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auteurdelabre · 2 months

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PLEASE, MISTER MILLER? (Sequel part 5) BFDJoel! x f!Reader

Chapter summary: You and Joel navigate long distance, your parents and the realization that college graduation is just around the corner.

series masterlist

rating: 18+

a/n: Y'all this chapter is a fuckin beast. I had to break it up because its lookin' like another marathon chapter and I am a slut for comments so I had to break it up. Please comment, reblog, all that good juju and you'll make your girl real happy.

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I miss you.

[HIM💜]Miss you too, baby.

Send me a pic.

[HIM💜]

NOT THAT KIND.

[HIM💜]

Much better. You're cute, Miller.

[HIM💜] You're not so bad yourself, Snowflake.

I wish you were here, Joel. I keep waking up thinking you'll be next to me.

[HIM💜] I feel the same, baby. I keep looking over in bed expecting to see you and that way you smile when you’re all sleepy. Then I get all blue when it's nothing but empty mattress.

[HIM💜] Is it cheesy if I say I can't wait to hold you again?

Not at all. I’m counting down the days until graduation.

[HIM💜] Coming up quick. You excited?

Sorta. What are you doing right now?

[HIM💜] You alone?

Yep.

[HIM💜 CALLING]

Joel's face pops up on your phone, smiling at you from what looks like a hardware store. Warmth floods you as you gaze at him. You see that he’s dressed casually, a grey t-shirt over his broad torso, a baseball cap over his tussled curls.

"Hey, baby." He smiles broadly at you and you swear you can feel your heart skip a beat.

"Where are you?"

"Paint store." He holds up a color swatch if several shades of dark green. "Whadda ya think of this color?"

He holds the simple up closer to the camera. Some of his curls peek out near his neck under his hat. You can still feel their silken texture wrapped around your fingers like some sensual ghost.

Fuck you miss him.

"Nice," you offer. "What's this for?"

"Wanna repaint my bedroom," he says grinning like an excited schoolchild.

“Why are you repainting your bedroom?” You ask amused. Joel’s face contorts from beaming excitement to a somber flinch and you regret asking it.

"Tess moved out last weekend," Joel says almost timidly. “And uh, I wanted to repaint. Fresh start and all that.”

Your stomach jumps at those words. Tess moved out. For the past few months you and Joel have been in regular contact via phone and texting. He mentioned that the divorce papers were drawn up, that Tess had agreed to it with an almost upsetting lack of emotion. But actually knowing that she had moved out? That feels momentous.

"Woah, so it's really over," you croak with a nervous shiver breaking out along your body.

"Was over for a long time, baby," Joel assures you. "This just makes it official."

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, just feel guilty. Feel like I should be more upset but I'm just so fucking relieved."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

You pause, uncertain where you two stand. Yes you said you wanted to continue this together. But what does that mean exactly? Maybe now that Joel is single again he’ll want to play the field. And why not? He’s early forties, gorgeous and has the most wonderful, caring personality of anyone you’ve ever met. Why wouldn’t he want to sleep around and have fun before committing himself to a relationship again?

"You've gone quiet, baby."

You give a smile to yourself. "Just thinking."

"Thinkin' 'bout what?"

"Just that you're getting divorced, and maybe... Maybe you want to sow your wild oats or something." You cringe at your phrasing. "Maybe you don't wanna be tied down in a relationship right away.”

You aren't expecting the sharp laugh from over the line. You love how his eyes crinkle when he smiles at you. You watch him move to a corner of the store that’s a little quieter, a little more private. Then he switches the call to voice only. You raise the phone to your ear, heart thudding.

"Don't you think you're the one that should be sowing wild oats?" Joel chuckles. "You're the one in her twenties."

"Nah, I've done enough of that," you admit shyly.

"So've I," Joel tells you and he sounds earnest.

"Maybe you don't wanna be tied down in a relationship you know?" You offer feebly. "I mean, maybe you wanna date around or... I dunno."

You trail off feeling embarrassed.

"Only interested in datin' one girl and it's the one I’m talkin’ to," Joel says evenly. "Same girl who has me smiling like a fuckin' idiot at my phone so much my brother commented on it at work."

You can't help but blush, even though he's not even there to see it. "Yeah?"

"Yep. Had to tell him it was a dating app just so he'd leave me alone."

You laugh at the thought. You don't know Tommy other than what Joel tells you, but he sounds like trouble. The fun kind.

“I’m lookin’ very forward to seein’ her next month,” Joel offers and you feel your lower belly pool with arousal at the sound. “Thought I’d book us in at the same hotel but only one bed this time.”

