Description: When Clark gets poisoned with sex pollen, he tries everything in his power to stay away from you. Until he ends up crashing into your living room, and you have a god on his knees, with your name in his mouth and your body at his will.
Tags/warnings: smut, established relationship, clark is sorry, he gets freaky with his powers, consent kink, breaks you and worships you at the same time, begging, praising, hovering (yes hovering👀), so much dirty talk (he’s feral but sweet), overstimulation.
Note: Guess who watched superman today and got a new man to obsess about🙂↕️ honestly I don’t even know what took over me when I wrote this but all I can say is go ahead, live your best life and enjoy the sweet filth 🫶🏼
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You wake up with a loud crash coming from your living room. You jolt upright from your bed as you hear glass shatter, sprinting toward the noise. You curse as your body, only covered by Clark’s giant shirt, gets hit with the crisp midnight air as wind gushed through your apartment like a hurricane just passed by.
A figure stood where your glass door used to be, leaning weakly on what was left of the frame. You turned on the lamp next to you, illuminating your boyfriend’s stumbling body.
“Clark!?” you exclaim, confused by his abrupt arrival.
He doesn’t look up, just stands there against the frame, chest heaving, fists clenched. Like he is barely holding himself together.
Worry washes your features, something must be really wrong. You start making way over to him, but as soon as you take a step forward he puts a warning hand in front of him.
“Stop! Don’t move,” his deep voice comes out strangled, like he’s been screaming for hours. “Don’t come closer… please. Just–just stay there.”
He keeps his hand up to stop you, panting heavily as he swallowed to try to soothe his dry throat. He slowly looks up, and groans when he meets your eyes. His pupils are blown wide, dry lips parted, his breath ragged like he’s been flying across the globe. His usually perfect wavy hair is now flat, messy, sticking to his sweaty forehead.
“I didn’t want to come here,” he whines. “I–I didn’t want you to see me like this.”
“What happened to you?” You ask from your spot, fighting the urge to run to his aid.
“I’ve been infected,” he chokes out, and your brows furrow more. “Some kind of … alien pollen. It hit me out there. I flew straight into it and fuck ... It’s messing with my head, my body, I…”
He suddenly turns away, pacing in small frantic circles on your balcony like he’s trying to shake something off. His hands tremble as he fights to not make eye contact, like just looking at you hurts.
“What do you need? D-do you have the antidote?” You ask, scared as hell. He never acts like this.
He just shakes his head first with a bitter laugh, only to nod frantically afterwards.
God, if only you knew.
“I tried to wait it out,” he groans, fists now in his hair. “I swear I did, my love, I locked myself away for hours … tried to fly as far as I could but I kept turning back because I could smell you.”
Your breath catches in your throat, somehow understanding what this was about.
“I can smell you, sweetheart. Even from across the city … I can hear you breathing … your heartbeat. I didn’t want to hurt you but right now I have you in front of me and I can see–dammit … I’m sorry–“
He stumbles backward like he’s ashamed of himself, like he can’t even look at you.
“You know can’t turn it off,” he whispers. “I never mean to look, I swear, but I can see you now. Everything.”
Of course you know what he means. You know he can see right past his giant shirt covering your body. And the guilt on his face is gutting. He looks like he’s trying to claw his own powers out of his skin.
“Clark… it’s okay. You don’t have to explain, ”you step forward, slowly, gently. “It’s not like we haven’t–“
“No you don’t get it!” He snaps, his voice booming through your walls so loud you were sure everyone on the block heard him. He instantly feels worse with the way you flinched to his volume. “S-sorry darling … you just don’t get it … you have no idea what it’s like to smell you and know how soft you are, how warm. My instincts are going crazy. I just need to be inside you … I need to touch you, mark you, fill you up until I can’t think straight,” he just rambles, eyes raking through your body.
You take a deep breath, his words making you clench your thighs together and he noticed. Of course you’ve had sex before. You know what he sounds like when he’s needy. But this? This is feral. You’ve never seen him like this.
But you’re willing to do anything to help him. Always.
“Clark… you don’t even have to ask,” you speak softly, your own eyes darkening with desire.
He shakes his head. You don’t even understand the amount of restraint he’s having right now.
“I do … I always do. Especially now. Because I’m not going to touch you like I should. I’m not going to make it about you. I’m going to use you. Because you’re the only one who can fix me … you are the antidote and I hate it. I hate that I can’t even think straight unless I’m inside you … I need you so bad, darling, I’m shaking–“ He cries, an actual tear comes out his desperate eyes.
You’re watching a god fall apart in front of you.
Because of you.
You finally cross the space left, and he doesn’t stop you this time. You grab his face between your hands, and kiss him without hesitation. His arms immediately cling to your frame, cold hands slipping under your shirt to roam every inch of your warm skin.
You moan into his lips, when you taste the salty tears on his face. His hands land on your ass, and he squeezes hard, bruising, making you squeal. He immediately pulls back, apologizing. Like he still can’t let himself go.
“I love you, I’m sorry–” he blurts out immediately, hands soothing the skin he pinched while he fought the urge to do it again, harder. “God I love you … and I would never hurt you. Never. I swore I’d never touch you like this. Unless you asked me to. Unless you wanted me to. So please … tell me you want this too. Say yes, or I’ll leave. I swear I will.”
He nods, frantically, like he’s trying to convince himself more than he’s trying to convince you.
“I’ll leave if you tell me to,” he breathes. “I’ll fly through a mountain. I’ll bury myself in the ocean. Just don’t say yes unless you want this. I’m barely holding on– if you say it, I won’t be able to stop.”
You want him. God you always want him.
The way he keeps asking makes you want him even more. Even if he’s not your Clark now. Even if he won’t take care of you like he always does. Even if you can’t breathe or move after. Because you love him too.
“I want it,” you whisper against his lips, nodding. “I want you. You need me? Use me. Take all you want … I can take it.”
It’s over.
The moment you say yes there’s no going back. He lunges forward, tightening his grip on you as he lifts you off the ground to fly you towards the wall, knocking the lamp when your back hit the wall, leaving you both in complete darkness. Only the moonlight left to shine over his hungry eyes.
His massive hand cradles the back of your head to protect it from the hit, while the other tears off your shirt like he needs your skin on his or he’ll die. Your panties don’t even last two seconds before they fly away too.
His lips hit yours. Tongue desperate, hands everywhere, so large, so shaky, everywhere at once. He groans into your mouth like a man dying of thirst finally tasting water.
“Thank you,” he gasps between kisses. “Thank you sweetheart … I’m so sorry I can’t help you first … but I need you … I need to feel you inside, please just let me…”
He knows it hurts you when he doesn’t prepare you properly, when he doesn’t make you cum at least twice on his fingers before he fucks you …but he can’t right now. Not when he can smell how soaked you are already, not when he swears it’s dripping on the carpet.
“Do it,” you pant, hungry for him. “Clark just do it … please.”
He doubts only for a second, and then without thinking he rips the suit. Literally tears it at the waist, tugging it to get rid of it completely. He’ll care about that later.
Right now he is just muscle in front of you.
His painful cock springs up, and he presses himself to you with a wet slap, your back hitting the wall again. Your pussy throbs at how impossibly huge he is over your stomach.
You’ve had him before. You’ve barely made it. You still want him to rearrange your guts.
“Feel that?” he groans. “That’s what you do to me, that’s what’s been driving me insane all day, darling.”
He’s not even pretending anymore, his cock is throbbing, massive, already leaking. He aligns himself between your soaked folds, rutting the tip against your pussy a few times like he’s lost control of his body entirely. You moan at the friction. Every nerve ending screaming.
You know he’s gonna wreck you. You weren’t ready. But at the same time you’ve never been more ready.
He grabs your thigh and lifts it against the wall, before whispering against your lips. “I’m sorry…”
He pushes his hips forward, and when he finally slides home with a snap … raw, hard, you let out a strangled scream.
One long, broken sound, high pitched and helpless, because he stretches you brutally, all at once, bottoming out with a growl. An actual growl. Like he finally felt some type of relief since he got hit with the pollen.
You fight back a cry, lunging forward to bite his shoulder. He starts fucking you into the wall as he whispers ‘I love you’ ‘thank you’ ‘sorry’ like some sort of chant. Like it’s the only thing keeping him rooted to the version of him that is still careful with you when you have sex.
Your breath leaves you in a gasp, your bare back against the cold plaster, legs around his waist, and arms clinging to his biceps for dear life. All you can do is moan as you get adjusted to his unfairly thick cock slamming in and out of you.
“Just like that … you’re taking me so well,” he pants. “You can do it, sweetheart … you’re doing so good … fuck, you were made for this … made for me.”
His hands grip your thighs. He fucks you like he’s possessed, no rhythm, no thought into it, just deep, hard thrusts that hit something devastating every time, shaking the wall with every slam of his hips.
And the whole time, he keeps whimpering into your neck.
“I love you … I’m sorry … I love you …I’m gonna ruin you …I need it…”
You think you’re about to white out when the room starts moving, but you quickly realize what’s happening.
He’s lifting your bodies off the ground.
Still fucking you.
Going up as much as your ceiling allowed him too. He pins you high on the wall when his head touches the roof, like gravity doesn’t apply anymore. It never does, not to you, not to him.
So now you’re fucking hovering. Literally. Unable to do anything but take it.
And you feel him like never before. A complete moaning mess. Nails dragging down his back, mouth open in shock as you look down to the floor. Your whole body is a live wire, and he’s fucking you like it’s the only thing keeping him alive.
His cock twitches inside you. He’s already close. Has been since he walked through that window. But he’s holding it, fighting it, because he needs to stay inside. Needs to keep taking. You can’t.
“Fuck Clark … I’m gonna–“
“Yes? do it … darling please, you’re doing so well. I’ve got you … cum all over this cock baby I got you.”
Your body breaks before you can breathe. Your first climax of the night hits hard, clenching down on him, while you pant into his chest. Your whole body goes limp and he feels it.
He fucks you through it. Rough thrusts with his hand stroking your back and the other wrapped under your thighs. He keeps thanking you as his cock splits you open over and over.
“I wanna give you everything,” he groans, voice cracking. “Fill you up, stuff you full of me … Can I? Please? Let me finish inside you …. let me have you–“
“Yes, yes, fill me up,” you blurt out, still seeing stars.
He slams in once more and chokes, hips locked, whole body shuddering as he comes with a moan so broken it feels like it came from his soul. He shakes as he fills you, mouth pressed to your neck.
He doesn’t pull out yet. He holds you there, trembling, pressed against the wall like he knows you’ll fall if he loosens his grip.
Even after the first wave passes, after the groans, the shaking, the desperate I love you’s, he holds you like you’re the only thing anchoring him to this planet.
“…Are you okay?”
You just nod, breathless, a blissed out smile in your face. He smiles too. And then, slowly, he lowers you back down to the floor.
But he’s not soft for long. He doesn’t even give you a minute to recover. He can’t. The second round starts before the first one even finishes sinking in.
You’re still trembling in his arms, leaking down your thighs, whimpering his name into the crook of his neck. And he’s still inside you. Still painfully hard.
Still needing you.
“One more, please. Just–just one more,” he begs. “Let me have you again. Please, darling I need it.”
“Take it Clark, take all you need,” you nod, absolutely wrecked.
But what’s a few more rounds with your unearthly strong boyfriend?
He melts.
You usually go multiple rounds, but he’s softer, he gives you downtime, even brings you water in between orgasms. But right now he can’t believe the way he fucked you and you still let him have more. But he needs more. The pollen is fogging his brain.
He finally pulls out, just to set you down on the floor. The second your back hits the rug, he’s on top of you again. And god he’s heavy. Solid. He doesn’t even hold his weight like he usually does because all he’s thinking about is fucking you senseless.
He buries himself deep again, groaning, cursing under his breath. You close your eyes, nails digging the carpet, back arching when you feel him deeper from this angle. You pant small whines from the feeling.
“Shhh … don’t–“ he coos, he wants to be slow, but he can’t. His hips snap hard without even thinking. “You’re doing so good, sweetheart … so good for me… just need one more.”
You know it’s not just one more. And he fucking knows that too.
None of you cares.
“You’re so wet … so perfect” he groans, the filthy sound gushing loudly every time he thrusted. “I didn’t even give you time to come down … didn’t even let you breathe and you still take me so well”
He praises. Worships. He looks down to where your bodies meet, and he sees right through your skin. He can see his huge cock filling you with every thrust. He can see your walls clenching around him. And he looses it.
You’re suddenly running out of air when he presses his chest to yours, pining you tighter to the floor with his body as he pushes harder. And you feel all of him. The broadness of his chest against your ribs. The strain of his thighs bracketing yours. His cock still buried deep, rock hard.
You hit his bicep with your hand first, but he’s not paying attention, he’s too caught up on the way your pussy takes him to notice.
It’s not smooth. Not rhythmic. Just sharp, ragged thrusts that hit you so hard your body jerks on impact, tits bouncing, nails clawing at his back as he crushes you into the floor with every rut of his hips.
Your head starts spinning.
“Clark,” you choke out, hitting his bicep again. “I can’t–can’t breathe…”
His head finally snaps at you, eyes going wide. He lifts up a bit, but he doesn’t pull out, he just … can’t.
You finally gasp for air as he shushes you softly, tucking away the hair sticking to your sweaty forehead.
“I’m sorry … I can’t … can’t stop. I tried, I swear I tried,” his forehead presses to yours, without crushing you alive this time.
His hips don’t stop moving. You pant between moans. You’re close again, you can feel it.
“It’s okay, you’re just … you’re so big …so heavy.”
“I’m sorry,” he breathes. “I’m sorry, I know. I just … I don’t want to let you go–”
“Don’t,” you whisper. “Don’t let me go.”
His expression breaks. Because he knows. And you know. He’s not really letting you go. Not all the way. He’s still pressing his weight into you, even as he tries not to. Because he needs to. Because letting go means losing you, even just for a second.
He doesn’t know what takes over him, he grabs your hands and pins them above your head. Watching you sob, moan, eyes rolling back, skin already bruising in multiple places by his grip. He’s not like this. He should be apologizing. Begging. But you just feel so damn good.
And you like it, god you love it.
“I–I love it when you fuck me like this,” you confess, voice barely above a whisper, dumb smile on your face as he hits that spot repeatedly. “I just- I can’t…”
“I know darling, I know … just a little more,” he groans. “One more please. You can take it …you’re doing so good.” He soothes, but he can’t slow down, not when you’re clenching him like that.
He picks up the pace.
“C-Clark … please, I’m gonna-“
“I’ve got you, darling …I’ve got you, let yourself go for me.”
You see white this time. You’re not even moaning anymore. Just gasping. Twitching. Letting him take what he needs because you want to. Because this is Clark, your Clark, and you’d give him your whole body a thousand times if he needed it.
And he does.
He fucks you like you’re his last breath.
Even after you’re wrecked, limp, twitching … he keeps going.
You don’t even remember the next time he finishes. Or the time after that. Or where it happened. Your body is a mess, trembling and raw and wet and full. Marked. Praised.
All while he keeps saying, “Just one more … just let me stay inside you a little longer… please sweetheart, I’m still hard I know you can take it … this is the last time I promise…”
Again and again. You’ve never heard him lie so much before.
Yet still, with your hair splayed, legs shaking, literal tears leaking from the corners of your eyes from the pleasure, the pain, the strain, the goddamn pollen he pumps into your body every time he comes…
You are having the time of your life being drunk on his cock.
“Fuck me harder.”
You beg, even when you can’t feel it anymore. Maybe that’s why you need it harder … deeper.
And because you knew that once he came back to normal he wouldn’t fuck you like this again. And he makes sure to let you know.
“I’m sorry… I’m sorry I’m hurting you. I just need you so fucking much … I love you I love you I love you—”
You just nod, because it hurts embarrassingly good.
You lose count of how many times he comes in total. How many times you come. You only know time’s passed when the sky starts to lighten outside your broken window, and Clark is rocking into you so slowly it’s more like he’s just holding you in place, his mouth pressed to your shoulder, whispering thank you with every lazy thrust.
By the time he finally slows down, finally wears the substance out of his body after dumping it all inside you … you can’t move. You’re limp in his arms, boneless and dripping and his.
Your bed feels incredibly soft in contrast to all the spots he fucked you on last night.
You’re draped across his chest, tracing the muscles under his bare skin. His fingers are in your hair. Barely moving, just tracing small patterns. Soothing you like he didn’t cause all the pain in your body.
You’re still trembling a little. Just from… after. Your body’s still echoing with everything he gave you. Everything he took.
Worth it.
Clark kisses your temple. He hasn’t stopped kissing you every few minutes. It’s like he’s trying to apologize without saying it. Like he’s trying to prove that he’s still the man you love, the man who flinches when he bumps your head by accident, who picks you flowers and gets flustered when you kiss him in public. The one who always put you first in bed.
Not the one who just broke the sound barrier flying to your apartment because his cock told him to.
“…I broke your window,” he finally breaks the silence, a chuckle makes his chest vibrate against your ear.
“Clark … you broke a lot more than my window.”
You both start giggling … glowing. Your throat hurts, you’re sore, probably can’t even walk today or the whole week, and somehow, it feels like the safest place on Earth.
“I love you,” he whispers. “So much.”
“I know,” you whisper back. “You said it like 87 times while destroying me.”
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I created a blog dedicated to Superman, where I’ll be posting my writing for him from now on 🫶🏼 so if you wanna check it out, go to -> @404superman
Feedback and sharing is always appreciated, thank you so much for reading <3
dr henry loomis is so cute ugh i want him to talk to me about different sub species of dinosaurs and all these facts but struggling to talk because im sucking him off and if he stops talking i stop so if he wants to cum he has to keep talking
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 4.5 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 6.5
Summary: The night began in chaos. After a tense, high-speed drive to the hospital, you labored through the night with Joel and Tommy at your side. Come morning, a surprise visitor appears at your door.
|| fluff, fmc is in labor, I am not a mom nor have I ever been in labor so please excuse my inaccuracies. ||
notes: mini chapter to ease some of the pain from p6!
Tommy’s white knuckles were only colored by the flashes of streetlights as he wove in and out of traffic like he was running from the law. The truck rumbled and swayed with every sharp lane change, his jaw clenched so tight it looked like it might crack.
Meanwhile, Joel sat stiff in the passenger seat, one hand gripping the dash, the other braced against the back of Tommy’s seat as he twisted to look at you again. You were stretched out in the backseat, one hand clutching the door handle, the other pressed firm over your belly.
“Breathe, baby. Just keep breathing,” he said, voice low, trying to keep calm for your sake. You nodded half-heartedly, but then another contraction hit, tearing a groan out of you so raw it made his heart drop.
He turned forward again, eyes flicking to the speedometer.
“Jesus Christ, Tommy,” Joel muttered, “you plannin’ to get us killed before we even hit the damn parking lot?”
Tommy didn’t look at him. Just kept staring down the road, jaw locked, foot iron heavy. “You wanna get there or not?”
“I’d prefer we get there in one fuckin’ piece.”
“Then quit distractin’ me and keep her focused.”
Joel made a frustrated noise under his breath, but he turned around anyway, checking on you again. You were trying to breathe through it, trying not to cry out, but it was clear you were barely holding on.
Tommy glanced up at the rearview. “You alright back there?”
You let out something that might’ve been an ‘uh-huh,’ but it cracked into a strangled whimper by the end. Joel reached for your hand that was on your swollen belly, covering it with his. “Almost there, sweetheart. You’re doin’ real good. Just hold on.”
“Almost?” Tommy barked, half-laughing, half-panicked. “We’re still fifteen goddamn minutes out and traffic’s backed up to hell.”
“Then maybe quit driving like it’s the Indy 500, might actually get there without flipping the truck,” Joel bit back.
“Oh, now you’re concerned about safety? After everything else you’ve done?”
Joel blinked, slow and sharp. “What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”
Tommy finally looked over, his eyes wild, his lip split and already starting to bruise. “Means maybe if you hadn’t stressed her out so bad, we wouldn’t be in this mess to begin with. You ever think about that? Stress-induced labor. Look it up.”
Joel’s lip curled, a bitter edge to his voice. “So now this is my fault?”
Tommy scoffed. “Sure as hell ain’t mine.”
Joel turned fully toward him now, his voice darkening. “You really wanna do this right now?”
“You’re the one who kept pushin’. Kept stirrin’ shit up between us. Came over drunk and reekin’ of the bar floor.”
“Oh, don’t start actin’ like you were some saint in all this.”
“I wasn’t the one—”
“Enough!” you cried suddenly, your voice cutting through the cab like a blade. Both men fell silent, eyes snapping to you.
You were hunched forward, teeth gritted, a fresh wave of pain pulling a sob from your chest. “Just—shut up. Both of you. This is no one’s fault. He’s jus-just early.” you tried to breathe, “So just get me to the fucking hospital.”
Joel immediately reached for you again, his voice softening like a switch flipped. “Alright. Alright, baby. You got it.”
Tommy swallowed hard and said nothing, just turned his eyes back to the road, white-knuckled all over again.
The hospital doors blew open. Bright fluorescent lights hit your eyes, too sharp after the darkness of the drive. Everything felt loud, voices layered on top of each other—nurses barking orders, the squeak of your shoes on tile, Tommy at the desk shouting at someone, Joel’s voice cutting through it all as he gripped your hand.
“Just breathe, baby,” he said, voice low and ragged. “You’re doing so good. Just breathe for me, alright?”
You didn’t remember the wheelchair. Only the sensation of motion, the floor rushing beneath you, the dizziness of being moved too fast when the world was already spinning. Joel was somewhere beside you, close and constant, Tommy on your other side.
It felt like you were underwater. The world narrowed to pain, pressure, the seizing of your body as another contraction stole the air from your lungs. You moaned low in your throat, teeth gritting as you folded in on yourself.
There were hands. One on your face, brushing sweat-drenched hair away. Another on your shoulder, grounding you. Joel’s hands, you thought. They were always there.
“You’re alright,” he whispered, “You’ve got this. Just keep breathing, sweetheart. That’s it. In… out…there you go.”
You didn’t even realize you were holding Tommy’s hand until he spoke beside you as they put you in the hospital bed.
“I’ve got you,” he said, tight and thick with emotion. “Gonna meet our boy soon, honey. C’mon now, you’re okay,”
You squeezed hard, unaware of the bruises you were probably leaving. Nurses kept glancing between the two men flanking you, but neither of them budged. They stayed close, with you, no matter what.
Everything blurred together. You were trying to breathe through it all, tears streaming from your eyes before you even felt them welling. You were too far gone to think. Time slipped away from you in uneven gasps and ragged sobs.
Push.
Someone said it. Maybe more than once.
You bore down, trembling, sobbing, the world going white around the edges.
Another push. Another cry torn from your throat.
You did. You had to. And then again. You pushed until it felt like your body might tear apart, until you were sobbing openly and clawing at Joel’s shirt, until Tommy’s hand was the only thing tethering you to the ground.
And after hours of breathing and pushing and crying, the pressure left your body all at once.
There was a beat of silence. Then a cry from below you—sharp, shrill, alive.
The entire room seemed to pause.
You slumped back against the bed, chest heaving, tears streaking hot down your cheeks. Joel’s laugh broke in your ear, breathless and choked. You turned your head toward the sound, only half-conscious.
Somewhere beyond the ringing in your ears, someone was saying something. Healthy, breathing, strong.
Someone brought the baby to you. Warm, wet, crying from being brought into a new world.
You let out a broken sob as they laid him on your chest, his tiny lungs howling against your skin. You didn’t even realize you were crying until Joel’s hand wiped at your cheek.
“There he is,” Joel murmured, wonder in his voice. “You did it. You did so good, baby.”
You could barely see him through the blur of tears, but when you did, he looked wrecked. His face was flushed and damp besides the redness of the hits he took, his eyes red-rimmed, his expression soft in a way you’d never seen before.
He pressed his hand gently over yours, helping you cradle the baby closer.
Tommy was still holding on too, his other hand on your shoulder now, but you weren’t looking at anyone. Just the tiny face nestled against you, mouth open in protest, fists trembling with life.
Everything else fell away. The pain, the noise, the bright lights and the blood. All of it quieted as you cried and cried, holding the little boy you’d waited so long to meet.
And through it all, neither of them let go.
The morning light poured softly through the blinds, golden and slow, as if the world outside had the courtesy to match the quiet stillness in the room. Nurses had come and gone. The monitors beeped a little less urgently now. Your body ached in places you hadn’t even known could ache.
Your baby slept against your chest, warm and impossibly small, his breath rising in slow, shallow waves. You shifted just enough to look down at him, your fingers brushing lightly over his soft cheek, then along the delicate curve of his ear. He didn’t stir. Just let out a tiny sigh, his lips parted slightly, pink and perfect.
You traced the bridge of his nose, the gentle slope of his brow, the faintest suggestion of lashes already curling against his skin. His skin was soft, like nothing you’d ever touched before—like velvet and milk and something too new for words. His tiny hand rested over your collarbone, his fingers curled in a loose fist, barely the size of your thumb.
You couldn’t stop staring.
This was him.
He was real.
And somehow, he was yours.
You were barely holding onto wakefulness when a knock sounded at the door. Not a nurse’s knock, but lighter. Almost hesitant.
Before anyone could answer, the door creaked open and a familiar voice cut through the sleepy hush.
“Hi.”
You blinked. Sarah stepped into the room, her backpack still slung over one shoulder, a cardigan half-buttoned over her school clothes. Her hair was pulled back in a messy braid, cheeks pink from the morning air.
Joel straightened where he’d been hovering near the window, like he couldn’t quite decide whether to sit or pace. “Sarah?”
“I called you,” she said, giving him a pointed look. “You texted you were coming to the hospital and then didn’t answer me. I caught the early bus.”
Joel’s mouth opened, then closed. “Right, shit. Sorry.”
She stepped over to Tommy first, wrapping him in a hug before he could say anything. “Congrats, Uncle Tommy,” she smiled, though her eyes flicked curiously between him and her dad. “You both look like hell. What happened to you two?”
Tommy gave a low laugh, rubbing a hand over his face. “Long story.”
“Very long,” Joel echoed, clearing his throat.
Sarah tilted her head, eyebrows raised, but didn’t press.
Then she turned and saw you, her expression shifting immediately and softening with wide-eyed awe. She stepped toward your bedside like she was approaching something sacred.
“Hi,” she said quietly.
“Hey,” you managed, your voice a little hoarse.
She leaned down and half-hugged you without jostling the baby. “He’s so beautiful,” she whispered, eyes going to the tiny bundle in your arms.
You nodded, emotion thick in your throat.
“Does he have a name?” she asked.
You glanced at Tommy beside you, then over at Joel who was standing near the window again, hands on his hips. “Still haven’t decided,” you admitted. “Though the nurse is gonna be back soon, demanding something official.”
You looked up at her then, “Do you want to hold him?”
Her eyes widened even further, “Are you…are you sure?”
You nodded, jerking your head lightly toward the armchair in the corner, “Go ahead n’ sit. Joel? Give me a hand?”
Sarah scurried to the armchair in the corner, all nervous energy and fidgeting hands. Wordlessly, Joel stepped over to you, his hands steady as they slid beneath the baby’s head, his fingers brushing against yours, warm and careful in their gentleness. He carried the baby over, crouched to explain how to hold her arms just so, and then settled the tiny bundle in Sarah’s lap. She curled her arms around him, her whole world narrowing to this single, impossible moment.
You watched as the room went still.
It wasn’t a heavy silence, not really. It’s warm. Full. Everyone seemed caught under the same spell. Sarah, her arms careful and sure around your son. Tommy, smiling in a way you hadn't seen him smile in a long time. Even you, wrapped in a quiet awe that made it hard to breathe.
But when you finally looked up, you caught Joel’s gaze—and he wasn’t looking at the baby.
He was looking at you.
