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lillaydee · 7 days ago

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I'm Right Here Part 8

BFF!Joel Miller / F Reader

Sometimes the person we've been looking for has been right there all along.

@copperhalfcent, @demonsasss, @bergamote-catsandbooks, @peelieblue @liciafonseca @ultra-nina-bella @joelmillerpascal @kirsteng42 @heartpatch @capnjaket

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WARNINGS: BFF Joel Miller, Protective Joel (The Last of Us), Joel is Bad at Feelings (The Last of Us), Good Parent Joel (The Last of Us), Angst, Love Triangles, Miscommunication, Past Child Abuse, Alternate Universe - No Cordyceps Outbreak (The Last of Us), Joel Needs a Hug (The Last of Us), Joel is a Clueless Idiot, Jealousy, Minor Character Death, Implied/Referenced/Supposed Sexual Assault

SERIES MASTER LIST

Part 7

You stood outside your late aunt Esther’s old house, waiting patiently for the lawyer to arrive. Even after all these years, you were still extremely uncomfortable standing there, looking at the house as it loomed over you, feeling like you were a teenager again. You had always felt small when you see the house, even when you were living there. It had been 20 years since you and Eddie left that house, and you still remembered what it felt like every time you stood there waiting for your aunt to open the door for you. Seven years you and Eddie lived there, she never trusted you with your own set of keys, and you had to wait for her good graces to open the door for you every single time you came back. Your eyes landed on the now broken and rusted metal bench you had to sit on, sometimes sleep on every time she locked you out because you were a few minutes late, waiting for Eddie to return from his shift at whatever job he was doing at the time so you could go in when she opened the door for him.

Seven years you did the housework for her. Seven years Eddie kept the yard for her. The day you left was the last time you saw her. She never took interest in your lives since. She didn’t even go to Eddie’s funeral. Didn’t call, didn’t initiate any form of contact with either of you.

Which was why you were so shocked when her lawyer called and told you she had left you the house when she passed. You wondered why she was being so generous. She could have donated the house, she could have willed it to a friend, but no, she left it to the niece she kept reminding everyone she didn’t want responsibility for throughout the seven years she had custody of you and your brother.

But when you saw the state of the house from the pictures the lawyer sent you, you understood why. She died a lonely, bitter, penniless hoarder. The house was shockingly neglected. Once the most handsome house on the street it now looked like a junkyard, the interior filled with garbage she had collected over the years. It was as if she was giving you the middle finger from the grave. Clean this, unwanted niece.

You were still her maid, as far as she was concerned.

So you made an arrangement with your boss. You would work with the Austin office for a few months while you settled the house, be back in Bangkok once you were done. Olivia had rented an Airbnb for you for the stay, but you would be staying in a hotel for the first ten days or so due to the lack of availability.

It was strange, coming back to Austin. The city had changed so much, yet this town somehow felt the same. You felt like a young woman again here. Like someone who didn’t belong again. You just wanted to get it over with and go back to your life in Bangkok.

You didn’t want to leave. You made sure to tell Eric and Benny that the day they sent you to the airport. You didn’t tell anyone you accepted the overseas assignment. You didn’t want anyone changing your mind. You didn’t want anyone trying to get you to stay. So you told Eric and Benny you needed help moving and then directed them to the airport before telling them the truth.

None of them understood why you wanted to leave at first. Benny practically got on his knees begging you to stay. He was worried how Joel was going to take your leaving. You coaxed him, telling him you would be gone a few months at the most, only telling Eric the truth once you had left.

The truth was you couldn’t stay. You couldn’t look at Joel without feeling hurt. Hurt that he would think so low of you, even after knowing you all those years. Hurt that he lashed out at you instead of Jen. Hurt that he chose to leave you alone in the house he begged you to stay at when all you wanted to do was be with him, support him and love him.

He didn’t call you at all after he left. Didn’t contact you in any way. He just disappeared. You received a bouquet of daisies when you got the job, a card saying ‘congratulations’ amongst the flowers, but there was nothing else. You knew it was from him, but the lack of personalization on the card hurt you.

