#goddammit Sarah | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cakesunflower · 2 months ago

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lovelorn (and nobody knows) [rafe cameron au fic] chapter 9

Summary: Isla Carrera had planned for the summer before college to be focused on three things: helping out at her family’s restaurant (the helpful daughter), preparing for college (the good student), and having fun with the Pogues (the loyal friend). But one fateful night, where her car breaks down and her rescuer is none other than Rafe Cameron, seems to send her summer down a path she didn’t see coming–one teeming with a secret, illicit romance with the last person she expected. And if her friends and sister found out, Isla isn’t sure they’ll be so understanding, no matter what her feelings are.

A/N: Happy reading!!!!!

Isla touches up her lipstick under the bright lights of the bathroom, which smells like apples thanks to whatever air freshener is plugged in here. When she drops the lipstick in her purse, Isla sighs at her reflection, the frustration evident in her green eyes. She knows it’s only been a little over an hour since she and her family arrived at Midsummers, but it was an hour spent unable to get to Rafe, and the thought has her blowing a slow breath out of her nose.

Relax. You’re becoming desperate. When has she ever chased after a guy? It’s not in her nature, really, and she’s not sure why it’s becoming so prominent about Rafe Cameron, of all people. She tells herself that it’s guilt that’s driving her, feeling badly for assuming he was the one who had punched JJ because of how offended and hurt he had looked when it came up. Truthfully, Isla hadn’t expected Rafe to be hurt by it, not the way she had seen it reflected in his eyes, and she guesses maybe that’s why she’s so adamant on talking to him and properly apologizing to him.

And especially after that date. . . The way he set it up for them, cooking their meal—it was the sweetest thing any guy has ever done for her to show her their interest. Anyone she has been with before, whether it was a relationship or whatever, never put that kind of effort for her. And that. . . It meant a lot to her. Not to mention the fact that she really did have a good fucking time and, frankly, wished that he had kissed her. Or she should have kissed him.

They should have fucking kissed.

Isla blows out a breath, knowing she can’t change the past as she gives herself one last look over before walking to the door. She begins her walk down the hallway back to where the party is, hearing chatter and music in the distance, only to come to a sudden halt to avoid running into someone who turns the corner from a connecting hallway.

“Isla?” She freezes upon hearing her name from the familiar voice, taking in a deep, quiet breath when her gaze lifts and her eyes lock with her ex-boyfriend.

Of all the people to run into. . .

She hadn’t once thought of running into Carlo at Midsummers, but that was also because she forgot that a few months ago, his mom got remarried and his step-dad is from the Kook side of Outer Banks, and while Carlo hadn’t changed schools and still went to the public school Isla and her friends go to instead of switching over to the Kook academy, it shouldn’t be a surprise that he and his family would come tonight. She had been lucky enough not to spot him—until now, as he stares at her in mild surprise, like he hadn’t expected to run into her, either.

“I was just heading back,” she says, moving to brush past him.

“Wait—” She is forced to stop when he suddenly appears in front of her. “We never got a chance to talk at Sarah’s party.”

Her patience is already wearing thin. “That’s because I made it clear I don’t want to talk to you,” she tells him, trying to keep her voice steady. Goddammit, why can’t he take the hint? What is there for him to say? To apologize for cheating on her? Beg for her forgiveness? She doesn’t care—not anymore, at least. Her annoyance builds, and Isla narrows her eyes and says, “Let’s get one thing clear, Carlo. I don’t owe you shit, alright? You fucked up. You threw our relationship out the window. So I’m well within my rights to tell you to go to hell and never have to speak to you again, because you don’t deserve it.”

Carlo’s jaw tightens, the vein in his temple beginning to protrude with every word Isla hits him with. But she simply keeps glaring at him, undeterred and sick of him trying to have a conversation with her that he thinks will change her opinion of him. “You never even gave me a chance to explain myself—”

“Explain yourself?” Isla repeats, eyebrows rising in disbelief at his audacity. “I’m sorry, I don’t need a step by step walk-through of how your dick ended up in some Jersey girl. It’s been a year since we broke up, Carlo. Move on. I sure as hell have.”

She sees the muscle in his jaw work, indignation firing up in his eyes. But right when Isla thinks he’s going to argue back, spew some bullshit, he surprises her by dipping his chin briefly in a nod. “Fine,” he says tightly. “You win. Won’t bother you again.”

Isla arches an eyebrow as she watches him turn and go, mildly surprised at how easily he gave in. But she doesn’t have a chance to dwell on it, because a new voice from behind her speaks up. “Are you always this brutal to guys who have a thing for you?”

Heart jumping, Isla spins around to see Rafe leaning against the wall on his side, watching her with an almost blank expression. Unable to help herself, Isla’s gaze dips, taking in the sight of him now that he’s this close after days of not seeing him, admiring the pristine press of his suit, his bangs framing his temples, and the family ring he wears on his pinky that gleams under the hallway lights.

When her gaze lifts to meet his, he arches an eyebrow, and instead of being embarrassed that he noticed her blatantly checking him out, she’s just relieved to see him—to have him talk to her. “Only the ones who deserve it,” she replies, her voice growing soft on its own. There’s about five feet of space between them, and she’s desperate to diminish it. “Rafe, I—can we talk?”

“About what?” he asks, but there’s a shift in his gaze that tells Isla he knows exactly what she wants to talk about.

She takes a couple of steps towards him, all too aware of the party going on behind her and that any one of her friends or her sister could walk by at any point and spot them. But she doesn’t want to add fuel to this already sensitive situation as she tells him, “I want to apologize—”

“Not here,” he cuts her off.

Isla blinks and before she knows it, his hand is holding hers and Isla’s gaze instantly drops down to the way his larger hand engulfs hers, his touch warm as their palms press together, and the air hitches in her throat as he tugs her forward. She has enough sense to use her free hand to lift the skirt of her dress so she doesn’t trip as Rafe pulls her around her corner, her heart thundering and too quickly for her to comprehend, they’re suddenly in a small, dark room.

Isla’s gaze darts, just barely making out the shelves next to her and along the wall opposite of the door as she turns around when the sound of the door clicking shut breaks the silence. She squints when a light is switched on, bathing her and Rafe in dim yellow lighting. Her throat tightens when she notices how small the room is—feeling smaller still with Rafe towering over her. Even in the shitty lighting of the supply closet, he’s unfairly gorgeous, the kind that makes her heart skip a beat in one second and pick up its pace in the next. And in the small space, the scent of his cologne is more prominent; fresh and woodsy and delicious.

When her gaze meets his, he arches an eyebrow and tells her, “Wouldn’t want your friends to spot us.”

He says it dryly, and it tightens something in her chest—even as she notes the way his gaze seems to trace the length of her, her skin prickling with awareness. His words have her blurting, “Rafe, I’m so—”

“I overreacted,” he cuts in, effectively surprising her as she gapes up at him. She most definitely hadn’t expected that. When he takes note of her surprised expression, one corner of his lips tilts up in a small, knowing smile. “I was thinking about it and I can’t exactly blame you for thinking I gave Maybank the black eye.”

“I was unfair,” she says with a frown, unsure how this conversation turned around. “I shouldn’t have just assumed that it was you.”

“I can’t exactly blame you for it,” he says, that half smile still visible as he rubs his bottom lip with a thumb. “Not with the history I have with your friends. I can’t expect you to forget all of that after just one date. It was unfair of me, too, to just shut you out these last couple of days.” His gaze meets hers and Isla’s throat locks at the genuine apology in his eyes, the kind that you can’t fake. “I’m sorry for not responding to your messages.”

Isla’s lips part, though no words come out as she stares at him in surprise. Part of her wonders if she’s imagining things, but she still can’t help the way her lips curve up into an incredulous, fond smile. Rafe’s gaze tracks the movement as he asks through a short chuckle, “What?”

She shakes her head, biting down on her smiling bottom lip. “I came here today fully intent on apologizing to you for not giving you the benefit of the doubt. And you just completely turn it around and apologize to me instead.”

His smile widens a bit, looking down at her with a lift of his chin. “Did I steal your thunder?”

Isla lets out a laugh. “A little bit,” she says with a nod. The air between them grows tense, in a way that makes her skin heat up as she realizes their proximity. But even so, her smile falters and she tells him, “I really am sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Rafe’s smile fades a bit and for a second, Isla thinks he’s going to deny being hurt. But then again, Rafe is full of surprises, because he nods, gaze dropping to their feet as his lips twist to the side briefly. “I appreciate your apology.” His gaze lifts, blue eyes locking with her deep green, and the air seems to crackle. “You’re forgiven.”

Her shoulders sink in relief, not realizing how badly she wanted to hear those words until Rafe says them. The guy had given her one of the best dates she had ever been on, and she had turned around and insulted him, hurt his feelings, and Isla hated that she did that. If you asked her months ago if she would be up at night, tossing and turning over hurting Rafe Cameron’s feelings, she would have laughed in your face. But now, Isla feels an immense amount of relief knowing that he has forgiven her, and it’s a crazy development, but it’s not one she minds.

“Good,” she says quietly through a smile.

Her heart jumps when Rafe takes a step towards her, the already small space between them diminishing more as he does. “What about me?” he asks, voice low and enough to threaten goosebumps breaking across her skin. “Am I forgiven, too?”

She has to tilt her chin up to maintain eye contact as he gets closer, her pulse skittering in anticipation as the distance between them diminishes. The world beyond the door of the supply closet ceases to exist and all Isla can think of, can focus on, is the man before her, towering over her in his staggering height that she never before admired. She sees the way Rafe’s gaze dips from her eyes, lingering on her lips, and her stomach flips at the hungry look that darkens his eyes. She desperately wants him to act on that hunger.

“Yes,” she answers, her voice a whisper as if she’s divulging a secret only for him to know. Her own gaze flickers to his mouth, at lips that look so soft and make her wonder if they feel the same. Desire makes heat pool in her belly, her heart thudding faster and faster with every passing second. Through her dried throat, she speaks up, “If I tell you something, you promise not to hold it against me?”

Maybe he hears the vulnerability that slips into her tone, because Rafe’s gaze snaps up to meet her eyes once more. His chin dips into a single nod. “I promise.”

Her pulse quickens even more. For a split second, she hesitates in spilling her truth, knowing it’s going to leave her open and vulnerable in front of a person she never before wanted to be in such a state. But somewhere along the way, things changed so fast that Isla is left dizzy from it, but it’s a slow turning change she finds herself wanting to explore more of. It’s scary and new, but Isla wouldn’t be a Pogue if she shied away from trying scary and new things.

So conjuring up every ounce of her confidence, she looks him in the eye and confesses, “I missed you.”

Rafe’s eyes flare and she swears she hears him suck in a sharp breath, like her words were a punch in the gut. Her own cheeks warm as her statement hangs between them, feeling her heart pounding in her ears as she waits for him to say something. Anything. The tension in the small space is taut, ready to snap at any second, and she wonders if he can feel it so intently, too. Is she just imagining it? Can he, too, feel the sizzle of energy that exists between them?

“Isla.” His voice is rough, eyes darkening with a need that she feels deep in her bones. “Tell me I can kiss you.”

She nearly wants to cry in relief. “Please.”

It’s all the permission he needs, thankfully, and their collision is earth shattering.

Rafe’s arm winds around her waist and he tugs her close, erasing any remaining space between them as he leans down and captures her lips in a searing, breath-stealing kiss. Isla can’t stop the instant, gratifying moan that sounds from her throat at the first contact of his lips against hers, her hands coming up to grip the lapels of his suit jacket as she practically melts into him and the head spinning kiss.

Their fronts are pressed together and she swears she can feel every hard line of his torso against her as Rafe’s other hand grips her jaw, thumb on one side and his fingers on the other as he tilts her head just the way he likes it. Isla’s knees threaten to give out when his tongue teases her lips and she parts them for him immediately, wetness pooling in her underwear when he groans as his tongue languidly, teasingly slides along hers, tasting her as if he’s savoring every moment. Liquid heat pours through her blood as Rafe takes a few steps forward until Isla is being pressed against a shelf, the contents of it rattling yet neither of them paying any attention as he continues to rob her of her breath with his kiss.

One of her hands slides up to the back of his neck, fingers threading through his hair, and the pace of the kiss doesn’t slow for a second as Rafe’s arm moves from around her waist—only for his hand to grip her thigh from the parting of the slit of her dress, his skin warm against her already heated one, and she gasps against him as he lifts her leg to hook it around his hip. It brings them even closer, if possible, and Isla whimpers when she feels his hardness press against her panty covered core, the fiery need for him intensifying even more.

Yes, yes, yes. This is better than she could have ever imagined, going beyond her wildest fantasies. Every movement of his lips against hers sparks electricity in her veins, bringing her closer and closer to the point of cataclysmic explosion. She has kissed plenty of people before but, God, never like this. This, she can feel deep in her soul, bringing every cell in her body to life. She thinks she can easily get addicted to this—to Rafe’s kisses. How can someone be so damn good at kissing?

Isla doesn’t want to stop, she never wants this to stop, but air becomes an annoying necessity. Their kiss slows down, but it seems that Rafe doesn’t want to end it, either, dragging it out as long as he can, tasting her lips with sweet, soft kisses that make her heart ache in the best way. They don’t pull apart, foreheads pressing together as they catch their breaths, the supply closet filled with the sounds of their labored breathing as they share the air between them.

Isla’s eyes slowly open, heavy with dizzying lust, eyelashes fluttering as she finally opens them—only to see that Rafe is already watching her with a hooded gaze of his own. Her heart leaps, noting his kiss swollen lips, which have pinkened also because of her lipstick. The sight of her lipstick smeared on his mouth intensifies the heat pooled low in her belly, watching him with a hunger no doubt he can see.

Fuck. He kissed her in a way that ruined anyone else for her. There’s no going back from this.

“That was. . .” She trails off, still trying to catch her breath, their noses brushing together.

His mouth curves up. “Better than I could’ve imagined,” he finishes, making her already flushed cheeks blush more as she lifts her gaze to meet his, a shy yet thrilled smile dancing on her own lips. Especially when she feels his fingers brushing along her thigh, her leg still wrapped around him, and the blush deepens as she slowly puts her foot back onto the ground.

A breathless laugh escapes her as says, “You’ve got lipstick on your face.”

Rafe grins. An honest, panty-dropping smile that makes her want to kiss him again. His hand on her jaw shifts and she feels his thumb swipe along her bottom lip. “So do you, baby.”

Oh, God. The term of endearment does more to her than she cares to admit, breath stilling in her lungs as her lips tingle not only from his kiss, but the gentle caress of his thumb. His voice is low, a dizzying rasp, and if he ever finds out the kind of effect he has on her, then Isla is in trouble.

Dropping her gaze, she opens her purse and pulls out a small tissue packet. When she takes out a tissue and holds it up to him, Rafe glances at it before meeting her gaze, smirking as he says, “Your mess. Only right for you to clean it up.”

She finds herself grinning at the teasing glint in his eyes, biting her bottom lip as she moves her hand further up and, gently, wipes at Rafe’s lips. His gaze is heavy on her as she does so, heart thudding wildly as she gets rid of her lipstick smeared on his smiling mouth. “Done,” she says once she’s finished, crushing the tissue in a ball in her hand.

“Thank you,” he hums before taking the tissue pack from her hand. “My turn.”

Her pulse stutters once more when he places a knuckle under chin to lift her face up, gazes locking as he, oh so gently, wipes at the skin right around her lips, as if he’s being careful not to displace the rest of her makeup. It’s the most tender anyone has ever been with her, even if it’s something as mundane as him fixing her smeared lipstick, and Isla is a hundred percent sure she falls for him a little bit more, right at this moment. Who knew Rafe Cameron could be so soft, so gentle? After kissing her senseless, nonetheless.

“What do you say to a second date?” he asks, head tilting slightly as he dabs at the corner of her mouth.

Isla finds herself smiling, stomach fluttering. “I’ll say yes if you promise to kiss me again.”

Rafe grins, lowering his hand. Her body craves to be wrapped up in him again as he lifts his chin and says, “That’s a promise I’ll always keep.”

He proves himself when he presses a slow kiss to her lips once more, and Isla melts into him once more, wishing that they could stay in here, just the two of them, instead of returning to the Midsummers party. Her heart flutters wildly, happily, as she returns the kiss before they break apart slowly. “Just let me know when,” she tells him.

“Hmm?” Rafe hums, his gaze on her lips, like he wants to kiss her again. She’d totally let him.

Isla laughs. “For the date.”

His eyes flicker up to meet hers. “Yes, ma’am.” He glances over his shoulder. “Let me make sure the coast is clear.”

“One sec,” she says, taking out her phone and lipstick. Using the camera, she checks her reflection for a moment and grins at Rafe. “Nice clean up job,” she says, making him chuckle as he watches her quickly reapply her lipstick. He really did wipe away any remnants from her skin, and with the lipstick newly applied, no one would ever know. “Okay, I’m ready.”

She watches as Rafe steps to the door, switching off the light and plunging them into darkness, only for some light to slip through the crack that appears when Rafe opens the door just an inch or so. He peeks out, his hand gesturing her forward, and she steps up. “Okay, you’re good to go.”

He opens the door wider and Isla’s heart thuds as she steps out into the empty, bright hallway. She can hear the music and the party continue on outside, glancing down at the last second to make sure her dress is straightened, which it is. Right when she’s about to make her way down the hallway, not wanting to linger in case someone comes by, Rafe’s voice stops her.

“Isla.” She glances at him where he remains inside, standing in the space between the door and the door frame. He grins that panty-dropping smile once more, his gaze dipping to take in the length of her and igniting a fire in her skin as it trails back up to meet her eyes. “You look beautiful.”

Her cheeks flush, glancing away momentarily to give herself a second to get her wits about her, before musing, “You’re only saying that ’cause you just made out with me.”

He chuckles. “Doesn’t make it any less true.” He winks and somehow makes even that seem hot, when Isla would otherwise find it cringey if it was anyone else. Rafe nods in the direction of the party. “Get back out there.”

Isla’s not quite ready to leave him, but she knows she has to because her friends and sister will start looking for her if she’s gone for too long. When she rejoins Kie and Sarah, her sister asks, “Where have you been?”