Something passed through his eyes, something so unbearably soft it made your throat tighten. He looked… grateful. He looked haunted. Like he had a hundred things he wanted to say but knew this wasn't the time. So he just held your gaze for a long moment until, after a long beat, Tommy’s voice cut through, a little too loud in the hush.
“You eaten breakfast yet, kid?” he asked, glancing at Sarah.
She shook her head sheepishly, a small, guilty smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. Her fingers trailed across the hem of the blankets in her lap as she looked up at him, then down again.
Tommy grunted as he pushed up from his chair, dusting his palms over his jeans. “Think the cafeteria’s open by now. C’mon. I’ll take ya.”
Sarah carefully handed the baby back toward Joel. He moved without hesitation, cradling the newborn in his arms like he was something precious. Something he still couldn't quite believe he was allowed to touch.
You watched Tommy and Sarah walk toward the door, her voice a soft murmur you couldn’t catch. Tommy paused, glancing back over his shoulder at you as he held it open for her. His eyes held steady on yours. “We’ll be back,” he promised.
You nodded and they slipped out into the hallway.
The door swung shut with a soft click, and the room was left in that stillness again. Morning light stretched long across the bed, brushing over your bed sheets and Joel’s boots where he stood.
He made his way back over, slow and cautious, his eyes never leaving the baby’s face. That quiet awe was still there, softening the hard lines of his features. He didn’t speak as he approached, but you saw the way his gaze tracked every inch of the newborn like he was memorizing him. Like some part of him still believed this might not last. You just watched him. You watched the way the bruise on his cheek had darkened, the exhaustion in his eyes, the worn expression that had settled into his face like it belonged there. But it wasn’t just tiredness. There was something else just beneath the surface. Guilt. Uncertainty. The sharp edge of nerves that he hadn’t quite shaken.
No one had mentioned the fight from the night before. In the chaos of labor and everything that followed, no one had found the space to say it aloud. And you were grateful. Grateful that, for now, it could wait.
Joel leaned down and settled the newborn back against your chest, so careful and gentle in his movements. Once the baby was settled into your chest, Joel began to step back. Not…far, but enough to start retreating. You saw the way his eyes darted to the floor, his hands flexing open and closed like he didn’t know what to do with them now. The only sounds in the room were of the baby’s breathing filling the room, tiny little sighs that made something in your chest ache.
You reached for him. Your hand found his wrist, fingers brushing warm skin and wiry hair. He stilled under your touch, breath catching slightly. You let your hand trail upward, sliding along his forearm, anchoring him. You looked at his face, waiting to meet his eyes—but he wouldn’t look at you.
Still, he let you pull him in.
Joel knelt beside the bed, as if unsure whether he was allowed to come any closer, and your hand moved gently to cup his face. The scruff of his beard scratched against your palm as you laid your fingers along his jaw, and for a second, he just breathed.
“Look at him,” you murmured, your gaze never leaving Joel’s face. He followed your cue, looking down at the baby again. A long breath left him, his shoulders lowering, his brow drawing in as something in him buckled in him. Not broken, but loosened. Softened.
“Look what you gave me,” you said, “Gave us.”
You smiled faintly as your fingers slipped into his hair, stroking through it gently. He stayed quiet, breath shallow, eyes fixed on the tiny face resting against your chest. His mouth pressed into a thin line, and he shook his head almost imperceptibly, like he couldn’t believe any of this was real, let alone that he had a hand in it.
“Joel,” you whispered, and his eyes finally met yours.
“I love you too.”
His hands rose almost immediately, pressing against his forehead like he was trying to hold everything in, to steady something inside that was unraveling faster than he could control.
“I’m sorry,” he choked out. “I’m so damn sorry.”
You didn’t need to ask what for. You already knew.
He was sorry for the night before. For showing up drunk and aching and helpless. For not being able to hide his feelings anymore and for letting Tommy see all of it. For all the ways he had failed to keep his distance when he should have. For not being able to carry it in silence anymore.
You reached up again and threaded your fingers through his hair, slower this time, more deliberate. Your nails grazed lightly against his scalp, and you felt the tension bleed out of his shoulders as he leaned into it.
His eyes stayed shut, but he didn’t pull away.
“I know,” you murmured. “It’s okay. We’re going to figure it out. And…I’m sorry too. For pushing you away like I did. It wasn’t right.”
Joel didn’t say anything. But he heard you. You could see it in the way his eyes closed briefly, in the way his shoulders softened again. He didn’t brace this time. Didn’t tense like he expected to be pushed away. He just breathed, each inhale and exhale long and deep as he let himself stay right there with you.
But then his hands moved. Slowly, he reached up, his calloused hands rough and worn but so warm and careful as he took your hand from his hair. He pulled it down, cradling it in both of his hands like it was the most precious thing. His thumbs brushed over your knuckles for a moment, and then he brought your palm to his lips, and kissed into the center of it.
His beard tickled your sensitive skin, and his warm lips pressed gently into your palm, sending a quiet spark across your nerves. Goosebumps rose along your arms, not from surprise but from the sweetness of it. How he was so soft, so unhurried. There was nothing rushed or dramatic about the gesture, but it carried more weight than any words could have in that moment.
Your breath caught in your throat at the tenderness of it, and for a second, you just looked at him with his head bowed, your hand still held gently in his grasp, the baby breathing softly between you.
You let out a long, tired sigh. Not from frustration, but from relief. From the ache easing a little in your chest.
“Alright,” you said finally, voice light but a little hoarse as you tried to lighten your tone. “So what’re we naming this kid?”
Joel’s head lifted, his eyes catching yours. Still glassy. Still overwhelmed. But a ghost of a smile touched the corners of his mouth, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he didn’t look afraid.
wtf are we naming this baby
Jesse
TJ / JT (initials)
Sam or Henry
another Pedro character: Marcus, Ezra, Harry, etc)
t.w.: Dark-ish fic, Smut, Breeding/Pregnancy Kink, Pervy!Joel, Themes of cheating and infidelity, set in Jackson (after season 1), slight violence, Tommy! He's taking your wife!
a/n: Please read warnings for all of my works before reading. 18+ only!
Summary: You want a baby so bad you fail to realize how it might affect your marriage. Joel impresses with his skills as a father and you catch yourself imagining him in your husband’s stead.
Tommy had introduced you to Joel, he thought you two would get along well. He just didn't expect you to get along that well. The first time Joel had laid eyes on you his face brightened, he tipped his head down at you, shaking your hand for a second too long.
Then, Tommy wrapped his arms around your waist and Joel had swallowed so thickly his adams apple bobbed.
He was happy for his little brother, he had a partner. He had a safe home to live out the rest of his life if he wanted to. There was a whole community that cherished him. Depended on his knowledge.
Tommy had even shown him the ring he had found and later surprised you with in an abandoned shop, on a route you two would usually patrol.
He was happy for his little brother.
That was until you started popping up all the time. You’d knock at his door in the morning, asking him to accompany you to breakfast at the hall or the Tipsy Bison. You always asked Ellie too. But in those moments, as you leaned against the doorway with your arms crossed, in jeans that fit you perfectly and a gun holster at your hip, with a smug smile and a raised brow, he felt as if you were only speaking to him.
You wanted his company.
Joel had the urge to ask you if he could help around Jackson more, he's sure he could do what Tommy does, maybe even do it better. But since he's so new, they have him working around town, gauging his skill sets. You already knew he was destined to be a patrolman, maybe help with construction and expansion of the town in his free time.
You would see his similarities to Tommy, definitely. Respectful and yet demanding respect in return. Although you knew Tommy was capable of great violence, it seemed like Joel was more willing to submit to it.
His gruff and closed off personality served as a warning. He was warming up to the town though. You like to think you were a great help in that.
The clatter of plates and cutlery clang around the hall consistently. You pick at the eggs and sausage, chewing slowly and sipping from your mug of coffee as you listen to the conversations around you. Your mind was wandering.
Joel nudges your elbow resting on the table gently with his. You shrug and sigh.
"Tommy's busy in the mornings, either on patrol or helping build something."
He hums as a response, fighting the urge to bring mouthfuls of food into his mouth to eat it all quickly. Instead, he places his fork down and passes a hand over your shoulder empathetically.
“Well that’s… Tommy.” He struggles with finding the right words for people in need of emotional support. He’s more of a man of action. Of course, you would never expect to discuss negative details of your relationship to Joel. They were brothers.
His attempt did lighten up your mood though.
Ellie had no shame, she wasn't paying attention. You patted the back of her hand whenever you noticed her scarfing down her food.
"You'll get a stomachache, babe," you scold softly, a hint of a smile on your lips. Joel looked at you appreciatively when she slowed down. She never listens to him, unless it was serious. It seemed as if a gentler approach was needed. Something he didn't think he could provide either.
Ellie had just finished eating, so quickly you hadn't even finished your own plate. You watch as she drapes her coat over herself, practically bouncing with energy to meet up with her new friends. Joel's expression softens when he sees the way you stare at her, a knowing look on your face, an eyebrow raised.
"Be careful, don't go running around by the gates‐"
Ellie says nothing, pursing her lips and wincing as if she were ready to ask for leverage. Joel straightens up and gives her a pointed look. You were part of the council, along with Tommy. Technically, you had power to kick anyone out of the town. Everyone knew you would never do that.
Despite the friendliness, the authority stayed prominent in your role in town meetings, even among your council members, most notably with your husband.
Ellie sighs and responds in a bored tone. "I won't. Promise."
You hum, skeptical. You had seen her the other day, along with her group. They were always up to something, most of the time just causing slight annoyances to the townsfolk. They were good kids but had low survival instincts.
You worry about her, as if you were her own mother. Joel is taken back to the night you had come over for dinner, Tommy busy being part of the patrol that evening. Ellie had confessed to you first about her crush on a girl she met in school.
"She's so fucking cool. She has all these tattoos‐"
Joel was washing up the dishes, Ellie was showing you around her bedroom, explaining every detail and knick knack, having stopped to explain a sketch pinned to her cork board.
"You have a crush on her?" you had asked simply, accompanied by a teasing grin.
She was nervous to discuss this aspect of her life, admittedly. To express it openly, if at all. Her face fell, growing paler by the second. She didn’t know how to bring this up in a conversation, especially not with Joel.
"Don't tell him..." She winces as she says it. It felt awkward even thinking about it with you. You cross your arms and narrow your eyes as you hear a shift from outside the bedroom. Joel must have come up the stairs, used to being quiet in his steps.
It had broken his heart. An axe pressing down the side, twisting and pushing so hard he thought he couldn't breathe for a second.
"I won't," you reply, smiling softly at her.
The beating organ in his chest seemed to plummet to his stomach.
"But..." you had pushed her hair back, pulling her to your side, your hand squeezing her shoulder and arm reassuringly, "That man cares about you so much, he would rather die than make you feel as if he didn't."
Ellie had told him in passing a couple of days later, then asking how to ask girls out, her eyes flickering from where he stood and the hallway every few seconds.
Of course you were there, sipping from one of his mugs, enjoying the coffee he had offered to share with you. He smiled at you so gratefully you thought another man was staring at you. He’s sure if you hadn’t reassured Ellie she would have never mentioned a thing.
It was sweet, watching him try to explain how to impress a woman, turning to you for help but only being met with a shrug and a smirk. You liked watching them communicate, live, just be. He really did care about her like a father, a good one, even if he asked too many questions about this mystery girl named Kat.
You were starting to see her as a daughter too, although you don't think you'll ever confess that to anyone, not even Tommy. If anything the closest thing you could be with Ellie is her aunt.
You sigh when she leaves the dining hall in a rush now. You briefly glance down at your lap, feeling your disappointment flare in your mind once again at waking up to find out you were going through your cycle that month.
…
A month ago, Tommy had told him how you were trying. He finally felt safe enough and sure of the town's own wellbeing. He was starting to look towards settling down. With you.
Joel got quiet after that conversation, letting him talk on and on about how you two were reorganizing your home, gathering supplies for the baby or babies if you were lucky enough. Tommy had winked at that, a smirk firmly planted on his face mentioning offhandedly that he remembers their uncle having twins, as well as their grandparents having a pair as well.
Joel had excused himself afterwards and you had caught him at the door of your house just as he was stepping out.
"Hey, Joel," you had greeted, pulling him into a hug.
You wrapped your arms around him tightly, your hands sliding up his sides and onto his back, accidentally going under his jacket. Your chest was flush against his, he could feel your breasts squeeze and compress against him.
He reciprocated all too willingly, you gave a surprised chuckle as he squeezed you close. His chin rested against your head for a second, he caught a whiff of your aroma, a hint of lavender from the soap an old woman makes and sells at the butchers from animal fat and herbs.
Tommy must have bought you some. He swallowed thickly and kept you at an arm's length.
"Mrs. Miller."
You chuckle, he'd call you that and it would sound as if he himself had given you the name to keep. You vaguely remember the time a newcomer had asked where your husband was, Tommy sitting right next to you.
You gave them a weird look, then they clarified, "Where's Joel?"
Tommy had chuckled it off, ignoring your growing frown. It was funny to him, but it wasn't to you. He hadn't thought of the implications of the misconception like you had. It had become a running joke, one you didn’t really appreciate as much as the rest.
When you thought about it, you and Tommy are only ever together at night, when he is done with his day. Most of your activities now included fucking or sleeping. It felt as if you barely even spoke a full conversation nowadays.
You had glanced inside the house and a glimmer of hope filled you as you saw Tommy.
"How are you?" you ask, your attention visibly diverted elsewhere but at Joel. You glance back at him, in front of you, smiling politely at your brother in law, hoping he might leave soon.
Joel nods, pursing his lips, hating the way you had stepped back and your warmth left him, your hands resting on his forearms so that you could have a small courteous chat before he left.
"Good,” he purses his lips and sucks in his teeth. He had half a mind to tell you to mind your manners at your indifference.
“Heard you were thinkin' of adding a Miller to the family."
Your face scrunches in what looks to be embarrassment and some form of annoyance. Tommy loves to go around town and run his mouth, you glanced behind Joel to catch Tommy leaning against the doorway, you narrowed your eyes playfully before your face fell a little, seeing that he had his boots on along with his pack on his shoulder, ready to leave again.
You focus back on Joel.
"Yeah, hopefully. It's taking a bit."
You look down to the ground, trying to hide your disappointment. When he turned back, he could see Tommy's own look of slight despair. Your relationship was at a strain, despite himself, he started to find elation in his heart at the fact.
Especially when you started to talk to him about it.
…
"How are you?" Joel muttered, still sitting next to you at the hall, an hour after Ellie had left. A question was echoed back to you for once, since you always wanted to know about everyone else's day.
You nod, followed by a small "Good," which he didn't believe at all. He reaches a hand across the table, and he wonders how Tommy never understands why people mistake you and Joel for a couple. You flip your hand, slowly as if you were hesitant. Your fingers twist together with his tightly in confidence.
"Is it Tommy?"
You sigh, breathing out shakily and attempting to smile and brush off the sadness that envelopes you.
"It's not… he's working. I know I shouldn’t be selfish- it's just, I wish he would stop playing hero so much.”
You sigh.
“It just feels as if he's not here with me anymore."
Joel knew all too well how Tommy gets when he sets a goal. He came all the way to Wyoming from Boston all by himself for god's sake. He tends to leave his family behind. Joel would never. Especially not if he had a wife at home, ready to build a family with him in a prospering community.
You look around the room and find that only you and Joel were there. No food was being served at the moment, not until lunch. You finally let yourself break.
Your eyes fill with tears, your lips start to wobble and you try to hide your face with your hand.
"I just‐ I feel so lonely sometimes."
His arms go around your shoulders, you’re enveloped in his scent and warmth. Shivers go down your spine. When was the last time Tommy had held you this way? His head atop yours, squeezing you tightly and pressing you against his chest as he cradles your head. It's been too long.
"Hey, darlin'. I'm here, it's okay," he whispers. He pulls back to see you so broken, so beautiful and vulnerable. He hates the way his heart beats wildly at the hopeful way you look up at him with half lidded eyes.
"You're not alone, baby. I'm right here with you."
He looks into your eyes deeply, his hands cupping your face. It was wrong, he knew it was. It should be Tommy in his place, he shouldn’t have started leaning in, his eyes shouldn’t have flickered to your lips, prompting you to do the same.
Something desperate had built in your chest, aching to be released.
You grip him by the lapels of his thick jacket, pushing yourself to meet his lips with your own eagerly. He reciprocates with a deep groan, as if he had been holding it in since the day he met you.
You don’t stop when he has coaxed your mouth open, his tongue sliding past your lips and caressing your own. You don’t stop when you give a high whine, feeling your core pulse at the way his hands travelled to your waist, dipping into the denim of your jeans to grip the fat of your hips.
You don’t stop when your hands run over his hair, feeling the roots and lightly tugging. But you realize his hands were different, his lips and his hair weren't what you were used to.
You stop when you realize you weren't kissing Tommy. Your husband. The man you wear your ring for.
You push away quickly, leaving Joel leaning towards you as if he couldn't get enough. He genuinely couldn't, your taste was intoxicating, the feel of your body against his so intimately made his mind blur.
“Shit-Joel-“
He attempted to kiss you again, but you leaned further away, standing and shaking your head in shock. He watched you leave, rushing to put on your jacket, taking big strides.
You glanced at him one last time as you passed by the window, catching his stare, how his mouth hung open and he licked his lips when you had stopped slightly only to continue forward, flustered.
One thing was for sure, as he watched you go to the stables, shaking your hands vigorously and slamming the doors forcefully, you were like a drug to him.
…
You had acted as if nothing had happened, you hadn't gone to his house for dinner, you hadn't invited him to get breakfast with you and you haven't been alone with him since.
It was just a kiss, he thought. A kiss and he lost you for who knows how long. He watches you closely when Tommy invites him over for dinner, how you talk to Ellie most of the night, how you keep a hand on Tommy at all times like a message.
You were Tommy's and you wanted him.
He could see through the facade easily. He wonders if you think of the kiss often. If you imagine Joel instead of Tommy when he fucks you. He thinks of you often, almost every night when he jerks his cock in his fist, imagining your whines and whimpers, how wet you must get and how you crave touch so intensely.
He imagines you under the layers of clothes you wear, how he would peel them off slowly, make you squirm under his gaze. Some nights your stomach is as it normally is, soft and healthy, others it's swollen, so much so your breasts rest atop it like a shelf.
He likes those nights, when he imagines himself giving you the baby you wanted, which Tommy seems to be lacking on. He'd stave himself off, letting go of his cock or squeezing so tightly his orgasm is lost. He'd have a vision in his mind, your big puffy tits in his mouth, sucking at a constant rate to get your milk going down his throat and falling heavily into his stomach.
He wanted to be full of you, satiated by what you provide. He wanted you to be full of him. Fucking twins. You had told him the other day, before you had started avoiding him entirely, how twins run in your family.
Two beautiful babies. Healthy and chubby because you two would take care of them with so much love and care. Beautiful babies he would watch grow and become beautiful people.
He would hug you goodbye and it would make your skin crawl, in a good way, debating by the way your breath hitched and goosebumps would spread over your arms.
What really made him know you felt a thrill go down your spine was the fact that you smelled different.
Joel had dropped off a gift for you as an apology, soap. Milk and Honey. Tommy delivered it right to you after they had done a patrol together, not knowing its true intention. You even sent a half hearted note in thanks back to him, of course Tommy serving as the middleman.
You smelled so warm now, homely. Motherly.
…
You started feeling sick a couple months later and the next few months were filled with celebrations and gatherings all for the growing Miller family. He started seeing you more often, his desires increased tenfold. Each time he would see you, your belly would be slightly larger, your body softer but your eyes were starting to dull.
Tommy's appearance was becoming less and less prominent and you would be surrounded by mothers and parents, elderly and children, all trying to ensure that you were doing well.
Your eyes only ever brightened when Ellie was around, which wasn't often anymore. She was growing into a young adult and to be completely honest she didn't find anything worth talking about with you anymore, not since your condition had impeded you from riding on a horse comfortably, let alone help patrol or keep up at the stables.
It felt as if everyone was slowly starting to avoid you. At least the people you cared for. Tommy picks up any job and task he could get his hands on, and Ellie is off with her friends, worrying the whole town.
Recently, they had made their way out of Jackson, taking some of the horses from the stables without telling anyone. You remember the look on Joel's face when a patrolman found them out and drinking alcohol, he was so red and his brows were so furrowed deep he looked cartoonish.
Your heart had warmed at his sigh afterwards, shaking his head and most likely having counted to ten in his head to keep in his anger. A pat on the back is all he did, telling her to go to school and that when she came back they were going to discuss some things.
His eyes connected with yours afterwards, catching you staring and for the first time in a while you kept your gaze steady. Your hand had gone to the now prominent swell of your middle, wondering how Tommy would have reacted to the very same situation Ellie was in.
Would he shout and scream or would he collect himself and give a stern warning? Now that you thought of it, he didn’t really interact with children all that much. Joel was so patient with children, Tommy had told you about Sarah, how Joel had stepped up to be a single parent and was amazing at it.
Tommy talks to Ellie, you suppose, but that was because Joel would bring her around all the time. Would he even be a good father?
You stop yourself before you could think about it more. Thinking about wanting Tommy to be like Joel was mean. This was his first time being a dad, Joel had already done it before. It wasn't fair to judge so quickly, especially if the baby wasn't even in his arms yet.
But wouldn't it be nice... you imagine Joel with a baby in his arms, swaying ever so slightly, smiling down at the bundle of warmth. Then he would look at you, his eyes softening when you smiled softly at the scene.
In that moment, as Joel smiles at you and you smile sheepishly back, he took it as a sign that he could get close again.
Joel isn't the type of man to let an opportunity go to waste.
...
You waddle, you waddle now, and it was exhausting. There was no one to complain to, no one to even talk about these problems you have been dealing with because Tommy was tired too.
He would come back home, finding you half asleep with a book in hand on the rocking chair he had been able to get by trading with a grumpy old man arguing about which was worse, back pain or a seven pound baby weighing down on your hips. He had barely spoken a word before he went up to shower and ultimately go to bed for his morning shift.
He didn't hear how you shifted in bed, trying to find a comfortable position, how sometimes you would wake up nauseated and puke when he was still asleep. He wasn't even there when you felt the first kicks, when you had dropped your laundry basket to the floor and stood in shock when you had finally felt something shift.
The event was announced in passing, a comment about having felt the baby, and it was shrugged off, a passing hand at your shoulders and a peck to your lips before he left.
It was disheartening and disappointing. Things were so good before, then you had asked to build a family with him and you regret it now. You had just gotten married and you were so desperate for how things were before the outbreak that you didn't realize how hard things would be to even get ready for such a monumental step in your life.
Tommy wanted you to be as safe as possible. He wanted the baby to be as safe as possible. According to him, the only person tasked with being able to complete those goals was him. He was taking the lead in patrols, taking the lead in council meetings and interventions, oftentimes taking your place and not even calling you in for a hearing.
‘You’re pregnant, you can't be walkin’ much. The stress will hurt the baby, let me take care of it.’
You were hoping to talk about it in the evening when you knew Tommy would be home. He had taken a morning and night shift, having midday to rest. You hope it meant you would see him more, to stop thinking about other men in his stead.
A bell from the door startled you, and when your head turned sharply to the clock by the wall your heart started pumping with joy. The door opened and Tommy was met with a bright smile.
The hug had made him take a step back, almost losing his balance from how you threw your whole body in his arms. He held you as tight as he could, slightly swaying and sighing from the way your head fell almost perfectly into the warm junction of his neck and shoulder.
Your bodies radiate happiness, your minds turning blank at each other's touch. His hands gripped yours tightly when you had started roaming, your lips already working over his exposed neck after a few seconds of inhaling his deep musk.
It's been months since you've been this close and your body needed some release. You were already wet, your pussy clenching at the thought of him taking his jacket and flannel off and exposing his broad chest and shoulders in the tight thermos you knew he wore all the time to keep from the winter's cold.
You held in a moan at the taste of his skin, your tongue peeking from your lips teasingly and your hand moving to the front of his pants that you felt slowly becoming firmer with each passing second.
You groaned in frustration when he had stopped you, pulling back to look in your eyes, his brown orbs full of playfulness and slight disappointment.
"Joel and Ellie are going to stay awhile, we can't right now, honey."
It took a minute, you were licking your lips, shifting uncomfortably as he stepped back and let go of you. Then a couple feet from your front porch Joel Miller comes striding in, a small, soft smile on his face as he trudges up the steps, carrying a pack with him.
"Mrs. Miller," he greets, humor in his voice. Your eyes narrow at his confidence as if you hadn't made every move to not be in his presence alone for the past few months.
Tommy's hand caresses up and down on your arm, trying to soothe the mounting disappointment and discomfort at his arrival. His hand gently sweeps over your belly as he kisses the side of your head.
"The generator doesn't work, tried to fix it, but looks like something's off with the wiring."
You eye Joel and Tommy, squinting between the both of them in disbelief.
"I- I know I haven't asked the woman of the house yet." He chuckles nervously, expecting you to chuckle with him. You just stare, his face falls slightly, "But I had already offered them the guest rooms and a Miller always keeps their promises."
...
Tommy learned how to cook for you. It was rough the first few times, when he would give you either burnt food or half cooked and raw meats but with each dinner he had gotten better. Staring at his back, you watch him gathering ingredients from cupboards, turning to ask if you knew where certain things were and smiling when you just motioned with your head in annoyance.
You stand with your back against the kitchen island, sighing loudly from the company. You remember the night he proposed, he pulled his hair in a bun, like he did now to cook, and wore an old dress shirt. He found a record player, brought it home and played some slow songs. His eyes looked so deep into yours that night, it felt like you fell in love all over again.
Tommy turns to you, crossing his arms and giving you that gigawatt smile and it feels as if your chest was starting to combust, the memory of that night suddenly coming to fruition again.
He doesn’t want you to be upset at him. He misses you too. So much. He takes a step towards you, his hand reaching out-
"Can I?"
Joel's chest blocks your view, you stand up straighter. He didn't ask again when you looked up at him in confusion, his hands already at your stomach, roaming. His fingers prod at the end of your shirt- Tommy's shirt, and pulls up to reveal a sliver of the skin of your stomach.
"Your niece has been growing," Tommy adds after a few seconds, going back to focusing on the stove. He was oblivious to the way you shifted on your feet uncomfortably.
"Niece? You think it's a girl,” Joel asks, looking down at you, his brow quirked.
"Know so, I can feel it," Tommy responds.
Joel smiles softly when you do, glancing behind his shoulder, to look Tommy with a lovestruck look. Tommy deserves a good life; he just hates that it had to be with you. Maybe if you weren't already together when he arrived, he would have swooped in and taken you first.
Maybe then he would be the one telling Tommy that his niece was growing in your belly instead of the other way around. He turns to you.
"Have you gotten any cravings yet?"
He stares down at you, his eyes moving to your lips and staying there. Tommy couldn't see the glint in his eye, the way his thumb moves in circles on the skin of your belly, slightly pushing up your shirt further.
"No, not yet,” you respond quietly.
You swallow thickly when he hums, it vibrates from his chest to yours, you throb at the feel of his warm palm, riding up your stomach, the smirk of his lips widens.
"It'll happen soon enough, makes you crazy I think, especially now when you can't have what you really want."
The shake of your head makes him chuckle, you glare at his shoulder.
"I'll give her whatever she likes, she's never been without, not with me around."
You purse your lips, quickly finding the irony in your husband’s words. Joel barely turns his head when speaking back to him. He hums again, considering his words.
"You sure?"
Tommy glances back for a second, confused, not quite catching on, still focused on the pieces of steak on the stove. Joel's hands start to drag down lower, moving to your hips, his thumb at your hip bone and digging closer into the front zipper of your jeans, held together with a hair tie.
"What cravings we talkin' about?" Tommy’s voice was unsure, as if he had caught onto something suspicious. Your breath stutters, Tommy's head turns from where he was cooking at the pan.
"I don't know Tommy, maybe I'll want some ice cream."
