adoreispunk

[adoreispunk]

watched materialists last night. I think i’m gonna write a harry castillo fic…

[adoreispunk]

Out of Reach (joel miller au)

“Because I meant it. Because somehow, after the worst day I could remember. After being yelled at, after feeling completely unwanted—he was still here. The way he looked at me tonight, the way he held me like I was something worth protecting. I didn’t have to second-guess it anymore.”

wc: 3.8k

an:we’re nearing the end fr fr pookies. this honestly was a longer fic than I anticipated to write but I hope you guys like it:)

masterlist (22)

twenty two

In the car, Joel’s hand didn’t leave mine. His palm was warm, fingers threaded tight through mine like he was afraid I might float away. Every few minutes, his thumb would brush over my knuckles. Or he’d reach across with his other hand and run it slowly over my thigh, fingertips tracing light circles like he was trying to soothe something deeper than skin.

It worked.

I'd told him I loved him. Quietly. In the dark. Just before we got into the car.

It hadn't been planned. It wasn't some dramatic, tearful admission. It came out small, like a breath I'd been holding too long. I didn't expect him to say it back. I didn't even need him to. Not tonight. I just needed him to hear it.

Because I meant it. Because somehow, after the worst day I could remember. After being yelled at, after feeling completely unwanted—he was still here. The way he looked at me tonight, the way he held me like I was something worth protecting. I didn't have to second-guess it anymore.

I loved him.

And maybe he hadn't said it out loud, but I felt it in everything else. The way his thumb kept brushing over my hand. The way he drove in silence but didn't let go of me once. The way he just... stayed.

Somewhere deep down, I knew he felt it too.

He didn't speak. I didn't either. But he was there. And that was the only thing keeping me from spiraling.

I stared out the window and thought about what it would feel like tomorrow. What it would be like to face the mess I'd made. My chest ached at the memory of my dad's face, how fast he'd changed, how much he'd looked at me like a stranger.

I didn't know how we were going to come back from that. But I knew I wasn't going to be tonight.

Joel's thumb swept over my leg again. I turned toward him, letting my head fall softly against his shoulder. His lips pressed to the top of my head without a word.

When the car finally slowed and pulled to a stop in front of the house, my stomach twisted again.

The porch light was off but the living room light was still on. My heart sank a little.

"Shit," I whispered. "Is she awake?"

Joel followed my gaze through the windshield and exhaled slowly. "Looks like it."

He opened the door and stepped out first, coming around to help me out of the car like I might break if left to my own devices. His hand found mine again as we walked up the driveway. 

The porch was quiet. The air smelled like warm concrete and honeysuckle from the bushes nearby. A dog barked in the distance.

I stopped him right before we hit the door. "Joel, are you sure? I can just go home. I don't want her to think—"

"She won't be mad," he cut me off, soft but certain. "Sarah's not like that."

"I know, it's just..." I hesitated, heart thudding. "I don't want her to feel like I'm intruding. Or disrespecting her. Or you. I didn't even bring anything. I look like I just got kicked out, because I kind of did, and—"

"Liv."

Joel leaned in, eyes meeting mine. "Trust me," he said. "She'll understand."

I held his gaze for a beat longer. Then nodded.

We stepped inside.

The soft glow from the living room lamp spilled out onto the hardwood. Joel's house smelled like pine and soap and something warm. Sarah was sitting on the couch, her knees tucked up under her, hoodie sleeves pulled over her hands. Eyes tired but alert, phone in one hand, a paused TV show on the screen behind her.

She looked up when we walked in. Her eyes flicked from Joel to me.

I froze in the doorway. Everything in me wanted to disappear.

Joel gave her a quiet nod. "Hey."

"Hey." Sarah looked at me again longer this time.

"Sorry," I blurted. "I didn't mean to—this wasn't planned, I just—"

"Liv," Joel said gently.

Sarah stood, placing her phone on the coffee table. "It's okay," she said, cutting through the tension like it wasn't as heavy as it felt.

She walked over slowly, eyes soft. "Rough night?"

I nodded, unable to speak. Her kindness hit harder than anything else would've.

She glanced at her dad and then back at me. "You staying here tonight?"

"Yeah," Joel answered before I could.

Sarah just nodded. "Cool. Do you want tea or something?"

That almost broke me.

"I—yeah, that would be nice," I said, my voice catching.

She offered me a small smile. "Chamomile or peppermint?"

"Peppermint."

"I got you," she said, already turning toward the kitchen.

Joel watched her go, then turned to me. "Told you."

I looked up at him, heart aching, relief flooding in.

Joel went upstairs to grab something. I stayed behind in the kitchen with Sarah, standing awkwardly near the counter. My fingers were tight around the edge of the mug she'd handed me, the peppermint tea inside barely touched.

Sarah was sitting on the counter across from me, a tea she made for herself in hand. "So," she said, drawing out the word, "I'm guessing that talk with your dad didn't go great."

I let out a breath, setting the mug down on the counter before I spilled it.

"It was awful," I admitted. "Worse than I thought it'd be."

Sarah nodded like she'd been expecting that too.

"He flipped?"

"He... lost it. I tried to explain, but it didn't matter. He lost it on your dad too." I trailed off, shaking my head. "I don't know if he'll ever talk to me again."

Sarah winced sympathetically. "He will. Eventually. Maybe not the way you want, but he will."

I blinked. "You really think that?"

"I know dads," she said dryly. "Mine, at least. They love hard and stupid. Especially when it comes to their daughters. Doesn't mean they're right. Doesn't mean they don't hurt us. But they always circle back."

I swallowed the lump in my throat. "It felt permanent."

"Yeah, well." She shrugged. "Feelings are dramatic. Doesn't mean they're forever."

We were quiet for a moment. Then Sarah tilted her head at me. "So... are you okay?"

I hesitated. "I think so. I don't really know yet."

She nodded slowly. "Well. I'm glad you came here."

I looked at her, confused. "You are?"

"Yeah," she said. "Being home would have driven you crazy. And both of you didn't run away from each other in an already tough situation. That means something."

"Thanks," I said softly. "That really means a lot."

Sarah shrugged. "You were honest. That's more than most people."

Footsteps creaked on the stairs, and Joel reappeared, holding a folded blanket under one arm and rubbing the back of his neck like he'd been trying to give us space.

"You girls good?" he asked, a little cautious.

Sarah glanced at me, then back at him. "We're fine."

Joel nodded, then hesitated. His eyes flicked to the living room.

"I was gonna put something on," he said. "You wanna stay up? Watch a movie or something?"

Sarah's brow lifted. "One of the classics?"

He gave her a look. "I ain't watching Twilight, if that's what you're angling for."

Sarah grinned. "I was thinking The Thing."

Joel glanced at me. "You good with some Kurt Russell?"

I smiled, a little surprised by how normal this felt, how invited I suddenly was. "Yeah. I'm in."

Before we made it to the couch, Sarah paused, glancing over at me with a small frown. "Wait—do you want pajamas? Or like makeup remover or something?"

I blinked. "Oh—I mean, I didn't bring anything. I'm fine."

Sarah raised an eyebrow. "No you're not. You're in a dress and eyeliner that's halfway down your face. I'm not gonna be comfy until you are."

I flushed, instinctively brushing a hand under my eye.

"Come on," she said, already heading toward the stairs.

I followed her up, a little hesitant. Her room was down the hall from Joel's, tucked into a corner. When she opened the door, I felt something tight in my chest.

It looked different but not completely. There were still touches of the old house. A framed concert poster I remembered from middle school. The same record player in a new corner, though it had new stickers on it now. A worn fleece blanket I recognized from sleepovers.

Sarah moved easily around the room, opening drawers, grabbing a pair of soft plaid pajama pants and an oversized band tee. She handed them to me along with a fresh pack of cotton pads and some micellar water. "Bathroom's across the hall, but if you wanna change in here, that's cool too."

"Thanks," I said quietly, hugging the clothes to my chest.

She stepped out, pausing at the door before she pulled it mostly shut behind her. "Let me know if you need anything else, okay?"

I nodded, and she gave me a soft smile before disappearing down the hall.

For a second, I just stood there, I didn't feel like I deserved this much grace tonight but I was grateful for every bit of it.

I folded my clothes up in a neat pile and set them in a clear corner on the floor. Trying not to take up as much space as I already felt I was. I made my way to the couch and Joel gave me a reassuring look as he walked into the living room.

Sarah shifted to the center of the couch and tossed a pillow toward the armrest. "You can sit, y'know. We're not gonna bite."

Joel handed me the blanket, then dropped down beside his daughter, remote in hand. I tucked myself onto the end, careful, still not quite sure where I fit but grateful to be asked.

We settled onto the couch, the room dim now except for the soft flicker of the TV. Sarah curled up beside Joel like it was muscle memory, her head against his shoulder, knees pulled in beneath the blanket he'd handed her. Joel didn't miss a beat; he shifted slightly to make room and looped an arm around her, pulling her in like it was the easiest thing in the world.

I watched them for a second, this quiet, unspoken routine between them. Something about it made my chest ache in a good way. The way he held her, how instinctively he made space for her, how safe she looked tucked against his side it was the same Joel I'd always known. Joel the family man.

They started chiming in as the movie played, quoting lines under their breath like they'd seen it a hundred times. Probably had. Sarah called out to me once or twice—"Okay, this is the best part, pay attention" and Joel would nod, eyes on the screen but a faint smile tugging at his mouth.

I smiled back, nestled into the far end of the couch with my blanket pulled up to my chin. I don't know when it started happening, but somewhere toward the end of the movie, my eyes started to droop. I glanced over and saw Sarah was doing the same. She'd slipped further down, head now resting more on her dad's chest than his shoulder. Joel hadn't moved. He just let her be.

I didn't mean to fall asleep. I only closed my eyes for a second.

But then I felt it, Joel's hand brushing my shoulder, warm and gentle. I blinked awake to a quiet room, the TV off, only the soft whir of the house settling around us.

"Hey," he said quietly, crouched down beside the couch.

I rubbed my eyes and sat up slowly, trying to shake the fog from my brain. "What time is it?"

"Late," he murmured, glancing toward Sarah, who was still out cold, curled into the crook of the couch like a cat.

I started to move. "Should I—?"

Joel gave me a small smile, one corner of his mouth tilting up. "Might be best if you sleep down here. Just for tonight. Just to be respectful."

I nodded, not offended, not even surprised. I got it. I really did. "Yeah. Of course. I understand."

He leaned in a little closer, his voice low. "But you know where to find me... if you need anything."

I smiled, heart tugging a little, and whispered, "Okay."

Joel brushed a quick kiss over my forehead—tender, almost too brief to feel. But I felt it.

"Goodnight, Liv."

"Goodnight."

He stood and looked down at Sarah, still curled up and half-buried under the blanket. For a moment I thought he might pick her up, but then she stirred slightly, eyes cracking open just a sliver.

"I'm good," she mumbled, voice thick with sleep. "I'll probably wake up in a bit and go to my room."

Joel nodded, brushing a hand gently over her hair. "Alright, Kiddo. Goodnight."

She was already halfway back asleep.

Joel glanced back at me one more time before heading for the stairs. I watched him go, the quiet click of his door a soft end to the night.

I curled deeper into the couch, pulling the blanket tight around me. The pillow still smelled like fabric softener and something faintly like cedar. And for the first time that day, I felt like I could actually sleep.

The clatter of plates was what woke me. I blinked against the light streaming in through the windows, groggy and disoriented for a second before everything clicked back into place.

I sat up slowly, rubbing my eyes as the muffled sound of laughter drifted in from the kitchen.

"Shit—sorry, sorry!" Sarah's voice, followed by another clang.

"I told you to flip it sooner," Joel's voice rumbled back, dry and amused.

I turned, still nestled in the blanket, and peeked into the kitchen.

They were both still in pajamas. Joel in a worn gray t-shirt and plaid sleep pants, Sarah in the same hoodie from last night, her hair piled in a messy bun. The stove was going, two mugs sat on the counter, and there was smoke curling from a pan that Joel quickly removed from the burner.

He spotted me stirring and smirked.

"Well look who's finally up," he said, voice warm and teasing. "I was about to check if you were still breathing. You hungry? Joel asked, stepping over to the fridge and pulling out another carton of eggs. "We're doing round two. Less charred this time."

"Yeah, thank you." I said, sitting up straighter. "That sounds great."

The smell hit me then eggs, something sweet like cinnamon, filled the whole house. Joel motioned toward the counter. "Come sit. I'll make you a plate."

I stood, folding the blanket and draping it over the couch before padding into the kitchen.

They had already set three mismatched plates out, a half-empty bottle of syrup, a bowl of cut-up strawberries that Sarah was picking at between flips. Joel handed me some coffee, and I took it with both hands, letting the warmth sink into my fingers.

"Extra sugar." he added, making me blush.

"We're just staying in today," he said, cracking another egg into the pan. "Didn't have much planned. But if you wanna hang out longer before heading back, you're welcome to."

I blinked at him, caught off guard. "Really?"

He glanced over his shoulder at me, something soft in his expression. "Yeah. You don't have to rush out, Liv. If you want to stay a while... stay."

Part of me wanted to say yes immediately. To melt into this place where everything felt warm and easy and normal. But the rest of me knew I couldn't hide out here forever.

"I... I'll probably head back after breakfast," I said gently. "Just so I can talk to my dad. Or at least try."

Joel gave a quiet nod, not pushing it. "Alright. Just figured I'd offer."

I looked at him, trying to find words for the way that made me feel, how much it meant, but they didn't come.

Instead, I gave him a small smile. "Thanks."

We ate together at the table. Joel dishing out perfectly cooked eggs and fresh pancakes this time, Sarah dramatically proclaiming hers a redemption arc.

Afterward, I slipped upstairs to gather my things. The clothes Sarah had lent me  neatly folded at the edge of the bed, and my own dress was still where I'd left them in a careful pile. I changed quickly, brushing out my hair with my fingers in the bathroom and stealing some of their mouthwash.

When I came back down, Joel was already by the front door, keys in hand. Sarah leaned against the banister, sipping the last of her coffee.

"You sure you're okay to go?" she asked, eyes scanning mine carefully.

I nodded. "Yeah. I think I need to."

Sarah stepped forward and gave me a quick hug. Joel opened the door, letting the morning light spill in. "Ready?" he asked.

I took a breath, steadying myself. Then nodded.

"Yeah," I said. "Let's go."

The car was warm from the morning sun, the leather seats heated just enough to make me sink into them with a soft sigh. Joel waited until I'd fastened my seatbelt before sliding behind the wheel and starting the engine, one hand resting loosely at the top of the steering wheel.

We didn't pull out of the driveway right away. He just sat there, looking over at me like he was searching for something in my face.

"You good?" he asked, voice low.

I nodded, slow. "Yeah. Just... nervous."

Joel studied me a second longer, then shifted in his seat. His hand left the steering wheel, moving to rest gently on my thigh. "Come here."

I turned toward him, confused for a split second—until he leaned in.

The kiss was soft at first. Warm. Measured. Like he was reminding himself it was allowed now, that he didn't have to pretend he didn't want this. But then his hand slid to the back of my neck, pulling me in just a little closer, and the kiss deepened—slow and aching and full of things he hadn't said last night.

When he finally pulled back, he let his forehead rest against mine.

"I missed you in my bed last night," he murmured, his breath brushing my lips.

I smiled, eyes still closed. "I did too."

Then I opened my eyes and tilted my head just enough to look at him. "But I was more than comfortable knowing I was in your house. With you. And Sarah." My voice dropped, soft and sincere. "It meant a lot. Really."

Joel brushed a strand of hair behind my ear, the pad of his thumb grazing my cheekbone. "She likes you, y'know."

"I like her, too," I said. "I'll make sure she knows how grateful I am. For everything."

He gave me a quiet look—something like pride mixed with affection—before finally pulling away and shifting the truck into gear.

We started driving.

The roads were quiet this early, a few joggers out, the occasional dog-walker. I kept glancing at the window, watching the neighborhoods blur by as the real world slowly crept back in. My heart started to thrum heavier in my chest the closer we got to my house.

Joel didn't say much, just let one hand linger on the center console, close enough to touch. I held it for a while, fingers laced with his.

Then we turned onto my street.

And I saw him.

My dad, standing at the edge of the lawn in an old t-shirt and sweatpants, hose in hand, watering the ferns near the walkway. He hadn't seen us yet. But he would. In about five seconds.

"Fuck," I breathed out, sitting up straighter. "Fuck."

"I—" I let out a shaky laugh. "I was hoping I'd have, like ten minutes. Just ten minutes to fucking compose myself."

Joel's jaw flexed, like he wanted to say something but thought better of it.

Joel pulled up to the curb, parked.

That's when my dad looked over. Saw the truck. Saw us inside.

We locked eyes. A long, tense beat passed. Then he dropped the hose and started walking toward us.

"Get out," he said, eyes on the both of us.

My chest seized.

Joel looked at me. I looked at him. Neither of us moved for a second too long.

Then I forced the door open and stepped out into the heat, gravel crunching under my boots. Joel followed, slower.

Dad met us halfway down the walk. His face was unreadable. And aimed directly at Joel.

I swallowed hard, preparing for the worst. A punch. A blow-up loud enough to bring the neighbors out onto their porches.

My dad looked between us then let out a long breath.

"I had a lot of time to think last night," he said, voice low. "More than I wanted."

I didn't dare say anything. Neither did Joel.

"I was pissed," he admitted, looking at me first. "Seeing you leave like that. With him."

His eyes shifted to Joel. "With you."

Joel didn't flinch. He just nodded once, steady.

"But I get it," Dad continued. "It wouldn't've been pretty if you'd stayed, I know that. Hell, I was halfway there already."

The silence sat thick around us, heavy and taut.

He rubbed a hand down his face like it pained him to say the next part. "Look, I don't like this. I don't," he repeated. "I can't pretend this is something I'm okay with. You and him."

His gaze snapped back to mine, eyes sharp but not cruel. "But you're not a kid anymore, Liv. You're a grown woman. Making your own life. I don't get to control that."

My throat tightened. I didn't know what I was expecting, but it wasn't this strange acceptance.

Dad looked back at Joel, "I'm not gonna sit here and pretend we're gonna be one big happy family. I can't fake that. But I'm not gonna be the guy standing in the way either."

He crossed his arms. "So here's what I'm asking—no, telling you, Joel. You take care of her. She deserves that."

Joel met his gaze, eyes steady. "I will."

Dad nodded once, clipped. "Good. Because I realized something else last night."

He looked at me again, something softer working into his expression. "You've been figuring yourself out lately. Working harder than ever. Your photography, this whole career thing—you've got more direction than I've ever seen in you. And I had to admit to myself, that's not because of me."

[adoreispunk]

Out of Reach (joel miller au)

"…Dad agreed, then clapped Joel on the back. "You should get home, man. Don't wanna keep you here all night."

Joel's eyes flicked to mine for half a second, before he nodded again.

I stepped forward before he could move. My voice didn't shake, even if my stomach did. "Actually," I said, "can you stay a minute?" “

wc: 2.6k

an: at the end of the chapter;)

masterlist (21)

twenty one

The backyard had finally gone quiet.

The music had faded into silence, and the last few guests trickled out through the side gate, their laughter fading into the dark like the smoke rising from the fire pit. The string lights above us still glowed soft, casting long shadows over the lawn, now littered. My dad's oldest friends were still posted up near the fire, voices low, holding on to the last drops in their cups like they could stretch the night out a little longer.

Sarah had said goodbye about twenty minutes ago. She hugged me tightly before leaving, leaned in with a mischievous smile, and whispered, "Good luck." Like she saw right through me. I'd barely managed a shaky "thanks" before she was gone with Tommy, waving as they disappeared into the driveway. Joel had agreed to uber home.

Joel was folding up chairs and stacking them against the fence, sleeves rolled up, forearms tense and dusted with grass. He looked tired but steady, like he always did when he was trying to stay in motion. Keep his hands busy so his mind didn't wander.

I stayed in the kitchen for a while, pretending the leftovers needed urgent attention. Sliding foil over trays of ribs, scooping potato salad into plastic containers, and gathering trash. My hands worked on autopilot. My brain, meanwhile, ran circles.

There was no more putting it off.

I glanced out the window and saw the last of my dad's friends clapping each other on the back, saying their goodbyes. One by one, they filtered out, leaving behind only the quiet flicker of the fire and the sound of Joel's boots on the patio.

Shit. Now it was just Joel, my dad, and me.

I took a deep breath and carried the last stack of empty beer bottles outside to the bin. The screen door creaked, and I stepped out into the stillness.

"Hey, sweetheart," my dad called, voice loose and warm. He was leaning against the picnic table, cheeks still a little flushed. Not as drunk as earlier, but buzzed enough to smile like everything in the world was good. "You killin' it in there?"

I smiled faintly. "Trying to. We had a lot of food."

"We always do," he said with a chuckle. "You remember last year? We had, like, four trays of wings left. I ate them for breakfast for a week."

I laughed under my breath. "Yeah, and you got sick."

"Worth it," he grinned, and nudged me lightly with his elbow. "You okay, though? You seemed kinda quiet the last hour or so."

I hesitated, heart skipping. "Yeah. Just tired, I think."

He studied me for a second, eyes squinting a little. "Well... I had a real good time tonight. Really. Best birthday I've had in a long time."

"I'm glad." I reached over, touched his arm. "You deserved it."

He got soft at that, a little emotional the way he always did after a few drinks. "You're a good kid, Liv. I don't say it enough."

I felt the lump rise in my throat. My voice came out a little quieter than I meant. "Thanks, Dad."

Then he looked over toward the chairs and raised his voice. "Joel, buddy—you don't gotta keep folding all those. I can finish up in the morning, promise."

Joel paused, setting down the chair in his hands. "Just trying to help."

"You already did more than enough," Dad said, pushing off the table and crossing the yard to him. "Thank you, though. Seriously."

Joel gave a small nod, wiping his hands on his jeans. "You're welcome. It was a good night."

"It was," Dad agreed, then clapped Joel on the back. "You should get home, man. Don't wanna keep you here all night."

Joel's eyes flicked to mine for half a second brief, before he nodded again.

I stepped forward before he could move. My voice didn't shake, even if my stomach did. "Actually," I said, "can you stay a minute?"

Both of them looked at me.

My dad blinked, then grinned. "Uh-oh. I'm not in trouble, am I?"

I smiled tightly. "No. Just... need to tell you something."

Joel stood still, hands at his sides. Waiting.

My heart thudded hard.

This was it.

I swallowed hard, eyes flicking from Joel to my dad. My mouth opened, but the words felt thick in my throat.

"I just..." I started, my voice careful. "I wanted to say that Joel's been a really big help to me these past couple weeks. With the internship stuff. And just... figuring things out."

My dad raised his eyebrows, smiling as he leaned back slightly, clearly not expecting that direction. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," I nodded. "He's really helped shift the way I've been thinking about everything. The job, my future, even my photography. He's let me be creative with it, like actually trust my ideas, and I just—I don't know, I'm excited about it again. In a way I haven't been for a while."

Joel shifted behind me, still quiet.

My dad grinned wide, squinting at Joel like something had just clicked. "Oh shit. Are you givin' her a permanent position or somethin'? That what this is?"

Joel opened his mouth, probably to clarify, but I cut in fast.

"No," I said sharply, too fast. "Dad, I'm trying to—"

I winced, cursed under my breath. "Shit."

My dad's brows drew together, the smile fading as he glanced between us. "Alright, then what the hell is goin' on?"

I looked at Joel. He didn't move. He just stood there. Then I turned back to my dad, heart slamming so hard I could barely hear my own voice.

"Joel and I have been seeing each other."

Silence.

For a second, I thought maybe he hadn't heard me. But then the shift happened—slow but sharp.

His face dropped. The confusion twisted into disbelief. Then into something colder.

"Seeing each other?" he echoed, like he didn't understand the words.

"Yeah," I said, barely above a whisper. "As in... we've been... involved."

His mouth opened, then closed. His eyes cut to Joel, narrowing.

"You're joking," he said, but it didn't sound like he thought it was funny.

"I'm not," I replied.

His gaze cut hard to Joel, and everything in his face changed. Something behind his eyes snapped. His posture went stiff. His hands curled into fists at his sides.

"With him?" he spat. "You're tellin' me my daughter—" His voice cracked. "You've been messin' around with him?"

Joel shifted a step forward, cautious. "Theo—"

"Don't," my dad barked. "Don't you fucking say a word to me."

Joel stopped. I felt his energy shift. My dad stepped closer to me, face flushed deep red. "How long?" he demanded. "How long has this been goin' on?"

I didn't answer fast enough.

"How long, Olivia?!"

"Since the internship," I said quickly. "Not from the beginning but—"

He didn't wait to hear the rest. He turned and stormed straight toward Joel.

"You motherfucker," he growled, grabbing a fistful of Joel's shirt and shoving him hard in the chest. Joel stumbled back a step but didn't raise his hands, didn't defend himself.

"You son of a bitch. You've been in my house. You sat at my table. And this whole time you've been fucking around with my daughter?"

Joel didn't say anything. His jaw clenched, eyes steady, like he was ready to take the hit if it came.

My heart slammed into my ribs. "Dad, stop—!"

"I oughta kill you right here," he seethed, getting in Joel's face. "You think I don't see what this is? You think I don't know what the fuck you're doing?"

"Stop it!" I yelled. "It wasn't like that! He didn't do anything to me!"

He turned toward me then, voice breaking. "You're twenty-two, Olivia. What the hell do you think this is? Love? This ain't love. This is bullshit."

Joel finally spoke, low and gravelly. "It wasn't supposed to happen. I tried—"

"I don't give a shit what you tried," my dad roared, shoving him again. "You did. And now you show your face here? Like you got a right to stand on this lawn tonight?"

Joel didn't fight back. "I'm sorry."

"Get the fuck outta here," my dad snarled. "Before I put you in the goddamn ground."

Joel looked at me one last time for comfort. Then he turned, jaw tight, and walked toward the front of the house without another word.

I watched him disappear around the corner. My chest felt like it might cave in.

When I turned back, my dad was staring at the ground like he didn't even know where he was anymore.

"I can't believe you'd do this," he muttered. "You had every man in the world, Liv. And you chose him?"

"I didn't choose it," I said, voice shaking. "It just happened."

He shook his head, like he couldn't hear me. "You don't know what the hell you're doing."

"I do," I said, fighting the tears now. "You just don't want to see it."

His eyes lifted to mine, pained and furious. "I don't wanna look at you right now."

He turned and walked back inside, the screen door slamming shut behind him.

The sound echoed through me. Something cracked in my chest. I didn't even realize I was crying until I felt the tears on my neck, hot and sudden. I brought a hand to my face, gasping out a breath that caught halfway up my throat. Everything inside me was unraveling too fast to hold together.

I stood there a second longer, trembling, unsure if I should run after him. Try to make him understand. Beg him to listen. But the urge to have Joel in this moment was stronger. My legs moved before I had a plan, cutting across the grass, through the gate, and down the driveway in a blur.

