#it’s not even that the other two remind him of maria he’s just one of the girls | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ohraicodoll · 1 year

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Joel Miller x f!Reader The Last of Us 6.6k Words/ 3rd POV Feral Reader Masterlist Summary: She never paid attention to the newcomers when they joined Jackson until one of them begins to get close to Joel. Warning: Angst. Hurt/Comfort. Violence. Sexual Content. 18+ Minors DNI

She didn’t care when Jackson got new people. She wasn’t one of the regulars that crowded around the entrance, watching patrol bring them through, so similar to how they joined. No, she didn’t care because the rest of Jackson didn’t matter, just the two people she currently lived with. If it didn’t have to do with Joel and Ellie, she didn’t care. So it was at least a month before she met Harper, when she was added to their patrol duty.

The other women in town, the ones that frequently fawned over Joel Miller, were different from his companion and she knew that. Her insecurity frequently reminded her that she didn’t belong in Jackson with these women that still took the time to dress up and do their hair. But she had seen Joel downright ignore their flirting enough times, had heard him reassure her that wasn’t the type he was interested in. Someone to watch his back. With teeth, he had said. Harper had teeth. She was a good shot, wasn’t afraid to get her hands dirty, and never complained about the work. She got along well with Maria, with everyone really, able to get them to talk about their interests and lives easily and seemed like an open book. Harper helped with the horses and in the food hall and knew how to cook and how to clean a rifle properly. And to her dismay, as she watched the patrol party enter the gates where she definitely wasn’t waiting for the man she lived with, Harper could make Joel smile. Not a smirk or a condescending tilt of the lips, but an actual smile. She watched them dismount from the horses and the woman laughed at something Joel said, his lips curving into a grin, and her heart dropped in her stomach. Because she wasn’t sure the man had ever smiled like that around her. Easy and charming, relaxed. Suddenly she was the old version of herself, anxious and unsure, insecure in her own skin and embarrassed. All her faults and problems blared in her head alongside the echo of the threat hanging over her head. Assimilate or get kicked out of Jackson. She was on her last strike after three rough months of living there while this woman had shown up and fit in better than she ever could after only a month. Her nails dug into her thigh sharply, the small hints of pain trying to keep her grounded. She’d almost convinced herself to turn around and walk home, leave before Joel could see her standing there with all her defects, but then his eyes met hers. And if she didn’t feel awful enough, his smile dimmed a bit, became unsure and almost bashful. Like he didn’t want her to see it. She wondered if Harper had noticed his eyes were more hazel than brown when he was in a good mood. They both walked over to her and she stood there, stiff and stabbing into her own skin, wanting to bolt. Harper turned to her, light hair catching the sun and blue eyes glistening. Perfect and still pretty even after the world went to shit while she was very aware she hadn’t brushed her hair in three days. “Oh hi, I don’t think we’ve officially met,” she smiled sweetly, adjusting the rifle on her back and the bandana around her neck. Joel cleared his throat, nodding towards her and ignoring the furrowed brow that was permanently on her face around strangers, “Harper, this is Red. Red, Harper.” “I’ve heard so much about you. Red’s such an interesting name,” she smiled with a light chuckle though it wasn’t as wide as the one that had been aimed at Joel, her eyes roaming over her. Taking her measure. She only frowned and ignored her eye contact, staring at Joel’s shoulder instead. “It’s not my name,” the words were quiet but raspy, a growl. Harper’s smile tightened in the corner of her eye. The silence weighed between them, stifling, and Joel cleared his throat, “Harper happens to be from Austin. We frequented some of the same spots surprisingly.” The words were almost an explanation or an apology, or an excuse. She didn’t reply, eyes still solely focused on his shoulder and avoiding looking at either of them. Small talk was hard on most occasions but this seemed impossible. She wasn’t sure how she should reply to that. Congrats? Good job finding another person you could easily talk to besides me? She chewed the inside of her lip, feeling uncomfortable and desperately wanting to run, words stuck until she nodded and spit out, “I’ll see you at the house later.” His brow had furrowed when she swiveled on her heel and started walking down the street, rigid and feeling the small welts of blood seeping into her jeans from her nails. ___________________ It wasn’t long before she started seeing Harper everywhere and she grit her teeth every time.

When she walked into the bar, the location on her list of places to search for Ellie, she found Joel and Tommy chatting with the woman at the bar top. She was talking rapidly, a smile on her face and hands waving as she told some story. A hand talker. Tommy was behind the bar, leaning on it and seeming enraptured by the conversation while Joel was standing with his elbow resting on the counter, body fully turned to face Harper. All three chuckled at something and she watched as her hand landed on Joel’s arm, staying there a few seconds too long before sliding off. Too lingering to be innocent. She wanted to snap her teeth at her, go up to them and put her hand on his back or in his belt loops, a move he’d done so often to her. Push him against the countertop and take his mouth with hers or even straight grab Harper’s perfect hair and slam her face against the table. A million images flashed through her head only to come to a halt at remembering her predicament. Joel’s urges to try to join the community or risk getting kicked out. She knew she was a fine thread away from getting booted. One wrong step out the door and probably bashing in perfect new girl Harper’s face would do the trick faster than she could blink. So instead she pivoted, snarl in her throat, and walked out the bar. Harper became a regular on Joel’s shift. She only worked with the newcomer a couple times. She was good and that irritated her. The woman was a survivor and knew how to handle herself and watch out for others. All the things she usually found lacking in the townspeople and hated, Harper had that and more. She didn’t know what to do with that knowledge and the growing list of the woman’s skills. They’d been scouting out a small location, a couple of cabins a few hours away from Jackson. She’d rode to the far side of them and gotten off, checking the houses for anyone hiding out or seeing if there was anything good to scavenge. When she heard the sound of glass shattering and heavy thumps a few houses down, voices crying out, her heart almost pounded out of her chest. That’s where Joel had been checking. She’d ran fast, bow out, feet carrying her quicker than she’d ever run before on the muddy Spring ground. Previous moments flashed in her mind. Too many close calls. Joel’s blood on her hands from a stab wound. Joel hurt. But the action was already over as she barreled into the room. A Clicker lay bleeding out on the floor, a large hatchet stuck in the fungi petals of its face, mouth in a grotesque scream. Joel was panting on the floor with his back against the corner, pistol in hand unfired, while Harper stood over the infected triumphant. With a grin, she ripped the hatchet from its head and walked over to Joel, offering him a hand. She felt useless. Harper had his back. Teeth. _____________________________ Tommy had finally found her a job she was actually fairly decent at, after being taken off both kitchen and farming duty, but noticing she seemed calmest with animals. People didn’t want to work with her and in her mind that was fine, but in Maria’s it made her a problem. But she liked the dog kennels. They weren’t unlike her. She could understand their wants and needs, their habits and what they deemed their territory. Training them wasn’t easy but it was rewarding and it came with the added benefit that she was around the animals more often than people. She didn’t have to be talkative or put on a mask. They knew hand signs, could read her feelings and what she wanted. It felt comfortable to be with them. Often in the morning she would go and feed the dogs, go over their exercises, walk them in the outside yard they had set aside behind the kennels. Ellie had fallen in love with them as well and sometimes would tag along, was even there when one of the dogs gave birth. She’d been grossed out initially but once the blood and the goo and all the disgusting parts of birth was over and done with she held the small puppies in her hands and helped them find spots to feed. Joel had come a few times, watched them with arms resting on the pen door as they sat in the hay and held the tiny jelly bean puppies. Ellie had grinned, taking over naming duty, and had even held one up forcing Joel to name one. He’d frowned, shrugging at the little brown squirming blob, scratching at his beard, “I don’t know, Brownie?” “Really?” Ellie scoffed, rolling her eyes, “So original. Naming it after its color.” “You named me after my shirt,” she chuckled, raising an eyebrow at the teenager. Those first few days when she hadn’t known how to interact but knew she had to make sure the girl was safe. Unwilling to give any piece of herself, especially her name. So Ellie had formed a piece from the rubble and taken it for herself. Ellie huffed with a sniff, nose turning up, and ignored the dig, “Whatever, Red suited you.” She held the squirming puppies in her lap, watching them seek warmth while holding a small container of sugared ice for the mama to lick and enjoy after pushing out ten little bodies, “Good thing I wasn’t wearing a different colored shirt.” Joel’s eyes were on her and she looked up at him, finding him watching her with the slightest tilt of his lips. She knew he was worried about her, had already been fighting tooth and nail with his brother and his pregnant wife over her position. He was working harder to help her than Ellie who had adjusted quickly. This was the one job inside of Jackson’s walls she was relaxed in and she could feel him taking in the way she seemed at ease. The smile grew, warming. “Did Maggie have the pups?” a familiar voice rang out. The smile vanished and she stiffened.

The kennels had been converted from one of the old stables, the dogs held in old horse stalls on either side of the room. She couldn’t see the woman from her position on the floor, the walls of the stall blocking the view, but she knew it was Harper that had walked in. She came up to Joel’s side, almost touching shoulders, and looked down at her and Ellie with the pups and Maggie. “Oh, hi Red,” Harper’s smile became a bit tighter, head tilting, “I didn’t realize you were the one taking care of her.” She didn’t answer, averting her gaze to Maggie and adjusting the bowl for her to lick. Ellie answered instead, enthusiastically holding the puppy up in her hand, “She takes care of the dogs now! Joel named this one.” The man frowned almost bashfully, shrugging, “It’s Brownie.” Harper laughed and her dimples showed, head quirking as she looked at him, “That’s adorable.” She couldn’t get up and leave with the puppies all around her and both Joel and Harper leaning on the pen door. She was trapped, listening to them chat and laugh and Ellie showing off all the dogs while she sat there and tried to be invisible. She wanted to scream, rage, do something other than be meek and small. It was like every time the woman showed up, the version of her from two decades before took over her skin. The girl who had been shy and timid and didn’t know how to fight back. She wanted to scream at her to do something, say something, snarl at Harper that if she touched Joel one more fucking time she’d break her wrist and shove it down her throat. Instead, she sat there, listening to Ellie talk to her easily and Joel’s soft musings, the three of them getting along better than she ever did. Try. Try. Joel’s pleas haunted her constantly. She was trying. God, was she fucking trying so hard. But this wasn’t an instance like with Grant who had touched her and paid the price or his fucking brother who had sneered in her face and called her a bitch. She could argue those were justified. She could have done worse to them and didn’t. But the problem was Harper hadn’t done anything wrong to her. She hadn’t been mean, she hadn’t touched her, hadn’t done anything but make her feel small in comparison to her presence. There was no reason to fight her, to twist her pretty locks in her fingers and smash her face in until the strands turned red and she was nothing but a cavernous hole. She hated settlement life. She hated the fucking politics of it all, the dance to be respectable. Before, there was no time to worry about feelings or what her and Joel were, how he felt towards her, what her role was in their complicated mess of a relationship. It had moved beyond just sex, but she wasn’t sure what exactly. They’d gone through hell together. Maybe it was that she happened to be there, a place holder to fulfill all he needed while taking care of Ellie, but now he had options. There were other women that could fill that place. Could be a better guardian to Ellie, could take care of Joel, could watch both of their backs. One that didn’t cause problems or that he had to jump to defend or cause Ellie to yell at gawking strangers on her behalf. She tried not to focus on it. Swallowed it down deep in the pit of her stomach and refocused back on the things that mattered, which were caring for Joel and Ellie.

She tried not to think about it when later that evening when they’d gone to bed he pulled her into his body, hands roaming over her soft belly before gripping her tightly and pushing his hard length against her backside. She tried not to think when his fingers slipped inside of her, pumping in and out as his other hand squeezed her tit and pinched her nipped. Tried not to think if he was pushing into her from behind because he was imagining someone else’s face. The confusion turned to a twisted sort of pain and hurt and rage that needed an outlet. Defiance against her situation. She couldn’t do anything outside the walls of their house and her frustration was tearing her up. She was a fox with its foot caught in a trap, snapping and snarling at whatever she could but unable to do anything. She pulled away, feeling him slip out of her, and shoved him onto his back. Joel let out a small grunt at the hard push, but she didn’t care as she climbed on top of him, watching the small bit of confusion in his eyes. He knew something was off, but didn’t stop her. Let her take what she needed. She had to feel some ounce of control. So she rode him hard, nothing gentle to the way she rose and fell on him, sweat coating her skin and panting. There was no rhythm to it, only primal need and hurt carrying her movements. He sat up, brows furrowed and not keen on the distance of laying back, the angle changing enough she groaned. His hand caressed her neck softly in contrast to her harsh movements and the small tattooed stars on her collarbone he was always infatuated with. Almost as if he was trying to bring that version of her back to herself. But she didn’t want that. She didn’t want to give him an ounce of control over her, show him he could affect her at all. Because that meant someone else had the power to hurt her. Twisting her fingers in his curls tightly, she crushed her lips to his to avoid his searching eyes, swallowing every sound he made from the pleasure of their jutting hips. Her nails scraped along his scalp and into his shoulder hard enough she knew there would be red lines in the morning. He was letting himself be distracted, giving in, snapping his hips into hers equally rough with arms a tight band around her middle and holding her to his chest. They were wrapped around each other. For once there wasn’t the coaxing sound of his urgings as he drew her moans from her usually quiet throat, his praise at how good she was for him and how she felt. He was silent in the face of her aggression and she wasn’t sure how to feel, trying desperately to chase that control and release of her emotions. Her lips left his swollen and bruised and she pressed open mouth kisses onto the hard muscle of his shoulder as the pace became a mess. It wasn’t about her orgasm at that moment. She wanted to make him come, drag it from him like a trophy. Show him exactly what she could do to him. And when he did find his release, the hot spend of his arousal filling her, she bit down hard into the skin of his neck making him groan harder and dig his fingers into her skin. He tasted like sweat and salt and the earthy air from working outside. She didn’t come, didn’t mention it or even want it, only held him tightly as he came down from the high and slid his hand over her naked back. His grip was a little harder and she kept her face tucked into his neck when he tried to meet her eyes. They went to bed without any discussion, him holding her to his chest while her eyes stared into the darkness longer, listening to his breaths. The sound of knocking in the early morning woke them up. She heard Joel curse and throw on pants and a flannel, not bothering to button it up before lumbering down the stairs. Sleep beckoned to pull her back under, breasts pressed into the cool sheets and covers slid down from Joel leaving. It was usually Tommy, up early and taking care of things or letting him know of any problems. But she paused at the distinctly female voice she heard. A few minutes later Joel came back into the room and began to dress fully. She bit her lip, watching him from where her face was shoved into the pillow, brows furrowed. Boots, jacket, holster, gun. Everything signs he was leaving the walls. He looked at her after snapping in his gun and paused when he noticed she was awake and staring, two large unblinking eyes watching him from behind her arms. Joel hesitated in the darkness, contemplating, almost guilty. It was supposed to be his day off. Yet here he was, racing off. “Harper said one of the guys is sick and they’re short one so I’m gonna go help out with morning patrol,” he explained and nodded to himself, thumbs in his belt. A reasonable excuse. She wondered if he hadn’t noticed she was awake would he have left without telling her? But still, she said nothing and tucked her face back into the pillow, exhausted and a little sad and drowning in her own deteriorating self-esteem and doubt. A few moments later, she ignored the trail of his fingers on her naked back, soft and apologetic, before he left the room. Most of the time it was Tommy asking him to fill in. He didn’t say yes often and would tell him to shove it before going back to their bed. But Harper had asked this time and she felt her hackles raise at the fact she’d come to their house. To ask him specifically. And he’s been quick to say yes.

These feelings weren’t something she knew how to process or handle. Who the fuck handled being jealous of all things in the apocalypse? It was ridiculous, but settling in Jackson had allowed those things to creep in. She became aware of all she lacked and all she couldn’t handle and how other people didn’t have the same issues as her. She let her instincts guide her. The kennels became her home. She knew when Joel was home and avoided him, knowing that if she didn’t see him with Harper then it wouldn’t hurt as much versus death by a thousand cuts. She knew better than to try and sleep in the downstairs room, he’d only find her and yell at her to go upstairs, so she went to bed early or late. Asleep before he would show up or waiting until he was sleeping himself. Ellie followed her around when she wasn’t going to classes or helping out where she could. The girl never asked directly what was wrong, but she knew something was up. There was worry in her eyes and she would ask for help with inane tasks, trying to lure her home like luring a frightened dog home with a treat. She didn’t want to worry or hurt her, but the feelings were choking her and she didn’t know how to cope. Some nights, she missed her sister and having someone to walk her through it all. Annie had been so much smarter than her despite her young age. She understood the world better, was sassy like Ellie, and could read people so well. Unlike her who was gullible back then and immensely naive, unsure and anxious constantly. Book smart, but not much else. But Annie was gone along with that version of her.

Sometimes she’d feel Joel inching closer to her in the bed, hands ghosting over her shoulder or brushing through her hair when he thought she was asleep. His lips brushing her skin. Never pushing, far too patient.

When he left for morning patrol, she pretended to stay asleep. Harper would be in his group and when that happened, she liked to wait outside the house for him. The kennels welcomed her and she spent time with each dog, shoving her face into their necks and running her hands over their fluffy coats. She checked on the puppies and weighed them all, walking Maggie so she could get a break from the squirming things. She even spent time with the older dogs, taken off duty, making sure they got attention and massaged their joints and hugged them in her lap. Her brain made backup plans. If Joel asked her to leave the house, she could set up a cot in the kennels and stay there. There was even a small converted garage she could live in if she needed to. If they asked her to leave, she could go north and stay within distance enough she could visit Ellie often enough. Maybe set up a radio code similar to what Joel had told her about their friends Bill and Frank so she could set meet up spots. The latter was more likely. People only put up with her because of Joel and if he chose Harper then there wasn’t any reason to keep her in Jackson to them. Ellie would have guardians, she wasn’t necessary.

Hours passed while she cared for the dogs. She skipped breakfast and lunch, choosing instead to spend time training them or napping with the senior dogs in their pens.

It was mid-day when the doors opened and she heard footsteps enter. They weren’t familiar and her body stiffened instantly, shutting the pen door behind her as she exited Maggie’s enclosure. Sometimes it was one of the patrols, coming to switch out the dogs, but they didn’t always take them out unless someone was spotted and none had been taken that day. Her heart thudded even louder when she saw who it was, Harper’s smile a little too tight as she made eye contact. In all the times since the newcomer had joined Jackson, she’d never been alone with the woman. Now she didn’t like the lack of a buffer, the way her focus took in every inch of her. But in the same way, the cracks in her mask were showing. What had seemed gentle in the lines of her face were now condescending, mocking, ingenuine. Her lips were stretched thin in almost a sneer and those blue eyes were hard. Oh. She could see the game then, the cunning analyzing way this woman looked at her. She was right. Harper was a survivor, was so very smart, and was also willing to do whatever to get her way. You don’t survive this long by being sweet and kind and caring. You had to be ugly sometimes, but Harper had gotten good at hiding that ugliness from the right people. There was no reason to hide it from her though.

The woman stepped further in and walked towards her languidly, trailing her hands along the stable doors. Her exit was cut off, having to move around the woman to leave, and she began to see the situation for what it was. A standoff. A fight. Her teeth were grinding, nails sinking into her palm if only to inflict some kind of violence to keep herself in check.

Harper smiled, faux kindness painted on her lips, “They told me about you, warned me to be careful around you, and all the problems you’ve been having. They told me how you’re on your last leg here.” She paused and the smile widened, “You should just go and save everyone the trouble. Ellie’s doing great here and from what Joel has told me, he’s enjoying having his brother back and this new settlement life. If you really care about them, you’d realize you’re holding them back.”

Her blood was boiling, rage roaring through her head at Harper’s gall to mention her people, and she growled, “And you’re so worried about them, right? Concerned citizen?”

“Joel has been through a lot,” Harper spat out and she wanted to snap her teeth as if she didn’t fucking know, “He shouldn’t have to worry about some woman messing things up and getting them kicked out.” Some woman, as if that was all she was. The words were spit out of her mouth like they were covered in grime and blood. She didn’t even bother to hide what she meant. The words were all there, the implication that the man had opened up to her, told her about his life and what they’d been through, and his feelings regarding this new chapter. Things he hadn’t told her yet, too busy trying to douse fires and help her get settled.

Cleaning up her messes.

With a clenched jaw, holding in the hurt and the anger to keep from showing the damage, she bent down and grabbed her bag to try and leave. There was no winning in this sense because she was right and she’d never been good with words. Better to get out of there, go somewhere else before the damage took hold and would start to fester, “Your concern is noted.” Moving to go around her and leave, Harper stepped in her path, shoulders straight and spine rigid with her chest puffed out, “It’s not just for them. This is a civilized place.” And you’re not that went unsaid, “Why don’t you do everyone a favor and go? They’ll be fine and happy. No one has to worry if you’re gonna freak out and kill someone and you can finally roam the forests and be back home.”

She was so close she could smell the trees and wind on her, the slight hint of sweat from the horse. Too close. Close enough she could wrap her teeth into her flesh and bite and rip. Too tempting.

“Or you can get the fuck out of my face?” she hissed with her teeth bared. It was all rising, the urge to hurt her. She’d hurt so many people for less and it would feel so good to break her knuckles open on her mouth, to hear the cartilage in her nose crack. But her smile turned smug and she only pressed in, almost chest to chest, and using her few inches of height to look down at her, “Or what? What can you do? They’ll kick you out and do you really think Joel would be on your side if you hurt me?” That made her hesitate. Because she wasn’t sure. With the other women, the men and their obvious disdain for her, yes he would defend her. But this new person who was like a merging of all he liked? Tough but good with people and pretty and able to hold her own, someone he trusted at his back. Would he defend her? Harper sensed that hesitation and, before she could blink, took advantage and shoved her back. She stumbled, losing ground, so aware she was trapped. The fox with its leg in a noose, all over again. Fighting would give her exactly what she wanted. Not fighting back made her weak, someone to trample on. Someone too weak to live.

“Come on. Settlement life make you lose your bite or are the rumors hot air?” Harper hissed and shoved her again. Her instincts were screaming to fight, to shove her back, grab her knife, or use her fists. Beat her teeth in and make her swallow each one to the point she could only eat soup until she choked on it. But that hanging threat was there like a guillotine, Tommy’s voice saying Maria was considering kicking her out.

Joel asking her to try.

So she did nothing. She clenched her fists and bit her tongue until blood coated it. And when Harper threw a punch, snapping her head to the side, she still did nothing.

Shame and anger and resentment bloomed in her chest and the small taste of blood grew until she could feel a steady trickle down her throat as her nose took the brunt of the damage. She’d killed so many people for simply touching something of hers, looking at her, had done awful things to protect herself and her two people, and yet she would take this if it meant keeping them safe and happy. But it felt so much like losing to just let it happen.

“Can’t do anything, can you?” Harper chuckled, “They don’t need you, ya know that? You’re baggage. Joel and Ellie’s lives would be so much easier without you dragging them down-” “The fuck you just say to her?” The moment the deep voice snarled through the kennel, she saw Harper freeze. It came from the open doorway and she watched as the sneer on her face morphed into surprise and then tried to turn soft, apologetic. Fake. They both turned and watched as Joel entered the kennel, lips twisted into a hard frown and brow shading his eyes. He was looking at the woman differently now. Like an outsider or a threat. She could see the subtle fear and discomfort swim to the surface under that gaze. The game was up. Mask invisible. “Joel-” “Not another word. You shut your fucking mouth,” he snarled and Harper shrunk in response. She watched it all with a disconnect, feeling the blood slide down her lips and into her mouth. There was no relief at his appearance. Shame was still a heavy blanket on her shoulders at him finding her cowed.

With a gulp, Harper’s gaze swung between the two and she slid away, scurrying around him and towards the exit. But not before he called out, “If you say a goddamn word to her ever again, I’ll let her finish what you started and swear before the whole town that you deserved every bit of what she does to you. I’ll make sure she doesn’t get punished for a single fucking thing.” The threat was there but not from him. No, even catching them with her own blood smeared across her face, he knew she could do the damage herself unrestrained and untethered. That this moment was a special circumstance because what she could do was far worse than what he would. Harper ran and didn’t look back. Silence took over between them, tension thick enough the dogs whined and pawed at their pen doors. She stood stiff and unmoving, eyes not meeting his but looking off into the darkness. He was the first to break the silence. “Why didn’t you fight back?” Joel asked, a growl still in his voice but not towards her. She smiled humorlessly, hands on her hips and staring down at the door floor. Her blood was speckled on the ground, “Because I’m trying.”

Joel scoffed and stepped more into the room, grabbing her chin until she looked up at him. From his back pocket, he pulled out a rag and gently began to wipe the blood from her face, “Trying to do what? Be a punching bag?” Blood was in her throat when she swallowed, heart beating a little louder at his touch, but she continued to avoid his gaze, “Integrate.” He paused at the word, his thumb rubbing the edge of her jaw compulsively. Then his grip tightened and he turned her forcefully to meet his gaze. Joel’s eyes were hard and lips pressed thin with anger but also regret and frustration, “I don’t give a shit if we’re integrating or whatever. Someone gives you shit, lays a hand on you, fuck even makes you feel like you don’t belong with us then you knock their fucking teeth in.” She swallowed as he all but snarled the words at her, his fingers so tight on her skin, but he continued, “Settling down here doesn’t mean I want you to become a doormat and I’ll argue with Maria until I’m fucking blue over that. They start shit? Then you sure as fuck finish it.” Her teeth clenched and she felt the sharp coppery tang of the blood still in her mouth, “They’ll kick me out-” “No, they won’t,” he hissed angrily, “I fucking mean it, Red. I don’t want you softening for our sake if it means people try to make you feel like shit. Your place is here with us. No one is going to get between us, I can assure you that.” “She wasn’t wrong,” she replied softly as if saying it out loud was exposing an open nerve, exposing her insecurity to him, “I’m baggage. She could take care of herself and you and Ellie. She can cook and watch your back and gets along with people. I can’t do that-” “Stop,” he ground out, “I’m not that easy. Jesus, I’m not going to chase after the first woman that can hold a gun and make me a fucking pie.” Despite his hard words, he still gently wiped her face clean, taking such care in checking her over and making sure she was okay. It was almost too much, “Give yourself some credit, Starshine-” “You spent a lot of time with her,” the words were like ripping open her skin, bitter and stupid and raw as they spilled out of the wound, “She’s…from Austin and…you laughed and smiled with her. You just seemed happier around her.” Joel paused and pulled back a little to fully take in her expression and what was at play. She could see the moment he saw her, really saw her no matter how hard she was trying to hide her feelings. The insecurity. The jealousy. Everything she had struggled with. He chewed his lip and nodded, brow furrowing a bit harder, “I’m sorry I didn’t realize what she wanted or how she was making you feel. But you’re fucking stupid if you think I wouldn’t turn her ass down in a second.” The words weren’t gentle or soft, but they were said as a fact. The simplest fact that Joel would never choose Harper. That he wasn’t actively pursuing that. And it worked. She felt the tightness in her shoulders ease a bit as he pulled her forward into his embrace, pressing a kiss against her forehead. Her fingers dug into his back, gripping the worn denim fabric of his shirt tightly and she couldn’t help but sigh into his embrace. Home. It felt like home and comfort and everything she had felt she was missing. Breathing him in, she mumbled against his chest, “She’s probably going to complain next time you have patrol with her.” “She’s not going to be on patrol with me,” he murmured into her ear, pulling back to sweep her messy hair behind her ears, “I’m gonna make sure she works exactly where she belongs. On shit duty.” “You don’t have to. You don’t have to come to my rescue,” she argued albeit weakly. “Oh I’m not,” Joel chuckled, lips turning up into a smirk, “This is all for me. No one insults what’s mine.” She looked at him, brow furrowed at the words, mind trying to process them. But she didn’t get very far before his lips were on hers, kissing her hard and tugging her back flush against his body so she could feel exactly how much he wanted her. Her nails dug into his skin, teeth tugging on his bottom lip, while his hands kneaded the soft curves of her ass, pressing the hard front of his jeans into her stomach. He groaned into her mouth and pulled away enough to speak against her lips, grip on her still tight, “Let’s get back home so I can fuck you so hard you’ll stop doubting yourself.” She chuckled, wanting to argue that that was a hard promise to keep, but he was already dragging her out of the kennels and into the darkening streets as the sun began to lower. True to his word, Harper found herself with a brand new post going forward. Tommy didn’t mention the reason why to her, didn’t pull her aside and question her over what happened. Ellie didn’t even mention her bruised nose. Whatever Joel had told them was enough. The woman went out of her way to avoid going anywhere near any of them going forward, even straight turning in the opposite direction when she saw them and eventually coming off patrol duty all together. She tried not to feel satisfied at that. Tried not to feel more at ease or proud of herself when Maria told her she was doing a damn good job with the kennels and asked if she wanted to take on more duties, almost cementing that she wasn’t going to be asked to leave. Joel and Ellie did that for her, celebrating every small win and reminding her exactly where she belonged. With them. _________________________________________ Taglist: @alouise20 @faceache111 @hawsx3 @taxidriversainz @iluvbunnyhops @mrfitzdarcyslover @emlovesya @agent007knight @spaacerabbit @namgification @wonwoosthetic @wxnderingthoughts @sagggy @escaping-reality8

#joel miller x reader #Joel Miller x Feral Reader #Joel Miller x oc #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fanfic #tlou fanfic #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller imagine #tlou #the last of us #feral reader #raicodoll writes #series: feral

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sinofwriting · 21 days

Text

So Many Reasons - Ollie Bearman

Words: 3,343 Summary: She honestly just wants to go to these two races to see her brother so he won’t complain about never seeing her anymore that is it. She has exams, an internship, and a job, she doesn’t have time for any of this. Note(s): Thank you V once again for commissioning the fic! I had a lot of fun writing it and may or may not have spent an hour researching different business degrees and universities and such. Reader is Andrea Kimi Antonelli’s older sister. Age gap of 3 years between her and Ollie. Not good family dynamics between her and Kimi and their father.

Taglist | Masterlist | Emergency Dental Fund

“Andrea, no.” Her voice is firm, perhaps harsh but she doesn’t care. She was tired, hungry, and had to stay up for at least another six hours. Her last red bull in her bag sounded better every second. “C’mon, sorella. It is my first F2 race. You can miss a few classes.” Her jaw clenches and she forces herself to take a deep breath. Thank god this was just a phone call. “No, Andrea. I can’t. I have exams.” “Ask for an extension.” “Andrea,” she snaps. “Does padre know you are asking me this?” His voice is quiet, “no.” She sighs, pushing away her work. “How is your school work going?” “It’s fine.” “And the sim?” “Good.”

It’s quiet between the two siblings.

“It’s been months since we last saw each other. Do you not miss me?” “We saw each other at Christmas.” She reminds him but softens. “Of course I do. But I’m busy. I can’t take a few days away to go to a race, at least not one that’s not in Europe.” She looks at her planner, at the days blocked out with different colors. Purple for exams, blue for classes, yellow for work, green for work and classes, the dreaded orange for when she had both exams and work. It was filled for days, weeks, and months. “I could maybe make it for Imola.” She’d have to talk to her professors, put in her time now for work, but she didn’t have any exams the day after his feature race. “Maybe even Monaco if you can get me a spare pass.” She shouldn’t go to Monaco, not with her final exams to obtain her MBA starting just the day after the race, but she didn’t have any work those days and she could always bring her books with her. “Really?” She smiles at the excitement in his voice. “Really. Are you sure you want your big sister around?” “Yes. It will be nice to have family in the paddock. Someone other than dad.” She hums, eyes widening as they catch the time. “Let me know about the passes for the different races, okay? As soon as you get them I’ll talk to my professors.” “I will.” “Bye Andrea.” “Bye.”

—

“Mr. Garcia?” She knocks on the door frame. “You asked to see me?” He smiles, beckoning her in. “Yes. Please sit.” He gestures at the chairs in front of his desk before quickly typing something. She sits down, smoothing the fabric of her skirt. “I wanted to talk to you about your plans after you get your MBA.” “I’d like to get a travel position or be able to work remotely half of the time. Then I think after ten years of doing that, I’d like to take a bigger account or two.” He hums, looking at her consideringly. “Why the travel position?” “I like traveling, going to different places, and when I went once before with Maria, I liked what she had to do.” “You're also good with languages.” “Yes.” “And the hybrid?” She fidgets a little. “The same reasons really as the travel position and I like the extended hours.” His lips twitch into a smile, “Maria hated remote.” She nods.

“She said you’d be suited for it.” Her leg that had started to bounce stops. He leans forward, “I’d like to keep you on. I know that your internship with Maria ends the first week of May. And that you’re only supposed to continue to work with us until August. But I’d like to offer you the remote position, starting June 20th.” She looks at him with a slight open mouth. “What,” she clears her throat. “What exactly would that look like?” He pushes forward a folder. “All of the details are in there, but there are two important things. There will only be a few days every month that require you in the office. Those days are always made known at least two weeks in advance, some as much as six months.” She nods. “The second is you will have strict deadlines. Miss two within a three month period and you will be on probation, meaning that for a time you will be spending at least eighty hours in office for the month, until your probation is up. Look over all the details and get back to me next week.” “Of course.” Taking the folder, she stares at it before standing. “Thank you, Mr. Garcia.” “Of course, Ms. Antonelli.”

—

“Andrea!” She calls, seeing him looking around. His head turns to look at her, a large grin taking over his face. “Sorella!” He calls, jogging over to her. “You made it.” She rolls her eyes, pushing him away when he tries to give her a hug. “I told you two weeks ago I’d make it to Imola. It’s not my fault, you don’t listen.” She touches her ears before giving him a quick hug. “How are you feeling?” “Good.” She hums, following him as he leads her to what she assumes is Prema’s space for this race.

The good was false that was more than clear to see, if she wasn’t his sister, she’d know just by looking at the F2 races so far. Round four with no podiums? Or pole position. Her brother was surely smarting. She wondered if it had hit him yet that he wasn’t the most talented driver in this series yet.

Entering the Prema garage she smiles when Rene immediately greets her.

“How are you?” “I’m good. Very good. How are you? How is Angelina?” “I am good, I’m sure you saw the Indycar news.” She nods, watching as Andrea starts talking to either a mechanic or an engineer. “I did. It sounds amazing.” “Very amazing. And Angelina, well,” He pauses, turning his head and calling her over.

“Oh, Y/N.” “Angelina.” She greets back, melting into the hug the older woman gives. “How are you doing?” “I’m doing good. And you are well?” “Of course, it is the season.” She smiles at her, knowing all too well how much everyone loved the motorsport season.

“Kimi!” Angelina calls and she has to stop herself from flinching at the use of his nickname. “You did not tell me that your sister was coming.” He shrugs, “She’s coming next race as well.” “You are coming to Monaco?” She shrugs, adjusting her purse. “It’s my last free time before my exams and Andrea asked when I was going to come.” Rene and Angelina share a look but before either can say anything, someone interrupts.

“Angelina, Dino and Antonio are wondering about the next shoot.” The older woman sighs, “And neither of them could get me themselves.” He shoots her a grin, and it’s the sight of his grin that makes her realize that this is Andrea’s teammate. “I volunteered.” Angelina shakes her head, muttering under her breath but leaves the small group.

“Ah, Ollie, this Y/N. Y/N, this is Ollie.” Rene introduces. She shakes his hand. “Nice to meet you.” “You as well. Are you new to the team?” “No.” She laughs, pulling her hand from his. “Just a guest for this race and next.” “Oh.” He looks at Rene questioningly, but the older man is already in conversation with other people. “I could give you a tour, if you’d like.” “You don’t need to do that.” He smiles, giving a small shrug with his shoulders. “I don’t mind.” “Don’t you have race prep?” She can see just behind him, Andrea talking to another two people, their heads all gathered around a tablet. “I finished mine already.” Her lips purse. “At least let me get you a coffee from Ferrari’s hospitality.” Her nose nearly wrinkles at the word coffee, but Ferrari… She wasn’t into motorsports by choice, but she was Italian. She knew the allure of Ferrari and more so now Charles Leclerc than the team itself better than anyone. “So, coffee?” He grins. She sighs but nods. “Just one though.” She doesn’t think she could stomach another one.

