Pairing: Kept Man! Joel Miller x Sugar Momma! Reader
Summary: Fall bleeds into winter, even if the temperature doesn't change much in Austin. Everyday is packed in anticipation of the Ellie's graduation, the holidays fast approaching, and the opening of the shop. You and Joel find both common and rocky ground through it all, three different visitors throwing everything up in the air the moment you both think things are about to calm down...
Word Count: 7.7k
Warnings: Warnings: no outbreak au, modern au, age gap (joel is mid 50's, reader is late 20's / early 30's), reader is more of an oc written in the x reader style, reader is described to have a scar and tattoos, mommy vibes, reader see's joel and knows she wants to provide for him, underlying power dynamics, sexual undertones, masturbation (f), mutual pining, flirting, casual intimacy, mutual attraction, angst, family drama, strained family dynamics, mentions of past trauma, minor injuries (not described), miscommunication (my beloved), public disagreement, lot of joel POV, hefty cliffhanger cause it's me lol (pls let me know if i missed any!)
A/N: gonna drop this and bounce cause i'm super sleepy, happy reading y'all! โก
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Joel likes to think of himself as a simple man.
Just your average fifty-year-old, except heโs just turned fifty-three. His birthday this yearโฆwas better than the last few and certainly better than the ones he ignored in favor of doting on Sarah as she grew up and then Ellie as she became a part of the family.
The family he has around him, the life heโs made for himself. All the tough decisions of his teens and early twenties finally allowing him some peace. And you.
Captivating, alluring, so god damn beautiful and sweet heโs half convinced heโs going to startle awake on the couch from where he dozed off taking his shoes off after another long day of work in a never-ending cycle of long days of work.
You didnโt have to entertain him when he showed up at the airport, let alone allow him into your room, your space, your thoughts during the entire handful of days he spent out in a different city with you. But you did and did so happily. His trip out to see Sarah lifting his spirits even more. Then your return to Austin was all such a blur of anticipation and excitement. Heโs a little overwhelmed- but in a good way in a new way.
Itโs well into the end of the year now, with the holidays on the horizon and heโs pulling long hours on only one job โ to get your shop ready for opening day on the first of the new year. Well, for the party he knows youโre planning for New Yearโs in order to set off the opening the next day.
Itโs in the calendar on his phone, attached to his email.
Among other things.
Like the photographer you hired for that party, the article interviews youโve got to get done beforehand, the appointments that keep you just as busy as him building up and up, keeping you both occupied but he hopes that you think of him too, in the middle of it all.
Heโs stillโฆhesitant to use the card provided for non-work related things, though his own card now is a very taunting portal to a large sum in his personal account. Some of which heโs transferred to both Ellieโs and Sarahโs just because he can- because he wants them to know that heโll take care of them no matter what. They havenโt said anything about the large deposits on each pay day, nor does he think they will.
But itโs enough paired with the proposition of gifting Ellie a car for her graduation come the middle of December that youโve been kind enough to offer. Sheโs getting her associates, while Sarah went on to get something beyond her bachelors and is working through internships to make it happen during the last year. A few years between them and different paths that theyโre taking in life, but heโs proud of them both all the same. Loves them both all the same.
Heโd even thought about transferring some over to Tommyโs account. But the man would send it right back. Claiming Joelโs always done what he can but now that heโs in a financial situation the younger man doesnโt agree with, he canโt accept the money. Or some shit excuse along the lines Joel knows he would come up with. Theyโve only sent brief texts to each other in the time since they sat down in that coffee shop all those months ago at the beginning of summer.
He misses the meals they would share, even when Tommy was being weird about the jobs he would take over the ones he wouldnโt. Fresh from his extremely close call of serious prison time due to his record of repeated offenses finally catching up with him. Both of them under the impression that the therapy was helping until it wasnโt. The beginning of the year starting off with a call from a jail cell and Joel being torn from the tv dinner he had just loaded into the oven and the shitty b action movie he waited too long to see loaded up on the living room tv.
Thatโs when they met Maria, assigned to his case and in charge of his future from that point on. But Joel saw it all unfold between them, the heated arguments over details, the nonstop meetings and days in court, all of it was their beginning. Tommy officially asked her out after they won his case with nothing but volunteer hours and a guarantee that he would pick therapy back up at Camp Mambry- one of the Austin military bases.
It's all so much, thatโs happened this year so far.
Heโs trying not to think too hard about things, to just let things happen the way they will. To take it day by day with the world and with you. To not overthink and let the easy-going connection and attraction be what it is. But now heโs here in the trailer at the job site between your legs and his brother has just walked in.
Two of the most important people in his world besides his girls coming face to face was not on his list of things to tackle today.
You clock the similarities between the two men immediately. The curls in their thick hair, though his is darker. The wide shoulders, though Joel is taller. The deep brown eyes, though this strangerโs hold contempt and watch the way you collect yourself a little too closely for comfort. But you take it in stride, knowing that this man holds space in your parents and Joelโs lives. Stepping forward, you hold your hand out in greeting.
โHi there, you must be the elusive Tommy. Iโve heard quite a bit about you,โ You look up to take in the tightness of his lips and the clench of his jaw, face littered with moles and freckles heavier than Joel. But heโs a handsome man all the same. โItโs nice to finally meet you, Iโm Manny and Lydiaโs daughter.โ
โKnow you who you are.โ He ignores your hand, his arms crossed over his chest as his eyes bounce from you to his brother behind you.
โI had hoped we would meet that day of the inspection for the work on their place, but I get juggling a few too many things at a time.โ You know youโre prattling on, but itโs to help bridge the gap and deflate the tension that seems to only rise within the confines of the small space. โI hope youโve been doing well, though? They said youโve been tending to your wife, Maria- was it? I hope sheโs not too uncomfortable, but Iโm more than happy to take her for a spa day to relax or to make a registry for the baby shower if yโall need the help?โ
Joel steps closer to you, brushing the round of your shoulder in a soothing motion when you take your hand back and wipe a sweaty palm on your leg. Your gaze turns to him, confusion swirling in your eyes at the rather stiff way Tommy is just standing there. Eyes narrowed and shoulders tense. The firm line of Joelโs lips and the tension in his own body tells you that youโre missing something pivotal.
Joel mentioned that the talk with his brother hadnโt gone bad nor good, it was simply done. Tommyโs name is still on the payroll, though he hadnโt clocked in any hours since the shift from public to private operations. But you can recognize the need for space, the two brothers clearly have something to work out and you excuse yourself before disappearing through the door outside.
Tommy blinks, brows relaxing and jaw unclenching just slightly.
โSheโs pretty, Iโll give her that.โ Tommy breaks the silence, walking around Joelโs stiff form to plop down in one of the two chairs that face the desk. His eyes linger on the spot you were seated on before jumping up when he came in. โPolite too, though I can wager a guess you havenโt told her about our last conversation.โ
โWatch it.โ Joelโs voice holds a warning, his urge to protect you flaring.
โJust thought you would share with her that you and I ainโt exactly on good terms,โ
โBeen dealinโ with a lot, working to get the-โ
โOh save it, havenโt been dealinโ with too much to nail her on your desk.โ
โI said watch it, Tommy.โ He barks, not in the mood for the accusations and insinuations. Even ifโฆthis thing between you two escalated that far- he would make sure you got everything you deserved. Not some quick fuck in his office at a job site, even if his mind filed away the scene for potential later time.
โYou should be the one watching it, big brother. Sheโs gonna hurt you and Iโm not sayinโ I wonโt be there but itโs not gonna be without a few things to say.โ
โGood thing I have no interest in what you have to say then, isnโt it?โ
Silence settles, both of them watching each other. Tommyโs eyes flicker and his face softens for the barest second before hardening back into an angry mask.
โWhy are you here, Tommy?โ Exasperation, a little argumentative but justified all the same.
โMy hours at the base got cut, too few recruits and too many deployed,โ The younger man deflates under the watchful eye of his brother. The space is safe, despite the tension in the air and the way they left things. He knows Joel will always help, do what he can to help. Theyโve had no one but each other for most of their lives.
โAnd your benefits?โ
โStill applicable. We-weโre fine on that front.โ
โSo you need work.โ
โโฆyes.โ
โTommy, if you were anyone else with your track record-โ
โI know,โ He agrees, knowing that the situation isnโt ideal. Heโd been treating Joel and the work like something of an inconvenience when it didnโt suit him and yet here is his asking for more hours even after Joelโs cut him loose completely. โIf you have to talk to her about it and she disagrees, thenโฆIโll accept that.โ
โShe ainโt gonna turn you away and neither am I.โ
โIโll be better this time around, Joel, I promise.โ
โWatch yourself, brother.โ Joel pats a hand over Tommyโs shoulder before he pulls him into a brief embrace.
Tommy does watch. From the top of the little set of stairs leading up to the trailer door.
He watches the way Joelโs shoulders relax and his hands stop clenching the moment heโs back in your orbit. The way his face takes on a softer quality, his eyes never straying from you for too long. The easy way you two talk, the hand on his arm as you give him your full attention head on and undoubtedly ask the man if heโs okay. The dip of your foreheads, the way you linger around him even if his mouth doesnโt lift at the corner more than a fraction.
The attention you both dot on each other even as Joel guides you around the completed framework of the building, explaining with big sweeping arms where walls are due to go up and the next steps of the job. How you take the time to ask questions and Joel does his best to explain in ways for you to understand and soothe the little furrow of confusion in your brow or the downward pull of your lips.
He can see the woman that your parents have described to him, told him stories of. But he also sees someone who can hurt his brother, professionally and personally. Because Joel? Joelโs never acted like this with another client in their entire working history. Thereโs more between you two than the friendly rapport of someone with money swooping in to help a man privatize his business to keep it afloat in a more manageable way.
He watches the way you interact with the crew, that they like you and joke with you as much as they do Joel and did Tommy when he was steadily working alongside them. He watches the way Joelโs eyes flit back and forth between you and the crew as you make your way back to a modest vehicle.
He watches when your parents invite him and Maria over for dinner, claiming they miss him and to thank him for the work he helped get done on their house. Seems like you nor Joel told them that he had nothing to do with it, protecting them from his pettiness of just straight up telling Joel he wonโt do the job because of needing to pull overtime with training at Camp Mabry.ย
And of course, he watches the way his brotherโs truck pulls up into the driveway across the street once Maria is settled in his own. The way his brother rounds the back of it and opens the door for you. The way he dips down to capture your lips in a soft kiss before guiding you into the house.
