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macfrog · 5 months

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the sweetest con cowboy like me chapter fifteen

well. this is it. we made it, kids. thank you so, so much for reading for all this time. for all your patience, and kindness, and loyalty. i will carry this pair, their story, and all of your love for them with me forever. love you guys. xx

pairing: dbf!joel miller x fem!reader

summary: every cowboy deserves his ride off into the sunset.

warnings: age gap (reader is 23, joel is 48), lotsa guilt from reader, dreamy love sequence & mention of unprotected piv/creampie, more greys anatomy spoilers, reader's dad is either Bald or has a Receding Hairline (you choose), more sex - this time reader and joel sixty-nine, face sitting, oral (f and m receiving), more (inferred) unprotected piv, making dirty, hot love ALLAT, cursing, a little smut n a lotta fluff n a droplet of angst at the end

word count: 10.8k

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“How the fuck did this take you three minutes? Three?”

“I’m telling you. I’m a genius.”

You snort. “Shut up. You only passed Math ‘cause you were fooling around with that nerd – Thomas? Was it Thomas?”

“Timothy. And you don’t need math to do a sudoku puzzle, loser. You just need brains. Logic.” Anna taps two fingers against her temple, tilting her head.

“Logic,” you murmur, shaking your head.

Sal’s is quiet today. He’s out of town for his father-in-law’s funeral and made the genius decision to leave the two of you in charge. Since opening at nine, you’ve had four customers. The to-do list left for you was completed by ten, and since then, you’ve been hunched over your phone at the cash register, messing around on some puzzle app Anna made you download.

It's a Wednesday. Nothing exciting ever happens on Wednesdays.

Anna’s behind you, tearing apart and flattening the cardboard boxes you spent all morning emptying. “That level,” she clicks her chewing gum wetly between her teeth, scent of mint over your shoulder, “that ain’t even the hardest one. Ooh, no, babe. Three goes –”

“Shh!” You bat her arm away, curving your hand over your phone screen. She snorts and wanders off through the back, wad of cardboard under her arm.

Anna wasn’t your closest friend in high school, and you sure didn’t stay much in touch past the odd Facebook post update when you left. But working with her, and her dad being your dad’s buddy – she’s sort of become one of those people you just can’t shake.

Like a stray puppy. Or…an annoying hangnail.

She’s nice enough – talks a lot of crap sometimes, but she cares for you. You’d go as far as saying you two have grown pretty close since you came home. Still, the acidic sting of resentment sits on your tongue, anytime you think of her involvement in the unravelling of your little lie. Think of your dad calling hers, Hank asking her where you were.

Think of the fact that, if she hadn’t been honest with him – I don’t know where she is, Dad – nothing would’ve gone wrong.

That’s not fair. If you’d never touched Joel in the first place, nothing would’ve gone wrong.

It’s just – she had a hand in pushing the first domino.

The bell above the door jingles and you lift your eyes from tiny numbers and blank squares to meet a familiar pair of hazel. An Alanis Morissette T-shirt under a denim jacket. She tucks her thick, soft hair behind her ears and smiles, then skips around the counter and links her hands at your tummy; her ear flat against the nape of your neck.

“Why so clingy?” you ask, and Sarah straightens up.

“Just excited to spend some time with my favorite person. That allowed?”

Your eyes scan her up and down as she leans against the counter, stealing a gummy from a jar beside the register. “Been staying with you for nearly three weeks now, you ain’t sick of me yet?”

She shakes her head, jaw chewing, cheeks swollen with a grin. “Are you done yet? I wanna make sure we get good seats.”

“We will,” you assure her. “It’s only, like, three p.m.”

“But it’s Barbie,” she says, “and I wanna get some snacks before we head in.” She holds the decapitated gummy worm up, eyebrows high, before pulling it between her teeth until it snaps. She drags the withered red tail over her tongue.

“That thing you just mauled,” you gesture to the masticated shape in her fingers, “candy. Snacks. Just take some of that.”

“You won’t even buy your date movie theater candy? Damn. Mom’s a cheapskate. Wish I could say my dad’s a lucky guy.”

You shove her off, disguising your laugh with a shake of your head. “You are on thin ice, I’m not even kidding.”

Sarah’s laughing, reaching for another worm. “You know what that sounds like?”

“Hm?”

“What you just said.”

“What’s it sound like, Sarah Miller?”

“Something a mom would say.”

“Alright,” you stand, “get out. Get outta my store.”

The door opens when you point to it, Texan heat sweeping in to swarm the one rickety fan you have in here. The brass bell trembles, and beneath it, a man in a tucked shirt and jeans, glum face and tired eyes.

You blink at him and he blinks back, and no words are spoken between you, but your dad understands to move, to keep walking – and you understand to let him.

“Shoot,” Sarah whispers, twisting her gummy around her finger. “That was awkward.”

Three weeks of staying with them – Sarah and Joel – also means three weeks of zero contact with your dad. The most you’ve heard from – or, rather, about him is that, last week, Joel bumped into Hank at the gas station, and the old man mentioned that he and your dad had grabbed a beer the night before.

What’d he say? you asked Joel, dragging a dish towel around the rim of a glass.

He shrugged, flicking his hands dry over the sink. Said the Rangers aren’t doin’ too good. I said, Yeah, that’s cause a’ –

No, Joel. What did he say about me ‘n my dad?

He waited a second to let the offense of your interruption soak in. Took the towel from your hand, replaced the glass on the draining board. Nothing, he said, I don’t think he knows.

It sat with you the entire night. The three of you watched a movie, occupying either side of Joel’s couch, though you’re sure you don’t remember a word of it. The image of him sat center-stage in your mind until you pulled yourself against Joel’s body in bed that night. Sat in his recliner, flicking through TV channels, the only sounds in the house that of Ice Road Truckers, the ticking of the kitchen clock, and his own fucking breathing.

Alone. Not even Hank to talk to about – well.

You’ve done your best not to think about him. And it works, most days, when you’re with Joel. Helps to go do stuff: ride shotgun while he picks up supplies for work or grabs groceries. Helps to play pretend like his house is yours, too. Tidying when he’s not home, lighting candles and sinking into a bubble bath for him to find you in when he finishes. Helps to be at Sal’s, with Anna. Sudoku and her fucking Tinder account to keep you both occupied.

Most days, you forget to consider the lonely shape of your dad at all – but that seems to hurt all the more. Like forgetting to tend to an open wound; instead, letting the infection blister and bubble so that, when you do bump it again, the pain feels sharper. Hissing at you, poison seeping from flesh.

His showing up, waltzing straight into the store – feels less like a bump, and more like a pair of hands diving straight into the gash, tearing it wide open again. Blood and poison gushing all over the checkered floor.

Anna materializes between two aisles, hands on her hips when she stands behind you. “Y’all still not really talkin’?” she asks.

You and Sarah shake your heads. The three of you watch the shape of your dad’s skull over the shelves, bobbing from bay to bay. Door hinges to fence paint. He painted the fence last summer. He doesn’t need fucking fence paint.

“Nope,” you reply. “’s been, what, two and a half weeks now?”

“Yeah,” Anna mutters, the slope of sympathy in her voice. “My dad’s been talkin’ to him about it. They’ve spoken, like, almost every night on the phone.”

“Oh, fuck,” you hiss, head falling into your hands. “Are you serious?”

“Not about you and Joel. Just about the fight.”

Your jaw slowly slackens, eyes thinning as your gaze slides over to your friend, a saddened expression on her face.

Sarah nods, like an accessory sat on the dash of a car. Bobbing bobbing bobbing, until her brows drop and she turns to you, finally realizing. “Wait, what?”

Anna blinks between the two of you. “What?” she asks, lips pressing together.

“You know?” Sarah asks, glaring at her.

Anna snorts. Neither of you break. She quickly quietens and clears her throat, bending to stuff more cardboard under her arm. “Well…” She sucks in a deep breath. “At rodeo night, when you left your phone on the table, me ‘n Kara wanted to leave a bunch of selfies for you to find later. But when I went to grab your phone, you had a text from him. Joel. Something about someone winning you over like he did, or something. I can’t remember. But that was the first thing.”

Sarah’s face sours at the mention of her dad’s flirty text, scoffing as she swipes another gummy from the jar. “Real fuckin’ subtle, Dad,” she murmurs.

You sharpen your gaze at Anna, blurring the brown curls and low brows from your peripheral. “Uhuh…?”

“Then, there was the lying to your dad about where you were. That Monday – you said you were at mine. You weren’t. Your dad called my dad to ask, ‘n my dad asked me why the hell you’d lie. I figured, What a weird coincidence, right?”

You slip off your stool, legs feeling more liquid than bone. “Oh, Jesus…”

“But then…then, I saw how you were when he called on the way to Frank’s. In the car. You were…fucking weird. And then Joel punched that dude – that basically confirmed it. I don’t think either of your dads would do that for me. It felt…it felt personal. He took your hand ‘n dragged you outta there, and it felt like…somethin’ else.”

You’re leaning against the counter, head in your hands. Struggling to even listen to her piece it all together. Were you this fucking obvious, the whole time?

Anna answers for you. “Yeah,” she says, nodding, “I didn’t catch two fucking boyfriends cheating on me, and not pick up some detective skills, babe.”

You stand straight, composure slowly building over shame. “And your dad doesn’t know? My –” you flick your head across the store, lowering your voice, “– my dad hasn’t told him?”

A laugh spurts from somewhere deep in her chest. “Hell, no. Are you tryna give him a second heart attack? No. He just thinks you were somewhere you didn’t want your dad to know – a boy’s or something. Which – well, I guess you were.”

You nod, half-appreciation, half-resignation. Alright. Now shut up about it, would you?

“But listen,” Anna says, apparently not as good at mindreading as she is at secret-revealing, “y’all gotta work on being sneaky. You’re, like, really bad at it.”

“Yeah,” you sniff, “thanks, Anna.”

You grip the edge of the counter and try to draw your eye away from your dad; a little angry that he’s here, and yet, a little more thankful that you’ve had at least a tiny glimpse of him. Desperate for him to come over, to acknowledge your mutual existence in the same room, and yet – petrified that he does.

He keeps his back to you, though you notice him turning every so often, looking at you from his peripheral. Nope – your black shirt and blue jeans are still behind the counter. He turns back to the shelf.

“Hi, sweetie.” A woman in a pink blouse approaches the counter. She lays down a couple pairs of plyers and you ring her up, asking if she found everything okay. Choking a little when you inhale the scent of her perfume.

“Beautiful day for you to be in here workin’, huh?” Her rosy cheeks fill as she hands you the cash.

Oh, yeah. It’s a beautiful day to be stuck selling plyers to pink women in pink blouses smelling of pink perfume, while my dad – still reeling from the revelation that I’ve been sleeping with his best friend, by the way – pretends to peruse the store.

“I’m almost done,” you reply, blunt enough to deflate her expression only a little, sliding the paper bag stamped Sal’s back across the counter.

She nods in thanks and slinks off, suffocating aroma following her. And like a magician, when she disappears off to the side, your dad stands in her wake. A few feet from you, keeping his distance, watching carefully before he dares to move. Waiting for your go-ahead.

When you lift your chin, beckoning him forward, Anna takes Sarah’s arm and yanks her away, shoving some shredded boxes into her arms. “You wanna help me?” she asks the nosy Miller, tossing something of an alarmed glance back at you and your dad.

There’s a funny feeling behind your eyes when he steps up, empty hand resting hesitantly on the counter. “She coverin’ up the smell of a dead body or som’?” he asks.

The air pushes from your lungs, a laugh barreling with it. Your hands clasp on the surface opposite his. A scorch of white heat at the nape of your neck. “Very vibrant, huh?”

“Very.” He clears his throat, shakes his head a little, and takes a deep breath. “I figured this might be as good a place as any to find you. I didn’t want you to think I was…cornering you, or anything, if I showed up at Joel’s.”

“I wouldn’t – I mean, maybe. But, y’know…this is fine.” Your arms cross defensively, the baggy material of Joel’s shirt wrapping snug around you.

Your dad seems to know. Evidence being that it’s you, in a shirt all too big – a shirt he’d likely see his best friend in, too. It forces your arms tighter, sucking in the scent of Joel to combat the dizzying feeling of nerves.

“I’m glad to see you’re alright,” he says eventually, fingers drumming awkwardly. “I just wanted to know you were fine.”

“I am fine. I promise. Just – working a lot.”

He nods, looking down to his feet. Twists the toe of his boot into the linoleum.

“I’m glad to see you’re alright, too,” you offer, the words fluid and spilling from one to the next – something forceful in their nature.

Your dad’s eyes lift at the same time that his cheeks do. Relief. “Thanks, kiddo. I actually – I was hopin’ that maybe we could talk. If you’re free. I don’t know what time you get off today.”

“I finish in ten minutes,” you say, and hope seems to paint across his face – washing away instantly when you add, “but I’m going to the movies with Sarah.”

He’s nodding again, eyes fixed back on his boots. “Right, right.”

“…But maybe once we’re done I can swing by?”

“Oh, well – I’m workin’ late again. I’ll be out by the time…Yeah. Sorry, hon.”

“That’s okay.”

“Late one again tonight.”

“This, uh – what’s his name again? Kel–?”

“Kelman, yeah. Yeah. How ‘bout I call you tomorrow ‘n we can work somethin’ out? You and Sarah, you enjoy your night.”

You lean back from the counter, slowly more confident in your ability to hold yourself upright. “Yeah. Okay. Thanks, Dad.”

His lips press together in a flat attempt at a smile. “I’ll leave you to it. You mind if I…give you a hug?”

And then you’re the one awkwardly, forcedly smiling. Your teeth gritting behind taut lips. “Not at all,” you whisper, and wander carefully around the counter to where he stands.

He opens his arms and pulls you against his chest, your head tilting to rest your ear on his shoulder. You hook your arms under his, feeling his wrists crossing at your spine. Like two statues, two figures of stone fixing their crumbling bodies in an embrace, suddenly disjointed and ill-fitting. Your heart hurts beneath layers of rock, swelling in attempt to reach for his, shrinking back crestfallen when he feels too far.

He kisses the side of your head, pulls away, and taps your cheek once. “You know,” he says, letting you withdraw from his grasp, “I really miss you.”