“Bathroom,” Isla answers. “Why, did I miss something?”

“No,” Sarah hums, flipping her blonde hair over her shoulder.

“Other than watching people ask Mom and Dad about their anniversary party. I think Mom’s gonna break out in hives,” Kie adds in. Their parents’ twentieth wedding anniversary is coming up quick, and they’re planning a party which Kie and Isla will be helping out with, and while their mom loves to throw a good party, the whole planning part stresses her out. “But we saw Carlo and were worried if you ran into him.”

Isla scoffs, trying to ignore the way her lips are still tingling from Rafe’s kisses. “I did,” she says, making both of their gazes whip to her. Isla rolls her eyes. “It’s fine. I told him to fuck off, and that was the end of that.”

Sarah shakes her head, expression scrunching up in annoyance. “If men are gonna have one thing, it’s the fucking audacity.”

Kie nods as Isla chuckles. “Tell me about it,” she says, just as her skin prickles with awareness. Her gaze wanders until it lands on Rafe, back on the porch with his friends, and Isla bites the inside of her cheek as his gaze seems to find hers in that moment, too. They lock eyes on opposite sides of the party, and her belly flips as that dizzying kiss replays in her mind on a loop.

She has to look away before anyone notices, tuning back into the conversation with Kie and Sarah while trying not to think of Rafe. But it doesn’t help that he watches her from wherever he is throughout the party, a secret just between them in a crowd full of people, but theirs to keep. For now, at least.

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abzania · 6 months ago

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Okay, I want to rant about something that seems to confuse so many people in the puzzle solving/fantasy genre. The "One tells the truth, and one tells a lie," thing. Most people ask a yes or no question (looking at you Sarah from The Labyrinth), but that is never stated as part of the rules. It drives me up the wall because the solution is SO SIMPLE.

All you have to do is ask is a question you know the answer to. I would go with a question that has an unchangeable answer. Like "What is 2 + 2?"

One would say "4," and the other would say something like, "5." Super easy! I've seen people debate over this like it's some sort of complicated riddle when, in reality, it's the easiest thing in the world.

I've been pondering over this for years as a fan of fantasy and The Labyrinth (where I came across this puzzle in the first place). It makes no sense to me to ask a yes or no question. Not when the solution is obvious.

It would be different if the yes or no question part was EVER established as an actual rule, but in every context I've seen this puzzle in, it is literally never said. That would be a different matter entirely, but as it is, the answer is easy.

Rant over.

#puzzle #puzzle solving #the labyrinth #i hate you sarah you've been killing me over this for years #this is spurred on by a youtube short with this puzzle in it #based on a d&d game i think #maybe this spoils the fun but it's so stupid it makes me angry #why doesn't anyone ever think of this #i'm usuing this someday #i'm gonna write a story with this puzzle #just so i can shove the solution in everyone's faces #*using #goddammit

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justagalwhowrites · 1 year ago

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New in Town - Ch. 4: First Cookout

Sarah invites you to Joel's place to celebrate the last night she's in town. A continuation of New in Town chapters 1-3 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Best Friend's Dad!Joel Miller x Female Reader

CW: Smut. Because obviously smut. It's these two, they fuck. No use of Y/N. Age gap (reader is 35 Joel is 47, not a focus of the fic). Minors DNI, 18+ only

Length: 5.8k

AO3 | First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

“And this is going to be your desk,” you smiled, excited but keeping your voice down. Sarah made a quiet squeal back at you. “See, I can see you from my desk so you can make faces at me while I’m dealing with the boring accounts people. I’m manifesting it, I swear I am.”

“I’m seriously about to make a fucking moodboard if it’ll help,” she sat on the desk, her legs dangling over the edge. “I miss Austin. I didn’t think I’d miss it this much but I really do. Seattle was way more fun when you were there, now all I do is try to convince myself that my job is totally worth the 500 days of rain we get every year.”

You laughed.

“Something tells me it’s not quite that many.”

“Feels like that many,” she rolled her eyes. “Now please. I need BBQ.”

You shook your head and laughed before heading to the elevators to go to lunch with your best friend.

Joel had texted you a warning with his usual good morning text that day.

“Good morning, Beautiful,” he wrote. “Really miss feeling you right before I fall asleep. Please tell me you’re not busy tomorrow night. Heads up, expect Sarah to drop in on you today. I have to be at a site for a few hours and she mentioned stopping by your office. She’ll probably invite you to the cookout we’re having tonight - up to you if you want to come.”

You frowned when you read it. “Up to you if you want to come.” What the fuck did that mean?

“Miss feeling you too,” you added a heart emoji. “Only plans I have for tomorrow night involve you ripping my clothes off.”

You rapped your nails against your phone, waiting to see if he’d text back before you started getting ready for the day but he didn’t. You sighed. He probably had to be on site early and couldn’t use his phone.

“Goddammit,” you muttered, putting your face in your pillow and groaning. How were you supposed to navigate this?

Did Joel want you to come but was trying to keep the pressure off? Did he not want you anywhere near him when Sarah was in town?

Yes, he’d spent a fair bit of time fucking your brains out over the past few weeks but, in reality, he wasn’t anything to you. He was a guy you’d gone out with once, he wasn’t your boyfriend, he didn’t have to invite you over for anything let alone something that might make him feel uncomfortable because you were friends with his kid. Even though, to you, he felt like so much more than some guy you were fucking. So, so much more.

And also your best friend’s dad.

Because fate was a cruel, cruel thing.

You checked your phone every few minutes as you got ready for work but the messages sat on delivered. You sighed and resisted the urge to text again and just kept checking your phone every few minutes in your office, too.

“Wouldn’t argue with some help in the clothing removal department,” he wrote. “I’m going to want you naked fast. Requesting something with easy access so I can get inside you ASAP.”

You smiled and shook your head a little.

“Still warm enough for a sundress,” you sent a winky face emoji with that and briefly considered going to the bathroom to take a selfie that involved an unprofessional amount of cleavage.

“Jesus Christ,” he sent back. “Pull me in a restroom wearing one of those and we’re not stopping at you humping my leg.”

“Counting on it,” you wrote, smiling a little wider before deciding to just bite the bullet. “Did you want me to go tonight? If Sarah asks?”

“What’s go you smiling so big?”

You almost jumped out of your skin when you saw Sarah leaning against the doorframe to your office.

“Good lord, girl, we gotta put a bell on you,” you smiled anyway, being sure to lock your phone before getting up to hug her. “What are you doing here?”

“My dad had some client issue so I figure I’d come visit my bestie,” she gave you a squeeze before stepping back from you. “Plus I’m dying to see where I’m going to commute to every day once they finally let me come here.”

Sarah picked the restaurant, a BBQ place that wasn’t far from your office and only offered wooden picnic tables sitting under a rusted metal awning for seating.

“Oh this is going to be good shit,” you said, taking a deep breath, the smell of smoked meat heavy on the air. “I can tell.”

“Knew you’d love this place,” she smiled. “Kind of surprised my dad hasn’t taken you here already, actually.”

You froze for half a second before regaining your composure.

“We’ve only gone out the one time since the first time we met up,” you shrugged. “Can’t exactly show me the entire city in that time.”

The two of you got in line, the place starting to get crowded now that it was pushing noon.

“I know,” she rolled her eyes. “I just really thought you guys would hit it off I guess.”

Well you’d definitely done that.

“Does it really bother you that I’m not hitting the town with your dad more?” You asked, teasing.

“Kind of, actually,” she laughed. “You know those stupid TV episodes they do where the cast of one show goes on another show?”

“The crossover ones?” You frowned.”

“Right,” she nodded. The line moved and the two of you stepped forward. “This was like… my real life crossover episode and it just kinda flopped. Like my two favorite characters finally were in the same place and just didn’t have the chemistry for good TV.”

Yeah, chemistry? Not your issue with Joel.

“I’ll be sure to lodge your complaint with the writers,” you said dryly. “Tell them to get their shit together.”

You talked Sarah into ordering the meats you didn’t so you could try at least a bite of everything and you were almost uncomfortably full when you dropped your final wet napkin on the butcher paper covered tray in front of you.

“Oh, hey, meant to ask you before,” she said, polishing off her Dr. Pepper. “Did you have any plans tonight? My dad caved and is grilling out. My Uncle Tommy is coming over, his wife Maria, a few neighbors who have known me since I was in diapers and who can tell you every embarrassing thing I’ve ever done…”

“I don’t think they can tell me about the time you got drunk at karaoke night and tried to take the mic from that guy who was making an ass of himself,” you smirked.

Sarah groaned, throwing her head back and laughing.

“Oh my God, I forgot about that!”

You laughed, too, and took a second to check your phone to see if Joel had gotten back to you.

He had.

“Love for you to come,” he wrote. “Just going to be hell keeping my hands to myself all night. But would rather do that than not see you.”

You smiled a little and put your phone down.

“Yeah, I’ll come,” you said. “Just tell me what I can bring.”

You were almost giddy by the time you got home. It’s not like you’d seen Joel every day since you’d met him but the option always felt like it was there. You’d only texted a bit since the phone sex Sunday and it felt like it had been eons since you’d gotten to touch him. You wondered if it would be weird if you gave him a hug when Sarah was there. You could get away with a hug, right?

You pulled out a few outfit options, trying to find something that would make Joel want to check you out but not look like you were trying to get him to check you out. You pulled the shirts out and hung them on your floor length mirror so they were next to each other when you got an idea.

You stripped out of your work clothes and changed into your favorite matching bra and panty set, standing in front of the mirror with the shirts still hanging on it, arranging yourself so you could see your body between the clothes. You took a picture.

“Which shirt for tonight?” You typed, sending the picture to Joel.

He responded while you were jumping into your jeans, the denim tight on your thighs and hips.

“You’re cruel, you know that right?” He wrote. “I vote green. Feel like you’ll cause less trouble in the green.”

The green was a little tamer, you supposed. The v-neck wasn’t quite as low, the eyelet lace softer and almost girlish. You smiled a little.

“You’re right,” you wrote back. “Black it is.”

Black was a wrap top, with a deeper v-neck, something that would highlight your curves even more. And give Joel easy access.

“You’re a menace,” he texted.

“I know :)”

You got dressed and stopped by HEB on your way over, picking up a dozen bottles of Shiner. You’d had to consciously toe the line of trying without trying too hard and you stomach was in knots as you walked up to his front door. What if your hair or your makeup or your shoes or the tightness of your jeans screamed “I’m fucking the man who lives in this house”?

But you took a deep breath and rang the doorbell anyway. It didn’t take long for it Sarah to rip it open with a squeal, pulling you inside.

“I’m so glad you came!” She said, jumping a little as she pulled away from you. “This is going to be so much fun, I promise. See, we’re going to do shit like this all the time when I move down here. We gotta manifest it, girl, I’m telling you. It’s even more fun when it’s summer and people want to swim because getting drunk in a pool that’s not open to every other idiot in your apartment complex is seriously the best pass time.”

“I can only imagine,” you smiled. “And, I brought beer!”

You held up the six packs just as Joel went rushing past, on his way to the kitchen. But he doubled back and stopped, a slow smile spreading across his face as he looked you up and down from over Sarah’s shoulder. You smirked just a little and he shook his head slightly, smiling.

“Good to see you,” he said, stepping around Sarah for a somewhat awkward hug. He lowered his voice, his lips next to your ear, speaking so softly you could barely hear him. “Menace.”

He stepped back and you smiled wider.

“Good to see you, too.”

Joel took the beers from your hands and his eyes lingered a little too long on your chest - not that you were arguing.

“Come on,” Sarah slipped her hand into yours. “I want you to meet everybody!”

She tugged you along behind her to the backyard, you giving Joel an apologetic smirk over your shoulder, people standing in little clusters around the pool. You spotted Joel’s brother immediately, the resemblance hard to miss. He was standing next to a beautiful woman with braids half way down her back, his arm around her waist. You smiled a little. You remembered dropping Sarah off at the airport when she flew down the year before for her uncle’s wedding.

“Have fun!” You said, putting her duffle bag on her shoulder as your car sat with the emergency flashers on in the loading zone.

“Yeah, this is going to be a disaster,” she said. “There’s no way they’re making it down the aisle. I haven’t met Maria but it’s Tommy. He’s jumped from woman to woman since before I was born, the day he settles down is the day hell freezes over.”

When you picked her up again three days later, she had a different story.

“So did they actually get hitched?” You asked as she flopped heavily into the passenger seat.

“Holy shit, they did. She is the only woman on the planet who could actually get him to settle down,” she said. “And by some miracle, she wanted to. No accounting for taste with some people…”

You laughed and headed to your favorite bar to hear all about it. You hadn’t really expected to ever really meet him except maybe in passing at Sarah’s wedding one day. Now you were meeting him in your - boyfriend’s? Fuck buddy’s? Who knows what’s? - backyard.

“Tommy, Maria!” Sarah called as the two of you worked your way around the pool. “Got someone for you to meet, she’s new in town and in desperate need of social contacts.”

She made the introductions and Tommy laughed when he heard your name.

“The infamous best friend,” he smiled, pulling you in for a hug. “She as bad an influence on you as she was on me?”

“Oh shut up,” she rolled her eyes.

“She talked me into grand larceny once,” Tommy said, pointing accusingly at Sarah with the beer bottle in his hand.

“Did she now?” You asked, brows raised.

“Oh yes,” he nodded, smiling cheekily. “She was seven and Joel said she couldn’t have all her Halloween candy on Halloween…”

“A crime, really,” she smiled, grabbing Tommy’s beer and taking a drink before giving it back.

“And she was so cute, these big eyes and her little princess costume and her hair going in about a million different directions…”

“Yeah, Dad hadn’t figured out how to handle that yet,” she laughed a little.

“I caved,” Tommy said. “I put up a valiant fight…”

“You said yes immediately!” Sarah scoffed. “I barely even had to pout…”

“She was a monster,” Tommy cut her off. “I was at her mercy, I swear!”

“And then what happened?” Joel asked, joining your little circle with two beers in hand. He wordlessly pressed one into your palm. You smiled a little at him and he brushed his hand down your spine on his way to putting it in his back pocket. “C’mon, you two partners in crime, finish that story. What happened?”

“Nothing that bad,” Tommy waved him off.

“Yeah, it was fine,” Sarah said. “No lasting damage…”

“For you two maybe,” Joel laughed. “I was the one who was up until 3 in the morning washing all her bedding and scrubbin’ the wall of her room because she projectile vomited three pounds of candy like she was starring in the damn Exorcist.”

You laughed as Sarah and Tommy both tried to downplay it and Maria just lovingly patted her husband’s shoulder, rolling her eyes. While everyone was distracted, you snuck a look at Joel. Just a second to actually look at his face as he laughed and smiled with his family. It was a little unfair, how good looking he was. Somehow both rugged and soft, handsome and beautiful and you had to resist the urge to reach up and twist your fingers in his slightly unruly curls. You looked back at Sarah before anyone said anything and took a sip of beer.

Sarah got sidetracked talking with Tommy and you took advantage of it, leaning in to whisper in Joel’s ear.

“You’re really hot,” you said quietly. “Also, I got you a present, it’s in my purse.”

“Oh really?” He raised his eyebrows, a devious look on his face.

You rolled your eyes.

“Not that exciting,” you said.

“What are you two conspiring about?” Maria asked and you almost flinched as Tommy and Sarah turned their attention to you.

“Just how to get this one to stop meddlin’,” Joel said smoothly, nodding to his daughter.

“I do not meddle,” she replied. “I just nudge people in the right direction. Because I’m smarter than them.”

You got along well with Joel’s brother and sister-in-law. Tommy seemed more like a big brother to Sarah than an uncle, which made sense when they talked about her childhood years. Tommy was six years younger than Joel, just 16 when Sarah came into the world. So while he adored his niece, he wasn’t exactly mature enough to be a parent-like figure. It sounded like he’d helped his brother out a lot but had been more of a friend to Sarah than anything else.

You liked watching her and Joel with their friends and family, the easy familiarity of it all, the comfort of having history with people. It was something that was missing from your life.

Sure, you liked your life. You liked it quite a bit, actually. You had a job you enjoyed that paid you good money, you’d lived in some interesting places - Seattle, three years in New York City, an internship in Chicago, even Washington D.C. for a bit - and you could do just about whatever you wanted whenever you wanted. That was the beauty of not having anything to tie you down. The cost just meant not having roots and, sometimes, that hurt.

Joel disappeared inside at one point and, after taking quick stock of the backyard to make sure no one else was inside with him, you followed. You slipped into the entry and grabbed your purse, pulling out the bag of Fire Sour Patch Kids you’d seen in the candy aisle on your way to grab beer when you stopped at the store earlier that day.

Joel was in the kitchen cutting vegetables for burger toppings and you climbed on the counter next to the cutting board. He looked up at you out of the corner of his eye, trying to hide his smile while he shook his head.

“Meant what I said about you bein’ a menace,” he said, his eyes on the knife. “You’re torture. Beautiful torture but torture.”

“We aim to please,” you smiled, holding out the candy. He frowned for a second, drying his hands on his jeans, before he laughed and took the bag. “Warned you it wasn’t exciting…”

“This is great, Beautiful,” he leaned in and kissed you lightly, like it was an automatic thing, as though you did this in his kitchen all the time. “Been wantin’ to try these and then I never buy the damn things….”

“I’ll help you eat them if they suck,” you smiled. “And you can help me eat them if they don’t.”

He smiled again and moved in front of you, nudging your legs apart so he was standing between your thighs and he leaned in and kissed you - really kissed you. His tongue dipped into your mouth, his hands sliding up your legs to your waist as he tugged you closer. You draped your arms over his shoulders and pressed yourself against him and savored his touch. Fuck, you’d missed this. It had only been a few days but it felt like an eternity of him being out of reach and it was almost reassuring to feel the way his hands fit against your body even after some time apart.

“Fuck, you’re trouble,” he was breathless when he pulled away from you, his hands still on your body. “Just couldn’t wear the green, could ya?”

“And miss out on this?” You teased, running your fingers through his hair. “Never.”

