Whiskey Bent and Heaven Bound
pairing: dbf!joel miller x fem!reader
Summary: She’s been riding his nerves for years, but when she waltzes into his bar in that little dress, pushing every damn button, Joel’s patience snaps. One jealous glare, one bar fight, and one heated moment against his truck later—he’s finally got his hands on the one thing he was never supposed to have. She may be forbidden, but tonight, she’s his to break.
Warnings: 18+ afab and fem reader, p in v sex, dbf fic, unspecified age gap, no description of reader but has big boobs and ass, dirty talk, no use of y/n, unsafe sex, oral (f! receiving), creampie, degradation, praise kink.
Word count: 3.5k
Joel Miller had never been a patient man.
Life had never given him the luxury of it. He had worked with his hands since he was young, learned early on that the world didn’t give second chances. He was a man of discipline, a man who knew how to keep his head down and his wants buried.
But she was making it damn near impossible.
She had been a teenager the first time he met her, trailing after her father, all wide eyes and laughter, running barefoot in the summer heat. He had watched her grow up, watched her turn into the kind of woman who could bring a man to his knees.
And now, she was back.
Older. Smarter. Dangerous.
She had always been off-limits. The daughter of his best friend, the one woman in the world he had no right to want. But she was making it impossible not to want her.
It had been easy to tease him, to poke at that ironclad patience of his and see ifshe could get a reaction. A lingering touch here, a too-sweet smile there. Watching the way his jaw clenched every time she called him Mr. Miller in that honeyed voice just to watch his ears turn red.
But no matter how much she pushed, Joel never broke.
Miller’s was packed, bodies moving, voices loud, music twanging through the air.
Joel had been behind the bar all night, pouring drinks, barely listening to the conversations around him. He had been doing a good job of keeping his mind on work, on anything but her.
Until she walked in.
The air seemed to shift, a pull in his gut that made his grip tighten around the glass in his hand.
And then he saw her.
That pretty little dress clung to her, the hem swaying just high enough to make his throat go dry. The cowboy boots only made it worse, giving her the perfect mix of sweet and wild, like she belonged there, like she wasn’t trying at all.
Except he knew she was. She knew exactly what she was doing.
Her gaze found his across the room, and a slow smile curved her lips.
His gaze dragged over her, slow and deliberate, before snapping back up to her face. He looked pissed.
Good.
Smiling to herself, she let her friends pull her toward the bar, where Joel was still watching, still brooding. She leaned against the counter, resting her elbows on the wood, waiting for him to say something.
He didn’t.
Instead, he grabbed a glass and poured her a drink, sliding it across the bar without a word.
“Not gonna say hello?” she teased.
Joel kept his gaze on the glass in her hands. “You ain’t supposed to be in here.”
She tilted her head. “Since when?”
“Since you started struttin’ around like you want trouble.”
She let out a soft hum, dragging her fingers along the rim of the glass he had just poured for her. “Maybe I do.”
Joel’s jaw tightened.
She was doing it again—pushing, testing, seeing how far she could go before he snapped.
“Not tonight,” he muttered.
“Not tonight what?”
His jaw clenched even harder, his teeth grinding.
She leaned in just a little, voice soft, sweet, coaxing. “You don’t like my dress, Mr. Miller?”
Joel exhaled sharply. “You think this is a game?”
Her lips twitched, like she was trying not to grin. Joel had to look away before he did something stupid, something reckless.
Like pull her across the damn bar and show her exactly how much he liked that dress.
The night carried on, the bar growing louder as the drinks flowed. She was laughing with her friends, sipping her whiskey slow, when she felt it—
A hand.
Not Joel’s.
Rough fingers slid along her lower back, dipping too low, too familiar. She tensed, turning sharply to find a man standing too close, grinning like he had a right to touch her.
“Hey there, sweetheart,” he slurred, breath heavy with beer.
She moved to step back, but he caught her wrist, holding on just tight enough to make her stomach twist.
“Let go,” She said, voice cool.
He laughed. “Aw, don’t be like that.”
Then, all at once, he was gone.
Yanked back so hard he stumbled, nearly falling on his ass.
Joel.
He was furious.
She had never seen him like this, not even when he was arguing with her dad about football scores or fixing some busted-up truck in the heat of summer. This was different.
Dangerous.
His hand was wrapped around the man’s wrist, squeezing so tight she could see the strain in his forearm.
