—TASTE BACK — PART ONE: "MR. AND MRS. MILLER" ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧⋆ ˚｡⋆‧₊˚ (ex!husband joel miller x f!reader) MDNI!!
fic masterlist | read on ao3 | capuccinodollupdates
summary: Three years after a painful divorce, destiny forces you to cross paths with Joel in the paradise of Maui; and at a wedding, of all places. Though you try your hardest to keep your distance and maintain your sanity, old habits and buried desires don't take long to set everything ablaze. wc: 13k
A/N: So, a quick heads up: this one shot somehow evolved into a multi chapter work and it also ended up being way more emotional than I originally planned. Don't get me wrong, you all know how much I love the cheesy romance and the angst. But hey, it’s a fun ride too. Also, just as a gentle content warning, this story briefly alludes to some sensitive themes, specifically pregnancy loss and fertility struggles, though they are never addressed directly. If these topics are triggering for you, please read with care. <3
If you enjoyed it, please leave a comment and reblog! I really appreciate feedback<3
Room 401. You tossed the keycards onto the king sized bed in the center of the room and let your duffel bag slide off your shoulder, thudding onto the carpet by your shoes. You let out a sigh.
Jo and Cillian had truly outdone themselves.
The Ritz-Carlton was a masterpiece of teakwood and volcanic stone nestled along the Wailea coast, and the view was absolutely breathtaking. Massive sliding glass doors revealed everything, from the Pacific stretching out like a deep blue silk shroud in the distance, to an endless line of palm trees swaying in the breeze.
It was an enviable location for anyone wishing for a dream wedding, and if this was your room, you couldn't help but wonder what the newlyweds' suite looked like. High, plush beds with comforters as soft and white as cotton, blue and earth toned accent pillows resting against fluffy inviting pillows, and a delicious clean scent permeating every corner. Opposite the bed sat a delicate console topped with a large TV, and next to it, a small sofa just as pristine white as everything else.
You smiled to yourself and kicked off your shoes; a welcome relief after a ten hour flight. Your lower back ached slightly, the back of your neck was slick with sweat, and a faint headache was beginning to brew. But you were in Maui. Finally.
It was the first time you had left Austin in a very, very long time. God knew you needed it; after so many years cooped up within the same few miles, any escape offered to you was welcome. Besides, you could consider this a reward.
When Jo and Cillian first sent the invitation, you thought they were out of their minds. There was absolutely no way you had the time or the money to jet off for an entire weekend wedding. You were buried under work and had recently taken out a loan just to keep your workshop afloat, so you didn't RSVP right away. You figured the best you could do was send a lovely gift to their address. Perhaps one of those custom armchairs you crafted, the one Jo had loved so much. No, two of them. One for her, and one for him.
Fast forward a few months, and you already had the plane tickets in hand. Business had started doing much, much better, and you had finally gotten your head above water, so you could actually afford a weekend away. Plus, the room was already paid for; how could you possibly say no to that?
You walked toward the sliding glass doors, your bare feet relaxing into the floor as the scenery unveiled itself behind the glass. The wind seemed to be blowing hard, and when you slid the door open, the rush of warm humid air brushed against your neck and cheeks.
The scent of plumeria blossoms was intense, and the sound of the ocean crashing against the black rocks made you smile. You stepped out onto the balcony, feeling the sun warmed wood beneath your feet, and pulled out your phone. It only rang for a few seconds.
"Hey, Dean… Yeah, I just walked into the room," you said, leaning against the railing and closing your eyes to block out the sheer vastness of the paradise in front of you. “It’s unreal, honestly. Jo and Cillian picked the best place on earth… I miss you too. A lot.”
You sighed, catching your breath. Dean’s voice was a bit muffled on the other end.
"Sorry… I can’t hear you very well," you said, pacing from one side of the balcony to the other. Dean asked something. “I think the signal’s terrible out here. Can you hear me?”
You pressed your other hand over your free ear, as if that would actually help. Obviously, it didn't, so you clicked your tongue and frowned.
"I think I’ll call you back in a moment, yeah?" you said, raising your voice for some reason as if that would do the trick. It didn't. "I’ll text you now. I love you."
You pulled the phone away from your face and glanced at the screen. Shit. Okay, no big deal. You’d just send him a text.
Signal is bad here, I'll call you in a bit :) <3
"You gotta head down there, closer to the palm trees, off to the right. Stand right about there, and the boy'll hear you a whole lot better."
The voice came out of nowhere, drifting over from the nearest edge of the balcony. To your right, just on the other side of the dividing wooden partition, was a voice you knew better than your own.
Your heart gave a violent shudder, but you forced yourself not to jump. You turned your head by fractions; the movement felt absurdly careful. None of this was funny.
Joel.
Joel was standing right there, leaning against the railing and peering just slightly around the edge of the wall. He held a glass of water in one hand and his phone in the other.
He turned toward you, his mouth curving into a relaxed smile. He looked exactly the same, yet so, so different. The sun had etched fresh lines around his eyes, and his beard carried more gray than you remembered. His features seemed softened somehow, though they were still just as rugged.
"Joel," you said, your tone far too polite. "I… I had no idea you were staying next door."
“Guess that’s just bad luck,” he replied, a half smile brushing his lips without ever reaching his eyes. "How you been?"
You bit your tongue and your jaw tightened. “Really good. You?”
Really good. Great. Thriving. The best you had been in years. Your business was doing well, you looked good (maybe the best you had ever looked in your life) and every single night you went home to a man who respected you and loved you, but above all, a man who was actually there. Dean.
"Doin' alright myself," he answered, shifting his gaze out toward the horizon, watching the blue ocean and the palm fronds swaying back and forth.
The hair on his forehead drifted with the breeze, and he squinted slightly against the sun. A fine sheen of sweat coated his brow, and the tips of his ears were flushed pink.
Two years. Two whole years had passed since you last laid eyes on him. You had sworn to yourself that it would be the final time, and you had kept that promise. That morning, you slipped out of his bed while he was still fast asleep, leaving absolutely no trace behind. It was the hard stop to a cycle that had once seemed endless.
But that was just how you and Joel were; it was how you had always been. Ever since you crossed paths by pure chance at a bar fifteen years ago. Your eyes had locked with his, he was the one to approach you first, and you spent the entire night tangled up in each other, talking about everything and everyone until the sun came up and he had to head off to work without a single wink of sleep.
Two years of dating, ten years of marriage, and one year of seeing each other off and on post-divorce. Walking away from him had been agonizing; after signing the papers, you ended up in his bed more than once, and he was in yours far more often than you cared to admit. Until that one morning you finally walked out; you left a brief note on his kitchen counter telling him that enough was enough, that you needed to leave this behind, and then you blocked his number and left for good.
Two years had passed since that day. You hadn't seen him since.
You offered a faint smile and nodded, dropping your gaze to the planter beside the window.
"Alright. Uh, see you around," you said, not even waiting to see if he would answer. You immediately stepped back inside the room and slid the glass door shut.
Through the glass, you watched as his hand disappeared from the balcony railing.
Your feet sank into the sand and tiny grains scattered with every step you took.
You had to do something, and fast. Talk to Jo, beg her to swap your room with someone else or pay out of pocket for a completely different one if you had to. You needed to act.
Ever since you ran into Joel two hours ago, your heart had been pounding harder than usual. Tachycardia, maybe; as if he were a massive, undiluted cup of black coffee, far too strong, messing with your anxiety and sending your blood racing through your veins.
You hadn't even called Dean back. There was no earthly way you could speak to him without the emotions tearing through you right now bleeding into the tone of your voice. He would know instantly that something was up, that you were hiding something. And the second you told him it was about Joel, that he was right here, separated by nothing more than a single wall, you knew he would catch the very first flight out to Maui. Because Dean knew everything, or at least almost everything. He knew it had been a brutal divorce, not because you had fought constantly through it, but because it had been so damn painful, like ripping a fingernail straight from the skin. The wound still throbbed.
Right in front of you, the ocean spread out pure and beautiful. The waves crashed against the shore, melting at your feet and soaking you up to your ankles. The hem of your skirt fluttered in the breeze; delicate sheer crimson fabric that draped down to your calves. And the sun blazed with the exact same brightness as your top, a cropped form fitting canary yellow.
You knew it was possible he would be here. You knew Jo and Cillian might invite him. Jo had actually given you a heads up a few months before the invitations went out.
Joel might go, are you comfortable with that?
Of course, absolutely. It's your wedding, I'd hate for you to feel bad about inviting someone just on my account. Just do it, seriously, no drama.
And now he was here, though you had at least held onto the hope that you could avoid each other a bit more. To not run into him at the ceremony, or during the dinner; to stay far enough apart that this could pass without any aftermath. What kind of aftermath, exactly? You weren't worried about arguing with him, nor were you worried about the conversation turning awkward and filled with cruel jabs. That wasn't how you and he operated; it never had been. You were worried about other things, things that were far beyond what you could handle right now.
Suddenly, a woman's voice called your name from a distance.
"Hey, hey!"
You turned around instantly, recognizing it right away and letting the pure excitement wash away every single one of your anxious thoughts.
"Hey!" You started running toward her with your arms wide open, and in your head, cheesy music started playing, like the entire world slipped into a cinematic, frame by frame cadence like those funny montages of people reuniting after a lifetime apart.
Kathani was running toward you with that exact same energy; her hair billowed in soft brown waves, dancing across her shoulders just like her light blue dress. She looked like a fairy.
"Kat!"
Your arms wrapped around her in a breathless embrace. Long months had flown by since you last saw each other, maybe even a whole year.
"You have no idea how happy I am to see you," she said against your shoulder, squeezing you even tighter. "You look so so beautiful, from a distance I honestly thought I spotted an angel!"
"Oh, stop!" You gave her a playful little shake, stepping back a bit to get a better look at her. "What are you talking about? You look absolutely gorgeous."
"We both look gorgeous."
You laughed. "I'll take that."
She offered a warm smile and rested her hands on your shoulders.
"Jesus, how are you? Last month I almost made it out to Austin, but work got in the way and I couldn't go. How is everything back home?" Suddenly, her eyebrows shot up. "Hey, Jo told me Joel might be coming—"
Your eyes went wide as saucers. "Kat, you gotta help me. His room is right next to mine."
"What?"
You nodded quickly. "I swear, please, you have to help me."
"But how? What happened? Like, right next door?"
"Yes. Right next door," you shrugged helplessly. "The second I arrived, I went out onto the balcony to call Dean, and there he was on the balcony right next to mine, which is basically attached. He must have heard the whole conversation!"
Kat smirked. "Oh my God, I bet he absolutely wanted to crawl into a hole and die!"
"Kathani!"
"What?" She shrugged. "You know it’s true. The only reason he even showed up is probably to see you. Since when does Joel take trips like this?"
"I don't know, it's been a while. Maybe he does now."
"Right, now," she rolled her eyes. She let out a breath and studied you for a quiet moment. "I'm sorry. How are you holding up? How do you feel about it?"
How did you feel about it? How did you feel about it… how did you feel about it.
Conflicted.
"I'm fine," you said, turning your gaze back toward the ocean. "I mean… I'll manage." You looked back at her, giving a firm nod. "I'm in Maui. Look at this view, it's gorgeous."
"It really is."
"I don't want Joel overshadowing this."
"Hey," Kat gently touched your arm to catch your eye. "Take a breath. I don't think he's going to try and cross any lines, not after how things ended. And if he does get in your space, I'll get rid of him for you."
You laughed. "Easy there. I just need to pay him no mind and that's it. We'll be spending most of our time out of our rooms anyway."
The sky was a striking blend of pinks and oranges when you made your way down to the beach for dinner. It was paradise; a long, long table was set up right in the center of the open air restaurant, draped in a crisp white tablecloth and adorned with centerpieces crafted from local flora. Servers drifted around, putting the final touches on everything for the rehearsal dinner.
You had headed down early to grab a drink.
Switching rooms was out of the question. Earlier, during the welcome cocktails, you had pulled Jo aside to ask if a swap was possible.
"What do you mean?" she asked. "Why? Is there something wrong with yours?"
A bit flustered, you told her, "It’s right next door to Joel's."
Jo frowned and shook her head. "No way. I specifically told Nora to put you two far apart."
Nora, one of the planners.
Well, long story short: it was a total communication breakdown. Apparently, the phrases they can't be next to each other and they have to be next to each other sound way too similar, or maybe it was bad phone reception, or ambient noise, or who even knows. Nora had purposely booked you in adjoining rooms. And when you saw the look on her face when Jo brought it up (a look of pure wedding-induced panic and stress) you simply threw in the towel.
"It's fine, don't worry about it. I don't want to cause any trouble, it's your wedding."
And it was. You weren't about to demand a new hotel room just because your ex husband happened to be on the other side of the wall. Jo was already stressed enough without having to fix your mess, which, to be completely fair, wasn't even that catastrophic.
Fortunately, Joel had kept his distance during cocktails. He stayed on the periphery, had a drink or two, and then you watched him head out before the mixer even wrapped up.
Now, you were sipping your drink, settled at the bar while smooth music filled your ears and the distant sound of the tides eased your mind.
Bing. Your phone lit up.
[Kat]: emergency meet me in the lobby NOW
[Kat]: hurry before dinner starts I have to tell you something
You frowned and instantly slid off your barstool, taking care not to let your dress tangle around your legs. It was brand new, a light blue shade that perfectly matched the dinner dress code. You had been paying close attention to details like that. You even wore a white flower tucked into your hair right above your ear.
With your drink in hand, sipping from the straw, you walked over to the lobby, and the moment the automatic doors slid open, you spotted Kat standing near the reception desk. Her eyebrows shot up the second she caught sight of you, and she approached with long hurried strides.
She grabbed your arm and pulled you off to the side. You nearly spilled some of your drink but kept the straw securely between your lips.
You knit your brows and took a sip. "Mh—hey, what's goin' on?"
Kat let out a breath. "Have you seen Joel?"
"What? No, why?"
She pressed her lips together tightly and gave a firm nod. "He didn't come alone."
"What?"
"Joel. He didn't come by himself. I just saw him go up the elevator with a woman, and she kissed him."
Your heart did a strange jerky twist that. For some reason, it actually stung.
You swallowed hard, and your eyelids suddenly felt heavy.
"But he was completely by himself during the cocktails."
"I think she arrived later."
Caught completely off guard, you took a step back.
Okay.
What could you even say? Nothing. It wasn't as if you were supposed to feel bad about it anyway; you yourself had been in a wonderful new relationship for several months now. Did you even have a single right to feel even slightly slighted just because he had a girl—
Jesus.
You knit your brows. "Are you absolutely sure it was him?"
"Yeah," she said, crossing her arms. "He didn't spot me, but I definitely saw him. They got out of a car at the entrance and then headed straight for the elevator. She had a suitcase."
"But Jo would have told me. If Joel was bringing a plus one, Jo would have let me know."
"What if it slipped her mind? Or what if she deliberately avoided mentioning it for some reason?"
"Why… why would she do something like that?"
Kat raised her eyebrows and pursed her lips slightly, right on the verge of saying something.
Before she could get a single word out, you cut her off.
"It's fine. I have a plus one too, it's just that Dean couldn't make it," you shrugged. "Joel has every right to bring someone."
"Yeah, but he's staying in the room right next to yours."
Oh. Great. Thank you, Kat.
"You're not being very helpful," you said, crossing your arms.
"I'm sorry," she sighed, tilting her head back slightly. "Look, come sleep in my room tonight, okay?"
"Jesus, Kat," you said, shaking your head, "I think… I think you're blowing this way out of proportion. Joel and I… we're divorced, alright? I have a new life. I don't care if he's with someone else, or if he's right next to my room. I freaked out earlier but," you laughed, "it's no big deal, seriously. I can handle it."
Kat nodded, though you knew it was highly unlikely she believed a single word coming out of your mouth. She knew you entirely too well; she had been right there during that first year after the divorce, watching you go back to Joel again and again, returning and leaving, back and forth. And she had been there when you walked out for good, too; she had comforted you more times than you could count.
"It’s been two years," you made clear. "I’ve moved on, and clearly, so has he."
"Clearly?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "What’s with that tone?"
You scoffed. "Nothing. I know exactly what you’re thinking, okay? But it’s over. Joel is in the past. I have Dean now."
"Okay, I know. But just think about it," she said. "About my room tonigh. My door is always open."
Going for your third glass of wine in less than an hour was definitely not a good sign. But she was loud; her voice was too high pitched and bubbly, and she wouldn't stop chiming in with remarks about every single thing anyone else said. Tiny comments, kind comments, but incredibly grating comments because they simply hammered away at your brain.
She was the polar opposite of you, and for some reason, that left you with a twisted feeling in your chest.
She was twenty five years old. You had never envisioned Joel as the type of guy who would date someone so young, someone so different. You couldn't wrap your head around how that even functioned; had he suddenly changed, turning into someone who now enjoyed things he never used to? Had he transformed into one of those divorced guys in their forties who date girls in their twenties just to feel young and revitalized? He used to make fun of those type of men.
He didn't seem like the man you knew; now he was quiet, chuckling every now and then, bringing his glass to his lips every time she told him "not to be silly" while tapping his shoulder and tilting her head.
But then again, he wasn't the man you knew. Because you didn't know him anymore. People change a lot in two years, and he certainly wasn't your Joel anymore. He had stopped being that a very long time ago.
The only saving grace was that they were seated all the way at the opposite end of the table. You could easily get out of interacting with them, or even looking their way, and that was exactly what you did for the most part.
What was the point of wasting your time on that stuff when one of your closest friends was about to get married? None at all.
So you ate and drank and caught up with your friends, actually having a wonderful time despite your miserable luck. And as the alcohol began to make you feel more loose and upbeat, you couldn't stop laughing at every single story everyone shared. Anecdotes from when she was little, a teenager, and even after heading off to college or starting to date Cillian. Some of them you remembered vividly, because you had been right there.
And the entire time, every now and then, you could feel it. His gaze, locked right onto your profile, burning your skin in a shameless way. You did everything in your power not to look over, to give no hint that you knew exactly what he was doing, and you succeeded through the whole dinner—until Jo's sister launched into that anecdote about the time Jo got locked out of the house and they tried to scramble in through the bathroom window.
While trying to squeeze through, her shorts caught on the window frame, and Jo tumbled to the floor completely bare from the waist down. Her shorts and underwear were left dangling from the window.
Oh Jesus, you remembered it so vividly. It had been so fun. She had come down to open the front door with a towel wrapped around her hips and her eyes were streaming with tears from laughing so hard. And when you went upstairs and saw her poor, sad little torn panties hanging from the frame, you burst out laughing just like you were doing right now.