“You don’t like coffee do you?” He asks nearly twenty minutes later as she sips at the coffee he got her and she chooses not to think too hard about the money she tried to hand him that he refused. “No.” She laughs. “But you like Ferrari.” “I’m Italian, Ollie. I think I get kicked out of the country, especially this part if I don’t bleed rosso corsa.” “Yet your brother is a Mercedes junior.” She pauses, “My brother?” His eyebrows furrow. “I’m sorry, it’s just Kimi, he has a picture of you. I asked about it once, because I already knew what his girlfriend looked like.” “I didn’t know that.” She wondered when the picture was from. Not from this Christmas, that was for sure. Ollie stares at her for a few seconds, something dancing in his eyes before turning the conversation back around. “It is a bit funny isn’t it? An Italian choosing Mercedes, while an Englishman chooses Ferrari.” “A second Charles Leclerc in the making.” She muses, remembering an article that said it. He flushes red. “I wouldn’t say that.” She shrugs, “Then other people will for you.”

Her phone buzzing makes her look away and she rolls her eyes at the text from Andrea. “I have to go back, Andrea is looking for me. Thank you for the coffee.” He nods, standing with her. “No problem.” He then opens his mouth again, quickly closing it. She raises an eyebrow and he flushes a bit more. “Could I get your number?” “Ah.” She glances down at her phone, another text on the screen. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” “Why not?” She can think of a million reasons. “It’s just not a good idea.” She settles on. “What if I want it as a friend?” She sends him a look and he grins. “I could do friends.” She shakes her head, “I need to go. Thank you again.” “Anytime.”

—

“You're at a race.” “Padre.” She greets, watching the screens as the sprint race goes into its fifth lap. “Andrea asked me to come.” “You don’t like races.” Her lips thin. “No, I don’t. But he wanted to see me, I made time.” “Have you made time for the interview I want scheduled?” “No.” He starts to say her name and she shakes her head. “No, padre. I’m here for Andrea, to see him. Just like I will be for Monaco, that is it. I have no interest in working for you.” “For the family.” “Or that.” He sighs.

Crossing her arms over her chest, she winces at the way Andrea gets overtaken, can already imagine the way he’ll beat himself up over it if he doesn’t regain the position, especially with the way Ollie is in P2, no battle in sight, as he more than comfortably keeps the place.

An arm wraps around her shoulders and she easily goes into her fathers side. “I miss my little girl.” She bites back on the words that want to crawl from her throat. “Love you too.”

—

“So,” she startles at the sound of a voice and the owner of it grins. “You don’t like coffee.” “Hello, Ollie.” “Hi.” He greets back. “You don’t like coffee.” He repeats. “I don’t like coffee.” She can’t help but smile at the way he grins at her responding to him. “What about,” he pauses looking around, before leaning closer and lowering his voice. “Red bull?” “I’m listening.”

She has to stop herself from giggling as Ollie leads her through Ferrari’s garage. She really shouldn’t be here. And not just because she shouldn’t even be at the race.

Stopping in front of a door, she watches as Ollie knocks, sending her a grin as he does.

“Hello?” The voice is a little confused. “Ollie! Come in, come in.” And Ollie grabs her hand, intertwining their fingers as he pulls her into the room with him. “Hi Charles.” Her eyes widen at the name and she quickly schools her expression though neither are looking at her. “What are you doing here?” Ollie grins at the older man. “I wanted to introduce you to someone and raid your fridge.” Charles rolls his eyes. “At least you don’t ask permission anymore.”

The tease makes her stiffen, this was a lot more than she felt she should be seeing or hearing.

“No, I learned.” Ollie laughs and then he’s tugging her closer. “Charles, this is Y/N.” A bit of tension leaves her when he doesn’t say her last name. “Y/N, this is Charles.” “Bonjour.” She greets, keeping her free hand firmly by her side as she wiggles her fingers in Ollie’s hand, but he just brushes his thumb over her knuckles. Charles’ eyes brighten at the greeting. “Bonjour. Est-ce un accent italien que j'entends?” (“Hello. Is that an Italian accent I hear?”) “Oui. Je suis italienne et je vis actuellement en France.” (“Yes. I am Italian currently living in France.) His grin widens. “Oh, très bien. Votre français est bon.” (“Oh, very nice. Your French is good.”) She ducks her head. “Merci.” (“Thank you.”)

“I didn’t know you spoke French.” Ollie says. She gives him a look. It should make his smile falter a little, but it only grows. “An Italian living in France. A bit uncommon, no?” Charles asks, handing her then Ollie a Red Bull. Before grabbing one for himself. “I study there.” “What are you studying?” Ollie asks, “Ki,” he stops himself. “Andrea never said.” Her eyes narrow at the catch, wondering why exactly he did it. “Accounting. And I’m not surprised. If it’s not something racing related, my brother has no interest.” Charles laughs. “I think Lorenzo and you would get along well. Having siblings that live and breath racing while you don’t.” “Maybe.” “Are you close to getting your degree?” “I am actually. My final exams start Monday.” “And you came to the Monaco Grand Prix?” Charles’ eyes are wide. “Yes.” “My goodness.” He looks at Ollie, winking at him. “This one is a keeper.” “Oh,” she says, feeling blood rush to her cheeks and Ollie is turning pink. “We aren’t.” He shrugs, taking a drink of his red bull. “Maybe not yet.” His eyes then fall to their still intertwined fingers and she gives another tug to Ollie’s hand, expecting him now to let go, but he doesn’t. “No, not yet.”

—

“What race are you coming to next?” Her hand tingles at the sound of Ollie’s voice. “I’m not.” “What?” She turns to face him. “Andrea wanted me at the first race of the season, but I couldn’t make it, so I said I’d come to these two.” She doesn’t mention that the want of her coming was because he apparently missed her. She had her doubts about that, especially after this weekend. “You don’t think he’ll ask you to come again?” She looks around, seeing no one nearby, she sighs. “Even if he did, I wouldn’t come. I love my brother, but not on race weekends, not during the season. I’ve seen you more than him.” Ollie’s face that had looked shocked, turns to understanding. “I’m sorry. I had no idea.” She shrugs. “He’s busy.” Ollie looks like he wants to argue, but he doesn’t.

Instead he leans a bit closer, “so, could I get your number now?” She laughs, shaking her head. “No. Still not happening.” “Oh, c’mon. I won today. This is the one thing I want as the Monaco F2 feature race winner.” She shakes her head. “Maybe, if you actually wanted it as a friend. I’d say yes.” “And why can’t we be more than friends?” He’s closer now somehow and she has to swallow around the lump in her throat. “Ollie,” Her name spills from his lips in a gentle sigh as he leans ever closer. “We can’t.” She whispers, hand against his chest, holding him place. “Why? Give me one good reason why.”

He’s guiding her backwards, down the short hallway and into a room that’s thankfully empty, the door shutting behind him.

“One good reason.” “You’re Andrea’s teammate.” “For nine more weekends.” She lets out a shaky breath, watching as his tongue darts out to wet his lips. “I’m busy with school and work.” “You have final exams this week, which you’ll pass. And I’m busy with work as well.” “You're younger than me. I’m twenty-two, you just turned nineteen.” He shrugs, her eyes following the strong line of shoulders with the movement. “I’m an adult. And I like you.” “Ollie.” She breathes. He’s closer than ever before, their lips nearly brushing. “I’m still waiting.” Her eyes scan his face, his words full of confidence, his body too, but he’s flushed and his nervousness is easy to read. And she delivers the reason that has to make him see reason. Because she doesn’t know if he stays this close to her if she can stop herself from kissing him. “Your parents,” his throat bobs. “Would never approve.” He looks at her and she looks back, holding her breath, waiting for him to back away but he doesn’t, and god when does Ollie ever do things she expects. “They don’t need to.” He whispers and then he’s kissing her.

—

“What are you talking about?” “Andrea,” “No.” He stops her, shaking her head. “What do you mean, you are seeing Oliver?” He spits the name out. “Don’t, Andrea.” “NO!” His face is red and she’s reminded of the times when he wanted candy that she had and threw a fit over not getting it instead. “He is, he is,” he shakes his head. “I don’t even know what he is. He is my teammate, he works in motorsports, you hate motorsports.” She keeps quiet, watching as her brother processes the news. “He is younger than you, barely older than me. And you.” He shakes his head again. “Does padre know?” She scoffs, now shaking her head. “Does padre know? That’s all you care about isn’t it. If our father approves or not, if he knows what he thinks, because heaven forbid Kimi,” he flinches at the name. “You think for yourself.” “That is not.” “Don’t.” She cuts him off. “Yes, he knows. Don’t worry he disapproves as well. So, you don’t have to think for yourself again.”

She stares at her younger brother, knowing that this is her fault, but she can’t, she still doesn’t have it in her to deal with it, not today. “I will talk to you sometime, Andrea.”

—

“Your fans are lovely.” Ollie makes a humming sound, half asleep. She pauses her scrolling on twitter, unable to stop herself from liking the picture of Charles’ dog in his own personal little car. “Your fans. Very creative as well. They can’t call me a gold digger, but a fame seeker? Well, if the shoe fits.” “They what?” He sounds so much more awake, it makes her laugh. “It’s just hate, Ollie. I’m an old woman praying on the young. Apparently I’m like Piquet.” “Ew.” And she can picture his nose wrinkling. “You know you aren’t though right?” “An old woman?” She jokes. “A predator.” She softens, turning in his arms, so that they are chest to chest. “I know.” “I mean, really if anything I was.” “You were very insistent.” He flushes. “Only a little.” She nods, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “Only a little.”

“I know we talked about it before, but are you okay with everything?” “Yes. I mean, it hurts that Andrea is still not okay with it but my father’s opinion has not mattered to me in a long time. And no matter what the media and fans were never going to give us peace, so I made my peace with that as well. Besides, your parents are okay with it.” “They love you.” “Our friends are understanding.” “They are.” “And you aren’t about to dedicate any more podiums to me.” He grins at her and dread starts to form in her stomach. “Ollie…” “About that last one.” “Ollie!”

@crashingwavesofeuphoria @poppyflower-22 @racingheartsposts @gemofthenight @peachiicherries @lpab @hiireadstuff @iloveyou3000morgan @boiohboii @bibliosaurous @skepvids @elliegrey2803

#ollie bearman x reader #ollie bearman imagine #f2 imagine #f2 x reader #formula 2 x reader #formula 2 imagine

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lacroixwh0r3 · 8 months

Text

The First Taste (p.2)

DBF!Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: It's the second day at the lake and you meet some people that live in the neighborhood.

Warnings: SMUT!!! DUB CON (sorta? Just gonna leave it to be safe), heavy sexual tension, pet names, age gap (Joel is 36 and reader is 21), masturbation (F and M), voyeurism, daddy kink, dom!Joel, Joel is a perv and an asshole, cursing, Bill, Frank, and Tess appearance, use of Y/N (1x), jealousy, degradation, no outbreak

Song inspo (feel free to read if you want): Skin by Mac Miller

PART 1 PART3

A/N: I am sooo sorry for taking so long with this one, life has been crazy and weird, but I already have plans for the next part hehe. Also, this is probably all over the place...I wrote some parts of this high lol

Please share, comment, like, and reblog...enjoy my pookies!<3

Trying to act normal around Joel was a bit of a struggle for you.

It was the second day of the trip and he was completely normal during breakfast—he laughed and joked with everyone, seeming a little more lively than the day before. It didn't seem like he had seen or heard anything last night. And if he did, he was being very closed—lipped about the whole thing, which you were grateful about that because you'd probably die from embarrassment.

Sarah had done the honors of waking up early and making breakfast this morning, which consisted of pancakes and eggs. It was something simple and everyone enjoyed it, meanwhile, you could hardly touch your plate. Not because the food wasn't good, but because you were too occupied with staring at Sarah's dad, the man you had fantasized about the night before. It seemed that no one was even paying attention so you assumed that no one would notice your lingering eyes.

Unbeknownst to you, Maria had quickly caught onto your crush on the older Miller brother, yet she never said anything. Not even to Tommy, her husband. She sat there quietly as she watched you watching him. She really thought nothing of it other than a simple crush and from what she could tell from Joel's stoic attitude, the feelings were not mutual. However, Maria didn't know that Joel was beginning to grow a desire for you—he could hide it better than you.

You were glad that Sarah has been too busy typing away on her phone to even pay attention.

“Y’all had fun last night?” Joel asked as he peered over at the three that went out last night, but mainly looking over at Maria.

Joel was interested in their night, but he also knew how Tommy was after a few drinks. After Tommy and Maria had gotten married, it was obvious that he matured, but he still had his moments.

“It was lots of fun—there was good live music and good drinks there,” Maria said to him as the other two just nodded their heads in agreement.

"We actually ran into Bill and Frank while we were there, they were with a friend...what was her name again?" Tommy asked as he tried to recall the unknown woman's name.

Joel didn't know much about Bill and Frank outside of the fact that they were married and lived next door. During the very brief encounter with the two yesterday, he could tell that Frank was the outgoing one out of the two and Bill was more reserved and not too keen on strangers—Joel didn't blame him, he was the same way too.

"Her name was Tess." Your father reminded Tommy as he took a quick sip of his coffee.

"Right, it was Tess!" Tommy said before speaking up again, "I think you'd like her, Joel...she's your type." he said slowly to his older brother.

This instantly piqued everyone's interest—Sarah's head had snapped up from her phone, while your eyebrows raised with surprise. Joel didn't need any convincing because he instantly shook his head after Tommy said that, letting him know that he wasn't interested.

"Oh come on, Dad!"

"You can't be serious."

"Joel!"

With these responses from Sarah, your dad, and Tommy at the same, Joel scowled at them. Meanwhile, you just sat there silently as you picked at the food on your plate with your fork. For some reason, you were happy that Joel had turned down Tommy's suggestion.

"Tommy is right, Joel, I think you and her would get along well and she's beautiful," Maria shrugged at Joel. "You should meet her and get to know her first."

He hadn't dated in a very long time and hadn't been interested in dating either. He decided that he would agree to get everyone off his back

"Fine, I'll meet her," Joel said as he put his head down and looked up at you. From the corner of Joel's eyes, he can see his daughter and Tommy high-five each other from across the table, while you looked at him with an unreadable expression.

You didn't think that he would agree that easily, but it didn't matter. You couldn't get jealous over someone who isn't yours.

"Great! Tommy and I will go over there to invite them over for this evening and we'll be sure to tell them to invite Tess," Maria winks at Joel.

Before Joel could respond, he was interrupted by Sarah's phone. it began to blow up with messages by the second. Sorry—she said as tried to silence it until eventually, the person called her, making her answer the phone before telling the person on the other line to hold on. Joel was about to scold her until she cut him off, "I gotta take this, I'll be right back. Girl problems!" she tells him with a sheepish expression as she hopped off her chair and started to loudly to talk to the person on the phone as she walked up the stairs to her room.

You all heard her yell into the phone to her friend about some boy before her words became intelligible. You stifled your laugh as you watched the look of defeat washed over Joel's face and he shook his head.

"That girl," Joel whispered, making everyone at the table laugh a bit. When he heard you laugh, he looked at you with a cocked eyebrow, and you did the same.

The split moment between the two of you was briskly intervened by your dad.

"What did you two get into last night?"

You were about to make up some bullshit lie about what you had done last night before you stopped yourself and began to internally freak out because you remembered that Joel caught you smoking weed yesterday and he could easily tell your dad right now if he wanted to. You looked over at Joel with silent pleading eyes not to tell your dad what he saw, but he just looked at you with a blank stare as he proceeded to answer your dad's question.

"Nothing really, I think this one found out there's a balcony connected to her room, you should ask her about it," Joel said before finishing the rest of his food on his plate as he looked over at you. You felt everyone turn their attention to you, making you feel like your heart felt like it was going to jump out of your chest after Joel said that.

"Oh yeah? How was it, honey?" Your dad asked.

You felt like you had the words guilty written across your forehead, lying was not your strongest suit. You looked around the table and gulped down your spit, noting how amused Joel looked as he watched you become a nervous wreck.

You realized how insane you must've looked at that moment and cleared your throat before speaking up, "it was cool," you said in a composed manner.

"It was just 'cool'?" Your dad asked you, confused by your short response.

There you go again, embarrassing yourself in front of Joel.

"I mean the view was really nice from there, I liked it a lot," you shrugged. Your dad let out a hum, letting you know he was a little more satisfied with your response, making you relax. You looked over at Joel to see him looking at you with a discreet smug look on his face.

...

You had eventually finished their breakfast, to which Joel offered to wash everyone's dishes. Your dad got up from the table with a groan as he grumbled about going to the couch to rest for a bit, while Tommy and Maria headed over to Bill and Frank's house.

You decide to help Joel bring the dishes over to the sink.

"I can help you with that," You tell Joel as placed the mugs down and stood next to him by the sink, grabbing the drying towel that sat on the counter before looking up at him

"I got this, darlin'. You go sit and relax yourself," he said reassured you, yet you made no attempt to move. You shamelessly checked out Joel, watching as he focused on the dish, not even sparing you a glance. He could feel your gaze on him, but he said nothing to you. You peaked down and saw as he gripped the plate with his strong hand as the other rubbed the soap around the plate, the suds were dripping down his wet hand.

You pushed whatever thoughts that were about to appear in your head and looked back up at Joel. "It's fine, Joel. You wash, I'll dry," You tell him. He stops scrubbing before looking back at you, letting out a sigh, and going back to what he was doing.

You said nothing to him as you dried the dishes and Joel said nothing to you as well. There was this weird, awkward tension that lingered between you two. You got a feeling that Joel wanted to say something, he was just waiting on the right time to say it. You decided to break the silence first.

"Thanks for-um-for not saying anything to my dad, by the way,"

"That was nothing, sweetheart. Didn't wanna get you in trouble," was all he said. You weren't sure what to say after that so it went back to being silent.

Joel rinsed off the plate then passed it to you before clearing his throat and speaking up. "So, uh, how'd you sleep last night?" He asked you lowly and passed the plate to you. As you open your mouth to respond and go to reach for the plate, your body stills and your words get stuck in your throat. You had registered what he had said to you.

He was so casual with his words; to anyone else in this house, it didn't seem like anything, it was just Joel asking about you. However, you both knew there was a deeper meaning.

Joel new favorite thing was making you flustered-saying things to you that would catch you off guard and just leaving you hanging. He absolutely loved it.

"Oh come one, sweetheart, I asked you a question. It would be rude not to answer me," he said teasingly as he pushed the plate toward you some more so that you could take it.

You slowly reach for it as you watched him from the corner of your eyes, afraid to even turn your head to him. "I-I slept pretty well. Wha-what about you?" You asked him. You were nervous as hell and you could feel your hands shaking, so you decided to start drying the wet plate in your hand to cover it up.

"Me too, sweetheart," he said to you. You thought that was going to be the end of that conversation, but no, he kept going. "You know what though?" He asked you before turning to face you, got close, and bent his head down slightly to catch your eyes, but never did because your eyes were laser-focused on the now dry plate in your hand. You could feel his warm body close to yours.

"I was sitting on that balcony last night and heard some strange noises comin' from your room, had t'make sure you were alright before I went to bed." He said as he began to speak you again, "but I'm sure you were too busy to notice, right, darlin'?"

Kill me, you thought to yourself, just fucking kill me.

He was right, you were too busy too notice, but you refused to admit that to Joel. Just as you were about to lie to him again, you think back to the night before when he had called you out on lying to him about smoking.

You sat the plate down with the other plates and looked up at Joel, "I don't know what you're talking about," you say innocently as you turn your head to look at him and gave a tight, faux smile, which he returned as well.

This motherfucker.

"Mmm, I'm sure you don't, sweetheart." He says before the phony smile dropped from his face as he got closer to you. Your eyes flicker over to where your dad was sitting, making sure that he didn't see what was going on, before going back to Joel's dark ones.

"But I know what I saw when I looked in that room. I saw the way you fingering that wet cunt, moaning my name," he whispered to you menacingly. You suddenly feel his damp finger gliding across the back of your arm, causing goosebumps to spread around your body. You tried to move put some distance between the two of you, but he followed. "Cummin' all over those fingers while you thought of me."

There is no way your dad's friend is admitting that he watched you finger fuck yourself, while you moaned his name at that. It didn't feel real to you.

You had yet to say anything back to Joel, so he kept going. "Made me cum so hard in my hand. I couldn't help myself, you looked so perfect touching yourself." Instantly, you gasped loudly before looking over at your dad again, and luckily he wasn't paying a lick of attention. The sound of the running water must've covered it up.

Joel's confession should've disgusted you, but it didn't—in fact, it turned you on a lot. Some sick part of you liked that he jerked off while watching you.

Finally, you had gotten the courage to speak up. "You're a sick fucking bastard, Joel," you told him as you push his arm from you and your face scrunched with false disgust. "A sick pervert," You spit out at him as you turn your body to him and point close to his face.

You refused to feed his ego, which was already inflated.

Your words did nothing to him, not even a little bit. "Oh, honey..." he said as his large hand rested on your lower back, "You were the one moanin' my name last night, but I'm the pervert? Now that ain't fair," Joel smirked.

You scoff before you speak again. "Get your hands off me now before I tell my dad."

Instead of letting you go, Joel pulls you into his body, making your hands come up to his chest so you can push away. Still, he didn't budge and kept pulling you closer to the point you could feel the hardness of his cock against your stomach.

What a sick man he is.

"Do it, baby, and I'll tell 'em all about what I saw and heard last night," he says as his hand drifts down to get a quick squeeze of your ass.

"You liked thinkin' about me fuckin' you? Makin' you squirm while you cum all over my fat cock." He whispered. You saw how Joel's eyes darkened with desire as he said this. Truthfully, it was giving you a strong indescribable feeling deep down in your stomach, reaching your core.

For a brief moment, the disgusted expression on your face faltered, your eyes had batted open and shut, and you let out a shaky sigh as you looked up at Joel—hopeful that he hadn't seen your quick moment of weakness. Except, he did. You looked back up at him only to see him deeply observing your face with a small smirk on his face as if he had just accomplished something great.

"You liked that?" He asked you cockily with his hand still resting on your ass. You just rolled your eyes at him as you tried to push yourself away from him a second time. "You like it when I talk to you like that?"

You didn't even have to answer him because he already knew the answer.

"You need to let me go before someone catches us, Joel," You tried to change the subject, but this only made his smirk bigger.

"Aw come on, sweetheart, no one is gonna see us," Joel insisted before looking over at your dad. "They're all doin' their own thing

His actions after this had caught you off guard.

You can feel his big hand trail up your body, while his other one still rested on your ass to keep you close to him; going from the back of your waist to the front and going up to your breasts, giving them a quick, firm squeeze as he cupped them over your shirt. You whimpered as you looked down at the sight between you and looked back up at him.

Joel's hand moved up again, but this time he wrapped his fingers around your neck. He loved the softness of your neck against his rough calloused hand.

His long fingers flexed around your neck, growing firmer as he held your face up at an angle just under your jaw as he bent down. "Or I can take you upstairs if you want..." Joel's grip tightened some more. "Make sure to take my time with you, darlin'," He said as your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your head. Not because of his hand around your throat—Joel made sure he wasn't choking you to death, but because of his words.

Joel had this seductive nature about him and it was obvious that he knew how to use it to his full advantage. He could probably get you to do anything he wanted.

Fuck—you couldn't believe that you were actually thinking about saying yes to Joel after the way he spoke to you. But again, there was some sick part of you that got a kick out of the way he spoke to you. You weren't exactly sure what it was about Joel that you allowed him to speak to you this way, but if this were anyone else, you were sure that you would have absolutely freaked out on them.

"Fuck, Joel," you whined as you felt him inhale the scent of your perfume that you spritzed a little below your ear earlier this morning.

"Mmm, you smell so good, baby, just wanna taste you," He murmured, taking in your scent. His mouth was so close to your neck, you wanted him to place his plush lips onto it. You wanted to feel the prickly feeling of his facial hair on your neck while he sucked, licked, and kissed it.

"Sweetheart!" You heard your dad call out, instantly pulling you out of the half-conscious state that Joel had you in. Your eyes shot wide open as quickly pushed Joel away from you, making release your neck and causing him almost fall to the ground as he stumbled back. Shit—he cursed out as he caught himself. You really didn't mean to push him that hard, but you were deathly afraid of your dad catching sight of his closest friend choking his daughter behind his back.

"Uh-yeah? I mean, yes, dad?"" You said as you scrambled to fix your clothes and make yourself seem as normal as possible. The adrenaline rush made you feel like your heart was damn near beating out of your chest and made your hands shake with fear.

"Y'all still ain't done with the dishes yet?" He asked, making you tried to voice out some lame excuse, but was unable to. Instead, all you could do was make these odd sounds.

"Anyway, you don't mind gettin' me a glass of water, do you? This damn headache won't go away," he groaned out. You felt relief at the fact that he couldn't hear the nervousness in your voice.

"N-No, I'll-uh-get it for you in a sec," You told him as you looked over at Joel. He just looked at you with a faint worrisome expression on his face—his breathing was just as hard. You gave him an apologetic look before getting the glass of water for your dad.

You made no attempt to look at Joel as you brushed past him, you were too ashamed to look his way. Your hand was still trembling as you walked over to your dad, who was sprawled out on the couch, and handed him the water.

"Here you go,"

"Thanks, sweetheart!" He gave you a weak smile before downing the water, to which you returned as well. You plopped down next to your dad on the large couch as you heard Joel shut the water off in the kitchen and shuffled his way up the stairs.

You sat there feeling guilty as your dad talked to you about whatever was on his mind.

Even though you and Joel didn't go all the way, it still wasn't right to think of him in that way or allow him to do those things to you. You decided that you were going to stop thinking about joel for good.

...

Bill and Frank were great, though Frank was a little more lively. The moment you greeted them Frank gave you a quick side hug with a bright smile on his face, which caught you be surprise, and Bill just stood awkwardly next his husband as he introduced himself to everyone.

And then there was Tess.

You along with Sarah watched the painful sight in front of you as her and Joel introduced themselves to each other. You tried not to listen to their conversation, but you were curious and you couldn't help it. They barely speaking a word to each other besides saying their names and where they were from, which made you a little happy because it meant Joel wasn't interested.

Thank god.

"Well, that was a fail," you heard Sarah say not-so quietly, making you let out a chuckle.

Then Tess came over to us, making you both straighten up. From the moment you met her, she was nothing but nice to you and Sarah. She introduced herself to the two of you, smiled, and shook your hands.

"I'm Sarah, Joel's daughter," Sarah beamed at her.

"It's nice to meet you, Sarah," Tess smiled warmly at the young girl before turning to you, "And what's your name, sweetheart?" She asked. Her calling you sweetheart caught you by surprise honestly.

"Oh, i'm Y/N...that man right there is my dad," you said as you pointed to your father who was a little behind Tess, making her laugh a bit.

"Well, it's lovely meeting you as well." She softly stroked your arm, causing you to tremble with nervousness. Just as she finished her sentence, your dad and Tommy suggested that all the older adults go and hang out in the back while there was still light, to which they all agreed.

"Hopefully I'll catch up with you girls later?" she asked. Sarah and you just nodded your head before she gave the two of you one last smile before walking to the back.

That was weird, you thought for a moment.

"Tess seems nice," you said now that the house was completely silent, making Sarah nod her head in agreement.

"Yeah, she did, too bad my dad didn't seem interested in her," she shook her head, "anyway, what do you wanna do now that it's just us?"

"Mmm," You tried to think about what you could do with her, "I think Maria has some cookie dough in the fridge, you wanna bake cookies and play card games?" You asked the young girl.

"Sure!"

The two of you walked to the kitchen—you grabbed the cookie dough from the fridge and the baking sheet from the bottom cabinet. "You mind preheating the oven?"

Sarah walked over to the oven before staring at it, confused on how to use it. "Um, I think you're gonna have to do it. I'm not sure how to even work this thing," she turned to you.

You let out a giggle as you go to preheat the oven. After you did that, you stood next to Sarah as you both began to place cookies onto the baking sheet.

"You know we're gonna have to make a lot, right?" Sarah giggles out.

"And why is that?"

"My dad is obsessed with chocolate chip cookies," She confessed to you, "he'd probably eat them all if you let him."

This made you laugh.

Joel Miller liking chocolate chip cookies came to somewhat as a surprise to you. He didn't seem like the type to enjoy sweets, but according to his daughter he did and you found it cute.

Once you two had finished putting the last pieces of cookie dough on the sheet, you picked it up and went to open the oven. "Can you put on a time for 15 minutes, please?" You asked her as you place them into the oven.

"Sure," Sarah then began the timer for the cookies right as you closed the oven.

"So what was up with that phone call you got earlier? Sounded pretty serious," you asked her as you sat down at the island next to her.

Sarah lets out a loud sigh before talking, "where do I even start," she groaned. She began to tell you all about the drama amongst her friend group—supposedly, her best friend, Lillian, got with their ex-best friend's current boyfriend and now it's a whole situation. Sometimes you would ask a question or even give your two cents about the situation.

"And you wanna know the kicker to all this? Him and Lillian used to date last year and our ex-best friend got with him while they were dating, so we kicked her out the friend group," Sarah tells you. As soon as you let out a dramatic gasp, the alarm for the fifteen minutes had went off.

You got up and went to the oven, "wait, why would Lillian get back with him again? That doesn't seem smart," You say as you grab the mits from the countertop and took the cookies out the oven.

"I don't know," Sarah sighs out, you couldn't help but to laugh at her frustration at the situation.

Teenagers are so funny.

"You guys are crazy," You tell her as you, "You should tell your friend to leave him alone, he seems like bad news,"

"I have, but she doesn't listen," Sarah said in a disappointed tone.

You just shrugged your shoulders, "cookies are done, we just gotta let them cool for a bit,"

Just as you were letting the cookies cool down, Sarah asked you about your high school experience. You began to tell her all about it—your friend group was small and you mostly stayed to yourself throughout the whole time there. You made sure to focus on your school work rather than getting wrapped up in the silly drama or with boys.

Bill walks into the house and asked where the bathroom was, which you point him to the direction where it was and he went on with his business.

A few minutes later, as you and Sarah were munching on the soft chocolate chip cookies, Bill comes back from the bathroom, "It smells delicious in here," he mumbles as he makes his way to the door.

"You can have some if you would like, Bill? We made sure to make enough for everyone," You told him as you give him a small smile.

"I shouldn't," he said reluctantly, but you quickly reassured him that he could have some if he wanted.

"Well if you insist," Bill grabs a napkin before taking two cookies and said a low thanks as he made his way outside with them.

"I bet they're all gonna come in here to get cookies," Sarah laughs as she finished up her cookie.

And she was right.

They all eventually crowded into the kitchen around the island as they devoured the cookies, nearly eating them all. In between their chews, they spoke loudly to each other.

You tried to engage in with conversation with them, but you were too busy watching Joel. You watched as he had his right arm wrapped loosely around his daughter's shoulders while the other one brought cookies up to his mouth—he looked relax right now.

And sexy too.

You didn't see that Tess was next to you until she spoke up.

"Thank you for the cookies by the way, they were really good," She said to you with a kind smile on her face as she looked at you. Her eyes lingered on your face for a little

"Oh-thanks! I-It was nothing really, we were just really bored and needed something to do," You laughed awkwardly, squirming with nervousness. You couldn't even make eye contact with her while speaking to her.

Tess made you feel nervous in ways that you couldn't describe. Not as nervous as Joel makes you, but close.

"No problem, sweetie,"

...

You were starting to fucking hate this.

Sitting here and pretending to not be affected by watching Joel flirt with the hot, older woman made you want to flip your shit.

You hated to admit it, but your dad and Tommy was right—Tess absolutely was Joel's type. She's hot, smart, a tough woman, yet she was kind, and most importantly, she is close in age to Joel. She was also kind of like the female version of Joel.

At first, there was this awkward tension between Tess and Joel that was almost hilarious to you, but it quickly dissolved as the evening progressed and the drinks began going, making it no longer funny to you.

You had to remind yourself that you decided to back off of Joel that morning, but whatever was happening between the two quickly made you forget about it.

After a little while of being around them in the kitchen after baking the cookies, you sat down on the couch to unwind for a bit. However, that quickly ended when Joel and Tess decided to join on the couch right across from you.

While everyone was still sitting around the kitchen island, listening to music and laughing, you were sipping on your beer and looking at them with no expression on your face.

You didn't even like beer, you just needed something to drink on right now.

Joel was relaxed as he spoke to her, with his muscular thighs spread wide open as he held onto the beer in between them while the other arm rested on the head of the couch. He looked so relaxed and comfortable talking to her.

Sometimes, your eyes would sweep down his body, causing you to catch sight of his pants-covered bulge. You weren't going to lie and say that you weren't looking because you absolutely were.

Next to him was Tess, she sat closely to him with her legs folded up on the couch as she faced Joel, giving him her undivided attention. They both spoke in hushed whispers to each other, occasionally letting out some laughs.

She looked so beautiful as she sat there attentively listening to Joel as she gave him a smirk and flipped her long hair to the side, giving him a view of her neck.

God, you hated how jealous this made you.

And the worst part of this all is that he hadn't given you an ounce of attention since she got here. Ever since the incident in the kitchen this morning, he was distant and didn't pay you any mind—matter-of-fact, Joel just pretended that you didn't exist and that made you even more mad. Whenever you were around, he would avoid eye contact with you.

While you were staring down Joel and Tess, Sarah had suddenly appeared next to you as she plopped down on the seat next to you.

"You alright?" She asked you as you took another sip of your beer. "You look pissed right now."

Was it that obvious? If Sarah can notice the look on your face, that meant so did everyone else.

"Oh, me? I'm good, just some boy problems back at college," You lied to Sarah so she wouldn't know the real reason you looked mad.

Okay—was all she said to you, sounding unconvinced, but didn't push any further.

"My dad and Tess look pretty comfortable now," She leaned over and whispered to you. "Never seen him this way with a woman before,"

Honestly, this didn't seem surprising to you at all.

From the way Joel seemed reluctant to even get to know Tess earlier and the awkwardness when she had gotten here made it very apparent to you. Had you not seen any of this, you would've thought that he was quite the ladies man from the way he spoke to you whenever the two of you were alone.

"Interesting," was all you said as you took a sip of your beer again.

"Anyway, you wanna go to my room and watch a movie?" Sarah asked. "I'm gettin' bored of them already," You laughed and nodded your head in agreement and began to get off the couch, still watching the two across from you. Still, Joel continued to talk to the lady without even spairing you a glance.

You let out a scoff and roll your eyes as you make your way to the steps to go upstairs.

Fuck Joel.

...

It was getting late and Sarah eventually fell asleep a some time after you started the second movie. She was knocked out cold. You were tired as well, but not fully tired to the point that you were ready for bed—you didn't feel like hanging out with everyone down stairs and you didn't feel like seeing Joel and Tess all over each other either so you decided to go to your room for the night.

Before quietly slipping out of Sarah's room, you made sure to put the blanket over her and turn off the tv. Afterwards you brushed your teeth and changed into your pajamas, which was just a tank top and your underwear, before getting into bed.

For a while, you laid in the dark and scroll through Instagram while you blasting music through your headphones. You were tired, but not fully tired to the point that you were ready for bed—you didn't feel like hanging out with everyone down stairs and you didn't feel like seeing Joel and Tess all over each other either.

You suddenly felt the vibrations of a door slamming shut and heard the muffled sounds as well, making you yank your headphones off. It almost scared you to death.

You waited a moment to hear for any sounds that might follow up after. It was silent for the most part besides the sound of Joel's heavy footsteps next door, he must be getting ready for bed. You also assumed that Bill, Frank, and Tess had went back to their place because you didn't hear the music playing downstairs anymore or the sound of them talking loudly.

You were about to put your headphones back on until you heard Joel start to talk. You thought that he must've been on the phone or talking to himself until you heard the tone of a females voice—it was Tess. You couldn't make out what they were saying, but you hear them talking back and forth to each other.

At this point, you were holding your breath as you tried to eavesdrop, completely interested as to what they were doing in Joel's room together.

Joel must've said something funny to Tess because she laughed fairly loud at whatever he said.

He isn't that funny, you begrudgingly thought to yourself.

One of them flopped down on the bed, causing the bed to creak and the headboard hit against the wall. And because the beds were on the same wall, you could hear almost everything. They continued to talk for a while until it went completely silent and the bed creaked again.

You didn't want to jump to conclusions because you weren't sure what was going on in that room and you and Joel aren't anything so it really shouldn't matter to you. You also felt weird sitting there in the dark, snooping on Joel and Tess so you decided to try and get some sleep.

You readjusted in the bed and closed your eyes—occasionally tossing and turning because it felt like there was a million thoughts going through your mind right now.

Your eyes snapped open when you heard faint sounds of the bed screeching and the headboard thumping against the wall. The sounds were unbroken until Tess lets out a low moan, causing the noise to come to an abrupt stop and Joel shushes her.

He was fucking her and you were hearing it.

Joel says something to her and the noise continues again, this time it was a little fast. Your heart was beating against your chest just as fast, if not faster. The sound of your heart beating almost muted the sounds of Joel and Tess fucking.