โLeave them be.โ Maria says the moment he settles in the driverโs seat. โWe didnโt have the most traditional meet cute and neither did they. It happens when it happens.โ
Tommy watches, the energy Joel has and contains different from the beginning of the year.
Joelโs voice swirls around you, filling the space in a comforting and easy way as he rambles on about the things heโs got half done around the garage. The tools heโs got and the ones heโs looked into getting for the shop once he has the room for them, the things heโs excited to try and make.
Youโve got a content smile on your face as you watch him move confidently about the makeshift workshop, the guitars lining the walls that are in various shades of completion, the boards of wood he has stocked and organized on one wall leftover from the renovation he did on your house. Heโs talking you through the guitar in his hand, the details of how he made it and stained it, the bone he hunted down around town in order to make it the most authentic he could.
He's adorable. Heโs insanely attractive and yeah, heโs definitely info dumping but itโs entertaining to hear him speak so much. The passion he has for the whole set up he has and the things he devotes his free time to.
He pauses then, a hand coming up to the back of his neck as he realizes you havenโt said anything in nearly ten minutes. He opens his mouth to apologize but you walk up into his personal space and wrap your hands around his ribs. You lean in and press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, pulling back a bit to whisper the words โshow meโ and nod over to the guitar he set back down on the work table.
He dips his head kiss you deeply, one hand palming the small of your back while the other tilts your chin up.
โYouโre too good to me, lettinโ me ramble on.โ His eyes find yours and theyโre so soft. You feel your stomach swoop, and you twirl your freshly done nails into the hair just beginning to curl at his neck.
โI could listen to you talk all day long, Mr. Miller.โ His fingers pinch your chin a little tighter, his nose brushing against yours as he hovers so, impossibly close.
โToo good to be true.โ His voice vibrates in your chest, lips ghosting yours before they press firmly once again.
โJo-el! You sing song, walking into the trailer with a tray of to go coffee cups. But you stop dead in your tracks when you see Tommy sitting at the desk instead of your favored Miller brother. Your entire body breaks out in a sweat, nerves and anxiety brewing together in a nauseating way. He doesnโt like you and he isnโt safe, your mind repeats like a warning siren. You feel it heavy in your middle, face falling and you go to walk right back out. โSorry, I-IโฆI didnโt know you were in here, he said he would be here already. Iโll just go wait in my car.โ
โYou donโt have to-โ Tommy stands quickly from the chair, the legs scraping against the linoleum of the trailerโs floor. You startle, the tray in your hand jerking and coffee stains the outside of the cups where it bubbles over. When he rounds the desk and goes to reach for it with a steady hand, the whole tray drops before his fingers can even skim it.
The door is slamming as he looks up from the mess of cream and coffee that leaks from the crumpled tray and popped open cups. It bounces off the frame, flying back open from the momentum for him to have a view of the job site. Your loose hair bounces as you practically sprint to your car, scrambling to get back inside. The engine turns over and youโre gone in the blink of an eye.
โWell shit.โ He looks back down at the expanding puddle of coffee to see three separate cups before he looks for something to clean it up with.
Joel walks in just as heโs tossing the last bit of sopping paper towels into the trash bin. The stinging scent of coffee turned acidic, and disinfectants permeate the air despite the propped open door.
โGreyโs not here yet? She texted just a bit ago, was askinโ after your coffee order.โ He takes a shiny key ring out of his back pocket and hands it
โShe uh- I think I spooked her.โ
โWhat?โ He yanks his hand back just before Tommy can slip his ringers around the offering.
โShe, wellโฆshe came in here all happy and singinโ after you but then she saw me and just froze.โ
โWhat did you say to her?โ His tone boasts the seriousness of his question, not that he thinks Tommy would lie to him.
โNothinโ, I swear to you. Iโm being open minded here, just like I said.โ
โShe donโt do too well with hostility. Tore me a new one when I approached her that way a while back, a misunderstanding thatโฆdoesnโt matter now. But with her past, she avoids confrontations. If someone outwardly dislikes her, she avoids them, self-preservation.โ
โI wasnโt beinโ hostile. I was trying to talk to her.โ
โDid you reach for her?โ
โFor the coffee tray in her hand.โ Joel rubs a palm over his face, covering his eyes and over his pinched brow.
โShe doesnโt like people touchinโ her.โ Itโs all he has to say for Tommy to understand. Shared trauma making for sympathy and empathy where others would see weirdness. He's quiet as Joel busies himself with his phone to check on you while he fills out the paperwork drawn up for him to begin working underneath the new business head that is Miller Construction.
Once it's all said and done, Joel assures the younger man that you're okay. They both move in flawless tandem as they set about installing the electrical and power lines throughout the inner walls of the shop.
Ending the day at a diner and laughing over stupid events from past jobs.
โSo my friend who I was in LA to help,โ You break the easy morning from your spot at the stove. You pause to stir in a handful of herbs, salt and pepper into the pan youโve got over the fire. Joel stills where he inspects space where your dishwasher normally sit snug underneath the counter. You feel his eyes on your back, taking in the way your muscles move as you expertly flip the content of the pan with a smooth jerk of your arm. โHeโs gonna be coming in a few days to help paint and get the art all up on the walls before the opening, Beau.โ
โThe crew donโt mind pulling some overtime to get it done.โ
โNo, no, itโs okay, really.โ You shut off the burner and serve up the contents of the pan between two plates waiting on the counter. When you turn around, heโs putting the wrench in his hand back into the toolbox and begins to wipe off his hands with the rag hanging from his back pocket. โHe wants to help and my hands can get a little dirty.โ
You move to the stools on the other side of the island, leaning back into it as you set the plates down with a pair of forks. Pulling the wooden cady that houses the collection of hot sauces and condiments closer to put a few dashes of one of them over your scramble.
โWhatever you want, just wanted to make sure.โ
โBesides, I want the guys to enjoy their time off until work starts on the shopfront.โ You smile over at Joel as he glances over the manual for the dishwasher on the floor, pulling out the tools heโll need for the next bit of work it requires. Once heโs done that, he wipes his hands again before standing up straight.
โIโve got an eye on a couple used cars,โ He says after he refills his designated owl mug, reaching to top off the one in your loose grasp. Youโre about to get up when your nose crinkles at a small spasm in your back, but Joel is there with a soothing hand up and down it as he pours your preferred creamer into the mug as well. โYou okay, sweetheart?โ
โJust sat weird yesterday, long session on someoneโs calves.โ You lean into him a bit more, his other hand reaching underneath the hem of your baggy band shirt to gently prod around the scar on your side. You sigh at the warmth stemming from him, like a personal heating pad.
โCan help out some tiger balm or somethinโ on, if you need to me.โ
โI gotta shower after this, especially if weโre gonna go to a dealership.โ You recall the last time his hands were on you, recall the way you touched yourself just an hour ago to the memory of panting bodies and reverent hands exploring each other to find a slow, drawn out release underneath your sheets. Tension slowly builds in the room as you both seem to be consumed by the same memories of that hotel room. A shared experience that hasnโt happened since- both of you so busy, so committed to taking it slow and not pushing the other. But you hope, you wish, that youโre not the only one with it on your mind.
The easy intimacy and domesticity you both share heady and comforting in its own way, butโฆyou hope that he too, is thinking about the other things you share. The attraction, the wanting, the desire, the arousal that courses dully through your body now. You reach for his other hand and bring it up to place a kiss on his palm and you hear his breath catch in his throat.
โWas gonna ask you, yeah. Noticed thereโs nothing on the calendar for today but wasnโt sure if you were up to personal stuff or gonna have a lazy day.โ He swallows hard, his words a little breathless as slowly entangles from you to return the creamer to the fridge. He takes the stool beside you and gives you a crooked smile as he begins to dig into the breakfast in front of him. โNo pressure though, I know we agreed on Christmas.โ
โI still think itโs the best time. That way we can enjoy the day and still have her graduation party without her wanting to rush off and enjoy her new wheels.โ
โSheโs gonna be a menace, finally havinโ a car to get around in.โ
โIsโฆis there a reason why youโve both waited this long? She hasnโt exactly been begging for one from what Iโve seen.โ
Heโs quiet for a long moment, the both of you taking bites of the meal and sipping the cooling coffee. Its not uncomfortable, but you know his mind is working overtime as he thinks over your question. Youโre about to reassure him itโs none of your business and you were merely curious when he lowers his fork and turns to you with an open expression.
โWe, uhโฆweโve talked it through before but she doesnโt push this. The last time she had the freedom of a car, wellโฆyouโve seen the scar on her arm.โ
โAccident?โ
โYes and no.โ Joel brings a hand to caress gently over your back again, staying politely over the fabric of your shirt. โShe didnโt have the easiest upbringing, momma got sick when she was young. Friend of her momโs took her in but wasnโt the best caretaker, then she was in the system for a long while.โ
โSheโs excited to cover it up, but she hasnโt really talked about it.โ
โDoesnโt like to. Which I get.โ He spins his fork in the food, thinking over his next words. You wait patiently, knowing that he doesnโt want to betray the young girl but still wants to share with you details of their past. โHydroplaned after a summer storm right out of high school, wrapped around a tree. She confessed to me after everythinโ that she deliberately dragged her arm over the smoking engine to cover up the scar she had there from her last foster home.โ
โFoster parents?โ
โFight between her and another kid the family took in. Too many of them and too little space, wasnโt a good environment for anyone. Said she didnโt want to see it anymore and be reminded of that part of her life.โ
โSheโs so lucky to have you, Joel.โ You wrap your arms around his shoulders as you stand, pressing a kiss to his temple before taking the empty plate from him and stacking it with your own.
โLucky to have her, sweetheart.โ
The invitation to Ellieโs graduation is hand delivered by her one evening, driven over to your house by Joel just as youโre removing dinner from the oven. He texted to let you know that they would be by this evening and you planned to have something ready for them. Itโs a lively evening, going over the plans for what would be best for everyone. A simple backyard barbeque is agreed upon.
Itโs a blur of graduation caps and robes, of balloons and cheers as her class walks one by one across the stage. When her name is called, all three of your little group jump up and shout out for her. Her big, toothy smile one of the best sights youโve seen in your entire life as she raises her diploma in one hand high into the air and proceeds to stick her tongue out and raise the other in a โrock and roleโ gesture.
Everyone is animated as you wind through the crowd back to Joelโs truck and then through traffic back to their house.
