Bluebonnet
summary: Is Joel Miller your friend? No. You’re not even sure if he actually likes you or just puts up with you because of his kid. Then he kicks some guy's ass in a bar for getting handsy with you, and you’re starting to think maybe he might like you a little…
rating: E (18+!! No y/n, Grumpy Joel Miller, Protective Joel Miller, Soft Joel Miller, age gap (unspecified but reader was born before the outbreak), unprotected p in v (wrap it up), creampie, oral sex (f + m receiving), 69 position, dirty talk, praise kink, spanking, spit mention, slight breeding kink, Joel has a big dick, Joel being kinda a dick, a random guy harassing you then getting beat up by Joel, canon typical violence, icing Joel’s knuckles, feelings confessions, Ellie being Ellie and the star of the show, AU where Joel doesn’t lie to Ellie and their relationship is still good)
pairing: Joel Miller/f!reader
word count: 5.5k+
a/n: Literally, a scene in this woke me up from dead sleep at five in the goddamn morning, and I spent thirty minutes plotting the whole one shot while barely awake. This fic was very spur of the moment that I wrote in less than two days, so it’s unbeta’d. All mistakes are my own. Please be horny about Joel protecting you with me.
Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs feed me. I’d love to know what you thought!
Masterlist
Is Joel Miller your friend?
No.
Are you on friendly terms?
You thought so.
Joel isn’t the most social of fellas—he’s basically a feral cat that wants to be left alone.
If you aren’t friends with him, then how did you become the regular occupant of the seat across from his in the Jackson mess hall every breakfast and dinner?
The answer is simple: Ellie.
It all started months ago when you first got to Jackson and met the teen after being assigned to a job rotation with her. She was so excited about finding out you lived in Texas for many years before the world went to hell she invited you to eat dinner with her so you could meet someone, and that’s how you were introduced to Austin-native Joel Miller.
He’s a bit older than you, never smiles, and isn’t much of a talker but still polite enough to answer a question if you ask it, even if it’s more of a grumble at the start of the day. With Ellie, though, it was different. He talked to her, and his voice was like coming home after a long day and settling in on the couch—that familiar Texan accent making you feel all warm and comfy, his words wrapping around you like a tight blanket and taking you back to a time when things were good and safe.
The morning after the first dinner, Ellie had called you over to sit with them for breakfast, and again that evening, little bits of conversation happening between bites as you got a grasp on what the relationship was between this young girl and man—it was clearly father-daughter in nature even if she didn’t call him ‘dad,’ and you savored every word she wheedled out of him.
It got to the point where the teenager didn’t have to beckon you over, and you just knew to set your food down in the seat in front of Joel to eat with them, always smiling at Ellie giving him so much shit, chatting with them or more the young girl, with Joel occasionally offering clipped anecdotes, and you trying not to acknowledge his handsomeness—you weren’t sure if he even liked you or if he was just putting up with you for the sake of his kid.
He does have a lovely voice and is very attractive with those expressive chocolate-colored eyes that sometimes soften when he looks at his daughter; you could imagine his grey hair would be soft to the touch, and it’s obvious those full lips of his are kissable. Honestly, it’s surprising he’s not seeing anyone that you know of or Ellie is aware of, with how damn pretty he is.
His broad shoulders and how his flannels stretch over his chest.
His neck.
God, he’s sure nice to look at.
And Ellie is a great kid who trusted you, coming to you anytime she needed advice or wanted to talk about something, and you were happy to be there for her.
The breakfast and dinner routine had been going on for so long that even though Joel didn’t talk at length to you, you’d managed to learn quite a bit about him from questions he’d answer or conversations he had with his kid or brother in front of you. He definitely knew a lot about you, too.
Now, back to why you’re not sure if he likes you.
That morning when you went to breakfast, you were running on autopilot—piled your plate with food, grabbed your cup of shitty coffee that made you want to cry with how much you missed Starbucks, and set it all down in your usual spot, where you started to eat.
