#joelmiller

Ellie watches from the couch silently as Joel comes home late again, three times in a row. She peeks above the head rest. His hair is messy and there is a weird grin on his face. 

“Hey, Joel!” she says loud, making him jump

“What the fuck?!” his hand is on his chest 

“What the fuck, I ask you, asshole.” she walks to him, half opened eyes, sniffing on his shirt, he steps back “Suspish as fuck!”

“Go to sleep, kiddo, you are not supposed to be up late…” he climbs the stairs not looking back

“Neither did you…” she whispers to herself.

This is not the first time he arrived this late, and with the same perfume on his clothes. That stupid fucking grin, Joel has a girlfriend.

You are at the stables with other two workers and Maria, when Joel passes through you, his shoulder brushing yours gently. He stops right by your side, his big figure almost swallowing yours. You turn to him with a grin, staying on your toes and hugging him, wanting to pin him on the wall and sucking the life out of him.

“Morning, Miller!” a clever smirk appears on your lips. “Slept well?” the question makes him blush

“Morning, dear.” he smiles “Pretty well…”

“I really need you tonight…” you pout while thinking “I need you to fix my sink.”

“Again?” Maria widens her eyes and soon straightens them “I thought he had fixed it last week.”

“Oh yes, I told her it might have to be traded to a new one” Joel steps in, and you are surprised.

“Can you let us know if it needs to be changed.” she smirks and turns to leave

“Deal!” he winks and follows Maria.

You stand there, watching you boyfriend leave, his broad shoulders and strong back where you dig your nails and strong arms that lift you up like you are a feather. You sigh.

“Hello! Are you there?” Chase calls you out.

“Yes, sorry, I got lost in my thoughts.” you go back to work. 

“Morning, brother!” Joel greets Tommy inside the office.

“Morning, sunshine!” Tommy has never seen his brother that happy, not after the world went to shit “Great mood today, hun?”

“Yes, I slept really well.” the grin on his face tells all

“Sure...” 

Joel bends down to grab his shotgun and the collar from his jacket lowers enough for a purple spot to be seen on his neck, he holds a laughter, his brother is having sex, after too fucking long. Thank god.

But Tommy wonders who might be the lucky woman, after all, he can’t think about anyone Joel can enjoy the company of. Maybe Ellie knows something.

On that same afternoon, as he leaves lunch, Tommy notices Joel laughing by your side, fucking laughing and at that same moment he is sure. Ellie appears by his side, always so sneaky.

"Joel has a girlfriend." she laughs and Tommy jumps

"Apparently..."

"When do you think he will have the balls to tell us?"

"Soon..."

After a few days there is Joel again, on your doorstep, that beautiful smile that you love so much. 

“Evenin’, my lady.” 

“Evening, handsome.” you grab his shirt and pull him in.

Dinner is ready, the table is already set, you let everything ready. Patrol day is always hard on him, and all you want is for your man to be relaxed with you.

“How was your day, honey?” you ask cutting a piece of your steak

“Really great…” he raises his eyes to you

"Good!" you smile "I wonder when will we stop hiding, it feels so weird."

"Soon, my love."

It is starting to bother you, even makes you question Joel's real feelings, and he just wants to ensure you really love him and that this is going to work.

On the couch you lay Joel’s head on your lap, twisting the gray strands playfully and placing soft kisses on his whole face. His smile is as big as always is with you, and only for you.  

“You spoil me so much, you know?” he giggles “Ellie is at Dina’s tonight…”

“Nice!” your tone of excitement can be heard from miles away. You slip your hands inside of his shirt to massage his chest “Will you stay over? I can wake up really early and bake some muffins.”

“Even if you don’t bake muffins, I am staying over, if you want me to.”

“Oh, c’mon, Miller!” you push him slightly with your legs “All I ever wanted was to wake up to your beautiful face.”

Joel sits up and turns his body to yours.

“Come here, gorgeous.” he pulls you close.

Even after a long day of patrol, he melts the moment your lips meet, you pull him even closer, fingers raking through his hair. The air thickens with need. Joel kisses you fiercely. Your hand slides down from his chest to the bulge that strains his jeans.

“I need you, babe” you whisper, nipping his earlobe.

You unzip him with a swift movement and you set his thick and heavy cock free, it is hard and leaking at the tip. You drop to your knees, spreading his legs and standing between them. You grip the base, stroking firmly as you lean to lick the delicious precum from the slit. Joel’s head falls back against the rest, a rough sigh escapes as your lips wrap around the head sucking it with steady pressure.

You take him deeper, mouth sliding down his whole length, tongue pressing flat against the vein that runs underneath. Saliva coating him as you bob, cheeks hollowing to create a deeper pressure, you hand twisting at the root to match the rhythm.

“Fuck, babe! This pretty little mouth of yours.” Joel mutters, one hand resting in your hair, not guiding, just cradling as you work him faster. You hum around him and the vibration makes his thigh tense, hollowing your cheeks harder, throat relaxed to swallow him deeper, making you gag slightly. 

You pull back for air, strings of spit connecting your lips to his throbbing cock, your gazes meet for a split of seconds, you smile and bit your lip, diving back. You feel his hips bucking once, twice, but he holds back, breath ragged until you feel him swell.

“No, babe, not yet.” you pop your way out of him with a wet smack.

Joel’s eyes are dark, chest is heavy but he nods, pulling you up for a kiss, tasting himself on your tongue. You straddle his lap briefly, grinding your soaked pussy against his slick cock.

“My turn, babe. I’ve waited the whole day for this.” he growls, lifting you effortlessly and laying you back on the couch.

He pulls your jeans out in a swift movement, but the panties leave your body slowly. His broad shoulders stretch your legs so he can position his head between your thighs, you can feel his warm breath on you, making you twitch.

Joel dives in, mouth embracing your pussy. His tongue thrust inside first, fucking you with deep, insistent strokes that make your walls flutter.

“So wet for me, baby.” he murmurs against your folds, lips sucking your entrance before dragging up to circle your clit.

“Um-hum” that’s all your mind filled with pleasure can reply.

Your fingers thread through his hair, tugging lightly as he eats you ravenously, his beard and mustache rasping your sensitive skin. He alternates between sucking your clit with his lips and plunging his tongue back inside of you, two fingers joining to massage your pleasure spot, making stars burst behind your eyes.

Your hips grind, chasing the pressure and Joel pins one thigh down with his forearm, devouring you, making you scream out. He laps at your pussy like it is the only thing quenching his thirst, nose bumping your clit as his tongue slides inside you. 

“Come on my face!” he demands with a muffled voice, his free hand gripping your ass.

Pleasure shatters you, your pussy clenching around his fingers and tongue, juices spilling on his chin as you cry out, pulling his hair harder. Joel doesn’t stop, he licks you through your spasms, easing you down with softer laps until you whimper from overstimulation. He just stops when you push him off of you.

“Fuck, babe!” you laugh 

“Sorry…” he gets up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand “Ain’t nothing better than having you in my mouth, darlin’.” his raspy voice and these words are enough to make you pull him to yourself.

“I need you rough tonight.” you whisper in his ear

With a swift movement, Joel flips you onto your stomach, you raise your ass that he spreads with his big and firm hands. You pulse in anticipation, he positions his cock hard against your entrance. And with just one thrust he fills you up, stretching your pussy wide, making your head to bump into the arm rest. The slap of skin echoes.

“Are you ok?!” he stops

“Yeah, Joel! I am okay, go ahead and fuck me harder, please, I won’t break, believe me.” you giggle

He sets up a violent pace, you push back, his hands gripping your hips to pull you to him with each snap of his hips. 

“Slap me, just once, I want to know how it feels.” 

“Jesus!” he laughs, he can even think about the possibility of hurting you

But his hand comes down on your left cheek in a sharp smack, you moan loud, the sting blooming into heat, making you clench around him. Joel leans over and bites your shoulder, leaving a mark and softening with a kiss, while he fucks you, cock hitting deep and nonstop. At each thrust his fingers dig deeper into your skin.

The roughness softens, it is Joel, even if you beg for the feral side of him, the one he shows so many people, with you, it is always the most loving and caring. He reaches down and rubs your clit in firm circles. He slows the pace, the thrusts become more deep and tender, his body covering yours, protectively.

“Come on, darlin’.” he whispers sweetly against your ear, his free hand brushing your hair from your back and placing it on your shoulder. 

This undoes you, the pain, pleasure and love twisting inside of you until your pussy spasms again, the orgasm ripping through you in waves, soaking Joel’s cock. He presses your body to his, holding you close as you enjoy your climax. When he sees your are back to your senses he flips you over to slide back inside of you, face to face, slow and intimate. You know that is the way to make Joel come, with love and affection. 

He rocks into you gently, and you grind on him. Your hand cups his beautiful face, he holds it and kisses your palm, both of you smile. Joel picks up the pace.

“I love you, know that, right?!” your voice is low, three simple words, but the mean everything for both of you

“I love you too, baby.” he leans in so your lips meet. “One more for me.” he says, parting lips momentarily.

Your tongues dance to the rhythm of the strokes, he is close and so are you. One of his hands holds your waist, your arms wrap around his neck. You shatter again, nails raking his back. He comes with a shudder, flooding you and collapsing into your arms. You hold him tight, head on your chest and your fingers massaging his scalp. You give him a kiss on the head. He softens off of you and then gets up to clean you, gently like he always does. 

Already on your room, you are putting your pyjamas on and Joel stops by your side, hand on your left ass cheek.

“God! I am sorry.” he says, fondling the red mark of his palm and kissing your shoulder.

“Joel, please. I loved it, walking around with your hand on my ass, c’mon, what a dream.” you burst into laughter “You are such a softie.” 

Both of you lay in bed and cuddle, your fingers playing with his gray locks as he bury his face to your neck. 

“This feels like livin’.” he says softly, voice muffled by your skin.

You wake up early, tip toeing to the kitchen so Joel can sleep, he looks like an angel lying naked in your sheets. Mix every ingredient to the muffins and stir it. They are already in the oven when Joel comes into the kitchen, hugging you tight.

“Morning, beautiful.” he kisses your cheek “Goddamn, sleeping next to you is better than I imagined.” 

“Morning, baby. I can say the same, waking up to you is something that if I could I would do everyday.”

“Holy shit!” Ellie screams from the kitchen and stuffs a piece of muffin in her mouth “No way you were the one who did this.” 

“A friend brought it over this morning.” Joel answers from the living room. 

“Um-hum… A friend…” Ellie says lower.

This went on for weeks, whenever Ellie was out, Joel would come to spend 

“Hey, kiddo!” Joel stands on Ellie’s doorway, scratching his nape, nervous “I want to ask you a question.”

“Sure!” she does not look up from her book.

“What would you say…” he clears his throat and Ellie looks at him 

“Spill it out, old man.”

“Well… What would you say if I brought a…” silence “... lady friend over for dinner?” he finally finishes, almost breathless.

“Goddamn, Joel! Chill!” she laughs “Do you mean inviting your girlfriend? [Y/N], right?” she shakes her head and smirks “Yes, alright.”

“Whaa…” his chin falls almost to the ground “How do you know?”

“Oh, c’mon, dude!” she sits up “She is the only woman you hang out with… Actually, except for me, Tommy, Maria and Benji, she is the only person you hang out with, so it is kind of obvious.”

Joel feels relief at the same time he can’t stop think about how obvious it was and who else knows about it.

“And also, gross, but you always get home late, with that sex grin and her smell all over you.”