Your parents, Tommy and Maria, and Beau along with his boyfriend have transformed the backyard into the perfect party set up.
Itโs chaotic, but in a good way. Music playing and the grill sizzling. Splashes of the pool being enjoyed and the hum of conversations fill the backyard. Ellie nearly lost her head when she saw the dinosaur pinata that you and your mom hunted down for her. Her small group of friends and Sarah enthusiastically taking turns pummeling it with a bat while Joel carefully watched the scene play out. None of them argued it was too childish and the surprise of it was accepted just as she is, bringing a warm feeling in your chest.
You reach into the fridge for another case of beer when you hear footsteps and then the sliding of the screen door that leads into the yard. Tommyโs voice calls out as he enters the kitchen and you do your best to still your racing heart.
โGrey, you got a minute?โ He clears his throat, voice a little low. The younger Miller brother looks a little nervous, but thereโs a determined glint in his eyes and you only hope it guides the conversation in a positive direction rather than a bad one. You know heโs been working alongside Joel, tacking on hours nearly every day. Youโve approved two or three checks now to deposit into an account with his name alongside the others of the crew. ย
โOh, of course. Whatโs on your mind?โ You wonder for a brief moment if there was something wrong with the latest one, but you truly didnโt expect the next words that leave his lips as he crosses his arms and holds your gaze over the counter.
โI wanted to apologize.โ Just as your mouth opens to protest, he continues on.
โI know we didnโt get off on the right foot, me beinโ protective of Joel and then the wholeโฆcoffee incident. But youโreโฆyouโre a really amazinโ person, youโve done a lot for your parents and my own family.โ
โTommy, you donโt have to thank me, really.โ You toy with the flaps of carboard that keep the case of beer sealed, the undivided attention making you a little nervous even if it turns out it was with good intentions.
โI do, becauseโฆI ainโt ever seen Joel so happy. He deserves to be happy. You both do, no matter how it happens.โ
โHe makes me happy too,โ You confess with a small smile, allowing yourself to take the moment for what it is and not read anything into it. Because itโs true and you shouldnโt feel any shame for finding good in the things youโve surrounded yourself with.
โI was thinking of a deep green here, black and gold accents. Maybe a few couches here? The desk should be big enough for Alice to have a good system of a desktop, printerโฆwhatever else she wants too.โ You turn with your arms wide and wrists flicking this way and that as you work out your thoughts for the space. โI would like to put in a little coffee bar here even though I know that caffeine is technically โbadโ right before a tattoo but for after or those just stopping by to look or for consultations. One of those vintage mini fridges for other drinks and cold snacks.โ
The walls have just gone up, after the electrical and the subfloor ready for the hardwood flooring you poured over countless catalogues to pick out.
The sound of a car pulling up outside has you and Joel both turning to face the large windows on both sides of the door. Before he can even register youโve moved, youโre out through it and launching yourself at the man whoโs just shut the driverโs side door. Joel recognizes him from the photos you showed him of your time in LA after he left, chest tightening at the easy way you wrap your arms around the manโs neck and give him a chaste peck on the lips.
Your laughter is like music in the warm air, projected far as youโre spun around in the manโs tight hold.
โBaby, you look amazing,โ He laughs along with you, setting you back down from where he lifted you but not releasing his hands from around your waist. Green eyes catching the light as he glances up and behind you toward Joel approaching the opening where a door will eventually go. โOh, hello there, you must be the one and only Joel Miller!โ
โJoel!โ You turn to dazzle him with a bright smile and his stomach flutters as you bounce back to him and wrap both your arms around his left one. โThis is Beau, heโs here to help in anyway you can put him to work with the painting.โ
โNice to meet you, how was your flight?โ
โGood god, your voice is like honey with that drawl. Baby, why didnโt you tell me his accent is as gorgeous as he is?โ
Joel feels heat flare behind his cheeks, free hand moving to the back of his neck in his tell tale sign of nerves. When he glances down at you, heโs got all of your attention. Eyes roving over his face and catching on the plush of his lips as he rolls them, not quite sure what to say in response to the compliment.
โOh, stop it, heโs just youโre regular ole Texan. Kinda comes with the environment.โ
โYou know,โ Beau narrows his eyes and points a finger directly at you. It stirs something in Joel and the arm in your grasp tenses, the other coming to wrist over one of your hands wrapped around him. โYou got a little of that twang now that Iโm hearing you.โ
โOh, fuck off.โ You press closer to Joel, resting your chin on his shoulder, looking up at him with an almost pleading expression. โI donโt have an accent, do I?โ
โDunno, darlinโ. You tend to slur the end of your words when youโre tired. Vowels are kinda stretched too sometimes.โ
โSee, Joel agrees with me. Youโre turning into a regular ole Texan, yourself, baby.โ
โOkay, Mr. West Coast who doesnโt pronounce the โtโs in anything.โ
He gasps dramatically, holding up a hand to his chest in mock affront.
โI thought we were friends, why you gotta do me like that?โ Sticking your tongue out at him, you revel in how light you feel, how normal this all feels. This is your life, the one you created out of nothing, out of an abrupt new beginning and you couldnโt be more happy.
โCause you started it, and if I know one thing about this one here,โ Joel jostles you, settling into the dynamic now that his shock has worn off. โYou give her an inch and she takes the whole damn mile.โ
โYeah, but she deserves whatever she decides to take.โ ย Beauโs look softens a little as he watches the way you dip your head and Joelโs hand tightens around yours as he murmurs his agreement.
A few hours go by, both men listening to you explain where you want what colors and then all three of you get to work. The primer goes on and Tommy brings by lunch from a local pizza place about halfway through. You greet him with a shy smile and a little wave as he pulls up outside, where you took a moment to retrieve something from your carโs trunk.
โWell, hey there.โ He smiles back at you, a little hesitant himself. โHowโs it all lookinโ so far? Everything you wanted it to be.โ
โItโs amazing, honestly. Everyone has been so gracious and the attention to detail is really appreciated.โ
You walk alongside him back to the propped open door, everyone greeting him easily as the boxes are opened and the beer is popped open. Ever since the party, youโve both been able to engage with each other on friendlier terms. Both of you trying to overcome the weird beginnings and moving forward. A friendship is slowly developing between you two, similar music tastes, the conversation of a memorial tattoo that youโve begun to sketch out for when heโs ready to commit to it fully.
It's proven as much now as all four of you toss banter back and forth as the primer gives way testing the colors on each wall in small squares to determine where each one looks best. Splotches land on clothes and clump in tied up hair. Tommy has a handprint on his shoulder from where you got him back for sprinkling some across your face when he loaded too much on a roller brush.
It isnโt until later that Joel realizes just how unprofessional it was to be so physical with you in front of your friend. He thinks over the moment, again and again. Startled to realize that he hadnโt overthought any of the interactions, everything had been so natural. From the easy, teasing banter, to not tensing as you wrapped your arms around him or worrying about how it might look when he did the same.
Your friend has an easy-going energy, likable and friendly. Interaction like breathing for you and as an extension for him as well, because youโre so comfortable around the man. But he knows that the man must see what others do, what outsiders do. You doting on him, helping him in a way he didnโt know he needed and heโs just- heโs just an old man taking the attention like itโs something he deserves, like its something he hasnโt had in a long time.
The dynamic still weighs on him, even if you assure him time and time again that you donโt care what others think. The hotel room, the other day in your bedroom, all of it flashes behind his closed eyes when heโs lying down for bed or just walking up in the morning and he wants more of it, more of that, more of you. But he also sees the way your first interaction with Tommy went, can picture clearly the second one he wasnโt a direct witness to- you have trouble sometimes. And he suspects that youโre worried about upsetting his brother more than you let on, though youย try to mend the bridge of a bad first impression.
Maria likes you, flocked to you as you help her to make lists and organize doctor appointments that are increasing. The two of you frequenting lunch and movie theatres to spend time with each other, a connection that brings out your friendly and caring side. Another thing that could catch fire if either of you overstep or move too fast, another thing that could fall apart should you both become too obvious in your affections with each other and it doesnโt turn out to be a lasting connection.
His thoughts consume him, the ones that tell him heโs not good enough, attractive enough, just not enough in general to keep your attention much beyond a the flawless working relationship you two have cultivated since the summer. His friends can sense the shift in him, the two men whoโs bar he frequents and his family senses it all the same- even if no one voices it. He doesnโt want to feel the way he did after his marriage ended, ever again. He voices all of his concerns in therapy, the twice monthly appointment heโs been unwilling to put down in the shared calendar.
The ultimate truth of the matter is that you consume his thoughts, and he worries he doesnโt hold as much space in yours. Even if youโve integrated into a lot of aspects of his life willingly and carefully.
Joelsโ been a little on edge lately, most likely due to the time constraints that are bearing down on him to get things finished for the grand opening of the shop. Heโs been at the location more and more, signing for delivers, helping Alice to set up the lobby the way she wants, helping to get things hung up and fixtures installed for the bathroom and required sinks within the actual studio space required by law.
But today, the day before Christmas Eve, you two are braving the local outdoor outlet. The shops crowded and everyone is in a frenzy for last minute shopping. He hadnโt wanted to go particularly and neither did you. Thankfully the higher end shops are less so, the sales associates more accommodating and present.
Joelโs got a handful of nice jeans and slacks in his hand when he announced that heโs about ready to start trying things on.
โOkay, Plato.โ You roll your eyes as your guide him by the shoulders toward the dressing room. โLetโs go see how these ones look before we pick up anything else.โ
โI ainโt no philosopher, donโt call me that.โ He gripes good naturally, no heat behind his words despite the way he tenses slightly under your palms. You look around and you get the sense that heโs a little nervous about being so plainly in public. Of touching so plainly in public. With you.
โIโm not makinโ fun of you, Joel. Iโm complimenting you.โ You lean up on the tips of your toes to whisper in his ear. โPlato meanโs โbroad shoulderedโ.โ
He jolts, the tips of his hears tinge pink and the column of his neck flushes as he steps from away from you. A figure breezes by, going back toward the sales floor just as you two cross over into the dressing rooms at the back of the store. Your hands slide down and trail over his shoulder blades at the action, but heโs completely tense now, no more playfulness about him.