“Mmm I’d like that,” you coo, sighing softly at the thought.

“Yeah?” Joel’s voice is so low it’s a purr. “Eager to make up for lost time?”

“Mhmmm.” You can’t help but feel the tug of lust skittering across your body. “I can’t stop thinking about all the things I wanna do to you, Mister Miller. My pussy is dripping just thinking about it. How do you wanna fuck me first?”

“Fuck,” Joel hisses out and you giggle at the sound. He turns the phone back to face time and you see his pupils blown wide.

“Don’t do that to me here, honey. Not while I’m lookin’ at paint samples. Now, be a good girl and tell me, what do you think of this one?"

He holds up the paint sample again. It’s a dark green, too dark for a bedroom in your opinion. But You think back to sitting on the hotel bed with Joel during your time together. Of him telling you that Tess took control of everything down to the color of his bed sheets and you hesitate.

You don’t want to do that to him. You don’t want to control him.

"I like it," you answer, narrowing your eyes slightly. "It's just..."

"What?"

Joel is frowning at the screen now, looking concerned at your thoughtful silence. He raises a brow when you look back at the phone.

"It's a really nice color," you concede. "I love green."

"But?"

"But nothing."

"Baby," Joel says gently, a softness in tone that draws your gaze to his waiting eyes. "C'mon now, no lies here."

"Doesn't matter what I like."

"Matters to me."

You feel anxiety pricking at your body, making you nibble the inside of your cheek. Joel watches you through the phone, you see people wandering the aisle behind him.

"I think it might be too dark," you finally offer. "But that's only because to me a bedroom should make you feel calm and relaxed. I've always been partial to blues. But honestly, Joel, that's just personal preference. You should get what you're drawn to. With all that green it's like you're sleeping in the forest which I know you like."

Joel nods, lower lip stuck out in thought. All of a sudden you hear a key at your door and you panic.

"Shit, I gotta go."

The call ends just as Sarah walks into the dorm room yawning. She almost trips over the cardboard boxes the two of you had been packing earlier.

"I'm so sick of essay formatting," she says with a groan as she tosses her backpack onto the ground.

"Same." You peek at her over your phone. "There's an iced coffee for you in the fridge."

"Have I told you lately that I love you?" Sarah sings, taking the coffee from the fridge and throwing herself on the bed next to you.

You wouldn't love me if you knew why I bought it.

You give a short smile, giggling as she rubs her shoulder next to yours, urging you to give her more room on your bed. She's often remarked that despite you both having the same college -dorm -issued mattress that yours is far more comfortable.

“It’ll all be worth it when I’m walking around South America with Charlie this summer,” Sarah sighs. “Three whole months of museums and delicious food and-“

“Fucking,” you finish for her. She blushes wildly before pushing you with her arm.

"I feel like you've been buying me a ton of stuff lately," Sarah muses all of a sudden. "You never let me pay for dinner and this is like the tenth time you've had coffee waiting for me. What gives?"

You force a natural looking smile on your face.

"Dunno. Guess since we won't be roommates next year I'm just trying to enjoy you while I can."

And because I've been fucking your dad in secret for months and have no intention of stopping.

Sarah gives a sarcastic laugh before growing somber. "Are you nervous about graduation next month?"

"A little," you say honestly, your eyes drifting from her face to the popcorn ceiling above you. "I still haven't told my parents about grad school."

"What?" Sarah drains the last of her coffee before propping herself up on an elbow and looking at you severely. "Why?"

"Dunno."

That's a lie. You know exactly why. Because you're parents are the least supportive, most caustic people you know. Sarah frowns at you over her drink.

"You're gonna have to tell them eventually."

"Yeah I know."

“Have you seen Conrad lately?”

“Not since the trip,” you answer with a small smirk.

Thankfully you haven’t seen Conrad since that night months ago when he caught you and Joel fucking in your bed. You’ve seen him in passing around campus a few times, but he usually just goes red in the face and strides past you.

"I'm so glad you dumped him," Sarah tells you with a guilty smile. "I was so worried he was gonna propose in Ibiza and be stuck rearing his moron kids. But ever since you got back you've been different."

"Different?"

"Yeah," she nods giving a knowing smile.

She pushes herself off of the bed and goes to the boxes she’d been in the process of packing before classes. She sits herself down on the rug, staring up at you looking into middle distance, still laying on the bed.

You take a moment to covertly look through your photos of Joel. Fuck you miss him. You look at the photo of him at the gallery, of him in glasses, of the two of you in bed, of him carrying your bags to the elevator. You smile.

"Is it the married guy?"

You don't answer. You don't want to answer. You don't want to know what Sarah thinks about you being with a married man, especially when that man is her father.

