asks, running a damp cloth inside a tumbler.

“Good,” you reply. “Could I just get a Bud, please?”

“Sure thing,” she says, and reaches behind to grab one. You slide her a note and she hands you change, and then you’re on your way back to the pool room.

As you slink by the two women, a weight knocks into your shoulder, almost sending your beer flying out of your hand.

“Sorry,” a rough voice sputters on your left, and you glance in its direction. Some broad dude in a tight t-shirt.

“’s fine,” you mumble, clutching your hat; a smell of weed choking your throat.

He passes by behind you, one hand lingering a little too long on your waist, and you saunter back over to Anna and Kara.

“That dude stinks, right?” Anna whispers behind a cupped hand, and you snort.

“He smells like he’s having a good night.”

“We’re talking about Romeo and Juliet over there. We’re basically third, fourth, and fifth wheeling,” Kara says, nodding over to Sam and Eve, who’re finished their game of pool and have now graduated to darts.

“I don’t…think that’s a thing.”

“Eve asked me if Sam was single earlier,” Anna says, lifting her straw to her red lips.

“What?” Kara spits out, choking on her drink. “Eve has a boyfriend!”

Anna giggles. “He’s kinda an ass, anyway. Look at them, they’re so sweet.”

“You say sweet, I hear morally wrong.”

“Who says it’s morally wrong?” you chirp, alcohol pushing the words over your lips before your brain’s had time to stop them. Your fingers clutch your phone, still laying on the table where you left it. “You?”

“Uh, it’s cheating, dude. What if Nick found out?”

“’s not that big a deal,” you reply, phone screen lighting your face in a blue hue, “they’re just having fun.”

Anna points to you, lifting her glass. “Here’s to havin’ fun, I guess.”

Kara lifts her own reluctantly and they clink, but you’re distracted. Already typing a message to Joel. Bored. Drunk. Morally wrong.

You: What you doing?

Joel: Watching TV. What you doing?

You: What ya watvhin ?

Joel: None of your business. Go get another drink. Looks like you’re not drunk enough.

You lift your head with a giggle, almost ready to turn your phone around to Anna and Kara and say, look what the dude I’m sleeping with just text me. And then, thankfully, your good sense kicks in and you bring the screen closer to your chest.

You: Kinda bored. Wanna come home now please

Bored, horny. It all means the same.

Joel says he’ll be at Frank’s in twenty minutes. You rest your chin on your palm and watch as Sam cheers Eve for hitting bullseye.

“I think they’re cute,” you whisper.

Anna and Kara are already preoccupied, taking photos of one another across the table. Kara leans into you and you smile, flash blinding your hazy eyes for a few minutes afterward. A few more pictures, couple boomerangs of your glasses cheersing, and then your phone’s vibrating.

Joel: Outside. No rush.

That last part is where he’s wrong. There most definitely is a rush, and it’s in the form of the heat that starts to pool between your legs.

“Alright,” you shimmy off your barstool and stretch your back. “My ride’s here.”

“What?” Anna almost screams, her hand slapping down on the table. “You’re leavin’?”

You nod. “Sorry, babe.”

“Don’t babe me, traitor. It’s, like, midnight.”

“Uh, it’s, like, almost 2AM. I’m tired. I don’t know how y’all do it.”

She sighs, conceding, and agrees to walk with you to the front door. Kara and Eve stop off by the bar to grab another drink. Sam holds the door open for you and Anna and you’re hit by a wave of cold night air, instantly cooling your hot, sweaty skin.

“Is that…Mr. Miller?” Anna asks, mouth falling wide open.

You glance down the street and notice his black truck, parked up by the curb. “Mhm,” you reply, “my dad’s out of town, so he’s picking me up.”

“Can he take me home, too?”

Sam snickers. “Wow, Anna. That’s just…Wow.”

She shrugs, lips closing around her straw as she stares at Joel’s truck. Something inside you lurches at the idea of Joel sitting there, his eyes glued on you, watching everything you do, everyone around you. And then again at the thought of Anna and her doting gaze on him.

“Alright, I guess that’s my cue to skip.”

Anna pouts. “One more drink?”

“I’m good, thanks,” you scoff, patting her head affectionately. I got business to attend to.

You give her a quick kiss on the cheek and Sam wraps an arm around your shoulder, giving it a squeeze before you’re wandering off toward Joel’s truck.

“Hey.” Something – someone – hooks around your elbow, and you turn back. It’s that same guy who stank of weed.

“Hi,” you reply, as sweet as you can, but trying to loosen his grip.

“Saw you inside, you out with friends?”

“Mhm. I’m just leavin’, my–”

“Few of us are headed upstairs. You wanna come?”

You glare at him a few seconds, before yanking your arm from his grasp. “Nah, no thanks. I’m leaving. Have a good night.”

You stagger off, feeling his eyes on you as you go. Joel’s truck headlights switch on, dazzling your eyes, and you quickly click around to the passenger side, throwing yourself in beside him.

Joel doesn’t say hey, doesn’t squeeze your thigh, doesn’t even look at you when you settle into the seat. Just asks –

“Who’s that kid?”

“Uh…not sure. Bumped into ‘im in the bar.”

“He give you trouble?”

“No,” you lean over the console, pulling your seatbelt over your body, and flash him a tipsy grin, “thought that was my job. Givin’ trouble.”

Joel doesn’t reply. Doesn’t take his scowl off the dude outside Frank’s, either. Your eyes meander across to his hand, locked in a tight fist around the wheel. Your smile drops.

“Joel. It’s fine. Can we go?”

When you lift a hand to the crook of his elbow and he feels your warmth on his skin, he tears his gaze away and it lands on you. Soft, gentle. His lip isn’t curled anymore. His brows lift.

His eyes watch your lips as you whisper the words to him.

“Want you to take me home.”

“’s go, pretty girl.”

----------

Joel refuses, no matter how many times you ask, how hard you bat your eyelashes, how many promises you make, to stop by a drive thru.

“Please?” you ask one last time before he’s pulling in to his neighborhood.

He shakes his head. “Look at that, we’re already home.”

“I ain’t takin’ no for an answer, Miller, not until the engine’s off. We’re still driving.”

He doesn’t reply. Just pulls up in his drive, cuts the engine, and looks at you. Shrugs. “Oops.”

“Fuck you,” you groan, sliding down in your seat. “I’m starvin’.”

“Make you a big breakfast in the mornin’, how’s that sound?”

“Wanted a Big Mac, but whatever.”

Your fingers fumble for the door handle, clicking it open. You roll out of the truck and stroll around to meet Joel at the driver’s side. He snakes an arm around your shoulders, steadying you as you walk up his porch steps and into the house.

“I’m fine,” you murmur, glancing around his living room.

“Alright,” he says, tossing his keys and kicking his boots off.

Your eyes settle on the TV screen, paused. Probably around the time you text him. There’s a crowded hospital room onscreen, doctors in dark blue scrubs, all surrounding someone lying on a bed, someone who looks pretty familiar…

“Is that…fuckin’…Grey’s Anatomy…?”

Joel chuckles, peeling your jacket from your shoulders.

“That’s Meredith! When she–”

“She fell in the damn river,” Joel mutters, placing the tasseled leather over the back of his couch. “Derek had to go in after her. Intense stuff.”

“Right? I told you it was good!” You smack his arm. “I can’t believe you’re watchin’ it without me.”

“I ain’t watchin’ it,” he protests, “it was just on, ‘n I needed something to keep me awake. I’m still rooting for Meredith ‘n George.”

“We can watch it from the beginning.”

“Yeah?”

You nod, moving over to him. “And then I can be over here all the time, and you can make me all the grilled cheese I want, and we can lie in bed and…do stuff.” Your chin rests on his chest, flashing him a toothy grin. Hands swinging in his at your side.

Joel’s eyes narrow, but there’s a smirk on his lips. “You’re drunk.”

“I’m not drunk. I had a couple drinks. I’m not drunk.”

“H’many fingers am I holdin’ up?” Joel asks, raising his fist. You punch it away.

“Ha-ha,” you say tonelessly, and wander away from him.

“Baby,” he calls you from behind. Sure, you’re tipsy, and he can be a cocky asshole – especially when he has to take care of you, but that’s a sound you’ll never get tired of hearing. Baby. You’re his darlin’, his sweet girl.

You spin around, very nearly losing your footing, and he’s standing with an arm out, ready for you to take.

You smile dumbly. Meander over, and take his strong hand in both of yours, wrapping your fingers around two of his to let him reel you in against his body.

“C’mon,” he whispers, as you lean against his frame. “Let’s get you upstairs.”

You follow him up, knowing where he’s leading you. You’ve spent more time in there the last few weeks than you have your entire life.