“Smart ass.”

“Dumb ass.”

The two of them laugh together and Joel goes to bed, he can not wait to invite you over for the first time.

You take a deep breath before ringing the doorbell, your hands trembling. Joel opens the door with the nicest grin on his face. 

“Evening, Miller.” a playful smile curls on the corner of your mouth

“Evening, my lady.” one of his arms wrap around your waist pulling you into a kiss “So good to do this outside.” he says on your lips

“Ewww, gross, Joel.” Ellie laughs “Nice to meet you!” 

“Good evening, Ellie!” you reach your hand to her, she takes it “I brought you something.”

“Oh, no!” Joel rolls his eyes “Don’t spoil this little brat.” 

“Shut up, Joel!” you are the one to say this words, laughing

You hand a pack to Ellie and she unwraps it, her face lights up in seconds, you knew she would like it, Joel was the one who told you she liked…

“Jurassic Park?!” she screams “Dude! You are amazing!” she hugs you “Thank you! First you make this moody asshole happy and now your bring me this, c’mon!”

“You are welcome, girl” you laugh, biting your lower lip and winking at your boyfriend.

Joel and Ellie are making burgers for you, it is really sweet seeing them working together, even though it is not easy work. You laugh together.

“It is delicious, your guys!” you chew the first bite you take “Congratulations.” 

“Thank you!” Ellie smiles “What would you say to staying here and watching Jurassic Park with us?” 

“Well, I am totally in for it!” 

You help them to organize the kitchen and clean up the mess they made, Joel’s hands on you whenever he can, kissing your neck as you wash the dishes. Ellie goes to the living room to get everything ready for the movie.

“This was really nice.” Joel’s voice is low on your ear “Thank you.”

“I am the one who is thankful, babe” you turn to face him, drying your hands on your pants and cupping his face “I love you, Joel Miller. You are so good to Ellie.” you kiss him, deep.

“And you are so good to me.”

After the movie ends, Ellie is already asleep on the couch. Joel takes her to her room and comes back to you. This is the first time you two are in his house, on his couch, now alone. He sits next to you, bodies almost becoming one. 

“Come here, babe.” you sit far and tap your lap so he can lay his head. “Relax.” 

You step inside the Tipsy Bison for Seth’s birthday, Joel is by your side, hand on the lower of your back while he guides you through the tables until you reach the one Tommy and Maria are sitting, you take a deep breath in. Fuck. You are about to be introduced as Joel’s girlfriend to Tommy, Maria has been your friend for the last two years, but this is actually the first time you are being introduced to a boyfriend’s family member. 

Both of them raise their heads when you get closer. Tommy opens the biggest and brightest smile you’ve ever seen in him. And Maria gets up to greet you.

“Hi, honey!” she hugs you tight “Finally officially meeting you as Joel’s girlfriend.” she whispers to your ear.

“Hi, Maria! Yes, I guess now it is official.”

“Hello, reason for my brother’s great mood.” he giggles and you look at Joel, his face is as red as a pepper. “Thank you so much!” 

“Oh, it is an honor, I guess!” you smile at him as he reaches for your hand and pulls you into a hug. 

“Sit with us, please.” Maria points to the empty seats by their side.

“Thank you, but I will get us something to drink first! I am good friends with the birthday boy, so I bet I can get us good stuff.” your voice is low like you are telling a top government secret. 

You leave the table and walk to Seth, hugging him. 

“Happy Birthday, man! So happy to celebrate it with you, my second favorite grumpy man!” Seth knew about you and Joel since day one, he was the one who made it possible. 

“Thank you, sweet girl.” he laughs “Sad I am not the one and only anymore.”

Joel’s eyes don’t leave your body not just once.

“Hey, man!” Tommy pushes Joel’s shoulder “She ain’t going anywhere, calm down.”

“What?” 

“I know she is beautiful, with all respect for both of you, and I know the possibilities, but no one will take her from you.” he laughs

You get one of the best whiskey Seth has hidden in the kitchen and take it to the table. 

“Woman! You are perfect, ready to marry both of you.” Tommy laughs 

“Shut up, Tommy!” Joel rolls his eyes

“Yes, Tommy, shut up!” Maria laughs “But yeah, you are perfect!”

You sit and start to enjoy the drink with a lot of chit chat.

“So, tell me, how long are you together?” Tommy takes a sip from his whiskey.

“Well…” you pause and look at Joel “Six months.”

“What the fuck?” Tommy coughs, almost choking on his own drink “And we are only meeting you now?”

“Yes, I didn’t want her to leave me because you are such a pain in the ass!” Joel smiles at his brother

“Oh, right, you are the nice brother, sure.” Tommy raises his eyebrows “I am the nice brother, you are the asshole.”

"Here we go..." Maria rolls her eyes and laughs

“He is just joking, we wanted to be sure about the relationship before telling anyone.” you smirk “Besides, a secret adds an extra adrenaline, right?!” you are really sure Joel is blushing right now

“Oh, yes!” Maria laughs

The night goes by really nice, you and Tommy get to know each other, he asks you a ton of questions. You even convince Joel to dance with you, not caring who is going to see you two or what people will talk about you.  

“Time to go home!” you say sighing after a night shift in the kitchen.

“Let’s go then! But tonight you are staying with me.” he does not look at you, because he knows that your jaw has dropped and eyes widened in surprise.

It became a habit of Joel waiting for you to finish your shift to take you home, he wanted to guarantee your safety. You walk side by side through Jackson, fingers intertwined the whole way.

“The house is all ours, and I’ve waited months for that.” he whispers to your ear “I want you naked in my bed, just like I’ve dreamt.”

You can’t even speak. A shiver runs through your whole body and you take a deep breath, biting your lip in anticipation of the night you have ahead of you.

Joel opens the door for you and the silence inside the house is almost like a promise. You step inside and he already pulls your body to him, his scent filling your lungs in a delicious and warm way, his arms embracing you as you two stumble through the doorway. 

“Oh my god, aren’t you even going to offer me water or tea?” you laugh as his mouth reaches yours

“You want any of this shit?” 

“Of course not, but you can be polite and ask.”

“I am not polite, honey.” he raises you on his arms and your legs wrap around his waist. Just from the movements you can feel his cock hardening against your ass.

He climbs the stairs, lips still on yours, arms holding you tight. You know you reached his room by the smell of his cologne. He throws you in his bed, something new to you, he always places you, like you are made of glass. Just with this movement and feeling his heavy body against yours you melt into him. 

Your fingers thread through his hair, tugging gently to angle his head. One of his hands roam down your side, slipping under your shirt to caress the curve of your waist, then comes higher to grab your breast, thumb circling the hardening nipple through the thin fabric. A soft moan escapes you, and Joel smiles against your mouth, nipping your lower lip before trailing kisses along your neck sucking lightly to leave faint marks that will bloom tomorrow, like the other ones you already have.

“So gorgeous, on my bed, all to myself” he whispers, voice thick with craving as he takes your shirt off, exposing your skin to the cool air.

He kisses a path down your collarbone, lingering to mark each breast with his tongue. He sucks one nipple into his mouth, teeth grazing just enough to send sparks through you, while his hand presses the other, pinching and rolling until you arched beneath him. Your hands explore his broad back, nails scratching lightly over his scars and muscles, urging him lower. Joel obeys, hooking his fingers into your lycra pants and underwear, sliding them down your legs with a teasing slowness, kissing the inside of your thighs as he downs.

Settled between your spread legs, he looks up at you, eyes dark with devotion, like he is looking at an angel.

“Gon’ take my time with you” his words are like a promise.

He lowers his head, tongue parting your folds, lapping at your entrance with flat strokes that collect your growing wetness. You gasp, hips lifting as he dives deeper, thrusting inside you with firm pushes that mimic what is about to come. He sucks your clit gently between his lips, flicking with the tip of his tongue. Fingers joining, sliding and massaging, building the pressure with unhurried precision. 

“Joel…” you breathe “...my love.” fingers clenching the sheets, then his hair as pleasure takes over you.

He works you steadily, alternating between deep licks and focused suction on your clit, his free hand grips your thigh to hold you open. Your walls flutter around his fingers until your release crash over you, like an unannounced wave, pussy pulsing as you cry out, thighs trembling against his shoulders. He laps through it all, taking every shudder until you tug him up. You sit up on the bed, leaving a mark of wetness where you sit. 

“Come here, baby.” You lay him on the pillows, wanting to give him the love he so rarely asks for.

You unbuckle his belt and unzip his jeans, freeing his cock, thick and half hard, you don’t mind, feeling him getting hard inside of your mouth is amazing. It is so heavy in your hand, the veins pulsing as you stroke from base to tip, thumb smearing the bead of precum.

You lean and take him all into your mouth, lips stretching around his girth. Joel’s breath hitches, fingers thread into your hair, he does not pull, just holds to steady himself as you suck him deep, tongue circling along the length. You bob slowly at first, hollowing your cheeks to deepen the suction, then faster taking him to the back of your throat with wet slurping sounds.

“Fuck, babe!” he rasps, his twitch but he stays still, you are the one in charge.

Saliva drips down his length as you work him, one hand cupping his balls and massaging it gently. Every time you go down you deep throat him, slowly, gagging. You feel Joel’s groans grow deeper, his cock throbbing against your tongue, but he pulls you off before coming.

“I want to fuck you here.” he says firmly

“Who are you? What have you done with my beloved and soft boyfriend?” you laugh, laying by his side.

He settles over you again, guiding himself to your slick heat, rubbing the head along your slit before pushing in slowly, inch by inch. You both groan at the stretch, your legs wrapping around his waist to pull him deeper. He bottoms out, pausing to savor the connection, forehead pressed to yours. 

“Feel so good” he rasps, starting a gentle rhythm, hips rolling in deep, grinding thrusts that hit every nerve.

“Yes, baby.” you sigh

You meet him thrust for thrust, hands roaming his back, nails digging in as passion built. He captures your lips in a searing kiss, tongues tangling as he picks up pace, the bed creaking softly under you. Sweat slicks your skin, bodies sliding together in perfect sync. 

“I love you” he pants against your ear, nipping the lobe before sucking on your neck, marking you as his. The words ignite you, and you clench around him, drawing a guttural moan from his throat.

“I love you, too, Joel.”

Sensing your need for more, Joel pulls out briefly, flipping you onto your side to spoon behind you. He lifts your leg, sliding back in from behind, the new angle letting him reach deeper. His hand snakes around to rub your clit in tight circles, syncing with his thrusts that grow firmer, more insistent. You push back against him, the intimacy of the position heightening every sensation, his chest to your back, breath hot on your neck, lips pressing kisses there between grunts.

The build is exquisite, pleasure layering until you shatter again, crying his name as your pussy grips him tight. Joel follows soon after, thrusts stuttering as he buries deep, spilling hot cum inside you with a low growl, hips jerking through his release. He holds you close as you both come down, softening inside before slipping out, a mix of your essences trickling between your thighs.

Without a word, he reaches for a cloth from the bedside, cleaning you gently, his touches reverent. Then he pulls you back into his arms, quilts pulled over you both, his hand stroking your hair as you nestle against his chest. 

“You know, life is never goin’ to be better than this.” he kisses your head.

“Oh, Joel Miller, you are my favorite thing in this world.” 

“Now, you want a glass of water?” he laughs, making you shake with the vibration of his chest 

“Sure, in a bit, first I want to stay like this with you.”