Joel's grunts got a little louder as Tess lets out a few fucks here and there along with a couple moans. You listen closely to the plap-plap-plap sound that were smothered by the wall.

There's no way that you were the only one hearing this because they were not quiet.

It probably would've been best if you put your headphones back on, but you couldn't bring yourself to do it. There was something about it that made you furious, yet aroused. It shouldn't have, but it did and so much to the point that you felt a throb begin to form at your core.

You needed to relieve the ache somehow and suddenly this bright idea popped into your head. You slipped your underwear off and threw them somewhere off the bed before grabbing a pillow as you get onto your knees on the bed and tucked in the sides a bit, and straddled it.

You began to steadily rocking your hips back and forth, feeling your folds grind against the pillow and the wetness spreading as you became increasingly wet, as you tried to match the pace. Quiet whimpers escaped your mouth though you were trying to stay silent.

You felt like a creep listening to them and you knew you would feel ashamed of your actions later, but right now you didn't care, you just wanted to touch yourself.

At that moment, you thought back to earlier, remembering the way that Joel sat on the couch, sprawled out as he talked to Tess. You imagined him under you, seated the same way while you were on top of him grinding against his hard cock. His warm, rough hands would be gripping at your waist underneath your tank top, as he guided your hips. One of his hands would trail up to your braless breast and cup it while he would thumb at your erect nipple.

You grab onto the headboard, picturing it was his shoulders you were holding onto.

"Feel so good, daddy," You breathed out as if he were actually under you. "Makin' me feel soo good,"

"Atta girl, you like grindin' your pussy against this cock? Huh, baby?" he would ask you before letting out a loud grunt as he tried to hold back from cumming over his stomach and between your thighs.

Goosebumps trailed down your spine as you imagined this and your hips move faster against the pillow, making the headboard hit the wall harder.

"Yes, Joel," you moaned out as if he were actually there, not even realizing how loud you were.

You assumed you weren't being loud at all, but in actuality, you were. Tess and Joel had heard everything from the moment you started. Due to the wall and the fact that you were just so caught up in your own fantasies, you couldn't even hear them talking about you.

"S-she can hear us, Joel," Tess groaned out to Joel, but not once did Joel stop his thrust. He kept going because knowing that you were pleasuring yourself turned him on.

"Yeah? Let her hear," Joel purred as he felt Tess pulse around his cock. His thrust got faster, intensifying the harsh sound of the frame striking against the neighboring wall.

Just on the other side of the wall, you were hunched over listening to them and humping against the poor pillow. "P-Please, daddy, don't stop," You shook your head as you go to grip the pillow under you so you could get more friction. You could feel the sweat dripping down your face from how intense this whole thing was, but you didn't dare to stop.

You were barely listening to Joel and Tess anymore as you were close to your orgasm.

"Don't fuckin' stop," your torso was stiff as you opened your legs wider and pushed your core down on the pillow harder. Your toes wiggled and curled as you were seconds away from cumming. You whimpered Joel mindlessly the closer you got.

You needed this badly, you need him.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cumming," was the last thing you rasped before biting down on your lip. Not once did you stop nor slowed down the thrust of your hips as you shook with pleasure. You kept going as you chased your climax, hardly even breathing.

Right after you, Joel came shortly after.

"Aw, fuck!" he grunted loudly as he held onto Tess' hips. His seed spilling into the condom. Because his thoughts were so hazy at the moment and the only thing he could think of you, he nearly moaned out your name while fucking Tess, but thankfully he stopped himself before it could roll off his tongue.

"Shit, Joel," Tess groaned, cumming around his cock. Joel stayed behind her for a moment, still holding onto her buckling hips.

Eventually, Joel pulls out and collapses next to her before pulling the condom from his cock, tying it, and sat it on the nightstand. Tess does the same. They both say nothing to each other as they lay there.

Joel wondered what you were doing now.

Meanwhile, you were still trying to catch your breath, still holding onto the headboard as you tried to calm yourself.

You heard the talking as they got out the bed and moved around the room to put on their clothes you assumed.

Finally, Joel's door opens and you can hear them walking out of the room and go down stairs.

The front door opens as they quietly exchanged a few words to each other.

Joel eventually shuts the door and makes his way back upstairs. Once again, you could hear his heavy footsteps as he trot up the steps.

You decided that once he goes back in his room, you were going to dash to the bathroom to clean up the mess you made on yourself.

You were about to get out of the bed so you could clean yourself until heard Joel's feet about to shuffle past your door before he stopped right in front of it. You sat down on the middle of the bed, waiting for him to go to his room.

Joel hesitated for a moment, contemplating whether or not he should knock on your door, but he decided to do it anyway.

Joel's hard knuckles knocks at your door making your body go stiff. You were going to pull the blanket over your body and answer him, but you decided to pretend to act like you were sleeping.

You thought that this worked until your door suddenly swung open, revealing the large outline of Joel Miller. You scrambled to pull the duvet over the bare bottom-half of your body, hoping that he didn't see anything.

He stood there a moment before speaking up. "You good, sweetheart?" Joel asked you. He obviously knew you were awake.

It took you a few seconds before you replied as you were trying to calm your beating heart after he scared you. "Yeah, i'm fine, Joel," you said, thinking that he would just fuck off and go back to his room, he didn't. Instead, he came fully walked into the room and closed the door behind himself before making his way over to the bed.

"W-What the hell are you doing, Joel?" You asked him, caught off guard that he would just come in here.

Joel was going to speak until he realized something got caught onto his slipper as he approached the edge of your bed, making him suddenly stop and look down. Because it was dark in the room, he could tell what it was, but it was obvious that it was a piece of clothing. He bends down and grabs it, feeling a slight dampness to it before coming back up and holding the material out in front of him.

Joel goes to flick on the lights and your heart flutters when you see what he was holding. You look at Joel with a panic look on your face and see that he had this surprise, yet smug expression on his face.

It was your fucking underwear that you threw off.

"Look what we have here, sweetheart," He says as he walks closer to the bed, making you clutch the duvet closer to your body. "These yours?" He asked you even though he knew the answer.

"Can you put them down, please?" You pleaded with him silently as your face burned with embarrassment. He doesn't answer you, instead he brings the damp fabric up to his nose and inhales your scent, closing his eyes as he took it in. You let out a squeak, surprised that he was doing this.

Again, if this were anyone else you'd probably be creeped out by this, but there was something about Joel that made you want him badly.

"Smells so fuckin' good," he says as he pulled them away from his nose. You just look at him, mouth agape as he opens his eyes, balls up your panties into his hand, and sits on the edge of the bed. As if your grip couldn't get any tighter, you pull at the duvet again, hoping that Joel wasn't seeing anything under it. He immediately noticed you doing this and looked at you curiously with his dark eyes, making you feel nervous.

"What's under the blanket, baby?"Joel asked as he pointed at your lap.

You shook your head and avoided eye contact with him, "please don't make me do this, Joel," you begged him again, but he didn't budge one bit.

"Oh come on. Be a good girl and show me what you're hiding under there," He said sternly. You didn't need much convincing because you quickly gave into his demand. You slowly move the blanket off of you, shaking as the feeling the air hits between your legs.

Joel groans at the sight. "Baby, look at you," his deep southern voice says so softly as he brings his warm on on top of your thigh, making your thighs clench together.

"No no no, you don't close those legs unless I tell you, you understand me?" You nodded your head and let him pull your legs open.

"So beautiful up close," He groans out. His hand moved to the inside of your thigh and slid up, making you whimper. Your core throbbed again, longing for him, but he never did.

"Touch me, daddy, please." You whispered to him, so desperately.

"Mmm, not tonight, baby," He says, while his fingers continued to tease you. "Can you do somethin' for me?" He asked softly.

"Yes, Joel," you said and nodded your head without a second thought, ready to do anything he asked you.

"I want you to show me how you were touchin' yourself when you were listenin' to me and Tess,"

You stilled once he said this, you didn't know that he heard you moaning. "W-what?"

"Don't be so surprised, girl. You weren't bein' very quiet." He teased you before speaking up again. "Now, I want you to show me,"

You sat there for a moment, embarrassed that you were about to do this in front of Joel. You grab the cum-soaked pillow before getting up onto your knees on the bed and stradling it, trying not to look at him.

"Look at me." He orders. You look at him, feeling nervous as he watched you with his intense gaze. "Now, ride the pillow. Slowly."

At first, you were reluctant as you began to slowly grind against the pillow, so embarrassed at the moment that you couldn't even enjoy the pleasure. And the look on Joel's face made you want to die.

He brings his hand onto your thigh making your stop, "Relax yourself," he mutters.

You nod your head before you let out a loud sigh. You try to calm yourself down before you lean forward, making your back arch and held onto the pillow with one hand while the other kept you up.

You began to move your hips, this time feeling a little more comfortable as you did so. You let out a weak whine as the pillow grazed against your wet clit.

"Good, darlin', go a lil faster now,"

You didn't need any convincing with that, you instantly went faster, making the bed frame to knock against the wall.

Joel's cock jumped in his pants as he watched you with greed in his eyes. He wished he could take you right there, make you weep and bite into the pillow as he pounded into your wet pussy.

"Look at ya, humping that pillow like a slut," he groaned, thinking about you riding him the same way. "You like being a slut, don't you?" Joel asked you.

"Mmhmm—I love it so f-fucking much, Joel," You moaned as you convulse on the pillow, nearly cumming.

"P-please—" was all you said. You couldn't even get the words out of your mouth as the the uncontrollable waves of pleasure passed through your body.

"Please what, baby? What do you want?" He pressed for you to continue your sentence.

"Please touch me, I need to feel you right now," You grab Joel's hand from the bed and bring it up to your breast, taking him by surprise.

Such a needy girl, Joel thought as he felt your hard nipples through the cotton. He fumbled and teased at them before pinching your nipple, making you yelp loudly and your back arch more.

"Baby, you gotta be quiet or someone will hear you." He whispered to you, trying to get you to be quiet.

Instead of just being quiet, you shook your stubbornly, closed your eyes in pleasure, and bit your lips, loving the feeling you were experiencing right now.

"I don't give a fuck," You said as you breath out a humorless chuckle, after releasing your lip from your teeth.

The way you were acting right now in front of Joel surprised him a bit—it was different than the way you were this morning, even minutes ago. He didn't mind though, not one bit. Joel actually enjoyed seeing you this way. So wild, allowing your pleasure to take over.

"Oh shit, I'm gonna cum," You gasped out.

"Yeah? You gonna cum?" Joel teased. Mmhm, you whimpered in response as he releases your breast and starts to move his hand up your shirt, starting from your hips and going up your tank top. He palms your breast again, feeling the goosebumps rise on your skin, and flicks your nipple hard.

"Come on, cum for me, sweetheart. I wanna hear you moan for me," He eagerly said as he watched your body tremble, ready to fall apart for him. Your moans got louder and louder before your breathing hitched and got caught in your throat.

You came almost immediately, your body shook and your hand went to your clit as you keep on grinding on the pillow, intensifying your orgasm. "Daddy, oh fuu-shit!" you squeaked.

"Look at you, my pretty, slutty baby. Cummin' so hard f'me," he purred, but you couldn't get out your words. You were so overwhelmed that you nearly fell over as you tried to keep yourself up, but luckily you didn't.

Joel continued to spew out teasing comments as he egged on your climax, until you eventually calmed down a bit. He removed his hand from your shirt as your slumped against the bed with exhaustion.

He let out a chuckle as you face plant into the bed before giving your back some rubs as he tried to calm you down. You were breathing heavy as your body trembled and your hips rolled against the pillow, causing you to let out a dreamy moan.

"Oh darlin', come on, get up so you can lay down right...gonna hurt your back laying like that," Joel said to you softly. You were tired as hell and on the verge of falling asleep right there, so you stayed there for a little before getting up.

Once you did get up, you fell back into the soft pillows with your eyes closed as you felt yourself relax into them.

You can feel as Joel grabbed the pillow from that you humped from between your legs. You thought that he was going to put it to the side or something, but that wasn't the case at all.

"Oh, baby, look at the mess you made," you hear him say, almost moaning. Your eyes shoot open, which you catch him running his finger through your wetness on the pillow, bringing it to his mouth, and licking it off. He groaned the moment it touches his tongue, which made your eyes widen with shock and you let out a gasp.

To Joel, you tasted as good as you smelled and he loved it.

"Joel, why would you do that?" You asked him, shocked that he would do that.

He gives you a wide smirk, making your stomach flutter with butterflies. "Why not, baby? You taste so good."

You say nothing after this, feeling flustered by his actions.

It was quiet between the two of you until you remembered that you didn't have anything on from the waist down.

You were tired, but you gathered the strength to get up from the bed.

"Where you goin', sweet girl?" Joel asked you as you made your way to your bag.

There's that name again. You loved it when he called you that.

"Just grabbin' some shorts," you looked over at Joel as you bent down to grab your shorts and put them on, feeling his eyes on you, watching you so intensely. "I can feel you watching me, Mr. Miller," you tease him.

"Mr. Miller, huh?" You turned around and made your way back to the bed to find Joel still watching you.

You just nodded your head as you plopped down onto the bed a lay down. You pat the spot next to you, trying to get him to lay down next to you, which he obviously got the hint.

"Want me to lay with you, darlin'?" He looked over to you, searching your face for permission.

You quickly nodded your head as you scoot over to make room for Joel, making him crack a small smile on his hard face.

God he looked so handsome when he smiled.

"Alright, baby."

Joel laid on his back on the pillow next to you, making readjust yourself as you snuggled into him with your head and hand resting on his chest. He wraps his arm around your shoulder, pressing you closer to his body.

You laid there listening to his steady heart beat, your heavy eyelids almost closed.

You noticed that he had all the chances to touch you, even have sex with you, yet he never did and it made you wonder why.

Before you could stop yourself, you called his name."Joel?"

"Yeah, sweetheart?" He asked

You hesitated before speaking up again, afraid of what you might hear from him, but fuck it.

"Why won't you touch me?" You asked him curiously, the sleep was audible in your voice.

He was quiet for a moment, making your wrench with rejection, until he spoke up. "One day, baby. Just not right now, okay?"

You nodded your head against his chest before answering. "Okay," You said softly, feeling somewhat content with his response, but still feeling a little rejected.

At least he didn't say never, you thought to yourself.

"Good girl, now get some sleep." He said, making you nuzzle into his chest and close your eyes, almost instantly drifting to sleep as you felt his hard body under you.

============================================

#smut #the last of us #joel x reader #joel miller #joel the last of us #joel miller smut #tlou fanfiction #joel miller x reader #neighbor!joel #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #dads best friend #dbf!joel #dbf!joel miller #dbf!joel miller x reader #dbf!joel x you

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cowgurrrl · 1 year

Text

Nobody asked but here are my headcanons for Joel as the ultimate girl dad™️

Gets Ellie into a routine as soon as possible so she knows what to expect in her day-to-day life. There’s not much he can guarantee outside of their home but he can make sure she eats, does her homework, and is off to bed at the same time every night.

Speaking of bed, he’s the dad who has a STRICT bedtime set. He can’t sleep until he knows Ellie is safe in bed and even though she’s a teenager he still makes her be in bed by 10 but he absolutely can be persuaded to let her stay up with a long game of cards, guitar lessons, or a movie.

Before Ellie, he would’ve been reckless if it meant keeping Jackson safe but now that he knows she’s relying on him he does things slower and safer.

Maria teaches him how to cut hair so he can help Ellie because he knows how hard it is for her to trust other people especially when they have something that could be used as a weapon so close to her head.

Definitely pushed her into the river while teaching her how to swim. She was pissed and didn’t talk to him until after dinner.

Ellie becomes known as “Joel’s girl” and neither of them correct anybody who says it

Slips notes into Ellie’s backpack when she’s not looking so when she gets to math class and opens her notebook, a sticky note with Joel all-caps handwriting falls out and reads, Why was the toilet paper unstoppable? And on the other side it says, because it was on a roll

He laughed about it for ten minutes before forgetting about it

Ellie secretly keeps all of his notes in a box under her bed

Teaches her how to play football in the spring when all the snow has melted and accuses her of cheating when she scores against him

“How could I cheat? It’s fucking football!” “You’re abusing an old man, you know that?”

Although Ellie never calls Joel dad, there’s an unspoken agreement between them. Joel hated Father’s Day after Sarah died but that Father’s Day they settled, two bouquets of flowers show up on the dining room table with a note from Ellie.

Saw these and thought of you, the note reads. One from me and one from her.

He cries the first time he gets them. He can’t remember the last time anyone gave him flowers.

Lord help the teacher who has to call Joel in for his first parent-teacher conference in twenty years. Everyone is Jackson knows how protective he is over Ellie and her teacher is only slightly terrified of him.

Ellie constantly steals Joel’s shirts and he pretends not to notice

He’s always looking for new tapes for her Walkman and asks every group that comes through Jackson if they have anything

Ellie ends up with three new tapes to listen to by the end of their first year of being settled

Joel knows he’s probably doing a million things wrong and danger is always lurking and the time they have together is fleeting but he does his best to be good for her. He apologizes when he yells, he shows up to her first guitar recital, and constantly reminds her how loved she is even if there aren’t always words exchanged

Sometimes it’s a hug, the squeeze of a hand, or a ruffle of hair but they both know it means so much more. Giving and receiving affection would’ve been seen as a show of weakness in Boston, a vulnerability that others can play into. Here, love doesn’t have to hide or be shunned to the dark corners of their lives. They can just be.

Who knew Ellie tripping Joel while playing football in the spring meadow meant so much more than anyone else thought?

Tumblr if you delete my last paragraph one more time I’m going to gnaw my arm off

#joel miller headcanon #joel miller fluff #joel and ellie #ellie williams #ellie miller #joel miller #joel miller the last of us #joel miller drabble #joel miller x reader #the last of us x reader #the last of us hbo #the last of us #ellie williams headcanons #i wrote this for me but you can read it too i guess #pushing my Joel Miller girl dad agenda once again

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lincolndjarin · 2 months

Text

Every Now and Then - ch. two

[ And if You Only Hold Me Tight ]

pairing : joel miller x f!reader, platonicsoulmate!tommy & f!reader

word count : 9.3k

summary : you spend some time tommy, you spent some time with joel.

tags/warnings : 18+ mdni, angst, canon typical violence, language, panic attacks, violence, injury, wounds, possessive behavior, toxic relationships, animal death, i probs missed some i never know how to tag so lmk if i misses anything !!

a/n : this took so long and i dont even know it its good so i'm deeply sorry about that.

ao3 .𖥔 ݁ ˖ series masterlist .𖥔 ݁ ˖ main masterlist .𖥔 ݁ ˖ kofi

Now - JACKSON, WYOMING : 2023

“It’s nice to meet you Ellie.” You hold your hand out across the table to her, offering your own name up in the process, noticing an incredulous look in her eyes as you say it. Of course she doesn’t shake it, you’ve worked with enough survivors her age to know how they think.

She doesn’t trust any of this, and you can’t blame her. Every single thing she’s seen since arriving here is too good to be true, she’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. That’s okay, you can be patient. She just needs to learn how to be a kid again. When she makes no attempt to move you pull your hand back, your smile never wavering. You’ve met kids in much worse condition than this, you can work with this.

“Why don’t you tell me a little bit about yourself, Ellie.” You set the notebook you’d been writing in back down onto the table, you don’t want this to feel like an interrogation for her, it needs to be a conversation or you won’t get any of the information you need.

“Like what?” She’s slouched down into the chair, her arms crossed across her chest. She has her defenses up, she has spent her entire life protecting herself, she isn’t going to stop just because a stranger offered her a mug of tea. A mug of tea that she has notably not touched.

“Anything you want to, or I could ask some specifics if you’d like.” You take a sip of your own tea, hoping it might show her it’s safe. She only hums in response, you decide it might be for the best if you just ask her what you need to know. “Let’s start with a few easy ones, how old are you?”

“Why do you need to know?”

“We need to assess your health, what classes you’ll be put in, if you’ll be needing any feminine products. I promise, anything I ask is for your own good.” Seeing kids like Ellie is a painful reminder of just how lucky your own little ones are, it’s a wonder she made it this far. You can’t hold her skepticism against her, her distrust is why she’s still alive. “Would it help if we brought your father in? He’s just down the hall with Maria.” You aren’t sure why, you typically handle every stray but she had insisted on helping you out today. She’d spewed some sort of excuse about how Ellie might need some special attention but as far as you can tell she’s in the same state that most kids are in when they arrive.

“He’s not my dad.” She’s quick to say it, as if it’s a sore subject.

“May I ask his relation to you then?” Maria had told you she arrived with her father, you were told to expect one teenage girl and one man in his fifties.

“He’s… my friend?” She sounds unsure, unsure enough to ring alarm bells in your head.

“Honey, are you in a safe situation? We can help you if you need-” She doesn’t even let you finish your question before sitting up straighter.

“No, no, no, gross, it’s not like that, he’s not like that.” The look of disgust on her face brings you immense relief, this world is full of enough horrors for a young woman to face.

“Okay, I just wanted to make sure.” Even if she hasn’t been through that, she hasn’t had it easy, no one has. But there’s something distinct in her eyes. Loss. She’s seen more than enough of it, more than anyone her age should. Her eyes keep darting to the door, her head tilts in that direction every time someone walks by. She’s worried about her companion. She doesn’t want to lose him too. “I know none of this makes sense, and you have no reason to trust me but I need you to try Ellie. And if I ask you anything you aren’t comfortable with then you don’t have to answer but I need you to try, please. The faster we finish up here, the faster you can get back to your friend.”

She takes a moment, you’re practically holding your breath when she finally nods.

Perfect, you can work with a nod. You love a nod, a nod is all you need to help this girl.

“Let’s start with your age again.”

“Fourteen.” You’ll have to have a menstruation kit sent to whatever house they put her in, most people’s cycles start being regular once after a few months in Jackson.

“Thank you.” All you get is another nod yet you can’t help but smile. “Do you know where you were born?”

“No.” Her eyes are trained on your shoes, occasionally darting around the room but staying low for the most part.

“Where did you grow up?”

“The QZ.” The thought makes you sick for several reasons. The last place a child should grow up is the streets of a quarantine zone, even if she was in the FEDRA program it wouldn’t have been easy. The thought of any QZ still makes you queasy, even after this long.

“Which one?” Anywhere but Boston.

“Boston.” Of course. With your luck she would be. Someone’s far from home.

“FEDRA program?” As terrible as they are, they always keep the kids' vaccinations up to date, one less thing for you to worry about.

“Mhmm.”

“How old were you when you left?”

“Fourteen.” How the hell did she make it to Jackson all the way from Boston in such a short period of time? Why come to Jackson at all? There’s certainly other QZ’s between here and there, there’s probably other settlements too.

“Can I ask why you left?” It’s not a question you need to ask but your stomach is in knots at the mention of the Boston QZ and you can’t help yourself.

“I’d rather you didn’t.” Something flashes across her face, she isn’t trying to be rude, she simply doesn’t want to talk about it.

“That’s fine.” You don’t need to worry about it. She doesn’t know him. There’s no reason for her to know him. QZ’s house hundreds, if not thousands, of people. There’s no reason to spiral over nothing. “Do you have any allergies that you’re aware of?”

“Nope.” She makes a popping sound on the “P” as she leans back in the chair, trying to look relaxed despite how on edge she still is. You decide not to put anymore pressure on her, it won’t do you any good.

“How are you feeling physically? Any symptoms of illness?”

“Like infection?” You have to stifle a laugh, if she was infected the two of you certainly wouldn’t be sitting here right now.

“I’m not worried about that, I mean something more like a runny nose or a cough.”

“Oh. No.”

“Any skills in particular you’d like to learn? Our school system is a little less traditional than what you probably had with FEDRA.”

“I like science.” She sits up a bit, good, you’ve found something that piques her interest.

“Then I will make sure you’re enrolled in some science classes. But I meant skills like agriculture, construction, or veterinary care. Something you could learn about that interests you. You won’t be asked to help out around town until you’re sixteen but we like to let you explore different things to see what you like-”

“Could I learn how to shoot a gun?” She leans forward before you can finish your thought.

“You could apprentice some of the hunters, we could also have you trained for patrol and scavenging which involves gun safety and training courses. You’re a bit young for those but I’m sure I could ”

“Really?” You can tell by the inflection in her voice that she still doesn’t trust you entirely, even if she’s excited.

“Of course, you’ll probably be the youngest student in the training class but I’m sure you can handle it.” She needs something good in her life. You want to protect everyone who finds their way to Jackson but this girl makes your heart ache. Most adults you’ve worked with aren’t able to hold themselves together this long, putting on a brave face despite everything.

“Do you like burgers?” You almost cringe as you say it, hoping she’s had food outside of the synthetic shit FEDRA produces.

“I guess?”

“I’m having a little cookout tomorrow evening once everyone’s finished their work, it’ll be small, just me and some family but you’re welcome to join. You can bring your friend, I have two little ones you can play with. They might be a little younger than your usual friends but I promise they’re great company.” You swear she almost smiles, and suddenly you just want to make this poor kid smile. “You know, I’ve got a telescope in my garage, so if you stop by it’s all yours.”

“Seriously?”

“Absolutely, I’ve never even touched the thing so maybe you can put it to good use. Let me write down the house description for you, it isn’t too far from this building, you can stop in whenever you want tomorrow. There’s an empty house across the street as well, maybe I could show it to you, see if you like it.” You pencil it down, tearing the paper and handing it to her. This isn’t something you’d typically do but you can’t resist an opportunity to help her feel more at home here.

“Yeah, I mean that would be great.”

“Perfect.” You lean back in your chair. “What sort of hobbies interest you?” You’ll be in charge of putting together a welcome basket for her since Maria has marked her down as a permanent occupant.

“Reading, I like comics. And I used to draw a lot in the QZ.” Perfect, books are easy to find since Jackson was built around a small library.

“Okay then, I think that’s all I need from you for now but I’ll be around soon once you get housing settled. You can go join Maria and your friend if you’d like, I have to figure out what house we’re going to put you two in but I’ll be stopping by later with a few things for you.” That actually isn’t all you need from her, there are more questions on your mind, one specific question. Ask her what his name is.

“Thanks.” She stands, quickly heading towards the exit as you grab your notebook, you need to make a list of everything they’ll be needing.

You shouldn’t. If by some stroke of misfortune you’re right this question will only serve to destroy everything you’ve worked so hard to push away. You shouldn’t.

But you do.

Before she’s out the door you call out her name, you don’t want to know, but you have to.

“Ellie, what’s your friend's name?”

You found the treehouse two months after you found Jackson.

With tears streaming down your face you had dropped the twins off at Maria’s, mumbling apologies before going to the edge of town, a large amount of Jackson was empty, and still is. They’re planning for the future. Someday, generations from now, the town will grow and they’ll use these houses to accommodate families. But for now it’s just an empty town, one that you realized had a treehouse. You had hidden yourself away there, curling up into a ball to become as small as possible.

Tommy had found you hours later, shivering, with no more tears left to cry. And he hadn’t chastised you or asked you why you’d done it, he’d just taken your hand and walked you home. It doesn’t take him hours this time, only about thirty minutes according to your watch. You hear the crunch of his boots, the walking pattern you recognize as his, and the creak of the boards as he pushes the hatch open before sliding up into the small space with you.

Before he speaks you’re already reaching for him, desperate to cling to some kind of familiar safety.

“Hey darlin’.” It’s a dance you two do, fluid and instinctual as he pulls you into his arms, you slot yourself between his bent legs as he wraps himself around you. You used to sit like this when you couldn’t find shelter on snowy nights, one of the many habits you had trouble breaking when you found Jackson. Maria would never ask you to change your relationship with him, it was a decision you had made with Tommy when he told you he wanted to marry her. A part of you just sort of knew she didn’t like it, so you stopped. And you’d never hold that against her, if the roles were reversed you certainly wouldn’t be as kind as she’s been. That’s why you’ve always loved Maria, since the first day you met her she has been like a sister, patient but blunt with you.

Except in this one instance.

She withheld some particularly important information.

“The twins?” You lay back against him as you mumble.

“Maria’s watching them. They’re helping her make dinner, you shoulda’ seen them in the kitchen. I swear she’s the only person they listen…” His voice trails off when he feels you tensing up all over again as you go back to fighting off tears.

A silence falls between you, familiar and reminiscent of your first few days together out in the woods. And just like back then, you’re the one to break it.

“Have you seen him yet?” The words feel small and hoarse in your throat.

“No. Couldn’t bring myself to.” He rests his chin on your shoulder, you wish you could find comfort in any of this but there’s just too much dread. Too much unease fills your stomach to relax.

“Does he know you’re here?” You wish your voice didn’t tremble so much.

“Maria didn’t tell him.”

“Are we sure it’s even him?”

“Not a lot of Joel Millers walking around during the apocalypse.” It’s like he can sense your skepticism as he quickly continues. “She said he looked like a Miller.”

“What does that even mean?”

“Like me but grayer.” Fair enough.

“Does he know I’m here?” There’s no way. He couldn’t.

“No.”

“Good.”

“Can’t stay that way forever.” You know that. But you don’t have anything to say about it so you move on, and redirect the anger that mixes with your confusion and fear.

“Why didn’t she tell us?” He can’t take your side in this, as much as you want him to, he has to take her side because her’s is the rational one. Do you have a side? Can you be mad at her for this? Are there even sides?

“Probably because she knew we’d react like this.” His head tilts a bit to rest against your own. You’re thankful for this position so you don’t have to look him in the eye.

“She should have told us.” You’re trying to remain calm but your voice is pitching up higher by the minute.

“She was going to, she just didn’t know how. She thought she had more time”

You need to relax. It feels like your heart is going to burst from your chest and you’re certain Tommy feels it too.

“How did he find us?” He wouldn’t have been looking for you specifically, unless he had a death wish.

“On accident, I think. Maria said he was looking for me when they found him.” That makes sense. It’s just a coincidence that you’re also here. He has no way of knowing that you even know Tommy. How he managed to locate him is another matter.

“We’re two thousand miles away from the QZ, how the fuck did he find you?”

“He always gets what he wants.”

You can’t argue with that. Plain and simple, you don’t need much more than that.

“I don’t want to see him.” An impossible request, but you make it anyway.

“We both know that isn’t possible.”

“Tell her to send him away.” Also unlikely.

“You know she can’t do that, we don’t turn folks away from Jackson.”

“Then I’ll leave.”

“Like hell you will.” There is no fight in his voice, just certainty as he holds you a little tighter. Not without me. The silent promise that lingers under his words, but it’s more complicated than that now, you have two toddlers and he has a wife, there is no running away from this. No running away from him

He’s inevitable.

It doesn’t matter if the world ends, and you run halfway across the country, Joel Miller is inevitable.

“He’s got a kid.” You mumble as you reach for his hand, entwining your fingers with his. You hadn’t realized how cold you were until you felt the warmth of his skin against yours.

He scoffs. “He’s got two.”

“Another kid, some girl. He brought her here all the way from Boston.”

He shifts a bit, clearly confused. “Why?”

“I was hoping you’d know, it isn’t exactly in his nature to help the needy.”

He pauses for a moment. “Well, I mean, how old is she?”

“Fourteen.”

“Well there’s your reason, Sarah was fourteen.”

Sarah.

A girl you know very little about other than the fact that she’s your daughter's namesake. Sarah Ruth Miller. It had been Tommy’s idea, you had only picked out a name for a boy and you owed Tommy everything for keeping you alive that long, so when he asked if he could pick his niece's middle name you’d been more than happy to oblige.

It hadn’t been Joel who told you about Sarah, he never even told you he had a kid.

Tommy had told you about it just before the twins were born. You’d been snowed into a cabin and he’d just returned from hunting with a grin on his face as he told you he had a surprise. You couldn’t sleep, between the cold and the pain in your lower back you were just too uncomfortable most nights. Tommy always insisted on staying up to keep you company even if he ended up falling asleep most of the time.

That night he told you about how he lost his niece on outbreak day as he skinned the fox he’d caught in one of his traps as you sat beside him in front of the crumbling fireplace. When he finished the story he held up the pelt and told you he was going to make your babies first blanket with it.

Of course at the time neither of you knew that he would have to make a second blanket, or that he would need to do it a month sooner than either of you had planned.

“I invited him to dinner tomorrow.” No sense in hiding the fact from him, he’ll find out either way.

“What?” His hand tightens around yours and it’s your turn to comfort him as your thumb rubs circles against the tense skin.

“Ellie- the kid, I invited her before I knew about Joel. Even told her she could bring him.” You almost laugh at how ridiculous it all sounds now. Of course you invited him to dinner completely by accident, sounds like something you would do.

“Then why don’t we just get it over with?” Or you could leave, brave the Wyoming wilderness with your kids and his wife and make a run for it, far, far, away from Joel Miller.

But you can’t do that.

So you might as well get it over with.

“Together?” You bring his hand up to your face to warm the icy skin of your cheek.

“Together.”

He means it. He stays with you until the next day, walking you back into town and bringing you to his house. Maria starts apologizing the second the two of you walk through the door but you just hug her. She doesn’t owe you anything, any anger you thought you felt towards her was misplaced.

And you all settle in for the night.

On particularly bad nights you’ll spend the night at their house. It’s been happening less and less these last few months but it’s an unspoken decision tonight as Maria brings down sleeping bags from the attic for the kids.

You tuck the kids in by the fireplace, hoping that they don’t catch the vacant look in your eyes as you kiss their foreheads. Thankfully they both seem to be too excited about having a living room campout to notice. You hear hushed whispers from the kitchen, it sounds like an argument so you just sit on the couch, wrapping a blanket around yourself as you stare out the window facing the street.

What house did she put them in? There are a few options for temporary housing, but he could be anywhere. The thought makes you nauseous. Thankfully you’re distracted when you eventually hear Maria stomping up the stairs followed by a sigh from the kitchen before Tommy joins you on the couch.

“Everything all right?” You mumble, hoping to not wake the kids as you offer up some of the blanket to him.

“It will be.”

God you hope so.

“How do you wanna do this?”

Good question.

Preferably you wouldn’t be doing this at all, instead you would be enjoying what might be the last nice day before autumn sets in entirely. You, Arthur, Ruth, Tommy, and Maria. You’d still be happy if Ellie came over by herself but that’s so unlikely you don’t even consider it an option. Joel’s too protective and you confirmed with Maria that Ellie would be coming. He won’t let her go alone, you know that better than anyone.

You rub the back of your neck with your freehand. “The kids stay inside with Maria.” Ruth is already there, helping her aunt with the salad as Arthur sits in your lap, playing with a few stones he’s set up on the picnic table.

“Okay.” Tommy’s biting his nails, you’d spent weeks reprimanding him about that until he broke the habit.

Your knee starts bouncing, a nervous habit of your own that you’ve had for as long you can remember. Thankfully Arthur simply hums to himself as you bounce him. As far as you can tell neither one of the twins knows something is wrong, you can only hope it stays that way.

“We can wait for them out here, I can ask Ellie to go in and help Maria with the kids.”

“And then?”

You frown in contemplation. “I haven’t planned that far ahead.”

“So you didn’t plan for the most important part?”

“Did you?”

His teeth shift when you ask, biting down hard enough to split his nail lower than he intended. You watch as blood blooms there while he curses under his breath.

“Shit, go inside and grab a bandage, they’re in the cabinet above the sink.” He stands as you wave him towards the house, he brings his thumb to his mouth, his brow furrowed. “And bring Maria and Ruth out with you when you come back so we can go over everything with her.” He nods, humming in response before he disappears behind the screen door.

“Is Uncle Tommy okay?” When you look down you’re met with a worried look plastered on your son's face. You instinctively cup his face with your hand, using your thumb to smooth out the wrinkle between his brows. He looks too much like his father when he does that.

“He’s okay, love. He’s just gotta go get your Aunt and Ruth.” You lean down, kissing his forehead before turning to set him down next to you.

“Okay, Mama.” He seems satisfied with your response as he gives your leg a little pat before running off towards the edge of the yard. You’ve got a patch of rocks and gravel the kids like to dig through. You turn to watch him, with your back now leaning against the picnic table as he crouches down, examining the ground before finding a suitable stone. Clutching it in his hand he rushes back to you, holding it up for your approval.

“Very pretty, thank you.” You take it from him with a smile, setting it behind you on the table with the rest of them. He repeats the process several times, staring down at the ground, scrutinizing each rock before bringing the ones he deems good enough over to you. You give appropriate oo’s and ah’s to each one, grateful for the brief peace your son is able to give you. He carries on with this for sometime, until you have a sizable pile of rocks beside you.