His room is cool, not cold, but comfortable. It’s Joel all over; the muted colors, the décor, the smell that calms you as soon as you stumble over the threshold.

He sits you down on the edge of his bed and kneels, pulling your boots off one by one.

You giggle.

“You laughin’ at me?”

“You’re like my own personal tr…No, not trainer. Wait. Personal ch–”

“Chef?” he says, snorting. “Not chef. Try again, soberhead.”

“Oh, I dunno.” You throw your arms up as he sits your boots against the wall, then stands and takes your hat off.

“This,” he says, placing it on the nightstand at your side of the bed, “is very cute. I like it.”

“I’m cute, too, y’know,” you whisper, pouting.

He smiles, and leans down to give you a quick kiss on the lips, pointer finger under your chin.

“The cutest.”

“Ha!” you roar. Joel twists around you to undo the zipper at the back of your dress. “Joel Miller thinks I’m the cutest. Take that, Anna…”

He laughs. When he unzips you, he pulls the dress off your bare chest and down your legs. You don’t shy away, used to the idea now of him seeing you naked. Used to the idea of him seeing you in any vulnerable state; drunk, or naked, or in a sobbing mess on day two of your period.

You notice, even though you’re a tad dizzy with what alcohol is left in your system, that his eyes linger on your panties a moment before he turns and grabs a tee from a chair.

And something inside you ticks.

“Joel?”

He’s pulling the shirt over your head. It smells like him. Intoxicates you much more and much quicker than any drink you could order from Frank’s.

“Mhm?”

You feed both arms through the sleeves, swallowing the question you were about to ask. He’s standing up now, telling you to get into bed.

He walks over to his dresser and begins removing his own clothing. He only sleeps in boxershorts. Your eyes track him as he yanks his t-shirt up over his toned shoulders; fingers undo his belt, unzip his jeans. Everything is discarded to the side for now; he has something more pressing to attend to.

His best friend’s daughter, laying in his bed, a pool of wet forming in her panties.

He just doesn’t know it yet.

As he slips under the covers beside you, you pull off your underwear in one quick movement. Joel doesn’t seem to notice, or so you think; his arms immediately take hold of your waist and pull you against his body. You’ve gotten into the habit of sleeping pressed against his torso, his thigh between your legs. Joel settles comfortably with you draped over him, and lets out a deep sigh.

“Joel?” you whisper again into the darkness, growing braver.

“Hm?” he replies, starting to fall asleep.

You toss ideas over in your head. None of them good, you’re sure, but you’re getting desperate. How he can’t feel your damp core on his thigh, you’ve no idea.

But then, maybe he can? Joel doesn’t miss anything, especially not where you and your…arrangement are concerned. Can he feel you? Is he deliberately ignoring it?

Maybe he has something up his own sleeve?

“I…was just wondering…”

“Wondering what, darlin’?” His voice is muffled, spoken through unmoving lips. You glance up at his face. His eyes are closed.

You grow more desperate.

“…wondering what your body count is?”

You ask it as innocently as you can, your voice wavering on the words body count. It gets him, though, as his eyes blink open a few seconds after you say it.

“I ain’t tellin’ you that. Go to sleep.” He closes them again.

“I wanna know.”

He ignores you.

“Joel,” you moan.

He calls you by name now, and you’re not sure if you’re pissing him off or turning him on – or both.

“Go. To. Sleep.”

“I’m not tired, though. Not yet.”

In response, Joel lets go of his hold on you and rolls over without another word. It’d sting if you weren’t soaking wet right now, and didn’t have a strong hunch he was hardening under the sheets.

“Joooel…” you whine, sitting up on your elbow. No use.

You take hold of his shoulder and tug him back toward you, rolling him onto his back. Like a deadweight, he remains frozen.

“Ugh,” you groan, and drag yourself on top of him, knees either side of his waist, ass hovering. When you sit back onto him, your core lining up with his crotch, your suspicions are proven right.

He’s hard.

Not as hard as he can get, as you’d like him to be, as you’ve felt him before…but he’s hard.

“Joel…” you mewl into the darkness, starting to grind your bare center over his boxers. The friction feels good, so you apply more pressure.

“If you don’t stop that,” Joel’s voice finally grumbles, “I’ll be sleepin’ downstairs.”

“Sex in the living room sounds good to me.”

His eyes open. “We,” one hand comes up to point between the both of you, as if he doesn’t expect your sobering self to understand which pairing he means, “are not having sex. No sex tonight.”

You sigh, shoulders dropping dramatically.

“Huff all you want, baby, it is not happening.”

“Why?”

“Why? Because you’re a few drinks too deep and it’s three in the morning. I’m tired, it’s been a long night waitin’ for you, I–”

“So let me make it up to you. I ain’t even drunk anymore.”

“No?”

“Nuh-uh. Could count any number a’ fingers you put in front of me.”

“Funny.” He closes his eyes.

“Joel.” You drag your hips again. If anything, he’s harder than he was when you first sat down on him. “I had a few drinks, I’ve sobered up. C’mon…”

You bend your waist and lower yourself to align your lips with the side of his head, peppering the skin under his ear with soft kisses.

“I wanna ride you, daddy.”

This gets him. His eyes open again, staring up at the ceiling. His hands slowly come up to rest on your hips.

“Don’t– That’s low, even for you, kid.”

You giggle and straighten up. When your hands lightly trace down his chest, onto his midriff and follow the trail of hair to his boxers, he doesn’t stop you. Just watches from beneath hooded lids, tensing at each point your fingers touch.

You raise your eyebrows, watching his expression for any sign to stop, and it never comes. He remains in place when your fingertips hook around the waistband of his underwear, slowly pulling down.

Joel breathes in deep when you reveal the tip of his cock, springing up to rest on his lower stomach. You feel your core clench. If he’s not inside you in the next five minutes, you might scream.

Well, you’ll be screaming either way.

You look back into his eyes and tilt your jaw, asking for permission.

“Go on,” he whispers.

Your hands take him eagerly, pumping up and down his shaft, and his head falls back onto the pillow with pleasure.

“Uhuh,” you mumble, focusing on his solid dick, but desperate for more. You give him a gentle squeeze and a groan passes his lips, his grip tightening on your body.

You let go of him and grind your hips along his length, folds coating his shaft in your wetness. Joel’s humming, watching as you pull yourself up and down him.

Then, you lean forward, and your hands take hold of him again. You give him a couple more strokes, eliciting a deep groan, and then line his bare cock up at your entrance, practically foaming at the mouth to sink down on him already.

“Woah, woah,” Joel takes hold of your wrist, “slow down, cowgirl. I gotta get a condom.”

You huff as he leans over to his nightstand and opens the drawer. “Don’t want one, Joel, I’m on the pill.”

“No way, baby,” he says through a chuckle, silver wrapper in his fingers. “We already did that, one too many times.”

“So just pull out?”

“Nope.”

You sigh, frustrated.

Joel holds the packet out to you, smirk on his face like he doesn’t expect you to take it.

So, you do.

You steal it from him and tear the wrapper, fishing the rubber out between your two fingers. Pinching the top, you roll it down his shaft and pump up and down for good measure.

“Ready?” you ask, head tilted, cocky smile on your lips.

“Wait, wait,” he whispers, shoulders lifting off the mattress. He lifts the hem of your shirt, telling you, “Off,” before pulling it over your head, exposing your bare breasts.

He stares you down; legs wide open, straddling him, completely naked, nipples hardened, figure silhouetted against the slivers of light peeking through the shades from the streetlights outside. You’ve never felt so confident, mounted on top of Joel fucking Miller.

His eyes roll back and his head falls against the pillow. “Fuckin’ – knock yourself out, baby.”

You steady yourself with one hand on his chest, the other taking hold of his cock and guiding it to your entrance. You push his head through your folds a couple times, and Joel hisses at the feeling, before you sink down.

You stop after the tip the first time, but it draws the same reaction from you both. Joel groans even louder than before, and you moan as you push yourself back up.

Then, without warning, you sink the whole way down.

He’s so deep it brings tears to your eyes, so big that he’s stretching you out more than you thought possible, hitting all the right spots already before you’ve even begun.

Joel’s eyes are screwed shut, his grip on your hips digging into your skin so tight it almost hurts. His jaw is tight, holding back what you can only imagine are the neediest moans he could sound.

So, you decide to draw them from him.

You lean forward and begin bouncing, feeling his thickness pull out and push back into you, both hands on Joel’s chest now for balance. You’re whimpering, the burn of his cock stretching your tight cunt so good and borderline painful at the same time, but you don’t stop.

“Good girl, good fuckin’ girl,” Joel moans, opening his eyes to watch you ride his dick. “’attagirl, just like that.”

“Joel…” you cry, letting him bottom out each time, feeling his balls slam into your ass with each bounce.

