#Pedro pascal | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tightjeansjavi · 2 days

Text

My Joel,

A/N: I have not written a fic with this many words in a HOT minute, and boy does it feel good! What a cathartic experience this has been for me after writing Joel’s letters. I did not expect so many of you to want Joel and his dearest to have an alternative ending, but here we are 🤭 writing this has been a real treat, and I hope I have done their backstory and alternative ending justice! Buckle up, because you’re in for a wild ride! Thank you to @beardedjoel for letting me spam you with all the updates and screaming along with me 🥹 thank you to @strang3lov3 for betaing and creating these STUNNING divider mood boards for each section of the fic 💘

~word count: 14.4k~

Summary: the story of two forbidden lovers finding each other once more.

Pairing | forbidden lover!joel x f!reader

Warnings: angst, fluff, smut, infertility, canon typical violence, mutual pining, child abuse, mentions of S/A accusations (not by Joel) misogyny (not by Joel) homophobia/homophobic slurs (not by Joel) mutual pining, hopeless romantics, forbidden love, societal status, somewhat historically accurate language, arranged marriage (not to Joel), language, mentions of alcohol and tobacco products, virginity/virginity loss, happy ending/alternative ending, no age gap, reader has no physical descriptions, +18 minors dni!

My Dearest,

June 1st, 1844

“This evening you are to meet the banker's son, daughter.” Your mother’s sickly sweet voice floated through your room, where you sat along the cushioned bench beneath the long window, your palm resting along your chin as you gazed out towards the gardens, the grass an unnatural shade of green compared to the common folk and farmers that would only dream of stepping foot on your family's estate. Your wealth was directly a result of your fathers parents, and their long lineage of thoroughbred horses. Your own mare was a descendant of the original three stallions imported into England in the late 1600’s.

But you were more focused on the man leading your mare, and her two stallions flocking at her hindquarters from the pasture: your Joel.

Joel Miller was a mere stable hand who was entrusted by your father himself to care for your family's prized horses. But to you? Joel was much more than just a stable hand. In fact, you begged your father one summer to increase Joel’s pay when he proved to be knowledgeable with the horses and their needs. Your father agreed, but refused to dote Joel with a new title. He was penniless compared to you, but you saw his heart before you saw his status in society. And he? He loved you from the moment you first met.

Spring, 1839

“Sir, sir!” A young Joel, 13 years of age burst into your fathers parlor, his hand-me-down clothes were soaked to the bone as the storm raged on outside the estate walls. “Dahlia’s womb has breached! Her foal is on the way!” He exclaimed with excitement.

Outside of your families prized stallions, the mares were just as valuable, bearing the next line of champions, no doubt. Dahlia belonged to your mother, and this was her third foal. Your mother couldn’t stand the presence of Joel in her home, dripping all over the floor, creating a puddle of water along the artisan rug beneath his muddy boots.

“Boy!” She snapped, setting her book down along her skirts where she was sitting near the fireplace, with perfect posture. Her eyes held a cold, unnerving stare. “You are in no state to be in my home looking like—” her pointed comment was cut off by the double doors leading to the parlor bursting open, to reveal your excited, and visibly out of breath face.

“Dahlia’s foal is on the way?!”

It was past your bedtime, but down the hall you heard the news of Dahlia, and couldn’t contain yourself. You were still in your nightgown, your hair in braids with bows tied into the ends. Joel felt a flush immediately rise to his damp cheeks at the sight of you. You were as pretty as a flower, the same age as him, and he wondered why this was the first time he’s seen you, till he remembered that most girls your age spent their days indoors preparing for marriage to a suitable husband of their fathers choosing, and inevitably bearing children down the line.

Just as quickly as his gaze fell upon you, he looked away, clearing his throat to hide the redness rising in his cheeks.

“Daughter!” Your mother scolded you when you rushed into the room and didn’t curtsy upon your arrival. She had yet to notice the bows in your hair when you quickly curtsied, fingers delicately grasping the hem of your nightgown as you bent down at the waist, one foot in front of the other just as it was ingrained into your brain for years. “Apologies, mother.” You softly squeaked out in embarrassment.

She shook her head, a displeasured look fell upon her hardened features. She rose from the couch, silk shawl clenched in her fist as she crossed the room and draped the garment across your shoulders. “Cover up your modesty.” She snapped unkindly. “Men should never see a lady in her night garments.”

I am not a lady, mother. I am a child! Is what you wanted to say, but instead you weakly nodded, muttering another apology under your breath. That’s when your mother took notice of your braids and the bows tied at the ends of them, a sign of innocent youth when you were to become a woman. She scoffed, nose upturning at the sight of them. Her cruel hand rose and fell, landing harshly against your soft cheek.

Joel visibly flinched from the sound, feeling his blood begin to boil under his soaked clothing. You had done nothing wrong! And who in their right mind slaps their own child!

Your skin stung, tears welling and nearly breaching down your cheeks when she yanked the bows from your braids and mockingly held them in front of your face. “These are for little girls. You are to become a woman, or have you forgotten?”

Your lower lip wobbled, and your knees trembled. Your eyes frantically searched the room, landing upon your father who paid no mind to your distress. He was too busy puffing away on his cigar, and even if he didn’t agree with his wife’s treatment upon you, he didn’t dare speak up about it.

“Joel, be a good lad and fetch my daughters coat. I will not be treading out in a storm such as that one, but someone from our family should be present for the birth of Dahlias foal.” He gruffed out. “Let us hope for a strong colt. There are too many fillies prancing around here.”

“Sir—” Joel started, but was cut off.

“Fetch her coat, and do not make me ask you a third time, boy.” He sternly reiterated.

“Yes, sir. Right away!” He nodded, quickly turning on his heel and exited the parlor, his eyes met your teary-eyed one briefly before he disappeared behind the open doors.

“Our daughter has no business going out in this storm, husband! Especially not with the likes of that—boy.” She seethed, stepping back from your trembling frame and walked in the direction of the fire, the now crumpled bows in her fist. She wasted no time to throw them directly into flames, watching as they were burnt up into ash immediately.

“Relax, wife.” Your father sighed, tapping out the ash from his cigar into the crystal ashtray along the table, “she is in good hands with Joel, I trust him.”

“Excuse me, miss?” a timid, youth filled voice appeared behind your shoulder, hand outstretched with your coat grasped between his fingers.

You sniffled, turning to face him and quickly wiped at your brewing tears with the back of your hand. “Thank you, Joel.” You whispered, fingers brushing his gently as you removed your coat from his grasp.

He nearly shied from your touch, a series of tingles and sparks shooting up his spine when he felt your soft touch for the first time. You reacted all the same; shocked gazes meeting before he was stepping to the side for you to pass by him first, a gentleman in nature despite coming from nothing. He cleared his throat, offering you his elbow to brace against the pounding rain and blustering winds. “I’ve got you, miss.” He whispered as your palm gently rested along the crook of his elbow.

Despite your mother’s incessant protests, Joel Miller guided you outside, acting as a physical shield as you endured the storm together. Once inside the safety of the barn, Joel parted from your side, grabbing a nearby stool for you to sit upon before entering Dahlia’s stall. You watched in pure curiosity and amazement as Joel spoke softly to the mare while her head rested in his lap. Beast trusted man; man trusted beast.

When Dahlia’s foal was born, she was not blessed with a strong colt like your father hoped for, but instead a filly. She was smaller than Dahlia’s other foals, and coal black unlike her mother’s dazzling, dappled silver coat. Joel helped the young filly stand on her long, spindly legs so that she could nurse. He was incredibly gentle, letting the filly lean her weight into him. Although Joel knew he was not allowed to name the horses, he started to call the filly ‘Little Shadow’ and only left the stall when he was certain she could stand on her own.

That’s when he remembered he wasn’t alone, and that you were still sitting upon the stool, hands clasped in your lap.

“Wanna meet her?” He suddenly asked, wiping his hands down on a nearby towel.

“Oh…” you trailed off, “I’m unsure if—”

“Nonsense.” He shook his head, a small, boy-like grin tugging on his lips. “M’sure your father would want you to have the full experience, would he not?”

“Yes, I suppose he would.” You agreed and graciously took his hand when he offered it. “He will be displeased to hear that Dahlia did not bear a strong colt.”

“I never understood that.” He mused, helping you down from the stool and gently released your hand. “A healthy foal, no matter the sex, is better than an unhealthy one, is it not?”

“Yes, this is true.” You nervously toyed with a loose thread on your coat, avoiding making eye contact with him. “She is…small though, is she not?”

He took no offense to your lack of direct eye contact. He felt undeserving to be in your presence, let alone hold your gaze? “Forgive me if this comes across negatively, miss. But must you always speak so…proper?”

You turned your nose up at his question, dropping the loose thread from your fingertips, “I am to be a lady, Joel. This is how ladies talk.”

He snorted under his breath, shaking his head and shoved his hands into the pockets of his trousers. “I suppose you are right. And to answer your question, she may be smaller than the rest of Dahlia’s offspring, but her legs are long, and strong.” He commented thoughtfully as he walked over to the nursing foal. “She will be a winner one day, no doubt.”

“Do you wish to name her, Joel?” You asked softly, standing alongside him with your hand outstretched to gently pet the fillies jet black neck.

“Oh, miss—I could never. I was only calling her Little Shadow because well, she is like a Little Shadow.”

“I don’t think father would approve of Little Shadow…but I think Shadow is a fine name for her, sir.”

“Miss, I am not a sir.” He sighed, reaching behind him to rub the back of his neck. “I’m just a stable hand. I do not possess any titles, and I never will. I agree, Shadow is a fine name for her.”

“Joel, I have heard that you are more than just a stable hand, but I address every man as sir. It’s how I have been taught.”

He looked over at you, eyes scanning the side of your face, the same side where your cheek had been struck by your mothers cruel hand. “That it be true, I am not a man, miss. I am just a boy.”

Silence fell between the two of you while you continued to gently stroke Shadow’s neck. You could feel Joel’s gaze landing on your cheek, but you chose to ignore it despite the heat that was slowly beginning to rise to your cheeks.

“Miss…?” He sounded unsure of himself, nervous, apprehensive of the words he was about to speak next,

“Yes, Joel?”

“Forgive me, I should not be uttering these words to a lady like yourself, but the bows in your hair…I thought they were quite—pretty.” He whispered the last bit, expecting you to scold him, to scream, and surely send him to the gallows for even thinking of you in that inappropriate manner, but instead, you smiled softly.

“Thank you, Joel. Mother…doesn’t approve of them. Says they are for little girls, and not for a lady to be. But they are just ribbons, are they not? I like how they look, and I wish she did too.” You sighed, eyes casting downwards.

He was more bold this time around as the images of your mothers hand making contact with your soft cheek flashes in his mind, “she should have never laid a hand upon you like that, miss. You did nothing wrong! Forgive me—I have forgotten my place.” He dropped his chin between his shoulders in shame.

You wept then, fat tears rolling down your cheeks at the phantom sting of your mothers palm. You slowly sank down into the straw bed, head in your hands. You looked so small, frail, weak, and Joel never wanted you to feel this way again.

At first he didn’t know how to react to your distress, but soon he found himself sinking down to his knees in front of you, his hands trembling as he reached out to grasp your covered shoulders, “my dearest, do not weep, please. Your mother has never learned kindness in her life, but you? You—” he struggled to find his words, his empathetic nature coming out in full swing.

You slowly tilted your chin upwards to meet his gaze, glassy eyes boring into his. You both took a sharp inhale of breath, time seemed to cease completely. The storm outside raged on, the wind whipped and howled outside the heavy barn doors when Joel Miller’s calloused palms gently cradled your face, thumbs brushing away your glistening tears.

1842

Spring turned to summer, summer to fall, and fall to winter. Your Joel transformed into a man before your very eyes. In your youth he showed you how to run, to make mud pies, to swim in the river, despite your mothers disapproval. Your father showed an inkling of care to allow your years before marriage to be spent with Joel by your side.

On the approach of your sixteenth birthday, Joel Miller no longer looked like a boy in your eyes. He was a man, and for the first time in your life, you felt that forbidden part between your thighs come alive at the sight of him. He had grown taller, his arms filling in, paired with strong thighs. The muscles in his back and shoulders were defined with laborious hours of work. His chiseled jaw was speckled with facial hair, paired with unruly curls that you wished you could feel their softness between your fingers. You found yourself transfixed by his lips and often imagined how they would feel pressed to yours in a heated embrace. The only thing about your Joel that didn’t change with age was his eyes; the deepest pools of brown that always appeared lighter when he was graced with your presence.

Your father treated him like a son, inviting him out on the weekends to go fox hunting with your brothers. The prospect of attending college was even on the horizon for him, and Joel could taste his new life brewing on his tongue. His feelings grew for you over the years, feeling his heart flutter and clench whenever you would look his way. Even in your modest attire, he envisioned your womanly figure beneath your layers of tooled skirts. Every night before he laid his body to sleep, he would imagine your lips pressing to his own until the thought of it had begun to drive him mad.

So upon your sixteenth birthday, he approached your father in his office with only one thought on his mind; asking for your fathers permission, and blessing to court, and eventually marry you.

“Come in.” Your father’s voice rasped behind the closed door.

Joel took a deep breath, rubbing his sweaty palms along the front of his trousers, bringing one hand up to smooth down his untamed curls. His calloused palm grasped the brass handle and slowly pushed it open.

Your father was seated behind his desk, cigar smoke wafting through the air in a swirling pattern from where it rested between his lips. He looked at Joel expectantly, arms crossed behind his head in a lax position. “Joel, my boy. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Joel stepped inside the room, closing the door behind him softly. He momentarily glanced out a large window overlooking the gardens where in just a few hours, your party would be in full swing. “Good afternoon, sir.” He nodded curtly, “beautiful day we’re having, yes? The weather will be exceptional for your daughter's birthday this evening.”

My Dearest.

“Yes, indeed. The weather has been lovely.” Your father mused. “If you’re asking if you can attend tonight’s festivities, you already know my answer, Joel. The lady of the house wouldn’t stand for it.” He waved his hand in a dismissive manner.

“Yes, of course, sir. I won’t be on the grounds this evening. A few friends have invited me to the tavern for drinks. I won’t be out late, I swear it.”

“I see.” Your father nodded, “a handsome young man such as yourself oughta get out there more.” He agreed, “So, what are you here for then?”

Shit.

“Sir, I have—known your daughter for many years now, as you are aware. I am also aware that she has many suitors lined up to offer her hand in marriage, but sir, if I was given your blessing, and permission, I would—”

“Joel.” Your father’s tone cut through the younger man like a sharpened blade. “My daughter has already been promised to another. Do not take me for a fool, boy. I have seen the way your gaze lingers on her longer than what would even be described as appropriate. I see the way she looks at you, Joel. I have bit my tongue on this matter because I happen to like you, son. What I can offer you is another lady, at your choosing. You can live a happy, comfortable life and hold a title that you would never otherwise possess. My suggestion is that you accept my generous offer, and throw away your fantasy of ever marrying my daughter.”

Joel swallowed his disappointment down with a heavy gulp. He was naive to believe that he could ever be granted with your fathers blessing. How foolish of him to believe that a man such as himself, would ever end up with the likes of you. It was a fantasy, an unattainable dream that he was better off extinguishing now instead of dwelling on what could never be. He nodded slowly, trying to ignore the way his heart submerged to the very pits of his stomach. “I understand, sir.” He finally spoke.