You sit up and join her on the floor, going through the box you yourself were packing before Joel called. It’s your collection of trinkets collected during your time in school. A ticket stub from your first theatre going here, a cut out from the school paper where you’d submitted an article on the anthropology of monogamy, amongst other clutter that makes you smile.

"Well if it is, it seems like he's making you really happy," she offers tentatively. “Honestly in all the time I’ve known you I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so happy.”

“Well I did get into my Masters program,” you remind her. “And I am graduating with honors.”

“Right,” Sara concedes as the two of you continue packing up your modest dorm room, wrapping her horse figurines in newspaper. She glances over into your box of trinkets and spots the carving Joel made for you. The one that you’ve rubbed down with your thumb over months of keeping it in your pocket.

“You still have that?” Sarah says with a sweet expression on her face. “Isn’t that the one my dad carved for you?”

“Yeah,” you nod, forcing yourself to sound neutral.

“I love that you kept it,” Sarah says with a hand over her heart. “My Dad loves carving these things. I have so many from over the years. Soccer balls, horses, mermaids. Even a dragon from when I was really obsessed with them.”

You love hearing stories about Joel and so you listen intently while trying to appear casual. But every time you get a new piece of information something in you bubbles in delight. The thought of your Joel in the world maybe carving at this very moment.

Your Joel.

“Well it was really nice of him,” you say. “More thoughtful than anything my parents ever bought me.”

Your eyes trail to the dress hanging over the door of your closet and you sigh. The latest gift from your parents, a dress for graduation. A virginal white dress with ruffles that doesn’t suit you at all.

“Oh my God do you remember this play?” Sarah asks holding up your torn ticket. “The fucking lighting guy kept missing the cue and the actress was in darkness half the show?”

The two of you collapse into giggles at the memory and you realize with a small devastation that Sarah is the closest thing you've ever had to a best friend. She's supportive and encouraging. She helps you study, she was there for you when you broke up with Conrad, she was the first person you told about grad school because she was the one that insisted you apply.

“Who cares what your parents think? This is your life!”

There's a very large part of you that hates how you're keeping everything from her even though you know there's no other option. It runs a thread of fear through you that makes you question how you and Joel can continue.

Would Sarah support it? Or would she be disgusted? You don't really know. You've never been on Sarah's bad side before. When you and Joel have talked about it he's been clear that he wants to be the one to bring it up to Sarah 'if it gets to that point'. But when will you both know you’ve reached that point?

“Tell me more about married guy,” Sarah insists, nudging your knee with her socked foot. “I wanna know everything.”

“He’s…well, he’s great. Handsome and smart and he really listens to me,” you eventually admit with an amused pull of your lips. “He makes me really happy, Sarah. I’ve told him stuff I’ve never told anyone.”

Sarah’s eyes go soft. “Really?”

“Yeah.” Your eyes drop to your hands and you feel tears start at the corners. “I’ve never trusted anyone like I trust him. He makes me feel… Cared for.”

The two of you lapse into a comfortable silence as you continue packing up your dorm items. Suddenly Sarah pipes up.

“Is he good in bed?”

You try to swallow the disgusted expression on your face, but she catches it. Her eyes widen with amusement as she tosses a throw pillow at your head. You catch it, trying to will the panic from your expression.

“What?” Sarah gives a small giggle. “You used to tell me everything you and Conrad did, which wasn’t much by the way. But now you’re a vault?”

“It’s uh, just different with him,” you say quickly lowering your eyes to the newspaper you pack your collectibles in. “It feels more… special. I dunno how to describe it. Next question.”

“Are you in love with him?”

You barely pause.

“Yeah,” you nod. “Yeah I am.”

///

Sarah leaves for her evening class later that night and you sit staring at your phone. You want to call Joel and tell him how much you miss him. You want him to speak filth into your ears so you can come. You want to be in his arms with his full mouth on yours. You just want him.

The future is so precarious in many ways. When you’d received your acceptance letter into your Masters program you’d been delighted. When you’d called Joel later that day he’d been so fucking supportive it brought tears to your eyes.

And yet you couldn’t bring yourself to tell your parents. Couldn’t stand the knowledge that a man you’d known for less than six months had known exactly how to support your successes better than your own parents did.

But it’s time now. Graduation is next week and they’ll be coming out to ask your plans. They’ll take you to your fancy dinner and they’ll espouse how a future in Anthropology is a hobby. How you should have gone into Business or something more realistic. And you’ll sit there like you always do with your eyes on your plate willing the evening to be over.

Get it over with.

