#CAN YOU FEEEEEEEL IT | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

absurdthirst · 1 year

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The Road to a Second Chance {Joel Miller x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 9.8k

Warnings: Rough sex, unprotected sex, angst, hurt feelings, surprises!, dad Joel, mention of pregnancy, oral sex (female receiving), feeeeeeelings

Comments: You love Joel, and after a particularly bad run, you finally get to have him. Only to be heartbroken when he rejects you immediately after. Leaving you to flee the Boston QZ with Tommy. Nearly five years later, Joel shows up looking for you and Tommy and finds you living a surprising life.

A/N: Contains spoilers for The Last of Us, Episode 1 x 06: Kin

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| MasterList || Joel Miller MasterList ||

Gif by @tomshiddles

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

Joel is a tough man. Hard and rough with little time or patience for tenderness. It makes sense that he fucks the same way that he lives. “Fuck!” The table he has you perched on shakes, groaning and threatening to collapse under the relentless force of his thrusts. Driving the thick girth of his cock ever deeper and hammering against your cervix like he is trying to beat down a fucking door. Leaving to you cling to him and moan out his name, eyes closed and cunt fluttering around him.

You aren’t even undressed. Just stripped down enough to fuck, his hand gripping your thigh like you’ll disappear if he doesn’t leave bruises on your skin. “Fuck Joel!”

He is rough, hurried and uncaring as he pushes deep inside of you. You were on a run and bumped into some poachers, nearly lost you when you were grazed by a bullet, and that has sent him into a frenzy. Dragging you back into the QZ and after cleaning your wound, he was animalistic in his attempt to get inside of you. “Can’t - you were fuckin’ stupid. Nearly lost you.” He growls, gripping your thigh harder like you’re about to disappear from beneath him.

You shudder and cling to him, your entire body on fire from the fervor and fury in his eyes. The anger tempered with what you swear is a deeper emotion. Because if that, you don’t care that it pinches every time he slams his hips forward. “S-still h-here.” You gasp out, reaching up and curling your fingers around the hair at the base of his neck. “S-sh-shit!” You squeal, throwing your head back and letting another loud moan out.

He clenches his jaw, watching you as you moan and clench around him. He grunts when you tug on his hair and he loves the pain, assured that you’re here, you’re alive. Tess is meeting up with that guy from across the QZ and won’t be back. He doesn’t care either way, he just needs you, to feel you, to swallow every breath and assure himself you’re in his arms. He presses his forehead against yours, your breath mingling. “Cum for me.”

“Joel.” You whimper, closing your eyes and feel the rush of pleasure wash over you. Totally consumed by it and the way that your heart flutters. It’s never been a secret that you’ve had a thing for Joel, even if he didn’t always seem to care about that. It’s just the way he was. Not even Tess had the close intimacy you crave, but right now, it feels like you are the most important person in his world. “Yes, yes, fuck!” You cry out, choking out his name when your peak crests.

His eyes flutter when you grip him like a vice but he manages to keep them open so he can watch you cum. Groaning your name, he finally presses his lips to yours, allowing himself this moment of intimacy, and he pushes deep inside of you. Cock twitching and he couldn’t pull out if he tried. He cums hard and fast, painting your walls and groaning into your mouth while his hands grip your waist like you’re his anchor in a storm.

You whine, feeling the heat of his release filling you. Completely overwhelming you in a torrent of pleasure and making you close your eyes as you start to pant. “Holy- holy shit.” You can’t help but giggle quietly, leaning in and kissing his jaw and he rides out his orgasm.

He allows himself this moment, turning his head to press his lips to yours, sliding his tongue into your mouth until he’s pulling back and pulling out. “You need sleep.” He orders, tucking himself away and he makes his way over to the sink to wet a rag so he can clean you up. He shouldn’t have cum inside of you, it was dangerous, but he couldn’t help it, not when he needed to know you’re alive and in his arms. He gently cleans his cum from between your thighs and helps you stand so he can pull your jeans up. Guiding you over to the bed, he takes off his boots and lays down beside you, pulling you back against him. “Sleep.” He orders, knowing he won’t, his mind is turning.

Exhausted, you don’t argue with him, sighing softly and closing your eyes. It’s going to be hard, navigating the touchy areas of your relationship now, but you know that Tess will accept it. It’s not like they’ve been ‘together’. “I love you.” You murmur softly, immediately falling asleep in the comfort of Joel’s strong arms.

Joel doesn’t respond, just holds you and wonders what the hell he’s done. Emotions are weakness, relationships are weakness. They can be held against you and used for exploitation. He shouldn’t have done this, shouldn’t have touched you. He waits until you’re asleep and heads out to find Tommy who will be nursing his own wounds from the confrontation.

Tommy wraps his hand, hissing slightly at the broken skin over the knuckles. The poachers had been ruthless and one of them had gotten close enough to fight Tommy one on one. He looks up as Joel approaches, frowning back down at his hand as he secures the bandage. “She okay?” Joel had dragged you into the apartment building and told Tommy to stay put. He hadn’t heard any arguing per-say, but you two had been loud.

“Yeah. She’s fine. Just needs to rest. So do you.” Joel orders his younger brother who shifts to pour another glass of the shit whiskey Bill manages to get them.

“I can’t rest. Not until…I know you hate it but the Fireflies-”

Joel cuts him off with a growl, “the fuckin’ Fireflies are gonna get you killed. Stay away from them. They’re trouble.” Joel hisses and Tommy shakes his head

“They’re the future. They want democracy. Freedom.” Tommy says and Joel grabs the glass and sits down, “you always wanna save the world. Well, it’s too fuckin’ late Tommy. The world we knew is gone. This is the new world and our goal is survivin’. Don’t get sucked in by their bullshit.”

Tommy slams the glass down, “it’s not bullshit. It’s - it’s a possible new world. It’s - we have - I have a lot of shit to make up for, the things we did…” Tommy trails off and Joel shakes his head, “the things I did to keep your ass alive. Don’t make it all in vain.”

Tommy clicks his tongue, “I’m leavin’, tomorrow. It’s already been decided. There’s a group of Fireflies going west.”

“No.” Joel shakes his head. “No, no, Tommy that ain’t smart.” He hisses, making Tommy chuckle darkly.

“And you’re smart, big brother?” He demands. “Actin’ like people don’t matter? She doesn’t matter?” He raises his eyebrows at Joel. “Tell me you didn’t just use her?” He challenges. “Tell me you care about her and I won’t say another word.”

Joel clenches his jaw, staring at Tommy until he averts his eyes and swallows down the words in his throat. He can’t say the words, it’s too dangerous to speak them into existence. He can’t have any weaknesses in this world after he lost Sarah. “That’s what I thought.” Tommy scoffs and taps his fingers on the table, the silence is heavy for a few moments until he speaks again. “She isn’t some toy you can play with and put back on the shelf. I know she wants to come with us tomorrow but she won’t…because of you. She wants to stay because she loves you and -”

Joel shakes his head, “stop.”

Tommy laughs harshly, “you can’t even hear me say it. Jesus Joel, you gotta let her go. If you don’t want her, let her go.”

Joel knows that would be best but he can’t. You’re the light in his life. Him and Tess and Tommy are all stained by their sins but you’re not, you are good, kind hearted and loving. He doesn’t deserve you. “I fuckin’ said stop.” Joel slams his fist on the table and stands up, walking towards the door. “If you leave tomorrow, you’re gonna fuckin’ die out there and I won’t come lookin’ for you.” Joel warns, trying to scare his brother into staying. Tommy snorts and shakes his head, wanting to reply but there’s no point, Joel won’t leave the QZ and Tommy has decided to go.

“Then I guess this is goodbye.” Tommy offers, making Joel scoff, shaking his head as he pushes angrily to his feet.

“Bye.” Joel throws over his shoulder as he stomps off, angry that he can’t keep his brother here, worried that the Fireflies will get him killed, get him into danger that he can’t get out of without Joel. Slamming back into the apartment, he wakes you up, making you jolt and sit straight up with a shout. “Shit, oh, uh, Joel.” You relax and smile at him softly, reaching out for him across the apartment from the bed. “Come lay down.” You urge him even though he had just been beside you. “Please, baby?”

He shakes his head, “no. I can’t - I can’t do this. I’m sorry. We shouldn’t - it was wrong. It was a mistake and we can’t do it again.” He says, knowing you will be heartbroken but this is what he does. He pushes people away. “I can’t do this shit.” He hisses and grabs his jacket, knowing it’s risky to go out during the curfew but he can’t stay in this apartment.

Feeling like you’ve been punched in the gut, tears fall as you stare at the door. Feeling used and dirty for the way he had touched you and then just casually discarded you when he had gotten what he wanted. “Fuck.” You climb out of the bed and rush out of Joel’s apartment, needing to get to yours and pack. Tommy had begged you to come with him west and you had resisted because you love Joel. Now, you realize that it would never be and you would be a fool to stay here and keep getting your feelings hurt. You’re leaving and you’ll never have to see Joel Miller again.

****

“Tommy!” Joel shouts when he sees his brother. “Tommy!” He shouts again and Tommy looks around, eyes widening. He makes his way off of the scaffolding and rushes towards Joel, both of them embracing and Joel is relieved to see his brother finally after searching for so long. Tommy left 4 years ago and it took Joel way too long to get the supplies he needed to head west.

You hear the commotion and step outside of the shop where you work, eyes widening when you see the last man you ever thought you would see again. Joel Miller is in Jackson, Wyoming. Quickly, you step back into the shop and close the door, your heart pounding and you don’t know what you are going to do. Walking over to Diana, you make an excuse and take off your apron. The jams you were going to preserve would wait for tomorrow and you need to make sure that Tommy doesn’t say too much to his brother.

“Where is she?” Joel asks Tommy, anxious to see you, to make sure you’re okay. After losing Tess, he is certain that this life is too short. He needs to make amends in some way.

“She’s here.” Tommy says, glancing over at the store you work in, not wanting to say more. It’s not his place. “Come on, let’s get you something to eat.” He says, slapping his brother’s back and soon enough, he and Ellie are shoving food into their mouths.

“There’s more if you need it.” Maria offers, watching the two eat quickly, like their food will be taken from them. The large cafeteria is pretty deserted, although there are still people milling around. “Thank you, ma’am.” Joel tells her. “It’s been awhile since we’ve had a proper meal.”