You nod. “Miss you, too.”

“Let’s talk soon, alright?”

“Yeah.”

And then he’s leaving, drifting back out into the summer sun, rock disintegrating as the light catches him again. More human, less monster-under-your-bed. He’s just your dad again, just that swaying, bumbling man who used to sprinkle rainbow flakes over your ice cream and double-knot your laces.

The shadows of Sarah and Anna appear at your elbows, the three of you watching your dad sink into his car. You still feel made of rock, splitting somewhere down the middle as you stare at his figure.

“Well?” Sarah asks.

He turns right out of the parking lot, disappears behind a hedgerow.

“Yeah,” you reply, turning in a daze. “We’re gonna…gonna talk.”

“That’s good, right? That sounds…promising.”

You shrug. “I guess.”

Sarah places a gentle hand on your arm, drawing your attention to her kind eyes and infectious smile. “We should probably get goin’,” she says, and you agree.

“What movie are you seeing?” Anna asks, filling your spot behind the counter as you turn, making for the back of the store.

“Barbie,” Sarah tells her.

“Nice. She paying?”

“Obviously. Mom duties.”

You kick the door closed on their giggles.

Two days pass without a word from your dad. No text, no call, no visit to Sal’s when you’re on shift the following day. By Monday, you’ve convinced yourself that the entire thing was a dream, a hallucination conjured up by your imagination in attempt to rid you of some of the guilt still chewing at your heart. Bat it out of your brain, like swatting the rear end of a wild animal let loose indoors.

Guilt which is only remedied, only soothed by Joel. By the feeling which overcomes your chest when you look at him – lungs faltering, heart leaping. The peace of falling asleep in his safe embrace, the heat from his body enough to keep you comfortable all night, and then waking up tangled in his sheets – the smell of bacon and eggs twirling through the house, the distant sound of his humming drawing you downstairs to his side.

Late nights on the porch, watching the sun bleed heavily into the sky. Your ankles in his lap, a guitar over his thigh. Thumb gentle on the strings, soft timbre of song lulling you to some place far from reality: the same rosy, dreamlike state you’ve mostly occupied since he dragged you through his front door, kicked your shoes and all of your worries to the side, and made you forget that anything bad had ever happened.

The most comfortable you’ve ever felt in your life, the most loved – a world where your every word is heard and weighed, rolling around Joel’s palms and slotting carefully into his back pocket. A world where his lips on your neck as you make dinner, where the crook of his arm catching you as you pass by, is all normal. Where I love you and I love you, too become the last words your sleepy ears hear at night, right before you sink into a shared sleep.

All of it becoming as natural as the pale moon switching for her golden sister at dawn. As instinctive as breathing.

“Have you ever made love to anyone?” you ask him one night, the aftershock of an orgasm still soaking into your skin.

Joel pauses, hips slowing between yours. “Yeah,” after a couple beats, “sure.”

“What’s it feel like?” you ask, honestly. Combing his dark hair through your fingers. “I’ve never…No one’s ever…”

“Baby,” he says. “We’ve done it. I’ve done it to you.”

Your body tenses and then melts around him. One blink and suddenly the world softens, seems to bow into the background – the only sharp object Joel, the twinkle in his eye piercing through the haze like blinking white stars in thick, dark clouds.

You whisper, “Can you do it again? So I can feel what it’s like?”

He pushes himself up, one elbow planted by your ear, the other hand lifting your thigh. Hooking it over his waist, lowering his arm again to cage you under his body. He nudges your chin with his nose, lifting it to line your lips with his, hold every part of your body as close to his as he can.

Deeper, in every sense of the word. Slow, hard. Eyes on you the entire time, watching the way your face contorts and your jaw slackens, holding the shape of your head in his hands, swallowing his own moans and grunts to make space between you for yours.

“Look at me, baby, eyes on me,” he says, and by instinct, your eyes roll forward, focusing or half-focusing on the slick hair at his forehead, the red flush climbing his neck, seeping into the skin under his beard. “You feel it? Feel where I’m goin’?”

And yeah, you whine, you do feel it. Feel him dragging you further away from this world and into the next – somewhere a plain away, somewhere new and different to anything you’ve ever known before. Where physicality is a language, a fluid conversation between the melding of his body and yours; where there are a million words swirling around his pupils, hypnotizing and entrancing and drawing you in until you’re tumbling headfirst into the inky pools.

Where I love you sounds like the groan Joel can’t hold back, feels like the pulsing flood as he snaps between your legs. Where making love is as simple as the squeeze of his hand around yours; the shove of his plate over the kitchen table, offering you the last bite of grilled cheese or simply admitting that it was yours before he’d even taken the first. That addictive laugh of his when you stall the fucking truck for the fifth time: You asked me to teach you, baby, I’m tryna teach you. Foot on the gas, c’mon. You got it. That’s it – now, slow. Slower. Try to feel it. No, really feel it.

Feel it. Really, try to feel it. Can you feel it? Do you know the difference yet? The difference between everyone who was before, and the one who is now? Do you finally get it?

“I feel it,” you cry out, and his frame holds yours together as you fall apart.

It feels like – you.

How did I ever know anything before I knew you?

“That one’s nice,” Joel says, his voice jumping the short distance between his lips and your ear.

You tilt your head, body moving with his when he lifts his hand to swipe through some more of the images. The spacious living room, newly refurbed kitchen, the view of downtown Los Angeles.

He adjusts the blanket draped over your legs. “Washer dryer, walk-in closet,” and then, leaning in closer, whispers, “a balcony. That’s cool.”

“Hm,” you turn to face him, your body shelled by his in the corner of his couch, “I bet you like the balcony, cowboy.”

He smiles plainly in response, squeezing your nose between two knuckles. Yeah. Lots you can do with a balcony.

A sharp gasp from across the room pierces the sweet moment. You and Joel turn in its direction, its owner wide-eyed and blinking at the TV.

“Wait a second,” Sarah yelps. “George is the John Doe?” She gasps again when Meredith announces the same news to her friends onscreen. “Shut – the fuck – up!”

“Language,” Joel clips, chest rumbling between your shoulder blades.

“Oh, like you didn’t have the exact same reaction. George is the…Oh, that sucks. Are you kidding me?” She fishes her phone from the waves of blanket surrounding her, thumbs rapidly typing, eyes shooting from screen to screen.

You snort, turning back to your own phone in your hand, when a text appears at the top of the screen.

Dad: Hey kiddo. Sorry to keep you waiting, work been hectic. Off the rest of today if you’re free to come over.

Your thumb latches onto the message, holding it for Joel to read, too, before letting it disappear off into your notifications.

He tightens his hold on you, burying his nose into the cotton of his own hoodie over your shoulders. His breath pushes heavy and thoughtful across the material. “Still seems as calm as the other day.”

“Too calm,” you admit, “it’s freaking me out.”

“What can he do, you know? You’re here, he’s there. Your dad ain’t an idiot, baby. He knows stayin’ angry about it’s only gonna push you further away.”

“Sure made ‘im feel like an idiot…”

Joel catches the comment and pockets it before it gathers enough weight to bruise. “Well,” he clears his throat, “it’s up to you. I ain’t letting you do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

“Mhm,” you reply, and wait for more words to fall to your tongue. An answer, a response. A decision that you know you don’t feel equipped or even rightful to make.

“Do you want to go talk to him?” Joel asks.

“I…I want to make things right. I wanna fix it.”

“Okay. And will talking to him do that?”

You turn to face him, frowning. “I don’t fucking know,” you mutter. “Will it?”

He smiles sympathetically. “Wish I knew, darlin’. Would it help if I came? Sat outside in the truck, waited for you? It gets too much, you decide you wanna leave – we leave.”

“You ain’t scared to be near him again?”

He gulps back a laugh, Adam’s apple bobbing awkwardly before he allows himself to answer. “Only thing scary about your dad is the sunlight reflectin’ off his damn head. No, I ain’t scared.”

You study him a minute longer, eyes roaming from the lips you could sketch every score of from memory, the beard you’re sure has forever altered your prints from the number of times you’ve run your fingers over the bristles. The eyes which know every secret, every whisper, every thought behind your own.

You sigh, smiling dumbly as he wraps his arms tighter around you. “Fine. Let’s go.”

Joel pulls up by the curb, parking politely at the end of your driveway rather than alongside your dad’s car, like he usually would. Like he used to.

You crane your head, looking past the shape of him to survey the unassuming house. Quiet, still. No sign of hurricane or earthquake, no tremors of rage or words like rocks raining down on the truck roof. Your thumb plunges into the buckle of your seatbelt, the webbing whipping over your shoulder.

“Sure you’re okay?” Joel asks, watching your fingers lift to the door handle.

“Mhm,” you reply, distant. “’s just my dad, right? What’s the worst that could happen?”

His eyebrows lift, agreeing. He takes your hand in his and holds it to his lips. “Whatever it is,” he mumbles into your fingers, “if it happens, you come straight back out here, you hear? I ain’t moving.”

The urge to stay exactly where you are and let him carry you off back to his place overwhelms you for a brief second. To stay in the safety of the truck cabin, stay within touching distance of Joel. And as quickly as it’s there, it’s gone. Overcome by the memory of that stony hug in Sal’s, the vacant, lonely eyes boring into late-night TV.

A sharp chap over your shoulder shocks you back to life. You twist in your seat, looking down at a face wrinkled by curiosity and wisdom, sheen of lipstick curved in a mischievous grin. You roll the window down, mirroring her smile.

“Joel Miller,” Rita calls, lowering her ring-adorned fist and pointing over to her car. “Help me with these groceries.”

“Afternoon to you, too, Rita,” he calls back, and she raises two thin, penciled eyebrows. His sigh trickles into a chuckle as he snaps the door open, leaning into you. “I ain’t moving,” he mutters, swinging out of the truck.

“Sure looks like you’re movin’,” you call back, letting Rita pull on your door to let you out.

“How are you, darlin’?” she asks. “Haven’t seen you around in a while.”

You hop down beside her, helping her tug the shawl around her arms back over her shoulders. “Yeah, I’ve, uh…I’ve been busy.”

She nods, and then her eyes drift to somewhere behind you. “They go in the kitchen, son.” She points to her house. “I’ll come help you unpack ‘em.”

Joel’s face twists, eyes wide, hands outstretched. You swallow back a laugh when he looks to you, an almost teenage expression which asks, You seein’ this? as he turns back to the Nissan.

“I better go,” Rita says then, giving your arms one last squeeze. “You take care, now. Tell your dad I’m askin’ after ‘im.”

“I will, Rita.” You turn on your heel and saunter around Joel’s truck, giving him one last twirl as he hoists two bags under his muscled arms, rolling his eyes as you spin.

You pull the weight of yourself up your drive, passing past versions of yourself as you near the front door. She’s stumbling towards her dad’s car, a bucket of soapy water sloshing around between her knees. She’s sat on the curb, waiting for Joel’s truck to roll up, praying she never hears another Marty Robbins song again.

She’s naïve, still. Knows no better, knows no worse. Chasing a high, chasing the thrill of being caught and the thrill of nobody ever knowing. A relationship built entirely on lies and deceit. A love woven with dark threads of shame and anger, a tattered mess in one corner where the edges fray and loosen.

And you think: you’ve never felt more jealous of anybody your whole life.

The front door clicks open easily, like the building welcomes you home with a relieved sigh. You follow sunlight into the hallway, feeling it easier to walk through than before – less dense, less suffocating. Less guilty. An honest thief, back to return the bleeding heart she dragged out the door with her.

Secrets like shards of broken glass on the floor, debris from that day. And as if he hears the crunch of your footsteps, your dad appears at the bottom of the hall.

“Hi, hon.”

Eyes wide with a misplaced shock, you say, “Hey.”

“You okay?”

“’m good.”

“Good. Come in, come through.” He beckons you forward, a smile only half-forced on his lips. “You want a drink or anything?”

You follow him into the kitchen, politely accepting a glass of water when he offers it.

He turns with two steady palms on the island, watching as you drag a chair free and sit at the table. “How’s Joel?” he asks, swallowing roughly.

The words come delayed, your open mouth lying in wait. Your body selfishly trying to hoard the information, protective the second the image of that six-foot, two-hundred-pound man crosses your mind. “He’s fine. He’s out front.”

It sounds like a warning, though you don’t mean for it to. Just conversation. He’s helping Rita with her groceries. She’s asking after you, by the way. But your dad seems to sense the natural amber tone of it – the sparking of a flame, daring to catch. He’s waiting for this to go south.

He nods, accepting the fact of it. His own failed attempt to separate the two of you only drove you closer together. Only made you want Joel more.

But then he’s nearing you again, pulling out the chair opposite yours. “I’m glad you’re here,” he says, settling with a sigh. “Glad we’re…we’re talkin’ again, at least.”

Your head angles. “Are we?”

His body jerks, flinching from the sting of the question. “Well,” his head wobbles, jowls quivering, “I sure hope so. I was takin’ it as a good sign that you’re here.”

“I’m here,” you repeat, “but that doesn’t mean I’m staying.”

“No, I know. I know. Joel’s out front, ‘n all that.” He looks down at his hands, clasped in his lap. Holds his tongue behind his front teeth, waiting for the next turn of conversation.

You lean forward, elbows on the table, softening your voice. “Dad?” you say, and he looks up. “This whole entire thing – I think…I think we oughta try and understand each other, a little better. Hear each other out.”

“I am tryin’, hon. I’m really tryin’. You dealt me an awful lot to hear out ‘n understand.”

You rock back, sinking against the hard chair. Tracing the wood grains in the table, nails digging between. Shame coiling like a snake beneath your tongue, taking up too much space in your mouth. Its venom dripping between your teeth, acrid and sour; tendons in your neck jumping with the bitterness of your dad’s tone.

He sighs. “Be honest with me a second.”

“Huh?”

He waits a beat, watching you carefully. Opens his mouth, pauses, and then speaks. “Who instigated it?”

Your finger pushes harder into the surface. Digging new divots. “Um…kinda both of us. Was sort of a two-way thing from the get-go.”

His lips twist, almost imperceptible. He looks behind you to the patio outside. You can’t read what’s in his eyes. It makes you say more, say things you reckon you’ll regret later – but something to fill the silence between you. Something to let him sink his teeth into.