“Good lad. I knew you were a smart one from the start. Now, this stays between you and I, alright?”

“Of course, sir.”

“Good. You didn’t hear this from me, but the lady of the house plans to retire early this evening. If you see the opportunity to whisk my daughter away for one evening, take it. If it sours, do not even think about taking me down with you. Do I make myself perfectly clear?”

“Sir?” Joel sounded confused, his eyes going wide momentarily, “I’m confused—”

“Treat my daughter to a night that she will never forget, so that in her later years, when she is in misery after bearing her husband's children, and finds herself in a loveless marriage, she will have her memories of you to look back on. Do not, and I mean by any means, get caught and throw your life away so foolishly.”

“I—I understand, sir.” He stuttered out, his heart lurching in his chest at the prospect of one evening with you in his embrace. “Thank you, sir. Thank you.” He gushed earnestly.

“Leave now, Joel. Do not speak of this to anyone.”

“I won’t, sir. I promise.”

All evening you danced merrily and socialized with the upper socialites of Texas with a fake smile plastered on your pretty painted lips. You searched high and low for your Joel all evening. Your gaze lingered, heart skipping a beat anytime a man that resembled him would stride past, only to be met with bitter disappointment when they would turn their cheek towards you and the resemblance would dissipate like the bubbles in your champagne flute. Your mother had retired for the evening, and your father was in his parlor with his colleagues, smoking, drinking, and playing hands of poker.

And then you felt a presence brush past your bare shoulder, the skirts of your dress ruffling in the warm summer breeze. A shred of parchment was placed into your palm discreetly as you watched the inconspicuous figure disappear in the direction of the nearby stables. Once you were certain no one was paying any attention to you, you unfolded parchment, your heart surging at the familiar penmanship.

My Dearest,

Happy sixteenth birthday. Meet me at the stables in exactly one hour.

Your Joel

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, the butterflies erupted and fluttered wildly in your stomach, Your Joel. You brought the parchment to your lips, kissing his words, your lashes fluttering shut.

As the minutes ticked by, your excitement heightened, and when it was ten minutes to the hour, you snuck off to the stables with a visible pep in your step. The barn door was left ajar upon your entering, and when you turned the corner, you found your Joel inside of Shadow’s stall, bows and flowers were braided delicately throughout her luscious mane and tail. When he sensed your presence, he turned around, the biggest grin plastered on his face, dimples peeking through, one stray curl falling across his forehead that was begging to be brushed away by your soft fingertips.

“Joel.” You breathed out, smile mimicking his own.

“My Dearest.” His heart surged in his chest, and then you were launching yourself into his arms unexpectedly. He caught you, of course, hugging you tightly to his broad frame. “No one saw you, right?”

“No.” You shook your head, wrapping your arms around his neck while his hands fell to your waist. “Shadow looks beautiful! What’s the occasion?”

He chuckled warmly, tilting his forehead to rest upon yours with a sigh of relief, “she doesn’t look nearly as beautiful as you, darlin.’ And why for your birthday, of course!”

His warm, timbre laugh sent your stomach somersaulting, and your mind feeling dizzy. “An evening ride through the countryside, is that my present from you?” You teased him lightly, threading your fingers through the back of his hair.

“No, no, my sweet. It’s actually…a surprise. Are you up for it? Oh! You’ll be needing these, however.” He reluctantly departed from your embrace, stepping off to the side to lift a rucksack from the ground. “I believe they’re your size.”

You raised a curious brow as he handed the rucksack off to you. “You mean, I get an excuse to wear something outside of my fine dresses?” You gasped softly.

“Mhm.” He nodded, smile playing on his lips at your pure excitement over something so small. “I’ll uh—give you some privacy to change.” He cleared his throat, eyes dancing in the direction opposite of you as he turned on his heel so his back would be facing you.

Secretly, you wanted him to see you undress from your obnoxious layers and reveal your untouched skin to his admiring gaze. The times that you would swim in the river together were different. You were both still children, and your womanly curves hadn’t made their appearance just yet.

He silently listened to your fine skirts fall to the dusty barn floor and he was half tempted to peek, but remained respectful as you undressed. Once you gave him the okay, he slowly turned around to face you once more. Gone were your frilly heavy skirts that dragged along the floor with each step that you took. Your skirt was still long, but not as weighted and while the bodice was still fairly constricting, the sleeves were dainty and hung off the side of your shoulders like silk drapery. Your mother would certainly have a fit if she saw you dressed so un-modestly.

“So…” You trailed off, “how do I look?” You twirled on your heel, your smile never faltering.

He unashamedly looked you up and down, twice, before one strong arm looped around your waist and pulled you flush against his chest, caging you against him.

“Pardon my French, mademoiselle, but you look fuckin’ stunning.”

You giggled, hands resting against his chest to brace yourself against him. It was the sweetest sound that had ever graced his ears; your laugh.

“Thank you, sir. Mother would scold me if she saw me dressed like this!” You giggled again when his nose came to nuzzle against your cheek, bristles in his beard gently scraping against your skin, “she would, my dearest. But don’t worry about any of that, okay? Tonight you will have the time of your life with me, and your mother will have no say in it.” He assured you.

—

You rode into town on horseback, Shadow moving swiftly with Joel steering her with the reins and you behind him with your arms wrapped around him, pressing yourself as close to his back as possible. You had never been to a tavern before, but tonight would certainly be a night of firsts.

Your first sips of Ale were with Joel by your side, his shoulder brushing yours as he leaned over, warm breath fanning your face as he asked you what you thought about the taste.

Truthfully? Ale was not your first drink of choice, but you had an understanding for the appeal of it. Joel agreed, and whispered in your ear that he thought it tasted like shit. His tone and crude remark sent you giggling in tandem.

Now, whiskey on the other hand? You enjoyed the smoky flavor that lingered on your tongue and the way it instantly sent a warm fire simmering in your belly, and heat to flood your cheeks. You danced, laughed, drank and you even played a hand of poker! No one in the tavern knew of your status, your wealth. Everyone in the rowdy establishment was just there living, and you silently wished for your life to always be this freeing.

When the tavern closed for the night, you and Joel strolled down the street, hand in hand. The late evening air held that familiar summer sweetness, crickets chirping, fireflies dancing around your heads. Another pair of lovers strolled in front of you and Joel, seemingly unable to keep their hands off of one another as they neared the town inn. Would that be you and your Joel?

His palm felt clammy in your palm, but his face gave no distinction that he was absolutely freaking the fuck out inside at the prospect of finally getting the privilege to press his lips to yours.

“Shadow is staying at the inn’s barn for the evening, my dearest. It’s far too late for either of us to return back to the estate…” he trailed off, eyes casting in your direction to await your response.

“Joel…” you sighed, loosening your grip around his hand, nearly dropping it entirely. “We—we have to go back. Father, mother—”

“My dearest, your mother has retired early for the evening, and your father is probably too deep in a hand of poker to even notice your absence.” He spoke softly, slowly bringing your entwined fingers up to his face, illuminated in a soft, warm glow from the flickering street lights lining the walkway. He brushed his lips against the outside of your hand, eyes locking onto yours, “I understand if you don’t desire me the way I desire you, my dearest. And if that is the case, we can leave immediately—”

“I—I desire you plenty, my Joel. All evening at the party, I kept seeing the resemblance of your beautiful face in every male passerby, but none of them were you. I’m just—I’m so afraid, Joel. My heart—it feels so deeply for you, but it’s forbidden. You and I both know the bitter truth of what we can never be.”

“My dearest, tonight we need not be afraid, okay? It is your birthday, your special day, and there is nowhere else in this world that I would rather be, than here with you. I ask you for nothing, only to trust me. Trust your Joel.”

You could feel yourself caving into his words, your body drawn to be closer to him as if by some invisible force pulling you into his chest. “I trust you always, my Joel.”

He nodded, pressing another sweet kiss to the outside of your hand. You moved in sync, his strong, broad body caging you against the brick wall of the inn, his hands, calloused and warm, holding your face between them as if you were fine delicate china. His forehead came to rest upon yours, warm breath fanning your face, “can I kiss you, my dearest?”

“Please, my Joel.” You breathed out, fingers gently resting along the nape of his neck. “You—you will be my first.” You whispered.

“And you will be mine, my dearest.” He rasped, thumbs gently stroking your cheekbones, feeling his heartbeat faster, and faster, when his lips finally brushed upon your own, both of your inexperience showing, but nature took over when your lips finally met, pressing against one another. Your breath hitched in your throat, fingers tightening around his soft curls, pulling him in closer. You wanted to crawl inside his skin, make a home inside of his heart and never leave.

“I—have never felt a sweetness upon my lips till I have kissed you, my dearest.” He murmured sweetly against your locked lips, taking the leap of what felt right when your lips parted like the narrow sea for him to slowly lick into your mouth so your tongues could meet, and dance.

An unexpected moan slipped past your lips when he licked into your mouth, a sound only for his ears, sending blood flowing southwards beneath his trousers and directly to his groin. He parted from the kiss momentarily, a string of translucent saliva hung between your swollen lips. He dived back in seconds later, but this time you felt his lips upon your neck, sucking, kissing, licking at your throat and all the way back up to your lips.

“I scraped up enough money to afford us a night at the inn, my dearest.” He let out a soft grunt when your nails lightly scratched his scalp, and your fingers tugged on the root of his curls, “do you wish to—”

“Yes, my Joel.” You didn’t even wait for him to finish his question, you already knew your answer was going to be yes.

He chuckled at your eagerness, letting his hands drop from your face and rest along your waist, pulling you flush against his chest, “lay beside me tonight, my love?”

“Yes, my Joel. I wish for that.”

He smiled into the kiss, the butterflies in his own stomach were no longer fluttering wildly, his nerves were gone because never in his life had he been more sure about his feelings till now. It was a moment of calm that both you and he felt in one another’s embrace. “Then let it be known that tonight, beneath the stars, I will make love to you, my dearest.” The words he spoke fell like a sweet oath upon your lips.

You kissed him once more, before your lips parted, but only for a little while. He took your hand in his, fingers entwined and led you to the entrance of the inn. The room was paid for, and the excitement was beginning to tingle once more as he unlocked the door to the room you would share. A single bed to accommodate you both.

And when he laid you down, fitting in the space between your thighs, kissing every inch of your untouched skin, drawing sounds from your throat that you had never felt, nor heard before. Calloused palms moved with languid ease, undressing you with methodical care. You did the same to him, marveling at the flex of his muscles beneath your touch. He was so gentle, so patient as you parted for him like a blooming flower. He kissed you there, too. Dark head of curls moving between your thighs, strong fingers spreading you open where his tongue quickly found the little bud that had your whole body quivering, and your back bowing, arching from the mattress.

He kissed, licked, worshiped, suckled on your womanhood, the taste of you was something so foreign, yet familiar, and his cock grew heavy between his thighs, hips rutting into the mattress for any form of relief.

Your speech was slurred, broken, fragmented moans dangling from your lips, and you were only able to say one word; his name.

Joel, Joel, Joel, Joel.

And when the coil in deep within your tummy was pulled tight, and a burning warmth that could only be described as the feeling of heaven on earth, traveled from the tips of your toes and up your spine, you convulsed around his tongue, eyes rolling back into your skull, muscles spasming, your cunt pulsing, leaking along the sheets. He lapped up every sweet drop of your release, swallowing it down as if he was quenched with thirst. His eyes opened, dark pools of brown staring intensely into yours, grinning like a devil. His chin and beard glistening in your sweet nectar, illuminated by the pale moonlight casting in through the thin, billowing curtains.

He kissed up your body, finding your lips and molding his tongue around yours so you could taste yourself, too. He whispered sweet nothings between kisses when the heavy weight of his cock slowly began to press into you. Tears sprung from the sudden sharp pain caused by the stretch of him easing inside of you. He kissed away your tears, shushing you softly and promising you that it would feel good so soon, my dearest.

Your nails left crescents in his back, thighs wrapping around his waist when he was fully sheathed inside of your pulsing, hugging warmth. It was the tightest vice he ever did feel, and he never wanted to part from you.

“I’ve got you, my dearest.” He whispered upon your lips, drawing his hips back slowly, oh so slowly, before guiding them forward. The coarse dark hair on his pubic bone brushed against your own with each gentle thrust he gave you. A rhythm set in with his movements, your body naturally began to mold to his as you became one. Sweat soaked skin, tangled moans and limbs, wet kisses and words of love shared between what little space was left between you.

And when he spilled his seed deep within your womb, and he moaned your name, proclaiming his love and devotion for you with his face buried against your neck. You refused to part from one another, even as his cock softened inside of you, and your cunt no longer fluttered. You pressed your lips to his scruffy cheek, tangled your fingers through his now sweat soaked curls that were matted to his forehead and back of his neck. You held him, and he held you as the sun slowly began to rise, and the birds chirped cheerfully just outside the window.

“I don’t want to go home, my Joel. I want to stay here, with you…forever.” You whispered softly through the early morning air.

He shifted deep within you, lifting his chin and turned his cheek to the side, brushing his lips sweetly against your soft cheek. His eyes were sleepy, a dopey, boyish grin graced his features, lips curved in a perfect pout, swollen with your kisses, “I need not yet to part from you, my love. But I must return you home before your father and mother awake.”

You sighed softly, dropping your fingers from their grip on his hair to then drag across his jaw, nuzzling your nose against his and pressed a kiss to his lips, “our home, my Joel.” You gently reminded him.

He kissed you back, lashes fluttering shut to savor the moment before opening again so he could once again gaze upon your face and paint a picture in his memory to hold onto forever, “our home, my dearest.”

Reality began to rear its ugly head into both of your minds and he reluctantly parted from your kiss, drawing his hips back slowly to release his cock from your warmth. “We must return home, my dearest.” He sat back on his haunches, his softened cock wet, sticky with a mix of your combined releases and a thin layer of blood.

You slowly sat up, taking the coarse sheet with you as you gazed upon his groin for the first time. Even soft now, your sex induced eyes widened at the girth of him.

He, however, was more focused on the stain of blood on his skin, and swiped his thumb across it before his gaze landed on you, “have you…bled before, my sweet?”

You nodded, “yes, my Joel. I bleed the same time every month since my thirteenth birthday. Mother told me that it means I am ready to bear children, and I have become a woman. She told me that I would bleed again when my husband makes love to me for the first time.”

His chin falls between his shoulders, feeling them sink from the realization that he would never be your husband, and you would never be his wife. “Does it hurt…to bleed? Did I hurt you, my love?”

You shook your head, letting the sheets drop from your chest as you reached out to comfort him. “No, my love. It can be uncomfortable, but you did not hurt me. A dull sting is all I felt, nothing more. You took care of me.”

He reached for your hand, squeezing it gently as you emerged from under the covers, “my dearest, what is to happen if…you end up bearing my children? We are both so young, I wish not to steal what remains of your youth. You deserve so much more than only what is expected of you, my lady.”

You found yourself straddling his hips with your thighs on either side of him, caging his body around yours while his arms wrapped around your waist, using his core strength to stay upright as your hands came to rest upon his face, “if I bear your children, then we could marry, Joel. We could—be together!” You spoke excitedly.