A wave of pure amusement swept through you, and you threw your head back, covering your mouth as a tiny snort escaped your throat. And then, completely on instinct, your eyes sought him out.
He was watching you, of course, but his lips held a still quiet smile. You suddenly remembered those old days when he would deliberately make you laugh until your stomach ached and you made those funny noises. You used to hate it, you always had, but he would tell you they were sweet and nice, and how much he loved hearing them. You had never understood it. Now, he just smiled in silence, eight seats away from you.
You smoothed over your tight flushed cheeks and dropped your gaze as you picked up your wine glass. You just had to wait a little longer for dinner to wrap up and for the small party to migrate to the other side of the room.
You were doing just fine, weren't you?
A few seconds later, you looked back at him. He wasn't watching you anymore; his eyes were fixed on his wine glass, which he held by the stem with his fingers, tracing the clear glass with his thumb. Then, he let out a long, heavy breath through his nose and brought the glass to his lips, emptying the entire contents in a single swallow.
"We’re getting married tomorrow!"
Jo’s shout was so full of pure joy and laughter as Cillian spun her around the dance floor that your heart truly felt like it expanded and a wave of warmth washed over you.
You watched them from the bar and lifted your phone to snap a photo. Several, actually. You had no idea how many shots you had taken by now.
At some point during the night, just a few minutes ago, Joel and his girlfriend (Jen, according to a whisper from Kat half an hour earlier) had headed out. And because of that, you felt so much lighter and more comfortable in the space.
It was for the best, this whole keeping your distance thing. And honestly, the fact that Joel had brought someone was probably for the best too, since it prevented the two of you from drifting toward each other in any way. Come to think of it, what a shame Dean hadn't come along. Everything would have been so much easier to handle with him here. I mean, you had invited him, and he asked if you were sure. And I mean, at first, you weren't so sure. I mean, what were you even saying? How many drinks had you even had by now?
Dean. Dean, you needed to call him.
Shit, your feet were killing you. So you kicked off your heels as you walked toward the steps leading down to the shore. Leaning against the railing for balance, you unbuckled the delicate straps from around your ankles, dangling the shoes from your fingers a few seconds later as you descended bare footed. You dropped them somewhere there.
Oh, good heavens. The sand felt incredible beneath your bare skin.
You tilted your head back, letting out a deeply relaxed sigh. In front of you, very very far away, the ocean shifted beneath the moonlight, looking exactly like a painting. The sky was completely clear, with a massive perfectly round moon hanging at the absolute peak of the heavens.
Your cheeks were warm and your neck was flushed, but the gentle breeze brushing against your skin cooled your arms, your legs, and your bare back as you strolled toward the water. It was refreshing. The further you wandered, the more the noise of the party faded away, giving your mind a little more room to breathe and your thoughts space to wander.
You really should take advantage of this and call Dean now. But it was probably late. He was bound to be asleep by now; it had to be the middle of the night back home. No, it definitely was. You had checked.
Shit. You left your purse up there.
You turned around to look back at the celebration in the distance and a smile tugged at your lips.
From afar, everything looked so beautiful. The sky was pitch black, but the place looked like a glowing jewelry box filled with tiny people moving in every direction; jumping and laughing, their voices reaching you as soft overlapping sounds, like tiny ant voices.
Jo and Cillian looked so blissfully happy. They were dancing right in the center of the floor, and though you could barely make them out through the crowd, you could still spot them instantly. He had his hands around her waist, holding her close as they moved together. They were so deeply in love, so radiant. You remembered that exact feeling vividly, as if it had been yesterday.
No, it had been thirteen years ago, at a lovely little venue back in Texas. It hadn't been anywhere near as fancy as this, but it had its own unique charm. You remembered the flowers everywhere, the tablecloths as bright as white light, the napkins monogrammed with your initials. You actually still had one tucked away in a small pale pink box. You still held onto so many of those trinkets; entirely too many of them, which you honestly should just throw out. Why keep holding onto them?
You were young when you married Joel. He was young, too. Just two twenty somethings full of goals and dreams.
You were barely twenty one when you first met him, and from that very first moment, you knew it was something special. Something forever, you thought. And two years later, he asked you to marry him. It was a bit of a chaotic mess that ended up turning into something incredibly sweet and beautiful.
It was a rainy night. Joel had taken you out to dinner and scored movie tickets. About Time had just hit theaters and he knew you were dying to see it because you had watched the trailer on Youtube. So you had dinner and then you headed to the cinema. Of course, he hadn't anticipated the ending leaving you so sad, and he had to comfort you in the dark of the theater while you tried to get your sobbing under control. And by the time you walked out, the downpour had gotten even worse.
Huge puddles flooded the streets, and as you walked to the car, you slipped and landed right on your ass. Your clothes were caked in mud, which splashed all over Joel, and a few seconds later when he tried to pull you up, he went down himself. It was so fun; the two of you couldn't stop laughing. Every time you tried to stand up, you just kept sliding around, your outfit ruined and his right along with it. And by the time you finally made it inside the car, you were both an absolute disaster.
You knew that hadn't been his original plan, or at least, you found out later. Joel had set up a beautiful arrangement on his apartment balcony, but the rain completely ruined his plans. And when you finally got back to his place, you looked at him; soaked, dirty, covered in mud, with his hair a mess and his clothes completely unraveled, and you just kissed him.
"We're a mess," you murmured against his teeth as he guided you inside the apartment.
He laughed, and that was when you noticed it; he was incredibly nervous. The way he looked at you was different, and for a second, he almost looked physically ill.
And then, he went for it. He slid his hand into his pocket, and before pulling it back out, he confessed his love to you all over again. He dropped down on one knee.
You had never been happier in your entire life than you were right there, in that tiny apartment, with just the two of you.
Three years later, Joel bought you another ring. According to him, the first one wasn't good enough. You disagreed; you absolutely adored your ring. He had worked so hard to afford it, and it meant the world to you. But he insisted on giving you a new one, something much larger. He was doing well at work by then. So he put together another dinner, one completely uninterrupted by rain, and presented it to you on a perfectly clear night.
But time moves fast, and many years later, those are nothing more than memories.
Maybe you should go for a walk to clear your head.
You let out a breath and turned around to head in the opposite direction—
A sharp gasp caught in your chest, and you froze in your tracks. Your hands immediately flew to your chest.
"Sorry, I'm sorry," he said, holding up a hand. "Didn't mean to scare you, I'm sorry."
You knit your brows, still feeling your heart hammering away.
Joel stood right in front of you, with a worried look on his face. His brows were slightly drawn, his eyes glistened, and his hair drifted in the sea breeze. He wore a white, long sleeved button-down with a few of the top buttons undone, revealing a hint of sun flushed skin at his chest. His cream colored dress pants billowed slightly in the wind.
"I thought you left," you said.
He shook his head. "No. Jen wasn't feelin' well. Just walked her back to the room."
You felt a faint throbbing behind your brows. "Is she alright?"
"Got a headache, is all."
"Oh."
It only took a split second for your eyes to lock onto his, freezing you both in place.
He swallowed hard.
"I didn't know our rooms were gonna be right next to each other," he said.
You paused for a beat.
"Neither did I."
He gave a slight, quiet nod, a heavy, downcast look lingering in his eyes.
"I can ask for a different room tomorrow morning, if you'd like."
You offered a faint smile, though your eyelids felt incredibly heavy.
"Yeah, okay," you said, taking two steps forward and brushing right past him. "Thank you."
As you moved away, Joel tracked you with his gaze. You turned as you passed him, keeping your path along the shoreline in an escape attempt that felt frustratingly drawn out. You could feel his eyes burning into the back of your neck.
"I'm sorry." His voice carried clearly through the moonlight behind you.
You stopped instantly, completely unable to help yourself, and pivoted on the sand to face him.
"I shouldn't have brought her here." He took a step forward.
You gave a single shake of your head. "Joel, it’s fine."
"No, it ain't."
"It really is."
"I can tell it ain't," his brow furrowed.
"Then why did you bring her?"
"I don't know. Seemed like a good idea right up until I got here and saw you."
You huffed a breath. "Is it my fault now?"
"No, no," he rushed to shake his head. "That ain't what I meant at all."
You closed your eyes and ran a hand down your neck. Frustration bathed you as you felt the heavy weight of the alcohol in your veins.
"Joel, just… don't. Please don't," you said, taking two steps back. "It’s fine, it is. You’re with someone else, and so am I. We don't need to be having this kind of conversation, not right now."
It looked as though he was right on the verge of saying something. He parted his lips for a moment, but snapped them shut a second later. He stayed perfectly still, holding you captive under his gaze, because you couldn't bring yourself to do anything but stand there and look right back at him.
"We haven't seen each other in two whole years," he said then, like a tired accusation.
"Joel…"
"You left me a damn post it note."
Your mouth fell open, your chest beginning to rise and fall more rapidly as your breathing turned sudden and shallow. He seemed more worked up now, too.
You couldn't do this.
On pure instinct, you spun around and practically fled. You walked as fast as your feet could push through the sand, breaking away from him.
Behind you, you heard his voice calling out your name, getting closer and closer with every passing second. You only made it a few yards.
He caught you by the arm, and your name spilled from his lips like a breathless sound.
You wrenched yourself free from his grip, spinning around.
"Please, don't do this," you pleaded in a whisper, locking eyes with him. "What'd you want me to do? Just stay there? Watch us keep running in the same damn circles?"
Joel stepped back, taken aback, but his gaze never wavered. His jaw tightened, the wind blowing a stray lock of hair across his forehead.
"Could've said goodbye," he said. "Face to face. We deserved more than a goddamn note left on the table after everythin’ we were"
Your heart squeezed tight.
"You and I could never just say goodbye, Joel. We tried a hundred times. You know exactly how it ended every single time."
Joel closed his eyes for a beat, and you knew the blow had landed right where it hurt.
The silence that followed was absolute. And when he looked back at you, the vulnerability in his glistening eyes made your chest ache.
"If it was that hard..." he started, "then why'd we have to say goodbye in the first place?"
Your lower lip trembled. "Joel... don't."
Your vision blurred completely as tears flooded your eyes, spilling over before you could do anything to stop them.
It was cruel of him to ask you that now. Not when you’d spent two whole years trying to convince yourself you’d made the right choice.
You’re with Dean, you reminded yourself urgently. Dean is at home. You’re happy with him. And you couldn’t forget that Joel had moved on too; his girlfriend was upstairs at the hotel.
Joel fell quiet. He shook his head again and again, like he was trying to rid himself of a thought he couldn’t outrun. His gaze dropped to the sand, fixing on some distant spot before he spoke.
"These past few months, I’ve been lookin’ for a house…" he admitted softly. "Lease on my apartment’s almost up, and I figured maybe it was time for a real home. And every place I walk into, I catch myself lookin’ for big windows, a wide backyard, and some corner with enough light to work without havin' to turn the lamps on in the afternoon."
Then, he looked up, locking those glistening eyes straight onto yours.
"I could buy it," he said quietly. "I make enough now to get a real nice house. But what the hell’s the point of all that money if you ain’t in it? Tell me somethin’… why is your voice still in my head every time I make a decision?"
It took you several seconds just to draw breath.
You swallowed hard, absorbing the bruising impact of his words. You had to forcefully suffocate your own thoughts, the ones screaming that you were completely consumed by him, too. That sometimes, when you were in your shop holding a piece of sandpaper, his voice would appear out of nowhere, reminding you to always go with the grain so you wouldn't ruin the finish. Or that every time your car engine made a strange noise, you’d remember his advice to check the hoses before panicking. His ghost was everywhere.
But you couldn't tell him that. So instead, you said;
"Your girlfriend is upstairs."
You spun around abruptly and took off at a brisk pace, nearly breaking into a run in a desperate attempt to get away. The ocean breeze whipped against your face, but it did nothing to cool your burning cheeks.
Glancing back, you saw him: Joel was gaining on you with long strides, his white shirt billowing in the wind. Tears escaped without control, blurring everything in sight.
You whipped around to face him the moment you felt him too close.
Joel stopped short. His face was twisted with ache, and he stood completely still and quiet for a few seconds. His eyes shone brighter now, welling up with a thin glaze of tears that grew thicker by the second.
"What are we doin'?" he asked then, cracking completely. He stepped a fraction closer, repeating with desperation, "What are we doin'? It was supposed to be us!"
You swallowed hard, feeling a physical pain right in the center of your chest, as if Joel’s words had cut straight through your skin.
You looked at him through the tears that refused to stop falling.
"A lot of things happened, Joel. Did you forget that already?"
He stared at you in silence.
"I needed you!" You confessed.
"You pushed me away, every damn time," he countered.
"I was grieving," you shot back. "I know it was hard sometimes, but I was grieving."
"I was grieving too," Joel snapped. He took a step toward you, desperate to make you hear him. "That was my baby too. And every time I tried to get close to you, you... you just pushed me back, pushed me away like you couldn't stand the sight of me. Like you didn't want me there."
"Of course I wanted you there! You were my husband," you cried out, letting out a shaky, nearly choked breath. You paused, looking at him with all the frustration you’d kept locked away for years. "But where were you? You spent more time out there than you ever did at home."
Joel ran a hand over his face, completely spent, and let out a trembling sigh.
"I was scared," he confessed. "There’d never been anythin’ we couldn’t fix together before. But this... this was bigger than us. Every time I walked through that front door, I felt like I'd failed you. Like I couldn't protect the one thing we wanted most. I was terrified of sayin' the wrong thing, terrified of makin' it worse. And it felt like makin' it worse was the only damn thing I knew how to do."
"So you left," you shot back, pointing at him. "You just kept leaving. You weren’t there." Your voice trembled harder with every word. "You thought no matter how many times you walked away, I’d still be there waiting for you, and that’s not how this works." Your eyes burned as fresh tears spilled over. "I was scared too."
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he said, taking a step forward. "Not a day goes by where I don't think about what I could've done to stop it, to protect us—"
"How could you have stopped it? It wasn't your fault, and it wasn't mine," you whispered. "All those years..." You shook your head. "All those years I felt like a failure for not bein' able to—I tortured myself thinkin' it was only a matter of time before you got tired of me and walked away. And then when it finally..." You shook your head again, refusing to let the memory surface. "The only thing I needed was for you to be there."
"How could I ever get tired of you?" he asked with painful disbelief. He gave a quiet shake of his head. "I told you a hundred times. You were my family. Anything else, we could've gotten through it together. I married you 'cause I wanted you, just you. Kids or no kids, I wanted you."
You stared at him in absolute silence. His words cut right through you, leaving a burning ache in your chest, yet at the same time, they felt like a warm, long overdue embrace around your heart.
Why didn't he say all this back then? Why did he have to wait all this time to lay it all out, right in the dead of night, in the middle of all this?
You froze, the weight of the years crashing down on you, and gave a shake of your head.
Taking a step back into the cool sand, you whispered, "It doesn't matter now."
"It does t—"
"No, it doesn't," you cut him off, your voice hardening. "It's too late. I'm with someone else, and you are too."
"I don't love her."
"Joel."
"What, you wanna pretend we both just moved on?"
"We're divorced," you said, the word tasting like ash in your mouth.
"I never wanted to divorce you and you know it," Joel countered.
You shook your head and then you felt it; panic starting to crowd out the ache.
You had to get out of there. You needed to leave this beach right now, before you broke, before you did something you couldn't take back.
You lunged to the side, trying to bolt past him, but Joel reacted instantly, catching you by the hands. The heat of his touch burned.
In a blind reflex, you slammed your palms against his chest and shoved him back with everything you had, breaking his grip. And you ran.
You ran with your breath clawing at your lungs, fleeing toward the small party. You knew he wouldn't follow you there; Joel would never push his way through your friends to make a scene, or to keep telling you things that shouldn't matter anymore.
When you finally hit the steps leading up from the beach, you spotted your heels tossed in the sand right where you had left them. You didn't even pause to pick them up. You took the stairs barefoot, crossed the room where the music was still thumping, and with trembling hands, snatched your purse off one of the chairs. You headed straight for your room. All around you, everyone was far too drunk to even notice.
You had spent the entire day mastering the art of looking anywhere but at him.
During the morning, it was easy. Mainly because he was nowhere to be seen. You were confined with the other bridesmaids and Jo’s family. In her hotel room, time flew by in a blur of wedding prep. Everyone talked, laughed, and rallied around Jo to soothe her nerves. Good nerves, born from being on the verge of something beautiful and life-changing. Not the bad ones that make you want to bolt out the back door of a church.
During the ceremony, everything shifted. As a bridesmaid, you stood on one side of the altar, while Joel stood on the other as a groomsman. The distance was safe, but it wasn't enough; you felt his eyes on you the entire time.
Whenever you looked toward the newlyweds, Joel caught your peripheral vision, his dark eyes fixed squarely on your face. He didn't break eye contact, not even when the crowd burst into applause. It was constant; even if he turned to smile or speak with someone else, it was only a countdown until his eyes found yours again. And then, the realization hit: you were watching him, too.
Of course you were. If you caught him staring dozens of times, it meant your own eyes were wandering toward him just as often. A simple truth that struck you just as Jo and Cillian walked down the aisle between the rows of seats, everyone celebrating the union of their beautiful love.
You kept your chin up, gripping your bouquet so tightly your knuckles turned white and pretending the heat rushing to your cheeks was just the early afternoon sun. You decided then and there that enough was enough. You couldn't keep looking at him, or he would keep looking at you. Moving forward, the best option was to ignore him entirely.
So you stuck to Kat like glue. You hadn't told her what happened the night before; you hadn't told anyone. Apparently, neither had he (which was to be expected) though you couldn't help but notice how Jen's eyes locked onto you just as much as his did.
There she was, right in the middle of the wedding guests. She wore a faint smile that seemed perfectly natural on her face, but her gaze swept up and down your body, over and over.
As a rational person, you knew exactly why she was doing it. You were her boyfriend’s ex-wife. During dinner the previous night, the two of you hadn't interacted at all. And when you felt her trying to approach you before heading to her room, you had turned on your heel and fled, pretending you hadn't seen her. She probably just wanted to introduce herself; Joel had likely told her the bare minimum. You, however, had zero interest in meeting her.
As a woman, though, you feared a deeper reason. Some energies are impossible to ignore, like the raw tension between her boyfriend and you, standing on opposite sides of that altar like a sick joke. If Jen suspected something, or if she noticed how Joel couldn't keep his eyes off you (and she only needed a functional pair of eyes to see it), you didn't blame her.
You just had to ignore them both. It was easy enough during the ceremony.
But the real trial began at the reception.
