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oldsoul007 · 2 months ago

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wicked game

older!joel miller x younger!reader

summary: A magnetic, off-limits fling between you and your rugged, older neighbor Joel turns into something deeper as you both struggle with unspoken feelings, stolen moments, and the weight of reality.

a/n: 20 year age gap, wholesome, fluff, suggestive scenes

joel miller masterlist

I stepped out of the house into the crisp morning air, my purse slung over my shoulder and a mental checklist of errands already playing on repeat in my head. The sun was still low enough to cast a soft, golden light over the neighborhood, making everything feel calm and picturesque. I was halfway down my front steps when a familiar melody stopped me in my tracks.

“The world was on fire, and no one could save me but you…”

I froze, my fingers tightening on the strap of my bag. Wicked Game. That song always hit me in the chest, like a gentle nudge from the past, stirring emotions I didn’t even know I was still carrying. But it wasn’t just the music that caught my attention. Across the street, someone was working on a car, and it was hard not to notice him.

He had his back to me, bent over the open hood, his hands moving with practiced ease. He wore a faded flannel with the sleeves rolled up, revealing forearms that were strong and dusted with just the right amount of hair. His salt-and-pepper hair looked perfectly unkempt, like it belonged to someone who didn’t care too much but somehow always pulled off the look.

I told myself not to stare. I really did. But the way the golden light caught the broad lines of his shoulders, the subtle flex of his muscles as he worked… it was impossible to look away.

The song drifted through the air like it was soundtracking the whole moment, making it feel too cinematic to be real. I shifted awkwardly, my steps faltering. Just then, as if he could sense my presence, he straightened, wiping his hands on a grease-smudged rag.

When he turned and his eyes met mine, my breath hitched. His gaze was dark and intense, cutting through the cool morning air like a warm breeze. He had a rugged, weathered face—handsome in the way only experience and age could make someone. His stubble was a little thicker than a five o’clock shadow, and his mouth curved into a crooked smile, like he knew exactly why I’d stopped.

“Morning,” he said, his voice deep and gravelly, sending a flutter through my chest.

“Morning,” I replied, my voice higher than I intended, betraying just how off guard I felt.

He nodded toward the car, his smile widening slightly. “Sorry about the noise,” he said, his tone casual, like we’d done this a hundred times before. “Didn’t mean to disturb you.”

“Oh, no, it’s fine,” I said quickly, hoping I didn’t sound too eager. “I like the song.”

He cocked his head slightly, like he was trying to gauge if I was just being polite or if I really meant it. “Chris Isaak, huh?” His smile deepened, a flicker of something playful crossing his face. “Not bad.”

“Yeah,” I said, forcing myself to sound normal even though my pulse was anything but. “Classic.”

He stepped closer, just enough that I could see the grease on his hands and the faint lines around his eyes that only made him more attractive. He held out a hand, grease and all. “I’m Joel,” he said, his voice warm and unhurried.

I hesitated for half a second before shaking his hand. His grip was firm, his skin rough, and somehow it felt more grounding than intimidating. “Y/n,” I said, trying not to notice the way my cheeks flushed under his gaze.

“Well, y/n,” he said, drawing back and tossing the rag onto the hood of the car, “nice to meet a neighbor who appreciates good music. I hope to see you around.”

I nodded, managing a small smile before turning away, though I could still feel his eyes on me as I walked down the sidewalk. The music faded into the background as I moved farther away, but the moment stayed with me, warm and lingering, like sunlight clinging to my skin.

As I reached the corner, I realized I hadn’t checked my list once. And suddenly, I wasn’t in such a rush to finish my errands after all.

It started out small, almost imperceptible. The first few times I saw Joel, it was nothing more than a casual glance—him working on his car, me watering my plants. He’d nod, give me a polite, “Morning,” or “Evenin’,” and I’d nod back, my stomach fluttering for no good reason.

At first, I chalked it up to curiosity. He was new to the neighborhood, and Joel wasn’t the kind of guy you didn’t notice. Broad-shouldered and quiet, with those deep brown eyes that always seemed to carry a weight he didn’t talk about, he exuded a ruggedness that felt out of place on our quiet little street.

But the more I saw him, the harder it became to ignore the way my eyes lingered. Whether he was fixing something in his garage, leaning over that damn car of his, or sitting on his porch with a beer in hand, I couldn’t help but watch him. And sometimes—more often than I expected—I’d catch him watching me too.

It wasn’t obvious, not at first. A glance held a second too long. A shift in his posture when I walked by. But over time, it became undeniable. The way his eyes would follow me when I stepped out to water the flowers, or the way I’d find excuses to linger outside just a little longer, hoping for a moment to cross paths with him.

One evening, as I was locking up my car, I felt his gaze on me. I turned, and sure enough, he was standing by his car, a rag in his hands, watching me. His expression wasn’t overtly flirty—if anything, it was unreadable—but the intensity of his gaze sent a shiver down my spine.

I gave him a small wave, trying to act casual, and he nodded, his lips twitching into the faintest hint of a smile.

After that, it felt like every time I stepped outside, he was there. Fixing something, tinkering with his car, or just mowing the lawn. I’d try not to stare, but it was a losing battle. And every time I caught him looking back, it felt like a silent conversation was happening between us, one neither of us dared to speak aloud.

It was subtle, this dance we were doing, but it was there—undeniable, electric. And it was only a matter of time before one of us made a move.

It was a Friday night when everything shifted. I was sitting on my front steps with a beer, the summer air warm and heavy, when I noticed Joel crossing the street toward me. He had a toolbox in one hand and a look of determination on his face.

“Your porch light’s out,” he said as he stopped in front of me, nodding toward the darkened bulb above my door. “Figured I’d come fix it before you trip over somethin’ out here.”

I blinked at him, momentarily caught off guard, then glanced at the light. “Oh, I didn’t even notice. But you don’t have to—”

“I want to,” he interrupted, his voice firm but kind. He set the toolbox down and looked at me, his lips curving into a small, easy smile. “Unless you’re gonna send me packin’.”

I shook my head, smiling back. “I wouldn’t dream of it. Want a drink while you play handyman?”

He chuckled, low and deep. “Sure, why not?”

Two cold beers were clutched in my hands, the bottles slick with condensation, and by the time I returned, he’d already swapped the old bulb for a new one. The soft glow illuminated his face as he turned to me, brushing his hands off on his jeans.

“All done,” he said, taking the bottle I offered. “You’re safe now.”

“Guess I owe you one,” I teased, sitting on the step.

“Nah,” he replied, settling next to me. “I like keepin’ busy.”

I didn’t know when it had started, this thing between us. It wasn’t outright flirting—not yet—but there was a magnetism to Joel that made it impossible not to feel drawn in. He was older, quieter, but there was something about the way he carried himself, steady and unshakable, that made me feel safe. And curious.

“So,” I started, swirling my beer, “you’ve been here, what, a few weeks now?”

“’Bout a month,” he replied, leaning back on the step with that relaxed, effortless posture that always seemed to belong to him.

“And I still don’t know much about you,” I said, giving him a small smile.

He glanced over at me, his eyes catching the soft glow of the porch light. “What d’you wanna know?”

I hesitated, not wanting to pry too much, but the words tumbled out before I could stop them. “I don’t know… why’d you move here? What’s your story?”

Joel’s lips quirked into a faint smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He took a sip of his beer, staring out at the darkened street before answering.

“Well, I’m divorced,” he said simply, his voice low and even, like he’d said it a hundred times before.

I blinked, caught off guard by how casually he said it. “Oh,” I said softly. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s fine,” he interrupted gently, turning to look at me. “Trust me, best decision of my life and it was a long time ago. Been on my own for… hell, must be close to fifteen years now.”

Fifteen years. I tried to imagine what that would feel like—building a life with someone only for it to fall apart, then starting over again. Joel didn’t seem bitter about it, though. Just… resolved.

“Do you have kids?” I asked, leaning forward slightly, unable to hide my curiosity.

His face softened at that, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Yeah. Two girls.”

“Really?” I asked, my eyebrows lifting.

He nodded, and for a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of pride in his expression. “Sarah’s the older one. She’s in med school. Ellie’s still in undergrad—astromony major. Both of ’em are smarter than I’ll ever be.”

The way he talked about them made my chest tighten, like he was letting me see a piece of himself he didn’t share often. There was so much warmth in his voice when he said their names, like they were the best parts of his life.

“You must be so proud,” I said softly.

“More than you could know,” he replied, his voice quiet.

I smiled, leaning back against the porch railing. “So, two daughters, huh? That explains a lot.”

Joel’s brow furrowed slightly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just… you have that dad energy,” I teased, grinning at him.

“Dad energy?” he repeated, raising an eyebrow.

“You know,” I said, gesturing vaguely. “The whole rugged, protective, slightly grumpy thing. It fits.”

He laughed at that, a low, rumbling sound that made my stomach flutter. “Grumpy, huh?”

I shrugged, my grin widening. “If the shoe fits.”

Joel shook his head, still chuckling as he took another sip of his beer. But there was something in his expression—something lighter, more open—that made me feel like I’d broken through a wall I hadn’t even known was there.

And as we sat there in the quiet of the night, our conversation drifting back to safer, lighter topics, I couldn’t help but wonder how someone like Joel, with all his layers and contradictions, had ended up here—just across the street from me.

And why I couldn’t stop thinking about him.

We talked for hours—about everything and nothing. He told me about his work, about his daughters, Sarah, and Ellie and the things he used to do before life got complicated. I told him about my job, my friends, and the reasons I’d moved here.

At some point, the conversation drifted into quieter territory. The night was still, the air thick with something unspoken. Joel leaned back against the railing, his arm brushing mine, and I felt my pulse quicken.

“You’re somethin’ else, you know that?” he said softly, his voice low and rough.

I turned to look at him, my heart thudding in my chest. His eyes were on mine, dark and intense, the space between us feeling smaller than it should have.

“Joel…” I started, but before I could finish, he leaned in.

It wasn’t rushed or tentative—it was deliberate. His lips met mine, firm and warm, and I forgot how to breathe. My glass slipped from my hand, forgotten, as I leaned into him, my fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt.

His hands found my waist, pulling me closer, and I let myself sink into the kiss, into him. He tasted like beer and something darker, something that made my head spin. When we finally broke apart, his forehead rested against mine, both of us breathing heavily.

“Y/n,” he murmured, his voice husky and raw, “tell me to stop if this ain’t what you want.”

I shook my head, my fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “I don’t want you to stop.”

That was all it took. He pulled me into his lap, his hands roaming up my back as our lips met again, hungrier this time. My mind was a blur of heat and sensation as his touch ignited something I hadn’t felt in a long time.

Somehow, we ended up inside my house, the door clicking shut behind us. I barely had time to take in my surroundings before his lips were on mine again, his hands pulling at my shirt as I fumbled with the buttons on his.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he muttered against my skin, his voice thick with want.

We stumbled into my bedroom, clothes disappearing in a flurry of hands and whispered words.

When we finally came together, it was everything—tender and passionate, slow and consuming. He held me like I was the only thing that mattered, his touch reverent but possessive.

Afterward, we lay tangled in my sheets, the room dark and quiet except for the sound of our breathing. His arm was draped over me, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on my skin.

“I shouldn’t have waited so long,” he murmured, his voice soft and low.

I smiled, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. "It was worth the wait."

And as I drifted off to sleep in his arms, I couldn't help but feel like something had shifted. Like maybe, just maybe, l'd found something-or someone-I wasn't ready to let go of.

What began as stolen moments quickly intensified. Some nights, I’d hear the rumble of his car pulling into the driveway and find myself slipping into something casual yet enticing. He’d knock softly on my door, and I’d let him in without a word, his hands finding my waist almost immediately.

Other times, Joel would invite me over under the pretense of needing help with something—though neither of us was fooled. We’d end up tangled together on his couch, my fingers threading through his hair as his lips traced the curve of my neck.

It was never more than the two of us sharing our time and bodies, but it worked. Joel was guarded, reluctant to open up about his past, and I respected that. I didn’t ask for more than he could give, content with the way he made me feel in the moment—desired, cherished, even if only temporarily.

And Joel? He couldn’t seem to stay away. There was something about him—the way he laughed, the way he didn’t push me to be more than I was ready to be. It felt easy, natural.

But as effortless as it seemed, there were nights when he lingered a little longer, his fingers brushing my skin softly as if memorizing me. And there were mornings when I woke to find him still there, his arm draped over my waist, his breathing steady in the early light.

We both knew it was a fling, but neither of us could deny the way it was starting to feel like something more.

After that first time, it became a rhythm. A pattern.