“My dearest, I—have nothing to offer you. I am penniless…we are not of the same status, and your mother and father would never allow it.” His thumbs gently stroked the dimples in your back at the bottom of your spine.

“I will speak with my father! He will understand, he must! No man will ever wish to marry me if I am bearing another’s child! Father—he’ll have to agree!”

“My dearest, what if my seed doesn’t take to your womb the first time? What if we are unable—”

You cut him off with a swift kiss to his lips, pulling him in close with your hand resting along the nape of his neck, “then we keep trying till my womb is swelling with life.”

He kissed you deeply, feeling his cock begin to stir to life between your tightly pressed bodies. He nodded, a silent agreement as he dropped one hand from where it rested against your spine and dragged it between you so that he could grasp the base of his cock and slowly press himself inside of you once more.

By the time you and Joel arrived back at the estate, the sun was already beginning to rise high above the sky. The stables were empty upon your arrival as Joel helped you dismount from Shadow. He urged you to change back into your attire that you wore to the party so that your mother, nor father would raise their suspicions. You parted ways with a kiss, a longing behind his lips as he watched you leave his embrace and walk back into the life you had always known.

At the breakfast table your mother was quick to question why you were not present in your chambers at sunrise, but you already had a rehearsed script planned in your mind. Without missing a beat, you told the story of how you had a few too many flutes of champagne, and fell asleep in the gardens.

Your mother, of course, scolded you, but your father? He had a hidden, knowing smile playing beneath his mustache.

You and Joel were extremely cautious and strategic when it came to planning your rendezvous. They happened frequently, under the cover of night when everyone was sleeping. Sometimes in the stables, sometimes in the gardens, and you even returned to the inn a few times in secret. He could not get enough of you, your kisses, or your touch. The feeling was mutual, and you both knew that the deep, profound feelings you were both experiencing was not infatuation or lust, no, you and Joel Miller were madly, deeply, tragically in love with one another.

Even in the daytime he would seek your presence, asking your father if he could accompany you on a ride through the countryside as your guide, and protector. You had picnics by the river where he would lay his head upon your skirts, eyes closed blissfully as he listened to you read love stories from Shakespeare till he would drift off, soft snores escaping his lips, your voice lulling him to a sweet slumber. Your horses would graze side by side, his stallion, your mare. Their tails swishing to fight off the pesky flies.

Upon the approach of your eighteenth birthday, you wept in Joel’s arms, for no matter how many times he spilled his seed inside of you, your womb did not swell with life; his child. You feared that his love for you would sour and rot when you broke the mournful news to him beneath comfort of the shimmering moon, and twinkling stars.

“My dearest, why do you weep? Who, or what has caused my sweet love to shed her tears?” He sank to his knees with you crumbling in his arms. His heart felt like it was being shredded to fragmented pieces when your sobs echoed off the nearby hedges in the garden where your embrace was hidden.

“My Joel!” You cried, clawing at his arms with fat, heavy tears streaming down your cheeks, “I—I’m so sorry. I have let you down, my love.”

“My dearest, how have you let me down? Tell me what is wrong! What has happened?” He spoke urgently, tone hushed.

“My womb does not swell with life, Joel! We have tried, and tried! No matter how many times, it has been fruitless! I bear you no sons, no daughters—” you wailed mournfully.

“My sweet, are you certain of this? Oh, my girl…” he felt his own tears begin to prick his eyes as he began to gently rock you in his arms. “Do you weep in sadness, or in fear? I do not care that you cannot bear me any children, my dearest. My love for you will never sour.”

“Do not lie to me, lover!” You were on the edge of snapping through your tears, “when my sole purpose in this life is to marry and bear children to my husband! There must be something wrong with me, Joel! How can you say you love me when I cannot be the woman I am expected to be! I never can fucking—”

You surprised yourself and him by your sudden crude language, but then again, spending as much time as you did with Joel, his verbiage began to rub off on you, and yours onto him.

“Then don’t be the woman you are expected to be, my love! There is nothing wrong with you. Nothing, do you hear me? I love you as you are! You are my lady, for fucks sakes! You can be whoever you want to be with me! Do you wish to be a poet? Be one! Do you wish to be a scholar? A singer? Do you wish to live a normal life where your choices are not already chosen for you?!” His voice cracked, coming out as a hoarse rasp deep from within his chest.

You fought the urge to scoff and chide him for being so naive. “My life will never be normal! Don’t you understand?! All I know is what has been chosen for me! It doesn’t matter what I want, Joel! I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth! My studies, my thoughts, opinions, have all been predisposed! Even the fucking food I consume, and the clothing on my back has been chosen for me!”

“Of course I understand! All I have ever done is understand that you and I were never cut from the same cloth! And yet, I love you all the same because what else is a man to do? My sweet, we are weeks away from your eighteenth birthday! We can run away together and carve out the life of our choosing! Fuck your parents, fuck the society we live in! Do you want to marry a man you don’t love and live in misery?! Or do you want the chance to live! To wake up at your choosing, to wear what you desire, to love freely with no prejudice? To never again live under your parents control? Don’t you want to…love me?” He was exasperated, chest heaving, nostrils flaring from the pure passion oozing from his words.

You fell silent, your lower lip wobbling, eyes glassy with tears as you looked into his eyes, taking in the redness in his cheeks, the puffing of his chest—the love pooling in his dark irises, “of course I want to love you, my Joel. I—I’m afraid! Can’t you see that? I’m expected to marry and bear my husband's children and now I cannot! If we run away together, I’ll never be able to return home! What if our love isn’t destined to make it! What if we fail—”

“Of course I can see you’re afraid, my girl. I see it in your eyes and hear it in your voice! You are safe here, with me. With your Joel! I would never, ever, ever let anything happen to you. We may not live a life of riches, but we would live a life rich in love! I—I can get a job! I will work until my bones break if it means that I get to be with you. I’ll work the railways, the mines! Any job that I can take, I will, and I’ll do it all for you.”

You kissed him then, tasting the salt from your own tears and his upon your locked lips. “We’ll move west! As far west as we can! We’ll see the ocean for the first time, plot out our land and live out our days together!” You murmured against his lips.

“California.” He promised you, kissing you deeply as his hands came to cradle your face, “a sheep ranch with Shadow and Sunfyre.”

“Why sheep, lover?” You asked softly between desperation filled kisses,

“They’re quiet, do as they're told.” He teased, chuckling when you gently swatted at his chest for making such a comment.

“Ha, ha, very funny.” You giggled, which soon turned into a moan when his fingers slipped down to your waist and hastily began to unlace your bodice, while your hand drifted downwards to undo the string on his trousers. Neither of you knew that one of your own ladies, the same lady that had been promised to Joel by your father, caught the two of you in the gardens while she was out for a midnight stroll. Her presence was undetected as you sank down around Joel’s cock beneath your skirts, moaning his name unashamedly as your entwined bodies moved in sync.

June 1st, 1844

“Yes, mother.” You responded in a practiced, complacent sweetness to appease her.

“He will make a fine husband to you, one day.” She added, her perfectly dainty fingers came to rest upon your shoulder, squeezing it with anything but a comforting touch. She didn’t notice the way your gaze lingered on your secret lover, nor did she sense your longing.

“Yes, he will, mother. I look forward to making his acquaintance.”

“Good. You have grown into being a fine young woman, daughter. Your father and I are so very proud of you.”

If only they knew that you were not the perfect, proper lady than they believed you to be, and that your heart belonged to another man.

Your Joel had requested a private audience with your father leading up to the festivities surrounding your monumental birthday. And so after bringing the horses in from the pasture, he made his way to your fathers office, closing the door quietly behind him when he was given permission to enter.

“Sir, I have wonderful news to bestow upon you, Shadow is expectin’. She was showin’ early signs a few weeks back, but it is official.”

“Wonderful news indeed, Joel. And who is the lucky stud?” Your father asked, despite already knowing the answer.

“Sunfyre, sir.”

“Ahh. What a combination. A filly, as black as the night, and a colt, as golden as the sun. I wonder what their offspring will look like.” He mused.

Joel swallowed the lump growing in his throat, his palms growing clammier by the second. He took a deep breath to calm his budding nerves, “Sir, I need to disclose something to you, but before I do, I just wanted to say that I have appreciated being able to confide in you in some capacity. I am grateful that you have taken me under your wing and offered me the chance at having a better life, but your daughter—”

“Joel.” He warned, leaning forward in his chair with his hands clasped together. “Be extremely careful with your choice in words for whatever it is you are about to tell me. Perhaps I need to remind you where your place is? Maybe I should have been wary of confiding in you, boy.”

“Sir, please. You must hear this! If you care about your daughter's happiness, and her well being, you will listen to what I have to say. I swear that our conversations have remained confidential! I have spoken about them to no one, I swear it!”

Your father let out a deep sigh, bringing his hands to his face where he pressed the pads of his fingers into the deep set wrinkles in his forehead. “Go on then.”

“Your daughter—she is unable to bear children. She is afraid of what is to become of her if she cannot bear children for her future husband, sir. And I fear for her as well! Sir, men are unkind, and she is sweet. She is sweet and kind and deserving—”

Your fathers heart slowly began to sink, his composure crumbled because of his darling little girl, who would certainly face a life of hardship and misery if you could not bear children and enact your duties as a perfect wife for your husband. He didn’t agree with it, but that was how society worked. Men ruled the house, and the women cared for their husbands and children. “How do you know of this, Joel?” Your fathers tone wavered, his eyes casting in Joel’s direction and he saw a younger version of himself in your forbidden lover.

“Sir, you know the answer to your own question.” Joel nearly whispered, avoiding direct eye contact and let his gaze fall to a portrait behind your fathers desk, two young men with their arms around one another’s shoulders.

“You love her, don’t you?” His question hung heavy in the air.

Joel froze like a deer that was inevitably caught by hunters in the meadow. He couldn’t move, he couldn’t think as he listened to the sound of blood rushing in his ears and his pulse pounding, “with all of my heart, sir.”

Your father slowly nodded his head in understanding as he let out a sigh, “then you must know that you have to swallow down your feelings for my daughter for her benefit and your own. You are playing a dangerous game, Joel. One that could very well cost you your life.”

“I don’t fucking care. I have never loved another being outside of your daughter. Our love may be frowned upon and forbidden, but it is real. I have felt for her since I was just a mere boy, when the storm was raging outside and she accompanied me to see the birth of Dahlia’s foal. My love for her will never sour, it will never over ripen and rot like the low hanging fruit upon the trees. I have nothing to offer her but my heart, and that holds a weight more valuable than gold or silver.”

Your father smiled, one that did not reach his eyes as he slowly stood from his chair behind his desk and walked in front of it. “You remind me so much of my younger self, Joel. Willing to do anything for the person you love. Despite all the odds being stacked against you.”

Joel took a hesitant step back, the heel of his boot nearly catching along the rug, “do not patronize me, sir. I love your daughter, and nothing will stop me from loving her. Even after death, my love for her will remain.”

“Of course nothing will stop you, Joel. For what else is a man to do when he is in love?” He smiled sadly, a look of longing hidden behind his eyes. Joel knew the look all too well.

“I don’t—I don’t understand.”

“I’m going to tell you something that you have to swear you will never utter to anyone. It is a secret that you must take to your grave, Joel. You cannot even tell my daughter. Are we clear?”

“I swear I will not tell a single soul, sir. Not even your daughter will know.”

“Good, I trust you. You have a good heart, Joel.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Your father reached for his box of cigars, silently offering one to Joel who politely declined. It had been many, many, years since your father spoke about his past, and while he lit the end of the cigar, those memories began to surface. “I meant what I said when I told you that you remind me of my younger self.”

Joel nodded in understanding.

“When I was your age, the world was at my fingertips, Joel. It was my oyster, and I could have any lady of my choosing, but I had to marry. That was my parents one rule upon me was that I had to marry.”

“You could have any lady of your choosing, but it wasn’t a lady that held your affections, was it, sir?”

“No. It was not a lady that held my affections.”

“The man…in the portrait behind your desk, was he your…?”

“Yes, Joel. The man in the portrait was my lover. The butler's son nonetheless. I of course tried to appease my parents and court the finest lady in town, but my heart longed for my lover. We were going to run away together, Joel. It was all planned out, and I was ready to throw away my old life for him. It was, and still is taboo and forbidden to lay with the same sex. We were careful, until I came to him with the grave news that I would have to marry, and that we could no longer be together. He was angry, I was angry, we got reckless, and one night we were caught.”

“By…the lady of the house? Your now wife?”

He nodded, leaning back against the front of his desk, “yes, she was the one who caught us in the act, in my chambers. She screamed so loud, as if she was witnessing a murder! I begged her to keep her voice down but she wouldn’t listen. She was disgusted with me, and proclaimed that I would rot in eternal hell for the sins I committed.”

“What happened…to your lover, sir?”

“My own father nearly beat my lover to death in front of me. I was forced to watch the life drain from his eyes. I begged and begged for him to stop, to let him live! Maybe he would have, if it wasn’t for the lady of the house to spread a rumor that the butler's son came onto me against my will. My father didn’t want to believe that his son was a fairy, and so my lover was sentenced to hang. I visited him for the very last time when he was shackled, malnourished, and begging for death to take him. I stayed with him all night, praying that the sun would never rise. The following morning I was forced to watch him hang. Every single spectator in the crowd, except for me, cheered for the death of another fairy!” He used the back of his hand to swiftly wipe at his eyes when his tears began to well and roll down his cheeks.

“He was buried in an unmarked grave and I went through with marrying the lady of the house. I wasn’t given another choice, and on the night of our wedding, she whispered to me that she knew the truth, and that she wouldn’t hesitate to blackmail me for it.”

“I’m so sorry, sir. Your lover—you, I’m so sorry. I do not understand why people are so cruel and hateful. Love is love, is it not?”

“Please do not sympathize with me, Joel. I do not seek your sympathy. I am telling you this because if you do not swallow your feelings for my daughter, you will surely face the same fate that my lover did! Don’t you understand? She has been promised to another. She meets with the banker's son tonight and in time, they will be married. It is her duty and expectation. And you will have the choice to marry the lady I have chosen for you. Your love for my daughter will fade, and you will be grateful that it did.”

“How dare you! How dare you stand there—you coward! You could have been with your lover now if you had run away together! You had the opportunity, and didn’t seize it?! Don’t stand there and claim that my love for your daughter will fade, when yours for your dead lover has not! You stand there, weeping for him! Your life could have been different—”

Crack

Your fathers cruel fist made direct contact with Joel’s beautiful nose, the force of impact sending him stumbling backwards, clutching his face in despair as blood trickled and dripped between the grooves of his fingers, staining the golden threaded hearthrug in splotches of crimson.

“Get the fuck out of my office. It is clear that you have forgotten your place, boy. You will never marry the likes of my daughter.”

Joel retreated through the office doors with what remained of his dignity. He confided in your father purely out of trust, and he thought it was a mutual feeling. For the rest of the afternoon, leading into the evening, you did not see your Joel.

The banker’s son was polite, well-mannered, but goodness—was he a bore. You had no interest in hearing him drone on about the stock market in New York City. He didn’t bother to ask you about you, or your interests as they were already predisposed by your mother.

Fucking cunt.