You interrupt, seeing Joel's eyes squint and his mouth purse.You weren't sure he was going to say what he wanted to, but you knew it was on the tip of his tongue. He was bold and it made you anxious.
"Maybe some pickles with the ice cream,” you reiterate, attempting to lead the conversation to a lighthearted end.
Tommy laughs and Joel frowns when you step away, moving to get a glass of water from the water jar on the kitchen counter. With a kiss to your head, his hands still busy on the sizzling pan and wooden spoon, Tommy chuckles.
"I'll get you all the pickles you want, darlin'."
He winks and swats your ass gently, you scoff, swatting his arm. What concerned you was the fact that Joel had scoffed along with you. Tommy laughs, pointing at Joel with his spoon.
"Sorry, can't take my hands off my lady, maybe you'll get what I mean soon, since you got all them women pecking at your feet."
You expect the conversation to end there, you almost sigh in relief at the seconds of silence afterwards.
"I got my eyes on someone, I'm sure you'll like her Tommy."
"Oh really?"
"Yep."
"Can I meet the lucky gal?"
"I'm sure you already know her since y'know, you've been here longer and it's a pretty small town."
Tommy smiles. He was happy for his older brother, finally settling in. He glances at you beside him, knowing that you had a big part in assimilating him into the town. You glance behind you as if you knew something he didn’t.
His heart swells at your close friendship. He had hoped his brother would have accepted you and the other way around, especially with the stories he had told you about his past.
You knew everything about Joel and he had told Joel everything about you.
"I'm sure I do,” he responds seconds later, arching his brow in your direction.
Your ears burn hot, you don't dare turn around, knowing Joel was grinning right at you.
Lunch was awkward, Tommy had sent you both to set up the table and you had tried to hide your displeasure despite the way Joel's hand on the small of your back made you want to jump out of your skin.
It wasn't horrible, it was a good feeling, especially when he had made you sit down while Tommy finished up, massaging your shoulders, then moving down to your lower back, his fingers grazing over the top of your ass.
A moan had escaped you accidentally, making him stop his movements momentarily and continue with more vigor over the stiffness of your muscles.
"Such pretty sounds coming from a pretty mama," he mutters.
"Joel-“
“It’s ready!”
You shift away a little too quickly, standing and facing Tommy at the doorway. Your hiss from the ache in your back, the sudden weight pulling you down. Tommy immediately goes to your side, urging you to sit back down, barely noticing how close Joel had been seconds before. You eat in relative silence, the dinner lasting longer when Ellie had come in, just coming from her friend’s house.
You only had a few moments with Tommy the rest of the evening, he held you, swaying in the middle of your bedroom, about to put on his boots to leave for patrol. It was always nerve racking, watching him leave now, especially since you used to accompany him all of the time before and now you physically couldn’t. At least he had Maria looking after him. But the worry was still ever present.
“Just a few days and we’ll have the house to ourselves.”
You nod against his chest, gripping his waist tightly. He cups your cheek, feeling your hands shake, trying to keep yourself from crying.
“Hey, I’ll come back, I always do, yeah?”
You nod again and he frowns at your lack of eye contact. His lips soften you some, coaxing your mouth open, making your legs turn to jello at the feel of his hands gliding over your body and pushing you to sit on bed. Your shirt comes off quickly, and he stares in amazement, for the first time in a while seeing your breasts bare.
“They’re bigger, honey.”
You huff a short laugh, watching his hands hesitantly cup them, squeezing and making your nipple bulge from between his fingertips. You moan, your lips parting, your thighs shifting. He looks mesmerized, his tongue flicking outward, his knees shifting closer to you. You spread your legs, already unbuttoning the front of your makeshift maternity jeans, his torso already slotting against the insides of your thighs.
You smell good, he’s been able to get some scented oils for you, mostly for your growing body, to help soften your skin. The things that he’s given up to make sure you were well off. It made him miss these moments with you. He was still amazed at how much the baby had grown.
Then his eyes started flickering, moving to the side as his eyes narrowed. The clock was glaring at him, making him groan in irritation and startling you. He stands, picking up your shirt and helping you put it on.
“Gotta go…”
You barely reciprocate the kiss before he leaves.
…
The stomach makes things more complicated. Your balance is off, you could barely see your toes and you weren't as flexible as before. Your arm had to curve to even reach your pussy, which normally shouldn't have been a problem since you had Tommy around. But you were aching, you barely had any time alone with him and considering Joel's generator had decided to stop working entirely when your schedules were finally aligned you don't think you ever will.
You groan in frustration, your head pressed against the pillows and your eyes closed shut to imagine his scent, his taste, the softness of his hair. You move your hips, imagining his thrusts, your hands running down his bare chest and counting all of the freckles and marks on his skin whenever you rode him. You missed his cock, uncut, thick, hard.
You moan even without touching yourself, imagining him on top of you, his lips at your throat, his teeth biting at the skin of your neck. You didn’t think to lock the door, or pay attention to the way the wood creaks.
"So beautiful…”
You stop your movement, not being able to sit up quick enough and cursing yourself when all you could do was cover yourself with a thin blanket from the side. You stare at him, standing by the door, watching and walking in slowly only to close to the door. The bed dips when his knee connects to the mattress, crawling towards you in your shock.
“He doesn’t take care of you does he?”
You scowl, glancing at him and the door.
“Joel, what are you doing?” you hissed.
His hands reach to cup your face.
“Let me. Please.”
Your eyes were swollen in unshed tears of frustration, your hands were shaking in nerves. He imagines he’s in his home, and you were laying on his bed, naked and so damn horny you could cry. He kisses you softly, cupping your face unexpectedly and dipping you to lay down again. You lean into it helplessly, feeling your hands grasp onto his shirt and grip so tightly it twists. You were the one to take it further, to make sure he stood still when your tongue started dipping in between his lips.
You were so desperate for touch, for any sort of skin on skin that you had momentarily lost yourself, moaning into his mouth, swallowing his groans down and pressing your hands wherever you could to feel him against you. Your hormones were going insane, raging through your body in pulses of pleasure when you sat up again only to push him down and straddle his lap.
His hand runs over your stomach, pressing slightly on the newly formed firmness.
“He hasn’t touched me, not since…”
You motion to your stomach and press further into his chest.
“He’s depriving you, needy thing. You needa cock in you every night, don’t ya. Need cum to fill you to the brim.”
Your hands grip onto his shirt tightly, unbuttoning the front and revealing a white undershirt. You make him groan, teeth nipping harshly at his bottom lip and grazing down his jaw and throat.
“You make me feel good, Joel,” you whispered. Your body was a mess of hormones, you were already dripping by the time his fingers pressed your underwear to the side, making you gasp onto his neck.
There was barely any resistance at his cock, entering you quickly in a thrust. The mattress creaks with each press of your hips, your belly kissing his with each undulation. Your breasts bounce and for a moment his eyes are stuck on the movement, your head thrown back and your hands tightening over his shoulders as you raise your thighs and slap them down again. His hand cradles your belly, his thumb running over your folds and grazing your swollen clit.
He’s amazed by the growth of your stomach, each time. He pretends it’s his, you do too, even if for a moment.
“You're so full of me, sweetheart.”
His cock was stuffing you repeatedly, stretching you wide every time you bounced and your cunt met the base of his shaft. You arch your back, your hands leaning back on his thighs. His head leans forward and his mouth reaches the peaks of your breasts, tongue flicking your nubs in time with his suckles.
“Does Tommy fuck you like this?” He murmurs against your skin.
Your eyes widen, you gasp when he bites down lightly. You clench tightly, the thought of your husband finding you fucking his own brother made your body stiffen and tremble.
“N-not anymore.”
Your wetness covered his lap, smothering the insides of your thighs in slick. His hands grip your hips tightly, lifting you and pressing you harder than your pace. Your body stiffens, your head filling with a pleasant and euphoric fuzz.
“So fuckin' tight, so wet-“ he groans, “how could he resist you, mama?”
Your back hits the mattress, despite the initial discomfort of having your legs spread to either side of your chest, your knees meeting the sides of your breasts, the press of his hips against yours makes your body turn soft and pliant.
The bed creaks, the frames slamming against the wall. Your breath leaves you in puffs, his body over you and his lips attached to your neck, leaving a thick trail of spit from your chest to lips. His hands entangled in yours, his groans next to your ear. You couldn’t think of anything else but him, anything but the way his cock slid into you, making your slick squelch against each slap of skin.
“Tommy doesn’t know the first thing about taking care of a family,” he groans.
He stills, making you whine, your pussy tightening and your hands gripping over his strongly. His head lifts, staring deeply into your eyes, one of his hands cupping your stomach, his thumb smoothing over the gravid swell soothingly. He whispers promises on your lips.
“I’m going to take care of you. You and the baby.”
His thumb presses hard against your clit. You whimper, closing your eyes tightly, nodding lightly.
“Gonna give you more, as much as you can give me.”
He gets lost in your face, brows furrowed in pleasure, lips wide open in ecstasy. His hips move slowly, the tip of his shaft meeting your lips and sinking in, building you further into your climax. He closes his eyes, grinding his pelvis against yours, feeling your legs start to shake, your moans getting higher in pitch. Louder.
You gargle a scream when you lose yourself, making him groan against your chest, holding in a growl at how tight and wet you had gotten. His cum spurts inside you, you groan from the feeling, missing the heat that warms you. You pant, delirious and wiping at your forehead as your legs start to relax, almost cramping from the position he had put you in. His arms wound themselves around you, mouth open in exertion.
You chuckle, almost forgetting how much older he was compared to you. His chest is in sync with yours, his hands roam around your belly when you turn towards him, leaning your heavy stomach against his soft one. The pressure on your back is relieved and you sigh deeply, head burying into his shoulder.
He chuckles, pressing his lips on the side of your head and for a second you thought Tommy was beside you, caressing your stomach in circles, breathing in the scent of your hair. Your finger had stopped tracing patterns on his chest when you had felt a mole on his collarbone, pausing at the unfamiliarity.
Then your heart leapt from your chest, you felt as if you couldn’t breathe. You sit up quickly, tears already springing in your eyes at the man beneath you, sitting up with you to hold your face in his hands.
“What’s wrong?”
You almost scoffed, but you shake your head instead. Your heart drops, Ellie, the bed was banging against the damn walls, you had screamed for god’s sakes.
“Oh god- Ellie- she must have heard everything-“
“She’s not here, she’s with a friend tonight.”
That didn’t stop the tears from falling. You had deceived your husband, you fucked his brother. You were disgusted with yourself, your actions, the thoughts you had been fighting for months now.
He grips your face tightly, hearing you mutter Tommy’s name over and over again in a quiet whisper, trying to push yourself away from him. He surprises you with his lips against yours, he swallows your gasp, pulling you impossibly closer. Your lungs burned, your head cradled in his hands, his eyes closed tightly willing you to stay put.
You hate how you reciprocated, feeling your heart thump quickly in affection, something you used to only feel with Tommy.
…
Joel was with you every night, waiting until Tommy had left, when Ellie was in deep sleep or gone off with a friend. Sometimes he would take you in the morning, which was becoming an even more common occurrence.
You smile more often, you haven’t felt so doted on in what felt like a year. You didn’t need Tommy anymore, not when Joel was always with you, taking jobs around town now, mostly at the stables and with the cattle where you were usually set to supervise.
His presence was accepted by you again, you were practically at the hip, Ellie tagging along every now and then, sometimes giving you a strange look when he would sit too close and his hands would twitch to yours when you were walking.You’d always ignored it. All of Tommy’s time was at work, and when he didn’t have anything to do it would be spent with Joel.
Your sudden indifference to his attention made him worried. It was wrong, wanting your wife to be miserable when you were gone, but so was he. Tommy hated every minute apart from you and now that he saw you so content with the situation, a complete change from your sad looks and tired but grateful gazes whenever he came home to you, he knew something must have happened.
He confides in Maria and she gives him hours off, reassuring him that the whole community was willing to help him and his wife raise their child. And that meant keeping them safe from whatever was outside Jackson’s walls.
She felt pity for you both but Tommy was one stubborn man, he didn’t want anyone else’s help, claiming it was unfair to the other members of the commune. She could see the strain, how most of your pregnancy was spent alone.
“There’s an event… tonight…”
Maria raises a brow, eyes full of mirth. She turns to him with a small smile on her lips.
“Everyone will be there, I’m sure you could surprise her there.”
He nods slowly, his eyes flickering as if already imagining how he would swoop you off of your feet. A smile rises on his face, his chest fills with excitement.
“Dancing?”
Maria chuckles. She gives him a look.
“What kind of monsters do you think we are? Of course there’ll be dancing.”
He smiles so wide his teeth seem to glimmer in the moonlight.
“Shower before, I doubt she’ll be too happy about your stench.”
He scoffs, his horse trotting ahead to make it to the settlement quicker. She watches on, his slumped shoulders now straightened and his chest puffed. He glances behind him gesturing for her to hurry it up.
…
You and Tommy used to attend these things all the time. There was cause for community celebrations all of the time. Even if the same songs would keep playing, and at times there was the same foods and beverages being served, Tommy had always managed to bring you out to dance. It was always exciting.
Now you’re here with Joel and Ellie, Joel nursing a beer, and Ellie talking your ear off. His hand was on your thigh under the table, occasionally moving over your belly and rubbing. Your hand would caress over his forearm, fiddling with his sleeve, tightening whenever you had caught yourself throwing your head back in laughter.
You lay your head against his shoulder, chuckling along to whatever comment he had responded with before sipping his beer smugly. Ellie had been bothering him about his love life, commenting on how much of a loner he is, hanging around a fifteen year old and a heavily pregnant and married woman. He had eyed you, a smirk in place. You shoved your elbow into his ribs and he winced.
The door had opened to the hall and he turned, minding the way you laid your head against his shoulder, your nose pressing against the fabric of his long sleeve shirt. His face fell, and his hand patted your thigh, caressing over your stomach one last time before shifting away. He wasn’t hiding anything for himself, if anything he wouldn’t mind the whole world knowing you were his, but you would.
You still loved Tommy, the yearning was still there and when he saw him standing at the doorway, his eyes roaming around the hall, he knew you would go to him. You turn to where Joel’s gaze was directed, your eyes brightening. Tommy shouldn’t be in town. His shift should have ended in a couple hours more.
“Tommy,” you whisper.
Joel’s hand meets your back when you attempt to stand, taking in a sharp inhale from the sudden exertion. You were wearing a maternity dress Tommy had found during one of his patrols. It was early in your pregnancy and you had joked about dreading the day it would actually fit.
You wave him over, and his face brightens in a smile, striding over to the table quickly. His hands move to your waist, his body slightly hunched to lift you against him as he hugs you tightly. Your head buries itself in the curls kissing his neck, your hands landing on his back.
“Hey darlin’, missed me?”
You had pulled him down for a kiss and those around you had fawned over quietly at the scene. You two were the success story. You were the model for a new life in Jackson. Everyone knew of the two council members who would shamelessly flirt with each other, who had developed their relationship among the work of helping the community.
The rest of the night he was clinged to you and in turn you to him. He had asked you to dance and Joel had protested, saying you shouldn’t be on your feet too much, and you would only get achy. It had only stopped Tommy momentarily, until you had dragged him to the floor in a slow song.
Joel helped you off of the bench, his hands on your lower back and Tommy’s hand on yours. Their eyes connected, and he threw a look of confusion in Joel’s direction, especially when he noted his barely hidden scowl.
You lightly sway, Tommy’s hand holding yours over his heart.
“I’ll make it up to you,” he whispered against your ear.
His eyes were filled with ardor, one of his palms roaming to the curve of your ass. His head buried itself next to yours. You only slapped his shoulder, kissing his cheek when he groaned playfully.
Your head lays against him, you inhale his scent. The song was slow, enough so that you didn’t have to leave the interlocking of your bodies, looking as if you were just standing in a hug. Your arms move under his pits and over his wide back, his arm wraps over your waist, a hand over your bump protectively.
Members of the community stare at you both, some smiling in his direction, others nodding. They could see how much happier you are, how you smile so pleasantly against his chest. It brought Tommy pride, showing off his pregnant wife. He did that. He put that baby in you. You were his beautiful wife. He was so lucky and he had been so close to losing everything.
“I’m sorry.”
Your head rises, looking up with brows arched in surprise.
“What?-“
“I know I haven’t been here, for you, for the baby.”
His eyes well with tears, he looks down on you with a sad smile.
“Maria gave me some time off- well not some- a lot.”
He cups your face, your eyes widening at the affection. This is what you wanted, for the longest and now you have it.
Why do you feel your heart sink? Not at the fact that he was going to be around longer but at the fact that you had to let Joel go. You glance in his direction, he was turned away, Ellie still talking to him about something passionately judging by the way her hands move frantically.
He would be fine, you thought, he had his own family.
You smile brightly, the brightest you have in a while and Tommy’s heart expands. It was almost as if Joel could sense your eyes from a second before. His heart plummets to the floor, you were stomping all over it, you and Tommy. He watches Tommy kiss you delicately, your hands gliding up to the back of his neck to keep him there. You moan against his lips, deep and throaty from the way his tongue swiped over your bottom lip.
“Missed you, baby.”
You rest your forehead against his, feeling his warmth closer than ever. You hold him tighter, resting your head against his shoulder when you pull yourself up against his chest.
“Missed you too,” you mutter.
The last thing you see before being dragged away, your coat being placed over you in a rush, was Joel’s deep frown, staring until you had made it out the door.
You ignored it.
…
Your legs shake, thighs jiggling with each shift. Tommy was underneath you, his lips smacking, savoring your taste and his hands on either side of your hips helping you stay up and balanced against his face.
“Mmmh fuck baby, haven’t been taking care of this pussy in months. She’s so goddamn needy.”
Your hands tighten over the headboard. You nod, moaning out his name when his tongue flicks up to your clit. Then his hands tighten over you, pressing you against his face, not letting you up. His head swivels from side to side, his tongue out and his nose rubbing against you relentlessly. He makes you grind on him, and you lose yourself.
“Joel,” you moan.
His hand loosens slightly, your body freezes for a moment, and for a second your heart stops, beating wildly afterwards when he had continued with more fervor.
You had forced your mind to blank, focusing on the way his tongue flicked over your clit repeatedly, tonguing your slit afterwards and pressing his nose up to pull your hood from your sensitive nerves. You think of the way his cock is probably throbbing, aching in his jeans, straining against the zipper. He rubs almost too harshly against you, and you cum with a surprised yelp.
He licks up the mess slowly, helping you come down in waves. He lifts you gently and when you try to reach for his crotch, wanting to palm him he stops you. He helps you lay down afterwards, minding your shaking thighs and your sweat soaked skin. He stares for a moment, getting lost in your state. You give him a questioning look.
“Did you-“
He’s at a loss for words. He swallows thickly and tries again.
“Did you say someone else’s name- just now?”
You pause, you stop breathing for a moment. You had hoped he missed that, that he would dismiss it quickly.
“You said Joel.”
You shake your head slowly, wiping at your forehead, flicking the sweat from your brows.
“I said oh.”
It was said so confidentially, it sounded genuine and his eyes immediately softened in guilt. How could he accuse you of such a thing?The bulge that was at the front of his pants was now gone. You sigh.
“I’m sorry if I ruined the mood-“
“No. No, it’s fine, I just uh- I shouldn’t have been thinkin’ of my brother when I was between such pretty legs.”
You chuckle, your face warming but not at the vulgarity of his words or his try at a joke but at the fact that he had been so close to the truth and you were such a great actress. You feel a great shame when he joins you for a bath, helping you lean back against his chest and caressing over your skin with a sponge. As if he could wash away the past weeks when you used his brother to feel good about yourself.
You cling onto him, and he savors it, not knowing that your over affections came from guilt.
Coincidentally, the same week Tommy had managed to fix Joel’s generator, now having enough time to look it over. Joel and Ellie were now gone. Now you and Tommy could finally have some time alone despite them coming over every so often, Joel more than Ellie.
…
“Gonna give you more, look so pretty like this, stretched out on my cock and swollen with my baby.”
Sometimes Joel would invite you over for breakfast, he could afford the food now, especially since he’s taken some shifts for patrol lately and the pay was always good. He loved having his meals with you, especially before Tommy’s shift ended and his began. His belt buckle clinks loudly with each thrust, his hands fisting your dress tightly.
The breath is pushed out of your lungs each time his cock plunges into you. You moan wantonly, head lolling between your shoulders. Your palms almost slide off the kitchen island, your legs spread wide from where you stood. You whine when he slows, closing your eyes tightly, honing in on his grunts and the sound of your ass meeting his pelvis.
He grunts loudly and his warmth fills you. His head meets your shoulder, his breath wet and hot on your exposed skin. His hand moves to grope over your breast, you lean back against his body, breathing heavily, cunt still throbbing from your loss of release.
“Fuck, baby, made me finish early, got you squeezing my cock so tight.”
He slips out of you and you groan, his spend sliding down your thighs. His fingers place your panties back, tapping against your mound and pulling his hands away when you buckle forward only to smooth down the skirt of your dress.
“I could take care of you another way, sweetheart.”
He pulls you against him, his arms wrapping around your waist, cupping your belly and holding the weight in his hands. You relax further against his hold, sighing in slight relief. Your eyes wander around the room, and your back straightens, you gasp, eyeing the clock.
“Tommy’s almost home.”
“Jus’ a few minutes, promise.”
“Joel-“
He turns you in his arms, his hands roaming over your sides.
“One more taste, please.”
You lick your lips in contemplation and before you knew it he was guiding you to sit at the dining room table.
He was kneeling, hidden under your long summer dress. Your breasts had looked amazing in them, you were developing a bigger cleavage and you had decided to show it off. You looked so pretty sitting down in the recreational area, smiling during conversation, a hand on your bump, running circles over the soft fabric of your dress.
You lean back on the chair, you could see his head from beneath, a lump at your front and with the lacy ends of your skirt delicately splayed on his broad back. He was going slow, taking his time, hovering his mouth over you so that you would squirm in impatience.
“Joel, please.”
How could he ignore your whines, the way your hips twitch to his mouth. He eats like a man starved, ever since he first arrived he ate as if his meal would be swiped from under his nose at any second. He feels that way with you, waiting for Tommy to take you away, only having you when he was gone. He yearns to keep you, to just cup your face and kiss you at any given moment and not in the confines of a locked room.
He still didn’t understand why you didn’t let him, he was obviously a better choice for you, he could be a better father than his brother, a better husband. Your back arches, your palm smoothing over the head covered in fabric. His nose nudges your clit repeatedly, his tongue laying flat against your slit, the tip running over the insides of your cunt. He could barely breathe but he didn’t care.
He drags you forward, the back of your shoulders meeting the back of the chair. You stare up at the ceiling, trying to keep your breaths in line. He kisses up the insides of your thighs, shifting on his knees every so often. He was deliberate in taking his time and you chuckle when he continues again, slurping and licking to his heart’s content.
You glance out the window, mouth wide open, sweat collecting on your brow and eyes so hooded it looked as if you were on the cusp of a moan.
There he is. Your husband, watching with cold eyes, his pack on one shoulder and a rifle on the other. He always comes in from the backyard. How could you forget?
Your eyes widened, you slapped the head between your legs and the chair scratches against the floor from how quickly you shifted away.
Time seems to slow for you, you refused to answer any of Joel’s questions, your body already shaking and tears falling down the sides of your face. You stare at the floor, hearing the doorbell resound around the house. Joel ignored it, his eyes frantically roaming over your face.
“Did I hurt you? What-what happened?”
The walls shake from how hard Tommy pounds at the door. You seem to collapse over yourself, standing quickly and lifting up your underwear after taking a breath.
The knocks continue, each time getting louder. He calls out your name, yelling at you to open.
“Open this goddamn door!”
Your breath catches in your throat, you choke on a sob as Joel stands, opening the door hard enough for it to slam inside.
You could briefly catch the hint of betrayal in his eyes. He stares at Joel for a few moments, his mouth open in shock. Then his face changes to a look of realization. All of these months wondering about the looks, the sudden happiness while he was gone.
Deep down he felt shameful. Was he not enough for you? Was his older brother better than him? His face twists in indignation. It makes your stomach turn. You’ve only seen him like this once before. On a patrol where you had confronted a hoard of infected.
One was on top of you, your knife having been skidded across the floor from a fall moments before. In the span of a second, you could have been bitten, your neck ripped to shreds.
He thought he lost you. He wanted to rip the world apart. It felt that way too now.
Tommy’s hands make it to the lapels of Joel’s jacket before you could even push past the doorway, pulling him out to the porch and down the steps.
Their faces were inches away, practically snarling and snapping like bulldogs. You watch, your legs stiff, as Tommy pushes him on the chest, screaming in his face and glancing in your direction every so often. Joel barely reacts. Tommy directs a dirty look towards you and your heart sinks.
“Is that even my baby? How long has she been spreadin’ her legs for you?”
You gasp, hands pressing to your bump protectively. Joel finally reacts, his own hands pressing against Tommy’s chest and pushing him back a couple feet. He points an accusing finger.
“You watch your tongue, boy, I won’t let you talk about her that way.”
Tommy scoffs, voice rising.
“You’re sleepin’ with my wife!”
“Someone has to!”
You rush down the steps when Tommy swings, already having straddled him on the ground by the time you reach their wrestling forms. He slams a fist down Joel’s face. You yell out.
“Tommy, stop it!”
He grunts, ignoring your yells. He was reaching for the rifle now dropped across the ground and covered in snow.
“Tommy stop-“
You reached for his shoulder, Joel’s face was already split, his teeth covered in his own blood. Tommy pushes you away and you fall on your ass, yelping and slipping from the snow. He stops almost immediately and Joel pushes him away, crawling towards you. The fabric of your dress was getting wet, your legs starting to sting and numb from the cold.
You weakly push the rifle away and it thunks against the wooden fence, far away from either man.
You sit up with a groan, the impact of the ground making your hips ache. You keep your head down when you stand with Joel’s help, neighbors having come out of their homes from the commotion. Tommy stares as if he wanted to help, his hands twitching in your direction.
“Get inside.”
“Joel-“
“I said get inside.”
You follow his command, but not before lifting your head to catch Tommy’s stare, his eyes narrowed and flickering from your stomach to your face. Joel spits red on the snow inches away from Tommy’s boots. You couldn’t hear what they were saying, but you kept your gaze out of the window, catching Tommy’s eyes moving to the house every so often. He leaves with a scowl and Joel’s heads inside with his shoulders slumped.
You tend to his face, his hand at your bump, not leaving it even when you had made him stand to make him take a bath. You fall into his arms that night, staying in his room and sobbing the rest of the day, knowing that you had just lost someone you loved.
…
"The baby's yours..."
His eyes flickered to his hand tightly fisted at the table and back to you, sitting down in front of him, scared out of your wits and rubbing small frantic circles over your stomach.
"That's not‐ I know."
He ignores the tears falling from your eyes, he sighs.
“I know she’s mine. I do, sweetheart.”
His softness made you sob, your palms covering your eyes and your lips quivering to keep in the sounds of your cries.
“I’m sorry, Tommy.”
You sit in silence, until you catch your breath. It’s been a few days and you had decided to go back home, alone. Joel didn’t even know you were there. He didn’t want you to see Tommy anymore, claiming he didn’t deserve you and that he could raise the baby all fine with you. You still wanted Tommy in your life, in your child’s life.
“I think it will be best if you move over to Joel’s for now, I… I need time.”
You wanted to cry again, to heave yourself off to bed and just collapse into the mattress. You just nod solemnly.
“When the time comes, I’ll be there for her, for you. I love you, and I don’t think I’ll ever stop.”
He chuckles sadly, his eyes watering and threatening to spill. He reaches for your hand, standing and kneeling to kiss the side of your head one last time before he went to work, leaving you to pack up.
“I love you too,” you murmur.
He hums, nodding against you before inevitably letting go.