“There was flirting. Lotta flirting. And then it…it just sort of snowballed.”

“Snowballed.” He looks uncomfortable, lifting his hands to cup over his face. “I just didn’t take him as the type,” he says, muffled into his palms.

“As what type?”

He drops his hands, hitting his thighs with a slap, and looks you dead in the eye. Sad, almost. “Arthur Kennedy type.”

“He’s not.”

You say it instinctively. Your ears hear it at the same time your dad does. He looks at you blankly.

“He’s not,” you repeat, a little looser. Less hasty. “Look,” you sigh, “I know it’s not what you want to hear, but…everything that we ever did, I wanted to do. I already told you. There ain’t nothing we did that I didn’t ask him to. I swear to you.”

You think back to the cookout, how angry Joel was at the thought of Arthur Kennedy hanging over you. How pissed he’d be, hearing your dad line him up against that old leather boot of a man. Comparing, contrasting. Here’s how you measure up, son. How much of a phantom Arthur Kennedy has been, your whole life, and how much of a sanctuary Joel is in comparison.

Your stomach twists at the thought. A tight knot, wound by a desperation to clear the name of a man whose worst offense was doing exactly what your dad would’ve told him to: leave.

“This whole thing,” you go on, “it’s a mess, alright? It’s – totally fucked. And we shouldn’t’ve lied, shouldn’t’ve been keeping things from you, but then…what did you expect?”

Your dad cuts in like a bullet: “I expect the two of you not to do what you were doin’.”

“No, I know that. But we did it, right? It’s done now. I meant, did you really want us to sit you down in the living room ‘n say, Hey, Dad – guess what?”

He grimaces at the thought.

“Didn’t think so. We didn’t even know what it was. We had no idea what it’d turn into. But you gotta hear me out: it wasn’t just…some fling, or whatever you’re thinkin’. I swear, Dad, it wasn’t.”

He still doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t lift his stare from the table. You feel like a little kid, desperate to make him love you again. Desperate to make him listen. The space between you fills with the bored tick tick tick of the kitchen clock. Each second hurting a little more than the last.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I’m sorry that I hurt you. I’m sorry I let you down, but…I’m not sorry that I did it. If I could go back, knowing everything I know – I’d do it all over again.”

The words roll across the table to him like billiards. You lean back again, watching them as they rattle from his side to yours – your sentence delivered back into your ears. You nod, a sure thought in your mind.

I’d do it all over again. All the covering, all the hiding. The aching, the wishing and wanting. Staring at Joel’s empty hand, dying to slot yours into it. Dying to put any part of yourself near him; your head under his chin, your arms linked around his waist. Knowing you two would feel, knowing everyone else would see, just how perfectly you fit together.

The chasing your own tails: Did you lie well enough? Do they suspect anything? Did we leave any evidence? Disturbed sheets, a collar still upturned. Can they hear us? Have they noticed we’re missing? We’re always fucking missing.

You’d do it all over again. You know what it cost, now, sat directly opposite the price. His polite smiles like veneers over rotten teeth. The tremble in his lip when he opens his mouth to speak.

And it was worth it. Joel. He was worth it all, in the end.

All over again.

“Do you know that every time I look at you, there are…probably four versions that I see?”

You frown. Did he hear what you just said? All ov–? “What?”

Your dad laughs to himself. “When you walk outta that door, I see a little pink backpack over your shoulders. Gym bag in your hand, maybe. I see missin’ front teeth, I see those little clip-on earrings you used to love so much.

“And – and when you’re mad at me, when we fight, I see you at fourteen. Growing pains, y’know? I still remember you slamming your bedroom door in my face, all ‘cause I wouldn’t let you go to that girl Molly’s birthday party.” He looks up, smiling at your perplexed expression.

“I don’t even…remember that, hardly.”

“Long time ago now. My point is,” he continues, “you’re twenty-three. You’re grown. And I just can’t figure out how to make those other versions…grow with you. You still feel like my kid. Still that little girl with the pink backpack.”

“But,” you clear your throat, trying to swipe her from your own memory, “I’m not. I’m not her anymore, Dad. And I think maybe you gotta give me the space to be someone different, now.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose, nodding. “I know, I know. I just didn’t think this new version of you would…y’know. Be with Joel, ‘n all. That is something I did not see comin’.”

“You think I did?” You spit a laugh. “If you told me when I came home that this is what was waiting for me…that I was gonna fall…”

Your teeth close around the sentence, dropping your dad’s eye. But it’s too late.

He stares back at you like the sun. “…Fall in love with ‘im?”

And you cower. You wince, almost. The last secret. The last thing he doesn’t know. “I don’t…I don’t know, I –”

“You love him. You do, don’t you?”

Your thumbs run circles around one another, fingers locking until your knuckles hurt. “I don’t know,” you mumble, wishing for the tenth time since you sat down that Joel was beside you, in front of you, around you.

“’s what Anna seems to reckon.”

Your eyes flit up. “Anna?”

He hums. “She is her father’s daughter. A damn meddler. She called here, last night.”

“Oh, Jesus,” you groan, head falling into your hands. “Ignore her, please. Ignore all of it. She doesn’t –”

He holds a palm up. “Now, hold on. You don’t even know what it was she said.”

You huff a sigh, twisting your hand in the air. Go on.

“She reckons you do love him. Reckons he loves you back. More, if that’s even possible, she said. Told me all about the way he stepped in front a’ that boy at Frank’s. About your face when he picked you up from rodeo night, how ecstatic you were. The difference she sees in you.”

“Difference,” you scoff, glancing out to the backyard. “What difference?”

“Same difference I see, probably. Same difference Bill said he saw, too: you’re happier. Even I can’t deny it, hon. It’s damn hard – you never make nothin’ easy on your old man – but…but I am willing to try.”

The hurt begins to slowly fizzle away. Cooling, washing from your skin like foamy waves. Curiosity left to shine through.

“You may not understand this ‘til you have kids of your own – if you have kids of your own – but there ain’t a thing in this world that I love more than I love you. And when you love somethin’ that much, you’ll do anything to stop it from getting hurt. Anything. That’s all I want you to know.”

A silence falls between you, thoughtful and waiting. The clock’s ticking grows sharper again. It seems to consider the same as you: there should be more to this. More to be said, to be convinced. More yelling, even.

But you arrive at the same conclusion, at near enough the same time: there is nothing more. Cards flat on the table, eyes pouring all over them. To question it, to second-guess any of it, would be to tempt fate.

“Anyway,” your dad sits forward, clasping his hands on the table, “tell me what’s goin’ on. What’s been happening in your world?”

You shrug. A little, shy thing. “Work. Been hanging with Sarah a lot. And I, uh, I had a job interview last week.”

“Oh, yeah? Where?”

You shift awkwardly in your chair. “For, uh…that one in LA. They called to offer it a couple days ago.”

A smile pulls across his lips. Growing, growing, growing until he’s grinning back at you. Pride, little bit of surprise. Whole lot of amusement and joy. “You take it?” he asks, figuring he knows the answer already.

“Not yet,” you reply. “Think I’m going to, though. ‘s too good to say no.”

He lifts his eyebrows in agreement, looking down at his hands. Shoulders lurch some under the weight of your news. “There goes that little backpack,” he mutters to himself, and you smirk.

“Can’t hold her back forever.”

“I never had a hold on her in the first place. You were walkin’ on outta that door the minute you found your own two feet.”

You snort. “Good! Good for me. Let me go out into the big ol’ world; let me go fuck it all up ‘n come home for dinner once I’m done.”

“I intend to,” your dad says, nodding along to every passionate word you say. And then he asks, “How’s Joel feelin’ about it all? About LA?”

Your shoulder jerks in a half-shrug. “He’s fine, I guess. Says he’ll miss me, but then – we haven’t exactly had the most typical relationship up until now. Survived a lot I reckon would break any normal couple…”

It’s the first time you think you’ve ever said it. Couple. You’ve thought of it – flicked through the words you might use to describe him. Your boyfriend, your partner. None of them seem to fit exactly who he is to you. None of them strong enough to carry the weight of what’s shared between you. He’s Joel. He’s your Joel. Nothing will ever come close.

Your dad hears it, too. The newness of it. The crisp shape of the word, not yet thawed to this new world. Your tongue still learning how to pronounce it, how to pair it with the image of Joel.

“Guess he can fly out ‘n visit whenever, right?”

“Yeah,” you swallow, “and I’ll be back here, too. Christmas ‘n all.”

Your dad smiles. Relieved, assured. Light slowly returning to his eyes.

“We’ll be fine,” your chest swells, “so Joel says. I trust ‘im.”

You both quieten, sitting back in your chairs. What once felt like a room ablaze, flames tearing the skin from your body as you dragged your heels through it – now feels like a gentle warmth. Waves wrought with enough power and force to destroy you, now seeping off with the change of the tide. Bumps on the horizon.

“Speaking of,” you say, making to stand, “I should probably get goin’.”

“Yeah. Yeah, hon.” Your dad follows, arm on your shoulder as he walks you down the hall.

The sun intrudes, tosses herself into your arms as you pull the front door open. In her golden-rayed wake sits that dark truck, same as always. The same dark tee, the same dark-speckled-gray hair. Arms folded, stood against the body, waiting. Eyes on the house, on your figure as you step down onto the doormat. Joel straightens when your dad follows you out, chest sucking in a ragged breath.

They look at one another, and that’s about it. Something of a nod from Joel – not quite returned by your dad. You figure that might take some time to come back around. And that’s okay. You can make peace with it.

You turn back. Your dad’s looking down at you, hand over his eyes to shield them from the sun.

“You know,” you take a deep breath, “the only times he’s ever hurt me, are the times he’s left. The times I haven’t had him around.”

And then you step back, the magnet in your chest telling you it’s time to return to its partner.

In high school, your English teacher tasked the class with writing a short story. Any genre you wanted, any word count up to two thousand. The boys mostly dicked around, wrote action-packed, blood-and-guts garbage. One girl wrote something you’re sure you’d seen in a Hallmark movie before.

But you – you spent two weeks straight, writing. Awake until all hours of the night, hunched over your laptop, sunbathing in the blue hue of an open document. Fingers hammering rapidly into your keyboard.

A man and a woman meet in Central Park. She – hair the color of rust, spilling down her shoulders and lifting at the ends, twisting around the fingers of the blustery wind. A red glow around her third finger where gold once lived. Sat on a bench, alone. Hiding, perhaps. And he – sharp suit and tie, clean-shaven, a steel-blue gaze that might cut glass. Missing the city traffic by taking a walk through the park on his way home. Fleeing, perhaps.

He notices her trench coat first. Bright red, a poppy swaying in the breeze. A little hopeless, a solemn wilt to it. The quickly dampening fire of her hair in the rain, the opaque sheen of polish chipping from her nails. And he thinks he recognizes the constellation of freckles painted across her cheeks. Thinks he might’ve mapped them, once, in some kind of past-life.

She looks up and realizes she recognizes the cut of his gaze. Piercing through her, splitting her in two. Thinks she might’ve felt it before, the opening of her soul to someone who looked just like him – a little more baby-faced, a little more spirited. In some kind of past-life, too.

She stands, and he slows, and they meet somewhere in the middle. Words exchanged; body heat transferred through hugs. Is that really you? You look so different. It’s been years. He doesn’t ask about the lack of jewelry on her third finger. She doesn’t ask about the gray circles beneath his eyes. Just, You wanna grab a coffee? and, Yeah. Yeah, I do.

They sit at the window, watch the yellow taxis and the black umbrellas and the trembling traffic lights. They talk about life then, life now, and silently agree to forget about the part in the middle. They look at each other the same way they must have before they lost one another, before life and love and everything else got between them.

They agree to meet again in a week. They swear that they will not fall back in love.

They know as well as each other that they’re really promising to do just that.

Love – twisted and turned over and over, until it’s a different shape altogether. We started as one thing, and we watched it shift into something completely different. Clay in the potter’s hands. Didn’t you think it might fall apart? There was a moment I thought the heat of the kiln might break us. I’m glad it didn’t. I’m glad we’re made of tough stuff.

I’m glad I found you again, in that park. The pissing rain and the wind so strong I felt it lifting the sense from my mind. In that hardware store, in that bar filled with weed and bad intentions. I’m glad you split me open, glad you could see the good that was still inside. I thought I’d lost her for a minute. Thought she’d forgotten her way home.

Let’s go get a coffee. Let’s pretend it’s always been this way.

Let’s fall in love. The rest will take care of itself.

It takes three weeks in total to properly pack up your things. Two days after you accepted the job, you bought boxes and tape, and began to dismantle the identity you’d spent twenty-three years creating for yourself, a little bit at a time. Taking apart the pink-walled museum of your life, artefact by artefact.

Joel has helped as much as you’ve let him. Laid back on your bed when you’ve dismissed him one too many times, raised his eyebrows and laughed with you whenever you come across some old, forgotten piece of memorabilia. Something ceremonial to it, something innocent and fun. Like a little graduation for all the parts of yourself.

Soon, as the last of the summer sun dampens outside, your room lies vacant. Empty of any real evidence of your being here. Bedsheets and pillows folded, packed away; framed photos and posters unpinned from the wall and wrapped up safely. Drawers and closets barren, left with a selection of your less-loved, less-worn clothes. A wardrobe built from stuff you’ll only ever wear when you come back home to visit, if even then.

Joel’s sat on the bare mattress, looking around your room. You’re stood opposite, leaning against your half-empty dresser. The sun filters feebly through your turned shades, averting her eyes.

You look over at him. Golden, like the sunlight outside. Warm, like the breeze through the trees. Yours. Yours yours yours.

“What?” Joel asks, his eyes having finally found their way back to you. He smiles at your focused expression.

“Nothing. I don’t know. Just…”

“Talk to me. Tell me.”

“You are – this is…” You sigh. “This is good. I think it’s good. Not just all the stuff we did. But you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you tell him. “You’re good for me.” You grip the wooden lip tighter, swaying nervously when you add, “But I think it was always gonna go this way, wasn’t it?”

He sniffs. Shoulders jerk in a weak shrug. “Yeah, I think so, baby.”

Your eyelashes flutter, soothing the prickling feeling of tears forming. “I don’t – I don’t know if I want it to.”