When your brain finally began working, that’s when you realized it was abnormally quiet at your table, and you looked up to realize Ellie wasn’t there—it was just Joel. He must have seen some kind of look on your face since he grumbled out she was with a friend. Then when you asked if he wanted you to sit somewhere else, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and he told you no before going back to eating in silence.
That put a point in the maybe he wasn’t just putting up with you for the sake of his daughter column and made you smile a little the rest of the meal.
She wasn’t at dinner either.
This had you standing near your seat, chewing on your lip, debating on sitting elsewhere until Joel sighed loudly, setting down his fork to tell you in a tone that brokered no room for argument to sit, so you did.
After a few bites, you almost choked to death when he asked how your day was.
There was actual back and forth between just the two of you, and you were in heaven at how much he was speaking, another point going toward he might like you.
Those interactions had you feeling really hopeful, and you were excited for breakfast the next day, wondering if he’d try to talk to you more.
It’s been over half a year since you arrived in town, and you have managed to make some friends, who you knew for sure were your friends, and also closer to your age. When a couple of them asked if you wanted to get a drink that night and play some pool, you happily agreed.
The place is practically empty when you arrive.
Standing at the bar, chatting with your friend Mathias as you wait for the bartender to make your drinks, you can feel someone staring at you. Doing a quick glance of the room has your stomach dropping and is the reason you’re pretty fucking sure Joel doesn’t care for you; he’s sitting across the room at a table in the corner, glaring at you—not just glaring, if looks could kill you’d be deader than dead he looks so pissed off, and you’re about to go find out what his problem is when two things happen:
Mathias excuses himself to the restroom, and some man you’ve never seen, let alone spoken to, gets your attention on your other side.
“Hey.” The interloper squeezes your arm, which makes your head turn toward him, shaking him off.
“Don’t touch me,” you reply.
There’s nothing special about the guy—he’s probably younger than you, has floppy blonde hair, and a clean-shaven face, but something in his eyes made you feel uneasy.
“My apologies,” he says, putting up his hands placatingly. “This is my first night here, and I’m just trying to make a new friend. Have a drink with me.”
“Welcome to Jackson, and no, thank you, I’m here with friends.”
“I’m sure they won’t mind if you have one drink with me.” His voice goes lower, “We could have some real fun together.” He has the audacity to grab your ass, and you step out of his reach.
“I said don’t fucking touch me.”
The bartender has gone into the back, Mathias is nowhere in sight, and your other friend is in another room where the pool table is with the jukebox playing.
Something flashes in his eyes, and it has your heart pounding.
“Don’t be like that. Just one drink,” he says, coming closer.
You are readying to fight the bastard when all of a sudden, someone is grabbing his collar, and you see a fist connect with his face in a sickening crunch that makes you gasp.
Joel yanks the guy in front of him.
“She said not to fuckin’ touch her,” he grits through his teeth. “And that she didn’t wanna have a drink with you.”
“I’m sorry,” the other man wheezes, blood oozing from his clearly broken nose. “I’ll leave.”
“Yes, you fuckin’ will—after I teach you some fuckin’ manners.”
With that, he punches him again and again and again.
You’re no damsel in distress—you’ve survived the fucking apocalypse for the last twenty years practically alone and could easily fight your way out of dangerous situations. But having someone stand up for you and protect you? It’s really doing it for you, except you’re genuinely worried Joel will murder this man, so you move toward him.
“Stop, Joel!” you shout, pushing on his shoulder, and he does immediately, his eyes meeting yours. “He’ll leave; toss him out. Please, Joel. Don’t kill him.”
His chest rises and falls as he pants, nodding his head once before hauling the groaning man to the door and throwing him out. The bartender chose that moment to come back, as well as your friend.
There was a worried expression on Mathias’ face. “Is everything okay?” he asks.
“Yeah,” you answer. The drinks are sitting on the bartop, and you gesture toward them. “I’ve got something to do, so take those for me, okay?”
Confusion is etched on his brow. “Okay…?” He strategically picks up the three glasses and heads for the other room with the pool table.
Your attention moves to the man behind the bar. “Hey, can I get some ice in a rag?”