He strolled with you in the gardens with your hand lightly grasping onto his elbow. Your eyes wandered off, in search for that familiar stature, and head of distinguishable dark curls as you passed by the stables, but your Joel was nowhere to be found. Your heart sank and you asked the banker’s son, Timothy, if he would mind giving you a moment of privacy in the garden's gazebo. He obliged, but not before he could press an affectionate kiss to the outside of your hand. The bristles in his perfectly groomed mustache tickled your skin before he reluctantly pulled away.

You let out a sigh of relief, your posture returning to a relaxed state as you watched him walk back towards the festivities inside. When you were certain that he was not lingering, you began to nervously pace the short distance inside of the gazebo, muttering about how Joel would never just leave you like this, would he?

Where the fuck was he?

Then you heard it, the groaning of the tired wood beneath his boots, and that warm, deep rasp in his voice. “My dearest.” He croaked, and you immediately knew something was wrong, something had happened. His voice sounded far more nasally, and when you turned around to face him, that’s when you noticed the dry, crusted blood beneath his fractured nose, the rusted blood stains in his white shirt. You ran to him, delicately cradling his beautiful face in your palms.

“My Joel!” You cried, “what has happened? Who has done this to you! Your nose—your beautiful nose!”

“Hush, my darling. It’s—just a fracture, lover. It will heal.” He lowered his tone to a whisper, his hands slowly coming to rest around your waist. “It does not matter who did this to me, my dearest.”

“How can you say such a thing? Joel, please, my love, who did this to you?” You softly begged, thumbs gently stroking the scruff speckled on his strong jaw.

“Your father.” He murmured, bitterness laced in his words.

“What?” You murmured in disbelief, dropping your hands from his face, refusing to believe it. “Why would he do such a thing to you! Joel, please, please tell me what happened!”

“My love, please promise you will not hate me for what I am about to utter. Swear to me that you won’t.” He pleaded, tightening his grip around your waist in fear that you would slip between his fingers like grains of sand.

“I swear it.”

“He knows about us, my dearest. He knows that I love you, and you love me. He knows that you cannot bear children because I am the one who confided in him this afternoon. I did it in hopes that he would understand, and stop the banker's son from courting you tonight. I—I thought maybe we wouldn’t have to run away, and we would be accepted as lovers!”

“Oh Joel, they will never accept us! You stupid, stupid, beautiful little fool.” You sniffled sadly, feeling your tears oncoming. “You are too good for this world and everyone in it! Your heart is made of pure gold, and I love you for it, but now you have put yourself in grave danger! That was so fucking stupid of you to do, lover.”

“My sweet, I may be a fool, but what else is a man to do when he is in love? Your father knows, yes, but now we must seize our opportunity to leave, tonight! The party is in full swing, is it not? No one will notice your absence, my dearest. If we don’t leave tonight, I fear we will never have another chance at eternal happiness.”

You swallow down your tears, melting into his embrace and his words. “The banker’s son waits for me inside, it will be suspicious if I do not return to him within the hour…” you trailed off.

“Are you having your doubts, my love?”

“No, no! Of course not. I am in fear that we will be caught if we aren’t careful, my Joel. I will return to him and you will go to my chambers. Lock the doors and do not open them for anyone. Take the back entrance, through the kitchens! No one will see you, I swear it.” You reached for his hands on your waist, interlocking your fingers through his.

“And you? I cannot fathom thinking of the banker’s son touching—”

“My Joel, please do not allow your thoughts to sour. I am expected to dance with him and when the timing is right, I will come find you. I promise.”

He nodded, bringing your clasped hands up to his face so he could kiss your knuckles, wincing from the dull ache in his nose.

“Together?” He murmured, eyes locking onto yours.

“Always.”

You parted ways after he kissed you, promising you that all this pain would be worth it in the end, and of course, you believed him, for what else is a girl to do when she is in love?

You returned to Timothy’s side, assuring him that you just needed to be alone with your thoughts. He was an understanding man, and you could understand why your father assumed that he would be a perfect match for you, but no one would ever be your Joel. And while you danced, and made small talk with him and his friends, Joel was making his way through the kitchens, ducking into one of the main hallways, muscle memory guiding him the way to your chambers, but unbeknownst to him, he was being followed.

It was a quarter to midnight and your lover could hear the party growing rowdier by the minute even behind your locked doors. He grew weary, doubts settling into his mind that perhaps you had forgotten him. Perhaps you were having a good time with the fucking bankers son. His spirits lifted when he heard the sound of a key being inserted in the lock. He sprung up from the edge of your perfectly made up bed, heart racing in his chest when the doors opened.

His face fell, blood running ice cold when the person revealed behind the door was not you, but the lady who was promised to him by your father. He took a step back, palms growing clammy.

“How did I know that you would be lingering in her chambers, Joel?” She closed the doors behind her and locked them for good measure. “What would her father say if he knew you were in here…hmm?”

“You fucking followed me here, didn’t you, Lady Florence?” He seethed, feeling like an animal trapped in the corner with nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.

“Because you were promised to me, or have you forgotten?” She cocked a brow in his direction, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I never approached you. Never even attempted to court you. Just because her father promised me to you, doesn’t fucking mean shit until actions are taken after words.” He snapped.

“I suppose, but then again, you’re in a not so favorable position, Joel. Trespassing after hours, and in his daughter's chambers nonetheless? I’m almost certain you would hang for such a crime.” She mused, stepping closer to where he had tucked himself nearly into a corner closest to the window. “Perhaps he would love to hear how I caught you and his daughter fucking in the gardens a few weeks back. How truly reckless of you both.” She tsked.

He scoffed at her attempt at blackmailing him in such a petty way. “Your threats are made in vain. Her father already knows about my love for his daughter. He’s well aware, and you look fucking desperate and pathetic at your attempt to blackmail me.”

“Blackmail you? Joel, you have me all wrong!” She laughed, “I don’t have the heart to blackmail you!”

“Then what the fuck do you call what you just attempted to do, hmm? Don’t take me for a fool! You are nothing but a jealous little—”

“Joel? It’s me, my love. I don’t have my key…someone must have nicked it!” You whispered through the outside of the closed door, looking around the vacant hallway anxiously. “Are you in there?”

He strode past Florence, shoulder checking her on his way to the door and quickly unlocked it, ushering you inside before closing and locking it again.

Your eyes landed on his face, and then trailed over his shoulder to Florence, one of your ladies, who you had believed up until this point was loyal, and not a conniving little—

“Lady Florence? What are you doing in my chambers? What is going on?!”

Joel reached for bare forearm with a gentle grip to pull you back. “My dearest, it isn’t what you think! Lady Florence is the one who nicked your key and followed me to your chambers! She cornered me, threatened me with blackmail, and claimed that she caught you and I in the gardens weeks ago!”

“Is this true?” You felt saddened, betrayed, and disappointed. “Flo, how could you do such a thing to me? I thought we were friends!”

“My lady—he lies! I never would steal from you, he is the one to corner me! He sought me out, forcing me into your chambers—” she lied between her teeth, digging herself in a graver hole than she was planning.

“LIAR!” you yelled, ripping your arm from Joel’s grasp, “he would never lay a hand on a lady, nor pressure her! You speak only of lies Florence!”

“Lover! We do not have the time for this! We have to go, we have to go now!” Joel urged you from behind, reaching for your arm again. “She isn’t worth it! Please, we must—”

And then you heard your fathers voice booming down the hall. Your biggest fear was coming true, and now there was nowhere for you or Joel to hide when the doors bursted open, the locking mechanism snapping in half from the force of your father.

“What is the meaning of this?!” He demanded.

Lady Florence, being the snake in the grass that she was, immediately flocked to your fathers side. “Sir! You arrived just in time!” She said exasperatedly, “Your daughter was in her chambers freshening up and I went to go check on her, being the good friend that I am, when I heard her dreadful scream! I came upon the heinous crime of the filthy stable hand taking your daughter against her will!” She wept her crocodile tears. “He threatened to—”

Your father wasn’t buying it for he knew that Florence was a terrible liar, and a rotten friend. “Lady Florence, this does not concern you. Return to the party immediately, and speak this to no one.”

“But sir—”

“GET OUT!” He yelled, pointing an accusatory finger at her. She narrowed her eyes at both you and Joel before slinking out of the room, closing the doors behind her.

You immediately stepped in front of Joel, silently vowing to protect him no matter what would happen, you would not allow your father to harm another hair upon your lover's head.

“Daddy, please, I love him! Please, let us be! I know it goes against what is expected of me, but Joel is a good man! He has only ever been good to me, father!”

“Your mother will never allow it, daughter. All Joel has done is tempted you and filled your head with fantasies! You have been promised to the banker's son and that is final! You think of me to be cruel, but I am only doing what is best for you!”

“I do not care what you think is best for me, father! I do not want to marry the banker's son! I wish to be happy with my one love, and I do not care if that means that you and mother will exile me! I do not care that it means I will no longer live a life of riches! I am rich in love and happiness with him by my side!”

Your father ignored your pleas, even when you clung to his arm and dug your heels in the ground to stop him from advancing towards Joel. “Please, father! Please! I am begging you to leave him be!” You cried, and your words were caught in your throat when the backside of your fathers ring clad hand made swift contact with your cheek, sending you tumbling to the floor in shock. All Joel could see was red behind his eyes when your fathers hand made contact with your cheek. He sprung into action, but your father, despite his age, was quick, ready for Joel’s attack.

“YOU DARE FUCKIN’ LAY A HAND ON HER?!” Your lover yelled with a rage you had never heard leave his lips, “I’LL FUCKIN’ KILL YOU IF YOU LAY A HAND UPON HER AGAIN!”

Your father used Joel’s rage to his advantage, letting the younger man assume he had control of the situation when he was shoved against your tall, wooden chifferobe.

“STOP IT! PLEASE!” You cried, “BOTH OF YOU, PLEASE STOP!”

In your moment of distress, Joel was distracted for a millisecond too long when your fathers fist connected with Joel’s jaw, sending him stumbling back. He landed another hit, and then another, weakening Joel enough that he crumbled to his knees, bringing his arms over his head to block out the fists raining down upon him.

Your father was relentless, grabbing your lover by the back of his neck, yanking it upwards so he was forced to look up at the older man from his knees. He bent down to his level, getting close to his ear and whispered only for him to hear “I warned you this would end badly if you weren’t careful, boy.”

Joel spit a mixture of congealed blood and saliva directly onto his face, spattering it in speckles of crimson. “Fuck you, you coward.” He hissed between gritted teeth.

Your fathers fist trembled, his hand surely was broken, but all he could think about was how he was forced to watch his own lover be beaten in the same fashion, and now he was on the delivering end of it. “Get out.” He seethed. “Leave the property before lady Florence runs her large mouth to the lady of the house and spreads a false rumor about you and my daughter. Leave before I change my mind, Joel.”

Defeat; complete and utter defeat is all Joel Miller felt in his bones when your father released him with a rough shove to the ground. He struggled to sit up, coughing up more blood, and when you attempted to crawl to his side, your father grasped your elbow and yanked you to the door.

your fading screams of his name echoed down the hall as your father dragged you further and further away.

Bruised, beaten, and feeling hopeless, Joel Miller forced himself to his feet and obeyed your fathers word to leave while he still had the chance. He felt like a coward now, but what else could he do? If he stayed, surely he would face the gallows for a crime that he didn’t commit. Lady Florence had infact gone to run her big mouth to the lady of the house, claiming that Joel Miller raped you in your bed chambers. It was of course a fabricated lie, and only lady Florence, Joel, your father, and you knew the truth.

June 4th, 1844

My Dearest,

I am deeply remorseful for the events that transcribed three days ago. I know I have put you in an undesirable situation now with your father’s wishes for your arranged marriage to the rich banker's son. Forgive me, for I don’t care to remember his name. My dearest, do not put the blame upon yourself. If we had known that there were prying, hateful eyes watching us, I would have waited for you in the stables and not inside your chambers. Jealousy drives even the sanest of people to do the unforgivable. The deep wounds your father has inflicted upon me will heal, but my heart? Oh, how it aches for you, my dearest. If I were not a coward, I would turn back and face the gallows just to see your face one last time, for what else is a man to do when he is in love? I’m heading west, like we planned in the gardens, in hopes that you will follow me and go against your father’s wishes. Please write to me soon, tell me that you are safe, and grace me with your sweet words.

Your devoted Joel

Unspecified date.

My Joel,

I write this to you in secret. My words are only for your eyes, and when you receive my letter, tell no one, my lover. Father is angry, so very angry, and mother only speaks of hate towards you. She is determined to make me press charges against you to hang for a crime you did not commit! Father won’t stand for it and instead we have abandoned the estate, left all of our belongings including our dear horses! They will not tell me where we are going, but I miss you terribly, my Joel. My brothers have been free to marry by their choosing, but I? I cannot. It’s rather cruel, isn’t it? To be given one life and since birth, since I first opened my eyes and gazed upon the new world, my choice has been stolen from my grasp. Oh, my Joel, you speak in sorrows, but the fault lands upon my shoulders. I’m so sorry, lover. I should have been more careful and discreet with our planned rendezvous. I deeply loathe Lady Florence for spying upon us! You are right of her jealousy, and now she claims to be remorseful! Oh, I feel your lips now. Your kiss, your touch upon my skin. My love for you has not weakened, I promise. Hold my words close to your heart, my Joel. I fear I will not be able to write to you again, but I will try, for you. My Joel, you are in my thoughts, always.

You have my heart,

Your Dearest.

January 1848, one hour after dusk

The decision to leave Texas and travel to New York to stop yours and the banker’s son’s wedding could quite possibly be the last thing that Joel Miller would ever do. But how could he sleep at night knowing that you were out there, somewhere in the city, thousands of miles away. You had not written to him in so long, but that didn’t deter him from following his heart back to you. He couldn’t fathom life without you in it any longer, and what else is a man to do when he is in love?

That’s how he found himself in the familiar stables, the horses peeking their heads out from their stalls and nickering softly to him in greeting. He kept the single letter you wrote to him safely tucked away in the pocket of his coat, rucksack thrown over his shoulder with what little belongings he possessed. After a new family moved into your home he was given a higher title, a warm bed to sleep in, and he could have married his new boss's daughter and lived a comfortable, happy life, but he declined, for she would never be you, his dearest. Despite turning down every single one of her affections, she still lingered, hoping that one day she would be good enough for his affections and heart.

He was frantically tacking up Sunfyre, cinching up the girth when the barn doors creeped open and Phoebe, his boss’s daughter appeared.

“Joel?” She whispered through the cool evening air, lantern in hand to peer into the low-lit stalls, “what…are you doing?”

He let out a sigh, dropping his hand from the girth and turned around to face her, “lady Phoebe, it’s late. You shouldn’t be out after hours.”

“Neither should you.” She chastised. “Where are you going at this hour, Joel?”

“My lady, that is none of your business. Please, return home. Forget that you ever saw me.”

“You’re going after her, aren’t you? Joel, it’s been years, and she has only written back to you once! It’s in all the papers that she is marrying the banker's son. You could be happy here, with me.” She whispered the last bit, feeling her heart ache for a man who would never feel the same for her.

“Lady Phoebe, “You are a dear friend to me, but I cannot love you, for my heart belongs to another.”

“But I can love you, Joel. I’m right here! She is thousands of miles away and—”

“She is my love, my one true love, and I’ll be damned if I don’t follow my heart. Your heart sings for me, but it’s not my tune to hear. You will belong to another, I promise.” He moved from Sunfyre’s side, grasping Phoebe's hands gently in his calloused palms, “you have to let me, and what could never be between us go.”