It was never planned, not really. Joel and I never talked about what we were doing or set expectations. But somehow, it kept happening.

A knock on my door late at night. A quiet, unspoken agreement in the way his eyes lingered on mine, the way his hand would find my waist as soon as the door closed behind him.

Sometimes it was me crossing the street, catching him in his garage working on that car of his. The way he'd straighten up, wiping his hands on a rag and giving me that slow, crooked smile-it made my chest tighten every time.

"You need somethin'?" he'd ask, his tone easy, casual, but his eyes told a different story.

"Always," I'd reply, tilting my head, my lips already curving into a smile.

It was always like that. Quiet. Unrushed. No promises.

It wasn't every night, but it was often enough that it started to feel like a routine.

The nights with Joel were magnetic, impossible to resist.

Sometimes it started slow, like a smoldering fire. He’d show up at my door, leaning against the frame, his dark eyes holding mine like he knew exactly what I was thinking. I’d step aside to let him in, the faint scent of leather and soap drifting past as he walked by. He wouldn’t say much—he never did—but the way he looked at me, the way his gaze lingered on my lips, said everything.

The door would barely click shut before his hands found my waist, pulling me to him with a quiet urgency. His lips would capture mine, firm and deliberate, his calloused hands sliding under the hem of my shirt, fingers rough against my skin.

He kissed like he didn’t know when he’d get the chance again, his lips devouring mine with a hunger that left me breathless. My back would hit the wall, and he’d pin me there, his body pressed against mine, warm and solid, making it impossible to think about anything but him.

Other times, it wasn’t so rushed.

I’d wander across the street under the cover of darkness, my heart pounding even though we’d done this so many times before. I’d find him in the garage, his hands deep in some repair, grease smudged across his arms. He’d glance up when I walked in, his expression softening into that crooked, lazy smile that made my stomach twist.

“You work too much,” I’d tease, leaning against the workbench as he wiped his hands on a rag.

Joel would smirk, tossing the rag aside before closing the distance between us. “And you think I should take a break?”

“Maybe,” I’d reply, my voice lighter than I felt.

And then his hands would slide around my waist, pulling me flush against him. He’d kiss me slow, like we had all the time in the world, his lips soft but insistent, teasing me until I was gripping the front of his shirt, pulling him closer.

When his hands roamed lower, gripping my thighs, he’d lift me effortlessly onto the workbench, stepping between my legs, his body fitting perfectly against mine. His kisses would grow deeper, more possessive, until I was arching into him, the tools and the world around us forgotten.

The nights he stayed over were different.

He’d let himself into my house, the quiet creak of the door waking me, and I’d turn to see him standing there, his hair messy from the ride, his flannel hanging loose over a plain shirt.

“You’re late,” I’d whisper, pretending to be annoyed, but the grin pulling at my lips gave me away.

Joel would shrug, his voice low and gravelly. “Had to finish somethin’. But I’m here now.”

And then he’d crawl into bed beside me, his hand trailing over my hip, pulling me close. His lips would skim the side of my neck, soft and deliberate, his breath warm against my skin. It always started gentle on those nights, his hands slow as they explored me, his touch careful, like he wanted to memorize every inch of me.

I’d lose myself in the way his mouth moved against mine, the way he murmured my name like it was a prayer. The room would fill with the sound of our breaths, the quiet creak of the bed as he pressed me into the mattress, his weight grounding me in the moment.

It wasn’t just the way he touched me or the way he made my body hum with anticipation—it was the way he made me feel seen. Like I wasn’t just someone he wanted for the night but someone he couldn't seem to stay away from, no matter how hard he tried.

And as much as I wanted to keep pretending it was nothing, that it was just two people finding comfort in each other, I couldn't deny the way he was starting to feel like more.

The morning light filtered through the curtains, soft and golden, as I stretched under the covers. Joel was already up, sitting on the edge of the bed with his boots half on, the laces dangling as he reached down to tie them.

I watched him quietly for a moment, taking in the way his shoulders hunched slightly, the way his hair was still a little messy from the night before. He must have felt my gaze because he turned, his eyes meeting mine, and his lips quirked into that crooked smile that never failed to disarm me.

“You’re up early,” he said, his voice low and rough from sleep.

“Could say the same about you,” I replied, my voice soft as I sat up, pulling the sheet around me.

Joel shook his head, finishing his boots before standing. “Got a lot to do today.”

I hated this part—the goodbye. Even though I knew he’d be back, it always felt like the space between us stretched further than it should.

Joel must have noticed the flicker of disappointment in my face because he crossed the room in just a few steps, his presence warm and solid as he stood in front of me.

“Hey,” he murmured, his hand brushing a strand of hair from my face. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” I asked, trying to keep my tone light, though my chest tightened.

He didn’t answer, not with words. Instead, he leaned down, his lips brushing mine in a kiss that was softer than I expected. It wasn’t rushed or desperate—it was deliberate, slow, like he wanted to make every second count.

Then, without a word, he shifted lower, his lips finding the curve of my jaw. He kissed a line down my neck, lingering there for a moment as his hands slid to my waist, holding me gently.

“Joel,” I whispered, my voice catching as he continued his path, his mouth pressing soft, warm kisses across my collarbone, then down my arm.

When he reached my wrist, he paused, turning my hand over to press a kiss to my palm, then to the tips of my fingers.

It wasn’t just physical—it felt like something more. Like he was trying to say something he couldn’t put into words.

When he finally straightened, his dark eyes met mine, and I felt like he could see straight through me. “I’ll see you later,” he said, his voice rough but steady.

I nodded, my throat tight as I watched him grab his jacket and head for the door. He paused in the doorway, glancing back at me one more time before he left, and I couldn’t help but smile.

Joel didn’t have to say goodbye like that—but he did. And it was those little things, those quiet moments that told me more than any words ever could.

My mom called me three times that morning to remind me about dinner, as if I’d forgotten the weekly ritual of overcooked chicken and her latest gossip updates. By the time I pulled into my parents’ driveway, the sun was setting, casting a soft orange glow over the neighborhood. I smoothed down my dress, grabbed the bottle of wine I’d brought, and headed inside.

“Y/n! You’re just in time,” my mom called from the kitchen, her voice bright and cheerful. The smell of rosemary and garlic wafted through the air.

“Hey, Mom,” I called back, setting the wine on the counter.

I could hear my dad laughing with someone in the dining room, his deep voice carrying through the house. A guest, maybe? Mom hadn’t mentioned anyone else joining us.

I walked into the dining room, my casual smile freezing on my face when I saw him.

Joel.

He was standing next to my dad, holding a beer, his flannel rolled up at the sleeves like always. He turned at the sound of my footsteps, and for a split second, I saw the same shock mirrored in his eyes before he quickly masked it.

“Y/n!” My dad grinned, clapping Joel on the shoulder. “This is Joel, my buddy from the hardware store. We got to talking the other day, and I figured I’d invite him over. Thought you two might’ve crossed paths in the neighborhood!”

Joel’s lips curved into a polite smile, but I could see the tension in his jaw. “Good to meet you, y/n,” he said, his voice perfectly even, his hand extended.

I stared at him for a second too long before snapping out of it and shaking his hand. His touch lingered for just a moment, his thumb brushing against mine in a way that made my stomach twist.

“Nice to meet you,” I managed, forcing a polite smile, my voice tighter than I intended.

“Joel just moved in a few weeks ago,” my dad continued, oblivious to the storm brewing between us. “Seems like a good guy. Figured we’d make him feel welcome.”

“Oh, he’s definitely that,” I said, my tone a little sharper than I meant. Joel raised an eyebrow at me, but he didn’t say a word.

Dinner was a blur of awkward silences and stolen glances. Joel was calm and collected, answering my parents’ questions with ease, like he hadn’t been in my bed less than 24 hours ago. I, on the other hand, felt like I was about to combust.

“Mom,” I said sharply, nearly choking on my wine. My face burned as I glanced at Joel, who was watching me with an infuriatingly calm expression.

“Oh, come on,” she said with a laugh, waving a hand. “I’m just joking! But seriously, sweetie, you’ve had…what? A handful of boyfriends?”

“More than a handful,” my dad chimed in with a chuckle. “You’d think we were running a speed-dating service out of the house at one point.”

I wanted the floor to swallow me whole. “Okay, that’s enough,” I said quickly, forcing a tight smile as I stared daggers at my parents. “We don’t need to go down memory lane right now.”

“Oh, lighten up, y/n,” my mom teased, clearly oblivious to the tension in the room.

I dared a glance at Joel, expecting him to look awkward or uncomfortable. Instead, he was hiding a smirk, his dark eyes glinting with amusement. I shot him a glare, silently daring him to say anything, but he just shrugged innocently.

Dinner couldn’t end fast enough.

When my mom asked me to grab dessert from the kitchen, I jumped at the excuse to escape. But as I reached for the pie on the counter, I heard footsteps behind me.

“Y/n.”

I turned to see Joel standing in the doorway, his expression somewhere between amused and exasperated.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I hissed, keeping my voice low.

“I could ask you the same thing,” he shot back, leaning against the doorframe like he had all the time in the world.

“This is my parents’ house, Joel. What are you doing here?”

“Your dad invited me,” he said simply, his dark eyes scanning my face. “Didn’t think it’d be a problem.”

“A problem?” I repeated, my voice rising slightly before I forced it back down. “You didn’t think to maybe mention that you’re best buddies with my dad?”

“Didn’t know it was your dad,” he said, his voice low and steady, though there was a flicker of something like amusement in his eyes. “Until I walked in and saw you.”

I stared at him, my cheeks burning. “So what, we just pretend we don’t know each other?”

“Seems like the best option,” he said, his lips twitching into the faintest smirk. “Unless you wanna tell your parents the whole story.”

I glared at him, hating how calm he was. “This isn’t funny, Joel.”

“Never said it was,” he said, stepping closer, his voice softening. “But you’re the one who’s gotta decide how to handle it.”

Before I could respond, my mom’s voice called out from the dining room. “Y/n! Everything okay in there?”

I swallowed hard, grabbing the pie and pushing past him. “This isn’t over,” I muttered under my breath.

“Looking forward to it,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing as I brushed past him.

As I walked back into the dining room, my face carefully neutral, I couldn’t help but glance over my shoulder. Joel followed a moment later, cool and composed, like nothing had happened.

But when our eyes met across the table, I knew this was only the beginning of a much more complicated mess.

Later, after we’d finished and everyone was saying their goodbyes, Joel and I stepped out into the warm night air together. My parents stood at the door, still chatting about something, so Joel and I started walking toward our cars, the silence between us heavy.

Once we were far enough away, Joel glanced at me, his voice low and teasing. “So… how many guys?”

I stopped in my tracks, my mouth dropping open. “Excuse me?”

He turned to face me, a lopsided grin on his face, the kind that made my stomach flip no matter how annoyed I was. “Your mom brought it up,” he said, shrugging like it wasn’t a big deal. “I’m just curious.”

I crossed my arms, glaring at him. “I am not answering that.”

“Why not?” His grin widened. “You embarrassed or something?”

“No,” I shot back, even though my face was practically on fire. “It’s just none of your business.”

Joel chuckled, stepping closer. “Fair enough. But if you’re not telling, then I guess it’s only fair you ask me.”

“Oh, really?” I said, raising an eyebrow. “Fine. How many women have you been with?”

He didn’t hesitate. “Two.”

I blinked. “Two?”

“Yeah,” he said casually, slipping his hands into his pockets.

I stared at him, completely baffled. “Two? That’s it?”

Joel’s brow furrowed slightly, as if he didn’t understand why I was so surprised. “Yeah. Why’s that so hard to believe?”

I laughed, the sound escaping before I could stop it. “Joel, have they seen you? You look like that, and you’re telling me only two women?”

He smirked, leaning slightly closer. “What can I say? I’ve always been a quality over quantity kinda guy.”

The way he said it, his voice low and laced with humor, sent a shiver down my spine. I quickly looked away, trying to collect myself.

“Well,” I muttered, still trying to process his answer. “I guess that makes you… selective.”

“You could say that,” he said, his smirk softening into something warmer, something that made my chest tighten.

I shook my head, refusing to let him get the upper hand in this conversation. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

He chuckled. “And you’re dodgin’ the question. But I’ll let it slide… for now.”

As we reached our cars, I could still feel the heat of his gaze on me, that teasing smile lingering on his lips. And as much as I hated to admit it, I knew I’d be thinking about this conversation long after he drove away.