“I told you,” Joel said, voice low, steady, lethal. “Get your goddamn hands off her.”
The man tried to laugh it off, but Joel yanked him forward just enough to make his breath hitch.
“You touch her again, I will break your fuckin’ hand.”
Dead silence.
The man swallowed, eyes darting around the room, looking for anyone who might step in. But no one did.
They knew better than to cross Joel Miller.
He let go, shoving the guy backward. “Get the hell out of my bar.”
The man didn’t hesitate.
Didn’t even look at her again. Just turned and left, tail tucked between his legs. And then Joel turned to her.
“Outside. Now.”
"Lets go," he barked, his voice cutting through the cacophony of the bar like a knife. The other men gathered around her table with protested, but Joel's icy glare sent them retreating faster than a coyote with its tail between its legs. She was still taken aback by his sudden aggression, but didn't struggle as he practically dragged her out of the bar and to his truck.
He didn’t stop until they reached his truck, the metal cool against her back as he crowded into her space.
“What the hell were you thinkin’?” he growled.
Her pulse was racing, but she forced herself to hold his gaze. “I wasn’t doin’ anything.”
Joel exhaled sharply, his hands braced against the truck on either side of her. His body was close, heat rolling off him in waves.
“You been runnin’ me in circles since you got back,” he muttered. “Wearin’ these little dresses, givin’ me that damn smile, callin’ me—”
She licked her lips, voice soft. “Mr. Miller?”
Joel groaned. His fingers flexed against the truck, like he was fighting every instinct in his body to keep from touching her.
“You don’t know what you’re doin’, girl.”
She tilted her head, her lips a breath away from his. “What if I do?”
Silence.
Thick, heavy, charged.
Joel’s hand came up before he could stop himself, rough fingers tracing the line of her jaw, tilting her face up. His thumb brushed over her bottom lip, slow and deliberate.
Her breath hitched.
“Joel—”
He kissed her. It was desperate, all fire and hunger, years of restraint snapping like a damn rope pulled too tight.
His hands slid to her waist, pulling her flush against him, pressing her against the truck. She gasped against his lips, and he took advantage of it, deepening the kiss, claiming her.
Her hands fisted in his shirt, tugging him closer, like she wanted to crawl inside him, like she had been waiting for this just as long as he had.
Joel lifted her onto the edge of the tailgate, his grip firm on her thighs. Her dress rode up, exposing soft, smooth skin against the rough denim of his jeans.
He pulled back just enough to look at her, breathing ragged.
“You sure about this?”
She didn’t hesitate. She grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him back in. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”
Joel groaned, resting his forehead against hers. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”
She smiled, breathless. “Then at least you’ll die happy.”
His control shattered.
He kissed her again, deeper, hungrier, and this time, he didn’t stop.
He opened the door of his truck and threw her into the backseat, the leather cool against her bare skin. He didn't bother with pleasantries or explanations; he knew she was playing with fire, and it was high time she felt the burn. His eyes raked over her, taking in every curve and freckle that made her uniquely her. She met his gaze, a mix of defiance and curiosity in her own eyes. He leaned in, his breath hot against her neck, and whispered, "You've been asking for this all night, darlin'."
Her heart raced as he climbed in beside her, the weight of his body pressing her into the seat. The smell of his cologne, leather, and something uniquely Joel filled the small space, making her head spin. His rough hands began to roam, tracing the lines of her body as if they were an ancient map, each touch setting her skin alight. Her own hands found his beard, and she pulled his face closer, feeling the prickle against her cheek. His lips claimed hers in a kiss that was as fierce as it was possessive. She could feel his hunger, his need to claim her as his own.
He pulled away, his eyes dark with lust, and grabbed his hat from the front seat. "Wear it," he grunted, placing it on her head. The brim shadowed her face, making her feel a mix of excitement and naughtiness. He took a moment to appreciate the sight of her in his cowboy hat, a stark contrast to the bratty persona she had been putting on all night. She bit her bottom lip, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
With surprising gentleness, Joel pulled her shirt over her head, revealing her ample breasts that bounced free, the cool air making her nipples tighten into delicious little buds. He took one in his mouth, teasing it with his tongue, while his hands found there way under her dress, tracing her soft thighs. She gasped, arching her back, the fabric of the hat brushing against her neck as she reached for him. Her hands roamed over his muscular chest, feeling the strength beneath.