May 6th, 1848

My Joel, if you’re out there…please, please come find me, lover.

Your Joel wasn’t even sure how the fuck he was supposed to find you in a city as large as New York City. All he knew is that today you were expected to marry the banker’s son, and he would be damned if he didn’t stop this wedding from happening. He asked nearly every passbery in the street if they knew where the biggest wedding of the month would be taking place. It took less time than expected to find his answer, and once he did, he rented the finest suit that he could afford, tucked the ring box safely in his suit pocket, and rode to the chapel.

The wedding bells were already beginning to sweetly chime, and he felt his blood run cold at the sound. Was he too late? He would never forgive himself if he was.

“If anyone here, in this room objects to the unifying marriage between this man and woman, speak now or forever hold your peace.” The officiant spoke at the head of the altar, just as the doors leading into the chapel burst open.

“I OBJECT!” Joel’s familiar voice boomed up the aisle. Hushed murmurs, and surprised gasps echoed throughout the chapel when your eyes landed upon your Joel. All time ceased as you dropped Timothy’s hands, racing down the aisle, the train of your perfectly fitted wedding dress dragged behind you.

Tears flooded your eyes as you threw yourself into your lover's embrace, clinging to him in disbelief with your hands cradling his face. “MY JOEL, YOU CAME FOR ME!”

“Of course I did, my dearest. For what else is a man to do when he is in love?” He murmured, unable to truly process all the feelings he was experiencing at once. But what did it truly matter? The time apart was years, but it was all worth it leading up to this moment.

Your father was already making his way down the aisle, followed by your mother and Timothy when Joel grasped your hand tightly in his and whisked you down the aisle towards the exit. He wasn’t going to let them take you away from him again, not this time.

His grip on your hand did not loosen at the harsh sound of your fathers voice, and even when you were running down the chapel steps in unison, he did not let go until you and him were safely tucked behind a wall of a building, out of sight from the wedding party.

He kept you safely caged against the wall, a burst of memories from the night of firsts that you shared together all those years ago. “My dearest,” he breathed, “I thought I was too late! I thought the wedding already happened and you—”

“My Joel, I—I never thought I would see you again! I only ever received your single letter and I thought that you had moved on, that you had forgotten about me!”

“What?” He shook his head, brows furrowed as he grabbed your hands and brought them to his lips, kissing every inch of your skin there. “My Dearest, I wrote to you many, many times! Did you receive all of my letters? I thought the same! I thought you forgot about your Joel.” He admitted quietly.

“Fuck! I bet it was mother, or father! I bet they were keeping your letters from me, lover! Maybe they thought that if I believed you had forgotten me, I would be more inclined to marry the banker’s son!”

“I would believe that to be true, my sweet. But none of that matters, okay? I’m here now. Your Joel is here, and I will never leave your side again.”

“I-I can’t believe you’re here! Oh, my Joel, I’m so sorry—for everything! I have not stopped thinking about you all these years, I swear it. My heart only has ever belonged to you. I wear his ring, but it means nothing to me!”

“Shh, my love. I know, I know. My heart has only ever belonged to you, my dearest. Only to you. Fuck his ring. I will remove it from your finger so you never have to gaze upon it again.” He rasped, gently grabbing your left hand, scoffing at the enormous rock on your ring finger. “And I will replace it with my own.”

“Please, my Joel.”

He slipped the banker’s son’s ring off of your finger, tucking it into his pocket before he pulled out his own ring box, revealing a smaller, dainter ring beneath the velvet cover.

“It’s not much, and I’m sorry that I couldn’t grace your finger with the largest diamond the world has ever seen, but—I love you, dearest. I came all this way because I couldn’t possibly fathom the thought of losing you to another. I have never loved another soul as I do you, and while I don’t have riches to offer you, shiny carriages, silver platters, I have my heart and I know that it’s worth something to you, darlin.’”

He slipped his ring onto your finger, where it always belonged, and then you finally kissed him, your lips meeting in gentle brush before he surged forward, kissing you with everything that he had to offer. He believed that he was hallucinating, that he was back in Texas, longing for you in his empty bed. But you were here, you were real beneath his fingertips as he licked sweetly into your mouth, hands splayed around your waist, holding you close.

“It’s perfect, my Joel.” You murmured against his lips.

“Only because the lady that wears it is the most beautiful in the entire world. Sunfyre is waiting for us down the street. We can go as far east, west, wherever your heart desires. I will love you eternally, and no one will ever keep us apart, my dearest. I swear it.”

“Let’s go home, my Joel. To Texas. Take me home.”

And so he did, for what else is a man to do when he is in love?

support/warning banners made by the lovely @saradika-graphics 💘

Follow @tightjeansjaviupdates for fic updates and notifications

297 notes · View notes

aangarchy · 1 day

Text

Aang: i can't just go around killing people i don't like!

Toph, who locked two men in a metal box to starve a few months ago:

#avatar the last airbender #atla #avatar #aang #avatar aang #toph #toph beifong #pedro pascal

380 notes · View notes

firsttarotreader · 2 days

Text

Pedro Pascal in “Hope”, a short film for Style Magazine Italia, August 2018.

Thirsting Sunday! 🥵🥵

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fandom #hope #style magazine #short film

264 notes · View notes

whocaresstillthelouvre · 3 days

Text

Green

Chapter Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Chapter Summary: Jackson believes in a green future, which includes marijuana. You like to get high. Tonight, Joel joins you and you get to treat him like he treats you. Chapter Warnings: Smut, marijuana use, soft dom reader, sub Joel, m receiving oral, unprotected p in v, riding Joel's thick thigh, you bite Joel's stomach (because it has to be done), Joel watching himself masturbate in your mirror, Joel drinks water out of your hands. Words: 5,100 Pairing: Jackson Joel Miller x Female Reader Series Summary: Life in Jackson is quite comfortable and simple for you. You love teaching your students and running your library, you love the comforts of living here, perfectly complacent with the company of your two cats, guitar, tattered CD book, and a few friends. You like comfortable and simple, though the feelings you feel whenever you see Joel Miller are quite the opposite. Once you meet him, it seems like he needs you in his life as much as you need him. Reader Background: Reader is in her 30's and comes from Colorado. No other physical descriptors besides her having long enough hair to put up. A/N: Happy 4/20! Wanted to give you another entry akin to Golden Walkway, a little peek into the future again of these two.

Masterlist Playlist

Times never change instead of hiding your illicit use from your parents, now you hide it from a teenager. Joel and you always going to your your house so you can get high, just in case Ellie needs something. Can’t be a bad influence.

“So you never really smoked much?” you ask as you pull the box of papers and weed out of the drawer before sitting down on your couch. You lean over your coffee table removing its contents and start to build your joint.

“Mm, never really was my thing, too risky if I got caught growing up in Texas during the Regan years. Had football eligibility to worry about ‘n then Sarah came, just never was the time for me.” Joel says as he leans back into your armchair his brown eyes intently watching your actions. You begin to crumble weed up and place it on your rolling paper.

“Ah, makes sense. It’s good for me when my nerves really get to me,” you begin to roll your joint, “helps kinda soften the harsh lines of reality a lot. Makes my body and my mind a little freer.”

You lick your cigarette closed and admire your handiwork, welcoming the anticipation of being with Joel while you’re stoned.

You grab a match, strike it against the box and spark your joint, rotating it in your mouth to light it up. Joel chuckles as you inhale the first hit.

“What’s so funny?” You ask in a cloud of your smoke as you exhale.

“Nothing. Maybe I should get high. Making me hard just watching you do this.”

“Oh yeah?” You sit back.

“Yeah, maybe I should start. Never was one for smoking though.”

“Hm, I can help. I can just blow the smoke into your mouth if you want to try it.” You lean forward wanting him to take you up on your offer.

“Sounds good sweetheart,” he nods and pats his lap. “Come sit with me, have nowhere to be tomorrow.”

You rest the joint between your lips, stand and grab the ashtray. Your bare feet pad across the plush carpet of the area rug as you walk over to Joel.

“Hi,” you smile out with a small puff of smoke.

“You look so cute like this, little cigarette sticking out of your mouth, eyes all cloudy and happy. Love it when my girl is happy.”

You giggle at his compliment as you lift your leg up to rest on the chair, your foot tightly fitting within what little room is left on the seat between Joel’s thick thighs. He looks up at you, his mouth slightly agape his usual furrowed brow a lot less creased, more relaxed.

“I am happy,” you answer as his hands begin to massage your calf. “You look a lot less grumpier than you normally look. That makes me happy.”

“Oh really?”

“Yep,” you say before inhaling another hit.

“Why don’t you make me happier and sit on my lap, that’d make me really happy darlin’.”

Turning your head to the side you blow out a plume of smoke as you place yourself on Joel’s lap, knees bent against his thighs and the armrests. You can feel the denim covered shape of his half hard cock against your cotton shorts. Your tits underneath your faded and holey t-shirt are right at Joel’s eye level.

“S’nice,” he says staring forward at your chest.

“My eyes are up here Joel,” you begin to laugh at your own joke, as you take another hit. You’re so high and happy, you’ve never been stoned and in love, it feels amazing.

“I’d tell you to knock it off, but your whole body’s shaking against me ’n your tits are bouncing in my face,” Joel grins as he kisses a breast through your shirt.

Fuck, now that feels amazing.

“Hold this,” you direct, handing him the joint.

He takes it between his fingers and watches as you lean back and remove your shirt. His eyes widening as he concentrates on your actions, so much for relaxed Joel. He holds up the joint, still in his hands, to your lips.

“Take a hit baby,” his voice gravels out, his cock hardening underneath, “‘n lemme have some.”

You inhale and move your mouth to his, forming a tight seal between the two of you. Joel welcomes the smoke and sucks in as you blow out.

You grab the joint from him as he exhales, a white cloud of smoke floating above the two of you. You take another pull off the joint, your body already feeling much lighter, your brain less complicated.

“Can I have that back?” Joel asks. “Want to do the same you did for me.”

You smile a silent agreement and hand him the joint, now a short stub. He brings it up to his mouth, holding it between his thumb and pointer, his large fingers making it practically disappear save for the glowing orange embers that light as he takes a hit. He looks so fucking tempting as his cheeks slightly puff out. Everything Joel Miller does is hot, but the way he drags on a joint, his pillowy lips wrapping around the white paper, the way his broad shoulders rise as he breathes in, this might just be the hottest you’ve ever seen him. When will you ever get tired of looking at this man?

You bring your lips to his and he exhales into your mouth. Oh, this is the best way to get high. You pull away, releasing the smoke from your lungs.

“‘Bout shot, don’t you think?” Joel raises the joint up and looks at it.

“It’s shot,” you grab the ash tray from the table and hand it to him. He stubs out the joint and puts it back on the table.

He looks at you, his eyes heavier than usual, a little red and glazed. You’ve seen his eyes glazed over with lust numerous times, this glaze is a little lighter, a little happier. He sits back and you move farther up his lap so you can move a finger up to pet the smoothness of the little heart patch in his beard.

“How are you feeling?” You ask as Joel’s hands trace up and down your back.

“Good, real good,” a deep exhale out of his lips answers.

“Relaxed?” You ask as your finger moves to brush back and forth across his lips.

“Mm.”

You don’t think you’ve ever seen him this free before. A light smile, half shut eyes staring back at you, his whole face more relaxed. He looks good this way, you love when he’s happy and relaxed, you’ve never met anybody more deserving.

“Feels good,” Joel says as you rub your finger across his soft lower lip. A deep breath leaves his half parted lips, the air blowing against your finger. “Real good.”

“Good,” your hand moves to trace around his top lip, the hair of his mustache bristling against your digit as you move it back and forth. “I like making you feel good.”

You feel the the lines around his lips rise as he smiles at you. “You’re s’good at it baby.”

“Yeah? What do you like the most?”

“Hard t’pick. Love the way your eyes always blink as you cum for me, can always tells how good you’re feelin’ by how big your eyes get right before. Love the little gasp you always make when I start fuckin’ you. Love that you grab for my hands at any chance you get, like you need to touch me as much as you can. Love that you always need me.” The last sentence coming out the softest.

“I do need you,” you confess, “all the time, not even for all of the you know, sex stuff.”

“I know baby,” he hugs you against his chest, “I need you too… so much.”

“But, I do also really need you for the sex stuff, you know?"

Joel’s chuckle vibrates against you. “My girl’s funny, real funny.”

“But really, what do you need tonight Joel?” You pull away from his chest and look him in the eyes. You love it when he compliments you, you love it when he calls you his girl. You love that he needs you just as much as you need him.

“I need you to tell me what you want from me tonight. Make me yours. Talk to me like I talk t’ya.” Joel’s eyes staring into yours as they widen with his admission. “I’m yours baby.”

A bit of trepidation lands in your brain. Joel’s always the one to depend on to chart the stars of your intimacy. He’s so good at predicting what you want, you let him navigate. The thoughts are silenced once you feel his hands move along your hips and thighs. You can tell he wants you to do this for him. You want Joel to experience what you feel after he’s done with you. You want him to believe in you like you believe in him. You sit up higher on him, feeling braver and bolder. Ready to bless him for his confession.

“Okay. I’m going to get up, walk to the kitchen to get something to drink, and when I come back, I want you to stand in front of my mirrored wall over there. Keep your clothes on.”

You’re shocked by the confidence in your voice. Joel as well, his hands pause their movement as you speak. He stares at you, his mouth slightly open in surprise.

You rise up off of Joel, folding your arms across your naked chest. “Understand?”

“Y-y-yes,” Joel stutters.

“Good,” you wink and turn towards the kitchen, your confident steps leaving a bewildered Joel in your chair. You’ve never acted like this, your brain swirling with ideas of what you want to do, what you want to say, how you want to make him feel.

You grab two glasses out of your cupboard and fill them with water. Your mouth is parched, you’re sure Joel’s is too. You walk back to your living room, your courage building with each step closer. You know you’re ready when you see Joel standing as instructed in front of your mirror.

“Hi handsome,” you walk to stand behind him, still topless and only in your shorts, his eyes moving from looking at his own reflection to your chest. You wouldn’t expect less from him, you love how he looks at you.

“Hi,” Joel whispers. You think he’s a little nervous, a little excited, he probably feels exactly how you feel.

“I’m going to watch you watch yourself get undressed. I want you to listen to me and follow my directions, okay?”

“Yes,” his simple answer resolutely spoken as you put the waters down and turn the lamp on besides you, the light bathing both of you in a smoldering golden hue. You want to fully be able to watch Joel do what you have planned for him.

“Good, I don’t want to hear much from you, okay? I’m the one talking.”

You like this feeling, you especially like the serious nod Joel gives you through the mirror.

“Take your shirt off.”

You watch Joel’s hands move to the hem of his t-shirt and lift it over his head.

“Give it to me,” you step forward and extend a hand out.

The soft gray fabric is still warm with Joel’s body heat as it hits your hand. You bring it to your nose and inhale his scent. “You smell so good all the time. I love the scent of you.” You take one last sniff before putting his shirt on, his smell now encompassing you.

“Wh—“

“Quiet,” you interrupt Joel’s protest, “I don’t want to hear anything out of you, I want to smell like you and wear your shirt while I make you feel good.”

He looks a little annoyed, you like that.