“Sure thing,” he replies, going to the block and using the ice pick.
Joel didn’t return to you. Instead, he went back to his table like the last however many minutes didn’t happen, and it makes you sigh.
His mixed signals have you so confused you’re ready to just get it all out in the open.
The bartender hands you some ice wrapped in a towel, and you walk over to Joel, having to drag the seat across from his around so you’re next to him, seeing his right hand shaking around his glass with bloodied knuckles.
He won’t even look at you.
“Give me your hand,” you order him.
“I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not. Give me your fucking hand.”
“No.”
“Stop being a stubborn asshole, and let me ice your fucking knuckles.”
“I said I’m fine.”
He won’t give you his hand, so you do the next best thing and press the ice against them while they hold his drink, Joel hissing at the coldness.
His head turns to glare at you.
“Don’t give me that look.” You glare right back. “I’m helping you.”
“I don’t need your help,” he practically spits out.
Taking a deep breath, you ready yourself for what you’re going to say.
“We had a nice dinner,” you tell him.
His eyebrows furrow.
“What?”
“We had a nice dinner with just the two of us where we talked—you didn’t smile, but it was the most you’ve ever said to me, and this morning, you let me eat with you. You’re not a people person, and I wasn’t sure if you liked me all that much, but our meals today made me think you might. Then tonight you were glaring at me—”
“When was I glarin’ at you?” he interrupts.
“Before that creep started getting handsy.”
“Oh, I wasn’t lookin’ at you…” His eyes dart away.
You’re confused.
“There’s like no one here. Who were you looking at?”
He sighs loudly. “Your boyfriend,” he mumbles.
“Huh?”
“Your boyfriend—the guy you’re here with.”
“Oh, Mathias? I’m not his type, and he’s already in a relationship. I don’t have a boyfriend or a girlfriend, or a partner—I’m not seeing anyone. You should know this.”
“Oh.”
“Okay, so you weren’t glaring at me, you were glaring at my non-existent boyfriend, and then you came in hot like some knight in shining armor and beat the shit out of that asshole for doing me wrong. Sooo, you maybe like me?”
He looked at you with a squinted gaze, like the answer was obvious.
“I more than maybe like you,” he replies.
That has your eyes widening.
“Wait, in the romantic or platonic sense?”
“There’s no point in talkin’ about this,” he sighs, looking down at the amber liquid in his cup.
“Um, yes, there is because if I have a shot at breaking off a piece of this Kit Kat bar, I’d like to take it.”
His gaze met yours, and you could see the hope swirling in the dark pools.
“In the, uh, romantic or platonic sense?”
Smiling, you answer, “Romantic—I’ve basically been crushing on you since I met you. We’ve known each other for months, almost a year. You’re such a good father to Ellie, a hard worker around town, and you let some random person sit with you during your meals—”
It takes your breath away when he smiles softly and talks when you pause, “You’re not some random person, and I would’ve been stupid to turn away such a beautiful woman.”
“Oh, god, you’re hot and charming.” He chuckles, and your heart picks up in pace. “How are you making me like you more?”
“I don’t know, Blue.”
“Blue?”
“As in Bluebonnet.”
Which was Texas’ state flower and makes you feel so soft at how sweet the nickname is.
“I love it.”
The smile falls from his face.
“You, uh, don’t mind my age?” He scratches at his mustache.
Ellie had made you very aware of how old Joel was.
“No? I think you’re extremely attractive. Does the age difference bother you?”
“No.” He shakes his head.
“What now?” you ask.
“Jesus, it’s been so fuckin’ long,” he says, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I guess I’ll court you—take you on a proper date.”
“Second option, that’s more immediate, and we can go with your plan tomorrow.”
He looks at you.
“Yeah?”
“Is Ellie home tonight?”
His eyebrows dip together.
“Yeah?”
Smirking, you say, “Okay, so why don’t we go back to my place, and I properly thank you for what you did tonight.”
You see his throat bob as he swallows, his voice going deeper when he asks, “How do you wanna thank me?”