Sarah sat between the two of you at dinner, the best spot for you and Joel to be in when you thought about it. Next to you was too much temptation, you’d end up touching each other and then not be able to help yourselves and that was bad.

Across wasn’t great, either, as you’d discovered at dinner the other night. If you could just check each other out the whole night, that wasn’t the safe way to go. Not to mention the opportunities for playing footsie under the table.

No no, you needed a better way to keep your hands to yourselves and Sarah was a great barrier for that - both literally and metaphorically - and you managed to get through the meal without any big slip ups. Something you were pretty damn proud of, if you did say so yourself.

You excused yourself to the bathroom as things were in that easy after dinner conversation stage of the evening, everyone pleasantly full and a little drunk, Sarah laughing with a neighbor from down the street whose name you’d forgotten. But when you opened the bathroom door to head back outside, Joel was there, pushing you back into the room and closing the door behind him.

“Joel!” You hissed, his hands on your waist.

“You really can’t expect me to wait when you show up lookin’ this damn good,” he growled, boosting you up so you were perched on the edge of the sink. “Everyone’s too busy to even notice we’re gone…”

His mouth found your neck and your chest as he untied your top, his tongue and teeth ranging over your skin and you couldn’t help but moan at his attention, your body already feeling warm and wanting. Joel stepped back from you a he fully opened your shirt, revealing your body to him as though it were some wondrous thing, moaning as he did.

“Fuck Beautiful,” his hands trailed up your exposed skin to cup your breasts through your bra. “Ain’t fair how one person can look this damn good…”

“Had to pull you away from the grill somehow,” you smiled, tugging him back against you and kissing him. He kissed you back, getting more and more desperate as he did. He pulled your breasts free of their cups so he could suck at them and hold them in his large hands, moaning into you. Your hands ran down his body to find his cock hard in his jeans, feeling him through the fabric, desperately wishing you could just rip all his clothes off and get him inside you.

“Think you can come from just your clit?” He asked, breathless, as he licked and sucked your neck.

“Yes,” you moaned. “Think you can come from just my hand?”

“It’d take less than that,” he panted as he opened your jeans and slid his hand inside as best he could, his finger finding your clit quickly. He ghosted over it with his finger, making you squirm and moan. “Fuck, Beautiful, you close already?”

“Maybe,” you panted as he pressed a little harder against the sensitive nub. You reached down to pull out his cock to start jerking him off but he caught your hand. You whined a little.

“Not yet,” he kissed back up to your mouth, holding his lips a fraction of an inch away from yours. “Lemme take care of you…”

He kissed you then, his tongue slipping into you as his finger pressed into your clit. You groaned and rocked your hips on him and you felt him smile against your lips. He started rubbing you in slow, aching circles, adding a little pressure every time around, matching his kiss to the pace of his fingers. You moaned desperately against him and he picked up his pace, working you over until you were gasping into his mouth while you came from his fingers.

“Fuck,” you panted as Joel slipped his hand from your pants. “How are you so goddamn good at that?”

“You’re so pretty when you come it’s easy to remember what does it,” he replied, stepping back from you. You slid off the sink but, instead of fixing your bra and closing your shirt, you dropped to your knees and started unzipping his fly. “Baby…”

“I can be quick,” you said, looking up at him through your eyelashes as you freed his cock. You never really got used to hot big he was - thick, heavy, long. But you’d be fine choking on him if it meant making him come.

You started by licking his head and he let out a shuddering little moan and you smiled a little, lapping at the dripping pre-come at his slit like he was your favorite flavor of ice cream. Which, he kind of was. Heady and masculine and Joel, knowing that he was dripping because of you made you want him even more.

Instead of taking the more gradual route, you took him into your mouth and throat all at once, having to swallow around the head of him as he pushed past your gag reflex. His hand flew to your head, fingers twisting in your hair and sinking into the thin layer of flesh over your skull.

“Oh fuck,” he panted. “Oh my fucking god…..”

You sucked him and moaned, the vibration of your vocal chords working the tip of him as it was lodged in your throat. You pressed your tongue against the thick vein that ran along the underside of him before you started pulling back, his grip on your head relaxing just enough to let you do it. You worked is cock up and down, sucking and licking and taking him into your mouth until you started to cough. He panted and moaned as you worked him until, eventually, he was clinging to the sink to stay upright.

“Fuck, please Baby, I need to come,” he groaned. You smiled as much as you could when your mouth was full of his thick cock. “Lemme… can I…”

You looked up at him, eyes wide, as you slid down him so he was buried in your mouth to the root and you hummed your approval. His hands immediately flew to your head and he started fucking into your mouth. You took it, swallowing past your gag reflex with each deep stroke. He didn’t last long, just a few pumps, before he was spilling into you, moaning quietly as he did. You swallowed it all, his cock so deep in your throat you could barely even taste him as he pumped his come into you.

“Fuck,” he all but collapsed against the sink and you carefully slid his cock from your mouth and got up, wiping your mouth on the back of your wrist. You adjusted your bra and tied your shirt again.

“Worth it?” You teased.

“Jesus Christ woman,” he groaned. “You’re gonna kill me.”

You smiled and kissed his cheek before you went to leave the bathroom but he grabbed your arm, pulling you back against him to kiss you deep and long. You tried to hide your surprise. Other guys you’d been with weren’t huge on kissing you after you went down on them. Joel didn’t seem to mind. But then, Joel just wasn’t like other men. You smiled as you pulled back from him and he laughed a little.

“What?” You frowned.

“We made a mess of your makeup,” he jerked his head toward the mirror, tucking his cock back in his pants as you checked your reflection. Your lipstick had smeared and you laughed a little, too.

“Good thing I have more in my bag,” you said, grabbing a sheet of toilet paper and cleaning up what you could. “See you back out there?”

“Once I remember how to walk again,” he teased.

It was sheer luck that Maria came in to use the bathroom as you adjusted your lipstick in the entryway mirror and not a few minutes earlier and you popped a breath mint so you could think about something besides the fact that the last thing in your mouth had been Joel’s cock when you talked with Sarah.

You left only about an hour later, giving Sarah a long hug as she walked you to your car.

“I’ll be back again soon for Thanksgiving,” she smiled, squeezing you tight. “Just manifest with me!”

“I’m manifesting so hard I might break something,” you smiled back, trying to ignore the knot of guilt in your stomach about hiding something so big from her.

“And seriously,” she said, stepping back from you. “If you need a friend before I get down here…”

“Call the whole Miller clan,” you smiled. “I got it.”

“Good,” she said. “We’ll just make a Miller out of you yet.”

You tried to ignore how your heart skipped a beat at the thought of that.

“Sounds good to me.”

Joel came straight to your place after dropping Sarah off at the airport the next night. You answered the door in a sundress - as promised - expecting to go to dinner.

Which, in hindsight, was foolish.

“Fuck,” you said, looking Joel up and down. He had flowers. He was in a plain, dark t-shirt that was tight around his biceps, his jeans hanging just right on his hips.

“What?” He frowned.

“Just get in here and let me fuck you,” you said, grabbing his shirt and pulling him into your apartment.

The flowers were quickly abandoned on the breakfast bar in your kitchen as you kissed him, tugging his shirt off and casting it aside before you dragged him to the bedroom.

“We gotta eat at some point tonight, Baby,” he said between kisses as you shoved him down on the bed.

“That’s fine,” you panted, stepping out of your panties and casting them aside. “We can do this twice.”

“Fuck, you’re fucking perfect,” he said, lifting his hips so he could slide his pants down a little and sitting so his back was against your headboard. He started working his cock, already hard in the palm of his hand. You straddled him, the skirt of your dress hiding your dripping pussy and his leaking cock from view. He kept one hand on his cock but the other went to your hips as you lowered yourself toward him until your pussy brushed his thick head. “Oh shit, fuck Beautiful, I need… Fuck, need inside you, I need to be inside you…”

“I know,” you breathed before sinking onto his cock with a shaking moan. His other hand flew to your waist, too, pulling you down on him so his whole length was sheathed within you. You panted for breath as your body adjusted to the intrusion. “I need you, too.”

“Fuck,” his head fell back against the headboard. “Fuck, you feel so fucking good every time, s’like I belong in this pussy, like your pussy was made to take this cock.”

“Made to ride this cock,” you moaned, starting to rise and fall over him with a satisfied groan. Joel somehow hit all the right angles inside you, the thickness of his shaft stretching you deliciously, his head finding the sensitive place deep inside you and pressing against it, making your pussy start to tighten around him.

“Oh shit,” his grip on you got firmer, his fingers sinking into the soft flesh of you. “Want you to come on this cock, Beautiful. Want you to use me to get yourself off, fuck, Baby, make yourself come on my cock…”

You buried your face in his neck and breathed in his deep, clean, masculine scent and started riding him harder, adjusting your hips so your clit was leaving an obscene, messy streak of your slick up and down his bare stomach. You licked and sucked at his neck as you rode him, fucking down on him hard and fast and grinding your clit against him. As your body tightened, you sat up straighter, pressing your forehead to his own so you could see his face, the liquid heat in you centering around where he was inside you until you came with a desperate moan around him.

“There we go,” he almost sounded like he was in pain he was so desperate. “Fuck, you come so fuckin’ pretty Baby, so goddamn pretty. Feel so good, coming on my cock, better than anything else, fuck Beautiful, I can’t…”

Joel took control of your hips then, pumping you up and down his shaft and you tried to help as best you could as you rode out your orgasm. His hips fucked up into you hard and fast until he was emptying himself into you, moaning as he did.

You collapsed on top of him, panting for breath and he went from holding your hips to wrapping his arms around you, holding you close to him. You stayed like that for a few minutes, your breaths synchronizing as you both came back down from our highs.

“So,” you said, breathing not quite back to normal yet. “Dinner?”

He laughed.

“Dinner.”

When you fell asleep in Joel’s arms that night, all naked and entwined with him, you were starting to think that you could get used to this. That you wanted to do this all the time, every day. Do all of life’s stupid little things with him, go grocery shopping with him and pay the water bill with him and deal with traffic jams with him.

You just weren’t sure how to talk about that yet.

But that was OK. You were getting there, you could tell.

When Joel kissed you goodbye in the morning, he brushed your hair back from your forehead so he could kiss you there too.

“Leaving already?” You mumbled.

“‘Fraid so,” he said softly. “Need to get an early start at the job site. Can I see you tonight?”

You just hummed in response. He frowned.

“That’s a yes, I hope,” he said. You nodded and you opened your eyes just enough to see him smile broadly. “I’ll text you. Have a good day, Baby.”

“You too,” you mumbled into your pillow.

When you got up an hour later, there was a sticky note on your coffee maker, telling you to check your fridge. Inside was an iced latte from the coffee shop down the street and you smiled so big it was hard to do your makeup as you got ready to go.

You were still on cloud nine when you were getting ready to take a client to lunch that afternoon, doing a last check of your makeup when you got a call from the reception desk downstairs.

“Someone’s here for you,” the receptionist sounded skeptical. “I’m not letting him back without you.”

“No problem,” you laughed. “We’re going off site for lunch, tell him I’ll be down in a minute.”

You went to the lobby, looking for someone who at least vaguely resembled the headshot from your client’s website when you did a double take.

The man sitting on the couch in reception smiled when he saw you and your heart sank into your stomach as he headed for you.

“Hey Angel,” he smiled.

You couldn’t smile back.

“Shit.”

Next Chapter

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #smut fic #new in town #joel miller x oc

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lightofraye · 3 months ago

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Wales Comic Con (Part One)

Honestly, so much has happened, I don't know if I'll ever be able to capture it in its entirety. I know, a 50-minute panel and just a ton of photos, shouldn't be that hard to cover, right? You'd be surprised.

It's taking second and third looks at the photos. Finding tweets, posts, etc, by fans about the event. Listening to the panel alone will take days. Especially as there's making sure we understand what was said, who said it, and so on.

Then there were the surprising post-panel photos that we didn't see until later. Such as the Ackles stopping by the Sheppard's place in England before the Ackles split up and heading to their respective destinations.

Jensen went alone to Austin to likely rest up and prepare for an intense time at the convention. Danneel went to do whatever the hell she does, while I'm sure the kids went with the nanny back to Connecticut.

First impressions?

Jensen looked stressed. Tired. The tension was painfully obvious, though he tried at times with some fans, judging from the photos I've managed to see and find. There was one known wildly inappropriate moment with a fan for a photo shoot and I could not believe that they tried to ask Jensen to do this.

He is not your fucking monkey to pose and dance and sing as you like, goddammit.

And for everyone who claimed to be a fan, I saw way too many completely missing all the signs of exhaustion, stress, and strain. I mean...

His jaw is so tense it's completely changed the shape of his face. That smile isn't genuine, and more like a clenched jaw situation.

But sure. He's doing great. (Did you hear the sarcasm in that?)

Danneel also just does not look great. Layers and layers of makeup, to the point where you can't even see her skin texture (which is normal, by the way!). Also, why was she wearing a turtleneck and long coat and everything when it was warm as hell, according to followers who lived in the UK region? Yes, yes, Jensen wore long sleeves on Saturday, but it looked thin and lighter compared to what Danneel wore.

Also: Danneel... honey? The 80s called, they want their shoulder pads back.

Not even the group photo with the panel changed much. (Though, hilariously, a number of people thought Samantha Smith was younger than Danneel and that Danneel was in her 50s.)

Nor did the trip at the Sheppard's. Jensen still had that tension. Even Sarah had this... odd placement of her hand on Danneel's shoulder, as if twitching in discomfort.

Only once Jensen was at the airport and the two fan photos surfaced, did I see a bit of relaxation. It's still too obvious in between his brows, though. I hope some real rest, peace, and his true friend, Jared, will he be able to relax.

#anti danneel #anti elta #jensen supportive #jensen concern #my first con review part one #my thoughts on wales comic con

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cowgurrrl · 1 year ago

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Chosen to Deserve

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader (plus platonic!Ellie Williams x fem!reader)

Summary: “How can I teach her some way of being human that won’t destroy her? I would like to tell her, Love is enough, I would like to say, Find shelter in another skin. I would like to say, Dance and be happy. Instead I will say in my crone’s voice, Be ruthless when you have to, tell the truth when you can, when you can see it.” - Margaret Atwood [3.6k]

Warnings: all the drama of coming into Jackson, sibling turmoil, talks of Sarah and Jane, arguing, reader and Joel are both kinda dicks in this one but I get it

You hear the horses hooves before Joel can. You grab Ellie's arm and turn to run in the opposite direction when another masked person on a horse comes running up. At least a dozen of them flanking you on both sides and they all have weapons pulled. You don't even try to reach for your gun, and Joel does the same, pushing Ellie and you behind him and raising his hands. You and Ellie follow suit but keep her close enough for your hands to brush against each other. Her breathing is uneven and scared. Joel and one of the men have a conversation, but you can't focus on it. All you care about is Ellie. The man Joel was talking to gestures his gun at her.

"Take five steps back."

"She's not going anywhere." You say, and Joel mumbles your name.

"Shut the fuck up." The man spits.

"Easy," Joel jumps in. You don't know whether he's talking to you or the horseman, but you glare at him anyway. He ignores it and looks past you at Ellie, nodding at her. "You'll be okay." He says. She looks at you for confirmation, and your jaw clenches, but you nod at her scared eyes.

"Do what they say." You say gently, and she carefully takes several steps back. You turn your head to watch her, but a gun cocking turns your attention back to the people surrounding you. The man who told you to shut the fuck up is staring at you through squinted eyes, his shotgun pointed in your direction. You get the message. But she's too far away. You can't even see her in the corner of your eye. You want to grab her wrist and bring her back to you, but you don't move. The man whistles, and a dog appears out of nowhere. You can't remember the last time you saw a dog that wasn't feral.

"Last chance for a bullet," he says. "If you've been infected, he'll smell it, and he'll rip you apart." The dog barks and thrashes against the leash, and you hear Ellie gasp in fear. Goddammit, you think as the dog slinks over to Joel, smelling his shoes. There's no way out. You're too slow, and there are too many guns. You'd barely get your hands on your weapon before they'd kill you.

The dog jumps up on Joel and rears her head back. No one shoots. It must be her clear signal. The dog is called back before she's rereleased, this time to smell you. She repeats the action, and your shoulders drop.

"Satisfied?" You ask, and Joel says your name again like he's scolding you.

"One more." The man says as he rereleases the dog. She starts walking toward Ellie, and your heart beats in your face. You can hear her feet shuffling backward in the snow, and the dog growls at her. Your ears ring as you wait for the dog to knock her to the ground or worse. A bark pierces the air, and Joel jolts with the sound, but Ellie's laugh stops you from running toward her. You turn and see her giggling in the snow with the dog licking her face, completely safe. The dog is called back, and Ellie makes her way back to you. Nobody cocks a gun or yells at her to stop.

"You just bought yourself ten more seconds," the man says. "What are you doing out here?"

"I'm just lookin' for my brother," Joel says. A woman makes her horse walk forward, and you tuck Ellie behind you.

"I'm okay." She whispers, but you don't say anything. You just watch Joel and the woman. She asks his name, and he tells her. She turns back to the man who yelled at you and says something you can't quite hear.

"Lower your weapons!" The woman yells. No one even flinches or tries to question her. They just do it. "We're taking them back with us."

In a few minutes, you're each given a horse and are told to follow the group. The journey "back" to wherever they're leading you takes about ten minutes, and the massive fort-like gate leaves you speechless. Joel glances back at you and Ellie and raises his eyebrows as if to say, "getta loada this shit." You shake your head and glance at Ellie, who has a ghost of a smirk on her lips.

Once you're through the gate, a small city reveals itself. There are people. Like, lots of people. None of them show weapons or look up when you pass. You even see small kids chasing each other with pink cheeks and too-big hats. You can't look at them for too long. There are stores full of food and warm clothes, shoemakers, fucking ironsmiths. You almost think you've fallen into an alternate dimension. You and Joel seem to land on the same person as you get further into town.

He has long curly hair and a dark mustache though he has the same patches Joel has in his beard. They hold themselves the same way, you realize. Like there's too much weight on their backs, but they're doing their best to hold it anyways. He looks good. Healthy. Definitely not in whatever danger you and Joel thought he was in the whole time. Joel calls his name, and Tommy comes bounding down the scaffolding and into his older brother's arms. It's sweet and, by the looks of it, desperately needed by both of the men.