โWhat?โ You ask with a tilt of your head, hands held up and away from him. Confusion flares, concern fills your face. Guilt consumes you, you shouldnโt have been so forward. โI was only teasing, Iโm sorry.โ
โI think-โ He doesnโt look up from where he puts the items in his hands down on the return rack, though he does pivot on his feet and his profile comes into view. His eyes are pinched, mouth a firm line that makes your stomach clench and your chest hurt. โI think Iโm just gonna go, donโt feel much like playinโ right now.โ
โO-oh, okay.โ Your words are quiet, voice strained as you try to muster up a smile that you know looks more like a grimace. But he doesnโt look at you, not even over his shoulder in a quick glance.
โSorry for dragginโ you out of the house, darlinโ.โ And then heโs gone, his steps thudding on the tile as he weaves his way through the racks and displays throughout the store.
You just stand there, feeling thoroughly lectured and told to go stand in the corner, ears hot and hands tingling. You apologize to the sales associates on your way out, thanking them for their help and wish them a good day. You drive home in complete silence, completely spaced out and on autopilot.
Your mind focuses once you stop at the intersection that leads into your neighborhood, your light turns green and you accelerate. All of a sudden, your head is fuzzy once again as your car lurches, glass shatters and metal screeches.
Do you want us to call anyone?
No.
Are you sure? We called 911, theyโre on the way.
Iโmโฆsureโฆ
Family, a partner, kids, a friend? You sure?
No calls.
Someone to meet you at the hospital?
No.
Itโs warped, the memory, but you know it happened. The beep of the monitor beside you and the stick of the IV port in your arm tell you as much even as you slowly come to. Your phone lies beside you where the tray for you bed is pushed off to the side. The screen is cracked underneath the splintered screen protector. Sighing, you slump back into the pillows keeping you propped up.
You know your parentsโ numbers by heart, but you donโt want to worry them even now. Instead, you hit the call button for the nurse set atop the covers over your lap. Youโre a little groggy and your body feels so sore from even that small movement.
โHello, hello, welcome back to the land of the living!โ The nurse is younger than you but something about her makes you feel at ease. Thereโs no judgment or banality in her expression, she enjoys her job- helping people. You can feel it in the way sheโs trying to lighten your mood as you watch her with tired eyes.
โI dunno, hospitals are kinda like small scale hells.โ She laughs at the deadpan tone of your voice.
โDonโt have to tell me twice, how are you feeling, honey? Do you need another shot for the pain?โ Her hands are light but sure as she goes about taking your vitals.
โI think Iโm okay right now, is anything broken? Itโs a little hard to move.โ Your back twinges as you hold up your arm for her to slip the blood pressure cuff over it.
โNo, no, just your muscles being strained from the impact. Took a pretty hard hit, I hear?โ She doesnโt make you raise your arm to remove the cuff, instead sliding it carefully from around your arm, she mustโve noticed the wince in your face.
โSomeone ran a light.โ You say, trying to keep your breathing as even as normal for her as she now presses the stethoscope to your front and then your back as she carefully urges you forward. The hospital gown in thin and you shiver a little as it pairs with the metal. She smiles kindly at you as she helps you lay back against the pillows.
โProbably rushing around to get ready for the holiday. All sense goes out the window this time of the year, but youโre gonna be okay. The doctors will be in soon to go over everything and get you discharged.โ She signs off on the chart hanging off the foot of your bed and then sheโs gone. She leaves the door open a bit behind her.
Closing your eyes, you take a moment to just be. The worries of finding your car, potentially getting a new one, the items you had stored in it, the registration, how youโre going to get home, if youโre going to tell anyone after everything is all cleared for you to leave, all of it hovers in the back of your head. But you donโt let it bother you at the moment, you just take mental stock of your body and how it feels. Itโs nowhere near as detrimental as the last time you laid in a hospital bedโฆand for that youโre grateful.
โGuess who forgot to change their emergency contact?โ
Your head flies up, eyes wide and breath catching in your throat. Your ex-husband is standing in the doorway with a sickening smirk.
Returning to this story is such a warm hug! Always love the easygoing domesticity that normally doesnโt frequent our beloved Joel in stories! My angsty loving heart was shocked but also very intrigued with this ending!! Iโll be curious to see if Joel can explain himself with that hasty departure and defend our mc in case things go down between her and the ex ๐
This was written for @penvisions Give a Little Love writing challenge. I'm so late, I'm sorry! My prompt was Din Djarin and the Shared Past trope.
Summary: You wake up wounded in the Mandalorian's ship. He brings you back on Nevarro to heal. Trying to hide parts of your past, you battle with your growing feelings for the man and his child, who welcomed you into their home.
CW: mention of torture but nothing graphic, mention of wounds and broken bones but no description, mention of healing process, light angst, slow burn. Reader is abled body has no physical description, but if you notice anything please let me know.
A/N: This wasn't easy to write, I think writing in the Star Wars universe intimidated me a lot, I tried to be accurate but some stuff might have slipped my mind. All mistakes are my own. I would like to thank a few of you who helped me: @burntheedges & @secretelephanttattoo (you might not even remember it but I'm still hugging you for your encouragement) @iknowisoundcrazy you know exactly why & @djarins-cyare for the mando'a translation, for your encouragement and also for your Be-All And Endor that inspired me so much. And finally, thank you @eupheme for the beautiful moodbard you made me. To all of you, thanks ๐
More notes at the end
I wrote a short sequel: Stars are Fire
I'm always happy for comments and/or reblogs, so please don't be shy !
Main masterlist | Read on AO3
Dividers by @/saradika-graphics
Your head felt heavy and foggy. Emerging from the depths of unconsciousness, you didn't know where you were.
ยซ Who are you? ยป A voice. You couldn't tell right away where, who, or what it came from. It sounded computer-like. You turned your head and saw a form, shiny, metallic. You couldnโt see more, eyes still blurry, brain banging inside your skull. But your annoyance with the question was very real.
ยซ What? Who areย you? ยป
The voice didnโt answer. But you could make more of the shape. A human form, an armor, the voice masculine, filtered by a modulator, a helmet. A Mandalorian.ย Shit. You were in trouble.
ยซ How do you know my name? ยป His next question stopped your train of thought. You frowned. The pounding in your head grew louder, more painful.
ยซ I didnโtโฆ I donโt know your name, I donโt know who you are. ยป Silence again. Now that your eyes had adapted to the semi-darkness, you could make out his stature, the way he leaned on a wall. A head tilt, questioning.ย Not a chattyย person. Taking in more of your environment, you realized you were lying down, head propped, on what looked like a makeshift bed, you couldn't make more of the place you were in.
ยซ Where am I?ยป You tried not to show your fear, but you could feel it bleed out in the quiver of your voice.
ยซ On my ship. You were hurt. ยป
"What? I need to goโฆ" You tried to get up, to leave, you had to go, but it hurt everywhere. Head spinning, the blood drained from your upper body, and darkness surrounded you. Before you succumbed to it, you heard the voice "Don't get up, you're badlyโฆ"
And then nothing.
The next time you woke up, it was harsh. Light blinding, noise banging in your head. A cool hand on your arm, a sting and blackness, again.
The rest was a blur. In a state of barely consciousness, you felt like you were gliding through time. Awake, the surroundings changing. Asleep, dreaming, or drifting.ย
Another time, you woke to the sound of voices, muffled, modulated. Room in the darkness and hushed tones further away.
"She's been through a lot, those injuries..."ย
"How long..."ย
"I can take her to the medcenter..."ย
"No, that's not what I'm asking, she can stay here..." And you drifted back into oblivion.
And then you were awake. It was sudden, you felt doozy, but conscious. Eyes closed, you listened to your surroundings, trying to gather your thoughts. You opened your eyes, but it hurt, so you closed them again. You let your mind scan your body. It was whole, every limb was accounted for, and apart from the headache, nothing else hurt. Softness surrounded you, fluffy mattress and soft sheets around your body.
Then a sound, like little feet pounding on the ground, a thump like something small jumped on the bed you were sleeping in. An animal? But the small voice that cooed sounded more like a child. It was shuffling closer to you. You opened your eyes again, tentatively, and glimpsed a small form, green, with large ears and brown eyes, that bore into you, curious and worried. You couldn't help the smile on your face.ย
"Hey, little one, who are you?"ย
A sigh and a modulated voice came from further away.
"Grogu, let her rest."
You turned your head to the voice. The Mandalorian, the one from before, was standing at the doorway, and the little one, Grogu, apparently, babbled excitedly, something you didn't understand, arms extended toward the man. He walked in and picked up the small creature that instantly snuggled into the arms holding him. You had so many questions just from this small interaction, but first, you needed to know where you were. Before you could ask, the armored man spoke.
"You are in my house, on Nevarro. You refused to go to a medcenter; you were very adamant about that. Do you remember ?" You shook your head, the motion bringing a soreness in your head, and you knew your face showed it because he sighed and added, "You need to rest. Don't worry about anything, you're safe". You wanted to talk more, ask all those questions that were bustling in your brain, but exhaustion overcame you, and you felt your eyes shut, the warmth of the bed and the weariness of your body letting sleep overtake you.
The room was quiet, the house dark. You felt the need to use the 'fresher all of a sudden. A quick mental check of your body told you all your bones were healed, and nothing, not even your head hurt. You slowly sat up, one tentative foot after the other on the ground. Everything seemed to work. You were kept in that cell so long, bones barely mended that it was like a new sensation, not to hurt, no pain, just weariness of the body. Standing up and one small step after the other, you managed to get out of the room. You felt slightly weak but not too much. You were probably fed and changed during your stay. You imagined you had slept for at least a few days.
"You shouldn't be up." The voice startled you, and you almost fell, but two hands gripped you tightly, without hurting you, keeping you upright.
"I need to use the 'fresher." Without a word, the Mandalorian guided you to it.
When you were done, he helped you back to bed and brought you some water. No words, just small acts that made you feel safe. You should be wary, you knew Mandolarians, you'd been around them enough to know how deadly they could be. Especially his type, if your suspicions were correct.
"How long have I been here?"ย
"Three days. The doctor came twice a day to take care of you. He says you had old injuries that didn't mend right. He took care of it. But you might need more time." This felt like the most you'd heard him speak. The modulation was soothing, something from your past that always brought comfort.
After a beat of silence, he added. "You said my name before you lost consciousness. Do you remember?"
"You mentioned that before. Are you sure? I don't know you, have never seen โฆ" Behind your unfinished sentence lingered a question you didn't voice: "Do you know me?" A shake of his head brought relief. He didn't know you, but you were safe.
Instead of dwelling on the matter, he embarked on another subject.
"When I found you, you were hurt but outside your cell..."ย His hesitancy made you interrupt him.