You wake up to Joel’s strong arms almost crushing your ribs, he hums to your movements. You grab his arm and bring it to your neck, kissing it. You know Ellie may come home any time. 

“Babe, I have to go, Ellie would be here in any minute.” your voice is low, almost scared of waking your boyfriend up.

“Wha..?” Joel mumbles and you turn around to face him.

“Babe! I will go down stairs to make you and Ellie breakfast, ok?” you laugh, he struggles to open his eyes. No wonder, just the thought of last night makes your whole body tremble.

You kiss his forehead and before you get up he pulls you to him again, kissing your neck and setting you free later. You go down stairs and look into the cabinets for something you can work with. And they have a few things like fruit and eggs. And bread that you made. 

“May I help you?” Joel’s big and firm hands find your hips, pulling your back to him 

“Yes!” you laugh taking his hands “Do not distract me please.”

“Like how?” he says kissing your neck and the back of your ear.

“Like this.”

“Oh, sorry.” his voice really shows surprise and he steps back.

You break the eggs and start to stir it, but you feel his hands on yours. 

“Let it go.” he says softly.

You know what Joel craves right now, his “favorite meal” as you two teasingly call it. He lifts you up and sit you on the counter, his strong hands run through your thighs as his tongue explores your mouth, causing a low moan to leave your mouth. He drops to his knees and settles his head between your legs, once more, pulling your panties aside and his beard scraping your inner over sensitive skin. Joel’s mouth finds your pussy immediately, tongue dragging flat from your entrance to your clit in one long, hungry lick.

He eats you out like it is the coffee he needs to wake up today, lips sealing around your folds to suck gently, then firmer, drawing your arousal into his mouth. 

“Always so fuckin’ sweet, baby.” he growls against you, voice muffled as his tongue plunged inside, thrusting deep and curling to lap at your walls. 

Your knuckles white from the grip on the counter, moaning low, scared Ellie might find you there. He devours you steadily, alternating between broad laps and focused flicks on your clit, two fingers sliding in to pump alongside his tongue. Now, one of your hands run through his hair, tightening around it, pulling him closer and he groans, the vibration shooting through your core.

Joel’s free hand grip your hip, holding you steady as your body arches, pleasure building fast under his greedy attention. He does not rush, savoring every moan that leaves your mouth, every twitch your body makes, until your thighs clamp around his ears.

“Come for me, honey.” he urges.

Sucking your clit hard while his fingers crook inside you. The orgasm crashing over you, pussy pulsing around his digits, flooding his tongue with your release. He licks through it all, cleaning you with devotion as you tremble, oversensitive.

And then he pulls back, face glistening. Joel crawls up, admiring your red and sweaty face, kissing you softly, sharing your taste. You smile, breathless, pulling his  heavy and warm body to yours, his hips stretching your legs even more, hands threading his hair and playing with the longer locks. 

“Now I am ready to start my day.” he smiles and nuzzles his face in your neck.

After breakfast, Joel goes with you to your house and then takes you to work, hand in hand, now you are free to show your love for each other around Jackson. Both claiming one another, with possession. In front of the hall he pulls you closer one last time before you part ways, kissing your lips gently. 

“See you at night, gorgeous?”

Cupping his face in both hands, you lean in, “Just Breathe—” his eyebrows curled, a hand on his ches,t “In and out,” your chest mimics your words. 

“I—I—I—” He tries to talk, but you gently hush him.

“It’s okay; you don’t have to talk; just…” The hand on the center of his chest pressed deeper against the warmth of his shirt, silently reminding him where to focus. His hand came to rest atop yours, and he nodded. You locked eyes, and you noticed his pupils were blown wide. 

You stay like that, still and close, for what feels like hours, though only minutes pass—as he slowly pulls himself from the fog of his nightmare.  Then, without a word, his eyes drop to his lap. One hand drifts to your hip, the other settling at the bend of your arm, his chest still rising and falling in uneven waves.

“Didn’t mean to wake you,” he whispers, voice rough and low. 

You hook a finger beneath his chin, gently guiding his face to yours. “For you,” you whisper, tucking a stray salt-and-pepper curl behind his ear, “anything.”

Your thumb grazes his cheek, tender and steady as you hold his face in your hands. You lean in, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead.

The hand on your hip slides to your lower back, his palm warm and deliberate as he draws you into his chest. You go easily, folding into the hug, your cheek resting against the curve of his neck. He holds you there, solid, quiet—like the act of touching you is the only thing keeping him grounded. 

His face finds the crook of your neck while your chin rests on his shoulder. You feel him breathe you in. At first, it’s subtle and slow, his nose brushing your skin, chest rising against yours as he inhales deeply. He sighs.

Then he does it again. Slower. Longer. His nose drags across the slope of your neck, and his breath leaves him shakier this time.

You feel the edge of his teeth when he speaks, his voice low against your skin, the rough scrape of his stubble trailing higher as he nuzzles along your jaw. You tilt instinctively, baring more of your neck. His hand slides up your spine, fingers splayed, holding you firmly against him.

His lips hover near your skin—not quite kissing, but close enough to make you shiver. The coarse drag of his stubble follows the curve of your jaw as his nose nudges higher. You tilt again, offering more without thinking.

That’s all it takes.

His mouth finds your pulse. One soft kiss. Then another. Then one just beneath your ear that lingers a little too long.

When you turn your face toward his, his eyes drop to your mouth.

And then he kisses you.

It starts slow, careful, almost hesitant. His lips part against yours, and one hand moves higher on your back, holding you steady. The tension breaks when you sigh into him and your fingers tighten in the back of his shirt.

The kiss deepens. His mouth moves over yours like he’s hungry for it, like this is the only way he knows how to speak. His hand comes up to cradle your jaw. His tongue brushes yours, coaxing, tasting. You whimper softly, and he groans into your mouth like the sound unravels him.

Like, he’s not just kissing you.

Like he’s trying to hold on to the only thing that, to him, feels real. 

“Every time I breathe you in, I want more.” He pulls back, eyes hooded as he stares at your now swollen lips.

“Please, baby… let me have more.” He kisses the corner of your mouth, slow and warm, watching the way your chest heaves beneath him. He sees it—the way your breath catches, the flicker of doubt in your eyes—and he doesn’t wait.

“Only if you want it,” he murmurs, brushing his thumb along your jaw. “I’ll take my time. I’ll be gentle. Just… I need to be close. Closer than this.”

Another kiss, softer this time, pressed just below your ear.

“I don’t want to fuck. I want to feel. Want to be in your skin and know what it’s like to come home and mean it.”

He rests his forehead against yours, breathing you in again like it’s the only thing that calms the storm in his chest.

Your hands come up to cradle his face, thumbs sweeping across the stubble at his cheeks. You nod slowly, silently, teeth caught between your lips—and that’s all it takes.

Joel exhales like he’s been underwater, like he’s just come up for air. He shifts his weight and turns you both over in one smooth motion, laying you gently beneath him. His hands don’t leave your body, not once, as your thighs part instinctively to cradle his hips. He settles there, warm and solid, his full weight pressing you into the mattress. His chest hovers just above yours, his forearms braced on either side of your head, eyes locked on yours like he’s still asking for permission, even without the words.

He leans in, kisses you again—slower this time. His lips are warm and sure, his breath steadying against your cheek. He kisses you like he’s trying to memorize the shape of your mouth, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear the second he looks away. His hips roll forward, a slow drag of pressure right against the heat between your legs, and your back arches to meet him.

Even through the layers, you can feel the thick weight of him, already hardening as he grinds against you. The pressure is deliberate, controlled, but needy. Like he’s not chasing pleasure, but grounding himself in it.

"That’s it," he murmurs into your mouth, voice thick. "Just wanna feel you, baby. That’s all I need."

He shifts again, just enough to work one hand down between your bodies, tugging at the waistband of his sweats. You feel the soft brush of his knuckles against your stomach as he pushes them low, and then you reach for him too, helping him slide them off. The soft sound of fabric rustling fills the space between your breaths. When his cock presses against your bare thigh—hot and heavy—you both shudder.

“Take these off for me, sweetheart,” he breathes, thumb hooking into the waistband of your shorts.

You lift your hips, and he pulls them down slowly, carefully, like you’re something breakable. His hands linger on your thighs when he tosses them aside, calloused palms dragging back up the insides until you’re spread open for him again.

He settles between your legs and lines himself up, the thick head of his cock dragging through your folds, already wet and aching. One hand rests at your waist, the other steadying himself against the mattress.

"Tell me if it’s too much," he says, voice barely above a whisper. "I’ll stop. I swear. I’ll stop if you need me to."

You shake your head immediately, breathing hard.

"Don’t stop, Joel. I need you."

He presses forward slowly, easing into you inch by inch. The stretch steals the breath from your lungs, your fingers curling into the muscles at his back as he sinks deeper. His body shudders above you when he bottoms out, buried completely.

“Fuck—Jesus Christ,” he groans, the words broken against your neck. “You feel like heaven. So warm… fuck, you’re takin’ me so good.”

He stays there for a moment, unmoving. His body presses flush to yours, his hand slides under your back, palm flat between your shoulder blades like he’s holding you there, grounding both of you. When he starts to move, it’s slow, deep, grinding strokes that have you gasping softly beneath him.

Each roll of his hips pulls a quiet sound from your throat. Your body clenches around him, clinging, wet, and pulsing as you fall into his rhythm.

“Needed this,” he whispers. His voice is hoarse, raw. “Felt like I was gonna fuckin’ lose it tonight.”

His forehead presses to yours as he keeps moving inside you, languid, like you’re the only thing tethering him to reality.

“You’re the only thing that feels real right now.”

He holds you so close. One hand cupping the back of your head, the other gripping your thigh, spreading you wider, deeper. His mouth grazes your temple, your jaw, and your lips between every breath.

“Only time I can breathe is when I’m buried in you.”

Your legs tighten around his waist, your heel digging into the curve of his ass as you pull him in harder. He groans, thrusts faltering for half a beat before he finds his rhythm again, slightly rougher now, more desperate.

His mouth drops to your shoulder, breath shaking against your skin.

“Let me cum inside you,” he pants. “Wanna feel you wrapped around me when I cum.”

Your answer is a whimper, your nails dragging down his back. He kisses you again—messy and open-mouthed, tongue sweeping against yours like he needs to taste every part of you.

“Let me give it to you, baby—let me fuckin’ give it to you.” He thrusts hard with each syllable. 

You nod, eyes fluttering closed, thighs shaking. His thrusts grow more frantic, deeper, like he’s chasing the edge with every desperate breath.

"That’s it," he groans. "That’s it, darlin’. You take me so fuckin’ well—always do. My good girl."

He spills inside you with a broken, guttural moan, burying his face in the crook of your neck as his whole body trembles above you. You feel every twitch, every pulse of release, warm and deep and grounding.

"Thank you," he whispers into your skin, over and over, voice crumbling. "Thank you. Thank you. Didn’t know how much I needed this until you. Until you."

He doesn’t pull out. Doesn’t move except to press soft kisses to your neck, your jaw, your cheek.

“Gonna hold you now, alright?” he murmurs. “Just wanna hold you for a while. That okay, baby?”

You nod, barely able to breathe.

He wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his chest like he’s afraid to let you go. And for a long time, neither of you says anything at all.

--

His hand rests just under your jaw, his fingers tensed around your pulse point. He could easily choke you right now, steal the air from your lungs and have you writhing and fighting for your life. The threat of his power burns into your skin, an oppressive reminder of just how much bigger and older he is than you.