A smile pulls up on your lips, moving forward to whisper in his good ear, “I was thinking I’d suck your dick.” His breath stutters. “Then have you fuck me however you want.” That makes him groan, and you grin.
His hand moves out from under the ice and up to cradle your face, along with the other, when his body turns, making you look him in the eyes.
“I was stupid for leavin’ you alone ‘cause I assumed you wouldn’t want anythin’ to do with someone as old as me.”
You snort. “Uh, yeah. You went a little hard with the leaving me alone, but I’ll forgive you if you kiss me right now.”
No other words are said. His mouth crushes against yours, swallowing your surprised sound as he kisses you hard. Your fingers end up tangling in his grey waves of hair, your heart hammering in your chest and pulsing at the apex of your thighs. It’s obvious he hasn’t kissed in a while, and you’re in the same boat, both of you figuring things out until there’s a rhythm, and things are heating up with a slip of your tongue into his mouth to slide along his. The need inside you builds and builds until your lungs start to ache for oxygen, and you break apart, his nose nuzzling yours as you both pant with a smile on your lips.
“Let’s go,” he says, and you don’t have to be told twice.
He washed his hands before you left the bar, so it wasn’t obvious he’d just been in a fight.
Having Joel lead you through town is like having a big, scary dog on a leash with how people get out of his way. It’s a little surprising he even knows where you live when you find yourself walking through your front gate.
“How—”
“Ellie,” he answers before you even ask the question, his feet stomping up the two porch steps and you following. “She’s free to hang out with whoever and go wherever. I just ask she tells me where she’ll be.”
“That’s very ‘cool dad’ of you.”
You’re standing at the front door, him out of your way.
“She’s not allowed to leave Jackson without me. If I tell her to stay away from someone, she stays away from them. I expect her to be a model citizen and do the jobs she’s required to do. Unless we talked beforehand, she must be home in time for breakfast and dinner.”
“So, today, you knew it’d just be the two of us?”
“She asked last night to stay at Cat’s house.” That’s Ellie’s best friend. “They’re staying over at our place tonight.”
“Probably won’t even notice you’re missing then,” you say with a smile. The door’s unlocked, and you push it open before turning to grab Joel by the collar, pulling him in for a kiss as he walks you backward into the house with his arms wrapping around your back.
It’s a tangle of tongues, a clash of teeth, one of Joel’s hands moving to massage your breast while your fingers worked open the buttons on his shirt, him shrugging it off by the time you make it to your bedroom door you led him to. Once inside, he strips you first, spending quite a bit of time licking and sucking on your tits when they’re bared and stopping you when you try to work open his pants, learning he’s really fucking strong when he easily tosses you onto the middle of the bed.
Quickly, you’re sitting up on your knees, and you get a good look at the sizable bulge at the front of his jeans; Joel standing there with his hands on his hips, staring at your body with a hungry gaze, his tongue swiping across his bottom lip. Scars are littering the golden expanse of skin on his front and arms of varying sizes, a newer one you spot on his lower torso, all of them telling you he’s fought like hell to make it to this point.
Shuffling forward, you’re tired of waiting, your hands going to the button on the front of his pants. Joel’s palm engulfs yours to stop you, his head tilting down to meet your confused eyes.
“You don’t need to suck my dick for what I did,” he says.
“Okay. What if I just want to suck your dick for the hell of it?”
His lips tip up in a crooked smile, and you’re enjoying seeing his different smiles.
“Then have at it, but I wanna lick your pussy until you come on my tongue.”
You suck in a breath, your cunt clenching hard around nothing.
“If you can get me off with your mouth, you’re not gonna be able to get rid of me.”
His eyebrow arches. “Is that so?”
“Yeah. You’ll be stuck with me.”
There’d been enough talking, so you deftly popped open the button and pulled down the zipper, grabbing the waistband to tug his jeans down his thighs. You’re pleasantly surprised he goes commando, and then you get a good look at his hard cock, and it’s glorious.
He’s thick, long, with a nice curve upwards, and you’re wondering if you’ll be able to fit him in your mouth—you’re definitely up for the challenge, licking your lips at the thought. Your fingers don’t even wrap all the way around him when you take him in hand, giving him a few quick strokes.
