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getitoutofmymindwrites · 2 months

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The falling | joel miller x f!reader, 5k

Summary: It’s a weird feeling, the moment you realize you’ve lost everything. You're falling. It is never ending, the falling, even after the moment, that exact moment, is long gone. Or you catch Joel cheating on you. The world comes crushing down.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, ANGST. That's it. Ok, bye. But seriously, angst, a whole lot of angst, alternated POVs, husband!joel, wife!reader, cheater!joel, married couple, Joel fucks another f!person, reference to sexual activity but nothing too detailed, as I said before-ANGST, excessive use of the word fuck, Joel is kind of a dick on this one, as always let me know if I missed anything!

A/N: Let me know how you feel about this lost little puppy, I know he sounds arrogant and awful, maybe I can rectify that, on a second part. If you're interested in a closure for these two, hit me in the comments! Thank you for taking the time to read anything I write! Love you all! 🥰😘

Dividers by @cafekitsune & @saradika-graphics

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It’s a weird feeling, the moment you realize you’ve lost everything.

Everything dear and loved and cherished and so close to your heart. Your heart itself.

You still can’t decide if it’s liberating or torturing, to have that exact moment burned in your thoughts like a Polaroid.

But the pain is real. The pain is excruciating. It spreads like vines through your whole body, starting from the pit of your stomach in the form of a bile you try to hold back, moving to your heart’s agonizing clench, licking to the ends of your numb limbs which remain obstinately immobile. It feels almost like floating, but not exactly.

You’re falling; you’re still falling as if there’s no luxurious, expensive floor underneath your feet, holding you surprisingly still up. You wait for the landing, the crush, unmoving, unblinking, not quite breathing. It is never ending, the falling, even after the moment, that exact moment, is long gone.

Your designer’s tote bag, another unnecessarily extravagant gift from your husband, drops from your hands to the floor with a loud thud.

Joel’s thrusts stop immediately and he turns his head to look behind him, while he’s on his knees, balls deep in a female body on all fours. His eyes shut tightly in something you’re not sure how to interpret, dropping his head between his shoulder blades and his palms squeeze the hips of the female body he's holding, until his fingertips go white.

And you’re just standing there, on the threshold of your bedroom, taking in the scene. It’s weird how the mind works under stressful situations. Is the absurdity of the reality that keeps you calm? Is it your brain’s reaction to protect you from collapsing? Are you shutting down right now?

You feel your eyes unable to move around and at the same time you see clearer than ever, as if you’re looking through a wide-angle lens.

You notice all of the stripped clothes, which they don’t seem hastily taken off, the way they pool on various surfaces of the room; they took their time undressing each other.

You notice the crystal tumbler of a half finished liquid, Joel’s whiskey, on his side of the nightstand; they took their time having fun.

You notice the absence of a condom on Joel’s cock as he removes himself from the female hole he was buried deep, all splayed out for him and now you; they took their time before, it seems, there is an intimacy there. This is not a stranger, this is not a first time.

Joel is calm, collected even, as he stands to his full height, grabbing his pants from the floor next to the king sized bed and putting them on. Calculated, steady movements, he looks like he’s trying to stay in control of the situation, diminish it to something else. You pray he doesn’t go down that path.

You look behind him, the female body’s gathering itself into a ball, sitting on your bed now, hands hugging it’s knees, trying to protect its nudity. Your eyes roam her form until they settle on her face. Oh, you know her. She looks -hm, there’s a mosaic of emotions behind her eyes, which are surprisingly bold to look back at you. You see shock, you see fear, you see.. satisfaction?

“Darlin’” Joel’s approaching you, crossing the ridiculously big room, with a steady pace.

His chest is heaving from the effort to regulate his breathing, he’s sweaty, his muscles all bulged from the interrupted fucking, his curls -your curls, fuck, that hurts- damp. He’s so handsome in all his disheveled form. He looks like your Joel.

Imaginary flashes of her fingertips combing through his hair are passing through your mind and you feel your esophagus contracting, a sense of a burning hot liquid moving up to your mouth. You swallow it down.

He reaches to touch your arm, don’t you dare, is all you mutter lowly, still without moving a muscle as if you do, the world will come crushing down. It already did, didn’t you get the memo? Your voice feels foreign to your ears, your tongue feels rough like sandpaper. He obeys.

When does this falling end?

“Baby-”, he tries again, while he steps forward, a condescending tone to his voice, like he’s addressing a toddler.

“Don’t-”, you roll your eyes in your head, god, he smells so good, even with the sweat someone else poured out of his skin, he smells so fucking good. He smells like your Joel. “Don’t come any closer.”

“This-” he exhales heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration, as if it’s an unnecessary effort to explain, as if you should understand; of all people, you should know, “this doesn’t mean anything-” his hand gesturing between him and the female body, “she doesn’t mean anything.” You should understand, baby, you should know.

And for the first time her eyes leave yours and land on the face of the deceiver. If this wasn’t happening to you right now, you would take pity on her pained expression. You almost feel sorry for her. Almost.

“Does she know that?” you ask him, your eyes never leaving her tangled form on your bed.

Joel snaps his head to her direction, narrowing his eyes in warning, “Yes, she does.”, his voice comes out strict and final, signaling there’s no room for doubt. He doesn’t sound like your Joel.

“I need you to leave.”, you breathe barely audible, your eyes still on her face; now she doesn’t know where to look, the rug pulled out from under her feet from the man she had inside her minutes ago.

His gaze is cold and indifferent, as if everything is her fault, looking still in her direction. She looks like a deer caught in the headlights, the empathetic part of your brain feels for her.

“Get your shit and get the fuck out, what are you waiting for?” he snaps at her.

“Not her, you.” you whisper, it’s impossible to speak louder, all of your energy powers your two standing feet.

He turns to look at you, shocked, eyes wide, mouth slightly agape.

“Wh- what are you talking about, sweetheart?” he tries to reason with you, “We need to talk, to-”

“Joel-”, you try again and thank god he’s interrupting you, you don’t have the strength to negotiate right now. Let the dice roll. It’s all fucked, anyway.

“This is my home; I’m not leaving.” he simply states, shaking his head from side to side, staring at you expectantly.

“You’re right. This is your house.” you acknowledge, coming to a painful realization. “Everything is yours; you own everything, don’t you?”, you smile sadly, crouching down to collect you bag.

You turn on your heels and leave the residence formerly known and felt as home, behind you.

Alarm system disabled.

Joe’s hairs are rising on the nape of his neck, when he checks the alarm app notification on his phone, thinking you came back home.

It’s been an awful month without you, without being able to contact you. He knew where you were of course, he could not for the life of him leave that information escape him, but he didn’t pressure you with an unexpected visit, he knew better.

It’s been a month. That’s plenty of time. You took your time and now you’re ready to talk. You have to be, this can’t be the end of this relationship, this marriage.

He presses your number and hits call. Fuck, he’s still blocked. Maybe you forgot to unblock him, it’s ok, it doesn’t mean anything.

He checks the house’s cameras. Shit. That’s not you. What is she doing there? What the fuck is going on? Alright, he’s going back to the house.

He stands on his feet, right in the middle of a meeting with the board and just leaves them. There’s a distant muttering of where does he think he goes, what happened, what’s gotten into him, this is important for the upcoming deal, but he pays no mind to them.

He needs to talk to you.

“Yeah, I think I’ve got everything you need,” Maria facetimes you, showing around your closet via her camera. “I’m loading the suitcase to the car and I’m out of here.”

“Thank you Mar-”

“MARIA?” Joel’s voice travels through the space from the ground floor, up.

“Shit, shit, shit, what am I gonna do?” Maria whispers to you turning the call to voice only.

“Just take the suitcase and leave, it’s ok, I only got personal stuff if that’s what he’s worried about. Let him check if it comes to that.”, you try to calm her down.

“Ok, ok-” Maria grabs the handle of the suitcase and moves to leave the walk-in closet.

“Hey.” Joel comes through the door to the bedroom taking in the scene. He hasn’t set foot in this room for nearly a month now.

“Hey.” Maria sounds pissed on the line.

“What are you doing here? Where's Tommy?”, Joel’s face frowns in question. “Tommy's not my keeper, his my partner. My husband, not that you would know what that means, apparently.” Maria just shrugs and moves to pass him by.

“What are you doing, what’s going on here?” he insists, blocking her way.

“I’m just collecting som-”

“How is she? Is she ok?” his voice softening when he asks about you.

“Oh, please, Joel, how is she? Really?” Maria scoffs at him. “She doesn’t want to see you, Joel or hear from you, that’s how she is.”

“Yeah, I gathered that much, thank you.” he mocks back. “Is she on the phone, can I just talk to her?” he extends his arm to reach for the phone. “Over my dead and cold body.” Maria says, pressing the phone on her chest.

His eyes are raging storms, his nostrils flaring with quiet rage. He takes a deep breath “Can you please ask her if I can talk to her, just for five minutes?”

“Why don’t you call her, Joel?” Maria taunts him, emphasizing the pronunciation of his name.

Joel just stares back at her, unfazed. Maria doesn’t move a muscle, lifting an eyebrow quizzically. Well, she did move one muscle.

Joel sighs exasperatedly “She blocked my number.”

“I wonder why that is.” Maria twists the knife, “I guess you have your answer, then.”

“Christ-” he pinches the bridge of his nose, “just- just ask her, please.”

Maria lifts the phone to her ear, rolling her eyes in frustration in the process. “Hey, Joel’s here, he’s ask-”

“Yeah, I heard everything.” you interrupt her, “No, I don’t want to talk to him.” Maria is shaking her head negatively at him as you talk, to pass the message.

Joel’s face goes cold and emotionless. “Well, tell her if she wants her belongings, she needs to come and get them herself.”

It’s been five weeks now and you can’t keep living in your best friend’s and sister in law's clothes. You’re gonna have to go and grab your stuff yourself.

Because it wasn’t enough what you’ve been through, what you’ve heard until you reached that goddamned bedroom door, what you’ve witnessed when you’ve entered, now he’s making you go back there to humiliate you. As you’re checking your calendar for your work schedule to decide on a suitable day, it hits you. You have Joel’s calendar on your phone, too. You always do, it was the only way to have some time together between his visits to work sites and board meetings and bussiness trips and fucking-behind-your-back, apparently.

And then you remember that day where you both stole some time off and decided to spend it cuddling with each other on the couch, talking nonsense and laughing at silly things and hugging and kissing and fucking all night long.

A brainstorm of thoughts run through your head instantly. How could he do that to you? He looked so happy in your arms. Maybe he was right, maybe it was nothing, maybe you should understand, you of all people, you should know. Do you need to do an STD test? How careless could he be? Where there others? Did he ever love you? Do you want to know?

Does it really matter?

You focus again on that day. He’d told you about a big deal coming up, one of the biggest in his career, if not the biggest so far and how important it was to the future of the company.

You searched frantically through his calendar until you found the date of the final meeting, the date where they’d seal the deal. Because there is no way they weren’t. If Joel wanted it so badly, he’d find a way to make it happen.

And you knew your husband, ironic as is sounds now. He was focused to a fault. He wouldn’t even check his phone that day. He’d done it every time since you were together. History indicated that he probably had other reasons, too, for not checking his phone in a timely manner, but you wouldn’t dwell on that. Not right now. Because now you had your chance.

That date was your chance.

Alarm disabled.

Joel’s phone is vibrating momentarily, not that he noticed, it was silent and tacked away in his jacket pocket, the jacket itself hanging on the back of his chair.

Don’t fuck it up, don’t fuck it up, don’t fuck it up, he’s chanting in his mind, under all this calm and confident demeanor, he’s sweating inside.

This is it, this is it, this is it, he repeats like a mantra, watching his opposite CEO, Leo Marks, playing with the pen between his fingers. He’s inspecting the contract again and he’s so close, so close to what he wanted. The room is silent, the long table full of seated lawyers and consultants from both sides, holding their breaths in charged expectation.

Joel knows that Marks is going to sign. He knows it. He worked for it. He convinced him, he made his vision clear as day and he lured him in. This is it. He got this.

Then your face appears in his mind. No, not today, he can’t do this today. You will have to wait. Like you always have. Joel shakes his head slightly, as if to remove you from his thoughts. His fingers get itchy, he wishes he could just check on you. Yes, he just want to check on you.

Are you alright? Are you thinking about him? Do you miss him like he does? Do you stay wide awake at night replaying the same scene over and over until you feel physically ill? Do you know that he thinks about you? Did he show you at all that night? Maybe he should have appeared at your friend’s door out of the blue. Maybe you think he doesn’t care. All he was trying to do was give you space. Respect your boundaries. Let you work everything out.

Fuck.

He reaches for his phone. He doesn’t know why. He knows his number is still blocked. He checks every night, when he's too exhausted from the lack of sleep and prays he could listen to your voice, or the soft sound of your breath when you slept next to him. But he fishes it out of his jacket pocket, anyway and then he sees it.

38 minutes ago.

Alarm disabled.

Alarm disabled. Alarm disabled. Alarm disabled, the only thought repeated in his head. He immediately searches the cameras for you but no movement is recorded right now. Maybe you already left. His heart rate spikes, his temples feel the pressure of his blood pumping violently in his veins. Cold sweat pours out of his body.

He’s squeezing his eyes shut, mentally counting all the places without cameras inside the house. What if you are still in there and he just can’t see you?

Fuck.

Mark’s voice extract him from his thoughts, “Mr. Miller, everything looks in order as we agreed.”

Joel snaps his eyes back to him, slightly irritated, “Of course it does, your legal team already did a thorough check all these months to get us here today.”

“Yes, yes,” Marks laughs entertained, “I just wanted to look it over one more time, I mean, we really are going to…”

What if you’re still there? What if this is his chance? He could always try to reach you after the deal, convince you to hear him out. Yeah, he can do that. He doesn’t need to chase you down. He can wait a little bit longer, can’t he? He can have it all, right? He was the man that had it all.

A mail pops up on his phone, a compliment note from the management of one of both your favorite hotels in Europe, thanking you for choosing their establishments for your stay, once again. Shit. You’re fleeing the fucking country? Are you fucking serious?

“..Mr. Miller?” Marks insists.

“Hm?” his eyes are glued to the screen of his phone.

“I said, before we sign, I need you to walk me through it one more time.” he demands like a little child asking for its favorite bedtime story. “I mean, this is the project of my dreams. I need your reassurance that this is as important for you as it is for us, that it’ll be your only focus for the foreseeable future.” he looks at Joel expectantly.

His only focus.

For the foreseeable future.

Fuck.

“HONEY!”. Your blood runs cold in your veins to the sound of his baritone voice. Your hand freezes over the shelf with the t-shirts, not making a sound. You didn’t take that long, why is he here? Why isn’t he in his meeting?

Joel enters the bedroom but you’re not there. Fuck, you hear the curse running softly from his lips. You don’t move, you don’t blink, you don’t breathe.

He moves to leave and check elsewhere but then he stops. You hear soft steps and you see the door of the walk-in closet opening. His wide form blocks the light from the outside, his broad shoulders almost taking up all the space of the frame.

He looks disheveled, his baby blue shirt wrinkled and unbuttoned at the top, his hair a mess, like he kept combing his fingers through them. You don’t dare meet his eyes though. You keep your gaze as far as his chin goes, concentrating on the bare patch there. His sole presence electrifies you like he’s already touched you. Your whole body feels on fire and frozen simultaneously. God, you missed him.

“I was calling for you.”, he breathes out and you can feel his fear pulsing through his body. He’s scared you’re gonna run. That’s why he doesn’t leave his spot, blocking the door.

“I know.”

“Were you hiding from me?” his brows are furrowed in a seemingly pained expression from what your peripheral vision could help you understand.

“No, I just chose not to answer you.”, you lower your head, looking at your feet.

“Why?”

“I don’t know.” you say hastily, but he’s waiting for a real answer. You breathe deeply, “It- it felt too domestic, you calling for me, me answering back, like how we were before.” He nods, biting his bottom lip. “What are you doing here, Joel?”

“In our house?” the edges of his lips are slightly turned up, his head tilting to one side.

“No, this is your house as you said yourself.”

“Darlin’, you know I didn’t mean it like that..” he sighs in regret, his head deepening in his shoulder blades in an effort to attract your gaze upwards.

“But you’re right.”

“I built it for you.” his voice soft, like it’s a secret mend to stay that way.

“Hm.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” his brows raise in genuine surprise.

“Nothing, forget it.”

“No, tell me.”

“You first.”

He looks perplexed, he forgot your question.

“What are you doing here, right now, Joel?”

“I got the alarm notification and.. it was the only way I could talk to you, honey..”

“But- your meeting-”

He searches your eyes, although you refuse to look at him, analysing your confused expression and it hits him. He smiles in understanding, nodding his head. “So, you chose today on purpose..”

You don’t respond, you keep looking everywhere but his eyes.

He laughs through his nose, rubbing a hand over his face. “Did you really think that I wouldn’t drop everything to come and see you?”

“I really did.”

He gasps in disbelief, almost offended.

“Baby, look at me, please; look at me..” he pleads with you softly. You close your eyes as if in fear you would obey, your chin trembling from the effort to remain calm.

“Baby, look at me. I want you to look at me, now.” he presses in a more authoritative way. He thought he could order you around? Break you?

“No.” you shake your head.

Joel calls you by your name but before he has a chance to spit another soft command-

“I SAID NO!” you open your eyes, targeting them to his chest, tears spilling uncontrollably now. You can see from your periphery the look of shock on his face, because you never yelled before. Ever.

“Why, sweetheart?”, he retreats back to his soft side.

“Because that’s exactly what you want. And you can’t always get what you want, Joel, not anymore.” You can’t hold back your tongue now.

“Jesus Christ,” you grit through your teeth, “what do you want from me, hm?” your eyes keep dancing around his face but never on his eyes. He looks dumbfounded, his lips part slightly but you don’t wait for an answer. “What else do you want? Is this some kind of ego thing? You expected me to shout and break things and hit you and tell you to leave her and come back to me? Because your ego is safe, Joel, if that’s what you worry about. I didn’t leave you, you did that first when you went behind my back. So, you walked out on me and not the other way around. Happy? Ready to go on with your life?” You’re grabbing the shelf where your hand previously rested so hard, trying to steady yourself.

For the first time Joel is speechless. He doesn’t know what to say. He can’t find the words to defend himself, to convince you about his feelings, to soothe you at the very least. He begins to have a glimpse of how he appears in your eyes right now. How much damage he’s done, even before that night. How much ground he lost over time.

“Darlin', I just wa-” he begins softly, almost like walking on eggshells, but your body visibly tenses, you jaw shuts tight, your eyes rolling back in your head.

“Stop, just stop! Stop saying what you want! Stop making this about you! Don’t you see? You keep asking me for what you want! Have you stopped for a second, just a second, to think what I want? What I need? I don’t- I don’t recognize you anymore.”

“I-” he closes his eyes in distress, “I love you.” His last retreat. He’s trying anything that could help him. He doesn’t get it. He can’t. He’s not capable. But he used to be. He was the most empathetic person you knew. What the fuck happened?

Your eyes snap though the open closet door at his admision and on to the perfectly made bed.

His gaze follows yours behind his back and shakes his head once more in regret.

“It really didn’t mean-”

“Joel-” you warn him, “have some self respect and don’t say what I think you’re about to say. At least have the guts to admit exactly what you did, I’d appreciate it more.”

He exhales heavily, you’re not giving him an opening to fix this. You’re hanging onto every word he mutters. Not a single one of them is left unparsed and he's not used to that. He knows that if he does not control his anger right now, it's game over.

Heavy silence is hanging between you, each one lost on their thoughts.

“Do you know when you really lost me, Joel?”, you ask him eventually.

Half an hour ago he would swear he had all the answers, but now? Now he sees he’s in the deep, so he stays quiet, searching your eyes that still won't reach his, for answers.

“You lost me when you humiliated her in front of me.”

His face goes white, shocked, he can’t believe his ears. His mouth opens and closes but he makes no sound, how on earth does he respond to that?

“You still don’t get it, do you?”, you pinch the bridge of your nose exasperatedly. “You valued her enough to endanger our wedding, you valued her enough to bring her to our own house, to our bed, Joel; you valued her enough to fuck her raw, to let her know that you were unhappy with me, before I had a chance to realize it myself-”, Joel interrupts you almost panicked “I’m not un-” and for the first time your eyes pierce his in such an anguish that the words die in his throat. “-and then you just diminished her like she was nothing, just to prove a point to me. While she was naked, vulnerable on our bed. And trust me, this is not me defending her, she is as responsible for this as you, but you’re the one I married, not her. I expected better from you, Joel, not her.”

Now he’s the one averting his eyes from you, looking down on his overpriced shoes, his demeanor defeated, this is not the Joel you know anymore.

“And what was the point, Joel? Hm? What? That she means nothing? Then why were you with her? Why did you choose her? Why did you spend your precious time on nothing, while I had to make an appointment to see you? That’s what you did with me, too? I mean nothing, too? Just a warm hole to fuck when convenient?” he snaps his head back to you, shaking it in denial frantically, his eyes blown wide and red from all the emotional stress you push onto him.

“But I guess I got my answer about a month ago, hm?” It’s one of those moments that epiphanies hit you as you speak uncontrollably, you just can’t stop your mind from running wild, your mouth from spilling bile, your heart from pounding so hard in your chest, your ears start to ring, your grasp on the shelf tightening even more for balance.

“And that tells me a lot about who you really are. It’s not just about the fucking, Joel, Jesus-, -for the brilliant man I know you to be, you’re stumbling through your blindest moment.”, you shake your head in disappointment, tears still running freely down your face, licking your jawline and falling like a waterfall to the carpeted floor. You feel so done, you find it pointless to explain any further.

“I- I don’t know you, Joel, I don’t know who you are anymore. Maybe I never did,” you conclude, “maybe you’re right,” you slowly nod to yourself, “and everything is my fault after all.” you whisper, not sure if you want him to hear that part.

He did. “I never said that it was your fault, baby. When did I ever say that?” his face is contorted in pain, “None of this is your fault, none of it, you hear me?” he wants so desperately to cross the fucking room and hold you tight, crush all your pain and insecurities and self hatred under an asphyxiating hug. He also knows that he won't make even two steps before you flee, or step back from him and he can’t for the life of him witness that. Because that’s how much he needs you. He prefers you standing there, where he can see you, where he can have you, even if you wither and die under the enormous trauma he’s putting you through.

“So stupid.. I was- I am so stupid..” you’re repeating to yourself almost deliriously, rubbing your fingers on your forehead.

“This isn’t you, sweetheart, you don’t talk like that, don’t- don’t do that to yourself.” Joel tries to bring you back.

“But this is you, isn’t it, Joel? The real you?” you bite back. “This isn’t me, really? How do you like the new me, Joel? Do you take pride on your creation?” you laugh bitterly at him. “Yeah, how you’d always call me? Polite little thing? Sweetheart?” you’re infuriated now, a rise fighting to explode through you. “How does it feel, Joel? To know you’re responsible for changing someone to their core? To know you had that much power over them?”

Joel’s shaking his head once again in desperation, hot tears spilling from his eyes, god, had he ever cried before? this is not a battle he can win, he sees that now. The damage is too great. What on earth was he thinking?

“Please, please honey, can we just take a breather, sit down and talk about everything?” he pleads with you, a last thread of hope shinning in his red rimmed eyes.

“Take a breather..” you mutter through your teeth, “you mean the breather you took while you were fucking someone else instead of talking to me?”, Joel shuts his eyes in defeat, there’s nothing he can say anymore. “I think you got it backwards, Joel.”

You take a steadying breath and command your legs internally to hold on a little while longer and move forward; clothes, suitcase, life left behind.

“Don’t contact me again, unless is via your legal team.” is the last bullet that hits Joel’s chest, right through his broken heart.

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meshlasolus · 17 days

Text

Too Sweet

Dbf!Joel Miller x College!Reader

A/n: hey guys so i may or may not take a writing break (i know i said i was gonna write more but like) the stress of all the nazi shits that keep plaguing my comment sections on every post i make, regardless if it’s political or not is making me wanna tear my head off… so I might just go away a while.

Warnings: fluff, awkward mentions of past relationships, dbf!joel, smut, piv (unprotected), so much teasing. It’s actually pretty cute guys.

Is anyone at all surprised by the song choice? Hozier has us all in a headlock rn… also this is dedicated to my favorite joel writer @macfrog bc she’s just amazing and you should read her work.

MASTERLIST

“Babygirl,” he breathed, pulling back but not away, his face still inches from your own. You could clearly see his blown pupils and focused expression. “Get upstairs.” Though you wanted to tease him, wanted to quip back a quiet ‘or what?’, you needed him just as much, and you weren’t going to be told twice.

“Dates are a bad idea,” you reminded him, handing over another nail from the box in your hands.

A last minute kitchen Island was added to the kitchen’s floor plan on the current house the team had been working on, so now it was up to yourself and Joel to make that happen. Well, it was up to Joel to make that happen, and it was up to you to stand by and watch him.

“I know, s’just,” he shook his head, hammering the nail down and holding his hand up for another. “I don’t get the whole thing these days where relationships are built on hookups.”

Your lips turned up in a smile. He was an old fashioned guy, with old fashioned ideals about love and dating and relationships. It was sweet, albeit a little obnoxious. You rather liked hooking up with him, however little it may be.

“Where would we even go?” you saw how on the first hit, the nail went crooked, so you handed him another before he even reached.

“I don’t know, hadn’t thought that far.”

You had to laugh at that.

“You wanna take me on a date but you don’t know where we would go?”

“Well,” he finished the last nail then stood up next to you, scratching the back of his neck. “This ain’t exactly an easy situation, we got your old man to avoid.”