By seven in the evening, the Maui sky had transformed into a stunning canvas of coral and purple hues, fading out over the Pacific. On the open air terrace by the beach, the reception was already in full swing, with some guests already on their second drinks. Strings of warm fairy lights flickered between the palm trees, fighting against the encroaching twilight that swallowed the coastline, while the warm breeze carried the tides mixed with the sweet music from the live band.
All around you, everything was pure luxury and charm. The venue was breathtaking, and every detail was exquisite; from the decor near the beach exit to the main dancefloor, the ornaments hanging from the ceiling with tiny crystal stars and delicate ribbons, and the tables arranged with flawless glassware and matching chairs.
You stood near the outdoor bar, laughing out loud as Kat made an exaggerated toast with her champagne flute, while Gemma, Jo’s sister, swept you both into a hilarious anecdote about the morning's chaos. You laughed along despite having been there yourself, then pulled out your phone to show Eric, Gemma’s husband, a video of the whole thing.
Between the tropical cocktails, the catchy music, and the girls banter, you finally felt your shoulders drop; for a wonderful stretch of time, you managed to immerse yourself entirely in the party, genuinely enjoying the moment. And you were incredibly grateful for it.
It was only when the girls drifted toward the dance floor that you found yourself alone, waiting for your next drink. You leaned your weight against the wooden bar and, almost unconsciously, let your eyes sweep across the crowd illuminated by the hanging lights. It was a quick instinctive scan; a final defense mechanism to ensure the perimeter was clear, confirming that neither he nor his girlfriend was nearby before you could fully let your guard down.
You exhaled a quiet sigh, watching your hands against the wooden bar.
"This place ain't got nothin' on our little wedding, right?"
The voice echoed from right behind you. You whipped around.
Joel was there, leaning lazily against the counter, giving you a sidelong glance. He looked effortless cocky, completely relaxed. He looked devastatingly handsome in his suit, though his collar was already unbuttoned and his tie hung loose.
Not again.
"Joel," you warned.
He picked up on the warning right away. His stance softened slightly as he stood up straighter, throwing his hand up in peace.
"Sorry. Just jokin'. Ain't tryin' to stir up trouble again," he said, stepping a bit closer and shaking his head. "Just wanted to say I'm sorry. For last night. I crossed a line. Too many of 'em, to be honest, sayin' what I said. It wasn't right of me."
He cast his gaze downward, looking genuinely remorseful for a brief beat. Right then, under the amber lights, you finally caught the dark tired shadows bruising the skin under his eyes. He looked exhausted.
You didn't say a word, but you nodded slightly, accepting the olive branch.
He looked back up, pinning you with his gaze. "Don't you worry about me, okay? I won't be botherin' you again."
"How sure are you about that?"
Joel offered a smile that didn't make it to his eyes.
"In the last two years, did I ever bother you?"
"I blocked you."
He huffed an incredulous breath through his nose. "No, you didn't."
"Yes, I did."
Joel clicked his tongue, taking a sip of his drink. "Nah."
Your brow furrowed as a prickle of stubborn pride hit your chest. Grabbing your purse from the bar, you reached inside for your phone. Your thumb flicked across the screen as you glared up at him.
"I'm telling you, I blocked you."
He raised the glass to his lips again, and just before taking a sip, his eyes locked onto yours over the rim. "What you wanna bet?"
Anoyed and determined to shut him up, you went into your contact settings and pulled up your blocked list. Your eyes darted across the screen. There were a couple of unknown numbers, some old spam contacts you didn't even remember blocking, but you searched and searched... and the list was far too short. None of them were Joel.
You froze right there in the middle of the party. You knew it with absolute certainty because, despite two years of radio silence, you still remembered every single digit of his number by heart. None of those numbers matched his.
Had you seriously never blocked him?
You sighed, setting your phone face down on the bar.
"Alright." You glanced over in the opposite direction.
Across the room, Kat was staring at you with her eyebrows raised. She threw up a hand as if to say What the hell are you doing?. You answered her with a tight flat pout.
You turned back to Joel; he was watching Kat with a faint half amused frown.
Without moving much, his eyes dropped back down to you.
"Anyway, I'm sorry," he said, nodding gently. "For all of it. I really am."
You just nodded back.
The tension in his brow softened, and his gaze traced your face; eyes, mouth, eyes, eyes, mouth, eyes.
And then, he asked;
"Is he a good man?"
A beat.
"Yeah," you said softly.
"Does he treat you right?"
You swallowed. "Yeah. He does."
He pressed his lips together and nodded. "Good. I'm real happy for you."
The second those words left his mouth, you caught it: the tiniest twitch in his right eye, almost imperceptible. A minute tremor he couldn't hide.
Joel held your gaze for one last second, and then he gave you a small wink, just like he used to. With a faint smile, he pulled himself away from the bar and walked off, disappearing into the crowd.
Dinner passed in a rush of laughter and scattered conversations across the tables. There were emotional speeches; the best man brought Cillian to tears with a childhood story, and when it was your turn alongside the bridesmaids, you managed to keep your voice steady and bring a smile to everyone's faces.
After what had happened the night before, you didn't want to drink too much alcohol; you’d only had a couple of glasses with your meal, keeping your feet firmly on the ground.
By the time dinner wrapped up and the dance floor opened, the vibe grew much more relaxed. The semi-formal atmosphere completely dissolved under the colored lights now washing over the place. You were actually having fun; you danced for a long stretch with Kat and the girls, and later, Jo’s dad pulled you out for a few clumsy but incredibly fun spins that had you laughing out loud. In the middle of one of those upbeat songs, your eyes caught Joel in the center of the floor, dancing perfectly like a gentleman with Cillian’s mom. Your gazes locked for a split second, barely a heartbeat, before you both quickly looked away.
You kept enjoying yourself. Songs flew by, along with casual toasts and group photos. But later on, as you walked near the edge of the room, your eyes drifted toward the back.
Joel and Jen were sitting at a secluded table, away from the main lighting. You allowed yourself to watch them for a moment, hidden behind the crowd. Their faces were dead serious; her brow was furrowed and her arms were crossed, while Joel spoke in a low voice, gesturing faintly with one hand. They looked like they were arguing. Having a quiet argument, at the very least. But before either of them could look up and catch you staring, you broke eye contact and moved to another part of the room.
But the damage was already done.
Suddenly, a wave of absolute desolation hit you like a bucket of ice water. The air around you began to feel heavy, suffocating, and a sharp ache settled right beneath your ribs.
You needed to get out of your own head. Urgently, you pulled your phone from your purse and tried to call Dean. You needed to hear his voice, to remind yourself that you had a real life waiting for you back home, to cling to him like a lifeline. To remember you had something else.
The line rang.
And rang.
And rang. But Dean didn't pick up. You hung up, waited a few seconds, and tried again. Then a third time. Nothing. Just the sound of the voicemail.
You dropped your hand, slipping the phone back into your purse with a mix of frustration and anger, forcing yourself to swallow the lump in your throat.
"Hey, there you are!"
Jo’s cheerful voice snapped you right back to reality. Your friend approached you, her cheeks already flushed from the alcohol, holding her glass at a slight tilt. She was wearing a gorgeous white dress that hit just below her knees, loose and flowing perfectly against her body.
"I've been meanin' to talk to you all night but I've been so busy!" she laughed, running a hand through her hair. "Nobody warned me I’d spend my own wedding just listenin' to the guests!"
You smiled, forcing down the suffocating feeling from a second ago. "Everyone’s gonna want a piece of you today, Jo, it’s your night. But enjoy it; everything is beautiful, and you look even more stunning."
Jo offered a tender smile and threw her arms around you, pulling you into a warm embrace that smelled of her expensive perfume. When she pulled back, she looked at you closely; her smile faltered slightly into a remorseful pout.
"Hey, I am so sorry... I had no idea he was bringin' someone. We gave a plus one to all our main guests and I just didn't think that—"
"Jo, it’s fine. Seriously."
Jo shook her head, frustrated. "No, it’s not fine. The nerve of him. You didn't even bring Dean. I really wish you had."
"I'm telling you, everything is completely fine," you insisted, forcing a bright smile. "I'm having fun, can't you tell?"
Jo tilted her head back a bit, narrowing her eyes to read you, but the pure bliss of her own wedding night made her give in.
"Well, yeah. I guess you are."
Right then, a collective shout erupted from the dance floor. A big group of people was forming a circle, clapping along to the beat and calling for the newlyweds.
You glanced over and gave her a gentle nudge. "I think you're needed over there."
Jo grinned mischievously. "Yeah... and you're coming with me!"
Before you could even protest, she grabbed your arm firmly and dragged you toward the center of the floor, pulling you both right into the middle of the circle. The DJ dropped an absolute classic: Abba’s Dancing Queen. And the energy of the room swept you up completely. It was one of your favorite songs.
Suddenly, there was no room left to dwell on phones that didn't ring or tables hidden in the back of the room. Jo started dancing dramatically in the center, making you genuinely laugh, and you joined right in; jumping, singing the lyrics at the top of your lungs with the rest of the guests, and clapping as others took turns showing off their best moves in the middle. For a few minutes, surrounded by your friends, the music numbed the ache in your chest. You let yourself lose control, floating in the pure fun of the night and the embrace of the people you loved most.
You couldn't tell how much time slipped by, but it had to be at least four or five songs. Standing in the middle of the circle, you ran your hands through your hair to push it away from your face. It was boiling hot inside, or maybe it was just your racing pulse making you feel like the air was running out.
Stepping away from the group, you backed up a few paces with a permanent smile straining your lips after minutes of non stop laughing.
You glanced to the side, right where the exit to the outdoor grounds opened up, and the pull of the fresh air was immediate and far too tempting to ignore. You walked in that direction, leaving the pounding thud of the music behind, and stepped out into the night, heading down the short flight of stairs to the lower level.
Resting your hand on the wooden railing, you walked down the ramp toward the right, keeping your eyes fixed on the dark infinity of the ocean, where the crests of the waves glowed faintly under the moonlight.
You stopped, letting out a long heavy sigh and running a hand over your neck to catch the cooling breeze.
Look at this place, you’d barely even enjoyed it. With all the wedding chaos and everything else, you hadn't found any free time to look around. But tomorrow you could; after brunch, the afternoon was open for everyone, and you assumed the evening would be too. Jo and Cillian would have their own activities as newlyweds, and some guests were leaving due to work; most of them, actually. But you were staying until Monday afternoon, and so was Kat. You’d be able to do all sorts of fun things. That thought actually made you excited.
You decided to turn around to watch the party from a distance, but the instant you shifted your body, the air caught in your throat.
You saw him. Joel was standing right there, less than two meters away. He was leaning his hip against the railing on the other side, staying completely still, almost camouflaged by the shadows and the branches of a large bush covered in tiny pink and white flowers. He was staring right at you.
A spike of panic shot through your body. You wanted to speak; you wanted to tell him you were sorry, that you had no idea he was down here. Because it was obvious you had crashed his alone time.
Your brain went on the defensive, screaming at you to turn around, head straight back up the ramp, and return to the party or at least find another corner of the hotel to breathe. But your feet wouldn't cooperate.
You couldn't say a word, and you couldn't move. You just stood there, locking eyes with him in absolute silence. You watched him, and he watched you. And in that second of paralysis, Jen's existence didn't even cross your mind; nothing existed outside of that suspended space in the dark.
Before you could gather enough air for another breath, the distance simply… vanished.
He was on top of you, and you were on top of him. You’d never know how it actually happened, who closed the final gap or who took the first step, but suddenly Joel’s arms were wrapping around you and his mouth was crashing onto yours.
It was a devastating kiss, charged with an intensity that shattered your whole body. His hands flew urgently to your face, cupping your cheeks with desperation, while his lips smashed against yours in a hungry claim. Your bodies pressed completely together, erasing any trace of air between you. Not that there was much left to begin with.
Without breaking the kiss, Joel spun you around in a fluid movement, pulling you right to where he’d been standing, and pressed you firmly against the railing. You felt the cold wood bite into your back, immediately followed by the overwhelming heat of his body crushing into yours. One of his hands dropped forcefully to your waist, anchoring you to him, reminding every single inch of your skin exactly who owned this memory.
Your heart was racing out of control, hammering so violently against your ribs that you could hear it in your ears, drowning out any coherent thought that dared to surface in your mind. There was no Dean, no past, no mistakes. In that dark corner beneath the flowers and facing the sea, you couldn't think about absolutely anything else but him.
Kiss him; kiss him deeply. Deeper, devouring any shred of doubt that might be left in you.
You felt a blind desperation flood your veins, a voracious hunger you didn't even know you had been harboring, suddenly demanding more, and more, and all of him; all, all at once, all began happening far too fast, as though time had accelerated with no way to force it back into its natural rhythm.
The heat of his skin and the firmness of his hands clouded your judgment entirely, pushing you right to the edge.
In a sudden move, you forced your lips to break away from his. You pulled back just a few inches, just enough to look into his eyes in the dim light, your breath ragged and your heart thumping in your ears and between your thighs.
You didn't even recognize your own voice when you said;
"Go to my room in ten minutes."
Before he could react or utter a single word, you planted your hands on his shoulders and, with a push that was sharp from urgency but soft with desire, you broke free from his grip.
You caught one last glimpse of his stunned expression and bolted back toward the stairs, fleeing at a frantic pace toward the light and noise of the party, with the taste of Joel still burning your lips and your tongue.
You reached the room with your heart beating a mile a minute, your racing pulse thumping in your ears as you walked barefoot across the soft carpet.
God, what were you doing?
This was terrible, complete madness. You’d walked in barely five minutes ago, and you’d spent the last three leaning over the sink, splashing cold water on your face and staring into the mirror, desperately searching for the strength to put on the brakes. But you found nothing. Your mind threw out a thousand reasons to stop, but not a single one could douse the fire in your belly or prevent what you were about to do.
And then, the sound came: knock, knock, knock.
A violent jolt shook your stomach, filling it with wild butterflies as if you were twenty one years old all over again, and you hated with all your soul that that was your very first thought.
You took a deep breath, smoothing your hands down the fabric of your dress, and stepped toward the entrance.
You opened the door just a crack, peeking through the narrow opening, and Joel was on the other side, staring dead at you through the small space. There was no doubt in his eyes; only a tired, exhausted, desperate, and silent hunger.
Without uttering a single word, unable to break eye contact, you threw the door wide open. Joel stepped inside immediately and kicked the wood shut behind him, closing it with a soft thud that sealed the deal. He lunged toward you with firm strides, crowding you back into the room; his right hand caught your waist and, with a yank, flushed your body right against his hard frame, while his other hand flew straight to the back of your neck, burying itself in your hair.
He kissed you, and you melted into his arms instantly.
Joel crushed you against him, devouring your mouth while his fingers raked over you in pure desperation. His hand at the back of your neck forced you deeper into the kiss, while his other palm slid firmly down your back, tracing your curves until it anchored at your thighs, squeezing the firm flesh. You put your hands all over him, starved for the physical contact you had missed for so long; your palms slid over his jacket, up his chest and broad shoulders, before wrapping around his neck to drag him even tighter against you. You let out a muffled moan against his lips.
Joel broke away for a split second just to catch his breath, panting, and his hands immediately dropped to your dress. Finding the hem near your hips, he bunched the fabric up in a frantic rush, gathering it past your navel before yanking it over your arms in a clumsy anxious motion, tossing it to the floor. You were left in just your panties and strapless bra.
You trapped his lips again in a hungry kiss while his fingers fumbled for the clasp of your bra; the lace gave way and dropped to your feet, leaving your breasts completely bare. Urgently, you brought your hands to Joel’s chest, tearing at the buttons of his shirt with fingers clumsy from the rush. In one continuous motion, you stripped the shirt and jacket off his shoulders together, leaving him bare chested, and he immediately reached down to undo his dress pants.
Everything grew overwhelmingly intense all at once; you could feel every part of your body screaming, starving and desperate for him. You crawled backward and laid down in the middle of the bed, feeling the cool air of the room hit your bare breasts and send a sudden shiver straight to your nipples. You settled onto the sheets, watching him with ragged breaths as he kicked off his pants and boxers in one quick motion.
Joel’s desperate erection, massive and rock hard, pointed straight at you, glistening faintly with pre cum under the dim glow of the lamp. He crowded over you, sliding between your thighs, while his large hands hooked into your panties and stripping them down your legs with a rough tug.
You parted your legs completely for him, exposing yourself, and Joel let out a shaky exhale, and leaned down to kiss you again. It felt like coming home.
His tongue clashed against yours in an incredibly wet, deep kiss while you instinctively arched your hips upward, feeling the heat of his shaft grazing your entrance. Joel ripped his mouth away, panting; he brought his hand to his lips, spitting a generous amount of saliva directly into his palm, and locked his eyes onto yours with animal intensity as he reached down and stroked himself a few times, lubricating his cock.
You moaned in protest at the delay, your hands raking over his tense shoulders as you shifted your pelvis desperately, begging for the contact. Joel dropped his hand and repositioned the hot, swollen head of his cock right against your soaking entrance.
He hovered over you, his arms rigid and the muscles of his back bulging from the sheer effort of holding back. Then, he began to sink into you inch by inch, the desperate restraint making him gasp out loud. He was too thick, too massive, but your pussy was so incredibly wet that it yielded, stretching to harbor him completely as he pushed deeper and deeper.
A sharp cry tore from your throat when he filled you to the brim, the delicious, scorching pressure of his hardness stretching your walls. Joel pressed his forehead against yours, cursing under his breath, completely overwhelmed by how fucking tight and wet you were.
"You have no idea how much I've missed you," he growled against your ear, losing the last shred of control he had left.
Any remaining restraint shattered into a dirty, animal need. Joel began to fuck you with wild desperation, thrusting hard and deep, burying himself completely inside you with heavy strokes that made the bed creak. Your body was burning with pleasure, and so was his; he was slick with sweat, the heat of his skin plastering against yours with every single hit.
You wrapped your legs around his hips, squeezing him tight to lock him inside you, forcing him to go even deeper. He was flush against you, his chest heaving against yours, his lips finding your neck to bite and suck the skin there while your brain remembered every single one of these familiar sensations. It was overwhelming.
The sound in the room turned completely obscene: the loud, wet friction of your bodies colliding, the echo of your unhinged moans, and Joel’s raspy grunts vibrating in the dim light. You were so fucking wet that every thrust made a slick, dirty squelch that only fueled the filthiness of it all and drove your heart rate higher. He was so fucking hard you could feel the pulse of his cock slamming against your deepest spot, tearing you apart with pleasure in an intense friction that made you lose your mind.