You turn to look at Ellie and see her looking a little lost and the tiniest bit jealous as she watches the teary reunion. You nudge her with your elbow and mouth, "What a baby" to get her to smile. She gives you a small one but falls back into her pensiveness. You slide off your horse to shake Tommy's hand and introduce yourself.

"And this is Ellie," you say, gesturing to Ellie. She smiles and waves but doesn't get off her horse.

"Y'all hungry?" Tommy asks, and that gets Ellie's attention. She finally comes down to the ground, and you all walk to the dining hall.

It's the first hot meal you've had in months. You do your best not to scarf the food down like you want to and keep your manners around Tommy and Maria. Ellie, however, doesn't really care. Joel tries to correct her, and you give him a look.

What? His raised eyebrows ask.

Leave her alone. You jerk your head in her direction.

Look at her. He widens his eyes.

Stop. You roll your eyes and look at Tommy with a smile.

"So, how long have you been in Jackson?" You ask, and he takes a deep breath.

"Uh, a few years now. I bounced around for a while before settlin' here." He says with a soft smile that reminds you of early mornings with Joel. You have to look away.

"Ma'am, we're grateful for your hospitality and all, but it'd be nice to have a moment here just for family," Joel says, looking at Maria pointedly. You elbow him in the ribs, and he gives you another look.

"What?" He hisses.

"You're being rude." You whisper.

"You fuckin' hit me."

"Actually, uh..." Tommy says, reaching for Maria's left hand to bring the matching wedding rings to your attention for the first time. "Maria is family."

It's been a long day. You haven't seen Joel since he and Tommy disappeared into the bar this afternoon. Maria showed you and Ellie an available house you can stay in for the entirety of your time in Jackson, however long. She's been nice to Ellie, but she's made it clear she doesn't care for you or Joel. You're sure she's heard stories from Tommy about Joel and, therefore, can make assumptions about you. Still, she hasn't said anything explicit to you. You expect there to be a fight, though. There's no way there won't be one.

After you take showers and put down your heavy packs, Maria silently takes you to watch a movie in the same place you ate lunch. About halfway through, you glance at Ellie, settled in a chair, and decide to sneak out to the general store for supplies. It takes longer than you thought it would, but you find a new hat and gloves for Ellie. It'll be worth it for when you have to get back on the road. You’re excited to show her but she’s locked in her room when you returned to the house. You try getting her to talk to you, but she doesn’t even open the door. She just yells at you to ask Joel.

"Do you wanna tell me why Ellie is sulking in her room?" You ask as you turn the corner and walk into what used to be the primary bedroom. You find him sitting on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands.

"We got in a fight," he grumbles, pulling his head out of his hands to look at you. "Doesn't matter. Tommy's takin’ her to the Fireflies in the morning."

"What?" You ask. What the fuck did they talk about while they were alone?

"She'll be safer with him. Tommy knows Jackson better than anybody. It's better this way."

"I'm sure his pregnant wife would disagree with you."

"Don't start with that."

"This isn't Tommy's fight, and you know that. He doesn't even know about her and-"

"I told him," he says. You blink at him as you try to wrap your brain around what he just said. Anger rolls through you. It wasn't his place to tell Tommy without consulting you first. He can't keep making decisions about her without talking to you. "I told him everythin’, and he agreed to do it. Said it would take him a few days, but he would be fine."

"You're serious." It's meant to be a question, but it sounds more like a statement. His eyes are heavy as he nods.

"We were gonna go our separate ways soon enough."

"You promised Tess."

"I said a lot of shit I didn't mean," he snaps. "You should go with 'em if you think it's so unsafe. I'm sure they could use the extra hands."

"And what're you gonna do?"

"Go back to Boston and forget this ever happened." He says without hesitation. The implication that you would be on his list of things to forget hits somewhere deep in your chest. You start pacing, unsure of what to do with the buzzing behind your molars.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Joel, really? You got into a fight with a fourteen-year-old, and now you're gonna hightail it back to Boston? Just like that?" You scoff, and he stands from his place on the bed, getting in your face. You square your shoulders in a silent dare.

"She brought up Sarah."

"And Jane," you say. "And Tess. And Bill and Frank. And Sam and Henry. You really wanna keep going? Because I can play this game all day."

"Tommy is takin' her to the Fireflies. End of story." He tries, and you squint at him.

"Oh, so you're abandoning her with someone else because it's more convenient for you? Sounds real familiar."

"Fuck you."

"Fuck me? I'm not the one going back to Boston because I'm afraid of a kid."

"It ain't about her. It's about Tommy-"

"Knowing this area better. I get it. But you know what he doesn't know? Ellie," you say. He wavers, stepping back a little, but you don't let him go that easy. "He doesn't know how to take care of her like you do. We've been traveling with her for six fucking months, and now you just want to dump her on someone else because it's hard? Because she brought up your kid? Huh?" You ask, but he doesn't say anything. He just stares past your face. "She's fourteen, Joel. Her job is to push your buttons just to see what comes out. She takes her anger out on you because she trusts you to handle it. She trusts you. We both do. But I swear to God, Joel, if you do this..." You're not sure what threat you wanted to tack onto the end of that sentence, but it dies in your throat. Your chest is pressed against his, and your breathing is ragged. You step away, finally, and make for the door.

Originally, you were going to sleep in bed with him. He even joked about it when Maria mentioned something about the house before you split off. Now, you'll sleep on the fucking couch if you have to. You're angry. You should be slamming doors and stomping down the stairs, but your hand lingers on the doorknob for some reason. You turn back to him.

"D'you really think you're the only person who hurts when you look at her?" You ask. "She... she is everything Jane will never be. I know that. But she's not Jane. And she's not Sarah. She's Ellie, and she needs help. If you can't handle that, then fine. Go back to Boston, but don't blame a kid for something you can't face."

Joel is gone by the time you wake up. No note. No goodbye. Nothing. He even made the bed, so there'd be absolutely no proof he was ever here. You want to fight with him again. You want to yell at each other until you figure it out or come to a place of understanding. You want him to want to figure it out with you. But the world has never been kind enough to care about what you want. So, you brush your teeth, wash your face, and push thoughts of Joel away. You have to get her to the Fireflies safely. One of you should fulfill the promise you made Tess.

When Tommy arrives on the doorstep with a sympathetic look and a rifle slung over his shoulder, you smile softly at him before opening the door wider. He shuts the door behind him as you move to the living room and pull your boots on. He walks over and plays with the blanket swung over the back of the couch.

"You know, there are beds upstairs." He says, and you nod.

"Joel and I got into a fight." You say. He's married. He should know how it goes.

"Seems to be a recurring theme with him."

"Yeah," you finish tying your bootlaces and sit back to look at him. "You really don't have to do this, you know."

"I know. I just... feel like I owe him," he shrugs, the rifle moving with his shoulders, and you sigh. "Plus, Maria's already mad at me bout it. Might as well finish it."

"Both the Miller men seem to be battin' a thousand this week." You laugh. There's movement upstairs, and you take a deep breath. Tommy reaches out and squeezes your shoulder, and you let him. In the twenty-four hours you've known him, you've realized Tommy is gentler, softer than Joel is. Still, Joel told you the stories of how the hot desert sun beat down on Tommy's baby face as he held a gun bigger than him. You know he's just as dangerous as Joel. You just wish Joel bore it as well as Tommy does.

"I should go talk to her." You mumble as you stand. He nods and wishes you good luck before walking up the stairs toward Ellie's room.

A closed door has never been as ominous as this one. You push through the pit of dread in your stomach and knock on the wood, only opening it when you receive a response. Then, like watching fall leaves, you watch her shoulders drop in disappointment. She thought—no, hoped— you were Joel. You walk over and sit next to her on the window seat, putting a hand on her knee and squeezing affectionately. You sit like that for a moment before Ellie frowns at you.

"I really thought he would change his mind." She whispers.

"Yeah, me too." You whisper back. She purses her lips and shakes her head like she's scolding herself for getting her hopes up. You squeeze her again, but she doesn't say anything. She just gets up, throws her backpack over her shoulders, and trudges down the stairs. You sigh and look up at the ceiling, racking your brain for the best way to turn her mood around before following her.

The walk to the stables is silent. You're each trying to settle into this new dynamic, but none of you like it. That seems to be the only thing clear about this whole situation. As you walk through the horse stalls, Tommy tells you something about the distance or the terrain or something. You lose track when you see Joel saddling up the horse you were coming to get.

"You came here to say goodbye or something?" Ellie snaps, but Joel doesn't even turn from what he's doing.

"No. I came here to steal one of these horses and go." His voice is strained, like he's been crying. Had he been crying? In the years you've known Joel Miller, you've never seen him cry.

"I woulda gave you one." Tommy chimes in, and Joel nods.

"I know," he says, finally looking at the three of you. His eyes linger on yours before he looks down at his boots again. "Anyway, that was thirty minutes ago, and I guess..." he trails off and starts walking to Ellie. "You deserve a choice. I still think you'd be better off with Tommy-"

"Let's go." Ellie cuts him off, shoving her bag into his chest with enough force to make him stumble. You fight a smile as you glance between them. This, you think. This is how it's supposed to be.

"Okay," Joel says. Ellie walks past him and to the horse, petting his nose and whispering sweet things. Tommy and Joel share a look of understanding before his eyes flick to yours. "D'you mind givin' us a minute?" He asks Tommy, and he shakes his head. He takes the horse Joel saddled up and Ellie outside before walking to the back of the barn to get another one ready. The air between you is thick as you stare at him, the dried tear marks on his cheeks catching the light, and you should be mad at him. You should curse at him and push him, but you don't.

"You made Ellie really happy." You say instead. He nods and takes a step into you.

"Only Ellie?" He rasps. You take a deep breath and press your tongue into your cheek, fighting the impulse to make a snarky comment. He can see the struggle and smirks devastatingly at you.

"I'm happy," you say. He takes another step closer, his chest hitting flush against yours, and you breathe in the mint toothpaste he used this morning. His lips ghost over yours, but you pull back and look at him intently before he can kiss you. "If you ever make me yell at you like that again, I will make your life a living hell, Miller."

"Promise?" He asks, a teasing lilt to his voice, and you raise your eyebrows at him. "I'm sorry for bein' a dick. I should've listened to you from the start. I'm sorry," he mumbles as he kisses you. "'M sorry." Kiss. "'M sorry." Kiss. "'M sorry." He trails down your neck, whispering apologies into your skin. You tilt your head to give him a little more room, relishing in the scratch of his beard against your pulse, when you hear Ellie's voice from outside. You slap his shoulder to get his attention, but he doesn't move.

"Cool it, cowboy. There are kids around." You say, and he chuckles.

"Kid," he corrects. "And she's not payin' attention." He says, lifting his head to kiss your lips again. It feels like it's been forever since you've had a moment like this with him, probably since before Tess died. Still, he tastes familiar, and the press of his lips against yours is a comfort. You indulge in it for a few more seconds before pulling away.

"We have to go." You whisper, your voice wrecked from the effect he has on you, and he groans.

"Okay, okay." He relents, prying himself from you, but you catch his wrist before he can get far.

"I'm serious about what I said. I don't wanna feel like I did last night ever again." You say, and he presses his lips into a line before intertwining your fingers.

"I'm sorry for the fight. For bein' a dick. Everything. I'll do anything I can to never do that to you or Ellie ever again, okay?" He says. Reluctantly, you nod and decide to forgive him. You don't have time to be mad at him, and there's nothing you can do to change the past. You can only keep moving forward.

"Okay," you agree. "But Ellie deserves an apology, too."

"Of course." He agrees easily. It's the least friction you've ever had while talking to him. You smile and kiss him one more time before you two walk out to where Ellie and Tommy are waiting with two saddled-up horses. The brothers bid each other a private goodbye, and you thank him for everything. He gives you directions as Joel pulls Ellie up on the horse to settle behind him, and you listen, too, in case Joel forgets something.

Then, as quietly as you arrived, you leave Jackson and its inhabitants for whatever the Fireflies have in store for you three.

#look for the light #joel miller #joel miller the last of us #joel miller and ellie williams #joel miller angst #joel miller hurt/comfort #the last of us fluff #the last of us hurt/comfort #the last of us series #the last of us x reader #the last of us fic #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #platonic!ellie williams x reader

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boxofbonesfic · 2 years ago

Photo

Title: Seek

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Joel Miller x Divorcee! Reader

Summary: You are forced to share your hiding spot with one incorrigible cretin—Joel Miller. But, maybe that’s not so bad.

Word Count: 8,369

Warnings: 18+ Only, Fluff, Comedy, Shameless Smut, Breeding, Pre-Outbreak, Intoxication, Fluff, MINORS DNI!

A/N: a little peek at the night Joel and the Reader first got together. AKA that time Sarah played matchmaker with two grown adults. 😂 enjoy! divider is by @firefly-graphics

“Hello, neighbor.” The low, sultry drawl, makes you swallow tightly. Oh God. You’re glad your hands are stuck wrist deep in the dirt, otherwise they’d be shaking. You take a few tries to school your features into what you hope is a casual smile, and not a grimace of abject panic as you glance over your shoulder at him.

“Hey, Joel.” Your ruggedly handsome neighbor leans against the fence, folding his thickly corded forearms over the pickets. You offer him the sincerest smile you can muster. God his fucking sleeves are rolled up—you fight the urge to ruin it by sinking your teeth into your lower lip. His eyes flick down, and then back up to your face.

“You doin’ some gardenin’?” You don’t know why, but the quirk of his lips makes your stomach knot.

“Y-yeah. W-well, you know. I thought I’d get outside today, since it’s been raining so much.” You say, sticking the spade into the dirt as you turn to face him. You’re acutely aware of the mud on the hem of your yellow sundress now, and you know he must see it too. Goddammit. You feel like every time you talk to him you embarrass yourself—especially now. Nervously and out of habit, you touch your thumb to your ring finger through the gloves, feeling its absence.

Before, at least, you’d had Howard as a buffer, though Joel had never much seemed to like your husband. Ex-husband.

“Mm, yeah. Hopin’ it stays nice, you know Sarah’s birthday’s on Saturday,” He says, tapping his fingers thoughtfully against the pickets. “Comin’ up fast.”

“Oh yeah,” you say, nodding with a smile. “I’ll have to bring something over. Wait—she doesn’t do dolls anymore, right? She’s too old for that now.”

“Dolls? Damn kid’s asking me for a phone,” Joel mutters darkly, smoothing a frustrated hand down his face. “A phone.” You can’t help but laugh. “Anyway, I wanted to, you know, let you know you’re invited. Whole neighborhood is, we’ll have games and food. The works.”

“Oh, sure!” You’re not sure why you’re nervous. It’s not a special invitation, it’s open to the entire block. Still, you feel an apprehensive sort of giddiness growing in your tight stomach when he smiles at you encouragingly.

“I’d love to come, I’ll um, I’ll bake something.” You pass your tongue over your lips, and Joel’s eyes follow the movement, lingering before his eyes dart back up to yours. Imagining things. You’re definitely imagining things. You’d have to be—you’re a thirty-something year old divorcee with little to show for it other than the fixer-upper Howard had been glad to leave you. You’re not hot-single-neighbor material.

“That’ll be great.” He fixes you with another boyish smile and you hate the way your stupid stomach tightens when he does. “Sarah loves your apple crumble.” You try to hide your bashful smile behind one of your gardening gloves.

“Joel Miller, you know better than to lie to me over my own fence,” you chide, and he chuckles.

“Yes ma’am I do,” he says, winking at you as the corners of his full lips turn up underneath the mustache. “That’s why I told the truth.” You cluck your tongue at him, and begin gathering your gardening tools into the wide wicker basket you keep them in. You heft them up with a grunt, and he shakes his head.

“Looks heavy. Let me give you a hand.” Before you can protest, he’s jogging around to the spot where your fences meet, and slipping in through the open gate.

“I-I can handle it,” you protest meekly as he holds out one calloused hand, beckoning with his fingers. You step back a little defensively, hesitating. “I carried it all the way out here from the shed by myself.” Joel merely raises an eyebrow and lifts his hand a little higher.

“I know, Sugar. You’re a big girl, you can do it all by yourself,” he says in that filthy smooth baritone. “Doesn’t mean you have to.” Flustered, you let him have the basket, brushing hopelessly at your dress as you follow him to the backyard shed.

“Well, it’s just me, so,” you scurry forward to pull open the door, and you watch him place the basket on the dusty work table. You’re not much of a crafts person, beyond the occasional gardening DIY, so it’s gone mostly unused since Howard moved out.

“I’m real sorry about that, by the way,” Joel says, dusting his hands off on his jeans. The look of pity on his face makes you shift uncomfortably. “But I can’t exactly say that I’m sorry he’s gone.” You laugh. The sound is brittle. Like my marriage was.

“Don’t be.” Joel’s fingers trail across Howard’s old work-bench, leaving lines in the dust as he inspects it.

“Oh, hey,” Joel says, leaning over. He reaches underneath bench and pulls something bright yellow out from underneath it. “Speak of the devil,” he mutters. After a confused second of squinting, you realize it’s a staple-gun. “Knew he never returned this.” Your face burns with embarrassment as you pinch the bridge of your nose. The result, no doubt, of one of Howards many unfinished DIY projects, the ones you always seemed to end up cleaning up and finding space for in the basement.

“God, he’s not even here and Howard’s still embarrassing me,” you say. “I’m sorry, I would have given it back if I’d known.” You watch Joel shake his head.

“That’s not on you. Besides, I’ve got it back now, so. No harm, no foul.” He tucks it into the waistband of his jeans before stepping out of the little shed and closing the door behind him. He smiles at you again, and you swear the only thing keeping you from melting into a puddle of jelly is the force of your will alone.

“You let me know if there’s anything around the house that needs doing. You cleaned your gutters since Howard left?” He asks, and your face burns again as you hurriedly shake your head.

“N-no,” you admit. “But you really—I don’t want to put you to the trouble, Joel.”