The air was thick with the lingering heat of the day as I stepped onto my porch that night, a glass of wine in hand, hoping the cool breeze would clear my head. Running into Joel at my parents' house earlier had thrown me. I hadn't expected to see him there, standing in their kitchen like he belonged, casually sipping a beer while talking to my dad like they were old friends.

It had been almost too much-the way his eyes found mine across the room, the flicker of something unreadable passing over his face.

The way my mother had smiled, oblivious, as she chatted away, completely unaware of the tension humming between us.

I had barely spoken to him then, just a brief exchange, a nod, a polite smile. But it had been enough.

Now, as I sat in the quiet of my porch, the cicadas buzzing in the trees, I heard it-the unmistakable rumble of his truck pulling into his driveway.

I should've looked away, should've ignored the way my pulse jumped at the sound. But I didn't.

Instead, I watched as he stepped out, his movements slow, deliberate. He didn't go inside. He stood there for a second, hands on his hips, looking over at me like he was debating something.

Then, without hesitation, he crossed the street.

I didn't move, didn't say anything as he walked up the steps, stopping just in front of me. His eyes searched mine, and for a moment, neither of us spoke.

"You left fast earlier," he said, his voice low, rough.

I swallowed, gripping my glass a little tighter.

"Didn't expect to see you there."

"Yeah, well," he exhaled, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. "Didn't expect to see you either."

There was something else in his voice, something unspoken.

A question. A challenge.

I should've told him to go home. That whatever this thing between us was, it didn't need to spill over into the rest of my life. But I didn't.

Instead, I stood, stepping closer, letting the space between us disappear. His gaze dropped to my lips, and that was all it took.

Joel reached for me, his hands firm but careful as he pulled me to him, his lips crashing into mine like he'd been holding back all damn day.

I sighed against his mouth, my fingers gripping the front of his shirt, anchoring myself as his hands slid to my hips, pressing me flush against him.

The kiss was different tonight-deeper, more desperate, like the sight of me earlier had unraveled something in him. He groaned softly when I tugged at the hair at the nape of his neck, his hands gripping tighter as he walked me backward, until my back hit the wall beside the front door.

"Joel," I murmured against his lips, my voice barely there, but he didn't stop. Didn't pull away.

"Mm?" He hummed, his lips trailing down my jaw, my throat, his hands slipping under the hem of my shirt, fingers warm and rough against my skin.

I shivered, tilting my head to give him more, to let him take whatever he wanted, because God, I wanted this, wanted him.

"We should go inside," I whispered, barely recognizing my own voice.

Joel exhaled sharply, his forehead pressing against mine for the briefest second before he pulled back, grabbing my hand and leading me inside, the door clicking shut behind us.

The second we were alone, it was like we couldn't get close enough. Clothes were pushed aside, hands roaming, mouths meeting over and over like we were making up for the time lost earlier.

He lifted me effortlessly, carrying me through the dark toward my bedroom, his lips never leaving my skin. When he laid me down, his body pressing into mine, I knew this wouldn't be like the other nights.

Tonight, it felt different.

Tonight, it felt inevitable.

The room was quiet except for the steady hum of the ceiling fan and the sound of our breathing, still heavy from the way we’d just spent the last hour tangled together.

Joel lay beside me, one arm resting behind his head, his bare chest rising and falling in the dim light. I could feel the heat radiating off his skin, the scent of him—woodsmoke, leather, and something distinctly Joel—lingering in the sheets.

I turned onto my side, propping myself up on my elbow as I trailed my fingers along his arm. His eyes were closed, but I knew he wasn’t asleep.

“What’s on your mind?” I asked softly, watching as his brows furrowed just slightly.

Joel let out a slow breath before finally opening his eyes, staring up at the ceiling. “Nothin’,” he muttered.

I didn’t buy it. “You sure about that?”

For a long moment, he didn’t answer. Then, he shifted, rolling onto his side to face me. His dark eyes held something I couldn’t quite place, something heavier than usual.

He hesitated, then ran a hand over his face. “I’m too old for you, y/n.”

I blinked, caught off guard by the sudden confession. A slow smirk tugged at my lips. “That didn’t seem to stop you before.”

Joel exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “That was different.”

“Different how?” I challenged, pushing myself up slightly, looking down at him. “Because I don’t remember you thinking twice about it when you were kissing me against my front door.”

His jaw tightened, and I could see the conflict in his eyes, the way he was wrestling with something.

I softened, reaching out to trace a finger along the scar on his shoulder. “Joel,” I murmured, “what’s this really about?”

He let out a humorless chuckle, shifting onto his back again. “Your parents.”

That made me pause. “What about them?”

Joel sighed, rubbing a hand over his chest. “I sat in their kitchen, y/n. Drank a damn beer with your old man, listened to your mom talk about how she just wants you to be happy.” He shook his head. “Felt like I was lyin’ straight to their faces.”

I stared at him, my heart tightening. “You weren’t lying.”

“Ain’t that simple.”

“Yes, it is,” I argued, sitting up fully now, the sheets pooling around my waist. “You think they’d hate you if they knew?”

Joel didn’t answer right away, just looked at me, his gaze heavy, unreadable. “I think they’d wonder why a man like me is in their daughter’s bed.”

I swallowed hard, my throat tightening. “You think too much.”

Joel huffed, shaking his head. “And you don’t think enough.”

That stung, but I refused to back down. “You act like this is something I just fell into, like I didn’t make this choice. I know what I want, Joel.”

His eyes searched mine, like he was trying to figure out if he could believe that. If he could believe me.

After a long pause, he sighed, sitting up beside me. His hand reached out, fingertips grazing my knee before curling into a loose fist. “I don’t wanna be the reason you regret anything.”

I stared at him, my chest tightening at the way he said it—so serious, so damn certain that he was the problem. That he was something I’d one day wish I could undo.

I reached for his hand, lacing my fingers through his, squeezing tight. “If I regret anything, it’ll be not seeing where this goes.”

Joel let out a breath, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. His eyes softened just slightly, but there was still hesitation there, still that damn weight he always carried.

I shifted closer, leaning in until my lips brushed against his. “You gonna kiss me, or keep thinking yourself out of it?”

He sighed against my mouth, shaking his head, but then his hand was at my waist, pulling me into his lap, and all that hesitation melted away as he kissed me slow and deep—like he knew this was a bad idea but couldn’t stop himself.

And I had no plans to stop him, either.

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intoanotherworld23 · 6 months ago

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What We Both Wanted

Summary: Joel has had his eyes on you long before he even filed for divorce from his wife, and when the opportunity comes he isn’t holding back anymore

Warnings: explicit content, mature themes, smut, cheating themes, infidelity, sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, minor spanking, dominant Joel, married Joel, submissive reader, dirty talk

A/N: if anyone wishes to be added to my Pedro/or Joel tag list please let me know and I’ll be happy to add you. Heart, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated and supportive. Thanks! XOXO

Hall Of Hunks

Tag list for everything: @iam-laiya @rosie-posie08 @madzleigh01 @alwaysclassyeagle @mytbel0st @shanimallina87 @marvelstarker-mha98 @powellssugarbaby @lora21 @kmc1989

Tag list for Pedro Pascal: @pedrohoe04 @k-k0129 @livingdeadmaria @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @milly-louise @kittenlittle24 @trisaratops-mcgee @subconsciouscollapse @hooked-on-penapascal27 @red-red-rogue @fellinfromthetop @drewharrisonwriter @vickie5446 @millerfan

"That's it baby, that's a good girl." Soft praises echo in your ear as you slowly sink down onto Joel's erect length. "Are you feeling all of me?"

"Mhm." Unable to speak as you concentrated more on adjusting around his cock. Twisting your face in an adorable way he couldn't resist leaning forward and trailing sweet lingering kisses onto your heated cheek and temple.

"Aw can you speak for me baby? Can you do that for me?" Keeping his voice barely above a whisper like he didn't want anymore to hear him.

"Joel please." Whimpering as you started to grind your hips back and forth making him chuckle at your eagerness.

"You like fucking married men? That turn you on?" He taunted you but it only made your cheeks burn up realizing he technically was still married. Soon as he filed for divorce he wasn't going to waste any opportunity with you since the tension was becoming so much it was affecting both of you mentally. "I've been waiting to feel this creamy cunt around my cock for so long."

He loved the feeling of your skin on his how soft you felt. The way that your body molded so easily into his perfectly. Joel almost felt bad for you watching your face contort each time you slowly and carefully sank down onto him.

"You're so fucking tight." Large hands handling the fat flesh of your thighs his thumb stroking your skin soothingly. Feeling so warm and so incredible deep. "Just never been fucked right."

Nodding your head unable to form any words as your hands gripped onto the collar of his shirt. Beginning to tremble as you flew your legs to raise yourself. Joel guiding your hips the whole time while looking between your connected bodies.

"Take it easy sweetheart. Don't want you to hurt yourself." Taking notice of how aggressive you were bouncing on him now. Even as his hands slide to your ass to squeeze them in warning. He didn't want you to over exert yourself and the moment is lost forever.

"I can do it Joel." Pleading with him and he couldn't help but smirk at how badly you wanted this. "You're so big."

"Fuck." He grunts before pulling your body down on top of his fully along the leather couch. Gasping as he lifted his knees up and started to pound into your tight pussy with no mercy giving you exactly what you wanted.

His lips warm and desperate as they peppered kisses along your neck and shoulder. While his hands kept a firm grip on your ass to help him leverage his thrusts. Growling into your ear with such animosity it had a shiver running down your spine.

"Yeah you fuckin like this huh? Dirty little girl like being fucked hard?" Hissing into your ear and in just mere seconds you're rapidly nodding your head, tears glistening in your eyes at the intensity. "Use that mouth like a good girl and tell me?"

"Yes Joel fuck it feels so good." Was all the words he needed to hear before he flipped you over onto your back unexpectedly his cock never slipping out. Grabbing your legs placing them over his shoulders, as he got back into the same rhythm.

Drilling into your sweet spot as he leaned slightly forward hovering his face over yours. Joel oozed confidence in every thing that he did whether it was just in general or sexually. The man knew the right things to say, and when to say them. The man was a professional in the sex department.

"Joel I'm so close." Warning him as your body started to shake a fire ignited in your stomach. Head tossed back in ecstasy as you struggled to hold on anymore. Both of you were chasing that sweet release, and Joel was more focused on you.

"Let go baby I'm right here." Cooing into your ear like he was telling you a secret. His deep and seductive tone sent you over the edge.

"Oh god I'm right there." Crying out as your orgasm was already swiftly approaching still extremely sensitive from your previous release. Joel looking up at your remarkable expression unable to look anywhere else. Loving that he was the one in control feeling like he held all the power in your pleasure, and it made him feel like a god.

Your senses heightened and overwhelmed not knowing how much longer you were gonna be able to last. Joel could tell that you were fighting to keep going, and he knew what would help you reach the finish line.

"Fuck sweetheart look at me." He instructed to which you followed as he reached a hand between your legs finding your puffy clit. Rubbing rapid circles along the nub making you scream with pleasure your nails scratching along his back surely leaving marks.

Your ribcage rising and falling with each quick breath. Hands falling down to your side feeling loose and numb. Stomach trembling from the resounding orgasm you just experienced. Your battered cunt was so sore from being stretched and abused. Feeling his hands gently caressing your trembling thighs as he stayed still inside of you.

"Fucked that pretty good so well didn't I?" His crude language had your thighs twitch, and you loved it all the same. Joel already knew the answer to the question, but he loved the reactions you would give him just for saying certain words.

“Too bad my wife didn’t walk in and catch us.” He joked and you couldn’t help but slap his arm at the comment, even though the thought kind of turned you on. “Sorry soon to be ex wife.”

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal imagines #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller imagines

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sturniluvr · 5 months ago

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your camera roll dating Pedro Pascal

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honeyedmiller · 1 year ago

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Real Love, Baby | Joel Miller

pairing: husband!joel miller x wife!reader

rating: none

warnings: no outbreak, lots of fluff, and some good ol’ joel miller lovin’ and a few kisses. no use of y/n.

word count: 904

synopsis: joel has a bad day at work, but seeing you dancing in the kitchen makes it all better.

a/n: based on the song real love baby by father john misty

divider by @saradika-graphics

Joel deeply sighed as he parked his truck in the driveway. He closed his eyes for a few beats, pinching the bridge of his nose as his bad mood kept festering in his chest, daring to settle into his aching bones.

He had a terrible day at work. Though, terrible doesn’t even do the day justice. He knew you were going to ask about his day, which was routine now, but he truly didn’t want to talk about his day from hell.

He knew seeing you and Sarah would make it all better, though.