Joel grabbed your hands, interlocking his fingers tightly with yours against the pillows, using you as an anchor to drive the pace even faster. He was losing it right along with you, driving into you as if he were trying to brand you forever—no, he had already done that, so deeply that even now, fifteen years later, you were still a fool for him.
He squeezed your trapped hands while keeping up the frantic pace, the relentless impact of his hips against yours unyielding. He was completely surrendered to the desperation, searching for you at your very core. And you were already there, right at the bottom.
Then, Joel let go of one of your hands. That sudden freedom let you react; you whipped your arm up, tangling your fingers into the short hair at the nape of his neck to drag him down. You sought his mouth, trapping his lips in a desperate kiss that he met instantly, and a muffled groan vibrated in your throat. And in that exact heartbeat, something in the air shifted.
Joel’s wild, frantic thrusts began to lose their frantic speed, but none of their intensity. His movements grew heavier, deeply concentrated and profound, stripping away the raw animal haste to make way for absolute surrender. The rhythm transformed into an overwhelmingly intimate friction; each time his body sank into yours, he did so with an agonizing drag, holding himself deep inside you for an eternal second before pulling back just enough to drive right back in.
He stared dead into your eyes through the dimness of the room, his heavy breath crashing against your cheeks, searching for your gaze. His free hand came up to your face, tracing your cheekbone with his thumb while he penetrated you with a gentleness that made you arch your back, completely defenseless against him. You felt every single inch of his cock sliding inside you, hot and massive, filling not just your body, but every empty corner you had kept guarded during these two years.
And his body was so close to yours that you could feel the frantic hammering of his heart melting right into your own. Your moans shifted, turning from unhinged cries into quiet, breathless sobs of pure pleasure and relief.
The tension began to build in your belly in an unbearable way, a burning tide tightening your muscles from the inside out. Joel noticed; he felt you start to spasm and contract around his cock, trapping him in a hot soaking fist.
"That's it, baby... let it go," he murmured, licking your neck.
You couldn't hold it back any longer. Your hips lifted in one final unconscious spasm and your orgasm hit you like a lightning strike, making you shudder from head to toe as your inner walls squeezed around his shaft in violent, delicious waves. Joel let out a low, animal grunt, completely broken by the tight pressure of your climax.
Stripping away any remaining gentleness, he buried himself inside you one last few times with brutal thrusts, sinking right to the root, and froze there. His body went completely rigid, the muscles in his arms and back locking up like stone as he tore a raspy groan right against your ear.
Instantly, you felt the thick scalding jets of his come blasting inside of you, filling you to the brim and overflowing from your soaking pussy as he came with a force that left him shuddering violently on top of you.
Joel collapsed over you, letting his weight settle onto your body without crushing you, his breath ragged and his face buried deep in the crook of your neck.
Neither of you moved; he stayed buried inside you, softening but still pulsing, as the silence of the room settled back in, broken only by your exhausted gasps and the distant echo of the ocean outside the window.
Tonight I was supposed to work on an art project for work and take a deep hair washing shower before bed. ADHD/period brain told me to brain rot on TikTok and cry over pet loss videos (fuck you algorithm!) which led me to crying over pics of my fur baby who passed a few years ago and now I have a sinus migraine.
So I’m curled up in bed with my heating pad, Mandalorian playing and reading fic
Tonight is not a productive night but it’s become a self soothing night
summary: one year later... and life's better than ever.
pairing: harry castillo x fem!reader
content warning(s): fluff, one year time jump, stevie being the best big sister, no use of y/n.
word count: 2.6k
a/n: Y'ALL!!! huge thank you to everyone for reading this story. i really didn't expect so many people to love it and i truly didn't think it would have lasted this many chapters. it's so bittersweet to say goodbye to this story and this family that i created, but... who knows? maybe there might be a drabble or two in the future. we'll see! love y'all and enjoy the final part of then came you. <33
part 29. | series masterlist.
One year later…
Harry was sitting on the carpeted floor of the living room with Frankie on his lap as he leaned forward to give Frankie raspberry kisses on her cheek and neck, her giggles filtering the room. He smiled to himself and leaned back, eyes widening and lips parting playfully as she reached out to touch his face.
“Dada!” She giggled again, gently trying to push him away.
“You’re an early riser like daddy, aren't you?” He teased, pulling back to look at her as he rested her against his knees. “Stevie and mama like their sleep.”
She stared at him and smiled, her small hands touching his cheeks. “Mama?”
“Yeah, mama,” he smiled. “Can you say Stevie?”
She tilted her head. “S—Sissy!”
“Close enough,” he smiled, pulling her gently to his chest as he stood from the floor. Harry looked around and smiled, keeping Frankie against him. They moved out of the penthouse a few months after Frankie was born, finding a smaller two-story home in a much safer neighborhood.
As he walked towards the kitchen to make a pot of coffee, Harry heard the quiet patter of feet coming from down the hallway. Within a few seconds, he saw Stevie round the corner with her hair in complete disarray as she rubbed her eyes sleepily.
“Morning, Stevie girl,” Harry said, keeping Frankie propped up against him with one arm as he kneeled down to pick Stevie up with his other arm. “You look like you had a good sleep.”
“I did,” she yawned, resting against his shoulder as she opened her eyes to look across to see Frankie. She grinned immediately and reached out to touch her younger sister’s cheek. “Hi, Frankie.”
“Sissy,” she smiled.
Stevie’s eyes lit up.
Harry smiled, looking between both his girls with loving eyes. “Alright, what are we thinking for breakfast?”
“Pancakes,” Stevie answered. “Right, Frankie?”
Frankie nodded excitedly, lifting her head from Harry’s shoulder.
“Pancakes,” Stevie repeated.
“Whatever my girls want,” he smiled. “They’re gonna get.”
“Can I help, daddy?”
“Of course, Stevie girl,” Harry answered, turning his head to kiss the crown of her head. “Go and get your apron while I put Frankie in her high chair.” He continued, setting Stevie down on her feet. He set Frankie down in her high chair and positioned it so that she could watch both him and Stevie make pancakes, while Stevie jogged to the pantry to retrieve her apron and stool so that she could reach the kitchen counter.
“Okay, you comfortable, Frankie?” Harry asked, making sure she was buckled into the high chair before lowering the tray to secure her.
Frankie flashed a smile. “Ya!”
He chuckled and leaned down to kiss her forehead. “Cutie.”
Frankie giggled, then looked over to see Stevie putting her tangled hair into a hair tie. Harry looked over his shoulder and smiled, walking over to her. “You don’t want to brush your hair, honey?”
“No,” Stevie answered. “This is fine!”
“Hmm… you know mama’s gonna wake up and bring out a brush for you if she sees that your hair isn’t brushed,” Harry smiled, tapping the tip of her nose with his finger.
“But it’s fine,” she sighed. “Can you brush it then? While I make the pancakes?”
“Oh, you’re gonna make the pancakes, huh?” Harry chuckled.
“Duh,” she giggled. “But you can make the bacon. It splashes sometimes.”
“You’re lucky you’re cute,” he smiled. “Let me go get that brush. Don’t start without me or else you’re going to make a mess.”
“I never make a mess!” Stevie giggled.
Frankie kicked her feet and giggled too.
“See, Frankie agrees.”
Harry laughed, looking between both Frankie and Stevie. “I’m outnumbered… but fine. You girls have me wrapped around your fingers.”
Stevie smiled.
Frankie grinned.
“I’ll be back,” he said. “Stevie girl, I mean it though, don’t start yet, okay?”
“Okay, daddy,” she nodded.
Harry left the kitchen briefly to walk towards Stevie’s room as he heard her start talking to Frankie, who erupted in giggles. Their laughter echoed throughout the home and down the hallway, a large grin lining his lips.
Stevie was holding onto Frankie’s hand while Harry was holding the tray of food that both he and Stevie made. The three of them were walking down the hallway to surprise you with breakfast in bed and he glanced over his shoulder to see both his girls giggling to each other.
Quietly, Harry opened the door with his foot to see you sit up with a quiet yawn, your hands coming up to rub your eyes like Stevie had done that morning too.
“Mama!” Frankie said first, squeezing Stevie’s hand as she tried to walk a bit faster, though her steps were still a bit wobbly.
You smiled instantly, eyes fluttering open to see Harry with a tray of food followed by your two girls trailing behind him.
“What’s this?”
“The girls wanted to have breakfast in bed,” Harry smiled, setting the tray down on the nightstand and leaning over to peck your lips.
“We helped with pancakes,” Stevie said, helping Frankie onto the bed carefully before she climbed onto it too. Frankie quickly crawled over to you, a quiet giggle escaping her lips once you scooped her into your arms.
“Ooh, I love when you make pancakes, baby,” you replied, using your free hand to cup her cheek gently. “Did daddy help?”
“Help? I made it,” Harry said teasingly. “Stevie helped.”
Stevie giggled and felt him pull her onto his lap as he sat down next to you on the bed. “I think we both made it,” she corrected, curling in his arms as she glanced over at the tray of food.
Harry laughed to himself and gently tickled Stevie’s sides, her laughter filtering the room and Frankie joining in now too despite not her understanding why she was laughing.
You grinned to yourself, leaning against Harry’s side. “Ah, so a team effort,” you said.
“Exactly! Team effort, daddy,” Stevie grinned. “Now, can we eat?”
“Yeah, Stevie girl,” he chuckled, reaching over to grab the tray to set it on the bed in front of the four of you. You reached for the cup of coffee first, taking a careful sip of it as you looked over at him.
“Morning,” you whispered.
“Morning, baby,” Harry smiled, leaning in to peck your lips. “Sleep okay?”
You nodded, turning your attention to the pancakes as Frankie began reaching for it. “Okay, baby,” you said. “Careful now. We don’t want syrup getting on the sheets.”
Frankie looked up at you and tilted her head. “Mama…” She was a spitting image of Harry—dark hair with slight curls and deep brown eyes too. When she grinned, there was a subtle dimple on her cheek as well.
Stevie cut up a piece of a pancake and dipped it in the syrup before she brought it Frankie’s lips. “Here, Frankie,” she said softly. When Frankie leaned forward to take the pancake from the fork, Stevie carefully cupped her chin to make sure that nothing spilled.
Then, she turned to look up at Harry. “See, I’m careful. I don’t make a mess.”
“You’re sassy today,” he teased, gently tickling her sides as she squirmed against him.
You laughed to yourself and watched Stevie and Harry, biting your lower lip. There had been a part of you that wondered how their relationship would shift now that Frankie was born, but nothing changed. If anything, they just got closer.
“I was thinking,” you began, taking a piece of bacon and lifting it to your lips. “We could go to the park today.”
Stevie’s eyes widened excitedly. “Can we?!”
Frankie was focused on the pancake as you handed her a smaller piece for her to hold. She was grinning to herself as she took careful bites, leaning back against you. You looked down at her briefly and smiled, kissing her cheek before turning your attention to Harry and Stevie who were sitting next to you.
“I think that sounds like a good plan,” Harry said. “Then maybe… we can go get ice cream at Central Park.”
You smiled to yourself. “Maybe there might be music too.”
Stevie nodded, eating carefully as well. She reached for her cup of orange juice and took a sip of it before setting it back on the tray. “And daddy will keep his eyes to himself.”
You let out a snort and looked over at Harry.
His eyes widened. “Hey! I was not watching the two of you that afternoon…”
You laughed quietly. “I think you were, baby.”
“You guys were just… there,” he reasoned. “I was listening to the busker and you guys just so happened to be there too.”
Stevie giggled, looking over at you before she turned her focus on eating.
“Best day of my life, though,” Harry continued, looking over at you and smiled to himself. He watched you look down at Frankie, the young girl lifting her small pancake to your lips to offer you a bite, which you took a small bit of it.
“It was?” Stevie asked, looking up at him.
“One of the best days of my life,” he corrected. “Because it gave me you guys, gave me all of this,” he smiled.
Stevie grinned and leaned up to kiss his cheek. “I love you, daddy.”
“Love you too, Stevie girl,” he said, grabbing a napkin to wipe at the corner of her lips. “My messy girl.”
“Okay… maybe I do make a mess sometimes,” she smiled.
“Hmm, sometimes, okay,” he teased.
“Dada!” Frankie giggled, holding up the same piece of pancake over to him.
“Oh, you want to share with daddy too?” He smiled, leaning over to take a small bite. “You’re so sweet,” he said, gently kissing her forehead.
“After breakfast,” you said, “We’ll get ready for the park.”
“And daddy brushed my hair,” Stevie pointed out. “So, I don’t need to brush it again.”
“Yes, you do,” you laughed quietly.
“But why?”
“Because, baby,” you said, reaching over to cup her cheek. “How about I braid it, hm? That way, it won’t get tangled so easily when you play at the park.”
“Can daddy braid it?” Stevie asked.
Harry grinned. “Yes, I can,” he answered. “I’ve gotten better. I’ve practiced.”
“Yes, on me,” you smiled. “He is getting better.” You gently set Frankie down on the bed next to Stevie as you leaned over to peck Harry’s lips.
“I love you,” you whispered.
Harry smiled, hand coming up to your cheek as both your girls were eating amongst themselves.
“I love you too, baby,” he whispered.
Later that night, Harry had managed to get both girls to sleep rather quickly. The day at the park tiring them both out. Stevie was already fast asleep in her room after Harry had sung her to sleep and Frankie finally was asleep in her crib in her own room too.
As he walked back into the main bedroom, he noticed the bathroom door open to see you standing in front of the sink with a towel in hand after you finished washing your face. Smiling to himself, he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the doorframe of the bathroom. “What do you think of a honeymoon, baby?”
“A honeymoon?”
“Yeah, belated honeymoon at least,” he answered. “We never got the chance to take one after we got married.”
“Where were you thinking?”
“Wherever you want,” he said, walking over to you and wrapping his arms around you from behind. Harry stared at you through the mirror, turning his head to kiss your cheek. “We can go to Europe. We can go to Asia. We can go anywhere.”
“Anywhere?”
He nodded.
“Hawaii,” you said. “I’ve always wanted to go to Hawaii.”
He smiled. “Hawaii it is,” he said. “I was hoping you’d choose a place where you can walk around in your bikini.”
You rolled your eyes playfully before reaching for something on the counter. Then, you slowly lifted it for him to see.
“Guess we should go sometime soon then,” you said. “Before I get too big.”
Harry’s eyes widened slightly. He pulled away from you to look at the pregnancy test that you lifted to his view. “You’re pregnant?”
“Took a couple of tests,” you answered, a small smile lining your lips. “All positive.”
“You’re pregnant,” he repeated. “We’re gonna have another baby?”
“Yeah, Harry,” you laughed quietly, hands cupping his cheeks gently as you leaned in to peck his lips. “We’re gonna have another baby.”
Harry’s smile grew as he wrapped his arms around you and lifted you gently off your feet. “I love you,” he whispered. “I love you so fucking much.”
“Yeah,” you smiled. “I know you do… it’s why I’m pregnant again,” you teased. “But I love you too, Harry.” You felt his lips move to your neck, feeling his stubble brush against your skin, causing you to erupt in a fit of laughter. He held you closer and smiled to himself.
His house had been quiet and empty.
But since marrying you, it had not only been filled with so much love, but also with so much laughter.
He pulled back to look down at you, hand coming up to rest on your cheek lightly. Harry ran his thumb across your jawline. “So, Hawaii…”
“Hawaii,” you nodded.
“And then another baby,” he said.
“Guess Charlotte was right,” you smiled.
Harry grinned. “Yeah, guess so.”
“We’re gonna have a shit ton of kids,” you laughed quietly.
“Well, that was the plan all along anyway,” he replied, leaning down to peck your lips. “I love you,” Harry repeated. “Thank you for giving me everything I ever dreamt of,” he whispered.
“You’re unreal,” you teased, referring back to what you two would say to each other in the beginning of the relationship. You moved to wrap your arms around his neck as you leaned in to lightly peck his lips. “And thank you for giving me everything I ever wished for.”
Harry smiled, lifting you off your feet once more and taking you towards the bed. “Kids are asleep…” he said, gently setting you onto your back as he settled himself between your legs. “Thinking we can celebrate the good news.”
“Celebrating is what got us the good news,” you laughed quietly, running your hands through his hair as you felt his hands run along your legs and up towards the waistband of your shorts.
He hummed, resting his forehead against your own. “Well, guess we’re celebrating again then.”
You laughed quietly as his hands moved underneath your shirt to touch your bare skin as Harry’s lips moved to the side of your neck.
“Just can’t get enough of you,” he mumbled.
You smiled, eyes falling shut as you wrapped your arms around him. “Can never get enough of you too, Mr. Castillo.”
Harry lifted his head to look down at you. “Oh, Mrs. Castillo,” he grinned. “You know I love it when you call me that.”
You slowly rolled him over onto his back as you straddled his waist, hands moving to rest on his chest. “Oh, I know,” you chuckled.
Harry moved a hand to your tummy and smiled to himself, sitting up as his other hand wrapped around your waist. “Dream come true,” he whispered.
Then, he leaned in and pressed his lips firmly against your own.
Everything in his life made sense now.
You and Stevie were the missing pieces that he didn’t realize he needed.
And this growing family he was going to share with you really was something he always dreamt of having.
TLOU Coffee Shop AU — Joel Miller didn't think much of those fancy coffee places that sprouted up everywhere until one morning he forgot his travel mug at home and the dire outlook of a day without coffee lead him to brave the world of a coffee shop. Maybe one of his better choices!
Warnings:
+18 – mdni; smut, fluff, piv, semi-public, spit kink (if you squint), oral, reader is a brat, older!Joel, younger!reader, alternating POVs
Word count: ~7k
as found on: archiveofourown
a/n – y'all I haven't used tumblr in a hot second but wanted to come here with my fics too bc why tf not? so hi!! I'm chaos or c and hope y'all enjoy this as much as I did writing it <3 (in the meantime I'll work on rmr how to work this site lmfao)
Joel.
He’s running late. And Joel’s never running late. But today he is. Damn alarm clock gave out on him. Or maybe he’d just forgotten to check if the damn thing was set like he did every night… Either way, now he was fucking late. Had to rush through his morning and as a result—- left his travel mug on the fucking kitchen counter.
There was contemplation to go back and get it, because starting a day without his caffein hit, was evidently worse than being late. He still opted against it, already more than halfway to the construction site by the time he had made up his mind.
But then he passed the small coffee shop another five minutes later. The same one he had passed for the last two weeks and never thought twice about stopping. Because Joel didn’t believe in all this fancy shit. With artificial flavours and a hundred-and-three ways to make coffee. He just wanted plain coffee, strong preferably, the kind he could easily make at home. So he had no reason to stop at Pour Decisions — that fucking name alone; but he’d left left his mug on the fucking counter and he needed caffein. So with an irritated grunt at his own damn choices that had led him here, he pulled into the almost deserted parking lot in front of the small coffee shop.