Ellie pipes up. “Actually, I don’t think I’ve ever had a proper meal. This is fucking amazing.”

Joel stares at the girl, wishing she wouldn’t curse like that, especially in front of his brother and what he assumes is the town leader. You slip into the cafeteria after checking on things and walk around the back behind Joel and the girl. Catching Tommy’s eye and sharing a look with him. You don’t know what he’s going to tell Joel, or even why Joel is here. Especially since you didn’t see Tess and you don’t recognize the girl he’s traveling with.

Joel follows Tommy’s gaze and looks over his shoulder, his eyes widening when he sees you standing there. God, you’re still so gorgeous, even with that frown on your face. “Hi,” Joel says softly, “long time no see.” It’s lame but it’s all that he’s able to say, his heart thumping in his chest.

Swallowing harshly, you can see that time has aged Joel even more. The gray is heavier in his hair and yet he’s still stupidly handsome. “What are you doing here, Joel?” You ask, arching a brow up as you look at the girl. “You promised you wouldn’t come looking for us.” Tommy had told you what he had said that night while you had been pissed at the time, you had thought it would be a cold day in hell before you saw Joel again.

“I- I came here to look for Tommy…and for you.” He adds and Ellie raises her eyebrows.

“You said you wouldn’t follow us.” You cross your arms and Maria senses this is a conversation that doesn’t need to be had in the cafeteria.

She says your name, capturing your attention, “you have two extra bedrooms. You’re hosting Joel and Ellie. They both need a shower and some clean clothes.” Maria gives you a pointed look and Joel can see your anger in your eyes.

Your nostrils flare because Maria knows why you wouldn’t want Joel to stay in your house, or be anywhere near it. However, you don’t want to voice that now. Instead you nod stiffly and Maria sends everyone a pleased smile. “How about a tour?” She asks, as if everything is fine and dandy.

While Tommy is still recovering from discovering he lives in a commune and is therefore a communist, Joel and Ellie go back to your house to get cleaned up. The house is occupied when you open the door, a little boy rushing up to you shouting “mommy!” Joel’s confused and his heart breaks, waiting to see the father come into the hallway but it’s another woman.

“He was very good. We made a snowman and he ate his fruit. He was good as always.” Jessica, the teenager who lives down the street smiles at you.

“Thank you. I’ll bring some things over to you tomorrow to say thank you.”

She nods and leans down to the little boy. “Bye JJ.” She says and ruffles his hair and that’s when Joel sees his face. Just like his own; same nose, same eyes, he has the same hair color.

“Jesus.” He hisses, feeling like he’s been hit by a truck.

Picking up your son, you can see that Joel suspects. Turning to Ellie, you give the girl a smile, it’s not her fault she’s with the last person you wanted to see. “Top of the stairs, first door on the left, there’s a spare room. Used to be a girl around your age living there. “Shower’s right next door. I’ll get you some clean clothes to change into.” You offer, glancing back at your son when he tugs on your face and leans in to kiss you happily. “Hey baby, thank you for being good.” You coo to your son.

“Miss you, mama.” JJ whines and wraps his arms around your neck.

You smile and kiss his cheek, “I missed you too baby.”

Joel is standing there still, his eyes apprehensive and his body is frozen, his mouth open but no words come out. “Is he - Jesus. Is he -?” He can’t even get the words out.

“Is he what?” You demand, the soft smile you had given to your son is gone as your eyes shift back to Joel. “Yours?” You snort, tightening your grip on your son for a moment before you turn to him.

“Go play with your blocks, JJ.” You order him softly before you set him down. “Mama will be in there in a minute.” The boy starts running for the front room where you had established his playroom and you straighten up to face his father. “He’s yours.” You admit. “Not that anyone but Tommy and Maria know that. His name is Joel, Junior. JJ for short.”

Joel feels like he’s died on that very spot. To find out he has a son. That he’s three and you traveled across the country while pregnant. It’s all too much and he can’t handle it. He spins on his heel and storms out of the house, needing to find Tommy to get some answers. He rallies towards the workshop - the closest empty place he can find - needing to process and Tommy appears about fifteen minutes into Joel’s panic attack. “Sit down.” Tommy orders, concerned by his brother’s reaction. “You met your kid?” Tommy asks.

Joel shakes his head, “why didn’t you fucking radio me?”

“She didn’t want me to.” It’s the most simple answer Tommy has, you had made him promise that he wouldn’t tell Joel. So he hadn’t. “She didn’t know, since that was obviously the only time.” He explains, shuffling through the workshop and huffing. “Fuck, man, I delivered that little boy. We had left the Fireflies and were looking for a safe place for her to give birth. JJ was born in a little motel off I-20. About two days' ride from here.”

Joel absorbs that information with a sharp inhale, hearing that Tommy had to deliver the baby and you had him in an abandoned motel. It’s more than he can handle. He stands up, clenching his fists, “I- fuck - I should’ve been there. I- I shouldn’t have let her leave the QZ. I shouldn’t -” Joel swipes his hand on the workbench, sending the tools flying. “Fuck!” He chokes, rubbing his face.

“You would have - what? Declared your undying love for her? Been happy about the kid and just fallen into fatherhood again?” Tommy scoffs and shakes his head. “Where’s Tess, Joel?” He demands, wondering why his brother looks like he’s about to pass out. “Why isn’t she here?”

Joel inhales deeply, trying to ignore the tears stinging in his eyes as he finally allows himself to be vulnerable. “She got bit. She - back in Boston, with the kid - she told me to save who I could save.” He reveals, “the kid…she’s immune. She got bit and it’s been months - months - but she’s fine. She - she could be the cure.” Joel says and Tommy leans back in his seat. “Ellie…she’s - I’m gonna get her killed. You gotta - Tommy you gotta take her to Colorado. I’m too old, I’m fuckin’ deaf in one ear and I’m - I can’t do it. You gotta take her.”

Back at the house, you hear the shower turn off, looking up at the ceiling where you are playing with JJ. Once she’s dressed, Maria wants to see her next door, so when she comes downstairs, you send her that way. Trying very hard to not think about the fact that Joel is wandering around your town or that he was sleeping under your roof. You’ll just give him shelter until he leaves again. He had to be on his way once he saw that Tommy’s fine. Go back to Tess and leave you to your life.

“Go talk to her, Joel.” Tommy orders, seeing his brother cry has him agreeing to take Ellie in the morning. The grief that weighs Joel down has Tommy agreeing despite him knowing that Maria won’t be happy.

Hours later, you are putting JJ to bed when the door opens and Joel walks in and finds you in the hall after you creep down the stairs. “I’m so fuckin’ sorry.” He whispers, knowing there’s so much more he has to say.

The only reason you don’t just ignore Joel is because of the wrecked look on his face. Shoving your hands into your jeans, you shrug. “You didn’t know.” You murmur, thinking he’s apologizing about getting you pregnant. “Maria found us when JJ was a few months old. Safety and this place is all he’s known.” You know about Sarah, Tommy had told you more about her than Joel ever had. “Hopefully it’ll be all he ever knows. Security.”

Joel is grateful now that Tommy had left. The Boston QZ was a cruel place for a kid. They just put them in the military school to indoctrinate them into FEDRA. “I can’t believe you navigated the entire fucking country while pregnant.” He says, in awe of you and how brave you are.

“Thought I was throwing up because of the goddamn water.” You admit, shaking your head now at how naïve you had been. “I don’t expect anything.” You promise him. “I know - you’re going back to Boston. I’m sure it’s….hard, because of - you know.” You glance up, JJ’s bedroom right above you. “But I’ll make sure he’s okay.”

Joel feels like a knife is in his chest, torn between staying here and doing what’s right, or taking Ellie to Colorado on the chance that she could be the key to saving the world. He shakes his head, “I’m not going back to Boston. I gotta take Ellie to Colorado. She - she’s immune. She was bit…months ago. And she’s fine. She is alive. It didn’t spread. The Fireflies said they can create a cure. They are based in Colorado.” He says, breathing a little heavier.

As soon as Joel said she was bit, you had taken a step towards the stairs on instinct. The need to protect your son from harm is nearly overwhelming. You only stop when he holds his hands up to stop you. Joel isn’t the type of man to let someone infected linger. “A cure?” You whisper, eyes wide as you imagine a world where the fungus was beaten. Where it was safe from infection. “Jesus, Joel. You have to get her to them.” You murmur.

“I- I asked Tommy to take her. I’m too damn old, sweetheart. I’m too old and too fuckin’ deaf and I’m useless. I can’t- Tommy has to take her and I- I want to - I’ll go if you tell me. I deserve that. To be banished. It’s your call, baby. You say the word and I’m gone.” Joel wants to reach for you but he shoves his hands into his jeans, not wanting to overstep.

“Fuck you, Miller.” You scoff and give a dry laugh. “It never changes with you, does it? You run when shit gets hard.” It’s fucking disappointing to see. “You care about the girl so you’re going to tuck tail and run like you did with me. That girl is obviously attached to you and you’re just going to hand her over to a stranger?”

Joel shakes his head, “I’m not runnin’, I’m savin’ her. Like I did you. I’m broken. You don’t - I didn’t deserve you. I don’t deserve you. You’re too good, I’d destroy you. I would’ve destroyed you and that’s why I left. I lost Sarah and I-” He cuts himself off, knowing he didn’t tell you about his daughter.

“I know about Sarah.” You tell him quietly. “Tommy told me. He told me how it broke you, how you felt you failed her. But you didn’t.” You shake your head and look up at the ceiling again. “I know- I know that if you had been given a chance you would have taken her place in a heartbeat. In a heartbeat. Because I would die for JJ. I couldn’t imagine losing him but it doesn’t mean you quit living.”

Joel shakes his head, “I failed her. I’ve failed you. I have failed Ellie and I failed that little boy that I had no clue existed until today. I’ve failed everyone and it’s best if I go it alone.” He chokes, knowing that any chance of happiness is long gone. He’s destroyed himself and his happiness. You should be kicking him out now and doing yourself and that boy a favor.

“Jesus Christ, Joel.” You can’t help but take a step closer to him, wanting to reach out and comfort him. “You only fail us when you give up.” You promise him, biting your lip so you don’t cry. “Even when I was mad at you, I still wished you were with me. Holding my hand when I was pushing JJ out and wishing you could hold him.”