…
"So... you and Joel."
Small town gossip doesn't escape anyone, even in the post apocalypse. If the teenagers somehow knew, you don't doubt the adults did too. You stay quiet, festering in your guilt and embarrassment. She was going to find out eventually, you’ve been staying over for a few days now, you were sitting on the porch to their backyard at the moment.
"I mean, you could move in with us... he's kind of already like a dad..." To me, she might have added, she's not quite sure she'd ever specifically call him that outwardly though.
"Might as well complete the nuclear family, two kids and two parents. Could get a dog too..."
You fight a chuckle, she's been on and on about wanting a dog recently. Even in a serious conversation she brings it up. What really piqued your interest was the fact that she had included you in her nuclear family, the other parent.
It tore your heart in two and stitched it back up again. She saw you as a mother figure, maybe even your unborn child as a brother or sister. Your face falls, thinking of Tommy, how he had told you he needed time. You have doubts on whether or not he would love the child, it's not like there were any paternity tests anymore. He might think Joel was the biological father. Why would he believe a cheater anyway? Why would Joel even care about the kid either, knowing the truth of their paternity?
"The kid's not his..."
"I'm not either," she snaps at you. But he still cares about me like his own. You could see it in her eyes, she was stern, not wanting to leave any doubts in her argument. You sigh not wanting to intrude in anything, not wanting to get into a family when you didn’t know the outcomes of the one you had just put in pause.
She rests her head against your shoulder, watching as Joel works on the small garage she was going to call home soon. Joel wanted to get the baby’s room ready. Ellie offered to move out. He was excited.
You didn’t have the heart to tell him about the conversation you had with his brother.
Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs help motivate me and other authors! FYI ☺ Cucked is one of my favs but I think I kind of want to leave it as a one-shot. Let me know what y'all think.
[SUMMARY: Joel’s jealousy gets harder to handle knowing the history you and Tommy had.]
PART 4, the other parts are linked below this chapter.
“You watchin’ my girl undress?” Joel turned to him, the thought of his brother or any man trying to take a look at you this way made him feel…territorial.
It had been a month now since the truth came out. A month since Tommy learned you had cheated on him with Joel, and as much as Tommy tried to act like the understanding brother that knew Joel was in love with you, there was a lingering anger brewing inside him.
Of course there was, Tommy felt Joel didn’t deserve you to give him a chance, he felt he was the better choice and you failed to see it. It felt strange having a relationship with Joel after the way things happened, you avoided seeing Tommy as much as possible. Even after apolgizing to him you didn’t have the face to be with Joel in front of him in his house.
It was plain wrong.
Joel knew his brother was still upset at the situation but he didn’t know just how much of a grudge he was holding. Watching you and Joel outside the window every morning, being affectionate, kissing him, talking with him as if nothing happened, it wasn’t fair. But Tommy knew how he could get his revenge, see only he knew just how much of a jealous side Joel had. Although Joel tried to move along with you these past few weeks, he knew damn well that Joel couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that you slept with Tommy at all. You knew Joel must’ve thought about it, although, he promised you he would never bring it up.
Joel kissed you by your front door before heading off to work. He could feel you softly push him away as his tongue swirled around yours.
“Ok, ok..not here”
He sighed as he took a step back.
“Tommy can come out any minute” you whispered softly brushing your hand up his chest.
“I know but we can’t stay hidden forever, he knows we’re together” Joel attempted to argue but simply by the look on your face he tightened his lips. You knew he didn’t like it, he felt he should be able to freely show his woman how much he wanted her without worrying about his brother. He wasn’t proud about how things had gone down, but Tommy admitted to him he didn’t love you, he insisted for his brother to go on with his life…but he wasn’t honest to himself.
Tommy had kept silent about you as much as he could but it was getting harder for him to stay that way. Driving the truck to work, Tommy looked over at his brother eager to start up a conversation. Easy to find a way to speak of you.
“So how’s y/n doin’?”
Joel hesitantly looked over at his brother, not expecting to hear your name from his mouth.
“She’s fine”
“Guess that pill worked huh?” A sarcastic tone played with a smile, Joel’s brows furrowed.
“S’cuse me?” He knew damn well what pill Tommy was referring to. That damn after pill that Joel had secretly hoped wouldn’t work.
“Ya know, her plan B or whatever-“
“I know what the hell youre talkin’ about, why are ya speakin of it?” Joel snapped. Tommy shrugged with a light laugh.
“Just sayin’”
Later that day at work with a few other men, Joel overheard one of the guys speaking on what their wife was into. From afar he shook his head hearing the men get lost in their stories until Tommy began to share his.
“This last girl I was into, she liked it real rough” he smirked as he continued to work, he knew Joel would be listening in. The second Tommy began bragging about a sexual encounter, he looked up from the corner of his eyes, lips pressed tightly wondering if he was speaking of you. It had to be.
“Don’t they all” one of the guys interrupted with a laugh.
“Na this one was somethin’ else man. She melted into a damn puddle the second I’d wrap my hand around her throat” he looked over to see Joel biting his inner cheek, attempting to block out the conversation, keeping himself busy but he knew damn well he was listening.
“Oh she sounds like a wild ride” another man responded with excitement.
“It was a one time ride I wouldn’t mind testin’ out again” Joel instantly looked up hearing the two men laugh.
“What’s so funny?” He stopped what he was doing walking towards them.
“Just a story he was tellin’ me bout some broad” the guy responded with a laugh.
“How about we get back to work and stop the damn chit chat, maybe then we’d get home in time for dinner” the men stood silent as Joel turned back to where he was.
The drive home was silent until Joel’s beeper went off. Tommy looked over seeing Joel adjust himself in his seat.
“You in a rush to be somewhere?”
“Got plans”
Tommy smirked knowing those plans were with you, especially having Sarah stay at her friend’s house tonight.
“Whatchu guys doin’ tonight? Just some fun or-“
“None of your damn business”
“Hey, Joel relax. We’re brothers, we’re good, we can talk about this”
“No, no we can’t” he looked at the road ahead in silence thinking over what he overheard at work. A part of him aching to confront him about it, while the other half fought to ignore it. He promised you he wouldn’t let it get to him. But Tommy could see it, the tension on him as he stared at the road ahead of what he had heard but he wouldn’t give in.
“Aren’t cha gonna ask me?” Tommy peaked over at him as he drove
“Ask ya what?” Joel responded low.
“If I was talkin’ bout ya girl before”
“Stop while you’re ahead” he warned just as Tommy pulled up into the driveway.
“Look it’s nothin’ personal, sometimes we talk about the women we’ve had and-“ Joel stepped out of the car slamming the door shut.
You heard Joel’s truck just outside your window. The excitement you felt whenever you knew he returned home, excitedly you walked out the front door to see him walking towards your front yard. But your smile instantly dropped when you saw his face, you knew something was wrong.
“Oh come on, Joel. It ain’t that serious” you looked over to see Tommy by the truck calling out to him. Awkwardly you stood there when you and Tommy locked eyes. The second Joel saw him staring at you he walked faster towards you.
“Come on, get inside” he whispered, his hands finding your waist gently pushing you back into the door.
“What happened?” You whispered looking up at him.
“Nothin’, just get inside” you did as he asked hearing him slam the door shut behind him after you both walked in. He looked agitated, even if he didn’t want to admit it, you knew him very well.
“Baby, what’s wrong” you whispered gently caressing his face, he looked down at you for a moment silently. You could tell he was thinking something but he wouldn’t say what. In that moment Joel was having intrusive thoughts, thoughts bought upon his brother. The thought of his brother touching you in ways he was only ever meant to. His mind once again thinking of that night that he walked in to the house with your moans echoing down the hall. Now, thanks to Tommy with more visuals. Joel knew you loved him but his jealousy was tearing into him deeper and deeper. How rough was Tommy with you? Did you want him to be more rough with you?
Joel suddenly grabbed your face and kissed you in a way he never had. You squealed stumbling backwards before feeling his hand on your lower back pulling you against him.
“Joel..” you whispered a bit confused as he kissed your neck. He moved aggressively, abruptly picking you up and sitting you on your desk.
“Joel wait-“ his hand grabbing a chunk of your hair, tugging at it harder than he ever had. You gasped as he held your head in place, his lips parting from yours, he stopped and looked down at you for just a moment.
“Is this how ya like it?” He whispered as you stared up at him confused.
“I-“
“Tell me” he demanded. You didn’t understand where this was coming from.
“Is this what had you screamin’ in that room with him?” His brows furrowed as you abruptly pushed him back making him let go of your hair.
“Excuse me?!” You jumped down from the desk walking towards him.
“Is that what this is about?!”
“What, from what I hear you like it a little rough” it was as if he wasn’t himself speaking to you. Anger in his eyes he let his emotions get the best of him.
“You promised you’d never-“
“Yeah I know” he cut you off coldly.
“Get out” you whispered looking away. Embarrassed by the whole situation, never had you regretted something so much. He didn’t move for a moment, for just a second he felt guilt. He didn’t like speaking to you this way, he hated seeing you upset.
“Get out!” You screamed.
Joel more angry at himself than anything walked out slamming the door shut.
“Hey you’re back early” Tommy grinned as Joel walked in.
“Get outta my way” Joel uttered under his breath before walking past him angrily and into his room. Tommy raised his brows wondering what happened, apart of him pleased to see some kind of tension between you two.
Tommy went to his room, enjoying his drink he began looking for one of his magazines he always loved to take a look at after a long day until he looked past his window. Taking a double look, he realized he could see you walking into your bedroom. You seemed upset but quickly brushed away any tears. Curiously he continued to watch and that’s when you began to take off your clothes. Tommy took a step closer, he watched as you walked around the bedroom in your bra, a smirk on his face when Joel suddenly opened the door. Tommy’s face instantly dropping the second Joel appeared. Joel instantly noticing the smirk on Tommy’s face just a second before.
“You don’t knock?” Tommy turned away from the window casually walking to his desk.
“What were ya lookin’ at?” Joel furrowed his brows knowing damn well what was outside of his window.
“Nothin’ man just-“ Joel walked into the room, his boots loudly hitting the floor when he noticed you, clear as day through your window. Taking your ear rings off and letting your hair loose, he could see you in your bra not having a clue you were being watched.
Tommy began to laugh nervously.
“Look, Joel.. it ain’t my fault-“
“You watchin’ my girl undress?” Joel turned to him, the thought of his brother or any man trying to take a look at you this way made him feel…territorial. Tommy stood silent, he knew that look his brother had..he knew exactly what it meant.
“Joel, I ain’t see nothin’” he walked backwards as Joel slowly walked towards him. Built up resentment he could no longer hold inside.
“Come on, man, if we’re being real….its not like it’s nothing I haven’t already seen” and with that, Joel blacked out.
After changing out of your clothes and putting on a robe you suddenly heard your doorbell going off.
“What the hell?” You came running down the stairs to see Joel through the window.
“What the hell is wrong with you-“ you opened the door ready to scream, ready to argue when you noticed a bloody lip and raw knuckles.
“Joel” you whispered he stared down at you out of breath.
“Look, I’m sorry for what I said. I’m sorry for hating the idea of any man having had you let alone…my damn brother-“ you could hear the desperation in his voice.
“You’re mine and-“ he shook his head as if he was trying to find the right words to say.
“I can’t stand the idea of anyone else touchin’ ya, dammit. If that makes me a jerk then I’m sorry” you couldn’t help but attempt to hold back a smile.
“The hell ya smilin’ at?”
“I’m sorry, it’s not funny. I just-wow…I didn’t know you could be this jealous. Listen, I’m really sorry about all of this, Joel. It’s a tricky situation” you gently took hold of his arm and pulled him in the house.
“I don’t wanna fight” you whispered.
“Neither do I” he assured you.
“Look at you” you thumb gently going over his bloody lip.
“Yeah that was-“ he looked away ashamed.
“Tommy and his damn mouth”
“Ignore him”
“Kinda hard to do that, especially with you and ya damn blinds being open-“
“What?” You looked up at him confused.
“He saw you in your bra-“
“Oh shit!” You shook your head.
“I completely forgot I took my wooden blinds off to buy new ones. I was suppose to get them today”
“I’ll get em and have em up for ya, tomorrow”
You could tell Joel wasn’t gonna take no for an answer and simply nodded.
“Got it” you smiled and took him to the kitchen to help clean him up.
“Well…is he ok?” You hesitated to ask as you put a bag of ice to his lip.
“Didn’t leave him to bad, we’re fine though…just needed to-“
“Let it out?” You raised a brow. Joel took a deep breath with a nod before you gently took his face and kissed him softly on his forehead.
Sorry about the tags, for some reason it gave me an issue to tag anyone here.
💬 41 🔁 112 ❤️ 1634 · [SUMMARY: Joel and you have a close friendship until Sarah’s mother returns and he rudely pushes you away. He never k
💬 24 🔁 32 ❤️ 531 · [SUMMARY: Joel deals with his jealousy as Tommy and you get more serious.]
PART TWO to my last reblog!!
Smut, drama,
💬 3 🔁 9 ❤️ 194 · [SUMMARY: Joel deals with the consequences of sleeping with you, not knowing that Tommy already knows.
PART 3 (first 2
Blurb: Joel comes over for dinner but disaster strikes when secrets are discovered.
Warnings: 18+, sexually explicit, use of Daddy and other pet names, age gap, and slight violence.
Authors note: It’s been a while since I’ve written anything but inspiration struck and I wrote this silly little blurb to ease back in to things. Enjoy :)
Main Masterlist
- - -
Tonight marks two months of sneaking around with your dads best friend.
Two months of lying about plans, sneaking out of Joel’s house at the ass crack of dawn, and crawling back through your bedroom window before your parents wake up.
So far, your web of lies hasn’t been tangled and no one suspects a thing. Both of you have been diligent about covering your tracks and avoiding slip ups.
Tonight you set the dinner table with your mom, nonchalant, though listening around the corner as your dad greets his buddy Joel Miller at the door and welcomes him in for dinner.
“The hell happened to you man” your dad asks Joel as he ushers him inside, questioning him about something you can’t see.
Joel answers with a nervous cough but recovers quickly. “Rough day at work, some idiot wasn’t paying attention.”
You play it cool when Joel rounds the corner, joining the cozy dining room behind your father.
Your eyes immediately note the faint purple bruise on the side of his neck, just below where his dark stubble ends.
Shit.
Joel’s eyes find you immediately, an “I told you so” simmering in their depths.
Your face heats and your eyes dart to the floor, nervously tucking a stray stand of hair behind your ear.
You wear your hair up tonight, tendrils framing your face but swept back back into a a ponytail that exposes the length of your neck.
A ponytail like the one Joel had wrapped around his fist and yanked back on less than 24hours ago while he was fucking you deep into the mattress, sweaty and hard.
Growling filthy, toe curling, atrocities in your ear the entire time.
“Come on angel, ” he rasped between labored breaths as he thrusted into you, “tell daddy how good it feels.”
“Fucky, daddy,” you whined into the pillow, voice punctuated by each snap of his hips into you, “so fucking good. I’m so wet, give me more, more, more,” you pleaded until he unloaded into you before collapsing into the sheets together, legs tangled, bodies sweaty and heart rate thundering.
You snap out of your flashback.
Currently, the four of you gather around the table, plates stacked high with a lovely dinner, potatoes, veggies, and a steaming hot roast.
Dutifully, you bow your head and close your eyes as your dad says the prayer, thanking his God for the meal and welfare of his family.
“Amen” you say, like the good girl you are, in unison with everyone else as the prayer comes to an end.
“Daddy, can you pass me the salt?” You say, nodding toward the shakers out your reach.
Your dad reaches for the salt.
So does Joel.
Their fingers brush, coming into contact as they each try to grab the small salt shaker.
Your stomach drops.
Joel stops breathing, freezing in place as he realizes his mistake.
Your dad blinks and you watch as the realization strikes. First, confusion pulls between his brows. Then his eyes dart from Joel’s big brown eyes to yours. Then finally he looks back at the suspiciously small bruise on the side of Joel’s neck. That’s when your father’s face reddens and eyes go wide.
Your mothers fork clatters loudly as it drops onto her plate, the sound piercing the now silent room.
Oh, shit.
Joel’s hand go up, palms facing you father across the table from him, as he attempts to keep the peace. Before he can come up with an explanation your father interjects.
“What the fuck is that on your neck Joel” your father asks, pointing at the now obvious hickey on his neck as he stands up from the table.
Joel rises from his own seat to meet him in stature.
“I told you it happened at work”
“Don’t give me that bullshit Joel” your dad says louder now, hands clenching.
You and your mother watch in silent, awkward horror.
Then your dad’s stare pins you next.
“Didn’t we raise you better than this,” he spits, voice booming. “Running around behind our backs like a tramp. Whoring yourself off to someone old enough to be your fucking father!”
The raised voice and vile language raise Joel’s hackles. He steps ever so slightly infront of you, his body a ready barrier between you and your father.
“Baby” Joel says to you calmly, eyes trained on your father, “why don’t you take your momma into the other room. We’ve got some things to settle.”
You and your mother barely make it out of your seats before your father flies across the table, that pet name his final straw.
Plates clatter, drinks spill, and vegetables go flying across the table and floors of the dining room as the two men collide.
Joel takes a surprise first to the jaw but his sturdy build and sheer mass eat the punch before he throws himself at your father.
As the two of them begin to brawl, your mother wails in shock at the disaster unfolding.
And despite the poor timing, your stomach growls and you can’t help but mourn the fact that you didn’t even get to taste the mashed potato’s tonight.
Summary: You and Joel make a mess of things—again.
Warnings: 18+. Unprotected p-in-v. Creampie. Age gap. Breeding kink. Period mishap / mentions of blood (!) Eepy Joel is eepy but always down to hit it raw 🤝 Omitting one tag to avoid spoiling the ending—for complete content warnings, please read this post!
Word count: 11.5k
Things changed.
You woke up snug in someone’s arms and didn’t move.
You couldn’t blame the warmth or the comfort of the bed—yours was a Twin XL, and your sheets were all tangled through your limbs in crude, haphazard fashion—for why you had. You just did. Like breathing, the decision not to leave this time around was as reflexive as it was freeing.
You buried your nose in an old, familiar neck and inhaled.
Joel.
Don’t go.
Please don’t go.
That voice was childlike and selfish: Don’t leave me here.
For once, you weren’t the one pushing him away; you were begging him to stay and let the scent of him linger on a little while longer in this too-small bed, in this too-cramped dorm, on this too-cold campus in a town over two thousand miles away from the one you called home.
He’d already spent every minute of the weekend here—Parents’ Weekend, of all things. After the initial shock and consternation of his surprise visit wore off and you’d finally had The Talk about what this thing between you was, you’d accepted that Joel loved you. You accepted that you loved him back. And not a second had passed since the end of that night where you didn’t want to be by his side. It hurt to think he’d be leaving you so soon, so of course, he’d offered to extend his stay to Monday.
The motel Joel had booked wouldn’t let him add an extra night, though, so that was how you ended up here: in the confines of your altogether new-and-nice-but-ridiculously-tiny dorm room that you shared with your roommate. Lucky for you, Aly had slept over at a friend’s. Unlucky for Joel, the only bed you had to offer him might as well have been built for a nine-year-old—his hulking frame nearly swallowed the whole thing, and his weight all but toppled the mattress off its risers. You’d only laughed your ass off a little when you saw it happen.
“Me and my old back need Tempur-Pedic, sweetheart,” he’d grumbled in your hair before drifting off to sleep.
“Tempur-Peepaw,” you’d murmured back, and could’ve sworn you felt his grip tighten while you nodded off too.
Now, your gaze was darting to the only source of light in the room—a digital clock between your bed and Aly’s.
5:11 A.M.
Why the fuck were you awake?
Your stomach hurt. Your head ached. You could’ve easily attributed both to the heaping plates of seafood you’d downed with Joel, Aly, and her family the night before. Dallas had picked the last place you went out to eat, and of course, his choice was fucked. While he swore up and down that this was the spot for him and his friends, the rest of you were wary of how hygienic the restaurant’s practices were. You all had felt a little queasy afterward.
But no, this wasn’t nausea you were feeling right now. It was worse, almost. There was a churning in your gut, an airiness in your head, and a searing warmth between your legs, too hot for even your box fan to combat.
You swallowed hard and stared into the darkness.
Were you…
No, no you were not.
No way were you horny at 5 AM.
But you most definitely were.
You hated yourself for it.
You kicked your foot in that muted self-loathing and huffed—you couldn’t move much else with Joel’s body blanketing yours. But you stirred what you could. It wasn’t fucking fair. You knew yourself, and you knew your body, and you would bet a million bucks that this feeling wouldn’t ebb until you’d thoroughly fucked yourself or someone else to a toe-curling, earth-shattering climax. In the next fifteen minutes.
Joel was fast asleep.
Your hands were currently plastered to your sides under the weight of one of the man’s big, tanned, hairy arms, and you didn’t have a hope of moving it more than an inch without waking him. Your gut twisted in despair.
I. WANT. TO. FUCK.
“Shut up,” you silently chided the fiend between your two shaking, slick thighs. And—oh fuck, were they wet.
This was like your own personal hell, not having access to the release you so desperately needed. Not having Joel to roll over with a knowing, crooked grin and a ‘Missin’ me already, honey?’ before a hand dove under the waistband of his boxers to retrieve what you wanted.
No, he needed to sleep.
He had a two-day drive back to Texas, and it would be unspeakably selfish for you to ask for dick right now.
But you needed reprieve from this awful feeling.
You’d rub your legs together. Dull the ache. Take a worn edge of your comforter and hump the thing like the world was ending today. That wouldn’t be weird.
It also wouldn’t be possible, you learned within minutes.
Try as you might to grind your hips and your desperate cunt through cotton without disturbing the man beside you, you quickly realized that the effort was fruitless: you couldn’t make a single seesaw motion back-and-forth without shaking the whole fucking bed. The old thing creaked and screamed worse than the one in the motel.
While need blossomed in your belly and your head swam with unsated desire, your mind hummed with new ideas.
Stupid ideas.
You shifted in place. Joel grunted and hugged you closer. Ordinarily, your heart would’ve melted at the gesture, but in your present bearings, with these pressing urges, you wanted nothing more than to push it straight off. The thought was slowly taking shape in your mind’s eye that maybe you could pull this off—perhaps you could get off without Joel’s noticing if you just…slid down.
If you slunk under his bicep and ever-so delicately pulled your right arm out from underneath his ribs, if you got his leg to stop draping so heavily over your thigh, you could slide down further. Try not to jostle him much.
It was doable.
With the right maneuvering, you could sneak off the bed.
Pleasure beckoned. Success was well within reach when you scooted your butt down the mattress and past the python-grip of Joel’s upper body. Before you knew it, your ass was gliding down, down, down, and then your torso was twisting, your knees shakily planting themselves closer to the foot of the bed. You sat up.
And as soon as you did, the first thing that greeted you through the darkened room was a wide, toothy grin.
“Climb on then, cowgirl,” came Joel’s gravelly invitation.
In the otherwise biting chill of the room, you felt your cheeks burn a hundred degrees. Your stomach flipped.
“You’re supposed to be asleep,” you hissed back.
Those words were followed by a little smack to his arm. Joel took the hit in stride and simply stretched both hands behind his head on the pillow, eyeing you lazily.
“I was. ‘Til you started humpin’ my leg like a dog.”
“I did not.”
Your nostrils flared, and your words nearly rose to a whisper-scream. You still couldn’t make out Joel’s expression in the dark but sensed that it was smug.
“Did too.”
“Did n—”
“Baby, this was what the bed just felt like.”
To illustrate his point, Joel rocked his hips the tiniest bit. With the force of two thrusts, the whole frame screeched like a banshee. It seemed you’d been too horny to hear it.
“That’s not—” you started, voice tight.
“Just admit it. You needed to cum.”
He might as well have stuck his tongue out after.
You would’ve been irked beyond words if you’d had half a mind to channel the feeling. As it was, though, your brain was fried off a fucking need like no other, and your limbs were driven on pure impulse. You couldn’t be bothered to carry on this petty fight with your peri-geriatric partner right now; you needed release. So, hanging your head in shame for no longer than a moment, and working your panties down your legs while you did, you finally nodded.
The movement was slight. You’d only tipped your chin up once before those instinct-driven limbs were clambering quick to straddle Joel’s lap. He was lying supine on the bed, but you couldn’t see much else. You felt his smile stretch bigger as you lowered yourself onto him, though.
He was tired, you could tell. You normally weren’t one to rebuff an offer to have Joel inside you, no matter the hour, but this felt greedier than usual. You felt needy.
Which was why you didn’t immediately reach for the bulge in his boxers when you’d first mounted him.
Instead, you reached to touch yourself.
You were soaked as you’d ever been.
“I— I can get myself off in a minute,” you found yourself stammering out the second your index and middle fingers connected with your wet, throbbing clit.
And it was true. The sensations you felt were so sharp they almost stung, with sparks igniting across your lower half in just one brush against that pulsing bud. You’d scarcely completed one circuit with your fingers when Joel’s hands were gliding up to find your hips, grip firm.
He swiftly adjusted your seat. Made you rub him harder.
Amusement tinged his voice while he mumbled, low:
“Only place you’re gettin’ off is my cock, got that?”
You hated how quickly you nodded in response.
Okay. He was letting you be selfish. He wanted to help quell your thirst, no matter how early it was or how long of a drive he had. That realization only made you wetter.
You were practically dripping between the legs when Joel slid his boxers down and let his cock spring free.
You knew what to do. You didn’t need his assistance, but still, ever the caretaker, Joel palmed your backside with one hand and held the base of his cock with the other. He guided your heat to his tip, and in the dim, dull gloom of your dorm room, you could feel him watching. What his eyes couldn’t see his mouth elucidated in words.
“You ready for me, baby?”
He nudged just the head between your weeping folds and let you take the lead. You whimpered. “Yes, daddy.”
Desperate as you were, you didn’t wait for the right moment to move. You didn’t bother readying yourself, because you already knew what you needed. You sank down, and your walls parted without protest. You took him in and gripped him tight and all but choked Joel’s length with the soft, hot, and needy clutch of your body.
“Fuck, honey—”
“Feels so good,” you panted, lips parting as he filled you. You rolled your hips and whimpered again. “So— oh—.”
Your words split on a shriek. You hadn’t even meant to let it out, but the stretch of Joel’s girth felt unusually tough. It almost hurt. But, rather than shy away, you leaned into it. You braced your knees and bore down harder, relishing the sting of his throbbing cock as you slid up and then collapsed again. Pleasure surged through your veins.
The bed groaned and creaked. Your motions didn’t slow. Joel grunted, feeling you clench again, and in an effort to curtail his own need, evidently, starting kneading at the flesh of your thighs. He moved them inward, touch soft.
“Hon,” he breathed, tone just as gentle, “you’re soaked.”
You were restless, too. You anchored your knees a little deeper and leaned back, allowing Joel access to the space between your thighs that was sticky-wet with residue. He swept his fingers through your nectar and thumbed at your clit. You whined with hypersensitivity.
You felt delicate everywhere. Joel was so big inside you, stretching your most precious, sensitive parts and making room for himself. He was throbbing. Leaking. Reaching up and smearing your own wetness across your face while a grin no doubt spread across his own—‘There’s a good girl. Ride my cock. Take what you need, baby’—and you could tell he was just as invested in your pleasure as you were, if not more. He relished whatever remnants of your arousal he could find and praised you with it. You wished you could see him while he did it all.
If light wouldn’t allow you that view, you would take matters into your own hands, you quickly decided. Prying your lower half off of Joel with a grunt and a sigh, you squeezed his legs. You patted his thighs, gently.
“Need you closer,” you mumbled. Your hands slid up his front, and you smiled when you felt him snag your wrists.
Joel pulled you up. Kissed your palms. Kissed your cheeks. Drew you into his lips and, at the same time, flipped you over so that he was on top. His shaft was slippery as it bumped and rubbed between your folds, and you couldn’t help but let out a moan into his mouth.