You punch in your parent’s number and raise your phone to your ear. Your stomach twists when you hear the sound of the phone ringing as you hold your cell to your ear. Despite the fact that you're calling them on any other line, it almost feels like the ring home seems more barren, more echo-ey.

The phone clicks and you hear your mom bark out your name. You wince.

"Hey mom."

"Hello. Did you get the dress?”

“Yes Mom,” you say in an obedient tone.

“Well, it’s quite late. Is anything the matter?"

"No," you say feeling your heart in your chest. "I'm calling because I wanted you to-"

"We received the graduation tickets," your mother continues, not even listening to you. "Not even assigned seating. Ridiculous."

There's something about calling home that makes you feel impossibly small and insignificant, but not in a comforting way. More the reminder that you could be squashed under foot at any moment.

"Yes well that's why I'm calling, sort of-"

"Speak up I can barely hear you."

You sigh deeply, trying to steady your voice. "I wanted to let you and Dad know that I got into that Master's program for the fall."

There is a loaded silence and then you hear your mother cover the phone and murmur. She’s probably telling your father. Finally her voice comes back over the line, crisp and abraisive.

"I hope you don't expect us to fund that daydream.”

You knew it was coming and yet it doesn't remove the sting entirely.

"Nope. I've got enough scholarships to cover it so far. Just need a part time job for extra expenses. I just wanted to tell...." You trail off.

You hear the sound of your father calling your mother's name in the background.

"Your father is tired, darling. He has to be awake early and the light from the phone is keeping him up. We'll see you at graduation."

The line goes dead and you throw your cell onto the bed angrily. You can't wait until fucking graduation is over and done with. You can't wait until you're parents are out of your life for another semester.

///

Sarah’s in class. Wanna chat a bit?

[HIM💜] Can’t baby. Tommy fucked up one of the orders and I gotta get it fixed quick.

The tone is sharp and you can hear his irritation flowing through the screen. You go to type out your response when another one of his comes through to the screen.

[HIM💜] I’ll give you a ring later tonight.

It’s final, resolute. He doesn’t have time for you right now and that’s totally fine… Except his words from earlier are echoing around in your brain. Eager to make up for lost time? Fuck yes you are. You can already feel arousal pooling between your lips.

In the months between spring break and now you’ve done your fair share of phone sex. Joel is remarkably adept at getting you off with only his voice, his words and the distant sound of his belt rasping against his zipper as he strokes himself.

You sent back racy photos every now and again, nothing too obscene for fear that Tess might see. Your face is never included for the same reason.

But right now you’re so fucking horny for him and you need to make him come for you. Probably because you know you shouldn’t bother him. It’s that bratty urge that pops its head out every once and again, urging you to push him, to test him, to make him want you, hard for you even when he shouldn’t.

You look at one of your packed boxes and are suddenly inspired. You pull the tabs open before reaching in and pulling out one of your packed winter items. The snowflake skirt. The skirt that tipped the scales in your relationship. You smile.

You shimmy out of your jeans, shirt and panties before pulling the skirt on and standing in front of the mirror. After a moments deliberation you remove your bra as well, giving yourself a once over and smiling in satisfaction.

You get onto the bed and begin to do a selection of seductive poses, aiming your camera, setting it on a timer and trying your best angles before deciding on a few that turn you on. Your first selection is the snowflake skirt hooked up over the globe of your ass. You’re leaned forward, presenting to the camera. The result is a peek of your glistening folds framed by your skirt on your pale pink sheets. Filthy.

You giggle just at the thought of sending these to Joel while he’s in the middle of work. Your fingers dance over the screen of your phone.

I miss you.

[HIM💜] I told you I was busy, baby.

You feel another bubble of laughter begin as your finger hovers over the selected thumbnail of your naked form. You toss over the idea in your head a moment before pressing send and waiting. His response is almost immediate.

[HIM💜] Are you insane? I’m at work.

I didn’t know you were gonna check your phone!

I was just sending it for later.

[HIM💜] Little liar.

Just missing you. You missing me?

[HIM💜] You know I am. Now stop it.

You can almost hear it in his growled timber.

You giggle before sorting through your remaining photos. You send him the one of you lying on your back, tits out and pussy wet and spread wantonly with your fingers. Your skirt is bunched up around your waist. Your eyes are half lidded looking up into the camera and you bite your lower lip. It's fucking debauched and you send it with a little thrill in your stomach.

He doesn’t reply right away and a part of you is worried that he’s not checked his phone. You wait a few moments before typing out your message to him, a small smirk on your face.

I'm so wet just Thinking about your cock. How good it felt. Wish you were fucking me right now.

[HIM💜] Quit it.