You would probably let him, too. As long as he kept fucking you the way he is right now.

Joel stands slotted between your thighs, your knees spread wide against the sides of his hips, granting him access to where you've come to crave him the most. Since the very first time you had kissed him in secret, you had craved the taste of him on your tongue. And after the first time Joel had fucked you, had left his imprint on your body and soul, the craving had become impossible to shake, twisting into an ever persistent hunger that gnawed at your loins.

Having an affair with your boyfriend's uncle was deplorable. You knew how immoral it was. The shame clung to your skin, making you feel dirty and cheap. But still, you couldn't stop. No matter how many times you promised yourself to ignore him, to not accept his calls, to not even think of him. You just couldn't.

So here you are now, cornered in the cramped bathroom of the restaurant your boyfriend had chosen for dinner, letting Joel claim what little dignity you had left. You perch on the edge of the sink with your panties pulled to the side of your cunt, your skirt rucked up.

He rolls his hips back and forth slowly, splitting you open on his fat cock, stretching you open in a way that you've never been stretched before. Your hands cling to his strong biceps, fingernails sinking into the flannel of his shirt. Your eyes are rolled back, half lidded like you're drunk.

"You like gettin' your little cunt stuffed by an old man's cock?" Joel asks, voice rough like gravel. His brown orbs roam over your face, dark and blown wide with his own feral desire. "Yeah, you do. You fuckin' love it."

His other hand comes up to grab a fistful of your hair, tightly pulling at your scalp, commanding you to meet his gaze. The sting snaps you out of your haze. Your vision focuses on his featurs all at once; the crease of his brows, the plumpness of his bottom lip, the crinkles by the corners of his eyes. He looks so handsome, you think, especially with the silver threaded through his crown of curls and his patchy beard.

Before meeting Joel you would never have believed a man his age could have much of a sex drive, or any kind of worthwhile stamina. You assumed most men his age couldn't even get their dick hard.

Then Joel came along and promptly shattered that belief. Your mind was blown by his insatiable appetite and vigor. And now he continues to prove again and again that he's the best fuck of your life.

And unfortunately for you, it'll have to remain a dirty secret.

Joel tilts his hips slightly, angling the head of his dick to tap up against your g spot, sparking a delicious pulse of pleasure to ripple within your lower belly. Your lips part, a breathless moan escaping from deep inside your throat. He repeats the action again and again, causing you to squeeze around his length, greedily sucking him in.

"Just needed to get fucked by a real man, didn't you, baby?" Joel grunts, his upper lip curling into a snarl. His own words seem to spur him on. The hand around your throat tightens a little, making your breath hitch. His nostrils flare and his jaw clenches, like he's trying to restrain himself from hurting you.

The movement of his hips is unrelenting; steady, weighted strokes that reach up deep inside you, carving a place inside you that will surely leave your cervix bruised and your walls aching. You bite down on your bottom lip to stop the whimpers that threaten to spill out into high pitched moans. You have to be quiet. You can't risk making any kind of noise lest someone comes knocking on the door. You can't be caught, not now.

Meeting Joel in the restaurant bathroom not even halfway through dinner was just about the riskiest thing you two had done. You left first to go to the bathroom, then Joel soon followed with an excuse to go order another drink. The two of you had left Tommy and your boyfriend sitting at the table, oblivious and engrossed in a conversation about work and what mechanical work needed to be done on the truck.

Tonight was supposed to be different. On the drive to the restaurant you had internally resolved not to so much as give Joel a second glance. And you really had tried, too; you gave him a polite greeting, a small smile that didn't reach your eyes, despite the butterflies fluttering in your belly at the mere sight of his face. You tried to distract yourself from the scent of his cologne, but it was impossible with him sitting so close by. You had tried to act as nonchalant as possible at his presence, covertly digging your nails into the flesh of your thigh under the table to quell your anxiety.

Joel had matched your aloofness with effortless ease, always the master of control and constraint. It fascinated you how well he could hide his thoughts and feelings, how utterly uncaring he appeared to be. You sometimes wondered if he was even capable of loving a woman, of falling in love.

The facade was going well until you felt the warmth of Joel's large hand slip over your knee under the table. You stifled your gasp and quickly took a sip of wine. You tried to push your knees together but his wrist was so thick and unyielding that you surrendeded to his whim.

All while he was discussing the new contracting job with Tommy and his nephew, Joel's hand inched higher and higher up your thigh. You stayed silent, pretending to listen to the details of the new lumber shipment and cement deliveries, trying your best to keep a straight face while Joel's fingers crept closer to your pussy.

You hadn't fucked Joel for over a week, and although you still had sex with your boyfriend, you had not had a decent orgasm since. Your body was so tightly wound that his mere proximity was bordering on torturous. You needed him more than you ever thought possible.

The other men could never have guessed what was happening under the table. Joel maintained a composed facade, never once slipping up in conversation. Even when his thick fingertips started stroking the lips of your pussy through your underwear, his poker face didn't falter in the slightest. You, on the other hand, could hardly speak a handful of words without sounding breathless.

After a few minutes your thong was drenched, the scant material sticking to your throbbing clit. He was driving you fucking crazy. Frustrated with arousal, you wrenched his hand away and excused yourself to go to the bathroom, hoping desperately that he would follow.

And he did.

Ofcourse he would.

Joel needed your body as much as you needed his.

"I know you wore this slutty skirt for me," Joel rasps, Southern accent dripping with possessive desire. "Made me hard the moment I saw you walkin' in. I know that's what you wanted. Tryin' to drive me crazy, showin' off your ass like that."

Without warning he drives his cock hard into you, fully sheathing himself inside so that his pubic bone presses into yours. You hiss as the sensation of fullness crashes over you in an instant. It teeters on the edge of being too painful to tolerate. Your hips squirm as you try to get some relief from being impaled.

"Joel, it hurts. Please move," you plead with a trembling whisper.

He ignores you and remains still, his thick length nestled so deep that you swear you feel him in your guts. "What makes you think you can tease me like that?"

The hand tangled in your hair relinquishes its hold and shifts down to your mouth. Before you can answer Joel suddenly shoves two of his thick fingers past your lips and over your tongue. You try to speak his name but it comes out as a garbled gag when his fingers prod the back of your throat.

"Who do you think you are?" He sneers.

You try to jerk your head away but his hold on your neck keeps you pinned against the mirror with no where to go. You reach up to wrap your hand around his wrist, futilely trying to pull him back. His fingers press down on your tongue, pushing further past your uvula. You gag once more, tears springing to your eyes.

"I asked you a question," Joel snarls. "Who do you think you are?"

You aren't sure what Joel expects of you. You can't answer and your heart is racing in your chest. You can feel your pelvic muscles involuntarily squeeze. He studies your face intently, his features pulled into an expression of cold contempt. After a few more agonisingly long seconds he withdraws his soaked fingers, drawing a string of saliva from your mouth along with them.

"Seein' as you're too stuffed full of my cock to think straight, I'll tell what you are."

Without breaking eye contact Joel brings that same hand down to trail over your mound. You feel the tacky wet of your spit drag over your skin. His calloused thumb brushes over your swollen clit and you twitch. The contact is featherlight, teasing, no where near enough to satiate your need. You let out a soft moan.

"You're a whore," Joel croons matter of factly. "But you're my whore. You hear me?"

He presses the pad of his thumb gently onto your clit and begins to rub lazy circles over it. You're suddenly overwhelmed by sparks of exquisite pleasure, your jaw falling open in a silent moan, your eyelids fluttering.

"Yes," you whisper, gazing at him with lust drunk eyes. "I'm your whore, Joel."

He starts to roll his hips back, dragging his cock out of the tight clutch of your cunt before slowly sliding back inside. You gasp, fingers scrambling for his biceps once more. The buckle of his belt clinks against the sink as he fucks into you while expertly rubbing your clit. 

"That's right baby," he nods, giving your neck a brief squeeze before looking down to where your bodies are connected. He lets out a rumbling groan. "Look at that fuckin' pussy. Suckin' me right in." 

The unhurried rhythm of his cock spearing in and out of you is heavenly. The bliss is all consuming, making your head floaty and your limbs shaky. And although the sink digs uncomfortably into your ass and the joints in your hips protest the the angle Joel's manipulated you into, you don't care. All you can focus on is Joel.

"She belongs to me," he growls lowly.  "It don't matter who you're with. Don't matter what you do. She's all mine."

He surges forward and crashes his mouth into yours. You moan, savouring the sweet taste of the wine on his tongue as he captures you in a hungry kiss. You reach up and card your fingers through his hair, tugging his curls, your own voracity suddenly intensifying with each second his tongue laps at yours. His hand remains anchored around your throat, a reminder of who you truly belong to.

All the tension from the past week, all the repressed hunger and torment courses throughout every inch your body. You can feel the coil of pleasure rapidly tightening in your belly, hot and electric. Joel can sense it, too - he can feel it, the way your walls constrict and the little stuttering gulps of air you inhale through your nose. It is so close, that ever coveted euphoric high that you can only seem to attain under the hands of Joel Miller.

His thumb continues to stroke slow circles over your clit, using just the right amount of pressure to coax you to orgasm. When it hits you, your toes curl and your fingers grip tightly to his hair. Your pussy spasms and contracts around Joel's cock as you cum. A gush of juice spills from you and drips down his balls. Joel breaks away from the kiss to stare down at the lewd sight, panting heavily.

"Fuck yes, that's it, baby," Joel praises you. "Squirt all over me, you dirty little fuckin' whore."

Your eyes roll back into your skull while the waves of bliss wash over you, the blood rushing to your ears. It seems to last for ages. Joel keeps up his ministrations until the high eventually dissipates, when your body starts twitching from overstimulation and you have to beg for him to stop. He obeys, satisfied that you've had your fill.

He grabs the flesh of your hip and uses it for better leverage to pound his cock into you. Your hands drop from his head to weakly claw at his arms, the energy drained from your body. His hand around your neck is the only thing keeping you upright.

"I'm gonna fill you up now," Joel grits through laboured pants. "I want you to go back out there with my cum drippin' out of you, ya hear? Want you rememberin' who the fuck this pretty little cunt belongs to."

You nod as best as you can. You want him to use you, to wreck you, to mark you. He buries his head into the crook of your neck, moaning. It's not long before you feel his dick swell and pulse, momentarily expanding inside you like some kind of beast. He curses under his breath and slams one last time all the way inside you, balls deep. He sinks his fingers into the fat of your hip and groans raggedly as the first load of warm spend explodes deep inside you. You mewl, exhausted and boneless, completely submitting to his will, and let him fill you with several more spurts of cum. His ass flexes with each pulse.

"Fuck me," Joel mumbles against your neck, his hot breath tingling along your skin. His body sags into your front as he recovers, his slowly softening dick keeping his sperm plugged inside you. His hand finally loosens from your throat and comes to rest on one of your tits.

Joel never gives you much of an opportunity to indulge in the afterglow of your trysts. He's usually pulling out of you and hitching up his jeans to leave within a minute of unloading his balls. You don't let it get to you, although some times you can't ignore the tiny ache within your chest when you watch him turn away.

Joel sighs, weary yet content, and slips out from your cunt with a wet squelch. You groan at the raw emptiness he leaves you with. He steps back from the sink and tucks his dick back inside his underwear before zipping and buttoning up his jeans. You slide off the sink as carefully as your wobbly legs will allow you and readjust your underwear. You can already feel the sticky gush of semen begin to trickle out of you. You hope your boyfriend won't be able to smell it when you return back to the table.