“Where do you want me, sweetheart?” he said, panting.
In answer, you took the base of his cock in one hand and guided it closer to your center. Joel rutted his hips, and his length pushed up—it glided across your lower belly, smearing the plane of skin with your combined fluids.
He was teasing you. Canting his hips as if fucking someplace deep in your cunt. Biting back a laugh.
“You dick,” you breathed out, both a warning and a momentary reprieve from the severity of wanting.
You gripped his cheek with the same hand that had just held his length and drew him closer to your face. You kissed him and wrapped your legs around his hips, knowing the effect it would have. Joel grunted.
And, though you knew it would amuse him to no end to have you begging for his cock, you also guessed that he wasn’t quite as resilient as he made himself out to be. He couldn’t keep grinning forever—the second your legs nudged him back and the tip of his dick notched in, again, he moaned in pleasure. It ended in a whimper.
Joel was just as fucked-out and desperate as you.
You couldn’t see his full expression, but you could sense it would show he was right on the brink, same as you.
You kissed him deeply. You let his length glide back inside your needy cunt, squeezing every inch of the way.
“Gonna cum for daddy now? Make a mess of this cock?”
In a breath, you could tell he was already there. His balls began slapping rhythmically against your ass, and his stomach muscles clenched. Tufts of grey and black in that thatch of wiry hair at his base kept rubbing your mound, prompting you to squirm and beg for more.
“I-I’m close, Joel,” you told him. Your toes curled.
The bed frame all but shrieked beneath the weight of your body and his, now that Joel was on top and delivering thrusts hard and fast. You braced yourself.
If the bed broke, it broke. You’d gladly pay to have it fixed. Explaining the unusual charge on your student account to your dad was a separate question, though.
“Fuck,” you keened, just as a stroke to your most sensitive spot inside had stars flashing before your eyes.
“Right there,” Joel grunted, going again. “Just like that.”
His forearms bracketed your head, and his face was close. His thrusts were relentless. The little tendril of pleasure coiling up through your gut was just then beginning to take root—two more thrusts and it felt fit to burst. Your arms wound around the back of his neck, and your breaths sped up while Joel kept plunging in and out
In and out.
In and out.
“Gonna let me cum inside?” Joel grit through his teeth.
You nodded, braindead as you’d ever felt before.
“Gonna let me breed this pretty little cunt?”
Oh, fuck.
You came. You didn’t have a say in the matter. It simply swelled and flowed and expelled like a water’s stream, coating the front of Joel’s stomach and your own as well. Your eyes rolled, stomach clenched, walls pulsed and squeezed and flooded your whole body with pleasure.
At the tail end of the sensation, and only dimly grazing your present cognition, you felt his spend unload in ropes. They painted your insides and sent your head spinning, half-feral with the idea of him marking you in this risky, forbidden way. You wanted him spurting so far up your body you could taste him in your mouth. Your hips rolled one more time and your lips brushed with his.
“I— I love you. Fuck, I fucking love you,” Joel groaned.
His cum continued to pulse out from his tip.
“I love you, too,” you panted back.
When Joel collapsed, you feared the bed might split right down the middle with the force of it. Dizzy with pleasure, bliss, and more love than you thought was possible for just one person, you didn’t worry for long. You stroked the back of Joel’s head, silently thanked the bed frame for lasting as long as it had, and inhaled the man’s scent.
It was gonna hurt like a motherfucker when he left.
You weren’t going to think about that now.
Instead, you locked your legs tight around his hips and held him as close as you could. The head of his cock nudged somewhere deep inside you, and his face tilted sideways. Joel nuzzled your cheek. He kissed it softly.
“You alright, honey?” he checked in.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” It wasn’t a total lie.
You felt as content as you could be laying between the soaked sheets of your bed with Joel draped overtop. For several minutes, you did just that: laid back and emptied your head of any thoughts of leaving. You hugged him. Buried your face in the crook of his neck and sighed.
Alright, get up.
Go to the bathroom.
It’s 6 AM and you’re about to cry.
Attempting to get out from under Joel and off the bed proved futile—you would’ve had better luck punching a hole through a brick wall—but luckily, he eased up. He let you stand from the bed once he decided he’d doled out a sufficient number of kisses, then you rose on shaky legs.
You flicked on the light. You rubbed your too-tired eyes.
And just as you were about to scour the floor for some clothes and get ready to head outside, you heard a strangled sort of noise from the bed. You paused.
Joel cleared his throat.
“Hey, uh, honey…”
You turned.
FUCK.
Your bed looked like a crime scene. Joel was trying to sit up, though it seemed he wasn’t quite sure where to put his hands, as half the fucking mattress and sheets were all but soaked through with blood. Your stomach turned.
No. No. Your period wasn’t due for another two days. You hadn’t been caught off guard with a bloody mess like this in years. And in front of Joel? All over Joel, from his groin to his chest to his neck to his chin—you’d been touching him a lot in the dark—and now he was looking on at you in muted horror? You didn’t want to know what you looked like. You wanted to hurl yourself out of the window, if it meant you didn’t have to face the repercussions of this. Joel must be disgusted.
“I am…so sorry.” Your words came out mostly muffled through your fingers. Your hands shielded your face.
Before you could think, you were stumbling toward the sink. Your eyes were burning. He’s leaving. He’s leaving now, in an hour or two, and the last thing he’ll have to remember you by is your menstrual blood on his dick.
Just shoot me.
Make it quick.
“Sweetheart?”
Again, Joel’s voice was soft as he approached from behind. You had a hand towel thrust under a spray of water that was slowly going warm, and your bottom lip was clamped between your teeth. Your fingers trembled.
“Baby…” He said it like a harsher-spoken word might fairly split you in two. That only made you feel worse.
You still weren’t thinking completely straight when you yanked the towel out, wrung it once, and then turned to Joel, almost smacking him in the belly with it as you did.
Scrubbing his blood-smeared tummy seemed like the most logical course of action to take in the moment, so that was what you did. It was just that small matter of having your hands shaking so much you could hardly hold the towel that made it tricky. And Joel’s own warm, callused touch closing in over your fingers, squeezing.
“Hey, look at me,” he urged you gently. You wouldn’t, or couldn’t, so he tilted your chin up to his to make you meet his gaze and momentarily halt your motions.
His eyes were far too soft for a man drenched in blood and preparing to take a thirty-hour road trip that day.
The smile was too sweet for someone leaving you here.
“This is so embarrassing,” you blurted out, heart clenching. “I’ve— it’s never happened…like that.”
With a man, yes. On the person you love, even more so.
You were about to try and start scrubbing the blood again, wanting to rid yourself and him of this mess, when Joel’s smile stretched wider. It seemed almost like a grin.
“Honey, you’re fine,” he said, reassuring. Pressing at your wrist again. “It’s just a little blood. We can rinse off in the shower. Wash the sheets. No need to be embarrassed.”
Easier said than done.
Your brow furrowed.
“I’m sorry, Joel.”
The man in front of you took the towel from you then. He tossed the rag in the sink and cupped your likely-blood-smeared cheeks in his hands before meeting your gaze. His palms were warm. His eyes, as usual, were soft. Kind.
“You don’t have to apologize,” he said quietly.
With words like those and a look as serious as his, you couldn’t help but relent. Your muscles relaxed. In the glance you stole toward your floor-length mirror, you might’ve caught a glimpse of your own tousled, bloodied exterior for a second, but that memory didn’t last long.
Joel was reaching for a bigger towel. Wrapping you up. Grabbing another for himself and then nudging you over to the door, where you knew you’d need to sneak out and down the hallway to make it to the communal bathroom. Silently, you cursed yourself for opting to live on-campus that year, but there was nothing you could do about it now. Behind you, Joel secured a bright pink, polka-dotted towel around his hips and tried not to smirk.
“Never thought I’d be doin’ this again,” he murmured.
You shot him a look over your shoulder.
“Sneak out of any other girls’ dorms lately, Miller?”
Joel eyed you right back, undaunted.
“Yeah. About a decade before you were born.”
And neither one of you possessed the sense to control it: you had to laugh, and Joel had to elbow you playfully and tell you to respect your fuckin’ elders, kid, and your amusement only grew as you approached the door. His arm hooked around your neck before pulling your back against his chest. Your giggles turned to squeals as he nipped the skin just below your ear and kissed you in a manner more akin to tickling. You begged him to quit, but the grin on your face said you wanted it. Joel gripped the doorknob in his free hand and was about to pull it back, when the thing jumped forward, at you both.
The door opened, and light from the hallway poured in.
“Wh- oh! Hey. Woah. Hey.”
Dallas Ingram’s eyebrows shot to his hairline, but a smile was as quick to form. He eyed you both—up and down.
And almost as swift as his smirk was to appear:
“Gettin’ busy, huh?”
You stared back slack-jawed, covered in blood, and frankly wanting to die a little bit as your roommate’s brother looked on with the biggest, dumbest grin.
Evidently, your undercover skills needed some work.
Despite your best efforts all weekend, Dallas had come to learn that you and Joel weren’t actually stepdaughter and stepfather by the end of breakfast early Saturday morning, and it wasn’t because his sister had snitched. He’d seen Joel smack your ass en route to the bathroom in the dining hall and swiftly surmised that there was more to the story than either one of you were letting on.
He hadn’t been shocked to find you and Joel in your dorm that morning after Aly had asked him to stop by and pick up her gym bag, but he had seemed relatively intrigued by the blood. He’d asked if you and Joel had been fighting or fucking—or both—and you’d rolled your eyes so hard they’d nearly hit the back of your skull. Joel had looked like he either wanted to deck the kid or laugh with him. You suspected by the smirk that ensued it was probably the latter. His face had still flushed a little bit.
Now you were showered, dressed, decently groomed, equipped with enough tampons and pads to supply a city, and perched in the passenger seat of Joel’s Bronco.
“Take a left in half a mile. Onto Kirkland,” you dictated.
Joel squinted to see your phone screen.
“That ain’t right,” he replied.
He made a pass for the phone. You pulled it out of reach.
“I know where I’m going, Joel,” you said, directing his gaze back to the road. “I’m here every other weekend.”
“I’ve been here, too. You go straight on Prescott, take a right by the bank, keep going past the food trucks—”
“No, no, this is Putnam. You’ve got it all fucked up.”
You pointed out a street sign as if to say, ‘See?’
“That ain’t the same one we saw comin’ in.”
“It is. Open your eyes and maybe we’d—”
“My vision’s just fine, kid. Seriously—”
“Seriously? We’ve been circling!”
“It’s called finding the right—”
“—HERE, RIGHT HERE—”
“That ain’t th—”
“Miller!”
The Bronco barreled right past Kirkland Street, along with the diner the two of you had been trying to find for the last twenty minutes. Every time the navigation on your phone had directed you one step closer to the spot, Joel had insisted that his memory served him better.
It hadn’t.
You missed your turn for what felt like the fiftieth time that day, and you were one wide, jerky U-turn away from just throwing yourself out of the moving vehicle. That was how bad Joel’s navigational skills and your level of frustration were at the moment. Add to that a stabbing pain in your stomach and you were truly ready to jump.
Joel cut the wheel and headed back in that direction.
“‘M’sorry,” he said. He glanced your way, where your knees were pulling up to your chest on a particularly tough cramp, and he reached for you. Squeezed your leg. “I’m sorry. That was on me. I should’ve…listened to you.”
“No shit.”
You winced—in pain and in shame for sounding so mean.
“I mean,” you returned, quickly recovering yourself. “Sorry. I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have yelled like that.”
Watching Joel’s side profile, you saw his lips twitch.
“‘S’alright. I like you feisty.”
You bit your tongue.
Sure, he did.
You were just then pulling into the parking lot of your favorite brunch spot in town, and the air outside was cold. The tips of your toes still prickled at the memory of a crisp, frigid trek from your residence hall to the car, and for a moment, you dreaded going inside to eat at all. You wished your body had timed its monthly implosion a little better and your last hour with Joel wasn’t spent in half-agony and agitation, but that was life, you reckoned. With a resigned sigh, you reached for the door handle.
Your boots were back on the floor and about to heave your body out when Joel stopped you in your tracks.
“Wait here,” he murmured.
He motioned for you to stay.
You turned to ask why; the driver’s side door was already slamming shut behind him. Through the windshield, you saw his broad, hunched form round the front of the car. He paused a moment to draw his jacket tighter about himself, and shortly sidled up and swung your door open.
He offered his hand to help you out of the Bronco.
Then, to your surprise, he retracted it even faster.
His eyes had just landed somewhere inside and flashed with recognition, as if remembering something big. Joel reached in, past you, mumbling softly—‘Shit, I meant to give you these earlier. Forgot I even bought ‘em’—and he looked contrite. He opened the glove compartment and tugged out a box. Before you could try and ask what it was, Joel had its contents out. He stepped closer, casting a quick look over his shoulder and frowning.
“Here, why don’t you scoot over? I’m gettin’ you cold.”
He gestured to the wind overhead and moved in nearer like he meant to climb in. You slid across the bucket seat, not entirely sure of what he intended to do, but let him shut the door after himself again and go in all the same.
Shortly, Joel held up what looked to be a heating pad.
His gaze flitted to your stomach, and he nodded once.
“When I first got here you mentioned you were expectin’ your— your, uh…time of the month soon, so I went out and got these. Forgot I bought the pack of ‘em. ‘M’sorry.”
Joel’s frown grew, as if chastising himself. You blinked.
“If you just lift your shirt a bit…maybe tuck it right—” He pinched a belt loop to tug the denim out from your waist. “—under the band here. I don’t know if it’ll stick, but—”
His words trailed off in your mind—you’d caught a glimpse of what was stuffed in the glove box along with the heating pads, and you saw a trove of other items: Advil, chocolate, your favorite trail mix, saltines, jerky, fucking chamomile tea, like he knew exactly what you needed. All because you’d said in passing—actually, right before you’d begged him to finish inside you Friday night—that you were going to be starting your period soon.
And you’d just chewed the poor guy out for his driving.
You blinked some more, not saying a word because you didn’t know what else to tell him, and your throat ached.
Thank you for being sweet.
Sorry I’m so damn mean.
Please don’t leave me.
Slow, steady breaths warmed your cheeks, and a hand tugged your shirt up. Another touch smoothed the heating pad over your belly. Joel wriggled your waistband a second, trying to fit the thing snug underneath it, and all the while, you said nothing.
“I had to text my brother. That’s how clueless I was.”
Joel breathed a laugh. It was soft and sheepish. In contrast to how taciturn you were, he couldn’t seem to keep quiet—like filling the silence with words might make him feel less nervous or awkward about this.
“He’s been seeing this girl, Maria. Well, Tommy’s always been better’n me—much better, I’d say—with, y’know, bein’ in touch with his feminine side, I guess. He’s had more girls than me, friends and girlfriends alike. Anyway, I just needed all the help I could get buyin’ this stuff, and he and Maria gave me advice on what to do. I hope it—”
“Miller,” you cut in.
“Yeah?”
Your breath hitched.
“Have you ever…had a girlfriend?”
The words tumbled out before you could rein them in. Joel had just finished pressing the heating pad flat across your stomach and was pulling your shirt back down when his gaze jumped to yours. For several seconds, it was his turn to be silent, staring at you.
Your insides burned like you’d doused them in kerosene.
“I haven’t…really…” he started again, speaking slow.
Why the fuck were you doing this? Why now?
“Would you…want me to be your girlfriend?”
For whatever reason, your voice cracked.
You hated the sound of that with everything in you, but it was too late to stop the surge of word vomit coming out.
“Even if I’m…mean, and I’m needy, and I— I— I can’t—”
“Sweetheart.” Joel’s expression visibly softened.
“And I can’t show love like a normal person should. I don’t…know how to be good like that. Or receptive to affection. And just knowing that pisses me off so m—”
“You aren’t.”
“What?”
“Mean.”
“Wh—”
“Or needy.”
Joel’s gaze skated from your eyes to your lips, and in a fraction of a second, you could see something threaten to tempt his own. He looked back up instead, smoothed your hair out of your face, and then cupped your cheek.
“Kinda thought you already were my girlfriend, honey.”
It sounded like a confession and a stunt, almost—how could the man be so assured when a reality like that scarcely seemed plausible to you? He was fighting a smile as if he knew something you didn’t. He had to.
“And I love you, you know that?” He said it gently.
You blinked.
You still weren’t used to hearing it.
“You do?” Your voice was small for some reason.
For some reason, it was like you were a child all over again, wishing your father would reach out and hug you sometimes. Approaching adolescence and missing your mother. You’d never felt it, much less heard it from the mouth of someone else in a way that seemed weightless. Joel said it like loving you was as easy as drawing breath.
Then he said it again:
“I love you, sweetheart.”
You said it back, and meant it.
You said it another time while strolling hand-in-hand into the diner. Felt it rumble through Joel’s chest when you took your spot beside him in a booth by the window. Heard it in his tone. Sensed it with his looks. Tasted it on his lips, if only for the briefest of moments while you sat and picked out breakfast together. Your knuckles brushed and your shoulders bumped with damn near every other bite of the meal, but neither of you minded. There was comfort and security in every touch. There was home, and then there was Joel—even though Austin would stay 2,000 miles away as long as you stayed here, he was all you needed to feel safe and content right now.
You didn’t want him to leave.
Back on campus, standing in the parking lot behind the dorms, you told him as much. You hadn’t cared how sad or desperate it made you seem—you were those things—and when Joel hugged you tight, you didn’t regret saying it. He held you close and kissed the crown of your head.
And when it was time for him to leave, you could tell he couldn’t help himself when he leaned down even lower, lips grazing the shell of your ear. Grinning. You felt him.
You heard the words he’d murmured but almost couldn’t believe what he said when he’d said it. You’d discussed it some over eggs and cheesy grits that morning, but still.
It was scary.
Unsettling.
Maybe exactly what you needed, judging by that smile on his face when he finally leaned back and pulled away.
“Just…think about it, OK?” he said, tone encouraging, “We can take this as slow or as fast as you wanna go.”
You nodded that you would.
You knew this could wait.
But still, as you headed back inside and waved the Bronco off for another long spell of time apart—your boyfriend was going home, and taking a piece of you with him—your muscles tensed. Your stomach stirred with uncertainty just shy of a pain, and it wasn’t your cramps that you could reasonably blame this on now.
Your steps were slower; your legs were leaden. The impression of Joel’s last words were still fresh in your mind, and though the prospect was thrilling in some ways, in others it chilled you to your core. While you walked, his words echoed again and again and again:
“I’m ready to tell your dad whenever you are.”
Time passed, and the days wore on.
One minute he’d had you wrapped in his arms, and now you were gone. Every day. It felt like a weight, though nothing, no one, was there, and Joel found himself loathing it more and more with each passing day.
He called your phone more often than he should.
Without a doubt, you had a busy life in college. Finals were drawing close on the horizon, you had at least five different projects and essays and whatever the hell else those fuckass professors decided assigning last minute, and Joel wasn’t too much of a jealous man, but he also craved your time. Your touch. Your voice. When distance deprived him of your presence, he sought any means to be with you, even if it meant looking lame and pathetic.
He was.
He worked evenings. Whenever he saw your name pop up on his phone screen, he’d walk out on just about any task he had and take your call. He kept the old device in his breast pocket just so he could feel you when you did.
Joel Miller was in way too fucking deep, and he knew it.
So, in an effort to curb the fixation, he took to housework during the day. Real, manual labor. It wasn’t for his own home but his granddad’s, and it had been something he’d promised to do for years—him and Tommy both.
The old man had been gone for over a decade now, but the home had stayed in the family. It was in a constant state of disrepair, rarely saw a hint of human life outside of the occasional visit from either brother just to ‘go and check the place out,’ but he and Tommy knew they’d have to do something about it soon. Inspiration just hadn’t struck for what that ‘something’ might be.
Today he was cutting grass. Cleaning out gutters. Pulling weeds—lots and lots of weeds, the sheer mass of which he hadn’t been able to fathom at first glance of the yard.
And he felt a little guilty for just how bad he’d let this place get over the years. The fact that it had taken him an all-out infatuation with a girl he couldn’t get his head or heart off of just to haul his ass over here and work.
Something rustled in the bushes. Joel groaned.
And just as he was about to cup his hands around his mouth and shout, ‘GET THE HELL OFF’A MY PROPERTY!’ you called. He picked right up.
But he couldn’t help the huff in his voice on ‘Hello?’
“Everything alright?” You sounded confused.
“‘M’fine. Just tired of fighting this beast.”
“Beast! What beast?”
“This fuckin’ rat.”
He heard you pause, as if trying to recall when the last time you’d seen a rat yourself, and then you laughed.
Joel momentarily brightened at the sound of it.
“Yeah? Is my big, strong man scared of Stuart Little?”
And then his frown was back. He nearly rolled his eyes.
“I am not,” he returned in protest. He stalked over to the bushes where the sounds had just come from, and he shook a few errant branches. Hard. “Go on, get out!”
“Alright, I’ll go.”
Joel could hear your chuckle through the line. He didn’t need to see your face to know it had broken into a grin.
“Funny. Y’ever consider bein’ a comedian, sweetheart?”
“I’ve toyed with the idea. Now what the hell have you got going on with a rodent on your granddad’s property?”
“It ain’t a rodent.”
Another pause.
“Well, what’s—”
Joel didn’t hear the rest. He’d just shook the bush as hard as he could, and out flew the beast he’d been after. It scrambled on its paws and hightailed it across the yard
“AND STAY OUT!” he yelled after it.
Now you were invested. Your stifled giggling had turned to queries—‘What the fuck are you doing, Miller? What is it?!’—and Joel scarcely had the energy to answer. His back hurt. Hell, it ached. And his knees weren’t doing so hot either. At length, he turned to face wherever that damn critter had gotten off to, and he squinted out into the mid-afternoon sun. It was cold, but his efforts had worn him out. Warmed him up. He’d broken a sweat.
“It’s just…a dog,” he heaved at last.
A little gasp sounded through the phone.
“A puppy?!” you squealed. “Joel, you bastard!”
Joel scowled. He wished you could see it.
“Why am I a bastard? She’s trespassin’.”
“It’s a goddamn dog, Miller! C’mon.”
The man wasn’t sure what he was supposed to say to that. Yes, it was a dog. A yellow blond beast of a thing that tore out and around the farmlands like he owned every acre of it and shit exclusively in his backyard. He’d stomped through four big, soggy gifts of this kind in the last week alone. He was sick of the thing, and determined to find out who she belonged to.
“Is she OK?”
Your voice was soft. Joel had to do a double take.
“OK? ‘Course she’s OK, she’s got a big, pretty yard to drop shits in, a loud and yappy bark to wake the whole—”
“Food, I mean. Has she eaten? Is she coming back?”
Now Joel really had to take a beat. Were you sympathizing with the beast he so despised?
He put a hand on his hip. He winced, instantly, feeling a strain in his back the size of Texas itself. He slowly lowered the hand and started off to the house.
“I don’t think you’re hearin’ me. This creature is ruining my property. My grandfather’s property—just soilin’ it.”
“Because you and your brother have done such a bang-up job of keeping that place fit for human habitation.”
“Hey,” Joel huffed, “I’m tryin’. Been here all week.”
“I know.” You took a second yourself. Probably smiled. “I’m just teasing. I’m glad you’re out there to fix it up.”
Then, before he could reply, you were jumping back in:
“So, what are you thinking of naming her?”
By now, Joel was approaching the back porch. The toe of one boot had just struck the bottom step, all molded, old, and rotten straight down to the tufts of grass below. He halted in place and shifted his phone to the other ear.
He frowned deeply.
“What do you mean, ‘what am I naming her’?”
“All that screamin’ and hollerin’ you’re bound to do while you try and evict this poor thing from your property. Might as well give her a name if you’re gonna yell.”
“You yell at me plenty and rarely use my name.”
“That’s not true. I do use your name.”
“‘Dickhead’ doesn’t count.”
He was walking up the steps now. Hearing them groan and creak beneath the weight of his body and hoping the porch wouldn’t split in two before he reached the door.
“I’m serious, Miller,” you continued, unfazed. “Give her a name. Leave out some treats. Let her get comfortable enough to where you can check her collar, or else pick her up and take her to the shelter. See if she’s chipped.”
Joel didn’t have the heart to tell you that most dogs out here didn’t have little luxuries like microchipping, and the odds of finding this thing’s owner that way were slim to none, but he also just wanted to say something sweet. Ease your mind before changing the topic to more important things—like when you planned on coming home and how he could persuade you to make it a day or ten sooner. He heard the screen door slam shut behind him, and he was heading straight for the sofa. He sighed.
“Alright, sweet pea. Why don’t you think of some names for me, and I’ll start asking around the neighborhood if anyone knows whose she is. How does that sound?”
“I’ll need to meet her first,” you answered shortly.
“What?”
Joel dropped to the couch and kicked off his shoes. On the other end of the line, he heard shuffling, like you were preparing to relax a bit yourself. You cleared your throat.
“Yeah. Can’t fairly name a dog I haven’t even seen.”
“I’ll send you a picture if I catch the little shit.”
“Nope. Gotta be in person. You know that.”
“No, I don’t. And we ain’t keepin’ her.”
“We’ll see about that, dickhead.”
“Honey.”
That last word was both a term of endearment and a warning—‘We are not, under any circumstances adopting this dog.’ For some reason, as he said it, the protest already seemed futile on his lips. Like you weren’t hearing a syllable of what he was saying.
“Okaaaaay.”
“Sweetheart.”
Another warning. Another beat of silence.
Suddenly, his phone vibrated in his grip.
For a second, he was confused. Who the fuck would be texting him other than you? His brother and friends were all serial phone call fanatics—too Boomer-adjacent to use texts as a common form of communication. He pulled his phone from his face and put you on speaker. He swiped his thumb down to snag his new notification.
And nearly choked on the spit in his mouth.
You’d texted him. He’d opened it.
Attached to the message you sent were several different pictures of you, all in various states of undress. They were taken seconds ago, if Joel had had to guess.
“Fuck me,” he groaned.
His cock was already hardening in his jeans. He could hear you stifle a laugh across the line but didn’t care.
“Weird name for a dog, but I’ll take it,” you said.
Mutts were the furthest thing from his mind.
He wasn’t shy to tell you as much as his hand slid down to the button and zip of his pants and undid them both.
“Put on the…the…Face…book,” he muttered, low.
“The what now, Joel?” you cackled back.
“The Face-whatever. Video call. Wanna see your face.”
“FaceTime, Miller. FaceTime.” You were teasing now.
You should’ve known damn well a man as old as him wouldn’t know what the fuck a FaceTime was, but you poked fun anyway. Joel reminded himself to make you pay for that later, and then took his cock in his hand.
He let go to spit in his palm. He grabbed it again.
“Put those pretty tits on FaceTime or I’m tellin’ your old man all the sick, depraved things you’ve been lettin’ m—”
“You’re insufferable, Miller.”
He grinned to himself.
“You love it.”
He knew you couldn’t argue with that. In a minute, he heard you sigh, felt you betray a little smile of your own as you got to shifting around in place again. Preparing.
“I’ve got class in twenty minutes.”
“Won’t need but five, sweet pea.”
His phone buzzed with an incoming FaceTime.
Today was the day.
Well, almost the day.
Tomorrow you came home, but it was close enough to midnight now that Joel could pretend that it was today.
He was seated at a bar, both elbows planted on the sticky wet surface of a tabletop that was rarely cleaned. By now, he knew Mando’s sports bar like the back of his hand, and he could tell when certain staff weren’t around to clean spills. He could smell it, with the stench of a coconut-flavored rum wafting up to his nostrils and invading his brain. It took him back to his college days. Meanwhile, a mob of plastered bachelorettes were gathered six stools down and only getting louder.
“Kill me now,” your father grumbled beside him.
Joel hadn’t meant to say yes when he’d invited him out.