You shouldn’t be as turned on as you are, but you can’t help it. Your fingers begin to rub your clit in earnest, knowing that he’s looking at these photos at work. Knowing that he can’t just stroke his cock in his office. With your free hand you type shakily.

Wish I was sucking your cock under your desk, Mister Miller. Want you to fuck my mouth in the middle of work with people around. Wanna make you come down my throat.

[HIM💜] You like acting like a filthy little slut?

There’s the inherent menace of that statement combined with your arousal that sets the next action into motion. You press voice record and place the phone next to your head. Your breathing is heavy and labored. You imagine Joel in bed next to you, the smell of him, the way his beard rasped between your inner thighs. It’s not long before your groaning and coming hard on your fingers, whimpering his name.

With shaky breath you send the voice memo off and slip into a drowsy warmth. His response is delayed a few minutes, likely because he’s listening to it. The thought amuses and thrills you. Finally a beep sounds through.

[HIM💜] Two can play this game, baby.

///

He doesn’t call you that evening but you’re so busy with studying for finals you don’t really notice. It’s not until your morning lecture the next day that you get a text from him. Distracted you glance at the number and see his name. With a smile you assume it's a cute message and click it, shocked when you see the very obvious erection barely hidden in his boxers.

Your heart jumps and you glance behind you to ensure that the other classmates in your lecture hall haven’t seen. None of them glance your way; all are focused on the professor talking at the podium about your final exam next week.

WTF JOEL. I’m in class!

[HIM💜] Sorry baby. Just missing you.

He’s not sorry at all and you both know it.

You go red in the face before dashing out of your class and into the nearest bathroom. It's mercifully empty and you take the nearest stall. You open your messages and feel a giddy thrill go through you when you see he’s sent through a video.

There's a mixture of embarrassment, terror and thrilling excitement that goes through you at the sight. Joel sent you a dirty video. He's never done that. You can only assume it's payback from your texts yesterday and you couldn't be more delighted.

You lean back against the stall, not even feeling the cool metal because you’re so focused on your cell phone. With trembling fingers you pop your ear buds in and press play. Joel's husky baritone immediately floods your ears and you close your eyes.

"Those were some filthy fucking photos you sent me yesterday," his voice murmurs off screen, sleepy and rumbled. "And sending ‘em to me at work. Naughty girl. I was hard all fuckin’ day."

You smile gently to yourself at the thought of it. Joel stuck behind his desk, jeans tight as his erection pulses desperately. Your eyes open now and you see that he’s lifted his phone to point at his waist. He’s lying in bed, you recognize the sheets. He’s naked now, but he’s not pointing it at his cock yet.

"Don't know that you deserve this video at all," Joel teases and you watch his lower belly twitch. "You're lucky I like you so much."

That little comment thrills you. The camera points down, showing you the glistening head of his cock. Beads of pre-cum already dot it.

"Betcha wish you were licking this thick cock right now, aren't you my sweet little slut?"

His wide hand lazily strokes, making you whimper to yourself in the empty stall.

"This is your come baby," Joel mutters behind the camera. "Been saving it up all day. Thinking about you and t-that... Video we made. Watched it this mornin'."

He breaks off and you watch his wide hand start to jerk his cock more hurriedly, moving more towards the head you desperately wish you were licking.

"You looked so fucking good. T-that innocent way you looked up at me with my cock stuffed in your pretty mouth."

Your pussy is throbbing at this point, watching your sexy boyfriend jerk off for you while he babbles filth in that sexy twang of his.

"You like being my little slut, baby?" Joel croons. "Like knowing I'm carrying around that video? Watching you suck my cock anytime I want?"

Fuck yes you do.

"And you look so fucking eager for it," Joel breathes and you hear that familiar urgency in his voice as he nears his climax. "So desperate to swallow my cock... Tits painted.... Painted with my come."

You’re absolutely soaked, your nipples stiff peaks under your t-shirt. You want nothing more than to be on your knees in front of him, his cock in your mouth. This is pure torture.

“And then those f-fuckin’ photos,” Joel groans and it’s a debauched sound that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up. “That perfect fuckin’ pussy so wet for me. The way you’re.. touchin-“

Whatever he was about to say is lost in the garbled grunt of his orgasm. His hands stutter and then he comes in thick ropes spurting from between his knuckles, his moans ragged and broken from behind the screen

"All for you, baby, this come is all for you," he's rambling as he erupts. "All yours my good, good little slut."

And then the video ends. Another message has come through.

[HIM💜] Just a preview for next week. Have a great class, baby.

You stand in the stall panting and wet. You're so turned on its insane.

How the fuck are you supposed to last until graduation?