“S’no trouble.” He says with a wink, heading for the back gate. “I’ll be by tomorrow. You’ve got a ladder, don’t you, Sugar?”

—

You’re in your pajamas when Joel shows up, bright and early. The sound of the doorbell jolts you up from the kitchen table, where you’d positioned yourself so that you could see the television through the doorway. Watching the morning news rather mindlessly while you had your coffee was your new morning routine, and though it felt a little lonely and empty, it was certainly better than screaming matches with Howard about how inadequate of a wife you were to him, so you relished it.

You realize belatedly that the tie for your robe is upstairs as you’re fumbling with the locks, pulling open the door with an exasperated Hello before you realize exactly who’s on the other side of your front door.

“Howdy, neighbor.” That southern twang—the one you don’t have—is like syrup, each syllable running smoothly into the next as it slides pleasurably into your ears. You’re sure the heat rising in your chest and neck is due to your own embarrassment as you unsuccessfully try to tug the flaps of your robe shut with one hand. It’s definitely not because Joel is looking at me funny.

“J-Joel, I—morning,” you say, tucking stray strands of hair behind your ears self consciously as you offer him an apologetic smile. “I didn’t, um. I didn’t know you’d be over so early. I thought you, um. Liked to get a, a late start in the mornings.”

“That’s true,” he says, nodding as he tucks his thumbs into his belt loops. “But I can get up for the important things.” He rocks forward on to the balls of his feet, the leather on his boots creaking. “So, Sugar, where’s that ladder?” You feel warm when he looks at you, so warm you’re surprised steam isn’t whistling out of your ears like a kettle.

“In the, um, in the shed.” You turn to head back into the house, but stop. “Do you need me to—” He meets the glance you shoot him over your shoulder with a stern lift of his brow.

“I got it. You go on and enjoy your coffee, now.” Joel tips his head at you, and then reaches forward to pat you just above your hip. “Go on. Scoot.”

The screen door swings shut behind you as you turn smartly to do as you’re told, and it’s only when you’re two steps into the kitchen that you realize your hip is still warm from where he touched you. You shiver.

Joel’s just friendly.

You repeat that back to yourself dozens of times as you shower, dress, and ready yourself for the day. It’s embarrassing, but you don’t have much to do now that you don’t have Howard to pick up after. Stay-at-home-wife was just another word for nanny to him, and now, five years into your marriage and ten months post divorce, you’re still struggling to find a way to fill your time. You can live off the alimony, sure, but you want something more meaningful to do, even if it doesn’t pay much.

Joel is still up on the roof by the time you come back downstairs, but you aren’t down there long before you hear him tapping at the kitchen window. You unlock the back door, and the sight of Joel leaned up against your doorframe greets you when you open it. He’s busy toeing off his muddy workboots, but he glances up at you with a lopsided smile.

“Mind if I clean off? I’ve got to head to the site after this.”

“Totally, sure, um, you remember where the bathroom is?” You ask, and he nods.

“Down the hall to the right, innit?” He asks over his shoulder, and you nod. His arms and cheek are splattered with the same muck that you assume has been clogging your gutters, and you feel even guiltier knowing he has to head to his actual job after this. Where are my manners? You ask yourself guiltily, hurrying to fetch a glass from the cabinet. You don’t have any food you can offer him, but you go for the peach iced tea in the fridge and pour him a tall glass. He’d come over and done hard work for you, and you hadn’t even offered him something to drink.

Shameful, your grandmother’s shrill voice hisses at you through your memories. Just shameful. No wonder you couldn’t keep a man. With your teeth set into your bottom lip, you head for the hallway, intending to head Joel off before he gets to the front door.

You aren’t expecting to crash headlong into him.

“Shit!” You curse as cold tea splashes against your chest and the glass in your fingers tumbles to the rug. “I’m so sorry—I didn’t get you, did I?” You look guiltily up at Joel and your heart seizes in your chest. He’s shirtless in your hallway, his face and chest damp and his t-shirt balled up in one fist. Logically, you know it’s because he obviously can’t go to work covered in gutter-crap, but you can’t think about that now, not when you’re following the happy trail starting at his belly button all the way down the waistband of his pants and God fucking dammit I’m staring like a creep—

“No, Sugar. All dry,” he laughs, interrupting the rambling chain of your thoughts. “Can’t say the same for you.” He gestures down at your shirt before shrugging into his own. “Was that sweet tea?” Joel asks, a mournful note in his voice.

“Yes—let me get you another glass,” you say quickly, bending over to pick up the fallen glass before you rush back into the kitchen. Clumsy, stupid—you put it carefully in the sink before fetching a fresh cup from the cabinet, and you fill that one too. “Joel, I—oh.” You turn to call him into the kitchen, only to find him right behind you. His smile is slow syrup the way his voice is, and you find yourself feeling like a knock-kneed teenager at the sight of it.

“That for me?” Joel asks, and you nod wordlessly, unable to form words around the hot lump of embarrassment that forms in your throat. “Thank you, Sugar,” he purrs, plucking the glass from your limp fingers. “I was powerful thirsty.” He tips his head back, and you watch his Adam’s apple bob beneath the scruff of his beard as he swallows.

You’re grateful for the refrigerator against your back, because you know you’d slide right down to your tasteful linoleum tiles in a heap without it when he lets out a satisfied moan. He swipes the back of his hand across his mouth, and then chases the stray droplets with his tongue.

“Should bring a whole pitcher of that by the house when you come by on Saturday. Folks’ll go crazy for it.”

Your brain is still short circuiting from his closeness, the smell of his cologne, the sight of his tanned, perfect chest—so you just nod dumbly, your lips slightly parted as you stare. Closing mouth in three, two, one—

“Uh, um. Yeah. Tea.” Jesus fuck, why is my mouth so dry? You stumble over the words, feeling like there are a hundred glass marbles in your mouth as you try to pronounce them properly. “So, um. Saturday?”

“Saturday.” Joel hands you back the glass, and winks. “Don’t drop it this time.” He pauses in the doorway, tapping his hand against the frame a few times. “And you’ll let me know when I can come by to cut that grass, wontcha, Sugar? Needs mowin’.”

I absolutely will not. “Sure thing. I-I mean, you don’t have to, really—”

“Just bein’ neighborly is all,” he calls over his shoulder as the screen door swings shut behind him. You watch the top of his head go by the kitchen window before you slump against the refrigerator.

“Neighborly.” You mutter in disbelief, pinching the bridge of your nose. You make your way back upstairs to change your shirt—the tea is starting to get sticky against your skin.

—

By the time Saturday rolls around, you’ve almost talked yourself completely out of attending.

You should not be this nervous about am eleven year old’s birthday party, you chastise yourself, shifting from foot to foot as you wait for someone to answer the door. There’s music coming from the backyard, and you can smell food, and the charcoal from the grill. You step back a little as the door opens, and you’re both surprised and relieved to see it isn’t Joel. And you’re glad for it, considering you’ve been studiously avoiding him.

Sarah greets you with a friendly smile, waving you inside. “Mrs. Leeman, hi!” She closes the door behind you. “Thank you for coming! You didn’t have to do that,” she says, gesturing at the covered apple crumble and sealed jug of peach tea in your hands. Sarah moves to take one from you, and you hand over the jug gratefully. “But this is way better than the cake uncle Tommy got. He went to Penny Saver.”

You laugh. “You’re welcome. I wasn’t exactly sure what to get you,” you admit, “but your dad said you’ve been wanting a phone?” You ask, and she rolls her eyes, starting towards the kitchen. You’ve only been here once or twice, to use the bathroom the few times Howard had deigned to take part in any neighborhood festivities. She sets the jug on the table.

“Ugh, yeah. But he says I’m too young.”

You lean in conspiratorially. “Well, how about I join team get Sarah a phone and try to help convince him, huh?” Carefully, you place the crumble on the table. “I’ll pay for your first month.”

Sarah’s eyes brighten. “Really? Yeah, oh my God that might actually work! Thanks, um, Mrs. Leeman. And for the crumble too, I asked special.”

“Just ‘Ms’, now,” you say with a little laugh. Sarah’s smile widens a little, turning up at the corners like she knows something you don’t know. And it isn’t Leeman anymore, either.

“Oh, right. I’m sorry,” she says, and you can tell she’s really trying to pour on the sincerity. She’s good—but she’s not that good. “I forgot you’re single now.” You quirk an eyebrow.

“Yeah?” You answer slowly. “Kind of a weird way to put it, but yes?” You chalk it up to teenage awkwardness, watching amusedly as Sarah plucks the candles out of the admittedly generic cake Tommy bought, and presses them into the crumble instead.

“Everybody’s outside,” she chirps, wiping her hands off on her jeans. “Uncle Tommy, Mr. and Mrs. Anderson, my dad,” she adds. “You should totally go say hi.” Casting another suspicious glance at Sarah, you make your way over to the back door. Once your eyes adjust to the bright summer sun, you see that Joel’s backyard is chaos; every kid in the neighborhood is there, along with most of the families in your corner of the cul-de-sac.

You pretend you don’t immediately spot Joel on the grill, his sleeves rolled up as he chats with his brother. You’ve only met Tommy once or twice and only in passing, but you remember him just fine. Your eyes meet, and he leans over, elbowing Joel. He says something too, but you’re too far away to hear it. Joel begins to turn around, and you hurriedly busy yourself at the punch bowl.

God, this is pathetic. You berate yourself as you spoon out punch into a little paper cup. Just say hi, you stupid idiot. You feel stupid and giddy around Joel, like a middle-schooler with her first crush only worse, because you’re two decades past the expiration date on this behavior. Not to mention he’s your neighbor.

And God knows you aren’t the best at reading signals—it had taken you years to realize that your marriage, your relationship, was dead in the water. Joel isn’t interested, he can’t be. At most, you assume he feels a sort of half hearted pity for you. I’m like the one-eyed cat at the shelter.

“Hey there Judy, thanks for comin’.” You hear Joel’s voice behind you, and you tense—He’s coming this way. You chance a glance over your shoulder and swallow audibly. He’s making a beeline right for you. Is it too late to go back inside? You know the thought is futile, it’s most certainly far too late for that.

“Hi, I mean, you know, welcome to the party,” he says, putting his hands in his pockets after an awkward moment of holding them out, almost like he was going to hug you and then thought better of it.

“Yeah, Sarah was…enthusiastic about the cake.” You’re trying to think of a word to describe her weird behavior. “Maybe a little too much,” you laugh a little. Joel shakes his head and mutters something under his breath you can’t quite make out—“damn kid sticking her nose in where it doesn’t—” Before he shakes his head, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Kid’s a mystery to me sometimes,” he replies with a huff. He squints, like he’s looking for her in the crowd. You follow his line of sight right to Sarah, laughing with her friends.

“She’s a good one.”

“Lord knows,” Joel sighs. “I was raising hell at her age.” He turns back to you. “I’m really glad you could make it.” His smile is so bright you’re forced to look somewhere else, for fear of going weak in the knees.

“N-no problem. I’m, um, I’m happy to get out of the house,” you admit. “I’ve been kind of… I don’t know. Bored? Since Howard left.” You look down at the punch cup in your hands. “Is that weird? I don’t miss him or anything, I just… I guess I never realized how much time he was taking. Wasting.” You shake your head. “Sorry, I shouldn’t—”

“No, no, please,” Joel looks at you almost imploringly. “I don’t mind.” He leans against the table behind you. “I’ve been there. Losing yourself is surprisingly easy. It’s the finding yourself after that’s hard.”

“Yeah,” you nod. “Yeah, exactly.”

“Listen I—”

“Joel, you wanna serve burnt burgers or what?” Tommy calls from the grill, pointing at the thick smoke curling up from it. Joel curses.

“Dammit, Tommy—I’ll be right back.”

He’s surprisingly easy to talk to, and you swallow back the unexpected disappointment at the interruption. It’s probably a good thing though, you think to yourself as you spy Tricia Gibbins, also newly divorced, eyeing you with a scowl.

You offer her a weak smile in response, before turning back to your drink. Joel’s a hot commodity, and you know you’re not the only single woman in the neighborhood with eyes. Joel has an easy sort of confidence about him, the kind that comes from working with your hands and being good at it. The kind that isn’t unearned.

As Joel averts the crisis at the grill, you mingle. Chatting up the neighbors you haven’t really seen since the divorce. It’s awkward at first, but you get over that quickly enough. It’s oddly comforting, feeling like you’re part of the community at large again, instead of the weird shut-in with the mean husband. Oddly, Joel keeps finding reasons to be close to you, joining in the conversations you’re having as he sidles up next to you, offering to refresh your drink each time you finish it. And when he brings out the crumble from the kitchen—much to Tommy’s chagrin—he thanks you specifically for providing it, and your cheeks heat as you duck your head, embarrassedly enduring the round of applause that follows.

If Gibbins didn’t hate me already, she definitely does now.

You help cut and serve it, trying to ensure each partygoer at least has the option of having a piece. As Sarah wolfs down her piece after blowing out her candles, she and her friends share a conspiratorial look.

“We were thinking of playing a party game, dad,” she says, cocking her head at him. “Kids versus grown-ups.” Joel takes a sip of his beer, cocking his head skeptically.

“And what game would that be, young lady?”

“Manhunt! Come on, dad, please? Everyone really wants to play!” Sarah gestures eagerly at the gaggle of kids behind her, pushing and shoving and giggling nervously as the adults look them over. Sarah rocks excitedly back and forth on her tip-toes as her father debates it. Sarah looks at you imploringly.

“Please? Last game of the night, I promise! You’ll play, won’t you?”

“Ah hell,” Tommy curses, finishing his beer before slinging the empty bottle into the trash-can by the picnic table. “Why not? Used to play this all the time growin’ up.” He casts a nostalgic look at Joel before elbowing Sarah conspiratorially. “Every summer I used to whoop your daddy’s—”

“No lying to the girl on her birthday, Tommy,” Joel replies with a chuckle, and you laugh too. “Fine then. Who all’s playin’?” Hands go up, all across the yard, and Joel nods as he takes stock of them. Howard would have insisted on leaving right about now, your charitable appearance over and done with. But Howard isn’t here to make the decision for you, and you find yourself raising your own hand, too. Perhaps it’s the warm buzz of the beer settling into your stomach making you foolish, but it’s a warm summer evening and you feel… good.

“Ground rules—nobody leaves the block, understand? No hidin’ in strangers yards.” Joel delivers the rules sternly. “

“We were thinking… we’ll seek. Time limit?” Sarah asks, suddenly all business as she leans back to consult her friends, now apparently her war-council.

“Thirty minutes.” Joel replies, holding out his hand. Sarah shakes it exaggeratedly, grinning at him. She holds up two fingers, gesturing between the two of them. “And you’ve got to find everybody to win.”

“Yeah, yeah, old man,” She calls over her shoulder as she jogs toward her friends. “You’re going down!” They’re all clustered around the side of the house, some of them already counting. You’re already thinking of the perfect hiding place, where the rosebushes meet on the left side of your porch—it’s impossible to see from the sidewalk. The participating adults are already splitting up, heading in different directions to try and outlast their children.

Giggling, you hurry back across the street, casting a suspicious glance around before you duck down behind your rosebushes. It’s silly, you know, but… it feels good too. Like you’re actually enjoying yourself instead of pretending to. Howard never would have approved of this—These are children’s games, come on—but he isn’t here, and you don’t need him to. The thought makes you practically giddy; Howard is gone, gone!

And he isn’t coming back.

You lean back against the porch, ducking lower as you hear the sound of approaching voices. As you reach back to steady yourself, your hand brushes against another. You gasp, loudly, and whirl around to see Joel, looking equally surprised. It looks like he’s come around from the opposite side of the house, staying low underneath the roses, just like you. You open your mouth to speak, but he holds up a finger, pointing behind you.

“I heard something! I think one of the grown-ups is hiding over here.” You wait with baited breath to be discovered, but the gangly teenager on the other side of the bush doesn’t come all the way up the porch steps, stopping halfway.

“Whatever, I don’t see anybody. Let’s look by the Simmons’ place!”

The sound of your gravel crunching under sneakers gradually recedes, and you let out a heavy sigh of relief.

“Sorry. I didn’t know you were there,” you whisper apologetically, and Joel laughs.

“Well you know. Great minds, and all that.” He scoots closer. “Do you mind? I can risk finding another spot if you do.”

“No, no,” you say, shaking your head. Maybe it’s the beers, making you foolishly confident, but you… want him to stay. “There’s room enough for the two of us.”

“You’re damn right there is,” Joel replies. “Grass is tall enough that we could stand in it.” You pretend to be shocked, raising a cartoonishly offended hand over your heart.

“Oh, is that how it is, Miller?” You ask. “You come over here, barge into my hiding spot, and then insult my grass? I’m pretty sure them’s fighting words, around here at least.” He edges closer, close enough that when he settles down into a sitting position, his thigh presses against yours.

“It’s almost calf high, Sugar,” he says seriously. “That’s dangerous.” You try to look sufficiently scared, and Joel smothers a laugh behind one hand.

“Danger? Here?” You bring a hand to your cheek. “How dangerous are we talking?” He fixes you with a serious look, brows knitting together as he presses his full lips into a tight line.

“Very dangerous. Trip and falls, termites, biting ants—you know. Just to name a few things.” Joel is handsome, not a fact you’re unfamiliar with. But up this close… You can see the beginnings of salt and in his thick black hair, how his warm brown eyes are flecked with gold and green, the cinnamon spice of his breath—Fireball, he was drinking Fireball—

And how soft his lips are when they brush against yours.

You’re not sure how long it takes you to realize that you’re kissing Joel Miller. Later, when you look back, you’ll realize there’s a gap in your memory, a skip, a blank space spanning from the moment his hip pressed against yours until you feel the warmth of his hand on your hip through your jeans. It’s a chaste thing, a simple press of his mouth to yours, but the realization of what’s happening makes you gasp, pulling away. For once, you’re speechless, the nervous ramble that usually accompanies these moments is notoriously absent.

Of course it’s Joel that speaks first.