In fact, this was the last thing he wanted to be doing tonight, but your dad was unimaginably persuasive. He’d also offered to pay for Joel’s drinks at the bar, so really, this was just an opportunity to exercise his liver with an old friend, for free. Nothing dangerous about drinking with the guy whose daughter he was secretly dating.
Nothing dangerous at all.
Joel swallowed another draught of his jack and coke and stared harder at the wall of spirits in front of him, like a long enough look might save him from having to talk.
He’d never felt more awkward around his friend in his life. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to die or just confess.
Hey, man, I’m in love with your daughter, by the way.
We’ve been having filthy phone sex for weeks now.
Regular, old fashioned fucking for even longer.
“I need to take a leak,” Joel told him instead.
“Really? That’s your fourth piss in the last hour, Miller,” your father observed, almost clinically. He was drunk. “Sure you ain’t got one of them…UTIs, or whatever?”
The man had a smirk on his face when he said it.
He went on: “Catch a little somethin’ from whatever girl you screwed on vacation a couple weeks back, maybe?”
Of course, he meant the time he’d visited you at school.
Of course, he didn’t know it was you he’d gone to see.
He would, eventually. Not now. Not here. Not with eight of the most obnoxiously intoxicated women flailing limbs and lip syncing to Shania Twain just a dozen feet away.
When Joel returned from his bathroom break—another stupidly long pit stop like the last three taken before it—one of the octet had wandered over. She moved closer to him. Joel had only just slid onto his barstool and ducked his head to drink when a voice broke in, high and shrill.
He ignored her. Like the sound hadn’t even registered for him, he completely disregarded the wasted twenty-something, though it was obvious her eyes were on him.
“Ain’t feelin’ too friendly tonight?” his friend ribbed him.
Your dad didn’t seem to be seeing her either, while her fingers splayed over her hips and she slurred something more about needing some of that Southern hospitality.
Joel could smile. Nod his head.
That should get his friend off of his back.
But the moment he did, it was like a siren went off.
“Why don’t you buy her a drink, Miller?!” the man barked.
And Joel declined. Didn’t even lift his gaze in the girl’s direction and took another sip of his drink, hoping that she would leave. She did, eventually, but only after your dad had bought her and her friends a round of green tea shots, and the group had shrieked with satisfaction. His friend grimaced, but Joel could tell he was also amused.
“Never seen that before,” the man hummed.
“Seen what?” Joel took another swig of his drink.
“Never seen you so disinterested in gettin’ ass, Miller.”
Joel cringed hearing that. Not just on account of you, but knowing how crude your father could get when he was drunk. How forthright and unfiltered he’d become.
“Yeah. Just not that into…that,” Joel finished lamely.
“I’ll bet.”
His friend flitted a look from him, to the bachelorettes, to him once again. He seemed to appraise him in his seat. Then he leaned in closer and bumped Joel’s shoulder.
“Hear the way she screamed when I bought ‘em drinks?” His grin was smug. “Think she’d sound the same if y—”
“Why don’t you do it, then?” Joel said suddenly. He turned toward his friend, then nodded to the group. “Eager as you are to get some tail, go tell ‘em hi.”
He hadn’t meant it to sound so abrupt. His tone was clipped, with an edge that said that he was annoyed with this conversation. Admittedly, he was, but he didn’t need your father asking why. He took a slow, steadying breath.
“Because I’m a taken man, Joel Miller. You ain’t.”
Right.
Right.
Fucking his ex-wife’s best friend was a real special thing. One could only imagine how well that would turn out.
Without thinking, Joel glowered down at his drink.
“Shit. You’re empty,” his friend slurred a little. “Sadie?”
Sadie, the bartender, had their drinks replenished in a second—she knew her regulars and didn’t talk much.
Your dad could learn a thing or two from her, Joel mused.
Then, as if reading his mind and deciding to push his luck even more for the hell of it, the man spoke again:
“Don’t worry, Joel-y. I’m sure you’ll get there someday.”
He was sneering faintly. His breath smelled of whiskey.
“Oh yeah?” Joel shot back. Sharp. “Get where?”
He couldn’t help it.
Too late to channel his own inner-Sadie now.
His companion raised his glass to his lips and smiled.
“A relationship, Miller. With the woman you love.”
“And here I thought you just liked fucking her.”
A silence stretched after he said that, and Joel couldn’t tell if it was his friend taking his time with his cocktail or really resenting his words. He hadn’t meant to be rude.
Well, no, maybe he had.
Maybe he was tired of talking about Helen like that ‘relationship’ they’d had wasn’t the reason his friend’s marriage had gone up in flames decades back and you’d grown up most of your life without a mother. Joel didn’t have the whole story—couldn’t fully gauge what had taken place all those years ago, or why she’d left—but he could guess that this wasn’t the right move for your dad.
Or for you.
Just knowing what he knew, and what he’d failed to do when his friend had first told him, was enough to piss him off. Which was why he went on, futile as it seemed.
“You really think it’s love…with Helen? I didn—”
“Yeah. I do.”
His friend’s reply sounded a little barbed, at last.
There it was. The first tinge of annoyance—a rare sight for a man as indefatigably cheerful as your father—almost made Joel smile. He could see how he really felt.
His friend was clearly drunk now.
As the man’s emotions had a tendency to take wild, arcing swings whenever the drinks had gone to his head, it appeared he was nearly there. He’d eased off on the nonsense about Joel’s hypothetical sex life and directed the discussion inward. Joel could handle these musings.
For the first time, he leaned in closer and spoke lower.
“Last time we talked, you said Helen Foley was a fling.”
His friend’s eyes widened the slightest bit. He swallowed whatever whiskey was in his mouth and shook his head.
“You don’t…Don’t even say that.”
“Say what? That was all you.”
Joel’s gaze goaded him on, and he wasn’t even sure why he wanted to. It felt like the right thing to do, though, given how otherwise tight-lipped his friend had been about his former mistress and the fact that he was flaunting it now. As drunk men often liked to do.
“I never said she was a fling, Miller. I just…”
Another shake of his head, eyes glazed.
“Just what?” Joel pressed.
“I just said I liked her. A lot.”
“You said you liked the sex.”
Joel was being crass. Crude, like his friend had been before. He knew it would provoke a reaction out of him.
And just moments later, Joel’s wish was nearly granted.
Your dad blinked. He cleared his throat and tapped his now half-empty glass on the bartop before peering up.
“You’ve got it wrong,” your dad said, low. Hoarse.
“You said—”
“I say a lot of stupid shit, Miller. You know that.”
He did.
“So what is it then? Is the sex that good that—”
“No.”
“And it wrecked your whole fucking marriag—”
“Don’t,” your dad cut in, again, harsher now than before.
His speech was slowed, sluggish, and palpably agitated. The whiskey had hit his brain. He wasn’t as in control of the words flowing out of his mouth; Joel could see it.
“So you don’t feel guilty at all for cheating with her—”
“Because I loved Helen first!”
In spite of the raucous din of the bar all around them, your father’s voice carried surprisingly fast. Loud. Sadie cocked her head from a sea of new patrons huddling in at the entrance, lifted one brow, and scanned them briefly, as if trying to tell if a fight might be brewing.
It wasn’t. Your dad just got loud when he was plastered.
And once he started something, he had to keep going. Joel was listening, but he had to admit that the drinks were beginning to affect him, too. He set his down.
“What are you talking about?” he asked him.
Your dad dropped his glass with a little more éclat.
“I’m saying,” he started. Pausing to swallow once more. “I knew Helen first. I loved her first. This was before…”
He swallowed again, and Joel could see the effort there.
“…before I ever even met Amy. I swear.”
Amy. Now that was a name Joel hadn’t heard in awhile. It had been mostly an unspoken rule between them both never to bring up his ex-wife’s name, much less mention her like this. But there he went. Six drinks in and he was reminiscing on your mother. Joel felt trouble simmering.
“But you and Amy were married—” he started, slower.
“Exactly eight months before our daughter was born,” his friend grit out. Something like ire flashed in his gaze. “How’s that for one big fuckin’ coincidence, huh, Miller?”
Joel hadn’t even thought about it. He hadn’t known your father or mother back when they were first married—though Tommy had worked with the former, and had been friends with the couple a bit longer than he had.
Joel had only seen the ugly end of the marriage. It never occurred to him to inquire when—or how—it had started, just that it pissed his friend off whenever Amy became a topic of discussion. Mostly, it was in the context of regret
He saw that again, presently.
“Nobody even knew that was a thing because we were…casual. And real private about it, for a little while. Then the pregnancy came outta left field and I thought I was doin’ the right thing, y’know? Gettin’ married and growin’ up and all. But Amy wasn’t ever really in it any more than me. She knew I’d always be in love with somebody else.”
Helen?
Her best friend?
“Then why weren’t you with her?” Joel couldn’t hope to control the fervor that warmed his tone. He was enrapt.
He’d never heard this side of the story before.
His friend shrugged like it was nothing to him.
“Timing. Life,” he answered, duller. “We tried it out for a little while when she was in college, but Helen was so…young. And full’a big notions of gettin’ out of town, doin’ something else and stayin’ someplace else. I didn’t fit.”
He sounded deflated as he said it. He went on.
“I was damn near ten years older than her. I didn’t know the first thing about keepin’ a girl her age interested, or givin’ her what she needed. Had me mad for the longest time— which was why…I guess…” his friend trailed off.
“Amy,” Joel answered for him.
“Yeah. Amy,” your dad confirmed. Something more passed behind his eyes, though Joel couldn’t quite tell what it was. If he had to guess, he would say it was guilt.
The man kept going, evidently emboldened by his present state of intoxication and ready to say the worst. He ground his molars and rolled his lips like there was something bad he was itching to say, and Joel could only stare back. Wishing he was a little more drunk himself.
“I never meant it to be serious, Joel. I was young and dumb and trying to make the girl who rejected me jealous by screwin’ her best friend, and Amy knew it just as well. She knew I was sleepin’ with other people, too.”
His words were coming out quicker now. He planted one hand on the tabletop beside him, but he was facing him.
“Amy and I were both sleepin’ with other people, Joel.”
Then he paused a moment, and Joel wasn’t sure what the man was trying to say. Shortly, it dawned on him.
His eyes widened.
“You mean…?”
Your dad swallowed. Then shrugged. Then looked away, like he was suddenly ashamed of what he’d said. Knowing what it implied for himself, his ex-wife. For you.
“I’m— I’m almost positive she’s mine, there’s just…”
What? A possibility that you weren’t his daughter?
How could the man live with something like that?
Joel’s heart thudded a little louder in his chest. He wasn’t sure why; it just felt like something strange and momentous and bizarre for him to know before you.
Did you know?
“Does she…” He found it harder to finish his sentences.
Your dad’s eyes darted back to his. He blinked rapidly.
“No, no. God, no. I’d never tell her somethin’ like that,” he answered, fast. “It— it don’t even matter now, she’d always, always be my little girl. I just found out years after there was a chance she might be…someone else’s.”
Someone else’s.
Suddenly, Joel didn’t feel like he was fit to be told any of this. He felt like he was intruding. For your father to confess all of this—sharing such heavy news—it was all he could do to keep his blinking and breathing in check.
“See, Helen was never ‘the other woman.’ Amy and I were long checked out of our marriage before we ever split, and we…I mean, I went back. To Helen. I loved her.”
Your father paused again.
“I still love her, Joel. We tried making things work again, back then, too. We’d grown up a little bit. But my divorce was too new, my daughter was too young. It— it just didn’t happen. But now she’s here, and she wants to try again. I want to try again, and see if maybe— I dunno.”
“But then…” Joel thought of you. “Your daughter.”
“She thinks I’m the piece of shit who blew our family up on account of some affair. And I’m fine with her thinking that, if it keeps her from diggin’ into the past and learning her mom and I weren’t— that I might not be…”
Joel closed his eyes a moment. He sucked in a breath.
This was the last thing he needed to learn the night before you were supposed to be coming back home.
How could he tell you something like this? Should he?
It almost seemed as if the walls were closing in, and he was faced with the same dilemma as he had before—cope with a lie or cause more pain by telling you the truth. But now it really didn’t feel like his place to tell. It felt heartless and cruel to even bring it up, and somehow worse if he didn’t. If he withheld the truth from you again
And just as he’d endeavored to get his head around the idea, to try and make sense of it, a new bomb dropped.
“But if she ain’t mine, at least I’ve got an…idea of who the father might be. Silver livings an’ all,” his friend said. The smile he flashed him was as weak as it was sardonic.
“Who?”
“There were a few—rumors, I mean. Nothing for certain. Just heard she was seeing Dave York and Javier Peña…”
Those made sense. Joel knew the guys from work.
“Marcus Pike and that dude who used to live a little ways out of town—Ezra something, I forget. You remember?”
He didn’t.
Joel was racking his brain for names, and the last two sounded familiar, though he couldn’t place their faces.
“Dieter Bravo, that actor guy…Reed Richards—shit, it’s been a minute since we talked to him, ain’t it? Damn.”
Your father kept rattling off names like this was the most normal thing in the world—he’d probably done it often over the years—but with each new pronunciation, Joel felt himself growing sicker. He didn’t want to hear more.
But he’d have to, unless he made up an excuse to leave.
Another bathroom break might do the trick.
Okay, he could slip out easily that way.
Just as Joel was clearing his throat and preparing to make his fifth restroom announcement of the night, he had to stop. He heard another name drop from your dad, and he almost choked. Then he did choke, in a second.
“And Tommy, maybe…”
“Tommy?!”
The lone word punctured the air like a strangled breath—it came from the labor of his own two lungs, at hearing his brother’s name raised in connection with all of this.
What could Tommy have to do with any of that?
“Yeah,” your dad answered, nonchalant at first. Then, seeming to recollect his senses as he realized what he’d said, he smiled sheepishly. “I mean that’s—that’s a long shot, Joel. I heard some whisperings Amy and him might’ve gotten on and hooked up once or twice back then, but it was nothing serious. The odds of him bein—”
“Your kid’s father?!” Joel spit the words out like poison. He couldn’t help it. His heart had jumped to his throat.
He couldn’t be hearing his friend correctly.
He had to have been mistaken with that.
Joel’s brain short-circuited momentarily. It felt like his heart had leapt from his throat to his head and he could sense every sick, throbbing pulse of the thing thrumming sporadically through his skull. It was deafening to him.
Your father was continuing on, but it was hard to hear.
“…Tommy must’ve been, what, twenty-two? Same as Amy. I think they had some mutual friends besides me—must’ve been a casual thing. I don’t think he even knew we were hooking up back then, too. I don’t blame him…”
The man might as well have been speaking French, because Joel didn’t understand the first fucking thing coming out of his mouth except ‘Tommy’ and ‘Amy.’
His brother and your mother.
Having sex? When the fuck had that happened?
There had to be some misunderstanding. No way could his baby brother have done something like that and not…
Fuck. It had been twenty-two goddamn years since then.
What if he didn’t remember?
What if he couldn’t remember?
What if—oh, fuck, there was no fucking shot.
“Don’t look so shocked, Miller.” Your father grinned, and for the first time in a while, through the bulk of this whole conversation, it was genuine. He thought this was funny. “You know Tommy got around back then. Shit happens.”
Then, as if to rib him again:
“What, you scared of bein’ my kid’s uncle or somethin’?”
Joel was ready to throw up.
No, not ready—he was going to retch.
Jack and coke could’ve easily taken the blame for that, but anyone with half a brain and an ability to see the situation for what it was would’ve known better.
Joel knew better.
He had to shake his head. Say something. Otherwise he would be stuck, staring at his friend and looking as if he might spew chunks all over the front of his shirt at any given moment. There was no way you two were related.
“Hey, if you are, I’d say you’d make a damn good uncle anyway. You and her have been close for awhile, right—”
Time to vomit.
Time to leave.
Time to abandon any scant sense of self-respect and simultaneously lose the last six drinks he’d consumed into the closest sink or toilet. The room was spinning.
‘Gotta…piss’ was all he remembered saying. That should’ve been enough. If it wasn’t, well…that was no longer his problem. He was gone in the next second.
In his semi-drunken state, it amazed Joel just how far he was able to disgorge his dinner. As he expected, it was mostly liquid. It was like the second he stepped into the bathroom, all bets were off, and he was heaving like he was on the brink of death. What the fuck was all that?
This didn’t feel real. Wiping his mouth, running the sink, watching the liquid trail down, down, down until there was nothing left for him to see but a concave block of porcelain staring back. Its surface was surprisingly bright, shiny, and slick. It made him want to barf again.
But this was no time for fucking around.
If anyone needed to be spilling their guts now, it was someone else. Joel couldn’t rest until he reached him.
So, pulling out his phone with sweat-damp, noticeably shaky hands, he blinked harder. He focused his gaze. For the first time in what now felt like years, he turned the device on without the intention of texting, calling, or FaceTiming you. He scrolled through his long list of contacts until he reached the name, then winced.
This wasn’t real.
This wasn’t real.
He dialed the number and grew nauseous all over again.
Summary: you ask Joel for help while preparing for your upcoming date with another man. (or so it seems)
Tags: grumpy x sunshine, idiots in love, sweet sweet fluff, age gap, a drop of angst, peepaw is insecure abt his age :(, Jackson era, Joel is kind of slow but it's okay we still love him (pookie doesn't realize how hot he is), me dancing around the smut like i'm a fucking circus acrobat
Word count: 4K
A/N: sooo very long time no see 🙈 ever since the start of 2025 i'm telling myself to get back into writing but it still felt like a chore lol. but i REALLY wanted to finish this fic before tlou s2 drops so here it is!!! i'm really proud of how it turned out and i hope to write more in the near future. love you all so so much and as always, happy reading!! 💕
dividers by @saradika 🩷
Joel Miller didn't have friends.
He had a couple of buddies before the outbreak with whom he used to watch the game sometimes, but nothing more than that. Tommy didn't count, of course, because he was his brother and therefore had to be nice to him. The only other person who could put up with him was Ellie, but the kid was… a kid. As for the other people in Jackson, they were wise to keep their distance from Joel, not wanting to hang around a shadow of a man such as him.
He didn't mind. He liked the peace and quiet, and it didn't bother him one bit that everyone seemed to give him a wide berth, whispering about the danger that he was.
Well, almost everyone avoided him. You, the exact person that should stay far away from a man like Joel Miller, gravitated to him with an almost effortless ease. Even amongst all the hopeful people that created Jackson, you were the purest, brightest ray of sunshine, always helpful and compassionate towards anyone who came your way. And even though Joel wasn't exactly welcoming to you in the beginning, you never gave up and persisted – and eventually, befriended him.
And ever since the first time you spoke to him, he didn't stand a chance. You were young and pretty, and so charming with your innocent optimism… Before Joel realized, he was fantasizing about you during the lonely evenings, dreaming of your voice late in the night, and looking for you in the crowd when he was out of the house.
He was way too old to feel this kind of way, and every now and then it felt like he was balancing on a tightrope between being stupid and borderline creepy. Such a sweet girl like you wouldn't look twice at an old man like him if she knew the things that sometimes ran through his mind when he was seeing other men flirting with you, seeking the same warm light that Joel grew addicted to.
That was the poison mixed with your sweetness – even though it was irrational, with you everything seemed easier than it was.
…even falling in love.
And fall Joel Miller did. It was an embarrassing, tainted experience, especially when he remembered how much older than you he was. But he couldn't help it, and once this burning want became clear to him, he didn't really want to fight it, either.
You were everything he should stay far away from – young, pretty and so bright with your smiles, your hope, your innocence. A sinner like Joel Miller had no place in your life, and yet he couldn't muster the courage to let you go. It was selfish of him, he knew, but spending time in your company was one of the few brightsides of his life… and he didn't have many of those, lately. He genuinely enjoyed being near you – a lot more than he probably should.
That's why, when he noticed you skipping his way with a bright smile splattered across your cheeks, he felt his heart instantly lighten. It was a hard day of work at the construction site and he was relieved to finally be heading home, but just the sight of you made the weariness disappear from within his bones.
“Joel! Hi!” Something must have stirred you quite strongly, for you were practically bouncing with excitement. The words were spilling out of your mouth before he even had a chance to say hello. “I need your help, right now. Please.”
“Slow down, darlin’,” he chuckled, letting you drag him by the arm to a wall of the nearest building and away from the crowd. “You alrigh’?”
“Yeah, yes, of course.” You waved to someone passing by, totally unfazed – or maybe just ignorant – that you were being seen with him in public. “I just need your help.”
“Well, what is it?” he repeated the question and finally, you turned to face him. Joel couldn't help but match the pretty smile on your face, but it quickly faded when you blurted out your next words.
“I like someone.”
That short, simple sentence wrecked Joel’s world by the foundations. For a couple of seconds he just stared at you with his mouth slightly agape while you fidgeted with your hands nervously, but still overjoyed.
“Wh– uhh, sorry?”
“I like someone,” you repeated excitedly, as if your words weren't piercing right through Joel's heart. “And I need your help.”
All of the sudden, the world lost all its colors, as if all the meaning was sucked out of the universe just by your words.
Why it was such a surprise to him, Joel didn't know. Of course you'd sooner or later get together with someone. He should have expected it. You were young, pretty and such a joy to be around, people were gravitating towards you instinctively. Like moths to a flame.
Just like him – yet he was always destined to only get burned.
“Joel?”
You leaned closer and Joel's eyes instinctively focused on your lower lip worried between your teeth. You were obviously oblivious to his feelings, as well as the effect you had on him – otherwise he doubted you'd tempt him like that, unknowingly making his mind fixate on how perfect your lips would have felt under his touch.
But no, it wasn't his caresses you wanted. There was someone else, someone far more deserving of you, and you were asking Joel only for his help. And though it hurt him – it killed him to lose this small sliver of affection you had been giving him so far – he nodded supportingly.
“Wha… what do you need help with, sweet girl?” he asked softly, trying not to show how devastated he felt inside. Joel had no desire to hear about whoever was fortunate enough to gain your favor, but again, luck wasn't on his side.
“I made a plan to meet him,” you explained enthusiastically, grabbing his forearm. Joel looked at where your fingers touched his skin, barely listening to your words. “Tonight. And I need you to come with me.”
That woke him up from his reverie. Joel huffed and shook his head sharply, looking at you like you were out of your mind.
“No.” His tone was almost biting, but through his firm refusal, a trace of panic was slipping through. You pouted, squeezing his forearm lightly.
“Oh, come on, please? I just want to make sure everything’s perfect.”
“No,” Joel repeated, much weaker this time. “Hell no. Why would I–” Then, a dark thought bloomed in his mind and his face turned concerned. “You're worried he'd do somethin’ to you?”
“Oh, no, no!” It was your turn to shake your head, and you actually cracked a smile at Joel's worried tone. “No, he'd never hurt me.”
Your voice got softer; your smile turned serene. Joel wanted nothing more than to turn away when your eyes started to wander across his features, but again that proved to be too herculean of a task compared to the hold you had over him.
“He's kind,” you continued absentmindedly, and on the edge of consciousness Joel remembered your hand was still on his arm, tracing small lines with your thumb. “Respectful and thoughtful… A real gentleman.”
“A-and who’s he?” Joel found the courage to ask, breaking you out of your daydreams. You smiled happily again – that damned, sweet smile of yours – and removed your hand. He immediately started missing the feeling of your touch.
“You'll see.” You looked over your shoulder when someone shouted your name a street away, and waved from the distance. You gave Joel one last pleading look, clasping your hands together. “Come to the Tipsy Bison at 9. Please? You can just sit in the corner but I'll feel so much better and safer with you there.”
Once Joel looked into your beautiful, pleading eyes, he was a goner. He never could deny you anything either way.
Even when he would kill for a chance to go on a real date with you.
“Okay,” he finally caved in. “Alrigh’. I'll be there.”
The overjoyed smile you gave him was almost enough to soothe the hollow pain in his chest.
Almost.
Great. Fucking great.
Joel made another turn around the street, trying to build up the courage to approach Tipsy Bison. The flannel shirt he wore was itching uncomfortably, but he was already half an hour late and there was no time to go back home and change.
He regretted ever setting foot in Jackson. It was a nightmare situation for him, having to spend the evening in a room full of loud, drunk people and watch as you go about your date with another man. Joel thought a dozen times about making up some excuse as to why he can't chaperone your date after all. He even went as far as to beg Tommy to accompany him, just that he wouldn’t have to suffer alone, but his younger brother just gave him a pitying look, saying something about spending time with Maria tonight. Joel could always cancel, lie that he can’t make it after all… but then he remembered how hopeful and thankful you looked, and all his resolve was wavering again. He couldn't ever say no to you, even though he desperately wanted to.
He looked at his broken watch, sighing at the hour. He delayed the inevitable long enough, so with heavy steps he approached the bar at last. You asked him to go through the back door, for whatever reason, and he was too tired at the time to point out there’s nothing back there except for the kitchen and storage rooms. Whatever. You probably were already in the main hall, with your date, and either you were angry at Joel for being late, or not thinking about him at all. He wasn’t sure which one would be worse.
Once he stepped over the threshold, he carefully closed the door behind him. The racket from the bar was muffled here, but from the nearest room he could hear someone muttering. Joel swallowed heavily and cleared his throat to alert whoever was on the other side of the wall.
“Joel?” he heard your voice before you appeared in the doorway. At the sight of him your shoulders dropped and with confusion he noted that you didn’t look angry or disappointed – you seemed relieved. “Goddammit, finally you’re here. You took your sweet time, huh?”
Before he could answer, you walked forward and took his sleeve, half-dragging him behind you. Words of protest bubbled on his tongue, but they all died quickly when Joel saw the room you emerged from.
The storage shelves were decorated with fairy lights and in the middle of the room stood a small table with two chairs opposite each other. The only other source of light were a couple of candles on the table and around the room. There was food on the table – probably cold by now – and a bottle of wine. But most importantly – there was no one else in the room except for Joel and you.
While he was looking around like an absolute fool, searching for an explanation for this situation, you cautiously closed the door and walked around the man, coming to a stop by the set table with your hands clasped in front of you.
“...Well?” you asked after an uncomfortably long silence, letting out a nervous laugh. “What do you think?”
Joel blinked, not sure if you were talking to him.
“Where's the guy?”
You threw him a confused look, but truly, it was the only thing Joel could think of. He glanced around the room again, as if his mysterious competition was going to jump up from behind one of the shelves, but there was no trace of anyone else here.
“Your… your date,” he clarified after a moment and cleared his throat once more. A spark of understanding flashed in your eyes and you pressed your lips together. “It's late. Is he… He didn't set you up, did he?”
“That depends,” you finally answered softly, keeping your wary but hopeful eyes on him. “Are you finally gonna sit down?”
A cog clicked into its place in Joel's mind and he turned his head, not sure if he had heard you right. You smiled nervously and motioned to the table.
“The food’s probably cold by now, but I can heat it up. It’s your own fault, though, since I asked you to be here forty minutes ago–”
“I don’t…”
He didn’t understand. Nothing made sense, but he had to make sure, “So there’s no… there’s no date?”
You were clearly nervous, judging by the way you were fidgeting with your hands, but you sent him a shy smile nonetheless. “I mean, you’re here…”
Joel didn’t answer – frankly, he didn’t know what to say. So many conflicted emotions were swirling in his chest, blocking his throat from squeezing out even a sound. It created almost a physical pain between his ribs, especially when your eyes were still on him, so hopeful and patient.
After another pregnant pause, you let out a quiet breath and took a step forward, throwing him a lifeline since he clearly must’ve looked like an idiot. “There’s no one else coming, if that’s what you’re asking. I made all of this for you – for… us, maybe. I just…” You half-shrugged, and only now Joel realized how nice you looked, wearing a dress he never before saw you in, “didn’t know how to tell you.”
Joel swept his gaze over the room once more – the dinner, the lights, your pretty dress… and you. And it was all for him, apparently.