He groaned as he hopped out his truck, stretching his sore limbs before grabbing his toolbox and heading for the door.

When he opened it, the aroma of dinner flooded his senses and a song playing mid-level from the vinyl player wafted from the kitchen. He set his tools down by the front door, toeing off his work boots before making his way to the kitchen.

He paused when he saw you, totally enamored as you swayed your hips and sang along to the song.

“I’m in love, I’m alive, I belong to the stars in the sky,” You sing unashamedly, never noticing the watchful eye of your husband. You stir the pot of what seemed to be noodles a few times before checking on the sauce cooking next to it, humming to the song as you swayed your hips some more.

The horrible day Joel’s had rolls off of the weight of his chest and shoulders, dissipating into thin air as he leans on the wall, crossing his arms. A smile curls onto his lips, replacing the frown that’d seemed indefinite the whole day.

His heart bloomed with warmth as you twirled, eyes closed, before focusing on dinner again. You opened the oven to take out the Texas toast, and Joel quietly hummed to himself as he realized what you made for dinner.

“I want real love baby, oh don’t leave me waiting, I’ve got real love maybe, wait until you taste me,” You sang again, and he pushed himself off of the wall to make his way toward you, finally making his presence known.

His hands settled on your hips and you gasped, laughing as you set a hand over your rapidly beating heart.

“Scared me, baby.” You huff, smiling at the handsome man as you spun around in his grip.

“Don’t stop dancin’ n’ singin’ now just cus I’m here, honey.” He teases, pressing a kiss to your lips as he starts swaying you to the song. You fold your hands behind his neck, leaning into him with a grin on your lips.

“How much did you see and hear?” You quirk your brow, moving one hand down to rest over his strong heartbeat in his warm chest.

“Just about enough to fall in love with you even more, darlin’.” He winks, and you playfully roll your eyes.

“Such a sweet talker you are, Miller.”

“What can I say? I’m crazy for my wife.” He grins before pressing his lips to yours, longer this time, before humming against your lips.

“Where’s Sarah?” He asks, rubbing small circles into your hips with his thumbs.

“Doing homework upstairs.”

“Mm. Dinner smells delicious.” Joel says, jutting his chin toward the pots on the stove that sat alongside the sheet of Texas toast.

“Thanks baby. Sarah and I decided on chicken alfredo. Hope you don’t mind.” You say, lightly scratching the back of Joel’s neck with your fingertips.

“Not at all, baby.” He tosses you a saccharine smile, resting his forehead against yours.

Your heart fluttered in your chest, always cherishing these intimate moments with Joel. Your love for him only grew by the day, always telling yourself how lucky you are you found a man like him.

He was your best friend, your life partner, your soulmate. You didn’t believe in any of that stuff before you met him, and now, you’re two years married and you still feel like you’re in the honeymoon stage.

“How was your day, baby?” You ask, retracting your forehead from his in the slightest so you could kiss the tip of his nose.

A groan rumbles in his sturdy chest and his eyebrows pinch together.

“Rather not talk about it, darlin’. Wanna dance with you instead.” He separates himself from you, grabbing hold of your hands as they slip off his body. He sways you back and forth before twirling you into his chest so your back against his front, rocking you side to side before planting a kiss to your cheek.

He twirls you again, and he can’t help but melt at your laugh and the way you look right now. So carefree, so full of love, so beautiful.

He grins as he pulls you to his chest gently, dipping your body down in his arms. He holds you there as the song comes to an end, those beautiful brown eyes of his boring into yours. You can’t help the lovestruck look that crosses your face.

He’ll never get tired of seeing that look.

He leans down to kiss you once more. It lasts more than a few seconds as his free hand that isn’t holding your body up cups your cheek, calloused thumb gently swiping over your soft skin.

“Oh– jeez,” Sarah’s voice startles you both, pulling apart from each other with a huff of a laugh.

“Get a room, you two!”

tags: @party-hearses ; @ilovepedro ; @punkshort ; @joelsgreys ; @nostalxgic ; @tinygarbage ; @bastardmandennis ; @pamasaur ; @cool-iguana ; @pascalpvnk

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller one shot #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #joel miller fanfic #joel miller imagine #no outbreak!joel miller #husband! joel miller #pedro pascal imagines #joel miller imagines #joel miller fluff #joel miller x f!reader

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andy-15-07 · 4 months ago

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A Family Beyond War

Pairing: Marcus Acacius x female reader Word Count: 2616 Pedro Pascal Masterlist

The sun burned high in the sky over Rome, its rays reflecting off the golden armor of General Marcus Acacius as he stood on the training field. His two sons, Cassius and Tiberius, mirrored his stance, their youthful faces determined as they wielded wooden practice swords. Marcus’ wife, Y/N, watched from a shaded pergola nearby, her youngest daughter, Aurelia, seated beside her with a scroll of poetry in her lap. The warm air was filled with the clanging of swords and the occasional barked correction from Marcus.

Cassius, the eldest at 18, struck forward with precision, his blade aiming for Tiberius’ midsection. Tiberius, 17, blocked, his movements slightly more hesitant but determined nonetheless. Marcus stepped forward, his commanding presence evident as he corrected Tiberius’ stance.

“Keep your guard high, Tiberius,” Marcus instructed. “A single mistake in the field could cost you your life.”

“Yes, Father,” Tiberius replied, adjusting his posture under his father’s watchful gaze.

Aurelia looked up from her scroll, her brow furrowed. “Must they always fight? There is more to life than swords and shields.”

Y/N chuckled softly, brushing a strand of Aurelia’s dark hair back. “Your brothers wish to follow in your father’s footsteps. It is their way of honoring him.”

“But I do not wish to honor bloodshed,” Aurelia replied, her voice tinged with disapproval. “What glory is there in taking a life?”

Before Y/N could respond, Marcus’ voice rang out. “Enough for today! Cassius, Tiberius, well done. Your skill improves daily.”

The boys beamed under their father’s praise, their faces flushed from exertion. As they approached, Marcus’ eyes softened as they fell upon Y/N and Aurelia. “And how are my ladies?” he asked, his tone gentle.

“Aurelia was just lamenting the barbarity of your craft,” Y/N teased, a playful smile on her lips.

Marcus knelt beside Aurelia, his hand resting on her shoulder. “You disapprove of our training, little one?”

Aurelia hesitated, then nodded. “It is violent and cruel. Surely there is a better way to resolve conflict.”

Marcus’ expression grew thoughtful. “Perhaps you are right, Aurelia. But until the world embraces peace, men like your brothers and I must be prepared to defend our home and our family.”

Aurelia sighed, her gaze falling to her scroll. “I wish the world could see the beauty in words instead of war.”

Later that evening, the family dressed in their finest attire and made their way to the Colosseum. The massive structure loomed ahead, its arches and columns illuminated by the setting sun. The roar of the crowd grew louder as they entered, the scent of sweat and anticipation thick in the air.

Y/N took her seat beside Marcus in the reserved section, their children flanking them. Aurelia sat stiffly, her discomfort evident as the first fight began. She flinched at the clash of swords and the cheers of the crowd as a gladiator fell to his knees.

“Barbaric,” Aurelia muttered under her breath.

Marcus glanced at her, his brow furrowing. “Aurelia, come with me.”

Surprised, she followed her father out of the stands and into the quieter corridors of the Colosseum. Marcus stopped in a shaded alcove, turning to face her. “Speak your mind, daughter.”

Aurelia took a deep breath, her hands trembling slightly. “I hate it, Father. The blood, the violence, the cheers for death. It’s monstrous. How can you support this?”

Marcus’ jaw tightened, and for a moment, he said nothing. Then, he knelt to her level, his eyes filled with a rare vulnerability. “I do not enjoy it, Aurelia. But it is a part of the world we live in. The Colosseum is not just a place of death; it is a reminder of Rome’s power, of the discipline and strength that built our empire.”

Aurelia’s eyes welled with tears. “Must strength always come at such a cost?”

“No,” Marcus admitted. “Strength can also be found in compassion, in wisdom, in the courage to speak against what you believe is wrong. You have that strength, Aurelia. Do not let the ugliness of this world dim your light.”

She threw her arms around his neck, her voice muffled against his shoulder. “I love you, Father. I just wish things could be different.”

Marcus held her tightly, his heart heavy with the weight of her words. “So do I, my little poet. So do I.”

The weeks that followed saw a shift in the family dynamics. Marcus encouraged Aurelia’s passion for poetry, often asking her to recite verses during family meals. Cassius and Tiberius, inspired by their sister’s bravery in confronting their father, began to view their training with a new perspective, seeking to emulate not just their father’s strength but also his wisdom and compassion.

One evening, as the family sat together in their garden, Aurelia stood and cleared her throat. “I have written something,” she announced, her cheeks pink with nervousness.

Marcus gestured for her to continue, pride evident in his eyes. “Let us hear it, Aurelia.”

She unfolded a parchment and began to read, her voice steady and filled with emotion. Her words painted a picture of a world where swords were beaten into plowshares, where the cries of battle were replaced by songs of peace. As she finished, the family sat in awed silence.

“Beautiful,” Y/N whispered, wiping a tear from her cheek.

Marcus rose and embraced his daughter. “You have a gift, Aurelia. Never stop sharing it.”

In that moment, the general and his poet found common ground, their love for each other bridging the divide between war and peace.

As the seasons passed, Aurelia’s poetry began to gain attention beyond their household. Word of her talent spread, and soon she was invited to recite her work at gatherings and festivals. Marcus and Y/N attended every event, their pride in their daughter evident to all who saw them.

One day, Aurelia returned home with a scroll in hand, her eyes alight with excitement. “Father, Mother, I have been invited to present my work at the Forum!”

Marcus smiled, his heart swelling with pride. “The Forum is a place of great importance. You will be speaking to some of Rome’s most influential minds. Are you ready for such an audience?”

Aurelia nodded confidently. “I am ready. My words will speak of peace and understanding. Perhaps they will inspire change.”

On the day of the event, the family arrived at the Forum, where a large crowd had gathered. Aurelia stood on the raised platform, her presence commanding despite her young age. She began to speak, her voice clear and passionate. Her words wove a tapestry of hope, challenging the audience to envision a Rome where wisdom and compassion reigned supreme.

As she concluded, the crowd erupted into applause. Marcus watched with a mixture of pride and awe as his daughter descended the platform and was surrounded by admirers. He saw in her the potential to shape a better future, one that transcended the violence and bloodshed that had defined his own life.

That evening, as the family gathered in their garden once more, Marcus raised a cup in a toast. “To Aurelia, whose words have the power to change the world. May her light guide us all.”

The family joined in the toast, their bond stronger than ever. In that moment, they were not just a family of warriors and poets but a beacon of hope for a better Rome.

As Aurelia’s influence grew, she began to attract the attention of Rome’s elite. Senators and scholars sought her counsel, and even the emperor himself invited her to speak at the palace. Marcus, though wary of the political implications, supported his daughter’s endeavors, knowing that her voice was a force for good.

Cassius and Tiberius, inspired by their sister’s courage, began to explore their own paths beyond the training field. Cassius developed an interest in engineering, designing structures that could benefit Rome’s citizens. Tiberius, meanwhile, turned his focus to diplomacy, using his father’s teachings to mediate disputes and foster alliances.

One evening, as the family dined together, Tiberius spoke up. “Father, I have been invited to accompany a delegation to Gaul. They believe my skills as a mediator could be of use.”

Marcus regarded his son with a mixture of pride and concern. “Gaul is a land of uncertainty. Are you prepared for the challenges you may face?”

Tiberius nodded. “I am, Father. You have taught me well.”

Marcus placed a hand on his son’s shoulder. “Then go with my blessing. Make me proud.”

As the family’s influence continued to grow, they became a symbol of hope and unity in a fractured empire. Marcus, once known solely as a warrior, found his legacy evolving through the achievements of his children. Together, they forged a new path for Rome, one that balanced strength with compassion, and tradition with progress.

And through it all, Aurelia’s words remained a guiding light, reminding them of the power of hope, love, and understanding in a world often overshadowed by darkness.

As Aurelia’s influence spread, the delicate balance between her poetic pursuits and her family’s military legacy continued to shift. Her poetry, infused with visions of peace and a world beyond war, struck a chord with many in the elite circles of Rome. It wasn't long before high-ranking senators, philosophers, and even foreign dignitaries sought her counsel. Her words, once confined to the walls of their home, were now finding an audience in the halls of power.

Marcus, despite his initial hesitation, couldn't help but feel immense pride in his daughter’s growing stature. He had long been known as the great general, a man of iron and blood, his legacy tied to the battles he fought and the empire he helped to build. But as Aurelia’s influence grew, he realized that his legacy was evolving, shifting into something more than just strength and conquest.