“Wait,” he says, stopping your movements.
“What?” you ask, looking up at him.
“Hold on,” is all he replies, getting his pants the rest of the way down, kicking them off, and removing his socks. Walking around the side of your queen size bed, you’re turning in place to follow his movements as he gets on the mattress with a groan and the springs squeaking as he moves to the middle, his legs on either side of you, grabbing one of your pillows to put under his head that he lifts to look at you. “Sit on my face.” It’s an order, and he pats his chest to show you he means it.
“I thought I was giving you a blow job…?” You point at his dick resting against his stomach.
“You are,” he replies. “We’re doin’ both. Now, get up here,” he orders again, his face grumpy, patting his chest once more.
“Sheesh,” you say, moving over his leg and up the bed, thankful you showered before you went out. “You’re really bossy when you’re horny.”
When you’re within reach, he replies, “I’ll show you fuckin’ bossy,” and he puts his strength to work again, grunting while hauling you onto him with your back to his head and legs along his sides. His hand lands on the side of your ass in a sharp slap that makes you gasp, feeling the wetness between your legs, coating your inner thighs. “I’m eatin’ this pretty fuckin’ pussy,” he says, positioning you over his face, his hand giving your asscheek another hard spank causing you to clench. “And you’re gonna wrap that gorgeous fuckin’ mouth around my cock.”
You can’t respond because all train of thought leaves your brain when his mouth latches onto your cunt, feeling him groan into your sensitive skin, the sensations making your toes curl, and fire erupt in your center.
“Oh my god, Joel,” you moan. “It’s so good. It’s so fucking good.”
It takes a deep breath for you to focus on your task, spitting on your hand before grasping his hard dick in your palm, the tip red and shiny with his arousal, lowering your face to take him into your mouth. He’s salty on your tongue, your jaw open as wide as it will go as you hollow your cheeks and bob your head, stroking the considerable amount that won’t fit.
His hands have a firm grip on your hips, pulling you farther down on his face, and you’re really worried he’s going to suffocate while he eats you out like a man starving. Pleasure in winding in your belly, tighter and tighter, with how he’s licking at your folds, your eyes rolling back in your head when he sucks your sensitive little clit between his lips.
He’s really going to make you come, and it feels so fucking good you’re having a hard time sucking his cock, so lost in what he’s doing to you—saliva is dripping out of your mouth and down his shaft, making your hand slide easily along him while you have half a mind to suckle on the head of him.
You hit your breaking point suddenly, the coil inside you snapping, your body tensing up as you come with a loud moan, euphoria spreading out from your core. Joel groans into your cunt, his tongue pushing inside your sopping entrance to taste your release straight from the source, his hands grabbing handfuls of your ass and squeezing hard.
He must get his fill because he moves you off his face, hearing him take a deep breath.
“My good fuckin’ girl,” he says through panted breaths, rubbing your hips, his words causing a shiver to move down your spine. “Am I stuck with you?”
You’d given up on blowing him, your forehead resting against his thigh.
“Yeah,” you slur, sounding drunk. “How are you single?” It’s been a while since you’ve had that good of an orgasm.
He sighs and taps your hip. “Turn around, baby.”
Doing your best to turn, Joel helps you, getting you to straddle over his lower torso, your hands finding their place on his warm, flushed chest, seeing the grey hairs of his beard shining with your arousal and his lips frowning.
“Like you said earlier,” he says. “I’m not a people person.”
Your eyebrows knit together.
“I’m people…”
“No, you’re not. You’re my Texas Bluebonnet—my Blue.” His large palm comes up to stroke your cheek.
You’re wondering something. “Why did you talk to me at dinner?”
A sheepish look comes over his face. “‘Cause we were alone, and I didn’t have to worry about Ellie teasin’ me in front of you about my crush.”
“She knows?”
He grimaces. “Suspects. Since there’s only three people on this godforsaken planet I like, and you’re one of them.”