He chokes, reaching for you to pull you into his chest and he buries his face in your hair, needing to reassure himself that you’re okay, he’s okay. “I’m sorry.” He murmurs, “I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I shouldn’t have left you that night. I didn’t want to. I thought it was for the best.”

Joel pulls you closer, squeezing you for several moments before he pulls back and looks towards the stairs. “Can I- can I meet him? You don’t - it doesn’t have to be as his dad, but I want to meet him.”

There is a part of you that wants to keep JJ for yourself but you find yourself nodding. “Yeah.” You manage. “You can meet him.” Reaching for his hand, you turn towards the stairs and start leading him towards them. “He’s always sweet when he wakes up.” You tell Joel. “Smiling and snuggly.”

Joel’s heart pounds in his chest as you guide him up the stairs to the little boy’s room. He’s so fucking nervous to meet his son. God, he never imagined he’d say that. You open the door and the little boy is still awake, always so stubborn when he has to take a nap. He stays behind you, allowing you to enter the bedroom decorated with stars and planets.

“Hey buddy.” You coo as he grins up at you and immediately reaches up to have you pick him up. “Joel.” You murmur softly. “Come on in.” You pick up JJ and shift him onto your hip. “Do you want to meet a new friend?”

Joel is cautious as he enters the room. He doesn’t know what he should say but he moves in to come and stand in the bedroom, toys scattered everywhere and it’s almost normal. This child has no idea of the cruel reality of this new world. He’s completely innocent even though Joel has enough blood on his hands to fill a swimming pool. “Ya!” JJ nods, looking over at Joel with curiosity.

“Hey buddy. I’m Joel.” He says, gesturing to himself.

“Joel? I’m Joel!” The little boy shrieks in delight.

You can’t help the way you start to tear up as Joel comes closer to his son for the first time. Biting your lip and looking at the naked emotion in Joel’s eyes. “Do you want to hold him?” You offer softly but JJ lunges forward to throw himself into his father’s arms.

With a grunt, Joel swallows down the tears that sting in his eyes as the little boy embraces him, not judging him for his sins. To him, he’s someone with the same name and that’s all he needs to know. Joel wraps his arms around his son, breathing him in, and he buries his face in his hair. When JJ pulls back to look at his father, Joel meets your gaze, unsure of what to say.

“JJ, baby,” you move closer and you brush his hair back out of his face. “This is your daddy.” You introduce him. “He’s been on a long trip but he wanted to meet you.” You know Joel isn’t going to stay, so this gives him an excuse.

“Daddy!” JJ cheers and wraps his arms around his neck and Joel hugs him close, “hey little man.” He murmurs, stroking his back and he is glad you allowed him this moment. “Daddy’s been away but he’s here now. I’m sorry I took so long.” He murmurs, watching as the boy pulls back to look at you.

“Mama. I want daddy to stay.”

You clear your throat and swallow harshly. “He’s going to stay tonight.” You know Joel, he’s going to take Ellie to Colorado himself despite what he says. “And he can come back.” Your eyes meet Joel’s and you nod. “Anytime.”

Joel nods, knowing he can’t explain everything to a 3 year old. He remembers when Sarah was this age. So innocent and curious. His heart clenches when he thinks about his daughter, reminded earlier of his loss when he saw the young woman with her daughter earlier. “I’ll be back, bud.” He promises and the little boy cheers, “daddy! Come see!” JJ shrieks and shuffles off of Joel’s lap so he can rush over to grab the Elmo toy.

“He loves Sesame Street. We found some old tapes.” You explain and Joel chuckles.

“Sarah used to love Sesame Street too. Her favorite character was Oscar the Grouch. Said he was like me.” Joel smiles softly at the memory and looks back at JJ. “You like Elmo?” He asks, trying to give his son a genuine reaction when he’s spent so long suppressing his emotions.

It’s hard to watch JJ with his dad, especially since you never thought you would see it. Your own tears fall silently and you know that he’s emotional. His daughter liked the same show.

“Uh huh!” JJ chortles happily. “My favowit!”

You giggle at his mispronunciation of the word, it gets you every time. Watching as Joel shifts down to his knees with a groan. You wish you had a camera so you could take a picture to keep for JJ. “He’s so smart, Joel. He just- I know every parent thinks their child is special, but he’s already learning his ABCs.”

“Yeah?” Joel looks over his shoulder at you. “That’s - you’re smart, huh buddy?” He says and JJ nods proudly.

“Like my mama.” He replies and Joel grins, “now I know that’s the truth.” He winks at you and watches JJ play with Elmo, eventually handing him to Joel. “You know what Elmo likes, JJ?” Joel asks softly and JJ innocently shakes his head. “Tickles!” Joel announces playfully and puts Elmo into JJ’s neck to tickle him, making the little boy shriek with laughter.

It makes you have to hold your mouth, knowing you would sob if you were alone. Never seeing Joel like this before and being so damn grateful that you get to see it now. Hell, Joel hadn’t even liked you, probably never did. You had one night where you created JJ, and that was it. Watching the father and son play was a gift you never thought you would get and you’re thankful for it.

Joel grins as he makes JJ laugh and it’s like the weight of the world is off of his shoulders when he hears his son shriek with joy. He lets JJ take Elmo and he repeats the action, pushing the toy into Joel’s neck and he laughs, pretending it’s ticklish. “Daddy! Daddy! Look at my twuck.” He holds up a toy car and Joel sets Elmo aside from where JJ dropped it as he got distracted.

Joel’s eyes widen when he sees the Chevy S-10 just like Bill’s - blue and white. He is reminded of how many people he’s lost and he sees JJ looking at him with big wide innocent eyes. “Oh wow, bud. You know, daddy was drivin’ one of these.” He tells the little boy who grins, “really?” He asks and a yawn escapes his lips.

You know that JJ is needing to go to sleep. “Baby, why don’t you let daddy rock you?” It’s been a long time since he let you rock him to sleep, insisting big boys didn’t need to be rocked, but you feel like he would like his father doing it. You nod towards Joel. “I bet he would tell you a story while he rocks you. Would you like that?” If Joel could get him to settle down, JJ would fall asleep on him in minutes.

“Yes pwease mama.” JJ nods.

Joel grunts as he stands up, back aching and knees on fire but he ignores that to bend down and pick JJ up. You shift to the end of the bed and Joel holds JJ in his arms on his lap after he sits down. “A story…uh, lemme think for a second bud.” Joel murmurs until he remembers one he used to tell Sarah.

“Daddy.” JJ rushes him and Joel chuckles, starting to rock his son.

“There once was a man who loved a princess. A beautiful princess. The most beautiful princess in the entire world.”

“The world?” JJ responds in awe.

“The world.” Joel confirms before he continues, “the princess loved him too but the man wasn’t sure if the princess would love him back so he never told her how he felt. He wanted her but watched from afar, imagining a life with her but one day, she fled the kingdom, thinking her love didn’t want her, and with her, she took an egg. Not just any egg, but a dragon egg.”

JJ gasps, “dragon?”

Joel nods and continues to rock him, “the dragon egg hatched one day and the dragon was tiny. She had to feed him whatever she could find. He grew bigger. And bigger. And bigger. Until he was bigger than a house.” JJ gasps again and Joel smiles, “the dragon protected the princess as she traveled, fighting bad people until one day, she came across a town and liked it, deciding to stay. She was happy there but she missed her love and he never stopped searching for her. One day, many years later, the man came across her village and was shocked to see the princess. He’d found her. His love. And they were reunited at last, confessing how much they missed each other and loved each other. And -” Joel looks down to see JJ is asleep, “and they lived happily ever after.” He murmurs, shifting to lay his son down in his bed, carefully covering him with the comforter while you watch from the doorway.

You know the story was about you and him. You know it. Prettied up and changed to appease a toddler's sense of wonder and adventure. Making you wish that he had been around JJ from the beginning. How did you know he would be so good at it? He had never talked about Sarah, but after having your son, you understand why. It was too painful. Pushing off the doorframe, you step out into the hall and Joel closes the door behind him, leaving JJ to have dreams of princesses and her love, dragons and happiness. “You need to talk to the girl.” You tell him quietly. “After that…” you point to a door. “That’s my room. Come find me.”

Joel nods, stepping away from you and he makes his way down the stairs to find Ellie. After finding Maria, she tells him that Ellie went back to the house and Joel curses that he missed her. He makes his way over to the house and opens the door then creeps up to the teenagers room. “Is this really all they had to worry about? Boys…movies…deciding which shirt goes with which skirt. It’s bizarre.”

Joel shoves his hands into his jeans and starts, “listen” but Ellie cuts him off with “why are you here?”

Joel frowns, “I came here to talk to you.”

Ellie shakes her head, diary still in her hands, “no, why are you still here? If you’re gonna ditch me, ditch me.”

Joel realizes that she heard him talking to Tommy earlier, “what exactly did you hear?”

Ellie scoffs, “you wanting Tommy to take me. About how you left her pregnant.” Ellie points at the door and Joel sighs, “it’s complicated-”

Ellie cuts him off again, “you know I stood up for you because I thought -”

She shifts to look out of the window and Joel replies softly, “I made this decision for your own good. You’re way better off with Tommy.”

Ellie snorts, “what? Like she was?”

Joel continues, “he knows the area way better than I do.”

Ellie slams the book and stands up, “do you give a shit about me or not?”

Joel shushes her, “the kid is asleep.” He reminds her and Ellie rolls her eyes, “you mean the other kid you’ve abandoned?” She spits back and that makes Joel’s stomach twist.

“Of course I do.”Joel ignores her comment and answers Ellie’s original question.

Ellie walks towards him, “then what are you so afraid of?” Ellie stares at him, “I’m not her, you know?” Joel knows immediately who she’s talking about, his face falling. “Maria told me about Sarah and-”

“Don’t.” He warns her, shaking his head, “don’t say another word.”

Ellie steps closer, “I’m sorry about your daughter, Joel, but I have lost people too.”

Joel shakes his head, “you have no idea what loss is.”

Ellie stares at him for a moment, “everybody I have cared for, has either died or left me. Everybody fucking except for you!” Ellie pushes forward to shove Joel and he stumbles for a moment. “So don’t tell me I’d be safer with someone else because the truth is I would just be more scared.”

Joel thinks about Sarah, and about JJ for a moment. “You’re right. You’re not my daughter, and I sure as hell ain’t your dad. Now come dawn, we’re going out separate ways.” Joel steps back and walks out of the room, immediately heading to your door to open it.