“Look at your chest. It’s perfect. I love how your shoulders are so wide and so strong. I love how your arms are muscular and yet they’re so soft when I rest my head against them. I love how soft your stomach has gotten meaning you’re well fed and healthy. You like the praise baby?”

Joel nods as his eyes darken hearing you call him one of the pet names he always calls you.

“Unbutton and unzip your pants, but don’t take them off.” Your pussy getting wetter at the thought of the sights that you’re about to see, all directed by you. All broadcast on your mirror.

Joel nods, as he unbuttons his jeans, his fingers move to his zipper and pulls it down. You love that he never wears underwear when he comes over. You love how you can see the trail of hair from his belly button down to his bush. He’s the perfect amount of hairy. He’s the perfect amount of manly. He’s just fucking perfect.

“Good. You’re thirsty right?” He nods. You lean over to the table and pick up a glass of water. “Drink all of this. Want to watch your neck move as you swallow it down.”

Joel takes the glass and brings it to his lips, his eye contact not breaking with yours through the reflection. He takes a large gulp brows wrinkling with seriousness for the task at hand, no matter how significant or insignificant it is. It’s so Joel.

“I love watching you drink. I love how small the mug looks in your hand when you drink your coffee in the morning. I love how you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand after downing a whole glass of water when you’re hot. I love how gently form your lips around a glass of whiskey.” You finish your praise as he empties the glass, taking it from him and placing it on the table.

“Good. Feel better?”

He nods.

“Take your pants off,” you think of what Joel would say in this moment. “Lemme see all of you.”

He smirks as he starts to move his jeans down his hips, he knows you’re going to love this part. His cock springs out as it’s freed, fully erect and throbbing, you knew you’d get him good and hard with your attitude. He bends over to shuck his jeans fully off, kicking them to the side, and when he stands up, shoulders back, dick hard and ready to follow your instructions, you almost fall to your knees.

“God, you’re so fucking hot, baby,” you breathe out. His smirk still remains, he knows what he does to you.

Your eyes roam his body, he’s so large and so thick, his body screams protector. He’s your protector. He provides for you. You love that you get to love him and make him feel this way.

“I’m thirsty, why don’t you hand me my glass?” You love how seriously he follows your commands, like it’s the only thing that matters in the world. You love how powerful it makes you feel to see Joel readily do your every request.

Joel turns towards the table and picks up the glass, handing it to you.

“Thank you.”

Another nod.

You quickly drink the water down, save for the last quarter of it. “You’re still thirsty, aren’t you?”

This time it’s not just one slow nod from Joel, it’s three quick nods. He’s thirsty.

“Then come stand here in front of me.”

You’ve enjoyed watching him from a couple of feet back, standing far enough to be able to see all of him in the mirror. Now that he’s right in front of you though, this is how you like him the most. Right beside you.

You empty the rest of the water into your mouth, your cheeks swelling out with the amount you’re holding. You bring your palms up to your mouth and cup them together. Joel begins to breathe heavily as he watches you spit the water into your makeshift hand bowl.

“Now, drink it up,” you order.

He moves so fast, so eager to please. Joel’s head quickly craning down as his brown eyes look up at you. Your heart begins to race as his tongue comes out of his mouth and begins to lap up the water out of your hand. “I love how you’re looking up at me, you look at me the same way when you eat me out.”

Joel grunts as he leans further forward and starts to suck the water up from your hand, never breaking eye contact. The groove of his dimple getting deeper as his cheeks hollow and he sucks up all of the water.

Now you wear Joel’s cocky smirk just like his shirt. You get to know him like he knows you, you get to play with his body like he plays with yours.

“Very good.” You move your hands to wrap around his erection, the slickness of the water allowing you to easily stroke him. A gruff breath leaves Joel’s mouth, the air landing against your face. You only leave your hands on him for a couple pumps, just enough until he begins to arch his back. His eyes widen as you remove your hands, a small “mmf” is let out of his pursed lips.

“I know, I know, I know you want more. You’ll get it soon. You’re being real well behaved for me, aren’t you?”

Another nod. Joel still hasn’t spoken a word, you miss his voice but you also like to watch him challenge himself to stay quiet.

“Face the mirror again Joel.”

He likes it when you say his name, he’s told you so many times how he likes to hear your voice say his name.

“Touch yourself for me Joel.”

His heavy eyes slowly shut as he bites his bottom lip with a moan, he liked that… a lot. He opens his eyes and with a look of determination, he spits in his hand before moving it down and gripping his shaft as he looks at you for his next command.

“Stroke yourself for me.”

He begins to slowly pump himself, savoring and watching himself in the reflection. His gaze anchoring in on pleasuring himself.

You wonder when the last time he did this was.

“When’s the last time you made yourself cum?” His movements falter as he looks up at you and takes in your question. “Go ahead, you can talk, tell me.”

“That last night you were painting f’me,” a half smile shows up on his face as he begins to stroke again.

Now you’re the one who only nods, your words lost at his confession. “Go on,” you muster up. You need to hear more.

“Went to bed that night, ’n all I could see was your pretty eyes lookin’ up at me, how you looked in those overalls, I felt like I could still feel your lips on mine.” His strokes getting quicker, his hand pausing as he twists his hand around his tip. “Was so hard for you, had to take care of things before I could fall asleep.”

Your whole body shivers, his words making your pussy begin to drip out onto your shorts. The look of his face as he recalls his memories. Those words added to all of his others that prove to you again that you have Joel’s heart, mind and body. He is yours.

“God. Th—that’s good,” you breathe out, your eyes widening when you watch him bite his lip as he squeezes his cock. He has you flustered, and he knows, his mouth grinning into the signature cocky smirk he gets whenever you get like this. As if his sense of self blooms whenever he makes your heart race.

You can’t allow him this pleasure over you, you’re the one in control tonight. You remind yourself that this is what Joel wants. You steel yourself and stand a little taller.

“Stop,” you bark out.

He obeys, mouth slacking open in shock at your raised voice. His hand unwrapping from around himself.

“Good job, I think you were getting a little too comfortable, weren’t you?”

Joel just stares at you, seems he forgot to nod.

“I can’t let you have the power tonight, can I? Acknowledge me Joel.”

“N—no,” an actual stutter from Joel Miller’s mouth. Not a grunt, not a short one word answer, an actual nervous stutter.

“That’s right. Now, I think you’ve had too much fun putting on a show for me. Go sit in the middle of the couch.”

He nods, his broad frame passes by you, he doesn’t even take the time to look at you.

You follow behind and wait until he takes a seat. You love seeing Joel on your couch, in your bed, using one of your bowls to eat oatmeal out of. You love seeing him in your space, all comfortable and domestic, but seeing him now naked on your couch, his hard cock sitting straight up, his large hands sitting atop his strong thighs, shoulders taking up most of the backrest of his seat, sitting ready to listen to your commands. This is how you really like to see him. He’s fucking gorgeous.

“So, you had your fun with your body, I want to have my fun with your body,” you stand over him. Now your body gets to loom over his.

You bring the collar of Joel’s shirt up to your nose, inhale deeply and moan. “Have I told you before how much I love how your smell? Sometimes I’ll be wearing one of your shirts to bed I’ll smell your scent on it and it’ll make me wet while I’m trying to go to sleep.” The sound from Joel’s mouth makes you bolder. “One night, I might just knock on your door, in only your shirt and my jacket, make you help me take care of what smelling you does to me. Would you like that?”

Joel shudders and furiously nods.

“Ohh, had a feeling you would,” you chuckle as you remove his shirt off of you. “I’m going to do something I've been wanting to do, okay?”

A nod, a groan, and a sigh now. The more reactions you get at once, the more you know how good you’re doing.

You pull down your shorts, and kick them aside. His fingers grip into his thighs, his forearms straining at the sight of you. He’s going through it.

“Can you see me glisten for you baby?” You ask as you lift your foot onto the couch cushion and snake your hand down in between your legs. “See how wet I got watching you touch yourself for me?” You take a finger and run it across your folds gathering your wetness. You hold it up for Joel, his eyes glued to your finger. “Open your mouth.”

He listens. You slide your finger into his mouth, his lips forming around it, a low moan vibrating against it.

“Put your hands on the couch, you can’t touch me, you can only watch. Okay?”

Joel obeys. He still sucks your finger as you straddle his thigh. His skin radiates heat against you once you place your wet pussy on it. You’ve wanted to do this since you saw his bare legs for the first time, his thighs are so muscular and yet so supple, much like the rest of his features. Joel groans as you begin to ride his thigh, rubbing yourself back and forth against his skin.

“You like how wet my pussy feels on your thigh?” You pull your finger out of his mouth. “Answer me Joel. Want to hear your voice.”

“Yes.”

“What do you like?”

“Your wet pussy on my th— I like your wet pussy on my thigh,” his low cadence and the pressure against your aching cunt pushing you close to your orgasm.

“I’m going to make myself cum on your thigh, okay? I’m so close.” You begin to grind your hips down on his his thigh, putting the perfect amount of friction against your clit.

Your hands splay against Joel’s chest, feeling his breaths and his moans rumble against your palms.

“I’m gonna cum on your thigh Joel.” You grab and pull on his chest hair as your climax reaches you, cresting over and spilling onto Joel’s thigh as you grind against it. Joel’s eyes boring into you looking forlorn and tortured that he can’t touch you as you cum on him.

You rest your head against his shoulder as you catch your breath. You need to recover quickly, you’re ready to ride him.

Joel grumbles as you stand back up.

“Would you look at that? Look down baby, look how wet I got your thigh.” You place your hands on his thighs, a hand resting in the puddle of your slick left on his skin. You lean forward as he looks down and nibble the bare skin of his heart patch before licking your way down his neck and chest. “Should probably clean that up, huh?” You ask as your rest your lips against the plush of his belly before gently biting it.

He groans as you move your mouth down, bypassing his hard cock to the side. You stick your tongue out and lick a long stripe up his thigh tasting yourself as you clean his skin. His breathing turns more labored as he watches you lick yourself up.

“Mm, wonder how I’d taste licking my cum off your cock?” You ask, nuzzling your head into his crotch, his hard cock throbbing against your cheek.

His hips jut as you turn your head and kiss the shaft of him.

“You’re going to cum fast for me, aren’t you?” You leave a kiss on his shaft higher than your last one.

“I love how hard you always cum for me,” another kiss moving your way up his hardness.

“I love the way you fuck my mouth while you cum down my throat,” another kiss.

“I love the way my name sounds as you chant it when I make your legs shake,” another kiss right under his tip.

“I love how your cum tastes as I lick it from my lips,” another kiss on his tip, tasting the precum collected on it.

“Fuck,” he finally utters, not being able to hold back as you lick along the trail of where you just kissed him.

“Shhhh,” you silence against the soft skin of his firmness. “I think it’s about time for me to fuck you, before you get any more ideas about talking.”

Another deep exhale from him, his nose flaring in frustration. You fucking love this.

“Put your hands on the top of your head, and don’t you dare lower them. Don’t touch me, okay?”

Joel nods raising his hands as you plant yourself back on the couch, straddling his legs. His eyes follow your body, his brows a bit more furrowed now.

You hover your pussy over his cock, leaving enough space between the two of you that if he really wanted, he could raise his hips and stick his cock in, but he doesn’t. He wants to do good for you.

“Open your mouth,” you angle your head forward, your lips right in front of his. Joel’s mouth opens, his heavy breathing hitting you in the face, as you lick into his mouth.

You swirl your hips over his cock slowly lowering yourself on him, you’re so soaked for him he easily slides into you.

A long sigh escapes the back of his throat as you begin to ride him. You pull back from his mouth and rest your hands against his chest. His hands still sit on top of his head, you glance up and see how he’s grabbing at his hair in exasperation.

He watches as you move your hands from his chest to yours, cupping your breasts and playing with your nipples.

“Like watching me touch my tits like the way you do? Like how I pinch and pull my nipples like you?”

High pitched moans and groans of frustration leave his mouth. Joel Miller is whimpering.

“Shhhh, shhh, I know baby. Now quiet. Want to hear my wet pussy ride you, stay quiet,” you say grabbing his jaw and pushing his mouth shut.

You begin fucking him harder, the sound of your wet cunt bouncing on him and his whimpers the only sounds in the room. You lean forward and rest your head in the juncture between his head and shoulder. You slam yourself up and down on him, the rapidness of your movements matching the rapidness of your heart as you bring yourself close to your orgasm.

Your back straightens as you place your hands on his biceps, staring in his big brown eyes as your body snaps, your pussy clutching his cock as you cum around Joel. He bites his bottom lip fighting his orgasm for as long as he can. His biceps straining against your grasp as you feel his body begin to quake.

“Clooooose,” he husks. You slip out of him, moving quickly on shaky legs through the aftershocks of your orgasm kneeling down in front of him. His hands are still in his hair as he looks down at you, watching you seal your mouth over him. You bob your head up and down on him as he cums down your throat.

You swallow all of him down as he chants your name. His hands lower, resting against the hollows of your cheeks as you still keep his softening cock in your mouth.

You stare up at him, his hair left awry and twisted from his hands, eyes wide and still blown out as he blinks down at you, his chest rising and falling still catching his breath. He looks at you, like you’re the only thing in this world. You are the center of his universe.

#tw marijuana #joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller ff #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #pedro pascal character fanfiction #joel miller/reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #elks #joel the last of us

285 notes · View notes

for-a-longlongtime · 2 days

Text

I thought I'd seen about every pic of Pedro and Oscar during that Triple Frontier promo day...

but NOPE

Definitely hadn't seen this one yet. 💙💙

Throwing in the other shots, please feel free to add if you have more:

Bonus 1: That ridiculous snack tasting thing

Bonus 2: never not sharing the WIRED interview with The Grumpy Eagle & Baby Chicken: The Duran Duran Edition

#pedro pascal #oscar isaac #triple frontier #joel miller #moon knight #the last of us #the mandalorian #din djarin

223 notes · View notes

wheresarizona · 1 day

Text

but now I’m your daisy

summary: It’s a random Thursday in the middle of spring, and Joel has a surprise for you—a surprise that’s an hour away from Jackson on horseback, that he insists on blindfolding you for.

pairing: Joel Miller/gn!reader (reader has smaller hands than Joel)

rating: T (No y/n, AGE GAP (unspecified, reader is an adult), Grumpy Joel Miller, a lil Possessive Joel Miller, FLUFF, it’s so fluffy, established relationship, kissing, purposely annoying Joel until he snaps at you, Joel being secretly romantic, MARRIAGE PROPOSAL (it’s so cute), cussing, did I mention fluff? Joel being so in love, Joel being the best dad to Ellie)

word count: 2.5k+

a/n: This can be read as a standalone or in the same universe as ‘but I would die for you in secret.’ An anon requested a ‘fluffy cute fic with an age gap (No smut)’ for Joel, and this extremely cute idea came to me that I wrote in one night. Shoutout to @littlemisspascal who loved the snippets I sent her, and thank you to the love of my life, @juletheghoul for betaing!

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs feed me. I’d love to know what you thought!

but I would die for you in secret - Masterlist

“Are we there yet?” you ask for the thirteenth time in the span of an hour.