"Joel?" I called, voice breaking.

He was still there.

Standing just at the curb, head tilted down, thumbing through his phone. His broad shoulders slumped forward in a way I wasn't used to seeing like he was carrying every ounce of the tension too.

"Joel," I said again, softer this time.

His head lifted. When he saw me, his expression shifted. I broke into a run and flung my arms around him. My fingers curled tight into the fabric of his shirt. He caught me, instantly, one arm around my back, the other cradling the back of my head. He didn't say anything. Just held me like he could feel me falling apart in real time.

"I'm so sorry," I sobbed. "I'm sorry—I didn't think—I thought maybe if I explained—he wasn't supposed to react like that—"

"Shh," Joel murmured, voice low against my temple. "It's okay. It's alright."

"I didn't want you to leave like that," I choked out. "I didn't want it to happen like this."

"I know," he said. He didn't let go. His hand smoothed gently down my spine, trying to settle me.

"I don't care what he thinks," I whispered into his chest. "I don't. I don't want you to go."

Joel was quiet for a moment. His hand slowed. I could feel the weight of his thoughts in the silence. "I get it," he finally said. "He's your dad. And he's... well, he's who he is. I didn't expect rainbows and sunshine, Liv."

I pulled back just enough to look at him, searching his face. "I know how he is," I said. "But I thought—I hoped maybe if I was the one to tell him, it would be different. I don't know what I was thinking. I just didn't want to hide anymore."

"You did the right thing," he said gently. "You told the truth."

I swallowed, chest still heaving, scared of the next words out of his mouth.

"But—" I started. "If this is too much for you—"

Joel's hand came up to cup the side of my face, thumb brushing my cheek.

"I'm not going anywhere," he said. "I promised, remember?"

I blinked through the tears, my breath catching. "But my dad—"

"We'll figure it out," he said. "Give him time. It's not just us he's processing right now. The drinking didn't help. He was already riding high from the night, and then that?"

He shook his head, jaw tight for a second before softening again.

"I'm not mad. And I'm not giving up. I want you, Olivia. That hasn't changed."

A sound escaped me—half laugh, half sob. I threw my arms around him again, tighter this time.

"I want you too," I whispered. "So much."

His arms came around me again, stronger now, like he was anchoring us both. Like he meant it.

I pulled back again, just far enough to see his face in the low glow of the streetlight. He looked wrecked in the way I felt—like all his muscles had been holding tension for hours and had only now started to let go. His eyes found mine, and for a second, neither of us said anything. Just breathing. Just being there.

Then I reached for his face. My hand slid to his jaw, thumb brushing over the stubble there. He looked at me like he already knew.

"I love you."

The words were quiet, but they rang out loud in the silence between us. I watched as his eyes widened, something sharp and startled flashing across his expression like I'd taken the air right out of his lungs.

But before he could speak, before he could even blink the weight of it away.

The headlights swept across us.

A car turned the corner and rolled slowly into the cul de sac.

The Uber.

Joel's mouth opened, then shut. His eyes flicked to the car, jaw tightening. For a beat, he looked like he might say something anyway. Like maybe he'd grab my face and pull me in and say it back, kiss me stupid in the middle of the street because he couldn't help himself.

He exhaled hard through his nose, gaze dropping briefly before finding mine again.

"Come with me," he said. "Just for tonight."

"Joel—"

"Sarah's already asleep," he added. "We'll explain something to her in the morning if I need to. She'll understand. But you shouldn't go back in there tonight."

I hesitated, glancing back toward the house, "I don't have anything with me," I said quietly. "Just my phone."

He reached for my hand. "It's okay. I'll get you what you need. Just... be with me."

I nodded slowly. I couldn't bear the thought of lying in my bed while my dad's words echoed in the walls. I couldn't stomach the silence or the shame or the way everything good had just shattered.

So I squeezed Joel's hand back.

"Okay," I whispered.

He opened the back door for me, hand guiding the small of my back as I slipped into the seat. He followed a second later, and the car pulled off.

I glanced out the window as the house faded behind us, my heart still splintered but tethered to the one thing I knew I didn't regret. And just before we turned the corner, I saw him.

My dad.

He was standing in the front window, the porch light casting him in shadow. His arms were crossed over his chest, his shoulders tense. He wasn't moving, just watching.

He didn't wave. But he saw me. And I saw him.

I turned back around, breath catching in my throat. My phone felt heavy in my lap, screen still dark.

I would text him tonight. Even if he didn't want to hear it. Even if he wouldn't respond.

He deserved to know I hadn't meant to break him.

And I needed him to know that I meant every word.

- - - - - - -

an: y’all I honestly didn’t know if I wanted them to say I love you but i’m just a lover girl and I like a little bit of fluff☺️☺️☺️ soft joel >>>>>

[adoreispunk]

Out of Reach (joel miller au)

“My dad scanned the crowd, his smile still big and a little glazed. And then, he locked eyes with Joel.

Fuck

"You," he said, pointing right at him. "Joel. Get your ass up here." “

wc:4k

masterlist (20)

twenty

It was late Friday afternoon. I was still standing in front of my mirror fidgeting with the straps of my dress, wondering if I looked casual enough for a backyard barbecue and sane enough to confess I was sleeping with my dad’s friend.

Not that I was going to say it like that.

I smoothed the front of the sundress, something light and breezy, nothing too revealing. I didn't want to give my dad a stroke. But I also wanted to give Joel some eye candy for some confidence. Because tonight was the night.

My dad's birthday barbecue. A yard full of family and old friends. Burgers and beer and that playlist he insists on resurrecting every year like it's the soundtrack to his life. Joel would be there. Tommy, Sarah, all of them. And by the end of it, if everything went according to plan, my dad would know. About me, about Joel ,about us.

I was already sweating and the party hadn't even started.

I wrapped up my internship today too.

Joel made me stay late, pretending there were things to go over, but really, I think he just wanted to stretch it out. One more lunch together and one more office fuck. And then, before I left, he handed me an envelope.

He gave me my letter of recommendation in a plain envelope with my name on it in printed black ink. Said he wrote it himself "Every word, even the good grammar," he'd added with a smirk. That meant everything to me. That he took time out of his ridiculous schedule to sit down and actually write something about me, not just fill out some template or let someone else handle it. It felt like a gift.

Joel had been doing his best to keep me calm all afternoon, text after text. He was pretending to be cool, but I knew him too well by now. He was doing a little too much to be calm and collected.

But god, we'd been doing so good. Like, scary good. The kind of good where it didn't feel like we were sneaking around anymore, not because we weren't, but because we didn't feel ashamed of it anymore. There was no guilt in the way he touched me now. No hesitation in the way he kissed me, slow like he wasn't afraid of what it meant. Fucked me like he meant it too.

The tension still simmered in the air every time we were near each other but different in the quiet moments. The way he held my face in his hands. The way he lingered when we said goodbye. The way he said my name when he thought I was asleep, all rough and reverent like it meant something holy. He was still Joel, but now he was letting himself be soft with me. It was like watching someone remember how to fall for someone else.

The other night, he invited me out for dinner with Sarah and him. I was fucking terrified.

It wasn't what I expected. At first, yeah, it was awkward as hell. I still didn't know how to shrug off her walking in on us at the office or her almost catching me naked in the kitchen. She didn't say much when I walked in, just gave me a look I couldn't read and went back to skimming the menu. Joel was a little jumpy. He was trying to play it cool, trying too hard to make it seem normal.

But after a while, the energy shifted. Sarah asked about school and my photography. One topic led to another, and soon we were swapping playlists and talking about professors and old memories. After a while, it was like Joel wasn't even there. I caught him staring once, his mouth tilted into the smallest, stunned kind of smile, like he couldn't believe it either.

And then when he got up to use the bathroom, Sarah leaned over and confessed, "He's different since you got back. Like, good different. Happier. I don't know what you're doing to him, but... keep doing it." She shrugged. "It could look weird, yeah. But whatever. Fuck what people think."

That was the first time I really let myself breathe around her. Which brings me back to now. Now here I was, staring out my window at the backyard filling with people, the grill already smoking, music rolling through the air like background noise to a night that could change everything.

Joel texted me that he and Sarah were picking up Tommy and grabbing a bottle of scotch for my dad on the way. I could already smell the charcoal from the backyard, hear my uncle's voice booming through the window. Everyone was already starting to gather.

This was it. Our last real chance. I'd be back at school on Monday. And as much as we'd been dodging the truth, Joel and I both knew this couldn't stay a secret from him any longer.

I ran my fingers down the sides of my dress one more time, grabbed a sweater just in case, and headed out.

The party was already in full swing. My dad was manning the grill in his favorite "Kiss the Cook" apron, talking shit with his old friends like he was still twenty. I hugged a few cousins and grabbed a beer for confidence. I waited close to the gate to greet them when they got here. After a few minutes of mindless scrolling on my phone I heard the gate latch rattle. Joel, walking toward me across the lawn in a dark button-down with the sleeves rolled up, Sarah at his side, Tommy behind them laughing at something. He looked so good it hurt I couldn't jump on him as soon as he walked in. And the second our eyes met, I swear I forgot every built up worry.

Sarah and Tommy greeted me with quick hugs and hellos. As soon as they spotted my dad, they veered toward the grill to wish him a happy birthday. Joel lingered behind staying close to me while they walked off, the bottle of scotch hanging in his hand.

"Hey babygirl," he said softly once he got to me, that little smile twitching up at the corner of his mouth. He didn't kiss me, didn't touch me. Just let his eyes linger. "You okay?"

I nodded even though I wasn't. "You?"

"Ask me in a couple hours."

Joel leaned in close, voice low just for me. "C'mon. Walk with me. Gotta say hi to your dad."

My heart lurched. "Already?"

He gave me that calm, grounding look. "Calm down, I just gotta say hi."

So I nodded. We crossed the yard slowly, weaving through folding chairs and kids chasing each other with water balloons. Friends and family were scattered in every direction, red cups in hand, lounging in fold-out chairs or gathered around the fire pit that hadn't been lit yet.

My dad was at the grill in his usual zone, beer in one hand, tongs in the other, flipping burgers like they were Olympic gold. But when he caught sight of Joel heading his way, his whole face lit up.

"Joel!" he called, throwing down the tongs with dramatic flair and striding over like he'd been waiting for this all day. "Man, it's good to see you."

Joel smiled, warm and easy, holding out the bottle of scotch he'd picked up on the way over. "Happy birthday, Theo. Got this for you."

My dad took one look at the bottle and practically fell over. "Hell yeah, now this is what I'm talkin' about." He looked between the label and Joel, shaking his head in appreciation. "You know what that means, right?"

Joel smiled. "What's that?"

"We're takin' a drink right now." He motioned toward the table behind him where someone had already set out red cups. "C'mon. You can't show up to my birthday with a bottle like this and not chug the first glass with me."

Joel glanced at me, then nodded. "Let's do it."

My dad poured heavy-handed into two plastic cups, handed one to Joel, then raised his own. "To another year. And to you," he added, looking at Joel now, "for takin' care of my girl."

I froze. Joel gave him a polite smile, the same one he wore at job sites and meetings. "She made it easy."

But my dad kept going. "No No, I mean it. You gave her that internship. Taught her a lot. And kept her outta trouble, I'm guessing," he laughed, elbowing Joel lightly. "That's all I could've asked for. So, cheers to you."

They clinked cups and drank. I swear I felt the Earth tilt.

I could barely watch, the whole moment so surreal and terrifying I had to focus on my own breath just to keep it steady. Joel was drinking with my father. Being thanked and praised by him. He had no idea he was practically toasting the man who'd had his daughter bent over a desk a couple hours ago.

Joel set the empty cup down, wiping his mouth. "Happy birthday again."

"Appreciate it, man," my dad said, giving his shoulder a squeeze before heading back to the grill.

Joel turned toward me, calm as ever, and jerked his head toward the food tables. "Walk with me?"

I didn't move right away, still stunned. But eventually, I fell into step beside him.

"That just made it worse," I muttered, arms crossed tight over my chest.

He looked over at me, one brow raised. "What did?"

"That whole interaction." I said, fidgeting my hands through my hair.

Joel chuckled under his breath. "Just trust me." His voice softened as he leaned in. "It's gonna be alright."

I wanted to believe him. God, I needed to believe him.

He leaned in while he walked beside me. "You wear that dress for me?" I looked back up at him, half rolling my eyes but it made me forget for a beat. "Guess we'll find out later."

We joined Sarah and Tommy by the long buffet table where everyone was loading up on food. Sarah already had a paper plate stacked with everything under the sun, and Tommy was elbow-deep in ribs.

Tommy looked up at me. "You gonna eat or just hover?"

"Maybe in a bit," I muttered. "Not really hungry."

Sarah paused mid-bite and gave me a look. "Olivia. No. This food is ridiculous. You have to eat. I don't know who made that mac and cheese, but I would marry them."

Joel and I slid into the open bench across from Sarah and Tommy at one of the picnic tables, plates in hand, paper napkins fluttering in the warm breeze. The table was already half covered in beer bottles, foil-covered trays, and someone's forgotten sunglasses.

Sarah looked up at me with a knowing smile. "There we go," she said, nodding at my plate. "Couldn't resist." I said with a quiet laugh, settling beside Joel.

Joel sat close, his thigh pressed warm against mine under the table, his hand drifting just enough to brush against my leg now Reassuring. I glanced at him, and he didn't even look over, just passed me my bottle of water like we'd done this a thousand times before.

I finally let myself eat. The food was good,really good, and I hadn't realized how hungry I was until the first bite.

Tommy dug into his plate, eyes wide as he pointed his fork at me. "Thank you for having us. If I had to eat whatever Joel was gonna burn for dinner tonight, I would've had to fake a stomach bug and go home early."

Joel gave him a look. "You talk a lot of shit for someone who still can't boil pasta."

Tommy smirked. "Yeah, well, at least I don't serve steak so dry it crunches."

I laughed, covering my mouth with my napkin.

Joel glanced over when I laughed, his mouth tugging up at the corners like he couldn't help it. "Don't encourage him," he said, nudging me lightly with his knee. "You laugh at his jokes and he starts thinking he's funny."

"She's got good taste," Tommy shot back. "And clearly a soft spot for the underdog."

I smiled, still chewing. "Or maybe I just feel bad for you Joel."

"See?" Tommy grinned, gesturing between us with his fork. "She gets it. I like her."

Sarah leaned in from across the table, grinning "Get used to this," she said, looking straight at me. "They've been like this since I was in diapers."

I smiled again, more genuinely this time. "Lucky me."

The night rolled on fast. The sun dipped lower, the haze that made the string lights overhead turn on. More people had trickled in, friends and neighbors I hadn't seen in years. Kids screamed and ran through the yard. The fire pit flickered to life.

When the plates were mostly empty and everyone was loosening their belts, I turned to Joel and nudged his arm. "Hey, wanna help me get the cake ready?"

He looked over, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Yeah. Let's go."

We slipped inside the house, through the sliding door that shut out the noise with a soft click behind us. The difference was instant. No music, no voices, just the low hum of the fridge and the soft creak of the floor under our feet.

I padded across the kitchen toward the fridge, reaching in for the white cake box I'd tucked on the top shelf earlier. When I turned around, Joel was already there. He took the box gently from my grip and set it on the counter.

He turned back around and finally kissed me. Soft and slow. Like he'd been waiting all night for this one quiet second.

His hand cupped the side of my neck, thumb brushing just below my ear as his lips His hand found my waist and I melted into it. It wasn't frantic. Something like relief.

When he pulled back, just barely, he whispered against my lips, "Hi."

I felt my whole chest go warm. I looked up at him and smiled, leaning into the solid weight of his shoulder, letting my head rest there like I didn't have any rush right now. "Hi," I whispered back.

Joel kept his hand on my waist, thumb brushing slow circles into the fabric of my dress as I leaned into him. His lips ghosted against my hair as he murmured, "You look so damn pretty tonight."

My face flushed instantly, but I didn't move.

He tilted his head, his voice a little rougher now. "If we were alone, I would've had you up on this counter already."

I snorted, pulling back just enough to look up at him. "You're being a little bold considering there's a whole crowd of people outside right now."

Joel smirked, dark and amused. "I'd still do it."

I raised an eyebrow. "You wish."

He leaned in close enough that his breath skimmed my jaw. "You wish," he murmured.

I bit my lip, half-smiling, and turned back to the cake like I wasn't already melting. The moment stretched quiet again as I opened the box and stared at the smooth white frosting, the simple swirl of chocolate writing that read Happy Birthday, Dad. I reached for the little box of candles and started placing them one by one, slow and precise like it actually mattered where they went.

After a beat, I glanced over at Joel. "You think he'll like it?"

Joel didn't hesitate. "He'll love it." Then his eyes flicked to mine, soft and sure. "And he'd love you no matter what."

That got me. My heart skipped a beat.

I looked down quickly and grabbed the lighter off the counter, flicking it on and lighting the candles carefully, one by one, the little flames dancing to life. Joel stood back and watched me. When I was done, I lifted the cake in both hands, holding it steady as I turned toward him.

He stepped ahead and opened the sliding door. "After you."

I took a breath and walked out into the night, the cool air brushing against my skin as the backyard opened up in front of me again. Joel followed behind, close enough that I could feel him there.

My dad was over by the fire pit, clearly a lot of drinks in, his face flushed, beer still in hand. I started walking toward him, careful with the cake, and somewhere behind me, someone started singing.

Then another.

And then the whole backyard joined in.

Happy birthday to you...

My dad looked up, blinking like he hadn't noticed the whole world turning toward him until now. He saw the cake in my hands, saw me walking up with a sheepish grin, and his whole face lit up.

He stood, a little wobbly but steady enough, grinning ear to ear as he moved beside me. I could feel the warmth of him at my side, his arm brushing mine as he looked out over the crowd of people singing just for him.

Happy birthday dear Theo...

I glanced up at him as he threw his arm around my shoulder and pulled me in, laughing.

Happy birthday to you.

He leaned forward, took a breath, and blew out the candles in one strong, exaggerated huff. Everyone cheered.

I held the cake steady, eyes locked on his smile. The same one I used to watch from the backseat on long drives, or across the dinner table while he made dumb jokes that I rolled my eyes at but secretly loved.

My dad turned to the crowd, a little unsteady but smiling big that made everyone else want to smile too.

He raised his beer and cleared his throat like he was about to give a speech at a wedding or something, and immediately a few of his friends started heckling, telling him to "keep it short, old man."

He chuckled. "Alright, alright. I'll make it quick." Everyone laughed, even Joel, who was standing just behind the circle of guests, arms crossed over his chest, watching.

"I just wanna say thank you," my dad said, scanning the backyard. "To everyone who came out tonight, even though I know some of y'all have to work in the morning and would rather be on the couch in sweats."

That got a few cheers and raised glasses.

"But seriously, getting older doesn't bother me much. The knees hurt, yeah. Can't drink like I used to. Back cracks when I breathe too hard..." He paused for dramatic effect and earned another wave of laughter. "But every birthday I get is another year I get to be here. To love my people. Especially this one right here."

He looked down at me, arm still slung across my shoulder, and his voice shifted just a little. "My girl, Olivia. My heart. Every year I get with her is a gift I don't take for granted. Even when I'm a hard ass or being an asshole. Even when she's being a brat. Especially then. I just want the best for her."

I felt my throat tighten and tried to blink fast enough to stop it.

"She's turned into this... thoughtful, kind, smart woman, right in front of me. And I'm just lucky I get to watch it happen. Lucky I get to be her dad."

Someone in the crowd let out a soft "Aww," and a few others clapped. I leaned into my dad a little, just enough so he'd feel it. He squeezed my shoulder.

My dad scanned the crowd, his smile still big and a little glazed. And then, he locked eyes with Joel.

Fuck.

"You," he said, pointing right at him. "Joel. Get your ass up here."

I looked over to see Joel straighten slightly, a crease forming between his brows. He shook his head once, small, like maybe my dad wouldn't press. But that hope died quick.

"No seriously, c'mon," Dad said, waving him forward. "Don't make me look like I'm drunk-talking to myself up here."

A ripple of laughter went through the crowd again, and reluctantly, Joel stepped forward. His shoulders were tense, and I could tell he hated every second of the spotlight, but he still made his way to us. He paused just short of the firelight, eyes flicking toward me. I gave him a little smile—half reassurance, half apology.

My dad threw his other arm around Joel's shoulders, pulling him in "Alright," he said, raising his beer like a mic. "Let me tell you all about this guy right here."

Joel shifted under the weight of the attention, eyes narrowing slightly like he was preparing for impact.

"This man," my dad began, "is a real one. He's taken my daughter under his wing for her internship—hell, he basically created it for her. And I don't think he knows how much that means to me. He really took care of my girl and he didn't have to."

The crowd quieted down, actually listening.

"She's always been this driven, curious kid, and now she's got this chance to learn from one of the best. And I didn't even have to bribe him to do it." He looked at Joel, eyes a little glassy. "You have no idea how much I owe you for that, brother. You probably saved me from a heart attack."

A few people laughed, and Joel gave a modest, almost embarrassed smile.

"And listen—if anyone here ever needs a house built or if yours was blown over in a windstorm..." My dad paused for effect, and the crowd erupted. "Call Joel. He's your guy. He'll help you collect the insurance."

Joel dipped his head, chuckling low under his breath.

"Oh," Dad added, pointing at him again, "and if he ever offers you a bottle of scotch? Say no. That shit's how I ended up like this tonight."

Everyone laughed again, and Joel just shook his head, eyes flicking toward me for a split second. I laughed too. My stomach twisted, watching my dad sing Joel's praises so openly. The kind of praise that meant trust. The kind of praise that said you're family.

And all I could think was, how are we supposed to look him in the eye when it all comes out? When the truth eventually catches up to us?

My throat felt dry again.

My dad finally stepped back a little and raised his beer one last time. "Now somebody cut this cake before I black out."

More laughter. A few cheers.

Joel stepped back first, giving my dad a quick pat on the back before moving toward me. I handed off the knife to someone else and followed him as we slipped past the crowd.

"Didn't think I was gettin' dragged into that." he murmured, voice low.

I gave him a sideways glance, my heart still thudding. "Me neither but we both survived."

He nodded once, then glanced back toward my dad, who was already rejoining the conversation like nothing happened. "He meant every word, y'know."

"Yeah — I know." I said softly. Joel looked at me then, really looked. I didn't have to say the rest. He knew. For a beat, neither of us spoke.

Then he bumped my shoulder gently. "C'mon," he said, voice lighter, "I know you're craving something sweet."

[adoreispunk]

Out of Reach (joel miller au)

“In the movies, this is the part where the guy chases her down the hallway, says something that flips the whole thing around, makes it right again. But this wasn't a movie. This was me, sitting in a cold, quiet office, realizing I'd never let myself want something this much. And I'd pushed it away.”

wc: 4.3k

content warning: 18+ MDNI.

an: hellooo:) we're nearing the end, thank you guys for all the🩷 if you guys have any other fic or even one shot ideas you’d like to read, let me know!! I love using all my free time to think and write about this man🙂‍↕️

masterlist (19)

nineteen

The air felt different now.

Like something had shifted. Like maybe, for the first time in weeks, this could actually go somewhere. I wasn't ready to call it hope, but it was close.

Sarah hadn't been mad. She just wanted honesty. And maybe Olivia would feel the same. Maybe I'd been holding on too tight to my doubts. Letting the fear of it all falling apart keep me from seeing what was right in front of me.

I could do this. I could be with her.

But when I rounded the corner and saw her desk, that feeling dropped out from under me. She was standing, bag open, things already half-packed.

"What are you doing?" I said, keeping my distance.

She didn't look at me. Just kept packing. "I'm going home. Gonna finish my work there."

Something twisted in my chest. "Why?"

"Because I'm uncomfortable, Joel," she snapped. "What do you think?"

"I didn't know Sarah was gonna show up."

"That's not the point," she said, finally looking at me, eyes sharp and shining. "She showed up, and you looked like you'd seen a ghost. I shouldn't have even touched you"

I stepped closer, my voice drier. "Don't say that."

She laughed. "No? 'Didn't know her,' right? That's what you told her."

"I didn't mean it like that."

"Then how did you mean it?" she asked, arms crossed tight across her chest. "Because from where I was standing, it felt like I'm something that only belongs behind closed doors."

"I was trying to protect you," I said. "Protect us."

"No," she said, stepping back, "you're trying to protect your family."

I froze.

Her voice cracked when she continued. "And I get it. I do. You have Sarah. You've got this whole life, this world that I don't fit into."

"Don't say that."

She shook her head. "Why not? It's true, Joel. We don't live in the same world. You've got a house, a daughter, responsibilities I'll never understand. And I'm... what? A phase? A distraction?"

"No," I said, sharper than I meant to. "You're not—God, you're not just some distraction ."

"I fell for you," she said suddenly, voice low. "That day you took me to the creek? That's when it hit. That's when I started seeing you not as some complicated, off-limits man, but as someone I wanted."

I didn't speak. Couldn't.

"But I'm not just trying to play house with you," she went on, and now she was shaking. "I'm not pretending we're something we're not. I don't need some fantasy. I needed you. And today just proved I could never be part of your life to begin with."

"I want this. I want you." I said desperately.

"Then why didn't you at least tell her I was interning? You're lying to everyone including yourself." Her voice cracked again.

"I didn't think it through," I said, barely above a whisper. "I thought... keepin' it quiet meant I was keepin' it safe. But maybe you're right. Maybe I was just lying to myself. Scared of ruining this"

"It's already ruined, Joel." She finally grabs her things in one motion and heads for the door. I don't know what to do, how to stop her. I said more than I thought I ever could.

"Liv, come on."

She stopped at the door, her hand on the handle, and for a second I thought maybe she'd turn around. That maybe I'd said just enough.

She looked over her shoulder, jaw tight, eyes rimmed red. "Don't fucking call me that."

The door clicked shut behind her, the sound final in a way that hit harder than I expected.

I stood there, watching the empty space she'd left behind, my arms limp at my sides. The air that just minutes ago felt hopeful, heavy with maybe, was gone. Dropped right out from under me.

I let out a breath and sank into the chair nearest me, elbows to knees, hands dragging down my face. Embarrassed at my effort and my confession.

She was right. Every damn word of it.

I thought I was doing the right thing. That I was shielding her from the mess I've made of my life. But that wasn't protection. That was fear, fear of what would happen if anyone knew how badly I wanted her. How badly I still do.

I didn't protect her. I hurt her. And worse, I made her feel like she didn't belong. Made her feel like she was just some play pretend.

In the movies, this is the part where the guy chases her down the hallway, says something that flips the whole thing around, makes it right again. But this wasn't a movie. This was me, sitting in a cold, quiet office, realizing I'd never let myself want something this much. And I'd pushed it away.

I'm not the type to force things. Never have been. If something wasn't mine, I let it go. That's just how I was built. But this time felt different. She felt different.

I stood up before I even knew what I was doing, grabbing my keys off the desk with a quiet curse. I should've called, should've waited, should've given her space but I couldn't. Not this time. Not when she still thought she was just some phase.