One look at Joel’s face, looking up from your book, you know that the talk didn’t go well. He looks pissed and you sigh quietly as you close the book. Some things wound apparently never change. “I take it that your talk didn’t go exactly as you planned?” You ask, sure that he would just ignore it, or you altogether. He just stands there, refusing to speak, and you sigh again. “I found you some clothes.” You turn and climb off your bed to walk over to the dresser where you set them. “You can use the hall bath or my bathroom.” You tell him, still not getting an answer as he broods. “I’ll just- I’ll give you some privacy.” Feeling like you are being frozen out of your own bedroom isn’t a good feeling, but you’ve already decided that Joel isn’t going to magically become the man you wished he was.

Joel nods, making his way into your bathroom to shower. He knows you are confused and he wants to sit there and talk to you, tell you everything, but he’s had a heart to heart with Tommy and that was enough emotion for one day. He sighs and steps under the hot water when it’s ready, enjoying the heat and he groans, watching the dirt swirl down the drain. He washes his hair and his body, deciding to shave with the razor you left on the side to clean up his face and when he’s done, he makes his way out into the bedroom, towel wrapped around his waist. “I left the clothes here.” He murmurs when he sees you still sitting on the bed.

“Sorry.” You avert your eyes from him, feeling your cheeks heat up. Damning your body for its reaction to Joel. Apparently four years apart wasn’t enough to get over the physical attraction to him. It might even be worse since you’ve forged a bond with him by having his child. You stand quickly. “I-I’ll give you some privacy. Let you get dressed.” You’ll go downstairs and make some tea, hopefully a liberal splash of liquor in it will help you sleep knowing Joel is under the same roof as you tonight.

He nods, watching you leave the room and he quickly dresses, putting the towel in the laundry basket before he sits down on the bed. He thinks of Sarah, of spending Christmas with his daughter decorating the tree. Her laughs, the way she’d smile at him like he wasn’t a failure. His chest tightens and his eyes sting with tears. He doesn’t know what to do, he’s having another panic attack, imagining the amount of people he can lose because he’s no longer capable. How can he look after JJ? He’s old, he’s no longer the man he was. He’s not good enough to have another chance at being a father, to either JJ or to Ellie. Both would be better off without him. He doesn’t even hear your bedroom door open as tears stream down his cheeks.

The sight of Joel with tears streaming down his cheeks breaks you. Swiftly walking over and setting the tea down as you kneel in front of him, you take his hands. “Talk to me.” You beg quietly, wanting to help him however you can. Even if he doesn't care about you, you still want to help him.

“I- I - I’ve failed. You. Ellie. JJ. I - I can’t -” He chokes, squeezing your hands like they are a lifeline. He is drowning under his own thoughts and emotions and he is desperate for you to save him.

“Look at me. Joel, look at me.” You keep your voice steady and let him squeeze as hard as he needs to. “Breathe, breathe with me.” You urge him. “In.” You take a slow, deep breath in and hold it for a few seconds, waiting until he does the same. “And out.” You exhale slowly with him. Repeating it a few more times until the panicked expression on his face softens. “You haven’t failed us. You can’t fail us.” You promise him. “Because everything you do is always as much as you can give.” You know that. You know that there are some things that he can’t do, either to protect himself or others. “You aren’t failing anyone.”

Joel inhales deeply now that he feels like he can actually breathe again. “No. No. You don’t understand. I- the things I’ve done. I don’t deserve a second chance. I shouldn’t have left you that night. I should’ve told you that I - shit. I should’ve told you that I fuckin’ love you.” He closes his eyes, not wanting to see the rejection on your face.

Your expression shows surprise for a moment, but he doesn’t see that. “You don’t think I knew about what you had done?” You ask him softly, snorting slightly. “Tess got drunk one night, you and Tommy were on a run, and she told me.” You confess. “All about the things you had done, people you had killed. But…the world was and still is a fucked up place. Sometimes….sometimes it’s you or them.”

Joel shakes his head, “I didn’t want Tommy to have to tarnish his soul so I did the - the killin’. It’s my soul that’s blackened. I - I’m gonna ruin everyone. It’s best if I go. Tommy will take Ellie and I’ll leave you here with JJ. He doesn’t have to know about his monster of a father. I couldn’t protect Sarah so - so how could I protect Ellie or JJ?”

“Ellie is a child of this world.” You remind him softly. “Just like JJ is. They will grow up with horrors that Sarah had never imagined.” You squeeze his hands gently. “I’m so sorry about your daughter, Joel. Nothing can ever make up for that loss. I just-“ you sigh softly. “I wish that you could see that it wasn’t your fault. The government was murdering its citizens. The man who killed Sarah was the one who pulled the trigger, not you.”

Joel sniffs, glancing down at the watch on his wrist. The time stopped at the exact moment she died. He has always viewed that as his time of death, the moment his heart and soul died, but looking at you, sitting there and comforting him, he feels like his clock begins to tick again. Sarah is gone and he will always yearn for her but he has to learn to love again and you’ve always been the person to pull him back from the shadows of his tarnished soul. “I know.” He whispers, staring at you. “I- I want to give Ellie a choice. I want her to decide between me or Tommy tomorrow morning. If she chooses me, I’ll take her to Colorado and then I swear I’ll come back. I’m tired of fightin’. I’m too old. I want to be a father to JJ. I want - I want to be with you.”

“You don’t have to be with me to be JJ’s father.” You promise him, making him frown and shake his head.

“Baby, I want you, I should have never left that night. I should have told you how I felt.”

Your eyes close and you bite your lip to keep from crying, always wanting to hear those words of love from Joel and thinking it would never happen. “I know I told you that I love you.” You murmur. “That hasn’t changed.”

Joel moves fast, reaching for you to drag you into his lap, gripping the back of your head so he can press his lips to yours. “Fuck. I’ve missed you.” He murmurs, knowing that the last time he had you, he was rough. He doesn’t want to be rough tonight so he loosens his grip on you and tenderly slides his tongue into your mouth.

You whimper, melting into him almost immediately and the difference between this kiss and the last one you had shared was like night and day. The rough need has been replaced with reverence and you love it. Moaning softly, you wrap your arms around Joel’s neck and kiss him back, knowing that you will always love this man.

He slides his hands along your back, caressing you, and murmuring your name as he kisses along your jaw. Breathing you in and relishing in this moment of being alive and safe. He feels comfortable for the first time in months. His hands slide lower to squeeze your ass, groaning when you whimper.

“Joel.” You aren’t deterring him, grinding down on the bulge that you feel hardening underneath you. “I- I’m not on birth control.” You tell him quietly. There hasn’t been a need since Joel was the last man you had slept with and that was four years ago when you conceived JJ. You didn’t want to take resources from the women who had partners in town despite Maria saying it was alright. “You might not want to-”

“I want to. I - I can pull out. I know it’s not foolproof but baby, I desperately need to feel you. I want to touch you.” He murmurs, reaching for the hem of your shirt so he can pull it over your head. When your bra is exposed, he leans in to press kisses along your cleavage, surprisingly tender until he licks along your breast and shifts down to take a nipple into his mouth.

“Joel.” You whine his name also desperately as he suckles on your tit. Shifting to tangle your fingers into his hair and holding him close while your core flames with desire. “I- you’re the last- last man I’ve been with.” You confess breathlessly, whimpering when he pulls off your breast but moaning when it’s just to switch over to the other.

He is a little happy that you’re the last man he slept with. “Tess. Before she died.” He admits weakly, knowing he used Tess for solace as much as she used him despite him knowing how she felt about him. “I’m sorry baby. I - I was weak.” He confesses and slides his hands behind your back to unclasp your bra, dragging it down your arms.

“We- we weren’t together.” You gasp out, closing your eyes in pleasure at the rough, calloused hands cupping your breasts. “Fuck, Joel, please.” You beg, wanting to feel him inside you, even if he was leaving again tomorrow. Your fingers unbutton his shirt and push it off his shoulders, eager to see more of him than his cock this time.

He shrugs off his shirt after reluctantly letting go of your tits and he grabs your ass to lift you, grunting at the pain in his back, and he spins around to toss you on the bed. His hands immediately reach for the button of your jeans so he can get them off of you. “I missed you so much.” He admits, almost a whisper.

“I missed you too.” You had carried a piece of him with you of course. One that you saw every single day and looked more and more like him as the time passed, pissing you off when you think about it. Considering you carried and birthed him. You lift your hips so Joel can strip you down. “So fucking much.”

Joel pulls your jeans down and throws them across the room, immediately hooking his fingers into your panties so he can pull them down and expose your cunt to his hungry gaze. “Fuck.” He hisses, tossing the cotton panties and he grabs your thighs to push them apart. “I wanna taste you.” He declares before his tongue slides between your folds.

“Fuck!” You slap your hand over your mouth, aware that there is a teenager in the house. Wanting to make sure that she doesn’t overhear you. Not when you were getting something you never expected. Joel Miller’s tongue on your cunt. “Oh my god, baby.”

He smiles into your cunt, loving your reaction, and he slides his tongue over your clit, flicking it over and over until you are writhing. He swings his arm over your hips to keep you still, sucking your clit into his mouth, and he loves the tang of you.

Part of you wants to close your eyes and bask in the feeling of his tongue. The other part of you has you sitting up and devouring the sight of him eating your cunt. Memorizing it for when you are reduced to touching yourself again. “Fuck.” You whimper, lifting your legs onto his back and letting him do what he wants as your legs fall open even more.

He loves how pliable you are, eyes completely trusting and that punches him in the gut. The way you see past his sins and accept him. It has him desperate to make you cum. He grunts and grabs your breasts, squeezing and pinching while his tongue devours you.

You whine his name, tilting your head back before you remember you need to watch him. Loving his dark eyes focused on you. Soon enough, the familiar tension makes your hips roll down, meeting the flicks of his tongue as your orgasm gets closer and you bite your lip. “Fingers.” You beg, wanting to feel his thick fingers stretching you out.

He can’t deny you anything right now, pushing two thick digits into your pussy, he scissors them to stretch you out for his cock since it’s been so long. He sucks your clit into his mouth, wanting you to cum on his fingers.