Very reasonable, but sort of an obvious point by now. This entire thing started based on the fact that: you know each other because of your father, as in, they are each other’s closest friend. Pair that with one man hooking up with the other’s daughter, it becomes a disaster waiting to happen… except for he doesn’t see it that way, and neither do you.

You sighed, looking around to make sure everyone was still outside with the boss. Joel had just wiped his forehead on his arm to rid himself of the sweat, and you could see the tension in his muscles from the work he just finished. You stepped up to him and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him close enough to peck his lips once.

“If you can find a place where we won't get caught, then I’d love to go on a date with you.”

He smiled, kissing you again. He had wanted to tell you he was too sweaty for hugs right now, but as soon as you wrapped yourself around him, those thoughts suddenly left his mind. You just fit so well against him, he wonders how he never realized.

He was even older than you thought. Not actually, but this man had decided on a date location, and as you were pulling in, the things packed into the backseat started to make sense.

“Drive In movies?” You shouldn’t be surprised, the guy is practically a fossil, he even texts like he's still got a flip phone.

“Your dad’s never taken you here?” He chuckled, pulling into the line at the front.

“No,” you laughed, leaning back in your seat as the cars ahead moved up.

“Good, then we won’t run into him.”

You reached and grabbed his hand over the center console. He always gave two little squeezes before readjusting his grip, rubbing his thumb on the center of your palm. It was sweet, comforting.

He rolled down his window and paid the attendant in the booth, just a kid, probably still in high-school… but he certainly had an attitude on him, given the nasty glare he served Joel after making eye-contact with you. Joel had never let go of your hand, the kid knew he wasn’t your dad.

“What’d you tell him, anyway?” He asked, driving off towards the lot on the opposite side of the land. The big screen was not even rolling the trailers yet.

“Hm?”

“Your dad,” he seemed almost shy about mentioning your dad in front of you, in this context. How did you lie to him this time? But he knew what he was doing, what he’d been doing and still plans on doing.

“Told ‘im I was gonna go shopping with a friend, that I may or may not sleep over.”

He raised an eyebrow and smirked, never taking his eyes off the road. He pulled into a spot in the very back corner, where it was likely to remain empty the entire duration of the movie.

“Oh did you, now?”

You turned a light shade of pink at admitting to him you wanted to sleep over… not like it was a new occurrence, but you hadn’t really asked him yet.

“I didn’t tell him for sure, I know Sarah-”

“Sarah’s with Tommy at a concert in Dallas,” he said, unbuckling his seat belt and turning off the engine. “Text your dad, let him know that friend of yours is keepin’ you till tomorrow.”

He got out of the truck, walking around the front to open your door, holding his hand out to help you down. Ever the gentleman.

“Thank you, kind sir,” you teased, walking around the backseat door and helping him unload the piles of blankets he’d managed to stuff in. The man practically emptied the top shelf of his linen closet for this.

“Anything for you, M’lady.”

He ended up taking almost everything into his arms, letting you carry one pillow and a single blanket towards the back of the truck. Normally it was all dusty and gross, proof of the work it helped him do. You wouldn’t even have noticed, because you don’t often pay attention to the state of other people’s truck beds, but he had cleaned the whole thing out, making it look as if he’d just brought it home from the dealership… minus the odds and ends of dents from his toolbox and timber.

“What’s playin’?” You nodded up to the screen as he took the pillows and blankets, tossing them across the truck bed to make a cozy little area for the two of you.

“It’s uh…” he reached into his pocket, checking the nightly double stubs. “Jaws and E.T., it’s a Spielberg double feature.”

You don’t remember telling him that Spielberg was your favorite director, but maybe he was just already at that place where he could read your mind… or maybe it was just a coincidence and he thought that the throwback double feature at the drive in would be fun. Either way, he hit the nail right on the head.

“Sounds good to me.”

When everything was settled just the way he wanted, he turned to you, his hand out towards the blankets. “After you, darlin.”

You tried to step up on the tailgate, but your foot slipped for how high it was.

“Want me to give you a toss?” He joked, but you rolled your eyes at him. You would not be acquiring his help after that joke.

“I’ll be just fine, thank you.”

It may have been embarrassing, but like hell you were gonna give into him, his chuckles of amusement under his breath as you slowly and steadily climbed up by yourself. It was much harder to grab onto the dip in the bed when there were so many blankets spread out. Eventually you made it up, collapsing onto your back into the mound of bedding.

“First try,” you raised a fist in the air, looking back to him to see his amusement had not ended and he was smiling wide where he stood, arms crossed and brows raised when your eyes met. “You comin’?”

And as easily as he could walk, he used the ridge along the underside of the tailgate to climb up over on the side, sitting down next to you and giving you a light hearted side eye. “See how easy that was?”

“Oh yeah, sure. You must be so proud, you’re a pro at climbing into your own truck.”

He laughed, laying back beside you. “Baby, I think anyone looks like a pro compared to you.”

“Maybe I’m just more athletically inclined, wanted to take the long way,” you chided, sitting up onto your elbows and looking over at him. The trailers had started running, and the light was hitting his features so nicely. He looked so nice. You could argue that he always did. At work when he was a sweaty mess, he looked real good then, too.

“I’m sure that’s it.”

He settled against the pillows, nodding his head upwards for you to join him. He brought you near with open arms, one that settled under your shoulder and the other that settled on your waist. You’d tucked your head under his chin, feeling him rest his head on top of yours.

You both had fucked around, sure… but this was a little slice of heaven right here. No amount of sneaking around or giving each other temporary pleasure beat the simplicity of laying next to one another, breathing in each other’s air, and being on a date. A real one. It wasn't a hasty exchange built upon needing to get off, but a choice to spend genuine time together, in which you receive nothing but the pleasure of one's company.

You couldn’t remember the last time you went on a date. Joel was right, hookup culture had become too strong in this day and age. It stands to reason that you haven’t actually slept with anyone in a while. You like being asked out, but guys your age don’t exactly want to give you that satisfaction. Joel asked you out. Sure, he fucked you silly on the stretch of his fingers only a week ago… but he still asked you out.

Jaws ended sooner than you thought it would. Back when you were a kid, and afraid of sharks, it seemed much longer of a movie. There was a lull between it and E.T., assuming the kid working in the projection tower had to change out the film roll himself. It made for a sweet and quiet conversation that sparked up as soon as the credits rolled.

“You bring a lot of girls here?”

He rolled his eyes and shook his head, even though it was meant as a teasing question.

“Nah,” he said anyway, turning a bit more to face you. “Usually, I don’t have to hide from my girlfriend’s dads. Not since highschool, anyway.”

You almost didn’t catch it. His use of the word girlfriend, which subtly implied that’s what you were… but you weren’t one to assume, or at least, not with Joel and the risky business of your relationship. You laced your hand with his between your bodies, looking down at his fingers while you did your best to recover the conversation without acting awkward.

“The more I think about it, I’m not so sure my dad would be angry.”

Joel wished he had the mindset to think that way.

“You kiddin’ me? If your dad found out I’d been messin with his only daughter, I’d get his shotgun to my head.”

A laugh escaped your lips, but you shook your head.

“You’re not just messin with me, though…”

At least, you hoped he wasn’t. Of all things that could be said about you and Joel, it was that you had already gotten attached. Already been to a place where you miss seeing him at work every day when you go home. Miss talking to him and learning more about his life, and having him listen about yours. There have been so many people in your life who told you that you talk too much, or that you never shut up. But Joel never has. He listens, and he’s happy to. You’d hate to lose that one day and never get it back.

“No,” he lifted your chin so you’d meet his eyes again. “I’m not just messin with ya.”

You held his stare for a moment, neither of you leaned in. It was just a nice moment, to look at one another, and to appreciate what you saw. A moment to see that hey, Joel has little flecks of gold in the brown of his eyes. A little moment for when you get sad that he isn’t around, that way you can remember how he looks at you when he is around. It’s something mixed with longing and contentment. Two opposites that somehow come together on his features and tell you more than his words could ever say.

“Good,” you finally replied. “In any case, my dad won’t shoot ya. I think he loves you too much.”

He laughed, the low rumble vibrated through his chest, and you felt it against your joined hands.

“You don’t suppose I could woo him over too, huh?”

“I don’t think your charm would sway him as easily.”

“Oh I got charm, now?”

“No, not really… nice ass, though,” you giggled, and he playfully shoved your arm back, causing you to fall into a fit of laughter on your back. “Just bein’ honest, mister.”

“I see how it is,” he pulled you back in with a swift move of his arm. “Only want me for my body.”

“What can I say? I’m a modern woman in a modern world.”

“S’all the same to me, whatever gets you to agree to a date with me. Still can’t believe you did…”

He says it half jokingly. You know he doesn’t see himself as desirable. Even though he’s in the prime of his life and is quite literally one of the finest men this town has to offer, he looks at the obstacles. He works too often, has a teenage daughter, he doesn’t look the way he used to, some people find him incredibly boring… but only the worst people.

“Joel, I'm lucky to be on a date with you.”

“Yeah, sure… s’not like you ain’t got a hundred guys your age lining up behind me to-”

You kissed him. He was not going to be permitted to speak if he was not going to say nice things about himself, a new rule you were establishing. He didn’t seem to care much for the rest of his sentence after you pulled away, the words slipping from his mind the second your lips touched his.

“I like you,” you told him, making your intentions very clear to him. You weren’t just messing around, either. “You treat me better than all those shitheads, anyway.”

You’d been passing in and out of consciousness on the drive home. You’d been up since the crack of dawn this morning, the neighbor’s dog barking incessantly. You’re sure Joel heard it too, unless of course he’d been laying on his good ear, the bad one would have canceled out all the noise.

The streetlights go by in waves over your eyes, lids closed lightly after each time they flutter. You were curled so sweetly into the passenger seat of Joel’s truck, finding such comfort in the place. You’d have thought it was where you spent most of your time. His hand was on the edge of your knee the whole drive, rubbing small circles over the area.

By the time you both had gotten home, you had to scan the yard for signs that your dad may be in the near vicinity. He was usually never home on a Friday night, unless there was a Rangers game or if he had company. It made sense that his car was gone when you both pulled up.

“You text him, yet?”

You shook your head, pulling your phone out of your back pocket and completing the task meant for three hours ago.

“It’s only ten, he might be at the bar, still.”

You didn’t over explain anything in your message, no need to make him question your thoroughness. Just something simple and quick.

Staying over at Amy’s, I’ll be back before lunch. Drive safe.

But then you immediately deleted the last part. Because how would you know he’s still out?

Joel had cut the engine, getting out and walking around to meet you at your door, except you’d already opened it and stepped out yourself.

He gave you an unserious look that feigned offense.

“Hey now,” he settled his hands on his hips, the sass evident in his voice. “We’re still on a date, miss. I’m supposed to get the door.”

You knew he wasn’t really upset, but you found it funny pretending as if he was.

“Modern woman in a modern world, remember?”

“Yeah,” he waved you off, shutting your door and taking your hand as you both walked up to the front door. “What all does that entail, anyhow? Bein’ a modern woman?”

You smiled, watching him take his damn time with the keys. He knew exactly what he was doing.

“Well, since achieving the vote, we’ve made quite a bit of ground. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we’re allowed to work with you guys, now.”

“Ah… how did I miss that?”

“Weren’t looking hard enough. We also get to wear pants now, so I can see why you’re confused.”

And once the door was open, he lazily slung an arm around you to let you inside. Ladies first and all that. He didn’t actually respond to your last comment until you were both in the entry hall, door closed.

“Shame, I kinda like you without pants,” he hovered in close, partially teasing but otherwise just to get his body nearer to yours. The heat between you blossomed, and it could easily be sensed on both sides since leaving the truck.

“Mister Joel Miller, don't you know the best part of a modern woman?”

He raised his eyebrows, his head shaking once and eyes rolling over. Just say it already.

“We can ask any man we want to take our pants off.”

There was barely a second between your words and the speed of his lips meeting yours. It was different from the kisses at the drive in, now it was harsh and hungry. A stark contrast to the softness and the serenity. This was clouded by lust, by the human need to devour.

Joel was not gentle by nature. He was often brutish in his work and day to day. There were few people who genuinely saw him gentle. Sarah, Tommy, your dad, and you, his other side neighbors, and Carol, the lady who takes Sarah to school when he can’t. Maybe not in that exact order, but that was the list nonetheless.

You’d always seen him gentle, so the moment he backs you into the door, your back slamming on the painted wood, something stirs. You liked Joel how you knew him… but maybe there was other unexplored territory to delve into.

“Joel,” you whined out on the end of a breath. His name falling from your mouth was always how he preferred to hear it, but under this context had to be his favorite.

“Baby,” he trailed his kisses to your cheek, then jaw, then neck, resting in the crook of your shoulder and seemingly finding a home there. Your hands dove through his hair, tugging ever so gently and feeling the vibrations on your skin as a repercussion. His hands never found a resting place, running up and down your sides, every few seconds reaching down for a feel of your ass. He seemed to like yours, too.

When the arousal became too much, you tried your luck at rolling against him. The sound he made alone would have been enough for you to know how badly he wanted you, but the feel of him through his jeans was a physical show of it. He gets hard so fast for you.

“Babygirl,” he breathed, pulling back but not away, his face still inches from your own. You could clearly see his blown pupils and focused expression. “Get upstairs.”

Though you wanted to tease him, wanted to quip back a quiet ‘or what?’, you needed him just as much, and you weren’t going to be told twice.

He watched you from behind, taking the stairs two at a time until you reached the top. You nearly tripped over the last stair, but before you could go toppling over, his arm around your waist stopped you dead in your place.

“So damn clumsy,” he shook his head, the edge of a smirk forming. He tapped your hip with his free hand, getting you to move forward again until you got to his door. “Can’t get in a truck, can’t climb stairs…”

Now that he’d teased you first, you felt you had a small bit of free reign to mess with him. He was still gonna have you, but why make things so boring? You stared at the handle, gripping it, but making no move to twist it and open the door.

“Doorknob too much for you, too?”

You narrowed your eyes over your shoulder, where he was lingering closely. You could feel him pressed against your backside, the arousal evident in every breath he took, but he was still having fun with his little pokes of annoyance at you.

“I think I remember a rule about your room being off limits…” You trailed, cheekily smiling at him before he reached around you and opened the door himself. He held out his hand with a cocky raised brow, and waited for you to step in.

“Ladies don’t always have to go first, y’know. S’all part of-”

“Bein’ a modern woman, I know.”

But still you went in first, taking a few steps backward until your knees hit the edge of the bed and caused you to sit. You tilted your head at him, still leaning in the doorway, his hand on the frame above his head and his other hand still steadily on his hip. What’s he waiting for?”

“I ain’t gonna wait all night, cowboy…”

He chuckled, shaking his head and slowly coming forward. For someone so eager, he was taking his sweet time.

“You’re cute,” he gently pushed you back into the mattress, crawling one arm at a time over your form. “But something tells me that you would wait all night.”

He leaned down and met your lips with his, feeling your hands climb from the bed, to his shoulders, then to the sides of his face. He loved the feeling of your hands on him. Loved the way that with each pass of your skin against his, you began to learn the feeling of him as well. With one hand still supporting himself, his other raked down your side, then up over your middle, hugging the curves of your stomach, the stretch of your ribcage, and the gentle peaks of your breasts. He stopped there, paying mindful attention according to every sound you made, every groan of approval, or whimper of satisfaction. It was all he could hear, and became his instruction on how to touch you.

You wrapped your legs around his hips, pulling him closer between them, trying to spur on the friction that would give you relief. Joel knew the signs of your arousal clearly by now, but there was still ground for him to cover.

“Gettin’ so needy already, baby.”

His murmur against your mouth was interrupted. You whined at the loss of his lips, but were quieted in a moment when his hands trails downwards. He knelt one knee between your legs, the other still on the ground. He lifted behind your knees and gave a quick shove to drive you further up his mattress. His next move was to go for your shorts, given the fact they’d been causing him to mentally strain himself all evening.

“Gotta get these damn things off,” he said.

They went flying to the floor, and then he had to stop a minute. With your knees raised, either side of his hips, he had the most ethereal view of your soaked underwear, a dark and increasingly wet stain against the soft blue cotton. When you noticed how long he’d stopped to enjoy the scenery, you grabbed his hand on your knee.

“Joel, please-”

“I know, babygirl.”

And he didn’t make you beg for it. Not like the silly college boys would, and have in the past. He sunk down on the ground by his bed, leaning over on his elbows, hooking them under your legs again before pulling himself inward. He kissed over the wet fabric, hooking his fingers underneath it at your sides and slowly sliding them off.

Your hands found his hair and your mouth parted in a shaking breath. The slow contact he made was like sweet torture. Your skin arose goosebumps under his touch, agonizingly slow and increasingly annoying, given your absolute need for him.

“Need you… Joel I can’t- fuck.”

He kept it slow, but he licked upward, meeting your clit in devastating motions. You needed more, and as if he read your mind, his first finger was brought down and inserted to your seeping entrance. Your cries of approval met her ears like a happy melody, pushing him to go faster.

You’d already been pushing the edge, just from him touching you… but now that the contact was area specific, you weren’t sure if you could take much more. The hard feeling of him pressed against your earlier had seeded a thought that you would not be satisfied until he was inside you, heavy and full.

“Want more,” you tried to tell him, but he would not allow his feasting to be cut short. He’d made up his mind about the first time he would actually have sex with you. It wasn’t going to be rushed.

He shook his head, the sensation from the motion even more impacting. You took one hand away from his hair, fisting his sheets as tightly as you could.

“Gotta work you a little,” he pulled back to say, adding another finger to the mix, feeling you tightly around him. He climbed back up your body, hand never leaving its place between your legs. “Relax for me, yeah?”

You did your best, taking a breath and keeping your eyes trained on his, but they soon fell to his mouth, lips licked clean and the very corners covered with you. It somehow flipped a switch in you that you weren’t sure was good or not. Joel was the first man to go down on you. Joel was the first man to kiss you without immediately putting his tongue in your mouth. Joel was the first man to be so invested in your relationship, that he asked you out on a date… after you messed around. It stands to reason that Joel may be the first man you genuinely fall in love with. Not puppy love like in high school. Not conditional love based on what he can get out of it. Actual love.

You dawn on this realization quickly, still in the moment and feeling his every move, every grip of his hand or every curl of his fingers. It’s all so instant, and in your present state of mind. Like, every time he moves an inch, it somehow contributes to your relative thought.

“Joel?” you look up at him with glassed over eyes.

He pauses his movements below on account of how sincere you sound.

“Yeah?”

It’s not I love you… not yet. It’s I know you, it’s going to be you.

You reach down between your bodies, his fingers still sheathed in yours, and palm him generously. Without losing eye contact, you undo his jeans, doing your best with one hand to maneuver the waistband of his boxers and pull him from his confinement. You aren’t looking yet… but you know from the feel of his sheer size alone, you’re in for the pain of your life. It bothered you last time, the thought that he may break you on his girth, that you may feel differently or resent him from how he feels… except you don’t feel that way anymore. Because of your aforementioned realization, you now feel that though this may hurt, it would not change your desire for him. He’s not a boy who’s hurting you to get off. He cares about you.

Not just messin’ around…

“You’ve made me wait long enough,” you told him, the awestruck glaze in your eyes slowly fading as your smirk crawled over your face. You grabbed the hem of his shirt, allowing him to help you get it off. Seeing more of his skin, and feeling it against you when he settled back down was elating. It felt like the doorway to something, the hallway leading to reward.

“Baby, you’re still tight, I don’t wan-”

“I’ll be okay, I promise.”

He sighed, trying to look anywhere but your eyes because dammit they were convincing.

“I hurt you, you tell me. Promise that,” he looked at you sternly, and you can’t say you’ve ever seen him so serious like this alone with you. He almost seemed, for lack of a better word, scared. Like you were a flower petal he was afraid to touch for the fear it would fall from the blossom.

“Promise.”

He nodded, smiling weakly, still unsure but willing to let you lead him blindly.

He picked you up and put you down on the proper region of the bed, your head meeting the pillows behind you. You giggled at his rapid motions to strip you of your shirt and bra next, his pent up anticipation now getting the better of him. He’d kicked off the last of his remaining clothing, looking back to you, sprawled out on his bed, waiting patiently for him.

“If we’re gonna do this, we’re doin’ it right,” he joked, crawling back over you.

He nuzzled his nose against yours, then leaned down to collect a kiss. The kiss met your lips but then parted and moved to your neck, then shoulders, licking the sweet spot in the crook between them. He traveled down your chest, his kisses never stopping, although his hands paid special attention to each peak of raised flesh.

Your noises fell on grateful ears, the appreciation for them showing in every eager kiss, every soft grope of your skin. When he reached your lower region, he kissed both thighs apart, lifting one at a time and making sure they were set aside his hips comfortably. Once done, he kissed his way back up. Tentative, and slow. Joel is often strong and silent, and in this instance, it showed immensely. The way he can easily move parts of you around without hassle, and do so without uttering a word. It was dangerously addicting, how he already knew your body so intimately after only a few experiences.

Once his lips again found yours it lasted, and lasted. The feeling of him right against you was breathtaking. No barriers, no clothing, no promises of ‘another time’ between you.

“You let me know, alright?”

You nodded, his voice had become gentler from his first worrisome words minutes ago.

He kept his eyes on you, trying to gauge your reaction moment by moment. You wrapped an arm over his shoulder, holding the hairs at the back of his neck to ground yourself. He lined himself up to you and ever so slowly began to push in, holding himself after the first sharp intake of breath through your nose.

“M’okay,” you said assuringly, the sensation dulling slightly when you focused solely on him and not his actions.

He went further, and deeper, slower than sludge but making sure you could feel every inch comfortably before moving again. You twirled his hair between your fingers, the other hand digging nails into his side. His face, eyes still focused on your expression, was becoming the product of bliss. This entire exchange, the build up, the stretching pain, and the way your lungs couldn’t seem to exhale, was all worth it… just to see this look on his face. The way he was having to fight himself to stay in the moment and not get lost in the euphoria, it was the most beautiful you’d ever seen him. When he was dazed and confused just by feeling you around him.

“You gotta breathe, baby,” he let out, trying to keep your comfort in the forefront of his mind. He took a deep inhale of his own, and when he felt you following his steady pattern he was able to relax a little more, just like you did. “Atta girl, just like that… keep doin’ that.”

He started to move, a single thrust once he could be sure that there wasn’t any stiff pain. The only sting left over was fading, the slow and measured pace he set was becoming like a lifeline. Comparable to a heartbeat. In and out, in and out, the feeling becomes more pleasurable and addictive. You need a heartbeat to live, and in this moment, you need Joel to live, his easy and gentle pace.

“S’good,” you murmured, your eyes fluttering closed and his head dropping to your neck again. “Feels so deep.”

Joel bit down on your skin, tethering himself. The praise was something he wasn’t quite used to. He’s self deprecating to a fault, but hearing the opposite from your lips, which he adores, makes him feel stronger somehow. Keeping a tether is all he can do to keep from rutting against you. He wants so badly for you to be different, to not end up just a one night stand or a friend with benefits. He wants you to feel how much he cares about you, wants to take care of you.

“Doin’ so good, baby,” he whispered, your neck absorbing most of the sound. “Taking me, so tight.”

Your muscles started contracting the moment he sped up his rhythm, only one thrust that was different from the rest. It hit you so fast, the coil in your stomach, building up and aching for relief.

“Joel… shit,” You could barely even get your words out, interrupted by a whimper of white hot euphoria. “I’m gonna…”

“I know,” he growled, his desire to rut into you slowly fading as he increased his pace to meet that carnal need. “I feel you, baby. Give it to me.”

It built only a little more, but then you couldn’t take it. It was too much, too full. The tightness in your stomach burst, letting go of every tense muscle in your body. It was so intense you practically screamed for him, his name a repetitive mantra on your tongue. Joel. Your hips jolted and writhed around, the feeling increasing with every hit against your cervix. Joel. Your walls tightened even more around him, the sting only slightly returning but in a way that made you crave it. Joel. He came right after you, unable to even try pulling out, just for how tightly you held him in. Joel…

He dropped half his weight, pulling away from your neck to kiss your lips. He needed to. It didn’t feel right to stay hidden in your neck when he had such gratification for you right now. The way you made him feel was no simple thing, and he felt you needed to be thanked for that. If a kiss was all he could give you in the moment, then so be it.

Joel…

“I’m sorry,” he let out, leaving his forehead against yours.

“For what?”

“I came in you… I didn’t ask,” he furrowed his brows, hoping you wouldn’t begrudge him too badly. He’d say he got lucky when you pulled him back down for another kiss.

“It’s okay… wanted you to,” you were still coming down from your high, possibly the most intense feeling you’ve ever experienced. He smiled and kissed you again, and again. He shifted the way you both laid, on his side, and brought you close to his chest.

When your breathing went back to normal, you spoke again.

“I was scared, y’know.”

He looked closely at you, unsure of what you meant and why.

“I thought you might hurt me. I didn’t care if you did, but I still thought you might,” you told him, running your fingers in circles over his skin. Though you seemed in bliss, perfectly happy, he couldn’t help but be frightened that maybe you weren’t telling him.

“Did I? Hurt you?”

“No.” you shook your head, holding a smile and making sure he saw it was genuine. “You didn’t hurt me, it was good. Really good. No other guy has ever…”

He again was confused by the trail of your voice… no guy has ever…? Oh, shit.

“No other guy’s made you come before?”

The embarrassed blush on your cheeks told him all he needed to know. You weren’t sure why it was so awkward to let him find that out, but you suddenly felt like you were more of a child, having not experienced things that he has for years before.