You had initially opted to stay in Austin, thinking that things would settle once the law was involved. That you and Joel would find your way to each other again. That you could begin again. Get to know each other again. You even decided to move in with Olivia for a while, seeing as you wouldn’t really be able to afford to rent an entire house to yourself with your starting salary. It was perfect. Her roommate was getting married, you would move in to the vacated room.

But then Jen emailed you, begging you once more to leave so she and Joel could have a real chance at raising the child together.

You sneered at her delusion, but that email brought a thought to your mind.

What if the child was real? Could you do it? Could you raise an innocent child borne out of such an atrocious act with a man so traumatized he was considering murder and suicide to get out of that life? A man so affected he accused you of wanting to do that same, inconceivable act to him? So shaken he couldn’t look at you without remembering what happened? Without thinking of the night Jen told him the dreadful news?

And what if he couldn’t move on from this? What if this was the man he would remain to be forever? Could you take being his punching bag for the rest of your life? And if you never got back together, could you stand seeing him around town? Could you watch him move on with someone who was not you? Could he watch you move on with someone who was not him? Were the two of you supposed to be single forever? Could the two of you just pass each other by and not acknowledge the great friendship you once had? What you almost became? Were you to never see his friends and family again out of respect for him and his trauma? Could you stay if that were to happen?

No, you couldn’t. And from the events that happened those few weeks, you knew he couldn’t have you stay either. Not unless he agreed to try. But he was refusing help. Refusing to report Jen. Refusing to talk to you about it without raising his voice. Refusing to see someone, a therapist, a doctor, a friend, or anyone at all about it.

Just… no.

So you decided to leave. Was it the best decision you’d ever made? No, not really. But was it the decision you needed to make? Yes, it was. You couldn’t afford to take a chance without much certainty. You could always come back if things worked out. But you couldn’t stay and only leave once or if things got worse. It wasn’t worth the heartache. Not to you.

So you left. As predicted, everyone tried to coax you to come back. You had changed your number, but they had all emailed you, found a way to contact you. Everyone, that is, except him.

That first month, he got worse, apparently. Started drinking, taking pills just to sleep. Then, Jen reappeared in his life, just as the court date was approaching. Hounding him, begging him, threatening him. He spiralled. Tommy found him unconscious, foaming at the mouth one morning, getting him to the ER just in time. Tommy called you then, and when you asked to speak to him, he told Tommy to “Tell that bitch to leave him alone.” You heard Tommy tell him it was you, not Jen, and he doubled down, telling Tommy all women were the same. Can’t trust them worth a shit. You hung up then.

The family stopped asking you to give him a chance a week after that. He told them what he had said to you, and that seemed to hammer in the message home that you would be better off without him in your life. They did, however, beg you to stay in touch with them, and you did, with the condition that none of them ever mention Joel to you ever again.

And so it went. You remained in touch. More so with Eric and Olivia, and by extension Benny and Will. You, Anita and Aunt Tina texted every now and again, Jake and Tommy joining in when they could. Birthday and holiday greetings every year. Eric, Benny, Will, Olivia all came to visit at one point or another, you even flew out for holidays with them, meeting them in countries in between.

Joel was no longer in your life. You didn’t even ask what happened with him and Jen. You wanted to, at first, but you knew you would be crushed either way. If the child was real and he remained the man he was then, you would be crushed. If the child was not real and it was all just a temporary drama that led to all the decisions made, effectively destroying the beginnings of a life you hoped to have with him, you would be crushed. So why bother?

You did know, though, that he was never the same again. The funny, joker of a man Joel Miller was, was gone. Died the day Jen walked into the living room announcing her pregnancy and never returned.

And so life went by. For 15 years, until you returned to Austin to settle the hoarded estate left to you by your absent aunt, the one family member you had left, not that she was ever that present anyway.

You finished your run a little bit later in the evening than you’d like, the jetlag still affecting you. Not to mention you hadn’t run in the evening in forever. The sun was not helping. You just needed the run to get the jitters of sorting the fucking mess your supposed aunt left you out of your person, tire yourself, get an early dinner, get to bed as soon as you could, start early the next day, get on Austin time. There was much to do. The house needed to be cleaned out. You had contacted several cleaning services for quotes. The house also needed repairs. A lot of repairs. At least you thought so. You couldn’t even enter the place without fearing it would endanger your life. So that would need to be dealt with later. And then you would put the house on the market and go back to your life in Bangkok.