A bell chimed overhead when he opened the door, bracing himself for an onslaught of that modern industrial architecture the whole fucking food industry seemed to be after, just to find a lack of a clear design all together.
A mix of mismatched chairs and tables, a couple of surprisingly comfortable looking couches. No brick walls, instead there were two massive bookshelves in an L-shape lining the wall, and plants fucking everywhere.
Had he set foot into a café or…?
“Good morning,” a warm voice greeted him while he still tried to find the theme of the decor. The first thing he noticed was your smile, not that fake costumer service one, no, a genuine smile. The kind that made your eyes sparkle. “What can I get for you?”
“You ain’t from around here,” he blurted out instead of an order or a greeting.
“No shit,” you laughed, “What gave it away cowboy? The lack of an accent?”
“Ain’t a cowboy,” he huffed. He’d come in here for a much needed coffee and not a round of small-talk. What the fuck was he doing? God he felt out of place here. Yesterday’s dust still clinging to his clothes—- the name definitely did fit. Pour decisions and all that.
“Sure,” you tilted your head, still flashing him a smile. “Now that we’ve that out of the way, what can I get for you?”
“Coffee.” He should have braved the day on no caffein. Coming in here was definitely the wrong decision.
“Excellent, you happen to be in luck, we sell exactly that.” He really wanted to be irritated by your smart mouth, but didn’t really managed to. You made a point of looking him up and down, wrinkled flannel, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, yesterday’s dust still clinging to his jeans—- could he feel any more out of place? “Let me guess, a triple-upside-down caramel macchiato, cinnamon-dolce instead of vanilla and… with almond milk?”
“What?” Joel blinked, trying to sort the words you’d thrown at him into meaning. “I—,” he hesitated.
“Relax,” you flashed him a grin. “Coffee, drip,” you pushed off of the counter you’d been leaning against, grabbing a large paper cup and fastening a sleeve around it. “I’m going out on a limb here,” you continued, filling the mug with steaming black liquid, “Strong,” he watched you place the lid on top. Your fingers pressing the down on the rim. “No sugar, no milk,” you place the cup in front of him, watching him pull his wallet from his back pocket. “Oh no, it’s on the house. View it as first time costumer bonus.”
“That ain’t sound right? Won’t you get in trouble?”
You snorted, waving him off. “Let me worry about that. Just promise me to come back tomorrow if you liked the blend.”
“I— yeah.” he grabbed the cup, his expression betraying that he wouldn’t come back under any circumstances. “Sure.”
By the time he made it back to his truck, he still tried to comprehend what the fuck had just happened.
Except, that the coffee was good. Really, really good. Better than anything he had had before, if he was honest with himself. So when he got up the next morning, on time, thanks to a replaced alarm clock and checking twice before bed that it in fact had been set, he eyes his travel mug like it had offended him.
His coffee wouldn’t be as good and he had promised to come back if he liked the blend. And Joel Miller was a lot of things but not a man who didn’t keep his word.
At least this time around he felt less awkward when the bell above his head chimed, announcing his arrival. Probably too, because you stood behind the counter again. If anything, the smile on your lips wider, and a tad pleased. “So you liked it,” you greeted him. “Good. We just got the blend from a new, local roastery. I’d sell you a pack, but,” you pop the bubble of your gum, placing a freshly filled cup before him. Same like yesterday. “Then you wouldn’t come back, and where would be the fun in that?”
Joel left, paying for his order this time around and leaving the same amount and then some in the tipping jar, having been too bewildered yesterday to even leave tip. He has a stamp card in his wallet too.
Nine more visits and he’d get another cup on the house.
──────────
You.
He came back. Every single fucking day of the week until Friday. You half expected him to ask you out or for your number at the very least. From how he’d stared at your lips while you talked and the way he’d stammered himself through a conversation.
It took you until Thursday to find out that his name was Joel. Sometimes you wished you wrote names on the cups like Starbucks did, but that wasn’t quite on your mind when you had decided to open pour decisions. The name stemming from literally everyone telling you that it was a terrible idea to open your own coffee shop in a world of Starbucks and Dunkin Donuts and whatever else those fast-food-frenchaises were called over-saturating the market.
And yet here you were. Almost two years in, a handful of good and loyal employees, and surprisingly successful with your chaotic-none-concept. The books in the shelves were your own, or those left by guests in a trade, the plants got bought on occasion, if — and that was a big if, you managed to part with them. The caffee was from small and for the most part local roasteries and the pastries freshly baked by a bakery you had partnered with.
By no means would your café make you a millionaire, but that wasn’t what it was about. You loved what you did and you had enough to live comfortably. By your standards anyway.
Joel hadn’t exactly fit the description of your regular clientele. Looking utterly lost the first time he’d stepped inside. With the stamp card had come the confidence you expected a man like him to carry himself with.
Not arrogant or snobbish, the chunky work boots and flannel shirts didn’t fit that, just sure of himself and his footing. So it had been a little hard not to feel disappointed when he hadn’t asked for your number or a date when he’d been in on Friday. He wasn’t in Saturday, but from your Sam, your barista, you knew that he’d stopped by on Sunday.
‘Your cowboy’s in, looking like he just left Sunday lunch. He cleans up nice. Looked disappointed that you weren’t there.’
You’d only shot back a bunch of eye-roll emojis.
He came back Monday morning, bright and early, 7 AM on the dot, like he had last week. You already have his order ready by the time he stepped to the counter. Another flannel, sleeves rolled up to the elbows, salt-and-pepper hair somewhere between pushed back and and left to it’s own means but begging you to run your fingers through it regardless.
“Knew I would make a regular out of you,” you greeted him.
“Ain’t a regular,” he huffed, pushing dollar bills across the counter and dropping another set into the tipping jar.
“That stamp card begs to differ,” you counter, after adding a fourth crescent moon shaped stamp to the card.
“Just collectin’ another five of ‘em to get my free coffee,” he countered, though the hint of a smile that showed around his eyes told a different story.
“Maybe it’s about time I got you hooked on something else then,” your gum popped and his eyes dropped back to your lips. “You you indulge,” you continue, pushing off the counter and stepping towards the pastry. “Sometimes at least,” you flashed him a smile before turning towards the food display “Let’s see…” you study the layout for a beat, glancing back to Joel who only eyed you curiously. “Yeah.” You settle a moment later, pulling a cinnamon roll from the display before popping it into the small oven you kept behind it. “You know we do sandwiches too,” those you made yourself in the morning. “We even take requests, occasionally,” you pack the cinnamon roll into a small paper container before pushing it towards him too.
He’d already placed enough to cover the pastry and a tip on the counter, apparently not taking another it’s on the house. “Yeah?” He asked, thumb briefly toying with the edge of the box. “How’s that work?”
You flashed him a smile, “Come back tomorrow and tell me the cinnamon roll was spot on and maybe I will tell you.”
And sure, like clockwork, Joel came back on Tuesday. “Donno how you keep pulling’ that, but… you were right about the cinnamon roll.”
“Course I was,” your gum popped, a smug grin on your lips. His coffee already on the counter.
“Alright,” he eyed the sandwich display. An assortment of bagels and bread rolls filled with different kinds of meats, greens and cheeses. “Which one I’m getting?”
“None of those,” you offered without missing a beat and Joel almost look offended by how spot on you were again.
“Fine, what d’you got me pegged for, then?”
You glance at him for a moment, before answering, like it was the most obvious thing, “Cheddar, turkey, no mayo,” your gum popped again, “Mustard instead, not too much greenery. A slice of cucumber perhaps for the crunch, no tomatoes, too soggy. A bit of lettuce. Toasted.”
“Fucking hell.” Right on then.
“Not to brag, but, I’d be burned at the stake during the witch trails.”
“Yeah no shit,” he laughed. Actually laughed.
Come Wednesday, you had both the sandwich and his coffee ready. Only trading the sandwich for another cinnamon roll on Friday, for it being the end of the week and all.
“Looks like you’re almost at your free coffee,” you remark, after sliding the stamp card back towards him.
“What if I want your number instead?”
A grin tucked on your lips. “Get the last stamp then and see if you’ll get it.” As if you hadn’t placed a napkin in the box with the cinnamon roll with your number written on it.
Your phone buzzes some time around noon. You’d just settled into the back of house, ready to tackle shift scheduling for the next two weeks when your phone buzzes and the screen flashes with an unfamiliar number.
‘What type of witchcraft you practice again?’ followed by a simple “Joel.” Just in case, no doubt, you handed your number out to multiple times today.
’The kind that keeps you on your toes ;)’ you shot back, before you add, ‘You better still come in to collect that last stamp though.’ Since he got your number already.
‘Be a terrible regular if I didn’t’ Good, because you’d be really disappointed if he wouldn’t. ‘Gonna have to use it on somethin else now’
──────────
Joel.
The kind that keeps you on your toes.
Yeah right. You did a mighty fine job of that. Guessing his coffee order, what fucking sweet treat he liked, right down to the kind of sandwich he’d order.
And that fucking gum that you kept popping while grinning at him like you’d had him aaaaall figured out. Which apparently you had. His orders anyway. While he made a fool of himself, trying to hold a conversation. The fact that it had taken him three fucking days to ask after your name?
Embarrassing.
He’d still saved you as coffee witch into his phone. Just because.
Texting was a whole lot easier. Perhaps because you weren’t as distracting and he had time to think about his answers. So it’s no surprise you did from pretty much Friday afternoon straight up to Sunday evening.
He learned that you moved here for a relationship that no longer existed some eight years ago after dropping out of college, and stuck around because you’d already started to build yourself a life here. He learned too that you’re a good chunk younger than him. Which, in all honesty, he’d suspected but it still almost got him to stop this — whatever this was right here, right there. But then you looped him back in.
‘Thought of something to cash the card in for yet? Once you’ve collected the last stamp?’ Easy as that. Not even phased by his 52 admission, when you’d asked after his age.
You made it really fucking easy, which should have been scary but Joel couldn’t really bring himself to care. Not when stopping by the coffee shop every morning had, admittedly, become the favourite part of his day.
The only issue, they’d wrapped the site in Friday and his next gig didn’t bring him past pour decisions. He’d considered telling you or asking how long you’d be in to see if he could swing by later.
Joel did neither, naturally, in true fashion of the coffee shops name, this resulted in an early set alarm that sent him utterly deserted parking lot at the crack of dawn. And only when he spotted you inside, among chairs that were still on tables, he realised, he hadn’t checked for the opening hours.
Fuck. Way to make a fool of himself. He was set to get back into his truck, already trying to come up with a time he could come back withoutcutting slack from Tommy for running off when you opened the door. “Joel?” He winced, of course you’d seen him through the large glass windows. “You’re early.”
“Yeah,” a shrug, “I— uhm, we wrapped the site on Friday, new site’s across town…”
“I see,” you snort, which did very little to ease how ridiculous he felt, “And I take it you still wanted to collect that last stamp?” You arch an eyebrow.
“Yeah,” he took the offered out.
“Alright,” you took a step back, holding the door open. “C’mon in then.”
“What? You sure?” Joel asked even as he took a step towards you. “Ain’t wanna cause any trouble?”
“Trouble with whom?” You cocked your head to the side, gum popping.
“Donno,” a shrug. “Your boss?”
Another snort, “Nah, I think she’ll understand.”
“Alright,” he decided, following you inside. “If y’say so.”
“Coffee’s not ready yet though,” you offer, locking the door again. “Won’t take long. You in a rush?”
He was, but he decided that he wasn’t. “Got time,” he heard himself say and the way you beam at him at that, made the looming ordeal of morning traffic and being late easily worth it.
Joel didn’t watch you move about the café and the morning prep for long before he offered help. First in front of the bar, taking the chairs off of the tables, wiping them down and watering the plants and then behind.
“You really do not have to help,” you argue yet again while showing him the setting the coffee beans needed to be ground on.
“’s the least I can do,” after the free food you’d slipped him over the week. No amount of tip he left could make up for the free sandwiches he’d enjoyed.
“You always this stubborn?” You challenge, before disappearing into the back to continue with the sandwiches.
“Funny, comin’ from you,” he’d called after you.
Once the coffee was ground and weighted like you’d shown him, he opted to head to the back too. Deciding that, since he was already here during closing hours, he might as well head into the back of house too. And if only to tell you he was done and what else he could do. Just in time to see you climbing up into a shelf to fish for a pack of cups. Without another thought he’s behind you, “Easy,” he breathed, voice a low rumble, hand raised and hovering inches from the small of your back.
You startled; not having seen him enter with your back turned to him, making you lose your balance and slip. But he was there to catch you, hands immediately grabbing onto your waist and hip to steady you and catch your fall.
“Fuck, sorry, I—” he stammered, trying to apologise but you only burst out laughing, not even attempting to step away from him. So maybe he forgot to loosen his hold you when he joined in too.
“The hell Joel,” you laughed, turning to face him. “You can’t just scare me like that!” You swat at his shoulder, drawing another low chuckle from him.
“Gonna make sure to catch you‘gain when I do,” he breathed into the space between you, voice rough. He hadn’t even realised he’d raised one of his hands to brush a loose curl out of your face until his palm settled against your cheek.
“I’ll hold you to that,” he couldn’t have said if you’d whispered or screamed, because he’d been busy was watching your lips move. But he was acutely aware of your breath hitching and his hand on your waist tightening a little further. He wasn’t thinking, when he closed the gap between you.
Your lips were soft when they met his, tasting finely of coffee and cherries and a hint of mint. That damned gum he’d watched you pop again and again and again.
“—shit,” he stumbled back, “No, I—-” he ran a hand over his jaw, a quiet fuck falling from his lips. He’d wanted to. God he’d wanted to since the first time he’d come in here but not like this. “I’m—- I,” he tried, fumbling for words. Wanting to apologise but also not wanting to.
Because apologising meant that he regretted and he didn’t.
His mind went blank again — running overdrive one moment and blissfully calm the next; when your fingers curled into his flannel shirt and card through the hair at the back of his neck to draw him in close again.
His hand naturally settled on your waist again, bringing your body in flush against his while your lips parted to deepen the kiss.
It was a blur after that. If asked later, he couldn’t recall how you got from kissing or well… down right making out and the next he had you pinned against a wall, your back to his front. Pants shoved down, panties tucked tucked aside and his lips moving against your neck.
He could feel you tense when his cock inched into you. “Holy fuck,” your voice was half a moan, half a whine.
“I know babygirl, I know. It’s a lot to take.” Quite literally. He couldn’t really hide the smugness from his words. Even if his voice more resembled a low groan. One of his fingers slipped lower, from where he easily held your weight. A lack of time and logistics—- if he’d have it his way you’d have already cum and if he would have been of sound mind he wouldn’t have done any of this. Not in the back of the coffee shop, not against the wall, not without protection. But as it were, his thumb rolled over your clit.
“Just like that babygirl. Look at how well you’re taking me,” his voice had turned to rough gravel, strained from both the effort it took not to just fuck you and how gloriously tight you were. “Almost there,” he encouraged you, “Fuck, baby, you feel how tight you’re squeezing me?” His resolve broke the second your hips rolled back into his. Begging him to move.
A hand braced against the wall you’re leaning against, the other arm wrapped around your middle, keeping you pressed against him, Joel started to move. Hard and fast. “Fuck baby, squeezing me so tight,” he groaned against your neck, realising he was about to cum embarrassingly fast. “Touch yourself f’me babygirl.”
And you did, moving a hand off the wall and down, down, down.
If he could think stright he would have made a note of how much more pliable you were like this. No snarky remarks, no clever comments, no smug grins. Just moans and gasps and a tight fucking grip around his cock.
He knew when your fingers rolled over your clit. Could tell by the way you were clenching around him while a moan made it past your lips. Drawing him in deeper. In the end he couldn’t even warn you, let alone try to pull out. Caught in the tidal wave of your orgasm, of your body tensing, of your walls clenching. He cums with a grunt and his teeth scraping against your neck and thick hot ribbons flooding you.
“Fuck,” he groaned against your neck, leaving a kiss where his teeth had just been.
“Yeah,” you breathed, not making a single move to get away from. “I’d say that’s what we just did, but…” you chuckled and Joel grumbled something unintelligible, while hiding his face against your neck. “Well—-” you started out but a melodic sound ringing through the air interrupted you. “And that would be delivery.”
And Joel was still balls deep inside of you.
In the end he made it to the site barely on time. After tucking clothes back into place and all but running out of the café, not even managing to look you in the eyes when you handed him his coffee while the delivery got unloaded tight where you’d just fucked. Not managing more than a “I— yeah, I gotta…” while he’d gestured towards the door. “I’ll…” he’d tried just to stop himself before dipping out the door.
Way to fucking go.
His ears were still tainted pink when he felt his phone buzz in his pocket.
‘Think you forgot to collect your last stamp ;)’ relief fuelled the grin that tucked on his lips. ‘Your sandwich too!’
“The fuck are you grinning into your phone for?” Tommy gave him a side eye, trying to catch a glance of his screen. But Joel was faster, averting it. It was worse enough that he’d pointed out the frequent appearance of the pour choices to go cups. “You got a girl or what?”
“None of ya business,” he huffed.
“Right, right,” Tommy laughed “’n you’re chewing gum since when?”
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You.
‘Crap. Can I pick that up later?’ his reply came a little towards lunch. When you’d retreated into the back, where he’d fucked you, to tackle the daily admin work. Already sore and with him still dripping from you.
‘Tough luck,’ you texted back, along with a picture of you and the half eaten sandwich beside you, ‘I’m taking hostages!’ A heart popped up on the edge of the picture. ‘Will negotiated about the stamp though ;)’
‘Lucky fucking me ;)’ he responded and you knew he was over whatever had him bolting from the café in the morning. He’d been down right awkward, not even managing to look at you, and not to mention the crimson shade his ears had taken on... ‘When d’you get off today?’
‘Well I did this morning’ you shoot back because you can’t help yourself.
‘Yeah walked right into that…’ he was quick to respond.
‘Maybe ;)’ You sent back ‘Three-ish, why?’
‘’You got time after or nah?’ He doesn’t tell you that he full on intends to ditch the site early — Tommy could handle handle the rest, it meant seeing you again.
‘You wanna pick me up, cowboy?’
‘Ain’t no cowboy.’ Followed up by ‘Be there at 3’
It started raining around 2 PM, not the sudden, strong summer downpour accompanied by a thunderstorm that barely brought any relief from the heat but a proper downpour. When 3 PM rolled around, and you were just wrapping up, it was still raining. Turning the coffee shop down right cozy.