Her own dress was quickly discarded, leaving her in just her lacy panties. He groaned, taking in the sight of her. His own desire was evident, pressing against the fabric of his jeans, but he took his time, savoring the moment. He reached down and slid her panties off, tossing them aside. "You're going to be the death of me," he murmured against her skin as he kissed his way down her body.
He settled between her legs, his breath hot against the sensitive flesh of her inner thighs. He took a moment to appreciate the sight before him, her pussy glistening with want. "So sweet," he whispered, his voice gruff with desire. He dipped his head and licked her, a long, slow stroke that made her moan. She was already close, her body tightening with every flick of his tongue. He chuckled darkly, the sound sending vibrations through her. "You're eager, aren't you?"
Joel didn't wait for an answer; he feasted on her, his tongue delving into her depths, lapping up her sweetness. She squirmed beneath him, her hands grabbing fistfuls of his hair as she pushed herself closer to his mouth. "You taste like heaven," he murmured, his breath tickling her clit. His hands gripped her thighs, holding her in place as he worked her over with his mouth, his teeth grazing her sensitive skin.
The tension built, coiling tighter and tighter within her until she couldn't take it anymore. She shuddered, her orgasm ripping through her like a tornado, leaving her panting and trembling in its wake. He looked up at her, a smug smile playing on his lips, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Good girl," he praised, his voice thick with lust. "Now, you've been teasing me for so long, let's see if you can handle the real deal."
With a swiftness that belied his size, Joel stripped off his clothes, his muscles rippling in the dim light of the truck's cabin. He was a vision of raw masculinity, a stark contrast to the gentle care he had taken with her moments before. He grabbed her, pulling her onto his lap so that she straddled him, his erection pressing against her soaked pussy. "Ride me," he ordered, his voice low and commanding. She didn't hesitate, sliding down onto him, feeling him fill her completely.
Her gasp was music to his ears, and he watched as she adjusted to his size, her eyes fluttering closed as she began to move. Joel's hands found her hips, guiding her movements, his thumbs tracing lazy circles on her skin. "Look at me," he said, his voice a gruff whisper. She obeyed, her eyes locking with his, and he could see the trust, the need, the desire all swirling together in their depths.
He leaned back against the seat, watching her ride him with a fierce determination that sent bolts of pleasure through his body. The hat sat askew on her head, her hair a wild mess around her face, and she had never looked more beautiful. His grip tightened on her hips, urging her to go faster, deeper. "Take what you want from me, darlin'. Show me what you've been hiding from me all these years."
Her movements grew more frantic, her breasts bouncing with every bounce, her moans filling the space around them. Joel could feel his own climax building, the base of his spine tingling with the promise of release. He leaned forward, capturing one of her nipples between his teeth, giving it a gentle bite that made her gasp and ride him harder. "That's it," he murmured, his voice a dark rumble in his chest. "You're going to make me come sweet girl."
The words seemed to spur her on, and she began to grind down on him with a fervor that was almost animalistic. Her nails dug into his shoulders, leaving little half-moons that would likely bruise by morning. But Joel didn't care. All he could focus on was the exquisite pleasure she was giving him, the way her pussy clenched around his cock with every movement she made. He knew he wouldn't last much longer.
With a growl, he flipped their positions, her back now pressed against the cool leather of the seat. He was relentless, pumping into her with a force that made the truck rock slightly. His hands found her breasts again, kneading them roughly as he claimed her mouth in another bruising kiss. She could feel his dominance, his need to possess her, and it only made her wetter.
Joel's hand slipped down between them, his calloused fingers finding her clit. He began to rub it in time with his thrusts, the sensation sending sparks of pleasure shooting through her body. She moaned into his mouth, her nails now digging into his back, her body begging for more. "Cum for me," he murmured, his voice a dark promise in her ear. "I want to feel you come all over my cock."
Her walls tightened around him, and she knew she couldn't hold out much longer. With a cry, she shattered, her orgasm tearing through her like a wildfire, consuming every part of her being. Joel followed her over the edge, his own release hot and powerful as he buried himself deep within her. They stayed there, locked together, for several long moments, their breathing the only sound in the quiet parking lot.