He leaves, and he returns, dozens of times until he decides not to return to the patch of gravel.

You thank him for the speckled stone he hands you now but instead of running back across the yard he squints, staring up at your expression.

“What’s wrong?” He hops up onto the bench next to you, grabbing the sleeve of your shirt and bunching it up in his little fist as you give him a soft smile.

“Nothing’s wrong, hon.” You ruffle his hair a bit but he doesn’t seem convinced.

“Why’d you make a mad face then? Uncle Tommy too.”

So much for the kids being clueless, they’ve always been too smart for their own good.

Shit.

You sigh, looking up at the clouds briefly before looking back down at him.

No sense in lying to him. “You know how Uncle Tommy has a brother?” You wrap an arm around him, pulling him close.

His face scrunches up a bit as he thinks. “Yeah…” He doesn’t sound entirely convinced as you give him a reassuring smile.

“Well, we don’t really- we don’t always get along with Uncle Tommy’s brother, and he’s gonna be visiting us soon.”

“Why?”

“He’s in Jackson for a little bit, and he came a long way to get here-”

“No Mama, why don’t you like him?”

This is a conversation you had hoped to have with your children when they’re older. Preferably it would be one you wouldn’t have to have at all, but it’s just another unavoidable part of Joel. They’re already old enough to ask questions, it started when kids in their class began asking if Tommy was their dad. Which of course led to the twins asking you one night just before bed the same question.

“No love, he’s your uncle, who told you that?” You don’t want that rumor going around, people already talk about it, it doesn’t help that they both bear a resemblance to him.

“No one, Annie asked us.” Your daughter answers as you brush some of her hair behind her ear. You recognize the name, it’s a girl in their daycare class.

“And what did you tell her?”

“That we just got a mom.” Ruth answers but Arthur picks up the second she’s finished speaking.

“Do we have a dad?” He tilts his head to the side as you swallow loudly.

“Yes, you do.”

“Where?” Ruth asks.

Last you’d heard he was in Boston.

“I’m not sure.” They turn and look at each other before turning in unison towards you, you should have known they wouldn’t take that answer. “We lived together for a little while, in New York, and then we got separated.” None of that means anything to either of them but it’s an answer, which is better than nothing.

Arthurs tiny hand squeezes yours, pulling you back into reality. You often wonder if they know when you’re lost in a memory, he looks up at you curiously. What did you do to deserve such a patient child?

You take a moment to think of a way to phrase it. “We… got into a fight. A long time ago.”

“About what?”

“Grown up stuff.” Your heartbeat quickens, you don’t want him to know about all that, he’s too little, you need to end this conversation.

“What kin-“ When he starts another line of questioning you poke at his sides, sliding him off the bench in a fit of giggles.

“Time to go inside, nosy little man.” You follow after him as he rushes away, brown hair that’s just starting to curl at the ends falling into his eyes as he runs away from the house.

You catch up to him within a few steps, scooping him up and cradling him like a baby. He lets out a high pitched shriek until you squish your face into his cheek, kissing the rosy skin until he quiets down to a few small giggles.

“Your aunt needs some help in the kitchen, you’re gonna go play with her and your sister now.” He nods as he squirms in your arms until he’s more comfortable, wrapping his arms around your neck and resting his chin on your shoulder as you walk him back towards the house.

He’s gonna need a nap soon, which means Ruth is gonna need a nap soon. Maybe you should try and get them both down before everything else happens.

Right on cue, Tommy pushes open the door with Ruth on his hip, Maria not far behind him. Based on the smiles they’re both sporting you can assume they’ve made up. They always do.

“I think it might be time for these two to head inside.” Tommy gives you a soft smile and for a single second you get to pretend that everything’s fine. Maria takes a lighter towards the grill, trying to light it as you go to stand next to Tommy, the twins both grinning at each other.

In your own little bubble, everything is completely fine, and you’re with your family.

And at the end of your single perfect second the bubble is popped. It all happens before you’re ready, although you doubt you could ever really be ready for this.

Maria pockets her lighter, mumbling something about going inside to look for matches after a few unsuccessful attempts. You set Arthur down, nudging him in her direction, he quickly runs towards her, taking her hand as she begins to make her way back towards the house. Tommy wraps his free hand around your shoulder. Giving you a reassuring squeeze as you rest your head against him to stare at your little girl.

“We’ve got this.” He gives you another squeeze but you’re struggling to find safety in it. He’s always been the strong one, the confrontational one. He’s got this. You don’t. You tilt your head to stare at him when Ruth’s gaze goes from your face to his but your head snaps to the side when you hear your name called.

Everyone looks up. The twins, Maria, Tommy, and you, as Ellie walks around the side of the house and waves at you. The sound of your name makes the man walking behind her look as well, his all too familiar scowl scanning the yard, softening into a look of disbelief when his eyes settle on you.

Then - NEW YORK CITY, QUARANTINE ZONE : 2019

“I don’t like havin’ you out there on your own. I worry too much.” He mumbles the words against the back of your neck as he tightens his hold around your waist. At some point the two of you had stopped pretending you’d wake up any other way and just went to bed like this. “Stay here, angel.”

You’re so comfortable you almost consider it, but you ran out of cards last week and you’re cleared for work as of today. “I have to go if I want to sign up for any of the well paying shifts, Joel.” You peel his arms off of you, sitting up as he matches your movements.

“Don’t sign up for that shit, it’s always somethin’ stupid or dangerous.” His voice is low and thick with sleep as he wraps his arms back around you. “If you need somethin’ I’ll get it for you.” He hasn’t shaved in a few weeks, his coarse facial hair rubs against your shoulder as he murmurs.

Who knew big, scary Joel Miller could be so clingy.

The most surprising part of your relationship, if you could even call it that, with Joel is just how needy he is. You don’t have any problems with it, it’s just a bit of a shock. Although maybe needy isn’t the right word.

Protective.

You’ve left the apartment two times in total since moving in with Joel, both times you insisted on needing air much to his dismay. He accompanied you around the block without a word the first time. The second time was the same, the only difference was that you stopped to buy a small bag of buttons, Joel had frowned as you made small talk with the older man sitting behind the table before rushing you home.

“You could have just told me you needed buttons.” He grumbles as he holds the door open for you as you make your way to the kitchen table, taking a seat as you take his flannel off of you, the sight of your tattered sports bra serves as a reminder of how badly you need to get back to work once you’re cleared.

“I don’t need buttons, you do. Every shirt you own is missing at least one.” You laid the shirt down on the table, pointing to the drawer next to the sink. “Get me the sewing kit.” His frown deepens but he does as you say before sitting down across from you.

Reaching across the table he sets the box down beside you, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Still, you should have just asked me.”

You open the small tin, unspooling a bit of thread. “I needed to go outside for a few minutes, it’s stuffy in here.”

“We could have opened a window.” He grumbles under his breath as you grin, holding the thread between your teeth while sliding the other end through the needle.

“It’s not the same and you know it.” You mumble through your teeth before releasing the thread and setting the needle down. You pour the buttons out onto the table, searching for one that best matches the beige of the buttons on the flannel. Eventually his hand encompasses your own as he guides you to one that’s a slightly different shape but matches the color perfectly. “Thank you.” You give him a teasing smile as you place it over the frayed threads where its predecessor once was.

That was a week ago and you haven’t been outside since but when Joel went to get the mail from downstairs he brought you a notice from the doctor that you were cleared to return to work today. Despite his protests you start to push the blanket off of you but he’s quick to pull it right back up into place.

“Stay, please.” He continues to hum against your skin.

“I need the money, Joel.” You turn to look at him, his usual morning sulky look seems doubled today.

“How much do you need?” He raises an eyebrow at you as he lets his face fall forward, his forehead resting on yours.

“It’s not like that.” You swear, if you asked him to, he'd find a way to give you the moon and stars, but you hate relying on him for everything, especially after such a long time of being dependent on him. “I just need to work.”

“You don’t need to. You want to.” His breath still smells like whiskey from last night as he gives you an exasperated glare.

“Fine, I want to work. My leg’s fine now, you can barely tell anything was wrong with it. I’ll be okay.” You lean just a bit more towards him, kissing his cheek before sliding out of bed.

You aren’t exactly dating Joel.

Dating seems so trivial during an apocalypse, and you haven’t had any conversations about it. It just sort of happened. You woke up one day and neither one of you wanted to pull away from the other, and it progressed from there. He came home from a job one night and climbed into bed next to you, wrapping himself around you and he kissed your forehead before falling asleep. You still don’t know if he knew you were awake. The next night you’d taken his face in your hands and kissed him, just to see what he’d do, thankfully after a moment of shock he’d kissed you back. And it just became another unspoken part of your life with Joel. He kissed you goodbye when he left to go do the things he refused to tell you about in any detail, and you always greeted him with a kiss when he returned.

But you don’t have sex.

You want to ask him why but you hold your tongue, it’s possible you’re just being impatient or maybe he just wants to wait. So you don’t push it or bring it up because you like how things are with him.

The word boyfriend is not a word that suits Joel.

He isn’t your boyfriend, he’s just sort of, yours.

“Angel, please.” He continues his griping as he pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Joel, please.” You repeat back at him, trying to mimic his low tone.

“I’m bein’ serious. Things have gotten bad out there recently, too much FEDRA bullshit.”

“It’s always been bad and I’ve always managed, I’ll be fine.” You pull one of his shirts out of the closet, slipping it on, starting to button it as he makes his way to the end of the bed.

“Can we at least talk about this?” He rests his elbows on his knees as he hunches over. The morning haze on his face is gone and is replaced by the stern scowl you’re used to.

“There isn’t anything to talk about. I’ll be careful, there’s nothing to worry about, I’ll see you tonight.” After digging through the dresser drawers you eventually find your only pair of jeans. Once your boots are laced you walk back over to him, standing between his legs and taking his face in your hands.

Staring down into his surprisingly gentle eyes, so dark that in the dim morning light they look pitch black.

God he’s pretty.

Even with that stupid pout of his.

“I’ll see you tonight.” You lean down, placing a kiss on his forehead before pulling away only to be stopped when his grip on your waist tightens.

“Just- wait.” You’re about to push him away with a laugh but his voice cracks just enough to make your smile drop.

You start to speak in a soft tone but you only get one word out. “Joel…”

“Please- I just- I can’t let you go out there and sign up for that shit. There’s jobs that aren’t dangerous, simple stuff.”

“Those jobs pay a few cards at best, hon. I can’t wear your clothes forever, I need new underwear, socks, all sorts of things. And I want to contribute around here, I’ll be okay, I promise.” You push the mess of hair falling across his forehead back as you stare down at him.

He looks so genuinely upset already and you haven’t even left yet, he’s making this far more difficult than you thought it’d be. “I won’t be able to do anything if I don’t know you’re safe. It’s dangerous for both of us, I can’t be distracted like that.” You sigh, long and loud as you drop your hands to your sides.

The more you think about it the more it makes sense. He really does worry too much, and even if you don’t know exactly what he does for work, you know it’s dangerous.

Maybe it won’t be so bad.

“Okay.” You groan.

“You’ll stay?” The corners of his mouth start to raise a bit.

“I’ll do the safer jobs.” The hint of a smile that had been on his face dissipates. “It’s a compromise. You can’t always get everything you want.”

“Fine, come right home after.”

“I will.” With one more kiss he finally lets you go.

So, at Joel’s request, you sign up for the easy jobs.

They’re boring, and generally sort of terrible, and they pay the least, but Joel doesn’t make any further arguments about it. So you keep signing up for them. Typically it’s childcare, or filing documents for FEDRA, or working in the entry level food processing jobs.

Boring, boring, jobs that involve standing around and doing nothing or wrangling kids who don’t deserve to grow up in a place like this. You hate the look on their little faces, they always look too grown up for their ages.

But you put up with it, because at the end of the day you get to go home to Joel, Joel who seems to be in significantly higher spirits ever since you’ve agreed to those specific jobs. So you make it work. He makes it worth the banality of it all, at the end of your first week back to work he surprised you with a large paper bag, grinning like you’d never seen him before. When you unfolded the crumpled bag you were greeted with a mess of fabric, different colors and textures. You poured the contents onto the bed and immediately realized what he’d gotten you. Bras, panties, socks, and two pairs of jeans. It must’ve cost him a fortune and your eyes began to water immediately. You had wrapped your arms around him, barely letting go of him for the rest of the night.

After that it got even easier, eventually you got used to it.

You learned to live with the terrible jobs, and if you wanted anything you couldn’t afford with your meager savings Joel always managed to get it for you, even if you hadn’t told him you’d wanted it in the first place.

You probably would have stayed like that forever if you hadn’t started taking the long way home. Weeks had passed before it happened, you had grown comfortable, vulnerable. Joel always made sure you felt safe and you let your guard down just long enough for something to happen.

Joel had left early that morning, telling you that he was gonna be late, before he kissed you, he was out the door before the sun came up.

Whenever Joel told you he would be late you took the long way home. Winding back alleys that were mostly empty that always led back to the apartment building. It was just a treat for yourself, something to do to fill time that would be spent at home, waiting for him.

You never had any issues or alterations.

Until that afternoon.

Joel will be late.

So the second your shift is over you take the handful of cards and make your way through the city. And just like you’ve done every other time, you look behind you every once and a while but not nearly as much as you should. Because of this, you don’t see him until it’s too late.

It’s a younger man, probably a year or two older than you at most peering around the last corner you turned. Once he knows he’s been seen his pace quickens and instinctively you do the same.

“On the ground!” The second you hear it you pray it’s for someone else, it has to be, you’ve done nothing wrong. You walk faster, hoping to avoid what could be a messy confrontation when the sound of boots slamming on the pavement rushes towards you and you’re forced up against the wall of the alley.

In your peripheral you catch the white text against the black of his uniform.

FEDRA.

Your knees are kicked from under you as he pins your arms behind your back, the force at which your head hits the stone has you dizzy as you try to catch your breath. Too much is happening too quickly, when you finally feel like you can use your voice the wind is knocked out of you as you feel him hit you in the side, hard enough to have you wondering if he broke a rib. The force of the hit makes your knees crumble completely as the officer lets you fall, only giving you enough time to get to your hands and knees before his boot slams into your stomach knocking you onto your side.

Finally, when you roll over onto your back you get a clear look at him. He looks like your average FEDRA officer, the only thing out of place is the unsure look on his face. Your ears are ringing so you barely make out what he says, all you catch is something about thinking you were someone else, before he turns and leaves as if it never happened.

Leaving you alone to clutch your stomach and wonder what just happened, and what you did to deserve that.

You’d never heard of random attacks from FEDRA before. Maybe in other zones, but the city has always been calm as far as that goes. Maybe things really did get worse while your leg was healing.

Joel was right.

That’s all you can think about as you stumble to get to your feet, everything hurts but now is not the time to assess your wounds, you need to get home before something else happens. You manage to hobble up the stairs of the building, nearly collapsing by the time you opened the door.

You feel so stupid.

Joel was right.

It isn’t safe out there, at least not for you. No one fucks with Joel, no one attacks him on the street because they’re afraid of him. No ones afraid of you.

It’s a long couple of hours after that.

Mostly a lot of berating yourself as you try to take in the extent of the damage.

Surprisingly it seems to mostly be surface level. Sure, you’re going to bruise pretty bad and your face got scraped up on the stones but nothing permanent seems to have been inflicted.

Once you’ve showered and slipped into an old shirt of his and a pair of panties you climb into bed, wanting this day to just be over, but you know it isn’t. Right on schedule you hear the lock click as Joel steps through the front door, you hide your face in your pillow.

“What are you still doin’ up? It’s almost midnight.” His voice is a low whisper as you hear the familiar sounds of him kicking off his boots and setting down his things. You hear the outer layer of his clothing hit the floor, you told him a while ago you thought it was gross that he slept in the clothes he wore all day. He started sleeping in his undershirt and boxers after that. “You okay, Darlin’?” The bed shifts as he sits beside you and the second you turn and look at him his jaw twitches. “Christ… what the hell happened? Who did this to you?” He’s managing to stay mostly calm but you’re already worried he’s going to blow.

“It’s nothing, I just had an issue with an officer on my way-“

“This is not nothing.” He’s already fussing with your face as you take his hands and move them away from you.

“Joel-“

“Tell me what happened.” It’s a command and you’re too tired to fabricate something, and for the first time in a while, you’re afraid.

So you tell him exactly how it happened. And before you realize it’s happening you’re sniffling, a part of you feels like you’re about to be scolded for this but he only nods, never interrupting you until you’ve finished.

Your vision’s blurry with tears when you look up at him, the weight of being attacked starts to weigh heavy as you realize just how lucky you were that that was all that happened. And then you say the words he’s been waiting to hear.

“You were right, Joel.”

“I’m sorry, angel. I should have been there to protect you.” He holds his arms open and you don’t hesitate as you lean forward into him. You do your best to hold it together as he lays you down before clicking off the lamp and pulling you back against him. He softly scratches your back, kissing the top of your head as he does. It’s silent for a few more minutes until he suddenly whispers into the darkness. “Tell me you’ll stay here from now on.”

“Joel, I-“

“No more going out there without me. You’ll stay safe right here, no one can hurt you here, not while I’m around.” You open your mouth to argue again but stop yourself.

He’s right.

Now that you’ve calmed down you know that you’re lucky to even be alive. You don’t know why you were attacked but you know it could happen again, and there are worse things than being beaten.

No one would hurt you here, not with Joel around.

“Stay here, angel.” He murmurs, softer this time.

Joel is right.

“Okay.”

He isn’t beside you when you wake up, your hands searching through the cold sheets seeking his warmth. He had mentioned something as you were falling asleep about an early morning supply run but you had hoped to say goodbye before he left, you wanted to make him breakfast. As you get ready to roll back over and sleep a bit more you’re startled into an upright position.

“You should watch where you’re flying, angel.” You bite back a shriek as Tess’s voice comes from the direction of the kitchen.

“Christ, you scared the hell out of me!” Your heart skips a beat as you reach over to the nightstand, pulling on the little chain that turns the lamp on. “Joel’s not even here, what are you doing?” You don’t like the idea of being alone with her, she doesn’t come around much anymore, you used to see her in the hall on her way here constantly, but after you moved in she stopped.

You do your best not to flinch as she makes her way over to you, standing at the foot of the bed.

“I’m not here to hurt you, there’s no need for theatrics.” You hadn’t realized you were shaking so badly until she said it, it takes a conscious effort but you manage to stop it for the most part. “I’m just here to talk.”

“About what?”

“About you and Joel.”

You don’t want to talk about that with Tess. You don’t want to talk to Tess at all, she frightens you and she knows it.

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Don’t talk to me like I’m stupid.” This time when you flinch she hesitates. For a brief moment the facade of a woman who fears nothing drops, and you swear you see sympathy in her eyes. “Joel is dangerous, you need to be careful with him or you’re going to get hurt.”

Is that why she’s here? To try and break you up?

“He won’t hurt me, he cares about me.” You wish you sounded more sure of yourself.

“You’re right, at least for now.” She flips her pocket knife open, ever so carefully running the blade along the underside of her nails, scraping away any dirt or grime she so happens to find, you fight the urge to flinch again. When she finally looks back up at you she takes a moment, examining your expression as if this was an interrogation. “Being loved by him is the worst thing that could possibly happen to a girl like you.”

You can’t help but scoff, now look who’s being theatrical. “A girl like me?”

“Good, too good. And fragile.” She points at you with the blade before returning to her nails. “He’ll do anything to keep you safe, even if it means breaking you into tiny little pieces, just so you’ll fit in a box he can lock.”

You’re about to call her a liar but you hesitate. “Why are you telling me this?”

“You deserve to know.”

“Okay, but why? You don’t even like me.”

“You wouldn’t be here if I didn’t like you.”

Fair enough.

“I think you should go.” You don’t want to hear anything else. You don’t believe anything she’s saying and the entire conversation makes you feel sick. She doesn’t know anything about your relationship with him, and she clearly doesn’t know anything about Joel. He’d do anything for you, you don’t think you’ve ever been taken care of before you met him.

“What do you know about glue traps?” She doesn’t make any effort to leave so you decide to just answer her with a sigh.

“Like the ones you use to catch mice? I don’t know, Joel buys them sometimes.”

She points her knife in the direction of the corner of the room, it takes a moment for your eyes to adjust. Sure enough, in the corner of the room, peeking out from under his dresser, is the faint outline of something on the floor, you’d never noticed it before.

“It’s the worst kind of way to catch a mouse.” She stands, walking across the room and peeling up the trap with the edge of her blade before snapping it shut and taking the edge of the trap between her fingers, dragging it across the floor to the middle of the room so you had a clear view of it. “They’ll do anything to get out.” The tip of her boot nudges the corner of the trap, now that it’s been dragged into the lamp light you can see exactly what she wanted to show you. Two things are in the bloody trap. A mouse, barely alive, based on the way its chest rises and falls, and something else. A caterpillar maybe?

No.

A leg. A bloody mouse leg, on the edge of the trap.

“They’ll chew off their limbs, and peel off their own skin just to get out, the ones that manage to are lucky enough to bleed out somewhere else. The ones stuck in the trap though?” She nods down at the creature you now refuse to look at. “They’ve got it the worst. Suffocation, dehydration, the ones who try to peel off and can’t, bleed out, stuck in place.”

With a sudden crunch, her boot slams down on the trap. You watch, slack jawed, as she peels it off the sole before tossing it in the bin in the corner.

“I’d take a quick death over either of those.”

“I think you should leave. Now.” You try to sound authoritative but your voice trembles too much to sound anything but afraid.

“I heard you got caught up in some FEDRA business yesterday.” She starts again but you’ve had enough.

“Tess.” You manage to have a bit of sterness this time in your tone but it doesn’t seem to affect her much.

“Fine. I’ll leave. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.” You catch that sympathetic look one more time before she unlocks the door chain, twisting the doorknob before speaking one last time. “I noticed some of our inventory is missing, this is the only warning you’re gonna get about that. If you want shit like that just ask, I’m sure Joel would be more than happy to have another way to control you.” She doesn’t turn around when she says it, simply slamming the door and leaving. You have no clue what she’s talking about, but that isn’t the part of the conversation that sticks with you. All you can think about is that crunching sound.

So you avoided her after that, writing off her words as an act of jealousy.

Joel would never do anything to hurt you.

Of course you know better now. She was just like you, she had been in the glue trap herself when she tried to keep you from joining her, but you hadn’t listened, instead you’d fallen face first into Joel. And he wouldn't let you go without keeping some of you for himself.

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#lincolndjarin #fic : every now and then #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #tlou joel #joel tlou #joel the last of us #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #tlou fic #joel x reader #the last of us fic #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction

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eff4freddie · 21 days

Text

Touch | Part Two

Words: 2.7k

Part One | Series Masterlist | Part Three |

You have no intention of messing with the stability you have discovered in Jackson. But whatever higher power is still up there twenty years after the end of the world has other plans.

Warnings: slow burn, post-outbreak, Joel Miller is a grump and a menace, no use of y/n, eventual smut but not in this chapter, I still have no idea how many parts this will be but I’m feeling six maybe?

Maria’s words ringing in your ears, you resolved to stay away from Joel and his not-quite-adopted daughter. Having become accustomed to defending the things that mattered to you, you found yourself protective of this little community your dad would have dismissed as communist had he had the chance to see and unfairly judge it. Sleeping without your boots on, your feet rubbing over the bare cotton tucked up in blankets, had been a pleasure you had finally remembered how to enjoy.

Marla, though. Marla has always had a flare for the dramatic and surprisingly poor judgement for someone who has lived this long through the end of the world. She was a literal child on outbreak day, as opposed to your wisened 16 years, and you suspected she may have stopped developing around that point. Her complete lack of maturity, her ability to wonder blindly into abject terror just to unblinkingly fight her way out of it, was endearing so long as there weren’t clickers on the edge of the tree line. She had decided your tendency to isolate was ‘making you weird’ and every lunch time for the last four days had arrived on your front step to march you down to the mess hall. You suspected the real reason was to check out the newcomers, under the cover of altruism. You respected her tenacity, even as you resented her for it.

Four and a half days into her crusade to integrate you into any available social group, she waved a spoon in front of your face.

‘This is no good,’ she assessed, gesturing to your eyes, then your bottom lip. You sucked it in between your teeth and reminded yourself she had been the one hauling you over the sides of mountains to get you here.

‘Be more specific,’ you said and she grinned.

‘You don’t smile when you’re in here, your eyes go all squinty,’ she observed.

You felt something click in your jaw and you reached up to push hard on the condyle, the masseter tight as a bow string.

‘Just so many people,’ you said, pushing your stew around in your bowl. ‘It doesn’t make you nervous?’

‘I go through that gate most days of the week,’ Marla replied, her tone passive but somehow assuring. ‘The way Tommy runs it, no-one’s getting through that check point with anything less than a Nobel peace prize.’

Out of the corner of your eye you watched as Joel offered his left overs to his daughter, the two of them sitting alone at the end of a nevertheless crowded table. He sat hunched, favouring his right side, his arm tucked in hard against his ribs. If he leant too far over in the wrong direction he grimaced, and you noticed this all in the fleeting glances you allowed yourself while Marla forced you to ingest first your stew, and then her gossip.

‘What do you know about them?’ you asked, cringing when Marla turned her full body to peer in their direction. It wouldn’t have surprised you if she pulled binoculars out of her cargo pants to get a better look.

‘Him and Tommy spent a lot of time apart, when Tommy was a firefly.’

You sucked air into your lungs, sure for a moment they had just collapsed.

‘He’s not anymore, not for a long time,’ Marla defended. ‘He didn’t…he doesn’t follow their philosophy.’

‘You’ve been talking to Maria,’ you observed. She started plucking at the skin around her fingernails. You smiled at her, warmth in your voice. ‘Ray not the only one doing reconnaissance?’ And you rolled your r for dramatic effect, and because sometimes you could be quite funny, actually.

Marla grinned, busted. ‘It’s. It’s important for me to know, when I’m on patrol it’s about protecting? People? So I need to know about…the people.’ You wanted to give her a standing ovation, the bullshit was so exceptional. Instead you lifted a hand to her shoulder, sent affection down your arm and under your palm, where you hoped you deposited it into her muscle.

‘Maria’s not a fan,’ you said, and watched Marla acknowledge this fact, then make her way around it.

‘He’s different to Tommy, I guess. She’s made her preferences clear.’

You let that sit for a second. You thought about telling her what Maria had said, keeping his daughter in the dark, but you felt a need to keep the seed unwatered, not to throw it any fertile ground.

‘He’s hot,’ you confirmed, simply, and she blushed.

‘He is though?’ She grinned. ‘I’m going to ask Tommy to swing him onto my patrol.’

‘He patrols?’ You asked, alarmed, noting again the way he was so stiff on his right side as he pushed his chair back behind him.

‘He’s a protector,’ she replied, and you both watched as he stood from the table, waited for his daughter to follow, then shuffled off alone and away. ‘Like me,’ Marla finished, reaching for your unfinished stew.

—

You knew, in this new world you all now made the best of, that curiosity was a dangerous thing. Remembered the young boy from two apartments down who wanted to see the sun fully set without dipping behind walls. The girl who thought the FEDRA soldier with warm green eyes might have been a softie under all the armour, all the hardship. The kid who wanted to understand why the fence was humming, and put his hand out to see what would happen. Curiosity was a dangerous, tricky, deceitful thing in a world already lousy with nasty surprises. You kept your head down and your mouth shut, and it had got you this far. You would have to be perfectly happy not knowing anything about Tommy’s older possibly homicidal but kind of limpy on one side brother. That was your plan.

It, too, failed almost immediately. It wasn’t fate or divine intervention that delivered him to you, it was Tommy, on your front porch with Joel over his shoulder, Tommy’s smile bright and benevolent and Joel’s grimace trained solely on your doorstep.

‘Evening’, Tommy said, and not for the first time you imagined him in a cowboy hat just so he could dip it to you like a gentleman. ‘You met my brother?’

You shook your head, having apparently swallowed glue sometime between opening the door and this moment.

‘He’s grumpy and he’s hurt,’ Tommy continued, undeterred by his older brother’s scoff of disapproval. ‘Not necessarily in that order.’

‘Hurt how?’ you asked, stepping forward before remembering yourself and immediately stepping back.

‘Not hurt at all,’ Joel said, and his voice was so much softer than you imagined, a gentle rumble, that carried with it years of struggle. You tried with every atom on your skin to stop the goosebumps. Failed.

‘Not recent, but acting up. The cold. The walkin’ Tommy continued. ‘Maria said you work miracles, so thought I’d give you the devil’n see what you can do.’

You smiled at Maria’s assessment, wanting to ask after her but sensing from the pure recalcitrance leeching off Joel that it would be the thing that finally made him turn and march home.

Instead you stepped aside, gesturing into the warmth of your home. Tommy smiled again, whacked Joel on the shoulder and down your front steps. ‘Behave,’ he called out behind him, to which his brother very purposefully did not respond.

You realised as soon as he was in it that your house suited Joel. It was a little shabby, a lot rough around the edges, but it smelt like warm wood and furniture oil and you’d tried to keep things ordered for the sake of appearances. He stopped in the entryway, his eyes swivelling from your lounge room to the bedroom doors, and you stepped forward and around him to get to your treatment room. ‘In here,’ you said, and turned your back so you wouldn’t see if he’d rolled his eyes at you. You felt him approach behind you, heard a floorboard creak as if it sang just for him, and held your breath.

‘The hell is that?’ he asked, and you turned to see him pointing at your apocalyptic massage table.

‘You get in the middle, the towels hold you up,’ you said, seeing it now through his eyes and dying inside, just a little.

‘Ain’t getting on that,’ he said, plainly. ‘Thing’ll collapse and take us both with it.’

You sighed. He was hot but he was also annoying. He was a perfect match for Marla.

‘You haven’t even said where you’re hurt,’ you said, and he stopped you.

‘Ain’t hurt.’

‘Where Tommy thinks you’re hurt,’ you said. You watched him cock his knee out to the side, shifting his weight to one leg and standing with his hands on his hips. He seemed bigger than the room could possibly withstand. His jaw tensed as he thought.

‘Shoulder,’ he said eventually, having apparently assessed that divulging this information wouldn’t likely result in instant death.

‘I can do your shoulder in a chair,’ you offered, and immediately regretted your choice of words. He raised his eyebrow.

‘Chair any less collapsible?’ he asked.

‘Not at all. But you’ll have less distance to fall,’ you said, and his eyes sparkled ever so slightly when he laughed.

Except that the kitchen was smaller than your treatment room and somehow you’d never noticed it, and with the table and chairs in the centre of the room suddenly it felt like Joel took up all the space. You contemplated this as he shuffled around you, how Maria at nearly eight months gone could feel petite in comparison. You realised you hadn’t seen her at the mess hall for a few days, that you should check on her.

‘I gotta take my shirt off?’ Joel muttered, with his back turned to you. When you didn’t immediately answer he turned to look at you over his shoulder, and where you thought you’d see ridicule you saw only a guarded vulnerability. For a second. Before he turned away.

‘Have you never had a massage?’ you asked, and he sat heavy down on the chair.

‘Not really my thing,’ he said, in such a way that did not engender any follow up questions.

‘You don’t have to take it off’, you said. ‘Whatever you’re more comfortable with.’

You realised then he had already decided, settled as he was with his back to you and his hands resting in his lap. He closed his eyes, almost as though he was bracing himself.

‘Go on then,’ he said.

You glanced at the ceiling. Events of the last twenty years already had you pretty much convinced there was no higher power, but in this moment you appealed to it, regardless. You had no idea what had your heart racing so fast. You flexed your fingers to try and get them to steady before you touched him.

His right shoulder was indeed tight, but you knew almost immediately that wasn’t where the pain was coming from. Over his flannel you felt along the clavicle, up to the back of his neck, swept down across his scapula. When you reached further, down towards his waist, he shifted, clearing his throat. You pulled back.

‘Said shoulder,’ he said. At this you rolled your eyes, finally having enough of the man who you were helping for free being gruff in your own kitchen. At least Maria made you tea when she came over.

‘It’s all connected,’ you said, prodding perhaps a little more roughly at his deltoid. ‘You need to think of your body like a series of links in a chain. One gets weak and the rest of them up and down from it have to compensate.’

‘Mmm,’ he replied, and you weren’t sure how but he made it sound dismissive. You felt heat on your cheeks.

‘The shoulder doesn’t just mean here,’ you said, putting your hand on the expanse of his shoulder blade. ‘Shoulder pain can be neck, jaw, back.’

‘You go to school for this?’ He asked, changing the subject.

‘I did yeah, before… Before.’

You took a step closer, repositioning yourself so that you could take his wrist in your hand and hold his arm forward, over his chest. With your other hand you pushed into the rhomboid, felt the push back of the muscle as it fought you to release.

You realised, after several seconds of holding him, that you were basically hugging him from behind. You wondered if he could feel your breath on the back of his neck. You wondered if he liked it. This close you could smell the soap he used, the sweat on the back of his neck mingling with the warmth of his cotton shirt. You released him, tension now effectively transferred from his body to yours, and he let out a long exhale.

‘You favour this side,’ you said, before you’d really thought about it.

‘Do I?’ He asked. ‘You notice things like that?’ In that moment you were glad to be behind him, so that he couldn’t see the blush storming up your cheeks.

You set upon his trapezius, then, digging your fingers into his flesh, found it more pliable than his shoulder. You heard his sharp intake of breath.

‘Tender?’ you asked, but he didn’t answer other than to grunt. You continued, suddenly realising you were dangerously close to running your hands through his hair and worse, wanting to.

He hissed then, and you stopped. ‘Sorry,’ you said, automatically, and he pushed your hand away, but not unkindly.

‘Was carrying some wood on it,’ he said, reaching up himself to poke and prod at the tender spot. ‘Tommy was there, saw me tryin’ta be a hero. Called me out on it, said I don’t know my age.’

‘Sure you weren’t showing off for the sake of your little brother?’ you asked. He grinned.

‘Not for him, but maybe for the other guys gathered round helpin’.

You put your hand on his left shoulder as you came around in front of him, pushing the table out of the way with your hip as you went. ‘Here, I just need to…’ you said, as he pushed his chair backwards to make space for you, and you used his good shoulder as an anchor when you pivoted to turn back towards him. He looked up at you, big brown eyes underneath arching brows. You saw his hands lift from his lap as if to steady you, as if to grab you by the hips and grind you down on his cock.

You swallowed. Took a second to wonder where that had come from, before you lifted your hands to his right arm and folded it again in front of him. ‘Just need to get a better angle,’ you explained, almost under your breath now that you were facing him, and he nodded quickly at you. For a moment he just gazed up at you, and you felt more naked than if he had stripped you down right there in your kitchen. You felt relief when he closed his eyes.

‘So when you say carrying some wood…’

‘Three planks, not heavy just awkward. Used to be able to do it easy.’

You cupped his trapezius, easier to get to from the front, and gently lifted the muscle up with a squeeze. Close to him like this, his face level with your chest, you felt more than heard the rush of his air as he gasped. His eyes flew open and shot straight to yours, his mouth dropping open in surprise.

You wanted to lean down and suck on his bottom lip. You felt the tremble return to your hands. A synapse, firing off randomly somewhere behind your earlobe, reminded you when the client was in pain to keep them talking. You swallowed twenty years worth of ache, and cleared your throat.

‘You a carpenter?’ you asked, and for some reason thought of Jesus, and of Joel wrapped in a loin cloth, and of nailing yourself to the cross if you couldn’t fucking get your shit together.

‘I was a contractor,’ he said, closing his eyes now that you were no longer actively torturing him.

‘What are you now?’ you asked, feeling a click under your fingers as the joint finally settled. He exhaled, the relief causing him to finally relax just a little, his whole frame leaning forward toward you, such that you worried his head would collide with your breast.

‘Old,’ he said, after a beat.

‘All fixed,’ you said, taking a step back and colliding inelegantly with the kitchen table. Later, after you’d refused any and all payment and he had promised to owe you a favour regardless, after you’d walked him to the front door and shown him out, after you’d gone into your treatment room and stood staring at your massage table as if it had any answers, you went and stood in the doorway to your kitchen. The table was still askew, the other chairs dangerously close to scuffing the walls. Your gaze lingered, though, on the chair where he had just been. You found yourself reluctant to move it, wanting to sit down in it to try and keep his warmth. You laughed at yourself, wondered what Marla would say, tried to practice how you could tell her the story at lunch tomorrow.

You flicked the light off before you went to bed. You’d move the chair back tomorrow. Maybe.

#pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x reader #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller #no y/n

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creedslove · 6 months

Note

*ABOUT JOEL*

I know Halloween is gone, BUT... I only can think about:

Stablished relationship

Trick or treat, Joel father of Sarah and adoptive dad of Ellie (reader and Joel adopted her)

Joel goes as cowboy

Reader as cheerleader

After trick or treat, party at Maria and Tommy's

Some stupid dude dressed as quarterback hits on reader and Joel tries to interfere but Tommy doesn't let him be violent

As it happens, reader says that's she's married and leaves the dude without believing and goes to kiss Joel in a VERY sexy way

Reader and Joel get REALLY worked up and go have a quicky in the bathroom and the guy listens to it by coincidence, and when he sees reader and Joel leaving, says to Tommy: "I wish I was that guy"

No outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

A/N: I fucking love your mind ❤️

• the girls had been driving Joel mad through the whole week, they couldn't even wait for Halloween, the small but happy Miller household was completely overwhelmed by talks of costumes, trick or treating and Halloween adventures

• the girl weren't little kids anymore, you and Joel knew there were only a couple of years left before they would gladly exchange an evening with the family for some lame teen Halloween party and god forbid sexy costumes

• Joel suffered from severe anxiety just to imagine his precious girls leaving home in revealing clothes, after all, he was a man who suffered from anticipation

• so in the end, as much as you all were tired of all the chat about that one specific thing, you were also happy they were so into trick or treating

• which went great, and as soon as they were tucked in bed - pretending to sleep to pig out on all the candy they got, while you and Joel pretended not to know so you could go out - you both got ready for Tommy's party

• Joel isn't a costume man, but he saw you in your cheerleader costume, that man was at a loss of words, if it were up to him, he would take you right then and there, not allowing you to leave the room

• but you reminded him the girls were home, and you wouldn't be able to make a lot of noise, so you promised Joel you could both go to your old apartment, the one you lived in before moving in; it was empty and it had a bed, enough for what Joel wanted to do with you

• and at that promise Joel agreed to dress up, so the best you two could put up, was a cowboy, which did not disappoint, Joel looked so fucking good

• and that man desired you all the time, you could see the lust in his eyes, loving how much he wanted you throughout the party, whenever you glanced at Joel, he was eating you up in his mind

• things were fun until some random guy dressed as a quarterback approached you; he immediately began making jokes about Halloween couple costumes and how you and him should be a couple, which made you roll your eyes at him

• you dressed like that for Joel and Joel only, knowing you would have that exact effect you did on him, but any other unwanted attention you made yourself clear about not wanting it at all

• but the guy was insisting and Joel spotted a man getting all cozy towards his girl, he felt his blood boiling and the moment he tried walking towards you both, Tommy held his brother's arm and asked him not to make a scene

• Joel grunted annoyed, he didn't like that scene at all, but was so surprised to see you swaying your hips and walking towards him once more, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and giving Joel a deep kiss

• your man couldn't resist you, he had been trying to hold himself back so bad during the night, but it was tough, it was so fucking tough. All he did was wrap his arms around your waist and pull you closer to him, kissing you as deeply and intently as he could, his grip was tight around you

• he dragged you to the bathroom and locked the door, being unable to wait for your time alone and making you scream and moan for him, as much as he tried to muffle your sounds

• outside, the quarterback stared at Tommy who embarrassedly shrugged, not knowing how to explain what was going on

• you and Joel exited the bathroom all red and flushed, both of you chuckling and giggling and you couldn't wait to get out of there and spent the rest of the night with your man

____

(to me that's Joel Miller dressed as a cowboy and no one can convince me otherwise)

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal headcanon #pedro pascal headcanons #joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #joel miller headcanon #joel miller headcanons

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writing-for-marvel · 1 year

Text

Everyone’s Watching Him (But He’s Looking At Her) (2)

Actor!Bucky Barnes x Assistant!Fem!Reader

< < PART 1 | Series Masterlist | PART 3 > >

Summary: It’s Bucky’s big late night interview promoting his new movie, but when the interviewer asks a question which causes Bucky to storm off the set, you’re there to comfort him.

Warnings: idiots in love, hurt comfort, interviewer brings up questions which crosses Bucky’s boundaries, shy/insecure reader, soft fluff

Word count: 2.4k

A/N: this is dedicated to the beautiful and kind @blackwidownat2814 because I love you so much and I know you wanted more of these two! You said you haven’t been feeling the best lately so I hope this cheers you up, even just a little 💜 photo credit @deardjo, banners by @vase-of-lilies

Masterlist | Ask me anything! | Taglist | Library

“You’re on in five, Mr Barnes!” A voice calls to Bucky who’s getting ready in his dressing room.

Tonight’s a big night for him, appearing on Late Tonight with Alexander Pierce, his first late night talk show interview to promote his newest movie, and though the occasion is a significant one, Bucky looks as laid back as if it's just another day.

Bucky’s manager, Maria, is on what Bucky calls one of her rampages, listing off a million and one last minute reminders about what to endorse in the interview and the specific phrasing the producer wants him to use when introducing the movie.

You know it by heart as you were the one practising with him in the car on the way to the studio. You knew Bucky was better at memorising lines than he had let on, he is a professional actor after all, but it made your stomach tingle with butterflies to think he was purposely messing up the lines to get you to laugh and playfully reprimand him.

As Maria continues her one sided conversation, Bucky looks over her shoulder at you and makes a silly face, poking out his tongue, making you chuckle. He’s such an idiot sometimes, but he never fails to make you smile, even during a time where he should arguably be tense and not paying any mind to relaxing your nerves.

“As always I’ve given them a list of topics which are off limits but if he asks you anything you don’t want to answer...” Maria continues, you’re unsure if she’s immune to Bucky’s goofiness and is ignoring him, or if she’s too preoccupied to even notice.

“I know the drill Maria. Don’t you trust me?”

Maria gives Bucky a look, and even though she has her back to you, you know her well enough to sense the stern glare she’s throwing at him. Though, she’s never been intimidating enough to scare Bucky who’s still cheekily grinning like a ten year old thinking they’ve gotten away with a prank.

“You’re a mischief maker, so no I don't, not when it comes to live interviews.” Her phone starts ringing, saving Bucky from the rest of her spiel. “And fix your goddamn tie before you go on, you look like a troublesome schoolboy!” She calls back into the dressing room as she excuses herself to take the call.

“C’mere.” You step closer to Bucky and pull him the rest of the way towards you by tugging on the end of his tie. When he’s this close the scent of his deep, smokey cologne seems to overpower all your other senses and makes it hard to focus. “I swear I’ve shown you how to do this a thousand times.”

“Maybe I just like when you pull me close and do it for me.” Your cheeks heat like the sun and you shyly break eye contact to look at the floor, a feeling that’s all too familiar when you’re around Bucky, but is still a reaction you haven’t mastered in concealing from him. You suspect he does it on purpose.

You’re saved from having to form a sentence in your flustered state by someone shouting “Barnes, two minutes!” from the hall.

“That’s my cue. See you in a bit.” You can sense the smile in his voice, even when you’re bashfully staring at the ground.

You turn and watch him stride out of the room, your arms finding their way around your middle, hugging yourself as if Bucky’s departure results in you losing a part of yourself you’re desperately trying to hold onto.

Before he can disappear into the corridor, Bucky looks back at you, an instinctive smile tugging at the corners of his mouth when he finds you already looking at him. He shoots you a wink before making his way towards the stage.

You turn the television in the dressing room on to watch the interview, but you can hear the clapping and cheering of the audience resounding through the entire studio as Bucky’s introduced.

He aces the first part of the interview, introducing the film word for word from the script provided by the movie producers, and describing the action packed teaser scene shown for the first time on the show. You breathe a sigh of relief as they cut to the advertisements, knowing everything so far has gone to plan and Bucky only has to get through a couple more minutes before he’ll rejoin you in his dressing room.

When the show comes back from the ad break, Bucky and Alex are laughing about something he must have said before the cameras were rolling. He looks happy, relaxed, that infectious smile of his plastered from ear to ear.

“So, we all want to know, have you got anyone special in your life? Is the devilishly handsome, notorious ladies man Bucky Barnes single?” Alexander asks eagerly and the crowd buzzes in anticipation waiting for his response.

Your stomach churns with a new wave of nerves - you know for a fact that this is on the list of no go topics, yet the host has no qualms in asking it.

Bucky doesn’t let the concern for the hosts' blatant disregard of his boundaries translate to his features, but you know him well enough to tell that the forced smile, small chuckle he lets slip out and slight change in his posture means he’s extremely uncomfortable with the probing question.

“I like to keep my personal life private. I already share so much of my life with my fans, but there are certain things I want to keep just for myself.” Bucky answers firmly, maintaining the strict boundary whilst also remaining polite.

There’s a moment of respite from your nerves, believing Bucky’s answer to be sufficient to shut down whatever Pierce is attempting to gain from the unsolicited question, but his next words bring the anxiety back with full vigour.

“I think that’s code for: yes, he’s in a relationship.” Pierce addresses the crowd, who starts ‘awwing’ in response. “Want to let us know who the lucky lady is?”

“No, that’s not what I-” Bucky tries to insist, but Pierce rudely interrupts to ask the next question. You can see Bucky’s jaw clench, even through the small screen you're currently watching from. Though he’s simply a room away, it feels like an entire galaxy in distance when he’s in front of cameras and you’re unable to do anything to subside his annoyance which is quickly turning into rage.

“The other burning question our fans had for you was the origin of your prosthetic arm - you’ve never explained how you lost your limb and of course we’re all intrigued by the mystery. I think now is the perfect opportunity to set the record straight.” Pierce looks at Bucky expectantly as if he had simply asked what day of the week it was.

If there is one hard no Bucky would never answer publically it was the story surrounding how he lost his arm.

You can see the anger bubbling in his chest, but most of all the pain, the grievous misery he’s trying so hard to disguise in his eyes. He desperately doesn’t want to break down in front of the entire world.

“That’s not a question I’m willing to answer.” Bucky replies in a faint, cracking voice. Standing up, to the gasps and murmurs of the audience, Bucky takes off his microphone pack, leaving it on the host's desk, and walks off the stage without another word.

You hear Pierce claim “I guess that’s just Bucky Barnes living up to his roguish ways” with a laugh before shutting off the tv, scrambling to gather your things and go find where Bucky headed off to when the door swings open.

Bucky stands tall and broad in the doorway, but you’ve never seen him look so small.

As he closes the door behind him you hear a sniffle and your instincts immediately kick in - he’s barely turned around to face you again before you’ve pulled him into a bone crunching hug. Your heart breaks sharply in your chest as you hear the wrenching sob he finally lets out.

Tears sting behind your eyes as you feel Bucky’s chest heave with his weeping, but you do your best to pull yourself together. You have to be the strong one here, Bucky’s the one in unimaginable pain.

The door bursts open but Bucky doesn’t let go of you to look at who it is. Maria stands there with a combination of fury and concern mixed in her eyes, as well as sympathy as she observes Bucky’s large frame crying into your shoulder. She silently raises her eyebrows as if to ask if you think he’ll be okay.

“I’ll take care of him, you go berate them for what they did.” You suggest, and even though it’s unlike Maria to do anything without disagreeing and recommending her own approach first, she nods and backs out of the dressing room.

You stand there, softly rubbing Bucky’s back and whispering sweet nothings into his ear, as he cries into your shoulder. Your heart, which Bucky already owns completely, shatters alongside his.

“How could he?” Bucky asks with an invigorated sob. You wish you could alleviate all his pain, even by taking it on yourself, just so he wouldn’t have to bear the burden. You squeeze him tighter in attempts to convey the sentiment.

However, you’re unsure how to answer his question because you yourself don’t understand how someone could be so cold-hearted to shamelessly mortify Bucky with the most traumatic event of his life in front of the entire world, especially after specifically prohibiting the topic.

“I dunno Buck, but he’ll never get the opportunity again, you hear me? You’ll never have to be in the same room as that shithead ever again.” You hope your words bring Bucky some comfort, but as this wound is so raw, the ache so fresh, you’re not sure there are any combination of words that can stop his pain.

You stay with him as long as he needs you to, slowly rubbing circles over his back, until eventually his sobs subside and his breathing slows to normal.

“C’mon, let me drive you home.”

“Home sounds good.” Bucky comments, but by the way he’s nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck and how he’s holding you tight against him, it doesn’t seem like he’s in a rush to get there.

After a few extra moments where you cherish simply holding each other without Bucky’s movements as he wept, you pull back, taking an additional second to admire just how blue his eyes are, even if they are tinted slightly red from crying, and how they look at you with a fondness that makes your knees weak, you whisper “let’s get outta here”.

The drive to Bucky’s house isn’t too long, especially this late at night. You attempt to prevent Bucky from reading any headlines about the situation, but with the exception of tossing his phone out the window of the moving car, there’s not much you can do.

“I swear it’s all everyone sees, what Maria loves to push for publicity - the supposed playboy with a mysterious past because he won’t talk about how he lost his fucking arm, I hate it.” His voice is full of exasperation and it makes you want to pull him back into another hug.

“It’s not what everyone sees, Buck.”

“Really, who doesn’t?” Me, you want to declare, but you question the implications of saying it aloud and the word dies in the back of your throat. You’re his assistant, just his assistant, and it’s inappropriate and unprofessional for you to infer otherwise.

“The people who genuinely care about you and know the real you - your Ma, Becks.” Is what you say instead. Your eyes are focussed on the dimly lit road ahead of you so you miss the downcast look Bucky throws your way, as if he was hoping you’d have answered his question differently.

“Yeah, I guess.” Is all he mumbles before sitting in quiet contemplation for the rest of the short drive to his house.

The silence gives your mind time to regret what you didn’t say, and wish for that time back again. Will there ever be a perfect time to tell him how you feel? How he makes your cheeks ache with how much he gets you to smile in his presence; how your eyes are always searching for him in a crowded room, and that your stomach somersaults when out of everyone, you’re the person he makes eye contact with before smiling; how no matter what time, day or night, you’d drop everything and anything if he needed you.

As if sensing your mental suffering, Bucky places his hand atop yours on the gear stick, still not saying a word, but the action itself calms the storm of anxiety building in your chest.

You pull up in his driveway and turn off the car, unsure if you should get out and help him inside, or if he just wants his space. You give him time to make up his mind, but your doubt is answered almost as soon as the rumbling of the engine ceases.

“Can you stay with me tonight? I don’t wanna be alone right now.” You’re sure you’ll never be able to say no to Bucky Barnes, but when his eyes look as fragile as a bubble floating in the wind, ready to pop at any given second, all you want is to pull him close and keep him safe forever.

Behind that fragility is uncertainty, unsure if you’ll agree to stay or not, and even though you weren’t sure it was possible, your heart cracks a little more after the events of the night knowing that he doubts whether you’d do absolutely anything for him.

“Whatever you need, Buck.”

“I just want you.”

“You have me. You’ll always have me.” And you mean that, with your entire being.

You get out of the car and snake your arm around his back, he does the same to you. You walk arm in arm through his front door, treasuring the warmth of his closeness and forcing the romantic implications to the back of your mind.

Those can be discussed tomorrow. Right now, he just needs you.

Part 3 > >

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sunflowersteves · 1 year

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forgiving you was easy || j.m.

part three of ain't no sunshine

pairing || joel miller x f!sunshine!reader

summary || who knew Joel Miller would be jealous of the entire town of Jackson, Wyoming.

author's note || chapter threeee! sorry it took me a bit! i was on spring break and then a lost a little motivation for writing for this series and joel but im back! better than ever! this isn't edited either so i'm sorry for any mistakes. can be read as stand alone but follows a series!

warnings || jealousy, angst, fluff, insecurities, dependency, joel is so in-love, SMUT, soft dom!joel, cockwarming, a little sub!joel if you squint, unprotected sex, food play, [18+ only]

part two || series masterlist || masterlist

You know I'll always love you And I can't forget the days when you were mine Forgiving you is easy

The warmth of spring in Wyoming settles in between the fluffy green grass and the perk of white from the wildflowers that start to bloom. Spring was always your favorite, especially after the calming storm of the harsh, frosty winter.

Ellie and Joel could always tell the changing of the seasons when you were around—like an alarm clock that pleasantly buzzed against their ears. The days they watched you with a book in your hand, hot tea in the other, and a blanket snuggled over your lap were over.

Instead, you were humming along to a tune outside as you tended to your garden. You would fluff out an old blanket to have a picnic under the cedar trees. Spring was just your season, and Joel and Ellie’s smiles couldn’t be brighter when they saw just how much you thrived.

However, Joel hadn’t had the pleasure to watch the seasons change this year. He couldn’t watch the late evenings of watching you and Ellie catch fireflies on the back porch. He hadn’t seen the new sundresses you had traded with one of the taylor’s in town. He hadn’t had the pleasure of going on a hike near the river and skipping rocks until your arm hurt too much.

It wasn’t like it was entirely his fault that he hadn’t seen you. He had been trying for the past two months to get your attention but seemingly failed every time. He knew that you being injured spooked the entire town—hell, it spooked him too. He would argue that it scared him shitless more than anybody else in the entire world.

But everyone wanted their chance to hang out with you—the world was full of violence and chaos, something that many people in the town had forgotten, and the reminder of your injuries had struck them intensely. Everyone in Jackson, Wyoming wanted every ounce of your attention.

Tommy wanted your help on a surprise for Maria. Maria wanted your input on the things happening around the town. Jesse wanted to show you a new weapon he had gotten. Dina wanted to ask for more supplies for the new cabin she built. Even when you were back at your own cabin, Ellie wanted to show you all of the new things she had discovered at school. That last one, though, Joel didn’t mind so much.

And you. You. You were as happy as you could be—a smile plastered onto your face and a sweet voice ringing out saying, “I’d be happy to.” Joel’s sunshine—the person that he was truly starting to miss and crave.

Joel felt as though was about to simmer over like a pot of water that was about to completely boil over. Joel could feel you slowly start to detach yourself from him—the wall seemingly becoming much higher.

You never caressed his face anymore in the mornings. You had been waking up too early that your mind fogged over with sleep, no longer cuddling into his side. You never kissed him goodnight, already asleep in the bed. You never hugged him behind the waist when he cooked anymore.

That was just the way things were when more than half of the damn town wanted your constant attention. He couldn’t really blame anyone else either because he understood. You were the glue to everyone’s smiles and laughter, the town was undoubtedly happier with you around.

He knew it wasn’t on purpose. He knew you couldn’t help it. But, you were his glue too.

A deep sullen feeling rushed over his chest as he thought about the little time he had spent with you. His hands itched to feel the soft plains of your skin again, to hold your hand as you danced around in the kitchen.

He closed his eyes, and one of his hands gripped the couch so hard he thought the stuffing might fall out. His breathing was deep and labored, the lonely ache settling into his bones. He knew that all of this would soon pass, at least he hoped.

His fears always get the best of him, especially when all the people he has loved die or leave. The mere thought of you leaving was about to take seize of his chest and break it whole. You and Ellie were the family he thought he could never have, again. You were it for him.

“Good morning, handsome.” You made your way down the stairs and smiled at the fresh pot of coffee.

Joel could only grunt as a response.

You arched an eyebrow, though. While that might be a normal response to everyone else, you were always greeted with a deep scratchy, ‘good morning, darlin’.” You poured yourself some of the coffee into your favorite mug—bright yellow sunflowers that covered the ceramic glass.

You looked over your shoulder to see Joel completely lost in thought. A frown sat right on top of his pretty features, the curve of his lips was almost starting to become red. “Joel?”

The sweet plains of your voice seemed to catch him out of his daze. His eyes softened and the frown slowly disappeared from his lips at the sight of you in the kitchen. You still had your pajamas on and the sleep under your eyes was still a bit prominent.

“Sleep any good?” He watched you tiredly nod, knowing you just lied to his face. Even with the warmth that flowed through your body from being next to Joel, your sleepless nights were still taking a toll. He knew you weren’t getting good sleep, but he still wanted to make sure you were okay.

“No, you haven’t.” You open your mouth to retort something back, but the smile that shines on his face halts your jaw to stop. “You don’t have to lie to me, darlin’, I already know.”

You huff out in playful annoyance before sipping some of the sugary coffee. “You always seem to know, Miller.”

You saunter over to him, placing the coffee cup at the end table, and placing your knees over to rest near his thighs. His arms immediately find their home on your hips and he gives them a squeeze.

You smiled brightly at him, as you always did, and Joel couldn’t contain the pure happiness that flowed through his veins. He pressed a kiss to your cheek and trails his lips up to your nose and finally pecks the tip.

You giggle in his arms, your own hand resting along the back of his neck and shoulder. He lets himself contently sigh and his eyes flutter closed at the relaxed feeling. “Can’t seem to get you to myself.”

You raised an eyebrow as you start to press soft kisses to his jawline—feeling the gruff of his patchy beard. “What’s that?”

He opened one of his eyes, peeking to look at you. He huffed, almost childlike, at the thought of having to share you again. “You’ve been busy all week, darlin’. I jus’ haven’t seen you.”

You nodded, your hands making their way past his shoulders and down to his hardened chest. He groaned at the newly founded attention of your touches. His hands start to wander around your hips, one lowering to your side, while the other hand feels the plains of your stomach.

He could feel the desperation kick in between his chest and his heart. He whimpered at the feeling of your wet tongue skating across his neck. Your hot breath fanned up against the pulse point on his neck and his body couldn’t help itself as it puddled into you.

You nibbled right against the spot below his ear, knowing that would make him melt even further. You had realized through all of the messes that you were cleaning up around town that you missed him too. Even unbearingly, so.

You missed the way he would press his rough lips against your chest. You craved for the breakfasts he would make in the mornings and bringing you a tray of it to your shared bed.

Your heart thumped across your chest as his hand trailed up underneath your pajama shirt. Then, as if the universe was out to get the two of you, you heard the call of your name and stopped the assault on his neck.

“Y’all in there? I just need some herbs for the lunch I’m makin’ for Maria.” Tommy calls from the front door.

Joel’s hands tightened incredibly fast around your hips. The grit of his teeth is almost striking and his tongue snaps against the roof of his mouth. “Don’t you fuckin’ dare open that door.”

You sighed. Joel could tell that you were contemplating on letting Tommy think that no one was home. Something flashed between your irises, though—something that he couldn’t quite see. Slowly, you pulled yourself out of his grasp, so slow that he almost didn’t feel it.

But then he felt cold—it was harsh and piercing as the warmth from your body dissipated. You walked over to the front door and opened it up. You started chatting with Tommy about the garden before letting him in.

Tommy had even greeted his older brother, but he didn’t say anything. He wasn’t sure that he could without blowing up in his face. So, he stayed silent with a grind of his jaw and a squint of his eyes.

He watched you and Tommy make your way to the backyard, all while Joel sat on the couch, alone once more.

═ ∘◦❦◦∘ ═

Joel was pissed—anger bursting through his chest and almost falling out of his ears in steam. His anger wasn’t regarded at you, never you. He just couldn’t help but be so irate at the entire town around him—even his own flesh and blood.

After Tommy had talked to you about parsley for ten-fucking-minutes, he had the audacity to ask another favor. He grits his teeth together even harder before as you and Tommy made your way back through the house and right out the door. Tommy had said something to him, too, but he couldn’t listen. He couldn’t listen as you gave him a guilty smile—one that shined a promise that you would be back soon.

Joel had just about been stretched paper thin. He was warring on a side that showed his mean and off-putting nature. He stood up, almost about to pack all of yours and Ellie’s bags so he can take you three far the fuck away from Jackson, Wyoming. He had never been to Nebraska. Maybe it would be just as nice and calming as Wyoming was.

He shook his head, though. His thoughts were always calculating and stirring in his head. He couldn’t take Jackson away from you, no matter how hard he wanted some peace and quiet. Wyoming was your home now—including his. His dusted, sour heart couldn’t even bear that.

He had decided he had just about enough.

Joel got up from the couch, his knees cracking at the still position he had been in for over an hour—he had been patiently waiting for your return.

He heard someone tumble down the stairs just as he was about to walk out the door. He then turned around to see Ellie grabbing a piece of toast from the kitchen. Damn, she was getting quicker and quicker these days. She had grown up so much since they had settled down in Jackson.

She stopped, though, looking him up and down. “Oh my god, would you just tell her already?” Ellie was exasperated, almost laughing at the old man in front of her.

Joel could only stare, blinking occasionally. “You two are a mess, sometimes.”

“What are you talkin’ about, kid?” He huffed. He was trying to hide from her, hoping she wouldn’t notice the sullen pining he had been doing for the past couple of months.

“You love her so much, it’s gross.” She fake gagged.

She noticed that his eyebrows couldn’t be any more furrowed. Joel protested. “I do love ‘er. I’m just—I don’t know. You know I’m shit at feelings, kid.”

She crossed her arms. “Joel, even I’ve noticed you two haven’t been around each other and I can’t see for shit.” She leaned forward and patted his upper arm—it was the highest she could reach.

“Just tell her you miss her, man.” With that, she walked up to the door. “By the way, I’m staying at Cat’s. She’s a new friend from school.”

Joel opened his mouth to protest as you and Joel were supposed to make dinner that night, but Ellie didn’t even hear him. She was already out the door and halfway across the lawn with the biggest smile on her face.

Joel couldn’t believe he was going to tell himself this, but Ellie was right. The only problem was that he needed to get you alone.

═ ∘◦❦◦∘ ═

After Tommy had picked out the spicy he wanted, he told you in a hushed tone about his new idea as a surprise for Maria. You raised an eyebrow at the secrecy but nodded nonetheless when he asked if you could talk with him at his house.

“Sorry, I know you wanted a day with your family. Ellie jus’ likes to blab out stuff to Maria. She can’t keep a secret for shit.” You couldn’t deny that one bit. You loved Ellie and the lack of filter she has, but she, in fact, can’t ever keep secrets.

You smiled as big as you could. Despite the change in plans, everything was still genuine for you. A shimmering spark shot through your heart at the fact that so many people in Jackson cared about you and were excited to see you well again. You appreciated each and every one of them.

It had been five after seven o’clock by the time you had come back to the house. Your limbs were utterly spent from the day you had had. All you wanted to do was crawl into bed with Joel and never have to deal with anyone else ever again—besides Ellie, of course.

You sprawled yourself across the couch, a little sigh leaving your lips. Your body ached from practically standing on your feet all day. Just as you were about to inevitably get up and go make dinner, spices and savor hit your nose.

You turn your head to see Joel standing in the kitchen—an apron hung around his neck as he hummed a tune. You guessed it was Johnny Cash by the way his vocal cords clung to every sound.

You stood there for while, leaning on the doorway, and watched as he continued to cook a meal. Tears sprung to your eyes, the thoughtfulness of the man in front of you had never ceased to amaze you.

Instead of kicking back his legs and watching a movie to wait for you to get home and make a meal as most men do, he immediately took on the task like no other. You maybe had to show him how to cook, but he was quite a fast learner.

He finally looked over, his eyes were wide at the startling presence of you by the door. “Darlin’! You jus’ about gave me a heart attack.”

You laughed and shook your head before going over and wrapping your arms around his waist. He sucked in his breath at the feeling of your hands against his frame. Everything felt right again, everything felt perfect.

He let the onions sauté a bit too long as he let the moment of your arms around him fully sink in. He didn’t want to take any more moments with you for granted—not like he did such a thing previous to your accident.

“I’ve missed you, sweet girl.”

The nickname sends shivers down your spine, a gasp leaving your lips. You start to press small kisses against his shoulder blade and breathe in the smell of whiskey and oak. “I’ve missed you too, cowboy.”

He turns off the stove and takes a spoon to push the onions onto two plates, nice and even. You almost pull him in a bit tighter, wanting to be as close to him as you possibly could. He turns around in your arms and presses a firm kiss against your lips.

You almost whine, though, from the quickness that his lips leave yours. “Dinner’s ready, darlin’.”

You grab the plate and go to sit down in your usual spot. Normally, there would be a chair between you and Joel so that Ellie could sit right in the middle. Joel shook his head, though.

“Ellie’s gone. She’s at Cat’s.”

Your eyes brightened with excitement. “Oh! Yes! She was telling me the other day that Cat is a tattoo artist and Ellie was thinking about—” You stopped mid-sentence from the disapproving sound that leaves his mouth.

You looked at him with a frown. “Hey, when Ellie turns eighteen next year you can’t just—”

“No.” He gruffs, shaking his head. “Not that. You’re just—you’re too far.”

Your mouth opens just a bit out of surprise. Joel’s eyes glance down at his lap for only a moment, before flicking up back into your eyes.

You stand there, for just a moment, trying to collect your thoughts. Before you know it, your legs are moving on their own and straddling his waist. He hums in contentment at the feeling of your body weight on top of his—the warmth of you already filling up his bones.

You were right where you needed to be.

You start to move to turn around and eat your food, but Joel stops you. He takes the plate out of your hand and places it on the table.

“I need you to stop movin’.” He looks at you with one eyebrow raised. Then, he saw the change in your demeanor almost immediately.

Your back straightened, your eyes dilated—you were a sight for sore eyes. You looked at him innocently, but he knew the darkness that swam through your eyes told him another story. “What do you mean, Joel?”

His hands gravitated toward your hips, giving them a gentle squeeze. “Don’t act all stupid on me, darlin’.”

He could feel his cock harden with each wiggle that his hips shift over his lap. Your crotch laid right on top of his—giving you access to the perfect amount of friction against his member.

“Fuck—” He whispers.

His cock was already weeping—practically begging for him to unleash and sink down into you. The sound of your mewl as you rocked back and forth was utterly ethereal to his ears. The pure desperation to be near you again—finally all to himself was almost too enticing.

He didn’t know what he needed first. “Please, baby—lemme—lemme jus’ feel you. I need to feel you so bad.”

You nod vigorously against his broad chest. “Need you too, Joel. N-Need you.”

You weren’t sure how much more you could say. Your mind was already slipping into an unconscious state of pure love and wanting at the humping of his lap. You would do anything and everything for the man underneath you.

Joel unzips his jeans and gently lifts his hips, with you on him, so he can shimmy them down his ankles. Your mouth begins to water as he takes out his pre-cum smeared, girthy-veined cock.

“Don’t move. What did I tell you ‘bout movin', hm?”

You open your mouth to protest, but it dies on your tongue. Joel just wanted to feel you. He just wanted your warm heat to sit on top of his cock—the sensations that rolled through you were almost too much to bear.

He just wanted you to sit pretty.

You moved your hips to shove your underwear to the side and slowly sunk down onto his cock. You both moaned in unison, his forehead leaning to press up against yours.

Joel wasn’t sure how much he could handle—his cock throbbing from your slick, wet core. He had missed this so much. He had missed you so much.

He could tell that the feelings were mutual from the juices that flowed down to his balls. He groaned at the vision that flushed through him. He pressed sweet kisses onto your temple and down to your jaw.

He grabbed a fork full of the steak that he had made. You giggled, opening your mouth and he fed the meat to you.

You hummed in delight, the flavor was so good and the meat was so tender. Joel just watched, mouth slightly open in awe. “Fuck, sweet girl. ‘M missed you.”

You whined, feeling absolutely full to the brim. You missed him too. You didn’t realize just how much your body craved the man in front of you.

You were starting to get impatient. You pressed your breasts right on top of his chest and wiggled around in his lap. Joel growls in your ear and rushes his hands to still your movements.

“What the fuck did I just say?”

You were able to get a full roll of your hips and your eyes almost rolled in the back of your head. “Joel, please, please. I-I can’t—”

“You gettin’ cock dumb, darlin’? Hmm?” He groaned at the clench your walls gave around his cock.

“Haven’t even done anythin’ and you’re already all stumped.” He had a shit-eating grin that spread across his face. He loved when you were needy—he loved when you were just as desperate as he was.

“Joel—I—please, Joel, please—” It was as if those were the only words you could say or do. You desperately claw at his chest and Joel just couldn’t resist.

“F-fuck darlin’, you’re fuckin’ squeezing me.” He grunts, shifting his hips to thrust into you fully. You let out a scream, hands clenching his shoulders and your nails dug into his skin through his shirt.

“I’ve got you, pretty girl, okay? I’ve got you, don’t worry.” He mutters that over and over again, his hands steading your hips in a rhythm. He shoved the cockwarming plan out the damn window when you beg so pretty.

Your jaw hung slack as Joel’s cock pierced you again and again, thrusting deep and hard. The chair underneath you creaked and rattled, but you paid no mind. “J-Joel–”

You could feel the tight coil begin to snap already, the long-absent months of his cock were taking a toll. He could feel the tightening of your walls and he damn near came at the sight. He watched as his cock completely disappeared into your wet little pussy.

Joel took some of the mashed potatoes onto his fingers and shoved them into your mouth. “Suck, baby, c’mon.”

You do right as you're told and suck on the garlic mashed potatoes—the ones that he knew were your favorite. Your eyes roll into the back of your head—the slick and spasm of your cunt makes Joel growl against your cheek.

“That’s it, sweet girl. I need you to cum, let it go. That’s it, pretty girl. You’re doing such a good job f’ me.”

You let yourself go in the pure pleasures of Joel Miller. Your walls clench once more and a rush of feelings flow through you—love and lust intertwining as one. Your juices spill all across his lap and squirt over to his shirt. He moans your name, almost too deep for you to hear.

He groaned loudly, yelling your name into your ear and spilling his seed inside of you. The rush of his thick, sticky cum that hits your cervix fills you even more than before. You whine into him as his thrusts begin to cease.

He snuggles right on top of you, pressing his forehead against yours. His chest heaved up and down—completely out of breath.

“I love you, sunshine.”

You giggled, wiping a bit of caramelized onion off of his hand. “I love you too, cowboy.”

The food was definitely cold by now, but Joel didn’t mind. As long as he had you, he never had to worry.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us smut #joel miller smut #smut #tlou #tlou fanfiction

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personasintro · 2 years

Text

monachopsis | 08

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; after receiving unpleasant news that doesn’t allow you to grow your family, your husband comes up with an idea that unfortunately involves his brother whom he despises

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: tattoo artist!yoongi x reader

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: angst, fluff, smut, mini series

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language, toxic parents (nothing new lol)

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 15k+

↳ chapter index

⇠ prev. | next ⇢

It's been two months and you still can't believe it.

You're not quite sure what you're going through. On the outside, you try to be happy and content, desperately trying to convince yourself that this is something you've been waiting for. The journey to get there has been messy and it affected you more than you could've ever imagined. But nobody knows that. Nobody knows about the inner battles you're facing every hour, even every minute of your day.

The little life growing inside of you is… an overwhelming feeling to say the least. It's a huge reminder.

Yeonseok is thrilled, and has been from the moment he found you standing in the bathroom, barely able to comprehend the news. He's ten times happier, always smiling and making sure you have everything you need – not that he hasn't been doing that before. Now he doesn't allow you to clean and often, you have to remind him you're not even in that stage of being pregnant.

If it wasn't for the famous morning sickness, you would barely know it. It's still early for you to experience the different uncomfortable symptoms and struggles. However, you can't pinpoint whether the pregnancy is to be blamed for the frequent throwing up or your own conscience. You don't want to make it sound as if your mental health is on a bad path. More like the guilt is making your life tough. But no one is really to blame.

Realizing, you spend your time trying to constantly convince yourself just for you to end up with the same miserable ache in your chest. It's not good for the baby, that's what you often say in your inner and silenced thoughts that no one ever hears.

With Yeonseok too excited, he wasn't waiting too long to drop the news to his parents who, to be completely honest, have been just as thrilled. They've showered you with so much love, not hiding how excited they're about their unborn first grandchildren. They don't know the whole truth though. You're not sure if it's something you'd share with them. That would be fucking weird, let's be honest.

It feels like Yeonseok is too prideful to admit the truth. It feels embarrassing to do so as well. You're not sure if you could face your parents-in-law. But it feels wrong to be lying not just to them, but to yourself and in general. You're no saint, but all of it feels wrong.

Just like the fancy birthday dinner you've been invited to. It's Mrs. Min's birthday and apparently, she doesn't want to make it a big party which is so unlike her. It's been a couple of days since you've visited Min's residence. They made sure to invite you more often which you don't find particularly annoying or anything close to it. But having Mins right there in front of you… it reminds you how badly you, all of you, have fucked up with this deal. It should've been so easy but it's the exact opposite.

Mrs. Min places a greek salad on the table, the amount of food could surely feed a whole village, as she sits down with the biggest smile she so kindly gives you. It's hard to think of her as a bad person. But you can't help it and think about what he told you. You've experienced her to look frustrated, amongst other things, when it came to this one person.