Sometimes you liked to imagine what your little heaven would be like if you’d set up somewhere with actual seasons, like Boston or maybe somewhere cozy and isolated, like a small town in Wyoming.
But then you wouldn’t have met Joel, would you?
“She’s back there,” you could hear Sam over the hum of the dishwasher and radio. “’s alright, you can head on back,”
You could make out the sound of his heavy work boots on the tiles behind the bar before he was in the hallway, an expression on his face like he wasn’t sure Sam knew what the two of you had been up to here in the morning and smug about just that.
“You sure’s okay I’m back’re?” He asked, while you tossed your water bottle and wallet into your tote.
“Why wouldn’t it be?” Joel looked unsure, both of a reason and how to properly greet you. All that was missing were the crimson tainted ears and you were right back where you were some eight or nine hours ago. So you rose onto your toes, to draw him into a soft kiss. Joel instantly relaxed. “Made you another one,” you pressed a sandwich into his hand. The bread still slightly warm. “Got your stamp card?”
“Yeah, yeah.” He fumbled for his wallet for a beat, before producing the card from it.
“Good,” you grinned, plucking it from his fingers and heading out front. Joel followed, looking everywhere but at Sam while you added the last crescent moon stamp to the card. “Alright,” you hand it back to him. “You got everything?” You looked over to Sam.
“Yep,” a grin. “See you tomorrow, boss.”
Joel blinked.
“Don’t forget to turn the water off,” you responded, “And make sure you locked up. I don’t wanna hear another story of you tracking here in the middle of the night to make sure the doors are locked.”
“Only happened twice,” Sam grumbled.
“Three times,” you corrected, heading for the door with Joel following you. “See you tomorrow.”
“You t’boss?” Joel asked barely that you’re outside.
“Yeah,” you grinned up at him. “I’m the boss.”
“Why you never…?” He lead you to his truck you’d seen pull into the parking lot countless times now, a hand at the small of your back.
“Because you never asked,” you countered while he opened the passenger door for you. Gum popping. His truck was beat up and clearly used for his job; he had told you he owned a construction business with his brother, but well kept. “And it was kinda funny seeing you all concerned about the potential trouble I could get in for the leeway I’d cut you.”
Joel scoffed, but looking amused when he got into the drivers seat.
“So, what you wanna cash your stamp card in for?” You asked while the engine hummed to life and he pulled into traffic.
“Was thinkin’ dinner?” He glanced at you. “At my place?” He sounded a hint unsure. “You been making me sandwiches’n,” he shrugged, “Wanna treat you. Cook for you.”
“Yeah,” you smiled, “I’d like that.” Joel relaxed, a smile settling onto his lips too.
“Good. Was thinkin’ we grab groceries together?” he asked and you nodded while the city flew past rain-slicked windows.
Getting groceries together felt oddly domestic, right in a way. That your hand easily found his, and tucked him along to the snack isle first. You hadn’t even decided yet what you’d cook but you knew you needed snacks.
“Sour skittles?” He asked, “Thought you’d taste,”
“Says the man with the plain pretzels,” you scoff, a grin tucking on your lips.
“They ain’t plain. Got salt!” He huffed, and you snorted.
“Yeah right,” you rolled your eyes, gum popping. “Plain. ’s what I said.”
“Careful now, babygirl, or’ll give your smart mouth somethin’ better to do.” Your breath hitched and a smug grin tucked at the corners of your lips. “Figured,” he hummed, hand settling on the small of his back as he guided you towards the produce aisle. Once bbq chips had made it into the cart too.
You quickly decided on steak, potatoes and green beans. A bottle of wine got added to the menu too. Before you head to the register, you excuse yourself for a beat. Wanting to grab a new pair of socks. After being on your feet pretty much all day and not really being able to change or freshen up, that was the least you could do.
You find Joel lingering in front of the condoms. “Presumptuous,” your gum popped and his ears turned pink again.
“No I didn’t—- I just,” he fumbled, looking everywhere but at you, clearly flustered.
“Relax,” you laughed, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek, “I’m kidding.”
Joel’s hand found your waist again, keeping you close. “Listen, ‘bout this mornin, I…” he tried. “Normally don’t,” his cheeks were burning too. “’s not somethin’ I do…”
“Joel, if I’d regret what we were up to, you’d know it,” you can feel him relax. “Also,” your eyes drift towards the display, “I’m on birth control and clean, if you’re good too then…” you trail off.
“Am too,” he affirmed, palm still resting on the small of your back. He glanced back to the shelves too, contemplating for a beat, before guiding you towards the registers without grabbing a pack.
“And for the record,” your gum popped again while he followed him back to the car. It was still raining, Joel carried both the groceries and an umbrella he’d had in his truck. “I haven’t invited anyone, back who doesn’t work with me.”
You could see the grin tucking on his lips when he helped you into his truck again after storing the groceries. A dash relieved and a whole lot smug. “‘m honoured,” he breathed into the disappearing space between the two of you before his lips found yours.
His house was gorgeous, he mentioned that he he built it himself when he’d pulled into the driveway. And you don’t mean to snoop, and you don’t, but you still wander through the living room after he excused himself to freshen up.
He’d build a one-story house, wrap-around porch with a swing, the living space took over most of the front of the house, a surprising amount of light and a less surprising amount of wood. The couch looked comfortable but judging from the book resting on the armrest of the recliner, it’s easier to assume that he preferred that over the couch. The space didn’t lack warmth but—- it seemed more functional than anything else.
There was a set of photographs on the mantle above the fireplace, all depicting a little girl. They’re older, dated and they seem to stop. At least there were no more after she looked about thirteen or fourteen.
“Sarah,” Joel’s voice cut through the silence. “My daughter,” he stepped closer to you. “Hit and run,” a heavy sadness carried through his voice.
“I’m sorry,” you turned towards him, he’d changed into a simple shirt and a pair of clean jeans, hair still damp. You leaned into him, arm around his back.
“Thank you,” his hand settled on your waist again, keeping you close. “Was a long time ago. She woulda liked you. Your place.” A soft, sad smile settled onto his lips. “Was too smart for her own good."
Over the course of the dinner preparations — you took over potato duty after he begrudgingly let you, you learn that he’d bought the property before. Always with the intention to build. A life for himself here, and Sarah. And how for a while, he did nothing. Swung like a pendulum between working too much and not working at all.
“Got too much. Saw her everywhere,” you got that and couldn’t fault him for deciding to leave and literally, rebuild somewhere new. She’d still come with him, in small ways. The photographs, a framed drawing of two stick-figures you spotted on top of the fridge, in the way he talked about her.
“‘m sorry. Didn’t mean to dull the evening” he’d shooed you from the stove, once the potatoes were in the boiling water, so you’d settled outside with him. Settled on one of the porch chairs while he dealt with the steaks and beans, a glass of wine beside you
“You didn’t,” you were fast to reassure, because he really hadn’t. “She’s a part of you, ’n always will be. Means something you decided to share that with me.”
“How’d you do that?” Joel shook his head. “Always knowin’ what to say?”
“Wanted to be a psychiatrist, once upon a time,” you’d never disclosed what you’d studied for when you dropped out. “Guess I might have made a good one.” You could see the question in his eyes when he glanced back at you. “Long story, life happened.” Joel didn’t press, and you were grateful for that. So the silence that followed wasn’t an uncomfortable one, while you watched the rain that had softened to a drizzle and he flipped the steaks.
“No wonder you read me to shreds,” he huffed, good humour in his voice. “Going three for three between the coffee, sandwich and cinnamon roll.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t psychoanalyse you,” you joked “Or maybe just enough to keep you on your toes.”
“Sounds ‘bout right,” he huffed, plating the steaks just as the timer he’d set for the potatoes went off.
He wasn’t too presumptuous about the condoms, that much became obvious quick when you settled on the couch with him after dinner. Because it didn’t take long for the conversation about everything and nothing to die down because you wound up in his lap instead, fingers in his hair and lips moving against his. You could feel him get hard against you.
“Babygirl, no…-” his voice was rough and he tried to stop you when your fingers moved to the fly of his jeans. “I want—” the words died in his throat when your palm pressed against him.
“Let me,” you breathed against his lips, easing the button open and gradually slipping off of his lap.
“Fuck,” Joel groaned, “You sure?” After your nod, he didn’t try to stop you again but aided you in easing his pants enough until his cock sprung free.
Holy fuck. After this morning you knew that he was bigger than anyone you’d been with before but fuck. Thick and long, pre-cum beading. Mesmerising. You liked your lips, fingers closing around his length, pumping him, once, twice, keeping your eyes on him. Joel watched you, continued to, when your tongue dragged along his tip.
His fingers found your hair, not to guide, just to hold. So he could continue to watch while your lips wrapped around him. Only when you hollowed your cheeks and moved your pumping fingers in tandem did he stop. Because his head fell back and and a moan fell from his lips. “Fuck—- babygirl,” his grip on your hair tightened, but he still didn’t force your head down. “Y’know,” his voice was breathy, when his eyes found yours again. “Been fuckin’ thinkin’bout this,” he admitted, while you kept working him. “Since— since’first time ya popped that fuckin’ gum. Smug smile’n all.”
“Oh I know,” you grinned up at him, string of saliva between your lips and his cock.
“‘course you do,” he groaned, stopping you from working him back into your mouth and before you can protest, he had you on your feet, leading you towards the bedroom. Pants still open and his cock out. “Somethin’ else I wanted t’do,” his voice was low gravel when he guided you down into the dark sheets. And fuck you know what he’s after. “Somethin’ I shoulda done this mornin,’” you lose our pants, the old band tee you’d thrown on in the morning.
You were drenched by the time he eased your panties down your legs, a quivering mess, really because you knew what he was after the second he settled between your thighs. “Gorgeous,” his breath was a hot puff of air against slick skin. “Couldn’t stop thinkin’ bout her all day. After how tight she squeezed me.” On cue, you clench around nothing.
“Joel,” more whine than moan. “Please?”
“Look at you,” you could hear how smug he was, “All polite,” he rewarded you, with a slow drag of his tongue along the length of your slit. “All please n’ no sass.”
“Fuck,” you cried out and that bastard chuckled, “Quit teasing!” Your fingers tucked on his salt and pepper curls, impatient.
“Goddamnit Joel!” You whined, “I swear to god if you don’t fucking touch me right I’ll spit in your fucking coffee!”
A single smack, sharp, stinging, right against your clit.
You yelped and Joel hummed. “That’s now how you say please, babygirl.”
“Joel,” you whimpered, “Please, Joel, please, please—” and he gave in, his lips closing around your clit and his index finger sinking into you. You’re wound up so tight, the coil behind your navel ready to snap that you were already teetering on the edge when he added a second finger.
“Wasn’t so hard now, was it?” He murmured lips glossy with your release when he settled into the sheets beside you. While you still tried to catch your breath. “Sayin’ please, ’n bein’ a good girl.”
“Asshole,” you managed and he snorted. “Still gonna spit into your coffee.” He laughed against your neck where he was peppering kisses.
“Sure you’ll,” he sounded amused “Still gonna drink it.” As if he hadn’t chewed your fucking gum for half of the day.
“Freak,” you laughed, your thighs parting to easily accommodate him as he settled between them, after finally kicking his jeans off.
“Careful now, might need t’bend ya over the bar next time,” Joel teased, his cock dragging against your clit when he hooked one of your legs over his hip.
“That a promise?” The grin died on your lips when your mouth fell open around a moan, drawn forth by him finally sinking into you. Slow, inch by thick fucking inch, letting you feel all of him. You clung to him, fingers in his hair, nails digging into his shoulder, when he finally bottomed out inside of you.
“Look at you squeezin’ me,” he groaned when he started he started to move. “Didn’t got enough this mornin’, did’cha?” even if you would have wanted to, you couldn’t manage a reply. “Greedy girl.”
You fell just a beat before him, pulling him with you when your second orgasm ripped through you, feeling his thick release spilling deep inside of you.
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Joel.
He woke you with a gentle kiss to your forehead and a rumbled “Mornin’ babygirl,” against your temple. You’d told him, before falling asleep, what time you needed to be at the store to open up and he’d set his alarm to ensure he’d have time to take you to our place before. So you could freshen up.
No need for a walk-of-shame.
You life about halfway between his place and the café, and much to his surprise he discovers that you’re quite grumpy the first twenty or so minutes after waking up. Complaining and huffing and puffing and “Gonna bump the hours to 9—8, fuck the early bird,” until he had you into the passenger seat with a handful of cotton-candy-grapes he’d bought on accident.
He pulled into the parking lot right on time, and like the day before, he joined you inside. Needing no instructions this time around to help you set up. At least up to where he’d stopped yesterday.
“I’m afraid I can’t swing three today,” he frowned, watching you pack his sandwich.
“You know where to find me whenever you can,” simple as that. He’d been to your flat now. Had caught a glimpse of the chaos of plants and books you called home. “Might even have dinner ready,” you grinned, “Not steak but, how’s pasta sound?”
“Good, real good,” he mirrored your smile.
“Alright, cowboy,” Joel wanted to roll his eyes but then he watched you pull his travel mug from your tote that you’d left on the counter. He hadn’t realised you’d taken it from the counter beside his coffee machine. Where it had sat, clean and unused, since the day he’d forgotten it for the first time. He was about to grab it, once you’d filled it, except you pulled your hand back. “Wait, almost forgot.” He watched, how you unscrewed the lid and spit into his coffee just like you’d promised you would. Before closing the lid again and handing it to him.
“You’re lucky I don’t have time to bend you over t’bar.” And just to prove a point, he took a swig of the coffee. “‘m sure’ll find a surface fit enough in your flat.”
“Promises, promises,” you sighed dramatically, gum popping and a grin on your lips.
“Fucking menace,” he laughed, drawing you into him. “Don’t spit into any other coffees though, alright?” He breathed against your lips.
15 years ago, you begged Joel Miller for a favour, receiving only silence in response. You left Boston thinking he wasn't interested in your lame bargain. You found out, too late, that Joel Miller actually did do you that favour, fulfilling his end of the bargain, leaving you indebted to him. Now, all these years later, he arrived in Jackson, and you found yourself living your life wondering - will he collect?
WARNINGS:
Non-Canon Compliant, Ellie and Joel are Good, The Hospital Thing Happened but with a Twist, Ellie is a Menace, Ex-Raider Joel Miller, Ex-Smuggler Joel Miller, Joel Miller is a Man of Not So Many Words, Joel Miller is a New Dad All Over Again, Reader has Low Self-Esteem, Reader has a Facial Scar, Reader is a Recluse, Reader is in her mid-40s, Slow Burn, Longing, Yearning, Loneliness, Miscommunication, Jealousy, Joel Needs to Learn to Speak, Bullies, Eventual Smut, Mentions of Period Blood.
Let me know if you want to be tagged or taken off the tag list!
MASTER LIST
Part 11
Disclaimer: I don't Beta my work and English is not my first language, so if there are errors, I am sorry!
Joel Miller was in hell.
Not only was this Parrot bogarting you, but he was also actually making him, Joel Miller, look like a bumbling, stuttering, idiotic baboon that had no place whatsoever in your life.
That stupid Parrot was making Joel Miller redundant. Expendable. Disposable. Sidelined.
That morning had started of badly. He had to watch as Pero woke you up with a soft coo of your name and some Spanish words he didn’t really catch. He had to watch as the two of you smile at each other, reminiscing about waiting for the school bus together and buying some breakfast burrito from the lady outside the school, talking about one particular pastry she usually slipped you with a wink.
He didn’t get it. Okay, you two knew each other back when you were kids. But you hadn’t seen each other in forever. As far as he was concerned, you didn’t know this man. People change.
Take him, for example. Back when he was eight, he used to think that girls were yucky. The memories of Beth Allans and her slobbery, forced kisses on his cheek haunted his sleeps. His stomach used to churn at the thought that she was coming over for a playdate. All she wanted to play was pretend weddings and the last thing Joel wanted was to pretend-marry her.
He also wished Tommy the annoying maggot he couldn’t get rid of would run off into the sunset and never return.
But that was back then.
Now, he had travelled on foot for months to look for his brother. Tommy was his life and he would die to protect him.
And as for girls, well.
All he could think of since he met you was how sad it was for him that he hadn’t met you sooner. He wouldn’t have minded any form of kisses from you, slobbery or otherwise. He would welcome them with open arms. And he would have courted you, dated you, proposed to you, married you, have babies with you. Sarah would have had siblings. You and he would have had a family.
What he wouldn’t do to kiss you again. To tell you everything he had been thinking of when it comes to you ever since that first time he saw you. When you saved his life. The life that, for all it was worth, was hell to live out so far since his little girl was taken away from him. But it’s a life with you in it. And even though you and him separated after mere weeks, the memory of you and those three weeks spent together kept him going. And for the past 15 years, he had hung on by whatever glimpses of you he could remember to keep him alive and motivated.
And now you were right here, and all he could do was fuck up.
Again and again and again.
So what if you had a list? So what if you thought you owed him sex? All he had to do was tell you right away that you didn’t owe him shit, kiss you again and never let go.
But no… he chose to be all hurt and insecure and then proceeded to be a stupid man who then hurt you even more. With Melissa, of all people. He may not have agreed with her plans, but he didn’t exactly do anything to stop her either, all because he needed to know if you would be jealous.
He was going to talk to you. He really was. But it was as if some magical power took a hold of his tongue and tied it into knots every single time he tried. One look, one smile from you, and he was speechless, powerless to say anything. And the other day, he had been ready, he wanted to tell you everything, wanted to apologize, profess his love for you, all of it. But you hulked out, telling him exactly what you thought of him, making him swallow his tongue altogether.
He’s ashamed to admit it, but if he thought you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen before, you were down right sexy right then. You speaking your mind like that was something to behold. Confident, strong, powerful.
He liked it.
But then of course, that Parrot had to interrupt.
He didn’t like that this Parrot was here. He didn’t like that you trusted him without a second doubt. The man could have changed. He might have been the sweet, moody boy next door back then, he could be a deranged psychopath now, you never know. He could be a bad guy, like, a really, really bad guy. You know, a bad guy who travels with his sick mother to keep her safe.
Damn it, even Joel could hear how stupid he was sounding in his own head.
As Joel watched Pero talk to you while having breakfast, he felt a surge of envy he couldn’t shake off. How was it that talking to you came so easily for this guy? Joel felt as if he had to fight off a battalion of butterflies in his stomach every single time he tried, and this guy, with his stupid accent, made it seem so easy. Like he wouldn’t die if you heard the thoughts in his head coming out of his mouth.