When he finally pulled out, she could feel the emptiness he left behind, both physically and emotionally. He didn't say a word as he tucked himself back into his pants, his movements efficient and practiced. She watched him, her chest heaving, the hat still perched on her head. It felt strange now, a symbol of what had just transpired between them.
Joel reached for a pack of cigarettes from the dashboard, lighting one up with a shaky hand. He took a long drag, the tip glowing red in the darkness before he turned to her. "You know, you've been playing a dangerous game," he said, his voice a low rumble. "You can't just tease a man like that and not expect consequences."
She sat up, her breath still coming in ragged gasps, the hat slipping slightly on her head. "I know," she whispered, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. "But you liked it, didn't you?"
Joel's expression was unreadable, his eyes hooded as he took another drag of his cigarette. He beckoned her closer with a crook of his finger, his voice a soft rumble. "Come here, darlin'." She complied, sliding over to him, the leather of the seat sticking slightly to her skin. He pulled her into his arms, holding her close, the hat still perched on her head.
The warmth of his embrace was a stark contrast to the coolness of the night air that had seeped into the truck. His heart thudded against her ear, a steady rhythm that seemed to echo the beat of her own. He inhaled deeply, breathing in her scent, a mix of sweetness and sex that was uniquely hers. "You know your daddy's going to kill me if he ever finds out about this," he murmured, his breath hot against her skin.
She giggled, the sound a little shaky, and snuggled closer to him. "Don't worry," she whispered, "I won't tell." Her fingers traced lazy patterns on his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heart beneath her touch. The gravity of their situation settled on her, the reality of what they had just done heavy in the air between them.
"You're mine now," Joel said, his voice gruff but not unkind. "All those pretty dresses you wear, all for me to peel off." He reached down and picked up her discarded panties, holding them up with a smirk. "And these," he added, tucking them into his pocket, "are mine now."
She looked up at him, the hat tilting slightly to the side. "What are you saying?" she asked, her voice a mix of surprise and excitement.
"I'm saying," Joel began, his eyes dark and intense, "that from now on, every time you wear those little dresses that drive me wild, it's my cock you're thinking about. Every time you spread your legs for anyone else, you're going to remember whose cock you really want." He took another drag of his cigarette, his gaze never leaving hers. "And when I say no one else gets to taste you, darlin', I mean it."
Her heart fluttered at his possessive words, a thrill of fear and excitement racing through her veins. "But, Joel, my dad—"
"I don't care about your daddy," he cut her off, his voice firm. "You're mine, and I'm not sharing." His eyes bore into hers, leaving no room for argument. "You'll wear those dresses, keep 'em guessing, but they'll never know what's hidden beneath. They won't get to taste what's mine."
He took her hand and placed it over his heart, the steady beat beneath his palm a declaration of his ownership. "You're not just a pretty face in a short dress anymore. You're mine to protect, mine to cherish, mine to fuck." He leaned in, his breath a warm caress on her neck. "And when you wear that hat," his voice grew gruffer, "you're riding the cowboy."
Her cheeks flushed with a mix of excitement and trepidation. The weight of his words was intoxicating, a heady blend of fear and desire that had her knees trembling. She knew the rules had changed, the line she'd been toeing all night had been crossed, and there was no turning back. "I won't let anyone else have me, I'm yours," she murmured, her voice a soft promise that seemed to vibrate through him.
Joel's grip on her tightened, his eyes never leaving hers. "You'd better not," he warned, his tone playful yet laced with a hint of seriousness that made her stomach flip. He leaned in and kissed her again, a kiss that spoke of ownership and passion. His hand found her bare thigh, his thumb stroking the sensitive skin, sending waves of pleasure through her body. "Every time you wear one of those dresses, I'll know that underneath, you'll be dripping full of me, my cum will make sure it says 'property of Joel Miller.'"
The thought made her blush, but she didn't pull away. Instead, she leaned into his touch, her hand sliding down to his crotch, feeling him harden again. "Only for you," she murmured, her voice a siren's call in the quiet night.
He groaned, his hand coming up to cup her face, his thumb brushing over her bottom lip. "Good girl," he praised, his voice thick with lust. "Now, let's get you dressed and back inside before anyone starts asking questions." He helped her into her clothes, his movements almost tender. As she adjusted her dress she couldn't help but feel a twinge of regret, knowing that she'd be giving up the thrill of the chase. But the look in Joel's eyes told her that the real fun was just beginning.