It’s perfect. The pressure of his thick fingers curled up against that spongy wall and his mouth sucking on your clit tears you apart. Crying out, your hips buck up and your walls clench down around his fingers like a vice.

He works you through it, pulling his mouth away to keep his fingers pumping inside of you, scissoring them to stretch you out, and he withdraws them, sucking them into his mouth. “Fuck. You taste good.” He murmurs and shifts onto his knees to work on his jeans, shifting off of the bed to push them down along with his underwear. His cock bouncing as he kicks them off.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” You moan, shifting your legs apart to invite him to you. Watching as he kneels on the bed again. “Dream about you sometimes.” You confess. “Always hoped you were happy.”

“Happy.” Joel snorts, “is there such a thing in this world?” He asks softly and settles between your thighs. “Maybe…maybe one day. When I’m with you and JJ and Ellie and we are safe. Then I’ll allow myself to be happy.” He knows it’s possible he never truly feels happiness, not since losing Sarah. “I do love you though. You make my life brighter.” He grips his cock and positions himself at your entrance, slowly pushing into you.

“Jooooooel.” You moan as he fills you. You’ve replayed that one night so many times that it’s burned in your brain. Now another memory is starting to form. “Fuck.” Your legs wrap around his hips and your hands stroke his back as he sheaths himself inside your body. “I love you. You are the man I’m going to love until I die.”

Hearing you declare that has his heart pounding in his chest and he surges down to kiss your lips, smothering your moans as he pushes deep until he’s fully inside of you. “I don’t deserve that. I don’t deserve a second chance. With you…or to be a father.” He admits into your jaw, sliding his arms under you to gather you closer as he starts to move inside of you.

Instead of arguing with him, you turn and press your lips to his jaw as gently as you can. Wanting to show him how you feel as he rocks his hips slowly. “I love you, Joel.” You promise breathlessly, knowing that it was true. You would never stop. “You feel so good!”

He rocks into you, not wanting to embarrass himself with any more useless words. He’d rather show you how he feels. He caresses your back, gripping your shoulders so he can get even closer, his chest pressed against your tits.

The time passes with slow thrusts and kisses. Feeling intimate and special. Like nothing else beyond this bed exists. His cock presses up against your walls and you whimper when pleasure starts to build and shortens your breath, making you urge him to fuck you faster.

“Good girl.” He grunts when he speeds up and you take it. Deep, punishing thrusts that push you against your cervix. “Come on baby. Cum for me. Want you to cum for me.” He demands, grinds his pelvis against yours.

Now your toes curl, gasping every time he fills you up and your eyes roll back. “Fuck Joel, fuck”. You know your nails are digging into his back but you can’t do anything. “Gonna- gonna cum!” You warn him, right before your vision goes black and your body locks up in pleasure. “Joel!” You cry out, soaking his cock.

He groans when you clamp down on his cock, making him hiss your name as he buries his face into your neck. Pushing you through your orgasm and he kisses along your jaw. “Fuck. I’m gonna-” He moves fast to shift off of you, pulling out just in time to wrap his fist around his cock, pumping himself to paint your body with his hot seed. “Fuck.” He groans softly, eyes half closed as his body practically vibrates with pleasure.

“Oh godddd.” You keep your eye on his face as he cums. Watching him come apart and it’s the most gorgeous thing you’ve ever seen. Finally looking down at your stomach when he’s done to see the ropes of cum on your skin. “You pulled out this time.” You hum, swiping your finger through the cum and sucking it off your finger.

He chuckles breathlessly, “fuckin’ barely. Too goddamn tight.” He pulls your hand out of your mouth and leans down to kiss you, uncaring of his cum on your lips while his tongue languidly caresses yours, just enjoying this moment.

You hum, cupping his cheek softly. When Joel ends the kiss, you smile at him. “We should get some sleep.” You murmur. “You’re going to be up early.” You hate it, but you know he had to take Ellie to the Fireflies.

He nods, shifting off of the bed to grab his towel to clean you up and once that’s done, he pulls his boxers on and stands at the foot of your bed. “Can I spend the night here?” He asks, unsure if you want him in your room even after everything.

You pull the covers down and pat the side of the bed that you normally don’t sleep on. “Come to bed, Miller.” You murmur softly, reminded of the last time you had urged him to come to bed. “The bed is comfortable and the sheets are clean. Spend one night with me before you leave.” You beg quietly.

He nods, shifting to lay down beside you and he pulls the covers over you both.

“I swear I’m not leavin’ you because I want to. If she picks me, I’m leavin’ to give JJ a better future. A world without the fungus. I don’t want to leave.” He confesses, wishing he could just stay here in this moment forever.

Turning over, you shuffle close and force yourself into his arms. “I believe you.” You promise, laying your head on his shoulder and sighing softly when he curls his arm around you. “Just - be careful out there.” You twist your head and kiss his heart, “I know she will pick you. I would if it were me.”

He sighs, breathing you in and closing his eyes as he allows himself to relax for the first time in months. The sun seems to rise a few minutes after he falls asleep but that’s because he would never have enough time in that bed holding you. He grunts, kissing your forehead, and works on getting ready to go. He’s somber and when you wake up, he’s fully dressed. “I won’t say goodbye to JJ. I- I don’t want to upset him. Tell him I’ve gone on a trip and daddy will be back real soon.” He comes over to hover over you, cupping your cheek, “I fuckin’ love you. Don’t ever ever forget that. If I don’t come back…if I don’t make it…I want you to be happy. Promise me you’ll try and be happy.”

“I love you too Joel.” You choke out, trying not to cry as he leans down to kiss you one last time. “Come home to us.” You demand against his lips. “I don’t care about anything else, come home to us.”

Joel nods and walks out of the room, quickly leaving the house to go to the stables as you try not to break down into tears. JJ will be up soon and you don’t want him to see you upset. You know Joel will come back. He won’t stay away from his son.

#pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller smut #joel miller imagine #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller the last of us #joel miller tlou #the last of us hbo #tlou hbo #tlou series #hbo tlou spoilers

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whatsnewalycat · 1 year

Text

Psychomanteum / Chapter 8

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x F!Reader

Chapter 8: Would You Rather

Chapter Summary: You and Dieter spend the day together.

Rating: Explicit (18+ only)

Word Count: 7k+

Content / Warnings: alternating POV, talk about addiction, grief, communication problems, confrontation, piv sex, homophobia, spanish homophobic slur, infertility, automatic writing, ghostie better back off, fluffy fluffy feeeeeeelings

Notes: Chapter title from "Would You Rather" by Phoebe Bridgers. Hey so about what I said when I started this series about putting out a chapter every week... I've found that it's not very realistic for me. It doesn't usually take me more than one or two weeks to finish writing a chapter, but I'll put them out when I'm done with them! Thank you so much for understanding and for reading. I appreciate you!!! Also I got a little behind on replying to people's nice comments, and if that's you, you'll be hearing from me tomorrow most likely lol THANKS AGAAAIN!

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When you wake up to the braying of your phone’s alarm, snuggled into the heat of Dieter’s naked body, the sun hasn’t even begun to peak over the horizon. The world is still drenched in darkness. His forehead rolls against the arch of your back as you breathe, the oil from his pores slick on the shared spot. Soft puffs of his sleeping breath spread over your spine and make you tingle.

You close your eyes and find that, if you’re still enough, you can feel the steady beat of his heart echo across your skin.

The night before replays in your head. Parker’s show. Dieter’s confrontation. The way he pushed you to your breaking point. The way he made it up to you.

You wonder if he’ll bring it up again, or if he considers the point of contention to be healed. If you’ll ever get the courage to tell him that it’s not just his wandering attention that hurt you. How do you tell him that his publicized cocaine binge picks away at your brain just as much?

You wonder if this stitched up wound will just be infected by lingering doubt and unasked questions. If your vigilant throat will keep the ache locked away in your chest. If an abscess will grow and rot until it’s too late for antibiotics and it swallows you whole.

The alarm goes off again.

I have to get up.

For a moment, you consider quietly gathering your clothes and slinking out of the room. The comfort of running away and hiding where it’s safe, at a distance far, far away from him, entices you. Maybe the overall net hurt of abandoning him would outweigh that of letting him in your life again.

Then you hear him snore, his slackened lips making a boioioing noise on the exhale. You take a deep breath, your intermingled scents wafting off the stark white sheets that were dampened by sex and sweat. The tickle of his bed head against the nape of your neck.

Your chest tightens.

Maybe the overall net joy of letting him in your life again would outweigh that of abandoning him.

You wriggle around to face him, drag your fingers through his hair, and kiss his forehead. His lungs expand at the contact. A dry hum sounds from his throat. You cup his cheek and drag your thumb against the grain of the gray patch in his beard, then press your lips to the tip of his nose. At this, he hums again and smiles.

“I have to go,” you whisper.

“No,” he croaks, one eye squinting open as he frowns, “Stay here, baby.”

His deep, sleep-drenched voice tugs at your heart. You sigh, “I have to work.”

“Lemme come with,” he mumbles, his limbs waking to pull you closer.

“Do you really want to?”

He hums and nods, “When do we gotta go?”

“Like now,” you chuckle.

Dieter groans and rolls onto his back, then stretches his hands and feet as far away from his body as they’ll go. When he sits up and gets out of bed, your eyes follow, admiring the soft edges of him in the darkness.

“Want some clothes so you don’t have to put a fucking tuxedo back on?” he asks you as he hovers over his open suitcase, rifling through its contents, then adds, “You fancy motherfucker?”

Sitting up and stretching, you yawn, “I suppose.”

He tosses a pair of drawstring sweatpants and a soft t-shirt onto the bed for you, then starts tugging on clothes. The bedside lamp clicks as you twist its knob. Its light floods the room.

You wince away from the brightness and stand up out of bed, “You really don’t have to come with me if you don’t want to. You can sleep in and come over later.”

“Are you trying to get rid of me?” he smirks at you, gaze dropping to your tits for one last peak before you pull his shirt over your head.

“No,” you scoff, “I just- y’know, I don’t want to make you think you have to-”

“Trust me, sweetheart,” he threads his arms through a black hoodie, “I want to.”

You walk around the bed and approach him, linking your hands behind his neck, “If you say so.”

His puffy, dark eyes meet yours and they linger for a tender moment. He leans forward and kisses your forehead, then in a mumbles against your skin, “You’re making me breakfast and coffee though.”

“Deal,” you chuckle.