“And I’m the only one who’s not family—oh, that’s obvious.”
“Yeah…”
“Well, how do you want me?”
He looks confused. “Huh?”
“I said you can fuck me however you want,” you answer, sliding your hands up his pecs. “How do you want me, babe?”
When he smiles this time, you get a glimpse of his teeth. “Ride me.”
His answer has you grinning. “Cowgirl, like a true Texan.”
“I just love your tits,” he says, his big hands palming them.
“Good to know,” you reply with a wink.
Sitting up on your knees, you scoot back to get over his hips. His dick is still wet with your spit when you grab it and slide it through your folds before positioning him at your entrance.
There are nerves swirling in your belly, your eyes landing on his dark ones as you slowly start to drop down, seeing his mouth fall open with a gasp, his hands grabbing onto your thighs. You knew there’d be a stretch, but he’s bordering on uncomfortable in how your walls have to expand for his size, feeling the slight burn. When you finally bottom out, you’re beyond full—you’ve never felt fuller, and it takes your breath away.
“Jesus Christ,” his words are said through his teeth, his eyes squeezed shut. “Don’t move.”
His hard cock is throbbing inside you.
“Been a while?”
“Yeah.”
“Same. You’re so fucking big I’m gonna be sore after this.”
His dick jerks as he groans, “Don’t say that.”
“Damn, you’re that close?” you ask, soothingly stroking your hands over his chest.
You watch as his eyes blink open, the grumpy expression you’re used to appearing on his face.
“Don’t make fun of me.” He slaps your ass. “I haven’t fucked in a long time, and now I’m inside the perfect pussy—you’d be strugglin’ too if you were me.”
“I’m not making fun of you, Joel.” You lean forward to cup his cheek, feeling prickling stubble under your palm. “I think it’s hot. Like, you have no idea how flattered I’d be if I made you come right away—talk about an ego boost.”
He doesn’t look convinced, his eyes narrowing.
“Are you just sayin’ that to make me feel better?”
“Nope.” To prove your point, you sit up, bracing yourself with your hands on his chest as you start circling your hips.
His mouth goes slack, his eyes widening, a choked noise pulling from his throat that makes you smirk. “Fuck,” he pants. There’s sweat beading on his forehead, his cheeks a rosy pink. “You fit me like a fuckin’ glove.”
You’re slowly building into an up-and-down motion, feeling every ridge and vein of his cock rubbing against spots you didn’t know existed, sparks of pleasure igniting in your center as you throw your head back.
He must get a hold of himself because both of his hands come down on each of your asscheeks in loud, resounding smacks before he’s gripping them to help you move.
Looking down at him, there’s concentration on his brow.
“Your tight little pussy is takin’ me so fuckin’ well,” he says, hearing the wet sounds where you’re joined. “You love how I stretch you open?”
“Yes,” you moan.
You’re moving a little faster, moving up, and falling down a little harder, making the fire in your belly get hotter and hotter.
“Lean down.”
Doing as he says, your hands are on either side of his head while he continues helping you ride him. He lifts his face to pull a pebbled nipple between his lips, and the pleasure shoots straight to your pussy, making you gasp and more arousal spill around his length.
He laves at one bud, then the other as you work yourself up, the new angle allowing the coarse hairs at the base of his cock to rub deliciously against your clit, and you know you’re close.
Joel is groaning loudly, clearly in heaven, with his dick inside you and his mouth on your tits.
“You gonna come for me, baby?” he says around your hard nipple. “You gonna let me feel you squeeze my dick? Let me fuckin’ have it. Be a good fuckin’ girl and give it to me.”
It’s all too much, everything coming to a head as you fall over the edge with a cry of his name, clenching so hard around him, you’ve stopped moving with his cock buried to the root, pleasure radiating through your body.
Joel’s breathing hard under you, and you don’t sound any better while you come down from your high.
His arms suddenly hug you close to him, and you squeak in surprise when he flips you onto your back with his dick still inside you and his hips nestled in the cradle of your thighs. Lips find yours in a searing kiss, moaning as you taste yourself, welcoming his tongue when it slips into your mouth to tangle with your own.