The park was full of teenagers. Was there a school around here? You didn’t recall there to be one back when you lived here, but hey, it’s been 15 years. You crossed the street to start walking back to the hotel, taking your other air pod out of the case for the walk as you did.

Before you could do that, something orange trotted along out of the drains, mewling as it made its’ way onto the street. A kitten. Alone, wobbly, looking so confused your heart melted. A teenage girl rushed past you, squealing at the kitten, stopping in the middle of the street, scooping the little orange furball into her hands.

A truck came barrelling out of nowhere, loud music blaring out of its’ speakers, the driver looking as if he was staring at something in his hands rather than the road. The teenager froze, the tiny kitten in her hand.

You rushed over to her and wrapped your arms around her, pushing her out of the way, the momentum and whizz from the truck whooshing past practically pulling you along the road for a good few yards. You could feel your clothing scrape and burn onto your skin as you came to a stop, a searing pain enveloping you. You continued holding her until you no longer feel the truck being near, lifting your head slightly, asking her if she was okay. You got up, checking her for injuries, just as a small crowd of people came running towards the two of you. She got up, the kitten still in her hand, squirming uncontrollably, trying to get away from the havoc that was the situation. She passed the kitten on to another teenager, telling you her wrist hurt. You were about to bend over to check her wrist when you realized you couldn’t move your left hand.

The teenagers around you started murmuring, pointing at your shoulder. A man came running up to you, asking you if you were okay. You looked at your own shoulder, realizing that you had dislocated it, yet again.

“I think I dislocated my shoulder. Again,” you muttered, surrender in your voice. The man raised his eyebrow at you, before asking if you feel pain anywhere else, could you move? Stand? Walk? You told him you were fine, except for the shoulder, maybe a few scrapes and cuts. He checked on the teenager, who told him about her wrist, and he told the surrounding teenagers to get on the bus, helping you to sit on the sidewalk.

“Stay with her,” he told the teenager, “I’m gonna get my truck, take you two to the ER,” waiting for the teenager’s response before running off.

You laid there on the small bed in the much too familiar ER, breathing in slow, deep breaths, trying to get your mind to think of anything but the searing, throbbing pain in your shoulder. This was bad. You knew this was bad before they brought you to the hospital. You knew this was bad before they took you up for an x-ray an hour ago. This was not the simple dislocation you’d suffered through sporadically throughout the years since you were six. This was something more serious. Your body shivered and trembled from the pain, elevating it, making it impossible to ignore. Your heart was beating uncomfortably fast, your head was spinning. Your whole body felt cold and hot at the same time, the pain unbearable.

The wait for the results seemed to take forever. You later found out it was an hour. But to you, it might as well had been an entire day. The man who took you and the teenage girl to the ER reappeared from behind the curtains after a quick ‘knock-knock’. He had stayed with the teenager when you got taken for treatment.

“How is she? Is she okay?” you asked him, anxious to know, but at the same time trying to do anything other than think of the pain you were in.

“She sprained her wrist. She’s okay otherwise. How are you feeling?” he looked worried, his body language anxious, as if he was trying to find a way to comfort you but feared touching you in any way would break you.

“Do you know her?” you distracted him, not wanting to talk about your pain.

“She’s one of my students. We were on a school trip. Her parents are on their way. My colleague is staying with her now.”

Worry and guilt must have been clear on your features, and he must have noticed. “Hey,” he said, quickly sitting down on your good side, “You didn’t do anything wrong. You saved her life.”

“She’s still injured,” you murmured.

“She would have suffered a lot more than a sprained wrist if you hadn’t stepped in,” he coaxed, wiping the tear that fell off your eye without you realizing it. “You saved my life too, if I’m being honest. I don’t even want to imagine what her father would do to me if something worse happened to her.”

That little joke produced a small smile out of you.

“There you are,” he said, smiling himself, wiping the rest of your tears with his fingers. “Much better.”

That earned him another smile from you. Your body involuntarily trembled from the sudden searing pain you felt when you tried to turn towards him.