It’s the perfect spring day with the temperature outside not too hot and not too cold, the air feeling a little crisp when it fills your nose. The sun’s warmth is hitting your back, and you’re sure that if you could see the sky, it’d be a beautiful, clear, cerulean blue—you can’t see, though, not with the bandana over your eyes as you sit astride a horse, Joel on his own next to you holding his reins and yours to lead you.

His sigh is long and loud, and you can picture perfectly without having to look at his annoyed expression.

“No,” he growls. “The same damn answer as the last dozen or so times you asked.”

“Hey, don’t get mad at me—you haven’t spent an hour literally in the dark with no idea where the hell you’re going.”

“And I’ve told you it’s a surprise,” he rumbles.

“Well, are we close to this surprise?”

He sighs again, and you just know he’s got the fingers of his free hand pressed to his brow. “I swear, you’re just as bad as Ellie—neither of you seems to understand what a fuckin’ surprise is.” He takes a deep breath and slowly lets it out. “Now,” he says calmly, “I don’t know why you’re purposely pushin’ my buttons—”

“You ate the last of the ice cream last night,” you interrupt. “The ice cream I worked hard to make that I was excited to eat as a late-night snack.”

“You gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me—how many times do I have to apologize? I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were savin’ it, and had I known, I wouldn’t have eaten it. Will you please forgive me?”

“Did I annoy you enough that the thought crossed your mind to take us back home?”

“Yes.”

“And you didn’t because you love me so much you’ll put up with my shit?”

“Yes.”

“Then I forgive you. Can I ask a question that has nothing to do with the distance we are from the surprise?”

He lets out a relieved breath, and his tone softens. “Of course, honey.”

Without fail, every time he calls you a sweet endearment, you melt a little, feeling so soft you might turn into a puddle.

You’re smiling. “What made you choose today to surprise me? It’s kinda random that it’s a Thursday, and you didn’t wait for the weekend when we’re usually off.” You taught at the school, and Joel did whatever he was assigned each day; lately, it’s been a lot of patrolling.

“Do you know what today’s date is?”

The question makes you think because you do know the date, and it’s not your, his, or Ellie’s birthday; it’s not a holiday that you’re aware of, either, and frankly, you’re not quite sure what the significance is.

“I do, but what’s so special about it?”

“What were you doin’ last year around this time?”

“Um, what was I doing? Wait, it’s around when I moved to Jackson.”

“That’s right, and who’d you meet a little after you arrived?”

“A lot of people.”

“Jesus Christ,” he breathes in exasperation. “Baby, when did you meet me?”

“Like two, three days after I moved into the house across the street from you.”

“And what happened when we met?”

The memory makes you smirk. “I seduced you—my sexy, way older, single dad neighbor.”

“That’s true—I was gone on you from the moment you batted those pretty eyes at me, and who were you romantically involved with from that day forward?”

Your eyebrows furrow. “You.”

“Was there anyone else?” It’s a harmless question he knows the answer to and is honestly humorous even to be asked.

You snort. “Why would I have wanted to be with anyone else when I had you? No, of course not, and you were very clear that I was yours and only yours, even if nobody else knew for quite some time.”

Your relationship with him was a secret for many months because he didn’t want Ellie to know—he was worried she wouldn’t take it well, but she ended up being completely fine with it and had figured out the two of you were a thing, pretty much from the beginning.

“So, it’s a year from the day you became mine,” he says, “why would I be takin’ you somewhere special?”

The realization slams into so hard you gasp.

“Are we celebrating the anniversary of when we first met?!”

It’s clear in his voice he’s smiling. “We are—I know we did things ass-backward, and I wish I could’ve courted you properly from the beginnin’, but I consider that first time we met as the start of our unconventional relationship.”

Warmth is spreading through your body at how sweet this is.

“Oh my god, Joel—if I could, I’d kiss you right now!”

“Well, you’re in luck, my love, ‘cause we’re finally here.” Your horse comes to a stop, the animal snorting as its front hooves shuffle in place. “You can look.”

You lower the bandana, and your eyes widen at what’s in front of you: it’s a meadow of colorful wildflowers—the lush green grass overshadowed by the yellows, pinks, purples, whites, and blues blooming thickly everywhere, tall pine trees lining the edges, and snow-capped mountains towering high off in the distance.

You’ve never seen anything so beautiful, and it takes your breath away.

There’s movement out of the corner of your eye of Joel getting off his horse, and you’re too focused on taking in all of the scenery, seeing butterflies fluttering around and birds gliding through the air.

“Well?” he asks, and you jolt at his voice coming from the opposite side of where he was initially. “Sorry for spookin’ ya, baby.” He rubs a hand along your jean-covered thigh, and your head tilts down his way. Joel’s eyes look hopeful, and a small smile is on his lips—he’s wearing a red flannel and has a rifle on his back, the light breeze causing some of his gray strands of hair to dance atop his head. “What do you think?” he asks.

Your answer is to get off the horse, Joel’s hands immediately grabbing onto your waist to steady you as you swing your leg over the back of the animal, one foot landing on the ground, then the other—you spin around, throwing your arms around his neck, and crush your lips to his, swallowing his surprised sound. He’s automatically hugging you to him, and you never feel safer than when he holds you, knowing without a doubt he won’t let anything happen to you and will protect you with everything he has; you’d do the same for him and Ellie, the two most important people in your life.

When you break apart, your breaths come out a little heavier, and with the way he’s gazing into your eyes, you can clearly see his love for you shining through.

His hand caresses your cheek. “A good surprise?” he asks.

Your mouth is grinning as you nod. “The best surprise and worth an hour in the dark.” You hold his face as you lean in, placing loud, smacking kisses over his stubbled cheeks, along his jaw, on his chin, and lips. Joel chuckles at your enthusiasm, and you end with a peck to the tip of his nose.

“There’s more,” he says.

Your eyes go big. “What do you mean there’s more?”

“Let me tie up the horses, and I’ll show you.”

He moves away to do as he said, using ropes to tie around each of their two front legs to hobble them and keep them in place, allowing them to graze.

Joel isn’t kidding about there being more: he removes a blanket roll from his saddle that he spreads out on a patch of grass, and from his backpack, he takes out containers with strawberries, apples, cheese, some smoked meat and to drink, a bottle of apple juice made in Jackson.

He sits on the blanket, his long legs out in front of him, the food on one side of him, his rifle, and your shotgun that’d been holstered in a scabbard attached to your saddle within reach on the ground. He makes you giggle as he pulls you down into his lap, sitting sideways across it, his arms wrapping around your middle, while your hands go into the hair at the back of his head, his eyes locked on yours.

Something hard is poking you in the ass. “Is that a flashlight in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?” you ask with a wag of your eyebrows.

Joel huffs out an amused breath as he gets his hand under you and pulls his sheathed hunting knife off of his belt, tossing it next to the rifle and shotgun.

“Better?” he asks with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes.” You kiss his cheek. “Much better—thank you.” You stare at his handsome face and brush his messy bangs off his forehead—Joel grabs your hand, keeping his gaze on yours as he kisses the skin on the inside of your wrist, leaving behind tingles where his lips touch.

“If Ellie knew how secretly romantic you are,” you say, “she’d give you even more shit than she already does.”

His eyes roll, and he holds your smaller hand in his bigger one, pressing it to his heart.

“Wanna know a secret?” he asks.

“Always.”

“She avoids teasin’ me about our relationship and how I am with you—I mean, if she sees us kiss, she’ll pretend to get sick, but that’s just how teenagers are.” He shrugs. “She slips up every once in a while, and that’s expected; I think her tryin’ her best not to shit on my happiness is her sweet way of bein’ supportive.” He’s smiling fondly. “She’s the one who suggested a picnic.”

Your face matches his. “You discussed your secret anniversary plans with her?”

“Yes.” He nods. “'cause Tommy’s idea of celebratin’ was stayin’ in bed all day naked, and it made me wonder for the millionth time why the fuck Maria married his ass.”

You laugh. “And that’s pretty much a regular Saturday for us when Ellie stays at Cat’s—” Her girlfriend’s. “—for the weekend.”

He’s got an arm around your back and lets go of your hand, reaching to pluck a dandelion from the grass at the edge of the blanket.

“Exactly,” he says, “needed to do somethin’ special, and I found this place a few weeks ago while on patrol and knew you’d love it.” His eyes squint a little as his attention turns to what’s in front of him.

“I do, I love it so much.” You look around at the flowers, trees, and mountains. “It’s so beautiful!”

“Yeah, it is.” You face him again, finding his gaze already on you.

He does this often, where when you seek him out—be it at the crowded bar on a Friday night, the busy mess hall at breakfast before work, while you’re cuddled on the couch watching a movie—he’s already looking at you before your eyes land on his. It’s like you’re the only thing that exists, and you find it both lovely and insane that he loves you that much.

The other person who steals his attention is Ellie—she’s his whole world, and that’s how it should be; she’s his kid, and if Joel’s one thing, he’s a fantastic father who loves his children more than anything.

“You’ve ruined me for anyone else, Joel Miller,” you tell him, clutching his shirt with your left hand. “I love you, I love your daughter, I love the life we have, and I’m sorry, but you’re stuck with me for the rest of your life—you’re mine, and I’ll fight anyone or anything that tries to take you from me.”

“Yeah?” He takes your hand from his shirt and presses your palms together between you, making your own look so tiny with how much longer and thicker his fingers are. “Well,” he starts, your eyes closing when he leans in to nudge his nose against yours, “you’ve sure ruined me for anyone else, too, and you’re it for me—I love you, I love that you really do care about my kid, and how you make our lives better,” he rasps softly. “No one else can have you ‘cause you belong to me as I belong to you, so I see this only goin’ one way.”

“And where’s that?” you whisper.

His hand leaves yours for a moment.

“With you marryin’ me,” he says and slips something onto your ring finger—your eyes fly open seeing he’s tied the dandelion stem to make a loop your finger can fit through, the vibrant yellow flower a pretty substitute for a real diamond ring that are hard to find these days; this is Joel doing something how it was done when he was younger because, to him, it’s the right way, even though nowadays engagements are simply a verbal agreement rarely accompanied by jewelry. Or this is Joel just being romantically old-fashioned; you love it when he’s romantically old-fashioned.

Your cheeks are hurting from smiling so big, and tears are brimming in your eyes.

“If you’ll have me, of course,” he adds, and you look at him. “I know I’ve been alive a long fuckin’ time and that you can do better than someone as old as me, but I promise I’ll give you my everythin’ and the best life I can because you’re the one I wanna spend whatever time I have left breathin’ with.” The truth is evident in his chocolate-colored gaze, seeing the glimmer of hope in the dark pools. “As long as it’s somethin’ you’d want. It’s fine if you prefer we keep doin’ things as we have been without you takin’ my last name—I’m lucky enough that you like me.”

“Ask me,” you say.

His eyebrows pull together. “Ask you what…?”

“To marry you—in all the sweet things you said, you didn’t ask the question.”

His cheeks pink up, and he scratches the back of his neck. “That’s fuckin’ embarrassin’. Not much of a proposal if you don’t ask the question—sorry—let me try this again.” He clears his throat and takes your hand, being careful of the dandelion ring, his eyes seeming to get bigger. “Will you marry me?”

“Yes,” you answer immediately, and he rewards you with a smile big enough for his very seldom-seen dimple to make an appearance.

Then his large palms are cradling your face, and he’s kissing you like he’s just come home after being away for a while, and can’t believe he’s finally feeling your lips against his once more—he’s savoring every second and being so thorough it makes you go dizzy, your skin heating beneath your clothes.

This is one of those unforgettable kisses that will make you swoon each time it comes to mind in the years to come.

And this man asked you to marry him.

Settling down in Jackson was the best decision you’ve ever made.

but I would die for you in secret - Masterlist

Thank you for reading! If you’d like to be tagged in my fics, please fill out the form in my bio, on my masterlist, or just let me know!

#Pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller/reader #Joel miller/you #joel miller x reader #wheresarizona writes

290 notes · View notes

jpbpxma · 2 days

Text

morning, baby;

content warnings/tags: nsfw, contains smut, nipple play, choking (slightly), sex on the kitchen countertop, joel miller x reader.

You wake up to the smell of coffee drifting up the stairs and roll over onto your back with a groan as the sun shines on your eyes. You smile when you hear Joel downstairs making breakfast for the two of you, it's just so blissfully domestic. You stretch your whole body as you give a satisfied sigh, then grab the nearest item of clothing, which just happens to be Joel's denim shirt from the day before. You yawn as you slip it on, carelessly fastening enough buttons up so you're not completely exposed and make your way downstairs.

You make a beeline for the coffee machine, eyes still tired and mind still sleepy, you really needed some caffeine to wake you up. You put your mug under the spout, press the button and yawn while stretching again, with your arms up in the air, when warm hands gently snake around your waist from behind you. "Hey, that's my shirt," Joel teases, his already deep voice even deeper in the morning. He peppers kisses on the back of your neck; you can't help but smile as he pushes the collar of the shirt to the side a little with his nose so he can trail his lips across your shoulders. "Morning, baby," he whispers between kisses.

When he presses up behind you nice and close, his sweatpants leave absolutely nothing to the imagination. "How do you look so beautiful right when you wake up, hmm? " He asks in a low voice, nearly a growl. He's such a sweet talker, you giggle despite yourself. He traces kisses along the bone of your shoulder while cupping your breasts. You smile at his actions, leaning into his hands and melting into his touch, "You're right, you're so lucky, babe," you say playfully, turning your head to kiss him on the cheek. He hums in your ear in response, nipping at the sensitive skin behind it, grinding his hard on into your ass at the same time.

"Mmm, someone's frisky this morning," you say, cupping his face with your hand. His hands slide into the open front of the shirt to grab onto one of your breasts, while the other wraps loosely around your throat. You inhale sharply, gripping the countertop hard when Joel pinches your nipple sharply between his thumb and pointer finger, his hand flexing against your throat. You both knew exactly where this was going, you make a low keening noise in your chest with need. Before you could react, he picks you up by the waist and spins you around, dropping you on the opposite kitchen counter.

You gasp as the cold, hard surface touches the heated skin on the back of your thighs. He places himself in between your spread legs and claims your lips into a heated kiss as you wrap both legs around his waist and grab his thick hair with both hands. He scratches his blunt nails down the length of your back, making you moan into his mouth. Joel's poor shirt doesn't stand a chance as he pulls apart both sides of the shirt you're wearing, you could hear buttons bouncing somewhere in the distance. He dips his head down to kiss on each of your now pebbled nubs as his hands explore every part of your exposed body. Being as in love with your nipples as he was, he goes right back to lick your right nipple while rubbing his thumb back and forth over your left one - occasionally giving it a little pinch - before putting his whole mouth over it to suck on and run his tongue across it. He does this while alternating the actions between the two nipples, paying equal attention to both.

You whimper, body vibrating with desire, as you grip his hair harder. Both of his hands then grab your hips, pulling you forward roughly to the edge of the counter. He pulls his sweats down and brings himself closer to you, teasing your lips with his tip, causing you to shiver. You could tell he's worked up by the way his eyes are serious and focused, concentrated on the pleasure. Before you could even draw a breath in, he buries himself into you to the hilt. Never truly getting used to the sheer size of his dick, you gasp but quickly sigh happily at the feeling, your head thrown back as Joel's lips are on your shoulder, nipping and sucking your skin.