"I was running away, your intervention was what I needed to try to escape."ย
There was a beat of silence as he was trying to find the right question to ask.
"How long were you held captive?"ย
"When are we?" At his answer, you did a quick calculation." About 8 months."ย
"Why were you captive?"ย His questions were measured and straight to the point.
"Why? You want to bring me in? You're a bounty hunter, aren't you?"ย
"I don't have a quarry on you." That seemed to be enough for him to settle the matter. It wasn't for you, but you knew he would feel less wary of you if he had all the information. At least part of it. You settled into telling him the reason you were captive.
"The person you were here for, he didn't appreciate my thieving skills."ย
"You stole from him?"ย
"Let's say I took what he had stolen in the first place and gave it back to the people it belonged to. He was enriching himself and stealing the resources of the inhabitants of that planet. I just wanted to help. But got caught after a while."ย
At your confession, there was a slight pause. The Mandalorian didn't give much, you couldn't see his face, and his posture was calculated to give little tell. But you'd been enough of his kind to know he was hesitating and about to ask another question, a difficult one.
"Did he... did he hurt you in other ways than what the doctor saw?"ย You understood what he meant.
"No. No, just light torture here and there. It happened less recently, he forgot about me. I was entertainment when he had receptions."ย
You could tell he wanted to ask what type of entertainment, but you were happy he didn't press further. You didn't feel ready to talk about it now.
He stayed quiet, his helmet tilted toward you, his gaze searching even through the beskar. You didn't speak, studying his countenance.ย
You had so many questions. What were you going to do? When should you leave? Where would you go? It started to feel overwhelming, yet his steady presence grounded you. You only voiced one question, one you didn't even have to finish.
"Did you bring him...?"ย
"I brought him cold." The finality of his statement took away the weight you still had on your chest.
"Good."ย
As if satisfied by this, his search over, he started to leave you, but just before he added, "You can stay as long as you need."ย
"I don't want to impose." Your protest was barely out.
"You are not. Besides, Grogu likes you. We can talk more in the morning."ย
And with this, he left, and you surrendered to slumber.
The next few days passed in a daze. You felt yourself heal slowly. Heal from your past injuries, but also from the running around of the past years. You rarely settled anywhere for more than a couple of years. And while young, it was exciting, growing older, it got tiring. You knew you couldn't stay here, that eventually you would have to leave and start the cycle of moving again. But this forced rest helped you recharge. Mando, as he asked you to call him, never pressured you to leave. He inquired after your health in a way that showed it wasn't urgent but caring, going about his daily business around you as if it always were like this.
Your routine evolved, from getting out of bed only a few minutes at a time, long stretches of sleep in between, to staying up for hours, walking outside, and playing with Grogu.
Those quiet moments brought you too much joy and comfort. A sense of ease and belonging you shouldn't feel.
And so you settled comfortably. Way too comfortably in the presence of a Mandalorian, you knew his kind, the faceless and nameless Mandalorians, and of their creed. You should have been guarded. But instead, you felt safe. And you slipped, giving access to parts of yourself you didn't want to. Apart from jobs you did, your approximate age, and the name you gave yourself when your new life began almost two decades ago, you started giving more. Things from your past that you didn't want anyone to know, places you'd seen, people you met, and a small knowledge of his culture.
You felt his caution slip, day after day. As welcoming as he was, he always seemed guarded in the first few days. Never bringing back the fact that you apparently called him by his real name on your first encounter, something you didn't remember and barely believed. Studying you as you moved around, trying to understand you, deciphering your every move and word.
But eventually trusting you with, you soon realized was like his son, a quick explanation giving little details of you, they became a clan, one you didn't need, being very well aware of the necessity of foundlings in the Mandalorian culture, one of your first blunders. One he noticed but let pass, probably storing it somewhere in his brain for later.
And then it was trusting you with himself. Shedding some pieces of his armor, being more at ease in his own house, walking around in his flight suit and helmet. You even notice his gloves off more and more.ย Which sometimes meant you could graze his skin when you passed objects, Grogu's toys, a glass of water, a mug of caf. Light touch that brought tingle and warmth.
And as you got better and better, as you were able to stay up longer, you both evolved to spending evenings together, quiet moments of reflection and discussion, ones that seem like old friends when you forgot that none of you actually talked about your past, of certain parts of your situation. But you managed to talk about parts of the galaxy, as you are both very well-traveled, about Grogu, about your days.
And you learned to respect him, and, if you were honest, even admire him. His devotion to his son, to his tribe, creed, even if he didn't talk about it much. It was something you always respected and admired. But his steadiness, his skills and unaffected intelligence, his quiet presence, all of it turned your admiration to something more. Something that made you feel warm in his presence. Something you hoped would stop once you leave.
So you started talking about finding a job, here or elsewhere, Mando telling you he could talk around if you wanted to stay, and you accepted, startled to realize you wanted to put roots here.
One day, as you were playing with Grogu, about a month after your arrived, letting a ball roll between the two of you, him catching it, squealing with delight and tossing it back at you, with a precision you fond uncanny for a child his age (even if he was over 50, you still couldn't wrap your head around that fact). The game was starting to tire out Grogu, who showed signs of boredom and started looking for something else to play with. As you were getting up, you absentmindedly talked to him, never sure he understood, but his eyes, always expressive, showed signs he might, so you continued.
" Grogu, when do you think you're Buir is coming back?"ย
"What did you say?" Mando was standing by the door to the living quarters, his stature looming over you, still like a statue. You could feel how dangerous he was. Not that you didn't know it, but you sometimes forgot.
"Kriff, you scared me. I didn't hear you come in." You were stalling, you knew it, and he knew it.
"That word, how did you know it?"ย His tone was not menacing, but not kind either.
"I've traveled, you are not the first Mandalorian I've met." You tried to look innocent and added, "although I haven't seen a Children of the Watch in a long time." That was a mistake you realized as soon as it left your mouth, still tired or too comfortable with him. He came closer, wide and menacing. Your brain screamed danger.
"How do...?"ย
"I told you. I traveled." You brushed it off and quickly turned to Grogu, who had been watching the exchange with some worry, busying yourself with putting toys away and talking about dinner.
You could feel Mando watching you, searching, trying to see the truth and lies. But eventually his countenance changed to slightly more relaxed.
"Greef Karga, the magistrate, mentioned there might be some work for you. If you still want to stay. You don't have to leave right away, but..." Again, you interrupted him.
"That's fine, I'm feeling much better, might as well get a job and find a place to live." You knew you needed to go. Too many mistakes were made, and you are feeling attached too much. To Grogu, yes, but also to Mando, if you stopped lying to yourself.
He looked at you like he wanted to say something. But instead, you heard a sigh, frustration, or regret, it was hard to tell.
The next day, walking to the city for the first time, you listened to Mando as he showed you around, taking in the streets, the market, and the people surrounding you. You felt good here, at peace, in this growing community, rebuilding itself from past wounds, a little like yourself.
That's what you got from your exchange with Greef Karga, explaining with grandiloquence the past this planet lived through and the ideas he had for the future. You could envision it, he made compelling arguments. You knew the type, you knew that he was the king to embellish things, just so you would agree with him. But he seemed sincere, and you wanted to believe him. And if Mando brought you to him, you would trust him. Your decision was made on the spot. You would take the job, and you would move into the unit he was offering. You would stay for the community, for what it had to offer, for a glimpse of ease and a sense of belonging you felt. Not for a silent Mandalorian and his child.
That was a lie, but you didn't want to acknowledge it yet.
Life in Nevarro was exactly as you expected it. Quiet, yet bustling, easy, yet interesting. You settled in your small but cozy unit, decorating it, sensing your desire to settle for a bit. Your job was challenging and kept you busy. People were welcoming, and after a month, you realized you actually liked your life here. That, without really deciding it, your thoughts of leaving the planet were slowly being pushed to the background, and you were making plans for the next day, next week, next month. You were staying.
You thought you wouldn't see Mando and Grogu much, no real need for it. While you had stayed at their place, they hadn't been much into the city, their life was further out.
But eventually your path did merge. In town, in the market, at Karga's, more and more. Small talks, longing looks. Walking around the city is comfortable andย easy. You hated it because every time your eyes would see a reflection akin to the sun on beskar, your heart skipped a bit. And when it was actually him, you would feel the butterflies in your stomach.ย And every time, Mando would come to you, walking a small distance together, Grogu stretching his arms so that you would pick him up for a cuddle for the duration of your walk. Walks that got longer and longer.
And then, before you knew it, they were both fully back in your life.
It started with helping out with Grogu, picking him up from school when Mando was late from whatever job he was doing, apparently helping the Marshall. You loved doing it, helping, and spending time with the child. You felt so thankful for the trust Mando gave you. Trusting with his son, but also, you felt it, trusting in you, even with your secrets, like he had decided that whatever your past and knowledge of Mandalorians were, he accepted it and wouldn't push.
And each time, the moments you spent at his place stretched longer. From just waiting until he got home, to staying a bit, to actually having dinner together, that is you and Grogu with Mando at your table, but eating later. Until one night you stayed over because it was late, and he insisted you didn't walk back home. And then you were staying the night more often because you watched on Grogu while Mando was off-world.
It was so easy, you were surprised. It shouldn't be, it always was easy. It was as if you had always been here, part of their little family. And every time you came back to your unit, you felt lonely. This was bad because you were getting attached. You could feel it. And you were afraid Mando was too. It was not something that should have happened.
One night, it slipped into the conversation, this something growing between you. Both of you on the couch talking, Mando in his flight suit and helmet, gloves off, Grogu put to bed, you needing to leave but staying. Talking about work, yours and his, and like a confession, it pours out of his mouth, the word "mesh'la" (beautiful).
The silence that ensued, his from the realization of what he said, yours from the understanding, heat creeping up your neck, it puts weight on the word. And he notices your reaction, of course, he does. The question that comes out of him flusters you even more.
"Have you been. ..?" He stopped, the end of the sentence settling on his tongue but never spilled.
"What?"
"With a Mandalorianโฆ you know so many words."
You pondered your answer. "No. Never."
It was time to go back home.