You expect Joel to quickly duck out of the bathroom before you can even speak a word. To your surprise he doesn't. You glance up at him to find him already staring at you silently with an expression you can't quite place. His eyes shift between yours for a few tense moments, then he tenderly reaches out to cup your cheek.

You've never known him to be gentle like this. What is shared between you two has always been rough and deviant, never soft or sweet. It's such a striking contrast to his usually gruff demeanour that you aren't sure what to say or do.

But then the moment is over just as suddenly as it appeared. Joel buckles up his belt and turns away from you, escaping from the cramped bathroom without so much as a parting word, leaving you alone with the wretched feeling of grime and shame staining your skin.

It all started with that damn jacket. 

“It’s so cold, Joel. Please.” You whined, skin shuddering from the breeze. “Told you to bring a coat or somethin’, y’never listen.” He huffs, shedding off the outermost layer of his clothes. He holds it over you, eyebrows raised combined with pursed lips. 

You smile at him, quickly grabbing hold of the jacket and putting it on. You waste no time, zipping up the front of the jacket and tugging the ends of it to try and fit your body. It felt huge wrapped around you– it extended past your torso, and you had to tug the sleeves up just to use your hands. 

You looked so cute like this, he thinks for a moment, staring at you blankly. His eyes raked over you, eyeing you from head to toe. “Anyone ever tell you it’s bad manners if you stare?” Your voice chimes in like a chirp of a bird, and he’s back to reality. 

He shakes his head, walking past you, “Shut up.” He mutters. And you smile. 

You were fully aware of what effect you had on him. Ever since moving across his house a few months back, you’ve made it your life’s mission to make him fuck you. 

It didn’t take long for him and your dad to form a friendship over football and beer. However, ever since meeting Joel, he was always just this stuck-up, grumpy– presumably lonely– middle-aged man to you. You were just determined to help him, what’s wrong with that? Every time your dad invited him over for dinners or outings, you made sure you wore something that caught his eye. 

Even if that means wearing something skimpy during a cold weather. 

“I’ll wash this up for you and bring it back tomorrow morning, promise!” You say, looking at him with a glint of mischief in your eyes. He nods, shaking his hand in the air, “Yeah, yeah, whatever.” 

Is it wrong that he turns you on?

Is it wrong that you’re thinking about getting stuffed full of his dick? Of his cum? 

“Come on, girl.” He calls out to you, and you follow. 

For the evening, your dad had invited him to an outing. A fancy word your dad uses for just ordering take-out and eating it in the truck by the woods. They talked for a while, with pauses and laughs in between. 

“.. Anyway, I have to drive back to our old place tomorrow.” Your dad says, biting down on his food. You nod before tilting your head, “Why?” He finishes his food before wrapping the packaging and throwing it in a piece of plastic, “Forgot some of my boxes, kid.” He shrugs casually then turns to Joel, “Keep an eye on her, would ‘ya?”

When you get back home, you rush up to your room. You sigh in relief, welcoming the warm air while taking off his jacket. You lay down on your bed, holding the jacket close to you and taking a deep breath of his scent. It was so distinct, so unique, so.. him. Your fingers trace over the fabric, a mental image of him appearing in your head. Your breath hitches in your throat, and your other hand hooks your panties down. 

You take a pillow, placing the jacket above it. You straddle over it, forcing the pillow between your thighs. You lean down, burying your face in the jacket as you start grinding on it. Your pussy rubs over the cloth of his jacket, and you can’t help but whimper at just the thought of that. 

You were like a woman possessed, chasing your own high as you kept his jacket close. It didn’t take long– his scent drives you mad, almost crazy, and just a few moments later, you let yourself unravel.  Sweaty and tired, you collapsed on top of the jacket, coating it with your sweat and essence.

You woke up in a panic, your dad’s knocking alarming you. You sit up straight, tossing the jacket to the side and yanking your blanket over your legs. “Yeah, dad?” You clear your own throat, stretching out your limbs. “Joel’s here, and I’m going.” He says from the outside of the door. “Alright, drive safe!” You call out. 

You make out the thuds of his boots down the stairs. You then eventually hear the engine of his car. You look out your window, waving your hand as your dad honks the car before driving off completely. 

You get up, picking a pair of shorts from your drawer and putting them on. You grab the jacket from the side of your room, sighing to yourself before stepping out. You walk downstairs to the smell of a fresh coffee pot and some pancakes. 

“Figured you could eat somethin’.” Joel’s voice grounds you, his back facing you as he finishes cooking the last pancake. “Coffee’s there, if ‘ya want.” He points towards his right, the tone of his back muscles visible through his shirt. You nod, setting the jacket on one of the table chairs. You help yourself to a cup of coffee, taking a sip before sitting by the table. He turns around to face you before slipping the plate of pancakes in front of you. 

“I have to head out to the hardware store, d’ya wanna come?” He asks, sitting on the chair across from you. You nod, taking a fork and getting a bite out of one of the pancakes, “Mhm. Should let me change though.” Your voice is muffled, you haven’t finished the bite. “Now, sweetheart, I believe it’s bad manners to talk with your mouth full.” He grins at you, a smug look spreading across his face.

You roll your eyes, swallowing it before locking eyes with him. “Let me shower and change, Miller.” He chuckles, nodding as he takes a bite of a pancake. You finish your cup of coffee along with the pancake with a satisfied hum before standing up. 

Oh! You almost forgot his jacket. 

You reach over to the hunched cloth on the chair, grabbing it and sliding it in front of him. You’re off to the shower now, your footsteps echoing throughout the hallway.

He swears you’re trying to fuck him over. 

After your little banter, you slip him his jacket and you’re off on your feet. He shakes his head with a smile before his eyes glaze over his jacket.

Just as he was going to turn his gaze away, something caught his eye. A stain. A dried-up stain that left a darker patch on the hem of his jacket. It couldn’t be water, it would’ve dried up normally. He’s familiar with it. After fucking around with multiple women in a variety of compromising situations, he’s all too familiar with what it was. 

Dirty. Fucking. Girl. 

He takes a deep breath, the confines of his shorts tightening around his hardening erection. He looks down at it, shaking his head. 

This is fucked. He thinks, his hand going down to palm his cock through his shorts. He grabs the jacket, bringing the stain close to his nose to get a whiff of it. 

Fuck. You smelled amazing. Something sweet, something fresh. By now he’s rubbing his cock with his hand, hips bucking up into nothing. 

“Joel! Mind handing me a towel?” 

Your voice cuts through his heated session. A grunt caught in his throat, shaking his head and trying to shrug it off by clearing his throat. “Yeah, erm,” He lets go of the jacket, “Where?” He stands up quickly. “Should be one by my room.” You hum from the shower.

“Fuckin’ hell.” He mutters to himself, dragging his feet up the stairs and towards your room. He creaks open the door, scanning the room for your towel. He sighs, walking in and looking at every corner. Your scent is everywhere, making his head spin and cock harder. 

He finds your towel hooked on the back of your door, and relief washes over him. He grabs it hastily, pulling a top you discarded days ago with it. It drops down to his boots, and he stares at it. A white lacy tank top, one you wear at home only. He takes a deep breath, every fiber of his being screaming no. 

This isn't right, he's too old for you.

He was just going to put it back where it came from. What’s the harm in that? He was just going to put it back nicely, as if this never happened. He scoops it up, the soft feel of the fabric a contrast to his rugged hands. Then it hits him. Your scent. He can smell it all over the top. Didn’t even need to bring it close to his nose to be able to get a whiff of it.

He folds it neatly before tucking it in his pants. 

Oh, he was going to hell for this.

It took you days to notice that some pieces of your clothing went missing. First were the tank tops you wore at home, you always tucked them away by the first drawer of your cabinet. Second were the laced bras you bought from a city a long time ago, you mostly just use it when you’re out. Then finally, your favorite white lace thong. 

Joel started to come over more frequently, always by the front door with a pack of beer. Your dad was more than happy to let him in. It was strange, some pieces of your clothing came back during the days Joel was over. You thought nothing of it. 

Not until you saw him sneaking about the door of your room. He had just excused himself to go the the bathroom, a routine you picked up on ever since he came over more. It was like a tick in your brain– you just needed to know what he was truly doing in there. 

Instead, you catch him by your room, thong in hand, nose-deep, and cock hard. You were by the lower part of the stairs, enough to get a good view of what he was doing. Your eyes widen in shock, a grin tugging at the corners of your lips. 

You had him hooked.

Joel knew how fucked up it was. He was inviting your dad for drinks and a good time, only for his main objective to be to sneak into your room and snatch a few pieces of your garments. All for what? Jerking himself off late at night, when all of his pillows are covered in your scent, when all he can think about is the way your hips move, the way your tits bounce. 

He knew how fucked up it was, cumming on your garments, moaning your name, and imagining how sweet your pussy would feel wrapped around his cock. He knew how fucked up he was. 

But it was better than actually touching you, than actually crossing the line and fucking his friend’s daughter. He kept a safe distance, he kept boundaries, and he made sure he never stepped the line. So, surely, this was better, right? He’d slip into your room, grab a bra, a thong, or a top, and he’d be satisfied. And that was enough. 

It had to. 

But goddamn you were making it hard. You were making him really hard. 

You knew how to push his buttons, knew how to drive him to his limits. Every outfit you put on for him just got more and more enticing. And for tonight, his eyes are now shamelessly scanning every curve and dip of your body. 

The hour was late, your dad had excused himself to his room– his head was hurting. It was only you and him now, sitting on the couch, in front of the television. The past few moments were pure torture for him. Every skin-on-skin contact with you made him go crazy, and every time you walked past him, he could just inhale your scent.

He has one of the couch pillows set over his thighs, a weak attempt to cover up the hard-on he earned just by looking at you. Your eyes were glued to the screen, a knowing smile displaying itself on your lips. 

20 minutes pass, and so far, he wouldn’t budge off the couch or even get a new bottle of beer. “Would you like a new one?” You turn your head towards his direction. He hums, nodding, “Mhm, sure.” You walk over to the table, grabbing a new bottle of beer before walking back to him. You bend over a bit, handing it out to him.

His eyes lock in on your chest, the soft flesh of your boob peeking out through your low-cut top. And for a moment, he stays like that, mind completely distracted by the view in front of him. “Joel?” You ask innocently, beer bottle still in hand. He clears his throat, nodding his head before taking it out of your hand. 

He quickly takes a sip, trying to focus on what shows the television is playing. You smile to yourself, taking a seat beside him. You have a finger over your mouth– you feel the tension, and you scooch closer to him. “What’re ‘ya doin’, kid?” He asks, his voice low, eyes never leaving the screen. “It’s cold.” You shrug. 

He turns his back on you, his body facing the other way. Your eyes graze down on his back, admiring the way his muscles bulge through his shirt. Then, you catch a glimpse of your thong in his back pocket.

That was it.

“You know, it’s weird..” You start, looking at him. He looks over at you with his eyebrows raised, “Hm? What is?” You hook your finger on it, pulling it towards you in one swift motion. You dangle it in front of him, a smug look on your face. 

“Never took you for a pervert, Miller.” 

He looks at you, eyes wide with shock as his grip on the pillow tightens. “M’kay- fuck, I can explain–” He starts, standing up and letting the pillow fall to the ground. Your eyes lock with his boner, a smile forming on your lips. “Yeah?” You tilt your head to the direction of his boner. 