He starts with a deep and harsh pace, thrusting slow, but hard enough to make you jerk forward, gasping with your mouth agape. Your moans get louder as he kisses your collarbone and makes his way up your neck to your jawline, making you clench around him on his next harsh thrust. Joel lets out a groan so deep, it makes you somehow even more turned on than you already were. Searing heat and urgency coursing through your veins, you use your hand on the kitchen counter as leverage and start to thrust back against Joel, meeting his hips with your own.

You're over the moon with pleasure when he angles his thrusts to better hit your sweet spot. The first time he does this, your hand goes from gripping his hair to fisting the front of his t-shirt, twisting the fabric so hard you could rip it. With the pounding of Joel's hips at that angle, you can feel the coil deep in your stomach starting to tighten. You could tell he was just as close as you were, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips. His face is flushed, biting his bottom lip with his eyes screwed shut and his forehead wrinkled with concentration, he looked so beautiful in this moment.

His hips start to stutter, desperately chasing his own high as he takes you. You tighten around him, coaxing his orgasm while lost in the pleasure yourself. When he gives a final, sharp thrust, you moan as the orgasm washes over you, your whole body quivering as he stills with a deep grunt. You're both breathing heavily still holding onto each other and your legs still wrapped around his waist. “I think it’s safe to say that we’ve worked up an appetite, baby,” Joel laughs, still slightly panting, "You're going to love the spread of breakfast I made you." Yup, domestic bliss indeed.

277 notes · View notes

pedrohub · 4 hours

Photo

PEDRO PASCAL for Flaunt Magazine (2023)

#pedro pascal #ppascaledit #pedropascaledit #ours #allie #gifs #useraurore #tuserpolly #tusercora #usermandie #usermaguire #useroaks #useriselin

224 notes · View notes

sinful-mind-joyful-thoughts · 3 days

Text

sᴡᴇᴀᴛʏ

screencaps and gifs: @din-jarring They're truly amazing, the best! Their inspiring presence sparked the creation of this story, bringing characters to life in a remarkable way. I highly recommend checking them out—they're a beacon of talent and inspiration! 💕✨️💕

Pairing: Jaiver Peña x fem!reader

Summary: In hot weather, Javier and you get cozy on his couch. The broken AC doesn't stop the heat between you two in any way, shape or form.

Warnings/tags: MDNI 18+, degradation, praise, male moaning, breeding kink, kissing, oral M and F receiving, face sitting, alcohol consumption, power dynamics, explicit language,Unprotected sex wrap it before you tap it, kids. THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION, YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR THE CONTENT YOU CONSUME

WC: 2.7K

The midday sun bore down relentlessly upon Javier's apartment, defying any hopes of cool respite. Despite his efforts, the small space offered little relief from the Colombian heat. Javier reclined on the worn tan couch, a cold beer in hand, his brow glistening with sweat. You surrendered to the stifling atmosphere, abandoning any notion of productivity to join Javier on the couch.

With a sigh of relief, Javier popped the top off a cold beer, the droplets of condensation offering a tantalizing promise of refreshment amidst the stifling heat. As you fanned yourself with a magazine, attempting to alleviate the oppressive warmth, a complaint about the temperature slipped from your lips. "It's so hot I can barely breathe," you remarked, turning to face Javier.

Despite the discomfort, Javier remained effortlessly attractive, even with sweat causing his hair to cling to his forehead. You met his gaze before setting the magazine aside and peeling off your sweater, revealing the tank top underneath. The relief of shedding layers was immediate, the cool fabric offering a welcome change from the heat of the sweater.

You sighed deeply, closing your eyes as you leaned back, resting your head against the soft cushion of Javier's couch. Beads of sweat trickled down your forehead, tracing a path down to your chest and seeping into the fabric of your tank top. You were almost certain that your nipples were poking through the fabric of your tank top. Bras felt like torture chambers for your breasts, so you rarely wore them, and today was no exception.

You heard some movement beside you and opened your eyes to find Javi had taken his shirt off. He was fit, but not fit enough to deny cake, that was for sure. A blush crept onto your cheeks at the sight, and Javi, catching your reaction, quipped, "What? Can I not take my shirt off as well?”

Your cheeks flamed even hotter, and you stuttered, "N-no, I mean, yeah, of course you can..." Your words trailed off as you struggled to regain your composure, feeling the heat rise to your face. Javi chuckled at your flustered state, his easy grin melting any lingering tension. "Relax, it's just too damn hot," he said, gesturing towards the sweltering room.

Feeling somewhat relieved by his casual response, you managed to compose yourself enough to ask, "Um, is the AC on?"

Javi nodded, understanding your concern, and got up to check the air conditioning unit. After a moment, he returned, frustration etched on his face.

"It's broken," he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Guess we'll have to tough it out until I can get someone to fix it."

You groaned inwardly, feeling a fresh wave of heat wash over you at the news. "Great," you muttered, resigning yourself to the sweltering heat that seemed determined to cling to every corner of the apartment.

Javi began by slipping off his shoes, followed by the removal of his pants. "Well, I'm getting comfortable," he stated casually, his voice echoing in the room. Your cheeks flushed as Javi continued to undress before you, each movement captivating your attention. As he started to take off his pants, you couldn't resist stealing a glance at the prominent outline in his boxers.

Looking up at him from your seated position, you found yourself mesmerized by his presence. Standing before you, Javi exuded an aura of confidence that was almost intoxicating. His demeanor sent a shiver down your spine, stirring a heat within you that had nothing to do with the temperature of the room.

Standing before you in just his boxers, Javi's half-hard dick was unmistakably visible, his smirk betraying his bold intentions. Without a hint of shame, he openly admired your breasts, his gaze filled with desire. "You have no idea how much I want you right now," he confessed, his voice husky with longing.

In response, you met Javi's gaze with a coy expression, your hands gently resting on your thigh. "Javi?" you murmured, seeking clarity or perhaps a moment of hesitation in his eyes.

Meeting your gaze with unbridled lust, Javi's response was unapologetically direct. "Do you know how much I would pay to fuck right now?" he whispered, the intensity of his desire palpable in the air between you.

You brought one of your hands up to his thigh, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips. "How much?" you whispered, your voice barely above a breath. With a daring move, your hand traced the line of his boxers, pushing the fabric lower exposing more of his curly little happy trail. Your gaze met his with an intensity that mirrored your desire, those same sweet eyes inviting him closer.

In response, Javi's hand moved to caress the back of your head, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. The air between you crackled with anticipation, each touch igniting a fiery longing that begged to be quenched.

As his soft touch swiftly changed, Javi's demeanor shifted, his grip on your hair becoming firmer, almost commanding. With a forceful tug, he compelled your head to tilt back, exposing the vulnerable curve of your throat. Leaning in closer, his face mere inches from yours, he exuded an intensity that left you breathless.

In the charged silence that followed, Javi's voice was a low, husky whisper against your ear. "How much? Enough to make you forget your own name, baby," he declared, his words a potent blend of desire and possession. And with that declaration hanging in the air, your lips finally crashed with his, igniting a fiery passion that consumed you both.

Lost in the heat of the moment, you melted into each other on the couch, the world outside fading into obscurity as you surrendered to the intoxicating rhythm of desire. Every touch, every kiss was an affirmation of the intense connection between you, each moment building upon the next until you were both consumed by an insatiable hunger for one another.

He lowered you onto your back, his weight pressing deliciously against you as he moved over the top of you, his lips trailing soft kisses along your neck. But as his advances intensified, you pushed him off gently, a mischievous glint dancing in your eyes as you rose to your feet, leaving Javi looking confused.

"If you're paying..." you began, a smirk playing at the corners of your lips as you dropped to your knees before him, your hands caressing his thighs and stomach teasingly. "I should be extra caring towards you," you continued, your voice dripping with playful seduction. "You know, Javi, you're just..."

Before you could finish your sentence, Javi cut you off abruptly, his grip on your hair tight as he pulled you closer. "Suck my dick or I'm not paying you anything," he commanded, his tone firm and demanding. With a silent nod, you complied, reaching to pull Javi's dick out of his boxers.

Javi may have been a cocky asshole, but he had good reason to be. His dick was at least the size of a coke can, a fact that was impossible to ignore. With a small spit into your hand, you began to stroke his impressive length softly, feeling the weight of it in your palm. Drawing closer to him, you licked his shaft a few times before softly sucking on the pinkish tip, humming as you did so.

Javi, eager for more, used his hand to guide your mouth further down his dick. Taking the hint, you accepted the challenge, taking as much of him into your mouth as you could manage, even if it felt like your mouth might split in half. With one hand still working his shaft, you moved the other to his balls, gently fondling them as you continued to please him. A sweet sound escaped Javi's lips in response, spurring you on to suck a little more of him into your mouth.

As your lips enveloped him, Javi's hips instinctively lifted, driving himself deeper into your mouth. The sudden intrusion made you gag slightly, but you fought to maintain your composure, meeting his gaze with glossy eyes filled with a mixture of desire and determination. Sensing your reaction, Javi's movements became more deliberate, his thrusts growing softer and more controlled as he found a rhythm that suited both of you.

With each movement, you adjusted, finding your own pace to match his, the sensation of him filling your mouth and sending shivers of pleasure down your spine. As he continued to thrust, you shifted your focus, using one hand to gently massage and fondle his balls, adding an extra layer of stimulation that drove him wild with desire.

As Javi's hips stilled, he let out a low, guttural moan, the sound sending a thrill coursing through you. "God damn," he muttered, his voice thick with desire. "Get on my dick. If I'm paying, I'm cumming inside of you."

You continued to softly suck on his dick, your lips trailing teasingly along his length as you listened to his words. His moans were like music to your ears, each sound fueling the fire burning between you. With a deliberate pop, you released his dick from your mouth, a mischievous glint dancing in your eyes as you shed your pants and underwear, revealing the extent of your arousal. You were soaked, the evidence of your desire glistening on your skin.

Noticing the hunger in Javi's gaze, you felt a surge of excitement rush through you. He leaned forward, his lips pressing against your stomach in a hungry kiss before his hands gripped your upper thighs, guiding you to straddle his face. Your pussy hovered tantalizingly over his mouth, the anticipation sending shivers down your spine as you felt the tickle of his mustache against your inner thighs.

"Ready to forget your name?" Javi said smugly, his words sending a thrill of anticipation through you. Without waiting for a response, he placed a direct kiss on your clit, his tongue expertly finding the sensitive area with ease.

Javi's tongue worked its magic on your clit, setting off an explosion of pleasure that made you arch your back in ecstasy. Waves of sensation rippled through your entire body, leaving you gasping for air as Javi's precise movements brought you closer to the edge.

With each passing second, you felt yourself unraveling under the intensity of Javi's touch. The world around you faded away as you surrendered to the pleasure he bestowed upon you. His lips and tongue moved with a rhythm that matched the pounding of your heart, pushing you toward the brink of desire-fueled madness.

As the heat between you intensified, a primal need for release consumed your every thought. Your fingers gripped the fabric of the couch as you rode the wave of pleasure, feeling it threaten to overwhelm you completely.

In a final, desperate cry of ecstasy, you shattered into a million pieces, consumed by the overwhelming bliss of climax. Javi's name escaped your lips in a breathless whisper as you succumbed to the ecstasy that washed over you, your body trembling with the force of your release.

With a smirk playing on his now arousal-covered face, Javi gently lowered your legs before positioning you to straddle him. There was a fleeting moment of pure bliss in his gaze as he looked at you, his eyes filled with desire. Your lips met in a passionate kiss as he began to insert his sizable cock into you, eliciting a moan from your lips at the delicious stretch.

You weren't a stranger to intimacy, but the sheer girth of him made you gasp in pleasure. Javi's reputation was well-deserved, and as he filled you, you couldn't help but marvel at the intensity of sensation coursing through your body. Once you were fully seated on his dick, a deep, guttural moan escaped your lips, the sound muffled as Javi pulled you close to his chest.

The scent of sweat and sex hung heavy in the air, the room's humidity rising with each passionate movement shared between you and Javi. It was as if the very atmosphere around you was charged with the heat of your desire, amplifying the intensity of your connection.

You started to move your hips a little faster, grinding against him as your breasts pressed tantalizingly against his chest. Each movement sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, aching to find that perfect spot inside of you that promised pure ecstasy. Javi held you close, his grip firm yet gentle as he guided your movements, his desire evident in the way he met your rhythm.

With a low groan, Javi shifted his legs to rest on the coffee table in front of him, angling himself to better thrust into you. The change in position sent a shiver of anticipation down your spine as you felt him plunge deeper inside you, the sensation overwhelming yet utterly intoxicating. Javi's groan mingled with your moans of pleasure.

Javi released his hold on you, his hands moving to your hips, ensuring you were perfectly settled upright on his dick. A gasp escaped your lips at the sudden change, the sensation of him hitting that sweet spot sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your entire being. Javi could feel your grip tightening around him, a sure sign that he had found the spot that drove you wild.

With a primal intensity, Javi began to pound up into you, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure radiating through your body. His hands held you firmly in place as you braced yourself against his chest, your nails digging into his skin as you clung to him for dear life. Your moans grew louder with each passing moment, a symphony of desire that filled the room.

As the coil of pleasure tightened in your stomach, you felt yourself teetering on the edge of ecstasy. With a loud cry, you felt the wave of orgasm crashing over you, your body trembling with the force of it. You buried your face in Javi's shoulder, overcome with the intensity of sensation coursing through you.

Javi, sensing your release, slowed his thrusts, not wanting to overstimulate you. "Awe, giving up so soon?" he teased, his voice husky with desire. "What am I paying you for?" But even as he spoke, the desire in his eyes burned brightly.

As Javi's hips drove upwards with a relentless urgency, the sheer force of his movements sent you spiraling further into ecstasy. Your head fell back, exposing your neck to the heated air as waves of pleasure washed over you, leaving you trembling in their wake. With each thrust, your senses were overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of the pleasure coursing through your veins.

His voice, thick with desire, reached your ears like a primal growl, stirring something deep within you. "You like that, huh?" Javi's words were more of a statement than a question, his tone dripping with satisfaction as he watched your reactions with hungry eyes. The way he took you, possessing you with every thrust, ignited a fire within you that burned hotter with each passing moment.

Unable to form coherent words, you could only manage a breathless nod in response, your body responding to his touch with a fervor that bordered on desperation. With each thrust, the coil of pleasure tightened in your stomach, the anticipation of release driving you to the brink of oblivion.

As the intensity of your connection reached its peak, Javi's movements became more frenzied, driving you both toward the edge of ecstasy. With a final, desperate cry, you felt the wave of orgasm crashing over you, your body convulsing with the force of it as you surrender yourself fully to the pleasure.

And then, in that moment of pure bliss, you felt him release inside you, his hot seed spilling deep within your core. The sensation of him pulsing within you sent shockwaves of pleasure rippling through your body, amplifying the intensity of your climax until you were both consumed by the sheer ecstasy of it all.

He slid out of you, his movements slow and deliberate, before pulling you into his arms on the couch. You couldn't help but giggle at the playful exchange as he reached for his wallet. "So, how much?" he asked, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes.

"100 dollars," you replied with a mischievous grin, teasing him with the modest amount.

A smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he regarded you fondly. "You're worth more than that," he murmured, his voice filled with genuine affection. With a playful flick of his wrist, he tossed his wallet in your direction before leaning back against the cushions, a smirk playing on his lips.

172 notes · View notes