By the time I hit the road, my hands were tight on the wheel, knuckles pale with nerves. I drove like I was on autopilot through streets I barely registered, heart thudding loud in my chest the whole way.

But when I turned onto her street, it hit me. That wave of doubt, thick and sharp.

What the fuck am I doing. Showin up only makes things worse. She said it herself, she's done. I slowed, my foot hovering over the brake, tempted to back out.

Then I saw her. She was just getting out of her car, bag slung over one shoulder, her hair tied back, head down like the day had already wrung her out completely.

I pulled over without thinking, killed the engine, and stepped out.

She looked up at the sound of my door closing—and froze.

Her brows pulled together, voice cautious. "What are you doing here?"

I opened my mouth, but the words got caught somewhere halfway up my throat. All that certainty I had behind the wheel, all the conviction, it cracked when I saw her.

"I... I don't know," I said, hands loose at my sides. "Swear to God, I feel like I blacked out or somethin'. I just couldn't let you leave like that."

She stared at me, jaw clenched, saying nothing. I couldn't tell if she was pissed or just stunned.

"I know I fucked it up," I went on, stepping closer, slower now. "And I'm not here to make excuses. I just — I need you to hear me out."

There was a long beat where she didn't say a word. She just looked at me like she was trying to figure out if this was real, if I was really standing on her driveway. After everything I said, everything I didn't.

Then finally, her shoulders dropped a little. She glanced toward the house, then back at me.

"Fine," she muttered. "Come inside."

I followed her in, quiet, the tension so thick I could barely breathe. She didn't look at me as she kicked off her shoes, didn't wait for me to catch up as she walked down the hall. I followed anyway.

We ended up in the living room, the silence between us heavy. She stayed standing near the arm of the couch, arms crossed again, like it was her armor. Like letting me in meant she had to guard herself harder.

"Okay," she said. "Five minutes."

I nodded, taking a breath that felt like it scraped down my chest. "I panicked. I looked at Sarah and I panicked, and instead of owning it, I said the most cowardly thing I could've said. And the second I did... I wanted to take it back."

Her face didn't change. She didn't interrupt. Just listened. I pressed on.

"I didn't mean it. You know that, right? I didn't mean you, I meant the situation. I thought if I could just keep it separate, maybe it wouldn't fall apart. But I see now... I was never protecting you. And that's on me."

I watched her jaw twitch, saw the way she blinked a few times, fast. But she still didn't say anything.

"I'm not good at this," I said. "At wantin' things. At takin' 'em when they're right in front of me. Always figured if I kept my head down, did my job, kept things clean, I wouldn't risk screwin' it all up."

"But you did," she said finally, voice quiet.

"I know," I said. "I know I did."

A pause.

"I don't want to be a secret," she said. "I don't want to feel like I'm just someone you fuck behind locked doors."

"You're not," I said, firmer now. "I want you," I said, stepping closer. "Not just for a weekend. Not just when things are easy. I want to figure it out, even if it's messy at first. Even if your dad wants to kill me. Even if we have to slow it down."

Her arms uncrossed slowly. I could see her soften—just a little, just enough. She ran a hand over her face like she was trying to wipe away the last few hours.

She exhaled slowly, bracing her palms in her lap. "When I was younger... middle school, even high school, it always felt like if a boy liked me, he had to pretend he didn't."

I didn't interrupt. I just watched her, listened.

"I wasn't the prettiest. I was awkward. Quiet. I had braces forever, wore the wrong jeans." She smiled faintly but it didn't reach her eyes. "The boys would joke around with me when no one was looking. Text me late at night. But in public? It was like I didn't exist."

My hands balled into fists slowly, instinctively.

"And then in college, I met someone who felt different," she went on. "He was older too. Charming and kind. Said all the right things. We weren't serious, but he made me feel like we could be. Behind closed doors, at least."

I could feel my jaw tighten. Her confession felt all too familiar.

"But when his friends were around?" she said, shaking her head. "We'd go to parties and he'd barely talk to me. Wouldn't sit next to me. He'd find me later, alone, say he just didn't want people in our business. That we were better when it was just us. And I let it slide," she said. "Because he made me feel important in private. Because I thought that was better than nothing."

Her voice broke a little.

"But when I saw your face today, when Sarah walked in, I knew that feeling. And I know the situation is different, I know this is your family. But it was that same gut-punch. That same invisible ache." Her head fell, she looked down at the floor scanning around nervously.

"Liv," I said, stepping closer, my voice rough with guilt. I reached out, tilting her chin up gently, forcing her to look at me. "You shouldn't ever feel like that with anyone, especially me. I hate that someone made you feel that way before. Hate myself more for makin' you feel it again."

She didn't pull away, just held my gaze, her eyes searching mine like she was waiting for me to prove it. "I know you didn't mean to," she said softly. "But it doesn't make it hurt less."

"I know," I said, my thumb brushing her cheek, "You're everything I've been too scared to admit I wanted. You could be in a crowd, and I'd still want to reach for you, want everyone to know you're mine. Fuck, I'd shout it if you asked."

Her breath hitched, a flicker of something softening in her expression, like the ice was starting to crack. "Don't say that unless you mean it," she said, her voice shaky but firm.

"I do," I said, no hesitation, "Every fucking word."

The air between us shifted, heavy with everything we'd laid bare. I leaned in, slow, giving her time to pull back, my heart pounding like I was a kid again. She didn't move, just watched me, her lips parting slightly, and that was all the permission I needed. I kissed her, a soft press of my lips to hers, trying to show her I wanted her. I really wanted her. My hand cupped her face, the other resting on her waist, and I felt her tense for a moment, like she was still guarding herself.

Then she kissed me back, hesitant, her lips moving softly against mine, testing me. The warmth of her, the faint taste of mint on her breath, it pulled me in, and I deepened the kiss, my fingers threading into her hair, my body pressing closer. I wanted her to feel it, to know I wasn't hiding anymore. Her hands found my chest, fingers curling into my shirt, and the kiss grew hungrier, more desperate, like we were both letting go of the doubt.

I pulled back just enough to look at her, my forehead resting against hers, our breaths mingling. "I'm sorry," I murmured.

She nodded, her eyes glassy but softer now, and kissed me again, harder this time, her hands sliding up to my shoulders. The couch was right behind her, and I guided her back, gentle but firm, laying her over the arm so she was half-reclined, her body open to me. I followed, bracing myself above her, one hand on the couch, the other cupping her face as I kissed her deeper, my tongue brushing hers, slow and deliberate. Her legs parted slightly, and I settled between them, feeling the heat of her, the way she arched into me, her breath hitching.

The kiss turned molten, all heat and need, her hands tugging at my shirt like she couldn't get close enough. I groaned into her mouth, my hand sliding down her side, tracing the curve of her hip, pulling her tighter against me. I whispered against her lips, my voice thick, "Take me to your room."

She froze for a second, her eyes searching mine, and I saw the flicker of hesitation, the question of whether this was real. But then she nodded, her lips brushing mine in a quick, soft kiss before she slid out from under me, standing on shaky legs. "Okay," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, and she took my hand, leading me up the stairs.

Her room was small, a time capsule of her, untouched since she'd been back for the break. The walls were a faded lavender, covered with posters of indie bands and a corkboard pinned with polaroids, concert tickets, and notes in her loopy handwriting. A shelf held a jumble of well-loved books—classics like Pride and Prejudice next to battered sci-fi novels—and a collection of sea shells. The bed was a mess of colorful blankets, a worn stuffed bear half-buried in the pillows, and soft glow of lights strung over the headboard. A small desk in the corner was cluttered with a half-burned candle. The air carried a faint vanilla scent, warm and familiar, like her. Every detail screamed Olivia. It made my chest ache, seeing how she'd never tried to be anything but who she was, while I'd spent so long hiding how much she meant to me.

She stopped in the middle of the room, her arms braced across her chest, that hesitation creeping back. I could see it in the way her shoulders tensed, the way her eyes flicked to the floor, like she was still guarding herself, still unsure if she could trust.

"Come here," I said, my voice low, soft, stepping closer but keeping enough space so she didn't feel cornered. I held out my hand, letting her choose.

She looked at me, her eyes searching, and after a beat, she stepped forward, taking my hand. I pulled her gently against me, my hands settling on her waist, and kissed her again, slow and deep, pouring everything into it. I wanted her to feel safe. Her hands slid up my chest, and she melted into the kiss, her body softening, the tension easing again.

I guided her back to the bed, but instead of laying her down, I sat on the edge, my hands on her hips, giving her space to step back if she needed it. I looked up at her, my eyes steady, letting her see I wasn't forcing this. But she didn't step back. Her gaze locked on mine, and she climbed onto my lap, straddling me, her thighs bracketing my hips. The weight of her, the heat of her against me, sent a jolt through me, and I groaned softly, my hands tightening on her waist.

I kissed her again, my lips trailing to her jaw, her neck, feeling her pulse under my mouth. My hands sliding under her shirt, rough palms grazing her skin. "Every time I'm with you, it's like I'm seein' you for the first time." I pulled her shirt over her head, tossing it aside, my eyes raking over her, taking in the soft curve of her shoulders, the black bra that hugged her perfectly. "I don't deserve you, but I'm gonna try to," I said, unhooking her bra, letting it fall, my hands cupping her breasts, thumbs brushing her nipples, drawing a soft moan from her.

I kissed her chest, slow and deliberate, my lips tracing the curve of her breast, my tongue flicking over her nipple, making her gasp. "You're everything." I murmured against her skin, my hands sliding down her sides, pulling her closer. I moved lower, kissing her stomach, my hands working her pants off, leaving her in just her panties. I looked up at her, her hair falling loose, her eyes half-lidded. I lifted her gently, laying her back on the bed, the colorful blankets soft beneath her.

I slid her panties down, tossing them aside, and settled between her thighs, my hands spreading her open, my lips brushing the inside of her thigh. " Wanna take my time with you," I said, my voice low, kissing her skin, slow and deliberate, working my way closer. My tongue traced her, slow and gentle at first, tasting her, feeling her tremble under me. I took my time, savoring every gasp, every hitch in her breath, my hands gripping her hips to keep her steady. "Always taste so fuckin' good," I murmured, my lips against her, my tongue circling her clit, slow and precise, drawing out a moan that made my blood run hot.

"Keep talking to me." she gasped, her hands tangling in my hair, her hips bucking, and I smiled against her, my tongue working her, deeper now, my lips closing around her, sucking gently. " 'Could stay here forever, just makin' you feel good." I dove back in, my tongue teasing her entrance, then flicking her clit, faster now, but still controlled, watching her reactions, learning what made her moan louder, what made her tremble.

Her moans grew desperate, her body arching, and I kept going, my hands sliding up to cup her breasts, pinching her nipples gently, making her cry out. "That's it, babygirl" I murmured, my lips brushing her, "let me hear you." I felt her getting close, her thighs trembling, her breaths coming faster, and I slowed down, drawing it out, wanting her to feel every second of it.

She came undone, her body shaking, her moan breaking into a cry as her orgasm hit, her hands gripping my hair, pulling me closer. I didn't stop, licking her through it, gentle now, drawing out every shudder, every pulse, until she was panting, her body limp beneath me. I kissed my way up her body, slow and tender, my lips lingering on her stomach, her chest, her neck, until I reached her lips, kissing her deep, letting her taste herself on me.

I pulled back, grabbing the blanket at the foot of the bed, draping it over us as I settled above her in missionary, wanting to feel closer, to wrap us in this moment. I kicked off my jeans and boxers, my shirt already gone, and positioned myself, my eyes locked on hers. "Am I the first one to fuck you on this bed?" I asked, my voice low, rough, my lips brushing her ear as I teased her entrance, slow and deliberate.

She nodded, her breath shaky. "Yeah," she whispered, her eyes locked on mine, a mix of vulnerability and want. "Just you."

A growl rumbled in my chest, the thought of being the only one. "Did you touch yourself here, thinkin' about me?" I asked, my hand sliding down her thigh, lifting her leg to wrap around me, feeling her heat against me.

"Yes," she gasped, her hips arching into me, her voice trembling with want. "Fuck, Joel, all the time." The thought of her in this bed, touching herself, thinking of me, made my chest tighten with a possessive kind of need. I kissed her hard, my tongue teasing hers, my thrusts slow and deep, savoring the way she clenched around me and the way her moans tasted.

"What'd you think about?" I asked, my voice low and rough, my lips brushing her ear as I held her gaze, my eyes locked on hers. "Tell me, angel. wanna hear you." I wanted every detail, wanted to know how she saw me in those moments, how I filled her mind when I wasn't here. My hands gripped her hips, guiding her into each thrust, deliberate, making her feel every inch of me.

She smiled, a soft, delicate sound that broke the intensity for a moment, her cheeks flushing as she looked at me, her eyes bright under the lights. The sound was so "God, Joel," she said, her voice light but shaky, her hands sliding up my arms, fingers tracing the muscles there. "The first time you fucked me —mhm—Your arms, The way you look at me, like you couldn't get enough."

I groaned, my thrusts slowing, deeper now, my eyes never leaving hers, drinking in every word. "Keep goin'," I murmured, my voice thick, one hand sliding up to cup her face, my thumb brushing her lips.

Her breath hitched, her eyes fluttering but holding mine, a mix of shy and bold. "Fuck—The way you fit in me," she whispered, her voice breaking into a moan as I thrust harder, just right, like she was describing. "thinking about how you stretched me, how you made me shake." She moaned again, softer, her cheeks pink, and it was the sweetest damn thing.

"Jesus—" I growled, my lips crashing into hers, trying to stop myself from finishing right there. The bed creaking under us, the blanket slipping slightly. "You're killin' me," I said against her mouth, my hand sliding between us, fingers circling her clit, wanting her to feel it all over again. "Think about you too, every damn night, how you feel, how you sound." Her moans grew louder, her body trembling, and I held her gaze, letting her see how much she meant.

She gasped, her hands clutching my shoulders, her nails digging in, and I set a steady rhythm, each thrust deliberate, hitting that spot that made her moan. "so fuckin' good," I murmured, my lips against her neck, the blanket cocooning us, "Joel," she moaned, her legs tightening around me, pulling me deeper, her voice desperate.

"Don't stop," she gasped, her nails raking my back, her body trembling beneath me. "Please, Joel." She cried out, her body shaking as her second orgasm hit, her walls gripping me tight, pulling me deeper. "Oh my fucking god." she gasped, her voice breaking, and I groaned, thrusting through her release, the feel of her pushing me over the edge. "Fuck," I growled, my hips stuttering as I spilled inside her, my body trembling, my lips finding hers in a messy, desperate kiss.

We stayed like that, panting, my forehead pressed to hers, the blanket warm around us, our breaths mingling. I pulled back to look at her, my hand cupping her face, my thumb brushing her cheek. "You okay?" I asked, my voice low, checking in.

She nodded, her eyes soft, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Yeah," she whispered, her hand resting on my chest, her touch warm. "I believe you."

I kissed her again, slow and tender, and rolled us so she was on top, her body draped over mine, the blankets tangling around us. We lay there for a while, not talking, just taking in each other's breaths, the blanket still tangled over our bodies. Her head rested on my chest, her fingers tracing lazy circles over my skin. I held her close, my hand resting on her hip, feeling the steady rise and fall of her breathing. The faint vanilla scent of her room lingered, making the moment feel contrasting to the morning we had.

After a while, she shifted slightly, her fingers pausing their circles, her voice soft but laced with a nervous edge. "Joel... how are we gonna tell my dad?" she asked, her eyes flicking up to mine, a mix of worry and hope in them.

I let out a slow breath, my hand squeezing her hip gently. "We'll figure it out. Together." I brushed a strand of hair from her face, giving her a small, reassuring smile.

She nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips, the tension easing from her shoulders. "Good," she said, her voice lighter now, a playful glint in her eyes. "Because I can't fight."

[adoreispunk]

Out of Reach (joel miller au)

“She didn't step away but instead she looked up at me. We looked at each other for a second and both started moving in. Letting everything we just said go to shit. I was just thinking about her and I wasn't sure who would be the first to move.”

wc: 4.8k

an: 2 chapter for my children today:)) enjoy💋 we have a little special guest this chapter.

masterlist (18)

eighteen

I left the office to go to a site. I didn't need to go but it was a better alternative than being stuck in that office with her. I didn't even hear the door click shut behind me over the sound of my own heartbeat. Didn't matter. What's done is done.

And for once, I was glad she shut me out. Glad she didn't try to argue or cry or ask me why. I saw that tear, yeah but I also saw the way she squared her shoulders after. The way she pretended I was just a boss, just another asshole with a title. She was quick about it, cold in that way she didn't usually let herself be. I hated it but I needed it.

We'd finished the week. She'd get her hours. and then we'd both move the hell on. That was the deal now.

By the time I got to the job site, I felt lighter. Not good, but lighter. I walked the perimeter, checked in with the foreman, barked out a few corrections on framing measurements that had been pissing me off for a week. The guys gave me space, they always did when I came in tight like this.

By the time I wrapped up and got back to the office, the sun was already slanting low. I pulled into the lot, half-expecting her car to still be there.

It wasn't.

I looked toward her desk and saw the neat stack of papers, everything in order. Final job listings, organized by deadline. A printed summary of contacts, notes from a guy we hired the week prior and a list of tasks she'd scheduled out in the project manager for the next three weeks.

Didn't say goodbye. Didn't leave a note. Just dropped everything off like she couldn't stand to be in the same room another second longer. I'm honestly surprised she left everything so neat. It felt like I deserved to come back to my office wrecked.

I sat at my desk for a while, flipping through the papers like they mattered more than they did. In reality, I didn't read a single word. I decided it was best to head home before I let my mind start to wander again.

The house was quiet when I got in. Sarah had left a note on the fridge "Out with friends. Don't wait up. Love you.". She always left me notes like this. That same casual handwriting .

I dropped my keys on the counter, peeled off my shirt, and made my way down the hall without turning on a single light. The weight of the day hadn't hit me until I stood in the bathroom, door shut behind me, the only sound was my own breath.

I turned the water on hot. Let the steam rise. Then stepped in.

It was a relief, more than anything. The kind that sinks into your bones and slows everything down. My shoulders dropped for the first time all day, the heat pulling the tension out inch by inch. I tilted my head back, let the spray hit my face.

But I couldn't stop seeing her.

She'd stood right here. Arms raised, eyes closed, water running down her chest, her stomach, her thighs. The way her hair clung to her skin. The way she used to look at me like I was the only man alive.

I used to stand here and watch her. I used to trace her with my eyes like I was memorizing every curve, every freckle, every goddamn breath she took.

I pressed a hand to the tile. Let the water beat against my back. It felt relieving. Like maybe I could scrub the memory off me if I stayed in here long enough. I knew I was lying to myself.

I got out once the mirror fogged over and the bathroom felt too warm to breathe in. Toweled off slow, dragged a hand through my hair, still half-lost in that space between numb and remembering.

I picked up my phone knowing it wasn't the best to be alone tonight.

You around tonight? Could use a visit.

Tommy replied quick.

On my way.

I tossed the phone back on the counter and grabbed a clean shirt from the laundry room.

I didn't want to be alone tonight. Not with these ghosts. Not with the feel of her still stuck somewhere in my memory.

Tommy showed up about twenty minutes after I texted, six-pack in one hand, that look on his face like he already knew I wasn't doing great. He let himself in door and shut it behind him with his boot.

"You look like hell." He said looking up at me.

I didn't bother denying it. Just cracked open a beer and leaned against the counter. "Feel it. Thanks for the warm welcome."

"You sleepin'?"

I didn't answer.

He took a sip and tilted his head. "That's a no."

We moved to the living room, quiet for a while, just the low buzz of some late-night sports show I didn't bother muting. Tommy kicked his feet up, leaned back like he had nowhere better to be.

We caught up on work and I let him know Sarah was in town. He perked up and immediately started making plans. If there was one thing Tommy and I had in common, we loved that girl. After a few beers, tommy opened up about his personal shit.

"I've been seein' someone," he said. "Sorta. I don't know. Met her at the bar near that job we had in Houston. Kinda fiery. Got that look like she knows how to hurt a man and enjoy it."

I let out a dry chuckle. "Sounds like your type."

"Yeah, well, turns out she's also real fond of her ex. Calls me his name in bed."

I raised an eyebrow. "Fuck."

"Exactly. I told her, next time she does that, I'm walkin'. She said maybe I should take it as a compliment."

We sat in silence after that, both sipping our beers, both pretending like that wasn't sad as hell.

Eventually, I ran a hand down my face.

Tommy glanced over. "Alright. Your turn."

"What?" I answered caught off guard.

"You didn't invite me here just to listen to my shit, Joel. Spill it."

I hesitated. I didn't want to tell him or anyone in the first place. It feltlike if I started, I wouldn't be able to stop. Still, I didn't look at him when I spoke.

"You remember Theo?"

"Your buddy from the old crew? From Austin?"

"Yeah. Him."

He gave a nod. "Sure. Family guy."

"Had a daughter," I said, and the minute I said it, I felt the weight shift. "Olivia."

Tommy squinted, thinking. "Wait... was she the quiet one? Used to hang around with Sarah all the time."

I gave a faint nod. "That's her."

He blinked. "She can't be more than..."

"Twenty-two."

That shut him up for a second.

"She came back this summer," I went on. "College internship. Theo reached out, asked if I could bring her on part-time, show her some of the ropes."

Tommy didn't say anything, but I could feel him watching me.

"It started out innocent. Professional. She was curious. Didn't just do the work. She asked questions, wanted to know why things worked the way they did."

I took another sip. My mouth was dry anyway.

"She got under my skin. Not in a loud way. Just... little things. The way she looked at me when she thought I wasn't payin' attention. The way she listened."

Tommy leaned forward slowly. "Dammit Joel."

"I know," I snapped. "Don't say it. Just...don't."

He backed off, held up a hand. "Alright."

"I didn't plan it," I muttered. "Didn't mean for anything to happen. But it did."

He sat there for a second, eyebrows drawn together. "Happen how?"

I gave him a hard look.

His jaw clenched. "You slept with her?"

I didn't answer, but it was enough.

Tommy stood up, started pacing. "Jesus, Joel. You realize what kind of trouble that could cause?"

"I know."

"She's your friend's daughter."

"I know."

He stopped pacing. "And she's young. Like—young young."

"I said I fuckin' know," I snapped, sharper than I meant to. Silence fell between us like a hammer.

He rubbed a hand down his face. "Alright. Okay. You didn't bring me here to yell at you. I just...shit. This is a lot."

I looked down at my hands. "You think I don't know that?"

He sat again, slower this time. "So what, you in love with her?"

"I'm not talkin' about that."

"Because you don't know, or because you do and you don't want to admit it?"

I stayed quiet.

Tommy sighed. "Alright. Look—I'm not saying it's right. Hell, it's messy. But if you really care about her..."

"I already let it go."

Tommy's brow furrowed. "You mean you ended it?"

I nodded once. "Had to. Told her it couldn't happen again. Told her it was over."

He looked at me for a long beat. "She take that well?"

I let out a breath. "She didn't beg. Didn't cry. Just... shut me out. Got real quiet, real fast. Packed up my work, left the office like I was a stranger."

Tommy whistled low. "Damn."

"I figured it was the right thing to do. I mean—hell, it is the right thing. She's too young. There's a hundred reasons I shouldn't have gone near her."

"But?" Tommy asked, already knowing there was one.

"But I can't stop thinkin' about her," I admitted, barely above a whisper. "Still see her face every time I close my eyes. Still hear her laugh when the house is quiet."

Tommy didn't say anything. Just listened.

"And Sarah almost caught her."

That made him sit up. "What?"

I nodded, slow. "I sent her home that morning, early. We'd spent the night. She stayed over, and I—I was stupid. Got caught up. Sarah pulled up out front and I damn near threw myself out the back door."

Tommy leaned back in his chair, shaking his head. "Man..."

"Yeah," I said. "Tell me about it."

"You ever think about tellin' her the truth? Sarah, I mean."

"No." My answer was immediate, solid. "That'd break her. I already crossed one line—draggin' her into it would burn everything down."

Tommy ran a hand through his hair. "So what now?"

I didn't answer right away. Just stared down at the floor.

"I don't know," I finally said. "I tried to end it. I really did. But she's still in my head. Still feels like she's everywhere, even when she ain't here."

Tommy nodded, slow. "You know... I give you shit, 'cause I'm your brother and it's easy. But I know you, Joel. You don't lose your head like this unless it means somethin'. And maybe this ain't what you wanted. Maybe it ain't even what makes sense. But if you keep tryin' to pretend you don't feel it? It's gonna eat you alive."

I swallowed hard. Didn't say anything. Couldn't.

Because deep down, I already knew he was right.

"And you need to figure out what the hell you want, and soon. 'Cause if you don't? You're just gonna tear both of you apart tryin' to pretend it didn't happen."

"She's probably over all of this already." I said trying to knock the idea from my head.

"You're a grown man and you're feeling this way. You think the 20 year old girl is over it?"

I chuckled, realizing maybe things could get better. I finished the beer and let the bottle rest on my knee. My voice came out low.

"She was the only thing that made me feel anything like that in a long time."

Tommy looked at me for a beat, softer now. "That's all you had to say."

I didn't reply. Just stared at the TV like it held answers I wasn't gonna get tonight.

But it felt better. Not good but lighter. And that was enough, for now.

Tommy cracked another beer, this one slower. His mood had evened out some. Mine too. The air between us had settled, heavier but clearer. Like dragging everything out into the open let us both breathe again.

We didn't say much for a while, both of us staring at the TV like the score of a game we weren't actually watching had any real meaning.

Then the sound of the front door opening cut through the quiet. Keys hit the hook on the wall. Footsteps padded in, light and familiar.

Tommy sat up straighter, already grinning. "That her?"

"Yeah," I said, just as Sarah stepped into the room, hoodie half-zipped, and her hair a little messy.

"Hey," she smiled, stopping in the doorway when she saw Tommy. "No way."

Tommy stood and opened his arms like she was still a little kid. "There's my girl."

Sarah laughed and walked right into his arms, wrapping around him like nothing had changed. Like she still remembered sitting on his shoulders at state fairs and begging him to sneak her treats when I said no.

"You didn't tell me he would be here tonight." she said to me over his shoulder.

"Didn't know he was gonna be. He just shows up sometimes."

Tommy pulled back, giving her a once-over. "Yeah right."

Sarah flopped onto the couch between us, like it was all hers. "So what're y'all doing? Solving the world's problems?"

"Somethin' like that," I said, and Tommy chuckled.

Sarah smiled, but it was softer now. Quieter. She looked between us, two men worn down by life, beer bottles on the table, the TV humming low and I swear, for a second, I saw something settle behind her eyes. Like just being here with both of us made her feel safe. Like this room still felt like home.

"You guys always look like this when you talk?" she asked. "All broody and serious?"

Tommy laughed. "Only when your dad's confessing deep emotional turmoil."