Cool autumn air wafts into the apartment through the open windows, counteracting the heat that’s been radiating from the oven all morning. The two air masses dance and swirl with the music from your stereo and the steam rising from cookies laying out on the cooling rack. Dieter is sitting at the counter across from you, sketching and keeping you company while you bake.

“Would you rather freeze to death or be burned alive?” he asks without looking up from his paper.

You tilt your head to the side and scrunch your face up towards the ceiling, tapping your index finger to your chin, then shrug, “Freeze to death.”

“It would take so long, though,” Dieter glances up at you with a furrowed brow, “Wouldn’t you rather just,” he makes a hand gesture like an explosion, “Get it over with?”

“Mmm, no, I hear the delirium from hypothermia fucking rules,” you pick up one of the cookies off the plate between you and split it in half. The soft craters and layers inside are exposed.

With a frown, he sets down his pencil and grabs a cookie. He stares at it as he considers this, but then declares, “I’d still choose fire.”

“Interesting,” you nod in acknowledgment.

Dieter bites off a chunk of the cookie, moans and nods, then takes another bite before setting it down on the counter. He wipes the crumbs off his gray t-shirt, then picks up his pencil again.

“Would you rather take a vow of celibacy or a vow of silence?” you ask, then sink your teeth into the cookie’s thin crust. It gives way to the squishy middle. You hum and wiggle your shoulders in approval.

Dieter sits up straight, then shakes his head, “Burned alive.”

“Not an option,” you chuckle.

He crosses his arms and pushes his mouth to one side, then glances up at you, “Can I break the vow?”

“No, you physically cannot break the vow.”

“Fine,” he sighs, “Vow of silence.”

“Same,” you snort, taking another bite of cookie.

“Would you rather your crush be able to read your mind or have access to your internet history?”

“I’d never subject you to this horror show,” you point to your forehead, then ponder out loud, “But, on the other hand, if you had my internet history, you’d see how many times I’ve googled your name.”

After the words leave your mouth, you wince at yourself. All the blood rushes to your cheeks.

He raises his eyebrows and leans forward expectantly. A shit-eating grin spreads across his face as he asks, “Oh yeah?”

You bite down on the bottom lip of your smile and shake your head. He props his chin up on his fists and leans even closer.

You fold over onto the counter, hiding your face. The pencil clatters against the countertop, then his barstool squeaks and groans as he stands up and makes his way around the counter.

“That’s adorable,” he chuckles as his hands snake around your waist from behind. He mumbles against your neck, “You still have to answer the question, sweetheart.”

“Oh my god,” you shake your head. His fingertips tap against your belly as he waits patiently for you to continue.

“Internet history.”

“Agreed,” he responds. His lips tickle your neck, “Really, if you can read someone’s mind, you can ask them about their internet history and get all the details.”

“Bingo.”

The oven starts beeping, so he lets you go and returns to his seat while you pull out the sheet pans and plop them onto their designated spaces on the countertop, each marked by dark green hot pads. After tossing your oven mitts down and turning off the oven, you lean over the counter towards him again, “Would you rather get rich in a way that disappoints your family or just make enough money to live?”

“Well I already do one of those things, so,” he mutters. His eyes are narrowed in concentration as he shades the humanesque figure on his paper.

You frown at him, “Really? Your family doesn’t like that you’re a famous actor?”

“Nope,” he enunciates the P sound with a loud pop that draws your eyes to his plush lips, “Pa is very traditional, machismo. You know, with his upbringing, and being a Marine and all that, he thinks what I do is…” he stops drawing and gnashes his jaw to the side, trying to find the right word, finally settling on, “Shameful.”

You hum and nod. He resumes drawing. As he talks, you study the gentle tics that pinch and stretch his face.

“According to him, acting is something that gays and women do,” Dieter’s words are tinged with spite and exasperation, “ Maricón, he’d always call me. Which is like a, uh, slur for gay people. Fucking asshole ”

Fury on his behalf flares in your veins. Your vision tinges red when you imagine his father calling him this. You try to remain calm and neutral as you ask, “Is your whole family like that?”

“Mostly, yeah. Ma is supportive, but he doesn’t like it when she talks to me,” the corner of his mouth shrugs up into his cheek, “When I visit, he and my brother don’t talk to me, really. It, um… it’s pretty fucking shitty.”

“How many siblings do you have?”

“Just my older brother, Tomás. And he’s the golden child, you know. He’s just like Pa. A colonel in the marines and very,” he beats his fist against his chest and makes an exaggerated stern face, “manly.”

You nod sympathetically and meet his gaze, “That fucking sucks. I’m sorry, Dee.”

His lips purse into a pout and he sighs, “So yeah. Rich and disappointing, it is.”

The way his eyes seem to flatten at the mention of his family squeezes your heart into a pulp. You want to hold him and absorb all the bad, like a healing stone. You want him to feel peace and belonging. You want him to see that he deserves it.

“I think it’s really great that you followed your dreams instead of letting some sad asshole dictate your happiness,” you tell him, reaching across the counter to offer your hand.

“Thanks,” he takes it and gives you a squeeze, a wistful smile creeping across his face as he sighs, “What about you? Rich and disappointing or just enough to get by?”

“Mmm, well, I’m a disappointment and barely make enough to get by,” you smirk, “So I think I’d rather be rich about it.”

“Business isn’t going well?” he questions.

“I mean,” you scrunch up your face and shrug, “It’s fine. I’m able to make it work. But I lost a lot of clients when people had to start picking up versus delivery. And Ethan drained our savings buying blow before he died.”

“He did?” Dieter frowns. His thumb smooths a circle against yours. The motion soothes the uncomfortable stretch of opening up to him.

You nod and raise an eyebrow, “Also, I don’t know if you know this or not, but being a drug dealer doesn’t really come with life insurance or a retirement plan.”

“Oh, really?” he asks, voice dripping with sarcasm. A grin spreads across his face and warms you.

“I know, it’s kind of shocking,” you roll your eyes and smirk. The playlist broadcasting over your speakers ends. Quiet settles over the two of you. It’s just his thumb grazing yours, both of you staring at the clasped hands.

“You know, I can help you-”

“Absolutely not,” you shake your head.

He tilts his head and scrunches his nose up, “Why not?”

“I’m not gonna let my…” you falter here, mouth hanging open in limbo, unable to verbalize what the next word should be.

My what , exactly?

“Boyfriend?” he finishes.

Your gaze flicks to his and you see that his dark eyes are soft and hopeful. Heat creeps up your neck, onto your cheeks. Your heart starts pounding heavy in your chest. You can’t stop the giant smile from beaming across your face, “Is… that what you are? My boyfriend?”

His thumb works faster against your hand now. He shifts in his seat with a shrug, Adam’s apple bobbing as he inquires, “Is that what you want me to be?”

Regardless of the voice in your head telling you to play it cool, you can’t get the smile to dim, or lessen the giddiness that’s bubbling in your chest. His tongue darts out across his lower lip and he mirrors the goofy ass grin on your face, dimpling his cheeks.

You stammer, “That would be, um… that would be… yeah. Yes.”

“Ok,” he beams, “You’re my girlfriend, then.”

“Ok,” you try to clamp your lips between your teeth in an attempt to smother the smile, but fail. It breaks free and lights up your face.

“Fuck, come here,” he mumbles, pushing his stool back and making his way over to you. His palms cup your cheeks as he holds you against the counter, pressing his lips to yours.

The kiss is ripe with a hot, desperate kind of want. Its urgency drips down your back and settles between your thighs. Your hands creep up the loose cotton of his t-shirt, delighting in the heat of his body on your palms. He hums, leaning hard into your touch, tongue sliding soft and wet against yours.

A moan rumbles inside your throat. His hands trace the outline of your body, fingertips ghosting along the goosebumps lacing your arms, under the hem of the t-shirt you borrowed from him, trailing across the excitable skin of your abdomen. The gentle touch leaves quivering muscles in its wake, sparks of pleasure igniting a fire inside you.

“Bedroom,” you mumble against his mouth. He pulls back and grabs your hand, squeezing your palms together like he can’t stand to part the skin-to-skin contact for even a moment. A grin breaks out across your face as you watch the way he shuffles through the kitchen, down the hall, through your bedroom door.

You turn around to close the door, and his arms wrap around your waist. His lips press into the crook of your neck, then his tongue rolls against your pulse and you whisper, “Oh my god, Dee-”

“Mmm,” he hums, “Can’t fucking get enough of you, Lua, you know that?”

His teeth catch your earlobe and you gasp, a delicious ripple of ecstasy trickles down your spine. You anchor your hands in his hair, nodding in agreement. He drags his tongue along the shell of your ear. Your knees buckle beneath you as a rush of euphoria floods your brain.

Dieter pulls you back up, the puppeteer yanking your marionette strings taught. You turn around and barrage him with hungry kisses, urging him backwards.

Each blind step the two of you take is accented by lust-drenched panting. Both of you tug at the other's clothes, ripping off shirts and pants and underwear until there’s nothing left and he’s tumbling backwards onto your bed, pulling you down after him.

You clamber on top of him, settling your hips on his. A hand lands at the nape of your neck and he pulls you in for another kiss. You whine into the feeling of his mouth against your own. The thick length of his cock parts your swollen pussy lips and grinds against you, earning a moan from your throat as the flames of pleasure lap away at your insides.

You lean back enough to bring his face into focus. Your fingers comb through his hair as you study his face, admiring how his lust-blown eyes drag across every inch of your body. He bites his bottom lip and meets your gaze.

His hands slide up your thighs, hips thrusting upwards, and he purrs, “Fuck, you’re so goddamn beautiful,” he brings one hand to your cheek and brushes the pad of his thumb against your lips, “Just fucking look at you.”

Dieter’s words are dripping with raw wonderment. He’s looking up at you like you’re some kind of divine miracle he’s been blessed to witness. Your heart throbs in your chest.

You let yourself sink into the warmth this man evokes. It's like wading into a hot spring, the way it sears your skin and soothes your aching soul. Your fingertips trace the contours of his face in an attempt to etch this moment into your long-term memory. His eyelids flutter and his lips part. A smile creeps across your face.

He drops his hands to the tops of your thighs, caressing them as he grins up at you, “What’re you smiling about?”

“You’re really goddamn beautiful, too, Dee,” you coo, eyes flicking down to his lips for a moment before meeting his gaze again. Desire saturates his features, heating the air between you, reeling you both in until your foreheads press together.