The not so Korean food looks appetizing, though you're ready to dig into the steak instead, as its smell fills up your nostrils. The first bite tastes divine and you almost hum and moan from the delicious taste. In the midst of your second bite, Maria – their maid in her late fifties who has been with the Min's family since their sons were kids – apologizes for the disturbance and informs the family about someone's arrival.

“Mr. Min is here, m'am.” she adds, stating the reason for her disturbance.

The fork in your hand almost clinks against the expensive ceramic of your plate, but your hold tightens around it. The moment Maria excuses herself to prepare the dessert in the meantime, you swear your whole stomach strains as nausea hits you. You know it's no morning sickness or the delicious dish prepared by Maria and the chef in Min's kitchen. It's the damn psyche of having to see him again because he's here.

Despite today being his mother's birthday dinner, the thought of him coming over went over your head. Him coming makes sense but at the same time – it doesn't. He never comes at family dinners, very rarely and the shock on your in-laws faces tells you they're just as surprised. Yeonseok scoffs silently on your left, the sound not going unnoticed by you but you decide not to react.

Your heart hammers in your chest and you've lost all your appetite, nerves slowly crawling to every cell in your body.

“Well, what surprising news.” Mrs. Min fills the silence, and even though her voice doesn't hold any hostility, she doesn't sound pleased or even happy to hear her second son came. She simply voices her thoughts as if the topic is about the most casual or random thing ever.

Mr. Min hums, reaching for his glass of wine before a set of footsteps come closer and closer. With each step and second, you feel like flying out of the stool and hiding yourself somewhere in this huge house. You're nervous.

Nervous to see him again after you ended everything. It's stupid, what was going on between you could be considered purely as a business and you know you did what was for the best. Things were about to get too messy and you couldn't let that happen.

But you're also scared shitless. The thought of seeing him again shouldn't affect you this much and you're completely aware of this fact. The guilt – and so does the nausea – rises but before you can excuse yourself to use the restroom, not caring how weird that would look suddenly, Yoongi in the flesh stops at the entrance of the dining room.

It's not just you who naturally look at him because of his arrival or sounds of his footsteps, you all look up from your plates to stare at him. His hair color is different, you immediately notice since you're not met with his usual black hair and are shocked to see the silver color. His whole appearance is rather unexpected.

He stands there wearing a suit, looking the most elegant you've ever seen him. He's giving a completely different vibe and if you didn't know him, you would think he's someone else. It's weird to think how he suddenly fits into this family and you can tell he holds the same power every Min family member does.

The tattoos are hidden from everyone's sight and the most eye-catching feature is currently his hair color. He looks astonishing.

He scans the room, almost surprised to see just the four of you as his eyes stop at you for a moment. Your breath gets caught in your throat and you swear you stop breathing for a moment, anticipating whatever is about to come. But then he looks away and averts his gaze at his parents instead – and you hate how that pains you.

“Yoongi,” His mother says, not hiding her surprise. “We thought you wouldn't come.”

“It's your birthday, mother.” Yoongi informs as if she didn't know that.

Despite Yoongi avoiding any family gatherings and their sore relationship, Yoongi would always make sure to at least drop a gift to one of his parents whenever it's their birthday. He wouldn't often spend the day with them, or attend any parties they are used to throwing, but he tried his best to at least give them something.

After the failures of any parties he attended, it was just safer for him to avoid them all. Even though he was painted as the bad guy who doesn't care about anything, not even his parents.

But he came now – bearing a gift in the form of a small paper bag.

And then he moves and you watch every single step he takes toward the table, stopping beside his mother as she stands up with a hand over her chest as she notices the gift. Yoongi takes her hand into his big ones, rings adoring his long fingers as his lips brush against her cheeks before he wishes her a happy birthday. She thanks him, smiling the first time since he came here as she places the gift on the floor to check it out later.

Maybe she didn't want to disturb the dinner, but you still can't help but think she could've at least looked at the gift her son bought her. Does she even care about the gift?

But Yoongi doesn't look phased one bit, unbuttoning his suit as he sits at the free seat which happens to be right in front of you. Your eyes meet for a split second and you quickly look away, not having the strength to look at him any longer.

The table is huge but it wouldn't make sense for him to have a seat a few seats from everyone. You know he didn't have much choice but right now, having him right in front of you makes your legs shake in nervosity.

“We're glad you came tonight, son.” Mr. Min says at the head of the table.

Yoongi meekly nods before Maria comes again, ready to serve Yoongi his food as he simply puts his hand up. “I'm fine to serve my own food, thank you Maria.”

She looks a little perplexed at Yoongi's parents, but offers Yoongi a soft smile before she bows and retrieves back to the kitchen, informing dessert is ready whenever you're ready.

Yoongi serves his own food, his movements gentle and you gulp at the sight of his veiny hands as they reach to the bowl of roasted parmesan baby potatoes.

“Honey, does the steak not taste good?” Yeonseok speaks next to you, his hand on top of your thigh as you jump in your spot, staring at him with wide eyes. He cocks his head at your plate, noticing you've taken only one bite so far and seem to be not hungry at all.

With his question, Yeonseok attracts everyone's attention at the table and you gulp, giving him a tensed smile. “No, it's delicious.”

“Yeonseok, stop questioning her. You know how–”

Almost feeling like what she's about to say, you interrupt Mrs. Min's in the midst of her sentence knowing how rude that looks because you've never done that before. But you couldn't help it.

“It's delicious. Really.” you assure them, forcing yourself to take a second bite but instead of the good taste, all you want is to spit it out.

Your mother-in-law looks a little surprised by your interruption but she shakes herself out of it, offering you a gentle smile as she reaches for her red wine. However, she has different plans than just leaving the topic, Yeonseok's question and everything about it reminding her of the obvious.

“Yoongi, you should congratulate your brother. And Y/N.”

This time, you don't manage to catch the fork as it loudly clanks against the plate and you nervously apologize. Mrs. Min sounds ecstatic, cheerful at her words as she beams at both of you, your unusual behavior going completely unnoticed as everyone beams in the room. Well, your in-laws do as they shoot bright smiles your way. They're happy, it's nice to witness it but it's the least of things you can focus on.

Yoongi arches his brow, leans against his stool as he glances at his mother. “Congratulate?”

“Your big brother is about to be a father.”

The whole world stops.

At least it feels like that. Your stomach churns uncomfortably and you hate yourself how automatically you look at Yoongi. His features remain neutral, staring at his mother before he averts his sharp and dark gaze at you. Holy shit.

You've no idea what Yoongi thinks right now. Does he think you're a liar? You did tell him you're not pregnant – but only because you didn't know at that time. You made it seem as if you're helping him despite him not reaching the end of your deal. All of this is fucking messy. A fucking mess you can't seem to get out of.

And then he glances at his brother, forcing you to look at your husband as well as he stares sharply at Yoongi as if he's daring him to say something. He's tense and not in his usual relaxed posture as he glares the hell out of Yoongi.

But Yoongi only stares back at him, neutral almost like a robot before he opens his mouth and lets out a mere; “Congrats.”

His parents stare and clear their throats at the same time, biting back any distasteful remarks about Yoongi's lack of enthusiasm. That's what pisses them off. The lack of emotions he shows. It shows how controlling of him they want to be.

But Yoongi comes here like a king, showing them they can't control him.

You start noticing the little details even more now.

It's funny because the two brothers are wearing the same type of clothing, but both of them radiate completely different energy. You look at your husband and you see an attractive man. Both of them are attractive just in different ways and you hate that Yoongi is the one who makes your stomach flutter with a set of butterflies. It's just his looks and energy.

By asking to be excused, you would draw even more attention and you don't want anyone to feel like there's something going on. So you stay seated in your spot, bracing to take the stupid fork again along with knife.

For the rest of the dinner, you try to get as much food as it's possible into your stomach, swallowing down any urge to push the plate away. Your in-laws mostly talk through it along with Yeonseok as they talk about business and all sorts of stuff you don't care to listen to.

Yoongi, sitting on the opposite side from you, remains silent too as he chews on the food until his plate is empty. When Maria comes back with the dessert, a molten chocolate cake, you barely eat a half of it which is truly a shame. You were so excited for tonight's food, knowing it's always delicious and your in-laws are very precise when it comes to food and inviting someone over, whether it's for lunch or dinner.

You can't help it though. It's your nerves acting up and even your recent sweet cravings won't save you this time. Luckily, nobody voices your non-eager attitude when it comes to food, and this time you don't even care how it might look. All of that is somewhere back in your mind, if even, because all you can focus on is the man sitting not far away from you. You're practically right in front of his eyes, fully exposed to him even though he doesn't look your way. At least you think he doesn't.

You act as if he's not there, not even glancing his direction though you're more than aware of his presence. You don't feel his burning eyes on you – you're not sure if you want to. Yet it feels like there's many unspoken things between you, and him ignoring you too doesn't sit well with you. Which is selfish, you're aware, because you're doing the same thing.

So when the dessert is over and everyone continues to drink the expensive alcohol of each of their choice, Yoongi excuses himself to get some fresh air and he gets dismissed, even though he truly doesn't care. He leaves his seat and disappears further down the house.

Should you go talk to him?

You feel like you should.

But are you ready?

Not at all.

What are you going to say to him? You've no idea where to start or what you want to tell him at all. There's just this feeling that pushes you to go and talk to him.

Plus you don't want to make any bad blood with Yeonseok. It's already enough that he looked annoyed at Yoongi's sudden presence and unexpected arrival. The reason behind it is your pregnancy without doubt. No matter how Yeonseok says the baby is his, he knows biologically it is not. None of you can change that.

And you don't want to give him any reason to doubt you, or want to make him feel like you want to get closer to his brother. Not at all. It's better if you stay away from him – that much is clear.

Maybe living with this guilt is your price for ever agreeing to your husband's ridiculous plan. He's not one to blame though. You agreed after all.

So why the hell do you stand up after softly patting the corners of your lips, excusing yourself to use the restroom?

You know the restroom is not a place you're going to visit. Navigating your way through the house, you get to the backdoor that leads to a large garden and even before opening the tall and big glass door, you already spot Yoongi leaning against a pillar. A cigarette between his two fingers as he brings it closer to his mouth as he takes a drag.

Quietly but not too subtly, you open the door and sneak into the chilly night where stars surround the dark sky. The automatic lights already inform him about your presence, if the sound of the door opening hasn't.

But he doesn't react.

He never looks up. Nor even glances in your direction as he continues to smoke as if he's still alone, despite your figure coming closer.

Taking a shaky breath, you grow even more nervous to be facing him, no… to talk to him, again. Is he even aware of your presence? He must be. There's no way he doesn't know.

But much to your luck, it seems like he decides to put you out of your misery once he looks up, no longer staring into the distance or at his black elegant boots. The suit is gone and he stands before you in a white button-up, some of his tattoos slightly visible through the thin fabric. Averting his eyes right at you, no shock is evident on his neutral and expressionless face, he remains silent.

“Hi.” you stupidly offer into the thick air, not averting your gaze as much as you would want to.

A beat of silence follows.

“Hi.” he says back after a moment.

You hug your arms, rubbing your forearms to mask your nervosity as you bite into your lower lip harshly. Nobody takes any initiative in starting a conversation and you know it has to be you. You came to him after all. Not the other way around.

If you didn't come to him, there's a big possibility Yoongi wouldn't approach you. It didn't seem like he wanted to, to be honest.

Opening your mouth, no words come out of it as you ponder about your next words. But once you actually think of saying something, Yoongi beats you to it and his deep voice reaches your ears.

“What do you want, Y/N?”

He's straight-forward. Perhaps a little bit too much and you actually find yourself slightly offended by the question and the tone of it.

Okay. No beating around the bush. You got it.

So far it feels like Yoongi wants to have nothing to do with you. Not that you can't blame him.

“I didn't lie to you.” you blurt out suddenly.

He watches you, his features not changing even a bit before he slightly cocks his head to the side. He takes another drag, aiming his face in the opposite direction as a cloud of smoke leaves his mouth.

“I didn't know I was pregnant when I… talked to you the last time.” you specify as he remains silent before a silent chuckle leaves his mouth.

He finishes smoking, the cigarette now short and almost all used as he hollows his cheeks while he takes a deep inhale of it. Once he's done, he presses the cigarette against the white pillar which makes your breath hitch as he throws the stud on the grass. He doesn't bother to go to the nearest bin and throw it out.

His mother will be surely ecstatic once she finds it.

“Congratulations.” he says somehow dryly, but maybe that's just his usual way of distancing himself.

You don't expect him to be over the moon with the news. All of this is weird and his lack of reaction just proves to you that he doesn't really think much about this situation. You know what the deal was and the child growing inside you is not his. No matter how biologically that is incorrect. It's not like you expected him to give you some kind of reaction, other than the pure ignorance and a lack of interest he's showing.

“Congratulations?” you mutter back just as dryly, his dark eyes watching you.

“What do you want me to say, Y/N?” he sighs.

At the sound of your name, your heart clenches at how cold he sounds.

“I came here to tell you that I didn't lie to you. I didn't know and I only found out after we talked.”

Yoongi didn't know it for sure. You didn't know when you came to his place to put an end to everything. Clearly, he was aware of all the risks because there was still a chance. Fuck, it would be such a bad luck if you didn't get pregnant after all those times he fucked you just in one night.

But then a notification popped on his screen and his bank account has suddenly grown into something it never has before. The exact money that all of you settled on was now sitting in his bank account.

To be completely truthful, Yoongi didn't think you would be able to convince Yeonseok to send him the money. Yeonseok is stubborn, in a completely different way than Yoongi is and whatever has to do with him, he knows Yeonseok is even ten times more stubborn than normally. He hasn't had the chance to see much of your marriage and relationship, yet he knows Yeonseok is much softer around you. You're his wife after all and maybe there's some truth to it that people we love bring out the best in us.

So he thought you somehow convinced him.

And when he decided to come here and celebrate his mother's birthday, the last thing he expected to find out is that you really are pregnant after all. But is it that much of a shock? Somehow he settled with the thought that you aren't.

Maybe you decided to get a sperm donor after all, that's what he thought.

But according to your words, nothing like that has happened and you're pregnant thanks to him.

“Relax,” he sighs, “I didn't even think of you lying. I mean it's probably for the best that it ended up like this, no?”

You frown a little. “What do you mean?”

“I felt fucking bad for getting the money without you getting a part of your deal. So now that you actually got it, there shouldn't be any bad feelings.”

He makes it sound so easy, yet you feel like your heart is cracking for some reason. And you're fucking confused because you don't know what you want him to say. You don't know how you want him to react. The only thing you know is that none of this feels right and it's a fucking mess. And the same guilt is slowly crawling all over your body.

“Right.” you gulp, hearing your heartbeat in your ears as you try to utter a few words but nothing comes out.

Your head feels heavy and what feels like anxiety engulf your body. Even your legs feel like jelly and you hate yourself for wearing heels tonight, even though they're not that high to begin with. You stumble on the spot, your eyes widening in shock as you expect the worst. Luckily, Yoongi is close and even though the single stumble wouldn't make you fall, Yoongi places his hands around your forearms and holds you steady.

“Are you okay?” he asks, leaning his face closer to you as he tries to inspect your face.

Nodding, you swallow the uncomfortable lump in your throat rather dryly and despite your confirmation that you're okay, you look anything but it.

You're shocked. Shocked yourself. Shocked by this situation. You're exhausted, wanting to escape from the constant guilt and never-ending discontent you're feeling.

“Come on. You should sit down or go inside.” Yoongi mutters but you don't move, eyes wide in shock as you can't react in any way.

Your mind is whirling, you're completely aware of what's happening even though you're confused too. But your body seems to not react.

“Hey, come on talk to me,” Yoongi offers softly, taking your chin between his fingers as he makes you look at him.

His sharp eyes are set on you, a small frown adoring his face. “How far along are you? Is that what people ask pregnant women?”

Something snaps in you and a breathless laugh escapes your mouth. Yoongi's lips twitch and he nods his head to encourage you to answer.

“Two months?” There's a tilt to your tone that makes it sound like a question and Yoongi laughs a little.

“Are you asking me?”

You laugh, shaking your head as Yoongi slowly lets go of your arms and inspects you with his eyes once more. “I don't know. People have this stupid tendency to talk about everything in weeks when it comes to pregnancy and babies, and I'm confused over it.”

Yoongi snorts, “You and I both. I don't know shit about pregnancy.”

“I like your hair.” you blurt out and you don't fail to notice the brief look of surprise shadowing Yoongi's features until he lets out a breathy chuckle, brushing his fingers through his now silver hair.

“You do? Thought my mother would have some kind of snarky comment about it but she didn't.”

You laugh, eyes glancing at the top of his head again. Yeonseok would never dye his hair, you're sure about that. It's one of the many things that differs him and Yoongi.

“I never knew you're planning to dye your hair.” you admit, though it's stupid because of course you didn't know. You're not friends and there are so many things you don't know about him.

You both know that but luckily, Yoongi goes along with it and shoots you a brief smile.

“Yeah, it wasn't a plan. Just a spontaneous idea. My friend thought it's a good idea to do this at midnight.”

His friend?

Again, you don't know any of Yoongi's friends. All you heard is from Yeonseok and if you remember correctly, he called them 'a bunch of stoners' which you're not sure if it's accurate at all. Where would Yeonseok even see or meet his friends? It's most likely one of his judgy assumptions rather than a raw truth.

“Oh, the one I saw in your studio?”

What the hell?

Why would you say that?

Yoongi looks at you before he simply says; “Yeah.”

You know you have the look on your face. He sees it. He sees what you're assuming but he doesn't do anything to correct you.

Is he sleeping with her again? He did say they used to hook-up, that much you can remember. Actually, you can remember every single thing he said to you.

There's nothing holding him back now. He can do anything he wants to. So why do you feel… bitter about it?

You're the one married. You're the one who's pregnant.

Seeing him and being so close to him, there's something pulling you closer to him. Something that wants you to be in his close proximity. It's not love. You're sure of it. How can you love someone you barely know?

But the attraction you feel toward him is too much. It feels just the same as it did when you decided to end things. Nothing has changed and that scares you. You thought time would do you some favor but it turns out to be false.

“Hey,”

He snaps you out of your thoughts, your eyes blinking a few times as you find his dark glowing orbs.

“How are you doing?”

Something about his voice and the question itself is gentle. You're taken back for a moment.

“You mean besides pregnant and all emotional? Good.” you joke but Yoongi doesn't laugh nor chuckles how you expect him to.

Instead, he keeps staring at you until your smile slowly fades away.

“Is Yeonseok treating you right?”

“What kind of question is that?” you breathe out a chuckle, not hiding surprise.

“You seemed to be acting weird all evening. I don't remember you being this way.” he points out, voice hushed as if he told you a secret that nobody can hear which you don't understand, because you're alone outside.

Yeah, you're acting weird. For numerous reasons but he's the main one. Every single reason includes him but you can't tell him that. The baby you're carrying is biologically his. You made it through countless times of having sex, memories you can't seem to shake off. You no longer crave your husband's touch. You feel guilty every time he only touches you, and you don't mean anything intimate behind it. Whenever he would take your hand into his, you no longer feel the excitement and spark you once used to feel.

It's guilt and a need to pull away instead.

And you hate yourself for it. You're so mad at yourself that you want to scream into your pillow every night. But you put this imaginary mask on and you fall asleep with a smile on your face, letting your husband caress your still non-visible bump.

“I didn't expect you to come tonight. That's all.” you admit, not really lying but not telling him the raw truth either.

“What? You don't like seeing me?” he jokes this time, one corner of his lips lifting up and you swallow the urge to salivate at how good he looks doing bare minimum.

To be honest, you're not sure if you like to see him here. He just made your mind even a bigger mess than it already was without even knowing. He's completely clueless, going on with his life while you can't seem to forget about you two and what you've done.

“That's not it.” you laugh. It sounds a little forced though Yoongi doesn't react, maybe completely clueless about that too. “I'm glad you came.”

Okay, you weren't planning to say exactly that.

But it was worth it when you see the slightest glimpse of Yoongi's fond smile before he chuckles again.

“I'm sure your parents are glad too.”

You try to save it, though it makes Yoongi laugh even more.

“Yeah, not sure about that. Mom always sends me an invite over a text but I think she secretly hopes I never show up.”

You frown at the thought. The memory of her brushing off Yoongi's gift like it's nothing sudden comes to the surface. But you hope Yoongi is not right about this.

“I'm sure that's not true. Why would she hope about that?”

“I always bring some kind of drama.”

“You? The person who barely reacts?” you joke, laughing as Yoongi joins you though his life is nowhere near bubbly or equal as yours.

“They don't realize they're the drama.”

“Yeah, it's always like that…” you silently agree as the topic falls down a little and you end up staring at each other.

Heartbeat racing, you don't budge as you stare deeply into his eyes as he watches you with intense stare as well, which only adds to the sudden weird atmosphere and tension.

You open your mouth but you're interrupted by a door opening, soon spotting your husband as he looks around before his eyes set on you and his brother. He visibly tenses and without hesitance, makes his way to both of you. As soon as he's next to you, you feel his hand on your back as he sends daggers at Yoongi.

“What are you doing here?”

You're not sure who is he asking and you stare in bewilderment at how hostile he sounds. He could at least pretend to be nice. You don't like seeing him like this and you know it has everything to do with Yoongi.

“Are you asking me or…?” you chuckle almost nervously, but Yoongi doesn't budge.

He frowns at his brother as he scoffs, “Can't talk to my sister-in-law?”

You don't know what makes you want to throw up. Yoongi calling you sister-in-law or the bitter chuckle Yeonseok doesn't hide.

“Stay away from my wife.” Yeonseok spits and inches closer to Yoongi.

Eyes widening, you get between the two and subtly push Yeonseok. You ignore how he stares at you like you just betrayed him. You don't want to cause any scene, you want to avoid it as much as possible. At the moment you don't care who's right or not.

“Should've thought about it sooner.” But Yoongi only digs deeper, getting provoked by Yeonseok and this time you have to put much bigger pressure on Yeonseok's chest to not let him lash at Yoongi.

“Stop it,” you bark, not really sure who it's aimed at. Just one of them or both? “I came to talk to him.”

“And why would you do that?” Yeonseok frowns at you and you frown back, standing your ground as you scoff.

“Maybe because you've been glaring at him ever since he came? You're being impolite, Yeonseok. I just wanted to check on him.”

“That's not any of your business.”

Your mouth left agape, you're speechless but before you can react, Yoongi does it for you.

“Don't talk to her like that.” he warns and Yeonseok glares at him once again, but keeps his mouth shut because once he looks back at you, you see he realizes his mistake. He opens his mouth but you shake your head, silencing him.

“Wow,” he suddenly starts to laugh. You watch your husband turn into something you haven't seen yet, he looks almost insane yet he doesn't do anything big. He laughs sarcastically and bitterly, rubbing his forehead as he looks at you and Yoongi. “Look at that.”

“Yeonseok, stop it.” you snap, “Don't say something you'll regret later.”

His ironic smile fades, eyes boring into Yoongi who's standing behind you before he looks away with a clenched jaw.

Yoongi brushes past you and your husband, his intoxicating scent filling your nose for a quick moment as he makes his way inside. But he doesn't fully step in as he looks across his shoulder, eyes and words aimed at his brother. “Get your shit together.”

Yeonseok looks like he could punch a wall at the moment, but you don't entertain that idea, following Yoongi inside without looking back. He joins you, thinking twice about doing something stupid.

But by the time you're inside and joining your in-laws, Yoongi is already gone, leaving the rest of the family in a bitter mood because of his sudden departure. Only Yeonseok seems to be pissed off for a different reason. One, only the three of you know about.

Arriving back home helps to bring you some calmness to your sour mood. Yeonseok hasn't uttered a single word on your way back and so haven't you. What's the point? He seems to be upset and partly, you're the reason for it.

If you haven't decided to go to see Yoongi, all of this could've been avoided. Sure, in the end Yeonseok still couldn't help but glare at his brother at any given chance, but at least there would be no verbal confrontation. You know you just added fuel to the fire which wasn't completely helpful at all. But you couldn't help yourself.

You had to talk to Yoongi, as much as a part of you thought it was a dumb idea. You're confused and yet again, your thoughts are running wild that you don't pay any attention to your husband. Taking a longer shower, you replay your conversation until your headache approaches and even then, you see Yoongi's face in front of you. He occupies every corner of your mind and you breathe heavily to calm down your heartbeat.

This constant stress and hundreds of negative emotions you're feeling are not good for the baby. You wish you could just focus on yourself and the baby.

It's later on when you're scrolling through your social media, completely ignoring your husband as he's in and out of the shower, soon joining you in your bedroom. He stares at the ceiling, frowning at the plain color until he breaks the silence.

“Why would you go talk to him?”

It's the same question all over again, one you could answer easily but it would bring even more guilt and pain. Not just to you but to Yeonseok as well. You realize whatever you're dealing with alone, could potentially break everything you've been building with him. Sure, being honest seems like the best and healthiest option but you're a coward. You purposely try to push the real reason, not saying it out loud because you know the consequences it would have. You ignore it with every fiber of your body, well at least you try to do so.

Glancing at him, the pained expression on his face pains you even more. Yeonseok has expectations of you, some you understand and some you don't. But most importantly, you know you would act the same way if the roles were reversed. You know whatever Yeonseok feels, whether it's jealousy or betrayal, you would feel just the same.

It's already hard as it is – for both of you. You can't imagine being on Yeonseok's place. Your husband should never feel threatened by another man. And deep down you know that's how Yeonseok probably feels.

Sighing, you lock your phone and put it on your nightstand. “I told you. I just wanted to make sure he's fine. Everyone didn't seem happy to have him there.”

“What are you talking about?” Yeonseok frowns.

“Seok, come on…” you chuckle, “Your mother barely acknowledged him, so did your father. She ignored his gift, and didn't even bother to take a glance. I felt bad for him.”

You siding with Yoongi and partly having his back will only evoke another percentage of anger in Yeonseok. He's sensitive when it comes to his brother. You're growing quite sick of it. Maybe because you come from a broken family too. And it's not fair to Yoongi at all. Hearing his part of the story, you could relate to it even if your positions in your families are different.

Sure, he's not perfect either and often lets the temper get the best of him, but he's not at fault here. He's not as loved as Yeonseok is and the single thought makes your eyes water. You don't want your baby to feel they're unloved by one of the parents. You want them to be loved and have a great loving family. Somewhere they feel safe and loved.

“Since when do you care about this so much?”

The suspicion is evident in his voice and it makes your stomach clench uncomfortably.

“Just because I've been quiet this whole time, doesn't mean I don't see certain things Yeonseok.” you point out, realizing this is the first time you're having this kind of conversation.

You would often voice your confusion of how your in-laws speak about their younger son, but it would be often brushed off and Yeonseok would go on and off about how Yoongi doesn't deserve them, is an asshole and all the same old story. So naturally, you just let go of that topic because it wasn't worth any potential disagreements. After all, you barely knew Yoongi and everything you heard about him was from his parents and your husband.

You don't want to make it seem like because you had sex, now you suddenly know everything about him and you realize how your confession about tonight's dinner might sound like. You understand Yeonseok's suspicion and confusion, so do you the hidden annoyance laced in both his expression and voice.

But now you've seen a bigger picture, especially after talking to Yoongi. He sounded and looked vulnerable in his own style. You remember every minute of that conversation you held with him at his place.

At that time it didn't feel like he was your brother-in-law. At least you never really thought of him that way, hence the lack of his presence in your life. But back then, during the conversation, you never acknowledged it. He felt like… your friend.

You felt close to him.

Yeonseok looks speechless, betrayal showing on his face again but he can't expect you to agree with everything he says or does just because you're in a marriage.

“Is that all it is?”

Accusation clear in his tone, your mouth falls open as you stare at him wide-eyed, not believing your ears. “What are you initiating, Yeonseok?”

“I don't know, you tell me. You never bothered to discuss my brother before, at least not to this extent. I find it weird.” No, he finds it suspicious.

“Do you think I never noticed how you guys mistreat him?”

You wish you would keep your mouth shut as soon as you say it. Though it's true, the expression on your husband's face pains you. The last thing you want to do is fight. And any conversation about his brother means fighting. There's no other way. But he can't expect you to play a nice wife who constantly keeps her mouth shut. You're not like that at all. You've never been and he knows that. He knew about your every part when marrying you, even told you that's what made him fall in love with you.

But the topic named Yoongi would be often brushed off even if you might've said something that could potentially annoy or upset your husband. But he never lashed at you because of it, nor did he show so many negative emotions.

There is also a realization and you know why he's reacting like this. If you never had to intimately get closer to Yoongi, this wouldn't be happening. Yeonseok is sensitive and you get that.

“You can't be serious, Y/N.”

At the usage of your name, you feel like he's scolding you and his tone implicates that much. Frowning, you keep your mouth shut despite wanting to say something but you can't find the right words.

“Is this because you slept with him?”

“Oh my god!” you exclaim, sitting up straight before the anger causes you to get off the bed as Yeonseok stares at you with a lifted brow which angers you even more. “I can't believe you're bringing this up again.”

“You never cared for him, Y/N. Why would you go and seek his attention? You're pregnant and we're having a baby. You should focus on us.”

It feels like everything he's saying is wrong. And you get this urge to cry. Out of desperation and anger. But you swallow it down, staring in disbelief at your husband.

“I went to check on him, Yeonseok. You might not care about whatever relationship you have with him, but I don't like weirdness between me and other people. I felt bad so I went to talk to him. He literally congratulated us. It's not like we were doing something secretive behind your back.”

“Look at it from my point of view,” he starts, shaking his head. “My brother got you pregnant, you spent nights with him. Of course I'm going to get upset when you sneak out to see him.”

“For fuck sake, I didn't sneak out! I'm not some teenager that has to sneak out. I'm also an adult who's free and completely capable of making decisions on her own.” you frustratedly tell him.

“That's not what I meant.”

“No? Then what did you mean?”

There's a beat of silence spent with two of you staring at each other, the argument sitting heavily in the air as your bedroom starts to feel suffocating.

“Look, I understand your point of view. I should've told you I'm about to talk to him,”

You both know he would do anything to stop you.

And at the same time, you didn't think of it as a big deal. You thought you could somehow talk to Yoongi without any drama.

“It's not like I'm seeing him anymore. I just wanted to end everything on a good note.”

“You will be seeing him. He's your brother-in-law.”

You roll your eyes. “You know what I meant.”

Yoongi is not someone who hangs around his family too much. Something tells you you won't be seeing him anytime soon. Yeonseok knows that too.

“Let's not fight, okay?” he sighs, rubbing his eyes tiredly. “We both have different opinions about this but consider this argument done.”

“Is it really done? Because it doesn't feel like it.”

Yeonseok's expression saddens. “Yes. I'm sorry if I said something that hurt you. I didn't mean to initiate or suspect something.”

You're not sure if you truly believe his words.

But you're also exhausted by this fight.

“Now come lay in the bed, please. The stress is not good for you and the baby.”

Sighing and shifting on your spot, you join him in the bed. Though you stay on your side, slowly turning off the light as he does the same.

Yeonseok's jealousy could be justified. At the end, you did have sex with Yoongi and even if that was the agreement, it does make things harder. Even after it's over.

However, something tells you this is far from over. It's the beginning of something you can't name yet.

The first argument starts expectedly, at least that's how you would define it. Surprisingly, it hasn't happened right after the latest fiasco at Min's house. Yeonseok has been trying to be a good husband, happily ignoring the argument that involved his brother. Mostly busy with running the family's company, he tried to take you out whenever he could or just tried to spend more time with you. He hasn't missed any appointments you had, always beaming at the baby's scan with a widest smile.

But it was just a matter of time before things would go downhill and you know what exactly it would be.

Your husband has been needy, in ways you absolutely understand. Realizing his touch doesn't feel like it used to, you wouldn't let things get far other than simple caressing. Sex is natural in marriage and you had lot of it, even before you decided to start a family only to find out heartbreaking news.

Every time you would end any implication of lust or sex, he didn't comment on it but you could feel his stare and imagine the process of his thoughts. You would be frustrated too.

Actually you are. Mainly with yourself.

You can't give him what he craves for and the list of excuses gets thinner and thinner. It has gotten so thin that it raises even more suspicion and frustration on your husband's part. Do you blame him? Hell no. You're not sure you would be able to go months without intimacy, especially if your husband would give you a cold shoulder. Naturally, you would think there is a problem.

Now is there?

Yes. A big one.

How can you explain to your husband that you don't crave his touch? Just the thought of it makes you shudder in so much discomfort that it makes you sad. Fuck. You even thought about satisfying him with a single handjob or blowjob but you couldn't bring yourself to do it. It sounds twisted.

And sex is much more than just the idea to satisfying your needs. It has always been in your relationship. That's what differs between your marriage and the simple act of sex you had with Yoongi.

“This is getting ridiculous.”

It is. You agree with him.

Once again, you can't blame him for acting like this. He tried to be nice, asked if you're okay, if there's something wrong. But your answer would always be the same.

“I'm okay. I'm just not in the mood, must be the hormones. I'm sorry.”

Fuck. You know it's more than just some hormones. You barely know you're pregnant. Your pregnancy symptoms aren't showing anymore and anything extraordinary doesn't have to automatically scream “pregnancy” too.

But you often caress your small bump that's mostly visible in the evenings. Or maybe you're just bloated from all the snacks you eat before bedtime. Bonding with your unborn baby has been your current key to happiness. As much as you feel miserable and often lonely, despite having a loving husband next to you every night, whenever you would look down at your belly and think about what they will look like, who they would become, you suddenly don't feel alone at all.

No matter what happens, you have the baby. Your baby.

“Yeon–”

“No, I don't want to hear it. No more excuses, Y/N. I have been patient and you know that. I'm not someone who would ever force you to have sex, but you barely let me touch you and it's been months!”

You just finished eating dinner, one you prepared for him after he came back home from work. But now you feel like vomiting any second. No pregnancy symptoms though. Just your guilt and the fact that you know. You know that what he's saying is right.

Tears well up in your eyes. Nothing could make this right. There's nothing you could do to prevent this long awaited topic.

Yeonseok scans your face, noticing the sadness and vulnerability and his hands itching to get closer to you, to hold you tight and tell you everything's going to be fine. To tell you not to cry because it breaks his heart to see you crying. However, he knows this needs to be discussed and he can't continue to live in this marriage with zero answers. Or answers that sound nothing but lies.

“I'm sorry.”

Voice cracking, you stare at your husband in guilt and shame which makes it hard for him to look at you. He hates seeing you like this.

“No, Y/N.” he shakes his head, “Don't apologize but give me a proper answer. A reason. Is it your pregnancy? Do you not feel like having sex because of it? Or is there more to it? Maybe we should go to a couple's therapy or ask your doctor if it's normal. We can search for answers together.”

He's caring.

He's trying to find a solution meanwhile you mentally shake your head at everything he says. You don't need a doctor when you know exactly what's wrong. You know the exact reason (or more like reasons) why you don't want to have sex with your husband.

“No, it's not that.” you speak, voice weak and tired.

You're standing in the middle of your dining room, a kitchen island separating you from your husband as you're happy for this obstacle and distance at the moment.

“Then what is it?” he exclaims, trashing his arms in the air before they slap against his sides frustratedly. “Communication has never been a problem between us, Y/N. But now… I feel like I don't know you. You're different.”

He's being open, yet you feel your heart cracking as his words sound like an insult. Though that's crazy because he's nowhere near insulting you.

And when he goes on and on about not understanding you, saying the same words over and over again, something cracks in you with every word he says until you snap.

“Because I feel guilty!”

Admitting it out loud brings a beat of silence, Yeonseok's mouth shutting as he looks genuinely speechless.

“How can I have sex with my husband when I had sex with your brother?” Your voice cracks again, something changing in his expression before he frowns.

“I thought we were way past this.”

“Well, we aren't.” you bite back.

“So what? For the rest of our marriage and lives we won't have sex? Y/N, you knew what you were getting into. We agreed to it. You agreed to it! I was the last one who agreed to it, you told me you're okay, you said–”

“I know!” you yell, your hands slightly shaking as you grip the kitchen's counter for support. “I know.” you say more gently.

“I don't see any solution here, Y/N.”

He hasn't used your name so many times before. It only shows how angry and frustrated he is. Preferably frustrated at you.

“I didn't know I would feel this way, Yeonseok. How should I have known?” you raise your voice, voicing out your own frustration while his features don't soften. They turn even more stern.

“What exactly is your plan, then? Huh? We are married, Y/N. You can't expect me–”

“To wait?” you cut him off, “Is sex what you want? Let's go to the bedroom then. I will let you fuck me. Come on.”