You woke up suddenly, groggy from sleep as a dream slipped away through your consciousness. Warm hands touching you, cold metal under your own, voice deep and metal-like murmuring in your ear, "Would you look at that," as his lips unraveled you, a feat only possible in the daze of unconsciousness, face masked and unmasked at the same time. You felt the need inside your body, slick and deep. The vision was slowly going away, and you tried to catch it, willing yourself to fall back to sleep, to fall back in those beskar arms that you've wished to feel for so long. You knew it was not possible, even if you felt that sometimes the unnamed feeling was reciprocated, even if you felt his gaze and persistent touches. But how could it be with the secrets that surrounded both of you? Dreams were the only moments where you let yourself feel it, where you let the heat of your desire overtake you. Those dreams that grew more intense whenever you stayed in his house, reminiscing on those first days, weeks, when you observed him in quiet and learned to admire and respect him, before you learned to love him. The scent and feeling were overpowering in this house, your dreams always more intense, like this one you tried desperately to fall back into, cursing whatever woke you up, until you heard it again. A sound, something falling, or banging, it was hard to tell. You jolted awake, a million thoughts running in your head. The more logical, Grogu was awake and full of mischief, the more anxious one, someone had broken into the house. You pushed the fear aside and got up, tiptoeing to the sound, trying to understand what it was.
Walking quietly, you heard heavy breathing as you rounded to the 'fresher and were faced with a sight you didn't expect. Skin. Bronze skin displayed, a naked back, muscle and softness, tan and bruises bent over the sink. You let out a gasp before closing your eyes, before the head turned to you, hiding behind a wall.
"I'm sorry, I didn't see anything! I didn't see your face! I swear, Mando. I'm so sorry," you were pleading, hoping he believed you, because you didn't see anything, just glorious skin that made your own tingle, food for thought, but not his face. Part relief and disappointment, something you pushed aside.
"It's OK, I believe you." The voice was modulated, the helmet back on.
You opened your eyes and peeked inside the 'fresher. He was standing by the sink, armor off, the top of the flight suit pushed back, leaving his upper body naked. You couldn't help but rake your eyes over his body until you noticed more bruises and a wound on his side, gushing and deep.
"Mando! You're hurt!" You rushed to his side, hands ready to help, when you stopped, not wanting to cross another boundary.
"Do you need help?"
The helmet was on you, and you sensed his gaze, searching you, overwhelming as tension settled around you. Then a sigh. "Yes"
Rummaging through the medpac, you got what you needed, pushing Mando to sit on the side of the bath so you could help him better, allowing better access to his body. A wet towel in your hand, you lightly washed the wound. As delicately as you tried, you heard the pain he felt, a whimper, almost like a moan, coming out modulating. A sound that had you flustered, rubbing your legs together, need encompassing you. It was only now that you realized how you were dressed, only a long shirt covering your body to your thighs, both in a state of undress you had never been in each other's presence. The breath you drew as a reaction brought Mando's gaze to you.
In the midst of this realization, it was as if all pretense had fallen. After applying the bacta patch on his wound, you picked up the towel and continued to clean his body, even if there was no real need, except to bring comfort with a cool cloth. Soothing the bruises sustained even through the armor. It must have been a mighty opponent. And hearing his breath heavier and heavier, your own, echoing. Caressing his strong arms, his shoulders, settling on his torso. His hands gripped your hips, and his voice sounded like a warning.
ยซ Cyar'ika. ยป
You breath hitched at the word, and Mando pulled slightly away, head tilted to study your eyes.
You felt his gaze piercing you as his hands on your hip started to stroke you. Hands without gloves. A rare occurrence, the brush of his fingers on you. When you were hurt, once or twice, as you were healing in the comfort of his home, fingers brushing when he handed you something. And now soft fingers gently circling over your shirt.
ยซ You understood that word, didnโt you? ยป
You didnโt say anything. Just looked at him, imagining brown eyes. On instinct.
โTionโcuy gar?โ (Who are you?)
You didnโt answer, just shook your head, not because you didn't understand, but because you couldn't answer, not now. The silence was charged with more than questions, and your hands, now on his shoulder, continue their caress, light strokes on his body. Towel forgotten, so you could feel his skin under your own. You were so close, closer than you ever had been. His fingers boldly went under your shirt, making your breath catch. A slight whimper that made him pull it up slightly, discovering parts of yourself. Skin for skin. A dip of your head and your lips connected with his shoulder, a slight touch, barely a kiss. You wanted to lick his skin, taste the salt on him. Your eyes were drawn to his back, catching something you hadnโt seen earlier, when you caught a glimpse of him. A mark on his shoulder blade, an exploding star, faded and distorted by time and age, but one you knew so well.
And as you realized this, you felt Din's hands freeze on your body, a shock sound coming from his mouth as he surely recognized your own mark, one that looked like a shooting star, on your hipbone. The one you used to joke was a mirror of his, yours before the crash, his after. In a time when helmets and armor werenโt yet put on, they werenโt deserved or won. Before the creed. Before you left.
And both your names echoed in the other's mouth as you push out of each other's arms.ย
The daze of the moment is gone, but there is horror that lies ahead as you run away, run to your room, pulling up clothes, hearing his steps, usually so calm, so silent, now heavy and loud.
Your name, your real name, the old one forgotten when you left, rings out, a whisper, hurt in his voice.
"You were dead."
You stopped, back turned, you didn't want to see his face, even with the helmet, you knew you would feel it, the hurt, the anger.
"I faked it, I ran away."
"Why?" You turned. His voice was cold, mean, you couldn't bear it.
"I couldn'tโฆ I couldn't swear to the creed, so I left." There were no words, there was nothing but a helmet, voiceless, a mask in front of you. You have lost him, you knew it, lost the connection, lost the sense of belonging to this small family. You felt the tears and closed your eyes, willing them to go away. When you opened them, he was gone.
The steps that brought you home, the way back, were blurred in your mind from the overwhelming thoughts and blurred in your vision from the tears, the one falling freely.
It was over.
As you went through the motion of your life the next couple of days, waking, working, eating, poorly sleeping, rinse and repeat. Yet you couldn't help but feel a lingering hope. It oscillated with despair as your life moved in front of your eyes, one you barely participated in, lost in that night. If only it were repeated in a loop. If you had talked sooner, maybe he wouldn't be angry? If you had not helped him, touched him, you might still have his presence, you could live with only that. And as you lost yourself, you thought about what was next, but were unwilling to decide until you saw him again, and hoped that after thinking, he might forgive you and at least talk to you, if only that.
But that thought was crushed. Walking through the market, you saw him, his figure first, giving you butterflies, seeing him with the child buying food. When the purchase was over, his head turned your way, where you stood frozen, people pushing past you. A second that felt like a century, one of suspended hope and dread, one where you forget to breathe, hear, and see. Until he turned and was gone. The cold you felt was real, shivers and weight, surrounding you as you went back to the sanctuary of your home, where you decided to pack and leave.
Nothing held you back in Nevarro, not anymore.
Unfortunately, you had responsibilities. You could just pick up and leave, but you liked it here, liked the people with whom you worked, and you wanted a chance to say thank you and goodbye. So with a lie ready you announced your departure, giving yourself a couple of days to gather your things and find your next place to go to, studying your datapad, with different planets on your radar, ready to buy a one way ticket to a promising place, green and lush and cold, needing the opposite of Nevarro, the opposite of heat and dry, the opposite of metal and warmth.
The bangs on your unit door startled you. Three knocks, decisive, not giving you any second thoughts. You weren't expecting anyone, but you were definitely not expecting Din, as you opened the door in surprise, and when he pushed past you. Standing inside your small space.
You hadn't seen him this agitated, this restless, since you left the Tribe. Before you stood a reminiscence of a teenage Din, the hot head, full of revolt, subdued by time but never tamed. The one you shared your dreams with, your sorrows, your first kiss. He was angry, he was demanding, but he wasn't speaking.
With your back against the closed door behind you, you waited. And you tried not to let the small hope bloom in your chest as soon as you saw him.
"You are leaving. Again. Running away, without owning to your actions." The accusation, the underlying insult of cowardice, crushed the hope but flared the anger. You might have left long ago, you might have forgotten a lot of your Mandalorian upbringing, but you couldn't stand being called a coward. Even if you had fled, even if you were doing it again. Suddenly, resentment made you push away from the door, stride toward him, stand tall and large, looking at him straight into his eyes behind the helmet.
"Yes, I'm leaving. Why would you care?" Daring him to say anything else, after he had turned away from you.
"We welcomed you, we were your family, the Tribe was there when you needed. You betrayed us."His voice was rising with every word, standing in front of you, menacing and dangerous. Everything that wasn't said but didn't need to, echoed in the silence: leaving without saying goodbye, betraying his trust.
"But you weren't! My family died, and I never felt accepted. YOU never felt accepted either. I remember our talks, I remember what we used to say! I couldn't swear to the creed. I respected it. And I respected your own wish to swear, but I couldn't, because I never felt part of it. So I just left."
"You could have said it! They would have understood!"
"They wouldn't! And maybe leaving like I did was wrong, but I was an angry teenager, and my only ally left me when he swore to the creed. I felt abandoned because you were going away, I felt utterly alone, so I just left."
"You left us! You left me." Finally, the words were out. You could feel his anger abating, so did yours.
"I'm sorry. I truly am. I regretted it as soon as I left, but couldn't look back."
"I missed you. I grieved you." He was so close to you, so close you could hear his breath, the tremor in his voice, the sadness. It made your heart break over again.
"I know. I'm sorry." The tears were back, you didn't want to cry because you were the one who inflicted the hurt, but you couldn't help it. "I missed you, too. So much." Closer even now that you could almost touch. An untouched boundary that needed to be stepped over. One Din crossed when his hands pulled you into him.
"Close your eyes." He breathed it like a plea, desperate.
"Dinโฆ" You hesitated, knowing what was about to happen, overwhelmed by the idea, the faith placed in you.
"Do it, Cyar'ika. I trust you."
And so you did. You closed your eyes, the last tears falling from your lashes, down your cheeks, hearing the unmistakable sound of his helmet being taken off and put on the ground. You felt his breath before his touch, then his fingers, lightly brushing the tears away, before you felt his mouth on yours. Lips light, tentative. A second kiss that felt like the first, after so many years. But one that soon felt like home, meant to be, and like no time had flown by, not years, not decades, but merely seconds, as both of you reacquainted yourself with each other. Lips full, tender than demanding, touching, pulling, your teeth grazing his lower lip, a moan coming from so deep inside his throat.
And hands, hands that touched each other, that took off gloves, pieces of armor, and clothes.
In the darkness of your place, shutters closed and drapes blocking light, only shapes that could be seen, you rediscovered his face, under the beskar, his skin under the armor, bodies alight with need and pleasure, shared past and shared breath, to the point of not knowing where you began and ended. Soft cries and gasps and sweet praises murmured in the dark.