When you capture his lips in yours, he groans into the kiss. He rolls his hips, sliding his slick, twitching cock over your clit. You reach down and guide him to your entrance. His mouth gapes open, breath hitching as you sink down onto him. Gravity lowers you down, the electric stretch of him pulling a whimper from your throat.

“Holy fucking shit,” he chokes out. His digits dig into your thighs. All ten pressure points radiate a sinful ache. You moan against his lips and start rutting up and down the length of him. And, fuck, every single nerve ending he rubs along floods you with a high-frequency pleasure that makes your ears buzz.

He hums, trailing hot, wet kisses from your mouth, to your jaw, to your neck. His lips vacuum seal against your pulse and he sucks the skin between his teeth. A shudder echoes down the middle and you run your fingers through his hair, cooing, “That’s so good, baby, yes- yes, fuck, Dee I fucking love it.”

With a wet pop, his mouth departs your neck and he rumbles, “Wanna leave my mark on you-“ his teeth bite down on the round of your shoulder. The sharp sting intertwines with the sheer ecstasy of him filling your cunt over and over again, and you let out a choked sob.

“Want everyone to know you’re fucking mine,” he growls, gripping your thighs even tighter. His greedy confession vibrates between the layers of your skin, “Aren’t you, Lua?”

You whimper and nod, swallowing hard, eyes fluttering shut as he starts to fuck up into you. His cock drags back and forth over something so fucking delicious, it overrides your brain, and all you can think is more of that, more, more. Your fucking heart races and you break out in a sweat.

“Tell me, baby,” his hands slide to your hips, where he tightens his grasp, “Tell me you’re mine.”

“I’m yours, Dee,” you mewl, “All fucking yours- oh my fucking god-”

“I’m yours, too, you know that?” he pants, “You know how much I fucking care about you?”

“Yes-” the word come out in a choked sob, and you whimper, “Fuck, that is so good, don’t fucking stop, baby.”

You fold over and press your lips to his, moaning into the kiss. Your hands roam to the sides of his face, thumbs grazing the patchy facial hair on his cheeks as you rest your sweaty forehead on his and take his cock.

“Your pussy is fucking perfect, Lua” he husks, voice bouncing with each thrust, “Like fucking heroin, I swear to fucking god-”

“God I fucking love it when you talk dirty to me,” you growl, then nuzzle against his neck, catching his salty skin between your teeth and sucking on it.

He moans and bucks his hips up into you. A muffled cry sounds from your throat as the shock wave of impact compounds on the already mounting pleasure and he starts panting, “Yeah? You fucking love that, baby? You like when I cram my fat cock in that sweet pussy then tell you how good it fucking feels? Hmm?”

Your wrecked sob is buried against his neck, the edges of your mind peeling up as the ecstasy at your center starts to throb and grow. You release his neck and hover above his mouth as you moan through gritted teeth, “Yes, I fucking love it, don’t stop-”

“I wouldn’t fucking dare. Won’t stop 'til I feel that tight cunt squeeze the ever loving fuck out of me-“

A gasp expands your lungs as a wave of pleasure starts to swell, “Oh- oh, holy shit- ”

“Yes- oh my god- that’s it, baby- there we go,“ Dieter purrs, driving into you at a maddening pace, “Fuck yes, that’s it.”

Ecstasy crashes down on you, and your whole body quivers under its impact, pulling a strangled noise from your throat. He moans and his hands fly to your face to pull you in for a needy kiss, snapping his hips against yours, gasping against your mouth as he finds his release.

Your bodies slow their writhing and go slack. All those tingling muscles relax. You rest your head on his chest and melt into a puddle on top of him, eyes drifting closed as a satisfied smile creeps across your face. Dieter hums and lays one hand on the small of your back while the other pets your hair.

In the noise’s inflection, you can hear him smiling, too.

The thud of his heartbeat against your cheek, the warmth of his skin flush on yours, the motion of his palm rubbing into the base of your spine, it leaves you weightless and euphoric.

Your bones buzz with this sensation that you can’t quite put your finger on.

Like when you were a kid biking around the deserted streets of your hometown on a summer night. Wind blowing through your hair, cooling your sticky, sweat-drenched skin. Laughing as you and your friends took turns trying to navigate your bikes without touching the handlebars. When time was meaningless because all that existed was the moment you were living.

It’s on the tip of your tongue, fluttering in your chest in an attempt to make itself known.

Dieter’s lips press against your forehead and he mumbles, “I could stay here forever.”

It hits you then. That feeling like sunshine and freedom and living.

Happiness.

Dieter is hunched over his sketchbook, eyes flicking up to the closed door that always seems to steep his soul in ice. The yellow, chewed-up pencil pinched between his fingers seems to move on instinct, skipping over his consciousness completely as the graphite tip glides across the buttery paper.

You’re only a few paces behind him, handing off a box of cannabis-laced apple cider donuts to a client, but the melodic tune of your chit chat seems miles away.

A dark wall. An antique mirror. A pallid, silver-haired man inside the mirror, staring at him with vacant eyes.

The door to your apartment shuts. A metallic thunk from the deadbolt jolts him out of his trance. As he studies the illustration made in his fugue state, his spine stiffens. He chucks the pencil across the counter and pushes the stool out behind him to stand.

Of course, he recognizes Ethan.

Not just from the flashes of his face that grip Dieter’s heart like a hawk’s talons, but from that hazy period between winning an Oscar and COVID-19 lockdown.

The tall, angular man who arrived at a rooftop party in Greenwich Village with armfuls of edibles that blew Dieter’s mind. Ethan was only there for a short time, but strangely enough, meeting him is one of the only remaining memories Dieter has from that night.

He approached Dieter, who was shoveling a pot brownie in his face over a garbage can, with a disarming smile as he pointed to the dessert, “Good, right?”

Dieter hummed and nodded, trying to quickly chew a mouthful in order to respond.

“No worries, man, sorry for sneaking up on ya while you’re eating,” he chuckled and waved one hand in a dismissive gesture, then pinched a joint between his full lips. The orange flame of the lighter illuminated his face as he lit it.

By this time, Dieter was able to swallow the brownie and clear his throat, wiping his chocolate-tinged fingertips on his dress pants before extending his hand, “Dieter Bravo.”

“Ethan,” he gave Dieter’s hand a firm shake, then held the joint out to him in offering.

Dieter accepted it, taking a few puffs as Ethan gave a sharp nod towards the party’s epicenter, all lit up and crowded, “Having fun?”

His eyes scanned the party, noting how nobody seemed to be dancing, and how everyone kept looking at their phones, as if waiting for another Saturday night party option. He shrugged and passed the joint back, “Something to do.”

“Fuck, dude, that bad?” Ethan laughed, the low notes coming out short little bursts from his belly. He took a puff off the joint and passed it to Dieter, “You’re an actor, right?”

“Yeah,” Dieter responded as he pinched the joint between his lips and inhaled.

“I like your shit, man,” Ethan grinned and took the joint back.

“Thanks,” he smiled and nodded in acknowledgement, then gestured to the display of edibles, “I like your shit, too. How is it… fudgy and crispy?”

“Fuckin’ a, right? My girl bakes everything, she’s a fuckin’ genius at that shit,” Ethan shook his head and grinned.

“Amazing,” Dieter nodded.

“So tell me-“ Ethan stopped to inhale, giving Dieter a moment to brace for whatever question the man was loading. On the exhale, he asked, “What’s your favorite shape?”

Dieter’s head jerked back and he laughed, “Favorite shape?”

“Weren’t expecting that one, were ya?” a shit-eating grin spread across Ethan’s face and he passed the joint.

“Well, no,” Dieter stammered and took a hit, then scratched his chin and shrugged, “but obviously it’s a triangle.”

“ Obviously , he says,” Ethan laughed and slapped his own knee, “That’s good shit. Triangles are fucking cool.”

“They are fucking cool, aren’t they?” Dieter chuckled and passed the joint.

Ethan took one more hit, then dropped it on the cement paver of the rooftop patio and smashed it with the toe of his shoe, “Listen man, I gotta dip, but if you ever wanna order anything, text me or gimme a call. I can deliver to most places within city limits.”

He held out a white business card that was completely blank except for a ten digit phone number handwritten in black ink. Dieter took it from him and nodded, “Right on.”

“Nice talkin’ to ya,” he gave a quick wave and turned to go.

“Wait-“ Dieter called out, then when Ethan turned around, he asked, “What’s your favorite shape?”

“Circle, hands down,” he answered.

Dieter met with Ethan every once in a while after this to buy edibles. He admired how easy-going the man was, and of course, the quality of the product. He never put much thought into the encounters, because at the time, they were just drug deals.

But now, as Dieter finds his infatuation with you growing wider as each second passes, he has been trying to remember more about your late husband. Any kind of clue to explain how the Ethan he met on that rooftop ended up trying to end both your lives.

There’s something lingering at the edge of his memory, fuzzy and out-of-focus. It weaves its way between the tendons in his neck and pulls them tight.

“Are you ok?” you come up from behind him and hesitantly rest your hand on his bicep.

When he glances over at you, you’re searching his face, eyes gleaming with concern. His shoulders slacken and he shakes his head, confessing, “I don’t know what the fuck just happened to me.”

“What do you mean?” you frown.

Dieter’s eyes dart between your face and the page. His throat feels tight when he swallows, then clears his throat, “I don’t know how to explain it. I was drawing, but I was totally fucking zoned out, and-”

Your gaze falls to his open sketchbook. You drop your hand loose to your side and take a step towards it. He sees your whole body go rigid as you study it.

“Did… did you go in that room?” you question, spinning around to face him. His stomach twists in a knot when he recognizes the fear in your eyes.

He stammers, “N-no, I wouldn’t…”

Your body relaxes as you process this information, brow furrowing as you sigh, “No, I know you wouldn’t.”

His nerve endings feel raw and exposed, skin crawling as the silence creeps into his ears like nails on a chalkboard.

“Is that what it looks like?” Dieter gestures to his sketchbook, then runs a hand through his hair.

You nod and fiddle with the drawstring of his pajama pants that you’re still wearing.

“I swear, Lua, I don’t know what happened, it was fucking weird,” he runs a hand down his face and shakes his head, “I- I didn’t mean to scare you or anything.”