You're frustrated, angry at yourself and you know this is not something you truly want. In the end, you know you wouldn't be able force yourself to have sex with him right now. Or anytime soon. You just can't. There is too much going on for you to do that. You wouldn't force yourself anyway.

As you make your way to him, in the midst of your sentence, Yeonseok shakes his head and holds his hands up. “Stop. You know I don't want that.”

“What do you want?” you ask, standing close to him as you stare into his tired face.

This is ruining both of you.

“I want us to be how we were.”

That single sentence makes you almost choke up, sobs wanting to get out of your mouth but you harshly bite the inside of your cheek.

“I don't know if that's possible. Not after everything.”

He opens his mouth but no words come out.

“I will sleep in the guest's room tonight. I think we both need to cool down to properly talk about this.”

You're escaping the confrontation again, you know that but you're physically and mentally exhausted. Thinking of the baby and yourself, you need to rest and take your mind off this. If that's possible.

“No.”

Yeonseok stops you with his voice booming in the room.

“I will take the guest room. You stay in the bedroom, the bed's bigger there.”

The bed in the guest room is large enough for two people, not mentioning it is for you alone. Both of you know that. Yet he still chose to let you sleep in your bedroom. It makes you even more sad now.

And he leaves, brushes past you as you two remain the most distant you've ever been. Your marriage and relationship is slowly but surely crumbling down.

It's safe to say you haven't slept well. As soon as the main exhaustion wore off, you were awake, tossing in the big and cold bed. Yeonseok kept his word and stayed in the guest room, which made you wonder if he's got trouble sleeping as well.

With having the whole night to think, even though it wasn't the right time to be thinking, you couldn't help yourself but consider every option you have. You couldn't help yourself but to think – if you never decided to go with the decision, you wouldn't be here and your marriage would go well. Maybe you and Yeonseok having kids wasn't planned for you. Maybe you should've lived the rest of your lives with no kids. Maybe after a while, Yeonseok would consider adoption.

But all of those are what if scenarios. No one knows if your marriage wouldn't suffer because of it later on.

You had those kinds of thoughts the whole night and by the time you woke up, it was almost lunchtime. Yeonseok was not at home, something you discovered after finally getting out of the room and walking around the apartment for a good half an hour. No sounds of anyone else being here were heard, so you went to check the guest room just to find it empty.

It's Saturday and Yeonseok has no work.

He wanted to take you out today, if you remember correctly. Not that you mind. After what happened yesterday, going somewhere out and acting like everything is fine is the least of the things you want to do.

When one of your friends calls you, you have to hold your tears back when she not only asks about you, but Yeonseok as well.

“Are you guys doing well?”

The single question makes you choke up on your sobs, she quickly understands there is something going on. So you tell her you don't want to talk about it right now. Luckily she understands and tries to take your mind off it. After an hour of talking and trying to laugh with her, the call ends and you're left alone all over again.

You've no idea what crosses your mind when you're trying to binge-watch the newest reality show, but you find yourself reading your old messages with Yoongi. Most of them are just dates and time, but hold a significant memory.

Even though you haven't slept well, you came up with the only solution you could find. With Yeonseok not being present, you weighed your decision and options. It's not going to be easy but you have this feeling you need to at least try.

He comes back around dinner time. Well, a little after that.

You expect him to come back wasted, or merrily drunk because you've never gone through this kind of situation and never had an argument this heavy. He's not the type to get drunk though, yet you expect him to do things most men would do.

However, he's completely sober when he joins you in the living room, barely giving you a glance before his eyes stop at you for a split second. You decide to speak first, judging by his stance he had no intention to speak at all.

“Can we talk?”

He bites back any bitter remark, simply staring at you before he offers a simple yet distant; “Okay.”

He doesn't sit nor join you on the couch, lingering at the end of it as he waits for you to speak. Mustering the right courage and ignoring your fastly beating heart, you lick your dry lips as you let out those painful words.

“We should take a break.”

Silence.

And then.

“What?” he breathes out.

“We should take a break.” you repeat.

He stares and then he sits on the edge of the couch, holding the arm rest for dear life as he looks shocked. And scared?

“What exactly do you mean by that? We are married, Y/N.”

“I know that,” you tell him slowly, looking at him a little sternly. Of course you know you're married. Does he think you're stupid? “And… we need a break. From everything. From each other. We both need to think.”

“Think?” He sounds shocked. “But you do plan to get back together, right?”

“I… don't know.” you tell him honestly. A break means many things.

But you both need to figure out where you stand and what you want to do with your marriage. You had a lot to think about. You're pregnant now. And to be a single mom sounds scary. But you can't be in a marriage that's not bringing you any joy. There are many issues you both have and you can't bring a baby into it. No matter how scary the thought of being a single mom is. For all you know, Yeonseok could easily kick you in the ass and say the kid is not his. You would end up divorced with a baby and no father near.

You're still not sure if this is the right decision, but you have to try.

“But we're expecting a baby. You really want to do this now?”

“And when? When not now?” you question him, frowning. “Don't think this is easy for me either. I'm the one who's pregnant Yeonseok. You could easily divorce me and leave me alone with the baby.”

“Why would I do that?”

Because you're not a biological father.

You can't say it. It's not fair to him. He is the father. You discussed it. Who cares about the biological side? But there's nothing stopping him from dropping his title of father. The baby is not born yet, no birth certificate has been done yet and won't be until the baby is here.

All you've got in him is trust that he wouldn't do it. Never in a million years you would've thought you would be in this position. Both of you.

“I don't know. I guess we need to figure that out. I just know I need some time alone.”

“Time alone for what?”

“To think,” you respond with a frown. “This is not easy for me either. But I can't be in a marriage where things don't work, Yeonseok. I know it's not your fault,”

It is not. He tried to be the best husband he could be.

“It's all on me. And for your sake, and mine, I need to do this.”

“Okay,” he says after a while. “So what now? Are we going to pretend we are roommates? I don't think I'm fully grasping your vision.”

“I'm gonna move out.”

Yeonseok starts choking on his spit as soon as you say it. “M-move out? Woah, that makes it even more serious and official. Where would you go?”

“I'm still working, partly but I am. I've got some saved-up money.”

“That's not right, Y/N. This apartment is ours. Your name is on it too.”

“I know, but I need to gather my thoughts and be alone.”

“Okay, then I'm moving out.”

“Seok, no.”

He frowns. “No. We have one small apartment in the city. I can stay there.”

You don't want him to be the one that moves out. You're the one who came up with the idea. It doesn't sound fair. Makes you feel like a bigger asshole.

“What does this mean? We're broken up? Are we together? Are we divorcing?”

You don't know.

“Let's just say we're broken up for now. We both need some time off. Some time to think.”

He stays silent before letting out a bitter chuckle. “I can't believe this.”

“Seok–”

“No. I gave you everything and you're leaving me.”

“We talked about this. I told you I need–”

“And what about what I need?!” he exclaims, standing up as you flinch. “I went to such lengths to keep this marriage perfect. I gave you everything I possibly could. I gave you house, luxury–”

“I never asked for any of that!” You stand up too, frowning at him. “And you know that. I never needed your luxury, Yeonseok. That's not why I married you or fell in love with you.”

“I know, yet I still decided to spoil you. Fuck, I even let my brother to fuck you!”

You're confused. He sounded broken and sad just a moment ago, almost as if he's trying to understand your decision but now, he's just angry and yelling at you.

“Please, don't bring that up.”

“Why not?” he snaps. “Isn't that right? You wanted him to fuck you. You agreed to it so we could start a family and now you're leaving me. Let's be honest Y/N,”

He sounds so distant. Like a stranger. Even his eyes darken and your heart squeezes painfully. So does your stomach.

“No one would take care of you like I do. We get divorced and then what? Co-parent? Or you're going to leave me and be a single mother? Nobody would ever want a single mother.”

Tears fall down your cheeks but he continues, staring at you without flinching as he spits out venom that slowly digs into every fiber of your body.

He just told you minutes ago that he wouldn't leave you alone with a baby. He made it clear he still wants to be a father no matter what. But considering everything he's spitting out, it's like he's trying to intimidate you.

Everything is a shock right now.

You stand there, crying and listening to him and his scenarios that are supposed to scare you. To show you what a good life you have with him. And for a second, you don't recognize him. You can't believe you married this man. But isn't this your fault? You've brought this inside him.

“Stop.” you whisper. “Just stop!” you scream.

He breathes heavily, glaring at you like you're the biggest enemy. You feel out of place. Like you don't belong here.

“Leave or I will.”

“You have nowhere to go.” he scoffs.

Your eyebrows shoot up before you turn around. No things with you, just your bag where you quickly toss your phone and wallet as you slip your shoes. Yeonseok is hot on your heels, doing nothing to stop you as you simply watch.

You take your things with you and slam the door shut. The door doesn't open but you don't linger around to wait for anything. Wiping the tears with the back of your hand, you rush to the car and bite back any tears that want to spill out. You need to get out of this place, drive safely so you don't harm yourself and the baby. And then you can cry all you want.

It was stupid of you to leave without any of your stuff. But it was the least of your worries and in the heat of the moment, you just had to get out of that place. Being there next to Yeonseok was suffocating. And the thought of it still is.

You park in front of a familiar building, its state not looking any better than you can remember. Who would've thought you would be back? Certainly not you.

But after sitting in your car that you parked in an empty parking lot in front of an already closed grocery store, Yeonseok words echoed in your mind.

You have nowhere to go.

It's not that true actually.

You could easily call one of your friends. But that would mean explaining them things and you want to avoid that right now. Plus, they would be the first thing on Yeonseok's mind if he were looking for you.

Will he? You're not sure.

You never had an argument like this and it's hard to say what he's going to do. But as of now, you want to be as far away from him as possible.

You thought not taking anything with you besides your wallet, phone and bag was stupid, but it's certainly not as stupid as you coming here. Why here out of all people? Why him?

He probably doesn't want anything to do with you, wants to distance from the drama as much as possible. Can you blame him? No. A part of you feels guilty for coming here. And nervous too. Is he even here?

Silently hoping he is, you make your way to the tattoo shop where its walls hold dozens of memories shared between you and him. But none of that is important right now. Before you can change your mind, you deliver a few soft knocks on the door.

There is no sound, no buzzing or chatter that could tell you there are people inside but the door looks like they can hold a sound or two. Much to your luck, the door opens shortly after and an unfamiliar face pops out of the door frame.

“Hello?”

He looks surprised to see you here, or maybe it's the weird expression you're holding that is somewhere looking like it's the end of the world between a massive need to cry your eyes out. However, you haven't cried yet so your eyes aren't watery nor red. You haven't seen yourself and you only hope you don't look as half bad as you feel.

But he still sends a bright smile your way. He does look kind of cute, definitely younger than you or Yoongi. Or maybe it's the blond hair and clear skin that make him look so youthful.

“How can I help you?” He offers a second after, relaxing a little as you catch a glimpse of the space behind him. You're surprised to see the place almost empty and an unsettling feeling grips your stomach.

“Hi,” you breathe out, “Is Yoongi here?”

“Ah, Yoongi is no longer working here. He moved out of this place, I'm renting it now.” he explains and you dryly gulp at the new information.

“Oh.”

The guy checks your face, tilting his head to the side for a moment as he studies your appearance.

“Um, but he gave me the address of his new tattoo shop. He might be there, if you wanna check?” he questions and your head snaps in his direction.

“Yeah, that would be awesome. Thanks.” you offer him a slight smile as he lifts his point finger in the air before he disappears inside.

He comes back not even a minute after, a yellow square paper in his hands as he gives you Yoongi's new address of his workplace.

“Umm, I should've asked sooner but you're not like, I don't know how to say this…”

You raise your brow at him.

“You're not… some psycho or something, right? He would kill me if he knew I just gave his address to someone.”

Chuckling, you open your mouth. “Chill. We are family.” you explain, not wanting him to worry. Technically you didn't lie, so there's nothing wrong with your response even though it does feel weird to say it.

It's Yeonseok connecting you two. Well, realistically there's also the baby but that doesn't exactly make you family.

The guy visibly breathes out a relieved sigh and luckily doesn't question you any further as you thank him for the last time, bidding a quick goodbye.

When you arrive at the scribbled address your navigation so kindly navigated you to, you park your car nearby on the opposite side of the road. You have to admit. This neighborhood and the building itself looks amazing, way more safer and in a better state. It's a complex of one big building with multiple shops. From a hair salon, some fast foods to a tattoo shop – which you hope that's where Yoongi is.

There's cool graffiti art on the wall of the mentioned tattoo shop, the name yet to be announced. You admire the art while you walk before you push the door inside. Like you expected, the place is spacious and there's an entryway. There's no chair or machines you walk right into, there's an actual reception and a bunch of boxes surrounding the place.

And you feel like an idiot for coming inside like some intruder, especially when there are people inside, chatting and laughing at the black reception table. Of course, they notice you right away and their heads are turned your direction in a split second.

You don't recognize any of them, at least not at first glance but that's before you recognize the woman from Yoongi's old shop. Yoongi's friend. Her hair is black and short now, a couple of new tattoos adoring her exposed thighs.

Her being here means Yoongi is around too. Or at least she could lead you to him.

But this hunt for Yoongi is starting to make you feel ridiculous. If he's not here, you will just have to figure out something on your own. Maybe you should sleep at a hotel or something, and not bother anyone else.

“Hi, sorry for barging in.” You even sound like an idiot.

However, the group looks curious about your presence, some of them shoot you a bright grin which eases down your nerves a little.

“Hey. You're Yoongi's sister-in-law, right?” The woman speaks up, her eyes scrunched for a second before they go back to their normal shape as she recognizes you.

“Yeah. Is he here?” you ask, shifting on your spot as you ignore the man eyeing you up and down with a little smirk.

He's got a few tattoos himself, the one on his neck catching your attention the most. However you don't let your eyes linger for too long.

“Yoongi, you've got a visitor!” She yells, tilting her head to the back where there's something that looks like a hall but it's too dark there to tell any more details. Even from where you're standing, they're mostly in your eyesight.

None of them make any sound, simply watching you and giving Yoongi's friend curious looks. Feeling a little bit awkward, you take the time to look around instead. There's nothing much to see. Boxes and unpacked stuff everywhere as everything smells of…. Novelty.

Following footsteps catch everyone's attention, including yours as he comes out of the dark hall, fully exposing himself to the bright lights of his new tattoo studio and a set of curious eyes. Eyes peeling off the floor to look at his friends, a look of annoyance and confusion crosses on his smooth face. Something about finally seeing him and being in the same room as him once again, makes your heart pick up the pace. You ascribe it to your nervosity and sudden regret of coming here.

“What?” he grumbles, silver hair slightly messy as his skin glows – or maybe it's sweat because he does seem to look a little tired. Judging by looking around, it seems like he's been working to get this place together.

His friend raises her brow and points your direction, all attention back to you while your eyes stay solely on Yoongi. You see it from the very beginning. From him frowning in confusion, staring at his friends before he follows the direction her finger is pointing at – you – until his eyes fall on your figure standing a few meters away from everyone.

His frown deepens before a look of surprise makes it onto his face while his mouth opens – very slightly – agape.

It's awkward. All of his friends – or whoever they are – are completely quiet, just watching you two like you're the most interesting part of the day.

“Hi,” you speak up, hugging your arms which totally reveals your uncertainty of coming here. Your usual collected and confident self is gone now, much to Yoongi's surprise. “Can we talk?”

“I don't know about our Yoongi, but you can talk to me anytime you want.” One of the guys says with a grin, his words causing you to send him an unappreciative glare. He obviously thinks it's a joke but you hate guys like that.

“Cut it out, Jimin,” Yoongi scolds him, sending him a second long glare before his eyes are back on you. “Come here. We can talk in the back.” Yoongi tells you and you get moving, not wanting his friends to stare at you any longer.

Do they know? Did Yoongi tell them? Is that why they stare at you as if you were an alien?

As soon as you get close to Yoongi, he motions to the back with his arm as the woody familiar scent of him surrounds the space around him. Yoongi sends a last glare to his friend or all of them – you don't know – before he leads you to the mentioned back. The hall is dark but not as dark as it appeared from where you were standing.

The back door is open and bright, revealing all the equipment a tattoo artist needs. There are empty boxes, some of them still unopened, lingering on the floor as he closes the door behind you. You look around, sensing the familiarity as Yoongi has stuck to his previous color and managed to have this place dark. But it doesn't look like some dungeon or creepy dark tattoo studio. Instead, it looks even more modern and chic – and you know it's going to look even better once it's all done. There is a long and wide mirror to be installed, leaning against the wall with a sheer bag on it protecting the glass.

But that's not why you came here. Therefore you don't look around for too long, turning around to Yoongi as soon as he closes the door and motions for you to sit down on a brand new couch. It's similar to the one he owned in his old studio. The only difference is that it's not black but light cream – however the leather looks comfortable and expensive.

Sitting down on the comfortable piece of furniture, Yoongi sits down on one of the chairs, sprawling his legs rather tiredly as he stretches his neck with a mild frown. “What are you doing here?”

He doesn't sound hostile but confused.

“I'm sorry. I didn't know where to go. I went to your old place but some guy told me you're no longer there, so he gave me this address. I hope that's okay.” you explain quickly, rubbing your knees as your palms get sweaty with each second.

“That's fine,” he assures you casually. “Did something happen?”

Staring at his brown eyes, you're only more confirmed what a stupid idea it was to come here. What's he got to do with your personal problems? He looks fucking confused, as he should. Probably wondering why you always keep coming back to him for some reason.

Yoongi might not know all of you, but he's not stupid or not observant enough to not notice when you're acting weird. When it's clear there's something wrong.

“Me and… your brother had an argument,” you start, staring at your knees. “I suggested we should take a break and well, he didn't exactly take it well.”

Yoongi leans forward, slowly and patiently as his frown deepens. “You broke up with him?”

“We are married. I don't think we can break up.” you try to joke, chuckling shakily as Yoongi's expression doesn't move which makes your grin drop.

“You know what I mean. Did he do something to you?” Yoongi asks, an awaited question finally spoken as his eyes quickly scans you from head to tone. He sounds unsure, not thinking his brother would be able to hurt anyone physically, especially his wife. But he still makes sure, it's a natural response.

“Apart from getting angry and telling me not so nice things, no. He wouldn't touch me like that.” you say, wincing at the thought of it.

Yoongi slowly nods, eyes never escaping you. “I don't understand… What happened then? Why would you want to take a break?”

“Because I can't be with him.” Your response is quick, mouth shutting right away as Yoongi's brows lift up.

Great…

“At least not right now. I just need some time to think. Our marriage and relationship is not what it used to be and it got me confused. I can't keep doing this to him and he expects things from me, which I understand but I also need to put myself first too, I can't suffer and everything got so fucking messy–”

“Hey, hey,” He butts in, leaning his head toward you as he makes sure you look at him. Once you do, he continues. “Breathe. Okay?”

Wow, easy to be said.

He wants to ask why you came to him? What's he got to do with your and his brother's issues? The questions sit on the tip of his tongue and he's ready to ask them, still straightforward as he is but then a silent sob leaves your mouth and he freezes, watching you shake your head.

“I'm sorry. I didn't know where else to go.” You repeat your previous words and he feels bad.

He's not great with handling other people's emotions, fuck, he's not the best person to comfort someone and most of the time he doesn't know what to say. This time it's not any different but it doesn't mean he's fine watching other people going through stuff. He's not as emotionless as people make him out to be – or as he often portrays himself to be.

“It's okay.”

“It's not,” You sob, finally breaking in tears. “You don't get it, Yoongi. One moment he said he's going to be the baby's father and then the next he almost hints at the possibility of me ending up alone. I don't want to be a single mom. I can't do this. I didn't go through this just for this to happen.”

You cry and Yoongi feels uncomfortable, not sure what to do as he listens to your cries and tries to make out your words.

Deep down, you know if you haven't said anything to Yeonseok and haven't proposed a break, none of this would happen. But your marriage and relationship would suffer in different ways. You're just trying to get this right, to deal with this somehow but it's fucking tough when you're all alone.

“How can he say that? He wanted to have kids too.”

He says kids in general. He avoids talking about the baby that's already growing inside your womb.

“He can't possibly leave you all alone to deal with… everything alone, right?”

You wipe your nose with your sleeve as you let out a bitter chuckle. You look at Yoongi, eyes and cheeks all wet and teary. “The baby hasn't been born yet. There are no documents signed. If he decides not to be the father, he can. DNA tests will prove he's not and I'm–” All alone. Sniffling, you stop yourself from saying.

“If he does that, he's an even bigger asshole than I thought he is.” Yoongi scoffs but you don't pay attention to those words too much, wiping your cheeks. “Do you, uh, want some water or something?”

You chuckle, shaking your head.

“I'm sure he just had a tough time dealing with the whole break thing. He loves you, Y/N. He always wanted to have kids. He is gonna come back.”

Is that what you want though?

“I don't know if that's what I want.”

“What?” Yoongi deadpans.

“I, like I told you, our marriage is not what it used to be.”

You don't want to get to the whole topic of you feeling guilty all over again. You know the last time you talked about it to Yoongi, or more precisely, the last time you decided to end things out of guilt, he didn't really take it well. Something tells you if you told him the whole truth, he wouldn't take it well either. What would you even tell him when you're confused yourself?

“Okay.” he says unsurely.

He leans back against the couch, letting a sigh escape his lips as you two sit in silence. It's awkward. He doesn't want to ask any more questions, thinking if you wanted to tell him you probably would. But one question that has already been asked still lingers in the air and after a moment of silently watching you, he can't help it but ask you again.

“Y/N, really, what are you doing here? I'm not kicking you out or anything but–is there a reason why you came to me?”

One thing is sure, you feel even worse after he says it and once he looks the horrification on your face, he opens his mouth again to justify.

“You got into a fight with my brother, you said you're taking a break. Did you pack some of your things with you? Where are you even going to stay?”

He hopes you didn't come here because of that.

The last thing Yoongi needs is for his brother to be knocking on his door or be involved any more than he already is. Just the fact you came here made him slightly involved and he doesn't like that. He was doing fine. His business is going good and finally, Yoongi is out of debts – thanks to the money Yeonseok gave him in a big exchange. He didn't do it for free though.

After you decided to break things off which ended up being a success for you too in the end, he thought he would never have to deal with this shit again. But here you are, cheeks stained with tears and in a state Yoongi would never imagine for you to be in.

“I had to leave in the middle of our fight. I didn't bring any stuff with me. I wasn't thinking…” You shake your head at your own stupidity while Yoongi gives you a pitiful look.

“Look, let me be straight with you. I wouldn't want to get involved in your personal problems with my brother. I'm glad I don't have to face him again and this thing we did–is way past us.” He tries to explain, mentally cringing how weird he sounds but he's only trying to voice out his thoughts.

You gape at him. A part of you understands him but the other is hurt how he doesn't care. Why would he? What did you expect of him? You know what… you expected him to be here for you, to maybe help you or assure you everything's going to be fine. Like a friend.

But you only realize he never was.

And you only hate yourself for it, because you made yourself to believe that in a way, he cared for you and wasn't so careless as Yeonseok pictured him – along with their parents.

“Don't worry, Yoongi. I'm planning to stay at a hotel.” You sound a little bitter but Yoongi doesn't comment on it.

The thing is, Yeonseok offered to move to another place but since you left in the middle of the argument, one that wouldn't probably end if you didn't leave, but right now you're not so sure. Is he still there? Where can you go grab your things? Are you even staying at your place or you will have to move out? Where will you go? You don't know anything.

It's a lot for your mind and body. You just want to be somewhere safe where you could possibly cry yourself to sleep.

“I just don't know what you want from me, Y/N.” Yoongi reminds you with an edge to his tone. “You can't come here and talk about being a single mom. What do you expect me to do, Y/N?”

You open your mouth, staring at him in disbelief.

“I don't expect you to do anything, Yoongi.” you bite back and he only scoffs.

“You and Yeonseok were willing to do anything to have this baby. You gotta figure it out.”

“I gotta figure it out.” you scoff under your breath.

“Yes, Y/N.”

God, you suddenly hate when he says your name. He sounds so stern and frustrated. He has never spoken to you like this.

“Or what did you expect me to do?”

You hate how accusing he suddenly sounds and it makes you frown as you look at him with a glare.

“I don't know what I expected but this was certainly not it. It was a mistake to come here.”

“I think you know.” He successfully ignores your remark but something tells you he definitely agrees with you. He doesn't want you here. Like he said, he doesn't want to get involved and that's a clue enough for you. But you stay glued to your place, ready for more throws from him.

“What?” you deadpan.

“Oh, come on. How more obvious can you get? Yeonseok starts talking shit about not being the father and you come to me,” he says firmly, suddenly standing up as his hand goes to his silver hair before he lets go. “I don't want kids, Y/N, I told you that. I'm not your kid's father.”

Every word he says is like a knife digging into your heart. Most importantly, you realize what he must be thinking. He questioned your motive for coming here and now he thinks you came here because you expected him to offer you god knows what. Apparently to take Yeonseok's place just in case he decides not to be a father after all.

He got it all wrong.

Your mistake and your own confusion has brought you into the mess. And Yoongi accusing you of something that's not even true hurts as fuck. And you could try to explain it to him but the truth is – his words hurt. They hurt so much that you can't bring yourself to explain anything.

However, his words are harsh regardless of how cold he sounds to be talking about a kid he helped to beget.

You stand up too, glaring at him through your teary eyes as you furiously wipe your cheeks.

“That's not why I came here at all. That's not what I want from you.” you tell him firmly despite your voice shaking.

“Really? Because–”

“You know what, fuck you.” You don't let him finish as you spring out of the room, not caring how harshly you open the door as you make it past his friends.

They stop in the midst of their conversation, not hanging around the reception table this time but unpacking some of the boxes as they stare at you while you storm out of the shop. Fuck Min Yoongi. Fuck all of them.

You've managed to dig yourself even a deeper hole with the Min brothers.

#networkbangtan #ksmutclub #btswritingcafe #ficswithluv #bts smut #yoongi x reader #yoongi smut #yoongi fanfic #bts fluff #bts angst #bts au #suga smut #personasintro

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mothdruid · 1 year

Text

The Librarian

pairing: Rhett Abbott x Librarian fem!reader

summary: Rhett wasn't expecting to find you as the new librarian, let alone the one that was teaching Amy's summer reading program. Over the course of the summer program you two start casually dating, falling in love with one another.

wc: 10.3k

warnings: fluff, smut, 18+, mdni, pet names (mouse, darlin', sweetheart), oral sex, hand jobs, unprotected sex (p in v), alcohol use, swearing

a/n: finally! it's here! i hope you all enjoy it!

Rhett had been surprised when he heard that Cecilia signed Amy up for a summer reading program. Summer was meant for fun and helping out around the ranch, not having your nose stuffed in a book. Amy seemed happy about it though, so Rhett didn’t question it too much. What Rhett did question was why he had to go pick her up.

“It’s just for today, Rhett.” Rhett huffed and rolled his eyes for a moment. Rhett got to his feet, grabbing his ball cap and placing it on his head. Why couldn’t she just go pick her up? She was the one who enrolled Amy in the program anyways. Amy was a smart young girl, she made him proud to call her family. Sometimes he wondered how such a smart person had come out of their family. It wasn't that they weren't smart, just not necessarily book smart. Perry had been the only one who went to college, making Rhett hope Amy would eventually follow Perry's footsteps.

After Rhett muttered an agreement, he grabbed his keys and headed out to his truck. The ride into town wasn't too bad, hot like any other summer day. The heat like this reminded Rhett of his youth, days when he was much more concerned about looking cool than reading a book. A chuckle or two would come out when he thought about it by himself, remembering how much of a prick he used to be. He never spent much time in the library growing up, it was never something that interested him. It tended to just remind him of how much he had hated school.

Rhett pulled into the parking lot of the library, killing his engine with a twist of his keys. He waited for a moment before checking his phone.

pick up is inside the library - mom

Rhett rolled his eyes once more, exiting the vehicle and heading up to the doors. Sometimes he wondered how Wabang was able to have such a nice library. Afford one that wasn't falling apart. Rhett made his way in, finding his way up to the main desk. A middle aged woman greeted him, answering his question and pointing him in the right direction. Rhett walked past a few different areas before coming up on a slightly open space. Couches and tables with chairs littered the area with about fifteen kids sitting at them. Some kids were talking amongst themselves, while only a select few were actually reading.

"Can I help you?" A soft and oddly familiar voice interrupted his sight seeing. Rhett was surprised when he turned, seeing you looking at him. It had been years since he'd seen you, high school in all honesty. He hadn't even heard that you were back in town. He didn't remember you ever looking this cute.

"I.. I'm.." You smiled at him, watching as he tumbled over his words. He closed his mouth, jaw clenching as embarrassment plagued him.

"Well, hello to you too, Rhett. I'm assuming you're here for Amy?" Rhett nodded. Why couldn't he just fucking talk?

"When did you get here?" Rhett asked bluntly. One of your eyebrows raised, a little confused by the question.

"Do you mean when I showed up behind you? Or when did I come back to Wabang?"

"The second one." Finally, his words were working again. Rhett looked you up and down for a moment, taking in your brown overalls and white long sleeve shirt. You were holding onto a few children's books, a small silver necklace hanging around your neck.

"Earlier this year, got this job shortly after. I've been flying under the radar. Under your radar." It wasn't a secret that the two of you had a history. Throughout high school the two of you pined over one another, that was until Maria came along. It hurt a little at first, knowing that you weren't Rhett's first choice, but you also knew that his hormones were too high at the time. By junior year the two of you had moved on, only making small talk when needed during class or at school events.

Your family had always been singled out as the "weird" family in Wabang. It was mainly because your family didn't ranch. They didn't do anything relatively "normal" for the culture in Wabang, aside from taking you and your siblings to the rodeo every now and then. It had never bothered you, and sometimes Rhett wondered if that was why he had a crush. You were different, but not too far off. Always had your nose stuck in a book instead of trying to get fucked after the Friday night football game.

Rhett let out an amused noise at your confession.

"That so?" Rhett smiled at you, the curve gathering to one side of his mouth.

"No, it's not. Just pushing your buttons." There it was, that odd quirkiness that seemed to pull Rhett in so long ago. He watched you give him a wink before you walked over to Amy. She was sitting at a table alone, reading a book. His heart warmed as he watched you tap Amy's shoulder for her attention. You leaned over and whispered that Rhett was here to pick her up. Amy immediately lit up, excited that her uncle was the one retrieving her.

Amy quickly gathered up all of her things, shoving her book into her backpack before you walked her over to Rhett. "I didn't know you were getting me today." Amy said with a bit of excitement. Rhett smiled at her words.

"Neither did I." Amy giggled quietly as she started to head towards the front of the library. Rhett nodded his head at you, a soft smile still plastered on his lips.

"I'll see you around."

"Yeah, see you around cowboy."

Rhett couldn’t believe that he volunteered to pick Amy up. Again. Rhett was finding him picking her up from her reading program more often than he wanted to admit. It had been two full weeks into June, meaning the program was one third of the way done. Cecilia informed him after the first day that it was a six week program. Six lucky weeks that Amy got to spend with you.

Rhett didn’t want to admit that he was going to see you. But he knew deep down that was the main reason. Seeing you for not even a full five minutes was slowly becoming the highlight of his days. Amy and Cecilia also started to notice his happy demeanor after picking her up.

“What’s got you so uppity?” Cecilia asked when they walked through the door. A devilish smirk appeared on Amy’s face. She set her backpack down near the table. Rhett rolled his eyes at the both of them, setting his keys on the table.

“Uncle Rhett likes the librarian.” Rhett narrowed his eyes at her, a look of disbelief on his face. Amy giggled as she watched Rhett shake his head at her and held his finger up to his lips. It was supposed to be their secret, one they didn’t speak about. Cecilia turned around with a smirk on her face.

“It ain’t Mrs. Benson, is it?” Cecilia joked with Amy. Rhett gave her a simple ‘what the fuck’ face, listening to Amy giggle some more.

“No, Grandma! Mrs. Benson’s too old for Uncle Rhett. It’s Miss Y/LN.” Cecilia raised an eyebrow, acting surprised. It wasn’t like she had forgotten who you were, or who your family was. She remembered Rhett talking about you a little bit in high school, and how you would volunteer at the local old folks home. Cecilia had always known you were a kind soul, something she knew that might work out Rhett's rough edges. Amy trotted off to the stairs, running up the steps quickly to go search her room for something.

“Rhett..” He gave her a curious look, not exactly able to pinpoint the tone in her voice. Cecilia threw her dish towel up over her shoulder, leaning back against the kitchen counter.

“What ‘ma?” Rhett didn’t like her silence. He slowly started to recognize the situation more than the tone of her voice.

“That’s Amy’s teacher right now. You can’t be messing anyth-”

“I ain’t messing anything up, ‘ma. Besides.. She’d be too smart for me anyways.” Rhett smiled while he thought about you. It had been a long time since someone made him feel like this. Feel more than just the urge to fuck. It was an urge to meet you, learn everything about you, the ins and outs of your very essence.

“Well someone has to be smart enough to look out for you. Lord knows me and Perry can’t do it forever.” Rhett’s gaze flicked up at her from that table, a glint in his look. He hated to admit it was the truth. He wasn’t rushing to settle down anytime soon, but he sure did yearn for it from time to time. And one of those times happened to be now.

Which is what led him to now. Sitting in the parking lot of the library, twenty minutes before he was supposed to arrive. His foot was tapping on the floor near the gas pedal, his nerves finally starting to get to him. After the conversation with Cecilia, he planned to ask you out. But now it was one week later, three full weeks into the summer program. He looked up at the ceiling of his truck, pulling the brim of his hat down to cover his eyes. “Fuck.”

Rhett moved out of his truck, finally deciding that this was it. It was now or never. He tipped his hat to Mrs. Benson who gave him a small smile. “You’re early, Rhett.” He nodded his head to her, walking up to the front desk.

“I know Mrs. Benson, I was hoping to talk with Miss Y/LN. I don’t want to interrupt the kids though.” Rhett whispered to her with a smile. It was a partial truth, he didn’t want to interrupt them. He also didn’t want them to see him ask out their summer learning teacher. Mrs. Benson gave him a knowing look. Was it actually that obvious?

“She’s in the back room. There will be a door all the way down the third aisle of the non-fiction area. Just over there.” Mrs. Benson pointed in a direction near where the kids would be, but not that exact spot. Rhett tipped his hat and gave her a nod with a thank you. He headed off to find you, making sure he didn’t get lost somewhere in the library. Perry would never let him live that down.

Rhett peaked around the corner of what he thought was the third aisle. He was rewarded by seeing an open door at the end of it. He made his way down the aisle, knocking on the wooden door frame when he got to the doorway. He poked his head in, looking around in the old store room. It wasn’t very big, but sizable. There were three aisles within the room, made by many bookshelves that housed old, unused, and extra copies of books.

“Come in!” He recognized your voice immediately. There was a small rustling noise that came from the third aisle, letting him know where to find you. After a few steps into the room he peered around, finding you on your tip-toes trying to grab a book from above.

“Need any help?” Rhett asked, hoping you would entertain his offer. He took in your outfit, a knee length maroon skirt with a neatly tucked in beige button down. A pair of slip-on black Toms covered your feet, which you rolled back onto after not reaching the book. You looked down the aisle at him, surprised to see him, a small smile covered your lips.

“Some help would be much appreciated. Normally,” he made his way down the aisle, “there is a stool. But it is MIA today apparently.” Rhett nodded with a smile, reaching for the book you pointed at. You checked your watch, seeing there was another fifteen minutes before pick up. “Pretty early today, Rhett.”

“Yeah,” he handed the book to you and watched you flip the pages, “I wanted to talk to you.”

“Oh, that so?” You looked at him, his warm oases staring down to meet your own eyes.

“Yeah, it is.” You moved back, leaning against the wall behind you. Rhett moved to stand in front of you, your hands clutching the book to your chest. Your heart fluttered, this exact situation being something you had dreamed about since meeting him. You could tell something was different, he was a little different. It wasn’t just the awkward small talk the two of you had while he picked Amy up.

“Well, go on.” Rhett bit his bottom lip for a moment, thinking about the right way to ask you. He had been over it multiple times prior, but now his mind was failing him.

“Would you like to go out? Like to dinner or something.” Rhett ran his tongue over his bottom lip, pulling your gaze away from his. You watched as the slick muscle glided over the dry skin, wetting it thoroughly. Rhett took notice and moved a little bit closer to you. Your cheeks filled with a warmth when you noticed how close he was, only a few inches away.