“No, stay still,” he said, getting up to wrap the blanket around you tighter. “Are you from here?”

You nodded. “I moved away for work. Just back to settle some family thing. A few months. I haven’t been back in 15 years.”

He whistled, “Long time,” he said.

“What about you?”

“Moved here for work. A few months now. I’m just here temporarily. Just until the art teacher comes back. She’s on leave for a year.”

“You move around a lot like that? Teaching the masses where you’re needed?”

He smiled, nodding, “You can say that.”

You smiled back at him. There was something about this man. He made you feel calm. He even looked sort of familiar, but you couldn’t really place where you had seen him before. Then again, he was new in town, and so were you, relatively speaking. You put that thought at the back of your head and just enjoyed his company.

The curtain opened and the young doctor who took you in for an x-ray came in with an older doctor.

“I’ll just be outside okay? Give you some privacy,” the teacher said, starting to stand up.

“No, please stay. I don’t want to be alone,” you begged before you could stop yourself. You were scared. Alone. And you knew, you just knew something was wrong, even more so than usual. You wanted to have someone there with you, and this teacher man was the most familiar of the three faces in front of you. “I hope that’s okay,” you added, hoping he wouldn’t find you creepy.

“Of course,” he said, sitting back down.

“Well, Miss Stevens, the bad news is I’m afraid your x-ray showed something a bit more serious. Your clavicle is broken, so you’re gonna need surgery. But the good news is we could fix that shoulder of yours for good now, since we’re already going in,” the older doctor told you.

The teacher man placed his hand on your good hand, squeezing it a little. You simply nodded, surrendering to the situation. Fuck, this was gonna be a problem. How were you supposed to settle what you needed to settle in time? Shit. The doctors asked if you had any questions before they begin processing your check in, only leaving once they answered them.

“You okay?” the teacher man asked, seeing the troubled look on your face.

“Yeah�� I just… I have some things to settle. And I need my stuff. I need to call my friend,” you told him, looking around for your phone. He took it from the plastic bag next to your bed and gave it to you, waiting as you dialled Olivia’s number.

“I’m Mike, by the way,” he told you once you hung up, “Michael Parks.”

“Daisy. Stevens. I’d shake your hand but even speaking hurts right now,” you told him, cringing a little from a sudden pang of pain you felt as you adjusted yourself to place the phone next to your pillow.

“You just relax. It’s all good. You have someone to take care of you?”

You nodded.

“Mr. Parks?” a young girl’s voice came from outside the curtain.

“Yeah.”

The teenage girl you rescued appeared from behind the curtain, her left wrist bandaged. She tentatively approached you, looking so apologetic your heart clenched.

“Are you going to be okay?” she asked, looking as if she was about to cry.

“Yeah, I’m fine. How’s your wrist?” you asked her.

She lifted her bandaged arm and told you she’ll live.

“I’m so sorry you got injured to save me,” she pleaded.

“Hey, you saved a kitty, I saved you. It’s all good,” you assured her. “Where is that kitty by the way?”

“My friend took it home for now. I’m gonna ask my Dad if I can keep it. It’s so cute,” she said, laughing a little.

“It really is,” you agreed.

“They said I can go,” she told you and Mike. “But I just wanted to thank you for saving me. Is it okay if my parents come in here and thank you too?”

“They don’t need to,” you said, but she insisted.

“Please? They were so worried. I don’t know what would’ve happened to me if you hadn’t pushed me away. And they know you’re injured because of me,” she really was about to cry this time, seeming desperate for you to let her parents thank you.

You took pity on her and nodded. She seemed relieved, peeking her head out of the curtain to call them.

A woman about your age came in, looking worried. Her worry seemed exacerbated when she saw your shoulder in a sling, the cuts on your face, the scrapes on your arms and legs.

“Oh God,” she whispered. “I am so sorry. Are you okay?”

“She has to have surgery on her shoulder,” Mike told her mother. The woman clamped her hand on her mouth.

“I’m so sorry you got so hurt. Thank you so much for saving my daughter. They told me it would have been so bad if you didn’t. Thank you so much!” she said.

“You’re more than welcome,” you told her, “Your daughter is a lovely young woman. It’s my pleasure.”