I shot him a look, but Sarah just smirked. "Sounds about right."

She leaned back into the cushions, let her head fall against my shoulder. Like when she was little and couldn't sleep unless she knew I was right there.

Tommy tilted his beer toward Sarah. "You keep this one grounded, alright? He's a mess without you."

Sarah smiled, eyes half-closed already. "Always have."

I looked down at her, at the girl who still managed to remind me who I was without ever trying. Then up at Tommy, who'd sat with me through the worst of it tonight without flinching.

It didn't fix anything. Not really. But it reminded me of who I had. Who I still was, underneath it all. And maybe that was enough to hold onto. For now.

Tommy ended up staying the night and I headed up to bed once I saw him dozing off. I actually slept well after ending off the night with both of them. The comfort of us being together again made me forget about my racing thoughts.

——————————-

Driving in felt heavier than usual. I was starting to feel like every morning for the rest of the week was gonna feel like some kind of performance. I rubbed a hand down my face, sighed, then got out and walked in.

She was already at her desk.

And of course, she was wearing a tight black skirt again. The kind that clung to her. The kind that made me wonder if I ever actually had control around her, or if I'd just been telling myself that all along.

The blouse was silk or something close to it, a low neckline and soft enough to stick to her skin like it wanted to be touched. Her legs were crossed, one heel bouncing absently while she typed something. Didn't look up when I walked in.

Christ.

I dropped my stuff and stood there, watching her a second too long. Couldn't help myself. She was doing it on purpose. She had to be.

Or maybe she had plans. Maybe she was going out after. Seeing someone. That thought put a sharp crack through my chest before I could shut it down.

I cleared my throat, voice flat. "You got a date or somethin' after work?"

She paused, slow and deliberate, like she wanted me to know I'd interrupted something more important than me. Finally looked up at me through her lashes. Eyes sharp. A smirk pulling at her mouth.

"Why?" she said. "You jealous?"

There it was. The bite.

I clenched my jaw. "Just a question."

"And I answered it."

My hands curled into fists in my pockets. "Not really."

She cocked her head, leaned back in the chair like she was getting comfortable with pissing me off. "Maybe I do. Maybe I don't. What's it to you. You're just my boss right?"

My mouth opened. Nothing came out at first.

Because she was right.

Was I pissed because some other guy might see her like this? Touch her? Or was I pissed because I wanted her, even if I'd spent the last few days acting like I didn't?

She was watching me, enjoying the way I didn't answer right away. She knew exactly what she was doing.

"Wherever you're goin'," I muttered, finally, "hope he's got the sense to keep his hands to himself."

She smiled at that. Fake. "Doubt it."

Then she turned back to her computer, like that was the end of the conversation. Like she hadn't just lit a fire in my chest and walked away from it.

"Drop the attitude," I said, low.

She let out a short, humorless laugh. "You don't get to ask me that."

"I'm askin' anyway."

Another pause. I watched the tension move through her shoulders, the way her jaw tightened like she was trying to keep it together.

Then, softer, she said, "You fucked me over, Joel."

My chest pulled tight.

"I know," I said.

She glanced at me again, and this time there wasn't fire in her eyes. Just something duller.

"Well," she said, sitting up a little straighter, "doesn't matter much now, does it?"

Silence stretched out between us again, heavy and uncomfortable.

Then she exhaled. "But, fine. I'll drop it." She looked at me again, softer now. "I don't want to spend the next couple days pretending like we don't know each other. That's worse."

I nodded, a little too quickly. "Yeah. I appreciate that."

She gave a little shrug like it wasn't a big deal, but it was. I knew it was.

"I'll be good," she added, tapping her keyboard again. "Friendly. If you can handle that."

"Reckon I can," I said, but my voice was rough. I sat down at my desk, finally ready to start the day.

I sat down and leaned back in my chair. The awkwardness had lifted, even if just slightly. Felt like I could breathe again.

She was still typing, a rhythm I'd come to recognize over the past couple weeks. The silence between us wasn't uncomfortable anymore, and I was just starting to get into the mindset to work when I saw her stand up.

I glanced up, confused. "You heading out?"

She hovered for a second, arms crossed over her chest like she was bracing for something. "No. Just..." Her lips pressed together. She looked anywhere but at me. "Can I... can I have a hug?"

That pulled me back. "A hug?"

Her shoulders dropped. "Yeah. I've had a rough couple of days, and I think you owe me one."

I blinked, caught between being thrown off and feeling something in my chest crack a little. "Thought I was just your boss."

She gave me a look, unimpressed. "Shut up."

I stood slowly, meeting her in the space between our desks. There was hesitation in her eyes, the kind that made my hands feel like they didn't belong anywhere until she stepped closer. She didn't say anything else, just slipped her arms around my waist, face pressing lightly into my chest.

I froze for half a second then let my arms fold around her. Careful.

She felt warm and familiar. My throat tightened.

Her fingers curled lightly into the back of my shirt. "This doesn't mean anything," she mumbled, voice low against me. "Didn't say it did."

Fuck, it did.

I felt her take a breath, slow and shaky, and suddenly I wasn't thinking about work, or Sarah, or the million reasons I should've stepped away from this.

She didn't step away but instead she looked up at me. We looked at each other for a second and we both started moving in. Letting everything we just said go to shit. I was just thinking about her and I wasn't sure who would be the first to move.

The door opened.

Olivia stepped back so fast it felt like she vanished. I turned, pulse already hammering in my ears and there she was.

Sarah.

Holding her keys, dressed casual, a little confused, blinking between the two of us like her brain was still catching up.

"Hey," she said slowly. "Am I... interrupting something?"

Olivia straightened, gave this awkward, too-sweet smile. "Hi. Wow. Sarah, it's nice to see you again."

Sarah's brows shot up. "Wait. Olivia?"

Olivia nodded, her voice a little more careful now. "Yeah. I didn't know you'd be here."

Sarah turned to me next, eyes narrowing. Not angry, just surprised, like she was trying to fit pieces together that didn't make sense. "You said you didn't know her."

Shit.

I rubbed a hand across my jaw, avoiding both their eyes. "Didn't realize who she was. Not at first."

Olivia looked at me, a crease forming in her brow, but she didn't say anything.

Sarah gave a dry laugh, shaking her head. "You saw her Instagram. You said you didn't recognize her, and now she's in your office?"

"I wasn't lying," I said, too firm. "She started interning here for school."

"Right." She knew I was lying.

Olivia cleared her throat, stepping in, voice soft. "I should've said something. It's just been a long time, and I didn't want to make it weird."

Sarah let out a breath. "This is... a little weird."

"Yeah," Olivia said, nodding. "It is."

Sarah's gaze slid between us again, still reading the room, slower this time. "I just came by to grab my shoes out of your truck, left them there on Saturday "

"They're in the back," I said, already moving. "I'll go with you."

"No, it's fine. I can—"

"I said I'll go with you."

She paused, watching me for a second. "Okay. Um, nice to see you Olivia."

We walked out in silence.

The heat hit me the second we stepped outside, but it didn't do a damn thing to break the chill creeping up the back of my neck. Sarah kept pace beside me, quiet, but I could feel the weight of her stare like she was digging through every second she'd just witnessed.

My keys jingled too loud in my hand as I unlocked the truck and popped the back open. Her shoes were right there, shoved into the corner of the seat. I leaned in to grab them, kept my back to her longer than I needed to.

"You're gonna tell me what's going on?" she asked, voice calm. Too calm.

I handed her the shoes. "Ain't nothin' goin' on."

She blinked, gave me a flat look. "Right. So you're just hugging a girl you 'don't know,' who happens to be my childhood friend, who also happens to be working with you." I scoffed, and started to shut the door.

"I'm not stupid, Dad."

That stopped me.

She didn't say it cruel. Just honest. The way she always did when she knew she was right.

"It was already... complicated." I said, jaw tight.

Her eyes narrowed. "Complicated how?"

I looked away. "She's workin' with me. I'm supposed to be her mentor. Her dad trusted me with that. It ain't supposed to be anything else."

"But it is."

I didn't answer. I didn't have to.

She shook her head, one arm crossed over her stomach, clutching her shoes like she wasn't sure what to do with them. "Jesus, Dad."

"I didn't plan it, alright? It just happened."

"That doesn't make it better."

I exhaled through my nose. "I know."

There was silence for a few seconds, the kind that scraped at the inside of my skull. Then she said, more quietly, "Are you like dating her?"

"I stared down at the gravel. "Yea, well...not anymore."

Sarah didn't say anything for a long moment. Then finally "She's, like, twenty."

"Twenty-two."

She blinked. "Oh. Well, that makes it so much better."

I let out a bitter laugh. "I know how it looks."

"Do you?" she snapped, and for a second her voice cracked. "Because I really don't think you do. You lied to me. I showed you her picture and you looked me in the eye and said you didn't know her. But you did. And now she's working here, and you're hugging her in your office like—"

"I didn't mean for you to find out like this."

"No?" she said. "Then how were you gonna tell me? Or were you just hoping I'd never figure it out?"

"You know, I don't care if you're seeing someone," she said after a moment. Her voice wasn't angry.

I looked at her. That stopped me more than if she'd yelled.

"I mean it," she said. "It's not about her. It's just the way you lied. That's what feels weird. You could've told me. You didn't have to make it a secret. That makes it look worse than it probably is."

I leaned back against the truck, arms crossed, eyes on the ground. "I didn't know what the hell I was doin'. Still don't, if I'm honest."

She gave a small laugh. "Well... she's cute and smart. So I get it."

I glanced at her, brow raised. "Don't say that."

"What? She is. I remember even in high school all the guys were obsessed with her." She grinned a little. "You've got taste."

I shook my head. "Jesus."

"But seriously," she said, voice softening again. "You don't have to keep things from me. I'm not a kid. And if she makes you happy, even if it's weird and complicated, just be honest about it."

I looked at her, chest tight. "You're not mad?"

"No," she said. "I'm just surprised. And maybe a little weirded out."

"That makes two of us."

She gave me a little smile. "So. Are you gonna tell her you obviously still want her or just keep awkwardly hugging her in your office when you think no one's watching?"

I groaned. "Alright. Enough."

She laughed to herself and patted me on the shoulder walking to the car. "I'll see you at home."

I stood there a while after she left.

Just me, the heat, and the sound of the wind rattling through the parking lot.

Sarah wasn't mad. That should've been a relief. Hell, it was a relief. But it didn't make this any easier.

But maybe hiding it wasn't working anymore.

Maybe it was time to stop pretending this was just a job. That I could keep her close and hold everything else at arm's length.

I looked back toward the building, jaw tight.

She was in there and if I walked back in and pretended like that conversation hadn't happened, like Sarah hadn't seen what she saw, like Olivia and I were still playing it safe.

I'd lose her for good.

I knew that now.

So I took a breath, squared my shoulders, and headed back inside.

[adoreispunk]

Out of Reach (joel miller au)

wc: 2k

an: y’all I have been so sick and busy with work omg. trying to catch up so thanks for being patient with me. hope y’all don’t hate me after this chapter tho *MUAH💋*

masterlist (17)

seventeen

I start walking down the driveway, shutting the front door behind me and not looking back. I give Sarah a tight lip smile and she starts putting on her seatbelt. I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. I can't believe Sarah was this close to catching Olivia naked in the kitchen.

I didn't know what I would've done if she found her or if Olivia had stayed in bed and she caught us laying there together. It was all too close for comfort. So I just told her to leave.

Didn't look her in the eye when I said it. Couldn't. Just stood there in the room like a goddamn coward with my daughter outside in the driveway. She was a secret. That's all this ever was. A stupid, reckless secret I should've never touched.

I didn't even check to see if she made it home okay. Just walked out the door with Sarah, keys in hand, face set like stone. I climbed in the truck, turned the ignition, and left her there like she was something I was desperate to erase.

Sarah was going on about school, laughing at something on her phone, and I nodded along, but all I could hear was the blood rushing in my ears. I could still smell Olivia on me. Her shampoo, her perfume, her skin and I hated it. Hated that even after all this, some part of me still wanted her.

Jesus, what the hell is wrong with me? She was Theo's daughter. A fucking kid. My intern. And I'd had her naked in my bed like I had any right. Like this wasn't bound to blow up in my face from the start.

I knew better.

I always knew better.

I was just too damn selfish to stop. Too goddamn stubborn to walk away when I should have. Now I'd backed myself into a corner I couldn't claw my way out of without burning it all down.

So yeah, I told her to get an Uber. No hug. No kiss. No softness. Just a text once Sarah and I were gone.

Let her hate me. Let her think I'm a bastard. It's better than the alternative than her thinking this was real.

I let it go too far. That's on me. I took something sweet and turned it into a lie. I let her curl up next to me like she belonged there, let her believe there was something in it beyond lust, beyond need. That was my mistake.

But this ends now. No more mixed signals. No more slipping into bed with someone who still has her whole damn life ahead of her. I'll go in tomorrow, hand her the day's tasks, keep things professional, and shut this shit down for good. If she cries, if she gets mad, if she looks at me like I ripped her apart, I'll take it. Because at the end of the day, I knew what I was doing.

And I did it anyway.

I took Sarah to the mall that afternoon. She wanted to grab a few things before the semester ended—some new shoes, a hoodie, something for her roommate's birthday. I gave her my card without blinking. Felt like the least I could do, considering.

We walked through the food court with iced coffees in hand, just talking about nothing. Professors, finals, some guy she wasn't sure if she liked or hated. I listened. Threw in a sarcastic comment when it fit.

And she laughed, it hadn't changed since she was little.

Truth is, Sarah was probably the closest thing I had to a best friend. She didn't know all my shit, not even half, but she kept me grounded in ways nothing else ever could. I didn't need to explain things with her. Didn't need to pretend. She just got me. Even when she didn't know why.

We got home around six. I grilled steaks, made her favorite mashed potatoes even though I hate peeling those damn things. She sat at the counter like she always did, cleaning up after me and flipping through her phone.

"Hey," she said suddenly, screen held up toward me. "Isn't this that guy daughter? That one you used to work with?"

I froze mid-slice. Knife in one hand, plate in the other.

She turned the screen around and there it was.

Olivia. On some social media. Wearing that white dress she'd worn her first night at my place. The one that clung to her hips, thin strap slipping off one shoulder. She was laughing in the picture, off-guard.

My chest tightened.

"Yeah," I said, voice lower than I meant. "Think that's her."

Sarah kept staring at the screen. "She's really pretty. She goes to UT."

I cleared my throat, put the knife down too fast.

"Cute, I'm gonna follow her."

"No." It came out too fast, too sharp.

She blinked. "Why not?"

I turned back to the stove, reaching for the pan like the sizzling sound might drown me out. "Just... don't."

Sarah crossed her arms, still holding the phone. "Okay, why? You're weird."

I exhaled through my nose. "I left things on bad terms with her dad. Long time ago. Don't want you bringing up my name or dragging up old shit. It's complicated."

She was quiet for a second. "Oh, Alright."

Didn't push it. Just shrugged and went back to scrolling. Like she always did.

But I could feel her confusion from across the room. Knew she'd be thinking about that answer later. Hell, I would've.

After our standoff-ish dinner, we curled up on the couch to watch something. She picked some dumb movie she always went back to. She leaned against me halfway through, head on my shoulder, legs tucked under a throw blanket. Just like when she was little. Like nothing had changed.

But it had.

I shifted. Tried not to let my mind wander, but my stomach twisted as the memory slammed into me like a truck.

She didn't know it, but she was curled up in the same spot Olivia had been in. Less than twenty-four hours ago.

That same blanket. That same cushion.

I saw it play back like a sick reel in my head. Olivia laughing, her moaning, her looking at me like I was everything. And now here was my daughter, all innocence and trust, curled up like I hadn't brought her in the living room and acted like it never happened.

I couldn't take it.

"Alright, time for bed," I said, sitting forward, voice tighter than I meant it.

Sarah stirred, groggy and warm. "What? It's not even—what time is it?"

"Late enough," I said, already standing. "Come on."

She yawned, eyes half-closed, smiling up at me. "Will you carry me?"

I stared at her.

For a second, I almost said yes. But the weight in my chest was already too much to carry.

"You're grown," I said instead. "I spoiled you enough today."

"Ugh," she grumbled, flopping dramatically onto the cushions. "You're mean."

"Yeah, yeah," I muttered. "I'll tuck you in."

She dragged herself up the stairs and I followed, watching her like I used to when she was five and scared of the dark. She got into bed, curled on her side, and I fixed the blanket over her without saying a word.

She looked up at me just once, eyelids heavy.

"Night, Dad."

"Night, baby."

I turned off the light and closed the door behind me. And then it was just me back in my own room.

The silence is different now, not like before. The bed didn't feel right. The sheets were too smooth. The pillow didn't smell like her. My arms kept shifting like they were waiting for someone to be there.

She wasn't. Because I told her not to be.

Because I'd rather sit in this freezing, gut-deep guilt than admit what I really wanted ti feel her again. To hear her laugh, to watch her walk around in my damn shirt, barefoot, smug as hell.

I didn't sleep a damn minute.

By five, I was up. Took a shower I didn't need, stood there until the water ran cold. Got dressed and drove in early, hoping to clear my head before I saw her. Hoping she'd be late. Praying I'd get just five minutes to figure out what the hell I was gonna say.

But the minute I heard those keys at the door, I knew I was screwed.

I didn't look up. Just listened. Her bag hit the desk. A chair squeaked. That quiet, careful way she moved, like she didn't want to exist in my space any more than she had to.

And after a while, when the silence got too loud to take, I broke.

"I'm sorry for the way I left things yesterday."

She looked over at me, but nothing came out. Her mouth stayed closed, her eyes shiny.

I swallowed hard. Pushed through. "I should've said something. More than a text. I shouldn't have made you feel like you didn't—" I stopped. Ran a hand down my face. Tried again. "I just didn't know what to do."

Still nothing.

No forgiveness. No fury. Just silence.

"I was scared, Olivia. I didn't expect her to show up, and I—I messed up."

She closed her eyes. I saw the tear building before she tried to blink it back. She didn't want me to see it, but I did.

"I'm trying to explain, I'm trying to make this right—"

"I don't want to talk about it," she cut in, sharp. Sharper than I expected. "Can we just... work?"

Her shift hit me like a punch. I felt my spine go rigid, like something inside me turned to ice. She didn't want to talk? Fine. But I wasn't leaving it all unsaid.

"Fine," I bit out, "But I still need to say this."

She looked up, finally. I almost wished she hadn't.

I stood up from my chair, arms crossing over my chest. "This weekend was a mistake."

I watched the words hit her, saw the way her mouth tightened, how she blinked too fast. But I didn't stop.

"It was irresponsible. I should've never let it get that far. I can't—we can't keep doing whatever this is."

Her tear finally slipped down. She wiped it fast, like it burned. Like she didn't want me to see it, and I felt that burn crawl up my own throat.

"Don't worry," she said, cold now, mirroring me. "I'll finish the internship, and then I'll be out of your way."

I flinched but didn't show it. Just locked my jaw and took it.

"I knew this would happen," she added, voice low. "I knew you'd make me feel like nothing the second it got inconvenient. I just didn't think you'd prove me right this fast."

My face twitched just for a second but I didn't say a damn thing. I Grabbed my notebook, my keys, whatever excuse I needed to get out of there before I broke again.

"The tasks for the day are written down on the sheet on my desk," I muttered, heading for the door. "I expect them done by the time I get back."

And then I left.

Didn't look back. Couldn't. The door slammed harder than I needed to, but I didn't care. I didn't need to anymore. She wasn't anything more to me than a hookup.

[adoreispunk]

Out of Reach (joel miller au)

“I hated how sensitive I was. How hard I fell. I hated that it felt like something was ripped out of me just because he didn't say goodbye the way I wanted. Just because he didn't text. It was stupid. We never said we were anything. We didn't even define what this was.”

wc: 2k

an: happy mother’s day mamis ;)

masterlist (16)

sixteen

As soon as I shut the door behind me, I hit my bed and let the tears come. Quiet at first, the kind that feels like it lives deep in your chest. But it didn't take long before it turned messy. My breath stuttered. My shoulders shook. I buried my face into the the pillow. Trying to make sure my dad didn't hear me.

I hated how sensitive I was. How hard I fell. I hated that it felt like something was ripped out of me just because he didn't say goodbye the way I wanted. Just because he didn't text. It was stupid. We never said we were anything. We didn't even define what this was.

But God, I cared. I cared too much.

I spent most of the day pretending I didn't. I cleaned. I showered. I blasted music and sang along. I scrolled through Instagram like everything was fine. And every time my phone buzzed, my heart jumped. Every. Single. Time.

It was never him.

By the time it was almost 8 p.m., I'd stopped expecting anything. But that didn't stop me from checking my phone obsessively. I hated that about myself. That stupid flicker of hope that refused to die, no matter how many times it got stomped on.

Eventually, I caved. I needed to talk to someone who'd understand. Someone who wouldn't tell me I was being ridiculous for getting so attached. I tapped Marissa's name and hit FaceTime before I could talk myself out of it.

The camera shook as she adjusted it. Her face appeared with a mouthful of chips and a crooked smile. "Well, well, well. Look who finally returned from the bone zone."

I tried to laugh, but it sounded like someone exhaling a broken thought. "Hey."

She blinked at me. Her smile faltered. "Wait. What's going on?"

"I'm fine," I said automatically, but even I didn't believe it.

"Oh hell no," she said, sitting up straight, the chip bag tossed to the side. "Don't you 'I'm fine' me. What happened?"

I stared at her for a second, then dropped my head back against the wall and sighed. "It was... good. Really good, actually. We talked, we laughed, we... you know. And it wasn't just sex, Mar. Like, he wanted me there. He took me out, showed me places he liked, made me feel like...like I mattered."

Marissa's face softened. "Okay. That doesn't sound bad."

I looked at her again, and the words started tumbling out before I could stop them. "But then this morning, his daughter showed up. Unannounced. I was in the kitchen—naked—and I had to hide behind the fridge like a rat. And he covered for me, yeah, but after? He told me to leave. Just like that. No kiss. No real goodbye. Just a 'You should head out when we do' and then later, a text that said 'It's clear. You can leave now.' That was it."

Marissa didn't say anything right away. She just stared at me, her mouth slightly open.

I sniffed and gave a weak laugh. "It's pathetic, right? I'm pathetic. Crying over a guy who's never gonna see me as anything more than some... distraction."

"Liv," she said quietly, her voice losing the usual sass. "You're not pathetic."

I blinked at her. "Yeah, I feel like I am."

She shook her head. "No. You're just not heartless. And that's not a bad thing. You let yourself feel things. Most people don't even know how to do that without pretending they're too cool to care."

I looked down, twisting a piece of the sweatshirt's sleeve around my fingers. "I tried not to care. I swear I did. I told myself from the beginning this was just temporary. A fun, hot thing. But now?" I shook my head. "I don't know what I was thinking."

"You were thinking he made you feel something real," she said, without missing a beat. "And that maybe he felt it too."

I looked back up at the screen, my throat tightening. "Yeah."

Marissa leaned in a little, eyes serious now. "And maybe he does, Liv. Maybe he just didn't know how to handle it. Or maybe he's scared. Or maybe it was just the weekend for him but that doesn't make you weak for hoping it was more. That makes you human."

Tears welled up again, and I blinked fast, trying to keep them in.

"Besides," she added, trying to lighten the mood, "If fucks you over I'll drive over and beat his ass for you."

I snorted through a tear, shaking my head. "Oh my God, please don't."

"Too late. Already getting in the car."

I laughed again, softer this time, and wiped at my cheeks. "Thanks."

"Anytime," she said, smiling now.

She gave me a mock salute. "Hang in there, soldier. And hey—maybe don't write him off just yet."

I nodded, even though I didn't want to admit how badly I was still hoping. "Yeah. We'll see."

I stayed up for a while after hanging up with Marissa, lying on my side with the blanket pulled halfway over my face, eyes on the ceiling fan spinning slow. Sleep felt impossible. Every time I got close, my brain would jolt me awake with another "what if."

I didn't know if I should act normal. Be casual or distant. Or if I should be straight-up and say what I really wanted to say. That he hurt me. But the truth was, I didn't even know what I wanted from him anymore.

Eventually, exhaustion won. Somewhere between one scroll too many on my phone and the tears built up in my pillow. The weight of disappointment sunk deeper in my chest, I passed out.

The next morning came too fast.

I stared at my closet for ten minutes, then grabbed a pair of soft black slacks and a comfy blouse. Normally, I would've tried, maybe thrown on something to get his attention, done my hair just right. But not today. I didn't see the point in trying to impress someone who made me feel invisible.

The drive in was quiet. No music. Just the steady drum of tires on pavement and the anxiety in my stomach that got heavier the closer I got.

I pulled in, seeing his truck already in the lot. My heart dropped with the realization that I couldn't just go home and ignore him forever.

I sat there for a second, engine running, fingers gripping the steering wheel so tight my knuckles ached. I couldn't tell if I wanted to turn around or march inside and demand answers. I parked and got out. Slammed the door harder than I meant to.

The walk to the office felt longer than usual, like the sidewalk stretched with every step. My chest was tight. And when I reached the door and pushed it open, finding a minute to breathe before pretending I was fine.

But as I stepped inside our office, Joel was already at his desk.

The room felt smaller than usual. He didn't look up, just kept his eyes on whatever he was pretending to focus on. I lingered for half a second, unsure if I should say something. But the words caught somewhere behind my teeth.

So I said nothing.

I walked to my side, dropped my bag gently by the chair, and started unpacking my things like I hadn't cried myself to sleep the night before. Like I didn't feel like I was sitting next to a stranger now. The silence filled every corner of the room, heavy and sharp. I didn't think it would last, but part of me hoped it would.

But after a while, he finally broke the quiet.

"I'm sorry for the way I left things yesterday."

I looked over at him, but I didn't say anything. I couldn't. My throat was already closing up, and I could feel the heat behind my eyes.

"I should've said something. I shouldn't have made you feel like you didn't—" he stopped, tried again. "I just didn't know what to do."

Still, I didn't answer.

I closed my eyes. A tear was building fast, and I didn't want him to see it. I blinked hard, trying to hold it back. My chest felt tight, like there wasn't enough air in the room anymore.

He kept going. "I'm trying to explain, I'm trying to make this right—"

"I don't want to talk about it," I cut in, sharper than I meant to. "Can we just... work?"

He paused. I could feel the energy shift from guilt to defense.

"Fine," he said, voice colder now. "But I still need to say this."

I looked up then, just as he stood up from behind his desk. The height difference between us now making this intimidating.

"This weekend was a mistake."

The words landed like a slap.

He kept going, and his voice had that tight, clipped edge like he was trying hard to just let it out. "It was irresponsible. I should've never let it get that far. I can't—we can't keep doing whatever this is."

I blinked once and the tear slipped down anyway. I wiped it away quickly, jaw tightening so hard it hurt.

I turned toward him, matching his cold tone. "You're right. I'll finish the internship, and then I'll be out of your way."