“No one before you… and you’ve already got four on the board,” you laughed, trying to make it feel like it wasn’t as big a deal. Like it was funny.

He narrowed his eyes, raising his head up to look at you closer.

“Ranger’s night, last week, tonight… that’s three,” he corrected, counting out on three fingers and holding them up.

“You technically weren’t there the other time,” you smirked, giggling once he looked at you with wide eyes and a dropped jaw.

“Should’ve called me,” he kissed the tip of your nose, your smile still prominent and growing. “I love hearing you.”

Over his shoulder you heard his phone buzzing, once, twice, then three times. He huffed, hoping it wasn’t from someone at the work site that wasn’t able to lock up the property after reviewing.

“Hold on,” he rolled his eyes, turning just far enough to reach his jeans on the ground, pulling his phone from the pocket. He squinted against the harsh light, swiping through the message notifications that appeared when he unlocked the screen. He laughed, turning to you. “S’ your dad.”

“It’s late, I would have thought he was either drunk or asleep by now.”

“Apparently neither,” he slid his phone back on the nightstand, regaining you in his arms. “Wants to know if I’m still awake for a drink.”

You laughed, “Oh, really?”

“Yeah. Not sure if you’ve heard but, you’re actually at a friend’s house till tomorrow.”

“How fun for me… so that means a guy’s night for you and my dad?” You played along with him, the sweet tone in your voice turning teasing.

“It would… too bad I’m already asleep.” He reasoned, which is probably what he would repeat to your dad tomorrow if asked.

“Damn, you old men go to bed early.”

“Hey now… let’s not go crazy.”

tags: @justanothersadperson93@moonchild-warrior@hopplessilse @brittmd115 @michilandcof@untamedheart81@just-someone-broken@joelalorian@xybil @yvonneeeee @anoverwhelmingdin@theatrelove3000

#joel the last of us #joel x reader #joel miller age gap #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #dbf! joel miller #dbf!joel miller x reader #dbf!joel miller #dbf!joel #pedro pascal joel miller #troy baker

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pedge-page · 10 days

Text

Candles

Part 5 to Best Man Series. follow Christmas Party.

Joel Miller x F!Reader, Tommy Miller x F!Reader

Summary: It's Tommy's birthday. So why are you still looking for Joel to celebrate it?

notes: Its been 4 months but here's the next part for those of you still waiting on since December! The next part will most likely be the finale.

Warnings: unprotected sex (with Tommy), infidelity / cheating, pregnant reader, toy usage, dildo riding, breeding kink, oral m!receiving (with Joel), m!masturbation, short voyeurism, vaginal fingering, cum eating, jealous!Joel, emotions are FLLYYINNGGG in this one

18+ ONLY

- - - -

Joel Miller doesn’t get jealous.

He’s at home, drifting off in thought as his hands do poor work on wrapping paper around the new pair of shoes and watch that he picked out. When Sarah, who’s focus is on brushing her doll’s hair and changing her bathing suit, starts yapping about how Uncle Tommy's kid is gonna be her best friend since she doesn't have any siblings to play with right now, all Joel can think about is you and Tommy together right now on his special day.

What would it be like, waking up to you in a shared bed every day? To be the first to kiss you, smell your morning breath and sift his fingers through your bed head? To see your eyes shine from the sun reflecting off of them, twinkling with the buildup of a tear after a yawn.

What would it be like, getting a birthday blow job from you first thing in the morning? Even if you aren’t his wife, he’s thought about getting to have you all the time, just for him. He doesn’t get jealous of Tommy very often, because Joel Miller doesn’t get jealous, but he tuts at the idea that your mouth wrapped around his cock is a sight he gets to behold more often than Joel ever will.

What would it be like, to not have to sneak around? To just have you loudly, unashamed, sloppily, proudly, the way you deserve, without constantly checking behind your back? To capture your lips in front of everyone like it were normal, to hold your pregnant belly like it was his, because damnit it might as well be.

It drives him insane he can’t mark you up the way Tommy can, less the two of you be caught in your affair. All he can do is pound you better, ruin you some more, and fill you with his seed.

As if the last one hadn’t already reared its consequences in your growing belly. You’re too beautiful, too full of something special to be kept to one guy.

Still. He’ll only ever be second to Tommy.

What would it be like … to call you his?

“Dad…Dad!”

“What!”

Joel looks down at Sarah who’s got her hands on her hips and a stern look about her face.

Jesus, she really does spend too much time with me.

“The door,” she repeats, pointing downstairs. On cue, the doorbell chimes again.

He grunts as he lifts himself to his feet, brushing her head messily with his big palm before hopping down to answer.

It’s his dad.

“How old ya gotta be to leave your old man standin’ outside in the cold?”

Joel rolls his eyes, shifting to allow his father through the front. “It’s 79 degrees out.”

“Cold for my old bones,” he groans, feinting a shiver. “Share-Bear!”

Sarah bulldozers straight to his abdomen and wraps her arms in a big hug.

Joel lightly tugs on one of her curly strands and she yelps “ow!”

“Go upstairs and get changed.”

She barrels upstairs to her room, leaving Joel and Miller senior.

Joel continues tossing a bunch of tape on to the sad excuse of a gift before crinkling all the paper up and tossing it. He moves to search for a gift bag in the closet instead.

His dad sighs loudly. “Tommy sure got a nice beat goin’ for ‘im.”

“Sure does,” Joel notes, his attention more on the shoving past the vacuum.

“Good house, good job, kid on the way. A pretty gal.”

Joel closes the closet and turns towards his dad. “What’s your point, pops?”

“You know my point. He’s got it all together. You...”

“Me what? You don’t think I ain’t doin good on my own?”

“You shouldn’t have to be on your own. Sarah’s mom wasn’t...we knew she wasn’t gonna stick around. Its tough havin’ a kid to raise by yourself—“

“I wouldn’t trade my babygirl in for anything else in the world,” Joel snaps quickly. His eyes dart upstairs briefly. Its a conversation he hates when his dad brings up, especially when Sarah could just be lurking around the corner.

“Im not sayin’ that but.” Grandpa Miller shakes his head and takes a seat at the island. “Kid needs a mom. You need a woman. Someone to hold and kiss and make promises to. Someone to love.”

Joel drops the now filled bag on the countertop. I have that already. It’s just—complicated. “There a reason you stopped by? Other than to lecture me?”

His father grunts apathetically. “Just came by for some wrapping paper, but by the looks of it—“ He glances at Joel’s empty tape roll and bunched up pile of ribboned paper—“Guess I’ll go down to the store to get some.”

“Well you know where the door is.”

His dad follows Joel to his open front door to show him out. One aging father and one rapidly aging eldest son look at each other with a sense of sadness.

“Joel—“

“I’ll see you at Tommy’s.”

If you weren’t so pregnant, waking up before Tommy would have been so much easier to give him a blow job.

Instead. It’s half past 9, and you’re just rousing to consciousness. Fully well knowing Tommy has probably been awake for at least an hour but faking it just so he can wake up with you.

“Good morning birthday boy,” you grumble groggily, a soft smile spreading across your cheeks as you pull him in for a peck.

He grins and wraps himself around you. “Mmm Good Morning, little Momma. Ya know what I want for my birthday?”

You did know. He dropped hints like crazy and you already had it ready to go by your nightstand.

The thing about Tommy is…Tommy likes watching. It’s something you figured out when you were already dating after a year. Something about watching you touch yourself, spreading your legs on the bed and fucking yourself with a dildo, or grinding on his pillow and moaning as he stroked his cock from across the room, has him leaking in his palm with dirty words of encouragement.

And even with a hefty baby in your belly, his view of you bouncing on top of the sizable dildo was no different.

“Fuck, fuck that’s it angel. Takin’ that dick so good. Bet it feels good, huh?” He grips his balls with his palm while the other fists over his dick. Sitting upright in your makeup chair, fully naked and facing the bed, he gets a view of everything. His hungry eyes never once leave your body.

You nod. Your knees hurt, but the sight of Tommy’’s heart shaped eyes watching your milky breasts bounce, your lips spread to accomodate the girth of the silicon cock has you smiling for your deserving husband.

“It’s—not as easy with the bump…” you say fretfully. You feel like shit, not being able to give him the show that he wanted on his birthday. It’s a lot more difficult to angel and thrust a stick into you when there’s a planet blocking your view.

Tommy hoists himself up quickly, jerking his cock as he approaches you. He tosses the dildo and crawls over you before veiny hands caress along your hips, over your belly and squeezing your tits. “S’okay, little Momma. ‘m’here now. Daddy’s gonna make it better.”

You grasp his face with both hands and grin, pulling his lips to yours. At the same time, he slides his leaking member into your folds, forcing a grunt in the back of both of your throats as he bottoms out.

“Happy fuckin’ birthday to me,” he growls, fucking you steadily with deep strokes. “I get my one birthday wish today. Thinking’ I’m gonna leave a little present in this pussy. Have ya walk around all day with a lil bit of me inside.”

You laugh and gently tap your belly. “There’s a bit more than a ‘little’ bit of you inside me already.”

His stomach rumbles with a a chuckle. “That’s for everyone else to know who ya belong to. Nah, I’m talkin something just between you n me.” His arm holds himself above you as he rocks his hips with shallow ruts. “Shit, shit, ya gonna take it f’me? Gonna take my present on my fuckin’ birthday?”

You let out a high pitched whine, neck convulsing backwards as your cunt starts tightening around his length.

Tommy locks your lips to his, tongue’s messily rolling into one another’s mouth. A string of saliva connect between the two of you when he pulls away, only for him to rub it against your breast.

“Tommy,” you moan desperately. You’re close, you’re about to tell him so: “I—“

“I love you,” he rasps. His eyes are shut tight as he finds that sweet spot inside, sending you over the edge before you can finish your thought.

He thrusts a few more times before stilling. His balls twitch with satisfaction, each grunt from his chest echoing the spurts of his seed inside you. He feels at peace when he can be this close to you, his hand warm against your tight tummy and his soon-to-be kids.

His soon to be complete family.

His words rattle in your ears. You feel the opposite of light and airy after an orgasm. No, everything is heavy. Your head feels like a boulder stuck to the pillow. Yet empty. Your body so full yet feeling incredibly hollow right now.

Tommy kisses your lips once more, not noticing the way you don't return the vervor. He sits up, wipes the sweat from his brows and slaps your thigh.

“You okay? Fucked ya a little too hard, baby momma?” He snickers.

You fake a laugh, hoping he’ll see you’re feeling exhausted rather than suspect anything is wrong.

Your husband kisses your forehead with a whisper “Stay in bed, you rest as long as ya need,” before walking towards the bathroom and closing the door behind him.

I love you. It should have made you feel surrounded by him. Comforted, secure, proud, inseparable, sound, cherished, warm, fuzzy, happy, truthful, light. Your husband confessing his love to you.

Instead, it only reminded you of the dream had about Joel again last night.

Joel in your house. Joel in your bed. Joel dropping Sarah off at school and feeding your newborn with her bottle. Joel cooking in your backyard, Joel’s hands entwined with yours on a walk. Joel rubbing your shoulders and whispering sweet nothings in your ear. Joel kissing your cheek and telling you he lo—

You cover your face with the back of your hands. Tommy’s the one in your bed. Tommy holds your hand and kisses your cheek, and will be feeding and burping your baby, will be there for you forever and always because that’s what you promised to each other.

You hold the ring on your finger up high in the air, its dazzling shimmer glints in your eyes. Your eternal promise, displayed on something so small yet so permanent, wrapped up in such a beautiful band.

The same ring that Best Man Joel carried in his pocket safely for months before you swore yourself to his brother.

You curse under your breath.

You’re still going to have to see him today.

He watches you crowd over Tommy seated at the head of the table, your hands lovingly on his shoulders. He thinks about his “one wish” for a while, but he only looks sideways towards you, holding your gaze for a moment before he confidently blows his candles. The room erupts in a rumble of cheers and clapping, but Tommy and you are only smiling at one another. He grabs your face and kisses you, smearing some icing on your nose. You laugh with him and rub it along his own, the two of you giddy and in your own world.

Joel Miller doesn’t get jealous.

And when you slice into the cake, nobody really understand why the cake is split between a blue and pink center. Everyones thinking the same thing--we already did the baby shower, it was going to be a girl!

“We might...have found out…there's gonna be another one,” you say sheepishly, your hands rollings over the heft of your larger than life belly that surprisingly has two little bubbas growing inside.

Twins. you're having fucking twins.

Tommy grasps your face and smears more icing on you, the two of you locking lips again and getting a little too pg-13 in a room full of raucous screeches that feel like nails on a chalkboard, shuffling chairs like a thunderous stampede. Everyone rushes to congratulate the two of you, how your lives are really starting, how exciting it must all be, what names you’ve been thinking of, its its everything you’d hoped it would be.

Joel Miller doesn’t get jealous.

Tommy knew, of course he did. Both of you planned it, to announce it like that. He’s got that smug look on his face, nothing of surprise. Just absolutely elated to share news that had been sitting on the two of you for who knows how long. Something Joel used to always get firsthand word from. You’re having twins. And he’s learning about it for the first time, same as everyone else. Tommy’s friends pat him on the back. Aunts kiss his cheek and even his dad smiles towards his youngest son’s success, all while the whole time, his ringed hand hasn’t left the curve of your swollen womb.

Joel Miller doesn’t get jealous.

He slips out the back of the room, everyone too engrossed in surrounding the happy couple. Nobody cared for Joel’s presence, not since the minute Tommy was born. Nobody would bat an eye for his absence today too.

…

You’re excited, you want to celebrate, and having everyone touching and surrounding you and asking questions wasn’t the way you wanted it. That’s why it was supposed to be during Tommy’s birthday, so there was something else to focus on.

But your body is on edge. It was attention from all that thrill. Jittery and warm under your palms.

Between your legs.

It’s hard to force Joel out of your mind whenever he’s in the same room. So when he dips out of the kitchen without making any gesture towards you, you didn’t hesitate to excuse yourself for a bathroom break. Nobody questions it, continuing their swarm around Tommy now who’s too eager for all the attention to really notice.

You don’t know what you expect from Joel. You don’t even know why you’re seeking him right now, and not standing by your husband’s side. You love Tommy. He’s everything to you.

So why is there still this half of you that feels… like you need more?

Maybe your body is thinking on her own accord now, and that’s been a problem that needs to end. No. No you just wanted to talk. That’s all. He's your brother-in-law, for fucks sake. it’s natural you want to hear his thoughts. He’s gonna be a double uncle! He deserves a congratulations! Hope he’ll tell you congratulations too. Acknowledge it in some way. That its happening. That you and Tommy—are just you and Tommy.

You wonder where the older Miller may have gone in such a small house. Sarah was still in the room, sneaking cake since nobody else seemed to care to slice it up, so where on earth—?

A callused palm wrap around your mouth and pulls you backwards into the dark bathroom, the door closing you inside with him warm and pressed tightly against your back.

“Shhhhhhhhh,” he whispers. The warmth of his breath makes you shiver, all the way down to the dampness spreading along your panties. Fuck. What was it about just ‘talking’ to him again?

“J-Joel,” your voice wavers cautiously. “I—“

“You still gonna keep pretending you don’t want me?”

You face him as he turns the lights on and the two of you are caught in one another’s grasps. There’s a moment where you size him up, and he wonders if you’ll bluff his pass.

Instead, Like magnets that can’t resist their attractions, your instincts overwhelm you. Your eager fingers dig into the back of his neck and smash his lips against yours. The traces of icing still linger on your lips and tongue, the two of you devouring one another, fighting to get the last lick before coming apart to breathe.

Joel just smirks, his tongue swiping over his puffy lower lip. “Sweet,” he hums. His thumb brushes the bit of icing you didn’t know was still on your nose and puts it in his mouth. “How somethin’ so sweet come from someone so naughty?”

You quickly drop to a squat and roughly shove his hips back against the sink. Nimble fingers working swiftly to unbuckle his jeans and shove them down to his thighs.

You’re both panting through swollen lips, heart rate moving a lot quicker than the activities you’ve so far done would permit. He’s gorgeous like this—illuminated by the harsh florescent light above, his sincere, albeit sinful, smile and rosy cheeks watching you kiss his hardened length.

He doesn’t force you. Doesn’t do anything to make you feel concerned. In fact, you’ve cornered him against the vanity, forcing yourself between his bent knees and inserting his tip to your wet mouth.

“Beautiful,” he whispers softly. His thumb strokes over your cheek as you guide more of his leaking cock into your mouth until it hits the back of your throat. He doesn’t take his eyes off of you, not even to blink.

Your head bobs eagerly, swallowing around him. There’s just something about that huge dick of his that has you going feral. An itch you can’t scratch until his cum is either nested safely in your stomach or your womb. Maybe it’s because you’ll never be able to get rid of him. He’ll be around forever, and that means you can keep seeing him and his beefy horse cock forever. Forbidden yet yours for the taking. Every day if you wanted.

The sounds of the party outside feel so remote compared to the events happening in such a little room right now. Just between you and Joel.

The babies ain’t quite here yet so just you and Joel.

“Pretty pretty angel, sucking’ Daddy’s cock like that. What would your husband think? Suckin’ his big brother off in your house? I’d tell ‘im you got to your knees all by yourself. Little slut couldn’t wait for it. Second she saw me, needed my fat cock stretchin’ her throat, ain’t that right? Needed me to give ya something today too? Just that selfish, aren’t ya?”

You pull off his cock with a big gasp, smiling lazily. He slaps his cock against your open tongue with thick and wet patpatpats.

He tsks you. “Pregnant gal, on her knees, takin’ cock like a slut. What a woman you are, little momma.”

You hum in approval, the drunken desire for Joel to fill your every senes clogging your brain.

Soft lips enclose around his tip again and he thrusts forward this time, holding his cock deep. You try to remember to breathe through your nose, even with his hairs tickling your lashes, but Joel pulls back enough to just his tip, and sets a gentle rhythm back and forth.

Joel’s head falls back against the mirror. His eyelids feel heavy each time he looks down to you. So full and rounded by a child—two children…if they're his, Joel’s having another daughter and his first son.

“Told ya you were made from breedin’. You’re gonna be like this the rest of ya life. Gonna put another baby in ya, then another—” he chuckles to himself, “N’another—havin’ ya suck cock not remember what number baby ya got growing’ in ya belly.”

He hisses through his teeth as you suck his member in and out, picking up pace. Your tongue works over his tip with each swipe, hand jerking off the base of his dick that you can’t fit. Any saliva and precum is immediately suckled and swallowed, leaving no evidence at the scene.

You’d gotten pretty good at that.

Joel’s beefy paw grasps the porcelain edge behind him as he hisses through his teeth. His stomach tenses, the veins in his v’line straining and you know he’s close.

You alternate between sucking his balls and jacking off his cock above you. “What if I busted all over that pretty face? Have ya walk around your house with my cum on those lashes as everyone told ya what a cock hungry whore you are.”

You moan around him, your pussy so slicked between your thighs that it’s dripping down your pants. Its wrong. Fuck, you’re so wrong to want it. Want Tommy to see who’s marking you up, see how much you’d spread your pussy for Miller cock no matter if its your husbands his brothers.

His cock finds its way to your mouth again, and he starts thrusting lightly.

“Swallow it, swallow it all. Want ya hesitatin’ to kiss Tommy after this. Knowin’ ya got my spunk in your mouth still. Fuck me babydoll, mouth’s a dream.”

His jaw drops low as he cums, and god what a sight. Your cunt throbs as he lets out pained breaths into the air, ready to cum if you were able to touch yourself right now.

You gulp down his salty load, lips suctioned to his tip and milking him clean to avoid any messes that might linger.

“That’s a good slutty wife,” he whispers down to you. Even on your knees, the heft of your pregnant belly is doing wonders to him.

You lazily grin up to his smug grin. He knows you like showing him just how good you are at swallowing loads, like a good wife always does.

He pulls his softened cock out of your mouth, and you gasp a big breath of air, your hands still clinging to his thighs.

You feel his protective hands hoist you up to your feet.

“Anything hurt?” He asks gently, holding your body flush against him as he rubs your tummy and hips. He feels much less tense than just moments ago when he pulled you in the bathroom with him.

You shake your head. It’s not the first time you’ve gone down on a man while 30 pounds heavier with a baby. Your knees are a bit sore, but it’s nothing compared to the ache you’ve been feeling in your back for months now.

You try to pull away from Joel, but his arm is wrapped tightly around you.

“Didn’t think you were pullin’ me in here just to suck me off. Why are you actin’ like this little snatch is happy from that?”

“I didn’t pull you—you pulled me,” you correct.

“You came lookin’ f’me. And you got on your knees all by yourself.”

His hands caress lower down your hip, gliding along your leggings towards your crotch. It should be wrong, the way your hand closes around his wrist to guide him closer, his digits dipping below the waistline and down your panties.

He feels it: the soft squelch of your slick in your ruined underwear, pulsing madly. He grins and lets out a satisfied yet devious ‘ooooh there we go’ against your cheek.

But there’s more. More dripping from here than he’s given you just from the thrill of sucking his cock.

He pushes his middle finger past your entrance and fingers out the glob of cum that had been deposited inside you earlier today.

“It’s —it’s Tommy’s birthday,” you moan, as if he needed an explanation as to why your husband’s seed is dripping out of your pussy. “Had—to give him—ooohhhhuugggg—his…gift—“

He continues to finger fuck you slowly, his younger brother’s cum practically pooling in your underwear. “Got one man’s cum in your mouth and a different one’s in ya pussy." He shakes his head. when he gets you like this, sometimes he would forget that you’re Tommy’s wife, after all. That Tommy gets you more than him. Gets to fill you whenever he pleases. Gets to hear your moans as loudly as he wants. That Tommy’s right to your pussy is his first and foremost, sacredly, forever and always.

That doesn’t stop Joel from seething at the thought of having to finger his brothers spent out of you.

"What, he didn’t make ya cum?” He taunts, picking up the pace. Even as you wreathe under his touch, your nails clench into his bicep, feeling the muscle work with each flick of his knuckle. “S’why you’re so desperate today? Wifey didn’t get her selfish little cunt pleased from your husband on his birthday?”

"I did come …” you protest weakly. You squeeze your eyes shut, head tilted down as he works you open. It’s sloppy and sticky in your leggings, soaking the underside with your slick and Tommy’s cum being forced out by Joel’s big fingers relentlessly hitting the gummy spot inside.

His other hand grips your chin and forces you to look at him:

“Then why you comin’ to me?”

There’s a prickle of a tear filling your eyes. You've been asking yourself the same thing for months. You don’t know from what; the brink of pleasure or guilt, but there’s a hefty stone that’s burrowed in your chest all day that you didn’t know needed to escape. The words are forced out of your chest with a pained gasp.

"... I just want... more.”

It should pain you to admit it, to be so selfish for these men, never feeling one is enough for you.

Normally He would kiss you right now, to hush your mind to reveal something so heavy, but instead, he holds your gaze, gritting his teeth with a snarl just barely poking along his lip. He wants to let your words sink into your bones, really grasp what you've been denying for too long. Suffer with it, even.

You hadn’t even realized he backed you up against the door, pressing his knee between your leg. You’ve become trapped and hadn’t even noticed. His fingers prod your entrance incessantly, reaching deep inside so there’s no way of you to wiggle out of his grasp. curling up and beating your g-spot better than Tommy can—at this point, its very possible you’ve had more sex with Joel than with your own husband.

And that makes the coil in your pussy snap.

Joel belittles you without any words while you fall apart against the wooden door holding you up. Working the heft of his palm against your clit until your brows are furrowing, mouth agape, walls clamping down tight around him as you cum. The door rattles with each little roll of your hips, and your moans aren’t hushed either.

He watches, the way your eyes are glued to him, blown wide in guilt and in pleasure while little whines escape your lips. Unrelenting and stoic as he works you through your orgasm, granting no mercy nor even trying to shush your little cries from over stimulation. You don’t hesitate when he brings his fingers to your lips, swallowing them whole and sucking Tommy and your slick off Joel’s fingers. He wipes the rest off on your shirt.

Every emotion you feel with Tommy, you feel with Joel in moments like these. He holds you close to him as you breathe in his musky, minty scent. His shirt smells a bit like flowered softener and a hint of early morning sweat. Fumigated with the thick aroma of sex.

You're looking at the ring on your knuckle.

“I helped pick it out. Carried it for months. ’S practically my ring to you too.” He’s babbling now, getting lost in that hazy after-orgasm glow between two people who are connected by a strong, strange bond. “Sometimes …sometimes I think about stealing you away all to myself.”

He makes you two look in the mirror together, with him cradling your belly as you hold your ring hand to your chest. “Look,” he commands softly against your ear. “Kinda looks like our own little family.”

You hate that you kind of liked that idea. But then Tommy is in your mind, the man that you actually love, who fought for you, who you tied your vows to, and as far as you’re concerned, the father of your children.

Angry, you try to break away and shove Joel, but he's used to it. Used to you closing him off right after these moments of pure insanity. He's not letting it happen today. This time he’s got a firm grip on you like a brick wall and steel wire melding you tight to him. He knows you don’t actually want to push him away.

"You said you wanted more.”

It’s not a question: it’s a statement. A fact.

The very real thought, the one you tried to push away every time this happens, dawns on you: Joel is tired of sneaking around. Wants to have you when he wants. When everyone is watching.

Not just sex. To be in your bed, making you dinner and watching movies, dropping Sarah off to school rubbing your back when you’re in pain, there for the babies when you deliver and every day after.

You manage to push him off of you and shake your head. The chatter outside grows louder than the beats of your heart. Hoisting your pants back up into place, you go to grab the bathroom door, but Joels strong grip lays over top your and forces the door shut.

There’s a deadly, threatening finality to his tone. “I’m telling him.”