His eyes look down for a second, assessing himself. He sighs, running a hand over his face. “Been sneaking around and stealing my things when you could’ve just asked nicely.” You tut, standing up on your feet. “I know you want to fuck me, Joel.” You take a step closer to him. He looks at you, unsaid thoughts crossing over his eyes. He sighs before shaking his head. 

“Not here.” Is all he says before picking you up and placing you over his shoulder. You giggle quietly,  feet dangling in the air as he makes his way to your room. He fumbles with the door knob before clicking it open and setting you down on the bed. He locks the door behind him, turning around to face you properly.

You’re on your knees, fingers hiking up and glazing over your thighs. He eyes your movements, shaking his head. He walks closer to you until all you can see in front of you is just his tall frame. He grabs your chin, forcibly tilting your head to make you look at him. You don’t utter a word, your eyes scanning the entirety of his face. 

“Makin’ it so fuckin’ hard to control myself around you, angel.” He rubs his thumb by your bottom lip. You poke your tongue out, eventually taking his thumb in your mouth. “Just so happens you don’t have enough clothes to cover yourself with when ‘m around, is that it?” He looks at you with a dark gaze, his other hand reaching to unbuckle his belt. You nod, the sides of your lips curling into a smile. 

He takes his thumb out, tossing his belt to the side. He sits down on the edge of the bed before unbuttoning his pants. 

“Bend.” 

His voice drops an octave lower, his hand gesturing to his lap. You’re dumbfounded, lips parted with shock. “What are ‘ya, deaf?” He glares at you. You shake your head and do as you’re told, bending over his lap. He yanks your cotton shorts down, the cold air hitting your bare ass. “No panties?” He asks, his hand groping and getting a feel of your ass. You shake your head, squirming under his touch. 

You flinched as the sharp sound echoed throughout your room, a sting following– hot and immediate. 

“Words, baby. Let me hear ‘ya.” His gruff voice cooed from above you, his hand soothing over your flesh. “Deliberately wearin’ nothin’, hm? Is this for me, angel?” His fingers rub against your pooling hole. “Y-Yes.” You shook out the word, your hands pressing against his thighs. 

Another slap. “Yes what?” Oh, he sounds pissed. 

“Yes d-daddy-!” You whimper, your knees pressing together. He leans down on you until his lips are just by your ear, “Now you’re gonna have t’be quiet if you want me to fuck ‘ya properly, understood?” He presses a kiss to the top of your head. You nod your head, a tear slipping out of your eye. “Aw, poor baby.” His thumb brushes over your cheek, wiping your tear away, “Does it hurt?” He hums. “N-No daddy, promise!” You say earnestly, trying your best to be good for him.  

“Count for me, sweet girl.” He orders, his tone leaving no room for protest. 

His hand landed on the flesh of your ass, sharp and unyielding.

“O-One.” Your voice trembled under the contact. 

“Wearin’ nothin’ but short skirts and cropped tops, tryin’ to kill me.”

The next landed with no hesitation, your cheeks retracting at the contact.

“Two!” You bite your lip, muffling your whimpers. 

“Intentionally wearin’ nothin’ underneath those pretty white bottoms.” 

The next was harder than the last, more painful– the impact of it spreading heat through your skin.

“Three..!” By now you were crying, your pretty pink cheeks glistening with tears. He pulls your body against his, letting you lean against him. His hands were brushing against your ass, a tender touch– a contrast to his earlier actions. “Did so good for me, angel.” He kisses your cheek, his arms wrapping around your waist, “Makin’ me so proud.” 

You straddle on his lap, taking one of his legs between your thighs. You start moving, eager for the friction. “What’s this? Pretty baby beggin’ to get fucked?” He coos against your ear, the palm of his hand on the back of your head. “Y-Yes please, please.. been so g-good for you..” You whine, moving your hips faster. His hands travel back to your waist, holding you in place before flipping you over and letting you lay on your back.

He pulls away, tugging his pants along with his boxers. Your mouth waters at the sight of his cock, long and girthy, twitching and begging to get buried inside of you. Your legs unconsciously spread open, your pussy all on display for him. He smiles at you, leaning over you before kissing your forehead. 

“Keep quiet. Think you can do that f’me, baby?” He whispers, his hands on the back of your knees. You nod, your pussy pulsing against the tip of his cock. He leans down, pressing your thighs to your chest as he pushes his cock deep into you. Your knees touch your shoulders, and your hands find their way to his. 

Your pussy is stuffed, and you lightly tap him as a signal for him to give you a few seconds to adjust to his size. “Little girl taking me in so well.” He breathes, his hips staying in place. You bite down on your bottom lip, trying your hardest not to make a sound. 

Just when you thought he was all in, his hips pressed further against you, driving the extra inches of his cock inside you. “D-Daddy..” You hiccup, tears flowing from your eyes as your legs tremble in pleasure. “I know baby, I know.” He kisses the tips of your eyes, nodding, “Don’t worry. I’ll stretch you out real good, angel.” He whispers by the side of your ear. “Have you beggin’ for more in no time, you want that, yeah?” He lets out a low moan, burying his cock deeper. You try to relax your body, nodding at his words.

His grip on your legs tightens, his hips rocking into you. A moan slips out of your mouth, and he’s quick to cover it with his hand. You look up at him, beads of sweat forming around his forehead, some of his hair sticking on his skin. He looks down at you, his eyes gazing at your chest– your hardened nipples moving against the fabric of your top. He removes his hands from the back of your knees, relocating them to grope on your tits. 

He grabs the fabric, tearing it into two impatiently. You gasp at the contact, his hips snapping rapidly as he grunts by your ear. Your tits bounce, and this only fuels him further, “You’re so beautiful, angel,” He praises, peppering kisses on your hands, “Always so good for me.” Your legs hook around his waist, his other hand making its way to your neck. He puts pressure on your airflow, your hands wrapping around his arm.

The obscene sound of your squelching pussy and his invading cock fills the room, and you start to feel light-headed. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, your back arching against his towering body. You clench around his cock, your legs pulling him closer to you. “Need me buried deep in your pussy, yeah, angel?” He smirks, his other hand teasing your nipples. Your pussy pulses with his words, your head nodding frantically. “M-Mhm- mmfh..” 

“You needed this so badly, huh?” He asks, his fingers glazing over your clit. You buck your hips up, desperate for his touch. “So pretty for me.” He rubs your clit with a soft and teasing touch. “M-More.. pleasepleaseplease– hngh–” You gasp, “So close, daddy!” He nods, adding more pressure to your clit. 

He looked so perfect right between your thighs, his large frame towering over yours, his hands exploring your body. His hips staggered, “This pussy is mine, understand me?” He lets go of your neck, hands pushing the back of your thighs to your chest. You nod, biting your lip while tears threaten to spill from your eyes. “D-Da- haaah– yours, all y-yours..!” He speeds up the pace, his fingers working their way on your clit. 

Your hands fall to your sides, your mind solely focusing on your release. “Just needed t’be fucked stupid.” He whispers, pulling his cock out before slamming it back in. Your back arches, and you’re met with your release. His hands land on your hips, pulling you towards him as he thrusts his cock into you one last time. 

He holds you still, his hands kneading on your hips as he leans over you. You feel his cum seep into you, steady ropes of it shooting inside you. He keeps still, making sure that you got every last drop. You feel breathless, your hands finding their way to his chest. 

He brings one of your hands to his lips, pressing a soft kiss on your fingertips. “So good for me, sweetheart.” He pulls out, collapsing by your side. He snakes an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him. 

He scans your face, his hand cupping your face. He rubs his thumb over your cheek, leaning closer to kiss it. He was so tender, so sweet with you– like you were the most precious thing to him. His hand rests over the back of your head, cradling you to his chest. You sigh contently, your eyes fluttering as your breathing steadies itself. 

He kisses the top of your head, muttering sweet nothings and praises as you drift off to sleep in his arms.

Every girl gets her wish. 

white lace divider by @chilumitos , cupid divider by @ioveartfilm ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ !

a/n: my second work! tried to do something new DOMJOELAHA, please feel free to correct me about any mistakes i made! i hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it! reblogs, comments, likes, or any kind of interactions are deeply appreciated!! xo, pearl!

The heavy thrum of boots on cracked asphalt echoes as you weave through the busy streets of the Boston QZ, a bag slung over your shoulder. In your hand, a crumpled scrap of paper flutters slightly with your stride, the name and room number scrawled on it already smudged from your grip. You shouldn’t have taken it—every instinct screamed not to—but the man from Area 5 had made refusal impossible.

He’d raked his eyes over you like you were nothing more than a transaction, his smirk thick with implication. Still, you took the note, biting your tongue and clenching your fists to avoid giving Robert’s protection thugs another excuse to single you out.

The noise of the main street fades as you turn into quieter, more desolate alleys, the distant hum of generators and FEDRA radios filling the silence. The bag on your shoulder feels heavier now, the encounter lingering like grime under your skin.

Then, from the corner of your eye, you spot a figure in the shadows.

Joel Miller.

He’s leaning against a crumbling wall near the alley entrance, arms crossed over his chest, his shoulders cutting an imposing silhouette in the fading afternoon sun. His face is a mask of indifference, but his sharp eyes catch the smallest details, their weight pinning you in place.

Even in the gloom, you can feel the tension radiating from him like heat. That scowl—the one that promises nothing good—is set firmly in place, never smoothing from the lines of his face.

You almost roll your eyes at the look. Almost.

"Thought you’d be halfway to the docks by now," you say casually, brushing past him.

“Was,” Joel mutters, pushing off the wall. “Then I saw you chattin’ up that asshole.”

You freeze mid-step, your back to him, before turning around slowly. His eyes are dark, sharp like glass. There’s an edge to his tone you haven’t heard in a while.

“It was just a trade. And so what if I was?” you challenge, keeping your voice light, but there’s a flicker of tension you can’t quite hide.

Joel steps closer, his boots crunching the broken concrete. “So you’re workin’ deals with scum like him now?”

“You mean scum like us?” you fire back, crossing your arms. “I didn’t realize I needed your permission, Joel.”

His jaw tightens, the muscle twitching as he stares at you. “It ain’t about permission,” he says, his voice low and gravelly. “You think he’s got your back? He’d sell you out for a can of peaches.”

You scoff, shaking your head. “And what? You’re here to protect me, is that it? Because last I checked, you’re not exactly the hero type.”

Joel’s hand twitches at his side, like he’s fighting the urge to reach for something—or maybe someone. “You think I don’t see it?” he snaps, his voice rising just enough to cut through the humid air. “Robert's usin' you, girl. Throwin' ya to the wolves and you just let them look at you like--”

Your eyes narrow, a hot flush creeping up your neck. “Look at me like what, Joel? Are you serious right now?”

“You’re damn right I am,” Joel growls, stepping closer until the space between you is as tight as the tension coiling in your chest, "You shouldn't be workin' with them. Ain't safe."

“Why do you care?” you ask, your voice quieter now as you search his face, the words slipping out before you can stop them. His broad shoulders envelop you, making you feel small and vulnerable in their shadow.

His mouth opens, but no words come out. Instead, he exhales sharply, like he’s trying to wrestle the truth back down before it escapes. His hand raises briefly, like he might touch you, but it drops just as quickly.

“Forget it,” he mutters, stepping back. “Do what you want.”