He looked at me like he wanted to say something else, but I didn't let him.

"I should've known you'd make me feel like nothing the second it got inconvenient. I just didn't think you'd prove me right this fast."

His face twitched, just for a second, but he didn't say anything back. He grabbed his papers and keys like he couldn't get out of there quick enough.

"The tasks for the day are written down on the sheet on my desk," he said, already heading for the door. "I expect them done by the time I get back."

Then he left.

Just like that.

The door shut behind him harder than necessary, and the second it did, I let out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding.

I sat there, staring at the closed door like it might swing back open. Like maybe he'd realize what a complete asshole he'd just been and come back to take it all back. But no. That would've required some kind of humility that Joel clearly didn't have.

Instead, I felt something shift in me. A snap. No more crying. No more hoping. No more waiting for some text or look or apology that might make this easier.

Fuck that.

I didn't owe him a thing.

This internship? It was for school. That's all it ever should've been. I let it become more because I was stupid enough to believe he saw me as more than some girl he wanted a fantasy with. But I was done being stupid.

I stood up and walked over to his desk, grabbing the sheet of paper he couldn't even bother to hand to me. My hand clenched around it tighter than it needed to, and I had to take a breath before I crumpled it completely.

I walked back to my desk, dropped into my chair, shoved my headphones in, and opened my laptop. Music loud enough to drown out the world. Loud enough to shut out his voice still echoing in my head. "This weekend was a mistake."

I scanned the tasks on the paper like they were nothing more than a checklist. That's all this was now. A job. A requirement. Something to get me through the next few days so I could finish this internship and never have to see his face again.

I was done.

[adoreispunk]

Out of Reach (joel miller au)

“My mind raced. Joel was still upstairs, probably racing around to hide things too, and I had no idea if he'd come in time to cover for me. What if she came into the kitchen? What if she saw my shoes at the door? My stomach twisted, the weight of our secret crashing down on me.”

wc: 2.7k

an: oop..

masterlist (15)

fifteen

Today was our last day together. The thought hit me like a brick. I didn't know what to do with it, with the ache it brought. We hadn't talked about what this was, what it could be. Was it just a fling? A reckless escape from reality? I didn't even know if I wanted a relationship with him. Not because I didn't care, but because it felt too complicated. He was older, tied to responsibilities I couldn't fully understand, and I was... what? A college kid, figuring out my life, caught up in this man who made me feel things I'd never felt before. The confusion swirled in my head, muddled by the tenderness of his touch, and I felt stuck, unsure how to process it.

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to push the thoughts away. I didn't want to ruin today with overthinking. I just wanted to enjoy him, to soak up every second of this before it was gone. Taking a deep breath, I focused on the warmth of his body, the steady rhythm of his breathing, and tried to fall back asleep. But my mind wouldn't settle, the ache in my chest keeping me awake, my thoughts too loud to ignore.

Carefully, I shifted, easing out from under Joel's arm. He stirred slightly, his grip tightening for a moment before relaxing, his face soft in sleep. "Gonna get some water." I whispered, more to myself than to him, my voice barely audible. I slipped out of bed, my legs shaky from last night, and grabbed the throw blanket that had fallen to the floor, wrapping it around my naked body. The soft fabric brushed my skin as I tiptoed out of the room, closing the door quietly behind me.

The house was cool and quiet as I padded down the stairs, the blanket trailing slightly behind me. In the kitchen, I grabbed a glass from the cabinet and filled it with water from the fridge, the cold liquid grounding me as I took slow sips. My head was still a little foggy, but the water helped. I leaned against the counter, staring out the window at the soft morning light, trying to steady my racing thoughts.

My eyes wandered to the counter, landing on the snacks we'd left out last night chips, a half-eaten bag of M&M's, and our cans. The memories of our incident last night coming back to me. I let out a breathy laugh, shaking my head. But then—

Click.

The front door rattled.

My heart dropped.

I froze, glass still in my hand, eyes locking on the knob as it turned slowly.

No. No, no—

The door opened.

"Dad?" a voice called, familiar and far too close.

Sarah.

My blood went cold and my heart beat radiated through me. I was standing in Joel's kitchen, naked except for a throw blanket, my things upstairs, and his daughter was here.

Fuck, this is so bad.

My eyes darted around, searching for somewhere, anywhere to hide. The pantry was too far, the living room too open. The only option was the narrow space between the fridge and the counter, a cramped corner partially hidden by the kitchen island.

I scrambled over, clutching the blanket tighter, and squeezed into the gap. My back pressed against the cool metal of the fridge. The glass of water was still in my hand, and I set it down carefully on the floor, praying it wouldn't tip. My heart was pounding so loud I was sure Sarah would hear it. I held my breath, trying to stay as still as possible. The blanket slipped slightly, and I tugged it up, my hands shaking as I listened to her footsteps moving closer.

"Dad? You awake?" Sarah called again, her voice louder now, coming from the living room. I heard the rustle of a bag, the soft thud of her dropping something on the couch.

My mind raced. Joel was still upstairs, probably racing around to hide things too, and I had no idea if he'd come in time to cover for me. What if she came into the kitchen? What if she saw my shoes at the door? My stomach twisted, the weight of our secret crashing down on me.

I pressed myself deeper into the corner, the cold floor biting into my bare feet, and prayed he'd get her out of the house soon. The confusion from earlier, the sadness about our last day, was still there, but now it was drowned out by the immediate need to not get caught.

Then Joel's voice broke through, rough with sleep but steady, calling from upstairs. "I'll be right down, baby!" he shouted, and I exhaled shakily, a sliver of relief cutting through the panic. He was awake. He'd handle this. He had to. The creak of the stairs followed, quick and uneven, like he was taking them two at a time, and I pictured him throwing on clothes in a rush, trying to erase any trace of me.

I stayed frozen, my back pressed against the fridge, the blanket slipping slightly as I adjusted my grip. The glass of water sat on the floor beside me, untouched, a small anchor in the chaos. I listened as Joel's footsteps hit the living room, his voice warm and a little breathless as he spoke. "Hey kiddo," he said, followed by the soft sound of him pulling her into a hug. "God, it's good to see you."

I could hear the smile in Sarah's voice as she hugged him back. "Hey, Dad. Didn't mean to scare you." Her tone was teasing, but there was a warmth to it, the kind that made it clear how much she loved him. It made my chest ache, a reminder of the life Joel had outside of me.

"What're you doin' home?" Joel asked, his voice steady but laced with curiosity. I imagined him looking around, his eyes scanning the room for anything out of place, just like I was doing in my head.

Sarah laughed softly, her sneakers squeaking as she shifted. "I came to surprise you yesterday afternoon to stay for break, but you weren't here. Figured you were stuck at work or something, so I stayed over at Jess's place with some friends."

Joel chuckled, and I could hear the effort to keep it natural, to keep her from suspecting anything. "Shoulda called, kid. I was out late with some of the guys from the site. Didn't know you were plannin' a visit." His voice was warm, convincing, but I knew he was on high alert, probably clocking the same things I was.

"Yeah, well, surprises are more fun," Sarah said, and I heard her moving, her voice getting closer to the kitchen. My heart leapt into my throat, and I pressed myself deeper into the corner, the blanket slipping again. "Whoa, Dad, what's all this?" she said, her tone shifting to confusion laced with amusement. "Uh, a Smirnoff? Since when do you drink those?"

My stomach plummeted, a cold wave of dread washing over me. Of course she'd notice my drink. I bit my lip, waiting for Joel's response, hoping he could talk his way out of this.

Joel didn't hesitate, his voice smooth and casual, like it was no big deal. "Yeah, had some of the crew over last night. One of 'em brought that. Think it was Tommy's buddy, Mike. Guy's got a weird taste." He let out a low laugh, the kind that sounded so effortless I almost bought it, and I marveled at how quick he was.

Sarah snorted, and I could hear the grin in her voice. "Mike? Seriously? That's amazing. " She paused, and I heard the crinkle of a bag. "But candy? You're going soft, Dad."

I stayed still, my legs starting to cramp, the cold floor biting into my feet. My heart was still racing, but Joel's quick cover had bought us some time. I wasn't out of danger yet. If Sarah came into the kitchen, if she saw my shoes by the door or noticed anything else.

I listened as Sarah rummaged through the living room, her voice muffled as she talked about her friends, her classes, her plans for the break. Joel kept her engaged, his responses calm and easy, and I could tell he was trying to keep her distracted, to give me a chance to stay hidden. Today was our last day, and I'd wanted to savor it, but now I was hiding in his kitchen, naked.

The confusion from waking up, the sadness about leaving, it all swirled together with the fear of getting caught. I felt overwhelmed, unsure how to process any of it. I just wanted Sarah to leave, to give me a chance to slip back upstairs, to figure out how to face Joel and this day without everything falling apart.

Joel's voice floated back into the kitchen like a lifeline. "Hey, what d'you say we go grab some breakfast?" he said, easy and warm, but I could hear the underlying urgency. He was trying to get her out.

"Yeah, I'm starving," Sarah replied, cheerful and unsuspecting.

Joel's voice followed her. "Wait in the car for me, alright? I'll change real quick and be right out."

"Uh huh," Sarah said, teasing. "Don't take forever." Joel chuckled, the sound hollow underneath. "Yeah, yeah."

Footsteps thudded across the floor, lighter this time. Sarah heading for the door. The door opened. Slammed shut.

Silence.

"Olivia?" Joel's voice, quieter now, just above a whisper.

I exhaled, slow and shaky, then stepped out from my hiding place. My knees buckled a little as I straightened, the blanket clinging to my body, barely hanging on. Joel stood in the doorway to the kitchen, wearing the same sweatpants from last night, his hair tousled, his face drawn and tense.

He looked at me, eyes scanning quickly, like he needed to see me to believe I was okay. "You alright?" he asked. "Did she see anything?"

I shook my head. "No," I whispered, my voice tight. "I don't think so."

His shoulders dropped a fraction, a brief flicker of relief passing over his face. I bent down to pick up the glass I'd left on the floor and held it to my chest like it might shield me from the weight in the room.

"I'm sorry," I said quickly, before I could stop myself. "I shouldn't have come down. I—I didn't think—"

"Don't," he cut in gently, his voice low. He took a few steps toward me, stopping just short of touching. "You didn't do anything wrong. You couldn't've known."

I nodded, but it didn't help. I still felt awful and humiliated. There was something about being caught like that, or nearly caught.

Joel sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. "Look... it's probably best if you head out when we do," he said, voice careful. "Sarah's home now."

My heart clenched. I knew he was right, but it still hurt.

"Yeah," I said softly, looking down at the floor. "I figured."

We stood there in silence, the space between us suddenly full of everything we weren't saying. I wanted to ask him what this meant, what happened now, if he regretted it. I wanted to tell him I didn't know how to feel or what to do. But the words stayed locked in my throat, stuck behind the knot forming there.

Joel broke the silence first, "I'll be quick. You can take your time. Get your stuff ready and head home."

"Okay," I whispered.

Joel glanced toward the window that faced the front yard and motioned for me to stay close behind him. We moved quickly, careful not to be seen. We crept up together.

At the top of the stairs, he gave me a tight nod and turned toward his bedroom. I watched him disappear into the bathroom, the door clicking shut behind him. I turned to gather my things, trying to be quick but not too rushed, as if hurrying would somehow make this feel worse. I pulled my shirt over my head and stepped into my jeans, heart still thudding in my chest.

I glanced around the room; his flannel shirt still draped over the chair, our clothes laid out together on the floor, the bed still messy from where we'd slept. I didn't want to leave it like this. Honestly, I didn't wanna leave at all.

Joel reemerged a few minutes later, fully dressed now in jeans and a worn T-shirt that clung to his chest. He looked like himself again. Joel, the contractor, the dad, the man who wasn't supposed to be tangled up with me. He moved with purpose now, pulling on his boots by the edge of the bed.

"I'll text you when it's clear," he said, not quite meeting my eyes.

I nodded. "Okay."

He didn't say anything else. No kiss goodbye. No soft touch or lingering glance. Just grabbed his keys and wallet and walked out of the room like he'd already separated himself from it, from me. A part of me waited for him to stop in the doorway, to come back, say anything but he didn't.

I heard his footsteps move down the hall, then the creak of the stairs. A pause. The front door opened. Then closed.

Gone.

I sat on the edge of the bed, my fingers gripping the blanket we'd shared. The silence settled around me like dust, heavy and suffocating. I laid back, pulling the sheets up over my chest, burying my face into his pillow and breathing him in. It smelled like him. Like comfort. I'd let myself believe it might've meant more than it did.

I felt stupid. For thinking this could've gone somewhere. For letting myself want more than just a weekend. For falling so fast and so hard for someone who couldn't hold space for me once his real life came back through the door. But the weight in my chest told me that something had shifted. Joel hadn't kissed me goodbye. And it felt like a sign.

And now I had to go to work with him tomorrow. Pretend nothing happened. Pretend I didn't already miss him.

My phone buzzed on the nightstand.

I sat up too fast, heart leaping in my chest. I scrambled for it, a breath caught in my throat as I unlocked the screen. One new message.

Joel: It's clear. You can leave now.

That was it. No sorry, no I'll call you later, no thank you for staying, or even I wish things were different. Just a sentence, flat and distant. Like I was someone he barely knew. Like I hadn't just spent the night wrapped up in him.

I stared at the message until the screen dimmed. Then I opened the Uber app, blinking back the sting behind my eyes as I booked a ride. Four minutes away.

I pressed the phone to my chest and took a slow breath, but it didn't help. I moved around the room quietly, grabbing my bags. I paused by the bed, my hand brushing over the place where he'd slept.

Downstairs, the house was still. The blanket from last night was crumpled on the couch. The bag of M&M's lay open, half-eaten, the cans from our drinks scattered carelessly on the coffee table. Our laughter still seemed to echo faintly in the space, like it hadn't fully caught up to the fact that the mood had changed.

I walked to the door, slipping on my boots. Dust from the trail gravel still on them. As I turned the knob, I took a deep breath. The morning light was bright, like a flash waking me up from a dream. I closed the door behind me and the Uber was already waiting at the curb.

I didn't look back.

[adoreispunk]

Out Of Reach (joel miller au)

wc: 3.5K

content warning: 18+ MDNI

an: couldn’t even pick a paragraph to highlight from this chapter, didn’t wanna spoil anything 🤭 anyways, again thank you guys for reading! i’m having so much fun! reading comments or reactions on here and wattpad have been my favorite so enjoy ;))

( masterlist )

fourteen

We were still a ways out from town, the windows rolled all the way down and the warm evening wind pushing my hair in every direction.The sunlight was golden and soft, spilling across the hills like something out of a dream, and the road in front of us stretched endlessly. Joel's truck rumbled beneath us and the stereo was turned up loud enough that I could feel the drums in my chest.

Joel kept one hand on the wheel, the other tapping along to the beat against his thigh, head nodding as Lynyrd Skynyrd blared through the speakers. I was practically shouting the lyrics to "Simple Man," eyes closed, hair wild.

He looked over at me during the chorus, eyebrows raised in mock disbelief. "You actually know this one?"

"I'm not that young." I said, giving him a playful shove. "And don't act like you're not impressed."

"I'm a little impressed," he admitted, flashing me a smirk before turning his eyes back to the road. "Might have to keep you around just for that."

I laughed, flipping him off gently with no heat.

We made it through two more songs. Me dancing in my seat, him doing that low chuckle every time I hit a note too sharp. He reached for the volume knob and turned the music down just enough for conversation.

"You want to stop somewhere?" he asked, voice easy. "Could hit that bar up the road. Get a drink and bite before we head home."

I leaned my head back against the seat and let out a groan. "Ugh, I'm too tired to sit through a whole meal. I just wanna be comfy."

There was a beat of quiet, the road humming beneath us, the sky getting deeper in color.

"But," I said, lifting myself a little, "We could stop at a gas station. Grab some tall boys, some junk food, make a night of it. You, me, the couch... whatever cheesy movie we can find."

Joel looked at me, mouth twitching at the corners. "Gas station dinner, huh?"

"Don't act like it's not a perfect Saturday night."

He nodded once, approving. "Alright. There's one about twenty minutes out. You drive a hard bargain."

"I know," I said, stretching in the seat.

Sure enough, we pulled into the quiet lot of a dimly lit gas station not long after. It wasn't sketchy, just in the middle of nowhere. The lights glowed soft and bugs gathered under the bulbs. The air had that peaceful, post-sunset feel.

Joel unbuckled. "I'll go in."

"No," I said quickly, resting my hand on his forearm. "Let me. I like picking snacks." I leaned in, "What do you want?"

He gave a little shrug. "Miller Lite. Surprise me with the rest."

"Something sweet?" I teased.

He rolled his eyes, and just as I pulled back, his hand caught my wrist, tugging me close for a kiss. It was slow and soft, like he knew exactly what it'd do to me. The heat of his mouth, the scratch of his scruff, the stupid smirk I could feel more than see.

"You're all the sweetness I need tonight," he murmured against my lips.

God. I melted.

"Smooth," I whispered, half-laughing.

He pulled his wallet out and slid me his card. "Go on."

I took it from his fingers and climbed out. The door shut behind me with a soft thunk. As I walked toward the entrance, I glanced over my shoulder. He was watching me, arm draped over the steering wheel, eyes low-lidded. I winked.

Right on cue, a guy stepped behind me. Early twenties, maybe a few years older than me, trucker hat on backward. He held the door open with a smirk.

"After you, ma'am."

I smiled politely. "Thanks."

But I felt his gaze linger. A little too long and a little too low. I stepped inside, pushing it off. Just a guy being a guy.

I headed for the cooler, footsteps echoing softly behind me, landing a second too close after mine. Not close enough to confront but just close enough to notice.

I crouched to grab two tall boys. Joel's Miller light and a girly smirnoff for me. I laugh to myself at our little difference again. I quickly snapped out of it when I turned around, there he was. Pretending to browse chips.

"You got a boyfriend?" he asked casually.

I didn't flinch. Just held up the drinks closer to me. "None of your business."

He grinned. "That so? Didn't think you'd have to get your own drinks if you did."

I turned away without answering, walking toward the candy aisle, hoping that would be enough to end it.

"Wouldn't be me," he added behind me. "If you were mine, I'd do anything you wanted me to."

I grabbed M&M's and Sour Patch Kids. Keeping my focus on the shelves.

"Sorry," I said, not looking back. "Not interested."

But then he laughed. Low and amused. "Think your dad's gonna get mad if he sees you in here talking to me like this?"

My stomach twisted. I froze.

I didn't give him the satisfaction of reacting out loud. Just grabbed a pack of jerky and some chips for Joel and I. I turned into the next aisle, my heart starting to thud a little faster.

I stood up with my hands full and he was there. Right behind me. Pressed too close, the heat of him on me.

I jerked back, bumping into the shelves, heart leaping. "What the hell is wrong with you?" I snapped, stepping away and dropping the things I had just grabbed.

He only laughed again, hands raised. "Hey. Chill, sweetheart—"

"Back up."

Joel's voice hit like a gunshot.

It came from the side, sharp and cold enough to freeze the air. I turned, relief flooding me so fast I nearly sagged.

Joel was standing there, jaw locked, eyes narrowed on the guy like he was already picturing how many teeth he'd knock out.

The guy blinked, eyes darting between us. "Didn't know she was with someone."

"You knew." Joel stepped in closer, his presence filling every inch of space between us. "You just didn't care."

"Man, it's not that serious. I was just talkin' to your daughter."

Joel tilted his head, walking closer to him now. "You crowd every girl like that when you're 'just talkin'?"

The guy took a step back, both hands up now. "Jesus. Relax."

"You touch her again and you'll be sorry you ever opened your mouth." Joel didn't raise his voice. He didn't have to. Joel grabs my waist, guiding me away.

"Oh shit, Daddy issues?," the guy called out, voice smug and sharp. "Hey, when you're done collecting social security, I'll show her what a real man feels like."

Joel froze.

He turned on a dime and cracked the guy in the face with a single punch. So fast I barely registered it before the man went down hard, back slamming into the floor with a grunt and a curse.

"Joel!" I gasped, heart hammering.

The guy groaned on the ground, cradling his jaw.

Joel didn't even look at him. Just stood there, chest heaving, hand clenched, the rage still radiating off him like heat.

He turned, walked straight to the door pulling me with him. He pulled a fifty from his wallet, and tossed it on the counter where the older woman clerk was frozen in wide-eyed shock behind the register.

"For the mess." he muttered.

Then we were out the door, into the truck, and he was behind the wheel before I could even catch my breath.

I exhaled hard, only now realizing how fast my heart was racing.

Joel turned to me then, eyes scanning me head to toe. His hand came to my back again, firm grounding. "You alright?"

"I—yeah. Just a little shaken."

He studied me a second longer, then nodded once, jaw still tight. A quiet, fierce thing settled between us.

He started the car now and we drove off, I looked back as I saw the guy walk out flipping off the car as we drove away. The music was off now, but it didn't matter. The tension was louder. 

Joel's knuckles were white on the steering wheel, the same hand he'd punched with. I noticed the way he kept flexing it. Curling and uncurling his fingers like the adrenaline hadn't quite let go yet.

"You okay?" I asked softly.

He let out a breath through his nose, kept his eyes on the road. "Yeah. Just... dumb move. Sorry if I scared you."

I blinked, surprised by the apology. "You didn't."

He glanced at me, just a flick of his eyes. I gave him a small grin. "I mean...you scared him. Not me."

Joel huffed. Almost a laugh, but it came out tight. "Still. Shouldn't've let it get that far."

"Joel," I said, a little firmer. "He literally deserved it."

He didn't answer, just kept driving, jaw grinding quietly.

I leaned against the door, watching the blur of trees go by. "Also... if we're being honest? That was kind of hot."

That got his attention.

He looked over at me fully now, brows raised.

I shrugged, trying not to smile too wide. "I mean. I've seen a lot of guys try to act like tough shit. That? That was the real deal."

He shook his head like he didn't know what to do with that—then looked down at his still-curled hand, muttering, "Might've broken something."

"Worth it," I said quietly.

Joel's fingers relaxed then, just a little.

Silence again. But softer now. "Thank you," I added. "For stepping in. For... protecting me."

He didn't say anything right away. His jaw moved like he was chewing over what to say, weighing it. Then, voice low and steady, he said, "Ain't nobody gonna touch you like that. Not while I'm around."

It wasn't just the words. It was the way he said them like a vow. I swallowed and looked away, my pulse drumming again for a completely different reason now.

I looked down at his hand again. "Yeah I agree, it's probably broken."

He flexed it once more. "If it is, he got the worst of it."

I laughed under my breath and shook my head. "Jesus."

He didn't say anything else. Didn't need to. The way his hand landed on my thigh at the next red light said it all.

The truck rumbled to a stop in Joel's driveway. I glanced at him as he cut the ignition, his jaw still tight from earlier.

"C'mon, let's get this stuff inside," Joel said, reaching to grab the pile of snacks and drinks. I nodded, hopping out of the truck, my boots hitting the gravel with a soft crunch. He rounded the bed of the truck, handing me the lighter chips and candy, keeping the heavier beers for himself.

We stepped into his house, the familiar warmth of it wrapping around me like a blanket. I kicked off my shoes by the door, already craving the comfort of being here, with him. Joel set the drinks on the living room coffee table. "You pick a movie," he said, nodding toward the TV. "Somethin' light. I ain't in the mood for anything heavy tonight."

"Damn, I wanted to watch Rocky." I grinned, grabbing the remote and flopping onto the couch. I scrolled through the streaming options, landing on a 2000s comedy. Something goofy with cheesy one-liners. Joel raised a brow but didn't argue, just headed to the bedroom to change.

I slipped into his room after him, grabbing one of my matching pajama sets I brought. Slutty but comfy. Joel came out in a pair of gray sweatpants and a faded black t-shirt, looking so effortlessly good it made my breath catch.

We settled on the couch, the movie starting with its upbeat synth soundtrack. Joel cracked open two tallboys, handing me one, the cold can sweating in my hand. "Cheers," I said, clinking my can against his, and he huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head.

"To dumbasses who don't know when to shut up." he said, a nod to the guy at the gas station, and I laughed, the tension from earlier melting away. We sipped our beers, the movie's slapstick humor pulling giggles out of me, and Joel's low chuckles joined in, rare and warm. I tucked my legs under me, leaning into his side, and his arm draped over the back of the couch, his fingers brushing my shoulder.

As the movie played, we kept drinking, my drink going down smooth. I was feeling it more than I expected, a pleasant buzz making my limbs loose, my head lighter. I shifted closer, my hand resting on his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart under his shirt. Joel's fingers started tracing lazy circles on my arm, and I nestled deeper into him. My body was humming with how good it felt to be this close. I caught him watching me, my eyes lowered now. I knew he'd noticed I was a little tipsy, a little bolder.

Without a word, he got up, heading to the kitchen. I heard the clink of a glass, the soft pour of liquid, and when he came back, he had a tumbler of whiskey in his hand. The amber catching the light. He didn't say anything about it, just sat back down, pulling me against him like nothing had changed. But I knew he was matching me, leveling the playing field, and the thought made my stomach flutter. He didn't need to say it; the quiet gesture was enough, and it made me want him even more.

The movie was winding down and I was barely paying attention anymore. My hand slid down his chest, fingers grazing the waistband of his sweatpants, and I felt him tense under my touch, his breath hitching. "Watch the movie." he murmured, his voice low, a warning and an invitation all at once.

I looked up at him, my lips curving into a sly smile. "What? I'm just getting comfy," I teased, my hand slipping lower, palming him through the fabric. He was already hard, and the feel of him made my core ache, the buzz in my veins urging me on. I climbed onto his lap, straddling him, I pressed myself against him, feeling the heat between us.

His hands gripped my hips, his eyes locked on mine. I leaned in, kissing him slow and deep, my tongue teasing his, tasting the whiskey on his breath. His hands slid under the back of my top, rough palms roaming my skin, and I rocked against him, the friction pulling a moan from my throat.

"Take me upstairs." I whispered against his lips, my voice shaky with need. His hands tightened on my hips, his eyes burning into mine, and then he stood, lifting me effortlessly, my legs wrapping around his waist as he carried me up the stairs. His strength, the way he held me, sent a fresh wave of heat through me. I kissed his neck and cupped his head with my hand, feeling his pulse jump under my lips.

He pushed open the bedroom door, the room dark except for the faint glow from the hallway. Instead of laying me on the bed, he set me down on my feet, then sat on the edge of the mattress, his eyes locked on me. "Take it off," he said, his voice low and rough, a challenge that made my breath catch.

I blinked, a flush creeping up my neck, but the alcohol made me bold. Confident in a way I might not have been otherwise. I stepped back, holding his gaze, and slowly peeled off the top, letting it drop to the floor. His eyes darkened, raking over my bare chest, and I hooked my thumbs into the waistband of my shorts, sliding them down my hips, stepping out of them with a deliberate sway. The cool air hit my skin, but his stare was hotter, burning through me.