Cassius and Tiberius, too, found their paths diverging from the training fields and the weight of their father’s expectations. Cassius, with his keen mind and inventive spirit, took an interest in engineering. Inspired by the growing need for infrastructure in Rome, he set about designing new aqueducts to carry water to the farthest reaches of the city, improving life for the common people.

Tiberius, always more thoughtful and diplomatic than his brothers, began to consider a future in statecraft. His natural ability to mediate disputes, honed in the small lessons his father had given him over the years, became a vital tool as he began traveling with the diplomatic corps. He was frequently tasked with negotiating with foreign dignitaries, ensuring that Rome’s alliances remained strong, even as the empire stretched its borders farther than ever before.

One day, while Marcus and Y/N enjoyed a quiet evening together, their conversation turned to their children’s futures. Y/N, ever the pragmatic one, voiced her concerns.

“Do you ever wonder, Marcus,” she began, her eyes filled with a mixture of hope and worry, “how our children will fare in the world? Our sons, particularly, are stepping into roles that will shape Rome’s future. I fear the weight of their legacy may be too much for them to bear.”

Marcus, who had always been a man of action rather than reflection, looked at his wife with a rare softness in his eyes. “I fear the same,” he admitted, his voice low. “But they are their own men now. I can only guide them, not live their lives for them.”

Y/N smiled, her hand finding his across the table. “And Aurelia? She is unlike any of us, and yet she is perhaps the most important of all.”

Marcus chuckled softly. “She has a power in her words that no sword can match. I believe she will do more for Rome than any general ever could.”

Weeks passed, and Aurelia’s name became a familiar one in the highest circles of Roman society. One evening, after a particularly well-received performance at the Senate House, Aurelia returned to the family home to find her brothers waiting for her.

“Well, well,” Cassius said with a teasing grin. “The poet returns from conquering the hearts of the Senate.”

Aurelia rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her smile. “They don’t know what to make of me, but they’re intrigued. It’s a step forward.”

Tiberius, his brow furrowed in thought, placed a hand on her shoulder. “You’ve done more than step forward, Aurelia. You’ve made them listen. Do you realize how many people are talking about you?”

“I don’t want them to talk about me,” Aurelia said, her voice soft but firm. “I want them to hear the message in my words.”

Cassius gave her an appraising look. “You’ve always been the brave one, haven’t you?”

“Bravery has nothing to do with it,” Aurelia replied, her eyes meeting his with quiet intensity. “It’s about doing what’s right, even when it’s difficult.”

Tiberius nodded. “I think you’re right. Maybe there’s something to your vision of a different Rome—a Rome that isn’t built on conquest, but on understanding and strength in other forms.”

Marcus, who had overheard the conversation from the doorway, stepped into the room with a proud smile. “And what would you know of that, Tiberius?” he asked, his voice warm yet teasing.

Tiberius met his father’s gaze with newfound confidence. “I know that Rome cannot grow only through the sword. There must be other ways—ways that preserve the essence of our strength while also allowing for compassion and diplomacy.”

Marcus nodded slowly, impressed by his son’s resolve. “You have learned much, Tiberius. Perhaps the time will come when your role in Rome will be as important as any general’s.”

Cassius chuckled. “Don’t get too comfortable, Father. We still need you in the field. No one can fill your boots just yet.”

Marcus laughed heartily, the sound filling the room with warmth. “Perhaps not, Cassius. But there may come a day when it is you who steps into them.”

One evening, when the family gathered for dinner, the conversation turned to an unexpected subject. A letter had arrived that morning from a foreign delegation in Gaul, requesting Tiberius’ presence for an important negotiation regarding Rome’s borders.

“Father,” Tiberius began, looking up from his plate, “I’ve been invited to represent Rome at the negotiations. It’s a significant step for me.”

Marcus studied his son for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Finally, he spoke. “It is a dangerous path, Tiberius. The politics of Gaul are volatile. But I trust you. If you believe you are ready, then go.”

Tiberius’ eyes shone with a mixture of pride and fear. “I will, Father. I will make you proud.”

Aurelia, always the most thoughtful of the family, placed a hand on his. “You don’t have to prove anything, Tiberius. Just do what you know is right.”

As the family shared a quiet moment of reflection, Aurelia felt the weight of the changes around her. Cassius, Tiberius, and even their father were finding their own paths—paths that had once seemed unimaginable in the shadow of their military heritage. They were forging a new Rome, one that blended the strength of warriors with the wisdom of poets, engineers, and diplomats.

In the days that followed, Tiberius prepared for his journey to Gaul, while Aurelia continued to write and speak of peace. Marcus, ever the watchful father, took pride in the direction his children were taking, knowing that the empire was in capable hands—hands that understood the power of strength and the importance of compassion.

And so, as the seasons changed and the world continued to turn, the Acacius family stood at the crossroads of tradition and progress. Together, they carried the legacy of Rome forward, not with swords and shields alone, but with wisdom, courage, and the power of words.

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4ever-feral · 5 months ago

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HES SO SLUTTY & IM ON MY KNEES YESS SIRR 😩🫦

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lazysoulwriter · 2 days ago

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for you, too. - pedro pascal.

requested! hope you like it, bubs! - requested are open.

It started with a sandwich.

A homemade sandwich, to be exact—thick slices of soft sourdough, roasted chicken, pickled onions, aioli, arugula—nothing fancy, just good. And it had been tucked into your Tupperware, set carefully beside a salad and a brownie you’d made the night before. You weren’t even that hungry, but it was comforting to have something you made yourself in the middle of a chaotic day on set.

Pedro had spotted it immediately.

“Wait,” he said, eyebrows raised like a cartoon character. “That smells amazing. Is that...real food?”

You blinked, halfway through chewing. “Um. Yeah. You want some?”

He nodded, no shame at all, already reaching across to pluck half your sandwich from its paper. “God, yes. I forgot to eat again. Craft service gave me... I don’t even know. Something beige and sad.”

And just like that, it became a thing.

A week later, you caught him eyeing your lunch again, his hands deep in his hoodie pockets, rocking on his heels like a guilty child.

You slid your extra half over without a word.

“I’m starting to think you’re doing this on purpose,” you teased, and he gave you one of those slow, tilted smiles. “Stealing a poor woman’s lunch.”

Pedro chuckled. “I would never steal. But if you offered...”

After that, you just started packing two.

Two containers. Two neatly folded napkins. Sometimes you’d write a little note on the inside of the lid—Don’t forget to drink water, or This one’s spicy, so watch it, drama king. And every time you handed it to him, Pedro would hug you. Long, warm hugs. The kind that stayed a second longer than necessary, his chin brushing the top of your head.

He never asked for them. But he always accepted them with that same boyish grin and a thank you that felt like it meant more than just food.

It got cozy between you.

He’d sometimes drop by your trailer just to hang out while you prepped for the day. He’d sit sideways on the little couch, eating his lunch while telling you the dumbest jokes or singing along to whatever was playing on your speaker. Once, he stole a spoonful of frosting from a bowl on your counter, sucked it off his finger, and said, “You’re going to marry someone someday, and they’re going to think they hit the jackpot. I just hope they like cake as much as I do.”

Your cheeks had burned. You told yourself it was just the oven heat.

One day, he hugged you tighter than usual. Held on, arms wrapped firmly around your waist, chin buried in your shoulder.

“Bad day?” you murmured.

He nodded without pulling away. “Your food is the best part of it.”

So you started baking more.

Cookies one week, lemon bars the next. And finally—on a Friday when you both had a light schedule and it felt like the weekend had snuck in early—you brought him a chocolate cake.

Rich, dense, layered, frosted with whipped ganache.

You handed it to him in a little white box, blushing before he’d even opened it. “It’s nothing special. Just... I know you like chocolate.”

Pedro opened it like a kid at Christmas. His eyes went wide. “You made this?”

You nodded. “From scratch.”

“God, you’re gonna ruin me.”

He didn’t wait. He grabbed a plastic fork from the counter and dug in, moaning dramatically at the first bite. “Oh my god. This is sex. No, this is better than sex.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes. “That’s a bold claim, Pascal.”

“I stand by it.” He took another huge bite, then looked at you with chocolate on the corner of his mouth and something softer in his eyes. “You always take such good care of me.”

You shrugged, suddenly shy. “Someone’s gotta.”

And then—before you could even fully process it—he leaned in and kissed you.

Soft.

Gentle.

Sweet in a way that made your heart tumble into your stomach. Like it wasn’t some grand moment or a long-awaited confession. It was just… normal. Like he’d been doing it all along, in a way. Like this was always where it had been heading.

You didn’t pull back. Neither did he.

When he did finally blink, still so close you could feel his breath, he smiled. “Sorry. I just... I really like cake.”

You let out a quiet laugh. “Pretty sure that wasn’t about the cake.”

He nudged his nose against yours. “Maybe not.”

You kissed him again—because it felt right, because it was easy. Because loving someone could start with a sandwich and bloom slowly, tenderly, into something warm and steady and real.

Later, when he was licking the last of the ganache from his fork, he looked at you with soft, half-lidded eyes.

“You know I’m gonna brag about you forever, right?”

“About my cooking?”

“About all of it. The food. The hugs. The cake. The fact that I get to kiss you now.”

You smiled, resting your head on his shoulder as he set the empty box down.

“Next time,” you murmured, “I’m making flan.”

He groaned dramatically. “Marry me.”

You just laughed.

For now—two lunches, one kiss, and a whole lot of chocolate were enough.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfics #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fics #pedro pascal one shot #pedro pascal imagines #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal fanfiction #pp #fics

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homiesexual-or-homosexual · 10 months ago

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Mutt

Pairing: Jackson! Joel Miller x reader

Warnings/Genre: a horribly horribly long slow burn, excuse any typos, fluff, slight angst, offstandish reader, slightly overbearing new friend (not canon character), potentially cute dogs, jealous friend, said friend has a crush on Joel, Joel gets hurt on patrol, mentions of blood, reader gets a cut on her hand, slightly romantically tense situations, let me know if I missed anything!!

Work Count: 8k

A/n: I've been telling this story to myself as I fall asleep at night and have decided to write down what I've daydreamed up so far!! Wish me luck! I hope this is good. . . And it's so long. . I'm so sorry

--- --- ---

Maria and Tommy found you on a patrol near the river.

It was a cold December this year, and your ratty, thin clothes were making it hard to stay warm. The only way to stay warm was to keep moving. Maria wasn't going to take you in, deadset on letting you pass around the town once the K9 cleared you.

Tommy wasn't so set. He figured that Jackson had the room. You were only one more person. Jackson would always use more people for patrols and work around Jackson.

The couple bickered back and forth for a few moments and once decided, Tommy shucked his jacket around your shoulders and gave you a ride back to Jackson. Once there, they settled you in a house across from them, not directly across more diagonally. You showered and they brought you to the mess hall.

You sat with Tommy and Maria, as well as another man and his kid, and another lady who seemed to have implanted herself in the family. She talked a lot. But you could care less, scarfing down your very delicious food was more important. You could feel the eyes of the man and child on you the entire time you ate.

That night, you slept warmly with a full stomach.

You woke early the next morning, so early the sun was barely up. As you finished dressing in some clothes that Maria had found you, knocking was heard.

You followed the noise to your front door and opened it to see Maria. She mentioned that she had a job for you. You nodded and pulled on a warm, heavy jacket. She led you to the stables and past the horse stalls to a back corner.

There were a few kennels back here, ten at the most. There were dogs in every one.

Maria explained that these were dogs that had wandered into Jackson, or that had been picked up on patrols. They'd been dropped here as no one had the time to train feral dogs, and since you were new you'd been granted that job.

You thanked Maria, and she disappeared into the barn.

You took notes that the dogs had the bare minimum. Like just enough food to get by, a blanket per dog, and a bowl or two per kennel. You hmmpfed and noted that the dogs also had no real way to get outside if they needed, much less a designated area to go outside.

You got to work almost immediately. Introducing yourself to the dogs, filling food bowls from a bag stuffed into a corner and filling water bowls from a spicket on the wall at the end of the little hallway/room. You found a notebook and pencil, deciding to use it for information on the dogs, like scars and particular body characteristics. You found out, just by looking and feeling, that one of the dogs was pregnant. You weren't sure with how many.

You worked the rest of the day cleaning their kennels and fixing it up with your limited tools of whatever you found in the area.

Around the start of afternoon, there was a knock on the doorway of the room, and a cheery call of your name.