“I-I would like that, Rhett.” He never thought he would be able to get someone as articulate as you, to stumble over her words. You looked away for a brief moment, turning your head to look down the hallway. Rhett brought a finger up to your cheek, gently pulling your face back to face him. A soft smile matched his soft gaze. He tipped his hat up, leaning closer to you.

When his lips pressed against your it was like fireworks went off. It was gentle, a gentleness you were surprised Rhett had inside of him. One of his hands moved to your waist, just resting, while the other cupped your jaw and cheek. Three weeks of small talk and ruminating on memories had finally come to a precipice. The kiss wasn’t anything crazy, maybe the beginnings of what could have been an intense makeout. Rhett pulled back, the hand on your waist moved to adjust his hat a little bit. His thumb was rubbing your cheek, making your heart flutter.

“When do you want me to pick you up?”

“There ain’t no way.”

“No, I’m being serious!” The two of you had moved to the Handsome Gambler after diner, deciding to get a few drinks.

“How am I supposed to believe that little ol’ you stole a traffic cone?” Rhett could barely picture it in his brain. University years you drunkenly toting home a traffic cone. Not to mention the fact you were apparently living in the dorms at the time.

“I was different then, more wild.” You sipped at your cider while watching him. That dopey smile appeared again, making your heart flutter. It was true that your years at university were a bit more wild. Experiencing everything that wasn’t little ol’ Wabang was exciting at the time. You tried to experience as much as you could while at university. Partying, drinking, smoking, fucking, etc. It was all new and something you needed to try, at least once.

“I just,” Rhett leaned across the table a little bit as his voice lowered, “can’t really picture it.” You cocked your head to the side, giving him a questioning look.

“Picture what, Mr. Abbott?” Rhett felt a heat rise to his cheeks at your words. Mr. Abbott had always been a title reserved for his father, but he couldn't ignore what it stirred up in him. He leaned back into the booth seat, his hand holding his beer firmly on the table.

"Picture you out partying and what not. I'm just used to you being a little bookmouse." Rhett was mentally kicking himself in the ass. Bookmouse? What the hell was that?

"A bookmouse?" Rhett flushed even more, trying to hide his embarrassment.

"Yeah," Rhett thumbed the rim of his glass bottle, "cause you liked books and were quiet." Another flutter. You couldn't help but smile at Rhett's cuteness. The way he was talking, both awkwardly and confidently, made you giggle.

"Well, this bookmouse did a lot more than just read books at university." You winked at him. Rhett's mind swirled with possibilities of what you meant. He shifted in his seat, adjusting himself in his pants. "Maybe I'll show you some day."

Rhett raised an eyebrow at your proposition. Fuck, he liked the sound of that. He leaned over the table one more time, "How's about we get out of here?" Eyes flicking towards the door.

"I'd love to but," Rhett's eyebrows knitted together, "I gotta get stuff ready for the kids tomorrow." Rhett had almost forgotten that it was the middle of the week. He actually had forgotten until you grounded him. Rhett nodded, jaw clenching in a casual way. He wasn’t annoyed at you, more or less annoyed with the situation. Rhett loved that you enjoyed helping the kids with reading, making sure they grew up smart. Just like you.

“How’s about,” you mocked with a glint in your eye, “you take me home, cowboy?” Rhett smirked at your request, watching you finish off your bottle of cider. He nodded and finished off his own drink. He climbed out of the booth and offered his hand out to you. You gladly took it, lacing your arm around his.

The walk to his truck was full of giggles, your feet not wanting to keep you balanced. It had been awhile since you decided to drink, mainly leaving it back in your university days. Rhett was there for every stumble though, a smile plastered on his face while he caught you. When the two of you got to his truck you leaned near the rear fender, staring at him. A soft giggle came out of you, earning you a cute questioning face from Rhett.

“Hmm?” Rhett crept closer to you, his hands grabbing the top of the truck's bed. Rhett had effectively caged you between him and his truck. “What’s got you gigglin’ like that?” Rhett leaned towards you, bringing a hand up to tip up the brim of his hat. Rhett was only a few inches away from your face. Rhett couldn’t get enough of this, seeing you nearly pinned underneath him.

“You’re cute.” Rhett could smell a hint of cider on your breath, lacing your words while you talked. “I want you to come home with me.”

“You’re pretty cute yourself.” Rhett tilted his head so his lips were near your ear, “And that could be arranged.” Rhett’s hand traveled down to your waist. You squinted at him, remembering your words from earlier.

“We can’t do anything tho-” The hand that was on the truck came to your cheek as his lips covered yours. It was another gentle kiss, just like the one earlier in the back room. Your hands rested against his chest while his lips worked over yours.

“We don’t have to.” Rhett didn’t want to pressure you into anything. He wanted this to work out. He yearned for it to work out. “I’ll help you get stuff ready for the kids, promise.” Rhett pressed a small kiss to your cheek before removing himself from you. He stepped towards the passenger side door, opening it and gesturing for you to climb in. “Hop on in.”

The ride back to your little house was quick, not too far out of town. You always deemed yourself lucky by getting somewhere this close in town, not out in the middle of nowhere. Rhett’s hand sat planted on your thigh, thumb rubbing small circles during the ride. Rhett made sure to get the door for you, offering his hand to stabilize you when you stepped out of his truck. A smile spread across his face when he saw the inside of your place. Art adorned the walls while the shelves of your bookcases were packed full. It was messy but neat, something Rhett always found captivating about you.

“Whatcha think?” You toed your shoes off while you looked at him, balancing yourself against the wall. Rhett took off his own boots then followed you into the kitchen.

“It’s you.” Rhett couldn’t think of any other way your house would be. It felt homey. It felt like you. You grabbed out two glasses from the cabinet, filling them up with water from the sink. You offered him one, which he reluctantly accepted. Water wasn’t his favorite type of drink, but it would do for now. Rhett placed his hat on your kitchen table, sitting down while you sat across from him.

For the rest of the night the two of you joked while getting around your items for the program. Rhett questioned your choices of coloring pages, while you pressured him to drink more water to sober up. A warmth had spread all over him, knowing this is the spot he wanted to be. He wanted to be here helping you get wax paper ready for sun catchers, and laughing about the embarrassing old things the two of you had done.

“Sleep is finally catching up with me.” You checked your phone briefly, seeing how late it was. Rhett hadn’t realized how late it actually was. A part of him was surprised that you were even up this late. He thought you might be the type that went to bed at 10pm almost every night.

“It’s about time I left then.” Rhett didn’t want to leave, he wished he could stay forever. He reached for his hat, fingers barely touching it when he spoke up.

“Or you could stay.” Your eyes met his, watching as his tongue wetted his bottom lip. Rhett tugged his bottom lip between his teeth. The proposition was too tempting.

“Would that be okay?” His cerulean eyes never left yours. After a moment you averted your eyes and nodded. The two of you placed your cups in the sink before making your way back to your bedroom. A nervousness was settling inside of you, a part of you worried that things would get out of hand. Rhett noticed this and placed his hands on your shoulders, pulling you in so his chest was pressed against your back. “It’ll be okay, we won’t do anything you don’t want to.”

Rhett wouldn’t admit it, but he was also nervous. Nervous to finally have you in this manner, something so domestic. It was scary, opening himself up to someone. It was more terrifying than riding a thousand pound bull. The thrill was much different though. “I don’t have any pants for you to sleep in.” Rhett nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck.

“I’ll wear my underwear, if that’s fine.” You reassured him that that was okay before moving out of his grasp. You dug into your own dresser, finding your own sleep shorts and then an old t-shirt. You excused yourself to the bathroom, taking your clothes to change into. You hadn’t expected your nerves to ramp up.

After you brushed your teeth and changed you made your way back to your bedroom. Rhett sat on the edge of his bed, typing out something on his phone. He had shucked off his pants and flannel while you were gone, sitting in his grey boxer briefs and white t-shirt. A flutter stirred inside your chest, making your nerves jump up again. Rhett set his phone on the side table before noticing you were back.

“Oh, hey.” A small smile covered his lips when he saw you. God, you were so fucking beautiful. He took in your messy hair and old Wabang High t-shirt, one that he probably also had laying around somewhere.

“There is a spare toothbrush in the bathroom cabinet.” Rhett nodded before standing up. He stopped next to you, bringing a hand up to your cheek. A small kiss was placed on your forehead. Rhett’s thumb rubbed softly against your cheek until he left for the bathroom. You climbed into bed, a loving smile on your face.

Many thoughts swirled around in your head but one specifically stood out. He is the one you would want to do this with every night. He is the one you wanted to be domestic with. The one you didn’t want to screw up with. Rhett was the one.

The sound of your alarm woke you up first. You quickly turned it off, not wanting the blaring noise to continue any longer. When you laid back down a firm arm wrapped around your midsection. It reminded you that there was someone else inside of your bed. Rhett Abbott. He was pulling you back into his toned chest.

Heat radiated from his chest to your back, igniting a flame inside of you. This is everything you ever wanted. The man you had always wanted curled up behind you, keeping you close to him. If it wasn’t for having to work you would lay here all day with him. Rolling around in the sheets, the both of you treating each other to all the pleasures you had to offer. But alas, the library was calling. You went to sit up, the firm arm not releasing you.

“Don’t.” His voice was gruff, soaked in sleep still. When you looked at him he kept his face pressed into your shoulder blade, rutting his hips into your ass lightly. The heat in your chest moved up to your cheeks, his erect cock pressing into the flesh of your ass. A small part of you loved that he wasn’t even trying to hide it. Hide the effect you had on him, especially so early in the morning.

“Rhett, I have to.” Rhett nuzzled into you, pressing his hips harder into your ass. Rhett was really trying to get you to stay, tempting you with something you both wanted. You didn’t have intentions of giving in fully, but what would be the harm and giving him something to remember?

Rhett’s hand gripped on your hip, you rolling your ass back onto his cock. A groan emanated out of him. “Fuck.” You pulled back from him and rolled over to face him. Rhett moved onto his back as you shifted to hover over him slightly. Your hand snaked under the blanket, palming his dick under the covers. Rhett let out a few more groans and profanities, eventually pushing the blanket down to his mid thigh.

Rhett’s breath was a touch shaky as you dipped your hand below the elastic band. His hips bucked slightly when you fully grasped his cock. Rhett groaned at the contact of your soft hand on his cock. “Fuck, darlin’.” His head fell back into the pillows as you watched him, feeling his cock pulse under your touch. Rhett’s hands drifted to push his boxer briefs down, letting you get a full view of everything. Rhett looked back up at you, oases warm and inviting as ever.

You connected your lips with his, consuming his groans while you continued to stroke his cock. His hips bucked every now and then, trying to get more friction. When you pulled back from the kiss, you moved your mouth down over his cock in your hand. After stopping your strokes you locked eyes with Rhett, letting a large glob of spit fall off your tongue to his cock in your hand. Rhett groaned as you resumed your strokes, a new slick feeling to your hand. You ran your thumb over his head every now and then, collecting his precum to mix with your spit.

“So dirty.” It was all Rhett could say as his hand gripped the back of your neck, pulling you up to him. He smashed his lips into yours, tongue forcing its way into your mouth. You never thought Rhett could get this needy, but god did you love it. Rhett’s cock started to twitch more often in your hand, signaling his orgasm was approaching. You pressed your forehead to his when you pulled back from the kiss. Then as faint as a whisper you heard him speak. “Please.”

“Give it to me Rhett, let go.” Rhett’s free hand moved to push up his t-shirt, showing off his flexing abdomen. Without another second Rhett was spilling his cum on your hand and his stomach. A ragged ‘fuck’ fell from his lips, with whimpers mixed with groans following. You stroked him through his orgasm, his hips stuttering and bucking with every stroke. Rhett couldn’t remember the last time a hand job made him feel this good.

Rhett laid there, blissed out on the bed. Rhett could barely focus on the world around him, only focusing on the amazing hand job he just had. He was pulled back from his thoughts when he felt a warm wet washcloth drag over his stomach, He groaned softly when you wiped off his cock, cleaning off all potential left over cum.

Rhett smiled as he watched you toss the washcloth into the hamper, moving back over to him on the bed. “That enough to hold you over?” Rhett pulled his boxer briefs back up around his waist. He leaned up and kissed you, one of his hands cupping your cheek.

“More than enough.”

For the next three weeks Rhett made it a point to show up for pick up early. He would seek you down in the library, not caring if you were with the kids or not. If you were with the kids he would patiently wait, scanning whatever bookshelves were closest. That’s where you caught him today.

“Gonna start reading anytime soon?” Rhett looked up from the shelf to see you. You were wearing a pair of mom jeans today, something you corrected him on a few weeks ago. The baggy sweater you wore complimented them. Rhett put on a little bit of an embarrassed smile as you crept a bit closer. He took his cowboy hat, leaning in a bit closer to you. He was only a few inches away from you now.

He couldn’t help but stare at you. How did he manage to actually capture your attention? Someone this ethereal giving him the time of day seemed like a dream. Your eyes flicked from his cerulean eyes to his lips. Rhett brought his hat up to the side of your faces, shielding anyone from seeing the two of you. It felt like the heat of the library had been turned up a few degrees.

Just as he was about to kiss you, you put your hand up to his chest. Rhett stopped immediately, not wanting to push too far. It wasn’t that he was worried about you not wanting him. You definitely wanted him, or at least that’s what he picked up on from late night texts and pictures you had sent him. “Hmm?”

“I don’t want any of the kids to see.” Rhett smiled. That was one thing he had learned to love about you within the few weeks. Even though they tended to be too much sometimes, you always thought of your summer program kids first.

“You’re right,” Rhett took a step back from you, “wouldn’t want them to get any ideas.” He placed his hat back on his head.

The two of you slowly made your way over to the work area for the kids. They were reading, as usual. You had told Rhett that this was the best way to get the kids to calm down before handing them back to their parents. Amy had always been a relatively calm kid, so he couldn’t imagine what she’d be like riled up.

“End of the week?” Rhett was counting down the days. Waiting for the end of the program to finally show up. Waiting for the night he could take you out, show you how much he cared about you. Rhett ashamedly couldn’t wait to bed you either. His own hand was starting to get boring, the only thing spicing it up was the half naked photos you sent him accompanied by texts about what you’d like to do with him. His brain clung to the memory of you jerking him off, something he couldn’t let go of. Which made the next day extra special.

Rhett barely got a lick of sleep that night, fisting his dick harshly until he came to the picture you sent him. It was as if you knew the effect you were having on him. Sending a picture in this old cowboy hat you had found somewhere, black lace bra and panties on display. It was a good thing that Rhett wasn’t a religious man, because he would definitely be condemned to hell after this month.

So, Rhett made sure to show up to the library an hour early that day, not just fifteen or twenty minutes. Mrs. Benson politely told him that you were in the back room again, a bit of a confused look on her face. He bee-lined for the back room, silently walking in and closing the door behind him. He made sure to switch the lock on the back room door before looking up and down the aisles for you. He found you in the third aisle, in just the outfit he needed you to wear for his plan. He had double checked in the morning, asking for an outfit picture which earned a small winky face with a picture.

The plaid skirt flared out from your hips, stopping at a little bit before your knees. A baggy cardigan covered your top, making Rhett wonder if you had a tank top or anything underneath it. God, he wished he could have done this sooner.

“Hey.” Rhett watched you jump slightly, spooked by his presence.

“Oh my god, Rhett. You scared me.” You held your hand over your chest, Rhett’s eyes trailing to look at your fingertips touching the bare skin of your clavicle. Nope, no tank top. It was the skin he craved to mark up, leave little trails that you could remember him by daily.

“Wasn’t my intention.” He flashed a crooked smile as he took a few steps closer. You could tell there was something different about him today, almost as if he was stalking you. When he reached you he pecked your cheek, making your heart flutter. You loved that he still had this effect on you. You checked your wristwatch, realizing he was much earlier than normal.

“What’s got you coming in so early? There ain’t another hour, well, forty-five-ish minutes before you have to be here.” You went to turn back to face the shelf but Rhett grabbed your wrist.

“Wanted to give you a surprise.” Rhett walked around you, guiding you so your back was almost against the bookshelf.

“A surprise? I don’t recall you saying you had one for me.” Rhett chuckled at your words, leaning in and kissing your jawline.

“Wouldn’ be much of a surprise then, now would it?” Rhett’s lips trailed down your neck, nipping every now and then. Your hands instinctively moved to his chest and shoulders, the material of his flannel soft under your fingertips. One of his hands settled on your waist while the other cradled the other side of your jaw and neck. A soft noise escaped you, urging Rhett to continue with his plan.

“Been waiting weeks,” he lips were soft on your neck in between words, “waiting patiently.” The hand on your waist found the bottom of your baggy cardigan. It was thrilling when he pushed it up slightly, his calloused fingertips grazing over the newly exposed skin.

“Rhett, I-”

“I locked the door.” He pulled back, pupils blown wide with lust as he stared at you. “Wanna make you feel good, the same way you did to me.” You checked your wrist watch again, seeing there was still forty minutes before you had to get the kids ready to leave.

“You better make it quickly then, Mr. Abbott.” Rhett groaned at the title you called him. You had picked up on it throughout the weeks, noticing how his breath would hitch after hearing it. Rhett smashed his lips into yours, a messy kiss pursuing.

The hand grazing your skin under your cardigan moved to the front of your skirt. Fingers dipped between the apex of your thighs, pressing tightly on your pussy. A moan was torn out of you, not expecting Rhett to do this. Was this the surprise he was talking about? It had to be. The hand on your pussy left your body, Rhett pulling back for a moment.

“I wanna taste you.” It felt like the breath had been knocked out of you. You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, slightly worried about the situation. What if someone were to walk in? Rhett did say he locked the door though. Finally you spoke.

“Depends on how quick you can be, Mr. Abbott.” A smirk tugged at his lips. Without warning, Rhett started to drop to his knees. His hands moved to the hem of your skirt, barely brushing the skin of your thighs.

“Don’t worry ma’am, I can be quick.” The heat in your cheeks boiled as you nodded your head. He pushed the plaid skirt up your thighs, kissing newly exposed skin. “Hold this.” Rhett said as he offered the edge of your skirt to you. You grabbed the material, holding it in your hands tightly. Rhett let out a groan when he saw your soft pink lace panties.

Without warning Rhett pressed his fingers against your panties, rubbing softly at first. Rhett could feel a wetness soaking through the front of your panties. He watched as your hands tightened on your skirt, faltering slightly. His hand touched yours, eyes flicking up to meet yours. “Keep your skirt up, sweetheart.” Your cheeks burned at the pet name he had started to call you through the weeks.

Rhett moved closer, fingers hooking into the waistband of your panties. He slowly guided them down your legs, taking them off and sneakily placing them in his back pocket. He pressed quick kisses to your thighs before reaching your bare cunt. Rhett pushed his tongue between your folds, licking at your clit. You used one hand to hold your skirt, stabilizing yourself with the bookshelf behind you.

Your mouth hung agape as Rhett flicked and licked at your pussy. One of his arms wrapped under your thigh, placing one of your legs over his shoulder. You gripped the shelf behind you tighter, pleasure mounting inside of you. Rhett brought a hand up, slipping a finger inside of your entrance. It was a stretch, but it wasn’t enough. The sensation made you yearn for more, yearn for more of Rhett to be inside of you.

“Rhett..” His name was barely a whisper on your lips, trying to stay quiet. You looked over at your wrist watch once more, noticing only ten minutes had passed. Rhett pushed another finger inside of you, earning a moan as your head lolled back. His two fingers thrusted into you as his mouth gave all its attention to your clit.

“You taste so good.” Rhett whispered just loud enough for you to hear. “Been thinking about this for weeks.” The hand on your skirt tightened a little bit more, your hips starting to cant forward. You started to roll your hips against Rhett’s mouth, the vibrations from one of his groans adding to your pleasure. Rhett’s fingers prodded at that sensitive spot inside of you, increasing the speed of his tongue flicking your clit.

With that combination you let go, coming all over Rhett's mouth. Rhett’s tongue switched from the quick flicks to slow languid strokes, helping not to overstimulate you too much. Soft moans poured out of you, riding out your climax on Rhett’s tongue. Rhett pulled away from you, his fingers leaving you empty inside. A strong desire within you wished he would fill you again, with his cock this time. But you knew that there wouldn’t be any time for that.

Rhett helped lower your leg down, standing up and making sure you were stable. You let your skirt fall, reaching out and grabbing his hand. You brought his hand up to his mouth, taking the two fingers covered in your cum into your mouth. Your tongue swirled around his digits, making him groan and adjust himself in his jeans.

“You’re so dirty.” Rhett whispered against your cheek, his forehead resting against your temple. “Told you you tasted good, don’t ya?” You nodded. You popped off of his fingers, licking your lips afterwards.

“Can I get my underwear back?” You asked playfully. Rhett smirked again, giving you your answer. “Really?”

“It’s my prize, sweetheart.”

The two of you left the back room, earning a questioning look from Mrs. Benson. It was only ten minutes before the other children's parents would start showing up. Rhett hung around and chatted with you, letting Amy keep reading her book. Which ended up with her still reading after all of the other kids had left. Rhett said she could use the time, but you knew the real reason why he was hanging around.

It was a Friday night, which meant the summer program was over. It had ended that morning, Rhett showing up early to pick Amy up for the last time. He hadn’t mentioned this ride all week, probably not wanting to pressure you into coming. But you wouldn’t have considered it pressuring, you wanted to see him.

Rhett was beyond happy to see you out at his competition tonight. Even more happy when you gave him a small kiss, telling him to break a leg. It was something you had picked up in college, your theater friends explaining that it was bad luck to wish someone good luck before a show. Which you had explained to Rhett briefly one night while the two of you were cuddled up watching a movie. Rhett couldn’t help but think that was what saved him during his ride, when his hand felt like it was gonna slip from the rope. It didn’t though, finishing his ride without anything bad happening.

Tonight was the first time he was allowed to show any type of overly affectionate PDA. Finding you after his ride couldn’t come soon enough. You were hanging out near the rider area, patient as always. Rhett just needed you, needed to thank you for everything. You let out a squeal when his arms snaked around you, picking you up and spinning you around. You quickly grabbed for your glasses, making sure they wouldn’t fall off your face. Hoots and howls could be heard from the other riders. Rhett tipped his hat after he set you down, hand caressing your jawline. His lips connected with yours, butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

It was a gentle kiss, like a lot of the kisses you had shared so far. Kisses at the library, when he took you home after dinner, on the couch cuddled up. So many gentle kisses before, but this one was different. It was something unspoken in this one. An unspoken amount of love for one another.

“Let me take you home.” He whispered, adrenaline still pumping through his system. Rhett hunted down Perry, instructing him to drive his truck home. Perry gave him a knowing look before telling him he was proud of him.

Your heart raced as you sat in the passenger seat, Rhett driving the both of you back. His hand was glued to the inside of your thigh, thumb rubbing small circles. It wasn’t that you were nervous to be with Rhett, that was not it. It was the gravity of the day. The two of you had been keeping things as steady as possible, not wanting anything to get too convoluted while you were teaching Amy. But you weren’t teaching her anymore. The two of you were essentially free now, free to be together to the fullest extent.

“We don’t hav-”

“I want to.” You looked at Rhett, his eyes flicking over to you before focusing back on the road. You adjusted your glasses, “I’m not nervous about doing it or anything.”

“I mean you did promise to show me your wild side one day.” Rhett snickered, remembering the first night the two of you went out.

“I think your surprise at the library counted as that.” You shot him a playful glare as the two of you pulled into your driveway. “It’s just..” Your words trailed off, biting at your lower lip.

“Jus’ what?” There was a short silence. The look on your face was softer now, not as playful. But Rhett could tell you were struggling with something, there was clearly something on your mind. He reached out, rough fingertips gently guided your face to look at his. Rhett knew it had to be now that he told you the thing he had wanted to tell you for weeks.

“I love you.” The two of you said it at the same, confessing your love for one another. You let out a giggle as Rhett flashed you a big smile. He leaned in towards you, grabbing your chin between his thumb and forefinger. His lips moved heatedly on yours, consuming everything you had to offer. His hand shifted to the curve of your jaw, fingers splaying out near your ear. The kiss continued for a moment longer before you both pulled back for air.

“Inside, now.” You demanded.

Rhett killed the engine while you got out. His hand snaked around your waist when you got to the door. While you pulled your keys out, Rhett’s hand sneaked into the back pocket of your jeans. A brief squeeze on your ass had you shooting him a look. He smiled, leaning in to press a kiss onto your neck. “Who locks their door out here?”

“It’s an old habit from the big city.” You explained while you slid the key inside the lock. “Plus, I don’t want any unwanted critters inside.” The two of you stumbled in the doorway, Rhett still close by your side.

“Is that what I am? Unwanted critter?” Rhett joked, hands pulling you flush against him after closing the door. You giggled as he started nipping at your neck.

“Don’t think I’d tell an unwanted critter I love him.” Rhett chuckled at your response. The two of you headed through the hallway, hands and lips traveling all over each other. Rhett’s flannel and hat had been lost in the living room, yours in the hallway.

Once to your bedroom, Rhett started to take a bit more control. His hands gripped your hips and pulled them tight to his. You could feel his cock getting hard in his jeans, his belt buckle digging into your hip. One hand moved to your face, cupping your cheek while kissing you roughly. He kept walking you back until the bed hit the back of your knees. The kiss broke as you went to lay down on the bed, Rhett following you immediately.

"You look so beautiful." Rhett said as he admired your beauty. He finally had you laid out underneath him, a dream come true. His hands ghosted over your sides, grabbing at your hips and pulling them tightly to his. Your arms snaked around his shoulders, fingers combing up through the hairs on the nape of his neck. Rhett’s mouth worked on your neck, groaning as he left a wet trail along your skin.

A small giggle came out of you as he nosed along up your neck. He kissed up your jaw before pulling up to look at you, “What’s got you gigglin’”?

“Oh nothing, Mr. Abbott.” Rhett rutted his hips into you harshly at the name.

“You better watch yourself with saying that.”

“What? Don’t like it, Mr. Abbott.” You teased. Rhett groaned, fingers grabbing your chin tightly.

“You know what that does to me.” You pulled him down and connected your lips with his. The both of you smiled into the kiss as your hips rocked together. His hands moved to the hem of your t-shirt, pushing up the shirt to get access to your skin. Fingers ghosted and trailed up the skin of your midsection. He pushed the shirt up over your chest, exposing the light pink lace of your bralette. Your back arched when he grabbed your breasts, kneading over the lace.

“Like what you see?” You only half joked.

“You have no idea.” Rhett tugged at your shirt more, signaling it was time to remove the article. After your shirt was gone Rhett kissed the valley between your breasts. His hands kneading at your flesh while kissing your chest. His fingers slipped underneath the band of your bralette, guiding it up over your head.

It was the first time he had seen your bare breasts. Yeah, you had sent pics of you in lingerie to him, but never anything completely bare. He pressed a few more kisses all over your chest before taking a nipple into his mouth. Your back arched slightly, his mouth consuming more of your breast. His thumb and forefinger started pinching and rolling your other nipple. Your fingers threaded through his hair, tugging lightly.

“Rhett.” His name was barely a whisper on your lips. You could feel him groan around your nipple when your hand trailed down between the two of you. You palmed the front of his jeans, his cock pressing hard against your hand. Rhett sat up, pulling his own shirt off and undoing his belt buckle and jeans. After he shucked them off he moved to undo your jeans.

“A matching set?” Rhett questioned when he saw the light pink lace panties. You had planned it out all week, knowing that you would finally have a moment like this. A moment of being completely vulnerable to Rhett. His fingers ghosted up over your legs as he settled between your legs. You felt completely bare under his warm oasis of a gaze. A bit of nervousness flowed through you, nodding softly as a response to his question.

“Cat got your tongue, mouse?” You shot him a little look. The little name took you by surprise, a small call back to your first night at the bar. Fingertips trailed over the pink lace covering your core. Rhett started rubbing his fingers on your clothed cunt, feeling the small wet patch that had started to form. His gaze locked with yours as you let moans and gasps fall from your lips. His hands moved to the edges of the lace, pulling them down slowly over your legs.

After tossing the panties somewhere behind him, he grabbed one of your ankles and lifted it up to his lips. He pressed a soft kiss to the inside of your ankle. Soft lips continued down the inside of your leg, Rhett slowly settling against the bed. His hot breath fanned over your cunt, your insides clenching at the sensation. Rhett wrapped his arms around your thighs, keeping you locked in place before he even started.

Rhett’s tongue flattened on your clit, licking slowly. Both of your hands snaked down, one landing on the comforter while the other took its place in Rhett’s hair. Your back arched, pleasure flowing through you with each lick of his tongue. One of his arms left your thigh, reaching out to your hand on the comforter. He laced his fingers with yours as he continued his feast between your thighs.

Gasps and moans mixed in with calls of Rhett’s name, urging him to continue. Small vibrations could be felt from Rhett’s groans, pushing you closer to your climax. The tightening sensation in your abdomen was becoming more noticeable. Rhett flicked his tongue on your clit then dragged it slowly back and forth.

“Holy fuck…” You could almost feel the smirk on his lips. Rhett flicked his tongue more intensely on your clit, finally pushing you over the edge.

This was a similar sensation that Rhett got from riding bulls, pure ecstasy. All Rhett could think was how beautiful you looked, coming all over his mouth. The way your back arched off the bed, hand tightening against his own. Seeing you give yourself up to him, letting him push you over the edge in such an intimate way had him grinding against the bed. Rhett couldn’t help but think about how good you would feel wrapped around his cock. Being connected at your core.

When he pulled back you finally got a break, your chest falling heavily. A small trail of wet kisses was created as Rhett moved back up your body. He nuzzled your neck and jaw, pressing more kisses before capturing your lips with his. You could taste yourself on his tongue, moaning into his mouth.

“You taste so fucking good, mouse.” You rolled your eyes.

“My turn to taste you.” You pressed your hand on his chest, acting as if you were going to roll the two of you over.

“Nah,” Rhett grabbed your hand and laced his fingers between yours, “I can’t wait to be in you any longer. Been waitin' too many weeks for this.” You rolled your hips up, feeling Rhett’s clothed cock press against your cunt. A groan rumbled in Rhett's throat while he captured your lips with his. One of his hands snaked down between the two of you, pushing his boxers down.

A moan passed your lips when you felt his cock rest against your pussy. Rhett haphazardly pushed his boxers all the way off. You brought your hand down to wrap around his cock. He groaned at the few strokes you gave him before you guided the tip to your entrance. Rhett propped himself up, looking down at you as his hips pushed forward.

Rhett watched as your jaw went slack. The stretch of his cock was intoxicating, filling you up the more his hips pushed forward. Your eyes never left Rhett's, warm oases welcoming you. A small whimper left Rhett once he bottomed out. Your warmth encapsulated him, letting him know this was where he was meant to be. Rhett eventually broke the stare, nuzzling down into your clavicle. Small kisses were peppered all over your skin.

Rhett dragged his hips back a little, slowly pushing forward the small amount. The sensation already had your body shivering with pleasure. Rhett started slowly rolling his hips, wanting to savor the moment as much as possible. He knew that the chances of this activity happening again were high, but he just needed for this moment to last. You wrapped one arm around Rhett's left shoulder, threading your fingers into his hair once more. Your other hand rested on the front of his chest.

"God, you're perfect." Rhett groaned, placing kisses along your neck and jawline. He knew sex would be special with you, but life-changing wasn't what he was expecting. The way your body reacted to every small touch had Rhett teetering on the edge of climax already.

"Rhett, I-" You couldn't finish the sentence, to caught up in the waves of pleasure flowing through you.

"What do you need, sweetheart?" Rhett pulled back to look down at you, cupping the side of your face. "Tell me."

"Harder."

Rhett pulled back, leaving just the tip inside of you. He kept his eyes on your face as he slammed back in hard. Your whole body reacted, back arching while your hands scrambled for purchase. Your mouth was agape as sinful sounds poured from it. Rhett kept this steady pace of hard thrusts, giving you exactly what you wanted.

"Oh fuck, Rhett!" The head of his cock pounded into the sensitive spot inside of you. Every time he hit it, a new jolt of pleasure ran through you. The coil in your lower abdomen was tight, about ready to snap and send you over the edge. You could tell Rhett was getting close too, harder breaths coming from him. Rhett didn't say a word, his hand moving between the two of you to rub your clit. That's when it was game over.

The combination of his fingers on your clit and powerful thrusts sent you tumbling over the edge. Pleasure washed over your nerves, Rhett’s finger still working your clit. Rhett groaned at the feeling of you clenching around him. His thrusts started to stutter, focusing on the feeling of your walls working his cock. Crescent shapes formed in Rhett’s skin, your nails digging harshly as he kept your orgasm going.

“Fuck, sweetheart. The way you feel,” Rhett pressed his forehead to yours, “I ain’t gon’ last.” You nodded as you stared into his eyes. It was Rhett’s turn for his mouth to be agape, groans and heavy breaths coming from him. Your fingers threaded into Rhett’s hair once more, pulling him down to the nuzzle against your clavicle. Rhett felt safe with you, rutting into your warmth that he had craved for weeks. It was a sense of security, something he had never truly felt in his life.

“Fuck, I love you.” Rhett whispered against your skin.

“I love you too, Rhett.” With those four words and his name he was gone. His hips steadied as he thrusted into you one last time. Small kisses littered your collarbones as he kept his hips tight to yours, spilling his cum inside of you.

The two of you laid there for sometime, Rhett still slotted between your thighs as your fingers traced small circles on his shoulder blades. He traced a small pattern along your side, basking in the subsiding afterglow. That sense of security was blanketed over him. He never wanted it to end, wanting to feel this safe forever. A part of him wondered how he had never felt it before but he knew why. He hadn’t had you before. Not just in a sexual way, but he had never fully experienced this kind of love. The love that let him know he was always welcome. Always loved.

“Hmm?” You questioned, sensing a tiny shift in his demeanor. It wasn’t a bad shift, something much softer than what you thought Rhett might be capable of.

“Nothin’, I just..” Rhett propped himself up on his elbows, looking down at you. Your beauty was something Rhett could still marvel at. Like watching the early morning sun rise. “You make me feel something.” Small butterflies could be felt in your stomach.

“Feel what?” Rhett smiled, pushing some hair back from your face.

“Welcome.” A kiss. “Safe.” Another kiss. “Happy.” Another kiss. “Loved.” A final kiss. A warmth had raised into your cheeks. The smile on his face was one that was pure. The two of you stared at each other for a few more moments, just taking one another in. Rhett shifted, pulling himself out of you. Even though he was softened it still felt like you were losing something. Rhett moved to the spot on the bed next to you. You rolled on your side to look at him, letting out a soft noise as his cum started leaking out of you.

“We should clean up and talk.” The look he gave you was one full of sincerity.

“Talk about what?” You questioned. You used a playful tone to mask the tiny amount of anxiety you suddenly had. Rhett must have noticed because he cupped your cheek when he sat up.

“Don’t worry,” he pressed a kiss to your nose, “it’s nothin’ bad, mouse.”

The two of you made your way to the bathroom. Rhett used a warm washcloth to clean himself up, you sitting on the toilet watching him. It was domestic, something you could get used to. Might even let him clean you up the next time. Rhett kissed your forehead before heading back to the bedroom, letting you finish using the toilet and cleaning up.

Rhett had climbed under the comforter when you got back, his boxers being the only thing he wore. He was checking his phone briefly before looking at you, placing his phone on the side table. You moved to your dresser, grabbing a large t-shirt from the drawer. You didn’t bother with any underwear, climbing into bed and curling up next to Rhett. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders, keeping you close.

“So-”

“I th-” The both of you stopped and giggled. Rhett motioned for you to go first.

“I was just gonna ask what you wanted to talk about.” Rhett nodded, thumb rubbing softly on your skin.

“I want to talk about us.” Rhett was never great with conveying his emotions through words.

“What about us?” You teased. Rhett rolled his eyes.

“About how I want to,” Rhet paused for a moment, “want to be with you.”

“Rhett, you ju-”

“No,” Rhett bite his lower lip, “I want you more than physically. I want to be with you all the time.” You knew what he was asking of you. It was funny to watch him still beat around the bush after everything.

“Rhett, I’m not quite sure what you’re asking me.” You said with a smirk. He rolled his eyes once more, letting out a sigh.

“You really gon’ make m-” Rhett was cut off by you pressing a kiss to his lips.

“Rhett, I want to be with you too.” Rhett smiled as he kissed you again. His arms wrapped around you completely, rolling the two of you over. He peppered you with kisses, happiness spreading over the both of you. Rhett couldn’t be happier with you, happier with his little bookmouse.

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