Of course, Pero was not confessing his deepest, darkest desires to you, merely reminiscing, but Joel found himself gritting his teeth every single time anyway. He wanted to reminisce too. But you might find his reminisces creepy.
You didn’t remember the three weeks you had with him, how would that go?
Hey, Elena, remember when you saved me from offing myself?
Hey Elena, remember when I watched you sleep like a fucking creep in the ambulance?
Hey Elena, remember when I gave that dude at the QZ a dirty look when he tried flirting with you?
Nope, not the same as remembering the candy his Abuela used to make for you kids.
And of course, just when Joel couldn’t think of any other way this Parrot man could be more annoying, he proved Joel wrong.
The journey back to Jackson was not a quiet one. The Parrot rode with you in front, Joel following, wary of this dude. Their horses were strapped with offerings from Jimmy in exchange for the clothing and some supplies from Jackson. The man was telling you about his life since outbreak day while you listened intently. Even Joel found himself listening, damn it, starting a commune of his own with his friends.
And then, a couple of clickers made themselves known about 50 yards ahead, your horses going straight for them. Joel got his rifle ready and aimed, so did you, but Parrot moved first, “Make sure there are none from the sides,” he calmly said, riding ahead.
Joel wanted to scream at him, he had no rifle. He was riding ahead at full speed, nothing in his hands. Then, with about 20 yards to go, he drew something from under the cloak he was wearing, and Joel Miller swore his jaw dropped to the ground.
It was a fucking broadsword.
A real, fucking broadsword. Like the ones Joel had seen in all those movies he had been crazy about. All shining and glinting in the morning light.
What?
Like, what the fuck, Parrot? Really? A fucking broadsword?
Parrot didn’t even dismount, simply rode at full speed and sliced the clickers’ head clean off before pulling some sort of stunt, turning the horse around and checking for other threats.
“Pero! There’s another one!” you had shouted, pointing to Parrot’s left.
Parrot didn’t flinch, simply sheathed the glorious sword back into its scabbard and pulled out a throwing knife and threw it at the clicker, sticking it right between the eyes, shouting at his horse and gunning towards it and taking the knife back, all before the clicker even realized what had happened, kicking it square in the chest as he did so, the creature falling back, dead.
Hey, why did you have to tell Parrot about that clicker? Why couldn’t you have told him and let him shoot that one? Give him a chance to show off too?
Joel had to give it to the man. He was practically picking his jaw off the ground. That was the coolest thing he had ever seen in his life. It was like watching some great epic movie, a warrior defending the Great Wall of China or some shit.
But as he rode silently behind you and the Parrot, listening to him regale you of his adventures on the road, Joel found himself just feeling bitter.
He could have been that cool if he had a broadsword too. He liked all those kung fu movies. And Star Wars. And Braveheart. All that. He could have had one, if he had found one. He could have sliced clickers’ heads off too.
Damn it.
He hated the damned guy. Where did he even come from?
You listened as Pero told you of his adventures since the outbreak. His Papa was gone the first day. He came home his usual self and turned right after dinner. His sister Silvia had to shoot him herself, taking their Mama to him right after.
He was at college then, he said, unaware of what was happening until Silvia drove up. He, his college roommate William and his girlfriend Lin escaped, driving to William’s family lakeside cabin, somehow making it unscathed, and had been living there since, living off the land. They had a small commune there themselves, smaller than Jackson, but they made do. The community worked together well, protecting their land from harm and threats as well as they could.
He and his people decided to rely more on traditional weaponry, he said, guns and rifles only used as a first line of defence. “You don’t run out of ammo if you go traditional,” he said. “But such weapons do require close up combat, and that doesn’t come without its own risks,” he added, pointing to his eye. But they lived a quiet, fulfilling life there, they’re happy.
Jimmy’s children went on a particularly long scavenging trip one day and got lost, accidentally wandering into their territory. Some late night talks led them to discover that they were Lauren’s children, eventually putting together that Lauren and Gloria were cousins.
They kept in touch, the boys making the three days journey back a couple of times a year, trading stuff and reconnecting, but during their visit this year, Gloria made it quite clear that she wanted to travel and see her cousin one last time.
“She has been confusing her life with her younger years these days,” Pero said, a heaviness in his voice. “It’s why she thinks you are your mother. All she talks about with Lauren are their childhood memories. It is as if she is stuck in the past, but I am glad for it, there were no clickers in the past,” he said.
So here Pero was, fulfilling his Mama’s wishes while his best friend and his wife travelled to the Tetons for a well-deserved break, Pero enjoying the change in scenery at the farm, meeting you by chance.
The town was awestruck by your arrival. The women were openly staring at Pero, the man looking around with interest. But most of all, the townsfolk were staring at you – sans hood. But you found that you didn’t care anymore, leading the horses straight to the stable. Pero unloaded the flour and bacon he had brought from Jimmy, introducing himself to Hank, who couldn’t be happier with the offerings.
“So, the hood is staying off?” Hank asked, looking proud of you.
You shrugged. “We’ll see, might put it back on if children start screaming and running away from me,” you joked.
He laughed, his eyes on Pero. “Damn, you just attract people who look like Joel Miller around don’t ya?” Hank teased, gawking at the man. “And is that a broadsword?”
“What? What are you talking about?” Joel Miller interrupted, staring at Pero.
“Look at the man, Joel, he’s your doppelganger. Except he’s more… rugged. That scar… it just makes him look dangerous,” Hank said. “And that broadsword… damn…”
“You should have seen the guy in action,” you said, unable to stop yourself.
Pero smiled, “I will teach you how to use one, Elena, if you so wish. And as for your claim that Joel Miller and I look alike, I can see the resemblance. It’s an honour to be compared to him,” Pero said, very light-hearted, very sincere.
“I don’t,” Joel grumped, turning away, busying himself with the saddles, his face practically crumpled up from his grump. How dare this Parrot make himself seem all earnest like that, when he knew for a fact that he had been treating him like he was some kind of an immoral, ungentlemanly leper?
And why would you brag about his prowess with the broadsword like that?
Shit.
You decided to ignore him, telling Pero you would very much like it if he could come with you and meet Maria.
You didn’t ask him to follow, but you and Pero found Joel Miller right behind you when you started walking, sulking as he listened to you tell Pero all about the town. You stopped at the laundromat, telling him this was where you lived.
Pero looked around with interest, his hand shaking the pole that held up your loft, his face crumpled up from worry.
“I have a plan to overhaul this place, we start in a few weeks,” Joel quickly remarked before Pero could say anything.
“Oh?” Pero said, looking interested.
“Yeah, we plan to extend the back, give her a proper room. These walls,” he pointed to the long side of the room, “Are drafty, we’re rebuilding this wall, fixing the roof, and adding a room for her. She’ll be warmer in the winters, a lot more comfortable.”
Wait, why didn’t you know about this?
He must have noticed your confusion.
“We were going to tell you, well, I was going to tell you, that night, but…” he said, trailing off.
Oh.
“That sounds like a lot of work, and a lot of resources, it’s just a laundromat, Joel,” you said, sounding worried.
“No, Elena, this is your home. I want you to be comfortable. I know you sleep in a tent on the loft during winter because it gets so cold in here. The place is suffocatingly warm during the summer because the walls cannot retain cool air. I’m building you a better place. It’s all discussed and cleared. We start in a few weeks. Your business, your life, shouldn’t be affected much, we build the room outside, cut the door once everything is done, and then fix the wall. The committee has agreed.”
“But… we have newcomers all the time, and people need those resources… There are houses to build… I’m fine. Been living here for years, I’ll be okay. I’m used to it. I’m alone anyway, there are families that need houses, Joel.”
Pero didn’t say anything, but he was eyeing you with interest, his eyes narrowed.
Okay, Pero needed to stop staring at you. Why was he staring at you? What was that expression on his face? You couldn’t read this guy, yet you trust him. You didn’t get it.
“So do you, Elena,” Joel Miller gently retorted.
“But these people, some of them have families, children, I’ll be fine…”
“My God, Elena, just because you’re single, doesn’t mean you have to be sidelined. Just let the man build you a nicer place to live in,” Tommy’s voice chimed in, the man suddenly materializing in your doorway. “Hey, Tommy Miller, you must be Pero,” he said, extending a hand to your friend.
“Pero Tovar,” Pero took his hand.
“My God,” Tommy said, looking at both Pero and Joel Miller, “You’re practically twins!” he remarked. “You look more like him than I do! You sure Mama didn’t give birth to a secret twin?” he joked, punching his brother in the arm.
“What are you talking about…” Joel Miller groaned.
Huh… you knew what Hank said. You knew what Jimmy said. But you didn’t quite understand what they were on about. But now… they do sort of look very similar…
“Come on,” Tommy said, smirking at his brother’s annoyance. “You’re invited to morning tea, Pero, my wife would very much like to meet you. She’s the mayor. We just had a baby, so you’re gonna have to go to her, I’m afraid.”
Pero looked at you, eyebrow raised.
“Small town, news travels fast.”
He laughed, “I get it. My commune is a lot smaller. I swear we all get the news the moment the wind blows,” he said.
Maria was waiting on the porch when all of you arrived. “You’re in big trouble,” she warned, looking a bit annoyed at you. “Don’t ever think you can leave the town alone like that and not get in trouble, sister or no sister,” she chastised.
She kissed Joel Miller on the cheek, thanking him for going after you. “You will still answer for that bullshit you pulled with Melissa,” she chastised. “I’m never letting you off that hook, Miller,” she warned. Joel Miller hung his head, knowing a long, unpleasant talking to was coming.
“I like you, Mrs Miller,” Pero said, smiling.
Maria smiled, looking Pero up and down, immediately liking this man.
“And this must be the new Miller,” Pero cooed, going to the bassinet, smiling at Benjy the heartbreaker.
“Yes, this is Benjy,” Maria introduced her son, that proud new mother smile on her face, picking him up, passing him to Pero.
Okay, that was a sight to behold. Pero looked so natural with a baby in his arms. Way too comfortable. He noticed you staring.
“I have many nieces and nephews. I’m everyone’s favourite grumpy uncle,” he explained.
“Hey! Benjy has a favourite grumpy uncle too!” Tommy exclaimed, eyeing Joel Miller.
Okay, was it your imagination or did Joel Miller not like being compared to Pero?
Seriously. What was wrong with everyone?
Why would everyone compare him to this Parrot?
And no… he and Parrot were nothing alike. He was sure he was a bit more relaxed than this guy. Definitely less grumpy. And more handsome, surely? At least to you? Please?
He watched as Pero passed Benjy to you.
His heart dropped.
You had never let him pass Benjy directly to you. You had never passed Benjy directly to him. You always used the bassinet. He tried to once or twice, you’d always insisted he place Benjy in the bassinet before picking him back up. You did the same every time you were passing the baby to him too. It was as if you didn’t want to accidentally touch him.
He watched as Maria and Tommy talk to Pero, the man telling them about his commune. He watched as Maria laughed at his jokes. The same Maria who didn’t want him in town in the first place, the one who hated him without knowing him. And yet, here she was, laughing hysterically at this man she had never met, heck, had never even heard of until today, as if she had known him forever.
And now the man was sharing tips on farming, Maria listening intently as if taking mental notes. Even Tommy, who usually glazed over whenever people started talking about work was listening intently.
Joel Miller’s attention was diverted by a cooing Benjy, lying contentedly in your arms, his eyes fixed on yours.
The sight of you, your hair out, your face out in the open, looking radiant, confident, so much love in your eyes as you whispered praises and loving words to your nephew, a smile on your face, everything he was seeing just took his breath away.
My God, he could not stop himself from planning a future with you.
All he had to do was talk to you. That was all.
You looked up, eyes on his, as if expecting him to say something.
“Joel!” Tommy almost barked.
“What?”
“We’re gonna go to the greenhouse, wanna come with?” Tommy asked.
Pero and Maria were already by the door, staring at him expectantly.
“Uh, no, I should get home. Shower. Get ready for the day.”
“Be right back,” Maria said to you, going over to kiss Benjy. “You okay to watch him for a while?”
“Just go, Auntie Elena wants to have a date with the heartbreaker,” you cooed, convincing yourself that Benjy was smiling and winking at you.
“Uh, the heartbreaker needs a nap, I don’t need a cranky baby when I get back,” Maria warned before leaving.
“You want to sleep sweet boy? Are you tired? Auntie Elena misses you so much,” you said, rocking him slowly with your body, “You go to sleep, I will be right here to keep you company. Nothing bad will happen to you while I’m here Baby Boy, I love you so much!” you said, slowly dancing your way around the living room to lull him to sleep.
“You’re very good with him,” Joel Miller spoke, almost making you jump out of your skin. You’d thought he left when the others did. “Sorry,” he whispered, “Didn’t mean to scare you.”
“You should go, I’ve got him,” you told him, slowly lowering Benjy back into the bassinet, the boy yawning before settling.
“He’s so cute,” you said to yourself.
“He looks like his cousin Sarah when she was a baby,” he said.
“Maybe one day you’ll tell him all about her,” you gently said, seeing his eyes starting to glisten.
“Yeah,” he mouthed.
You sat down, taking the blanket Maria must have used before you got there to fold.
“Elena, can we talk?”
“Uh, okay,” you said, checking that Benjy was asleep.
He sat down across from you, his fingers interlaced with each other in front of him, his heart beating out of his mouth.
“I wanted to apologize… for leaving that night. I shouldn’t have. I should have stayed and talked to you.”
You didn’t answer, didn’t really react, simply kept your head down. Joel didn’t know what to do, wondering of he should keep talking or leave.
What the fuck was the matter with him? Why can’t he just have a proper conversation with you?
“Why did you leave? Did I do something wrong?” you finally asked, practically filling his lungs with much needed oxygen.
Okay, progress.
“No, of course not. It’s just… I saw the list, and I started wondering if… if maybe you were kissing me as payment, not because you wanted to. I didn’t want to continue if it’s the latter, I don’t want to force you into doing anything you don’t want to do.”
Your head was still down, your hand on Benjy’s belly.
“But… you wanted to kiss me?”
“God, yes,” he desperately whispered.
He could practically hear your mind swirling.
“Because you wanted to collect your payment?”
What?
He got up and knelt in front of you.
“No! Never! Elena, listen to me, please, look at me when I say this,” he begged.
Your eyes finally met his.
“Elena, getting that medicine for Eddie was not something I even considered a favour. He was a friend, I would have done anything for him, for you. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything back then, but I didn’t know how to tell you that no payment would be required, seeing as you don’t remember knowing me from before the QZ… I…”
Your head snapped up.
“From before the QZ? We didn’t know each other from before the QZ…”
“We did, Baby, you saved my life! You don’t remember? Up in the trails? I tried to take my own life and you saved me, look!” he sounded so desperate, turning his head, showing you the scar on his temple. “See? You pulled the gun away, you hurt your hand,” he said, taking your hand in his own, turning it, showing you a faded burn scar you had just below your pointer finger. “Please, remember, we spent three weeks together, we looked at the stars every single night, please, Baby. You have to remember. Because if you do, you’ll know, you’ll know I’ve loved you for so long, I would have done anything for you. I’m alive because of you. If anyone owes anyone anything, it’s me who owes you my life.”
You pulled your hand back from him, “No, I went straight to the QZ after outbreak day. Eddie came and saved me from Daniel, and then he took me to the base and we got transferred to the QZ. Eddie worked for the hospital. I met you for the first time at the QZ!”
“No, Elena, we spent three weeks together, we were hiding from the authorities. Me and Tommy, you and Eddie and Carl and Ethan, we were together for three weeks!”
“No, I would remember. I would have remembered. If your claims are true, why don’t I remember? Why would I lose three weeks of my life and not remember meeting you and Tommy?”
Joel stopped himself from blurting out what happened. The fact that you said Eddie saved you from Daniel, that gave him pause. That little recollection you had changed everything. Eddie’s words played in his mind. The memory of how traumatized you were back then, that empty gaze you had when you phased out. He knew it had been twenty years, but he couldn’t risk the possibility of you withdrawing again. What if you did? Would you come back? He didn’t know.
The words got stuck in his throat.
“I don’t know,” he finally said, defeated.
“Well… I know for a fact that Eddie took me straight to safety. So, you can take that story you and Tommy have in your heads elsewhere,” you said, careful not to raise your voice.
Joel felt defeated. He wanted so desperately for you to remember those three weeks. He needed you to believe that you would never owe him anything. That his intentions with you were sincere. That he had been holding a torch for you all these years. God, how could he tell you these if you won’t believe him?
“But…” you suddenly continued, bringing his hopes up, “If you wanted to kiss me, really wanted to kiss me, why did you run to Melissa? Why do that to me?”
“Because I’m dumber than a brick wall,” he sighed, “She told me she could help me get you, make you jealous enough to fight for me. I told her I didn’t want to. But she is relentless. I should have been a lot sterner, I should have stopped her, but… I didn’t want to embarrass her in front of the town, didn’t want to chase her away, shout at her. I don’t even know why. But she got so brazen I couldn’t help myself anymore. I shouted at her. But then you ran off, so I went to go after you.”
You scoffed, checking on Benjy one more time and going to the kitchen to make yourself a cup of tea.
“Please, Elena, I’m sorry. I know I fucked up, but if you could give me another chance… please?”
You kept quiet as you went about filling the mug with hot water, placing a tea bag in it.
“Joel, I don’t know myself well enough to make any decisions. I just found out why my stepmother treated me the way she did all those years ago, and to be honest, with Gloria’s state of mind, I don’t even know if I can believe her. I can’t trust myself to decide anything right now.”
Joel found himself losing the ability to breathe.
“I lived my life being lied to, being taken advantage of, being ridiculed and put down. My behaviour, my way of living, it’s all been what my past has led me to. I’m in my mid-40s, Joel, I’m set in stone. The life I know taught me that no one is kind without cause, without expecting a payback. You and Tommy almost died getting Eddie’s medicine. I promised you I would pay you back, whatever it takes, even if it’s my own body. I know what you said. But I am finding it difficult to believe that you did that out of the goodness of your heart.”
“Elena, please, listen to me,” Joel pleaded, taking your face in his hands. “I know what you’re saying, I’m set in stone too. But if we’re going to go by your way of life, that everything requires payment, consider this. I owe you my life, Elena, if not for you, I wouldn’t be here. So as far as I’m concerned, I have to pay you back for the rest of my life! Wouldn’t you agree?”
You took his hands off your face, “I don’t remember that. And I don’t know if I can just take your words for it. Take Tommy’s words for it.”
“Why would we lie to you Elena?”
“Why would anyone lie? Why would anyone do anything? I don’t know. I don’t have the answers, and I don’t know how to deal with it. This is all so confusing to me, Joel. I’m sorry, but I don’t know who to trust and what is the truth anymore. I need time.”