“I been waitin’ to do that for six months.” He breathes. And then he leans forward, gently brushes a stray lock of hair from your face, and does it again. You release your death-grip on the latticework beneath the porch, and instead tangle your fingers in Joel’s t-shirt. He mumbles something against your lips that you don’t understand before deepening the kiss, sweeping his tongue into your mouth as you sigh against him. Joel tastes like cinnamon whiskey, hops, and faintly of tobacco—likely from the cigarette you’d seen him bum from Tommy in secret earlier.

He tastes so good you could cry. Like beer and warm summer evenings, like catching lightning bugs in jars. He tastes exactly like you thought he would.

When you part, you’re both panting, staring wild-eyed at one another as the rest of the world filters back in. Joel lets out a little laugh, resting his forehead against yours. You like how he smells, too, sandalwood and leather.

“Six months is a long time,” you say after a minute, and he laughs. Somehow, you feel both validated and incredibly stupid at the same time. “And here I thought you felt sorry for me.”

“I did, being married to that prick,” he scoffs. “I hung over that fence every other day for six months, and you never thought—?”

“No! I thought, you know, you… really wanted to mow my grass.” You answer defeatedly, and this time Joel’s booms in your ears so loud you fear the children will discover you. You laugh too, and when he pulls you close to kiss you a third time, you lean into it, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders as he pulls you practically into his lap. Your heart is pounding in your chest as you card fingers through his thick hair. You’re glad you’re sitting down, because the answering husky moan he releases would have brought you to your knees.

“Dad! Thirty-minutes!” The sound of Sarah’s voice shocks the two of you apart, and you scramble off of Joel, your cheeks burning. You peek through the rose bushes, pulling aside a bud to see Sarah, standing in the middle of the street. You snicker at the sight of her. She and her friends seem to have already rounded up the other adults, and, armed with water-guns, are escorting them back to the party. You can see that Tommy’s wet, and you wonder if he tried to outrun them.

“Time’s up,” she calls. “You guys win!”

“You stay here. I’ll go first.” Joel says with a wink. “I’ll see you back at the party, okay? And we’ll finish this… discussion.” He licks his lips.

You nod, not trusting your voice not to give out on you. You watch as Joel gets a very rules-illegal squirting with Sarah’s supersoaker, and you’re glad he took the bullet for both of you as they head into the backyard. Once you’re sure no one else is really watching, you creep out, brushing stray bits of grass and twigs from your clothes. Your face still feels warm, your lips tingling where Joel’s had met them.

There isn’t much “party” left when you let yourself in through the side gate, people cleaning up with trash bags. You begin helping, clearing the tables of plastic cutlery and paper plates. There isn’t really time to talk, not really. Every time he begins to, something, someone, needs his attention. As you’re tossing bags into the trash bin, Tommy comes up behind you with another load. You hold the lid open for him, and he ducks his head gratefully.

“Thanks. So, you and my brother, huh? Manhunt neighborhood champs.” He grins at you, and you feel your face heat.

“In my defense, it was my hiding spot first.”

“That tracks.” He laughs. ”And I’m not mad, even though you dethroned my cake.”

You grin. “Sorry. I was asked.” It’s easy to see that Tommy and Joel are related, you think as you chat. They have the same easy way of moving, the same slow drawl. You think of the way his lips felt against yours again and your face warms. It had felt so right to do in that moment, but now you can’t help but wonder if it had been a mistake.

“He’s droppin’ Sarah off at her friend’s place,” Tommy says suddenly. “In case you were wonderin’.” His knowing look makes you wish the earth would open right up and swallow you into the resulting abyss. It doesn’t though, and you are forced to shoot Tommy a painfully embarrassed smile instead.

“I, um. Thanks.” You tuck your hands into your pockets to stop their nervous twitching. Somehow, this feels like a higher-stakes interaction than any of the others you’ve ever had with Tommy, and you aren’t sure why.

“No problem.” Tommy dusts his hands off of his jeans. “And he’s… Stupid. My brother. But he means well.”

“I think that makes two of us.”

You finish helping clean up, hanging around the yard awkwardly until Tommy asks you if you want to wait inside. You shake your head. Joel’s probably realized his mistake by now, you think to yourself, shaking your head as you make your way back across the street. Keys in hand, you head up the steps and unlock the door. As it swings open, the blast of a car-horn makes you yelp, jumping as you press yourself against the doorframe.

Joels truck swings haphazardly into your driveway, and he’s half out of it before it even stops. He hops the little gate in front of your porch steps, taking them two at a time as he strides towards you with purpose.

“Sugar.”

“Joel, I—” There are a thousand thoughts, all jumping to reach your mouth first. You want to kiss him again, you want to run inside and hide until he leaves, you really want to kiss him again—

“I thought I told you to wait for me,” Joel says lowly, his fingers sliding through the belt loops on your jeans to tug you close against his chest. “Weren’t finished talkin’.” His mouth is against yours before you can answer, and he gratefully swallows your gasp of surprise as his tongue presses insistently at the seam of your lips. You are aware, on some level, that you’re standing on your porch, in full view of every watchful eye on your end of the street. However, your concern for your reputation is kept well in check by the feel of Joel’s hands passing hungrily over your hips.

His fingers skate up underneath the hem of your t-shirt, and you gasp at the feel of them trailing up your sides and over your belly.

“I-inside,” you say, the word muffled by his lips. You feel the corners of his mouth curl up against your cheek as Joel loops his arms underneath your thighs. You gasp as he hoists you up, forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist as he carries you inside. Joel kicks the door shut behind him before pressing you against the wall, fitting the hard planes of his body against the softness of yours. He fits so well in between your thighs, his jean-clad hips slotting against you perfectly.

You want to be ashamed at the way your hips roll into his, your heels digging into the backs of his thighs. His hand fists in your hair, tugging your head back so that he can trail his teeth and tongue down the side of your throat.

“Fuck,” he mutters, teeth catching at the shell of your ear as one hand cups your swollen cunt through your jeans. You feel like you’re on fire, heat running underneath your skin, sparking where Joel touches you. Your head is swimming, like you’re drunk on more than just a couple of beers. Your fingers tangle in the short hair at the nape of his neck, and the throaty moan Joel releases makes your pussy clench down hard around nothing.

You drop your feet to the floor as his fingers play at the button of your jeans. He’s breathing heavy, hair askew from your attentions and eyes hungry.

“We can stop if you want to,” he says, his voice strained and husky. “You say stop, we stop.” You can tell he wants to do anything but stop, his thigh wedged between yours, and the half hard weight of his cock throbbing against you through his jeans. But you can also see he means it, that he’ll turn around and walk right back to his truck if you tell him to.

You hesitate, feeling Joel’s steady breaths against your lips as he waits for your decision. This is crazy, you reason. We’ll both regret this, and it’ll be awkward and we’ll never be able to talk to each other again—But what’s crazier is that you know you want him to stay. That you’re willing to risk it.

Maybe you’ll just be crazy for tonight.

“Stay.”

Joel surges, crashing over you like a wave. His hands—God, his hands—are everywhere, tugging up the rumpled hem of your t-shirt to cup your breasts through your bra, wiggling down under the waistband of your jeans to touch whatever skin he can—

“Y’know, Sugar,” Joel’s voice is simmering honey, is burnt sugar—“I don’t think we’re gonna make it upstairs.” You don’t think so either, not with his eager fingers tugging open the button on your jeans. Not to mention that you’re pretty sure that if he stops touching you, you might actually die. You’ve never felt this before, the all encompassing need that drives you to grind down against his proffered thigh, your hands fisting in his shirt.

Definitely not making it to the bed. He kisses you again, sucking on your tongue as you feverishly work at the buttons on his shirt. You push them apart to touch his bare skin and he hums with pleasure.

He grunts frustratedly when there isn’t enough room for his huge hands in your tight jeans, tugging at them until they stick fast about halfway down your thighs. He anchors his hands underneath your hips, and you gasp as he hoists you up, taking a few wobbly steps towards the stairs.

He only makes it up three of them before he abandons the effort, setting you down. You let out a little giggle as your ass makes contact with the wood, and Joel sucks his teeth.

“Goddamn house. S’got too many stairs,” he mumbles against the side of your throat. The raspy burn of his beard against your skin is delicious as he trails kisses down your neck until he meets the collar of your shirt. “Take this fuckin’ thing off, Sugar.” Joel’s teeth tug at the fabric. He chuckles lowly when your breath catches. “Or d’you want me to do it for you?” You hurriedly tug your shirt up over your head—with Joel’s eager assistance—and his mouth crashes against yours as before it’s even cleared your hair.

Joel’s cinnamon and whiskey spiced kisses leave heat in their wake as he presses them between your breasts, pulling down the cups of your bra. He releases a pleased hum when your puffy nipples spill lewdly over the lace. The way he grins at the sight of them makes you want to combust, heat creeping up your chest and neck as he pinches them softly between his fingers. You whine, and he clucks his tongue at you, fixing you with a serious look.

“Don’t you rush me, Sugar,” he says, flicking his thumb against your nipple, and he grins when you wriggle. “Haven’t I been patient?” You’re hard pressed to disagree. His heavy lidded eyes go even darker as he laves his tongue across your nipple, and you whimper pathetically when he rolls it between his teeth.

“Yeah,” you pant as Joel taps his very patient fingers against the fleshy curve of your hip. You lift for him, and he hums with approval as he tugs them down your legs and flings them to the floor. “Practically a saint—ah, Joel!” Joel cups your pussy, clapping his hand against the fatty curve of it with a groan.

“If I were a saint, Sugar,” he drawls, pulling your panties tight until the puffy lips of your cunt pop out lewdly around them, “You know I’d never miss a day at this fuckin’ church.” He traces the shape of your swollen clit through the fabric with the rough pad of his thumb. “A-fuckin’-men.” The elastic band snaps against your skin as he pulls them off completely, your panties joining your jeans in an undignified heap at the bottom of the stairs.

Joel delivers a stinging little slap to your thigh that makes you yelp.

“Open.” You do, your cheeks burning as you spread your legs apart and let him see. He cards his fingers through his hair as a low “fuck” falls from his lips. He drags a thick, calloused finger up your slit, swirling the tip through your sopping folds. “Christ, Sugar,” he says, holding up his fingers so that you can see your own slick shining on them. You can’t look away as he lowers his head, his breath puffing across your heated skin. It’s only when he drags his tongue up your slit that your head falls back, and you curse at the ceiling.

“S’right,” he mumbles against your cunt, wrenching your legs further open. “Fuck, you taste good, baby.” Your fingers tangle in his hair, and you feel him chuckle against you before his tongue finds your clit and you loose a stream of curses and his name—

“Fuck, fuck fuck, fuck, Joel—”

“Say it, Sugar,” his beard rasps deliciously against your inner thighs. “Let ‘em hear my fuckin’ name.”

It’s impossible to think. You’re fairly certain the amount of electricity currently thrumming through you would be enough to light up a whole goddamn city. Your thighs tremble in his grip and you can’t stop the shameful push of your hips against his face. And then you’re cumming with a pitiful little whine, tears gathering in the corners of your wide eyes. Joel pulls away from you slowly, wiping at his glistening mouth with the back of his hand as he looks at you with dark, lidded eyes.

“Don’t cry yet, Sugar,” he rasps. You can’t help but stare as he looses the buttons on his jeans with nimble fingers. The heavy weight of his cock pushes insistently against the plaid fabric of his briefs before he hooks his thumb under the elastic and tugs it down too. “Oughta wait till the good part, at least.”

Oh my fucking God.

Joel Miller’s cock is thick. Like a fucking coke-can with veins. He palms it with one hand, and your traitorous cunt clenches wetly as you stare. The head is red, angry and leaking, and you find yourself with the sudden urge to swipe your tongue across it and see how he tastes. You can’t stop your eyes from following the movement as he strokes himself slowly, a low chuckle vibrating in his chest.

“Want a taste, Sugar?” He purrs, the accent dripping down every vowel. You don’t have enough working neurons left to lie, and so you nod meekly, licking your lips. “Say aah for me, baby.” You open your mouth wide, sticking out your tongue a little and he groans, balancing one hand on the bannister and the other against the wall as he leans forward. You nurse at his head, wrapping your lips around it as he thrusts slowly. You work your way down his thick, throbbing shaft, stopping when his head taps the back of your throat.

“—gotta be fucking kidding me,” you catch bits and pieces of his mumbled praise, his fingers tangling in your hair as he holds your head still, enjoying the sensation before pulling out. You wipe at the spit on your chin as Joel pumps his cock, squeezing as his head falls back.

“If I wasn’t so determined to make a mess of that pussy, Sugar, I’d let you finish.” Joel sinks down to his knees on the stairs, cupping your chin with sure fingers as he kisses you, and you taste yourself on his tongue. You’re sure that tomorrow, you will find the time to be appalled that you’re here, like this, with your neighbor—

But there is no space in your head for it now.

Now, Joel is settling himself between your thighs, the head of his cock sliding deliciously against you. And then fuck, he’s pushing inside, making your head fuzzy with that blissful, burning stretch.

“G-God,” you whimper, pressing your face against his throat, tugging at the skin there with your teeth as he seats himself all the way inside.

“Sorry, Sugar,” he mumbles the words into your hair, groaning as his heavy balls come to rest against you. “Best you got is me.” Joel draws out, taking all your air with him, before slamming back down, his hips meeting yours with a lewd squelch. You let out a choked gasp as he sinks his cock in to the base, his eyes rolling to half mast. His slow, steady pace is enough to make you see stars while your eyes are open, bright spots tattooing themselves against your retinas.

You don’t notice the hard bite of the wooden stairs into your back and the curve of your ass as you wrap your thighs around Joel’s hips. It feels so good, you’re drowning in it. In Joel. He knots a fist in the curls at the nape of your neck, tugging your head back. You let him, and are rewarded with his teeth and tongue scraping deliciously down the line of your throat.

“Where’ve you been hidin’ this pussy, Sugar?” The words are breathed hotly against the shell of your ear, followed by his teeth. “Why’d you hide her from me?” He punctuates his questions with a hard thrust that makes you bury your fingernails in the meat of his shoulder and sob. “Coulda been givin’ you your dick months ago.”

You’re not paying attention, not really, not when the white hot pleasure building at your core is all you can think about. You whine out an apology, not because you mean it, but because you think it’s what he wants to hear—and at this point, you’d tell him anything just to be able to crest the wave he’s been building inside of you. Fuck and you’re so full—

Every slow, heavy thrust punches the breath from your lungs, leaving you gasping and whining as Joel takes you to pieces.

“H-holy shit,” the words stick to your lips and tongue as you struggle to get them out around the moans you keep trying unsuccessfully to swallow. It was never like this with Howard, this dizzying rush of pleasure that leaves you aching for more—begging for more, even if you’re not sure you can take it.

“P-please,” you keen, lifting your hips eagerly to meet his thrusts. “Please!”

“Please what, Sugar?” Joel asks teasingly, before dropping lis lips to yours. He sucks your bottom lip between his teeth before releasing it. “I’d tell you to use your big girl words but I know you can’t right now, can you Sweetheart?”

You cum with a sob, your back arching as you dig your heels into the backs of Joel’s thighs. They buckle, and he sinks down to his knees as you feel his cock throb inside you. Joel curses into your hair, both hands gripping the lip of the stair next to your head hard enough to drive the blood from his knuckles. You lay like that for a minute, panting on the stairs as you luxuriate in the sticky, warm afterglow.

Thank God for the pill.

All you can smell is the piney scent of his aftershave, tucked against his chest like you are. For a moment, you allow yourself to bask in Joel, your face pressed against his sweat-damp skin, the feel of his pulse thrumming beneath your cheek. You don’t know why, but it makes you think of mornings. Of waking up like this, tangled up in each other, of hot coffee and quick goodbyes over rushed breakfasts, of long nights—

“You okay?” Joel asks, leaning away from you. His cheeks are flushed, and he’s wearing a dopey smile underneath his scruffy beard. He cups your cheek, and you blink it all away, squashing those thoughts back down into your subconscious where they belong. He slips from between your thighs, and you pretend you don’t feel something like a suspicious cross between longing and disappointment.

“Yeah, I’m good.” You offer him a weak smile as you sit up, wincing. There’s an ache in your back from where you’d been pressed against the stairs, and as Joel tucks himself back into his pants, he grimaces, rubbing his knee. You let out a little embarrassed laugh. “Probably should have tried harder to make it to the bed, though.”

Joel fixes you with a sly smile. “There’s still time.” Your face heats and you sputter.

“I—”

“We can just sleep,” he says, chuckling. “Scout’s honor.”

It feels too natural to lead him upstairs, dodging stray hands as you fish a towel out for him from the hall closet. He starts stripping before you’re even out of the bathroom, and when he holds out a hand to you from the shower, you take it. Joel tugs you against his chest, tucking you beneath his chin underneath the spray.

“I thought you said we could sleep?” You say, peeking up at him through your lashes, a smile playing at the edges of your lips. Joel laughs, nosing along your jawline and pressing wet kisses to the corners of your mouth.

“Well we’re not in bed yet, are we Sugar?”

the end.

for now.

Thank you for reading! Please check out my masterlist for other, similar works, and follow my library blog, @box-of-bones-library for updates. ❤️

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller imagine #joel miller smut #joel miller x y/n #joel miller drabble #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us #the last of us imagine #pre-outbreak #boxofbonesfic #Before | After series #fluff #smut

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musings-of-a-rose · 10 months ago

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Falling Slowly Chapter 6

Pairing: Tommy Miller x f!reader

Word Count: 4000+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story.

Notes: This chapter will be entirely from Tommy’s pov. It’s also bringing in a Joel story I’ve been dying to write.

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Tommy Miller Masterlist

<<;Chapter 5<<

Tommy rubs his wrists as the officer unlocks his cuffs, gesturing to the phone on the wall.

"You get one call. 3 minutes."

Tommy nods and picks up the phone, hesitating a moment before dialing his brother's number.

“Hello?”

“Joel, it’s me. Uh, I’m ok.”

“Yeah?”

“But I’m in jail.”

“Goddammit.”

A little offended, Tommy defends himself. “Wasn’t my fault this time. I was at the bar, some guy goes crazy, starts swingin’ at a waitress, I stepped in, knocked him out, cops show up-” The din from the other room gets louder, like people are fighting almost. Look, it doesn’t matter. You gotta bail me out.”