“Oh, but you’re hurt so badly,” she said, peeking outside the curtain, waving someone over. “Did you introduce yourself properly?” she asked her daughter.

“Well, she was in so much pain,” the teenager said, “We didn’t think of it.”

“That’s true,” Mike assured her. “We were all a bit preoccupied. I myself had just introduced myself to her.”

“Where are our manners, I’m Annie, this is my daughter Sarah,” she said. The teenager gave you a little wave.

A man walked in through the curtain. Your insides turned cold. He stopped as soon as he saw you, his worried face turned into one of shock and disbelief.

“And this is my husband Joel.”

Part 9

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller x reader #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller x you #tlou fanfiction #BFF!Joel Miller

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joelmillerpascal · 3 months ago

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Your Valentine 💝

summary: Pedro has been acting strange, but he gives you a surprise for Valentines Day which leads you to spend the night at his apartment.

P.S. I am no good at summaries.

warnings: Pedro acts strange, unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), (innocence kink, pet names, fluff.

WC: 2301

February 2024

You and Pedro have been seeing each other for about 6 months now. The both of you have been keeping it a secret because of his publicity and because you are simply new to the life Pedro lives, not even your family know about him but you aren't not going to tell your sister because she is a huge Pedro fan. He has shown you enough love and affection to prove your relationship is not ending any time soon. You're both really happy with each other.

Pedro has been spending nearly every night at your place. You haven't been inside his place yet. He says it's because he's having new stuff done to the apartment, new renovating, but the way he's been acting lately, I don't know what's up with him.

♡♡♡

Tuesday 13th February

You were walking the streets of New York, taking in the loving air that just brings a smile to my face every time I step out the door. You were on your way to the grocery store because you only have little bits in the cupboards and fridge. You stepped in, and the smell of fresh meat and vegetables caught through your nose. You smiled wider, and you continued walking down one of the vegetables sections when you got a text from Pedro

Pedro

Hey baby, don't make any plans for tomorrow night. I have something planned for us

You

What are you up to now, babe?

Pedro

Nothing, just don't make any plans for tomorrow, okay? I love you

You

Okay, I'm trusting you with whatever you have planned in the adorable brain of you. I love you too

You put your phone back in your handbag to continue your shopping. Your brain kept on guessing what the hell was going on with him. He's been acting strange for a couple of weeks now, and it's starting to freak me out.

After you get home, you pack away the groceries, and you go over to relax on the couch. You turn on the TV flicking to any random channel. You end up falling asleep for the next few hours. You are woken up by your phone ringing, you go to check, and it is your sister Mandy,

"Hey, big sis, are you doing anything right now?" She asks

"No, not right now, you just kinda woke me up from my nap," you say, yawning

"I'm sorry, but I need you right now. I just broke up with my boyfriend"

"Are you kidding me a day before Valentines Day?" You say angrily

"Yes, he say said he doesn't love me anymore, and his words were 'What's the point celebrating V-Day if I'm with someone I don't love'. Please, I need you, sister. I have nowhere else to go." She says sobbing

"Well, I guess you can stay with me," you say with a calm sigh

"Thank you so much, sis. I will see you soon" she says before she hung up the phone.

A couple of hours later, your sister Mandy shows up with a two big bag, you let her in she's sobbing telling you everything about how she thought they were happy and then he turns everything upside down. You were about to say something back to her when you heard a knock on the door. You tell your Mandy to wait while you go to answer the door. You open the door to find Pedro stood there, you shout to your sister that you will be right back

"Hey baby, are you okay?" He asked, giving you a kiss

"Hey, and yeah, I'm fine. I'm just right nows not a good time." You say hugging him

"Why, what's wrong?" He asks

"I have my sister inside, and she just broke up with her boyfriend, a day before Valentines. Seriously, can you believe that?"

"Oh my god, that's the worst time to break up with somebody. How is she now?"

"She's okay, I had her crying on my shoulder for the past hour. But seriously, Pedro, I'd let you in, but she's kind of a huge fan of yours, and she's doing know about us, you know"

"How's about this, I come in and say hi, if like you said, she's a big fan, and it will probably put a smile on her face," he says, smiling.