Your stomach twists as he turns away, the tension in your chest snapping before you realize what you’re doing. You grab his arm, your fingers curling around the worn fabric of his jacket.

“Joel, wait,” you say, the words coming out sharper than you intended.

He stops, stiff and unyielding, his head tilting slightly like he’s debating whether to face you. Slowly, he turns, his eyes locking on yours, dark and stormy, a barely restrained conflict simmering just beneath the surface.

“What?” he growls softly, his voice low and rough.

The words hang in the humid air between you, heavy and unspoken for too long. You should say something—anything—but your throat tightens, betraying you.

Joel steps forward, the space between you dwindling. His chest rises and falls, his breathing uneven, his eyes flickering to your lips. They part slightly, and when he moves in an inch, you suck in a breath, surprised but also...longing.

He’s so close now that the heat of him is impossible to ignore, his scent—sweat and leather and pine—filling your lungs. His gaze flickers to yours again, and for a heartbeat, you’re certain he’s going to close the gap. You can see the individual sprigs of hair that make up his beard now, which ones are gray and which have kept their darkness despite his age. The curve of his lips beneath the beard is intoxicating, a quiet lure that you can’t tear your eyes from. It takes everything in you not to give in, not to lean forward and close the aching space between you.

For a split second, you think he might be just as close to losing that battle. His breathing hitches, his fingers twitch at his side as though they ache to reach for you. But then his jaw tightens, his lips pressing into a hard line as he steps back, the tension snapping like a taut wire cut loose.

“Forget it,” he mutters, his voice low and jagged, before turning and walking away, leaving you there standing alone.

The crumpled note taunts you from where it’s sat for days on your kitchen table, the edges smoothed from you picking it up, staring at it, then tossing it back down. It’s ridiculous. You barely even want the man who gave it to you—certainly not with the way he’d looked at you like a piece of meat. But the thought lingers, an itch you can’t scratch. It’s been days.

Days since Joel. Since that moment in the alleyway when he’d almost—almost—crossed that invisible line, only to walk away and leave you in pieces. Him avoiding you, pretending you didn’t exist, and making himself scarce in any space you held. It was starting to leave an ache in you that you didn't realize you'd had for him.

You had never thought about Joel like that—

—now there was a damn lie.

You’d be kidding yourself if Joel’s broad, bulky figure didn’t creep into your thoughts late at night when you were all alone. But never had those thoughts been so intense as the past few nights, replaying what might’ve happened if he hadn’t stopped, if he’d kissed you against the brick wall of that alley.

But you couldn’t have Joel Miller. You wouldn’t allow it. Not the skulking asshole who was always sending jabs your way during jobs, overbearing and overprotective, acting like you couldn’t handle yourself. He had this infuriating way of thinking you needed saving, that he always had to be there, hovering just close enough to drive you insane.

Still, the note sits there, and something about its presence feels heavier than it should. You grab it, shoving it into your pocket with a frustrated sigh. It’s not like Joel has a claim on you. Hell, it’s not like you owe him anything after the way he walked away without looking back.

You won’t think about Joel. Not tonight.

But as you step into the dimly lit hallway and make your way toward the other man’s apartment, the little voice in the back of your mind pleads for you to knock on Joel's door instead.

The hallways of the old apartment block are dark, the overhead lights flickering in a familiar, uneven rhythm. Your steps echo faintly against the cracked tiles as you make your way toward the room number scribbled on the paper. Each step feels heavier than the last, and a gnawing doubt twists in your gut.

You pass by doors, most of them silent, others humming with muffled conversations or static from a radio. You’re so focused on pushing the brooding asshole from your mind that you don’t notice the door swinging open as you pass—not until his voice stops you cold.

“You really thinkin’ about goin’ to see that scumbag?”

You freeze, your pulse spiking as you turn to see Joel’s figure fill the doorway just a few steps behind you. His eyes bore into you, dark and smoldering with something between anger and disbelief. His large arms are braced against the doorframe, his shoulders cutting an imposing figure even in the dim light.

“Excuse me?” you say, your voice sharper than you intend, but it’s all you can manage to cover the flush creeping up your neck.

Joel steps forward, his expression hard, his gaze flicking down to the slight bulge in your pocket where the note sits. “Don’t play dumb,” he growls. “I know he lives on this floor. You goin' to see 'em?”

You bristle, your defenses slamming into place. “What does it matter to you?”

Joel takes a step closer, and even in the dim light, the tension in his jaw is unmistakable. “It matters,” he growls, his voice low and uneven, “because I know exactly what kinda bastard he is. And you don’t.”

You scoff, crossing your arms defensively. “What, you think I can’t handle myself?”

His lips twitch, just enough to make your blood boil. “Nah,” he says, the drawl in his voice sharper than usual, his words cutting. “I know you can’t, darlin’. Not with someone like him.”

The sweetness of that word—darlin’—wrapped in condescension is like a match to gasoline. Your blood ignites, the heat rushing up your neck as you step closer, closing the gap until you’re nearly chest to chest.

Your jaw tightens, your fists clenching at your sides as heat floods your cheeks. “You arrogant son of a bitch,” you snap, taking a step closer, your eyes locking onto his with a fire that matches his own, “You don’t get to stand there acting like you know what’s best for me.”

Joel doesn’t move, doesn’t even flinch, though the flicker of something darker passes through his eyes. “I know more than you think,” he says quietly, his voice low and measured.

“Oh, really?” you shoot back, leaning in, your finger jabbing at his chest. “Then enlighten me, Joel. Tell me why it’s your problem if I decide to go to someone else. Because last I checked, you’ve been avoiding me for days."

His jaw tightens, his lips pressing into a hard line. “That's what you think this is? That I don't wanna be near you?” he asks, his voice dropping lower, rougher.

You scoff, leaning in closer, your voice dripping with challenge. “Damn straight. I think you’re scared.”

That does it. Joel lets out a short, humorless laugh, shaking his head slightly. Then he leans in, his breath hot against your skin, his eyes locked on yours. “I ain’t scared of you, sugar,” he growls, his voice low, smooth, and cutting.

The nickname sends a jolt through you, not sweet like it should be but sharp, taunting. His words, the way his gaze lingers on you like he’s daring you to say something else, make your blood boil.

Before you can answer, he moves. His hand curls around your throat, tugging you forward until you’re almost flush against him. The heat of his skin is like an iron vice, firm but not cruel, and yet the sensation of it sends a shiver through you. Your breath hitches, your heart pounding in your chest as your hands fly up to steady themselves on him.

“You wanna know why I stayed away?” he murmurs against the shell of your ear, his voice rough.

Your heart nearly gallops in your chest as his hand releases your neck just to move up, cupping your face with a contrasting tenderness, his thumb brushing your face.

“I stayed away,” he continues, his lips nearly brushing the skin of your cheekbone, “’cause if I didn’t, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself."

The words wrap around you, pulling you under, and for a moment, the world narrows to just him—the rasp of his voice, the heat of his breath, the intensity in his eyes. Your hands instinctively grip the front of his shirt, grounding yourself in the feel of him.

“Then don’t stop," you whisper, the words trembling out of you like they’ve been waiting to escape.

Joel’s resolve snaps like a thread pulled too tight. His hand falls from your face to grab your wrist, pulling you into his apartment, the door slamming behind you with enough force to make the old hinges shake. The sound reverberates through the quiet space, but you barely register it before he pushes you up against the door.

His hands are at your waist first, gripping you tightly, his body crowding you like he’s trying to absorb every inch of space you hold. His lips crash against yours, rough and unrelenting, his kiss so consuming it leaves you breathless. There’s nothing gentle about it—there's a hunger, as though he’s been holding this back for far too long.

One of his hands moves upward, sliding into your hair. His fingers tangle at the nape of your neck, tightening into a firm fist. The pull sends your head back, exposing the line of your throat, and your lips part instinctively, a sharp whimper escaping before you can stop it.

The sound seems to spur him on. His lips break away from yours, trailing down to your jaw and lower still, finding the sensitive skin of your neck. His beard scrapes roughly against you, and the sharp contrast of his teeth grazing your skin sends a shiver down your spine.

“Joel—” Your voice falters as his lips press against your throat, his teeth scraping lightly before he nips at the soft flesh.

“Mmm," he hums, his voice muffled against your neck, "My name sounds so good on your pretty lips, baby." His hand on your waist grips you firmly, holding you in place as his lips and teeth move against you.

“You think I’d let some bastard like him have you?” he growls against your neck, his voice thick with frustration. “That anyone but me could have you?"

All you know how to do is whimper as you're clawing at his shoulders as he holds you brutally in place, your neck exposed to him as he bites down hard on the flesh of your shoulder, causing you to gasp in surprise.

Your nails dig into his shoulders, the coarse fabric of his shirt doing little to protect him from your frantic grip. He groans low in his throat at the sensation, the sound vibrating against your skin and making your knees weak.

“Shh, shh,” he coos, his voice softer now, pulling himself away just enough to look at you. His gaze drifts down to your flushed skin, the way your chest heaves with each labored breath, your pupils blown wide, and your lips parted.

His thumb brushes your jaw as he leans in, pecking your lips with a tenderness that feels like a stark contrast to the fire from moments ago. It’s soft, slow, making you mewl against his touch.

“I know, baby girl,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your skin. His voice is so gentle now, so caressing and tender, it almost gives you whiplash it's so contrasting to the possessiveness of him, “Don’t ever make me watch you walk toward someone else again, you hear me?”

His hand loosens in your hair, the sharp tug easing into a comforting caress at the nape of your neck. You nod, swallowing hard as you try to catch your breath, your heart still pounding against your ribs.

Without hardly a warning, Joel’s lips crash back into yours, swallowing any words you might have spoken. His hand moves to your hip, gripping tightly as his body presses against yours, keeping you firmly against the door. The hand that was previously tangled in your hair cups gently at your jaw, tilting your head to allow him just the right angle for his tongue to slide into your wanting mouth.

Your hands slide beneath his shirt, exploring the warm, solid planes of his back, your nails scraping lightly against his skin. The sharp groan he lets out vibrates against your lips, his kiss growing rougher, more desperate.

His hands move with purpose now, one sliding under your shirt, the roughness of his calloused palm scorching a path up your side. The fabric bunches as he pushes it higher, his fingers grazing the edge of your ribs. His mouth leaves yours only to drag along your jaw and down your neck again, his teeth scraping just enough to make you gasp.

“Joel,” you whisper, the sound a mix of need and surrender, your head tilting back as his lips find your collarbone.

His hands tug at your shirt, pulling it over your head in one swift motion before his mouth is back on yours. His kisses are ravenous as though he’s been starving for this. You tug at his shirt in return, your fingers fumbling slightly in your haste before he pulls away just long enough to yank it off himself, the muscles in his chest and arms flexing with the motion.

His groan rumbles against your lips as his hands roam your body, his calloused palms grazing your bare skin. He cups your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples, teasing until they pebble under his touch.

Eventually he lowers himself just enough to take a nipple into his mouth, his tongue swiping in slow, deliberate circles, coaxing a soft moan from your lips. The sensation has your fingers gripping his shoulders, keeping him close as he lavishes your skin with attention. He hums against you, the vibration sending a shiver down your spine as he switches to your other breast, giving it the same torturous care.

When he rolls your nipple between his teeth and sucks hard, your back arches off the door, a desperate moan escaping your throat. Your hands find their way into his hair, tugging at the soft strands, spurring him on.