It was Debby, the lady who talks a lot from dinner yesterday night, "Hey! How you doing today? I didn't get to hear you talk a lot today? Oh.. You got put on mutt duty.." She trailed off at the end, giving disgruntled looks around the small room.

You nodded, standing up and wiping off your hands, "I'm settling in, slowly. Can I help you with something?"

"Oh well," She paused as she twirled a finger. "I was just on the way to lunch and heard you worked in here now. Just decided to stop by and see if you're hungry."

You thought for a few moments, noting your empty stomach as you'd accidentally skipped breakfast, "Sure. I'm at a good stopping point for right now."

"Great!" Debby grabbed your arm and skipped her way through the barn and into the open. "Have you met Joel yet?"

"Joel?" You asked, not picturing a face to the name.

"Joel Miller!" Debby was exasperated in her answer. "Tommy's brother! He sat with us at dinner last night with his kid."

His face was blurry in memory, but you kind of made the connection. You nodded at Debby's words.

"Joel is so great!" Debby started loudly. "He's so handsome and strong! And he's so kind and willing to do almost anything for anybody!! If only I could get him alone, even just for a few moments, but that kid of his is just glued to his side."

Her cheeriness died back as she mentioned Joel's kid, almost as if Debby has a resentment toward the 14-year-old. You couldn't make sense of her rambling. You'd spent so much time outside that you really didn't understand the way Debby felt towards Joel.

When you both entered the mess hall, you dished up. Debby's gasp pulled you from your focus and she gripped your jacket sleeve. You looked at her, brows scrunched in an irritated way.

"Joel's here!" She whispered at you, shaking you just a bit.

You turned fully to look in the direction your companion was looking in. You spotted Tommy and Maria first, and the presumed Joel and his kid sat across from them. They were engaging in something casual and eating slowly. And as if feeling eyes on them, Tommy turned first and the others followed in suit. Tommy waved you two over.

Debby practically skipped over, and you were much slower. Debby plopped right beside Maria, trying to get as close to Joel as he could. You sat beside Debby, careful to not evade any space.

"Hi Joel!" Debby greeted, too cheery for something casually quiet.

Joel only nodded in response, mouth full of food. His kid only glanced at Debby before back at her food.

"You settling in okay?" Maria asked, leaning forward around Debby.

You nodded, trying your best to not scarf down your food and match the pace of the others.

"You think this job is okay for you? Do you need anything?" Tommy asked, putting his spoon down to show full attentiveness.

"Umm," You swallowed your food. "Maybe a library and some blankets? And maybe a way to let the dogs go outside by themselves?" You were unsure if you were to grab anything extra for the dogs, or if you could modify that part of the barn.

Tommy nodded, "I can show you the library after this, and where we keep our extra clothes and blankets."

"Thank you," You almost started eating before Maria asked you a question.

"You fixing up that outside coral?" Maria asked.

You nodded, "Planning on it, so they don't make such a mess of inside."

"By yourself?" Maria asked again.

"Planning on it," You sense Maria's hesitation. "I was wondering where to get some wood and maybe some chicken wire, and maybe something to smooth the wood out so no one gets any splinters."

"Chicken wire?" Tommy asked, confused.

"So the dogs don't slip out under the fence," You pointed out.

Tommy nodded, "Well, uh my brother here is pretty well-versed in woodwork."

You looked at Joel, who sat across from Tommy. He looked back.

"Joel Miller," Joel reached a hand across the table to shake yours.

"Y/n," You told him, accepting his hand.

"Ellie," Joel's kid offered her hand once you pulled away from Joel. "You'll get the hang of eating slow eventually. I was like that too."

You nodded, settling back down into your chair.

Lunch went a lot slower than you were used to. But later than sooner, you were off to the library. Tommy led the way, informing you that you were welcome to take books home if needed, but to bring them back when you were done.

You nodded along to the information. And when Tommy left to go help Maria with something, you started wandering. You were looking for books on dog behavior and diet, hoping to find good ways to train the dogs under your care.

In just under two hours you found what you needed. You big goodbye to the library caretaker and was on your way back to the barn. You checked up on the dogs, cleaned up any mess they made, and got to reading. You took note of anything you deemed useful as you read.

A knock disrupted you. It was Tommy again. He brought an arm-full of old blankets. You met him at the doorway, thanking him. The man nodded and said if you needed anything that he'll be around. You thanked him again and decided that you'd wait to give the dogs their blankets until they were ready and trained to go outside.

After reading a few more pages, you fixed up some more things around the kennels and cleaned up the place a little more.

The sun went down and the town lights came on. Work slowed the darker it got in the barn. Soon enough, you bid the dogs goodnight and made your way home. You weren't too hungry so you skipped dinner and read until you couldn't anymore.

The next morning, you woke again before the sun. You peeked outside and saw that maybe only one or two people were awake. You got ready slowly, giving the town time to wake up before you officially started your day.

You shucked a big, thick jacket on and headed to the barn. The dogs greeted you with barks and wagging tails. For each kennel you cleaned, you gave the resident dog some love. You fed them and refreshed their water. Your stomach growled and you headed out to get your own breakfast.

The Miller Family was already there and settled, as was Debby. Debby seemed to be talking a very tired-looking Joel Miller's ears off about something. You see Ellie excuse herself from the table and make her way to join you in the line. She grabs a plate and comes up beside you.

“You smell like the barn,” Are the first words Ellie speaks to you. “Do you work with the horses?”

“No,” You answer as your grab some breakfast. “I work in the kennels.”

“Kennels?” Ellie presses.

“There’s some kennels in a room off to the side in the barn,” You tell her, grabbing a drink and utensils. “I can show you sometime if you like.”

“That’d be.. cool,” Ellie gives a chill smile, her eyes sparkling in excitement.

You lead the way to the table and you two take up your usual spots. You start eating instantly, extra hungry from the skipped dinner last night.

“You smell like the barn,” Debby notes with her nose wrinkled in distaste.

You swallow your bite of breakfast, “Woke up early.”

“And the barn was the first place you went?” She asks.

“Well yeah..,” You look at her finally, feeling a little subconscious. “Where else would I go?”

Debby opens her mouth to speak, but closes it again. She decided to not add any more comments about you and continue on with her breakfast.

A small conversation picks up between Tommy and Joel. Something about patrols and work that needs to be done around the town. It’s almost like they plan their day around each other, as if they want to see each other as often as possible. Maria joins in too, noting sightings from patrols on the west side. Joel nods, muttering about going out sometime today or tomorrow.

“What about the fences for the dogs?” Ellie interrupts.

“Still on my list,” Joel answers Ellie and then looks at you. “When would you want to start on that?”

“Whenever works best for you,” You tell him.

“We can start after this, if you’d like,” Joel suggests.

You nod, “That works.”

Joel nods and you go back to your breakfast.

You’re starting to get used to the slow breakfasts, but not really. You’re antsy to get back to the dogs. But breakfast does go by. Joel goes to get some tools and wood, and you go to meet him at the barn. The dogs were antsy for your return, barking and jumping on their chainlink cages as you walk by. You give them love and refill their waters if needed.

Joel shows up not long after, with Ellie in tow. You help carry wood and tools back to where you want to start. You two adults get to work, and you tell Ellie to make herself comfortable inside the barn and that the dogs are friendly. You and Joel tear up the old wooden fence and replace with new, better wood. You both hammer down and sand, making sure the fence is stable and has a lack of splinters. You slowly make your way around this corner of the barn, completing the process of setting up the fence by midday. Putting up the chicken wire only takes another hour or two.

When finished, you ask Joel for another favor, if he doesn’t mind. What? To help make the doggy doors a little better, and make it so the dogs goes in and out as they please.

Joel agrees, leaves to grab some more supplies, and when he comes back he shows you how to install his idea so you can do some doors as well.

Joel takes the previous doggy door off, cuts around the doorway to make the shape a little better, installs a new frame around the door, attaches this rubber to the sides and bottom, and attaches this swinging rubbery door to the doorway. Joel explains that the rubber will act as a seal to keep the cold air out of the kennel, and the new door should flap back and forth a few times before catching on the rubber and sealing the inside from the outside again.

You nod as you take in his instructions and explanation. It’s only slightly confusing but hopefully with some hands on the instructions will become more clear.

Joel moves to the next door down, and you settle in at the one beside that. Joel shows you how to install at a slow pace, making sure to go step by step with you. He does this at the next doggy door, and a few more before weaning you off instruction and trusting you to do it by yourself. It’s not long before you make it to the other side, installing the other five doggy doors. You do the last two yourself, Joel keeping a watchful eye over your shoulder.

Once you’re done, it’s evening. The sun is just barely starting to set. A few of the dogs have begun to venture outside to check out the new fence, their new doors, and Joel. After a few hi’s to the dogs, you take Joel inside through a door for people located in the premises of the new fences. You help him collect and put away his tools, but you seem to get a little too confident with these newfound tools and the small saw slips in your grasp and cuts into your first two fingers. You yelp and hiss, instantly grabbing your two injured fingers in the palm of your injured hand.

“What? What?,” Joel’s instantly concerned, gently grabbing your shoulder to turn you. “What happened?”

He zeros in on your fingers grasped in your hands and gently cups your hands in his.

“It-It’s fine, Joel. Really,” You tell him. “I guess I just wasn’t holding the saw tight enough and it slipped.”

“Let me see it,” Joel demands softly.

“Joel, really,” You pull your hands away slightly. “It’s okay. I can fix it up myself.”

“Just let me see it,” Joel demands again.

You look at his face full of concern and give in, resting your hands in his grasp. You release your fingers from your grasp and let them fall victim to Joel’s eyes. The man gently straightens your fingers with his and look at the cuts on your fingerpads, titling your hand from side to side.

Joel hums, “Come back to my place. I got the stuff to fix you up.”

“I can just do it at my house,” You try to reason with the taller man, who make your hands look like half the size they really are in his.

“Do you have rubbing alcohol?” He asks and you shake your head. “Bandages?” Another head shake from you. “Well, I’ve got those at my place, so just come back with Ellie and I and I’ll get you fixed up before dinner.”

“But-“ You start.

“It’s better than you running around with bleeding fingers trying to get the supplies yourself,” Joel tells you, giving you an intense gaze.

You give in, “Fine.”

Joel nods, shucking the tool bag onto his shoulders and calling Ellie in from outside, as she joined you and stayed out to play with the dogs. He finally let you have your hands back when he led the way out the barn and to his house.

“What’s he so tense about?” Ellie asks, walking beside you.

“I cut myself on the saw,” You show her.

“Oh, well it’s not that bad,” Ellie waved Joel’s tenseness off. “He shouldn’t be that worried. Joel’s had so much worse!”

You don’t have too much time to look around Joel and Ellie’s house before Joel is ushering you off to the kitchen and asking Ellie to put the tool bag away. She does, marching off down the halls.

Joel stands you both over the sink, running the water until it’s decently warm. He helps wash your fingers off until the cuts are visible. They’re not too bad, but too deep to be left alone. Joel reaches up into a cabinet beside the sink and grabs some rubbing alcohol and some bandaids. You hiss when he pours the rubbing alcohol over the cuts, the stinging causing you to pull away on instinct. Joel gives you a minute before putting your fingers back under the water to wash away any more debris and any remaining alcohol. He turns the sink off and dabs the areas dry with a thin rag. Joel puts the bandaids on himself, he doesn’t give you a choice to try and put them on yourself. Once satisfied with his work, Joel finally lets you have your hand to yourself.

“Keep the bandaids on for a few days,” He tells you. “Either you can let them fall off or take them off when you’re ready. But if the cuts are still not healed when the bandaids come off, feel free to stop by and come grab some more.”

“Okay,” You nod, rubbing your good fingers against your injured ones, feeling the bumping texture of the bandaid. “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” Joel nods.

Joel looks at you for a moment. You watch as his eyes dart from here to there. But he gets to look for only a moment before the front door is thrusted open. In comes Debby.

“Joel!” She calls into the house, looking ahead. “Sorry for stopping in like this, but I figured it’s dinner time and you’d want to know! And we can like totally walk there together if you’re. . . . ready. .”

Debby trails off at the end of her sentence as she makes eye contact with the pair of you. She assesses the situation before speaking.

“Y/n? What are you going her?” Her tone is a nice balance between friendly and surprised, but her eyes scream confusion and threat.

“I got hurt working today and Joel fixed me up,” You tell her.

“Oh! Are you okay?” Debby slams the front door shut, rattling some little figurines on a nearby table.

She grabs your fingers a bit roughly, making you wince, and looks them over.