He looked crestfallen, but he sighed and nodded, following you back into the living room. The two of you sat in silence, neither knowing what to say anymore.
You sat at a table with Pero, Ellie and Joel Miller having lunch. The townsfolk were looking on with interest, both at Pero, wondering who this man was, and at you, eating with the masses without your hood on.
Not that Pero noticed, he was busy answering Ellie’s questions, the teen full on curiosity about his weaponry. She told him of a knife she had, one her mother left her, now lost in transit from her travels.
Just like that, Pero took a butterfly knife he had with him and handed it to her.
Ellie gasped, “Really?”
Pero nodded, “It’s dangerous, you have to be very careful. But I can teach you how to use it well, if you want to learn,” he promised. “I have to come back to help with the garden, and your uncle has expressed interest in learning how to use the broadsword. So I can teach you while I am here next. But you need to promise me you will not use the knife without supervision and practice, yes?”
“I promise,” Ellie said, exaggerating her word, bowing and nodding at the same time, studying the knife.
“Hey, I don’t know about this,” Joel Miller tried to retaliate.
“Oh come on, you had no problem with my old one, why would you have a problem with this one? I didn’t go around stabbing people with that one, why would I do that with this one?” Ellie protested.
Joel didn’t answer. He was not going to say what was on his mind. You couldn’t pay him any amount of money to admit that the Parrot’s involvement was the sole source of his protest.
“Can you teach me how to fight with a broadsword too?” Ellie suddenly asked.
“NO!”
A chorus of three voices exclaimed, earning the three of you a torrent of protests and why nots from the teen.
“Because I said so, that’s why,” Joel Miller said.
“It’s dangerous,” you agreed.
Pero laughed, “That sword is heavier than you,” he coaxed, “When you are strong enough to lift one, then we can talk, yes?”
Oh, fuck this dude. Really? That’s just low. He got to Ellie. Damn it!
“Well, you must be very strong then, if you could lift that sword. I heard the story already,” a familiar voice cooed.
Of course Melissa had heard of a strong, good looking man gracing the town with his presence.
“Although, I’m sure Joel here can do that too, right Joel?” she simpered, pulling a chair to sit next to Joel. “I’m glad you made it home safe, I was worried,” she said, stroking his arm.
He pulled away. “Can you not? Did you not hear what I said yesterday?”
“Joel, I know you don’t mean it. You were worried about hurting Elena’s feelings, but she’s okay, right Elena? We don’t have to hide anymore. She’s got Pero now. And can I just say,” she said, turning to look at you, “You and Pero, you suit each other. Even got matching scars and everything! Although,” she said, leaning over Pero to whisper to you, “I don’t think foregoing the hood is a good idea. On Pero, a scar is sexy. On you? It’s just inconsiderate. Put that hideous thing away, why don’t you? Have you no shame?”
Joel Miller and Ellie didn’t have the time to react. Everything happened so fast. The next thing everyone in the hall knew, Melissa was pulled up and dragged out of the hall.
Pero had tossed Melissa out of the hall like a ragdoll.
“The only shameless and hideous person here is you. Get out of here and don’t bring that stench back any time soon. People are trying to eat,” he said, not bothering to lower his voice. He closed the door behind him before Melissa could take a breath. He sat back down, pushing your plate of food towards you, urging you to eat before focusing on his own meal.
“So that was Melissa?” he asked you.
You nodded.
Pero didn’t say anything, eating the rest of his meal, in silence, though his eyes were on Joel Miller throughout the meal. Ellie must have noticed, the teen holding her tongue the rest of the meal, quietly excusing herself after thanking Pero once more for the knife.
You walked Pero to the stable, thanking him for standing up for you. He merely smiled, telling you he will be back the next day, maybe you could join him for breakfast?
Jesse called your name, telling you that Maria had sent for you and Joel Miller. You gave Pero a quick hug, promising him that you will see him for breakfast before going with Jesse.
Joel made to follow you, but Pero called out his name.
“You let that woman insult Elena like that?” he asked, eyes on him.
Joel could feel his body heat up, both from the embarrassment of his lack of ability to stand up to Melissa and for keeping quiet when it comes to her insults towards you.
“You could treat her better, Joel Miller. She deserves that, no?” he said, getting on his horse and clicking his tongue before Joel could reply.
Joel cursed under his breath, internally berating himself for not being fast enough to defend you. He watched as Pero rode out of the gate, going to Tommy and Maria’s to see what it was that he was needed for.
“So, this is what we get if we had agreed to join you guys in the first place instead of being stubborn and staying at the cabin?” Tom asked, taking the basket filled with clothing and basic supplies with him as he walked out of the warehouse.
You laughed, giving Dean the basket full of baby clothes, the man taking it, eyeing you up and down.
“Almost didn’t recognize you without the hoodie,” he remarked. “Didn’t know that you… look like this,” he added, his eyes roving all over your person.
You didn’t know why, but you had never gotten a good vibe from Dean. Tom and Liz were good enough people, you had always thought, but Dean… he had this… aura… about him. Gave you the heebie-jeebies. He was a good looking man, but there was something about him that’s just… off.
The three of them were no stranger to Jackson. They lived about a day’s walk away, across the dam. They came by every now and again, trading their hunts and scavenges for basic supplies. There used to be 15 of them, but their number had since dwindled. They were invited to join the town some years ago but declined, preferring to live their lives in solitude. But Liz got pregnant, and they made a deal with Maria that they would be allowed to stay for her delivery and recuperation. They were given two rooms in Jesse’s house until Liz gets through her confinement.
“I’ll see you around, I guess. Let’s hope Liz’s baby cooperates. Maybe you and I could get to know each other better,” Dean said, almost sneered as he left the warehouse after Tom.
You had to supress a shudder, feeling all sorts of wrong. You locked the warehouse and crossed the street back to your home, eager to call it a day. But when you entered, a face you didn’t want to see was waiting for you.
It had been two weeks since that encounter at the hall. Melissa had stayed away from you since then, worried that Pero would intervene once more. Joel Miller had taken Pero’s words to heart and made it more than clear to her that he was not going to entertain her in any shape or form ever again, twice in the hall, in front of half the town. She had stuck to her group, although they seemed to be getting tired of her too, these days.
“You still owe me,” she said as you walked into the laundromat.
“What are you talking about Melissa? I’m tired. Can’t you bother me tomorrow?”
“Give me what you owe me, and I will leave you alone,” she insisted.
“I don’t owe you shit,” you said, opening the door wide, gesturing for her to leave.
“Oh, but you do. I don’t know how you do it, but Joel Miller seems to be warded from the superstition, but you are going to help me get a man if it’s the last thing you do. It’s not fair. I waited my turn. You need to get me a man.”
“Huh? What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Oh, don’t play dumb, Elena. You got half the female population of Jackson the man of their dreams, you owe me one too.”
Your forehead must have crinkled so badly from your confusion. Her demeanour changed.
“Oh my God, are you seriously that obtuse? You really thought the men who asked you out all this while asked you out because they wanted you? Because they were genuinely interested in you?”
Um… no, but you were still confused.
She scoffed, covering her mouth with her hands. “Oh my God, you poor thing,” she cooed. “Honey, men who date you will find the love of their lives. It’s practically a guarantee! Why do you think these men date you? Look at you! Why would a man voluntarily want you? You’re like the bitter medicine the men had to endure before being cured. Everyone knows this! Why do you think I was so adamant that you date Joel Miller? You think I went through all that trouble so he could end up with you?”
Summary: it's been twenty three years since Joel lost the most important person in his life, his daughter Sarah. He never dated or tried to start over again, until he met you–a single mother with a daughter who has a very particular name
Warnings: each chapter will have it's individual warnings but the ones i can think of right now are: age gap (30/61), reader's a single mom, parental neglect (not from reader or joel), child loss, some angst, eventual smut
A/N: This is me recycling an idea I used for a small series of one shots that i don't like anymore because I could've developed the story better. I still don't know how many chapter this will have. I'll try to update once a week but be patient if i don't. It's my first time writing a series and i hope you will like it
Taglist: comment or send an ask if you want to be tagged in this
Summary: Being single has left you starving to be touched. One night, Joel steps in and soothes the fire in your skin.
CW: MDNI. 18+ only. Reader has hair that can be brushed.
Word count: 2k
A/N: for @penvisions. I hope this helps. 💕 Let me know if you want the tag removed.
All the moots that unfollowed me last month can fuck off. You are NOT welcome to read my fics.
Your skin was screaming.
Being single was really great- most of the time. But every once in a while, the lack of physical affection ate away at you. You missed the little things: a hand resting low on your hip when moving through a crowded room… a warm hand gripping yours as you cross the street. A lap to lay your head in; and fingers in your hair; massaging your scalp.
Tonight you’d tried all the tricks: a weighted blanket; a hot bath; that weird compression garment that made you look like a caterpillar in a cocoon. You even considered booking a massage; but that just felt too desperate.
And this is how Joel ended up finding you on your back porch, late into a Friday night; curled up in a chair with your arms wrapped around your legs; staring off into the night sky.
“Hey darlin. What’rya doin home on a Friday night? Shouldn’t you be out with your friends, dancin?”
Joel knew you loved hitting 6th street. The energy, the live music, the ridiculous stories you’d bring home to share with him. But tonight, you just couldn’t bring yourself to go out with your friends, when you were the only one without a partner.
“Just… felt a little too lonely this time, to be the 5th wheel, you know?”
Joel hummed in agreement as he dug out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and slipped a cig between his lips; cradling the box in his big hand as he lit up the end. You watched, with longing, as his inhale made the tip glow. God- you were jealous of a cigarette!! This was a new low.
“Yeah, I’understand.”
He’d been single since Sarah’s mom had left, over 20 years ago now. You never saw him bring anyone home, through Sarah’s whole childhood. And a few years ago after you’d graduated college and moved back to Austin, Joel was still there next door- as single as ever.
“I thought once Sarah went off to college, I’d be ready to find love again… but now it’s all dating apps and hookups. Couldn’t find a girlfriend to save my life.”
He took a slow drag… savoring the pull; before blowing it out above your head. You tried to look away, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.
“Yeah. Same for me. No one wants to commit anymore- let alone just be a decent human being.”
He noticed you staring after the second pull; the look of need in your eyes.
“Y’want some?”
You licked your lips and nodded in response. Joel took the cigarette from his lips; bringing it down right in front of your mouth. The heat of his fingers pressed warm to your lips as you leaned forward and took a long drag. You couldn’t help your eyes closing at the softness of his touch. And Joel noticed.
When you sat back in contentment, Joel took another hit as he watched you hold your breath; tilting your head back against the chair; slowly letting the smoke waft from your parted lips.
“More?”
“Please.”
His fingertips met your lips once more; but this time, his thumb caressed your cheek. Gentle. Slow.
Leaning into his touch, you savored those seconds; willing them to stretch… to slow down… to linger.
Joel noticed. And he understood better than you knew.
After you exhaled, Joel tipped your chin up til your eyes met his.
“Wanna come over?”
His deep brown eyes settled you.
“I got some takeout that’s still warm, and some chick flicks Sarah sent me for her visit next week.”
The thought of spending tonight with Joel sounded so much better than being alone.
“Sure.”
“Good girl. I’ll see you in a minute. My glass door is unlocked.”
He gave a gentle wink as he walked backward, then turned around. You watched as he walked away; taking a few more hits before stamping out the butt on his porch. The curves of his muscular body glowed in the porch light as he disappeared into the house.
You slipped back inside your home and put on some pjs, then walked through your yard and into his.
When you looked inside, the lights were off in his living room; the kitchen lights bleeding cozily over the island and giving the place a gentle glow. It was inviting. Lived in. Not a typical bachelor pad. It felt… like family.
“Not sure what you’d want, so I made ya a plate with everything,” he said as you entered his kitchen.
The amount of food he handed you, could have stuffed you for an entire day. His thoughtfulness made you smile.
“Thanks. It looks amazing.”
Joel grabbed another plate and started filing it.
“Go on and eat on the couch. The movies Sarah sent are on the coffee table.”
You sat down and dug into your plate for a few bites, while trying to decide- the period piece? Or the modern lesbian christmas rom com? You weren’t up for the sci fi one tonight.
When Joel joined you on the couch, he helped you decide.
“I’ve had enough jane austen to last three lifetimes, with the way Sarah was obsessed in high school. Let’s go for the other one.”
You teased him and he took it in stride, as he got the movie started.
You sat in comfortable silence together; enjoying your meal as the story unfolded.
When you were full, you set your plate on the coffee table, and scooted a little closer to Joel; til your bodies touched all along your sides. Resting your head on his shoulder, you tucked in while he finished eating.
Joel reciprocated by setting his plate in his lap so he could wrap an arm around you. His arm was huge, and heavy- exactly what you’d been needing. The pressure grounded you… quieting your mind; letting you focus on the movie more than your aching skin.
The couple on the screen were so sweetly in love. You wanted to be swept away in the beautiful story; but instead all you could think of, was how you were missing out on all that love. All that touch.
“Honey, you cryin?”
You hadn’t even noticed the tears that had been quietly falling. You quickly wiped them away; embarrassed at your show of vulnerability.
“Sorry. I-”
“Don’t be sorry. Ain’t nothin wrong with tears.”
He squeezed you tight against his side; his dad skills taking over.
“What’s got the waterworks flowing?”
You paused, wondering if you should dump this on him.
“Well… I just… haven’t had a partner in a while. Sometimes I… really miss being touched.”
You waited for the embarrassment; the cringe… but it never came. Instead, Joel surprised you.
“Here-”
He put his mostly empty plate on the coffee table, and sat back on the couch; scooting his hips down and putting his legs close together.
“Come lay down. Put your head in my lap.”
You hesitated for just a second- his offer catching you by surprise.
“Unless you don’t want to?”
That got your attention.
“No- I do- thank you.”
The warm smile on Joel’s face reached his eyes; making them twinkle.
“‘Spent more nights on this couch with Sarah’s head in my lap, than I can count. ‘M happy to do it again for you.”
You slowly situated yourself in his lap; so careful not to get too close to that; and settled in.
“There you go. Now you just relax, Sweetheart. I got you.”
The movie faded into the distance in your mind; as Joel’s hand made it’s way into your hair. The tips of his fingers massaged your scalp in slow; soothing circles. You felt your body go lax; the stress of the day melting into the couch as he touched you.
Soon your breathing slowed; and you forgot about the movie. You let your eyes unfocus; and then close entirely.
His touch was heaven. Just the right pressure. Tracing the edges of your hairline… pressing circles behind your ear from top, to bottom. His thumb and fingers kneading the nape of your neck until you nearly fell asleep.
This is what you had needed.
It was everything.
Joel took his time with you; letting his touch linger in the spots that made you sigh. Gently tugging your hair up and holding it, watching until the tension in your body relaxed some more.
“That’s it. Just like that,” he soothed.
You weren’t sure how much time had passed; and you didn’t even care. All that mattered, was Joel’s hand in your hair.
Eventually his hand moved to your neck; massaging the crux of your neck and shoulders. He worked out the knots he found; patiently feeling them soften; and release.
And later, when the movie had ended, he simply hit replay, and tucked back in to taking care of you.
You fell asleep there, in his lap.
Time passed, and he stayed right there; giving you the touch you so deeply needed, even in sleep.
When you woke up with your head in his lap, around 2am; Joel set down the book he’d been reading in the dim light. His reading glasses sat adorably perched near the end of his nose.
“Joel?”
“Yeah baby?”
“Wha time is it?”
You rubbed your bleary, sleep-gooped eyes.
He checked his watch. “Just after 2.”
You sat up on your hands; then stretched good and long.
Before you could speak, Joel offered, “Before you go, can I brush your hair? I’d hate to send you home with a rat’s nest to take care of tomorrow.”
You giggled groggily, before nodding.
Joel spread his legs. “Come sit on the floor. Between my feet.”
You followed orders, and tucked yourself in. It felt forbidden and wonderful, to be close to him like this.
“Alright baby. Incoming.”
Your eyes drifted closed at the first gentle pull of the brush through your hair. You’d always known he was a great dad, but now you really knew. He untangled your hair with gentle precision. He never let a knot pull too hard. And soon, your hair was flowing again.
You shivered as he split your hair into three parts, and began braiding it. Each plait tickled your scalp as he folded each one over the other. The soft scrape of his fingertips drifted down your back as he got closer to the end. By the time he put a hair tie on, you could barely hold your head up. Blessed sleep was coming for you once more.
Joel got up and scooped you into his arms, grunting a low, “Here we go, Sweetness. Time for bed,” as he lifted you up and carried you through his home, and back across the yard to yours. The soft flex of his chest beneath your head, would have had you drooling if this was any regular day; but today? Everything about him brought you peace. There was rest in his strength, his touch; that you hadn’t been able to find anywhere. And all this time, it was right next door waiting for you.
Joel carried you into your house, and to your bedroom. He carefully tucked you in, and brushed a stray lock of hair out of your face once you settled in.
He took your hand.
“Any time you feel like this again, I want you to come over. No more suffering alone. I’ll cook ya somethin, and we can cuddle up. Will you do that for me?”
His soft eyes were insistent. “Say it.”
You nodded. Or at least you tried to.
“I’ll come over.”
“Good.”
And with a kiss on your forehead, he sat in the chair beside your bed; holding your hand until long after you’d fallen asleep.
Joel Miller is back home running his family’s ranch, the work coming back to him easily even as the house fills with the memories of what happened thirty years ago.
He hires a young farm hand, expecting nothing more than help around the barn. Instead, he finds someone just as lost as he is.
|| MDNI 18+, joel miller x reader, angst, eventual smut, rancher!joel, cowboy!joel, retiredpornstar!joel, horsegirl!reader (kinda), western vibes, ranch life, estranged family, grief, chosen family, romance, flirting, swearing, lots of talk about horses plz bear w me, nurturing joel miller, sarah lives and is canonically aged up, tension, yearning, older man x younger woman, reader was in uni but (legal) age gap is not specified, themes of pregnancy & pregnancy complications, trauma surrounding birth & pregnancy, some drinking, eating, avoidant tendencies, emotional reader, everyone bottles up their feelings yipeeeee, no animal death, some mentions of skipped meals, emotional smut, intimacy, kissing ||
total word count: 40k
a/n: thank you to this anon for sparking my inspiration for this story! it started as an idea to do some fun adult film star joel fanfic and then as I wrote it, it became way more angsty than I was expecting :') hope you enjoy my loves!!
teaser 1
volume I
volume II
volume III
epilogue: coming soon!
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