He starts moving to chase his high, his thrusts hard and fast.
The bedsprings are squeaking loudly, the headboard banging into the wall, hearing the wet suck of your pussy taking his cock and your muffled moans paired with his muffled groans. There’s no mistaking what’s happening in this bedroom, and you just hope your neighbors don’t complain in the morning.
Your fingers have threaded into his hair, your bodies sweaty, his lips leave yours, opening your eyes to see his face screwed up like he’s in pain.
“Where do you want it?” he grits out.
If he’s asking, then he knows the risk.
“Inside.”
He opens his eyes wide. “Are you sure?”
It is a rare thing to want these days.
“Yes.”
His pace speeds up, grunting as he pistons into you, resting his head in the crook of your neck, feeling his hot breaths.
“You can fuckin’ have it,” he grunts. “Fuck you full of me—milk me fuckin’ dry. Fuck, you’re perfect.”
You know he’s close when his thrusts get jerky, then he’s pushing in hard one last time with a guttural groan, feeling the hot spurts of his come filling you, his hips continuing to roll until they finally come to a complete stop. It’s obvious he’s wrung out with how he practically collapses on top of you, but you welcome the weight, pushing your fingers into his hair and scratching at his scalp, which receives appreciative hums.
Minutes pass that neither of you speaks.
“‘M sorry,” the words are murmured into your neck.
“For what?” you softly ask.
“Makin’ you think I didn’t like you.”
“It’s kinda my fault, too. I mean, I am aware you don’t like people but you’ve eaten two meals a day with me for almost a year, so obviously you must like me somewhat.”
His head comes up with his eyebrows furrowed and his lips frowning.
“I like you more than somewhat.”
You smile. His hair is a mess, and you go about combing your fingers through it as you say, “Yes, I know that now. You like me.”
“I do.”
“And I like you.”
“Good.”
“I said you’re stuck with me, so can this be more than a one-time thing?”
His eyes squint in that same way where he thinks something is obvious.
“What?" he says. "I’m not lettin’ you go anywhere. You’re mine—my Blue.”
“Good. ‘Cause you’re mine, too.”
He kisses you passionately, and you lose yourself in it for a second until a thought has your eyes flying open and you pushing his face away.
“What?” he asks, bewildered.
“How are you going to tell Ellie?”
“Shit. Uh, we can sit her down tomorrow night—”
“No, this is a conversation you need to have with her alone.”
He winces. “I’ll talk to her tomorrow night after dinner...”
Is Joel Miller your boyfriend?
He absolutely hates you giving him that label, grumbling he prefers partner, but yes, he is your boyfriend.
Did Joel sneak out of your house in the early morning hours to his own so Ellie wouldn’t know he was gone all night?
Also, yes.
It’s the morning after, and you’re trying to act normal, ignoring how nervous you feel and the soreness between your legs as you sit down in your usual spot in front of Joel with your plate of breakfast. He’s changed into clean clothes and looks like he hasn’t slept, sipping on one of the two cups of shitty coffee in front of him, Ellie next to him already digging into some oatmeal with her spoon, which makes you realize—
“Ah, fuck,” you say, both of them looking at you. “I forgot to grab a fork.”
“I’ll get you one, baby,” Joel says as he sets his coffee down and starts to get up.
The three of you go completely still. Your eyes are wide, Joel’s close in regret, his cheeks turning pink, and Ellie looks like she’s going to explode with excitement until—
“You guys FUCKED!” she shouts.
People around the mess hall turn to stare.
“Ellie,” Joel hisses, his head whipping toward her.
“Sorry, sorry,” she says in a quieter voice, the rest of the room returning to eating. “I knew it! It’s about fucking time! So when are you getting married?” She’s looking between the two of you. “You know, I’ve always wanted a mom! And a brother! I’ll settle for a sister, though. Is she moving in with us, Joel?” She’s staring at him expectantly with a grin.
Joel’s face is bright red. “I’m gettin’ the fuckin’ fork,” he grumbles as he gets up from his seat.
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