“He fixed you right up, didn’t he?” Debby voiced is pitched. She looks at Joel, “Didn’t you, Joel?” She almost speaks to him like a puppy that’s done something cute.

Joel nods, “I offered.” His voice is monotone and he turns to put away the medical stuff, and throw away the bandaid wrappings.

“Well, girl!” Debby turns to you. “Don’t be such a klutz next time, yeah?”

“Umm,” You hesitate. “Yeah.”

Debby is tense. Almost as if she’s taking you being in Joel’s house as a threat to her crush on the man.

Ellie comes stomping down the hallway. She’s easy to hear when the kitchen has gone quiet. She calls out to Joel.

“I’m hungry, man!” She expressed. “When are we going to eat?”

She turns the corner and her raised eyebrows fall when she see the additional person in the kitchen. Ellie huffs, looking at Joel with an irritated expression. Joel gives the hint of one back.

“We can head out now,” Joel says.

“Good!” Ellie marches on to the front door and outside. She clobbers down the steps, “I’m so hungry!!”

You three adults trail after her. Joel turns on his porch light and shuts the front door. Joel takes big steps to catch up to his advancing daughter, urging her to slow down a bit.

Debby is uncharacteristically tense at dinner. Her chatter doesn't stop, but the edge to her tone gives her away. The table either doesn't notice or doesn't care. It's whatever to you, honestly. You're too focused on eating dinner, and figuring out how to hold a fork with three fingers.

"What happened there?" Tommy asks you during a break in Debby's dinner talk.

"Work accident," You tell Tommy after swallowing a bite of tonight's dinner. "One of the small saws slipped through my hand when I was helping Joel put tools away."

"It's hard to work in the cold," Tommy nods. "Your hands go numb and stuff. You got gloves for next time?"

You shake your head no.

"I can go by and get you some," Maria offers. "And some antibiotics, just in case."

"Oh thanks!" You thank Maria.

"I can drop them off at the barn if that works," Maria says.

"That works," You tell her. "Thank you."

"Anytime."

You find the gloves the next morning, sitting atop a stool that you use sometimes. You pull them on and get to work that day, training the dogs to go outside for potty instead of inside. You check up on your pregnant dog, which you've named "Mama." She doing good and growing steadily day by day. The only odd thing in the bunch is a dog at the end, that you've named "Mick" has got a case of the sniffles. You'll have to keep an eye on him.

After your little accident, the days go on. You have meals with the Miller family, which has lead to you and Ellie growing closer. She stops by the barn every once in a while, mostly to come play with the dogs and horses though. Debby and you grow closer as well, once you move past the tenseness she feels when she thinks you and Joel stand a little too close for her comfort. It's whatever to you, you're not entirely bothered by it. Maria and the Miller boys stop by too, to check in and stuff (Joel's excuse). Joel stops by a bit more than the couple though, just to see how the wood work is hanging, he says.

Mick, the skinny black mutt at the end of the row of kennels on the left, seems to get worse as the days go on. His sniffles and runny nose evolve into coughs, weakness, and a lack of eating. You get worried and run him to Jackson's local vet. The doctor says he's run into some type of winter cold. To her, it seems he's coming down from the worst of it. The vet gives you a small bag of this white powdery stuff and tells you to mix it in with his food and water. You follow orders, and give Mick another blanket.

There's one day, after dinner while you were checking on the dogs before you went home, that Mick doesn't get up. He hasn't really eaten since breakfast. You pet him, feeling his ears and they're burning hot. You worry and pace for a small bit, wondering what to do. You decide the best thing for Mick, and yourself, is to stay with him that night. You’re lucky that you wore some thicker clothes today, it’s supposed to be a cold one tonight. Despite Mick’s heat, he’s shivering. You pile up some blankets in the kennel and get settled for the night. All the lights in the barn are off, the only light now is coming from the heat lamps that hang low from the ceiling. You curl you and Mick into a corner. You sit up so Mick can lay on your lap. It’s uncomfortable but you fall asleep anyway.

You’re roused awake by someone calling your name. You think you’re dreaming until your name is called again. You blink open your eyes and see a figure crouched in front of you, resting a hand on your leg.

It’s Joel.

There concern written on his face, and perhaps a little bit of confusion.

“What are you doing here?” Joel asks in a hushed voice.

“Mick’s sick,” You voice is raspy with sleep and lack of water.

You palm Mick’s head, feeling around his fur. His heated ears have cooled considerably. Maybe he’s getting better.

Joel huffs, you’re not sure what for.

“What are you doing here?” You asks back, a little more awake now.

“Well your porch light wasn’t on and- and Ellie said you hadn’t come home yet,” Joel explains.

“What time is it?” You asks again. There’s not windows here to look out of to guesstimate the time.

“Awhile after midnight,” Joel answers. “The town’s already gone to sleep.”

“And why didn’t you,” You press.

Joel hesitates, “I. . . I couldn’t sleep.”

You hum in response.

“You mind if I stay with you?” Joel asks.

“Sure,” You nod.

Joel situations himself beside you, your shoulders are barely pressed against each other.

“It’s. . supposed to be cold tonight,” Joel notes.

“You want a blanket?” You ask, thinking that he’s implying that he’s cold.

“Sure,” Joel says.

He takes the one you hand him and situates it on top of himself.

Due to your tiredness, you fall back asleep rather quickly, enveloped in the warmth of the dog on your lap and the man on your side. Unbeknownst to you, when you do fall into a good sleep, your head falls to rest on Joel’s broad shoulder.

Joel’s a little tense at first, but when the heat from you and the heat lamp above soak into his clothes, he’s dozing right off to sleep.

The next morning, you wake by yourself. You're so so warm, but your body hurts so so bad. You rub the possibly bluriness from your eyes before opening them. The room is lit from the plastic doggy door. It's not too bright out, so either the sun isn't up all the way or it's super cloudy outside. As you wake up more, you realize the position your in.

Somehow, someway, you've made your way under Joel's arm and you're resting your head on his upper chest. Mick has moved as well, from your lap to Joel's. He looks comfy, passed out.

You reach over and pet Mick's head, massaging his ears. They've cooled back down to a regular temperature. Maybe all Mick needed was some company for a night. You sigh and settle back down. You close your eyes for a moment before you hear footsteps and someone clearing their throat. You open your eyes again and see Ellie standing in front of the kennel.

"So this is where Joel ran off to in the middle of the night?" Ellie whispered, an amused expression on her face.

"I thought you knew where Joel was," You asked, only a little confused.

"Oh no," Ellie shakes her head. "He ran off in the middle of the night. Something about going to the barn to check on something. I guess you were that something."

"I guess," You cast a glimpse at Joel. Since when did he become so worrisome, especially towards you. "What time is it?"

"Breakfast time," Ellie answered, "Which is why I stopped by here."

Ellie turned her attention towards Joel and raised her voice from a whisper, "Joel! Joel! It's like way past your morning alarm!"

Joel only groans in response. He stretches, raising his arms above his head. When he puts his arms back down, Joel traps you back against his oh so warm body. But he jumps when he feels you under him.

"Sorry. . 'bout that," Joel apolgizes, putting his arms down in front of him.

"It's alright," You tell him.

"So awkward," Ellie mumbles, kicking the dirt floor of the barn.

Joel moves to get up, but a furry body prevents him from doing so.

Mick shuffles and wakes from his slumber. Without picking up his head, he looks back at the two of you and wags his tail. He already looks so much better.

"You feeling better, boy?" You ask him, petting his head.

His sniffs your hand, and licks it.

"'cuse me, kid," Joel pats Mick on the head and shifts his legs little by little until Mick lifts his head. He gets up slowly, groaning as he uses his knees as leverage to get up from the dirt floor.

You follow suit, groaning as well. You'll be regretting sleeping in a dirt floor today. You do your best to stretch out your condensed muscles.

Joel limps and wobbles a little bit as he makes his way out of the kennel and to Ellie.

"That's what you get for sleeping on a dirt floor, man," Ellie shoves Joel lightly.

While the two bicker, you check up on Mick. He's sitting up now, wagging his tail while doing his best to give you a tired little smile. He looks so much better now! Especially with the lack of sniffling and coughing.

After a few minutes of petting Mick, you turn towards the bickering father and daughter, "You don't mind if I feed the dogs real quick before breakfast, do you?"

"Not at all," Joel says.

"Can I help?" Ellie asks excitedly.

"Sure!" You say.

You tell her to gather the bowls from the kennels on the right while you gather the bowls from the kennels on the left. You fill the bowls and split the ten bowls between you two again to deliver them to the dogs. After feeding, you also refill their water bowls. Soon enough, the dogs are chowing down on their food and you three head off to the mess hall.

It's cold out, colder than when you arrived at Jackson. It seems the worst of winter is making it's way up and into the mountains. You're glad to get into the warm mess hall as soon as possible.

Once you three get settled and start eating and conversating with the rest of your group, a shadow at the corner of your eye causes you to turn to your right.

A young woman stands to your right, looking a little nervous as she twiddles her fingers.

"You work at the kennels, right?" She asks.

"I do," You nod. "What can I do for you?"

"Well, I was just wondering if any dogs are available for adoption," The woman explains. "I just feel bad 'cause it's getting colder out now."

"I'd say the dogs are ready for adoption," You tell her. "You can come by the barn after breakfast to come check the dogs out."

"Oh thank you!" She smiles. "I'll see you after breakfast!!"

The young woman practically skips back to her table, excitedly telling her group of friends her plans for the afternoon.

Breakfast goes by unexcitedly. The only relatively interesting news that is that Joel will be going out on patrol today, but that's about it.

The Millers, Debby, and you go your separate ways after dinner. You trot in the direction of the barn, meeting the lady from the beginning of breakfast there. She shows up soon after you, introducing herself as Mary. Mary brings along a friend as well, a woman around her age named Saturn.

You introduce the duo to the resident dogs, telling them about their personalities and any mishaps they've had while at the kennel.

Mary takes a shibu and Saturn takes a chow. As a form of payment, they exchange some homemade stuff that they made in their free time, like soaps and a wood carved duck. You give the ladies their dogs' favorite blankets and bid them goodbye.

As soon as you're doing cleaning up the empty kennels, a few more people stop by that are interesting in adopting some dogs as well. Soon enough, you have a little gathering of people in the room. By the afternoon, all dogs except Mama, your resident pregnant german shepherd. Someone even adopted Mick, even though he was recently sick. You told Mick's owner what the vet told you about his bag of medicine. The owner reassured you that Mick was in good hands.

It was quiet in the room now. You cleaned up slowly, folding blankets and stacking food and water bowls. You sighed, resting on the counter that sat against the right wall and looked at Mama.

"Well, looks like it me and you now, girl," You told her.

She wagged her tail in response.

You paused for a few moments, thinking. You figured that bringing Mama to your house, instead of leaving her here, wouldn't be so bad.

"You wanna come home with me?" You asked Mama, opening her kennel door.

In response, she got up and hobbled her way over to you.

You figured that was a yes, and you gathered up her blankets and food bowls. You led the way through the barn, letting Mama either stop for a sniff or pause for a break. She was about as big as a hippo now, and no doubt was she about to pop any day now.

You two slowly made your way back to your house, and you get Mama settled in the downstairs bedroom with all her blankets. For now, you place her food and water bowl in the kitchen.

It's afternoon by the time you've settled you and Mama at home. You're not sure what to do now that you don't have ten dogs to take care of. Maybe you'd eat lunch or something. It's a bit late for lunch, but that means you missed the lunch rush. You pat Mama on the head and tell her you’re off for lunch. She's rested up on the couch and she makes no sign to move from her spot on the couch as you open the front door.

You walk by the barn on your way to the mess hall and see Ellie making her way from the barn. She looks a little dejected before she see you, and then she lights right back up. The girl trots right over to you, bumping into your shoulder when she’s close enough.

“Whatcha up to, kid?” You ask.

"Well, Joel's on patrol and the kids here and doing something totally lame so.. I was looking for you and saw all the dogs were gone," Ellie kicked some dirt at the end of her explanation, hiding her dejection.

"Oh sorry kid," you apologized. "Yeah, most the dogs got adopted out today. The only dog that didn't was Mama, the pregnant one."

"Where is she?" Ellie asked. "She's not in the barn or outside."

"I actually brought her home," You told Ellie. "I didn't think it was fair to leave her there herself, especially since she's already so close to having her puppies."

"Oh is she really?" Ellie looked up at you, surprised.

"I know!" You acknowledge her surprise. "It doesn't feel like that much time has passed but I guess it has."

Ellie nodded.

"Well.. I am going to the mess hall to get some lunch if you'd like to join," You offered.