You think for a second because you don't want your sister bugging him with question and being all over him. After a few minutes, you hold your one finger up to say 'give me a moment' before walking back into the living space. Your sister looks about you weird while drying her eyes

"Mandy, I have somebody for you to meet. But you got to promise not to freak out, okay? "

"Okay" she says rubbing her face

"Okay, wait here"

You walk back out the door, grab pedro's hand, and walk him inside. You don't know how your sister will react. You've never seen her crazy for someone she's a fan of. You both walk into the living space

"Mandy, I would like you to meet my boyfriend," you say. Her eyes flick to Pedro's, and she instantly recognises him

"Oh my God!, is this a joke? He's really your boyfriend, " she says, excitingly, like all her troubles have disappeared

"It's nice to meet you, Mandy." Pedro says to her, holding out his hand. Instead of shaking his hand, she instantly goes in for a hug, hugging him tightly as tears appear in her eyes again, but this time, happy tears. When she lets go, she instantly apologizes for it

"I'm so sorry for hugging you, I mean, you are the Pedro Pascal," she says, sniffling, trying to try her eyes

"No apology needed, your sister told me you're a big fan and that you were going through a tough time, and I just wanted to say hi and see how you were doing," he says rubbing her arm

"This is the best day of my life. Seriously, I loved you in Game Of Thrones, Narcos, The Last Of Us, and damn many more stuff, " she says, smiling

"I appreciate it, Mandy, I hope you're ready for the second season of The Last Of Us in April," he chuckled

"Totally," she says

After talking for hours, Pedro says he's got to go because of an early start tomorrow because of rehearing for SNL, he tell you he loves you and he will see you tomorrow night

♡♡♡

Valentines Day / evening

Pedro invited you and your sister to the 50th SNL homecoming as well as his sister Javiera.

The four of you walk to the homecoming concert, pedro wants the Valentines Day party to be the best thing of your life and it definitely will.

You and Pedro walk hand in hand to find your spot before the show starts, he wraps his arm around your shoulders and kiss the top of your head, your sister Mandy is next to Javiera. You all wait for the show to start

"Sorry it's no romantic dinner but I thought this would be better" he whispered in your ear

"It's still romantic because I'm with you" you say kissing his cheek

"And I also thought tonight would be the best night to reveal our relationship" he kisses you back "because at some point tonight one of the cameras will be showing us on that screen over there" he pointed to the screen off the side of the big space in SNL

"Oh my god I hate looking at my self"

"Why your too gorgeous not to look at yourself" he wraps his arms around your waist resting his chin on your shoulder

"No I just hate looking at myself" you say hiding your face

"From my view your beautiful baby"

In the middle of the show where you could see Miley Cyrus started to sing Crazy Little Thing Called Love, you and Pedro started dancing, swaying he had his hands on your hips, gripping you as he brushed against you. Pedro started to sing the lyrics in your ear just as a camera got a few seconds shot of you both

"Smile for camera mi amor" his hand comes to your cheek as he kisses you on the lips "just that shot everyone knows I'm yours now. Happy Valentines day baby"

The show was just finishing as you and Pedro hug. You both were heading out to walk back home, Javiera went her own way so Mandy walked back with us

"Come back to my place with me babe, still need to finish the night with just the two of us" he says in your ear

"Okay I'd love to finally see your place" you say kissing his lips "Mandy are you okay to stay at my place on your own?"

"Of course I've already ruined your Valentines enough by not letting you both be my yourselfs" she says hugging you

"You haven't ruined anything Mandy, your going through something rough so I wanted to make sure your valentines day was good too" he says hugging her. He gave her a peck on the cheek

"Thank you so much Pedro" she says

"You're welcome cariño"

♡♡♡

You both walk into the apartment you walk around admiring the kitchen to the living space it was beautiful. You sat down on his couch as he got two glasses and a bottle of wine, he poured you a glass and then himself one

"Happy Valentines Day mi amor" you both clinked your glasses together "I love you"

"I love you too Babe" you both finished your glasses. You both stare at each other smiling

"I think we should take ourselves to my bedroom because I want to rip this dress off your body, I want to give you a Valentine fuck" he says rubbing your thighs