“Why?” he breathed, the weight of his age almost making him collapse to his knees. He desperately wanted to say something more profound than one word at the time, but his voice was failing him. Thankfully, you were always kind enough to fill in the silence.
“Why did I lie to you or why did I drag you here of all places?” You rounded the table, eyeing the decorations with a proud smile. “Well–”
“No, darlin’, why…” He shook his head. Everything felt too unreal, too sudden. And he felt so tired. “Why me?”
That made you pause and you turned to him with a surprised look, like what he just said was the last thing you expected to hear.
“What do you mean, why you?” you huffed incredulously, leaning forward against the back of the chair, and though you tried to look casual, the nervousness in the tension of your body was apparent. “You’re just… I mean, it must be pretty clear that I really like you… And I thought you might have felt the same. You know, with all the ‘darling’s’ and looking at me, and stuff…”
Was it a dream? You always looked like you were out of a dream, but something about this moment… the fairy lights, your shy demeanor, the words he never thought he’d hear from you… Joel didn't know if he was still alive or maybe that's what the afterlife looked like.
“...You could say something,” you half-joked with a trace of worry in your voice, obviously growing uncomfortable at his lack of reaction. “You know, Tommy only let me have this place ‘til midnight before they come by to restock the bar. We can at least eat and talk a little, right?”
“Did Tommy put you up to this?” Joel asked bitterly, unable to stop himself at the mention of his brother’s name. He recalled the look Tommy gave him earlier today, his excuses as to why he can’t come with him... What other explanation could there be for such a gorgeous, young woman to be interested in Joel of all people, if it wasn’t just a product of his kin’s poor humor? However, he instantly regretted asking you this when your soft smile disappeared altogether, and you wrapped your arms around yourself.
“You can just say if you don’t feel the same way,” you said dryly with an angry and hurt furrow on your brow. “No need to be a dick about it.”
You walked by him, apparently done with Joel’s accusations and grumpiness, but he quickly caught your arm before he could think better of it. You spun around, probably ready to tear into him, but he wouldn't hear a word either way – no while a vortex of doubts and questions raged in his mind. Joel didn’t know how or why you’d ever take interest in an old man like him, but he was now certain of two things.
One, you were telling the truth. For whatever reason, you really liked him – enough to plan and prepare a whole dinner date just for him.
And two, if Joel let you walk out now, he’d regret it for the rest of his life.
You must’ve noticed the change on his face when his eyes flickered to your lips because you froze, the words of hurt and disappointment drying out on your tongue. Joel swallowed and wet his lips, looking for any sign of hesitation or regret on your face, but there was nothing in your eyes but pure, fragile anticipation. He delicately put his hand on the side of your face, the rough pad of his thumb brushing your cheek slowly. Your eyelashes fluttered closed and you let out a shaky breath, and that was all it took for Joel to lean down and press his lips to yours.
The kiss started delicate, but almost immediately turned into a fervent, hungry thing, which you ardently reciprocated. Joel wanted to take his time, to test the waters and build up the anticipation until you were ready to beg for him, but he didn’t expect just how fucking good kissing you would feel – and how eager you were for his touch. The smell of you, the feel of your hands on his chest and arms… it was driving him crazy with want, and without thinking twice, he spun you around and pinned your back against the edge of the table, making you whimper into his mouth.
“Goddammit, baby…” The term of endearment slipped out before he realized it, but judging by your reaction you didn’t mind at all. Your breath hitched, making him smirk to himself as he started to realize just how much power he held over you. It certainly shouldn’t excite him as much as it did. “Are you absolutely sure that’s what you want?”
“Joel, if you don’t stop questioning me…” you started, and although your words were firm, your voice leaned into a deliciously needy pitch, the kind of which he yearned to hear for far too long. Joel groaned into your mouth, moving down to press hot kisses against the line of your jaw and down your neck, greedily drinking in the noises you were making.
“Tell me, darlin’,” he asked in a low voice, experimentally running his palm up your thigh under the pretty dress you wore. The effect was immediate, and you pressed your body closer to him, seeking his touch the moment it left your skin. “I need to know if you really mean all this.”
“For fuck’s sake, Joel–” You made a surprised noise as he hoisted you up and onto the table, but it turned into another needy whimper when he knocked your knees apart and slotted himself between them with ease. You glanced behind you, worried that you'll push the silverware off the table, and Joel took this moment to resume the onslaught on your neck, kissing and sucking every inch of skin he could reach. You choke back a moan as his touch made a shiver run up your spine. “Joel, please…”
“I need to hear it, sweetheart,” he murmured lowly against your skin, slowing down to tease you when he felt your heartbeat quicken up beneath his lips. “Need to make sure you know what you're gettin’ into.”
“I do, I promise,” you assured him fervently while your hands went to the back of his head, fingers tangling into his gray locks. “You have no idea how many times I thought about this. I wanted you for so long, Joel, please…”
“Wanted you, too, darlin’.” He put one of his hands on the small of your back, pulling your lower half closer to the edge of the table so you could feel what you were doing to him. “God, every time you smiled at me it was all I could think about… So kind and beautiful, never thought you'd look twice my way.”
You didn't bother to answer this time, instead angling his head up to kiss him deeply again. The doubt and fear were still present in Joel's mind, but he honestly couldn't focus on them with you in front of him. You were so warm under his palms, so pliant and eager, a literal putty in his steady hands. He could never imagine how incredible it felt to be wanted by someone so much, but at the same time he knew he had to take his time. As much as he wanted to keep going, to make you see stars and sing his name, it was more than just lust with you.
So when you reached for the buttons of his shirt, he gently grabbed your wrists and moved them away, finally regaining his self-control. You whined disapprovingly, but the crease between your brows quickly disappeared when Joel kissed your fingers softly, not taking his eyes off you.
“Shh, sweetheart, don’t rush,” he cood, earning a small disappointed pout. He had to close his eyes, lest he caved in. Fuck, the sight of you before him – your pupils blown wide, lips swollen from his ministrations, your heavy breath and the dress bunched around your hips… Joel was sure you’d let him do anything to you right now. And God, he couldn’t wait. “Let me do this properly, yeah? Have a nice date with you, then maybe take you home if you don’t change your mind…”
“We can skip the dinner,” you quietly offered, your breath still uneven and cheeks flushed. He huffed a laugh with fondness and leaned in to plant a soft kiss on your forehead, his own breathing also slightly erratic.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he murmured against your skin before taking your face in his hands. “Someone did say I’m a gentleman, no?”
You seemed to regret your previous choice of words, accentuating it with a disappointed whimper and a buck of your hips. Joel groaned and kissed you deeply again, almost able to taste all the impatience and desire on your tongue. Surprisingly, you didn’t fight him further and instead obediently slid off the table, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck to be as close to him as possible.
Joel was grateful for this moment of calm before even more excitement – and he didn’t mind spending it by watching you, standing so close and smiling up at him as brightly as the sun itself.
“You believe me now?” you asked teasingly, stifling your giggles when Joel rolled his eyes playfully. “Good. You will have to make it up to me, then.”
Worry crept back onto Joel’s face, but you were quick to calm him down with a tender kiss to his jaw, and then another one lower, on his pulse point. “You were late. If you got here on time, we could’ve been doing this at least half an hour longer.”
Joel chuckled and lifted your chin with his finger, before kissing you briefly one last time.
“Baby, let’s enjoy the dinner you prepared, first. After that, I swear I’ll make it up to you in however many ways you want.”
Judging by your smile, you didn’t seem to mind at all.
pairing: choi seunghyun x f!reader
warnings: smut, oral, fluff, sneaking around, jiyong's sister!reader
notes: this one is going to be part of a series that i'm really looking forward to working on. i hope you all enjoy! as always, thank you for reading and taking the time to like/comment/reblog. it means a lot to me.
You’d been secretly sleeping with your brother’s best friend for months. You weren’t proud of it, but you weren’t ashamed either — something about sneaking around made things more exciting. Besides, it was all for fun. It started with making out when you’d both had a few drinks, then moved to sober kisses when he would visit you at your apartment. It was only a couple of weeks of this before it moved to occasional late night hook ups at each other’s homes, sneaking out before the sun came up.
Neither of you ever discussed what you were doing. You simply enjoyed the time alone with one another and acted casual around everyone else. It was just a way to pass the time with someone you cared about, but you found yourself missing him when you couldn’t see him. You’re too scared to bring it up to him, for fear of him not feeling the same way, so you settle for what you have, hoping that it will be enough.
Today, the band is recording a few songs for the new album, and when you arrive under the guise of visiting your brother, Jiyong, he and the others are preparing to break for lunch. Everyone except Seunghyun, who Daesung informed you was hard at work and would not break until he completed his adlibs.
You chat with the group for a few moments before waving them off to lunch, saying that you’d stop by to say Seunghyun before leaving yourself. Once you are sure the others have left for lunch, you find your way to the control room for the booth at the far end of the building, where you know Seunghyun will still be working. He always favored this room to record his adlibs, because it was smaller and more secluded, affording him the opportunity to better focus without his bandmates distracting him. You almost feel bad about the thoughts your mind is currently feeding you.
“Hey,” you say, once you step into the room, closing the door gently behind you. Seunghyun, who is sitting at the control panel, turns quickly in his chair, his eyes widened in surprise.
“Hey,” Seunghyun says, glancing around to make sure you were alone, as if anyone else would be hiding the small space of the room. “What are you doing here?”
“I stopped by to see Ji,” you reply, but then shrug your shoulders. “I thought I’d come say ‘hi’, at least. I don’t want to interrupt.”
It’s a lie, and judging by the look on Seunghyun’s face, he can tell. You didn’t need to come to the studio today to see your brother, but you needed to see Seunghyun. The group has been overwhelmingly busy and you’ve had less time to spend with Seunghyun.
“Are the others–?”
“They left for lunch just now,” you say, grabbing the only other chair in the room and rolling it closer to Seunghyun before sitting, merely a foot away from him. “Can I watch? I promise I’ll be quiet.” The small smile on Seunghyun’s lips is noticeable, but he quickly looks back towards the computer screen to hide his amusement.
“We both know you aren’t capable of being quiet,” he mutters.
“Oh, me?” you laugh. “What about you?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Seunghyun says, still focusing on the screen.
You know he’s teasing, but you also know his neck looks really good right now, and that if you get him in exactly the right spot, you’ll prove your point. You grab onto the armrest of his chair, leaning your body closer so you’re able to press your lips to the spot where his jaw ends, leaving a playful bite. He jumps at the sudden contact, hissing your name as quietly as he can.
“Anyone can walk in,” he whispers.
“I told you, they’re at lunch,” you mutter, your mouth creeping closer to the spot on his neck that drives him crazy. He’s tense, his hands gripping the end of the armrests, still not convinced that you’re alone. “Do you want me to stop?” you ask, your tone more serious now as you pause to wait for his response. He lets out a sigh, tilting his head to the side to bare more of his neck to you.
“Please don’t leave a mark,” he whispers, his voice deeper now. “They’ll never let me hear the end of it until I tell them where I got it.” You chuckle quietly, returning to your previous task of kissing and biting along his pulse.
When your mouth finally reaches the spot you’re in search of, you bite just a little harder, earning the groan you were after. You chuckle against his skin, shifting towards him more to get a better hold on him. Placing one of your hands on the other side of his head to hold him still, your other hand rests high on his thigh, squeezing softly.
“Don’t get any big ideas,” Seunghyun warns. “They could come back at any minute.”
“I guess I’ll have to work fast, then, hm?” you reply, leaving bites along his jaw.
Seunghyun rolls his head towards you, pressing his lips to yours to kiss you deeply. As soon as his tongue slips into your mouth, it’s as though you switched places, with you being the one weak from his mouth, though it wouldn’t be the first time. You focus long enough to slip your hand up his thigh, pressing to his crotch to find that he’s already getting hard.
“Fuck, baby, c’mon,” he breathes against your lips.
Your mind goes blank for a moment. It’s the first time he’s called you anything besides your name. Sure, he would occasionally use other, more respectful honorific titles with you, but he would do the same with everyone, so it never felt different. But this? Hearing him call you something so casual yet so romantic sends your body into overdrive, making you whimper against his lips. You want to do everything you can to hear him say it again.
Seunghyun spreads his legs wider, so you continue to rub him through his jeans. When he breaks from the kiss, breathless as he looks down at your hand, you kiss his jaw again, desperation taking over. Seunghyun sets his hand on the back of your head, guiding your mouth back to the spot on his neck you were attacking before – you take the hint and start sucking softly on his skin.
“Your mouth is going to get me in trouble,” he mumbles, his fingers gently rubbing your scalp.
Through the sound isolated walls of the control room, you can hear another voice calling out what sounds like Seunghyun’s name. You both freeze in a panic, hoping that maybe they won’t come to this room, but the voice starts to get closer, and Seunghyun looks terrified. If you get caught, and Jiyong finds out…
“The desk,” Seunghyun says, scooting his chair back enough to give you the space to crawl under the control desk.
Once you settle in what you can only call a nest of wires, Seunghyun scoots his chair back under the desk, blocking you in and hopefully hiding you from the view of the owner of this voice. He quickly shoves your chair away from him, and adjusts his attention forward just as the door to the room opens.
“Hey, man,” the voice says, as the person walks into the room. You don’t recognize the voice as that of your brother, nor is it Taeyang or Daesung, so you attribute it to one of the engineers of the studio. “Where is everyone else?” they ask.
“Oh, uh, out to lunch,” Seunghyun replies, his voice noticeably shaky.
The man responds in kind, but you don’t hear what he says, your mind preoccupied with your proximity to Seunghyun’s crotch. The idea that pops into your head is devious, and you’re sure it will be quite risky, but you can’t stop yourself. You press your hands against Seunghyun’s inner thighs, urging them wider apart so you could scoot closer. When your fingers find the button of his jeans, he tenses, and you can hear him feign a cough to disguise his surprise.
The two men continue to chat, but you stop listening altogether, instead dragging the zipper of his jeans down. You’re thankful he chose to wear jeans that were even slightly looser than normal today, which gave you more room to slip your hand into his jeans to pull him free from his briefs. Seunghyun scoots his chair forward, inching closer towards you, and you smile at the subtle invitation.
It only takes a few strokes of your hand with your mouth softly sucking on his tip before he’s fully erect, leaking precum onto your tongue. His legs are fidgeting, but you can tell he’s trying to stay as still as possible to avoid getting caught. You can hear the way he speaks is strained, and thankfully the other man hasn’t caught on yet, but you don’t know how much longer Seunghyun will be able to keep quiet.
As much as you know you moan, Seunghyun is always much more vocal – you’re sure you could get off to a recording of his moans alone. His voice is always so deep, and his moans match the same tone, rumbling through his body to the point you can feel the vibrations when he’s inside of you. You feel yourself getting wet just from the thought of his moans.
You give him more languid strokes, licking your lips as you watch the way he looks in your hand. In the cramped space beneath the desk, you can’t get to Seunghyun like you really want to, not without giving yourself away, so you settle for what you can do. You angle your head forward again, taking his head into your mouth, sucking harder now as your hand strokes him a little faster.
“Are you okay?”
The man is catching onto the way Seunghyun is acting, and you’re tempted to push him even more just to add to the risk. But Seunghyun mutters a quick excuse about being scattered from how difficult the recording has been. His shaky voice tries to disguise just how turned on he is so you risk it, taking him a little deeper into your mouth, hollowing out your cheeks.
“Have you eaten today?” the man pushes.
“I think I’m about to,” Seunghyun replies.
You smirk around him, trying to hide the excited giggle that bounces through your insides. When Seunghyun’s hand slips under the desk, pressing to the back of your head, you find it more difficult to hide your own sounds of pleasure. You find your breathing getting a little louder, so you pull him from your mouth, stroking him from head to base with each motion. Seunghyun’s hand maneuvers from the back of your head, to your jaw, as if he wants to touch you but he doesn’t know where – you get an idea.
When his thumb brushes over your chin, you part your lips, waiting for his fingers to near your mouth again. When his digits try to trace your lips, you tip your head forward and tease his fingers with the tip of your tongue. You feel him tense again, so you keep pushing, taking them into your mouth, and he responds by carefully touching your tongue. Your mouth closes around his digits, sucking softly as you continue to stroke him as best as you are able to.
You need a little bit of relief yourself, so you unfasten your jeans with your free hand, carefully adjusting your position so you can slide your hand into your panties. As soon as your fingers make contact with your wetness, you pull in a small gasp, which Seunghyun thankfully quickly covers up by clearing his throat.
“Alright, man, I’m heading out. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Your heart rate increases when you hear the man excuse himself from the room, but you continue to tease both yourself and Seunghyun as you listen to the man depart. There is a distinct change in Seunghyun’s breath, as he waits for a few moments to give the man time to leave the building altogether.
“Jesus Christ,” Seunghyun groans, slipping his fingers from your mouth, and scooting his chair back from the desk enough to peer down at you. “Are you trying to get us caught?”
“I couldn’t help it,” you whine. “I needed you.” Seunghyun’s eyes dart around from your face, to your hand that still strokes him, until he finally sees your hand in your panties.
“You’re touching yourself right now?” he asks, his voice tight. “What turned you on the most? The taste of me or the risk of getting caught.”
“Your fingers in my mouth.”
“Mmm, I didn’t know you were into that,” he mumbles, stifling another groan when you trace your tongue along his tip.
“I want to hear you moan,” you whisper, giving him the most innocent look you can muster. “Is the live room soundproof?”
Seunghyun swallows hard, watching the way you bite your lip, still stroking him. In one swift motion, he grabs you by both of your forearms and stands from his seat, tugging you along with him towards the live recording room. He pulls you into the room with him, slamming the door closed as he moves in on you, pinning you to the wall so he can kiss you deeply. Your hand slips between your bodies so you can still work him steadily.
The first moan he releases is muffled by the kiss, so you break free and kiss along his jaw, biting gently every so often to try to coax it from him. When you twist your hand over him, stroking a little faster, he groans, grabbing onto your hips firm enough to bruise them. You know he isn’t going to last much longer, so switch places with him, pressing his back to the wall so you can drop to your knees.
With full range of motion now, you take Seunghyun’s into your mouth halfway, bobbing your head and stoking in time. One of his hands grips your shoulder, as if for balance, while his other hand curls around the hem of his shirt, lifting it so he can watch you from above. He loosens up enough to let his moans be heard – rich and smooth, he moans your name, mixed between a few swears.
When you drop your hand from him, instead grabbing onto his hips, you take him deeper into your mouth, moving faster and faster, humming around him to urge him onward. You can feel him throbbing on your tongue, so you pull him from your mouth, opting to press a few kisses along his shaft while you listen to his moans grow throatier. You take him into your hand again, stroking faster, knowing he’s just on the edge – to give him the final push, you slip his tip back between your lips, sucking harshly until finally he throws his head back against the wall and spills into your mouth.
“Fuck, baby!” he moans. “Oh, my god.”
You swallow everything, licking him clean and watching the way his body twitches with each touch of your tongue. As soon as you finish, you look up at him, wiping your mouth with your fingers and licking them clean. Seunghyun’s eyes are darkened, and you know he’s going to fulfill the vague threat from earlier.
Seunghyun tucks himself back into his pants, buttoning up quickly before he grabs you, dragging you to your feet and swapping places with you again. When he kisses you, he seems desperate to taste himself on your tongue, soft groans escaping his throat as his tongue touches everything it can reach. You can feel his hands working your jeans and panties down your hips, stopping at your thighs before he finally lowers to his knees.
“Did you plan all of this?” he asks, looking up at you as he works your jeans lower, struggling to pull one leg free from the clothing. “You didn’t care about seeing your brother...you just wanted to see me, didn’t you?”
“Mhm,” you hum, nodding your head as he hooks one of your legs over his shoulder. You brace yourself against the wall with one hand, threading the fingers of your other hand through his hair.
“You got this wet just from giving me head?” he asks, his eyelids heavy as he peers up at you again. You nod slowly in response, and watch as he plants a quick kiss to your inner thigh, eyes still on you – his eyes look different than you’ve ever seen them, almost as though he’s trying to play soft and innocent like you had done. “You really need me, don’t you?” he asks, his fingers tracing through your folds, just barely touching your clit to make you whimper. “I’ll take care of you, baby. I know you’re just aching for me. It’s been, what, three days?”
Seunghyun has never teased you like this before. Usually, there wasn’t much talking between the two of you while you were together, but you’d always wanted to try, envisioning the way his voice would sound while he said filthy things to you. You let out a huff of breath, feeling your legs trembling when he hasn’t even touched you yet.
When Seunghyun slips one finger inside of you, his mouth immediately presses to your clit, teasing with the tip of his tongue. You pull in a deep breath, watching him close his eyes as he tongues you, acting as though he loves it more than you do. His finger pumps into you all the way to his knuckle, now sucking on your clit.
“Fuck, Seunghyun,” you mutter, your knees buckling.
“Mhm,” he hums, pumping a little faster, and suddenly slipping his middle finger inside of you as well. Your hips buck against his face, and he laughs against you, his mouth opening so he can flick his tongue over your clit – the sensation of him breathing hard against you, panting as he eats you out, makes your head reel.
When his fingers curl inside of you, pressing that spot within you, the moan that you let out is needier than you thought possible. You fist his hair and bring your other hand to grab onto his shoulder to support your weight. You moan over and over, pleading with him and saying his name as if it’s all you know. Seunghyun chuckles against you, amused at the way you’re acting, which you assume is fair based on what you did to start all of this.
“I’m gonna–fuck, Seunghyun! I’m–”
“Mhm,” he hums against you, fingers pumping harder and faster.
It’s never been like this – desperate and needy, sloppy. Maybe you were both waiting for the other to take the next step. You’d have to ask him later, because now your vision begins to blur, your legs trembling as you feel your climax building faster.
You grind yourself against him, moaning and whimpering like you never have. The sound feels louder in the walls of the booth, and you can feel your eyes watering, sensations overwhelming you. Seunghyun eats you like a man possessed, like he’ll never have another opportunity – like he needs you.
“Fuck!” you moan, your climax hitting you hard.
Seunghyun keeps going, working every bit of it from you so you can ride the high as fully as possible. His other hand grips you hard to support you as he feels your knees begin to buckle and give out. You can’t focus on anything other than the waves of pleasure coursing through your entire body, moaning and whimpering his name.
When he finally slows to a stop, he carefully eases your leg from his shoulder, making sure you can stand on your shaky legs as he looks up at you. Your eyes focus on his face, watching him wipe his mouth on the inside of his shirt as he stares up at you with awe in his eyes. You hope that you return the admiration in your own gaze, but your body still trembles as you try to regulate.
“Your legs are trembling,” Seunghyun points out, his hands gently rubbing them. You try to come up with something sarcastic to say in response, but your mind is blank from anything except him. He places his hands on the back of your thighs, tugging you so you are on your knees in front of him now. He kisses you deeply, and you have the opportunity to kiss him like he did you, tasting yourself in every corner of his mouth. When the kiss stops, he grasps your jaw softly, stroking his thumb over your lips as you both stare into one another’s eyes. “Do you want to stay over tonight?” he asks, his voice so soft.
“You want to have a sleepover?” you tease, kissing his cheek.
“We could have dinner,” he says. “Maybe watch a movie. I know we don’t usually do that sort of thing, but…I thought we could try something different.” You bite your lip when you see the anticipation in his eyes, as though he thinks you’re going to tell him you’re not interested. You lean in to kiss him on the corner of his mouth before you answer.
“That sounds nice,” you smile. “Of course I’ll stay with you.” Seunghyun grins wider, leaning in to kiss you again.
“You guys are so cute!”
The voice that rings out over the intercom of the booth scares you both, sending you scrambling away from one another as if you were on fire. Seunghyun’s eyes are wide, and you hurry to pull your jeans back on, out of view of the person on the other side of the window in the control room. Seunghyun stands up, peering through the window, a flush hitting his cheeks.
“I think we could mix some of these moans into a backing track,” the voice goes on, and you recognize it finally – Daesung.
“Fuck,” you grumble, finally fully clothed again so you can stand and join Seunghyun in looking through the window. Both Daesung and Taeyang are standing in the control room, laughing maniacally as they see the expressions on your faces.
“You assholes!” Seunghyun exclaims, his tone whiny and angry at once. “You didn’t record that, did you? Jiyong will kill us if–”
“No, we didn’t,” Taeyang says, calming his laughter enough to speak. “But you should really be more careful. Jiyong is in the booth down the hall, and he could have just as easily caught you.” Seunghyun sighs, taking your hand gently as he leads you from the booth and back into the control room.
“So, how long has this been going on?” Daesung asks, gesturing between the two of you.
“Do you pay my bills?” you ask, knitting your eyebrows together as you peer back at Daesung.
“Oh, it’s ‘baby’, is it?” Daesung laughs. “It must really be serious.”
Seunghyun spends the next several minutes trying to convince his bandmates to keep your secret, begging and offering them whatever they wanted in exchange for their silence. You tune out, too focused on Seunghyun still holding your hand, fingers laced with yours. You focus on Daesung’s teasing of the nature of your relationship, and the way Seunghyun didn’t correct him. And most importantly, you focus on your night with Seunghyun, and what else will come of your relationship.
⏦ﾟ♡︎ “we could get a bit more risky if you’d like”
୨ৎ pairing: boyfriend!seunghyun x fem reader
୨ৎ genre: fluff! suggestive! perfect mix of heart warming, sweet, and spicy!
୨ৎ summary: seunghyun’s always been the type to tease, be affectionate, and act cute with you not caring who sees or hears. sometimes it becomes a bit too much and that’s when your shyness hits an all time high and your forced to playfully push him away but.. he never budges. this is seunghyun we’re talking about.
୨ৎ from myeong: hello!! so happy to be taking this request of course! anything for sweet seunghyun 🥹 I hope you enjoy this!! x
seunghyun stands in front of the crowd giving a small speech about how excited, delighted, and satisfied he is with all the squid game love. your glossed lips curl up into a gentle smile watching him turn into a man that you’ve always dreamed of seeing, a man that is much happier, confident, and comfortable being himself. it took many years of hardship and a tight bond you both had to get him to this point but it was well worth it. marriage wasn’t something that was constantly on your mind but the thought of marrying him and giving him a child sounded like a life you could definitely start living. as seunghyun finished up the speech he bowed and made his way over to you his arms immediately wrapping around your waist, pulling you into his chest like he loved doing so much. shocked? just a little bit. being on the much shyer side had always gotten in the way of his pda but he found it insanely adorable and that’s why he continued such pda just to see your cute expression every time he’d kiss, touch, or grab you.
“I’m so proud of you.” the whisper sweetly leaves your lips and you press a gentle but quick kiss to his cheek before pulling away completely—or at least tried too before his strong grip pulled you back into him, “where’s my girl goin’ hm? not leaving me so fast.” his deep voice always sent chills down your spine and thankfully the crowd around you weren’t too focused on the scene that played out in front of them. slipping your hand around his much warmer one and pulling him towards the table you both sat at before he was called up to speak, seunghyun stopped you before you could sit back down with a evident smirk across his thin lips. “what—” not being able to finish when he pulled you into his lap letting his hands find your waist rubbing at the thin fabric of your sundress he picked out for you to wear. “I think it’s only fair that everyone here knows we’re together.” a light chuckle left him and you playfully rolled your eyes, “don’t you agree? I mean.. we could get a bit more risky if you’d like.” and with that his lips found the back of your neck placing a few open mouthed kisses to the soft skin before pulling away and blowing on the area, “seunghyun! people can see us..” a giggle left your lips despite trying to sound irritated at his behavior, he knew that you loved it.