“Now?”

“It’s Friday, you don’t get me out tonight, I’m in here all weekend. It’s a fuckin’ madhouse, Joel. I gotta get out.”

“Well, which jail? Travis County?”

“Yeah, on 10th.”

“Goddammit Tommy.”

“I’m sorry….Please?”

“Ok.” Joel hangs up after that and Tommy stares at the receiver for a moment, hoping that his brother shows up fast.

It's when he waits for Joel that Tommy really sees it. The way people are behaving oddly, just like the man in the bar, lunging at people or twitching. Some of the officers' hands shake as they restrain them, their heads moving from side to side as if trying to clear their minds of a fog. Something is happening, what specifically he can't say. But something is very wrong. All he knows is he has to get Daisy and Jax and get out of town with Joel and Sarah and Rose, if Joel wants that? Maybe to the cabin? Would Joel even believe him?

Just then an officer opens the cell, his hands shaking and fumbling with the keys, dropping them a couple of times before he jams them into the lock and pulls the door open. Tommy quickly walks past the officer, who's now shaking his head and walks down the hall towards the front desk. He sees Joel standing there, his arms crossed and a hard look on his face.

"I thought you were done with this shit, Tommy."

"We have to get out of here."

Joel snorts. "No shit. You think I want to spend my night here?"

Tommy looks at his brother, holding his gaze. "No, we have to leave. Somethin' isn't right."

"What-"

Screams and gunfire echo down the hall from where Tommy just was, obvious signs of multiple people fighting. Joel looks at Tommy and nods towards the front door as the desk officer draws her gun and moves down the hallway, her screams cut off by the door closing behind Joel.

Outside isn't any better. People are running, screaming down the street while other people chase them, pushing them down and…biting their necks? No. Kissing them? No, their lips aren't touching.

The window from a store front next to Tommy breaks, glass shattering all over the road as a person falls from the store, gashes covering their body as they jerk and twist. Suddenly, their, no, her head jerks up and she looks at them, something long and like tendrils sliding out of her mouth just as an inhuman sound comes from her throat, her body launching at the men.

"Shit!" Tommy yells as he moves from her way, her body crashing to the floor momentarily before popping back up.

"Move!" Joel yells and Tommy runs after him, heading towards his truck at the end of the street. Joel reaches it first, just as Tommy feels her fingers close around his shirt, pulling him to the ground. She straddles him, leaning her head towards his, the tendrils sliding from her mouth, reaching towards him, trying to pull her mouth closer to his as Tommy slams his mouth shut, desperately trying to shove her off him.

CLUNK!

A large wrench slams into the side of her head and she flies off Tommy, landing on the sidewalk, her body no longer moving. His chest is heaving as he gasps for air, Joel shoving his hand in his face to help him up.

"We gotta go!" He tosses the keys to Tommy who hops in, starting up the truck and taking off the second Joel closes his door, another one of those things pounding on the window, tendrils pressing up against it.

"Take 42nd to Palm and cut through that alley."

Tommy nods to his brother, his eyes glued to the road where people are running around, trying to avoid getting pounced on. He makes it to the shortcut, his tires screeching down the alley as he heads toward the neighborhood where he and Joel live.

"We'll grab Sarah first since we're up first."

Tommy nods. "Be quick, Joel. I have to get to Daisy and Jax."

But as they pull up to the dark street, they see Sarah running from the neighbor's house, a look of pure terror on her face. Tommy pulls up and Joel jumps out, his wrench in his hand as an old lady runs from the house Sarah just left, tripping over the stairs.

"Get in the truck!" Joel yells at Sarah as the old lady gets up. She grunts, running at them as Tommy moves from around the truck.

"What are we doing here Joel?"

Joel tightened his grip and swung, hitting the lady square in the face, her body hitting the ground.

"You just killed her!" Sarah gasps from behind Joel. He turns to her, kneeling a bit to her level.

"It's not just here. We have to be strong, ok?" She nods, hopping in the back as they jump in, the truck roaring to life as Tommy speeds off down the road towards his house.

They pull up and Tommy's stomach jumps to his throat. The front door is wide open, the plants on the front steps knocked over, dirt splattered across the ground.

"Fuck," Joel whispers under his breath. "Sarah, stay in the car and do not come out. Do you understand?"

"Y-yes."

Tommy opens his door, fingers trembling as a thousand horrible images cross his mind of what may lay inside the home he and Daisy had created. He tightens his grip on the shotgun he grabbed from his backseat, Joel sliding into a position behind him to cover him as they tentatively step inside.

The room is a mess. Furniture is upturned, frames dangling on the wall, broken glass scattered across the floor, the lights flickering as the lamp desperately tries to stay lit. But as they step towards the kitchen and the main stairwell, Tommy has to swallow down a wail, panic seeping through his veins and threatening to take over his mind, his body turning cold.

"Is that…blood?" Joel whispers, coming up beside Tommy, looking down at the dark puddle on the ground.

Tommy nods, not trusting his own voice as he rounds the corner, his shotgun weighing heavier in his hands. No one is in the kitchen, cups clattered on the floor, some drawers pulled out and silverware scattered across the floor.

Tommy then turns to the stairs leading to the bedrooms upstairs. Joel claps his hand on his shoulder, his eyebrows raised in a silent question of "You got this?"

Tommy nods, flexing his fingers against the wood of the shotgun and turns his gaze towards the stairs, slowly ascending them and taking a double step so as not to step on the creaky stair he'd promised Daisy he would fix months ago. His throat tightens thinking of her and he prays to whatever is listening that she's ok. That Jax is ok.

He makes it to the top of the stairs, more things scattered about the floor up here too and turns to Jax's room, his door half open. Toys are scattered about the floor, his lamp over turned and the room nearly pitch black. He swears he hears a small shuffle from the back of his closet and he swallows hard, terrified of what it could mean. He grips the gun tighter, taking a deep breath.

"Jax? It's Daddy."

There's a moment of silence, Tommy's stomach churning with every second as hope fades from him. But then the closet door bursts open and Jax jumps out, his arms outstretched towards his dad.

"DADDY!"

Tommy drops to his knees, quickly setting the shotgun on the floor and opens his arms, Jax throwing his own tiny ones around his neck, little tears streaming down his face as Tommy embraces him, his own tears falling freely.

"I am so glad to see you, little man! Are you ok?" Reluctantly, Tommy disentangles Jax from him and he looks at him. Nothing seems to be off about him other than the fact he was terrified.

"I ok, daddy."

"I'm so happy to hear that, little man. You were hiding and waiting for us?"

Jax's eyes go distant as he remembers, nodding his head. "Mommy said to hide and wait for you or Uncle Joel if she not come back."

Tommy's heart races at the mention of Daisy. "Jax, look at me." He turns his face up and looks up at his Dad, fear blowing his pupils wide. "Where's mommy?"

Jax is quiet for several moments before he speaks and Tommy almost misses it with how softly he talks.

"Mrs. Johnson was being mean to mommy."

Tommy feels himself go cold, blood rushing, heart pumping as fear floods his system. He tries hard to swallow down his fear for Jax. "What, uh, what happened?"

"Mommy woke me up. Said to hide in my best hiding spot. Not to come out until daddy or Uncle Joel or mommy come to get him. That if I do, if I stay really quiet, I win the game. But…" His eyes flick behind Tommy at the door, the door that had been half open when they came upstairs.

"Jax it's OK. You're safe."

Jax looks back at Tommy, eyes watering with fear. "Someone hit on my door. Mommy saw me hide. Took my..r..Rangers bat. She open the door and Mrs. Johnson…" He glances at the door again before looking down at his feet. "She was doing doggy sounds and chasing mommy. But not like when we play. She tried to bite mommy."

"Did she bite her?"

Jax thinks for a moment. "No."

Tommy lets out a puff of air. That's at least something good. "Where did they go?"

"Mommy ran out the door. She made a lot of noise. Mrs. Johnson chase her. I hear sounds from downstairs but then quiet. Then daddy get me. I win, daddy?"

Tommy pulls Jax in to his chest, hugging him tightly, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. "Yeah, bud. You win."

Joel clears his throat. "Tommy, we gotta go. We can't stay here."

"I can't leave Daisy. I can't, I-"

"Tommy." Joel speaks in his stern brother voice. "We have to keep the kids safe. Daisy wouldn't want you to risk Jax-"

Anger floods Tommy, heating his face, a rushing sound in his ears as he stands quickly, taking Jax with him. "How the fuck would you know what she wants?"

"Because she's a mom! How pissed would she be if something happened while we were lookin' and waitin' for her?"

He's pissed. So pissed but mostly because his brother is right. Daisy would skin him alive if something happened to Jax while they were looking for her.

"I… I can't…"

Joel grips his shoulder. "We'll go to the cabin still. It would be a safe place to hunker down. Leave her a note or somethin' but we have to go. Now."

Tommy nods, succumbing to his brother's order. They all head back downstairs, Tommy grabbing the pad of paper and pen that they always kept near the phone. He quickly scribbled a note to Daisy, telling her they had Jax and were heading to the cabin and to meet there. He ended it with an I love you, taking a shuddering breath as he sets the note on the table, Sarah placing Daisy's backpack next to it, the one she had packed last night in preparation for their weekend trip. While he wrote, Jax had grabbed his own little pack and Joel grabbed any food he could carry from the cabinets, tossing it into some grocery bags that were stored under the sink.

They all head to the front door, Joel doing a quick scan of the area before they silently move back towards the truck. Tommy takes one last look inside, speaking quietly while saying an internal prayer.

"Please be ok, Daisy."

The highway is blocked, everyone having the same idea as them. They cut across a field, intending to take a shortcut through town, but then chaos erupts. People pour from a movie theater, yelling, screaming, biting, and then Sarah yelling from the back seat before the sound of a plane crashing, way too close for comfort. And then his world flips, goes dark for a brief moment before Tommy wakes, upside down, the sounds of terror from the street quickly roaring back to life.

"DADDY!"

Jax's scream wakes him from his stupor, spurring him into action. He quickly undoes his belt, seeing Joel stir next to him.

"You ok, man?" Tommy asks as he drops to the roof, which is now the floor, with a grunt.

"M' fine. Sarah!"

"I'm stuck!"

Tommy sees Joel hit the roof and scramble out to get Sarah. Tommy does the same, whipping out his pocket knife and cutting Jax loose from the car seat Sarah had buckled him into when they left. He grabs him before he hits the floor and pulls him from the truck, faintly registering Sarah whimpering as Joel pulls her from the truck, another car slamming into it a moment later. Jax screams and buries his face in Tommy's neck, his little backpack somehow clutched in his tiny fist.

The truck is on fire and Tommy steps back, quickly grabbing up the shotgun that had slid from the truck when it had flipped. He looks over the hood at Joel, cradling Sarah in his arms but blocked in the alley.

"Go! Meet up at the river. Get her out of here, Joel!"

Tommy tightens his grip on Jax. "Keep your eyes closed, bud. Hold tight. I've got you."

He runs, his eyes on everyone and everything as they make their way down a few blocks before cutting down a side street. Mercifully, none of the things seem to notice them, too caught up in the chaos of the street and they make it around the edge of buildings and towards the river. But then he sees them, Joel cradling Sarah and pleading with a soldier who has his gun fixed on them. He quietly sets Jax down, who seems to sense the seriousness of the situation, and flattens himself to the ground, just like he does when they play soldiers.

Tommy raises the shotgun and takes a few steps. But then he hears a shot ring out and sees Joel and Sarah go down, the soldier stomping up to Joel, who's raising his hands, pleading, begging, telling the man they aren't sick. Without hesitation, Tommy clears the last step to put him in a decent range and pulls the trigger, the soldier instantly going down. Joel looks up at him, gratitude on his face. But Tommy doesn't see it. All he sees is Sarah, blood covering her shirt as she gasps on the ground.

"Oh God."

Joel snaps his head around and sees her, rushing towards his daughter. Tommy feels Jax hold onto his leg as Joel screams to Tommy for help. But what is he going to do? He has no medical training and he doubts the med pack on the soldier would do much-

"MOVE!"

In her element, Rose comes from nowhere, her shoulder jamming into Joel to move him aside as she expertly moves her hands over Sarah, ripping her shirt open. She confidently gives some orders to Joel, who takes a second to respond.

"Joel!"

He shakes his head and moves, doing exactly as she says when she says.

"Tommy! Bring me his med kit," Rose nods towards the fallen soldier.

In one swift movement, Tommy scoops up Jax and runs as fast as he can to the soldier, patting down his body until he finds the kit, yanking it from his vest.

"Tommy!"

"Joel, here!" Tommy tosses the kit to him, Joel catches it and rips it open, doing exactly what Rose says, while also trying to keep Sarah calm. But as he watches her work, Tommy knows there's no way she will be able to save Sarah with just a field patch kit. He glances down at the soldier, his walkie dangling from his shoulder and an idea occurs to him. He kneels, picking up the walkie and pressing the button, waiting a moment to talk.

"Soldier down, over!"

A moment passes before the static sound of someone picking up echoes across the small lot. "What's your position, over?"

"Back by the river. Murkmire street. Over."

"Stand by. We'll be there in 2, over."

There's nothing left to do but watch and pray that Sarah makes it not just for him and Jax, but for Joel. Especially for Joel. Tommy doesn't want to think about what would happen to Joel if Sarah…

"Daddy, is Sarah ok?"

Tommy looks down at Jax tucked into his side, his eyes wide and worried and it breaks his heart how much trauma Jax has had to see in the last few hours.

"I don't know, bud."

He nods, looking over towards her. "Rose is good doctor. She will help Sarah be better."

"I hope so, little man."

Tommy keeps an eye on the perimeter as Rose races to keep Sarah alive. After the longest 2 minutes of his life, Tommy sees the army truck pull around the corner, stopping just short of the soldier and Tommy. They jump out, raising their weapons to Tommy, who raises the shotgun in the air before slowly setting it down.

"Back up!"

Tommy does as he says, keeping his free hand in the air while the soldier moves towards their fallen man. But before he can say anything, Rose’s voice booms across the short distance.

“He’s gone. I couldn’t save him. But she can still be saved if you get us to med.”

The soldiers blink, staring down the several feet towards Rose, whose hand is now buried inside Sarah’s stomach, literally holding her life in her hands. They raise their guns towards them too but Rose just shakes her head.

“None of us are bit. She was shot. I need you to take me to med so I can save her.”

The soldiers look nervously from one to another before their leader replies.

“I’ll have to call this in.”

“Can you call it in while we’re en route?”

The soldier thinks for a moment. “How do I know if you’re telling the truth?”

“You can shoot us if we aren’t. But we have to do this now.”

The soldier hesitates for one more moment, glancing down at Sarah, who’s head was starting to loll from side to side as Joel speaks to her, trying to keep her conscious.

“Alright. Pull the truck around and help her load up. Do as she says when loading, I don’t want blood all over the back.”

“Yes sir!”

Everyone springs into action and before Tommy can even blink, they’re all loaded in the back of the army truck, racing towards the temporary medical camp they had erected at a nearby clinic. They whisk Sarah and Rose away, Joel not allowed to follow his daughter back to the quarantined rooms. Soldiers have to beat him back, but Tommy steps forward, Jax still clutched to his side.

“I got him! Joel. Joel! Look at me.”

Joel spins and looks at his brother, his eyes wild as he focuses on him.

"Hey man. If anyone here can save her, Rose can. But you gotta stay here. Keep out of her way. That's how you can help her. Ok?"

Joel's eyes are hard, but then he nods, crumbling to the floor. Tommy joins him, Joel clinging to his shirt as he cries for his daughter, Jax's little fist twisting into Joel's shirt as he tries to hug his broad shoulders. They stay like that for a while, Joel eventually settling, accepting Jax as he crawls into his lap, hugging onto his neck. Just when Tommy was about to go find some food, the doors open and another doctor walks out and over to them.

"Millers?"

Joel jumps to his feet and Tommy reaches over to take Jax, who had fallen asleep.

"Is she ok? Is my daughter…"

"She's alive. Thanks to that doctor she came with. If it wasn't for her, she wouldn't have made it."

Joel lets out a puff of air, silent tears falling down his cheeks. "Can I see her?"

"Yes. Follow me."

They follow the doctor through some doors and then she's there, so small and frail looking on a makeshift stretcher bed, Rose next to her holding her hand while Sarah sleeps. As soon as Joel walks in she stands, motioning to Joel to take her place, which he does, immediately holding Sarah's hand.

"I'm here, baby girl. I'm here." His eyes are only for Sarah, but he reaches out and grips Rose's arm. "Thank you."

"Of course. We'll talk later. For now, let her rest. And you get rest too, ok? Doctor's orders." She kisses the top of his head and gives his hand a small squeeze before walking towards the door.

"Are you guys ok? Where's Daisy?"

Tommy can feel his face harden. "She's not with us. I'm not sure where she is."

Rose nods. "I'm sure we'll find her. There's no way she would let anything keep her from you guys."

"Thanks, Rose."

3 weeks. 3 weeks have gone by since the world went to shit and the last time he'd seen her. The love of his life, the mother of his son.

Daisy.

Sarah was healing fast and well, even able to walk around the clinic several times before needing a break. She was eating and it was apparent that her wound was not going to affect her eating.

But Tommy, while ecstatic for his niece, was more than antsy. He was sick in his stomach at the thought of Daisy being out there alone. He couldn't think about the alternative, so he focused on that, convinced she had gone to the cabin like they'd said to do in the note.

"I have to go find her, Joel."

Joel looks up from where he sits. "You just gonna walk the 150 or so miles?"

"If I have to."

"You have a responsibility here. To Jax. To us-"

"I made a vow to her, Joel! She's my wife. I need to find her!"

Joel stands facing his brother. "I know, Tommy. But you have a job here. You have to protect him."

"But-"

"I promise, as soon as we can, we will all go to the cabin to find her. Ok?"

Tommy didn't fully believe his brother, not when there were whispers of a quarantine zone, and towns being erected by FEDRA that were supposed to be safe. He can't imagine Joel would give up safety for Sarah for his wife. But he was right - if anything happened to Jax, Daisy would straight up murder him.