You turn back with a shocked expression, partially expecting him to be joking about it. Not that it’s funny. It’s not funny at all.

But Joel hasn’t moved. Hasn’t cracked a smile. A man whose resolve has overcome his patience. His lips are tight, jaw tense as he watches you try to answer to that horrifying outcome.

“Joel. No. Are you insane?”

“If its my kids you’re having, I have every right to be there for you—“

“But it’s NOT!”

“You know that? Tell me right know, you know it for sure. Say it ain’t mine, and I’ll never bring it up again.”

You go quiet, looking down at the belly that’s carrying your babies. You want to shrink away from your fears, from the men who’ve caught you between them with their words and their love and their touch. You’re Tommy’s wife. Yet here you are with Joel. Again. In your and Tommy’s house. And Joel’s hand on you, and on your finger is Tommy’s ring—Joel’s ring--TOMMY—

It’s too much. Everything is closing around you, your lungs suffocating themselves under the pressure that you caused by seeking him out. Finding him and putting yourself in this exact situation ever. Single. Time.

You yank the door again, desperate to escape, but Joel doesn’t budge. He refuses to let you walk away from the conversation. From him.

“You didn’t deny it,” he reminds you. he pulls your reluctant focus to him again. “Just say it: Tell me you want me. Tell me you lo—”

“I don’t.” You declare rigidly. Its too far. No, no, no,nonoNO. You expel those thoughts, his words, quick to cast them out before letting them enter your system. The next words rush out of your mouth with a deep ache seized in the pit of your stomach: “You’re just a good fuck.”

The air is thin around you. Something has dropped, a pin, a dime, a fucking boulder, between the two of you. Joel grits his teeth and removes his hand from the door, backing away from you with a scowl. He pulls it the knob open harshly and brushes past you quickly, not even taking a moment to check if anyone was nearby to see you emerging from the bathroom too.

He grabs his jacket and strides towards the living room. You can make out the commotion behind the wall; Sarah is having her own philosophy course to her personal audience, asking, "Whats the point of having so many candles if you can only make one wish!?"

Joel grabs her hand and dismisses them quickly. Her sad cries echo into the hall: “But why! It’s too early!”

Joel’s stern voice echoes in the hall as they make their way across the entryway. “Because I said so. I’ve got work tomorrow. We’re leaving.”

She continues to complain, but Joel doesn’t have any heart to continue their conversation. Ushering her out of the house and slamming the front door behind them.

You stare at the door, having not moved from your place.

The carpet beneath your socked-feet feels too shaggy. I hated this carpet. Its too fucking much for fucking Texas and every god damn person who sees it here.

You flinch when Tommy’s hand creeps along your belly. Disgusting your sniffle as a cough and wiping your nose. You worry he noticed, but he doesn’t do anything to push the matter further. “What’s up with him?”

You huff an annoyed sigh. “I don’t fucking know. He’s your brother. Just Leave me the fuck alone.”

Tommy observes your face momentarily, the way you avoid his eyes. He pulls away. “I’m gonna let this one slide as a pregnancy hormonal thing,” he says lowly, a cold soberness to his tone. “Then you can tell me what’s botherin’ ya so much lately. Or not. I’ll let you decide.”

You cover your face with your hands, sinful hands that feel like dry leather and charred ashes. Hands that don’t feel like your own anymore.

It would be better if Tommy just walked away. So you can simmer in your guilt and pain, like any cheating wife would. Like a sensible man who doesn’t take that shit from his wife, no matter what her personal problems are. From a woman who’s secretly jeopardizing their marriage for… what exactly?

You wanted more…but…what did you want more of?

Instead, Tommy feels his lips quiver slightly. He brings your head to his chest, smothering you in his scent and his embrace, his love and comfort.

Your insides break down in a flood. Tears and hiccups suffocate you as you wrap your arms around your husband and sob into his denim jacket, the one you just gave him this morning as his first birthday gift from his new wife.

Tommy’s never pushed you for anything. Maybe to his own detriment.

Deep down, you suspect, he knows it too.

Instead, he just holds you, swaying back and forth with gentle ‘shhh’ into your forehead. Never once faltering on the stretch of his hug, his arms holding you up and against him like a seatbelt built for a lifetime.

You feel like you just drove the car off a cliff.

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lavendertales · 1 year

Note

hey!! this request is very angsty hehe but could i pls request a fic where the reader gets shot in the stomach, same as sarah, and joel has to try to save her and she survives and just protective as hell joel afterwards?? thank you sm 🫶

illusory light || Joel Miller x f!reader

summary: when you get hurt, it triggers an overly-protective side of Joel.

word count: 980

A/N: established relationship; talk of wounds & blood; angst mixed with some fluff too.

gif: @dilfgifs

It all happened too fast, much too fast for Joel to react properly.

His ears were ringing, his surroundings blurry as he fell to his knees and held your blood body in his arms. He held you tightly, manically inspecting you and applying pressure to your stomach while you groaned in pain.

“I know, I know,” he kept repeating, his own hands bloody and shaking by then.

“J-Joel—“

“I know, darlin’, I know, I got you—you’re gonna be fine. You’re gonna be just fine, I promise.”

You couldn’t get much words out; the pain was white hot in your body, weakening you with each passing moment. The way Joel was clinging onto you, so desperate and frantic, you couldn’t bear to think what this was doing to him.

You knew he went through something similar before.

You knew what he went through with his daughter Sarah, how devastated he still was from that alone. And to lose someone else now, the woman he was so helplessly in love with…

This would destroy him.

You fought tooth and nail to not succumb to the pain. You fought as hard as you could, struggling to remain conscious and alert, right there with Joel, in his arms. Though it was difficult to do so when you began to feel all warm and cozy, you did hear Joel begging you to stay with him as you dozed off.

Stay with me. Come on, baby, come on, please… please, c’mon, baby. You’re okay. You’re okay, I got you… I got you, I’ll—I’ll take care of you—

For weeks Joel nursed you to health. He wouldn’t let you carry any supplies or even walk up a flight of stairs. Weeks went by while he tried finding the person who shot you, to no avail. You insisted he stay with you, and as usual, he obliged. If you needed him, he’d be there for you.

Joel Miller was yours in every thinkable and unthinkable way.

Even after you recovered, Joel still made a fuss over you and made sure you were safe. His kindness didn’t run out, as he so often claimed. No; Joel still had love to give, and you could tell as much from every touch he carefully laid on your body, every peck pressed gently over your lips, and every gaze he threw at you, a mixture of admiration and melancholy.

“Joel?”

You called out to him, out of habit perhaps, but out of the sheer desire to simply see him, to be with him. Joel’s head popped from the other room, the dusty apartment you settled in over the past weeks providing refuge and comfort, but most importantly, privacy for what you intended to tell him.

“What do you need?” he asked.

“You. Sit down.”

You’ve been curled up underneath a blanket on the couch for a good three days and you’ve had just about enough of seeing Joel running around, exhausting himself whilst trying to do everything by himself.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, sitting on the other end of the couch.

You took in a deep breath and stared at him before cupping his cheeks and pulling him, saying “I want you to hear me very well right now. I’m okay.”

Joel blinked, replying with stone cold silence. His eyes roamed over your figure, as if not taking your word for it, but it was increasingly difficult when your hands felt so warm on his cheeks. Warm and alive.

“I’m okay,” you repeated, smiling at him. “My wound closed up, I regained my strength… you don’t have to do everything by yourself.”

“You were shot.”

“I’m aware of that. And now I’ve recovered. I’m alive, Joel.”

Something in that statement, so softly spoken, broke Joel. He hadn’t realized that his vision was blurred because of the tears, now stinging his eyes, and only when you pulled him in for a hug did he exhale. Like he had been holding that breath for the longest time, and he could finally feel relief.

You stroked his back and you could feel Joel tensing underneath your touch, then exhaling again and eventually relaxing.

“I thought… I thought you were gonna—“he tried to talk, but you shushed him sweetly.

“I know. I’m sorry I worried you.”

He looked up from your shoulder, eyes teary, so you stroked his cheek and smiled at him. It was unbelievable to him that you were so kind, so intoxicatingly sweet. Sometimes at night he woke up in a sweat, barely aware of the reality surrounding him after his nightmares, and patted your body to his side to make sure that you were there. Most importantly, to make sure that you were real.

Your curl your fingers in his hair, soft and fluffy after the shower he managed to take tonight, and Joel damn near crumbled under your featherlight touch.

“I don’t know what I’d do if you’d—when I thought you were gonna die, I—I couldn’t go through it again. I can’t, not with you.”

You stifled a chuckle, thinking it wouldn’t pan out well to showcase such a giggly attitude when Joel was opening up to you. Instead, you took his hands in yours and held them tightly. The gesture alone helped ground Joel; you knew that because of his panic attacks kicking in at random times, he needed something to hold onto.

You made a silent promise to be that something that was always there for him to rely on.

“I can’t promise that nothing will happen,” you told him. “But I can promise that I’ll be here with you for as long as I can. If you’ll have me.”

Joel finally looked up at you, his face seeming lighter and brighter than a few moments prior. He managed to crack a faint smile as he replied almost instantly, “I’ll always want you.”

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salemoleander · 11 months

Text

It goes like this:

Scar seeks Grian out as soon as they respawn on Hermitcraft. Congratulating, reminiscing. Holding him when he starts to shake. (He was already forgiven before Scar stopped breathing.)

Bigb reaches out quickly- to check in, to see if he's okay. Says he had fun, as hard as it was- says he'd come back. There's an anxious quality to his messages that Grian is pretty sure wasn't there before. It's hard to remember that people ever acted differently; hard to keep straight who they were and who they all became.

At a time too late for visitors to really be wanted, Cleo comes knocking. She's not done feeling the emotions of what happened, but there is an understanding between their and Grian's sharp, bitter edges. Survival and love, twined together. She thanks Grian for letting her experience that kind of loyalty. It's as close to forgiveness as he'll get; he accepts with gratitude.

Skizz and Impulse arrive together two days later to see him - the over-loyal martyr and the under-loyal spy, happy they could play together. Skizz is easy; he forgives outright and out loud, with a declaration that he knows Grian tried his best to make things fair and fun. Pulled aside while making tea, his apology to Impulse is more concrete: a promise of future loyalty.

He receives a short message from Joel, requesting that next time he have more chances and reason to kill. Next time.

The moon is rising, and Bdubs is online, which means something is terribly wrong. One flight and several hours of coaxing later, Bdubs is close to the edge of sleep. He tells Grian he loves him; loves Cleo, loves Tango, adores them all. Would have wasted so much time not knowing everyone, without this game. Forgiveness is beginning to feel like nausea.

Jimmy doesn't acknowledge there's anything to forgive; dead too soon to know how painful things became. Still, he says 'No hard feelings'; still, he hugs Grian so tight at the next MCC his ribs creak.

Etho doesn't say anything, but he sends over a book of suggestions and ideas for the next series. He nods at Grian once, sitting at a campfire with his focus rapt on Ren telling a story, and Grian knows what he means.

Outside his front door one day is a large floral arrangement from Scott, with a note that only says "Thanks for the game". It is filled with poppies. Grian stares at it for far too long. He does not bring it inside.

Tango insists they play minigames together, talk, tour bases. And finally, he says so very casually that he had fun, and would like to play again. Have the chance to win. Grian knows he will do it all again. (Grian suspects Tango will not win, and he knows winning isn't worth it; he keeps those pieces of information to himself.)

Martyn writes a week later. He is grateful for having met Ren; bitter grief still sits in the gaps between his words. He say it was all worth it. Grian is too relieved at the forgiveness to call him on the lie.

Ren takes the longest. Several weeks come and go before Grian happens to cross paths with him. At first every word sticks like ice in his throat, but gradually the tension cracks and jokes seep through. Grian takes the plunge and apologizes for killing him (Scar did it, but by then the division between their actions was a technicality.) Ren says that given how it ended, there is nothing to apologize for.

He asks if Grian has forgiven himself, yet, for the end. There is an answer, but not one Ren will want to hear, so he just shakes his head.

Grian wakes from a dull, dreamless sleep and begins jotting down ideas for another series the next day.

#this has been in drafts too long so now it goes here #life series #3lsmp #third life #grian #i think Scott's section is far and away my favorite. bdubs is also a fun one #fic #salem tag #salem fic

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s-4pphics · 6 months

Text

forever dying. (e.w.)

FEAR. noun. an unpleasant emotion or thought that you have when you are frightened or worried by something dangerous, painful, or bad that is happening or might happen.

emotions writing challenge :3

wc;cw: 7 hunnid, angst, ellie needs a hug :(, gore

Ellie’s boots bury deep into the snow with every weighted footstep, her pack and bow hitting her back as she walks. She wanted to run, but she didn’t want to cause a scene; Freaking out in public makes her freak out more.

She needs to get home. She misses you and she’s on the verge of panicking because you’re not next to her. She should’ve never volunteered to do patrol.

You’re tired, you’d whispered in the early morning as she dressed, just lay here with me?

He’s old, Ellie whispered back: about Joel. If she doesn’t go, then he’ll have to, and he’s old, although he denies it; He shouldn’t be working as hard anymore, at least, that’s what Ellie convinced herself when she saw him reorganizing the horse shed. Boxes were being stacked, but he was tired; It was evident in the tremor in his arms. Ellie’s exhaustion will never be able to match his, no matter what she does. Plus, I wanna go. It won’t be long, promise.

And just like that, she kissed your head, your nose, your lips, before snagging her coat and leaving.

She’s gotten used to killing clickers; There was a dark point — two years ago — where she actually enjoyed it: the grittiness, the power she had over the source that destroyed the world. But moments like today remind her how gruesome and horrific life is.

It was only mile three into patrol when she saw the scene from a distance: the outline of a boy, no older than ten, dead and bloody, being preyed on by at least five clickers. At least.

Millions of thoughts rushed through her mind: why was he alone? Why is he so small? Why didn’t she come sooner and save him?

Horror slammed into her and she froze, nausea overtaking her at the sight. Shimmer was already snorting and shifting, preparing to turn around, but Ellie couldn’t move. She only gripped the lasso tighter, her thick gloves pinching her skin.

Apparently, she breathed too loudly; All the clickers turned towards her direction in milliseconds. She wasn’t prepared for all of them to rush towards her and Shimmer. She wasn’t... fucking prepared.

Ellie’s still not sure how she made it out, but she did, and she needs you close. Vulnerability is extremely difficult for her, but she melts with you. She should’ve never left this morning.

“Ellie!” Jesse. “Wait up!”

She’s already shaking her head, moving quicker.

“I’m fine!” She’s not. She swiftly peers over her shoulder, dismissively waving her hand. “I just… I needa get home. We’ll talk later.” Has her safe haven always been this fucking far?

It seems like hours pass before her walk ends, and she’s on your shared porch; She shoves through the door and is hit with immediate warmth and the smell of cinnamon, and her heart calms. Only slightly.

She kicks her shoes off and tosses her supplies on the floor before padding down the hallway and into your shared bedroom.

You’re sitting on the floor, reorganizing the bookshelf, murmuring song lyrics to yourself. You meet her eyes in a mirror propped up against the wall and smile.

But it drops at the sound of her voice.

She only whispered hey, but her tone is enough to get you up and moving towards her, concern on your face. Her expression is telling: fear. Grief. No wonder she’s back so early.

Your hands are cautious as they hover over her shoulders, but she nods gently. It’s okay, she hopes her eyes read, please hold me.

She’s instantly pulled close, right up against you, and she falls apart. Ellie doesn’t feel any tears coming, just feels them seep into your sweater. You’re asking if she’s hurt, but she’s not sure how to answer, so she stays quiet.

Your touch is so soothing. But she’s scared… and heartbroken. And guilty: she, somehow, feels at fault. That poor kid. She's sobbing now, loud and painful.

Hope, in this time, is lethal. The graphic scene is proof enough that the world is forever dying.

#ellie williams #ellie williams angst #ellie the last of us #the last of us #tlou #post-pandemic prose #works 𖧧࣪

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joelswritingmistress · 4 months

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You Scare Me, Professor: Chapter 30

Summary: The reader is taking graduate classes at a local university in the wooded upstate New York. She is drawn to her professor, Dr. Joel Miller, though she is also inherently aware that he has something dark about him that she can't quite put her finger on. As the reader's attraction grows deeper, she has to decide whether to endure the danger or run away as fast as possible.

Pairing: Professor Joel Miller x f!reader

Dr. Miller sat beside me on an oversized rock by the lake. We laced up our skates and I glanced out at the frozen lake outstretched before us. Way out in the center I could see others moving about, though the daylight was rapidly fading.

I glanced over at him and a breath puffed into the air as I spoke. “You're sure we're okay?”

He nodded, motioning to other skaters and held out a gloved hand. I took it and let him take a one-step lead onto the ice. After a few seconds of getting my bearings, I began to glide more naturally.

Dr. Miller whipped ahead of me a few strides and then turned and began to skate backwards so we faced one another.

“And he can skate,” I gushed with a wide smile.

“I was a pond hockey hero as a teenager,” he joked, making me laugh.

“Let me guess, you're a Rangers fan.”

He shook his head. “Bruins, believe it or not. My father was from Boston.”

“Are you close with your dad?”

Dr. Miller slowed down a bit. “Yeah. He’s someone I’ve looked up to my whole life.”

I smiled and was about to say something but Dr. Miller twirled me in a circle and I was surprised how perfectly I spun around, only to come face to face with him again.

“Whoa.” I let out a laugh and he chuckled. “I don't know how I just did that.”

“Let the ice do the work.”

I stared out all around us for a moment. The giant frozen lake was surrounded on all sides by oversized pine trees still holding their green color, and just as many bare oak trees and maples and whatever else lingered in the thick forests. Houses were strategically plotted around the body of water, leaving plenty of room for privacy between each one.

Beyond the tops of the trees, the darker black and blue colors pushed down on the pinkish-orange glow of the setting sun. It left a shimmer along the length of the ice.

“Come on.” Dr. Miller reached for my hand and we skated around aimlessly. I glanced around at the other properties. Some had lights on and others were barren. I wondered if the people who lived here were seasonal or lived here year round. Maybe they spent the summers here and used the house as a rental for couples like us throughout the winter.

“This is the best Valentine's Day I've ever had,” I told him. Ice skating outdoors in such a beautiful place made me feel like a kid again. “This is so much fun.”

Dr. Miller smiled and I slowed us both down to give him a kiss.

“Thank you,” I said again.

“You're welcome.” He rested a gloved hand on my cheek.

I looked down toward my skates and then back up. “Everything was fine in my life before, but I've never been this happy. I really just.. I love this. All of it.” I blurted out what I was feeling in that perfectly magical moment. “I love you, Joel.”

His expression changed and he pulled me back into him, hugging me tightly. With his lips to my ear he said quietly, as if he was telling me a secret, “I love you, too.”

Dr. Miller pulled back to face me. I smiled, his face was more serious but he managed a half-smirk. I felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders by confessing that to him; and him saying it back made me want to melt into a puddle on the ice.

He pulled me back into a hug and lifted my hat to kiss my forehead. I closed my eyes and sighed again into his chest. I didn't want to let him go.

Dr. Miller looked down at me. He pecked my lips. “I'm glad you had the courage to say it first. Because I was afraid you might run away if I did.”

“Why would you think that?”

“Between asking you to move in with me, and then depositing the money into your account. I thought saying something like that might completely overwhelm you.” He brushed some hair away from my face.

“Well, I'm glad I could take the lead on this one thing then,” I said to him. “I'm on board with all of it.”

“I’m glad you didn't leave that night,” Dr. Miller confessed. “Because I don't think I could sleep without you.”

“I didn't even make it halfway down to the gate,” I told him with a laugh.

“I know.” He leaned in and kissed me again.. and again. “I love you.”

I breathed out a big, smokey breath. I needed to say it again. “I love you, too.”

Dr. Miller took my hand and we skated back toward our little cabin where the lights in the windows led us back. Our shoes waited for us on the bank where we’d left them by the oversized rock. A light snow began to fall as we walked inside.

I took a deep breath and the warmth of the indoors welcomed me. The contrast was heavenly.

Dr. Miller hung his jacket and scarf, and then made his way into the kitchen where we’d left the bags of food. He reached into one of them and retrieved a bottle of wine. Inside one of the cabinets he found two glasses.

I walked toward him, kicking off my shoes by the door first, and helped him locate a corkscrew.

“What do you say we take this outside?” He asked.

I glanced out the front windows where the snowfall was illuminated by the porch light. “Out there?”

Dr. Miller grinned. “I bet the hot tub temperature is about a hundred degrees.” He popped the cork out of the top of the wine bottle and poured us each a glass. “What do you say?”

I smirked and took one of the wine glasses from the counter, taking a sip. I placed it back down and let the lighter than air mood I was in guide me. I removed my jacket first and tossed it onto the back of a wooden rocking chair in the corner of the living room before peeling off the hooded sweatshirt I had on.

Dr. Miller snickered as I stood in my tank top and jeans before slowly lifting the sleeveless shirt up and over my head, tossing it away.

I never would have done this prior to being with him. Over the course of the relationship thus far I found myself becoming more and more comfortable in these types of situations.

I backed away toward the door, causing him to trail me there with the pair of wine glasses and ditched my pants on the way. My bra went next and I reached for Dr. Miller’s scarf on a hook by the door.

Donning just my skimpy underwear and the scarf, I turned, letting it fall over each of my breasts. He chuckled again and sucked his teeth as he approached where I stood by the door. Dr. Miller placed the glasses down on a small, wooden table.

“You're making a solid argument to stay inside,” he said, pulling me to him for a heated kiss.

“Mmm.. I was trying to make a case to go out.”

“I think you're underestimating my lack of willpower when it comes to you.” Dr. Miller shoved his hand down the front of my lacy, red panties and sighed in my ear as he pulled me against him.

My eyes closed when he nibbled on my neck and penetrated me with his middle two fingers. It was instant gratification; instant pleasure. I moaned quietly and gripped him hard.

“Mmm..” I took a breath, “Now you're making a good argument to stay inside.”

Dr. Miller removed his fingers but kept his hand against me beneath my underwear as he kissed me again. When he pulled back a few seconds later I reached for his hand, trying to pull him back to me.

He stepped back a few feet and just drank me in from head to toe. “That is the sexiest thing I've ever seen in my life.” Dr. Miller visibly gritted his teeth and sighed out loud. “You in my scarf and those see-through panties.” He huffed a lusty breath, “Fuck.”

I ran my hands down both sides of the blue and white scarf and then turned and reached for the doorknob.

“I thought we were staying inside,” Dr. Miller said.

“From what I could tell from being out on the lake, there are no other houses nearby.” I smirked, “And it's not every day you get to have crazy sex outdoors in a hot tub.. in the middle of the woods.. in a snowstorm.”

“On Valentine's Day,” he added.

I opened the door and shuddered from the cold, “Are you coming?”

Dr. Miller snickered again. “I'm most definitely coming.”

CLICK HERE FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER

@untamedheart81 @suttonspuds @cesspitoflove @michilandcof @grogusmum @morallyinept @akah565 @brittmb115 @magpiepills @poodlebae @gobaaby-blog-blog @mermaidgirl30 @mandijo17 @shotgun-shelby @itscatrodriguez-thepearl @macaroni676 @acciowolfstar1 @smolbeanzz @sarcasm-theotherwhitemeat @bandluvr97

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vivian-pascal · 1 month

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Rainy Days ║chapter 4║

roses don't grow without light.

dbf!joel x f!reader

summary: Sarah and your father find out about your secrets with Joel, you're worried you'll never see him again, but I guess that's just how things will be.

warnings: angst, reader crying, kissing, allusions to smut, reader is on birth control.

You turn around and lean against the door. "Shit shit shit." You repeat over again. You run your hand through your hair as you see his cum slowly dripping from your legs. You grab your sweater and wipe as much away as you can.

Joel's still in his bedroom when he hears a little knock on his door. He gets up to open it and is instantly met with his daughter. "Hey kiddo, what'sup?" She looks up at him and looks horrified. His brows furrow when he sees her expression but before he can register, she's bursting into his room.

"Woah there, what's wrong?" She starts to rummage through his drawers as he stands there and watches. She looks under his pillows and comforters as Joel looks at her. "Was anyone over when we were out dad?" He shakes his head and swallows down the lump that's now forming, "No why?"

She looks at Joel with teared stained eyes and throws the comforter down. She runs her hands through her hair as she shakes her head. Joel walks over to her and tries to give her a hug but she only backs away. "So no boy or other man was here?" He nods his head.

Her face immediately turns into anger. "Honey what's wrong?" He reaches out for her but she backs away. "Care to explain the cum dripping from her legs dad?" He stops in his movements. The horror that hit him was like no other. He could hear and feel almost every particle that moved. His eyes were wide as he breathing picked up.

"W-what?" He stammers as he swallows deeply. She points at his chest as she begins to shout. "You said that there was no other boy or man over right? So do you wanna explain why she has cum dripping from her legs cause It sure wasn't from anyone else dad."

His face goes pale. His pupils instantly dilate at what his own daughter just said to him. She shouldn't have to be saying these things to her own father, a father that raised her all by himself. He doesn't want to lose her, he can't. She's all he has in life.

"Dad, did you fuck my best friend?" He slowly begins to back up as he shakes his head. She lowers her finger as tears begin to swell in her eyes. "Why? For gods sake. She's twenty years younger than you." He stands still as he begins to breath deeply. "I didn't fuck her."

She rolls her eyes as she begins to walk to the door. "Don't fucking lie to me dad, you can't cover this up, you know why? Cause she has your fucking cum dripping from her goddamn cunt." She walks away as Joel stands in his doorway.