“Yeah? You like that? Tell me, baby, use your words.”

“So – good – Joel – oh!” you shout.

“Such a good fuckin’ girl for me, huh?”

You fight against the urge to close your eyes; the pleasure between your legs and the knot beginning to tighten in your stomach are all you can see, hear, feel, but you want to watch him some more. You want to see what you do to him.

You lean forward even further, moving your hands to the pillow either side of his head, so you’re directly above him now. One of Joel’s hands comes to the back of your head, pulling you down until your foreheads are together, moans escaping your mouths only to be inhaled by the other.

Joel speaks to you quieter, through gritted teeth.

“Like ridin’ me, do ya? Like the way it feels?”

“Mhm,” you moan back, and he brings a hand down to slap your ass. You yelp. “Fuck…”

“You look so good, baby, so good. Such a fuckin’ whore for me, hm?”

Another stinging spank pulls a whine from you so filthy, so loud that you’re sure the neighbors will hear, even at this hour. Joel smirks back, resting his hand back on your hip, where he has a grip of you.

Then, he bucks his own hips, pushing into you deeper than before, so deep you see stars. Your mouth falls open in a silent moan, panting through the searing pain so good that you never want it to end.

“Joel – I’m gonna – fuck, I’m gonna cum!”

“That’s it, sweet girl, cum all over me. Let go, baby, I’m here.”

That does it. The coil snaps, your walls clench. Joel lets out a guttural moan as you throw your head back and ride him through your orgasm. He coos you through it, squeezing your hips, whispering, That’s my girl, doin’ so good, baby as your body rocks back and forth on his cock.

When you come back down to earth, your lids heavy and breathing staggered, you swear your body can’t take anymore. You feel so fucked out that you’re not sure you can sit up straight on top of Joel.

But he’s always been able to read your mind, and this is no different. He pulls himself up and into you, propped up with one strong hand on the mattress behind his back, the other wrapping around your waist. His cock is still buried deep inside you.

“Joel…” you whimper pathetically. “Can’t do it anymore…”

“That’s okay, baby, we’re gonna do this one together, alright? I got you. Can you do that for me? Just one more?”

You link your arms around his neck and lean into him; his strong form doesn’t shift, just takes on your weight and keeps the both of you upright as he starts to bounce you on his length again.

You’re overstimulated; your cunt swollen, fucked-out, drenched in cum, but Joel makes you feel so good that it’s impossible to let him stop. Your arms pull him in closer to your chest to steady yourself, and his groans echo in your ear.

“Good girl, that’s– that’s it, so fuckin’ tight for me, pretty girl.”

When it all becomes too much to take – Joel’s hand squeezing your waist, your clit rutting against the bottom of his stomach, his fucking cock buried so deep inside you that you swear you can feel him splitting you open – you push him back down onto the bed.

Once when you still lived in New York you read something in a Cosmo about spelling the word ‘coconut’ with your hips when riding a guy. You’d tried it a couple times with hookups, and it’d never done anything for you. They’d never done anything for you.

But here you are, nearing your second orgasm, on top of someone making such a mess of you that you brain can hardly compute to spell coconut, never mind your hips being able to round the shape of the word.

You lazily drag yourself over and over Joel’s dick, each stroke drawing you nearer and nearer to your high. When your body starts to falter, you feel him shift, and open your eyes to see him leaning over to the nightstand.

His fingers grip the rim of the black cowgirl hat you’d worn that night. He lies back, flat against the mattress, and reaches up, placing the hat on top of your head. You smile. Joel speaks in a low, gentle, but commanding whisper.

“There you go, cowgirl. Show me how it’s done.”

It’s all you need. It’s all it takes, by this point.

You brace yourself against his chest again, positioning yourself just right, and bounce on him until your vision starts to blur.

The noises slipping out of Joel’s mouth each time your bodies connect at the base of his cock push you closer and closer; every groan and whimper which passes his lips makes you sink your hips down even harder, pushing him deeper and deeper with every bounce.

“So – fuckin’ – big – inside me,” you slur, and Joel moans in response.

When he takes your hips in his hands again, you know he’s there. He’s just waiting for you to fall first.

You give in to him, feeling yourself close around his length, throwing your head back in pleasure as your second orgasm washes over you, igniting every inch of your body.

Joel’s groans meet yours as you lean forward again, slowly rolling your hips to coax him through his own orgasm. Watching him release, buried deep inside, he looks so good that you feel like you could cum again just at the sight.

You feel his cock start to go limp inside you and when he opens his eyes, panting, you smile sweetly at him.

“Fuck, darlin’.”

You giggle, hips still driving gently against his. “Good?”

“So good, baby, did so well. You’re gonna be the death of me,” he whispers with a trembling breath, taking your waist in both hands and giving it a tight squeeze. You roll to the side, letting his cock slip out of you, condom full of his seed.

You tumble onto the mattress beside him, both heaving, moaning messes. Your chests rise and fall in sync, fingers tangling and untangling by your sides.

Then Joel gets up, and wanders over to the bathroom, where you watch him through the open door as he pulls the filled rubber from his soft dick. He bins it, then runs a facecloth under the faucet, dabbing it across his own forehead as he makes his way back over to you.

You can’t hide your grin as you watch his naked form approach; tan lines where his t-shirt must end, dark hair decorating his arms, legs, chest, the base of his cock. He sits at the edge of the bed, arm outstretched with the flannel in hand.

You go to take it from him, but he doesn’t loosen his grip. Just pats it over your face gently, soft gaze on yours, your fingers intertwined around his wrist. Your eyes fall closed, the cold cloth a relief against your warm, sweaty skin.

“Feel nice?” he whispers.

You nod in response. Your chest swells at how soft he’s being, how tender. When he stands to throw the flannel back into the sink, you almost find yourself reaching out to hold him down.

He climbs over you, springing back down onto the mattress with a heaving sigh.

You prop yourself up and shimmy over, positioning yourself on top of Joel, chest-to-chest. He looks down and smirks, running a lazy hand across your cheek.

“You’re so good to me,” he mumbles.

You tilt your head with a smile and lay down on his chest. You can hear his heartrate slowly calming down. His fingers twist through your messy hair.

“I have no idea what you’re laced with,” he says, “but you got me.”

You smile. “Yeah?”

Joel nods. You shift positions, adjusting your aching hips safely between his thighs. “You hurtin’?” he asks.

You nod. “Mhm. But I like it. It’s you.”

Joel’s hands run through your hair and his fingertips trace your shoulders. His touch is so light it almost tickles. You turn your jaw and kiss the back of his hand.

“My dad gone, Sarah out, free house…” you mutter.

“Hm.”

“So, you invite your mistress over.” You lift your head, smirking at him.

Joel’s chest vibrates with laughter. “You ain’t my mistress.”

“Oh really? What am I, then?”

“I am not having this conversation at 4AM, kid. Ask me again tomorrow.”

You’d think of something to throw back at him, messing with him, but your entire body aches, and your heavy eyes are starting to fold closed with how sleepy you suddenly feel.

You pull Joel’s sheets over yourself, turning your back to him. Joel instantly follows suit, pulling up right behind you, your back tight to his chest, his thighs cupping the back of yours, then slipping one between your legs.

His arms lock around your torso under the sheets. Safe. Secure. Nothing can happen to you as long as he’s got you.

“Ten,” his voice mumbles against the back of your head.

You turn so your ear is pressed against his lips. “Huh?”

“Ten. That’s my number. Includin’ you.”

Oh.

He doesn’t ask to hear yours. You wouldn’t mind if he did, but he doesn’t. You don’t think he’s telling you to hear yours in exchange. He’s telling you because you asked. He’s telling you because, whether in attempt to turn him on or simply to know something about him that you didn’t before – something nobody else knows – it mattered to you.

He’s telling you because you matter to him.

You nuzzle back into him a little, a form of reply, and, as you start to fall asleep, you feel him place a gentle kiss to your ear.

----------

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#joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #the last of us #tlou #tlou fic #dbf!joel #dbf!joel miller #dad's best friend #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #joel miller pedro pascal #joel tlou #joel the last of us #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fic #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us hbo #cowboy like me

[anchoeritic]

okay hear me out here...dbf and cowboy joel? too much hotness or not enough?

oh you’ve lost your damn mind. this pairing? you’re changing lives (me).

cowboy!joel being your dad’s best friend and is almost always in charge of you whenever your dad’s not around or out of town. or a good plot twist would be: meeting him for the first time in front of your dad but you already know him due to a past interaction at the bar that led to an unforgettable night of moans and orgasms.

already flustered, you wouldn’t be able to look at him in his eyes. after that one night, you couldn’t ever stop thinking about him and you were sure it was the same for him. there was no doubt about the attraction you felt for each other, it was something electric. even with no drinks in your system, you felt a pull towards him, to his lap. it took nothing more than a couple of words from him to get your panties pooled down at your ankles, back pressed up against the wall behind.