“Yeah,” Joel says through a groan, pushing himself up, “you do.”

You shake your head as he approaches, and his hands cup your cheeks.

“Hey,” he whispers, pulling your body tight against his. Your face buries in his chest; your tears wet on his shirt. He shushes you, rocks you gently back and forth with a hand on the back of your head. “Listen to me.”

“Joel –”

“Listen to me.” He pulls you back, swipes the tears from your cheeks as quickly as they fall. “We’re fine. We are going to be fine.”

“I don’t want to leave you –”

“I know, I know. But you want to go do this. And that’s okay. Both of ‘em, at once.”

Your head shakes again. Like an instinctive reaction to the thought of being separated from him.

Joel smiles softly. “I am going to miss you like hell. You got no idea. But,” he pulls your head back to face his, tucks your hair behind your ear, “I want you to go. You gotta go after this. Right?”

“I know,” you whisper, lungs lurching for breath. “I just – wish it didn’t mean leavin’ you.”

“Darlin’…” Joel coos, pulling you in again. “You know how much I love you? What do I keep tellin’ you? We’ll be alright. It’s you ‘n me, right?”

You nod, salty tears slipping between your lips onto your tongue. When you look up, you notice the same expression on Joel’s face. He blinks his own away before they fall.

“’s you ‘n me,” you repeat, and he pulls your lips together.

You roll your tongue onto his, letting him taste you – all of you. Your mouth, and your thoughts, and your tears, and your pain. You let him take it all, let him hold it for this moment as you breathe him in, let his body fill yours in every way.

Your hands are in his hair, your chest pressed against his; he’s every thought on your mind and every beat in your heart. He’s the blood thrumming through your veins, he’s the oxygen filling your lungs; he’s the words between your teeth and the flesh around your bones.

And he pulls you, and you follow, his shirt in your fist, over to the bed where he lays you gently and falls on top.

“When’s he get back?” he asks, taking your bottom lip between his teeth.

“Later,” you mumble, your fingers picking at the hem of his shirt.

He pushes back, letting you tug it up up up over his shoulders at the same rate he peels your tee from yours, both tossing each other’s clothes to somewhere else in the room. Jeans undone, shorts dragged from your hips, underwear discarded until you’re naked under him, and he’s naked over you, and there’s nothing and no one between.

Joel cradles you, holds you close as he presses a palm roughly against the underside of your thigh, opening your body to him in a way only he’s mastered. In a way you only would, for him.

His hand cups your sex, fingers nudging between your folds, pushing in when your jaw slackens and a wanton moan echoes from your throat across Joel’s tongue.

“Yeah,” he coos, wrist jacking between your legs, “’s my girl. Gotta get you warmed up, huh? Get you nice ‘n wet.”

Your back arches, arms linking around his neck to pull him closer, pull him deeper. Hold him tight enough to you that your bodies feel one, feel connected at the meeting of Joel’s hand and the most intimate part of you; the meeting of your tongues between teeth.

And you gasp, the nudging of his fingers against the deepest part of your body, the messy circles of his thumb on your clit. The shape of him, solid and warm against the seam of your thigh.

You reach down for him, wrapping your fingers around his cock, and his breath hitches. Teeth bump into yours. You’re fucking irresistible to him.

“Darlin’,” his voice is low, daring you to keep going, “you wanna cut this short ‘fore we’re even started?”

You breathe a laugh into his jaw, hot and needy. “You get to play with me,” you whine, “I wanna play with you, too.”

Joel growls, seizing his movements, leaning back in what you take as him granting full access to his body. But then he says, “Turn around,” in a strict voice you’ve come to know as meaning one thing, and you pause.

You peel your eyes from his dick to blink up at him. “Turn –?”

“– around, now.” He takes your waist, hoisting you up until you’re straddling him, holding you inches above his body. “Turn.”

“What the fuck are you –?”

“Many times do I gotta tell you? You said you wanted to play.” He twists your waist until you follow his movements, swinging one leg over the other. He grabs your hips, tugging you back towards his face. “So, play,” he mutters, lowering your cunt down to his lips.

You gasp, falling forward and hitting the mattress between his legs. “J– fuck me. Are you s-serious?” You moan, hips rocking against the feeling of his bearded chin at your clit. “You’re like – a fucking – horny teenager. Oh, fuck.”

Your head falls forward, hands splaying out over his thighs, before your eyes refocus and you notice the hardened shape of him, tip oozing precome all over the hair-spattered plain of his groin. Your hand lifts, shakily taking hold of him again, and you lean down.

Elbows hooked over his thighs, you bring his tip to your lips, letting a thick bead of saliva fall and drip down the length of him, meeting your closed fist to be dragged up and down.

Joel’s hips almost buck. He holds it, manages to catch it, but you spot it. You’ve done this too many fucking times not to notice the reaction you draw from him.

“’s good,” you whisper, circling your hips on his face, tongue slipping across his cherry-red tip. “Feels so good.”

He responds in the form of a deep groan, rattling from his chest through your clit, shocking like lightning up your spine until the very same noise is thrown from your lips. You push down, tongue molding around every vein and the slow curve of his cock until your lips meet the thick brush of hair at his base, his tip kissing the very back of your throat.

Your throat which jumps, jolts at the feeling of something intruding – before you’re retreating again, pulling him from your body, warm, wet spit linking the two of you when you come up for air. And then you sink back down, head moving up down up down up down as his stomach tenses beneath your chest.

Joel’s palms keep a heavy hold on your ass, his tongue lapping between your folds like they’re the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted – like he might die if he doesn’t get his fix of you. And you think, they are, and he might, as your cheeks hollow and you bow down over him again.

You establish a rhythm, two waves swirling between one another: your hips rocking, Joel’s lifting ever so slightly as you suckle on one another. Your hand fisting the parts of him you can’t quite reach, not without choking; Joel holding you fixed to his jaw, letting the tip of his tongue hook around your swollen clit, then dragging it down until he’s letting you ride the wet muscle.

The approach of your first orgasm, a tiny spark catching to life in the pit of your belly, incites you with a need to open up further for him. Your throat taking more of him, your thighs slackening as you drive your cunt harder against his mouth.

“’m so close,” you whimper, lips curving around his cock. “So – fucking – ah, keep doin’ that. Right th-there.”

His hands hook around your thighs, tongue darting across your clit. His nose nudges somewhere between your folds, quickly becoming coated in the slick you’re leaking all over him.

“Joel,” you say, fists pumping his cock. Your voice a warning: it’s coming. You’re gonna – Fuck, you’re gonna come.

His voice is looser, more of a shrug of the shoulders when he pulls away from you. He inserts two fingers, curls them like before, like he knows drives you fucking insane. “Let go, babygirl,” he murmurs, lips immediately returning to position. And then, muffled and rough: “Come all over me.”

“Fuckfuckfuck,” you pant, hands squeezing around his cock, feeling that same spark ignite into flame, your entire body bursting with heat.

Your high rips through you, battering through each vein in your system, each nerve electrified. You collapse between his legs, his rough pubic hair sticking to the sweat on your chest, hips rutting wildly against the sharp cut of his jaw.

The mattress absorbs most of the desperate moan which streaks across your tongue, nails digging hard into the flesh of Joel’s thighs. And you hear the deep sound of his voice, the thud thud thud of a chuckle against your clit: the cocky fucker laughing to himself as he unravels you for what feels like the thousandth time.

“Alright,” Joel says, more to himself than to the fucked-out shape of you between his legs. He sits up and shifts you carefully down the bed, settling you face-down on the mattress and lifting your ass to meet his hips. “Okay?” he asks, kneeling behind you.

You feel his tip between your legs, slotting happily somewhere in your opening. Waiting for your response. A response you don’t feel able to give, as much as you’d like to; your lips puffy and confused, words jumbling behind them in a tangle of bliss and love.

“Baby,” Joel says, hand slinking down your back, pressing gentle circles into the nape of your neck. “You okay?”

Your head lifts, glancing over your shoulder to see his hairy torso, his thick arms caging over you. He lifts your chin with two fingers, cranes your neck up until you’re looking into his eyes, heavy lids blinking dumbly.

“Just fuck me,” you whisper, and Joel slips his tongue into your mouth.

You used to dream of coming back home. A few years away, doing whatever you wanted, wherever you wanted. Dreaming things up and then chasing them until they happened. Tiring yourself out, lungs gasping for breath and eyes always searching, always looking for a new target to pin up. But always coming back.

Austin, Texas. Its jagged skyline, the streets lined with a vibrant glow and star-spangled bunting. The river like a silver-bellied snake slithering through. Home.

You dreamt of living out your days here, once your blood had slowed and your mind settled. A quiet life in the country, a big wooden house with a wraparound porch. Two little rocking chairs, so you and whoever your husband turned out to be could sit and watch the sky fade from red into orange into white and then dull gray into deep blue.

Breeze kissing your cheek, his lips kissing your knuckles.

Joel.

Home.

You tell him, and he smirks. “That so?” he asks, wrapping his arms a little tighter around your naked body.

You nuzzle your cheek into the palm of his hand, breathing in the sweet scent of sweat and sex sitting in the air. “Mhm. You could play guitar until the stars come out.”

He hums in agreement. “Sounds like a pretty good dream. Tell you what: you go to LA, do what you gotta do. By the time you come back, there’ll be a big ol’ farmhouse, wraparound porch, rollin’ fields for the dogs. Coffee ‘n sunsets. How’s that sound?”

“And you’ll be there?”

He smiles. Scoops you in one arm and rolls you onto your front, chest to chest with him. His fingers ghost down the curve of your shoulder. “Baby,” he whispers, “I built the damn thing.”

It forces a laugh from your chest, something you’ve gotten used to by now. Joel and his ability to steal a giggle from you, the dumbest moments seeming the funniest. “You’re gonna build me a damn house?” you ask, chin resting between his pecs.

“That what you want?”

Your head rocks left to right, considering. “I just want you. That’s all.”

“Then you got me. I’m all yours.”

In his hazel eyes lives every moment you’ve ever shared. Every conversation, every kiss, every fight. Every minute he’s spent looking for you or at you, every minute you’ve spent looking back at him. It’s all in there. You see it like a movie reel, frame by frame.

It lands like a slot machine on that first night. Cleaning up after pizza. Shoulder to shoulder by your kitchen sink. You wish you’d just kissed him. Even with your dad right there. Wish you’d lifted your heels and put your lips on his, just for the fucking hell of it. Just to condense all of it, every second of longing and hurt and pain into one fleeting moment.

Wish you’d pulled him into you, against you, the weight of his body like an old friend. Welcomed it with open arms, like you’d spent your entire life missing it, waiting for it to come back to you. Let yourself feel your own heart, peeling between the cage of your ribs, reaching out for his. Always reaching for him.

Wish you’d looked him in the eye, tears softening the tufts of graying hair, vignetting the smirk only you can tell is there. Looked at him in that knowing way, that language only you two know; the glint in your eyes translating a thousand messy words into three. Just three – the simplest, lightest words you’ve ever known.

I love you. Let’s skip to the good part.

#welp i didn't cry when i hit post. me? no. no way #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #the last of us #tlou #tlou fic #dbf!joel miller #dbf!joel #joel miller smut #cowboy like me

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lionlena · 8 months

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Unforgivable mistake (JoelMillerxreader) Part 10

Summary: Reader is much younger than Joel and is in love with him. One night, after arguing with Tess and getting drunk, Joel spends the night with a reader, but in the morning he breaks her heart… She runs away from Boston hoping that she will never meet this cold bastard again in her life. But almost six years later, she unexpectedly sees Joel in Jackson. She decides to hide herself and her little secret from this asshole.

Warnings: age gap (reader is about 28 years, Joel 58), strong language, swearing, past trauma, bullying, attempted rape, memories of sexual abuse, unprotect p in v, dom!Joel, Joel is asshole, ANGST, hurt, sadness and heartbreaking, sexual harassment, women abuse, violence, injury, sickness.

I'm sorry you had to wait for this new chapter for so long. I hope I will write 11 much faster ;)

Part 10

You spent a few more days with Anna and Toby, helping them and making sure they would be ready for winter.

You were surprised at how well you all were doing. You fell into a nice rhythm. You got up first and made breakfast for everyone with Anna's help. Ellie also helped you sometimes. Teddy would get up and go straight to Joel. He often spent a few more minutes napping with his dad. Then Joel came to the kitchen with his son. Meanwhile, Toby also showed up. You ate breakfast and together planned the work that needed to be done. Once you were ready to go to work, Teddy was left in the care of Ellie and Toby.

You were positively surprised by how you all worked together. No arguments or misunderstandings. You worked together like a family.

In the evening you came back for dinner and you all spent time together playing games and having fun. If you weren't very tired, you went for a short walk with Joel.

You noticed that he was trying to give you space, but he still couldn't stop himself from hugging you and kissing your cheek, but you didn't mind.

The day always ended the same. You fell asleep in Joel's arms wearing his T-shirt and woke up in the morning.

But last night you couldn't sleep. You lay next to Joel, who was snoring lightly, and you thought about how surreal this moment was.

It's as if everything Joel did in Boston happened to someone else.

Sometimes you imagined things would have turned out differently. Joel approached you at the bar and asked if he could walk you home. Of course, you agreed. On the stairs, Joel tripped and you held him. He kissed you… Passionately and gently. Then he took you to his apartment and made love to you… No, he didn't fuck you… He was gentle and caring, and after it was all over, you fell asleep together in each other's arms. But in the morning Joel sobered up and realized that he had made a mistake. He apologized to you and told you that he wouldn't leave Tess, that you were just a child to him and he shouldn't take advantage of your naivety. Of course, that would break your heart too, you would scream and cry, but then you would calm down. The next day you would set out with Claudia into the unknown and... What would happen then? Did you fall in love with someone else?

You sighed heavily and rolled over. After a while, you felt a gentle kiss on the back of your neck and heard his hoarse, sleepy voice.

"Is something wrong, darling? Can't you sleep?"

You were silent for a moment, not sure if you should share your thoughts with him. You knew that was what a good relationship was all about, but… You also knew that Joel felt really bad about himself. He wanted to forget about how he treated you. But the problem was that it was impossible to forget. This had to be worked through.