You could hear the shouting and soon enough, your worst nightmare came true. You heard a knock on the door and when you went to open it, it was your dad.

He looked down at you with sad eyes. "Best if you come downstairs." You nod your head slowly as you made eye contact with Joel as he begins to head down too.

When you close the door, tears instantly fill your eyes. You quickly grab a pair of shorts and wipe your tears away. You open your door and begin to head downstairs. When you walk into the living room, your dad and Joel are on the couch, while, Sarah is stood up pacing around. You decide to take the lounge chair.

Silence fills the room as no one dares to speak. You look at Joel and he has his head in his hands. Your dad stares at you when you look over and your eyes quickly look away at Sarah.

She stands in the kitchen as she watches everyone. She raises her head up and begins to speak. "So? No one can deny it, it's true. They fucked." Joel looks up and begins to talk. "Hey, stop it now. We're goin to talk about this professionally okay? Yes it's true. It only happened once, nothin we can do 'bout it now." Your dad shakes his head as he looks between you and Joel.

"But why? Joel, she's twenty years younger than you, and my daughter for gods sake. Didn't you think about what would happen after?" You look at Joel and he sighs deeply. "We didn't think it'd mean anything dad, we just, we just got caught up in the moment and didn't care about what would happen, it's not that big of a deal."

"Not that big of a deal? Are you fucking kidding me? You had sex with my dad. He's twenty years older than you and he's my dad." Sarah looks at you with horror as her eyes begin to fill with tears. "Do you think i could just forgive you after this?"

Tears begin to fall from your eyes as you watch her. You give her an apologetic look In hopes that she can forgive you. This silly little thing shouldn't have to cause your friendship to crumble. You've known Sarah for all your life. God, why did I do this?

"Look, I'm sorry okay? I went onto Joel when he didn't want to do it but I forced him too for my pleasure. He never forced me to do anything. It's my fault." Joel looks at you with horror. None of that was true and you knew it. "No, that ain't true. I-" "It's true. He just doesn't want me to take the blame but it's my fault." He looks at you with tears in his eyes.

You slowly begin to cry as you keep the pain inside. You hope that maybe this'll help the situation so hopefully the relationship that Joel and Sarah have will stay. They've always had the strongest bond and they shouldn't have to loose that from this.

Your dad looks at you and nods his head. "Why would you do that?" You close your eyes to blink away the tears. "I, I couldn't resist myself. He was just there and I decided to, you know." Joel's mouth goes agape. He couldn't believe what you were saying. He tried to stop you but you only shut him up. Why were you taking all the blame?

"So you forced yourself onto my dad when he didn't want to do it?" You nod your head in agreement at Sarah. She shakes her head as she closes her eyes and more tears begin to fall.

"None of that Is true, she's just tryna take all the blame for some reason I don't understand. We decided to make the choice together. She never forced herself onto me." You look over at him and furrow your brows. "Joel." You grit your teeth. "It's fine, he's just trying to cover for me but I did force myself onto him." He shakes his head with anger as he begins to stand up and walk into the kitchen.

He fills a glass of water and drinks it in one go. Your dad stands up and begins to walk to the stairs. "I think it's best if we, you know, get goin." Sarah nods her head as you begin to walk upstairs. Out the corner of your eye, you can see Joel and Sarah hugging. You smile to yourself as you walk to your room.

You pack all your things into your suitcase and bring it downstairs. You slowly cry yourself to sleep as you think about everything that happened.

Feeling Joel's hands on your body and surrounding you whole. You miss him. You miss his voice, his touch, his gentle aroma. Your not even sure if you'll ever see him again after tomorrow. That'll be one awkward car ride.

In the morning, you get up and get changed into leggings and a sweater. When you walk downstairs, Joel and Sarah are already in the truck outside.

You walk out and give Sarah a small smile and she smiles back softly.

The ride home wasn't much to it. No one was talking and soon enough you were home. You stood in your bedroom as you looked at all the memories you had with Sarah.

When you walk back outside to Joel and Sarah, they're gone. Your heartbeat immediately picks up as you try and look around. Tears start to fall from your face as you try and find them. Your all alone on your driveway.

That's how it'll stay. No more Joel. No more Sarah. Gone forever.

authors note: hey! I really hope you all enjoyed this series! i'm not quite sure if I'm happy with the ending or not but it'll grow on me over time. this chapter is shorter than the rest,sorry! I just wasn't sure how to continue things but I will be writing some more series.

tags!!

@livingonthehems @ursagittariusgirlfriend @iamsherlocked @amyispxnk @pinkcrystal44 @heartpascalispunk @simplewanderer @tupelomiss @heartramen @kotourasan123 @mermaidgirl30

#joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller smut #joel the last of us #dbf!joel #joel miller x reader #pedropascal #joel miller x you

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theclairvoyage · 1 month

Text

Centrifugation: Chapter 4

Series Masterlist

Warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT we’re finally heeeere y’all!! Enjoy :* Unprotected p in v (not gonna bother telling y’all not to do this – you’re gonna do it anyway. Be smart!), praise kink, oral (f receiving), fingering, creampie, a microscopic hint of overstimulation, aftercare, FLUFF, poor attempt at describing wine flavors, mentions of Alzheimer’s.

WC: 6k

Banners courtesy of the lovely @cafekitsune!

Monday, October 18th | 0830

You wake to find that it’s still raining. You went to bed earlier than usual last night, tired from your errands and your much-needed orgasm. Unfortunately, it did nothing to satiate you. Your mind was running amok, the anticipation of this evening was making everything worse. Sighing, you roll over and grab your phone to check your notifications. One from your mom and one from Joel. Mom never texts me, you think. You decide to deal with the bad news first.

Mom: Hey. Call me when you have a chance. Need to talk to you.

Rolling your eyes, you don’t respond. She probably wants to know if you’ve been to church and why you haven’t come to see her in x number of months. You scroll down from the top to click on Joel’s message.

Joel: Morning. Can’t wait to see you later today.

Your chest flutters as you type a response.

You: Same here. Hopefully the rain stops soon.

Joel: Sounds like it’s going to keep on until later this week. Do you have an umbrella?

You: I don’t think so, actually. I’m not a very good Nebraskan

Joel: I have a few, I’ll make sure there’s some in my truck when I come get you.

You: Thank you. *kissy face emoji*

Joel: Need more of those.

You: Real kisses or emoji kisses?

Joel: All of it.

You finally get out of bed, make your coffee, put on a fresh face, and head to the gym. You figure exercising will calm the nerves. After a tough session on the stair stepper, you stop to get some last-minute things at the grocery store and head back home, eager to finish the rest of the day and see Joel.

Monday, October 18th | 1745

Glancing one last time in the mirror, you give yourself a mental thumbs up. Your dress is hugging everything just right, and your makeup looks flawless. You must admit, you look fucking good. You can only imagine what Joel looks like. Slicked back hair, or tousled curls? Slacks and a button up? Either way, he’s going to look mouthwatering. You throw some fresh panties, a toothbrush, and some day-after clothes in your purse, just in case.

Your fantasy is interrupted by a knock at the door. Your eyes widen and you look in the mirror one more time just to make sure all your bases are covered. You open the door and see Joel standing there, your breath catching in your throat at the sight of him.

“Evening, sweetheart. You look—,” he abruptly stops, sucking in a sharp breath and taking you in. He breathes your name quietly, as if all the air in his lungs has been snatched out of them. He looks at you like you’re the end-all-be-all. Awe and desire shimmer in his eyes as they flick up and down your figure. You’re doing the same. He’s got navy slacks on, brown leather shoes, and a white button up underneath a matching navy blazer. No tie. His top two buttons are undone, revealing tanned skin on his broad chest that you want to touch so badly. His hair is slicked a bit at the sides, leaving a few dark tendrils from the top that reach down and kiss his forehead.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he croons, putting his umbrella down and taking your hands in his as he enters your apartment.

“You are, too,” you say, pulling him closer and wrapping your hands around his forearms as he moves his hands to hold your waist. He stares at your face for a while, his expression mirroring that of the night at the bar, right before he kissed you. He leans in and places a kiss on the corner of your mouth. You turn your head slightly and catch his lips in a soft kiss.

“Nothing I imagined even came close to this,” he says as he pulls away. You smile, your cheeks warming at his words. Once again, your stomach ruins the moment with a loud gargle. Joel laughs softly. “Guess we should get goin’, then?” You nod, clutching your stomach in embarrassment. You put on your fuzzy sweater and grab your purse. Joel leads you out of your apartment with one hand on your lower back, umbrella ready to go in the other.

When you both step out of the building, it’s pouring. Joel opens the umbrella, and you scan the lot for his truck. He points to a spot adjacent to the door, maybe 10 steps away. Sighing with relief, you let him guide you to the passenger door. He opens it for you, moving his hand from your back to your hand to give you a boost. No guy has been so chivalrous to you – at least, not without expecting something physical in return. You don’t think Joel is that way – but you want to make him feel good.

He turns the truck on and backs out, leaning on the center console with his right elbow. He smells different than he did at the bar – less whiskey and spice, woodier with a glint of citrus. You turn in your seat to admire him as he drives. The curve of his nose, thick curls dipping down his brow, freshly trimmed black-and-white beard, thick and veiny neck. His shirt exposes the perfect amount of his neck and chest, the sun-kissed rods of his collarbone peeking, no hair to be seen. You can’t really see him as the type to get waxed – must be natural or rubbed away by the friction of wearing his thick flannel shirts for years on end. He notices you ogling him, and the right side of his face curls up in a smirk.

“You alright over there, darlin’?” He cranes his neck your way, moving his hand to rest on the skin above your knee. You relish the warmth of it.

“You clean up nicely, Miller. And you smell good.”

“You should see yourself. God damn,” he says with a squeeze on your knee. It sends white-hot electricity bolting up your leg to your core. He turns to look at you, his gaze molten with desire. You gulp and break eye contact first. You won’t make it into the restaurant if he keeps looking at you like that.

Thankfully, the universe gives you a break and he finally pulls into the parking lot of an impressive Italian Restaurant, Spezia. The restaurant is an old brick building laced with vines; string lights are crisscrossed above the patio area and the name of the restaurant is carved in soft green, cursive neon light above the big front wooden doors. You’d heard a lot of good things about this place but had never been. As he parks, you instinctively pull on your door handle before catching yourself. You turn and see Joel, staring at you with his head tilted and one eyebrow raised as if to scold you. You give him a close-lipped grin. “Sorry, keep forgetting! Just not used to this,” you say, removing your hand from the handle.

“Good girl… we’re gonna change that,” he murmurs, which makes the hairs on the back of your neck stick up straight. Fuck. He gets out and walks over to open your door. You hadn’t noticed that the rain stopped on your way over – too mesmerized by Joel. Guess the universe is looking out for you. He holds out his hand and helps you out, offering you his arm as both of you walk to the front door.

Inside is a dimly lit, open dining room with an array of circle-shaped tables donned in white tablecloths. Tealights are flickering on the tables. Scents of garlic, parmesan, and spices envelope your nostrils. Low music plays, chords of a cello intertwined with a piano and a Sinatra-sounding voice. This is quite romantic – Joel did good. The hostess smiles at both of you. “Reservation for Miller,” Joel says in his gruff voice. She grabs two small black books from behind the podium and beckons you two to follow her. She walks to a table near the windows, two full wine glasses waiting for you at each placemat. It’s white wine, which is perfect – you hate reds. How did he know? “Your server will be with you right away,” she says with a smile. You thank her.

Joel pulls your chair out so you can sit first, his hand brushing your back as he walks over to his seat. You pick up your wine glass and give it a sniff. Sweet, fruity, bubbly – must be moscato. “Did you get some ideas from Keri?” you inquire, raising an eyebrow at him as you take a sip. It’s smooth and not overly sweet, with notes of apple, orange, and honey. He grins. “I’ll never tell, darlin’. Only thing that matters is that you enjoy it.” He cheers your glass and takes a sip, eyes never leaving yours.

You two order some appetizers and entrees when the server comes over. You’re falling into the rhythm of comfortable conversation, once again. He asks about school, your family, your early life. You mention your dad’s death and your rough relationship with your mother, which nearly dissipated after you graduated.

“So, I take it you got a degree, then?” he says, swirling around his glass of wine as he watches you.

“Yep. Biochemistry,” you say, hoping that doesn’t lull him to sleep. You half expect him to ask you why you didn’t become a doctor, the way most people do when they hear biochemistry degree. He sucks in a sharp breath. “Smart, then. Too fuckin’ smart for me. Knew you were, obviously – but that’s proof. Not an easy road. Sarah’s doing nursing,” he says.

“Nursing is tough, too – especially in these days post-pandemic. So much is expected of nurses, but they don’t get the pay or respect they deserve unless they’re traveling nurses,” you add. He nods. “She’s wanted to be a nurse ever since she was a little girl. Stubborn one, my daughter,” he says with a smirk.

“Can’t imagine where she gets it from,” you tease, looking around in mock surprise. He reaches over to squeeze your hand.

“Shut it, beautiful. Y’aint that much better, yourself,” he says. He’s not wrong. Your showdown with Cedric probably told him as much.

Your food comes and you both spend the rest of the dinner enjoying it and a few more glasses of wine. You continue getting to know each other in between bites – or during if you’re Joel. The server comes over with the check and gives it to Joel. He opens it and reads with no reaction on his face and pulls out his wallet to pay. You interrupt him by putting a hand on his arm.

“We can split it, if you want,” you say cautiously. He shakes his head and smiles at you. “’Preciate it, sweetheart. But I’m sticking to my roots here. You deserve a nice night out, and I’m happy to give that to you.” His words make you smile softly.

After the bill comes back, he walks over to pull your chair out and helps you up. You peek outside the window and see that it’s dark now, and the rain is gone for good. “Where to next?” you ask, feigning innocence. He looks at you in a way that makes your stomach churn.

“Want to come over? I’d like to ask you to stay if you’re comfortable. Do you need clothes?” he asks, warm hand curling around your waist as you exit the restaurant. Thanking your past self for packing some clothes, you shake your head. “I’m prepared.” He raises an eyebrow at you. You smile nervously.

“Expected me to ask ya that, huh?” he says, smirking devilishly. You nod matter-of-factly. He laughs and leans in, so his lips are almost touching your ear. “I always keep my promises, darlin’,” he says in a sexy, low voice, making you clench absolutely nothing. You shudder. He opens your door for you and helps you in.

The ride back to Joel’s is quiet, but not in an awkward way. He lives in the Eagle Run neighborhood of West Omaha – an upper middle-class neighborhood near a big golf course. He pulls up to a big, beautiful two-story brick house and clicks on a garage door opener hanging on his vanity mirror. You’re surprised, but should you be? He is a successful business owner with multiple locations in the U.S., after all. The front yard is lined with neatly trimmed shrubbery – Joel’s handiwork, you think – bushes of gorgeous flame azaleas, and two large, older maple trees staked in the middle, leaves sporting a beautiful gradient of red to yellow. He has a Texas Longhorns stone on his front porch that makes you grimace.

“Joel, if we keep seeing each other, that Longhorns stone has got to go. You’re in Cornhusker country now,” you scold playfully. He laughs, silently rejoicing at the notion that you want to keep seeing him. “Darlin’, I’m a true Texas man, and I’m from Austin for Christ’s sake. You’re not even old enough to see how far back the rivalry goes. I’ll never like your Huskers,” he chides. You stick your tongue out at him and open your own door. He doesn’t protest this time. He’s got a three-car garage, the two-car space filled with what appears to be a company truck. “Miller Contracting” is stickered on the back window. The single-car space has a nice BMW 740i sedan that makes your eyes widen.

“Is this your car, Joel?” you ask, walking over to examine it. It has a pearlescent navy-blue coat with a tan leather interior. Sheepishly, he nods.

“When Tommy and I expanded the business, we finally had the time to realize how well we had been doing. I decided to treat myself for once – I got Sarah a car and bought this for myself. Too much, if you ask me, but it’s a sign of how far we’ve come. Reminds me to keep goin’,” he says, looking at the car appreciatively. He’s obviously impressed you from the jump, but now you’re curious as to why he donates plasma – he clearly doesn’t need to.

“So, you donate out of the goodness of your heart, then?” you tease. He laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. “The money is gonna go to Sarah, so she’s got some fun money. She works, and I give her money now and then, but want her to understand it all comes with a limit,” he says. Good dad – teaching his daughter responsibility and sacrificing his time and bodily fluids while doing it. You nod. He opens the door to the house and beckons you to go in first.

The door leads into a large laundry room. He guides you through there and into the kitchen, which makes your jaw drop. Beautiful, shiny hardwood floors are the first thing you notice – again, you’d be surprised if Joel hadn’t done these himself. In the middle is an enormous island, with a deep sink and stainless-steel dishwasher. The refrigerator, also stainless-steel, is probably twice the width of the dinky one in your apartment. Adjacent to it is a beer and wine fridge, filled with bottles of red and white wine, and tons of Coors Light. You smirk, thinking Joel was just a whiskey guy. You bet he has a full bar downstairs with tons of different whiskeys. Countertops of gorgeous white and black marble draw your attention, and you find yourself running a hand over the top of one instinctively. Smooth. Joel admires you while you admire his kitchen.

“Want something to drink, darlin’?” he asks, grabbing two wine glasses out of the cupboard near the fridge. “Got wine, beer, and your fav’ downstairs,” he adds with a wink. Whiskey, duh. You’re not drunk, and your nerves are starting to rein in. “Wine is good – keep the theme of the night going,” you say, flashing your teeth at him. They draw his eyes like a magnet, and they flash obsidian. He pops the cork out of a bottle of some white wine and pours you both a glass. You walk over and grab the bottle to inspect the label. Chateau d'Yquem, 2020. You don’t dare guess how much this cost. Joel notices your curiosity.

“S’from a client that lives ‘round here,” he says, sauntering over you, glasses in hand. You nod. “Oh? Contracting client or…?” you ponder, smirking at him with one eyebrow raised. “Let’s just say I’m good with my hands,” he winks at you and hands you a glass.

You take a sip, closing your eyes to examine the flavors. Sweet citrus hits you first – mango, pineapple, apricot – followed by a rush of sea salt and an almost yeasty flavor. The wine you’re used to drinking is Barefoot and sickly sweet – this is otherworldly. You find yourself moaning softly. “Wow, Joel… that’s – that’s something else,” you say, noticing him white-knuckling the countertop with his free hand, clearly affected by your reaction to the wine.

He puts his glass down and takes his jacket off, walking back to the laundry room to hang it up. You’re leaning stomach-first against the island, facing what looks like a dining area with some large bay windows. His footsteps approach you and hands smooth around your waist to latch in front of you, on your stomach. His warm frame envelopes your back. You sink into him and lean your head back on his shoulder. He kisses your neck, squeezing your stomach and breathing in your scent. Your breath hitches and you clutch his arms. His mouth moves up your neck to nibble on your earlobe – he remembers your hot spots – and you gasp, tingles cascading down your spine. He tucks your hair over to the other side and starts working his lips and teeth on your neck and shoulders.

“Fuck – y-you gonna give me the tour, or what?” you sputter as he bites lightly on your shoulder. He hums and kisses his way back up your neck, stopping his lips right at your ear. “Good idea, darlin’,” he murmurs. He lets go of you briefly, taking your hand to lead you through the dining area to the living room. It’s a giant room, filled with leather couches, a huge TV mounted on the wall, and high vaulted ceilings.

“Living room,” he says monotonously. You giggle. You take it he’s not too keen on hosting. You wind your way to the front of the house near the front door. He takes you up the stairs, and you marvel at a modern wood pendant chandelier, casting an amber glow on the foyer. The walls in this part of the house are a navy blue – must be his favorite color. He walks to French doors a few paces in front of the staircase and pushes one open, clutching your hand with his other hand still.

You’ve entered a large room with dark gray walls – presumably Joel’s. There’s a king bed in the middle, two beautiful handcrafted wooden nightstands perched at each side. A smaller wooden pendant light with a fan hangs on the ceiling, which is also vaulted in this room. In one corner of the room lies a black leather chair, with a plaid handmade quilt hanging over the back. Paintings of a forest, mountains, and a buffalo line the walls – very Joel-esque.

The other side of the room leads to a bathroom bigger than your entire apartment. “Jesus, Joel… your house is beautiful,” you say, stepping in the bathroom and marveling at the size. A Jacuzzi is on your right, two sinks on your left with a giant LED mirror hanging above them. Next to the Jacuzzi is a walk-in tiled shower with opposing shower heads and a generous seating area. You raise your eyebrows at the thought of the activities that could be had in here.

Joel watches you learn the anatomy of his bedroom and bathroom, admiring your childlike curiosity. You’re beautiful, very much so, but something in your eyes catches his interest – the way you study things. Eyes inquisitively scanning each part of the room, hands testing whatever theory is in your brain. He wonders what you see. You stop studying and turn, catching him staring. The way he looks at you makes you freeze. Desire, admiration, amusement. His eyes travel up and down your frame. You take slow steps toward him, eyes never leaving his.

“Have I told you that you’re fuckin’ beautiful?” he says hoarsely, hands latching on to your hips as you get close to him.

“I don’t think so…” you say, eyes looking up and to the side in mock confusion. He pulls you flush to him, and you turn to face him.

“Can’t stop starin’ at you ‘cause you’re so goddamn pretty,” he says in a low, gravelly voice, tilting his head toward you and leaning in. Your eyes flick down to his parted lips, yours doing the same as you get closer.

When your lips meet, finally, a flame is lit inside you. Passion overtakes both of you, mouths opening and tongues tangling. His hands are gripping your hips, your ass, your waist – yours find home in his curls and tug lightly. You’re reminded of how much he enjoys that when he moans into your mouth. You’re dripping already, and still, he’s barely touched you.

He picks you up and you break the kiss momentarily with a yelp, causing him to chuckle. He leads you to the bed and lays you down, hands smoothing down your torso and legs as he stands to remove his shoes. You watch him quietly, chest heaving in anticipation. He returns to you as if he can’t bear another moment not glued to you and kisses you, hard. His teeth graze your lower lip and pull, making you moan. He kisses the corner of your mouth, the curve of your jaw, down your throat and stops at your clothed collarbone.

“Sit up, sweetheart,” he orders softly. You obey. Staring deeply into your eyes, he reaches behind you and pulls the zipper of your dress down. You remember now that you chose to forgo a bra, but you made sure to wear some sexy lace panties that are soaked through by now. He pulls the dress off as you reach your arms out, a low growl escaping his throat at the sight of your naked upper body. “Good god, girl,” he breathes in awe, pulling the dress down your legs to expose your black lace thong. Black was a good choice – the puddle seeping through is invisible—for now. You lie back on the bed as he admires your curves and exposed skin. You see his hardness poking through his pants and his eyes are molten.

Not wanting to go another moment without touching you, he crawls on the bed and kisses you again, one hand curling under your head to support you, the other snaking up your stomach to palm one of your breasts. You let out a moan as he kneads it, pinching your nipple before he moves to the other one. He starts kissing down your neck again, down your sternum, moving down further to suck one nipple into his mouth, moaning at the taste. Your back arches and your hands knead his scalp as you whine softly at the pleasure. He suckles the other nipple, one of his hands skimming down your stomach to your thigh. The new touch makes you jump a bit. He lets go of your nipple with a pop and looks up at you.

“Y’alright, baby?” he says, genuinely concerned. Smoothing hair out of his face, you nod. “Haven’t been touched there in a while,” you admit, cheeks warming. He comes back up to kiss your lips softly. “I’ll take care of you, I promise,” he says, forehead resting against yours. You cup his face with your hands and give him a quick kiss.

“I know,” you whisper, lost in his chocolate gaze. He starts kissing down your torso again and stops once he reaches lace. You’re squirming a bit, and he peeks up at you, silently asking for your permission. You nod. He kisses the inside of your right thigh, ending with a nip before moving to the left one. Your hips are already grinding in anticipation of what he’ll do next. Looking in your eyes, he hooks his thumbs in the waistband and pulls them down, leaving you completely bare.

“Jesus Christ… so perfect,” he breathes, admiring all of you. Your pussy is glistening, the mess he’s been creating finally visible to him. “You’re fuckin’ soaked, baby – you want me this much?”

“Yes, Joel,” you pant, needy. He growls again.

“You got no idea how much I want you, darlin’,” he says, shuffling down on the bed and hooking one of your legs over his shoulder. He places wet kisses on your mound and on the sides of your core, not quite touching you where you want him. You groan. You feel his smile curve on your inner thigh.

“Tell me, baby, talk to me,” he teases, watching you as his lips inch closer to your cunt. Your back arches again, frustrated with anticipation and desire. “I want your mouth on me, Joel,” you whine.

When his tongue finally darts out to taste you, you gasp, hands flying to grip his hair. He moans at how good you taste, the vibrations sending shockwaves through your core. He starts with slow, flat strokes of his tongue up your center, occasionally stopping to gather more spit and slick at your entrance. You moan, louder this time, his pace and the warmth of his tongue sending you closer to the edge. He stops at your bundle of nerves and sucks lightly, which nearly snaps you in half. His hands hold your hips in an iron grip, preventing you from being excused from the pleasure he’s so willingly giving you. He pulls his mouth away briefly to look at you, lips and chin glistening.

“Fuck, you taste so goddamn good,” he rumbles, removing one hand from your hip to slowly open you up. You moan at the stretch – not only has it been a while for you, but he’s got thick fingers. “So tight, baby – think you can take another?” he says, watching your pussy grip and wet his finger. You moan in approval, head and eyes rolled back.

“Look at me,” he orders, breathless. “I wanna see you.” You lift your head up to watch him as he slips another finger in and crooks them both, your eyes widening and mouth falling open at the expansion of your walls. You can’t even imagine what his dick will feel like. He looks absolutely wrecked – as if seeing you undone like this is pushing him to his own edge.