"Good girl." he muttered, his voice thick, and before I could move, he grabbed me, pulling me between his legs, his hands gripping my hips. His mouth found mine, the kiss deep and hungry, all whiskey and heat. I melted into him, my fingers tangling in his hair. His hands roamed, rough palms sliding up my back, then down to cup my ass.

I tugged at his t-shirt, desperate for more of him, and he leaned back, letting me pull it off, revealing the broad planes of his chest. The muscles I'd memorized by now. My hands explored him, greedy, as I rocked against him, the friction through his sweatpants making me whimper.

"Fuck me." I moaned, my lips brushing his, and he flipped us, laying me back on the bed, his body hovering over mine. He kicked off his sweatpants, and I spread my legs, aching for him, but he took his time with me like always. He watched me as he kissed down my neck, his stubble scraping my skin, until he met my breasts, tongue circling my nipples.

"Don't wanna rush." he murmured, his voice a low rumble, but I could hear the strain, the want he was holding back. He settled between my thighs, his mouth trailing lower, kissing any skin he could get to. I was trembling, begging with soft pleas. When he finally pushed into me, slow and deep, I gasped, my nails digging into his shoulders, the stretch perfect.

He set a steady pace, each thrust deliberate, hitting that spot that made my toes curl. I wrapped my legs around him, pulling him closer, my moans filling the room as he moved, his eyes locked on mine. The alcohol, the heat, the way he looked at me, It was all hitting me just right.

"Fuck,want you closer." he groaned, his voice hoarse, his hands gripping my hips as he thrust harder, the bed creaking under us. I was lost in it, the pleasure building, my mind hazy with want, and the word slipped out before I could stop it. "Daddy, please."

His eyes flashed, a growl tearing from his throat, and he rolled me onto my side. His body curving behind mine, one arm sliding under me to hold me close. "Say it again," he rasped, his voice thick, his hand lifting my leg, hooking it over his hip to open me up. He thrust into me, deeper now, the angle making me cry out, my body trembling under him.

"Daddy, fuck, don't stop." I moaned, my voice breaking, and he groaned, his hand sliding to my throat, fingers curling gently but firmly, tilting my head back toward him. His lips hovered over mine, forcing my moans into his mouth as he fucked me harder, each thrust sending sparks through me. His mouth took every sound, every plea, as he drove into me.

"Sound so good for me." he smirked against my lips, his voice rough, teasing, his hips snapping against me. "Callin' me daddy while I fuck you like this?"

I gasped, my moans spilling into his mouth, my body arching into him, the pleasure overwhelming. His fingers tightened on my throat, his other hand gripping my hip, holding me exactly where he wanted me, and I felt the edge rushing closer.

"Yeah, it's all yours." he growled, his lips brushing mine, his thrusts never slowing, and that was all it took. My orgasm crashed through me, my body shaking as I screamed his name, my moans muffled against his mouth. He didn't stop, drawing out every shudder, every pulse, until I was a trembling mess in his arms. He followed right after, his groan low and guttural, his hips stuttering as he spilled inside me, his grip softening but never letting go.

We lay there, panting, his body still pressed against mine, his breath against my back. The room was quiet, just the sound of our slowing breaths, the alcohol making us heavier, more tired than usual. His arm stayed around me, his fingers resting lightly on my hip, and I let my eyes flutter closed, the warmth of him lulling me.

"I could just fall asleep," I murmured, my voice thick, barely above a whisper, my body sinking deeper into the mattress. I felt him shift slightly, his arm tightening for a moment, like he wasn't ready to let me go.

"Hold on, angel," he said, his voice low and rough, still carrying that post-sex warmth. He eased out of me, and I whimpered softly at the loss, my body already half-asleep. I heard him move, the creak of the floorboards as he stood, and the rustle of fabric as he grabbed a towel from the bathroom. My eyes were heavy, drifting shut, but I felt the bed dip when he returned, his touch gentle as he cleaned me up, the towel soft against my skin.

The last thing I felt was the bed shifting again, the rustle of the blanket as he slid back in beside me. His body was warm, solid, and he pulled me close, my back against his chest, his arm and blanket wrapping around me like a shield. I sighed, barely conscious, the alcohol and exhaustion blending with the safety of his embrace. His lips brushed my shoulder and I let myself sink fully into sleep.

[adoreispunk]

Out Of Reach ( joel miller au)

“I eased her onto her back, careful not to jostle her too much, and slid down the bed. My hands were gentle as I parted her thighs. The shirt had ridden up, barely covering her. My eyes flicking up to her face. She was still asleep, her lips parted, her breaths soft. I leaned in, pressing a kiss to the inside of her thigh”

wc: 4.4K

content warning: 18+ MDNI, F receiving, riding, smacking, otp while receiving🤭

thirteen

The morning light slipped through the blinds, casting thin, golden stripes across the room. I blinked awake, my body heavy with a kind of comfort I hadn't felt in a while. The bed felt different. Olivia was curled against my chest, her head nestled under my chin. Her quiet breaths were steady, a soft rhythm that could've kept me in bed all day. I lay still, almost confused by how damn peaceful it was, her warmth seeping into me, calming every edge I usually woke up with.

I looked down at her, her hair fanned across her shoulders, a few strands catching the light. She was so close, her body molding to mine. My arm was draped around her, my hand resting on the curve of her hip, and I couldn't stop myself from tracing the line of her with my eyes. Her body was a goddamn work of art. Soft curves that dipped and swelled in all the right places, her thighs pressed against mine, The way her hips flared, the smooth stretch of her skin under my shirt, teasing glimpses of her ass.

It wasn't just her body though, she was a fucking vision. There was something else, something that had me staring at her like an idiot while she slept. The way she pushed my limits, the way she didn't back down, her laugh, her help with the business. I don't know what we are at this point but I'd be damned if I let her think she was just a body to me. I felt it last night, talking about Tommy and Sarah, letting her see pieces of me. It scared the shit out of me, but it felt natural. The thought hit me hard, a quiet ache in my chest, and I didn't know what to do with it except hold her a little tighter.

I had plans for today, something to show her she wasn't just another fuck. I wanted to take her somewhere that'd make her smile, make her feel appreciated. Somewhere she'd see I was trying, that I saw her for someone who is saving my ass and my business. I'd been planning it, keeping it quiet, hoping it'd be enough to show her.

My eyes drifted back to her, tracing the way her body, so soft in sleep. Her leg rested over mine, her ass round and perfect, begging to be grabbed. The way her legs tangled with mine made me want to wake her up just to feel her move against me again. I shifted slightly, careful not to be abrupt.

I leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head, her hair tickling my lips. "Hey." I murmured, my voice rough with sleep, low enough not to startle her. She didn't wake, just let out a soft groan, her body shifting closer, her face burrowing deeper into my chest. The sound, small and needy, made my morning hard even more intense. I smirked, an idea sparking. If she wasn't waking up to this, I knew another way to get her attention.

I eased her onto her back, careful not to jostle her too much, and slid down the bed. My hands were gentle as I parted her thighs. The shirt had ridden up, barely covering her. My eyes flicking up to her face. She was still asleep, her lips parted, her breaths soft. I leaned in, pressing a kiss to the inside of her thigh, then another, higher, until my mouth hovered over her core. She finally shifted and opened her eyes. My tongue flicked out, teasing her softly and she stirred, a faint moan slipping from her lips.

"Joel." she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep, her hips shifting slightly as I licked again, slower, deeper, savoring the taste of her. Her hands twitched, reaching for me, fingers brushing my hair, and I grinned against her, knowing she was awake now.

"Morning angel." I kept going, my tongue circling her clit, my hands holding her thighs steady as she started to tremble, her breaths turning into soft gasps.

But then her phone buzzed on the side of the bed ,cutting through the quiet. I glanced up, my mouth hovering as I reached for the phone, seeing her dad's name flash on the screen.

"Answer it," I murmured against her skin, my voice low, a wicked edge to it as I handed her the phone. Her eyes fluttered open, hazy with pleasure but wide with panic, and she shook her head, a soft whimper escaping as I sucked gently, not letting up.

"What? Joel, I can't—" she started, her voice breaking. I look up to her, my hands holding her steady.

"Answer. He's worried. " My tone was firm and she bit her lip. Her cheeks flushed and she cleared her throat as she swiped to accept the call, her voice shaky as she brought the phone to her ear.

"Hey, Dad." she said, her words strained, and I didn't stop, my mouth working her slowly, She gripped my hair tighter, fighting to keep herself in tact.

"Olivia, you didn't check in last night," her dad's voice came through loud enough for me to hear. "You okay?"

I smirked against her, my lips closing around her clit, sucking just hard enough to make her breath hitch. She pressed her lips together, stifling a moan, her free hand clutching the sheets. "Y-yeah, I'm fine," she managed, her voice higher than usual. "Sorry, crashed early."

Her dad huffed, unconvinced. "Joel behave last night?"

I slip two fingers into her, she squirmed, her eyes meeting mine as she fought to answer. I keep eye contact and nod at her. Reminding her to answer her dad. "Yeah, he was good. Really— Good." she stammered, catching herself, her cheeks burning as she shot me a desperate look. I grinned, not slowing down, loving the way she was unraveling, trying so hard to keep it together.

"Just check in next time, alright? Don't need to be worryin' about you."

"Im sorry, I will," she gasped, her voice breaking as I kept my pace, her hips bucking against my mouth. "Gotta go, talk later." She hung up quickly, tossing the phone aside with a moan, her hands flying to grip anything.

"You're a fucking asshole," she panted, but the way her body arched into me said she didn't mean it.

I part my mouth from her, keeping my fingers working. "That turn you on? Talkin' to your dad while I'm eatin' you out." I said, leaning in to nip at her thigh.

She let out a breathy laugh, her fingers tightening as I pushed her closer to the edge. Hesitant to answer. "God—Yeah."

Her words hit me like a goddamn freight train, my cock throbbing painfully at her confession. "On your stomach." I rasped, my voice rough, as I pulled back, my hands already guiding her.

She didn't hesitate, rolling over, her body pliant under my touch. I grabbed her hips, pulling her ass up, the sight of her like this making me throb. My shirt bunched so high showing all on her waist making my head spin. Her ass was perfect, round and soft, begging for my hands. I gave it a light smack, just enough to make her gasp, her moan muffled against the pillow.

I pushed into her, the tight heat of her making me groan, my hands leveraging on her ass. "Shit." she whimpered, her body pushing back against me, urging me deeper in this new position. I didn't hold back, thrusting hard, the angle letting me hit that spot that made her cry out, her hands clutching the sheets.

"Like that, babygirl?" I growled, my pace quickening, each thrust rougher, driven by the way she'd begged, the way her words had lit me up. Her ass bounced with every movement, her moans filling the room, and I leaned forward, my chest against her back, one hand sliding to her clit, rubbing fast circles. "Yes—fuck, Joel, don't stop, you're so deep" she moaned, her voice breaking, her body trembling under me.

The bed creaked, the headboard tapping the wall. All I could focus on was her, the way she took me. I grabbed her hair and pulled her off the pillow, leaning in to whisper in her ear. She screams at the change to angle hitting the perfect spot. "You like sneaking around with me? Don't you wanna tell everyone how good I fuck you?"

"Mhm—You're gonna get me in so much trouble," she moaned back. Her voice, a mix of pleasure and defiance. The thought of her screaming for me while the world stayed clueless pushed me over.

I let go of her hair, my hands snapping to her waist, fingers digging into her soft skin as I fucked her harder, each thrust deeper, rougher, claiming. Her ass bounced against me and her screams filled the room, her body trembling beneath me. "Joel! Fuck—" she cried, her voice shattering as I hit that spot again and again. The way she shook, her thighs quivering, told me she was close, and I wanted her to break apart for me.

"C'mon, babygirl, let go," I growled, my voice thick with need, my hips slamming into her. She screamed, her orgasm crashing through her, her body convulsing as she clenched around me, her cries echoing off the walls. The feel of her, tight and pulsing.

I pulled out, my breath ragged, and gripped her hips, holding her in place. "Stay like that." I rasped, stroking myself fast, my eyes locked on her ass, soft and perfect, still raised for me. With a low groan, I came, hot and thick, spilling across her ass, watching it glisten against her skin.

She giggled and collapsed onto the bed, panting, her body limp and trembling.  I leaned over, kissing her back, soft and slow.

I stood, grabbing a towel from the chair to clean her up, my touch gentle as I wiped her down, lingering just a moment on the curve of her ass, still flushed from my hands. "You gotta get up, angel," I said, tossing the towel aside. "If you stay in this bed any longer, I'm gonna wanna go again."

Her eyes widened, a playful spark lighting them, but she groaned, stretching lazily, "You're the one who started it." she muttered. She slowly sat up, wincing slightly, her body still feeling the aftershocks.

"Not even a hint?" she pouted, standing now, her legs a little shaky as she moved toward the bathroom, the shirt barely covering her.

"Nope." I followed her, leaning against the bathroom door frame as she turned on the shower, the steam curling around us. Her laughter filled the space as she teased me about her skincare routine again.

We showered quickly, her body brushing against mine under the spray, tempting me to pull her close again, but I held back. Back in the bedroom, I slipped into fresh clothes. She sat down on the sink in her towel to do her makeup and hair. I headed downstairs to make myself a coffee.

I sat on the couch with my coffee, the morning still quiet except for the soft hum of the house and the occasional bird chirping outside. The mug was warm in my hands, the bitter taste grounding me as I tried to shake off the haze of what we'd done upstairs. Olivia was still getting ready, and I was content to wait.

The creak of the stairs pulled me out of my head, and I glanced up as Olivia stepped down, a cream two-piece set catching the light filtering through the living room window. Fuck, she looked good. The top hugged her curves, the soft fabric clinging to her waist, showing just enough skin to make my pulse kick up. The long skirt flowed over her legs, accentuating the sway of her hips with every step. My grip tightened on the mug. I leaned back, forcing my expression to stay neutral, though my eyes betrayed me, lingering a second too long on the way the outfit moved with her.

I stood, setting the coffee down on the table, and cleared my throat. "Finally ready?" I said, keeping my voice steady, though the warmth in it was hard to hide. She smiled, a soft flush creeping up her cheeks, and I felt that ache in my chest again, the one that kept sneaking up on me.

"Yup." she said, her voice light, but her eyes held mine, searching, like she was trying to read what I wasn't saying. I nodded, stepping closer, and reached for my keys on the counter.

"Grab your camera bag." I added, casual, but I caught the way her brows shot up, surprise flashing across her face.

"My camera?" she asked, tilting her head, her lips curving into a curious smile. "How'd you know I have my camera?"

I smirked, shrugging one shoulder as I headed toward the door, glancing back at her. "I pay attention."

Her eyes widened, a mix of shock and excitement. She hurried back upstairs, her footsteps light on the stairs. I leaned against the door, waiting. She came back down, Both of her bags slung over her shoulder, her smile brighter now, and I opened the door, gesturing for her to head out. "After you. "

The car door clicked shut behind her as she tossed her bag into the back and slid into the passenger seat. I watched her out of the corner of my eye while I started the engine. Legs crossed, lips slightly parted, her hand adjusting her top like she didn't know I was looking. I did my best to focus on the road, placing my hand behind the headrest, pulling us out of the driveway. 

The ride took us through the back roads, winding past stretches of open fields and tall trees. Morning light filtered through the branches, casting a slow warmth across the dash. She rolled the window down, and before I could say a word, her phone was connected and some bubbly indie pop song started blasting through the speakers.

She started singing along, her voice bright and unapologetic, belting out the lyrics like she was on stage. I glanced at her, one hand on the wheel, catching the light as she danced in her seat. It was hard to keep my eyes on the road. I kept my face neutral, not giving her the satisfaction of knowing how much I was eating this up.

I raised an eyebrow, glancing at her with a smirk. "You like this shit? Sounds like something Sarah would've played to annoy me."

Olivia grinned, not missing a beat, her voice still weaving through the chorus. "It's catchy! Sing a line. I dare you."

I snorted, shaking my head. "Not a chance, You're embarrassing yourself enough for both of us."

She laughed, loud and bright, and turned up the volume, singing even louder. "I'm gonna get it stuck in your head."

"Sure." I muttered, but inside, I was hooked on her energy, the way she didn't give a damn what I thought, just kept being her.

She switched to another song, this one slower but still too sweet. She kept singing, her voice softer now, her fingers tapping the window. I stole glances at her, watching the way her eyes shifted as she would watch things pass by.

We drove for about forty minutes, the town giving way to open fields and rolling hills, the kind of quiet that felt like a reset. She was still at it, humming and singing.

I pulled into a small diner off the highway, a weathered joint with a neon sign that flickered like it was on its last legs. "Hungry?" I asked, cutting the engine and glancing at her.

"Starving." she said, her eyes lighting up as she grabbed her bag and hopped out, her skirt swaying with her steps. I followed, my boots crunching on the gravel. We stepped inside, the bell above the door jingling. The place was all checkered tablecloths and the smell of fried eggs, a few locals scattered at the counter. We grabbed a booth, and I slid her a menu, watching her scan it.

The server brought us two mugs of coffee without asking. Olivia ordered a stack of blueberry pancakes with extra whipped cream and a chocolate milk, her voice bubbly. I went for black coffee and a bacon-egg sandwich, no fuss. When the food came, her plate was a sugary disaster. Pancakes drowning in whipped cream topped with a cherry. She burst out laughing, pointing at my plate.

"Did you order the most boring thing on purpose?"

"It's food." I said, grabbing my roll of silverware. "What's with you and all that sugar? Gonna make us stop at a dentist eating all that."

She grinned, unapologetic. "You got insurance?" She grabs the cherry off her pancake stack. Arms rested on the table, leaned in just enough, eyes locked on mine like she had me pinned there. Then she wrapped her tongue around the cherry, slow and deliberate, lips parting just enough to pull it in. My grip on the coffee mug tightened, jaw ticking as I stared back. 

Olivia giggled under her breath, clearly pleased with herself, then reached across the table to gently tap my wrist. "Wait."

I raised a brow, adjusting the barely obvious boner she had just given me under the table. I watched as she reached into her bag. She pulled out a vintage-looking film camera, all black metal and scuffed edges. She brought it up to her face, one eye closing as she focused on the plates between us.

"Camera eats first," she said with a smirk, the shutter clicking softly as she snapped the photo.

"You take a picture of all your meals?" I asked, my voice low.

She lowered the camera, her fingers still resting lightly on the body. "Not all." Eyes flicking up to mine. "Just the ones I want to remember."

She forked a piece of pancake, bit into it, and chewed slowly. I watched her for a second longer, then let out a quiet breath, shaking my head as I finally took a bite of mine.

We wrapped up breakfast with easy conversation. Olivia swiping a bite of my eggs. Our moods were light. I paid the bill and we walked back to the car.

I started the truck again, and Olivia slumped into the passenger seat, stretching out as she rested her head on my shoulder. "I'm full...and tired." she murmured.

"We're almost there," I said, then turned and brushed a quick kiss to her temple. She flushed and settled back into her seat.

I guided us off the main road about 10 minutes out from the diner onto the narrow path that led to the trail Tommy, Sarah, and I had sworn to keep secret. The trees arched overhead, sunlight flickering through the canopy. The world felt a little quieter here.

Parking at the trailhead, I cut the engine and turned to her. "Ready?"

She hopped out and stretched, eyes scanning with curiosity. "You gonna murder me out here?" she teased, sliging her bag over her shoulder.

I laughed, unbuckling my seatbelt. "No promises," I replied. "Come on. Thought you'd like it."

I make my way around to the passenger door, opening the door and helping her out. Her darker cowboy boots make dust clouds on the gravel as she jumps out. She followed me onto the winding path, her camera swinging at her side.

Olivia's fingers brushed against mine as we walked, and after a minute, she slipped her hand fully into mine like it was the most natural thing in the world. The trail was quiet, just the hum of birdsong and the soft crunch of our boots against the dirt.

She let out a small, content sigh. "God... this is so relaxing." she said, glancing up at the trees swaying above us. "It's so quiet. Just us and the birds."

I nodded, letting the silence settle between us a moment longer. I could feel her eyes on me, curious.

"How'd you find this place?" she asked softly.

I kicked at a stray rock on the path. "Me, Tommy, and Sarah found it years back. Sarah loved to wander, and Tommy was always tryna one-up me by findin' the best camping spot. One day we just kept walking until we ended up here."

She slowed a little, eyes scanning the woods like she was seeing it through younger eyes. "You came here with Sarah a lot?"

"Yeah," I said, my voice low. "We used to bring snacks, books. She'd take off her shoes and run around like she owned the place. We swore we'd never tell anyone about it. Called it our 'sacred spot' like it was some big ancient secret." I gave a small smile. "Just felt right bringin' you here. You deserve to get out of the noise too."

She squeezed my hand, her thumb brushing over my knuckles. "Thank you for sharing it with me. Your guys' secret is safe with me."

I didn't say anything right away. Just kept walking with her beside me, the memory of Sarah walking this same trail flickering in the back of my mind.

Olivia had fallen into a quiet rhythm as we walked. stopping every so often to snap a photo. The birds overhead, the twist of the trail through the trees, a patch of wildflowers that pulled her to the side, crouched with her camera up to her face. Every time she brought that  thing to her eye, I caught the same soft focus in her expression like she was seeing the world in a way the rest of us missed.

We were getting close now. Just a little further, and we'd hit the spot.

She was a few steps ahead of me when the trail curved and the trees finally opened. Sunlight spilled through the clearing like it was being poured from above, casting golden reflections across the surface of the creek. The water ran smooth and steady, catching the movement of the trees in its reflection.

Olivia stopped dead in her tracks.

Her shoulders lifted with a slow breath, like she could feel the air change too. "Joel—" she whispered, voice small, like she didn't wanna break the silence.

I watched her take a few more careful steps forward, scanning everything like she was trying to memorize it all at once. Without looking at me, she reached for her camera. The way her fingers moved over it, I could already tell she saw something worth holding onto.

She lifted it to her face, adjusted the focus slowly, then stepped just to the side for a better angle. Her hair caught in the light, glowing around the edges, and she tilted her head with that same look she'd had all morning

Click.

She let out a little breath, like the shutter had pulled it right out of her. Then she looked back at me, eyes wide, glistening just a little.

"Jesus..." she said, voice quiet. "No wonder you kept it a secret."

My chest tightened, and I could only nod.

I didn't tell her yet that this was the exact spot Sarah used to sit and skip rocks with Tommy. I just watched her as she turned back toward the creek, lifted the camera again, and captured another.

I made my way toward the bench by the water. The same one Tommy and I dragged out here years ago, swearing we'd keep this place between us and Sarah. Wood worn down from weather, but still solid.

I sat down with a quiet grunt, relaxed, arms resting on the back of the bench as I looked out over the creek. It shimmered in the light, peaceful in a way the world rarely was anymore. And for a minute, I let myself sit in it. Let the memories come.

Sarah's laughter. Her bare feet kicking up dirt as she ran ahead. Tommy trying to teach her how to fish and her getting bored halfway through.

Now, Olivia's voice broke through the quiet.

"Oh this one looks like a postcard," she said, crouching by a cluster of yellow flowers, camera clicking softly.

She moved to a tree with the bark peeling just enough to look interesting and snapped another shot. I didn't say much, I just listened. Every photo, every little comment, every sound she made. It filled in the silence without ruining it.

I focused on the way the trees met the creek. The way it flowed steady over smooth rocks and driftwood caught at the edges.

The sound was faint, but sharp enough to cut through my thoughts.

I blinked, slow, dragging myself out of the memory I'd been drifting in. Turned my head just in time to catch her lowering that camera, a sly smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"You just take a picture of me?" I asked, one brow raised.

Olivia didn't even flinch. Just gave me wide, innocent eyes like I hadn't seen her do it. "What are you talking about?"

I scoffed, shaking my head as I leaned back against the bench. "You know exactly what I'm talkin' about."

She laughed softly, she's hides her camera behind her as she stepped toward me. "I actually have no idea."

"Uh huh." I narrowed my eyes at her, but I couldn't help the smirk creeping in. "That better not end up in some gallery titled 'Old Man in the Wild.'"

"How did you know!" she laughed, full-on now, covering her mouth as she came around to sit next to me on the bench.

She latched onto my neck, pulling herself closer to me and kissing me.

It was slow at first, like she had nowhere else to be, like this moment was all she wanted. Her lips were warm against my skin, along with the sun peeking through the trees. I let my eyes fall shut, hand finding the curve of her waist as she settled beside me on the bench, pressing herself into my side.

The birds kept chirping, the creek still whispered behind us, but all I could focus on was the way she felt. Her fingers curled into the collar of my shirt, until I turned to face her fully.

"Did you like it?" I murmured, voice low, a little rough.

She grinned against my cheek, her breath tickling as she whispered, "So much. Thank you."

I kissed her then, I couldn't help it. One hand cupped her jaw while the other held her close, anchoring her to me

When we finally pulled apart, her cheeks were flushed, eyes bright. She looked at me like I was the view she wanted the whole time.

[adoreispunk]

Out Of Reach (joel miller au)

an: thank you guys for reading <33 this is so fun and I love getting notifications from here. enjoy;)

wc: 2.4k

content warning: MDNI 18+, fucking on the couch *chefs kiss*

masterlist⭐️ 12

twelve

The empty takeout containers were scattered across the coffee table, the lingering scent filling Joel's living room. I sat curled up on the couch, swallowed by one of his shirts. The soft, worn fabric smelled like him and a hint of his cologne. Joel lounged beside me, his broad frame sinking into the cushions, an old gray t-shirt stretched across his chest. The TV hummed in the background, some cheesy rerun of a '90s sitcom playing low, the canned laughter a strange but comforting backdrop to the quiet intimacy of the moment.

I tucked my legs under me, stealing a glance at Joel as he leaned back, one arm slung over the couch, his fingers grazing my shoulder. He looked relaxed, more at ease than I'd ever seen him. Seeing him at work, stressed, hunched over his piles of papers or carrying around heavy materials. That edge and craziness softened by the warm glow of the lamp and the comfort of the meal we'd just shared.

My stomach was full, my body still buzzing from earlier. Sitting here with him in his home felt so domestic. Like we were just another couple sharing a lazy Friday night, the world outside fading away. But we're not a couple. I don't even know what this is.

Joel caught my stare, his lips twitching into that half-smirk I couldn't get enough of. "What's that look for?"

I blushed, grabbing my water glass to cover it. "Nothing," I mumbled, taking a sip. "Just—this is nice. Food was good."

He hummed, his eyes lingering like he knew there was more to it. "Yeah." He hesitated for a beat. "Better with you here." I glanced at the TV, not sure how to respond even though I felt the same way.

Joel shifted and let out a breath, his arm brushing mine as he leaned forward to grab his glass. "Tommy would be all over this show." he said, nodding toward the TV, his tone light but tinged with nostalgia. "Used to watch crap like this with him when we were younger. He'd quote every damn line, thinkin' he was hilarious."