“I think,” you finally said. "Would... Would we be here now, together, if our first time had been different? Or maybe I would have already had someone... A boyfriend, a husband... I don't know, these are stupid thoughts..."

You could feel how Joel was tense. Like you caused him physical pain, but he still wanted to be supportive of you.

"Hey, hey baby, it's not stupid… I…" His voice became almost a whisper. "Sometimes I think what would have happened if you had stayed in Boston... I don't know if it would have been better... I'm actually happy that Teddy was born here. He wouldn't have had such a happy childhood in Boston."

You nodded because you knew he was right. You wouldn't want to raise Teddy in this dirty and violent place.

You felt Joel hug you tighter and press his face into your back. You didn't want him to be so sad. You gently stroked his hand that rested on your stomach.

"Joel?"

"Hmm?"

"What happened... It had to happen... for us to be where we are now and... We just have to live with it and move on."

Joel placed a gentle kiss on the back of your neck again.

"I don't deserve you. You're too good, too sweet, too caring... You're perfect."

You smiled softly.

"You may not deserve it, but it's what you get. Deal with it."

After a while, you added:

"There's something else."

"What?"

What you were going to say was a distortion of reality, but you felt the need to say it.

"If Teddy ever asks about our beginnings, we will lie to him. Do you understand? I'm not doing it just for you, but mainly for him. I want him to know that he was created because his mom and dad loved each other... Then we argued over something stupid and we broke up before we discovered I was pregnant. But we wanted to have children, we loved each other..."

Joel murmurs softly into your neck:

"Thank you."

You couldn't see his face, but if you turned around you would see tears in his eyes.

The next day you said goodbye to Anna and Toby and promised them you would come back soon. Even Ellie seemed sad to leave them.

When you entered the gates of Jackson, it was already evening and you were all tired. You hoped that you would put your baby son to bed quickly and rest, but... Tired Teddy was sometimes cranky. You helped him get to the ground and he immediately was clinging to Joel, whining and looking at daddy with pleading eyes. Joel picked him up and rubbed his back soothingly.

"What's the matter 'bear cub'?"

"I want you to sing me at bedtime." The baby boy whined.

Joel laughed lightly and ruffled Teddy's hair.

"Of course."

You just rolled your eyes, already knowing what was coming. And you were right. It didn't end with one song. Teddy also wanted you to tell him a story and hug him. Then he wanted his dad to bring him something to drink and hug him. Then he wanted both of you... Then again only dad. And he said all this while looking at you with those sweet but tired brown eyes of his, so neither of you could even get angry at him.

Joel sat down next to you on the couch with a huff after singing a song to his son for the fourth time.

"He fell asleep..."

You giggled slightly.

"Well, apparently he inherited my fondness for your voice."

Joel smiled to himself. He couldn't deny that your words brought a pleasant warm feeling to his chest.

"I think that's not the only thing he inherited from you. He's sweet, but sometimes he's…"

Joel looked at you and you frowned. Feigning indignation you said:

"You mean he's stubborn like me."

Joel looked at you, flustered, and scratched the back of his neck.

"No... that's not what I meant...what I meant was that he's relentless."

You laughed and gave him an amused look.

"Relax. I'm just joking."

Joel sighed and leaned further into the couch. He closed his eyes.

"I'm tired."

You nodded.

"Me too. I'll fall asleep as soon as I put my head on the pillow."

With a groan, Joel stood up and leaned down to give you a kiss on the cheek.

"Good night. See you tomorrow."

You closed your eyes and whispered.

"Good night."

However, some time later you discovered how wrong you were. You were tired, and yet you were rolling over on the mattress for an hour. You couldn't find a comfortable position on the bed and it was ridiculous. The bed at Anna and Toby's house was uncomfortable, and yet you slept perfectly well... Did you really get used to Joel's presence that quickly?

You groaned in frustration and got out of bed. You remembered Joel's warmth and scent, his solid chest...

“Ugh…Y/N, pull yourself together.”

You decided to go to the kitchen and get something to drink. You poured yourself some water and leaned against the kitchen counter. You felt that your drowsiness had completely left you. You were still extremely tired and wondering what you could do when you heard a soft knock. At first, you froze. A shiver of fear ran through your body. Who could be knocking on your door so late? You carefully looked out the window and immediately took a breath. Even in the dim light, you would recognize who this silhouette belongs to. You opened the door with a slight smile.

"Joel, what happened?"

You were sure he had gone to bed long ago. You stepped aside to let him in and you noticed that he looked tired.

"I wanted to ask the same thing, I noticed you had the light on in the bedroom and the kitchen and... I wanted to check if everything was okay with you, and Teddy."

You nodded and looked at him gratefully. It was nice to feel that someone cared about you and your son. You led him to the kitchen, where you sat down across from each other.

"Teddy's sleeping... I can't sleep..."

And then suddenly something hit you. Joel wouldn't be able to see your bedroom window and kitchen from his house, which meant...

"Joel? What were you doing exactly? Wandering around? I thought you were already asleep."

Joel shrugged and rubbed his face.

"I can't sleep," he muttered quietly.

You raised your eyebrows and huffed in amusement.

"You? You never have trouble falling asleep."

He looked at you as if you had offended him. "I don't fall asleep on watch." Then, a little shyly, he replied: "The bed seems too big to me."

You felt your heart beat faster, understanding what he meant, but you decided to tease him some more.

"Have you tried falling asleep on the couch?"

Joel gasped in surprise. "I... Umm... Maybe I really should."

You started laughing and stood up from your seat. You walked up to him and stood in between his legs, resting your hands on his shoulders and looking down at him.

"I think I slept better with you next to me."

Joel sighed in relief and gently placed his hands on your hips. "Me too, honey... Do you think... Do you think we can sleep in the same bed tonight?"

You bit your lip and smiled. You had another idea.

"It does not make sense."

Joel looked at you with sadness, even fear. He started to wonder what he had done wrong and was about to remove his hands from your body when you said:

"Living next to each other, instead of together." Joel's eyes lit up. "I think I'm ready... The last week we spent together showed me that this would be the best and easiest thing. Let's be honest, Joel... We won't be able to sleep tomorrow either... And the day after tomorrow."

Joel very carefully began to stroke your sides. "Do I understand this correctly? Will you and Teddy live with me and Ellie?"

You smiled and replied, "Yes."

Joel pulled you closer to him and hugged you tightly. You started stroking his hair and slowly felt sleepiness coming back to you. You were about to ask him to go to the bedroom with you when you heard his hesitant question.

"Y/N, what are we exactly? Don't get me wrong, I don't want to force you to define our relationship... I just don't know. Are we boyfriend and girlfriend?"

You giggled at his expression. Joel wasn't the best at these kinds of conversations, but he sure was sweet.

"I don't know." You answered honestly. "We are the parents of a wonderful baby boy, that's for sure. We've become friends, despite our complicated past... And I guess we're partners... You know, I mean... Friends don't do that..."

You leaned up and lightly kissed him on the lips and he grunted in pleasure. His hand ran through your hair. When you pulled away from him, you both sighed in contentment. You rested your forehead against his and sighed. His large hands caressed your sides and back. You felt the heat coming from his body and for you, it was like sleeping pills. You moved away from him a bit and muttered:

"I don't know how to define exactly what's going on between us. But does it matter? We'll figure it out later but for now... Let's go to sleep."

Joel eagerly followed you to the bedroom. He stripped down to his boxers and t-shirt. As you lay down next to him, a wave of peace immediately washed over you. All he had to do was wrap his arms around you and you immediately began to drift off to sleep. Before you fell asleep completely, you felt Joel kiss your head tenderly.

A few days later, you officially moved in with Joel and Ellie. You were sure of your decision. You really felt like it was the right thing to do. Not only did it make taking care of Teddy easier, but it also made your relationship with Joel stronger and took it to a new level. Not to mention that your son went crazy with joy. You've never seen him pack his things so quickly. And he didn't even complain. With a broad smile on his face, he moved his things to the new house and new room. Seeing his happy face filled you with joy and peace.

You thought that nothing could disturb your peace. But you were wrong.

You were feeding the horses when Ellie ran into the stable.

“Y/N!”

You looked carefully at the teenage girl. She looked nervous and you immediately stopped what you were doing.

"Something happened?"

Ellie took a deep breath as if trying to steady her nerves.

"Well... Did you hear that new people have arrived?"

You nodded and wondered why that would be a reason to be nervous. You thought it was good that the community was growing. You calmly replied:

"Yes, Sofia has already told me everything. Two older women, one younger with a little daughter, and two teenage boys. Is that right?"

Ellie still didn't look calm.

"Yes and umm... This young woman..."

"What about her?"

Ellie opened her mouth, closed it, opened it again, and took a deep breath.

"She's fine, she's just..."

“Y/N!”

You both looked at Maria as she entered the stable. You smiled slightly when you saw her pregnant belly. You still had a tense relationship from the moment you stood up for Joel, but you still wished her the best.

Maria gave you and Ellie a weak smile and immediately decided to get to the point.

"Is your old house available now?"

Her question surprised you. The truth was that you left a few things behind because... Despite the feelings you felt for Joel and the certainty that you had made the right decision, you wanted an emergency exit. You felt you had the right to do so after everything you had been through.

"Uh... Actually... I left some summer clothes there and... A few other things."

Maria raised her eyebrows. "I thought your move to Joel's was permanent."

You felt an unpleasant pang in your chest. "Because it is." You said quickly and maybe a little too loudly. "I just didn't have time to move everything, so I decided some things could stay there for now."

"I understand, but I would like you to take everything away. Your old house will become a new home for our new resident, her daughter, and her elderly mother."

You felt like you were out of breath. You were sure that you would have a happy future with Joel, but... The uncertainty was still inside you and it was hard for you to come to terms with losing your safe oasis that was your home so quickly. But you knew there was no point in arguing about it. You tried to look casual as you said,

"Oh... Yeah, sure. I'll do it soon."

Ellie looked at you sympathetically and quickly added, "I'll help you."

Maria nodded. "Okay. I'll come with them soon."

Before you left the stables, Ellie grabbed your arm.

"Maybe let's talk to Joel so he can talk to Tommy. It's not fair that Maria is taking your house. There are several other empty houses in the city. She's doing it maliciously."

You sighed heavily and shook your head. "No, Ellie... I don't want Joel to know that I wanted an escape route. He's trying so hard to make things better between us. I don't want him to think that I doubt him... That I assume that it won't work out. Maybe it's for the best."

Ellie nodded and you both started walking towards your old house. You saw that the teenage girl was thinking about something. She obviously wanted to tell you something, but she didn't know how. But you didn't have time to ask her about it. You focused on getting all your things as quickly as possible.

With Ellie's help, it went really smoothly. You were just taking the last box outside when you noticed Maria with three new Jackson residents in front of the house. You almost dropped the box and looked at Ellie. You realized that was what she was trying to tell you.

The young woman who stood next to Maria looked like a younger version of Tess. You felt a knot in your stomach and swallowed hard. You wanted to scream at the universe and ask why it hated you. Then you woke up. Just because she looked like Tess, didn't mean Joel would abandon you. But still, you couldn't help but feel uneasy that a woman who looked like your partner's former lover would be living next door. You heard Ellie lightly clear her throat as she tried to bring you back to reality.

"Oh, hello... The house is empty now."

Maria nodded. "That's great. I present to you Emily, her mother Lucia, and her daughter Rose."

The little girl waved at you shyly and you tried to smile. She was a similar age to Teddy, so Joel... You mentally cursed yourself for your ridiculous thoughts. Joel was in love with you and Teddy was his world. He wouldn't abandon you just because some woman looked like Tess and had a daughter.

“I'm Y/N, this is Ellie…” You felt your voice shake slightly. "We live next door with my son Teddy and... My... My partner Joel."

You tried to make the word "partner" sound as loud as possible. Ellie looked at you with her eyebrows slightly raised. Well, you will be going to explain to her what "marking territory" means when she is older.

"How old is your son?" Emily asked.

"He'll be seven soon."

"Oh, that's wonderful. Rose turned six a month ago... I hope that once we get settled and rest, we'll get to know each other better."

You stuck a fake smile on your face.

"That would be great, now... Let's go now. We still have a few things to do, right Ellie?"

The girl nodded nervously. "Yeah, sure... We have to make dinner for Joel..."

"That's right. See you later."

As soon as you entered the house, you threw the box in the corner and immediately stood by the window in the living room, where you could see your 'old' house.

"Is this what you wanted to tell me?" you asked, quickly glancing at Ellie.

The girl nodded and carefully approached you.

"She is not that similar... On closer view, she is actually completely different."

You smiled slightly at her attempts at comfort and looked out the window again.

"She's very similar" you muttered sadly.

Ellie immediately tried to distract you from your bad thoughts.

"Hey, let's go to the kitchen... I'm hungry and... Standing by the window won't change anything."

You nodded and moved towards her. Ellie was right. Standing by the window and staring at Tess's doppelgänger didn't change anything. But there was something else you needed to know.

"Ellie, has Joel seen her yet?"

The teenage girl shrugged.

"I do not know, probably no."

"Okay. Let's go get something to eat."

For the rest of the day, you tried to keep your mind occupied. But no matter what you did, you always glanced towards your former home.

When Joel returned, you began to watch him carefully and waited for the right moment to talk. He acted very normal. He gave you a kiss on the cheek to greet you, he played with Teddy and, unlike you, he didn't constantly glance towards the window. You started to wonder if he had seen Emily. If not, maybe you can somehow maintain this state longer. Then you rolled your eyes... That was a ridiculous idea. How would you implement this plan? You would lock Joel in the house, or maybe you would cover his eyes? Tess's doppelgänger literally lived on your doorstep.

"Darling?"

His deep voice brought you out of your thoughts. You were sitting on the couch and looking out the window.

"Huh?"

Joel sat down next to you and gently placed his hand on your knee. He looked at you worriedly.

"This is about your house? Right."

You blinked your eyes in shock. Well, Joel may not have gotten to the heart of the problem, but he was close.

"I... It's not..."

Joel gave you a reassuring smile.

“It's okay that you wanted to still have a safe place. I don't blame you for that and…” He gently lifted your chin so you were looking straight into his eyes. "I want you to be aware that if things don't work out between us, I will move out. You don't have to worry about not having a home."