“Good girl,” He praises you, making you swoon. He latches his mouth onto your pussy again, picking up the pace with his fingers as he licks and sucks on you. He moans as he eats you out, which only gets you to the top faster – knowing that he loves doing this to you. Your legs are starting to shake and flex, putting him in a headlock. He’s pumping his fingers in and out of you, each bump of your G-spot sending white-hot pleasure up your stomach.

“Come on, baby – give it to me,” he says, mouth still on your clit. You’re gripping his collar, hair, back of his neck, whatever you can grab as you get closer and closer to the peak.

“Fuck, Joel! I’m so close—” you moan, your breaths coming out in quick, heavy heaves. He takes this as a challenge, suckling on your folds while moving his head from side to side. His beard chafes at the skin on your inner thighs. His fingers curl upward inside you as they continue their ravaging, and you’re done for. Finally, the band inside you snaps – leaving you trembling and spitting a barrage of Joel’s name and curse words as you come, hard. He’s loving every minute of it, lapping you up while your muscles spasm around his fingers, legs threatening to crush his skull. He’s groaning as he watches you come, in awe of your beauty and the pleasure painted on your features. He only stops when your legs loosen their grip on his shoulders and head, another growl leaving him as he kisses his way up to your body to your lips. You moan softly as you taste yourself on him.

You realize he’s still fully clothed and reach down to unbutton his shirt. He quickens the process by removing his belt and then his pants and boxers, struggling to pull them over his rock-hard cock. Mouths still slotted together, he presses himself flush against you, his naked body warming yours. You reach down to stroke him, a moan escaping from his lips. Precome oozes down the head of his cock and you rub it up and down his length. He’s thick.

“Baby, be careful – I want this to last as long as possible,” he pants, looking just as wrecked as earlier. You surrender and let go of him, your hands gripping his back as he continues to lick into your mouth while grinding his hips on yours. The head of his cock strokes your wet folds, causing you both to moan. He breaks the kiss to look you in the eyes, the only sound in the room your labored breaths.

“Fuck, you’re so wet for me – you ready, darlin’?” He asks. You love that he wants nothing more than to make you feel good. You nod, biting your lip in excitement. He sits back on his heels and guides his cock through your folds a few more times, watching you writhe. He smirks. “I know, baby. I’ll give you what you need, don’t worry.”

His cock notches at your entrance and starts to slip in, slowly. Leaning over you, he grabs your right leg and grapples it over his hip as you both watch each other feel one another for the first time. Both of your mouths agape, you moan in unison as he slowly sinks further into you. It’s nothing like either of you have ever felt or imagined—your bodies seem like they’re made for the other. Each inch he gives you sends shockwaves shooting up your back, and the combination of your warmth, wetness, and tightness is an entirely new sensation for him.

“So beautiful, baby – fuck, you are perfect,” he groans as he fills you up. The stretch and girth of him rip you apart at first, but the pain fades to achy pleasure as your muscles acclimate to his size. He’s still watching you, waiting to see what you look like when he’s all the way in. The tip of his cock hits your cervix, and you cry out, eyes squeezing shut momentarily. His hand moves to your jaw, pulling your forehead to his and forcing your eyes open. “Come on, baby – need to see those gorgeous eyes.”

Your walls are spasming, the stretch of him, combined with the pleasure and anticipation of your first time together, overwhelming your muscles with adrenaline. He reads your mind. “Relax, baby girl, I got ya,” he soothes, leaning down to kiss you as he slowly starts to pull out of you. You will yourself to relax just a bit, your body rewarding you with micro-tremors of pleasure. Still watching you, he quickens his thrusts. You’re reaching the peak again, brows furrowed and hands gripping him so tightly he might have bruises tomorrow.

He sits up and grasps your hips as he pounds into you harder, the new angle and pressure pushing you over the fucking edge. His eyes travel from your face to your body beneath him and he tries to commit every snapshot to memory—he can’t stop looking at you, can’t forget this. Your breasts bouncing with each thrust, the curve of your abdomen and hips, the look of pure bliss on your face—he loves every second of it.

“Gimme another one, baby, know you can do it,” He groans, feeling your muscles gripping him as he continues to pound into you. The room is filled with an orchestra of skin slapping skin, curses, and cries of pleasure from both of you. Pleasure and pain intertwine to stretch the band inside you once again, your second orgasm on the brink. Joel is close, too – eyebrows threaded together, teeth gritted, hands bruising your hipbones, thrusts becoming less and less uniform.

“Fuck, you feel so fuckin’ good, gonna make me come,” he praises, looking into your eyes. You’re so close, legs trembling again and nails clawing at his forearms, vision blurring as pleasure overtakes the rest of your senses – but you manage to keep your eyes on him.

“Where d’you want it, baby? I’m close,” he pants, trying desperately to hold on so you can reach another high.

“Inside me—oh, fuck—I’m on the pill,” you respond, trying your hardest to speak coherently. His eyes darken for a moment, thrilled at the thought of filling you up. He slows his pace slightly and increases the pressure of his thrusts, and you come hard, high-pitched moans of his name replacing normal speech. That does it for him. He spills inside you, each contraction of your pussy sucking more spend out of his cock. He’s rambling as he empties himself inside you – good girl, you did so good for me, so beautiful when you come. You’ve never experienced this magnitude of pleasure with someone else, nonetheless felt so connected physically and emotionally. He collapses on you while still inside you, mouth finding yours for a searing kiss. He pulls back after a while and brushes your hair from your face, cradling the crown of your head in his hands. “Told ya I keep my promises,” he says, kissing your forehead softly. You hum in delight.

You both lie there for a moment, relishing in what both of you can say was the best sex ever. Joel finally pulls out of you, bringing some of him with him. He gets up and walks toward the bathroom, returning with a warm towel to clean you up. You squirm as he wipes you up, still sensitive and thighs raw from his beard scratching you there.

“Sorry, baby,” he apologizes, smiling contritely at you as he wipes up the last remnants of him and you from your thighs. He returns the towel to the bathroom and comes back to bed, pulling you into his chest, arm draped around your midsection. You’re about to doze off as Joel turns you to face him, eyes crinkled with worry. Concerned, you prop yourself on your elbow, mirroring him.

“You okay, Joel?” you ask. He smiles genuinely at you. “Yeah, I just—,” he sighs, pushing a stray hair behind your ear, thumb stroking your cheek. “Didn’t want ya to think I brought ya here just for this.” His expression is so pained, so worried. You lean in to kiss him gently on the lips. “I know, and I didn’t come here just for this,” you remind him, “Truly.”

“I know, baby. I know we just met, and I’m an old man, but—but you’re special, and I feel like this is different,” he says, staring into your eyes with so much affection it makes you want to cry. “I want to make sure I do this right.” He grabs your hand and plants a soft kiss on it.

“I trust you,” you say. And you do – and he believes you.

Taglist: @burntheedges <3

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #centrifugation #pedro pascal fandom

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chaotic-mystery · 10 months

Text

Jaded | J.M.

ꨄ Pairing: bfd!Joel x f!reader

ꨄ Summary: It’s been rocky between you and your secret boyfriend who just so happens to also be your best friends dad, ever since you moved to a new city without him. Surprising him for his birthday probably wasn’t the best idea, for either one of you.

ꨄ CW: established relationship, age gap (Joel’s in his late 40s, reader late 20s) swearing, mean!joel, arguing, Joel saying stuff he doesn’t mean like usual, no outbreak!au.

ꨄ WC:2.6k

A/N: am I an asshole for leaving it the way I did? Maybe. We all knew it was coming though! This honestly broke my heart and I hope it reads how I envisioned it. Let me know what you think! 🖤

🝮Songs to listen to for this🝮

Jaded - Miley Cyrus

Sucks 4 U - Sophie Cates

Complicated - Avril Lavigne

Look After You - The Fray

Over You - Daughtry

About You - The 1975

“Joel..” you muttered with your eyes still closed, your arm extending out to the other side of your bed. Slowly blinking your eyes open and sitting up, you breathed in deeply as you looked around confused. There was no reason you should’ve been calling out his name considering he hasn’t come to see you in weeks. Joel was older, it was unrealistic to think he’d text you many times during the day. He preferred calling or coming to visit when he had the weekend off. The past few weekends he decided to stay home which didn’t bother you, but he didn’t call much either. If he did call, it was short and brief, like it was a chore. Joel used to lay the phone on his bare chest, your voice on speaker while he dozed off listening to how pretty you sounded. That hasn’t happened in months.

You hurried to find your phone on the floor, texting Sarah as fast as your fingers could type.

Hey! Are you guys doing anything for your dad’s birthday this weekend?? Should we drive to see him?

Minutes that felt like hours passed and you bit at the inside of your cheek in nervousness, dying to see her response.

I heard from Uncle Tommy they were throwing a surprise party, but i won’t be able to make it home this weekend, soccer game! Feel free to go tho, I’m sure he won’t mind you taking my place! Love ya xo

Your thumb brushed over the side of your phone as you reread the text about a dozen times, contemplating the idea of going. What if he didn’t want to see you? Could you handle that amount of rejection? You needed answers from him though, what happened to him where he felt comfortable treating you like a stranger? Fuck it.

In a matter of 30 minutes you managed to get every single detail from Tommy, your bag packed and GPS routed to Joel’s house. It seemed a little crazy, a spur of the moment trip to drive 4 hours to confront the man who was trying to ghost you. As you got in your car and your playlist blaring through the speakers, you gave yourself a small pep talk, bracing yourself for whatever was about to happen tonight.

———————-

Finally you arrived at the Millers house, Joel’s truck nowhere in sight. You parked a few houses away so he wouldn’t see your car if he took the same route he always did to get home. Tommy pushed the screen door open and greeted you with his arms open and a grin on his face, a kitchen towel over his shoulder. “Well well well, she does live!” Tommy joked with you and grabbed your bag from your hand, walking up the sidewalk to the house. “Alive and well, just fucking starving and I need a shower before I get dressed.” Your arms wrapped around his torso and hugged him tightly. Tommy knew about you and Joel, he knew not to tell Sarah or lead on to anything going on between you and Joel in front of her. “Well c’mon then! Get your shit and let’s go inside, fix ya somethin’ to eat. Joel’s at work but he’ll be here after. All your shit is still upstairs so go on while I make you something I can find in this god forsaken fridge.” Tommy shouted from the kitchen as you shut the front door. Birthday decorations scattered across the walls and the floor, balloons tied to the lamps. Joel always told you to not make a big fuss over his birthday but you and Tommy never listened. Surprise parties were your thing you did for him, so it was nice to see Tommy continuing the tradition. This would make surprise party number three for Joel since you started dating him, and it stung a little bit you didn’t think to come down and plan one for him regardless if he deserved it or not.

You walked up the stairs to Joel’s room, pushing the door open slowly before poking your head in. It smelled just the same, the cologne you got him mixed with the faintest hint of laundry soap that he swore up and down was the best. Tossing your bag on his bed and sighing deeply, you ran a hand through your hair as you wondered what the hell were you doing here.

I miss you! Can I see you this weekend, maybe grab a bite at that favorite restaurant of yours down here? You hesitated to hit send, your heart racing in your chest.

Too nervous to sit and wait for his response, you stripped and made your way to his bathroom. The hair soap you swore you left was nowhere to be found. There was Joel’s sitting on the shelf, so what happened to yours? They were pretty full and Joel didn’t like to use yours. A pit grew in your stomach, the confusion eating at you. As you stepped under the warm water, your tears started to flow freely. It was like Joel was slowly erasing you from his life, piece by piece. For what?

You washed your hair quickly and grabbed the body soap and your wash cloth. Your eyes couldn’t help but flick down to where your soap bottles used to sit, anger coursing through you. If he wanted to see other people, he should’ve just been fucking honest. As you dried off and started to get ready, your mind replayed everything that could’ve caused this. Your relationship wasn’t perfect by any means, you fought almost daily a few months ago before he stopped calling so much. It would be over nothing, just Joel being stubborn. He’d bring up your age and how you’d get bored of him, how he’s not the man you want, how you resent him for not wanting to move with you, stuff you’d never say about him. He was the one that was embarrassed of you. He never wanted you to meet his friends, and when he got tired of your begging and pleading, he finally took you out with them to the bar. That was a fucking joke you thought to yourself as you recalled that night from a year ago.

“Joel what the fuck was that? Why didn’t you call me your girlfriend when you introduced me to them?” you questioned as you got out of his truck in his driveway. You slammed the door shut and he groaned loudly from inside the vehicle, climbing out reluctantly. “The hell are you on about? I told ‘em we were datin’, is that not good enough?” He loved doing that thing where he’d spin it back on you and make you feel so stupid for even bringing it up. “Oh my god, no It’s not like that! I just wanted to know why you didn’t tell them I was your girlfriend and have been for a year!” you bursted through the front door and threw off your purse, tossing it to the ground. “Well excuse the hell outta me! I thought it was the same fuckin’ thing!” he shouted, following you through the house to his room. “Why does it matter so much to you? If you’re with me, what’s it matter, huh?” Joel's hands grabbed your arms and forced you to look at him, his face riddled with confusion and anger. “Because, Joel! I love you and you’re fucking embarrassed to show anyone that!” The hot tears were streaming down your face as you tried to fight him to let go. His face finally softened and he sighed. “Baby…”

That was so long ago and here you were now in his room, finding out the man you thought loved you had maybe not wanted you anymore. Finally zipping up your dress, you fixed your hair one last time and checked your makeup. Something came over you and told you to open the bedside table you used to call yours, wondering if anything was touched. The cool wood brushed over your knuckles as you grabbed the knob and pulled gently, bracing yourself for whatever could be in there. All of your old pictures of you two were in a pile, scattered like someone was digging through them from time to time. The one that was your favorite was all the way at the bottom. It was of Joel, in the ocean and he looks gorgeous. That was your first vacation together, you both went to go see Sarah’s soccer game and you snuck away together while she was at practice to go swimming. He told you he’d help you learn how to swim so he took you out so far you almost couldn’t touch and helped you get over your fear of drowning. “I won’t let that happen, ok? I gotcha sweet pea. Don’t be scared, I’m here.” You recalled how his arms wrapped around you and you felt so safe. He looked so ethereal, like he wasn’t real.

You closed the drawer and found your phone buried under your towel on the bed, checking to see if maybe Joel messaged you back. Nothing. There was nothing. A sigh of frustration left your lips and you walked out of Joel’s room, looking for Tommy downstairs. He was in the kitchen getting the drinks and snacks out. “There you are! I made ya a grilled cheese but it got cold, thought ya fell asleep up there girl, been almost two hours.” Tommy’s eyes met yours and he noticed you weren’t your normal self. He gave an apologetic smile and rubbed your back softly, “Cmon, we’ve got about fifteen minutes ‘fore he gets here. Help me with the cake?” You gave Tommy a small smile and nodded, reaching to open the box the cake was in. You both were careful not to bump the box on it and set it on the table for everyone to see. His house filled up rather quickly with people while you were upstairs for those couple hours, which to you felt like minutes.

“Everyone get down, he’s here!” someone shouted from the living room and suddenly the lights went out, leaving you standing in pure darkness. Tommy tugged your arm and you snapped out of the transe you were in, crouching down in front of the kitchen table. The front door swung open and there he was, your man. The broad shoulders on the silhouette made your breath hitch and your knees weak. Immediately the lights went on and everyone popped out shouting happy birthday. Joel’s face lit up with a smile and the little confetti poppers went off, small rainbow bits of paper cascading down to the floor in front of him. He was met with many hugs as everyone crowded him, leaving you by the table by yourself. You couldn’t bring yourself to go up there to him, not in front of all these people. Small conversations were forming as Joel was finally making his way out of the clump of bodies, his beautiful brown eyes locking with yours.

“H-happy birthday.” you stated quieter than you wanted. His arm dropped to his side as his smile slowly faded, walking over to you. “What’re you doin’ here?” Joel asked harshly. Was that all he had to say? A lump grew in your throat and your mouth went dry. “Tommy um, Tommy invited me.” Great, now you were stuttering and tripping over your words. Joel was now toe to toe with you, his expression not changing. “Oh” he muttered sarcastically and nodded. Tears stung your eyes at his cold tone and you knew you couldn’t deal with this all night. “Listen, I’ll go if you want me to, just tell me…but if I walk out that door Joel, we’re done. I can’t do this anymore and by the looks of it, you don’t want to do it either. You’ve practically hidden every single memory of me or gotten rid of it and for what?” your eyes were overfilled with tears as they threatened to spill from the outer corners and Joel's head snapped away, his jaw clenching at the silence you shared.

“Yeah, I want you to leave. We’re done.” He didn’t even have the fucking decency to look at you when he said it, when he plunged the knife into your heart. There was nothing more you could say to him to see how hurt you were, how much you wanted him to beg you to stay. You wanted him to tell you why he’d been acting this way for months and why he felt so comfortable acting like you meant nothing to him after three years. You pushed passed him and ran up the stairs to gather your bag. He didn’t deserve you, and that was so clear now. He didn’t deserve all the late nights you stayed up with him and assured him Sarah wouldn’t find out about you two. How many vacations you took him on just to get him out of Texas. He didn’t deserve all the brand new things you introduced him to. Most importantly, he didn’t deserve the amount of patience you had with him. He was as stubborn as a fucking mule, but not once did you ever think about giving up on him like he was doing to you right now.

Mascara was running down your face as you practically sprinted to your car, your bag flailing behind you. You dropped your car keys trying to unlock your trunk and you lost it. You leaned against the trunk with your hands covering your face, sobbing your heart out. You gave him everything, you gave him all of you. “Wait, don’t go..” Joel shouted out of breath as he ran down the sidewalk. You looked up at him through blurry eyes, that burning anger igniting in your stomach once more. “No, fuck you! I’m leaving. I told you if you let me walk out that door we were done and what did you do? YOU LET ME LEAVE!” your voice echoed between the houses but you didn’t care anymore. “You’re nothing but a selfish asshole, Joel. I should’ve known better than to think you wouldn’t break my heart. Fuck you, just go.”

His arms engulfed you and you beat your fists on his chest, crying harder than you were before. Joel’s grip on you tightened as he pulled you in close, shushing you quietly. “Stop, just stop. Shhh” he whispered and petted the back of your head softly. “I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry, sweet pea. I think I just got so busy with work and you with getting adjusted in your new place, we were like ships passing in the night.” Joel’s hands cupped your face, his thumb swiping away your tears. “You don’t just give up and act like I don’t exist Joel! Why would you do that to me?!” you demanded and looked at him through tear clumped lashes. “I thought it was easier for you! Jus’ let me prove to you I can be a better man to you, darlin. Please, I need you. I’ve been so lonely without you.” Joel’s tone softened as his voice cracked, a tear falling down his face.

“This is what I’ve been wanting to hear for months. I need some space. I can’t keep doing this shit, Joel. Happy birthday.” You placed a photo of you and him in his hand that you swiped from the drawer earlier. A croak of your name left his lips before you walked away and climbed into your car. You looked at him one last time in the rearview mirror as he stood there staring at everything he just fucked up. He needed to sit with what he’d done, and you had a lot to think about on your drive back home.

#joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller x you #the last of us #bfd!joel #bfd!joel miller #this killed me #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller angst #pedro pascal characters

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thetriumphantpanda · 11 months

Text

Ghost of You | J. Miller (Chapter 2)

Series Summary / Grief is a strange thing. In the beginning it had been all-consuming. There wasn’t a moment of the day where you didn’t cry, didn’t ask yourself why it couldn’t have been you instead. And no-one ever explains the guilt you feel when it isn’t anymore. When it’s just a dull ache and you can finally breathe again, when you can start letting people get close to you again. People like Joel Miller.

Pairing / Joel Miller x Widow F!Reader

Word Count / 3K

Warnings / Descriptions of grief and depression, soft!Joel (He needs his own warning I swear), slow burn but nothing else

Authors Note / I AM SO OVERWHELMED FOR THE LOVE FOR CHAPTER ONE. I'm so glad you guys have enjoyed it so far. This fic is incredibly personal to me. I've not lost a husband or a boyfriend (apart from a typical breakup) but over the recent years I've lost several family members so grief is close to me. I hope you enjoy chapter two - if you like it then comments, reblogs and asks are always helpful - thanks as always for your support of my writing.

Main Masterlist / Series Masterlist

The sun is only starting to colour the sky when you wake that morning. It’s already warm in your bedroom, sheets pushed to one side and that’s when you realise why you’ve woken. Leg draped over the mound of sheets, hand resting on the empty side of the bed, head rested on the pillow that isn’t yours. Because it feels like him. You roll over onto your back and drape your arm over your eyes, letting the pressure bring you back to the real world.

Once you were sure your breathing was somewhere close to normal, you push yourself off the bed and pad down the hallway to the bathroom. You turn on the shower, waiting for the water to warm up before you step under the spray. There’s something about this routine that helps ground you too. Counting the steps in your mind, ticking them off the to-do list. Shampoo hair. Done. Condition ends. Done. Scrub skin. Done. Brush teeth. Done.

By the time you’re setting the coffee to filter, you’ve already made it to sunrise, and you haven’t cried. It’s not healthy, and you know it, but this little competition with yourself helps, seeing how far you can make it through the day without thoughts so deep you have to pack yourself back to bed to try again tomorrow.

Sitting on the bench on the front porch, it’s still quiet. The only people milling about the street were the people heading out on patrol, swapping with those who were coming back. No-one paid you much mind, sitting by yourself, mug cradled in your hands, which was the way you preferred it. You sat there, watching the sky changing colour as the sun rose in earnest, until you could see Maria in the distance, walking towards you. You gave her a small wave, taking your mug inside before grabbing what you needed. Ration cards. Yes. Keys. Yes. Shopping bag. Yes.

“Good morning, honey.” She greets, kiss pressed to your cheek and arms pulling you into a hug.

You wish her a good morning whilst you wrap your arms around her. She’d been your strength this past year. Never pushing you more than she thought you could take, always there when you needed her shoulder to cry on. She’d fed you for the first few months when you couldn’t bear to cook yourself. She truly was the best friend you’d ever had.

You fell into a comfortable silence as you made your way to the market hall. At one point, you wouldn’t have let go of Maria’s arm, but now, you were happy to walk alongside her, hands shoved into the pockets of your jeans. They were small steps, but steps in the right direction none-the-less.

Halfway to the market hall, you could see Joel walking towards you from the other direction. Gun slung over his shoulder, he looks as though he’s just coming back from patrol.

“Good mornin’, ladies,” He greets, “Going anywhere nice?”

“Just to the market,” Maria replies, “Good patrol?”

“Uneventful, so I guess you could say so,” He turns to you now, “I’m sorry I haven’t had a chance to come by and sort that table out for you, I’m off tomorrow, how about I swing by then?”

You smile and nod, “Of course, whenever is good for you.”

He bids you both goodbye, he’d been up all night patrolling the walls and was ready to collapse, and when you began walking again, you could feel Maria’s eyes on you and the slight smirk on her mouth. It wasn’t until you were picking up a bowl of tomatoes that she decided to press the subject.

“Joel making himself at home then?”

“He just fixed one of my steps is all,” You replied, refusing to meet her eyes, “And then I asked him to build the table and chairs I wanted, and he agreed.”

She pursed her lips and nodded, but the smirk was still across her lips, “I know what you’re thinking!” You exclaim, moving to walk down the aisle from her, she jogs to catch up, “It’s nothing Maria, and it’s shameful of you to suggest otherwise, it’s barely been a year.”

“I’m sorry,” She speaks softly, taking hold of your arm, “That was wrong of me, what I really meant was that it’s nice that you’re getting back out there, making friends, I didn’t mean to insinuate anything.”

“No, I’m sorry for snapping,” You sigh, raking a hand through your hair.

Maria presses a hand to your shoulder in comfort, “Let’s finish up here and get you home.”

You nod and spend the rest of your time in the market in silence. You pick up more fresh strawberries, along with the rest of your essentials. Maria helps you drop everything in your kitchen when you return and gives you another strong hug, “I’m sorry honey, about earlier, I didn’t mean for it to sound like I was assuming anything.”

“It’s honestly fine Maria,” You reassured, putting the flour and honey you’d bought in one of your cupboards, “I’m trying,” You sighed, “Just trying to get back to living, and he was nice to me, I’m not interested in anything else but it sure would be nice to have another friend.”

She nods in understanding, “You know, for the longest time I hated him,” She speaks quietly, “When I met Tommy, the stories he told me, the things they’d both done to get to where they were, I thought he was a terrible person, but the more time I’ve spent with him, I know deep down he has a good heart, I think he might be good for you,” She says, “As a friend, of course.” She adds finally.

She leaves you then and suddenly it feels empty in your home. It always does. There is no sound of warm laughter, no sound of another pair of boots on the wooden floor. It’s the quiet that really tightens your chest these days. You look to the stairs; it would be so easy to climb them and collapse into bed right now. Ignore your feelings for a while. Maybe fall into a dreamless sleep and just try again tomorrow. Your feet are almost carrying you before you stop yourself. Not today, you think. It’s not going to get the better of you today. Your eyes fall to the fresh box of strawberries on your counter and you’re moving before you realise what you’re doing.

An hour later, there’s a fresh strawberry pie cooling on the side. It was a frivolous use of your flour and butter ration, but the smell of the pastry reminds you of your mother. She always had some kind of fresh pie cooling on the side when you came home from school. Always served it with ice cream after dinner. Mark was always pragmatic with rations; he would have never let you use your feeble allowance on such a thing. You’d always used the flour for bread, butter was saved for making sandwiches, or spreading on the last slices on the weekend when you toasted it as a treat.