I turned to him, surprised by the mention of his brother. "Tommy?" I said, setting my glass down, curiosity sparking. "You guys liked this stuff?"

Joel's expression softened and he leaned back, hands clasping together over his knees. "Yeah, back when we were kids. Tommy was always the loud one, actin' out scenes, makin' me laugh. I just watched to keep him outta trouble." He paused, a small smile tugging at his lips, his eyes far off. "He's still like that. Always got some big idea."

His voice was warm, but there was a weight to it, like he was sharing something he didn't often put into words. I stayed quiet, soaking in every syllable.

“He’s always been the dreamer," he went on, his thumb rubbing absently over his knuckles. "It was just us and Sarah. I was the one holdin' it together. Bills, work, makin' sure Sarah had what she needed. He'd come up with these wild plans, like movin' us to California, startin' a band, whatever popped into his head." He chuckled, low and soft. "Drove me crazy, but it kept us going. Kept Sarah smiling."

My heart raced as my thoughts spiraled to Tommy and Sarah, a knot twisting in my gut at the thought of them discovering me and Joel. As Sarah's old friend, would she be as livid as my dad would be? The thought of her hurt, her trust in her dad, made my chest ache. And Tommy, I couldn't shake the image of him confronting Joel, his laughter turning to disapproval. I was caught in a whirlwind of emotions, the addictive nature of Joel's touch mixing with the terror of breaking the bonds he held with his family. The way he talked about her, about Tommy, carried so much love.

He paused, his jaw tightening, and I could feel the weight of those thoughts. "He's my brother, you know? All I got, him and Sarah. They're why I keep pushin', even when I'm tired."

I wanted to tell him how much it meant, hearing him talk like this, but the words caught in my throat. I was afraid they'd come out too much, so I just sat there. Letting his story settle over me like a warm blanket. He was so much more than I'd imagined.

"You're a really good dad and brother." I said softly, the only thing I could manage without spilling everything I felt.

Joel huffed. "Tryin' my best." He glanced at me, his eyes searching, and for a moment, I thought he might keep going. But he just shook his head, like he was brushing off the weight of it all.

The sitcom laugh track faded as a commercial started, and Joel's hand slid to my thigh, his touch warm. The air between us shifted. Joel's thumb traced slow circles on my thigh, the warmth of his touch sending a shiver through me. His eyes locked on mine, darker now, but there was a hesitation in them, a softness that hadn't been there earlier.

He leaned in slowly, his breath warm against my lips. His hand slid up to cup my face, his thumb brushing my cheek, and then he kissed me. It wasn't the desperate kiss from earlier. This was soft and deliberate. My breath caught, and I melted into him. My hands finding his chest, feeling the steady thud of his heart under the worn fabric of his t-shirt.

I kissed him back, deeper, my fingers curling into his shirt, pulling him closer, needing to feel him. His hands slid to my waist, guiding me onto his lap. The oversized shirt bunching around my hips. The kiss stayed slow, exploratory, his lips moving against mine with a care that made my heart race. His fingers digging in just enough to hint at the hunger still simmering beneath the surface. I rocked against him, feeling him harden beneath me, and a soft moan escaped me, breaking the quiet.

"So pretty." he growled, but his hands were gentle as they slid under the shirt, tracing the curve of my spine. His touch sending shivers across my skin. He tugged the shirt up, slow and deliberate, and I lifted my arms, letting him pull it over my head. The cool air hit my skin, and I shivered, but his hands were there, warm and steady. His lips finding my neck, kissing a slow path down to my collarbone.

I arched into him, my hands roaming his chest, tugging at his t-shirt until he leaned back, letting me pull it off. His skin was warm and I traced the lines of his shoulders, my fingers greedy for every inch of him. He groaned softly as I rocked against him again, the friction sparking heat between us, and his hands slid to my core.

"Need you again" I whispered, my voice shaky, and he kissed me again, deeper this time. His tongue teasing mine as he lifted his hips, undoing his sweatpants just enough to free himself. I sank onto him, slow, the stretch making me gasp, my nails digging into his shoulders. "Joel," I moaned, the fullness making me feel sore.

"Fuck, you gonna feel this good everytime?" he rasped, his hands guiding my hips, setting a slow, steady rhythm. His eyes stayed on mine, intense, like he was memorizing every moment, every sound I made. The couch creaked beneath us, the sitcom's chatter a faint buzz in the background, but all I could focus on was him and the way he filled me.

I moved with him, my hips rolling, savoring the slow build, the way each thrust sent sparks through me. His hands roamed, one cupping my breast, his thumb brushing my nipple, drawing a whimper from my lips. "You like that, huh?" he teased, his voice low, flirty, and I nodded, biting my lip.

"Talk to me." he said. His voice breathy but playful, and his grin was wicked. His grip tightening as he thrust up harder, making me gasp.

"Fuck—I like— everything you do Joel." I let out breathy and desperate.

The pace shifted, his movements growing rougher, more demanding. His hands gripped my hips, pulling me down to meet each thrust, the angle hitting that spot inside me that made my vision blur. I cried out, my nails raking down his chest, leaving faint red lines, and he moaned back.

"Fuck, look at you," he said, his voice thick with lust, his eyes raking over me. "You take me so good." His words sent a thrill through me, and I moved faster, chasing the heat coiling tight in my core. My hands move to grip the base of the couch behind him.

His hand slid between us, finding my clit, rubbing tight circles that made me tremble, the pleasure overwhelming. "Joel, I'm—" I gasped, my words breaking as the edge rushed closer, my body tensing.

"C'mon, let me feel you again." he urged, his voice rough, flirty, his hips snapping up to meet mine. His words pushed me over, my orgasm crashing through me. My body shuddering as I clenched around him, crying out his name. He groaned, his thrusts growing erratic. With a few more, he followed, his release hot and intense, his hands holding me close as he spilled inside me.

We stayed there, panting, my forehead pressed to his, our breaths mingling. His hands softened, sliding up my back, and he kissed me, slow and gentle, a contrast to the roughness of moments ago.

He grabbed a throw blanket off the arm of the couch, wrapping it around me , and helped me off his lap, his touch tender. "Let's clean up," he said, his voice low, warm.

In the bathroom, the steam curled around us as we stepped under the warm spray, his fingers grazing my waist innocently, as he pulled me close for a quick kiss. I laughed, swatting his chest when his hands wandered lower, he stepped back to let me rinse off.

After, I stood at the sink doing my extensive skincare routine getting ready for bed. Joel leaned against the doorframe, shaking his hair dry with the towel, smirking.

"The hell is all of that?" he asked, his voice low, teasing, as he nodded at the array of bottles and jars lined up on the counter.

"Skincare?" I shot back, glancing at him with a sarcastic raise of my brow.

He chuckled, shaking his head. "What happened to face soap and lotion?"

"Right here." I lifted two bottles, shaking them lightly with a grin. "I'll let you try these. Feels nice."

Joel's smirk faded, replaced by a skeptical squint as he crossed his arms over his bare chest. "Nah, I'm good. Don't need all that fancy shit."

"Oh, come on," I said, my voice softening, a playful pout forming. "Please? Just a little." I tilted my head, giving him my best puppy-dog eyes, knowing they'd wear him down.

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, his resolve visibly cracking. "Fine."

I grinned, blushing that he cracked for me. "Sit—no, wait, stand here." I hopped up onto the counter, settling on the edge, my legs dangling as I gestured for him to come closer. Joel stepped between my legs, his hands hovering near my thighs. He eyed the bottles warily as I picked up my cleanser.

"Relax, it's not gonna burn your skin off." I teased, squirting a small amount of cleanser onto my fingers and warming it between my palms. I leaned in, my hands finding his face, smoothing the product over his cheeks and jaw with slow, careful strokes. His skin was warm, rough with faint stubble. He tensed at first, his eyes squinting to mine like he wasn't sure what to make of it.

"Okay, now rinse that off", I nudged his shoulder to the direction of the sink. He leaned down to the sink and I watched the way his back muscles moved. He reached for the towel, grinning to himself "Can't believe I'm doing this shit."

He walked back in between my legs. I switched to a serum, dabbing it onto his forehead, cheeks, and chin, then began a light massage, my fingers gliding in gentle circles over his temples and along his jawline.

His shoulders relaxed, and he let out a low hum, his eyes half-closing. "What do you need all this shit for, anyway?" he asked, his voice soft

I smiled, my fingers still moving, pressing lightly into the tension around his eyes. "To stay pretty for you," I said, my tone flirty and slow.

Joel's hands found my waist, his touch light, fingers curling against the oversized shirt I slipped back on. "You're always pretty," he said, his eyes still closed. I smiled to myself, blushing from the compliment I can't believe I'm receiving from him.

I finished rubbing in the serum and grabbed my moisturizer. Rubbing it in with soft motions. His hands still on me. My fingers lingering for a moment before I pull back.

"All done." I said softly, then leaned in, pressing a quick, gentle peck to his lips. His hands tightened on my waist, holding me there for a beat longer, and I felt the heat of his smile against my mouth.

"See! It was relaxing. You liked it. I'll add the rest of the products next time." I said teasing.

He snorted, shaking his head, but the grin on his face gave him away. "Yeah, right. C'mon let's go to bed. Got plans for tomorrow," he said, his fingers stroking my hair.

I perked up, my stomach dropped with nerves. "What? Where?"

He smirked, shaking his head. "You'll see. Ain't tellin' you, so don't try."

"Not even a hint?" I pouted, but my smile gave me away.

"Nope. You'll like it."

He led me to his room, his hand brushing the small of my back. We climbed back into his bed, the messy sheets cool against my skin. Joel pulled me close, his arm heavy around my waist. His warmth enveloped me, his breath steady against the back of my neck.

"Thank you for today." I said whispering, nudging my face deeper into the pillow.

"Sleep," he murmured, his voice thick with exhaustion, his lips brushing my shoulder. "Goodnight."

His breathing slowed, a soft rumble in his chest, and I knew he was asleep. I let my eyes drift shut, the thought of tomorrow's mystery plans lingering as I followed him into sleep. In his arms.

[adoreispunk]

Out Of Reach (joel miller au)

He breaks from me, his lips perfectly wet and red as he looks up at me. He slips two fingers in to not stop the sensation. "Always taste so good for me, would do this all day if you let me."

wc: 4.0K

content warning: 18+ MDNI.

an: holy shit i’ve been moving for the past couple weeks, finally settled so heres 4K words of pure sex to celebrate. enjoy;)

Eleven

I stared out the window for a while, watching the sky turn from soft peach to a deep blue, my fingers still clenched around the strap of my bag in my lap. The ghost of my dad's words still clung to me.

I peeked over at Joel, the curve of his jaw lit by the last light bleeding through the windshield. He looked completely unfazed. Like he hadn't just sat across from the one man who would absolutely murder him if he ever found out what we were doing.

"You good?" he asked without looking over, his voice low, like he already knew I wasn't.

"I think I aged five years back there," I muttered.

That made him huff a small sarcastic laugh. "Could've fooled me."

I turned to look at him. "You didn't say anything! You barely even flinched when he asked if we've been spending time together."

"'Cause we have," Joel said simply, shrugging like it was obvious. "And I told him that."

"You said we've been working."

He gave me a quick side glance, and the corner of his mouth ticked up. "You've been putting in some work for sure."

I shoved his arm playfully, trying not to laugh. "Fuck you."

I really got a chance to fully take him in, he looked too good tonight. He had on a short sleeve shirt that hugged his arms, his hair was perfectly messy, and his hand flexed on the wheel while the other rested loosely on my thigh exposed by my white eyelet dress I picked out for him. Drawing light circles. His jaw flexed every time he shifted lanes and the dim dashboard light carved shadows across the lines of his face.

All week we'd kept dancing around actually fucking. Teasing and tempting. But being in this truck alone, knowing I'd be sleeping at his house tonight mixed with the nerves from the interaction with my dad gave me a shot of confidence. I was ready to start pulling the tension tighter, just to see if he'd finally snap.

"I'm bored, how far are we?" I asked, in a lowered and innocent voice.

Joel glanced at me, brows knitting like he wasn't sure if I was serious or just trying to start something. "Five minutes."

I shifted in my seat, turning my body more toward him. "You know, I don't know how much more of this waiting game I can take."

He didn't respond right away, just clenched his jaw and exhaled through his nose. The air in the truck felt hotter suddenly.

I reached over, dragging my fingers slow across the inside of his forearm, moving down to just above his waistband

"Maybe, I could just get a head start." I said looking up at him with doe eyes.

His grip on the wheel tightened. I leaned in closer, placing some kisses to his neck and ear.

"Olivia." he warned, low and rough, glancing down at me. His dick getting harder just from the way I was talking and barely touching him.

"What? I'm just saying, waiting is hard..."

I finally move my hands to touch his dick, rubbing up and down his print. His jaw going slack from the contact.

"So fucking hard."

I finally start to unbuckle his pants and we barely make space so I can take him into my mouth. The way he fills it up perfectly makes me crazy

Joel's breath caught as I slid down, enough to take him all the way into my throat. He instantly clenched the steering wheel tighter, his jaw flexing.

"Jesus, babygirl keep doin' that. Keep your head down."

He gave me quick glances while trying to keep his eyes on the road . His eyes dark, brows furrowing, and jaw slack as he saw the playful confidence in my expressions.

"You couldn't wait five minutes for me? Need me that badly huh?" He exhaled sharply, his voice dropping lower.

I break free for a moment, still working my hands up and down. Just how i've learned he's liked.

"Get me home and fuck me Joel."

I earn a loud grunt from him like he's holding back from finishing just from my words. I don't put my mouth on him again, I want this same energy to stay until we turn into his house. I keep moving my hands up and down slowly, licking around his tip, cleaning up the beads of precum coming from him.

I don't even register him putting the car into park until I feel the jolt, like he didn't even wait for the car to stop to switch gears. I let out a little yelp and he grabs my neck for me to look up at him, his eyes dark and tempting.

"Get up and get the fuck inside."

My breath hitched.

The grip he had on my neck was firm, holding me still. Like he knew I'd try to say something back, like he was daring me to. I just stared at him, so turned on. I rubbed my thighs together just to release some pressure.

I nodded. Then I slipped out of the truck in silence, pulse hammering in my ears, every inch of me buzzing like I'd been lit up from the inside. Joel didn't say another word. I could feel him behind me. He walked me up to the door, his hand pressing low on my back, guiding me, like he owned every step I took. My fingers fumbled on the hem of my dress, the porch light casting long shadows across the wood.

The second the door cracked open, he was on me. He didn't wait. One strong hand gripped my waist, the other slammed the door shut behind us. Then I was against the wall, my back hitting it hard enough to knock the breath from me for a second.

He kissed me like he'd been starving for it. Everything I'd done this past week, every look, every touch, every soft little noise I'd made was catching up to him all at once. My legs spread without thinking, hands gripping his shoulders, his shirt, anything to hold onto.

He scooped me up not breaking the kiss and I wrap my legs around his waist holding onto him, moaning at the contact. I wrap my hands around his neck tangling my fingers into his hair just to feel closer.

Joel's grip on me tightened, his strength undeniable as he held me up with just one arm, the other swinging loosely at his side like he didn't need it. His breath was warm against my skin as he pulled back just enough to look at me, his eyes dark with intensity. He swallowed hard, his voice low and rough.

"You think I didn't wanna fuck you all week? You think I didn't feel how close we were getting, how badly I wanted to, right there in my office?"

He leaned in pressing more kisses to my cleavage. "I wanted you like this, you can scream as loud as you want. Not just some quick fuck on my desk."

The way he said it made my heart race, my whole body just completely ready. I could barely breathe, my hands gripping his shirt, grinding against him, trying to pull him closer. " I know, I know. I want you too. Please, Joel."

He stops my begging with a kiss, bringing his free hand to touch me over the black lace underwear he asked for. I moan against his mouth so relieved from his touch.

He smiles against my lips, "You wore them for me? Good girl." He

didn't even have to look at them, just the feel of them and he knew.

He's already ruining me.

He finally starts walking towards the stairs, still grabbing me with one hand like he wasn't even trying. Our kisses become more desperate and rough the closer we get to the top of the stairs.

The moment he pushed open the door, I took in the space, even as my body was still pressed tight to his. Joel's room felt like him. Dark, solid, and grounded. The walls were a charcoal blue, the wood floors creaking softly under his boots. A large bed sat against the far wall, made neatly with lighter sheets and a thick, heavy-looking comforter. The furniture was simple and wooden.

There were a few clothes draped over the chair in the corners. Nothing messy, just lived-in. A nightstand held a small lamp casting a warm, amber light. Framed photos lined the dresser: one of Sarah, young and smiling with the same beautiful hair I remember her having. And another of Joel with a man who looked just like him. Tommy, probably. The one he'd talked about the other day.

Everything in here felt intimate. It suddenly hit me how much of himself Joel was letting me see. not just physically, but this too. His personal space.

He didn't let me linger for long. Reality hit when my back hit the mattress and I felt Joel climb on top of me again, hearing the door slam in the back.

He slipped his hand up the side of my thigh pushing my dress up and sucked on the side of my neck. I let out a moan, letting him know how good he was making me feel in this moment.

His hands were so big, they practically swallowed my waist. Rough and sure like he knew exactly how to handle me. The weight of them made me feel safe, like nothing could touch me as long as he was holding on.

I gripped and dug my nails onto his arms for some sort contact, my fingers not even close to spanning the width of his biceps. He was solid beneath me, all muscle and heat, and the sheer size difference made my breath catch in my throat.

He finally started to back away from me. My body started to follow him from desperation "Joel—"

"Lay back babygirl, I wanna take care of you."

My cheeks go hot, I nod at him and do what he says. I bring my arms up and cross my hands over my face biting the side of my thumb. He moves the other side of my dress up, the skirt pooling over my waist now. I feel his fingers slide up against the lace, stopping his thumb at my clit and drawing small circles. I make a small moan in return.

"Fuck, 'so pretty in these. Wanna see all of you" He starts working his hands up to the waistband and slowly works them off. I look down at him, not wanting to miss any of this. As he takes them off, a string of my wetness follows.

"So wet for me already." He brings his hands around my legs, pulling me closer to him in a quick motion. Without thinking twice, I feel his lips on me. Taking all of me onto his mouth.

"Oh my god, fuck Joel—." He swirled his tongue around me deliberately and with so much lust. It's not his first time going down on me, but something about being completely alone, on his bed, feeling safe makes everything feel a hundred times more intense.

He breaks from me, his lips perfectly wet and red as he looks up at me. He slips two fingers in to not stop the sensation. "Always taste so good for me, would do this all day if you let me."

"Fuck—it's all yours, I wanna...cum for you please."

"So good beggin for me." He brings his fingers out of me and grabs the small of my back, pulling me up towards him. Stopping right when my chest hits his.

"Say it again" He says, forehead pressed to mine, lips barely touching.

"I wanna cum for you Joel." I reply, completely ready to be ruined already.

Joel pulls me back in, sliding up the rest of my dress and throwing it somewhere in the room. He takes off my matching black lace bra that he wanted me in and his hands follow to cup my cleavage. His hands rough compared to my soft skin.

Joel pulled his shirt over his head in one rough motion, and I realized it's my first time seeing him shirtless. His chest was wide, solid, lined with muscle that moved beneath his skin when he tossed the fabric aside. He wasn't sculpted like someone who lived in a gym. He was built like a man who carries hundreds of pounds of building material everyday. His stomach was strong, just a little soft at the edges. I couldn't look away, my hands already itching to map every inch of him.

Joel noticed. I could tell by the faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth but he didn't say a word. He let me look like he was used to being wanted but didn't need to hear about it. That's Joel.

He didn't let me linger long before his mouth was back on mine. My hands grab at his pants, unbuckling them again. He follows with his boxers, his dick hard and throbbing at this point. He kicks them off and I finally feel pure skin on mine. Caged in by his forearms holding him up.

"Fuck, your body is unreal." He says in his rough and lustful tone. I finally see him reach for his dick, and I whimper in anticipation.

Joel Miller is finally gonna fuck me.

He teased me first, sliding himself through my folds, slick and slow, drawing a moan from my lips. "Joel, please," I begged, my hips lifting, needing him.

He didn't make me wait any longer. With one slow, deliberate thrust, he pushed inside, filling me so completely. I gasped, my nails digging into his arms. The stretch was intense and perfect. He groaned in response to the fit, his forehead dropping to mine. "Fuck," he rasped, his voice wrecked. "So fuckin tight."

I couldn't speak, just clung to him, my legs wrapping around his waist as he started to move. Slow at first, deep, each thrust stealing my breath. I could feel the tension in him, the way his hands gripped my hips, like he was taking everything in.

"Harder," I pleaded, my voice breaking as I rocked against him. "Fuck me harder."

His eyes darkened, something primal flickering in them. Realizing he could let go. He hooked my leg over his shoulder, opening me wider, and slammed into me, the force making me cry out. The bed creaked and the headboard rattling. All I could feel was him, his weight, his heat, the way he hit that spot inside me with every thrust.

"Harder?" he growled, his voice filthy as he picked up the pace, relentless. "Not even letting me take my time with you. Want it that bad?”

"Fuck—yes," I gasped, my nails raking down his arm, leaving marks I knew he'd feel later. "Don't stop."

He didn't. His hand slid between us, finding my clit, rubbing tight circles that made my vision blur. The pleasure was overwhelming, coiling tight, and I was already so close. "Look at you," he said, his voice low. "All that talk and you're already gonna cum? Already know that spot."

He moves his hand and pushes himself against the spot that makes me moan in response. "Yeah? Feel good right there huh?"

"Yeah, fuck, right there."

His hand slid up my spine, fingers tangling in my hair, tugging just enough to make me arch. The slight sting sent a fresh wave of heat through me. The intensity was overwhelming. Joel's thrusts were relentless, each one deeper, harder, claiming me in a way that made my head spin. My moans mixed with his low, guttural groans, filling the quiet of his room.

"Not yet," he murmured, his voice rough but softer, like he was savoring every second of this.

Before I could process, he rolled us, his back hitting the mattress, and suddenly I was on top, straddling him. My breath caught at the shift, my hands bracing against his chest as I looked down at him. His hands gripped my thighs, steadying me, his thumbs brushing the sensitive skin where my hips met my legs.

"Ride me," Joel said, his voice low, commanding, like he needed this as much as I did. "Wanna watch you cum like this."

My pulse hammered, a new wave of heat flooding me at his words, at the way he looked at me. His chest was broad and the feel of it under my palms grounded me. I shifted, adjusting to the angle, and the way he filled me in this position, so deep, so perfect, made me gasp. I started to move, slow at first, rolling my hips, finding a rhythm that sent sparks through every nerve in my body.

"Joel," I whispered, my voice shaky as I leaned forward, my hair falling around us like a curtain. His hands tightened on my hips, guiding me, urging me faster, and the friction, the way he hit that spot inside me with every roll, was almost too much. His eyes never left mine, drinking in every move, every sound I made.

"So pretty right here," he growled, his voice thick with want. One hand slid up, cupping my breast, his thumb brushing my nipple, sending a jolt straight to my core that made my head tip back, a moan tearing from my throat. "That's it, babygirl. Just like that."

I moved faster. The pleasure was building again, coiling tight, and the way he watched me, the way he touched me, made me feel even better. I was unraveling him just as much as he was unraveling me.

His hips bucked up hard to meet my movements, each thrust pushing me closer to the edge, and I could feel him tensing beneath me, his breaths coming faster, rougher.

"Fuck" I gasped, my voice breaking as the pressure built, my hips grinding against him, chasing that release. "I'm so close—cum in me please. "

"Look at me," he said, his voice low, urgent, his hand sliding up to cup my face, pulling my gaze back to his. "Wanna see you."

I take his thumb into my mouth. Still staring right at him, keeping my pace and he kept his. He stared right back and touched every spot of me perfectly. It was too much. My orgasm hit like a storm, crashing through me, my body trembling as I clenched around him, crying out his name. My vision blurred, my hips stuttering, but Joel's hands kept me steady, guiding me through every wave, every shudder, until I was gasping, my body buzzing with aftershocks.

He wasn't far behind. His grip on my hips tightened, his fingers digging into my skin as he thrust up into me, hard, desperate. "Fuck," he groaned, his voice breaking, raw and wrecked. With one final thrust, he came, his release hot and overwhelming, filling me as his body tensed, a low, guttural moan spilling from his lips. The feel of him, the sound of him, sent a final shiver through me, my body collapsing against his chest, spent and trembling.

For a moment, we just lay there, both of us panting, his arms wrapping around me, holding me close. His lips brushed my temple, soft, almost tender, and it made my chest ache. I could feel his heartbeat under my cheek, steady but fast, and the weight of what we'd just done The warmth of his touch was a stark contrast to the raw intensity of moments ago.

I shifted slightly, my cheek still pressed to his chest, and felt the faint rumble of his breath as he exhaled. The room was quiet now, save for the soft creak of the house settling and the distant hum of the world outside. The amber glow from the lamp cast long shadows across the walls, making the space feel smaller, safer.

Joel's hand stilled on my back, and I felt him tilt his head to look down at me. "You still with me, babygirl?" His voice was low, rough from exertion, but softer now.

I nodded, my cheek brushing against his chest. "Yeah," I murmured, my voice hoarse, barely above a whisper. "I think so." His fingers resumed their slow path along my spine, and I melted into him.

I tilted my head to meet his gaze, and the way he looked at me, dark eyes soft but intense, searching made my breath catch. There was no wall there now, no guarded distance. Just Joel, raw and open, at least for this moment.

I reached up, tracing the line of his jaw with my fingertips, feeling the faint stubble under my touch. A small smile tugging at my lips.

His hand slid down to my hip, giving a gentle squeeze before he shifted beneath me. "C'mon, let's get you cleaned up."

I whined softly, not wanting to move, my body too comfortable, too sated. "Do we have to?"

"Yeah. Ain't leavin' you like this." His tone was firm but gentle, and before I could protest further, he eased me off his chest, his hands steady as he helped me sit up. The loss of his warmth made me shiver, and he pulled the covers over me. Like he knew exactly what I needed.

He stood, unbothered by his own nakedness, and I couldn't help but watch him. Broad shoulders, scarred skin, the way his muscles shifted as he moved. He grabbed an oversized shirt from the chair in the corner and pulled on a pair of boxers, then disappeared into the small bathroom off his room. I heard the faucet run, the soft clink of something being set down, and a moment later, he was back with a damp cloth in one hand and a glass of water in the other.

"Drink," he said, handing me the glass first. I took it, sipping slowly, the cool water soothing my parched throat. Joel sat on the edge of the bed, his eyes tracking my movements like he was making sure I followed through. Satisfied, he reached for me, his touch gentle as he nudged my legs apart. "Here, I got it."

My cheeks flushed, a mix of shyness and warmth at how attentive he was being. I nodded, letting him guide me to lie back against the pillows. The cloth was warm against my skin, and Joel's movements were careful, almost reverent, as he cleaned me up. His free hand rested on my thigh, grounding me, and the contrast of his rough calluses against my softness made my breath hitch.