“you usually this loud, darlin’?” he chuckled softly against your lips, his nose nudging against yours with every kiss you stole from him. his hand was already down south, making its way to your warm cunt. you could feel his hand cupping you gently, fingers already soaking in your slick. “you complainin’, miller?” you shot back at him, pulling away to unbutton his flannel. “shut up and fuckin’ kiss me.”

#cowboy!joel #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #the last of us #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader

[zialltops]

honeysuckle’s & huckleberry’s

Cowboy!Joel (41) X F!Reader (25) | 42.1k words | wip | explicit | 18+ minors dni | enemies to lovers | slow burn | au: no cordyceps outbreak | oral (f receiving) | (semi) public sex | vaginal fingering

masterlist | ao3 | spotify playlist

“In just—“ His eyes slip closed when his mouth connect with the inside of your wrist. His lips are warm and so tender you fight down a soft whimper at the intoxicating sensation. When they open again, dangerous amber irises peer back at you like you’re their salvation. “-my cowboy hat.”

Oh—fuck.

a/n: this chapter was so fun to write, I accidentally made it 9.5k words lol, but it was such a relief (ish) to write. Some new warning apply to this chapter, so please be advised of those. We get to see a whole new side to Joel this chapter and we’ll get to see some “in the making of” this chapter in the following one. A little bit of context on why Joel changes so abruptly and the reasoning behind his decisions. I hope you all know how much i love love love you guys for being here for me while i struggle to find time to write. I’m working on getting back on my feet every day and this is the one safe place I have to escape and indulge in my favorite coping mechanism. Much love, H 🤍

Chapter 7–You Don’t Want That Smoke

Your birthday falls on Friday this year, (lucky you) but it also means the First Friday dance falls on your birthday this year as well. It’s the first community event after the cold winter months and by that time, most people are itching to get out of their snow-buried homes. The town usually puts on the event to celebrate the coming spring, hosting venders of all sorts and games for the families. Growing up, your parents would take you to the petting zoo and let you ride the ponies, like you didn’t have a horse at home, like there wasn’t a whole ranch to attend to, animals to raise up and sell, like you could just for a moment, be a normal little girl from a quiet street who’d never sat in a saddle in her life.

If only that had been the case, ever. If only you’d had parents who pursued safe, reliable careers, where they had pensions and retirement, insurance and benefits, instead of breaking their backs for a ranch that had been dying long before it was left to your mother by her parents. Was it obligation that kept them here, or was it something else? Was it the same thing that got you through years of college, all in an attempt to keep your parents' dream alive for a little while longer?

It’s Wednesday, which means you have two more days before your birthday and Melly’s plane lands in a few hours from Colorado, but so far your morning has taken you five rounds in the octagon and is currently coming back for more.

“—No! The statements I just got in the mail yesterday said we have ninety days to come up with three months worth of the mortgage before the property faces foreclosure.”

The woman on the other end of the phone sighs at you and you can hear the way her hands hit her keyboard. “I know that, ma’am, but that was a month and a half ago and we still have not received any payments. The bank sent another letter, requesting that the entire six month worth of back payments be received by the end of the ninety days or the property will be foreclosed on.”

The routinely scripted response feels like an open handed slap to the face, white hot pain snapping through your veins like lightning on the Wyoming plains. You sink down into the dining room chair and let it soak in all the way.

“How many days do we have left?” You hear yourself whisper into the phone but it’s not you speaking, not really—its a absent reflex like blinking or breathing.

“That's…51 days, ma’am. We’ll contact you again in thirty days if we have not received the entire amount by that time.”

Your eyes burn and blur, tears for the years of your life wasted on a useless education, until they surge past the dam and plummet to the paper below. When you look down at the document, your tears are stained red by the ink on the foreclosure notice. “How much will it be, again?” Defeated, Inadequate and Doomed.

“Fourteen thousand, three hundred and forty dollars, for six months worth of the Mortgage and late fees accumulated.” She sounds annoyed when she reads off the obscene number, like she isn’t sealing the fate of your family home, the dream your parents have worked their whole lives for to pass down to you—all wasted on a backed mortgage that your parents took out on the farm when you were born.

The full circle indicates that losing your family’s livelihood was your fault, from start to finish. You didn’t make it in time. All your hard work, and you’re still going to lose it.

“Is that everything, ma’am?”

Click

You drop the phone and sob into your arms, your whole body shaking and heaving with every sharp inhale. In your best attempt to keep quiet, you attract the attention of the one person you long to keep this from, your sweet, well meaning mom.

She’s soft spoken when she soothes you, rubs your back while you dry up your tears against her chest and she doesn’t ask why, just kisses your forehead and smiles one of those sweet sweet smiles at you and says, “We’ll get through this, Honey, don’t you worry about that. We’ll figure this out together.”

And you believe her, enough to reel in your hiccups, enough to ease your searing tears. “Why don’t you take a break from work, Melly gets here soon, yeah? You got everything you girls need?”

You smile at her, thankful for her ability to distract you from the things that keep you up at night. She knows you better than anyone, she’s your best friend. “Maybe we can stop at the store after we get her, but we gotta leave soon—“ you check the time, one hour until her plane touches down in Jackson and it takes forty five minutes to get there alone.

“Actually Honey, about that…I can't go with you. I’m not feeling up to it and I thought I would whip up dinner for you girls. But I got someone to go with you,”

You stand up from the chair and put the papers back into the envelope. “Mom, I really can go alone, I drove all the way here—“ she stops you with a quiet scuff. “You got stuck in the snow and Joel had to pull you out.” Joel, that son of a bitch…that big, sexy cowboy son of a bitch who left you in the snow. Who huffs and puffs and walks around like the sweatiest, filthiest, most delicious version of every nasty fantasy you’ve ever had. Of course she would drag him into this, maybe she’s the one who’s after the help.

“Speak of the devil,” she has this knowing look when her gaze travels past you to the doorway of the dining room. You glance over your shoulder to find yourself smack dab in the middle of one of those filthy dreams, dressed in green plaid and his brown Carhartt jacket, his black cowboy hat resting atop his head with curls peeking out of the sides, kissing the tips of his ears. His beard has grown out a tad too, making him look soft all over, scruffy and curly with a dimpled smile. The sight of him comes with a sudden rush of soothing comfort, warm eyes that make you feel safe, hidden in the shadows of his hat.

“Heard I was takin’ you somewhere?” He’s broad and sturdy, with a slight sheen of sweat on the peaks of his collarbones under his shirt. Under his beard, his neck is taught and his muscles are strained, his pulse visible beneath his skin despite his cool composure. If you know Joel, he did a days worth of work this morning to clear his schedule for the rest of the afternoon. He probably smells like sweat and dirt, like horses and leather under all that damn southern charm he possesses.

Actually, you can take me anywhere. On the couch, in my room, hell—in the glow of a fridge light.

You sink your teeth into your bottom lip to bite off your involuntary groan, shooting your mom a sharp look. She may play coy, might act like she's this innocent and sweet, cookie baking, laundry folding, house making mom who knows no better, but you see what she’s really up to. How she hides behind her little false oblivion, a facade she usually only uses for good. This doesn’t feel like it was for the greater good.

“You—“ you sneer at her quietly and she smiles with a “Not sure what you mean dear, but you better get a move on. I have to get dinner in the oven!” She scurries out of the room and into the next, letting the door swing closed behind her. Joel remains in the same spot, one shoulder pressed against the white wood frame of the old door, his muddy boots on the dark hardwood floors. Your eyes drag up the rest of him, his pants are tight in the middle, hugging his hips and probably just barely restraining what lays below the dark blue denim. There's a soft curve to his belly, made apparent when his arms cross over his chest and pull his shirt tight against his front.

His belly looks so damn soft. So fucking round and bite-able. A few more clicks up, his chest nearly bulging out of the buttons of the flannel. The buttons hang on for dear life, but you’re afraid if he flexes, they will scatter to the floor with your resolve.

He clears his throat and you finally meet his eyes. “Doin’ alright there, darlin’?” If his presence wasn’t enough, the bourbony southern drawl and the way he cocks his hip makes your thighs squeeze together involuntarily. “Yeah—Yep, just need to get dressed and I’ll be ready.” You’re still in a big sleep shirt, have been all morning because work for you doesn’t require pants half of the time. When you start to breeze past, his eyes drop to the exposed skin of your thighs.

“Been wonderin’…” he stops you with a big hand, pressed against your sternum when you try to pass by his solid form. He’s still faced the opposite direction than your body, only his head turns to look down at you, gone still beneath his stern fingertips. “If you always walk around naked under these shirts, or if you’re wearin’ somethin’ under there when mom and dad are ‘round?”