“this dress looks so good on you..” and just as you were about to reply to him lee jungjae walked up and took a seat in front of you both only causing warmth to rush through your entire body—just a bit embarrassed by how you had been sitting on your boyfriend’s lap at an event. slowly seunghyun started to speak with him about how difficult filming for this season was for the both of them, finding yourself playing with his long fingers that had been wrapped around your waist tapping in a gentle manner. although he had been doing so much better the anxiety still took over at times and with you here it was a way to calm himself down and know that things were perfectly safe and sound.
another man walked up and grabbed the attention of jungjae which meant seunghyun was no longer interested in their conversation and his head turned to you, leaning in to press his lips against your own. this had been the most affectionate he’s ever been in public and you couldn’t wrap your head around why. “is everything okay?” you asked quietly before his lips pressed against yours again in a almost possessive way. “mhm, always.” his reply was short and sweet because he wasn’t finished with you just yet large hands finding the top of your bare thighs and giving them each a squeeze. at this point it felt like it was just you two here until you heard the familiar voice of lee byunghun and immediately stood from his lap, bowing to the older man in front of you. “I see he can’t keep his hands off you.” byunghun chuckled enjoying how much in love seunghyun was with you and you turned to give him a playful glare before sitting down in your own seat although it didn’t take seunghyun long to take ahold of your hand and pull it towards his lips pressing a few kisses to each finger. “you’re being so affectionate, why? I’m not complaining but.. people have been looking at us for a few minutes now.” a deep chuckle left his chest and he took the time to look around at said people who were supposedly staring at you both.
“who cares, my love. can’t a man be in love with his gorgeous girl and show intimacy, hm? it’s not like we’re having sex on the table.” and you reached over to slap at his chest not believing the words that just came from his lips, especially with byunghun right in front of you two. seunghyun shrugged his broad shoulders before standing up and pulling you up along with him, “why don’t we go dance? or maybe we can take a short bathroom break? and no we won’t be using the bathroom.” an annoyed groan left your lips and he pulled your back towards his chest letting his arms wrap around your waist, “oh hush. I know you enjoy this too much.” his voice against your ear made your knees weak and you slowly nodded your head not wanting to nod at all and agree with him but that would be lying.
Summary: a night spent in your house with careless flirting with your dad’s best friend leads to moral boundaries being crossed and you beneath him.
Warnings: 18+ mdni! Smut, p in v, just the tip that leads to more, he covers her mouth with his hand, age gap (Inho is in his mid 40s and reader mid 20s), dad best friend trope, alcohol consumption for both of them, making out, English isn’t my first language<3
Word count: 5.2k+
Note: welcome to our first fic on this blog! This is Rue and you’re reading a fic written by me and beta-read by my bestie Mari who is also an admin on here! We both write and co-write each other’s fics and run this blog together! I hope you enjoy our first post here. Remember that comments and reblogs are always appreciated💕
“Get your pens, baby!” Gi-Hun yells from downstairs, frantically looking around the house for his daughter’s pens to pack her things and drop her back at her mother’s place.
His hysteria causes you to worry too, collecting your sister’s clothes from around the house in a hurry so she can leave on time without worrying her mother — it is quite funny, calling her your sister. In contrast, you call your adoptive father by his name. Perhaps she has made a place in your heart much faster than Gi-Hun.
“Found them, Daddy!” She squeals and smiles when she sees you, jumping up and down as she raises her fists for you to grab the pens and put them in one of the many bags you are holding. “I’m gonna miss you!”
“I’m gonna miss you too, sweetie!” You kiss her forehead, letting her drop her stuff in the bag you’re holding out for her before she dashes downstairs to help her father, leaving you to pick up the rest of her stuff, “Slow down!”
“Sweetheart,” Gi-Hun calls you, looking up when you walk towards them with two bags slung over your shoulders, “I don’t know if In-ho will come tonight or not, but could you please look out for him until I get back? Just make sure he doesn’t feel uncomfortable.”
“Of course, don’t worry about it,” you smile, dropping the bags on the couch, helping your father gather the rest of your sister’s belongings, and frantically chasing the little girl around to make sure she doesn’t destroy another part of the house. She is trying to help, she really is, but sometimes her enthusiasm gets the best of her and no one can control her antics.
With a sigh, Gi-Hun stands up and follows her to her room, leaving you alone to take care of the rest of her stuff in the sitting room, putting her coloring books and pencils in one of the bags before you hear the sound of the doorbell ringing.
“Coming!” You say when the doorbell rings again, walking to the front door to open it, smiling softly when you find In-ho standing there with a bouquet of white lilies, patiently waiting for you to invite him in, “Hey!”
“Hello, darling,” he beams at you, the pet name rolling on his tongue so smoothly that makes your knees weak, “I thought I should come here and keep you company while your father’s gone.”
“Thank you, I really appreciate it—“ you are cut off by a loud grumbling noise coming from upstairs, showing how your father and sister are trying their best to find her socks so they can finally leave, “You arrived in the middle of the chaos.”
“Oh, no,” he says playfully, “I think I should leave before–“
“No, uh uh,” you pull him in by his free hand, chuckling when he shoots you a glare but lets you guide him inside, shutting the door behind him. You turn around to look at him, crossing your arms over your chest when you see the shocked look on his face as he scans the mess in your house, “Don’t worry, they’ll be gone in a few minutes.”
“I’m not worried about myself,” he shrugs, taking off his shoes, and pushing them to the corner next to the wall, “More worried for you because he is about to leave you with these to deal with.”
“Who says I’m gonna clean up after them?” You say, eyeing the bouquet he is holding, pursing your lips before you ask, “Going on a date, are you?”
“No,” he chuckles, making the blood rush to your cheeks, his warm brown orbs finding yours as he smiles softly, “These are for you, actually.”
“What?” You sigh slowly, looking from his eyes to the bouquet he is extended in front of you, lips parted in surprise as he hands you the flowers, “Thank you, you didn’t have to.”
“I wanted to,” he pats your head, walking past you towards the sitting room, nearly tripping over the legos spread on the floor, “I could leave if you have a lot to do. Handling a kid can’t be easy.”
“Would you please sit down? I won’t do anything, I swear, besides, I’m not the one handling a child. It’s Gi-Hun’s job,” you say, parting ways with him, moving towards the Kitchen to put the flowers in the water, placing the bouquet on the counter as you grab a vase and fill it, and gently lowering the flowers into the water after you pick them up.
“I hope you like them,” In-ho exclaims, following you in the kitchen and leaning on the counter, resting his weight on his hips and looking at you with a soft expression, “I didn’t have time to buy your father anything so I picked these up on my way here.”
“You don’t have to buy us anything,” you tell him, putting the vase between the two of you on the counter, standing in front of him, taking a good look at his attire — a light blue shirt with the first two buttons undone and bright beige pants that made him look more attractive in the eyes, completed by a brown bracelet on his left hand.
You look away from him as soon as you hear the rushed footsteps of your father and sister on the stairs, clearing your throat when Gi-Hun comes in to say goodbye to you.
“Hey, man,” he laughs softly, patting In-ho on the shoulder, “You didn’t tell me you were coming! We would have prepared something for you.”
“It’s all good,” In-ho smiles back, glancing from his friend to you, his smile widening slightly as he looks at you before he turns back to your father, “I’ve been here a thousand times, you don’t need to do anything.”
“Yeah, well, please enjoy yourself while I’m gone,” Gi-Hun turns to you, looking at you with a soft expression on his face, “I’ll be back in an hour or so, think of something to get for dinner on my way home, yeah?”
“Will do,” you reply, walking out of the kitchen to say goodbye to your little sister, bending down to hug her tightly, “Be good for your mom, okay? I’m gonna miss you so much.”
“I’m gonna miss you too!” She wraps her little arms around you, hugging you tightly before Gi-Hun and In-ho come into sight, your father picking up the numerous bags. Your sister lets go of you and grabs Gi-Hun’s free hand, waving goodbye as they walk to the door, “Goodbye sister! Goodbye Uncle In-ho!”
“Goodbye, little one,” In-ho waves back, helping you on your feet with a steady hand grabbing your arm, pulling you to his side with ease, the muscles under his shirt bulging with every movement of his hand.
“Okay,” you stumble on your feet a little, grounding yourself by a hand on his shoulder as you both say your goodbyes to Gi-Hun, “Drive safe!”
In-ho sighs as soon as the chaotic duo leave the house, running a hand down his face before he glances at your tired face. He smirks when he catches you dropping your forehead on his shoulder, exhaling deeply as the exhaustion overtakes you.
“Poor girl,” he mocks you a little, his tone soft and playful, “He must be working you out all the time, yeah?”
“Don’t remind me,” you groan, resting your cheek on his chest now under his chin, breathing in his cold, calm and smoky cologne, shuddering suddenly when he rests his palm on your waist to hold you close, “I love them both so much, but handling them at the same time is not for the weak.”
You can feel him lean down a bit, resting his cheek on your head as he lets you calm down a little. He gently rubs your back up and down while he listens to your soft breathing, closing his eyes and smelling the sweet scent of your perfume — just like how you are breathing in him.
“Thank you,” you pull away, your gaze meeting his piercing ones, and to your shock, he holds your eyes in an intense eye contact, staring deep into your orbs with the most captivating look he possesses. You swallow loudly, clearly flustered by the little distance left between you before you pat his chest lightly and untangle yourself from his embrace, moving towards the kitchen, “Do you want a drink?”
“Urm, yeah, please,” he clears his throat and follows you, pushing his hands into his pants pockets, watching as you shuffle around the fridge, pulling out two bottles of beer, “You don’t have any whiskey around?”
“I do, but it’s Gi-Hun’s bottles, you know how protective he is of his booze,” you explain, putting the cold bottles on the round table in the kitchen, opening a cabinet to pull out a bag of nuts for him to eat with his drink, “Make yourself at home!”
“Thank you, darling,” he says, sitting down in front of you, grabbing the bottle in his hand while he watches you sigh and sit, “Fuck, sorry, let me grab a—”
You don’t even have the chance to finish your sentence because he grabs the glass bottle and brings it to his mouth, putting the lid between his teeth before he pops the lid and slides the bottle towards you, holding the other one to open his own, taking a long swig from his drink.
“Wow,” you chuckle, taking a sip from your own beer, eyes twinkling with mischief, “You really like showing off your useless talents.”
“Useless? I opened your beer with my teeth so you wouldn’t have to move and you call it useless? Ungrateful brat,” He smirks at you, hiding his smile behind his bottle when you gasp and snort, shaking your head in disapproval.
“I’m not a brat because I don’t find your strong teeth charming,” You lean back on your chair, crossing one leg over the other, watching him closely as his eyes drift down your figure before he looks away quickly, busying himself with the cold beverage he has in hand, “Maybe a brat because I didn’t thank you, but still, I’ve been nothing but a good host so far.”
“Giving me a bag of nuts doesn’t make you a good host, darling,” he shrugs, chuckling softly when he hears your groan, “I'm sure your father has lots of snacks to nurse on with his drinks.”
“You’ll be shocked to know he doesn’t buy anything, our fridge is almost empty every day,” You sigh, leaning on the table, subconsciously pushing your chest closer to each other, making it so much harder for In-ho to keep his composure and not let his eyes slide down from your face, “I usually do the grocery shopping because he is lazy and has no idea what to buy. Unfortunately, we had his daughter over this week, so everything I bought is now gone.”
“Poor girl, perhaps you should come live with me, at least I can cook,” In-ho says, leaning forward, pushing the sleeves of his bright blue shirt up to his elbows before resting his upper body on the table like you, and has to stop himself from smirking when he sees your eyes fall onto his thick forearms before you look away and meet his eyes, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” you clear your throat, shrugging and trying to act as if the simplest action of him doesn’t have you all hot and bothered, “Just thinking of what you can cook. Ramen, right?”
“Cheeky,” he laughs, straightening himself before he rests his back on the chair, spreading his legs before he adjusts his pants, his eyes never leaving yours, “That’s your dad’s specialty. I can cook anything you would like.”
“Really? Like what?” You lean down on the back of your hands, resting your palms on the table as you look at him, watching how his Adam’s apple bobs with every sip he takes, licking his pink lips after he finishes his bottle.
“Whatever you can think of.”
“I don’t want food, what can you buy for me?” You ask, grinning at him when he throws his head back and laughs, giving you a view of his long neck, “I’m serious! You have tons of money, why don’t you spend it on gifts for others?”
“I got you flowers, is that not enough for you, darling?” He smirks, licking his bottom lip as he stands up to get another bottle for himself, making you turn around and watch him closely as he bends down to grab his drink, then standing next to you while showing off his useless talent again and opening his beer, “What do you want?”
“A car would be a nice start,” You roll your eyes and chuckle when he shakes his head and cocks and eyebrow at you, “You said anything, I’m just listening to you.”
“Now you wanna be a good girl? Well, I am not complaining,” he replies, scoffing when you grin up at him, “Come on, something more achievable, darling.”
“And what if I don’t want anything else?” You ask, eyes not leaving his warm brown irises for a second, “Besides, you said anything, that word does not have a limit.”
“Don’t make me regret coming over,” he mutters, reaching to tilt your chin upward with his pointer finger, leaning down as well to get closer to you, “If it’s a car you want, a car you’ll get, but it doesn’t really benefit me now, does it?”
“Why should it benefit you?” You say with a strained voice, shaky and already out of breath as he keeps your chin up and leans down even more, “It’s a gift, not a favor.”
“Darling,” he mutters, his thumb coming to rest on top of your chin, pinching it lightly between his digits, “Do you think I don’t deserve a thank you if I give you a car? Are you that ungrateful?”
“I—“ You bite your lip, and with each second that passes, it gets harder to look into his eyes. There are too many feelings swirling in them, flooding his deep chocolate colored orbs with an intensity you have never seen before, “Maybe I am.”
“Too bad—“
This is the first time you get the urge to punch someone in the face — because not only do you hear the sound of keys jingling, you can hear your father cursing under his breath as he tries to open the door.
In-ho is quick to pull himself away from you, leaving you frowning and seething at your father. He tries to act nonchalant, none the wiser, walking towards the door with one hand in his pocket to say hi to Gi-hun.
“Welcome back.”
“Ah! I see you have made yourself at home!” Gi-hun grunts as he holds the numerous bags of food in one hand while he shuts the door, gesturing for In-ho to come and save the day, “You didn’t tell me what you wanted, kiddo. I just bought the food from the nearest restaurant.”
“It’s okay, thank you! I totally forgot to call you earlier about it,” you give him an awkward smile, trying to seem engaged in another work so he doesn’t notice the lack of plates and the empty beer bottles on the table, but it seems In-ho beats you to it and tells your father everything.
“We started without you,” In-ho sighs, gently laying the bags on the dining table where you were sitting and immediately starts unpacking them, “I was pretty thirsty and asked for a drink. I thought she’d give me something stronger, but beer had to do.”
“As if I could touch any of my father’s expensive bottles,” You stand up as well, helping the men to pull out the food boxes, taking each of them out before disposing of the bags, sitting down next to In-ho as Gi-hun sits in front of you both.
“Beer won’t do!” Your father stands up and walks to the cupboard next to the fridge, pulling out a large bottle of whiskey with two glasses, finally coming back to the table to pour the amber liquor for himself and his guest, “C’mon! Enjoy the night with us!”
“I will,” In-ho replies, grabbing his glass as he and Gi-hun clink their glasses together, turning his gaze to you before he says, “I already am.”
You do not dare to utter a word, you simply can’t say anything. His eyes are piercing into yours with a burning passion one has yet to see, and it seems he is also getting lost in the gaze, shaking his head as soon as he hears Gi-hun talking.
You try to keep up with their conversation, interrupting them here and there to not get bored for the rest of the night. Unfortunately, whatever they are talking about is not nearly as interesting as In-ho’s thigh brushing against yours — With how distracted you were, you have no idea when he decided to move his chair closer to you.
You can’t hear what Gi-hun says, but In-ho’s laugh echoes in the house, and with a rising heartbeat, you turn your head to look at him; his eyes are closed, lips parted as the deep sound of his laughter fills your ears, and to your dismay, he looks at you, the laughter turned into a soft smile.
“Right, folks, I don’t think I can keep up with you anymore. That little girl exhausted me to my bones,” Gi-hun sighs, running a hand over his face, “I can’t keep up with you tonight unfortunately.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll clean up, goodnight,” you smile at your father, waving back as he stands up to leave. You watch as In-ho does the same, standing up to leave before Gi-hun stops him.
“Where are you going? We have a guest room for a reason, I won’t let you drive at such an hour while you’re drunk.”
“No, it’s better to leave, besides I’d hate to keep up your girl—“
“It’s no problem, really,” you cut him off unexpectedly, catching his wrist under the table before he has the chance to fully straighten his back, pulling on his hand slightly so he can sit down again, “I don’t really sleep at this hour, so yeah, I can keep you company.”
“See? She’s a life saver!” Gi-hun says and finally turns his back to the two of you, “Goodnight! Don’t stay up too late!”
“Of course,” In-ho nods and sits down without brushing your touch off, watching as his friend walks upstairs to his room, leaving you alone inside the dimly lit kitchen. He turns his head to look at you, suddenly the distance between the chairs seems nonexistent, “What was that all about?”
“What?” You ask, dumbfounded and skin burning against him the longer you hold on to his hand, “What…What do you mean?”
“I mean, darling…” he gently pulls your hand off his wrist and puts his palm on your upper thigh, gently squeezing the flesh as he leans closer, “Do you really like spending time with me that much? I’m honored.”
“I…I do,” you whisper, lips parting in surprise when he tightens his grip on your thigh, his hand moving upper slowly, “In-ho, what are you doing?”
“Something you are clearly enjoying, am I wrong?” He leans closer, nudging your cheek with his nose, and he catches your eyes falling down to his lips, “Fuck, you’re killing me.”
He doesn’t let you respond. Instead, he closes the distance between the two of you slowly, pressing his lips to yours very softly, giving you enough time to pull away — but you don’t. You take your time kissing him, softly moving your lips while he nibbles on your bottom lip, his free hand moving to your waist to pull you closer.
The kiss is everything you have ever imagined; it is warm and makes you melt with how heat radiates from the sync movements of your lips. You feel him tilt his head to deepen the kiss, gently sinking his teeth down onto your bottom lip while his hand on your waist pulls you and your chair closer to him, making a loud, unbearable noise.
“Shhh,” you break the kiss and giggle shyly, “We can’t wake up Gi-hun.”
“Fuck, you’re right—“ he pulls away as if you have said something that hurt him deeply, “We shouldn’t be doing this.”
“What? No! I—“ you cup his face in your hands, making sure he is looking at you and not hiding his face, “I didn’t mean it like that. I want to do this, my father will never know about this, I promise.”
“We can’t, darling,” he kisses your forehead, his hand coming up to caress your head, “It is wrong, not only am I your father’s closest friend, but I am also twice your age—“
“I don’t care,” you peck his lips and to your surprise, he kisses back, “I need you, I don’t have the strength to keep away.”
“Stop talking—“
He silences you by kissing you, grabbing your waist to pull you into his lap, now both hands resting on your hips while he moves his lips against yours with more passion than before, relishing in the sigh you let out while he kneads the fat of your hips.
In-ho’s lips don’t part from yours for even a second, and you are thankful because you are sure your lips are swollen and your face is morphed with longing for him. You wrap your arms around his neck, pushing your chest against his while he sucks the breath out of your lungs.
You break the kiss, gasping for air with your foreheads pressed together, and you look down into his eyes only to find him physically craving to taste you once more.
You push the few strands of his hair that have fallen on his forehead upward, playing with the hair on the nape of his neck as his hands begin to wander over your back, feeling the warmth of your body under his subtle touch.
“Let’s go,” you pull away and stand up, dragging him out of the chair towards the stairs. He doesn’t protest and follows you silently, walking behind you until you reach your room across your father’s room at the end of the hallway, “Come.”
You pull him in, and in an instant, he is on you, kissing you with a vulgar and rising desire, cradling your face in his palms, backing you towards your bed without breaking apart from you.
He lets go of your lips for a second when the back of your knees hit the edge of the bed, and you fall on your bed, lying back as you look up at him, watching the rapid rise and fall of his chest and how disheveled he looks — you haven’t even started anything and he already looks so satisfied.
“We mustn’t go all the way,” he whispers as he crawls on top of you, holding himself up by his hands next to your head, humming in encouragement when you spread your legs enough for him to settle between them, “Keep it for another time, perhaps.”
“If you are saying this because of me, then just know that I’m okay if we do this… completely,” you breathe out, looking up into his eyes, watching as he leans down slowly, pulling your lips into a soft quick kiss, “Another time?”
“Maybe, darling,” he keeps pecking your lips, trailing his kisses from your lips to your cheek, rocking his hips forward, making you feel the ache in his pants, “For now, we must make sure you keep quiet.”
You bite your lip when he sucks a mark on your sensitive skin, lapping up on every inch he can get his tongue on, savoring the taste of your perfume — bitter or not — as he takes his time. But apparently, his self-control is near breaking with how he rubs the evident bulge in his pants against your clothed core.
“Fuck,” he groans and reaches down to undo your pants, pulling the fabric down urgently, straightening his back fully, and you take this chance to ubutton his shirt and push it off his broad shoulders, gasping sightly as you caress his heated skin from his collarbones down to his stomach, noticing how the muscles move as he gets rid of your pants.
You take off your shirt too, lying down beneath him with nothing on but your bra and underwear, legs resting against his hips while he runs the pad of his fingers along the length of your thighs.
“Please, don’t keep me waiting,” you whine, hands traveling down his v-line until you reach the pulsing tent that clearly needs some relief, “Please…”
“Fine, fine,” he breathes out, unzipping his pants and pushing it down to his knees with his briefs, sighing as his throbbing cock springs free, resting against his abdomen, “Fuck, darling, do you see what you do me? I’ve been aching all night for you.”
“In-ho…” you say, hands shyly wrapping around his dick, slowly moving up and down his length, eyes never leaving his face as he tips his head back and groans in delight when you squeeze his base, “Need to feel you.”
He opens his eyes and looks down at the wet spot on your underwear, cursing under his breath as he starts rubbing your cunt over your panties. His eyes darken even more when he sees how you start to tremble with the simplest touch.
In-ho pushes your panties aside, exhaling sharply when he finds out exactly how wet you are for him; folds drenched and arousal coating all over your pussy. His thumb traces your lower lips before he inches upward, circling your clit slowly, smirking when you close your eyes and grab the sheets.
“You look so beautiful,” he whispers, his free hand wrapping around yours as he guides your hand up and down on his cock faster, his thumb’s pace matching yours, “I can’t wait to see you fall apart for me.”
You gasp when he presses down on the bundle of nerves. With your head thrown back, you buck your hips against his finger, and with each stroke, you can feel how he does the same, thrusting into your fist faster.
But he pushes your hand away suddenly, positioning himself between your legs as he rests his cock over your cunt, rubbing himself over you with intensity. He grabs a hold of your hips, thrusting his cock against your clit, letting your wetness coat his cock with each snap of his hips.
“Put it in, I must feel you—“
“I can’t, darling,” he gasps, squeezing your hips, “We can’t do more than this because if Gi-hun ever finds out—“
“Just the tip! Please, In-ho, this is what I want! You said anything, just put the tip in!” You nearly whine again loudly, your hands holding onto his forearms, “He won’t find out, nothing will change.”
“You’re just begging to be ruined,” he spits the words out, grabbing his cock from the base, slapping the head against your sensitive nerves before lines up himself with your soaked entrance, circling the hole before he pushes in very slowly, his nails digging into your hip while yours break through his skin, “Fuck, darling.”
The sound he makes almost makes you come on spot, and with the thick head of his cock stretching you out, you know you won’t be able to hold back much longer.
“You’re so warm,” he groans, trying his best not to snap his hips forward and fuck you like an animal. He reminds himself he must hold back, he must make sure he doesn’t lose his composure and get lost in the way your walls pulsate and hold onto his cock so beautifully.
“Please, move—“ you gasp when his thumb starts circling again as soon as he pulls out barely and thrusts back inside as gently as he can — just the tip — because if he lets go of the little restraint he has mustered up to keep, he will pin you to the bed all night.
“Not enough, In-ho—“ you reply, locking your legs around his waist, pulling him in as best as you can, but he stops you by grabbing your jaw forcefully, nails digging in your cheeks, and he leans down to look directly into your eyes.
“It has to be enough,” he groans when he feels you tightening your inner walls around him, “Don’t. You’re treading on thin ice already.”
“I need it—“
“Fine, have it your way.”
He doesn’t let go of your face when he bottoms out in one thrust, resting his forehead on yours as he shakes atop of you, his balls resting against the curve of your ass.
If it wasn’t for his hand, you would be moaning his name out loud for the entire neighborhood to hear. He fills you up to the brim, stretching your walls out deliciously, giving you exactly what you want.
You are close, and more importantly, judging by the way his cock throbs inside of you, he is close too. You bite his thumb when he starts moving in and out, his hips snapping to yours and his cock nudging those sweet spots deep inside you that has your head swirling with pleasure.
Your hands go to his broad shoulders, scratching and rubbing his skin while he fucks you; no sign of any self control whatsoever. He moves quickly but carefully, after all, he does not wish to wake his friend up and get caught giving a mind-blowing orgasm to his friend’s daughter.
The knot in your stomach breaks, legs shaking and chest heaving as your peak washes over your body, euphoria rushing through your veins while In-ho keeps his pace, fucking you through your orgasm until he reaches his high.
He pulls out immediately, stroking himself until he shoots his load on your stomach and bra, throwing his head back as he sits up on his knees, his dick twitching while he pumps his cum all over you. He falls next to you on the bed, both of your bodies shaking with the aftermath of the ecstatic moment you experienced.
“I don’t want to, but I must go to the guest room,” he tells you gently, reaching to tuck your hair behind your ear, “I wish I could stay longer but…”
“Don’t worry, I will clean up myself,” you smile, turning your head to kiss his palm, “Besides, we can’t risk getting caught.”
He nods and sits up on the bed, pulling his pants and briefs on before he reaches for his shirt on the ground, standing up to get dressed before he leaves.
“I never understand why your father has a four bedroom house while he is in debt,” he tries to make small talk, making you chuckle and lean up on your elbows, “It’s not rational.”
“Gi-hun is greedy,” you shrug, “He loves to spend and hates to make money.”
“That explains it,” he sighs, pushing his hands into the pockets of his pants, “Goodnight, darling. Again, I’m sorry you have to deal with that all by yourself.”
summary: After a reckless hookup leaves you buying a pregnancy test in a pharmacy, the last person you expect to run into is your father’s wealthy but quietly tortured friend, Joel Miller—sparking a forbidden, dangerously irresistible affair where passion, power, and vulnerability collide.
Hey so… I thought of this at like 1am. These are so random I just can’t. These are just my thoughts idc if they are out of character im just bored. If you don’t like this feel free to scroll
While wearing his suits he definitely has some weird ass socks on underneath that can’t be seen
Picky eater
The glasses stay ONNNNN if you know what I mean
A giggle machine when he’s drunk
Would also drunk call you and just laugh. No words just his giggles and will get sad if you hang up first
Certified munch
Tits or ass? Both. He just can’t decide which is better so why not enjoy the best of both worlds
Would definitely be the type of guy to hide behind the door in every room you walk into just so he can scare you
Blows cigarette smoke in your face but will instantly feel bad when you start coughing (I have asthma and this did happen to me)
If you go out clubbing with your friends he won’t join you but will text you every 30 minutes to check in on you
Kinky asf
Sangwoo the type of guy to slip on a banana peel
He keeps a diary hidden under the bed
Would be pissed if you got a cat without consulting him first but would end up loving and treating the cat like his own child
You guys play strip poker in your free time. He just wants to get you flustered
Secretly loves being the little spoon
If you have a little niche interest that you have collectibles for, he will search high and low all over the city to help you complete your collection
Sucker for cheesy rom-coms but will never say it out loud
Used to have a pet rock as a child
When you guys shower together he puts your hair into a Mohawk but will make it up to you by soaping up your tits
At the beginning of your relationship before you guys moved in together he would go all the way across town just to use the bathroom because he was so nervous he would scare you off
He keeps snacks in his briefcase
His biggest pet peeve is when people chew with their mouths open