Tomorrow, you'd have to reclaim your job, tomorrow, you'd have to think about your future here.
A/N: The sound Din makes when he is hurt is directly inspired by this post and what he murmurs in reader's dream by this one
Read more about Din and his cyare: Stars are Fire
tagglist: I also added people who seemed interested (please let me know if you want to be added/removed) : @grogusmum @here-briefly @iknowisoundcrazyreads @javierpenaismyhusband @mani-pedro @lillaydee @littlemisspascal @harriedandharassed @sunnytuliptime @picketniffler @cuteanimalmama @sawymredfox @baronessvonglitter @milla-frenchy
Iโm trying to get back into reading and started with this fic! I will always read an angsty Din story and this delivered!!! I canโt wait to see the other great stories youโve been writing Cha! ๐
Pedrotober 2025 day 6: Dad in Every Universe ; Joeltober 1/????
Iโve been so excited for this prompt!! One of my favs on the list. ๐ I also have a running bit, how much can I make this challenge about Joel Miller. So thatโs the sub-challenge, Joeltober. Atp Iโm thinking weโve got a minimum of 5 Joel opportunities. Joelportunities if you will.
Pedrotober is month-long daily art challenge hosted by me and alyssamariag predominantly on Instagram!! Follow us there to join the fun๐
tags: (no outbreak) soft!neighbor!joel, competency kink, hand kink, mutual yearning, flirting, use of alcohol, wingman tommy, fingering, oral (f rec), implied PiV
a/n: inspired by tears by sabrina carpenter
โLooks good,โ It comes out rough. Joelโs chin tipping towards your nest of pillows, โYou wanna test it out?โ
His words register in your mind a split second before his. A little laugh slipping from you, just as his back straightens - a hint of pink blooming across his ears.
โChrist. I meant-โ
โYou offering, Joel?โ
(or - your neighbor Joel helps you put together your new bed)
You donโt know how it happened that your neighbor, Joel Miller, has become a fixture in your house over the past three months, but honestly - you couldnโt be more grateful.
Maybe itโs the way you always wiggle your fingers at him in hello. The baked goods youโve left for him and Sarah on their front porch twice, in the same amount of weeks.
How heโd linger - letting you lean on the fence between your yard and his. Picking his brain about different types of wood and stains for the renovations on your new fixer-upper.
Biting back a grin over his distain for particle board, as if you didnโt have an order from IKEA already on the way.
But more than likely, itโs the way he watched you spray-paint the corner of your lawn a pretty shade of pink, during your most recent planter upcycle.
Youโll take any of them. Anything that will steal you a couple minutes with the handsome man next door.
Not one of many words, but youโve watched the way he stands on his porch each morning, waiting until his daughter turns at the end of the street, before he heads back inside.
Sweet, deep down. Something that makes you smile often. Letting the effect he has on you simmer beneath your skin. Butterflies, at the thought of running into him on your daily walk.
At the coffee shop, the next block over.
Heโs someone youโd certainly like to know more.
And you spend your night - that space of time when youโre on the edge of sleep - hoping he feels the same.
Today the packages were barely on your porch, before he was hefting one over his shoulder - helping you bring them inside.
Waving off your protests as his eyes had swept over the logos on the side over-sized cardboard boxes.
โItโs a two-person job, anyways.โ
Youโre not so sure about that.
Youโve been watching him nearly the whole time. Eyes caught on the rolled-up flannel. The flex of forearm. Resisting the urge to bite into your knuckles, when the readers in his shirt pocket are slipped on - eyes scanning quickly through the instructions.
Hiding a smile at the way he grumbles over your purchases, strong hands testing the strength of the pressed boards.
Despite that - your new bed frame is built swiftly. Fingers working allen wrenches and an electric screwdriver, attaching the panels of wood. Fitting the slats of the headboard into place.
Youโd budgeted the whole weekend for this, and the way he barely has to glance back at the instructions has a warmth spreading through you.
His focus. The attention on each little piece - itโs all you can do to distract yourself. Trying not to read into this. That heโs doing this forย you, instead of just a neighborly favor.
Trying not toย squirm, as you busy yourself with your closet and bedding. Tidying up the broken down boxes and brushing by him more than once in your trips out the garage.
But itโs all winding down, now.
The frame is finished, and moved into place. Joel gets your mattress fitted - lined up in the frame before you make it back with your pile of sheets.
Helps you stretch the edges into place. Intimate, in the way he helps you put things back together. Layering blankets and pillows, tucking everything in with careful precision.
You owe him dinner, at least.
If he wonโt take anything more. What youโd like to give him - more than happy to sink onto your keeps andย thank him, if heโd let you.
Itโs no more than a fantasy, as you pull up the app. Snag two cold cans from the fridge on your way back, catching him lingering at the edge of your new bed.
โPizzaโll be here in thirty.โ You smile - letting your fingers brush his this time.
At the way his lips curve up at the corners.
โYouโre an angel.โ
Itโs hard to pretend his words donโt do something to you. Something sizzling up your spine with the crack of the can as it opens.
The bob of his throat as he swallows, a hand closing around the footboard. Sturdy, under his grip, as you perch on the edge of the mattress.
โLooks good,โ It comes out rough. Reluctant and low - his chin tipping towards your nest of pillows, โYou wanna test it out?โ
His words register in your mind a split second before his. A little laugh slipping from you, just as his back straightens - a hint of pink blooming across his ears.
โChrist. I meant-โ
โYou offering, Joel?โ
It overlaps and then hangs, in the small space of your room.
A long beat of silence, those dark eyes locked on yours. Jaw working, before his head starts to shakes slowly.
โSweetheart, I-โ
Itโs interrupted by the ring of his phone, but you can hear the rejection in his tone. A much different kind of warmth clawing at your chest, crawling up your neck.
Another ring - three more, before those eyes drag down.
Stepping away to answer it, and you know the path his feet with take before he moves. Hushed voices and a low curse, before heโs snapping the phone shut. A hand rubbing at the back of your neck, but he wonโt meet your eyes anymore.
โSorry. SโTommy. Got a flat off 35.โ
If there was a spell between you, itโs broken now. A frown tugs at your lips, as you follow him to the front door, swept up in the swift turn.
โIs he okay? You need help?โ
โNah, I got it.โ His expression softens, those eyes finally lifting to yours, โRain check on that pizza, alright?โ
โOf course.โ You linger by the door, as he tugs on his work boots. A breath, but then youโre adding, โAnd donโt worry, I was kidding earlier. Youโre off the hook.โ
โOff the hook?โ Itโs distracted, as he steps through the door you open for him. The setting sun outside backlighting his features as his head turns.
โYeah. You know,โ You head tips, back towards your bedroom, โHit up some bars. Find someone else to help me out.โ
The joke falls flat, with the way he stiffens. Brows knitting together, as his hand lingers on the latch to your front door.
โRight.โ Joel says, after a beat too long. Lingering for another long moment, before his phone starts to ring again.
Itโs a welcome interruption this time. Your hand lifts in a wave, as you suppress the full-body wave of embarrassment at your attempt at diffusing the tension.
โBye, Joel. Say hey to Tommy for me.โ
He grunts in reply - and heโs barely off the front porch, before youโre pulling out your own phone.
And desperately dialing a familiar number.
Your fingers play with the pink plastic straw, as you glance over your shoulder again.
Waiting for Maria to come back from the bar with a much-needed second round.
Drowning out the embarrassment that still lingers. That had only grew, as you had recounted the afternoon over pizza at her place - a palm pressed to your forehead. Her cringe, telling youย yesย - that was as bad as you thought it had been.
Readily agreeing to your plan to end the night at the new bar that just opened a block over. With another margarita, it might be enough to make you forget.
You finally spot her in the arms of a cowboy with his black stetson, caught up in a handsome detour. Her smile wide as sheโs dipped low, before theyโre drug back into the two-step with the rest of the crowd.
Your lips curve, as you watch for a moment.
Imagining tonight ending a different way. One where youโre not alone in the booth, nose wrinkling as you try hard not to think about a certain neighbor.
Letting your mind wander.
Not even wishing the afternoon had gone a different way, though youโd done enough daydreaming over the past few months.
No, it was just wishing you had kept your mouth shut.
Should have known better than to read into the way youย sworeย he looked at you. Small smiles and brushing of fingers.
Friendly, and nothing more.
Thinking you must be imagining things, when the very man from your daydreams is plucked from them - sliding into the booth across from you, fingers curled around a bottle.
It takes you a moment to find your voice.
โHey Joel,โ Thereโs a heat already in your cheeks already, blooming to your ears, โDidnโt know youโd be here.โ
An apology on the tip of your tongue, worried heโd told you that and youโd missed it. That heโd think you wereย followinghim-
โHere with Tommy,โ His head tips towards the floor and you see him, now.
With the turn of the crowd, those dark curls peeking out from under his hat. His arms still around Maria, and seemingly unaware of anything else.
It makes your heart ache, low behind your ribs. Happiness melding with a deep yearning - wishing for something similar for yourself.
Missing something youโve never had, that possibility something you certainly surely ruined. โListen.โ It comes out low, and your eyes snap back to Joel, โDid you mean what you said earlier?โ
You blink, eyebrows furrowing.
โSorry?โ His eyes drop. Tongue poking at his cheek, his gaze dark when it finally lifts back up.
โWere you serious about finding somebody else?โ
His words hang. Youโd laugh, if he wasnโt so solemn. Those dark eyes caught on yours, lips a flat line as his thumb digs into the damp label on the bottle.
Your answer comes slowly, with the tilt of your head.
โYou think I should?โ
Lilting up at the end. Melancholy swiftly turning into curiosity, especially when the muscles in his jaw clench. The mark that deepens between his eyebrows as he scowls.
โNo.โ
Thereโs an edge to his answer. A slow shake of his head.
โCanโt say I like that idea at all, sweetheart.โ
And with it, the weight youโve been carrying lifts. That boldness from before returning, as his words sink in.
Misreading reluctance for rejection, earlier. Something not unwelcome, just caught off-guard.
โGood,โ You smile - teeth sinking into your bottom lip. Letting yourself lean across the table, as your voice drops.
โBecause Iโd want it to be you. You know that?โ
โSโthat right?โ It comes out low, husky. His eyes burning, now. A leg stretching out beneath the table to bump against yours.