His eyes flick back to the door leading into the kitchen, where your mother is currently hiding from your scowl, then back down to the hem of your oversized shirt. The hand on your ribs shifts when you haul in a deep, stuttering breath. It slips a few inches lower, the tips of his thick fingers dipping into the flesh of your stomach, just below your belly button. He’s so close and so fucking firm where he holds you in place.

“Why don’t you have a look for yourself, Cowboy?”

You challenge him back and you swear he stops breathing beside you. He meets your dare with a low growl, reverberating inside his rib cage like a shout in a vast canyon. What the hell is happening right now, did he hit his head or something? Is he finally getting the fucking hint? How desperately you want him to have his way with you? Then again, the last time he saw you dressed like this, you were bent over, knowingly showing off everything you had to offer, the place you wanted him most, while you listened to the guttural sounds leaving the unsuspecting man behind you. You aren’t going to complain about the sudden shift in his attention, hell no—you’ll soak in what you can get from the leery cowboy.

You hardly register the way he moves until he leans forward and warm fingertips graze the skin just under your ass. He’s looking when he lifts the shirt all the way up to your tailbone slowly, covered by smooth black satin, a thong that hugs your hips but leaves your cheeks exposed to his greedy sight. His eyes are everywhere, your thighs and the curve of your bare behind. His fingers dip just under the black satin band on your hip, his expression is just shy of a devoted man as he drinks in the contrasting sensation of your smooth skin and the silky material.

“Fuck,” he murmurs under his breath, letting his hand slip from your panties to travel back down, unsure fingers tracing along the crease of your ass, curling under your cheek when he gets to the bottom. It’s the softest touch you’ve ever felt, full of admiration and barely restrained desire. It sets your skin on fire, radiating behind your eyelids. “Those are…damn pretty, sugar…but you better go get yourself ready, before you’re late.” His hands slip away from you completely and he turns in the direction of the door, already on his way out before you even fully process what just happened. What flipped inside of Joel on a random Wednesday afternoon in late February?

He leaves with a satisfied smirk with intentions of starting the truck while you stammer against the doorway and remind yourself to breathe. When the front door closes behind him, you lean against the wood he was just propped against, hoping his heat will still linger there. He instigated something, a secret whisper of want, the thought makes a grin break out from one side of your face to the other, pulling your cheeks tight. He wants you.

You get dressed with that same stupid grin plastered on your face. You shift through your closet a few times, but you keep falling back on the same outfit. A pair of flared jeans, light in color with stitch work on the sides. With a pair of boots, they make your ass look like a dream—just what you are going for, just so you can rile Joel further. You find a tight top and a thick wool flannel to throw over it, before tracking back down the stairs to the front door.

It’s the rush of adrenaline that shocks the agony from your brain, but the moment you bound down the front steps to his waiting truck, the door already propped open, you pause.

You stop at the foot of the stairs and turn, looking up the steps you’ve known your entire life, the screen door you’ve spent numerous summers swinging in and out of. The porch you’ve watched storms roll in from, the porch swing where you had your first kiss. All this and…your heart sinks. When you turn back towards the running chevy, Joel is staring back at you, his once knowing smirk traded in for a furrow of concern on his handsome features.

You climb into the passenger seat and fasten your seatbelt while Joel puts the truck in gear and pulls away from the house.

There’s a long stretch of road that passes in near silence, before it’s you who just can’t take it anymore. Joel, sweet fucking Joel sat beside you, respecting your emotions and your boundaries once again. “Ranch is ‘bout to be foreclosed.” You tell him. Once it’s spoken aloud, you realize just how imminent your family’s demise really is. How quickly you are going to lose everything, watch your parents walk away with no retirement and nothing to show for themselves, for generations of hard work.

You expect something, questions about how you know, how long you have, if there's anything he can do to help you, but the questions never come. Instead, Joel reaches over and presses his fingers into the latch on your buckle, pulling it off of you with one click.

“C’mere, sweet girl.” His tone is low, soft enough to not interrupt your thoughts, but enough to have you drawing across the bench seat and slipping under his sturdy arm while he drives. He keeps you tucked in close beside him, his hand trailing up and down your arm to ease out the pain residing in your veins. He takes one glance down at you and leans forward, his lips connecting with the crown of your head. “We’ll get through it. We ain’t goin’ down without a hell of a fight.”

We

We

Because after the years you’ve spent away from this place, Joel has come to think of the Rising Sun ranch as his home just as much as it is yours. He’d raised every one of the cattle on that ranch, he’s worked day and night to ensure its survival, he’s lost sleep and nearly limbs fighting to keep them afloat while you were gone. This is his home, his fight right alongside yours. Finally, the weight seems to ease up, shouldered by Joel's sense of responsibility for your family’s livelihood.

Beside you, he’s solid and warm, he’s alive and overflowing with strength, enough to spare, for something to cling to. You turn your head and bury your face in his shoulder, covering yourself in the shield of protection he has to offer, sturdy, devoted support that makes you feel lightheaded with security. He doesn’t push you further, doesn’t prod you for details. He just hangs on, keeps your body tucked in close to his while he drives into town. At some point, the rattling of the old truck along patchy highway roads lulls you into sleep with your head against his shoulder and one leg across his lap.

Joel, with all the strength he can muster—holds on tight.

“Hey,” your senses come rushing back when the truck comes to a stop and your warm pillow jostles under your head. You lift up off his weight a little and glance at him through a sleepy gaze, a soft smile present on his lips. “As much as I like you droolin’ all over me…” he gestures to wet stain on his flannel. “Think your friends plane lands soon, don’t want you to miss it.”

You get yourself together enough to look out the window. Joel parked right outside of baggage claim at Jacksons little airport and his arm still sits tightly around your shoulders. A deep sigh sets in to your bones and you lean against him for just a moment longer to soak in the warmth. “Hey, look at me, darlin’,” his hand wraps around your chin gently, coaxing your eyes up to his. “Don’t think about the ranch, at least till the week is over. Ain’t nothin’ you can do right now, so don’t let it ruin your birthday. Everythin’s gonna be alright.” His words trail off when a broad thumb swipes across the underside of your bottom lip, his gaze caught in yours so tightly you’re half sure the jaws of life couldn’t draw you apart. He breaks out into a grin and heaves a shallow laugh. “Had a little drool there.”

The little laugh that bubbles up in you breaks the eye contact and Joel shuts off the truck, untucking you from his arm. You check the time for safe measures, there's still a few more minutes before the plane lands and she still has to make it out the gates.

“Joel?” He’s fiddling with his key chain, adjusting a few backwards keys. “Hmm?” He barely makes eye contact—is he embarrassed? From holding you while you slept? “Thank you. For everything you’ve done for me—for my family while I’ve been gone. I can't think of a way to…repay you for everything.”

Joel glances over at you and something flashes in his brown eyes, something that looks like discomfort and shame. He takes a sharp breath in and squeezes his knuckles around the keys. “I didn’t do it all selflessly…please don’t take this wrong. I haven’t felt a sense of belonging in years. Me and Tommy have been drifting since I was twenty eight, working on one ranch after another. We’d stick around a town for six months and he’d get antsy, stir up trouble and we’d have to hit the road again.”

He brings his hand up to his mouth and chews on the corner of his thumb. He’s anxious, you can tell by the way his eyes flitter to you then away quickly. “I’ve covered his ass more times than I can count because I don’t know if I’ll be the same if I have to leave here. It feels fuckin—selfish, like I’m usin’ your folks. M’gettin’ old, my bones are tired and all I want is to…stop. Slow down for once in my life. I’ve never been more at peace than I am here, with your parents and the ranch. I was doin’ so good, gettin’ my mind right, hatin’ myself a little less and then—“ he trails off with a distant look in his eyes.

And then…what? What’s caused Joel to lose that sense of peace and stability? “What happened?” You sink back in the bench seat, run your fingers along the stitched pattern of color adorning the warn padding. “S’big snow storm came in…I was comin’ back from town because I took Tommy to pick up flowers. He’d been a real asshole to a sweet lady who didn’t deserve it. Was pissed off he was smokin’ in the truck, pissed he was jeopardizin’ our home again, when we see this little car stuck in the embankment, met this—real pretty girl, and she…” he sneaks a glance over at you, but he’s doing his best to find anywhere, anything else to look at. Cars passing by, the sun reflecting off the bright white paint on the cross walk. The older woman in-front of you, helping what looks like her daughter, load her luggage into the trunk.

“She got under my skin and I was flustered for the first time in a really long time. Kinda freaked me out—and then I left here there—‘cuz I was scared shitless and nothin’s ever been the same since. Sorta think she hates my guts half the time for it.”