You felt a surge of gratitude. It was surprising how well Joel already knew you. But not being able to return to your previous home wasn't the only problem. You had to bring this up. There was no point in running away from it anyway.

"Have you seen our new neighbor?" you asked quietly and he nodded. “She reminds me of Tess,” you said even more quietly and swallowed.

You watched Joel's face carefully for any signs of nervousness, but he still looked at you calmly. Not a muscle in his face even twitched at the mention of Tess.

"I don't know... Maybe a little. Does it matter?"

You gave him a look like, "Seriously?"

"You were in a relationship with Tess."

Joel looked at you surprised. He was still trying to figure out what this had to do with your new neighbor.

"Yes, I was in a relationship with Tess and it was... A specific relationship. We were comfortable together. You know? Tess was a convenient option for me in Boston. We worked and slept together." Joel grabbed your hands. "But I don't know if that relationship would last here. I think I would probably be too interested in you and would like to spend time with Teddy."

You could hear the genuine sincerity in his voice and it calmed your nerves a bit.

"Okay. I guess I got a little carried away with anxiety and the ridiculous idea that you and Emily... It's stupid."

Joel pulled you to him and kissed your forehead.

"Wait... What were you afraid of? That I would abandon you as soon as I saw someone like Tess." Joel couldn't hide the slight amusement in his voice. "Honey, she's just a woman of similar looks like Tess... I don't know her. And her looks don't matter because I only have my eyes on one woman."

He gently brushed his lips against yours.

"Only you."

You sighed and relaxed in his arms. For a moment you forgot about your anxiety. Joel wrapped his arms around you and hugged you tighter. You rested your head on his chest and tried to focus on his heartbeat, but deep inside you still felt this unexplainable fear. You felt the shadows of your past return and you were afraid they would consume you.

Part 9

Part 11

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#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #joel miller #the last of us #joel miller fanfiction #joel x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #angst #hurt comfort #unforgivable mistake

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justagalwhowrites · 10 months

Note

Prompt 91 babyyyyy

OMG Hi Bestie

Thank you so much for sending in this suggestion! I LOVED this prompt and @1soff also shared it.

This is starring Joel and a new FMC who you'll likely be meeting soon (probably this fall?) who Joel calls Goldie. This is going to be a no-outbreak modern AU Joel romantic dramady fic. They were best friends in high school but had a falling out at the end of their senior year and went their separate ways until Goldie moves back to Austin when they're in their early 30s. This scene isn't going to be canon for their story BUT you'll at least get a taste for Joel and Goldie!

Thank you for being here! I hope you like Joel and Goldie! Love you so much!

Pick Me

You and your high school best friend, Joel Miller, reconnect after years apart.

Based on Prompt 91: “Don’t go on that date.” “Why?” “You know why.” “Say it.”

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader (nicknamed Goldie)

Warnings: None :) No use of Y/N.

Length: 1.8K

“You’re not going to make me like this damn town,” you said, taking a drink off the flask and passing it back to Joel. Your legs were dangling over the rock toward the river below, the stars bright overhead. “Doesn’t matter how many times we try to act like teenagers breaking into the state park, it’s not going to work.”

“I’ll wear ya down,” he said, taking a drink himself. “If you’re stuck here, may as well try to enjoy it.”

You sighed, looking out at the Austin skyline as Joel handed the flask back to you. You took another drink.

This stupid fucking city held what seemed like everything bad that had ever happened to you. Your father, how your mother died, Anna’s descent into addiction that you knew was at least partially your fault.

But it also had Joel.

The one, incredibly determined bright spot that had been here even as you tried as hard as you could to run from it. Liking Austin was dangerous. Liking JOEL was dangerous.

“How’s the school treatin’ ya?” He asked after a minute.

“Pretty good, actually,” you nodded. “Better than Ohio did when I started there.”

“Fuckin’ Ohio,” Joel said, glancing at you with a sly smile on his lips. You snorted. He held out his hand. “You’re bogarting the booze, Goldie.”

“What, you think it’s yours or something?” You teased, handing the flask back.

“Unless your last name is suddenly Miller,” he teased back, tapping the engraved side of it. He took a swig. “But they got you teachin’… fuck, whatever the interesting shit is English professors get to teach?”

You laughed a little.

“Yeah,” you said. “I have 18th century British Literature which is a good one for me, anyway. Literature for writers is another one I’m liking so far. Plus some workshops. It’s mostly upperclassmen so they’re all kids who are there because they care about the subject, not just to fulfill some requirements to graduate.

“I think the school is sucking up to me a bit, though,” you said. “I picked a good time to have my life completely implode and need to job hunt. I had some good name recognition from my book. They want to try to keep me around so they’re letting me teach the cool shit instead of needing to work my way up.”

He nodded slowly and handed you the flask back. You ran your thumb over the engraving, watching his name catch the light of the moon. You took another drink.

“You’re still too smart to be hangin’ out with me,” he smiled a little. “Not arguin’, just pointin’ out some truths for you.”

“You’re still too cool to be hanging out with me,” you smiled back. “Think we’re even.”

“I was never that cool,” he replied.

“Oh I know,” you laughed. “I was just a huge fucking loser.”

He laughed at that. You handed him the flask.

Joel was sitting close to you, so close that your leg sometimes brushed his when it swung out over the water below. His hand brushed yours as he leaned back on the rock, his fingertips slipping into the gaps between your own. You took your hand back and lay down on the stone, looking up at the sky overhead.

The whiskey had set in, a pleasant buzz running over you as you watched the lights from distant planes flying overhead. You wondered idly where they were going, if the people aboard were excited for vacation or traveling for business or on their way to a funeral. You always wanted to know things like that. It was your curse, that’s what your mother had called it. That you had all these questions about how the people around you moved through the world, like you wanted to crawl inside their skin and live as them for a day, just to see what it was like to occupy the same space as another person, have their heartbeat, feel the creases in their flesh as it existed to them.

“You ever wonder what would have happened if you’d stayed here after high school?” Joel asked. You looked over at him. He took another drink. “Gone to UT and shit instead of runnin’ off to Columbia?”

“All the time,” you replied. “But I think about a lot of different versions of myself. In some alternate universe there’s a me who went to Iowa for undergrad and never met fucking Brad…”

“Fuckin’ Brad,” Joel echoed. You looked up at him and caught a glimpse of his smile.

“There’s another one who moved to London and never went to college,” you said. “She’s just waiting tables and writing shitty poems in an apartment she shares with three other people. But she’s pretty happy there, so good on her I guess.”

Joel paused before looking down at you.

“The version who stayed?” He asked.

You sighed.

“I’m really not sure,” you said. “I’m sure we would have stayed friends the whole time instead of falling out of touch…”

“We weren’t talkin’ when you left,” he said.

“I know,” you sighed. “But I think we’d have moved past that pretty quick if we were in the same damn city.”

“Makes sense,” he agreed after a moment.

“I’m not sure about her beyond that, though,” you said after a moment of quiet.

He was quiet but lay down next to you on the rock, looking up at the stars. His body was warm, even from a few inches away.

“Missed you, you know,” he said, turning his head to look at you.

“Missed you, too,” you said, smiling a little back at him before looking back at the stars again. “You know, more than I think about staying here, I wonder what would have happened if we’d never… you know. If we’d just stayed friends.”

“Yeah?” He said. His eyes were still on you, you could feel him watching you. “What do you think would’ve happened?”

“I wouldn’t have married fuckin’ Brad,” you laughed. “You’d have seen right through his shit and talked me out of that one real quick.”

He snorted.

“I only met the guy once but he was a fuckin’ dick,” he said.

“See?” You smiled. “I needed someone to point that out to me, I couldn’t see him for what he was. I needed someone who could.”

“I probably wouldn’t have Sarah,” you heard him frown then. “Shit, that’s weird to think about… I doubt I’d have gone to the bar and hooked up with her mom that night if we’d still been friends.”

“That whole ripple effect thing,” you sighed. “Change one thing and the whole world shifts. But assuming you would still have Sarah - that girl is inevitable, you cannot deny her. She’d will herself into existence if you weren’t there to help her along - what would be different for you?”

He laughed a little and then sighed.

“Might have actually done the community college thing,” he shrugged. “You would have been on my ass about it until I fuckin’ enrolled…”

“Damn right I would’ve,” you replied.

“I’d probably have just flunked out though,” he said. “Then I’d have a bunch of loans and nothin’ to show for it.”

“Damn,” you sighed but smiled slightly, turning your head to look at him. “Who knew I’d be such a bad influence on you.”

“Nah,” he smiled. “My mom’s never wrong about that shit and she liked you. It’d be good.”

“Oh, well, if I had Mrs. Miller’s blessing…” you teased.

You just lay there, looking at each other for a bit, the rock cool below you, the river drowning out the sounds of the city that lay just out of reach on the horizon. There was a knot in your stomach when you looked at Joel for too long, something that seemed to want to dig into you, something that had lingered whenever he came to mind for years.

“Oh hey,” you said, desperate to have something else to talk about. “How did your date go the other night? The one girl you were doubling with Tommy and Maria with?”

“Oh,” Joel paused for a moment. “It was fine, I guess, but we didn’t really… I dunno, click or whatever the fuck you wanna call it. We’re not goin’ out again.”

“She was that bad in bed, eh?” You teased. Even in the dark you caught his frown.

“Wouldn’t know,” he said. “Didn’t fuck her.”

“Really?” You frowned a bit, surprised. “Well, good for you.”

“Feel like you’re implyin’ somethin’ about my dating history, Goldie,” he smiled a little.

“Just that you’re good at charming the pants off your dates,” you smiled back. “Which I’d think most men would take as a compliment.”

“Yeah, well,” he shrugged, going quiet again.

He was so close to you, so close it felt dangerous.

“Still talkin’ to that one guy?” Joel asked. “What’s his name?”

“Eric?” You asked. “The guy whose texts I showed you to see if you thought he was a whack job?”

“That’s the one,” Joel laughed a little.

“Yeah, actually,” you smiled a bit. “We’re going out this weekend, some concert he wants to see. Who cares as long as it gets me out of my damn apartment…”

“Don’t go on that date,” Joel cut you off.

“Why?” You breathed, your heart pounding against your ribs. The sad, homesick longing you’d had for him for what felt like your entire life was sharp and hot inside your stomach.

“You know why.”

“Say it.”

“I love you, Goldie,” he said, looking at you so intently that you could feel it in your blood. “I’ve loved you since were fuckin’ 16 years old and…”

“Don’t do this to me, Joel,” your voice broke as you said it. “Don’t treat me like one of the girls you date where you say whatever it is you say to them to get them into bed…”

“You think that’s what this is?” He rolled onto his side so he was looking down at you, his body just inches from your own. “That any of that shit wasn’t to make up for not havin’ you when you left?”

“That’s not…” you began but he cut you off.

“You’re it for me,” he said. “Knew it when we were 16 years old, knew it on prom night, knew it the day you left town.

“Don’t go out with that fuckin’ guy. He seems… fine. He does, Goldie. He seems better than fuckin’ Brad but Jesus, you deserve so much better than fine. Let me try to be somethin’ close to what you deserve. Don’t go on that date.”

“Joel,” you breathed.

“Don’t go on that date.”

“I won’t,” you said softly. “I’ll…”

And, for the first time in 14 years, your best friend kissed you, his hand slipping around to the back of your head, pulling your face closer to his own as his lips met yours all soft and sweet. It left you breathless when he pulled away.

“Good,” he said. “That’s… good."

"Yeah," you said. "I think it is."

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #fanfic #follower celebration

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crisisreading · 1 year

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Crying at how Ellie's parental figures (Anna, Marlene, Joel) commit their greatest acts of love for her without her knowing, therefore she has never understood the extent of parental love she's possessed.

Think about it!

Anna (despite being infected and having just gone through an unassisted childbirth) holds out just long enough to ensure Ellie's safety. She makes sure that Marlene will pass on her one possession and releases once she knows that Ellie is in good hands.

It may seem like Marlene abandoned Ellie to FEDRA, but we take for granted that Marlene is in a dangerous line of work. As leader of the Boston Fireflies, Marlene poses a danger to everyone around her. The best way she could keep Ellie safe was to keep her far away (with her enemies no less) and withhold contact.

Finally, most of Joel's greatest acts of love and protection occur without Ellie present. His tearful confession to Tommy, the brutal interrogation of David's men, his demands that Marlene take him to Ellie immediately, and his final rampage through the Firefly hospital are all done without her witnessing it.

Before meeting Joel, Ellie thinks no one has ever loved or protected her and she is wrong. After meeting Joel, she now understands that he cares for her but she will likely never grasp the extent. Ellie believes that she has always lacked for love in her life but in reality she does not even see how much of it overflows for her.

#tlou #the last of us #the last of us hbo #the last of us spoilers #ellie the last of us #ellie tlou #joel miller #joel tlou #joel the last of us #ellie williams #anna williams #tlou spoilers #marlene tlou

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rolkstone · 9 days

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The DiMaggio Crime Family info

(this is based on my AU which I have been developing with @fernikart57 and @ghosttrickfan9887 )

The Big Boss: Joel Fontana (OC by Fernikart57)

He comes from a long line of men of the same name. The first one came to the US to find a better life; his son found a much better life in crime, which he in turn taught to his own son. This current Joel is the fourth in the line and is perhaps the most bitter and angry, due to his extremely toxic upbringing and the feeling that no one likes him.

He eventually takes a seat on the Mafia Commission and spends more time in other cities, but he got his start in Springfield.

The Boss: Don Vittorio DiMaggio

His ancestor had come to the US with the first Fontana to help get them set up. Vittorio has always been a very level headed, calm, almost sweet man who found a lot of solace in his friendship with Fat Tony. He was groomed to be the boss since middle age and carefully, quietly, led things under Joel's eye. Eventually he takes over the DiMaggio crime family in Springfield and New Jersey.

He found love in his earlier age but because he was in love with another man, his father went nuclear. Vittorio had to leave his love forever. Now he continues to stay away from men romantically and collects cats.

The Underboss: Marion Anthony "Fat Tony" D'Amico

His ancestors worked faithfully alongside the DiMaggios; Tony was a sort of Mafia prince from a young age. He had everything going for him and he really embraced it. He was close with Vittorio from the start and took pride in being a good enforcer for him.