"You don't have to do this, you know," I said softly, my voice barely audible. It felt intimate, vulnerable, in a way that was different from the heat of before. I was almost confused.

Joel's eyes flicked up to mine, and he shook his head, a small, stubborn frown creasing his brow. "I want to." His voice gruff. He finished cleaning me up, tossing the cloth into a hamper across the room. then grabbed the shirt he'd brought over and draped it over my shoulders.

I slipped my arms into the sleeves, the fabric soft and worn, smelling faintly of him. It was too big, the hem brushing my thighs, but it felt like a hug, like an extension of him. I knew I had my own pajamas but I liked these better.

He watched me for a moment, his expression unreadable, then stood and grabbed sweatpants from the dresser, pulling them on with a quick tug. "You hungry?" he asked, already moving toward the nightstand where his phone sat. I was a little too busy to think about food, but the mention made my stomach rumble. "Yeah, I could eat."

Joel's lips twitched, like he'd heard the growl. "Figured. I'm gettin' us some Chinese from this place down the street." He dialed the restaurant and spoke into the phone, his voice low and clipped as he placed the order lo mein, fried rice, and something with beef. It was such a normal thing, ordering takeout, but in this moment, in Joel's room, it felt like a luxury.

[adoreispunk]

Out Of Reach (joel miller au)

“ "She's a smart girl," My dad said, correcting him. He paused for a beat.

"You two spending a lot of time together?” ”

wc:1,100

an: sleepover time ;) enjoy babies. masterlist pinned on my profile now!

Ten

Joel had texted me ten minutes before six.

Joel: Pulling up soon. Hop in quick.

That was the plan. Simple. No awkward interactions. Joel and I had texted about it as I got back to the office. Don't be suspicious. We even joked about how I'd barely open the door before launching into the passenger seat. I'd told him to park a couple houses down so my dad wouldn't see.

My overnight bag was already packed and zipped by the door. Inside: the black set Joel had asked for and a couple more for him, a couple oversized t-shirts, toiletries, some basics ,and a cute cream two-piece skirt set I'd picked since he said to bring something nice. But mostly, I packed for staying in.

I always packed a separate handbag with my camera, charger, and flash drive. I always had it with me since I started. It's corny but I always thought I could find inspiration anywhere. Even just going to the grocery store

I'd been watching the window like a hawk since five, shoes already on.

The second I saw his truck round the corner, I grabbed my phone and tiptoed down the hallway. I held my breath passing the living room, praying my Dad had dozed off during whatever rerun was playing.

One step from the door, hand on the knob—

"Is that Joel?"

I turned around gasping way too suspiciously. Finding my dad standing behind me now, blanket pooled over his shoulder, brow furrowed and peering out the window like a watchdog.

"You scared me." I look back at him. He analyzes me, waiting for my response.

"Yeah. I asked him for a ride. Since you're not feeling well."

He blinked at me, then craned his neck to get a better look out the window.

"Invite him in for a minute. Been meaning to talk to him."

Shit.

I forced a tight smile and nodded, my heart racing as I cracked open the door and waved Joel toward the house.

Joel moved like he always did, steady and unbothered, shutting the door behind him and walking up the driveway with that same calm gait. I looked down at my feet as he got closer, chewing my bottom lip, praying he wasn't pissed that the plan to sneak out had fallen apart the second my dad decided to be nosy.

As soon as he got close to the door my dad greeted him "Hey Joel, Nice to see you." Joel reached out a hand to him.

"Don't get too close," Dad warned, half-joking. "I've got a fever that could knock out a horse."

Joel paused in front of me holding the door open and offered a half-smile. "Noted. I'll keep my distance."

Joel followed my dad, giving me a quick glance as he passed. Then his fingers brushed my waist, subtle and quick, like he was grounding me. That he was calm for the both of us.

Let's just get through this conversation. Don't make anything too obvious and go.

We all settled into the living room. Joel took the armchair across from the couch. My dad sunk into his usual spot with a tired groan, and I lowered myself onto the arm beside him, trying not to look like I was made of nerves.

The TV was still running, some detective show humming in the background, filling the silence just enough to make it more noticeable when it finally broke.

"So," Dad said, sniffing, "How's business been?"

Joel leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, calm and steady like always. "Busy. But it's looking up. Having Olivia around's been helping more than I expected so thank you again."

He glanced at me, just for a second but it was enough to make my cheeks warm. My dad picked up on it too. I could feel the way his head turned a little, like he was squinting through the words between us.

"She's been holed up in her room most nights," Dad said, not quite joking. "Every time I pass by, she's typing or pacing on that laptop. Doesn't even feel like she's clocked out. Thank you for that by the way. Very generous of you Joel."

I nudge him quickly. Embarrassed that my dad had just outed how much time I'd been secretly spending on Joel's business.

Joel nodded, looking over to me. "She's a good girl. Sorted through job applications, ran points on a couple of interviews already."

"She's a smart girl," My dad said, correcting him.

He paused for a beat.

"You two spending a lot of time together?”

I let out a short sound. Caught completely off guard by how that question felt.

Joel didn't flinch, but I could feel the way his posture locked up just a little.

"We've been working. Not sure what you mean."

Dad gave a small nod, but the silence that followed was too weird for me. I crossed one leg over the other, fingers tapping against my knee.

"So," I cut in, getting up and forcing a smile, "It's getting late and my friend is waiting for me so we should go if that's okay.".

Dad blinked at me, then Joel. "You're not driving far, are you?"

"Nah," Joel answered quickly. "Just dropping her off across town."

Dad nodded slowly, like he wasn't convinced but wasn't going to push it. "Well alright. Text me when you get there Liv. And Uh —Keep my baby safe, Joel."

Joel didn't say anything, just gave a small nod and clapped a hand to my dad's shoulder. Giving the faintest grin.

I grabbed my bag by the door, too eager to be out of the house. Joel stepped ahead to open the door, and the moment it clicked behind us, I sucked in a sharp breath.

"He knows." I whispered.

Joel slid a hand against the small of my back looking back, steering me gently down the steps. "He doesn't know anything."

"He knows something," I hissed. "Did you hear his fucking question?"

Joel looked down at me, smirking now. "Well, he should know you're damn good at your job. That's all that I was talking about."

I rolled my eyes, sliding into the truck. "You're lucky you can lie so well."

He leaned in as he shut the door behind me, voice low and smug. "I'm not lyin'."

I squinted my eyes back at him, "Liar."

Then he rounded the front of the truck. Getting settled in the drivers seat.

I tried to ignore the way my pulse was still racing like I hadn't just sat across from both the guy I wanted and the man who'd kill him if he ever found out.

[adoreispunk]

Out Of Reach (joel miller au)

by @adoreispunk

Olivia is a 22-year-old senior at UT Austin. Despite her passion for photography, her father insists she pursue a more traditional career. He suggests Olivia intern for Joel Miller, an old colleague who owns a successful contracting business. Even though Joel tries to ignore the growing attraction between them, the chemistry is clear. Creating a tension they both can't avoid as they reconnect both at work and outside of it.

tags: joelmillerau, age gap, dbf!joel, joelmillerfanfic, pedropascal, smut, joelmiller, thelastofus, 18+MDNI

🎞️ one

🎞️ two

🎞️ three

🎞️ four

🎞️ five

🎞️ six

🎞️ seven

🎞️ eight

🎞️ nine

🎞️ ten

🎞️ eleven

🎞️ twelve

🎞️ thirteen

🎞️ fourteen

🎞️ fifteen

🎞️ sixteen

🎞️ seventeen

🎞️ eighteen

🎞️ nineteen

🎞️ twenty

🎞️ twenty one

🎞️ twenty two

ongoing:)

wattpad link:))

[adoreispunk]

Out Of Reach (joel miller au)

“Pack light,” he said, voice dropping. “You won’t be wearin’ much.”

an: sleepover chapters next 😙

nine

The rest of the week was blurred by a mess of meetings, conference calls, and late nights on Joel’s desk.

We met with reps from the union, reviewed applications, and combed through the job listings I’d created. Tweaking and adjusting requirements, adding more detail based on what Joel said he was really looking for.

And every night or lunch break, we found time to be alone. Taking turns making each other finish.

It was all so good and i'm not complaining about it. We just still hadn’t gone all the way, and it was driving me insane.

I’d catch myself zoning out mid-email, thinking about him finally fucking me. But every time it got close to crossing that line, he’d pull back. Kiss my forehead. Whisper something about taking his time. I wanted to scream. He knew what he was doing, he wanted me to build that anticipation, maybe he liked that.

Friday hit like a brick. We were both quiet, heads down in our work. It was just after noon when I stood up to grab my purse for lunch and he looked up from where he was buttoning up his flannel.

“Hey,” Joel called out, voice a little rough.

I stopped, glancing back at him. “Yeah?”

He was looking down, scrambling to grab his belongings. “I’m heading’ out to one of the sites. Probably be gone the rest of the day.”

I nodded. “Okay. I’ll hold down the fort.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, eyes not quite meeting mine at first. “You got plans this weekend?”

That caught me off guard. I tilted my head, squinting at him. “Not really… why?”

He sighed, eyes dropping to the desk for a second before they came back up to meet mine. “Thinkin’ maybe you should stay over.”

My heart stopped. “At your place?”

He nodded. “Yeah. Just been a long week. Need a break from all this.”

I didn’t move, just stared at him. He wasn’t smiling. He looked serious. Maybe a little nervous—like I might say no.

“You want me to stay the whole weekend?” I asked, voice softer now.

His eyes didn’t waver. “Yeah, I do.”

I bit my lip, tried not to show the way my stomach flipped.

Fucking finally.

“I’ll go pack a bag during lunch.”

He gave me the smallest smile. One that said more than anything he could’ve said out loud. Then, before turning to leave, he crossed the room to me.

His hand touched my waist, slow and deliberate, and he leaned in to press a kiss to my lips. His nose brushed mine as he pulled back, voice low near my ear.

“Pack light,” he said, voice dropping. “You won’t be wearin’ much.”

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.

He stepped closer, one brow raised just a little. “Maybe throw in that little set you wore last weekend,” he murmured. “The black one, with the lace.”

“Joel—”

He leaned in and kissed me before I could finish, stealing my breath with how deliberate it was. All slow heat and pressure, his hand slipping to grab my ass like he already had plans for where he was going to be tonight.

When he pulled back, he stayed close, voice just above a whisper. “And somethin’ nice. Don’t forget. I’ll pick you up at home.”

Then he turned and headed out, leaving me flushed and stunned, fingers still resting where he’d touched me.

I barely made it out of the building before I started grinning like an idiot.

The second I got in my car, I let out a laugh that turned into a full-blown squeal, slapping the steering wheel like I was fifteen again and someone had just asked me to the movies. My chest felt too small for how fast my heart was racing, my skin still buzzing from Joel’s kiss and the way he said “Pack light”.

I hit Marissa’s name and threw the call on speaker.

“Pick up, pick up, please—”

She answered on the third ring, voice groggy. “Olivia? What the hell, aren’t you at—?”

“He just asked me to stay the weekend,” I blurted out, barely hearing myself over the pounding in my chest.

A beat of silence.

“WHAT?!” She shrieked so loud it made me flinch.

“Joel!” I said, grinning like an idiot. “He just—he was about to leave for a site visit and stopped me, and he asked if I’d stay with him. Like, at his house. For the whole fucking weekend.”

“Oh my God. Oh my God.” She sounded like she was pacing in a circle now. “And you said yes, right? Tell me you said yes.”

“Of course! Are you fucking crazy?” I turned onto my street, the smile still stuck to my face like glue. “And he told me to ‘pack light.’”

There was a long, dramatic gasp on the other end. “This man is going to destroy you.”

I laughed so hard I had to pull over. “Mar, we haven’t done it yet. Not all the way.”

“Exactly!” she screeched. “Which means this weekend is it! You’re telling me you’ve had all this tension, all this teasing, and now he’s inviting you to spend two days alone at his place with no distractions? Girl, you’re done. You’re not surviving.”

I covered my face with my hand, half-laughing, half-panicking. “I think I blacked out a little after he said it. He looked nervous too. Like he wasn’t sure I’d say yes.”

“Of course he looked nervous. You’re hot, you’re smart, and you’re the only person who can make that man smile. He’s probably terrified you’re gonna realize your power and run off.”

I groaned. “I’m gonna die. What am I gonna tell my dad?”

“Is he home?”

“No he’s working, and he works late on Fridays. So boom I pack my bag now, Joel will pick me up at home after work and I’m good.”

“Just text him and tell him you’re staying with a friend.”

“I’ll say Claire. I haven’t seen Claire since sophomore year.”

“All the better,” she said. “He won’t ask questions, wont have connections. Now go home, shower, pack, shave everything, and maybe stretch. He might fuck you upside down by the end of the weekend.”

I was still laughing when we hung up, my heart hammering against my ribs. This was really happening.

I was packing a bag to spend the weekend with Joel Miller.

I walked in with a grin I couldn’t wipe off if I tried. Swinging the front door open like I was starring in a romcom, phone still clutched in the other, and the echo of Marissa’s teasing still ringing in my ears. I was practically glowing.

Then I looked up and immediately froze.

My dad was sitting on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, a box of tissues on the table in front of him, and very much not at work like I thought he’d be.

“Dad?” My voice came out high and startled. “Why are you home?”

He looked up at me with tired eyes and a red nose, sniffling. “Didn’t feel great this morning. Called off. Figured I’d stay home and sleep it off.”

“Oh.” My brain short-circuited. My smile dropped a fraction. “Yeah. That makes sense.”

He gave me a weird look. “Why are you all smiley?”

“I’m not,” I said too quickly, walking past him and clutching my bag like it held national secrets. “Just, uh... Lunch break. Lots of caffeine.”

“Uh huh.” He blew his nose, eyes squinting like he wasn’t totally buying it. “You heading back to the office afterwards?”

“I…” I paused, Shit. “Yeah I am. I um actually. I was gonna… stay with Claire tonight. And tomorrow.”

He raised a brow. “Claire?”

“Yeah! Yeah, she’s a friend from High School. Wanted to catch up.”

He nodded slowly, obviously noting my lie. “Alright,” he muttered, reaching for the remote.

I rushed to my room, heart pounding harder than it had all day. I closed the door behind me, trying not to let out a nervous scream.

How the hell was I gonna get Joel to pick me up without my dad getting suspicious? He already knows i’m fucking lying. I pulled out my phone and texted Joel.

“My dad’s home sick. Gonna have to get a little creative with this pickup.”

I stared at the screen, already spinning half a dozen backup lies in my head. But the idea of not going? Not seeing him?

Not an option.

I just had to be sneaky and smart.

[adoreispunk]

Out Of Reach (joel miller au)

“My hands slide along her jaw, fingers grabbing onto her hair, pulling it back for her so I can see her better. Every sinful movement. She moans against me, the sound deep and soft, my control slips just a little more.”

wc: 2.9k

tags: content warning, 18+ MDNI, head, giving and receiving, teasing, edging, fingering, dirty talk, work sex, smut.

eight

I woke up with her still on my skin.

Not just her scent, not just the echo of her voice in my ears, but the feel of her. How her legs had wrapped around my waist like they were made to fit there. How she’d said my name. 

I stretched and sat up, letting the morning light hit my face. 

I had gotten back home yesterday and came harder than ever. My dick was painfully hard from not having her touch me. Even with her spread out for me in the back of my truck or with the taste of her in my mouth, I controlled myself. I needed her badly. 

She’d wanted me. Said it plain as day. Hell, touched me like she meant it.

I didn’t second-guess any of it. I couldn’t afford to. Not when it had taken every bit of my self-control not to turn the truck around and ask her to spend the night. Not just for more of what we had in the backseat. 

Now, as I pulled into the office lot, there was only a low hum of anticipation, buzzing beneath my ribs. 

I just hope she hadn’t changed her mind overnight. That she hadn’t decided it was a mistake. 

But the second I stepped through the doors and saw her show up extra early, sitting at her desk, hair down, fingers flying across her keyboard like nothing had changed. I knew better.

She glanced up.

Her eyes softened. That smile, the same one she gave me when she was under me. 

“Morning,” she said, casual and light, but the edge of it held something warmer.

She reached for the cup next to hers and slid out from the desk without missing a beat. “Got this for you. Thought you might be needing it.”

I stepped closer, took it from her hand. Our height difference making her look up at me. 

“Thanks, babygirl.” I said, letting my voice go low and rough just to see what it did to her.

Her breath caught for a second. Barely.

She sat down and went back to typing. Her sweet coffee drink next to her. I could tell she was aware of how I was standing next to her. Her posture, the way her thighs shifted just slightly under her skirt. 

And after everything yesterday, why the hell should we be shy about it?

I swung her chair toward me gently, not enough to startle—just enough to make her eyes snap up to mine. They were wide, warm, and hungry already.

I bent down and kissed her.

Soft, slow. Not rushed or desperate like last night. My mouth found hers like I already knew the shape of it by heart. And she kissed me back instantly, her hands lifting to grip the front of my shirt, tugging just slightly like she couldn’t help it.

Her lips parted under mine and I deepened it for just a second. Just enough to remind her how it had felt to be beneath me. 

Then I pulled back, resting my forehead against hers.

“You know I’m not gonna be able to keep my hands to myself around you now,” I muttered, a smile tugging at the corner of my mouth.

She smiled too, flushed and a little breathless. “Yeah? I’m not mad about that”

I ran my thumb along her jaw before stepping back, careful not to push our luck too far. Yet.

But damn, just that taste of her again already had me aching for more.

“Let’s try to make it through at least a few hours of work,” I said low, tipping my head towards her laptop . “Or I’m not gonna be able to focus on a damn thing.”

She licked her lips as I stepped back, still catching her breath. But the next thing out of her mouth wasn’t flirtatious, it was business. And I’ll be damned if that didn’t turn me on in a whole different way.

“So,” she started, reaching for her laptop, “I started the recruiting process this morning. Got here at 6”

I blinked. “Yeah?”

“Mhm, couldn’t sleep.” She says, smirking. She pulled up an email chain and turned the screen toward me. “I reached out to the trade school just outside of town—sent an inquiry about partnership opportunities. They’ve got a fresh graduating class coming up, and I asked if we could do an info session or bring some of the crew to talk about what it’s like working here.”

I sit back in my chair making eye contact with her, so she knows she has my full attention. 

“I also contacted the local union,” she added. “Asked for their job placement advisor. They’ve got a few people with hours banked but no permanent employer lined up yet. I figured if we get them in before peak summer projects, we’ll be ahead of schedule. Told them my boss would be in contact.”

I let out a low whistle, slow and appreciative.

She turned to look up at me, waiting for a reaction, maybe a little nervous. But I didn’t make her wait.

“Good girl.”

Her eyes fluttered slightly, like those words did something to her. And I meant them too. 

“Really,” I said, arms crossed. “That’s the kind of thing I’ve been tryin’ to do for months, but didn’t have the time or know where to start. You just might end up runnin’ this place better than I do.”

She flushed, but tried to hide it with a shrug. “You’re just saying that because I brought you coffee and let you kiss me before 9 a.m.”

I huffed a laugh, shaking my head. “Nah. That’s just a bonus.”

Her grin told me she was proud of herself and wanted more of that praise. Hell, I'll give her as much as she wants.

The rain had started sometime after noon, tapping against the windows in a steady way that made it hard to focus. One of those days where everything felt slower, heavier. Like the air itself was telling me to sit still and rest but that wasn’t in the cards.

I’d been back and forth all day catching up on bookkeeping, chasing down receipts that should’ve been in the system but weren’t. Every time I stepped back inside to my office, I caught her there, focused, calm, completely locked in.

God, the way she looked when she was working—brows pinched together, lips pressed or tugged into that little smirk when she said something just right on a call. She didn’t even know how distracting she was. Or maybe she did.

————

By the time five rolled around, the office was quiet. Everyone else had cleared out. Just her and me, the sound of the rain, and the hum of the overhead lights. I’d sunk back in my chair, hands rubbing across my face, eyes blurry from staring at the same damn spreadsheet for the past hour. Numbers that didn’t add up, deadlines that were creeping closer.

Then I heard Olivia’s laptop close followed by her voice.

“Joel?”

I looked up, she was standing by her desk, eyes soft but firm. 

“Yeah?” I said, already feeling some ease in my chest just from the sight of her.

“You need a break.”

I opened my mouth—about to say I was fine, that I’d finish up soon, but she was already moving. Walking over slowly. 

I’m serious,” she said, her hip sitting on the corner of my desk where I can see her bright red lace panties peeking through. “You’ve been hunched over that screen for hours.” her voice dropped just a little, steady and warm like she knew what she was doing.  

I place my hand on their thigh, “I’ll be okay, babygirl. I gotta finish up.”

I go to turn back to the mess on my table when she grabs my knee to stop myself from turning away from her.

She eased down to her knees between my legs like she had been rehearsing it in her head. Her hands slid up my thighs, slow and sure, fingertips dragging over denim, and I could barely breathe.

“You need a break.” She repeated looking down at my growing bulge, lips parted just enough. “Let me help you.”

Yeah I need a break.

I leaned back in the chair, hands braced on the arms. My pulse was thumping hard in my throat, and I swear I could hear the rain on the windows matchin’ the beat of it. Her hands found the button on my jeans, undoing them. My eyes fluttered closed for a second.

“Olivia,” I muttered, low, barely a warning.

“I know,” she said, softer now. “I remember what you said. About not being’ able to stop if I used my mouth on you.”

She looked up at me again, head tilted. Eyes wide and damn near glowing. “But you don’t have to. Not if you don’t wanna.”

Jesus.

There was no fight left in me. Not with her lookin’ at me like that, hands gentle, patient. 

She worked my pants down enough for her to have space to pull my boxers off. My dick slaps up against my stomach from the release. I was throbbing, I needed her so desperately at this moment. 

I watch as her eyes dim and darken. “So fucking big.”

She hasn't touched me yet. She just keeps running her hands up and down my thighs and up my shirt. Wanting me to give in and beg. But that’s not me. 

“Fuck— You think you’ve got control right now? Keep pushin’ me, babygirl. See how fast that changes.”

She looks up to me with sex filled eyes, pressed onto her knees in front of me 

“Didn’t know you were so impatient, Mr. Miller.”

“Mr. Miller.” She says it all sweet like that, thinking she’s in control. Don’t know she’s playin’ with fire, callin’ me that like I ain’t two seconds from takin’ her apart right here on this floor.

She finally brings her hands up to grab me, slowly and deliberately. I can tell she’s still trying to take her time, trying to drive me crazy. 

I grunt low in my throat, hips twitching into her grip before I can stop myself. Every stroke’s a tease, and she knows it. I need more of her. 

“If you’re gonna keep tryin’ to be smart with that pretty mouth, might as well put it to good use.”

She smirks, all pleased with herself, and finally takes me in. Wrapping her tongue around my tip to clean off the beads of precum. Then finally all the way down, takin’ me into that warm, perfect mouth. Hittin’ every good spot. Precision that damn near knocks the breath outta my lungs.

She takes me out again and spits directly on me.

“Fuck— that’s it babygirl, show me how bad you’ve been wanting me.”

She starts bobbing her head, taking time to take all of me into her mouth. Gagging and coming up for breath making her makeup run under her eyes. 

My hands slide along her jaw, fingers grabbing onto her hair, pulling it back for her so I can see her better. Every sinful movement. She moans against me, the sound deep and soft, my control slips just a little more.

“Mhm— there we go baby, look at me.”

She keeps going, never slowing down. Her eyes stay on mine just like I told her to.

My hands tighten, threading my fingers through her hair, guiding her exactly where I need her. She lets me, all too willing, eyes half-lidded like she enjoys it. 

She pulls up for a second “Mhm- I wanna make you feel so fucking good. I wanna taste you” 

She’s watching me fall apart like she planned it from the start. Exactly what I wanted, on her knees in my office. 

I grit my teeth, jaw locked tight as my head falls back against the chair. Every nerve in my body is lit up, strung out between wanting to drag this moment out and the desperate need to let go.

I held her down one last time and cum right into her mouth. Deep moans followed by a string of cuss words. 

I pull her off not expecting how she would react but she looks right back at me and swallows all of me.

I grab her with one arm, clearing my desk with the other in a messy swipe. All my days' work scatter to the floor, but I don’t care. I set her down on the desk in one motion. 

I reach down and kiss her hard on the table. Pinning her down with my hand just above her throat. Soft but stable. 

I worked her skirt up her hips, working those red panties I saw peeking earlier off and then throwing them across the room. And without warning I shove my fingers into her. 

“Oh my— fuck Joel.” She says using her elbows to hold herself up to look at me. Her eyes rolled back in the most pornographic way. 

I move back. With a firm grip, I placed my hands on her thighs, spreading them apart as I positioned myself between her legs. “Stay still,” I instructed, the authority in my voice. 

Her eyes widened in surprise and excitement, but she listened , the tension in her body easing as she leaned back slightly.

As soon as I put my mouth on her, I taste all of her. She gets so wet for me, drives me fucking crazy. I swirl my tongue around cleaning all of her up. 

“You wanted me to cum in your mouth huh? Got you fucking soaked from it” I move up to see her head thrown back in pure pleasure.

I move back down drawing circles around her clit with my tongue. I throw my fingers back in making her hips buck in response. 

I start sucking, noting the exact spot she likes most. When I get it again I start going faster and more deliberate. 

“Yeah— right there. Fuck Joel you’re gonna make me cum already”

I don’t slow down. She took her time with me, all slow and smug, and part of me wanted to return the favor. Make her wait for it. But the way she sounds, the way she tastes. I’m too far gone for that now.

She moans loud and unfiltered, like she doesn’t care who might hear. 

She finally falls apart for me, screaming my name like it’s the only word she knows. I stay right there, mouth pressed on her, tasting every bit of what she gives me.

My eyes trail up over the curve of her hips, catching the look on her face. Head tossed back, lips parted, eyes fluttering. She looks like sin and heaven all at once, completely wrecked.

I could get used to seeing her like this. From right here.

She’s still breathing heavy, chest rising against mine as she pulls up for a kiss—slow, warm, like a thank you. I wrap my arms around her,

holding her close as the last of that tension drains from both of us. 

Her arm curls around the back of my neck for balance. When she finally pulls back, there’s this soft little laugh in her throat, and she looks down at the mess around us.

“Joel,” she murmurs, amused, “All your work is on the floor.”

I glance around at the scattered papers, receipts, folders. Then back at her, still laid out across my desk like a damn dream.

“Don’t care,” I say, voice low, rough around the edges. “Hardest part of my day was sitting’ across from you all damn afternoon and not touchin’ you.”

Her smile widens, eyes dancing as her hand drags down the back of my neck.

“I was real close to lockin’ that office door hours ago,” I add, leaning in to brush my mouth along her jaw. “But then I thought—nah let her squirm a little.”

She hums at that, biting her lip. “You’re a cruel man, Joel Miller.”

“Yeah,” I smirk, kissing just below her ear. “But you like it.”