A few days later, Rose quietly comes into the room to check on Sarah, closing the door behind her, which she rarely does. She leans over Sarah, who happened to be napping with Jax snuggled up next to her. Joel immediately moves to her side, his eyes glued to Rose.

“I think we need to leave here.” She says it so quietly, Tommy almost thinks he heard her wrong, moving closer to hear her better.

“Leave? Why?” Joel whispers back.

She glances towards the door and back at Joel. “I’ve heard…rumors. Quarantine zones-”

“Yeah, we have too,” Tommy cuts in. Joel glares at him, silently telling him to shut up.

“Yes, but I hear that once we’re all vetted, we won’t be able to leave.”

“What?” Tommy says out loud, Joel immediately shushing him.

Rose looks from Joel to Tommy and back. “Being locked in somewhere doesn’t sound good. Not with FEDRA running the place.”

“But wouldn’t it be safe for us? For the kids?” Joel asks, his eyebrows pulling up.

Rose is quiet for a moment. “I want to say yes, but really, I don’t know. FEDRA is already controlling this place, rationing out meager supplies and I know they pocket things for themselves. They’re scrambling and I don’t want an organization in panic mode to tell me what to do.”

Joel looks down at Sarah and Jax, still peacefully sleeping on the bed. He sighs, pushing some hair from Sarah’s face before looking back at Rose.

“So we have to leave.”

It takes them the rest of the week, but Joel and Tommy secure a car, big enough for them and some supplies. It should have enough gas to make it to the cabin, as Tommy and Joel went around siphoning gas from the surrounding cars to add to theirs. They carefully covered it with matching debris to hide it, crouching down and sneaking back under the fence to get more supplies that Rose had been tucking away all week. Medical supplies are already hard to come by and who knows what will be out there?

Under cover of night, just after a month after the outbreak happened, Tommy, Jax, Joel, Sarah, and Rose sneak out through the hole in the fence and make their way to the stashed car, grateful that nothing bothered them en route. Mercifully, they make it out of the area mostly unscathed, only having to run over a few runners on the way out. Once they get around the parked city traffic and onto the back roads, it becomes smoother sailing, probably due to the lack of people.

The closer they get to the cabin, the more nervous Tommy becomes. What if Daisy isn’t there? Would he really be able to leave Jax behind and go search for her? What if he never came back? Could he really live without Daisy? He gently pats the top of Jax’s head, which is currently in his lap, Sarah leaning on his shoulder completely passed out.

The sun starts to rise when they pull down the hidden drive to the cabin, Tommy sitting up a little straighter, shifting Sarah to lean against her window and Jax against her. His eyes scan the ground for tire marks, but of course, there are none. Either Daisy was smart and covered them or the elements did. They turn a corner and the cabin comes into view, the shutters still on all of the windows, looking exactly as it had when they were here last. Tommy swallows hard, his heart is racing and he feels like he’s going to vomit, almost like he can feel hope leaving him. Joel parks the car and Tommy gets out, grabbing his gun and closing the door behind him.

“I’ll check it out. You guys keep the kids safe. Anythin’ happens, just leave me. I’ll find you.”

“Tommy-”

But Tommy doesn’t hear him. He doesn’t hear anything over the rush in his head, tears threatening to spill from his eyes as he sees her emerge from the house, the love of his life.

Daisy.

>>Chapter 7>>

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finnsbubblegum · 2 years ago

Text

Becoming Mrs. Miller {Part 7: The Outbreak} (Joel Miller x Reader)

Pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader

Warnings: death of main character

Words count: 2.5k

A/N: Hi! This is part 7 for Becoming Mrs. Miller. But it can also be read as a standalone. I decided not to write summary and warnings to avoid spoilers. The scenes are mostly from TLOU Ep 1 with additions and some changes from my story. Hope you like it!

Also, thank you to everyone who has read my fanfics! I can’t believe I receive so much love by writing this fanfiction, especially since this is my first time writing fanfiction. I have always loved to write but my mom told me I’m so bad at it so there was a time where I hated writing. But lately, I decided to give it a try so thank you so much for your support!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

You and Joel went to bed after revealing your baby’s gender to him.

“Thank you for giving us a baby boy, darlin’. It’s finally time for me to have a sidekick from you and Sarah gangin’ up on me.” He joked and stroked your belly in circles.

“I’m gonna make him on my side.” You chuckled and put your hand on top of his hand.

“Nuh-uh. Not gonna let that happen.” He stroked your hair and gave you a kiss.

You moved your body closer to him and buried your face to his chest. He wrapped his arms around you and you fell asleep at his warmth.

*Phone vibrating*

“Ugh..” Joel groaned as he moved your head slowly from his arms. You mumbled something and went back to sleep.

“Hello?” Joel whispered so he didn’t wake you.

“Joel, it’s me. Uh, I’m okay.” It was Tommy.

“Yeah?” Joel rubbed his eyes.

“But I’m in jail.”

“Goddammit” Joel cursed at Tommy.

Apparently, Tommy got into a fight at the bar. It was Friday night so he asked Joel to bail him out. Unless Joel bailed him out, Tommy would spend the rest of the weekend at the jail.

“Okay. Fuckin’ idiot.” Joel hung up.

“Who was that?” You mumbled.

“It’s Tommy. He got into trouble. I gotta go get him.”

“Is he in jail?” You raised your head and got worried.

“Yeah, but don’t worry. Just go back to bed. I’ll be back soon. Okay?”

“Okay.”

Joel kissed your forehead before he slowly got out of bed and left to get Tommy.

You got awakened by the noises outside. Sirens wailing, blasting sounds, helicopters, car alarms, and dogs barking. You looked to your right to check the time. It was 2.16 AM.

“Mom?” Sarah knocked.

“Come in, sweetie.”

“What’s that?” Sarah asked why there were noises outside.

“I don’t know. Let’s check the news.”

“Where’s dad?”

“He went to get uncle Tommy.”

Sarah nodded. The two of you went downstairs and turned on the TV. The TV showed a black screen with a message from the government. Citizens were told to stay indoors and wait for further instructions.

“Everything will be fine.” Your heart was beating faster and you rubbed your belly to make yourself calm down.

“Mercy?” Sarah gasped as she found Mercy whimpering out of the door.

“Sarah, don’t go out.” You stopped Sarah from going near the door.

“I gotta get him back to the Adlers, mom.”

“No, stay. We were told to stay indoors. We don’t know what’s happening out there.” You insisted.

“Mom..” Sarah pleaded while Mercy kept barking.

“Okay, fine. I’ll go with you.” You caved in and went out to your neighbor together.

“Come on, Mercy. Please.” Sarah dragged Mercy from the collar but Mercy refused to go towards the Adlers’ house. Mercy’s collar broke and he escaped.

“Mom, their door’s left open.” Sarah pointed to the Adlers’ house and walked near the door.

“Don’t go inside. I’ll go.” You gestured to Sarah to stay behind you.

“Stay here.” You told Sarah as you slowly walked inside the Adlers’ house.

It was dark, quiet and the carpet was wrinkled. Something wasn’t right. Your heart was beating faster and you hugged your belly protectively.

“Mrs. Adler?” You walked to the kitchen and slipped. You fell and looked down and you saw blood. A lot of blood.

“Help me.” Mr. Adler was drenched in blood.

You looked to your right and found Nana, Mrs. Adler’s mother biting Mrs. Adler on the floor. You gasped. There was something coming out from her mouth. She looked at you and stood up. She screamed and started running after you. You were shaking and ran outside as fast you could.

“Sarah! Sarah! Get inside the house!” You shouted as you ran.

“What’s happening?” Sarah was shocked.

As you got to the front yard, you saw Joel’s truck.

“Get in the truck! Right now!” Joel yelled as he moved towards you.

“Joel..Joel..There-there was blood in there.. Mr. Adler..” You panted.

“You okay? Are you hurt?” Joel’s were on your shoulder and looked at you up and down. He saw your hands and your nightdress was colored in red.

“No. No. I slipped-I fell but I’m okay. It’s not mine.” You assured Joel.

Nana suddenly came out from the door and made a loud squealing noise. She crawled towards you and Joel. You could hear her bones cracking. Joel pushed you behind him.

“She-she bit-” You couldn’t find your words.

“What are we doing Joel?” Tommy pointed his gun to Nana.

Before Tommy shot her, Joel already hit her with the wrench he was holding.

“Joel-” You gasped.

“It’s okay, baby. It’s okay. We gotta go.” You panted and shook your head.

“Listen to me. It’s not just the Adlers. But we're gonna be brave, and we're gonna get outta this.” Joel held Sarah’s and your shoulder.

Then you heard an explosion, you flinched and covered your belly.

“Hey. Let's go. Come on.” Tommy shouted. You nodded and got in the car with Sarah.

“Dad, you killed her.” Sarah cried.

“Baby, I’m sorry.” Joel’s hand reached Sarah from the passenger seat.

You wanted to rub Sarah’s back to calm her down but you couldn’t. Your hands were soaked in blood and you hurriedly wiped it on your nightdress. Joel and Tommy were talking about which way to go and you saw a house was burning on fire.

“They’re saying it’s a virus..Some kind of parasite.” Tommy explained.

“Are we sick?” You could hear Sarah was really scared.

“No. Of course not.” Joel tried to reassure Sarah.

“How do you know we’re not sick?” Sarah asked again.

“We’re not, sweetie. We’re gonna be fine.” You stroked Sarah’s upper arm with your slightly clean hand to dispel her doubts and yours of course.

“They're saying it's mostly people in the city. That's why they got the highway blocked off.” Tommy added.

As Tommy drove away, you saw a family car break down and asked for a ride. But Joel told Tommy to keep driving. Your heart broke but Joel was right, you couldn’t just help anyone. What if they were sick and you let them harm you, your baby, and your family?

“Fuck! Everybody had the same fuckin' idea. I can't get through this.” Tommy hit the driving wheel and honked the car.

“All right, all right. Let's think it through, we'll think it through.” Joel tried to find an alternative.

Joel told Tommy to cut across and go west but the way there was already blocked by the army. Then Joel told Tommy to go north but Tommy doubted him.

“Well, we can't go south, we can't go east, we can't go west. Hell else we supposed to go?” Joel ran out of ideas. Tommy didn’t answer.

“Tommy, come on!” Joel yelled.

Tommy started driving to the town hoping to get a way out. Probably Mexico as long as they could get out of the town. As soon as they were in the town, there were already many people running and screaming. It was chaotic.

“Tommy, you can't stop here.” Tommy stopped the car because there were people around.

”I can't drive through 'em all.”

“Are you serious?! Just keep goin'!” Joel shouted.

“Joel! We gotta move!” You looked back and there was a plane crashing towards the car.

“Dad?!” Sarah saw it too.

“ Move! Move! We gotta get off this street now!” Joel panicked.

“Holy Shit! I'm tryin'!” Tommy panicked too.

The plane was going faster and near you. You were shaking and holding your belly. You didn’t want to die like this. Your baby hadn’t even been born yet, this couldn’t be the time you die. You closed your eyes wishing this was a dream.

*car accident*

Joel was grunting. He looked around the car. The car was turned upside down. You were unconscious.

“Sarah... (y/n). Stay right there. Don't move. Tommy, you okay?” Joel checked on each of you.

“Yeah, I'm okay.” Tommy was okay. He got out of the car on his own.

You opened your eyes slowly as you heard Joel’s voice. Your head was spinning and you couldn’t move. The first thing on your mind was your baby. You looked down and rubbed your belly. Then you felt pain in your ankle. Joel got out of the car and went to the backseat.

“Baby, you okay?” Joel moved to get you.

“I’m fine. Just get Sarah out first.” Sarah’s safety was your priority.

“Sarah... don't look. You look at me... okay?” Joel got Sarah out then he got back inside the car to help you out.

“Joel, I think-I think I’m hurt.” You winced.

“It’s okay, baby. Come here. Put your arms around me.” Joel took your arms and dragged you out.

“Where are you hurt, baby?” Joel checked you.

“My ankle.” You grimaced.

“We gotta get off the street!” Tommy yelled holding his gun.

A police car suddenly crashed from behind the truck. Leaving Tommy alone across the truck while you, Sarah and Joel stuck in the alley. Tommy was okay and he told Joel to meet him at the river.

“Head to the river! I'll find a way. Get the girls outta here, Joel! Go!”

“Can you run?” Joel asked you and Sarah. Sarah nodded but you kept quiet.

“Baby?” Joel faced you.

“No- I-.” You tried to move but your ankle hurt so much.

“Okay.” Joel put his arms around your back and legs to carry you.

“You keep your eyes on me. Sarah, you stay behind me. Don’t look anywhere else.” Joel was panting and you could hear his heart beating faster.

Joel froze for a moment. You looked around and you saw a pile of people eating each other. One of them stood up and saw the three of you. He looked like a monster. He stared at you and started moving. Joel started running, Sarah followed him.

“Come on!” Joel yelled at Sarah to get in front of him after he opened the door of a diner.

The man ran so fast behind Joel you could see him from Joel’s shoulder. Thankfully, his run was messy so he couldn’t keep up with Joel and Sarah. You heard a gunshot as Joel, you, and Sarah arrived outside the diner. It was a soldier. He shot the sick man. You were relieved.

“It's okay, baby. You're safe. We’re safe.” Joel's heartbeat was getting normal.

“Don't move!” The soldier shouted.

“My wife is hurt. Her ankle.”

“Stop right there!”

“Easy now. We're not sick! Please, my wife, she’s pregnant. And I got a daughter. She’s just a child. Please.” Joel begged.

The soldier was receiving a message from his radio and listened to it then he started pointing his gun at the three of you.

“We're not sick. We are not sick!” Joel fell, you screamed and Sarah screamed too.

The three of you rolled in the field. The soldier came near Joel to shoot him before he even got up. You heard gunshots. It was Tommy. Tommy shot the soldier. But then you felt pain on your stomach. You reached a hand on it and you felt warm liquid flowing. You started hyperventilating. It seemed that the soldier missed his shot. Instead of shooting Joel, his shot went through you. Joel and Sarah heard your pants and rushed to you.

“No. Oh no. Mom!” Sarah screamed.

“No, no. No. Move your hand, baby.” Joel went to check on you.

“I-I hurt the baby, don’t I?” You slowly moved your bloodied hand as you yelped.

“Don't look down, look up, look up.” Joel looked at your wound. You knew from his face, it looked bad.

“You're gonna be okay. All right... baby, baby, baby, listen to me. I gotta get you up, okay?” Joel slowly put you in his arms while the other put a pressure on your wound but you winced and screamed in pain.

“I know, baby, I know, I know, I know, I know. I know it hurts.” Joel cried.

“Joel, I can’t. Just leave me-leave-leave us. Get-get Sarah safe.” You tried to hide the pain and reached your hand to Sarah.

“No. No. I’m not leaving you here. Not like this.” Joel didn’t want to leave you like this.

“Mom..” Sarah cried holding your hand.

You couldn’t believe you were destined to die like this, with a baby inside you. But you knew nothing could be done so you decided to accept your fate.

“Sarah, sweetie, you listen to your dad okay. Be a good girl. I may not be your biological mother but I have always… loved you like my own. I-I love you, okay?” You cupped Sarah's cheeks with your bloodied hand.

“I love you too, mom.” Sarah tears fell on your hand as she held your wrist.

“Now, will you go to uncle Tommy? Mommy has something to say to your dad.” You tried to breathe.

“Joel, listen to me. I-I’m sorry.” You cupped his cheeks. His hands were still pressing on to your bleeding stomach.

“No. No. We’re gonna get help. Get you help.” Joel cried.

“Joel, I-I don’t have much time. I-I’m sorry I couldn’t keep our baby safe. It’s okay. It-it’s not your fault. It’s my-” You had difficulty breathing as the bleeding continued.

“Stop. Stop talking.” Joel cut you.

“It’s o-okay. We-we’re just going to sleep. Our baby boy, I, we-we will see you in your dreams. It’s gonna be o-okay.” Your body started feeling cold and pale. Joel shook his head and tears streaming down his face.

“Will-will you kiss me one last time?” You cried.

Joel didn’t say anything and he gave you a kiss.

“Thank you. Thank you for marrying me. I-” You coughed blood.

“I love you, darlin’.” Joel knew what you were trying to tell him.

“I-I love-” You breathed out your last breath before you even finished the sentence. Your eyes were left open.

“No! Baby, come back! No! Come back to me please! Tommy help me!” Joel raised you to his chest and cradled you.

“Mom!” Sarah cried and Tommy hugged her, stopping her from seeing your lifeless body. She was too young to see a dead body, especially her mother’s.

“Come on..Please..” Joel kept cradling you and crying.

After a moment, he suddenly stopped crying. He took your wedding ring from your finger, kept it in his pocket. It was the only thing he could take to keep a part of you stay with him.

“Thank you for everythin’. I love you.” He whispered to your ear wishing you could hear his words.

He kissed your lips even though it was covered in blood, he didn’t care. Before he got up, he closed your eyes, kissed your forehead, belly and left you laying there.

“Dad..What are you doing?” Sarah cried.

“Joel, we can’t leave her here.” Tommy was confused about Joel’s action.

He looked emotionless now. It was like he turned off a switch in his heart. Not letting any emotions attach.

“Let’s go.” Joel walked away.

The End.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

A/N: This is the last part for "Becoming Mrs. Miller" series and thank you so much for tuning in. I’m sorry if I broke your heart. I had this idea and kept wondering what if Joel’s love of his life died instead of Sarah. I have always loved romance stories that made you cry and made you hard to move on so I had to write it 😭 because I didn't want to let it go to waste and just let it stay in my head. I don’t want to write this in the beginning of the story because I don’t want to give you spoilers, please don’t attack me. 😭 I will write more fanfictions since I still have more ideas on my notes. Currently, I will continue “I Don’t Deserve You” series. So if you like my work, don’t worry because I’m still here to entertain you. Love you!

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@moonlightdivine @harperdoodle @ameliadraws @soldierheart @mrsyixingunicorn10 @happinessinthebeing @nyotamalfoy

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