There's this unsettling silence in the cab, Joel's nerves and his admission hanging in the air between you. He’s never ever been this vulnerable and honest with you before. You’ve talked to him more times than you can count now, a meaningless little conversation where you found everything you needed to change your mind about him. But he’s never opened himself up like he was right now, in the damn pick up line of the Jackson airport.

“Joel I…I already forgave you for that.” You forgave him for that when he gave you your necklace for Christmas. You forgave him when he carried a newborn calf half a mile through a snowstorm for you. You forgave him when you came down the stairs to him in that damn cowboy hat.

You forgave him when he came back for you and looked at you with those pretty brown eyes.

“What?” He looks over at you and you hold onto the eye contact for as long as you possibly can. “I don’t hate you. Furthest thing from it actually—I do hate how much you avoid me. Like I’m going to bite your head off any second—“ he snorts, cracks a white smile at you and his eyes crinkle at the sides, making your stomach flutter, little blue butterflies soaring through your abdomen. “You do bite my head off—often.”

Okay—maybe he’s a little right, maybe you let it get too far a few times, spent too many afternoons angry at his distaste for you, when all you wanted was a taste of him. “Well, I’m sorry…for all the things I’ve said to you, the things I’ve called you. But I’m not upset about that anymore. I forgave you for that a long time ago. You’ve already made up for it a million times, Joel.”

He’s grinning at you like you just told him he won the fucking lottery, his nervous hands drumming a absent tune against the steering wheel. He’s looking at you like it’s the first time you’ve ever met him, his eyes shining with mirth and admiration. “Think…you could give this ol’ cowboy another shot?” That nervous little shake of his jaw, the tick in his voice and the hopefulness in his eyes is enough to break anyone, but you? You’re so lost on him you never want to find your way back. Throw away the maps, toss the keys somewhere you’ll never find them again—you never want to go anywhere else in the world. Another shot? You’d give him all of them.

“Pretend you’ve never met me before.”

He blinks, cocks an eyebrow and makes a face of confusion at you. “I’ve never met you?” You nod, turn your whole body to face him on the bench seat of his old beat up chevy. “Like it’s the first time we’ve met. I’m Hank's daughter and you’re picking me up from the airport to take me home for the first time in years. We’ve never met. Try again, shoot your shot, cowboy.”

You’d like to imagine that's how it went—your mom and dad were too busy to come get you and you decided to fly because you knew your little car wouldn’t make it. They send Joel, because he’s trustworthy and punctual. They know he’ll treat their daughter with respect, they trust that he’ll use his better judgment, because they know he’s a good man. You know that under that rough, hard exterior is an anxious man searching for belonging, a good man.

Joel takes a deep breath, lets his mind drift out the window before he turns it back to you with a charming smile, one you’ve never been on the receiving end of. It’s smoldering, flirtatious—everything you imagined Joel to be after all those years of pinning after a man you’ve never laid eyes on. A Joel you’ve never met and desperately need to get to know better. “Prodigy daughter finally returns,” his drawl is thick and his eyes rake over you once, twice, before settling on your own. “I’m Joel.”

You giggle—rightfully so, because this Joel? This Joel is all quick wit and chivalry. You fake introduce yourself back, your grin mirroring his own. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Joel.”

“Pleasure is…all mine, darlin’.”

You could stare at him forever with that damn goofy smile on his face. “Anyone ever tell you—you look good in this?” You tell him, reaching up to flick the brim of his hat, but it stays firmly in place despite your efforts. He snorts and snaps up to catch your wrist, holding onto it tightly in his big hand. “S’funny, I was just thinkin’ about how good you’d look in my hat.” His thumb circles the inside of your wrist slowly,’ pushing down the fabric of your sleeve with the effort. Slowly, he draws your appendage closer, till his mouth hovers just above your skin. His eyes are like witnessing something tragic, so devastating you can't bring yourself to look away.

“In just—“ His eyes slip closed when his lips connect with the inside of your wrist. His lips are warm and so tender you fight down a soft whimper at the intoxicating sensation. When they open again, dangerous amber irises peer back at you like you’re their salvation. “-my cowboy hat.”

Oh—fuck. There’s an image you’ll never get out of your mind—your hands on his sweaty chest, the brim of his hat falling in front of your eyes while you try to keep it in place, despite the way you ride him—

“Joel—Jesus, you can’t just—“

He breaks out into a chest filled laugh, his eyes slip close and his head falls back. His whole body responds to the way he laughs, his legs kick up, his chest heaves and his belly bounces. He’s a menace, a damn trouble starter—he makes you see hearts around his head and a sparkle in his eyes you’re sure you’re imagining. He calms his laugh down with a few deep breaths, a grin still plastered on his handsome face. “What can I say? I’m really bad at first impressions.”

He is, but it doesn’t bother you like it used to. Joel isn’t and never will be the perfect man you’d envisioned. He’ll never be the Joel you’d made up in your head for so long, because that Joel was made solely for you, from your interpretation of a man who’s perfect for you in every way. But that Joel and the one in front of you are two vastly different people—this Joel is gruff at times, opinionated and flawed. He wasn’t made perfect for you, but you find that the things that make him the least like the Joel in your mind—are the things that you like most about him. He’s gruff, but he’s punctual and takes no shit. He’s opinionated, but he’s wise about life, he’s earned the right to voice his beliefs. He’s flawed—he has crows feet by his kind eyes, graying curls and weathered hands—but it’s his flaws that entice you to learn more about him. They make him real in front of you instead of a made up, faceless man in your dreams.

Your phone chimes in your pocket and it sucks you from the void in the cab of this old truck, away from Joel's charming smile and his burning hand on your wrist. He pulls away and the moment dissipates into dust on the dashboard.

Melly: I just got my bag, headed out now!

“Be right back,” you slip out the door with a firm shut and try your hardest not to glance back at the man in the cab of that blue and white truck.

Finding Melly is easy, she sticks out like a sore thumb with her blonde hair and too-blessed chest. What did she do in a past life for tits like that, anyways?

She comes out the double doors and jogs to you with a grin your wearing on your own face. “Oh my gosh!” She squeals, finally getting close enough to throw your arms around each other. It’s been months since you’ve seen each other after spending everyday together for the last two years. You tumble around together in your hug for a few minutes before she pulls back to look you over, in a pair of flared jeans and boots. “Oh man, the country got you.” She jokes, faking a deflated sigh. “Would you fuck off?” She laughs menacingly, slinging her bag over her shoulder for more security. “Let me guess, you’re still trying to drive that cowboy crazy, right?”

With a deep eye roll, you finally look back at the truck. He’s looking right back at you, an easy smile on his lips when your eyes connect. You look back to your best friend and make a face. “He uhm…he actually drove me…to come get you. He’s in the truck, please be nice to him, okay?” She sneers and you know she means trouble when you help her with her things on her way to the truck.

“Please don’t fucking embarrass me, I swear dude—“ Mel gives you a little shove and huffs a laugh when you put her suitcase in the bed of the pickup. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to ruin your shot with the old dude.” She looks around you, eyeing him from outside of the truck without his knowledge. “Holy shit, dude he’s hot. He’s like, stupid hot.”

You look over at him too and like he can feel your eyes on him, he looks over his shoulder, smiles warmly and you know it—

Know you’re fucked.

“Not a word.” Mel throws her hands up innocently and follows your lead when you open the door of the truck and climb in the middle, sliding in right beside Joel, reclaiming the space you’d taken up on your way here.

The whole drive back to the ranch, your body is on fire along the parts that connect to Joel, pressed so close you’re afraid you might melt into him.

Two days pass in a blur.

You spend a lot of time with Mel, catching up on how she's been doing since graduating, how she likes work—she’s a wildlife biologist in Colorado, who’s still learning the ropes of the job but she’s never been more excited to be a part of something. You don’t tell her about the ranch for a good reason, but she still asks and doesn’t say anything if she notices the look on your face when you lie to her.

We’ll get through it

You love spending time with her, but you don’t see a lot of Joel besides meals. He’s pleasant and soft, smiling at you like he’s never worn a frown on that handsome face. He sits too close at dinner, draws your gaze in far too many times for it to be an accident. It’s not anymore but it’s still so damn hard to make yourself believe that this isn’t just a fleeting moment—temptation breathing life into you for the first time in years, teasing you with possibilities.

He makes you burn but he doesn’t push further, doesn’t chase that desire down its narrowing path. It’s so close—you’re so close to finally making him yours.