“No, I know,” you step towards him, hooking your hands at the back of his neck, “I’m sorry.”

Dieter wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you closer, eyes flicking to the doorway he despises, then back to your face, “No need to apologize, doll.”

Your eyebrows press together, gaze unblinking. One of your thumbs starts oscillating against the skin at the nape of his neck. The comfort of your embrace seeps into his bloodstream, sedating his adrenaline-fueled heart. His eyes blink shut and he takes a deep breath as his muscles start to slacken.

“Do… Do you need to leave?” you ask him quietly.

His eyes snap open and meet yours, brow furrowing as he frowns, “I’m not leaving you.”

A smile stretches across your lips and your face gets all flushed, then you stammer “I- I just mean- um, I don’t want you to feel like you have to be here-“

“Mmm, no, see,” Dieter smirks and brushes his thumb against your cheek, “We have plans for a shitty movie marathon and I fully intend on keeping that date.”

“Ok, but-”

“I think your boy just needs to mind his goddamn manners,” Dieter raises an eyebrow and nods towards the spare bedroom.

You tilt your head and frown thoughtfully, “Have you asked him to leave you alone?”

“Does- does that work?”

“I dunno, maybe? Maybe he doesn’t, like,” you scrunch your nose up and shrug, “Know ghost etiquette?”

He laughs and shakes his head, “Ghost etiquette?”

“I don’t fucking know!” you start laughing from your belly, head falling back towards the ceiling as the melody fills his heart to the brim. He just fucking beams at you as you bring your gaze back to his and smile, “I don’t know, I’m just…” your smile starts to fade and your eyes drop to the floor, “I’m sorry he’s fucking with you.”

He presses his forehead against yours and mumbles, “I’m fine, sweetheart, don’t worry.”

When the term of endearment rolls from his lips, it doesn’t taste like it has hundreds of times before. It’s gooey and saccharine, melting across his tongue like those chocolates that come in shiny red heart-shaped boxes.

You hum, fingers tangling in his hair as you pull him in for a kiss. Your lips are soft and warm, moving leisurely against his. And, fuck, this makes it all worth it. The nights he spent wide awake, aching with want, tortured by the thought of someone else touching you. Flying across the country to track you down and argue with you in the street. Even dealing with the intrusions from your dead husband.

When you pull back to meet his eyes, your hands cup his cheeks, thumbs grazing against his facial hair, “That was my last customer. Do you wanna run some errands with me?”

“Would you rather be abducted by aliens or stranded at sea?” Dieter asks. Your head is cradled by his belly, body stretched out across the grass, perpendicular to his.

You’re holding a blood red leaf above your head with one hand while the other is clasped warm against his. The sun hovers in the cloudless sky off to the west, heating him to comfort despite the crisp air on his face and the cool earth beneath his back. There’s a pile of plastic bags next to him, the results of this afternoon’s supply run. The two of you couldn’t resist stopping at the park across from your apartment to bask in the sun before starting on dinner.

“Abducted, hands down,” you answer, closing one eye as you move the leaf close to your face, then further away, “You?”

“Beam me up, baby.”

“Would you rather be trapped in a room with one million tarantulas for ten minutes or be forced to eat ten tarantulas in ten minutes?”

“Are they alive or dead?”

“Alive, obviously,” you drop your extended arm to your side and look over at him.

“Fuck that,” he groans, “Do I have to?”

You raise an eyebrow at him and smirk, “Them’s the rules.”

“Shit, I guess… I guess trap me in the room and hope one of them puts me out of my misery quickly,” he responds, stomach churning at the thought of eight million furry legs crawling around him.

“That’s a good point,” you frown, then look back up at the sky, “Same.”

“Would you rather never have kids, or have triplets that have to be in the same room as you until they turn 18?”

As soon as the question leaves his lips, his stomach flips with regret. Just one second too late, he remembers you telling him that you’re infertile. His body tenses as he tries to figure out how to shove his foot in his mouth at this angle.

You release a heavy sigh, then shake your head, “I, um…”

“I’m- fuck, I’m sorry,” he cranes his neck to look at you, “I’m an ass, I completely-”

“No, it’s ok,” you reassure him, although your somber tone implies that it is not , in fact, ok. With a shrug, you answer, “I’ve always wanted kids. Gimme the Velcro babies.”

The muscles in his throat tighten as he contemplates what to say next, smoothing a circle against the back of your hand with his thumb.

Dieter considers answering his “would you rather” question, but it morphs into “would you rather Lua think you don’t want kids when she does, or think you want kids when she can’t bear them?”

It’s more impossible than the tarantula question.

He also considers asking why you can’t have children. Not that the answer would affect his feelings for you. It’s just something that, like every other part of you, sits at the back of his brain, piquing his curiosity. He has this burning desire to unfold you and lay you flat, to hear all your stories ad nauseam, to memorize every single line of your verbal autobiography. He wants to know you better than he knows himself.

Instead of letting either of these things leave his mouth, or worse yet, changing the subject, Dieter waits. He stays quiet, but present, thumb grazing against your hand to reassure you that he’s there.

“I was a stepmom, though,” you say eventually, glancing up at him, “Ethan had two kids with his ex-wife.”

“Oh yeah? Do you still get to see them?”

“No,” you chuckle, “Miri didn’t really like Ethan having them, so I didn’t see them much. I think I spent more time with them when we were sitting shiva than the five years Ethan and I were together.”

Dieter hums in acknowledgment, then asks, “Why didn’t she like him having them?”

“What, besides our very legal business dealings?” you snort. After a beat of silence, you roll on your side to face him, “That’s… not true, actually. She doesn’t know about that.”

He studies your thoughtful expression. You tuck your interlaced hands between your cheek and his belly and avert your gaze, then start picking at individual blades of grass from the earth with your free hand, “Ethan was… an addict. She put up with a lot of shit before they split. And after they split, before we were together, there was a night where he got fucked up and left the kids at his apartment. They were only 4 and 8. Miri came to get them the next afternoon and they were still there alone. He said he completely forgot about them. They were all pretty fucked up about it.”

“Holy shit,” Dieter breathes.

“I know, it’s so fucked,” you shake your head, “So yeah, I get it. I never held that against her or anything. She was just trying to protect her kids.”

You glance up at him, surveying his face as he listens intently, then return your attention to ripping blades of grass from their roots, “When we got engaged, she tried to warn me. But I didn’t listen. I thought I knew him better. I did lines with him occasionally, and he didn’t go off the deep end like that, so I thought he changed. Or like it was different because he was with me, like I cured him or something,” you scoff and roll your eyes, “So dumb.”

“It’s not dumb,” Dieter frowns and squeezes your hand, “People change.”

You crinkle your nose and go silent.

A deep ache hollows out his chest. In that quiet moment, as he watches your face sag with skepticism, he vows to make a true believer out of you.

“Hey,” he mumbles.

Your eyes flick to his. Electricity trickles down his spine and capsizes his stomach.

“Thank you for sharing with me.”

A smile stretches across your face and you nuzzle against his hand, “You’re welcome, love.”

He licks his lips, takes a deep breath, then says, “And, um, thank you… for giving me another chance.”

You nod and hum in acknowledgment, but your smile falters a little as you search his face. Hurt still lingers in the background of your features. His guts twist when he recognizes it.

“Sleeping with Katie was… fuck, I regret it every goddamn day.”

“Dee, it’s ok,” you mutter, gaze dropping to the grass. You pinch a few at a time now, ripping them away, their corpses growing into a small, green haystack.

“ No , it’s not,” he asserts, and your eyes flit to his again as he spouts off, “You know why? Because I knew how I felt about you, and I did it anyway. And then I fucking-”

“Dieter-” you sit up and fold your legs under your body, releasing his hand to place a palm on his sternum.

He follows suit, pushing off the cool earth to cross his legs and lean close to you, “No, Lua, we have to clear the air. Otherwise it’ll keep fucking lingering and eating away at us.”

You think about this for a moment, brow furrowed as you pluck a few more blades of grass. Then you look up and meet his eyes, nodding, “Ok.”

“Ok,” he grins and straightens his spine, then beckons you closer, rumbling, “C’mere, beautiful.”

You crawl into his lap, wrapping your legs around him and linking your hands behind his neck. He can smell the notes of vanilla and macadamia wafting off your skin and hair, see the conflict of this intimate kind of confrontation creasing your forehead.

His fingers grip your sides gently and he sighs, “I fucked up. I went on a fucking bender. It was embarrassing, how I acted. I’m…” he shakes his head and meets your eyes as his face slackens, “Fuck, so ashamed. And I didn’t know-”

“It’s ok, love,” you assure him, pressing your forehead to his.

“But that’s what it was with Ethan, wasn’t it? Coke?”

You nod.

He slides his hands around your waist, cradling your spine in his interlaced hands, pulling you closer as he swears, “I promise that’s the last time.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” you mumble.

The impact of your statement makes him wince.

“Listen, I know you don’t believe me. And that’s fine, Lua, it really is,” he pulls back to meet your eyes again, “I mean it, though.”

You search his face, then nod, “Ok.”

The two of you stay here like this, gaze locked, steeped in the heat of vulnerability. Dieter relishes the way this invisible tether between your soul and his seems to thicken and pull taut. Adoration swells his heart until his chest aches at the excess luggage.

“I, um…” you swallow hard, take a deep breath, then tell him quietly, “I’m sorry for icing you out.”

He hums in acknowledgment, pulling you closer until your bellies are pressed together.

You nuzzle into the crook of his neck and sigh against his skin, “I felt so… I don’t know, rejected? Like… embarrassed that I felt something when you didn’t.”

Dieter rests his cheek on your head and his eyelids flutter closed as he listens to you.

“It fucking hurt. And that scared the shit out of me,” you confess, your voice shaky and damp, “I didn’t think…” you sniffle and wriggle your face against the collar of his jacket, “I didn’t think I would feel like this again. Especially so soon.”

His arms squeeze around you, hugging you as he admits, “I didn’t think I would either.”

In the distance, he hears geese honking in their flock, flying south for the winter. A brisk gust of air rustles the plastic bags laying on the ground a few feet away. They’re filled with apples, snacks for tonight, dry ingredients that needed restocking, and deli sandwiches. His stomach rumbles and a chill raises goosebumps across his skin.

As if you can read his mind, you mumble, “I’m fucking freezing. Let’s go make some soup.”

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