He later meets a woman named Anna Marie and they hit it off almost immediately. He later has a son with her; she dies later.

Since Don Vittorio is a very hands-off leader, Tony is seen to be the boss of the crew by many. Tony does not at all mind getting his hands dirty or helping his men do tasks that usually only peons do.

He's always been a bit chubby, but as he aged he put on the pounds. He's content with that.

The Consigliere: Armin Tamzarian aka Seymour Skinner

Seymour started his life as a criminal, but when he joined the Army, he seemed to put that behind him, especially when he met a man who inspired him to do better. He became the principal of the elementary school and an important figure in the society. But as time went by and the school funds dried, Seymour desperately turned to the Mafia for a loan.

Since he couldn't pay it back in money, Tony allowed Seymour (after having a cute meeting at a restaurant) to pay him back via tasks, like administrative or other nerdy jobs. Eventually they fell in love and a lot more responsibility was thrust upon Seymour.

He's gone through a lot with Tony, lost a lot, gained a lot. He's changed quite a bit, but is still the same sweet, deferential man he's always been.

The Co-Consigliere: Dan Gillick

He started working for the Mafia when he walked in on his old boss talking to some goons. He was threatened and promised to stay quiet. He was always good with numbers; eventually his boss "gave" him to the Mafia.

The mobsters never really respected Dan, especially as he tried to get them to curtail their spending. He had to make sure they weren't hemorrhaging money. At least because he's such a little, frail guy, no one tried to get physical with him. Don Vittorio respected and liked him a lot.

The Top Enforcer: Giovanni "Johnny Tightlips" Silencio

He was part of Carina's (more on her later) crew in New Jersey, still under the umbrella of Don Vittorio and Joel. Johnny was transferred down to Springfield after a series of gang wars took out of a lot Tony's men. Johnny was always so cool and sharp and aloof; Tony had a man-crush on him from the start and still admires him. However, the two can often butt heads as Johnny has a rather independent spirit.

Enforcer: Paulie (OC by me)

He's an older member, a middle ranking capo who's been stagnating in that rank for years now. He's bitter and resentful but decent at his niche job: making collections for the Numbers Game. He often works alongside another mobster.

Enforcer: Jimmy "The Scar"

He's been with Tony from the beginning, though in his early days he was ordered by Joel to spy on his own colleagues. This made him quite unpopular, but when he took the order to pretend to be a cop so he could spy on them, he started to regain some esteem. He's always been level headed and calm and pretty easy going; the guys end up liking him despite his ugly beginnings.

Enforcer: Max "Legs" Legman

He has an explanation for his nickname; he just never gets the chance to tell it. He's one of the few trans members of the crew, and no one knows until the information is forced out of him later. Probably due to an injury. This is partly why he is very stand-offish and touch averse.

He ran away from home at a young age and met Louie, another young runaway. They did what they had to to survive; eventually Louie was picked up by the local Mafia crew due to his Italian heritage. Legs is not Italian, but Louie made it clear they are a two part deal. Now Legs is the crew's medic, having a special talent for it.

Enforcer: Louie

Brash, thoughtless, careless, but with a good heart for a life of crime. He loves Legs but sense how he pulls away; he is constantly trying to get close, then pulling away. He's almost gotten whacked before due to his mistakes, but so far squeaks by because he's willing to do just about anything for Tony.

Peon: Frankie "The Squealer" Veloce

By all rights, he should be dead many times over. He has a compulsion to spill secrets, the more important the more it physically hurts him to keep it in. He is deeply insecure and painfully aware of how "little" he is, in many ways. He just wants to feel big; he wants to feel like he matters. His biological family has always been distant and sort of just pushed him into the Mafia.

Sometimes Tony sends Frankie to the cops to squeal about less important things to distract them.

Peon: Carmine Veloce (OC by me)

A recent member. He's trans and has no idea what he's doing. He barely passes but if the other guys realize, they don't say anything directly about it. He's usually made to do shit jobs like cleaning up and dissolving dead bodies. He's Frankie's cousin, but Frankie doesn't know about his new identity.

The New Jersey Crew

Led by Carina D'Amico, this satellite crew runs things in Newark, New Jersey for the benefit of Don Vittorio and Joel. The crews are primarily independent of each other though will sometimes visit each other or join up for battles.

Boss: Carina D'Amico (OC by me)

She was born Silvio D'Amico, and was raised as a Mafia prince alongside her brother Tony. She was sent to New Jersey as a youth to establish a crew there. She ruled her crew with an iron fist as Silvio for many, many years, knowing something was wrong but afraid to address it in this extremely toxic and macho world of the Mafia.

She started transitioning only recently. There are many in the Mafia who still know her as Silvio, though few make the mistake to call her that. Don Vittorio admires her a lot and has set the standard for his entire Family to respect her.

Underboss: Fausto

A hot headed man whore with many boyfriends, Fausto is Carina's trusted leg breaker. He's her main enforcer. He's tough and brittle, but there's a sensitive heart down there somewhere.

Consigliere: John Lawson (OC by Fernikart57) (not pictured)

More level headed, but also very cruel. He keeps the books for Carina. He is too fragile to fight physically, but his ability to run numbers in his head makes him scary to debtors.

Medic: Layla "Flake" (OC by me)

She got involved with the Mafia when her brother took a job from the wrong man and got imprisoned. She went into debt trying to help him. She met some peons who worked for Carina and eventually met Carina herself, offering whatever she could do instead of money. She's been studying to be a doctor, but was stopped by lack of funds. Carina pays her well now, but keeps her on call at all times.

Enforcer: Floyd (OC by Fernikart57)

A sensitive, careful guy. He lost his arm in a battle; however is the primary driver for the crew in their modified car.

Enforcer: Gregorio

A nasty middle aged guy. He's a smooth talker, a real lady killer, but he's genuinely violent with them too.

#myart #art #the simpsons #tloo characters #au characters #fat tony #don vittorio #au characters: joel #au characters: carmine #max legman #louie walters #springfield mafia #au characters: carina #simpsons oc

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dyaly21 · 1 year

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TLOU spoilers: show/game

I was just thinking about what Marlene says about Ellie's immunity. How the way the cordyceps have developed within her makes other cordyceps think she's cordyceps.

I'm going to take that literally for this and say if that were true, why does she still get attacked? The infected don't attack each other because some part of it acknowledges the presence of itself in others. It serves no purpose at that point to try to attack. The job is done.

Now it can be argued Tess got bit but that one infected still goes to her. I took it as since it's a relatively fresh infection the connection in her brain hasn't been fully established yet and he's - the kissy infected - just connecting her to the main line. She's already infected and losing control over to that infection so she isn't really fighting back (lighter aside) and he's further "welcoming" her to the table. After all, in the beginning the infected bit others in rapid succession, wanting to, as David so grossly and twistedly described, be fruitful and multiply. They didn't hang around after as long as they knew they'd passed on the cordyceps.

Ellie on the other hand has been "infected" since her birth, this infection mutating as she grows up to grow with her. So if the doctor intends to manipulate the cordyceps in Ellie's brain to be like a "cure" against it, shouldn't that mean she should have never been attacked by the living cordyceps?

If the show (or game) had presented Ellie's immunity as she's bit ACCIDENTALLY, I could see the way Marlene's belief in this doctor might be substantial. Ellie doesn't even need to realize this herself (not that she would in such tense moments), only as long as the viewer/player sees it. Because if Riley is attacked and Ellie is bit ONLY because she's trying to stop the infected from attacking Riley and his bite meets Ellie's flesh by chance, or during the museum she's bit because she moves wrong when that clicker was trying to attack ONLY Joel, then I could maybe see how what Marlene describes is adequate. It's like, surprise! They never targeted Ellie even though she doesn't know she's been exposed before, and they didn't bite her because they didn't need to, so it just happened by accident. They sense themselves in her already, they think she's cordyceps. Because otherwise, she's still a target and the cordyceps don't actually recognize her as cordyceps until she's been bitten and their infection meets itself and realizes it took a wrong turn since it's not propagating on top of itself. As Tess says, Ellie's not immune to being ripped apart. Which I feel is a big important line they included.

So what would that mean for people given the cure? How would the doctor know how to manipulate it to keep attacks from happening? Would there be another sacrificial lamb who is given the "cure" and then thrust toward an infected? How many attempts and how many deaths - with an already depleted population - would be required? Or acceptable? Would they even be given a choice?

In the game it's shown a lot of thought has gone into this cure. Cool. Good (ignoring mention in game of multiple "immune" persons where the attempts failed). Didn't necessarily translate onto show but considering the science - be it 2003 or 2013 - was not equipped to cure fungal infections, dilapidated tech - be it 2023 or 2033 - was not going to be on the up and up of proper study, game or show. So it was all hinged on big giant what-ifs. What-ifs with only one specimen. The failure rate would need to be nonexistent. And that's impossible.

So to me, Marlene was too idealistic, buying into BS because it's better than what they've dealt with. Maybe she's also subconsciously angry at Ellie for existing like she is because Anna died and Marlene had to kill her and if not for Ellie, Anna might not have been attacked like she was. Maybe. Who knows. And this doesn't even cover how the cure would be recreated - again, terrible tech - and then distributed - people don't trust in this world, distribution would be really difficult at best. Not to mention are any motives here altruistic or is it a chance to have bigger control.

I don't know if Neil and Co. thought along these lines once it was established Ellie is immune. Or if they weren't considered because normal people don't wake up at 3am thinking "way a minute, what about this? Or how about that?" Seriously, I woke up annoyed at 3am because this thought was running through my head and in the 10 years since the game was released I had not thought it.

Regardless. In an effort to take Marlene at her direct word, there's a lot of problems. Which ultimately leaves me to reiterate my position of agreeing with Joel's decisions. From a fictional standpoint the violence is intense and exhilarating. From a moral and ethical standpoint the violence is intense and "wrong" since it was so much carnage. However, though I'm not a parent I have niblings I love very much and would scorch the earth for them were they in this situation.

The trolley is troubled. There's no guarantee the sacrifice of one would even benefit the many. That was exposed. I can firmly say I wouldn't greater good lie to myself. So I agree with Joel - his lies I don't like but can understand too because parents do lie to protect but ultimately that's a bigger, separate thing.

Also I just want to say I appreciate the show and game subverting the young girl sacrifices herself for the greater good of humanity (not including her losing her agency because that's a different conversation). It's a pretty regular trope I've seen and this one was kind, nah.

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from-the-clouds · 1 year

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So I'm full on obsessed with Texas Sun. It's amazing, and I find myself anxiously a tithe next chapter. So good! Since you seem to read Joel very similarly to how I do, I was wondering what your thoughts were on Joel and Tess. I feel like there's this notion they had a love story, but all I see is a great partnership mixed in with a one sided attraction (on Tess' side). Idk if Joel really did feel something but buried all feelings bc of Sarah or if she just wasn't his person. I tend to believe the latter. Would love to hear your thoughts!

ahhhh! i'm so glad you like it!

okay so i both agree and disagree with you and here are my thoughts. i also am open to other interpretations (under the cut)

i agree with what you say about it being more of a companionship/partnership that's one sided. i think tess probably always wanted more from him but understood not to expect anything -- particularly tess in the show seemed a lot more attached to joel than tess in the game.

however, i do think that they were most likely lovers as well. it just seems like a natural conclusion based on the other information we have about them. thankfully, the show gives us a little more intimacy between them than we see in the game -- we learn that they have been 'together' since at least 2010, and even in that conversation with bill, joel refers to tess as 'mine' which i would surmise means they have known each other even longer. So he has been with her for at least 13 years by the time they meet ellie. we also see that they sleep together at night, and joel even feels safe enough with tess to sleep with his good ear to the pillow when she is there with him. strangely enough, we don't see much physical touch between them in the game, but they do have a fair bit of flirty banter. this scene comes to mind. i don't think they were that explicitly flirty on the show. just in general, though, joel in the game is a little more relaxed and less grumpy than pedro's joel (in my opinion but that's a convo for another day).

i also think that they did both love each other, but i could see joel not wanting to acknowledge this, or if he did, it was more of a platonic love he felt. i think i saw an interview somewhere with anna torv where she said that they came up with a whole backstory for tess -- she was married and she lost both her husband and son to cordyceps. if that's true both tess and joel both lost children and i'm sure that they found a lot of comfort being with someone who understood that specific type of pain.

there are also more examples that show how much joel cared for tess even if he wouldn't talk about specifics of his relationship with her -- the way that tommy asked about her, and the little memorial he builds for her in the stream in episode 3.

but yeah so like, TLDR: whether it was romantic or not, they clearly still loved and cared about each other deeply and they were close companions, even if joel could never really allow himself to commit to her in the way she wanted.

#asks #writing #texas sun #joel miller #tess servopoulos #tess x joel

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hypnotisedfireflies · 7 months

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Hi,

I know you wanted to go back to the Prime universe but would you consider writing a Modern AU with Joel and Tess where Sarah still died?

I'd love to see your take of a post Sarah Joel in a modern AU with the TLOU characters.

Good morning! 🤗

I probably wouldn't, at least not any time soon. I'm not not sure what I could bring to that scenario that would be compelling.

When I think of how it might play out I keep coming back to the same thing: Joel would never recover. I think the fact that the world's still turning would work against rather than for him. And without the trauma and the need to protect Ellie, if she were to come into his life, would he still be able to bond with her in a setting where civilisation is still extant?

I mean, there's all kinds of traumas you can add but it's easier to accept how their relationship forms in the canon setting.

But then what if Anna was Joel's relative or something and she is sick and Joel has to take Ellie in that way? Now I'm just thinking aloud.

I don't know now. 😂 My immediate reaction is no, I wouldn't write that, but rewriting TLOU in no-apoc setting and finding a way to hit those beats is compelling. So who knows? Maybe. 🫣

Thanks for your ask!

A maladjusted Joel in an on again, off again relationship with Tess though, meeting at some therapy group they both skipped out on by the first break and then therapising each other

#driftersverse #asks

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lionlena · 11 months

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Unforgivable mistake (JoelMillerxreader) Part 5

(but this chapter is more fluff)

Part 5

As soon as you left the Jackson gates, you felt like you could breathe again. You left all that shit behind. Maybe it was a bit like running away from your problems, but you needed it. You didn't feel up to the consequences of Joel's actions. And you knew they would be. Anderson still had friends in town who would start whispering behind your back. They'll be looking at you and Joel. There will be rumors and lies. You weren't prepared to fight these people yet. You shifted in the saddle and hugged your son tighter, who was sitting in front of you. You suddenly heard his mournful whine.