โGuess I oughta check out my work, huh?โ
It has your breath hitching. He still hadnโt looked away from you, after that first question. Not once, even as a shadow falls across the table.
โFinally.โ Tommyโs voice cuts in.
His arm slung around Mariaโs shoulders, mischief sparkling in her eyes beneath the brim of a borrowed hat.
โYou know he dragged me to three bars looking for you?โ
Joelโs knuckles brush yours as he follows you onto your porch. A hand at the small of your back, fingers spanning wide.
Head dipping to meet yours, the second the front door locks behind you and your boots are kicked off. Lips brushing for just a moment, before youโre closing that last hairโs breadth of space.
Thereโs a low groan, when your mouth presses to his. Hands that fist in the fabric of your sweater, tugging you flush against him. Letting you feel every inch of earned muscle, carved out from years of hard labor and softened with age.
Hungry, with the way he claims your mouth. Heat rippling low in your belly as your lips part for his tongue. Deepening it, messy and wanting.
โBedroom,โ Is all you can manage. โPlease.โ
He must have been paying attention earlier with the way he guides you through the ranch, and the thought thrills you. Hands gripping your waist, urging your steps backward until youโre through the doorway of your room.
Tumbling back to land on your bed, breathless and already pushing up to catch at the hem of his worn flannel.
Tugging, until heโs at the edge with you, fitting between your legs. Letting you find his mouth again, as you work the buttons open.
โThought I fucked up earlier,โ You confess, when your lips drag down to his jaw, โThought you didnโt want me.โ
His hands are slower than yours. Taking their time to trace over your curves, though they pause at your words. Thumbs caught just under the swell of your breasts.
โI do. Iย have,ย fuck-โ He rasps - chin tilting up to give you access, when your mouth presses against his neck, โJust didnโt want to take advantage.โ
โTake advantage?โ
A laugh slips from you, the last button slipping free. Your fingers fisted in the opened edges as you lean back, and his knee presses into your mattress - following after you.
โJoel, Iโve been thinking about you and those hands all day.โ
Longer than that, actually - but itโs hard to think about anything else, with him so close.
He hums, fingers flexing. Just brushing the underside of your breasts, and it still sends a jolt through you.
โMy hands? What about them, sweetheart?โ
Leaning further, until youโre braced on your elbows. Until the breadth of his shoulders is blocking out the rest of the room.
โWhat they could do to me,โ You breathe, โYouโre so good with them.โ
Those wide palms and thick fingers. Dexterous and rough after years of carpentry - it had been hard to drag your eyes away earlier.
โIs that right?โ Joel croons, โThen show me where you want them, baby.โ
Itโs easy to cover the back of his hand with your palm. To drag it up, until heโs cupping your chest. Your fingers splaying wide with his, his other hand tucking beneath your hips. Sliding up to your waist - pushing you back onto the bed so he can join you.
Your sweater rucked up until his hand can slide beneath. Warm and calloused and dragging over your skin. Tugging down the cups so he can pinch at the tight buds, the heat radiating out within you.
His mouth finds yours, and itโs been ages since youโve kissed like this. The way he stretches out beside you and how you curl inward. Wiggling out of your sweater and his fingers finding the clasp at the back.
A rough curse as your bra is tugged free, as he kisses down and scrapes his teeth across the soft curves.
Your fingers threading through dark curls as a thigh works between yours. His tongue flicking against your nipple, a moan he can feel humming in your chest as you arch into him.
Teasing you until your hips are shifting. Rubbing yourself on his thigh, just barely taking the edge off the ache between them.
Kisses peppered against your skin. His hands slipping down until his thumb traces along the waistband of your leggings.
โAnywhere else?โ Itโs murmured out, warm against your skin.
โHmm?โ You hum, distracted.
โYou want my hands anywhere else?โ His tongue peeks out from between his lips, as his head lifts, โYou can have whatever you want, baby. Whatever youโll give me.โ
It makes you bold.
โWant you to touch me.โ You beg, and he groans as your hips lift.
Tugging down your leggings and the panties beneath, and heโs helping you shove them down. Working your legs free so his hand can fit between them.
A low curse when he cups you - his palm already growing slick with your need, the tips of his fingers dragging against your slit.
Teasing you, nudging against your entrance before circling your clit. Waiting until youโre guiding his palm again. Dragging him down, your fingers mapping his.
Lining up two fingers, then pressing them inside.
He groans your name like an oath, and you feel as if you could come from this already. Just the feeling of his fingers working you open. Giving you something to clench around. That deep urge to be filled, and he already fits you so perfectly.
โBeen thinking about this,โ His fingers press and curl, a low exhale of breath against your ear. Sounding filthy already, with the slick suck as slips knuckle-deep, โAll the ways I wanna touch you.โ
Your moan is soft, as you cling to him. Your own hands wandering. A rough inhale as they trace over chest, before heโs adding, โCouldnโt stand the thought of being next door while someone else helped you break this bed in.โ
The admission has a spark igniting in your belly. Muscles squeezing around him, as he hovers over you.
As you loosen some of your own, tucked away feelings.
โJust wanted you.โ
โYeah?โ He hums, the rumble low, โHow long?
โJ-July.โ Your breath hitches.
Joel groans, something rough and low slipping out. Pushing himself up, shifting down on your bed as he fits himself between your thighs.
Eyes flicking up to watch the expression on your face, as his lips part. Tongue flattening, dragging from plunged-deep knuckles to the swollen bundle of nerves.
Your thighs fall open. His shoulder slipping beneath one, a hand against your thigh as you chase after his mouth. The soft โoh my god-โ that loops, as your hips buck into the swipe of his tongue.
You werenโt expectingย this.
Thinking maybe youโd sink to your knees. Suck him off until he came down your throat, leave you with the memory as you took care of yourself.
Or maybe youโd get bent over the footboard. Hungry and impersonal, and even that would have been enough.
But not the low moan that is breathed out against your skin. The deep press of fingers again - the suck of teeth and those brown eyes lifting to yours.
Parted lips as his spit drops down to pool against your aching clit - the pad of his thumb following.
Before slipping down to press against you - tug you open. Seeing what a pretty mess you are for him already.
Clenching around his fingers and hungry for more. A needy gasp when the tips drag against the spongey inner wall, the jolt of pleasure shooting up your spine.
A whine, when he does it again.
Again, and again, as his head dips. Wet, open-mouth kisses pressed against your clit, sending you spiraling higher and higher.
โMy hands all youโve been wanting?โ Those dark eyes flick up. Heat pooling in blown-wide pupils, above lips that shine with you.
His palm slipping from beneath your thigh, reaching down to adjust himself.
Your head shakes, hips rocking into the curl of his fingers. Soย closeย - it has your mind hazy and your filter non-existent.
โWant all of you,โ You whine, and you see the flash of his smile.
His pace quickens with your answer, thumb skimming across your clit in time with the slap of the heel of his palm.
โYou have me.โ He rasps, โNeed you to come first though, baby.โ
His head dipping down again, thumb and tongue on either side of your sensitive bud. The words growled out and you swear that they rumble through you, leaving sparks of pleasure in their wake.
โNeed to feel you around my fingers.โ
Youโre almost there - the tension winding between each panting, shortened breath and the muscles that pull as tight as a bowstring. His hips moving with yours, grinding himself into your mattress - the springs squeaking beneath him, but the bed frame still holding strong.
โCome for me so I canย fuckย you like youโve wanted.โ
His name comes in a rush, as you arch into his touch. The words and rough rasp of his voice an accelerant, your moan pitching up as he brings you to the edge.
Sending you over, with the open-mouthed kiss and suck of his mouth. That grin curls again, as your eyes flutter closed - lost in the soft, murmured out praise as he works you through it.
Thumb sweeping, pressing against the spot where you pulse in time with the throb around his fingers.
And when your eyes open again as he eases himself out, Joel looks as wrecked as you feel. Half pushed up, your eyes caught on the fingers he slips between his lips, sucking them clean.
The rumpled flannel, the t-shirt beneath riding up on his stomach. Tanned skin and a dark trail of leading hair below.
Boxers slung low, the fabric tented against the strain of his cock - the head working its way free from the waistband with the rut of his hips. Gleaming, and thereโs a sharp exhale of breath as you push yourself up on an elbow. Hand slipping down to cup him - push the fabric free.
Barely able to fit your fingers around, warm and achingly hard in your hand.
Tasting like you, as his mouth angles down. Groaning into the clutch of your fist, before his hand curves around your wrist.
โYou still want more?โ
Your echo comes out breathless. Heat still pooling low, bliss still painting the corners of your mind in a soft haze. A gentle tug around him, that leaves your meaning unmistakable.
โWant anything youโll give me, Joel.โ
Thereโs a low rumble of approval. Those hands at your waist - flipping you over, before heโs shoving his layers the rest of the way down.
His cock hanging stiff and heavy as your knees spread wide, limbs still liquid. Back arched with the palm that follows along your spine.
Strong thighs mapping yours. His hands gripping at your waist - the filthy groan low in your ear as Joel arches over you, as you grind back against him. The brush of his fat head against your entrance, smearing against your release.
โThen youโd better hold on, sweetheart.โ
Youโre reaching without thought. Eagerly following his every word, fitting your fingers between the slats of the headboard.
Grip tightening, as he starts to sink inside. How you bloom around the tip, slick and warm as he inches further with each rock of his hips.
โThatโs it,โ Joel groans, as you clench around him. Making room - a stretch, even with his fingers.
โAtta girl.โ
Youโre boneless.
Stretched out across the mattress - time no more than a loose concept, kept by the steady thrum of a heartbeat beneath your ear.
โWhat do you think?โ Joelโs voice rumbles, soft and low, โSturdy enough for you?โ
You can still feel the ghost of his fingerprints at your hips. The warmth that smears against your inner thighs, with the dull ache of well-used muscle.
Another orgasm wrenched out of you. Full-bodied waves of pleasure washing over you, as you had come undone around his cock.
Unable to help the smile, buried in his shoulder. Still thinking that you must be dreaming, except for the way his fingers trace across your hip. The very tangibleย man, half-tucked beneath you.
One youโre not ready to let go of.
Not yet.
Not ever, if youโre lucky.
โBetter give it one more go.โ Your hand braces on his chest, and thereโs already a hint of smile, as he helps you hike your thigh over his waist.
Thereโs little that tops the joy I get from reading fics, especially when the fic is this good and after such a long hiatus away!!!! ๐ Loved this, thank you for sharing! ๐
baratheonpilled
titsay