When your birthday rolls around, he’s nowhere to be seen at breakfast. When you head out to the stables, the horses have already been fed and there's no trace of the man who plagues your every waking moment. The truck is gone and the tire-tracks in the driveway look old, like he’s been gone for hours. It’s not that he’s required to see you on your birthday, but you thought things were going to change. You thought that re-meeting him in the truck at the airport would restart everything, he’d realize you want him around more than the ranch hand who got under your skin and made you desperate for his attention. It feels naive, to watch out the window for his truck for most of the morning, pining after that faded powder blue and rust.

“This is depressing to watch from the outside, you know that right?” Comes Mel’s voice from the other side of your room when you check the window for the first time in the last half hour. She's painting her nails on the chair in your room while you peer through the blinds like he might appear out of thin air without you hearing the rumble of his old chevy. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You do your best to defend yourself, stepping away and crossing your arms as you trudge to your bed.

“Don’t play dumb with me, I know you. You’re pacing your room wondering when you’ll see him. You know everyone can see the way you guys look at each other right? When are you guys going to like…kick it up a notch, get in his pants?”

You toss yourself on the fluffy sheets and close your eyes tight, letting your mind wander for a moment. “I don’t know…” what are you going to do, if you cant even see him long enough to get him alone? Tonight is the dance and you were hoping he’d be there, maybe he’d ask you for a dance. You’ve never told a boy in your hometown yes to a dance at this thing, but you’d change that for Joel. If he asked, you’d let him spin you around all night long.

Only problem is, he can’t do that if he’s still avoiding you like you're an illness he can’t afford to catch. “He’s so confusing. One second he acts like…he wants me, the next he’s hiding from me, probably—ugh, I just wish I could get him out of my head if he wants nothing to do with me!”

The room is silent, still for all of five glorious seconds before Mel breaks it. “Does he still run away to jerk off?” You snap your eyes over to her with a sharp glare. “Yes! And he drives me up the fucking wall, dude! All I want is to get my hands on that delicious man and he runs away every time. How am I ever supposed to accomplish anything if I can't even get him alone for five minutes. And every time I do, something happens and ruins it all.”

You can't seem to get a second with him no matter how hard you try. The last two days, he hasn’t been around aside from his work in the morning, a few meals he makes it to in between. If you’re being honest, it's painful to think about the way he’d smiled at you a few days ago and the way he doesn’t have the time of day now.

“If he shows up at that dance tonight, I’m making sure you get your second alone. Now come on, let me help you pick out your dress. He won't know what he’s missing out on.”

By the time you’re headed out the door for town, Joel is still nowhere in sight. You thought you’d heard his truck for a moment earlier, but when you’d peered out the window a few minutes later, there was no blue chevy in the driveway. No cowboy waiting out front for you.

You trudged to the car in your black dress, two slits up the sides where your thighs peak out and a back so low your half afraid your ass is going to fall out of the damn thing. You do your best to hold it up when you walk through the dirt, a pair of knee high red cowgirl boots are the only thing saving you from the mud right now.

Melly isn’t far behind, but she's not dressed in anything nearly as revealing as you. She’s making friends with Tommy who surprisingly hasn’t tried to flirt yet and claims to have no idea where his older brother has disappeared to. He’s endearing, but you know he’s playing for both sides here, hiding something for his brother.

On the drive into town, your parents take your dads truck, leaving you, Mel and Tommy in your car. When you get about half way, you finally break and ask if Tommy has seen Joel, if he knows if he’s coming. Tommy shrugs in the rearview mirror with a smile.

“I’m sure we’ll see ‘em.” Is the only answer you get.

It doesn’t happen for hours.

Hours of forcing a smile through mind numbing conversation with people you haven’t seen in years. The same old how have you been in the big city? and you tell them it was hard work and commitment. They ask no plans for the future? like you’re doomed without a ring on your hand at your age. You keep your head up through every comment, back handed compliment and pick up line that passes you by for a whole fucking hour on the dance floor alone.

“I think I want to go home soon. I’m having the worst fucking time, my feet are killing me and I think my eyelash is falling off.” Your whining and limping, faking distress and discomfort for any shot to get the fuck out of here, go home and maybe you can chance a run in with Joel.

Maybe he’s coming in from the north pasture where he’s probably been hiding all day. He’d be covered in muck and sweat, dirt clinging to the creases in his face. He’d be tired and worn out, vulnerable to the way you’d take advantage of his weakened restraint. “You sure you don’t want to stay a few minutes longer?” Melly muses beside you sipping on a tall glass of tequila on ice, watching the small town’s people converse and dance, laugh and gather together under the low string lighting.

You take a long drag of the drink in your own hand, your third of the night that's finally starting to warm your insides. It’s not enough to ease the ache of wishing Joel would appear. You know he won't, there's only a few hours left and people are starting to get tipsy. “I think you might want to rethink that…the devil himself just walked in, twelve o’clock.”

You look up at her, in a pretty green dress with curly hair framing her face. She’s smirking over your shoulder at something—or someone behind you. You turn the rest of the way around and swear you’re in the middle of one of those movie scenes.

The ones where the love interest walks in and sexy rock plays while they walk in slow motion. With wind blowing this hair back even though they are inside. Joel fucking Miller was doing exactly that at this very minute, striding through the hall in his cowboy hat and a black button down, dark wash jeans and his boots. He looks like a wet dream standing there, looking a little bit lost and so damn handsome. Under his hat, you can see that his hair is slicked back and he looks clean like he’d gone home and gotten ready.

He’s here.

“Oh he looks…if you don’t ask him to dance, I will. He’s hot.” You wish you could explain to her that Joel is more than that, that he’s funny and endearing, that he’s honorable and loyal to a fault. He’s so many more things than just hot. You swivel around as he makes his way through the crowd, he’s bound to find you and you don’t want him to spot you gawking at him. “Do I look okay? Fuck he looks so good—is my hair alright?” You try to do a quick pat down but Melly grabs your hand with a smile. “You look fine. He’s not going to know what hit him, I promise—but he’s coming this way so whatever you do, chill out.”

She sets her drink on the tall table, the ones that adorn the outside of the dance floor for people who want to mingle. You take a long drink of yours and move to set it down when someone clears their throat behind you. The drink hits the table and you turn slowly, till you rotate around to face him completely. He’s even more devastating up close with pearl snap buttons on his shirt, his arms nearly bulging out of the damn thing. His facial hair looks shorter, his eyes shimmering with reflected light.

“What’s a pretty thing like you doin’, standin’ here all by herself on her birthday?” He grins at you and takes another step forward. “Guess I’m just waiting for the right cowboy to ask me for a dance.” You tease back, reaching out for him once he’s close enough for you to touch. You start at his stomach, soft under his dress shirt. When your hands make contact, a visible shiver runs through Joel.

There’s suddenly two more hands to join the party, one high up on your waist while the other curves around low on your hip, his digits digging into the top of your ass. “I’ll be real’ honest with you here, doll—askin’ you for a dance is the only reason I came tonight.” He smells good for once, usually you catch a hint of his shower under the smell of dirt and manure, a faintness of his once clean skin. Now, it’s all you can focus on—how he’d taste like his soap, smooth and clean, every part of him reachable by your watering mouth. “Well, Cowboy…go on.” Your hands slip up his chest and over his broad shoulders, like you’ve imagined yourself doing a thousand times. He’s responsive, lowers his shoulders so you fit along him perfectly.

“Would ya make this old man's day, let me have a dance?” His hand drops lower, along the side of your thigh until he can dig them into the curve under your ass. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was trying to hoist you up, drag you into that vice-like grip you want to be at the mercy of every day of your life. “Can’t get me any closer, Joel.” You giggle, hiding your face against his neck. He smells like after shave and a little like whiskey. “I thought you were giving up drinking?” You nip at his jaw lightly, just to listen to the way he rumbles against you.

“I’m—tryin’ to keep my cool here, but you look fucking incredible tonight. Needed a little courage to walk up to you, s’all.” He leans back slightly, looking down at the way your dress squeezes your tits together, nearly pouring out of the black satin. “Fucking…gorgeous in this thing, you know that? You knew how sexy this little thing was, didn’t you?” He pulls at the slit that exposes your thighs, raking it up a little higher, until he can get a handful of bare skin. He’s not wrong—you’d put the dress on and thought about all the ways it would drive Joel crazy if he saw you in it.

“You better take me dancing before you take this off of me.” The dance around you has started to fade away. Melly took her cue to go and has started to make conversation elsewhere. “With pleasure, darlin’.”

Joel all but carries you to the middle of the dance floor before you notice his obvious nervous ticks, the shake of his hands and the way he’s fighting the urge to gnaw on his thumb. He’s anxious despite his obvious attempt at faking composure. When you wrap your arms around his shoulders again, he stammers. “Need to tell you somethin’.” His voice is a little shaky on the inhale when his hands find your waist again. “I went into town last week, there’s this dance studio on sixth street and I thought, maybe I could trade work for someone to…teach me how to use my damn feet.” For added flair, he reels away from you and spins you once before drawing you back into his chest as he moves. “So, I take it someone taught you?”