"What happened baby?"

"Why Ellie and Joel can't come with us? Is it because I told Joel about Mr. Anderson?"

Your heart broke at the confession of your sweet little one. You immediately kissed his head. "No honey, it's because Anna and Toby don't know them."

"But they might."

"Yes, but first you have to politely ask if they want to meet them."

"Hmm..."

Seeing that your little son is not convinced, you decided to direct his attention to something else.

"Aren't you excited to see your grandparents? Why don't we ask Grandpa Toby to take you fishing?"

Teddy finally seemed happy and excitedly squealed, "Yes! And we'll bake fish for dinner..."

For fifteen minutes, Joel had been staring blankly at the empty stall where the horse you rode, had previously stood. He wasn't happy and he wasn't going to hide it. He didn't like your idea, but at the same time, he didn't want to cross any boundaries. He didn't want to pressure you and upset you. Although it was difficult for him, the whole terrible situation with Anderson paradoxically gave him hope. You stood up for him just as he stood up for you. And you didn't take revenge on him. Even though you had a right to. It all made him look at you differently. He remembered how in Boston sometimes he involuntarily looked at you because you were beautiful and sweet. You were a balm to his weary soul.

He remembered how he brushed your cheek last night and you didn't flinch, you didn't push him away. Though it was probably because you were too focused on his words.

He sighed heavily and grabbed his pitchfork to start cleaning up.

You probably still hated him to the core, and he shouldn't be clinging to a stupid piece of hope.

As soon as from a distance you saw a familiar wooden house, you began to smile widely.

Anna and Toby were an elderly couple who lived outside of Jackson. Many times they were offered to move, but they preferred to stay in their home. With Jackson, they maintained friendly relations. They exchanged wares with the locals. That's how you met them. They needed a new horse and came to Jackson with a good deal. Teddy was only 8 months old at the time, and you held him in your arms and showed Toby a horse that might suit him. An older couple was delighted with you and your son, whom they quickly began to treat as their own grandson. In the next trade, Anna gave you a blanket she made for Teddy as a gift.

And that's how your friendship began. You visited them from time to time and they always welcomed you with open arms. You felt right at home.

This time it was the same even though they noticed your bad mood right away.

Joel heard a soft laugh behind him. He stopped cleaning the bay mare for a moment and looked back. Ellie was sitting on the straw with a book on her lap. He gave her an offended look.

"What?" he murmured.

"This horse will soon shine like a diamond. The rest of the stable is shining too. Aren't you trying too hard?"

"I just want everything to be done right. I don't want Y/N to be mad when she gets back."

At the mention of your name, the teenage girl suddenly look saddened, Joel took a step towards her.

"Do you think they'll come back?" she asked.

Joel didn't want to let on that these terrifying thoughts were bothering him too. You've already disappeared from his life once for years because he hurt you. What if you did it again? But he didn't want to believe it.

"Of course, they will," he replied quickly. "Teddy has his place here, his friends and us. Y/N wouldn't take it all away from him." Ellie nodded and smiled slightly. "Besides, I would have found her then. I wouldn't have let her just disappear a second time."

The girl nodded and pointed to the horse's leg. "You missed the spot."

He rolled his eyes and muttered, "You'd better help me."

"Forget it!"

You sat next to Anna on the porch with a mug of coffee and enjoyed the morning calm. In the early morning Toby took Teddy fishing. Your son was so sleepy and excited at the same time. You were sure the little one would need a nap as soon as they got back, and that would give you another two hours of rest.

"So," Anna suddenly began, "Joel is Teddy's father?"

You jumped and nearly spilled your coffee.

"What?" you choked out. "How did you come to that?"

The woman looked at you indulgently. "I've lived in this world for almost seventy years. I see a lot of things. Teddy talks about him all the time. He spends a lot of time with him, but at the same time, you haven't even mentioned him. This suggests to me that Joel is not your new partner, who gets along great with your son. If he's not your partner, I don't believe you'd let a strange man babysit your child. That would be disturbing. So?"

You sighed heavily and nodded your head. "Yeah... Joel is that asshole from Boston who is Teddy's father."

"But he's good for Teddy?"

You looked at her slightly offended. "You know I'd kill him if he hurt him, but... The truth is that Joel is very tender and loving around him. So much so that sometimes it hurts to me saw this." Anna grabbed your hand and gave you a comforting squeeze. "He's not such an asshole anymore... In fact, he's really changed. He... Two days ago he stood up for me and even apologized to me."

Your voice trembled towards the end, which the woman didn't miss. "What's bothering you dear? Don't get me wrong, I'm always happy when you visit us, but this time I feel like we're just an excuse. You're running from something."

You swallowed and muttered, "He's wondering if I'll ever forgive him, and I... I don't know. His presence reminds me of the bad times as well as the good ones. He wasn't always an asshole to me. You know, he helped me sometimes. I was so stupid that sometimes I would take jobs too hard for me just to see him. Like digging trenches. I wasn't making my quota and... He would do it for me. Or he showed me how to hold tools. Now he's doing it again. He's helping me. And again... I feel my heart speed up at the sight of him and I feel warmer and... It shouldn't be like this. I should hate him. What he did should be unforgivable."

You felt a tear roll down your cheek and you wiped it furiously.

"So, you don't want to forgive him."

"If I forgive him, it means I've come to terms with what he did to me."

Anna shook her head. "No. You see, forgiveness is like a broken cup. If someone you love breaks your favorite cup, you have four choices. Not to forgive, give them the broken pieces and tell them to get out of the house. Or you can forgive, accept the loss and throw the broken pieces in the trash. But you can also forgive and not accept the loss. You can glue the pieces together even if the cup is no longer usable, and it will remind you of the loss. Have you seen that glued cup that stands above the fireplace?" You nodded your head. "I destroyed it when I found out Toby cheated on me."

You looked at her shocked. "Toby? Really?"

Anna laughed slightly. "He wasn't always as saintly as he is now. I forgave him but never reconciled that he did this to me, and the glued cup was a reminder to him that I can fix a cup that broke once, but if he does it a second time, then there will be no going back."

You nodded your head and asked, "And the fourth option?"

"The fourth is the worst. You just leave the broken pieces, but you have to remember that the longer those pieces lie on the floor, the greater the chance that somebody innocent will step on them and cut themselves."

You looked ahead and went back to drinking your coffee. Anna gave you a lot to think about.

"Fuck, Tommy, just tell me where exactly it is!"

Joel was losing patience with his brother, who consistently refused to tell him where exactly you were.

"They've been gone for four days. Teddy is small and Y/N was nervous. What if she got the wrong way? Or if..."

"Y/N knows the way and..." Tommy sighed and murmured, "Joel, I really understand you. I'd be worried about my baby too, but..."

"Wait! You know?"

Tommy laughed. "Maria told me, but even if she hadn't told me, what would I believe that my brother is playing babysitter just because he likes his neighbor?"

Joel sighed heavily and rubbed his neck. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because then I'd have to acknowledge what you've done," he muttered reluctantly. "Accept what a dick you were."

Joel snorted. "It's easy to judge when you're in nice, clean Jackson, not smelly Boston, where morality isn't something you value. I'm not proud of what I did, but I want to fix it, and I want to be sure, that my baby and his mother are safe!"

Tommy sighed heavily. "Okay. Tomorrow I'll go with you to where she's supposed to be. Satisfied?"

"Yes."

You gave Anna a tight hug and Toby put Teddy on the horse.

"I packed you a honey," she said.

"Thank you, for everything."

She smiled at you and gently stroked your cheek. "Whatever you've decided, I know it's the right decision."

You said goodbye to Toby and he helped you onto the horse.

Teddy was obviously a little sad to be leaving his grandparents, but at the same time, he was happy that you guys were coming home. Once you were close, you decided to surprise him.

"You know what I'm thinking baby?"

"About what, mommy?"

"Why don't we go over to Ellie and Joel's and make honey cakes with them?"

"Yes!"

Your son started bouncing with happiness and you smiled.

Joel was just finishing packing his backpack when he heard a knock on the door.

"Ellie, open it, it must be Tommy!"

Instead of his brother's voice, he heard a joyful, childish scream and immediately dropped everything he was doing. As soon as Teddy saw him, he let go of Ellie and ran towards to man. Joel immediately grabbed him and lifted him up.

"I missed you!" the boy shouted.

"I missed you too 'bear cub', a lot."

The toddler rested his head in the crook of Joel's neck and sighed contentedly. You couldn't help but smile slightly at the sight. Your son and Joel acted like they hadn't seen each other for five months instead of five days.

"We met Tommy on the way," you said and gave Joel a suggestive look.

He shifted his son onto his hip and rubbed the nape of his neck with his free hand. You saw he was confused. "I was worried," he murmured.

"He was sick of cleaning the horses! Or they were sick of him," Ellie stated.

"Ellie!"

The girl stuck her tongue out at him, which amused Teddy, who suddenly remembered what you came for.

"Mom, cookies!"

"Ah yes!" You showed a jar of honey and said, "Anna gave me this and I thought we could make honey cookies, together."

"Fucking awesome!" the girl shouted.

"Ellie," Joel hissed. "Not in front of the little one."

You smiled slightly. You liked that Joel cared about such things, but you weren't going to scold the teenage girl. Instead, you asked, "Do you have everything in the kitchen? Flour, eggs, butter?"

"Sure, come on," said the girl.

Joel leaned against the doorframe and watched the three of you cut cookies. You, Ellie, and Teddy who stood on a chair between you.

He felt his heart swell at the sight. He didn't know why you suggested it, but he wasn't going to complain. He also saw that Ellie needed it. After everything she'd been through, she deserved a bit of a family vibe.

"If you don't help us, you won't get anything," said the teenage girl.

He smiled maliciously at her. "Oh, I was sure I'd get your cookies as thanks for putting up with you."

You just rolled your eyes knowing full well how much Joel cared about the girl. Meanwhile, she shouted indignantly: "Yeah, alright!"

She grabbed a handful of flour and threw it at Joel. The moment she did it, you already knew how it would end... A complete mess. Teddy, of course, repeated the girl's gesture. Joel leaped forward and grab some flour. Ellie jumped back towards you and the flour thrown at her landed on you. Joel looked at you in shock.

"Oops."

You heard Ellie's voice behind you.

"Oops?" you said and threw flour at Joel and at the same time Teddy threw at Ellie.

"Hey kid, I thought we were on the same team!"

You laughed and said, "Believe me Ellie, there are no teams in this war."

You threw flour at Teddy, who squealed with delight and with Joel's help jumped to the floor. Then the toddler threw flour at you and Joel.

All four of you started laughing and You thought how surreal it was. If a stranger looked at you all, they might think you were family. Six months ago, you'd have said you'd rather throw a knife at Joel than flour, but you stood there in clothes covered with white powder. You took a deep breath and said, "Okay. That's enough. We're putting the cookies in the oven. And then," you looked at Ellie, "you and Joel are cleaning up this mess."

The girl groaned. "Why I?"

You raised your eyebrows. "Because you two started it."

Joel was on the porch. He was leaning forward, resting his elbows on the railing.

You approached him so quietly that he jumped when you said, "Please try it before the kids eat it all."

Joel took a cookie from the plate you handed him and said, "Thank you."

You felt a slight warmth in your chest as you heard that one word. You couldn't stop it. You waited a while until you finally cleared your throat and said, "I've been thinking about what you said about forgiving you."

Joel swallowed the remnants of cookies with difficulty and quickly set the plate aside. He stared at you, waiting for your verdict and knowing that he would accept any decision you made.

"I'm not ready to forgive you yet... Not everything." He nodded. "But even if I forgive you, I will not accept what you did to me, I will not forget it."

Joel cautiously approached you and grabbed your hand. He placed a gentle kiss on your knuckles and whispered, "I don't want you to accept this. I don't want you to forget, because I don't want you to let some other man hurt you." He was still holding your hand.

"What do you want?" you asked quietly.

"More moments like today. I know I'm an egoist..."

You thought you were going to cry from the amount of emotions you were feeling and you wanted to stop it somehow. You pulled away from him and saw him reluctantly let go of your hand.

"If these moments always will end with my dirty clothes, then there won't be any more moments like this," you joked, though the tension in your voice was easily noticeable.

Joel, however, chose to pretend he hadn't noticed. He raised his hands in surrender. "It's Ellie's fault."

You laughed slightly. "Don't blame everything on the child."

"She's not such a small and innocent baby after all," he muttered.

"As for the small baby, I should put Teddy to bed soon. He's had a tiring day today and he's going to be cranky soon."

Joel shifted uneasily. "If you want to rest, I can take care of him."

You bit your lip. It was a tempting proposition, but you weren't sure if your son was ready to sleep in a strange house. And did you ready for it?

"No... Staying here will just be another source of excitement and will make it harder for him to fall asleep."

He nodded and replied, "Okay. I'll bring him."

When he returned, Teddy was burying his head in the crook of Joel's neck and sucking thumb. You sighed slightly at the sight. "I'm late, someone is already cranky."

Joel nodded and tilted his head to the side to make more room for the little one. "He wants me to take him to bed and read him a bedtime story."

You opened your mouth to say something but closed it. You could tell by the way Teddy was burying his head in Joel's neck that he was very sleepy. You had no chance of persuading him to go with you alone. It would end in tears and loud sobs. So you nodded and headed home.

You plopped down on the couch and waited for Joel to leave Teddy's room. It didn't take long.

"He fell asleep." You nodded, and he added, "You know, I thought if you wanted to rest after your journey, I'd take care of the stable tomorrow."

You raised your eyebrows. "Really?"

"No problem. I'll go now."

He started to head towards the door but you stopped him. "Joel." He looked at you curiously. "Thank you." He smiled slightly and nodded.

When he left, you closed your eyes and realized it was time to pick up the broken pieces and glue them back together. You knew it wasn't going to happen in a day or two, but you were ready to start.

I'm obsessed with this photo. Joel could hold Teddy like this all the time ;)

Part IV

Part VI

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