"Sure!" Ellie took your offer and you two were off to the mess hall.

Since you two were taking a late lunch, there were very few people in the mess hall. Only a few of the kitchen staff and a few people eating late lunch were seen in the mess hall.

You and Ellie decided to sit at your regular table but across from each other. It was nice to have someone sit across from you for once, especially someone so pleasant to talk to. Ellie was so pleasant to talk to that you two accidentally had stayed until evening, when the early eaters started trickling in. In a decision to make room for the early dinner crowd, you and Ellie had decided to go and walk around town. There was a slight chill to the air, but nothing too bad. The lack of a breeze made the early evening air easier to handle.

Eventually, you two had made your way back to your house. Ellie had beelined for Mama, who hadn't moved from her spot on the couch. You gotten the three of you settled in your living room with blankets and warm drinks. You and Ellie got to know each other more and you learned she wasn't originally from Jackson like you thought, but from the east coast. In return, you told her where you came from. You two ended up bonding over the struggles of the world outside of Jackson.

Around mid-conversation, a frantic knocking was heard from your front door. You paused and turned, glancing over at Ellie who looked as confused as you did. You got up and opened your front door caustiously.

A sobbing and hyperventilating Debby. She practically burst through your partially opened front door and into your arms. You barely caught her as you stumbled back. She was mumbling incoherently through her sobs and hiccups.

"What?" You asked, trying to pry the sobbing woman from your arms.

"Joel's hurt!!" Debby yelled through her tears.

Panic and alarm hit you. You looked and Ellie to see the same emotions mirrored onto her face. She shucked on her jacket and was out the door before you could get Debby up onto her feet. You shoved Debby out and mumbled a "be back" to Mama before shutting your front door and attempting to catch up to a sprinting Ellie.

Ellie had burst through Jackson's infirmary before you got there, calling out for her dad. You and Debby caught up to her. You stood behind Ellie, looking for Joel while Debby clung to your jacket.

A sob tore from Debby's throat and she lunged forward, leaving you and Ellie behind.

Predicting the distraught woman's path, you spotted Joel settled in a back corner. There was blood on his face and his right eye was squinty. His clothes and hair were disheveled, splattered with blood. Currently, his hands were being cleaned up and bandaged. Whoever he got in a fight with, neither of the opponents came out pretty.

You nudged Ellie and led her quickly and quietly from the infirmary to her dad. Once there, Debby was all over him. Sobbing and pawing at the injured man. Joel winced at her ministration, looking tired and irritated.

"Ma'am. Ma'am," One of the nurses called attention to Debby. "You're getting in the way of his treatment. Please back away."

The nurse's words had no affect, and Debby ended up having to be pulled away from Joel and calmed down on another cot nearby.

You decided to let Debby have some time to herself and stay here with Ellie in case she needed any support.

Ellie stood there nervously, not wanting to get in the way of the nurses but also wanted to be next to Joel.

"He'll be okay," Ellie mumbled to herself. "He's been through so much worse."

You pat Ellie on her shoulder, comforting her the best you could in the situation.

At the mumbling, Joel looked up and made eye contact with Ellie. He adjusted on the cot and pat the spot beside him. Ellie sat down beside Joel, practically pressed up against him.

"What happened?" Ellie asked.

“Just some raiders that ambushed us over by the ridge,” Joel explained.

He winced when the nurse dabbed at the cut above Joel’s right eye, as she had finished tending to his hands.

You glanced down at his hands. They were relaxed at the moment. There were some cuts and splotches of bruises littered across the peak of Joel’s knuckles. Joel’s left hand was bandaged from the knuckles and down around his wrist. He must’ve gotten really hurt on that hand.

“Well, you fucked them up pretty good, right?” Ellie asked, her tone indicating that she was trying to lighten the mood a little.

“ ‘course,” Joel chuckled, patting Ellie on the knee.

Two bodies joined you on one side. You looked over to see Maria and Tommy. They both looked over at Debby before turning their attention to Joel.

“What’s up with her?” Tommy asked you, confusion on his face.

“No idea,” You shrugged.

You noticed a black eye forming under Tommy’s left, mirroring Joel’s squinty right eye.

“You on patrol too?” You asked.

“Yeah,” Tommy nodded, sticking his hands in his pockets. “Joel seemed to have gotten the worst of it compared to me.”

You nodded.

“He’s tough though,” Maria noted, switching her attention from Joel to you. “I heard you had a busy day at the kennels. How many dogs got adopted?”

“All but one,” You answered.

“Oh really?” Tommy looked surprised. “I figured they all would’ve gone.”

“The only one that didn’t go was the pregnant one,” You told him. “But I brought her home cause it didn’t feel fair to leave her up there all by herself.”

“She didn’t give birth yet?” Maria asked.

“Nope,” You said. “Any day now though.”

Maria nodded.

The nurse stood from her stool and worked on gathering her medical supplies, “All fixed up, Miller. Take it easy for a few days.”

“I’ll try,” Joel responded.

He groaned as he got up. The man massaged the back of his neck with a hand, squinting in discomfort. Joel eyed the three of you, no readable emotion in his eyes.

“I need a drink,” Joel groaned.

“I bet you do,” Tommy chuckled.

“You wanna join?” The older Miller brother switched his attention to you.

“Awe what?!” Ellie exclaimed. “Then who am I gonna hang out with?”

“Go hang out with that Dina girl,” Joel reasoned. “You seem to like her a lot.”

Ellie scoffed, her cheeks turning just the slightest of pinks, “I guess..”

“I’ll be okay, kid,” Joel told his kid.

“Plus, it’s about time we get this hermit out her shell,” Tommy joked, bumping your shoulder with his fist.

You rolled your eyes playfully, “Those dogs loved me.”

“ ‘course,” Tommy shrugged.

The younger Miller lead the way out of the infirmary and into the cold winter air.

The sun was just a few feet above the horizon line now, painting the sky in oranges and pinks. A few people were out and about, but due to the cold weather slowly making its way over the mountains there weren’t many.

Once you’d reached the bar, called Tipsy Bison, Joel told Ellie to scamper off (in his grumpy, loving way) before leading the five of you into the bar. Because of course once Debby had seen Joel up and walking, she had attached herself to his hip and snuggled up to him all the way to the bar. You’d decided to hang back with Tommy and Maria to avoid awkwardness.

Being quite early at the bar had its quirks apparently. You’d all gotten chairs at the bar-top right next to each other. In a way to for you not to feel left out, you sat between the Miller brothers. You talked primarily with Tommy and Maria, as Joel seemed only focused on drinking at the moment.

As the sun set and more people trickled in, the five of you moved to a table near the outer circle and away from the crowd. With the table being circular, there was a bit more of an even option to talk to everyone. Most talk was about the town’s going ons and how the patrol went. You chipped in a couple times, but not too much. You’d spent these past few months in the barn and the mess hall, so you had no interesting news to share with the group.

Slowly, music had started from a jukebox in the corner of the bar and as people started dancing, Tommy and Maria had excused themselves and disappeared into the crowd. This left you with Debby and Joel, which wouldn’t have been awkward if it weren’t for Debby’s one-sided flirting towards a very tired-looking Joel.

You excused yourself and headed off towards the bar to get another drink.

It was louder over by the bartop compared to your little corner near the back of the barn. Thankfully, you ordered your drink without much hassle. You waited patiently, standing with your forearms resting on the counter and tapping your fingers against the wood along with the music. You felt a body join you on your left, but thought nothing of it until they started talking.

“You looking for someone to dance with?”

A tall blond man stood on your left, leaning against the counter with one arm. He already held a drink in his hand. His blue eyes looked you up and down, only briefly making eye contact.

“No,” You observed him briefly, before looking ahead at the bar again.

“Awe.. Why not?” The man sighed, setting a hand on your upper arm. “You got something better to do?”

You only looked at the blond man. After a few heartbeats went by, you tried to pull your arm away from the unknown man but to no avail. This man kept a rather tight grip on your upper arm.

“Well?” The man asks.

“Can you let me go please?” You try to pull your arm away with a bit more force this time.

“Why?” The blond man only tightened his grip. “I’m not hurting you, am I?”

Before you could respond, you could feel an overbearing presence over your shoulder. You didn’t have a chance to look at the person before they spoke.

“Is there a problem here?” Joel spoke from behind you.

When the blond man made eye contact with Joel, he let go of your arm so fast that you almost thought something burned him. His previously smirky expression developed into one of panic and fear. The man scooted back from you a bit.

“No-nothing for you to worry about, Joel,” The man seemed to have a bit of confidence still in him as he tried to tell Joel off.

“Go scamper off, kid,” Joel brushed the comment aside. “Go bother someone who wants to be bothered.”

The blond man huffed and left your side, shoulder-checking Joel before stalking off into the crowd. You watched the man walk off before Joel joined you at the bar top counter.

“You alright?” He asked, ordering his own drink when a bartender came by.

“Yeah,” You nodded. “I’m more weirded out than anything.”

Joel nodded. He set a soft hand on your upper arm, patting it once or twice while you waited for your drinks.

After getting your drinks, you and Joel went back to your table.

Debby had left and you couldn’t see her anywhere in the crowd. You assumed she went off into the crowd after Joel went to get another drink for himself. You weren’t worried too much. Your friend has lived in Jackson longer than you, so you trusted that she knew her way around town.

“So,” Joel took a sip of his drink. “Got anything going on for the rest of the night?”

“Umm.. Probably just gonna go home, check on Mama, and go to bed,” You told him. “Not the most excited.”

“You mind if I. . joined you? If that’s not a problem,” Joel took another sip from his drink, as if hiding behind the glass.

"Not at all," You smiled.

Joel's sudden shyness was unlike him, as was the pink tint to his cheeks. Why? Was it hot in here? You didn't think so. You shrugged his reaction off, not thinking anything about it.

After sipping down your drink, you and Joel left Tipsy Bison and headed off to your house. It was dark out now, and much colder than today. Not many people were on the streets either, not unusual for a cold winter night in Jackson. After your walk through town, you came up onto your porch. You noticed a medium-sized black lump on your porch. You didn't turn your porch on before you left in the late afternoon, so it was hard to tell what was on your porch.

As you came closer, the black lump lifted up it's head. It was a dog. The dog wagged it's tail as you came closer. Joel hung back a bit as you stepped up onto your porch. In the full moon light, you could see the black dog was Mick! He must've ran away from home and found your house!

"It's just Mick," You turned and told Joel. "He must've gotten out from his owner's house earlier."

"Ah," Joel joined you up on the porch and gave the black dog a few pats on the head. "Okay."

You opened your front door and welcomed Joel and Mick into your house. You told Joel to make himself comfortable.

As you hung up your jacket onto the hooks on the wall by your door, you noticed the lack of Mama's greeting as you came inside. You told Joel you'll be right back, you're just going to check up on your dog. You made your way into the downstairs bedroom and was greeted by small yaps and the thump of a wagging tail. You turned the light on and saw Mama laying in a nest of blankets with three very tiny bodies nestled against her belly.

"Oh!" You exclaimed.

You joined Mama on the floor, checking the new puppies. They weren't wet and all were breathing fine. You concluded that Mama must have given birth sometime early into your night out. You gave your dog a couple pats on the head and moved her water bowl closer to her so she could take a drink.

The click-clack of claws and the thumping of boots made you turn around.

Joel and Mick stood in the doorway. Upon the sight of Mama, Mick came in and gave Mama a couple licks on the head before settling down beside her. Joel still stood there, observing the situation.

"You alright in here?" He asked. "Thought I heard you say something?"

"I was just surprised that Mama gave birth already," You told Joel, settling down into a more comfortable sitting position on the floor. "Would you like to come see?"

"Sure," Joel was quick to come settle down beside you, letting Mama sniff his hand before giving her some well-deserved pets on the head.

You watched him interact with the dogs, surprised to see Joel relax so quickly in the presence of animals. It was almost like you weren't in the room with him anymore. Almost.

Joel sat up a bit, looking at you now, "So how are those fingers?"

You brought your hand up to look at your injured fingers, "They're not too bad. Still a little tender." You looked up at Joel. "How's your face?"

"Sore," Joel responded, smiling a bit.

"Too bad I couldn't be the one to fix you up," You sighed a little. "To repay the favor."

"Next time," Joel said.

"Next time?" You questioned, surprised. "I hope next time is just a little scratch and not a spilt eyebrow."

Joel only laughed at you.

You two spent the rest of the night sitting in the room with the dogs and getting to know each other a little more. Joel was a complicated, many-layered man who seemed to have very few soft spots. You were happy to be friends with Joel, but something deep down was tempting to see if you could be more.

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