The song changes, something slow, romantic and sweet that couples join in around you, swaying together around the dance floor. “Lady said she’d been lookin’ for someone to replace the dance floor. Told her I just wanted to learn to dance, so I’d stand a chance against the other schmucks askin’ you.” He dances you around for a few more moments, pulling out all the stops—every new move he learned. Was that why he was gone so much, disappearing every time you turned around? He was replacing a damn floor and learning how to dance, all for you?

“Joel—“ you start, trying to grab ahold of him for long enough to make him still. “There's somethin’ else,” he dips you back and your insides flutter, looking up at him with those big brown hopeful eyes. He stands you up right again and the dancing slows to a stop, right there in the middle of the dance hall. You’re sure the towns eyes are on you, your mom and dad, friends from high school, older people you’ve been around your entire life. “She wouldn’t let me leave without payin’ me for it, said dancin’ lessons don’t cost that much after all.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a envelope, sealed tight with a number written on the front.

“Ranch needs it a whole hell of a lot more than I do. S’just two grand, but I’ve found a few other odd jobs, so there will be more comin’, but it’s a start—“ your hand clasps over his clutching the envelope. You push his hand down, stepping forward until you're nearly standing on his own feet. “Joel Miller…are you going to stand there all night running your mouth, or are you going to kiss me?” This endearing man, this big, expressive cowboy who can’t seem to get anything right in his own eyes, but everything right in yours.

He chuckles, the hand not holding the envelope finds the side of your face, sliding his thumb along the apple of your cheek. He’s not the one to make the first move after all—after all the leading him towards it, the teasing and the showmanship. It’s you that stands up high on your tiptoes and drags him the rest of the way in, until his mouth finds yours in the lull of the dance hall, surrounded by swaying bodies and sweet music.

He sucks in a breath through his nose and his mouth opens, slots your lips between his when he finally, fucking finally gives all the way in. It’s sweet, chaste while you stand there, smack dab in the middle of the floor. Joel stuffs the envelope back into his pocket and his other hand finds your body again, yanking until you're flushed against him, digging your hands into his shoulders when his tongue licks along the seam of your mouth, begging to be let into the slick heat. What was slow and steady, soon becomes frantic, hot and needy. Your fingers tug at the buttons of his shirt and someone shoots off a whistle from across the room, enough to have you reeling apart. Joel's mouth is red, his lips swollen and shiny from your spit.

“You want to get out of here?”

Yes. Fucking hell yes you wanted to, you’ve wanted to all damn night, but with Joel standing in front of you, a strained tent in his dark jeans, it’s all you can think about. Instead of a response, you grab him by his hand and all but drag him out the back doors towards the parking lot. It's quiet, dark—the dance isn’t even close to being over so there’s next to no one in the parking lot.

You never stood a chance, looking back on this moment right here. You never would have stood a chance, with Joel’s ragged breathing behind you when he closes the door tight behind him.

One look at his wild eyes and parted lips, you should have known how this night was going to end.

Joel was desperate. He needed you, needed to touch you every second of his day. He thought about you every second he spent awake and he dreamt of you all night long. When he’d heard about the dance, he wanted to kick himself for not learning sooner. Finding the dance studio was a fluke, learning to dance was a damn nightmare and the floor wasn’t much better, but he’d do it all again for another opportunity to press you up against the brick wall with your thighs pressed apart and his hips slotted between them while he all but devoured your mouth.

He’s ruthless, relentless as he drags your bottom lip between his teeth. You—you can't keep your sounds to yourself, hiking your legs up higher around his waist when he presses in closer. He can feel himself straining through his jeans, can feel the heat of your core against his painfully hard cock. He’d take you right fucking here if you let him. “Joel—Joel,” your hips roll down to meet his uncontrollable press forward. “I know—fuck, baby, I know.” His movements are hurried and frantic, like this might be the only shot he has to get his hands on you. His mouth finds your jaw and he bites down on your flesh, relishing in the salty taste of sweat from dancing, the tang of your perfume and the sweet taste of your skin. It’s your sharp whine that gets him in motion again, his stilled teeth still hanging on to your delicate jaw. “Touch me, please—please, touch me.”

In a scurry, he drops his hand between your bodies, pushing the fabric of your dress to the side so his fingertips can work under the elastic of your panties, past the soaked material to the place he’s always longed to touch, always wondered what it would feel like.

And you are fucking drenched under his exploring digits. He slips them through your lips, your slick already dripping down his knuckles when he finds your clit and presses the pad of his thumb to it, swirling it around in a swift motion. Your head falls back and your mouth hangs open, a silent scream on your parted lips.

“There it is, huh? S’what finally gets you quiet? Just needed me to touch your pussy, didn’t you?” He groans when your thighs tremble against him, trying to tighten up around his waist where he has you pinned to the cold wall. His thumb keeps its rhythm while his fingers dip lower, making him breathless at how easily your body draws those fingers in. You come apart like you were meant to do just that, your body rapidly chasing him towards the brink. If he hadn’t gotten himself off twice today, he’s sure he’d already have cum in his pants from just this. “Yes-Yes, Joel—make me cum, please!” Your voice is wrecked.

Your eyes rolled back in your head, your chest heaving in that pretty little dress—your tits are about to bust out of the damn thing. He picks up the pace, slams his fingers into your heat and curls them while his thumb makes quick work of your clit. It’s been so long since he touched a woman, but he’ll never forget the signs.

You are dangerously, furiously close in mere minutes alone. “That’s it, pretty girl—cum on these fingers, let me feel her squeeze me.” You cry out sharply and he nearly covers your mouth with his other hand, but he doesn’t move. Instead, he revels in the pulse of your pussy on his fingers, the way you grind down against him while your body grasps for release. It comes to you with a whole body shake, a ragged gasp of his name and his tongue on your jugular.

When he pulls his hand free, it’s with a wet sound that makes his gut tighten and his knees weak. He has to get you somewhere more secluded, away from the prying eyes of the town folks. “Wunna taste you,” he growls lowly, dragging you away from the building despite the way you stumble, the lightheadedness from cuming on his fingers.

His truck is parked in the back for lack of a better spot, due to his tardiness. He’ll thank his lucky stars for it later, if he can remind himself of it. Now, he slings the door open and nearly throws you down on the bench seat. “C’mere, girl.” He’s running out of will power and common sense, the only thing driving his mind right now is sheer want, carnal desire to get his mouth all over what he’s already ruined. He’s lucky for the part of his brain that slips off his hat and sets it on the dashboard. “Lemme see that fuckin’ pussy.”

His hands find the backs of your knees and he yanks you to the edge of the seat. At this angle, he can spread you out and kneel beside the truck, let you use the door jam to rest your foot on. When your eyes find him, he thinks you’re just as far gone as he is, blinded to the world unfolding around you, to rubber hitting asphalt nearby.

“I’m going to fucking ruin you, babygirl. Only word you’ll know is my name when I’m finished with you.” He pushes your dress up with your hurried help, both of you desperately trying to rid you of your clothes as quickly as possible. The second he has your panties dangling between his finger tips, he pushes his head between your spread legs and buries himself under your dress.

The thing about Joel is, he’s always been too good at this. Half the time, it's the only reason women stick around. It must have been the only reason he got his ex wife to marry him.

He’s abandoned his shame and better judgment. He’s starved, famished for a taste of you. This man, this unhinged version of Joel eats pussy like he’s going to die without it. From the very second his mouth finds your center, he’s lost to your immodest cries, your mindless begging for him to keep going, never stop, never stop, Joel—please. He opens his mouth wide, slops his tongue through your folds like he’s trying to lick every drop from your sensitive skin. He pulls away for a breath and his eyes bounce up to meet yours, transfixed on his relentless attack. “Wunna split this little pussy open on me,” he says, muffled against your soft mound. He takes another long lap and moans at the heady taste of you on his greedy tongue.

“I’ve been practicing—I got, oh, fuck Joel, like that,” your head tips back and he pulls his mouth away completely. “You got what, baby, use your words.”

Your body clenches on nothing and his eyes track the movement with a low rumble. “Got a toy that’s as big as you so I could practice. So I'd be able to take you.”

You’d thought about this, about him. You’d thought about him while fucking yourself on a toy you’d bought to train yourself.

He doesn’t have the words to express the way it makes his chest tighten, so he presses his face between your thighs again and gets back to work, drawing out every secret you can no longer hold onto, how good he makes you feel, how hot and devastating his tongue is—how the sound of a car pulling up doesn’t even register until—

“Jackson Police department, step away from the vehicle!”

You should have known.

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