When his fingers hook into the waistband of your jeans, he tugs them down in one smooth motion, the fabric pooling at your ankles. His gaze lifts to yours, and the way those dark, molten eyes bore into you makes your knees nearly give out.

He sinks to his knees with a quiet grunt, a faint crack from his joints drawing a flicker of a smile to your lips. But Joel doesn’t even flinch. His focus remains entirely on you, his large hands gripping your hips as he looks up at you, the sight alone enough to leave you breathless.

Joel Miller, on his knees.

For you.

His lips press to your hips, then the tops of your thighs, his beard scraping deliciously against your skin. He moves slowly, purposefully, savoring every inch of you as if he has all the time in the world. When he finally plants a kiss on your clothed mound, starting at the pubic bone and moving lower, your breath catches.

“Joel—” you plead again, like it’s the only word you know. Your brain feels like mush as he pulls your leg over his shoulder, his nose pressing against your panty-clad center, inhaling deeply.

“Knew you’d be so good for me,” he whispers, the shape of his lips forming the words against the fabric. His tongue darts out, teasing through the thin barrier, and the sensation makes your thighs tremble. “Knew you’d taste so fuckin’ sweet, baby girl.”

He flattens his tongue against your panties, dragging it in a slow, deliberate motion that leaves your jaw slack as you watch him. His mouth teases and tastes you, giving you just enough to light every nerve on fire but never enough to satisfy. Goosebumps race across your skin, and your head tilts back against the door as your eyes flutter shut, a soft moan spilling from your lips.

“Can taste this soaked pussy already, honey,” he moans, his voice low and rough, vibrating against you. His hand tightens on your hip, holding you steady as he presses a kiss to your most sensitive spot, still teasingly covered by the damp fabric. “Who’s all this for?”

Your brain struggles to keep up, the molten heat building in your core making it almost impossible to think. But then, that little devil on your shoulder gets the better of you, and before you can stop yourself, you murmur, “The guy down the hall,"

Joel stops.

The room goes silent, the teasing ministrations of his mouth halting as he pulls back just enough to look up at you. His eyes meet yours, dark and unreadable, and in that moment, you’re reminded of exactly who Joel Miller is.

Not just the man whose hands have been roaming your body, whose lips left you breathless—no, the killer. The smuggler. The man who has stared death in the face and walked away without flinching. The man who has done unspeakable things without hesitation, without mercy.

That edge, that dangerous part of him, flashes behind his eyes now, sharp and unforgiving. It makes your stomach twist, your heart pounding in the sudden stillness.

Joel doesn’t move, doesn’t speak at first, just stares at you like he’s deciding what to do with you. His jaw ticks, his expression hardening, and slowly, his grip on your thigh tightens just enough to make you hiss, to remind you of the strength he holds--the sheer power in his hands.

“You wanna say that again?” he mutters, his voice low and laced with quiet menace, and for a fleeting second, you’re not sure if he’s going to kiss you or destroy you.

Within a second, Joel drops your thigh and stands abruptly, towering over you once again. Before your heart can catch up, he’s pulling you across the room with ease, guiding your body toward the bed. He pushes you forward, and you land on all fours, your hands catching your fall against the soft blankets.

You barely have time to process the shift before he’s already behind you. The clang of his belt buckle hitting the floor sends a shiver through you, your body hyperaware of every sound, every movement.

“You’re gonna regret sayin’ that, honey,” he drawls, his voice low and dangerous as his fingers snag the waistband of your panties, dragging them down with a deliberate slowness. The cool air brushes against your bare skin, and you feel the rough calluses of his fingertips as they trail over you.

Joel hisses as his fingers slide along your bare wetness, spreading you open just enough to tease.  Your breath catches when he strokes himself against you, his cock hot and heavy as it presses against your entrance. The head of him is enough to make you freeze, your body tensing at the sheer size of him.

“Shhh,” he soothes, his hand trailing down your spine, the pads of his fingers brushing lightly as they go. “S’alright, baby. You can take it. Just after throwin’ that shit in my face, I can’t let ya have it easy, can I?”

You shake your head quickly, your breath coming in short gasps. “No, sir,” you whisper, the words slipping out before you can stop them.

“That’s a good girl,” he murmurs, his voice soft but laced with control. His hands grip your hips, guiding you as he nudges your legs further apart with his knees. “Get down for me.”

You lower yourself onto the bedspread so your cheek is brushing the blanket, your arms splayed out beside you. Your body instinctively obeys his command, your back arching as you raise your hips higher for him. Joel moves one foot onto the bed, bracing himself as he leans over you, the sheer weight of him pressing down, making you feel completely at his mercy.

Joel shifts behind you, his hand splayed over your lower back as he holds you in place. The weight of his palm is grounding, steady, a stark contrast to the tension crackling in the air around you. You feel the heat of him pressing against you, his cock dragging along your slick folds, teasing, deliberate.

“Look at you,” he mutters, his voice rough and gravelly. “All laid out for me like this.” His other hand grips your hip firmly, his fingers digging into your skin as he lines himself up. “This is where you belong, baby. Right here. Under me.”

The words send a shiver down your spine, and before you can respond, he pushes forward. The stretch is immediate, sharp and nearly unbearable, his cock filling you inch by inch as he moves slowly, giving you time to adjust.

“Shit,” Joel hisses, his grip on your hip tightening as he sinks deeper. “So tight for me, baby girl. You feel that? Feel how good you’re takin’ me?”

You whimper, your fingers clutching the blankets as your body arches back instinctively, chasing the sensation. Joel growls low in his throat at the motion, his hand sliding up to grab a fistful of your hair, gently pulling your head back as he leans down over you.

“Patience,” he murmurs, his lips brushing the curve of your ear. “We’re doin’ this my way.”

He pulls back again, just enough to make you whine at the loss before pressing forward again, deeper this time. Each thrust is slow, measured, driving you to the edge but never letting you tumble over. His control is maddening, the steady rhythm of his movements keeping you suspended in a haze of pleasure and frustration.

Your body arches instinctively, the pressure building in your core, but Joel doesn’t let you move an inch beyond what he allows, his hands still holding you firmly in place.

“Your pussy’s squeezin’ me like a damn vice, baby,” he hisses, his voice gravelly and thick with heat. His hands roam over your hips, rough palms smoothing over the curve of your waist as he grinds into you. “You gonna cum soon, aren’t you, darlin’?”

Your breath catches at his dirty words, the pressure low in your belly coiling tighter with every calculated roll of his hips. “Yes,” you gasp, your voice trembling as you squeeze your eyes shut. “Yes, yes, yes…”

Joel chuckles darkly, his pace slowing even further, drawing out your desperation. His hands still on your hips, holding you firmly in place as you writhe beneath him. “Aw,” he tuts, his tone dripping with mock sympathy. “That’s too bad, ain’t it?”

Your eyes fly open as he leans down, his chest pressing against your back. His lips brush your ear, his voice low and taunting. “Good girls get to cum,” he murmurs, each word slow and deliberate, his breath hot against your skin. “But you and that smart mouth? You don’t get nothin’ until I say so.”

Joel straightens back up, his grip on your hips like iron as he slams into you without warning, the force of it stealing the breath from your lungs. The slow, taunting rhythm from before is gone, replaced by something primal, raw. Each thrust is rough, unrelenting, the sound of skin meeting skin echoing in the room as he drives into you with relentless precision.

Your fingers clutch at the blankets beneath you, your body rocking forward with the intensity of his movements. The coil in your belly tightens with every harsh thrust, your legs trembling as he pushes you closer and closer to the edge.

Broken moans continue to escape your lips, your body arching instinctively as you try to meet his pace, but his hands on your hips keep you firmly in place, leaving you no control.

“Not so smart now, huh?” he mutters, his tone laced with dark satisfaction as he drives into you harder. “Thought you could tease me, baby? Play your little games?”

The pressure inside you is unbearable now, your body trembling, desperate for release, but Joel isn’t letting you have it. He keeps you teetering on the brink, holding you there with a mastery that has you whimpering, your head dropping forward as you gasp for air.

“Please,” you finally cry, your voice breaking as the words spill from your lips. “Joel, please!”

He leans down again, one hand sliding up your spine to grip the back of your neck, his breath hot against your ear. “Not yet,” he growls, his voice thick with control. “You don’t get to cum until I hear you say it.”

You sob softly, your body trembling with the effort of holding back as he fucks you harder, his movements leaving you raw and desperate.

“Say it,” he demands, his hand tightening on your neck, his thrusts unrelenting. “Say you belong to me.”

Your breath hitches, your mind too hazy to resist anymore. “I belong to you,” you gasp, your voice trembling, barely more than a whisper.

“Louder,” he growls, his hips slamming into you, pushing you even closer to the edge.

“I belong to you!” you cry, your voice breaking with the force of your desperation, "I'm yours Joel, all yours. It's all for you,"

“Good girl,” he moans, his tone dripping with satisfaction. “Now show me, baby. Show me how good you are for me.”

With one hand still gripping your hip, Joel’s other slides down to where your bodies meet, his rough fingers finding your swollen clit. The sharp jolt of pleasure has you crying out, your body bucking against him as he circles it with maddening precision.

The combination of his thrusts and his fingers is overwhelming, the pressure inside you finally snapping as you’re thrown over the edge. Your body tenses, your thighs shaking as your release crashes through you in waves, pulling a loud, broken moan from your lips.

Joel groans low in his throat, his pace faltering slightly as he watches you come undone around him, your walls fluttering and squeezing him tight. “That’s it,” he growls, his voice strained, “That's my good girl, give me everything,"

He stays leaning down over you now, driving into you, chasing his own high. His arms hold you against his body tightly, his breath is ragged, his movements erratic as he holds you firmly against him.

With a deep, guttural groan, Joel presses deep, his cock twitching as his release spills into you, hot and overwhelming. His hips stutter as he rides it out, his hands keeping you pinned against him, his body shuddering with the force of it.

The room is filled with the sound of your heavy breathing, the both of you trembling and spent. Joel leans forward, his lips brushing against the back of your neck as his hands soften their grip, caressing your skin now instead of digging into it.

After one last exhale, Joel shifts, the tension leaving his body as he falls onto the bed bedside you, laying onto his back and pulling you into him. His arms wrap around you, warm and secure, holding you against his chest. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat is warm, grounding you as you relax into him.

His hand moves slowly, gently tracing soft circles along your back, his rough fingers soothing against your skin. You tuck your head into the crook of his neck, your breath warm as it fans over his collarbone.

“You alright, baby?” he asks again, his voice softer now, laced with concern and tenderness.

You hum, your hand coming up to his face, tracing your fingers along the rough planes of his jaw. “Better than alright,” you whisper, your voice hoarse but content.

His lips twitch into a faint smile, and he leans down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “Good,” he murmurs, his voice low and soothing. “Sorry if I was--”

“You weren’t,” you cut him off softly, your fingers brushing along the valleys of his arm, “It was perfect.”

Joel’s arms tighten around you slightly, his thumb stroking idly along the curve of your shoulder. For a moment, you don’t say anything, content to listen to the rhythmic sound of his breathing, to feel the warmth of his body enveloping yours. His chest rises and falls beneath you, steady and calming, and you let your eyes drift closed.

Joel shifts slightly, adjusting the blanket over the both of you before settling back down, his chin resting lightly against the top of your head. His hands never stop moving, slow and steady, as if to remind you he’s there, that he’s not going anywhere.

“Get some rest,” Joel murmurs, his lips brushing against your temple in a soft, lingering kiss. “I’ve got you.”