Looking at the pie, you know you should feel silly, but you don’t. You feel proud of yourself. You can almost hear Mark’s voice in your head, he’d call you a silly girl, but he wouldn’t mean it. He’d chastise you for wasting your resources, but with a smile on his face. And then he would gladly take the slice you offered him. He’d kiss you with sugary lips and wipe the flour from your cheeks. Doing something he wouldn’t approve of was good, surely? Moving on, in a tiny step, to making your own life.

There’s a feeling of guilt beneath you though, looking at the pie. You can’t bring yourself to cut a slice. Can’t bring yourself to feel the joy of the fruit in your mouth. How silly to think that one simple thing could fix you. You shake your head and leave it cooling on the side, curling into the couch, reading the same page of the same book you’ve had on the coffee table for months.

Joel knocks on your door at 11am the next morning. He’s alone again, toolbox in hand, letting you know that he’s given Ellie to Maria and Tommy for the day, something about teaching her to ride horses. You lead him through the house and out back, leaving him to set himself up for the day.

You make two cups of coffee, remembering he likes his black. You add a splash of milk to yours. The milk is so fresh from the cows on the farm that you must scoop a layer of cream off the top. You would normally scoop it off and eat it straight from the spoon, but there’s too much today, so you scoop it into a small glass, taking the mugs to the back porch where Joel is measuring up the wood. You set his mug down on the porch railing, taking your own in your hands as you sit down on the floor, back against the wall just to the left of the back door.

The sun is shining again, warming your arms. You lean your head back and close your eyes, taking in slow, deep breaths.

“You’re not gonna fall asleep on me, are you?”

You open your eyes and look at him without moving your head, “Depends how exciting your conversation is going to be today.” You tease.

He smiles and turns his attention back to sawing a piece of wood to size, “What did you do before all this?”

You scoff a little, “I was about to start my second year at college, seems like a huge waste of fucking time now, the inheritance money wasted on half a degree.”

“Well, that money would still be pretty useless now anyway,” He shrugs, “What did you study?”

You have to hand it to him, he’s not wrong, “Drama,” You laugh, “Thought I was going to be a big star, already had that Oscars acceptance speech written up here.” You tap one of your temples.

“Who were you going to thank?”

“My parents mainly, although they were already both gone by the time I’d started studying, all the usuals, my agent, the academy, everyone who ever told me I couldn’t do it.”

He chuckles, “You definitely had it all figured out.”

A comfortable silence falls between you as you finish up your coffee. The wood of the decking is hard on your back and you shift uncomfortably, moaning a little in pain when you sit further to one side than the other, your lower back aching slightly, “You know you don’t have to sit out here with me if it’s uncomfortable right?”

“I know,” You respond simply, “It’s just nice to have company.”

“You don’t have other friends here?” He asks, hammering some nails into a piece of wood.

You shake your head, “I guess I did when we first came here, but Mark was always the more likeable of us, people gravitated towards him and I guess when you spend a year wallowing in your own self-pity, people get pretty tired of telling you the same things over and over again in the hopes you’ll snap out of it.”

He nods, “When I lost Sarah, I remember the overwhelming feeling of pointlessness,” He’s not looking at you as he’s speaking, focusing his attention on what you think is becoming a chair, “She’d been my whole life for so long that I just didn’t know what the point was without here, especially in this new world,” You hum in agreement, “And the fact that the healing is never linear, you know?” You hum again, “It’s been twenty years and I still have days where it’s overwhelming, but they become few and far between – I’ll never forget her, but remembering her gets easier, and I bet it will for you as well.”

You lean your head back against the siding of your house, “You sound just like my therapist,” You point out, “She keeps telling me that I need to find something new to keep living for, but how do I do that was he was the only family I ever really had?”

Joel stops for a moment, picking up his mug of coffee to drain it, “Family is a strange old thing,” He finally speaks, “Sure, Tommy is my brother, but Maria? Ellie? I found them; you’ve just got to find your new family.”

“You’re a very wise man, Joel Miller.”

“I think I’ve just lived a longer life, sweet pea.”

The rest of the day continues in much the same way. Snippets of conversation, moments of silence, at one point you get up to water the plants as the midday sun makes way for the dip in temperature for the early afternoon. Joel is a fast but competent worker and as the sun is beginning to set, you have four new chairs dotted around the decking.

“You wanna test them out?” He asked, dropping the last of his tools into the box.

You nod, walking the one that’s closest to you, before gingerly setting yourself down on it as if it might collapse under you, “Come on, I’m a professional, have some faith in me.” Joel murmurs as he watches you slowly lower yourself onto it.

He’s right, it doesn’t collapse. The way he’s built them mean there’s a slight slant to the backrest, meaning you can lean your head back and fully relax when you sit. You can’t deny that he’s done a fantastic job.

“These are great Joel, thank you,” You say, standing back up, “Sit down, I’ve got something to say thank you.”

You disappear into the kitchen as Joel lowers himself onto one of the chairs. He can’t deny he’s done a good job either, maybe he’ll have to make something similar for him and Ellie. He’s already trying to figure out where he might find the wood for his own project when you’re back on the decking with two plates in your hand.

“Is that pie?” He asks as you hand him a plate.

“It is indeed,” You confirm, sitting in the chair next to him with your own plate, “I made it yesterday in an attempt to avoid going to bed at 12pm, you’re lucky that there was cream on the milk too.” You smile, pointing a finger to the sliver of cream you’d divided onto each slice.

“I can’t remember the last time I had anything like this,” He muses, sliding his fork through the end of his slice before eating it, “Jesus Christ, that’s good.”

You chuckle, doing the same to your slice. You had to admit it was pretty good for a rudimentary baking job, the fruit was sweet and you’d managed to make the pastry pretty well too, “I actually can’t remember the last time I had anything like this either,” You take another bite, “I was thinking yesterday as I was making it that Mark would have been cross that I’d used our butter and flour ration to make pastry.”

“I bet once he tried it though he would have forgiven you,” Joel replies, “No-one can be mad for long when it tastes this good.”

You smile to yourself and spend the rest of the time it takes to eat in silence. You sit for a while before Joel’s hand comes into view, he gently takes the plate from your hand and stands, “I better go and get Ellie, she’s probably driving Tommy and Maria up the wall with questions,” He chuckles, “Let me wash these first though.”

You follow him through to the kitchen and cut another slice of pie whilst he rinses the dishes, “Take this for Ellie,” You implore as he’s stood in your kitchen with his toolbox about to leave, “I bet she’s never had something like this.”

He takes the plate gratefully in his other hand, “Listen, I don’t want to step over a line, but I was wonderin’ if you maybe wanted to join me for a drink sometime?”

Almost immediately there’s a sense of panic rising in your throat as you imagine what he’s asking for in your mind. If he’s asking you to The Tipsy Bison, you can already feel the eyes boring into you and the whispers from everyone else. If he’s asking you to go to his place for a drink does that mean he’s asking you on a date? You wring your hands together in front of you and you can tell he can sense your internal battle.

“Just as a friend,” He reassures, “I hope you don’t mind but Tommy told me you don’t really like goin’ anywhere anymore, and well, I just don’t think it’s right, for you to feel like you have to stay here all the time, I promise I won’t let anythin’ bad happen to you, sweet pea.”

You think back to the conversation with your therapist from last week. She’d ask you what you’d done to challenge yourself recently and you had nothing to offer her. She’s suggested that you really did need to try to start ‘reintegrating’ yourself back into the community, or there would come a time where you simply couldn’t. She’d challenged you to try going to the market on your own one day without Maria, or to go for a walk through the town on your own, just one thing before you met her next that would push you out of your comfort zone and make you realise that you could do it.

“Okay,” You agree, “But if something bad does happen, you’re taking the blame, alright?”

“If I had a free hand, I would cross my heart,” He smiles, “How about tomorrow night?”

Tomorrow night. Not quite enough time to convince yourself it was a bad idea and hide yourself away. The sooner you went, the sooner it would be over, so you nod in agreement. Joel arranges to drop by at six and pick you up and then he was gone, and your house yet again felt as empty as always. It was getting dark outside, an acceptable time to call it a night and crawl into bed.

PREV / NEXT

#pedro pascal #joel miller #the last of us #the last of us hbo #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #Joel Miller x you #Joel Miller x f!reader #GOY #Pedro Pascal #Joel Miller Pedro Pascal #The Last Of Us fic #The Last Of Us fanfic #the last of us fanfiction #Joel Miller fanfic #Joel Miller fanfiction

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joelslastofus · 10 months

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[SUMMARY: You are blind and Joel is assigned to take you somewhere that he is unaware is dangerous for you.]

SMUT

“It’s me!” He quickly grabbed your hand making you touch his face trying to calm you down.

“It’s me, see?” You realized it was Joel, your hand still on his face, you felt his breath close over you.

“You have to do us this favor” Marlene whispered to Joel as you waited in another room.

“We have a woman who is being asked for by another group, if we don’t bring her to them, it’s more problems for us here.” She explained leaning into him.

“Who are these people?” Joel asked with a raised brow.

“People that we can gain a lot from, you’ll see once you get there, whatever we get, we’ll split with you.” Joel hesitated for a moment but he knew he was low on many things and eventually gave in.

“There’s only one thing…”Marlene said with slight worry as she backed away.

“She’s blind, Joel”

“What?” He began to shake his head.

“I’m not being responsible for some blind woman,thats gonna hold me back the whole way, no I’m not doing it”

“Joel-“

“Find someone else” Joel turned away just as you opened the door and found yourself right before him.

”I can take very well care of myself, blind or not, I’ve dealt with this all my life. I’ve kept myself alive this long” Joel took a step back not expecting you to have heard him.

“She’s been out there before on her own. She’s a fighter” Marlene assured Joel as he looked at you without saying a word. Thinking about the supplies he needed he took a deep breath and walked past you clearly frustrated.

“Let’s go” he muttered as you hugged Marlene and grabbed your bag following the sound of Joel’s footsteps out the door.

“Marlene’s told me a lot about you” you walked beside him feeling your way around.

“Has she” sarcasm in his tone, you could tell he didn’t want to be there. Joel kept looking beside him making sure you watched your step, you seemed better at this than he thought.

“I’ve walked this way many times before, I could tell by where the cars are, thirty feet ahead there’s a car blocking the street with a tree trunk or something sticking out the window.” Joel looked straight ahead and sure enough you were right. He didn’t say anything but he was impressed.

The rest of the way you silently walked beside him continuing to feel your surroundings until he made a turn. You stopped in your tracks and he soon noticed you weren’t walking beside him any longer.

“What’s the hold up?” Joel turned to see you with a confused expression feeling the car beside you and the one in front of it. Your fingers sliding across the broken window with a look of fear.

“What’s the matter?” Joel furrowed his brows wondering what made you so afraid.

“This….this is not a good way to go”

“Why not? You come across those things around here before?” You slowly shook your head.

“Not that” Joel watched as you slowly continued to slide your fingers over the glass, a look in your eyes as if you were remembering something, something horrible.

“We shouldn’t go through here” you pulled your hand quickly away holding it close to yourself.

“Look, I promise you I’ve been through here plenty of times. It’s a quicker way to where we need to go” you began to shake your head quickly. He took a step toward you attempting to grab your hand making you quickly back away and lose your balance falling to the floor.

Before he could even help, you quickly got back up as he looked at you with a bit of concern.

“Please, let’s find another way” the desperation in your eyes made him agree.

“Fine”

The two of you walked silently another way, he could tell you were being more careful as you walked, you must’ve not been familiar with the area.

“You can hold on to me if you need to-“

“For what so I can hold you back, I’m fine” you stubbornly responded remembering what he had said earlier. Joel didn’t say a word but you knew he kept looking at you along the way making sure you could find your way without trouble.

At one point he quickly kicked a big rock out of your way making you stop in your tracks.

“What was that?”

“Nothing, I moved something for you” he responded as you slowly continued to walk.

“Thank you.”

Walking along an empty street the two of you remained silent before he stopped realizing what was in front of him.

“Why’d you stop?”

A load of cars on top of each other blocked the way before you. He had no idea how he was going to get through it with you.

“Alright, you’re gonna have to hold onto me-“

“Why?” You heard him sound like he climbed on top of something.

“What are you doing?” You followed the sound.

“There’s a bunch of cars blocking the sidewalk and street, if we get over these three we can get to the other side, come, take my hand” he reached over right in front of you.

“How the hell am I suppose to do this?”

“I’m gonna help you,”

You licked your lips nervously and reached up as he grabbed your hand and began to pull you up. He didn’t sound like he struggled much as he got you on top of the car, you sat still afraid to move as he stood up beside you.

“Come on, hold my hand while we get on top of the next car, it’s right next to this one” he could tell you were nervous by your expression, but you followed what he said. He led you slowly to the next car with one left after that one. Joel turned towards you still guiding you by your hand as he stepped onto the last car.

“Ok this one’s a little bit farther and higher”

“Is it?” You asked nervously.

“Move slowly-“ just as you did your foot slipped off the car causing you to slide in between the cars before Joel caught you.

“I got cha-“ he grunted as you dangled, he could see the panic in your eyes. With one hard pull Joel pulled you up on the top of the van landing himself on top of you. The both of you were out of breath as he stared down at you. For the first time your eyes looked into his, he almost felt as if you could see him.

“You alright?” He panted as you suddenly placed your hands on his face and began to slowly feel around it.

“What are you doing?” He asked with confusion.

“I don’t know what you look like” you whispered as you gently brushed your fingers over his facial hair, the thickness of his brows, your finger accidentally brushing over his bottom lip. You tried picturing what he looked like based on what you were feeling, Joel remained still allowing you to feel him. Your hands were soft, your touch almost making him relax for a moment until you came across a cut on the side of his face. It felt fresh as if it still slightly bled.

“Youre hurt” you spoke softly just as he caught himself getting distracted by your touch. He cleared his throat and quickly began to push himself up.

“It’s fine” he responded as you got up hearing him moving around.

“Alright I want you to move right here,” he took your hand guiding you to the edge of the top of the van.

“Sit down and don’t move” you did as he said before hearing him jump down.

“Alright I’m right in front of you, I’m gonna catch you-“

“Catch me? How high am I?” You asked worriedly, Joel looked around knowing you were pretty high but was confident he would get you.

“Trust me” the sincerity in his tone did ease you a bit. Joel instructed you to jump and with a slight scream you fell right into his arms. Getting you to your feet you took a deep breath and adjusted your clothing.

“Wow, nice catch” you chuckled.

The two of you continued your journey as you walked close to Joel as it began to rain heavily.

“Oh great” you sighed.

“I can’t wait to get to my brother”

“Your brother?” Joel looked at you strangely.

“Yeah, that’s where we are going. Marlene found where my brother Nick was staying a few day ago, didn’t she tell you?”

“No, she didn’t” Joel wondered why that wasn’t mentioned but you didn’t think anything of it. It was getting dark and Joel found an abandoned warehouse for you both to sleep in for the night.

“We should make it there early tomorrow, I think we’re close” he opened the door letting you inside.

“Hopefully” you waited for Joel as he made sure the area was secure before the two of you made yourselves comfortable. Staying in a small stock room, it was easier to keep track of things with it only having one exit. Joel settled down his belongings before turning to you as you felt around the room.

“Not bad” you turned to him catching him off guard by the sight of your white shirt drenched to the point that it was transparent. Your nipples clearly peaking through, Joel all wet himself cleared his throat uncomfortably trying to look away.

“Here” he quickly began to take out a jacket from his backpack.

“Put this on” he handed you his jacket as you made a confused expression.

“Thank you but I don’t need your jacket, I’m not cold” you laughed handing it back to him as he found himself taking a quick glance finding it harder to look away.

“It’s cold in here” he handed you back the jacket as you raised a brow.

“No it’s not-“

“Just put the damn thing on!” He suddenly yelled taking you by surprise. Not saying a word you put on the jacket before sitting on the floor. Joel took a deep breath brushing his hands over his face not explaining why he acted the way he did.

Trying to fight the thoughts he had he took a deep breath.

“Are you sure we’re safe in here?” You asked distracting Joel before hearing a loud click.

“No one’s getting in here, let’s get some sleep” he locked the door and placed something in front so no one could come in and sat on the floor right beside it.

“Close your eyes, youre gonna need the rest come morning” you began to blink heavily leaning your head sideways against the wall as you fell asleep, Joel watching you silently.

A part of him feeling guilty for even having looked, for wanting to look more. It wasn’t right, you were unaware, you were blind for Gods sake. Before he knew it his eyes began to close and quickly you both fell asleep.

The next morning you both continued your journey getting to your destination. Joel was instructed what the entrance would look like so he would know where to go and did as told knocking four times in a certain rhythm so they would know who it is. A man opened the door instantly smirking as he saw you beside Joel. Joel looked at him strangely before he called out to someone behind him.

“Glad you could make it” another man showed up at the door with a bag of supplies he handed to Joel.

“We’re looking for her brother Nick”

“Yes, Nick” the man smiled in a way that made Joel feel uneasy.

“He’s back there, you can come right in” the man stepped aside as the both of you stepped forward until Joel was suddenly blocked.

“Hey-“

“Only the lady can come in, you’ve got what you came for”

“Joel?” You turned around just as you felt an arm wrap around your waist and pull you back.

“Don’t worry, she’ll be taken care of” a new voice made you gasp, you knew that voice. Joel could see the terror in your eyes as the man holding you pulled you in tighter.

“It’s you” you shook your head in shock.

“Who the hell are you?” Joel stepped towards the man at the door as he continued blocking the entrance.

“Marlene already told you what this was, you did your part, now you have what you want, stay out of our business-“

“Let go of me!” You screamed trying to break free from the man.

“This has nothing to do with you, you don’t even know this woman so what do you care, walk away” the man warned Joel who stood silent. Not saying a word he took a step back making the man let his guard down before rushing towards him and landing him on the ground. Before the man could could get up Joel grabbed his knife and sliced the mans throat.

“Oh you son of a bitch!” The man holding you pushed you to the floor making you scream not knowing what was going on around you. Backing away on the floor not knowing where the hell you were going all you could hear was a commotion around you. Grunting as Joel and the man began to fight, you panicked feeling helpless before hearing a loud yelp escape from one of them before everything went silent.

Shaking in confusion, afraid to move you waited for a moment before feeling a hand grab your arm. You screamed backing away before you were grabbed again.

“It’s me! It’s me” Joel’s voice made you breathe a sigh of relief. He pulled you up and quickly walked out looking behind making sure no one else was coming around.

“Let’s go.”

Finding your way back to the warehouse, Joel held your hand the whole way. Opening the door he let you in and rushed to the back. Standing at the end of the room you could hear Joel locking everything up and moving around.

“Do you think more of them will come and find us?”

“They won’t find us here” he assured you as you thought about Marlene.

“I can’t believe she did this” you whispered,

“I trusted her.”

“You shouldn’t trust anyone, you can’t” Joel quickly responded as he began to set up somewhere for you to sleep on for the night.

“But I’m trusting you” you responded making him stop in his tracks. Joel didn’t like getting close with anyone, he always made that a rule for himself but for some reason it was hard to follow this rule with you.

“Here, sit down, let me give you some food” Joel changed the conversation as you did as he asked. He handed you half a sandwich and sat beside you to eat.

“That area that you didn’t want to first walk through, did that have anything to do with those men?” Joel suddenly asked making you put your food down and slowly nod.

“Mhm” he looked over at you and noticed you became anxious.

“Who are they?” His expression was serious watching as you wrapped up the rest of your food.

“They were…they were bad people” you responded hesitantly.

“Let’s just say….they took advantage that I couldn’t see anything, they took advantage that I couldn’t do much for myself until one day I just found some way to escape. I thought I got lucky and found Marianne, I told her about my brother and she promised to find him and here we are” you sighed.

“That’s why I say I trust you-“ you suddenly reached before you knowing he was close, your hand caressing his face feeling over what you already knew of him. He didn’t move allowing you to touch him with the tips of your fingers. Closing his eyes for a moment he relaxed to your touch.

“You haven’t used my blindness against me” you smiled as you put your hand down.

“You’re a good man, Joel” you began to get comfortable and lay down. He watched as you closed your eyes and soon had fell to sleep.

A few hours later it was dark in the room and quiet, you both peacefully slept beside each other until you began to toss and turn. Joel began to hear you moan in your sleep making him sit up and grab a flash light. Sitting it on the floor beside him he turned to you.

“Hey-“ Joel tried to shake you as you shook your head whimpering in your sleep.

“No…no…” you moaned in your sleep as he attempted to shake you against.

“No…no!” You suddenly screamed opening your eyes pushing against Joel’s chest.

“It’s me!” He quickly grabbed your hand making you touch his face trying to calm you down.

“It’s me, see?” You realized it was Joel, your hand still on his face, you felt his breath close over you.

“Joel?” You panted as he leaned in closer. Your hand shakingly feeling his face, slowly running your hand through his hair. A look of relief in your eyes as you touched him. He didn’t say another word, gently placing his hand on yours guiding it to his lips.

“Joel” you whispered feeling him move closer to you. You knew his face was right above yours, just as he leaned in and placed his lips against yours. He kissed you slowly as your arms wrapped around him, his hand sliding down your waist as a slight moan escaped your lips. Reaching below you unexpectedly began to unbutton his pants quickly as his kisses grew more intense. Before you knew it you both were practically naked, his body on top of yours. The feel of his bare skin against you exciting you.

“You still trust me?” He whispered against your ear in a husky voice.

“Yes” you panted feeling him against your entrance. He brushed his lips over yours then to your neck feeling you pull him against you.

“Please..” you whispered. He kissed you and with one thrust you gasped. Running your fingers through his hair you held him close, his lips pressed against your neck, each thrust he pushed in a little deeper. He loved how much you used your hands to feel him, it was as if you couldn’t get enough of him. He didn’t say much, he wasn’t a man of many words but he didn’t need to speak. His hand holding yours, intertwining fingers, the sound of his breathing roughly against you…it felt right. He began to move faster making you moan louder, sweat building up on his forehead as he thrusted harder. Sliding his arm under your back he lifted your body up against him as he got on his knees.

“Wait-“ you whimpered grabbing onto him tightly not sure what he was doing.

“I got you” he grunted as he grabbed your hips and began to slam your body down on his. You screamed clinging onto him as he moved you at a pace you couldn’t keep up with. Your legs wrapped around him he grunted as he watched your eyes roll back. He felt you tighten up around him, your nails digging into his shoulders.

“Joel-“ you screamed before he quickly lay you on your back, he pulled out and came on your thigh. You panted feeling him leaning over you, his hand by your head as he groaned jerking himself off.

“Shit” he whispered trying to catch his breath. You lay still for a moment wishing for just a moment you could see Joel. Reaching up to his face, he turned and softly kissed the palm of your hand. You could hear him stand up, moving around before feeling him wipe off your thigh with a cloth. He placed what felt like his jacket over you to cover you before laying beside you.

“What are we gonna do?” You suddenly whispered.

“I have a plan”

“Really?” You sounded relieved as he lay his arm over you pulling you in.

“Mhm, get some sleep” and you did, trusting Joel’s word you felt peace you hadn’t felt in so long wondering where this journey would take you.

#pedro pascal #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller fan fic #joel miller x reader #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us

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lavendertales · 1 year

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Hello! May I request a thing where after the 5th episode Joel gives Ellie a hug and meets up with Reader! After? Idk plenty of angst and hurt/comfort for both Ellie and Joel like first maybe Reader sees Ellie and Joel hugging then come back into a safe house. Then Joel starts to open up with Reader. Idk do whatever you think would be lovely thank you ❤️ I love your writing!

God this episode ruined me😭

MAJOR SPOILERS AHEAD IF YOU HAVEN'T WATCHED EPISODE 5!!!

We go down together || Joel Miller x gn!reader

summary: after the motel incident, you find that both Ellie and Joel are completely shaken up, so you tell them to take a break.

word count: 1.5k

warnings: angst, mentions/talk of death & loss. fluff sprinkled in there too.

gif: @tomshiddles

It all happened too fast; in the blink of an eye, you watched Joel and Ellie lose two good friends because of a freak accident. A freak show, really. It was no one's fault; but you knew that both would take the blame upon themselves, let guilt swallow them whole.

Even so, you planned to do anything possible to ease their pain and conscience alike.

The three of you left the room Henry and Sam lied dead in, carrying their bodies outside as you began their burial. It was silent; a silence that allowed for dark thought to swarm in and take you by storm. You didn't fight it though. You figured a moment or two of silence is more than welcome in this situation.

Ellie walked towards where Sam had been buried and placed his writing pad atop of it, with the words I'M SORRY written over it. You held your breath, resisting the urge to cry. You knew she took his death harder, having grown closer to him and treated him like a little brother.

She walked away, leaving you and Joel in complete silence to gaze at the graves. Joel remained his usual stoic self, though you could see on his face that he was pretty shaken up by the event, too. Both Henry and Sam's demise was tragic, but the speed with which it all happened and the deep love than ran between the two brothers who could not live without the other was beyond touching; hence why it made everything seem so much more shocking and painful.

"Which way is west?"

Ellie was asking Joel. You watched them closely, and when Joel pointed to his left, Ellie started walking in that direction, never once looking back. You timidly gazed over at Joel, and when your eyes met, you saw sadness in them. He may have been hardened by the harsh reality, but Joel still had care and love left in his heart. He was simply reluctant to show it.

"Go," you muttered to him. "Go after her."

He stared at you, as if not understanding what you were telling him. You placed your hand on his arm, gently, and Joel drew in a sharp breath to steady himself.

"I'll finish here," you told him.

He nodded, handing you the shovel and following Ellie. He may not have been good with words, but currently there was a kid around him that was in tremendous pain, and Joel surely knew how to handle that. It may have been a long time, but his parenting instincts were still buried within him.

You placed some stones around the graves to mark them, then carved an H and an S out of the soil. The more you stared at the I'M SORRY pad, the more you crumbled yourself. Henry and Sam were going to go to Wyoming with the three of you. They were free of Kathleen's revenge hunt. They could've started a whole new life there.

Now it was all gone.

You peeped in the distance and saw Ellie nodding, then, a few seconds later, headed into Joel's arms. And Joel actually hugged her: it was a genuine, real hug. Arms around her, head resting on hers and everything. You thought how long had it been since he last hugged someone. Was it his daughter, as she died in his arms and he clung onto her lifeless body?

The thought sent shivers down your spine. You didn't know that much about Joel or his past, but he did manage to tell you about his daughter one late night. Your heart broke for him, thinking how awful these last two decades must've been for him.

But now, with Ellie... you saw the way he looked after her. You saw a little spark in his eyes whenever she told bad jokes to make him laugh. You didn't ask him much of anything, to be honest. You chose to respect his privacy. After all, it's not like you were a couple or anything. You were just... there. A traveling companion, nothing more.

But you did care for him. And for Ellie. And that could get you in trouble eventually.

You heard Ellie's wail, and came to realize she was crying in Joel's arms. Unable to take it, you walked towards them and gently put your your hand over Joel's, which was cradling her head at his chest.

"How about we stay here for another day?" you proposed.

Ellie looked up, her eyes and cheeks reddened by the tears she let out. You looked mostly at her.

"Don't think that's a good idea," Joel said cautiously.

Then you looked at him. "We pick a different room, opposite of... that one. We're not in a rush, right? There's no one here. I think we can afford one day of mourning and just... being present. Hm? What do you think?"

Joel had to admit, it was a bit hard to snap out of this one. Normally he'd walk right away from a distressing death, but Henry's and Sam's was downright traumatizing, especially to Ellie. Maybe spending today in each other's company was just what you all needed.

"Would that be okay, Ellie?" you asked her.

Sniffling, Ellie nodded in agreement, breaking free from Joel's touch. He quickly clenched his fingers, flexing them as if trying to get rid of something, but you didn't mention that.

Maybe this was the first time he hugged someone in a very long time.

"How about you go pick a room and we'll be right there?" you asked Ellie again.

She started walking towards the motel, leaving you and Joel behind to gaze at her. She was a special kid, that much you could both agree upon. Only when you heard Joel's exhale did you turn to him, noticing the hardened and pained expression residing on his face.

"Thank you," he told you.

"For what?"

"For... bein' here. Means a lot. And... for taking care of Ellie. She could probably use someone more experienced to take care of her."

You made a funny face at him, like you couldn't believe what he just said.

"You remember what Henry told you, back in the tunnel?" you said. "'You may not be her father, but you were someone's'? You got all the right instincts and skills to do this, Joel."

He shook his head, deep in thought. "She's not my kid. And I sure as hell ain't her dad."

"I know. But sometimes caring for someone and protecting them runs deeper than blood."

Joel looked at you, analyzing your face as if he was about to say something else. He didn't; he merely looked at you, his face softening in the slightest.

"I see the way you look at her," you told him. "And I know you said she's just cargo—"

"She ain't so bad. Weird, but... not so bad."

You smiled faintly, and even Joel seemed to chuckle at his own words.

"The bad jokes remind me of Sarah," he said out of the blue.

You held still, almost holding your breath as well. It was rare to see Joel Miller talking openly about himself, if ever, so you didn't want to startle him in any way.

"She told bad jokes too?" you asked.

Joel chuckled, a more hearty sound this time. "Sometimes. Most of the time she was just sassy. And hella feisty. Like a forty year old in a kid's body."

You chuckled too, momentarily forgetting the troublesome morning you've had so far.

"They would've gotten along, I think," he continued mindlessly, staring off into the distance. "They would've been good friends."

There was nothing you could add to that. All you did was listen to him and breathe into the air, trying to calm your heart and your mind alike.

"We should go," you said after a little while.

Joel swung Henry's backpack around his shoulder when he noticed you standing still in spite of your words.

"Joel?"

He looked at you, waiting for a follow-up. He didn't expect to see you inch closer and wrap your arms around him, thus pulling him in for a hug. It was the second time that day that he felt another human's embrace after what felt like an eternity, and it was... good. It was warm. You were warm.

He found himself reciprocating, wrapping his own arms around your torso to keep you close. Neither of you was sure how long you stayed like that, but it was long enough to have Ellie peek from the motel room and see you two embracing in the field. She was going to rush you, ask you what was taking so long, but instead, she remained quiet and stared at you and Joel finally pulling away from each other and sharing an unsuspecting glance at the other.

Well. Unsuspecting for you two, blind fools. But even in the midst of all the pain and sorrow, Ellie saw. She knew. She could only hope that after today, maybe soon, you and Joel will start seeing it, too.

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cowgurrrl · 11 months

Text

Pine Point

Pairing: rockstar!joel miller x actress!reader

Author’s note: 😮‍💨 (ps fic is named after this song)

Summary: You and Joel deal with the aftermath of your accident [4.7k!!]

Warnings: hospital settings, a very quick mention of a miscarriage not experienced by the reader, questionable Hollywood motives once again, quick mention of Ellie’s foster home situation, kinda angsty actually, arguing (oops), language, not a super cohesive ending

Joel stays with you all night and into the morning. You're not sure if he got any rest while sitting in the uncomfortable chair next to your bed, but you know that he never let go of your hand. Every time you woke up from a bad dream or because a nurse was prodding at you, the callouses on his hands helped remind you that you were safe. He asked questions about your injuries and what recovery would look like for you. He listened, watched, and even recorded the nurse's voice (with her permission, of course) so he could reference it later. You wonder if he did the same thing when Sarah was born. You imagine him, eighteen years younger, furiously scribbling down notes on the best way to swaddle his newborn daughter. The image makes you smile, and when Joel asks what you're smiling about, you shake your head and mumble, "Nothing."

Carolina, being the goddess that she is, stops by your house to get you a clean change of clothes before stopping by her own house for Ryan. Joel helps you change into sweatpants and a flannel button-up from your house. He recognizes it but doesn't say anything or try to take it back; he actually smiles when he pulls it out of the bag. "Looks better on you," he mumbles as he kisses you and tugs the fabric over your shoulders, shaky fingers buttoning the shirt closed for you. The air seems lighter, and the hospital less stuffy in the morning light. Your body is still sore and aching as you sit on the edge of the hospital bed, but you're in better spirits. You're ready to go home and put this all behind you.

"Hey there, stranger," a gravelly voice says, and you turn to see Carolina wheeling Ryan into your room in a wheelchair. Your tear ducts betray your better mood, and you immediately burst into tears at the sight of him. He's bruised and swollen and stitched up, but he's alive. You step off the bed with Joel's help and bend to hug him, sobbing into his shoulder. You think Carolina and Joel exchange hugs and cheek kisses, too, but you can't see through bleary eyes. Ryan reaches up and smooths your hair down like he does and has done every single time he's ever held you while you cried. For some reason, the gesture makes you even more emotional. "I knew I looked bad, but I didn't think it'd be enough to make you cry." He says, and you laugh.

"Shut up," you sniffle as you step back to look at him, carefully wiping tears from your puffy face. Ryan grabs your hand and kisses the top of it. "Besides, I look like shit, too."

"Never." He smiles, and you take a deep breath. You look up at Carolina and swallow thickly. She looks exhausted, her hazel eyes more brown than anything under the hospital lights, and her lips are cracked from pulling at the skin all night. You stare at her, and she stares back, and something unspoken passes between you. Joel keeps you upright, and Ryan holds your hand in his as you hug her as tight as you can and fight more tears. She rubs your back and gently rocks you back and forth like a baby. You've always said Ryan and Carolina were your Mom and Dad friends because they are so parental and nurturing, but it feels especially true now.

"I'm so sorry." Your voice catches in your throat, and you feel her shake her head.

"You have nothing to be sorry for. You're not the one who ran the red light." She says.

"But, I should've been paying attention. I should've seen him coming. I should've,"

"You're both safe. You protected Ryan the best you could and brought him home to me. There is nothing more I could've asked of you, okay? "

"He could've died," you say. Carolina says your name quietly, like she's scolding you, and pulls your face out of her neck, her hands framing your face. Ryan squeezes your hand, and you pinch your thigh with your other hand to stop crying.

"This was an accident. You didn't get in the car thinking someone was gonna hit you, right?" She asks, and you shake your head. "But when you did get hit, the first thing you did was check on him. You did everything possible to make sure he was taken care of because you are a good fucking friend. Maybe one of the best. So, I don't want to hear you apologizing because I should be thanking you." She hugs you again, not hard enough to hurt but enough to make you feel like she's pressing all your broken pieces together again.

You could probably count on one hand the number of times she's hugged you like this. Once when she and Ryan got married, and you managed to keep her divorced parents from fighting the whole night with copious amounts of liquor and strategic pulls to the dance floor. Once when she had a miscarriage about a year before they had Elizabeth, and you flew home early from shooting in Maine to be with them. You weren't supposed to see them for another two months, and she broke down the second you stepped into their bedroom. And once, when your childhood dog died, and you couldn't make it home in time to say goodbye. Pieces of each of you that you never thought would ever come close to resembling what they used to have been meticulously pulled back together by each other. You can't go back and stop the accident from happening, but slowly, you can let yourself be put back together.

"I love you," you whisper, and she kisses your temple.

"I love you, too."

After a few more minutes of crying and hugging, Carolina and Ryan go home. You promise to come over and see them once you feel a little stronger, but they don't rush you. Joel hands you a tissue once they're down the hallway, and you smile before taking and wiping it under your eyes and nose.

"Feel better?" He asks, and you nod. You step into him and rest your head on his chest. It's partially so you can be close to him and partially because your body hurts too much to stay upright anymore.

"Thank you," you say. He kisses the top of your head and tucks your hair behind your ears so he can see you clearly.

"You don't have to thank me."

"I want to," you look up at him, and he smiles. Your phone buzzes on the side table, and you reach for it, but Joel stops you. His smile has dropped, and he suddenly looks worried. You furrow your brows and glance between him and your phone. "Joel, what's up?"

"Mel called this morning," he says, and your heart immediately sinks. "Um, she asked if you and Ryan would be ready to do reshoots in two weeks." You nod and bite the inside of your cheek before laughing. You feel crazy standing there, laughing so hard that the ache in your chest blossoms into sharp pain. Joel says your name softly, and you shake your head.

"I just had the scariest experience of my life, and the only thing she called to ask about was my fucking reshoot schedule?"

"I told her to wait."

"No, that's not how it works with her. She needs an answer immediately, or she doesn't get auditions, and if she doesn't get auditions, then I don't work, and she drops me," you scrub a hand down your face and take a deep breath. "I'll call her when I get home."

"What're you gonna say?"

"I'm gonna say yes."

"What?" He asks. "You just said this was the scariest experience you've ever had, and you wanna just go back to work?"

"I don't have a choice. The entire schedule gets thrown off if we don't go in and do whatever they need us to do. Thousands of people are relying on us so they can make money to feed their families. If I say no, production gets halted, it takes longer to get the movie to screens, and we lose money," you shrug. "And they'll put makeup on the bruises and stuff. It'll be like it never even happened. Just how they want it."

"You don't have to go through with this. I'm sure Mel would understand." He insists.

"You don't know Mel, then," you say. "I'll message her later. It's easier to just shut up and do it than fight about it."

"But-"

"It's fine, Joel. Please, just drop it." You blame your brain pulsing against your skull and the searing pain in your knees for snapping at him. It's not what you wanted to say, but you're so tired. And angry. And in pain. You pull away from him and sit back down on your hospital bed as a nurse comes in with your discharge paperwork. She's incredibly cheerful for ten in the morning. It almost hurts your head having to listen to her describe different types of infection and how to prevent it. Joel nods as she speaks, obviously taking in every piece of information he can and clutching the paperwork to his chest.

"Other than that, I think you guys are good to go. Do you have a way of getting home?" The nurse asks you.

"I'm takin' her back to my house," Joel answers, and you have to bite your tongue before you say something about him speaking on your behalf. The nurse leaves you with a wheelchair so you don't have to walk all the way to the car, and you look at Joel.

"I can take care of myself,"

"I know you can," he says as he begins gathering your things around the room. "I just wanna take care of you, too." He's being incredibly kind and helpful, you realize that, but that does nothing to stop your frustration with the whole situation.

Mel will always be Mel, this much you concluded years ago. But Joel butting into your professional life feels like a step too far. You know this business like the back of your hand. He doesn't. It's unfair for him to try to tell you how to deal with your agent when he doesn't know the repercussions. He doesn't understand just how many people are relying on you and Ryan to come back to set for a few reshoots. It would literally waste hundreds of thousands of dollars in studio money to push this back. Answering the nurse's question without consulting you first did nothing to make you feel better.

Joel seems to notice the silence filling the space between you at the same time as you because he turns and leans down so he can look you in the eye. All your things are stuffed into the huge bag Carolina fished from your closet, and the hospital room looks identical to when you arrived. Joel takes a deep breath and grinds his teeth as he thinks.

"Please, let me take care of you." He says quietly, his tone gentle and borderline begging. Nobody's taken care of you during a sickness or an injury since you left your parent's house. Especially after you started becoming more famous, you didn't want anyone to see you in that vulnerable state and exploit it. People like you are expected to suck it up, keep going and hope it'll go away in a week or two.

This is different. This is letting Joel assume responsibility for you for at least a few days, something you're sure you'll feel horrible about after the fact. This is staying at his house, eating his food, and sleeping in his bed because you're too wobbly to do those things alone. This is trusting him way more than you ever have. But he wants to. He told you he does. He took notes on how to change the bandages on your fucking stitches. He obviously cares. So, why does this feel so hard? You sigh and swallow your pride, and nod.

"Okay."

Joel's house is not what you expected it to look like. Most musicians you know stick to a very sleek, very boring black and white theme for their homes. White couch, black coffee table, white rug, black piano, white walls, black art. It's typical and almost a running joke between you and your friends each time you end up in a musician's house, but Joel's is different. His house looks lived in with scattered shoes by the door, backpacks slung over chairs, and colorful art on the walls. Some frames depict vast Texas landscapes or longhorns mean mugging the camera, while others are just abstract, bright paint splashes. There are smaller ones, too, with Ellie's loopy signature at the bottom. The couch is oversized and plush, with pillows and blankets nearby for movie nights. Report cards and family pictures hang on the fridge via silly magnets from different states and countries. You realize it feels like a real home after your first night.

You've gotten into a routine by the third day at Joel's house. Joel will wake up before you, sneak out of bed to make breakfast, and gather the pills you need to take to get through the day. Sometimes, he brings it to you, and other times, he helps you down the stairs and into the kitchen. You'll drink coffee and eat breakfast together as the sun slowly peeks over the Los Angeles skyscrapers. After you eat, he'll check your stitches and change the bandage to ensure they're healing correctly. Then, you'll just sit together and hold hands until one of the girls stirs awake, and you get to watch Joel be a dad.

Sarah is the next one up every morning, but especially this morning, walking down the stairs a full hour and a half before school starts and giving Joel the rundown of her schedule for the day as he makes her breakfast. She asks how you're feeling and then makes sure her dad gave you your medication. You really can take it yourself, but watching them work together to make sure you're alright is sweet. They tease each other for a while before Joel checks his watch and curses under his breath, making his way to the stairs after kissing your and Sarah's foreheads.

"I'm surprised he doesn't just yell up the stairs for her. That's what my dad used to do." You say as you sip what's left of your coffee, and Sarah shrugs.

"He doesn't yell very often. It scares Ellie. Besides, she wouldn't wake up even if he did." She says nonchalantly, and you immediately want to stuff the words back down your throat.

"I'm sorry."

"For what? You didn't know," she shrugs, and you shake your head. "In the wise words of Hank Miller," she says before assuming a slouched posture and putting a hand on your wrist. "You're too hard on yourself, darlin'." You laugh at her Texas accent but still can't shake the feeling that you keep getting this— your relationship with the girls— wrong.

"Well, your grandfather sounds like a very smart man."

"And he's right, y'know," she says, looking at you with those beautiful brown eyes. You wonder if she can see right through you like Joel can. "The whole time you've been here, you keep apologizing."

"I only apologized once this morning."

"Yeah, to me. How many times have you apologized to my dad?" She asks, raising her eyebrows, and you sigh. "It was a family decision to have you come stay with us. Three out of three Millers voted yes. I promise it's really okay."

"It's not that."

"Then, what is it?"

"I don't... I've never..." You struggle with the words. "I've never dated someone with kids, and I don't want to overstep or make you guys feel like I'm taking your dad away from you. I don't know how to do this, so I keep saying things and then just feeling stupid or like I messed up. Like I should've remembered the thing about Ellie's foster homes." You don't know why you're disclosing all the information to an eighteen-year-old, but she seems receptive.

"Ellie doesn't want any of us to treat her differently because of her past, and I'm pretty sure if you tried, she'd rip you a new one. The fact that you're even trying makes such a difference. My dad has dated... some really not great people he never even told about us. But not only do you know about us, you care about us enough to freak out about us, which is totally unnecessary, by the way," she says. "My dad, Ellie, and I are a team, and we have been for a really long time, so we were a little worried when he told us he was dating again. But he's so happy. Like annoyingly happy." You both laugh at that and feel the weight on your shoulders ease off.

"And Ellie and I kinda agreed that as long as you made my dad happy, we'd find a way to be happy for him, but you make it pretty easy. I like having you around. We both do."

"Yeah?" You ask, and she hums with a big smile on her face. You bump her shoulder with your own and smile too. "I like having you around, too."

"So, no more worrying about us, okay?"

"I can't guarantee anything, but thank you. I really appreciate you saying all that."

"You're welcome." She says as you wrap an arm around her shoulder and kiss her temple. Joel walks back into the kitchen with a knowing look but doesn't say anything, and you wonder how much he heard. A groggy Ellie, still in her pajamas, trails behind him and blindly reaches for the orange juice in the fridge.

"Oh, motherfucker," Ellie mutters as she sloshes around the last inch of orange juice. She holds up the mostly empty container and gives Joel a deadly serious look. "This is child abuse."

"That ain't child abuse," Joel says, already halfway to the garage. Ellie rolls her eyes before landing on you and softening.

"How're you feeling?" She asks, and you laugh.

"Better after watching you fuck with your dad."

"He's easy to fuck with," she says as the garage door opens again and Joel's footsteps get closer. "Watch this."

"Here you go," Joel says, handing Ellie a new container of orange juice. She furrows her eyebrows and looks at him.

"I didn't ask for this."

"What? Yes, you did."

"No, I didn't."

"Oh, my God, Dad's losing it." Sarah chimes in. Joel looks confused and like he's genuinely trying to remember if Ellie asked for it, and you can't stop the snort from leaving you.

"You little shit," Joel says, making Ellie laugh. Then, in the blink of an eye, Joel tickles Ellie, and her screeching laughter fills the kitchen. You and Sarah laugh, too, especially when the laughter turns into squeaks. Ellie tries to slip out of his grip, but he picks her up, hauls her over his shoulder, and makes for the backdoor.

"Joel Miller, do not throw your daughter in the pool!" You yell, and he groans before turning back around and dumping a still giggling Ellie on the couch.

"You win this round, kid," Joel points in her face before kissing her cheek. "Alright, we're gonna have to leave for school soon. Can you be ready in thirty minutes?"

"Yes, I'm not Sarah."

"Hey!" Sarah shouts as Ellie runs back up the stairs to get dressed, giggling the whole way to her room.

As you and Sarah talk about school, Joel puts eggs, bacon, and toast on a plastic plate for Ellie to eat in the car, forever worried about her missing meals. He takes a little longer than he needs to so he can watch how you two interact, his eyes twinkling in the sunshine. You and Sarah have been friends from the jump, but you have to admit that there's something a little more sacred about her letting you into her space. You and Sarah do your best to ignore his puppy dog eyes, but when Ellie comes downstairs with her backpack slung over her shoulder, she makes a face.

"Why do you look like that?" She asks, making Joel quickly snap out of it.

"Why do you look like that?"

"That's so funny. Did you come up with that yourself?" She rolls her eyes. Joel does a squeaky, high-pitched voice to mock her as he grabs his keys from the counter. He walks over and pecks your lips before walking to the front door.

"Alright, Miller bus is leavin'! Let's roll out!" He yells. The girls bid you a quick goodbye before chasing after him, leaving you completely alone in the house.

After putting your dirty dishes away, you venture through the house now that you feel a little stronger. You start at the fridge, looking through all the little pictures and magnets deemed worthy of being seen daily. You decide that your favorite is the one of Joel, Tommy, and the girls at the Grand Canyon. It looks like it was taken a few years ago based on the babyish plumpness of Ellie's face and the braces on Sarah's teeth as she smiles. Joel is squinting in the sun, but he's so completely in his element in the desert with his family, hands on the girls' shoulders. It's pinned to the fridge with a Washington, D.C. magnet depicting the Lincoln Memorial.

As you glide through the house, you keep finding new favorites. Many other celebrities you've met either don't hang up their family photos because they run the risk of ruining the aesthetic of their home or because they don't want people to see them. Joel, however, has massive frames holding multiple pictures of his family throughout the years. A picture of a much younger Joel with a baby strapped to his chest sets you back on your heels because of just how little he looks. He can't be older than twenty-three as he poses, one hand on baby Sarah's back and the other holding a diaper bag. You watch them grow alongside each other as you move down the wall.

You see pictures from an elementary school career day where Joel and Sarah pose with different tools. Pictures of Tommy, Joel, and Sarah lined up for what looks like a Fourth of July parade when Sarah was a toddler, her chubby hands latched to her dad's as she sat on his shoulders. Then, suddenly and without warning, a round little face framed with wavy brown hair enters the pictures, but it feels like she was always meant to be there. There's a framed photo strip of the three of them making goofy faces at the camera and pretending their dad isn't cool as he kisses their cheeks and rests his head on Ellie's shoulder. You feel almost emotional looking at the worn photos and seeing their love for each other transcend a camera lens. Though, a buzzing in your pocket stops you from thinking any more about it, and you roll your eyes as you read a text from Melanie.

Heard what happened. I'm so sorry :( I got all those pictures from the crash taken down 👍 Still good for reshoots in two weeks?

You sigh and type out a response as the front door opens and Joel walks back in.

"What're you doin'? I thought you'd be in bed." He says, and you shake your head.

"I wanted to snoop, and I'm responding to Melanie about scheduling."

"Oh, good. When are you gonna move reshoots to?" He asks as he walks over, his keys still jingling in his hands from dropping off the girls.

"I'm not moving them."

"What? I thought you were gonna try and change it." He says as you press send on your message confirming the dates and look up at him, confused.

"I never said that."

"We talked about it at the hospital."

"Yeah, but I never said I'd change the time just because you didn't agree." You say, and he scoffs. You tuck your phone away and cross your arms over your chest while he searches your face like he's waiting for the punchline to a joke he's never heard. When it doesn't come, he shakes his head.

"Wow." He breathes, and you furrow your brows.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Something."

"I just can't believe you didn't even try to fight her on it." He says in a frustrated tone, and you give him three beats of silence to rethink what he just said.

"Melanie can be a bitch, but she's also responsible for my career. If I fuck her over, I fuck myself over." You say when he doesn't backtrack.

"Is that what she told you?"

"Joel," you warn, but he doesn't stop.

"If you keep goin' like this, it's gonna kill you. Do you realize that?" He asks incredulously, and you throw your arms up.

"We are in entirely different worlds when it comes to our careers, so can you please stop telling me how to run mine? I don't get on you this much about your job."

"Because I don't work myself to the bone like you do."

"You're right. You don't," you snap, and he takes a deep breath. You're not quite sure where to go from here. You don't know if this counts as a fight, but you know you feel bad. "I already confirmed. I can't change it now." You say softer than the harshness that took over your voice moments ago.

"Okay," he nods. "Then, 'm comin' to set with you because we both know that if somethin' goes wrong, Mel isn't gonna do shit to help you." He says, all of his frustration pointed at your manager now, and you want to argue that what he said isn't true but can't find the words. You think it's because, deep down, you know he's right, but you won't say it. Not now. So, instead, you just nod and unclench your jaw.

"Fine." You say as you pull out your phone to add an addendum to your previous confirmation. Joel walks into the kitchen and puts his keys on the counter before leaning against it, arms crossed over his chest. Once you're done typing, you look up and stare at him, watching the gears in his head shift.

"I really thought the car accident would've made you wanna slow down or, at least, take the time to recover. Make you see there's more to life than just work." He scoffs, and you bite your tongue so hard you taste blood. You move from your place by the photos and reach the bottom of the stairs, fighting tears, before you turn to him. He hasn't moved, but he's watching you.

"I hope you know that was a really fucking shitty thing to say to me. I would never take something like this and spin it against you because I care about you."

"I do care about you."

"Then, let me do my fucking job and stay out of my way." You walk up the stairs with a little stomp in your step. It feels very juvenile and petulant, but you're pissed and embarrassed. Who is he to dictate what you do and when? It's none of his fucking business how you run your own career. Who is he to make you feel bad for working? To fight with you about something that doesn't concern him?

Still, even as these angry thoughts spiral in your mind, you cry the second you close the bedroom door behind you. The physical pain, nightmares, arguments, and guilt eat you from the inside out. And as you sit in that big house overflowing with love so real you can feel it in the floorboards and the man who showed up at the hospital for you downstairs, you feel completely and utterly alone for the first time since you signed your name on that stupid contract.

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