"Oh I don't know about that one papi, if your bed is comfortable I might be asleep in seconds" you say moving to sit in his lap

"I'll make sure your on top then" he picks you up, both start kissing all the way to his bedroom, he sits you on the bed as he started to unbutton his shirt, you start with his belt, unbuckling it

"God your still pretty as ever" you say to his cock before you kiss the tip, and then flicking your tongue on the tip

"Oh my god baby you know it makes me want to cum hard if you do that to the tip" he says in moan. You pull away take off your dress, he places you in the middle of the bed

As you laid there nearly falling asleep you soon shot back up when you felt Pedro shove two fingers deep inside your pussy, his thumb rubbing your clit. He was grinning as he came up to kiss you

"I'm just preparing you baby. Cum on my fingers come on" he fingers picking up the pace curling inside you. You arch your back, scrunching your face

"Oh god P-pedro, just give me your cock already" you moan

" I want you to cum on my fingers first cariño. You cum and I'll fuck you deep. Deal" he says resting his forehead against yours "such a pretty, aweet pussy"

After ten minutes you cum on his fingers screaming his name. He takes his fingers out and puts then in his mouth

"Fuck, you taste so beautiful" he says

"Can I have your cock now?" He nods as he placed himself inside of you "fuck me daddy"

"Come on hermosa"

He started pounding into you, slamming his hips, the sound of skins slapping and panting it was getting too much, to Pedro he could go for hours.

After what felt like hours Pedro could feel you tightening, squeezing around him "babe I'm gonna cum!"

"Come on, baby cum on me. After you can milk me dry" he started rubbing your clit with his thumb after 5 minutes you come on his cock

"Holy shit. God I love you" you moaned

"Yo también te amo bebé. ahora es mi turno" ( I love you too baby. now it's my turn )

"Come on daddy, cum in me. Fill me up nice and deep" you grab his face to kiss him deeply, sucking the air from his mouth

"Baby I'm gonna...hmm I'm gonna cum." You moved your hands down his body, squeezing his ass, pressing him deeper inside you.

After a few minutes he came deep inside of you pressing deeper, "baby I will you move in with me?"

"Pedro do you even know what your saying, your all cummed out, your not thinking"

"You heard me loud and clear baby I want you to move in, I want to wake up next to you for the rest of my life"

"Okay" you say

"You will?" His eyes wide you nodded

"Of course I will papi"

He pulled his soft cock out

"Happy Valentines Day baby. I love you"

"I love you too babe"

You both lay there in bed staring at each other, Pedro's phone started ding every 5 minutes, he gets his phone and looks at all his fans tagging Pedro in post's "See we are officially out there baby."

Pedro fell asleep with you in his arms and in his bed, or should you say both of your bed now.

(This fic was a last-minute idea to write, I know V-Day has gone now, but here's the fic anyways)

#pedropascal #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal smut #pedrohub #pedro pascal fanfic #valentines day #joelmillerpascal

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joelmillerpascal · 2 months ago

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Hello everyone, welcome to my masterlist of Pedro Pascal and his characters.

Do feel free to request anything for further fics of Pedro or his characters

Pedro Pascal

Your Valentine

Lay All Your Love On Me

More Coming Soon

Joel Miller

Lucky Room 22: Chapt 1 is coming

Harry Castillo

TBA

Javi Gutierrez

Coming Soon

Other Pedro's Characters

TBA

Other people's fics

Darlin', Can I Be Your Favorite? By @dilf-docs

The boyfriend act by @capuccinodoll

#pedropascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal imagines #pedrohub #pascalispunk #pedro pascal fic #clint freaky tales #joel miller #harry castillo #the last of us #materialists #pedro pascal masterlist #masterlist #joelmillerpascal

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joelmillerpascal · 29 days ago

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⚒️ JOEL & CLINT 🪓🎨

#pedropascal #pedro pascal fandom #pedrohub #pascalispunk #pedro pascal imagines #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal art #the last of us #joel miller #freaky tales #clint freaky tales #joelmillerpascal

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dilf-docs · 2 months ago

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ANYTIME! giving oomfies priority on their requests 🫶🏼

Darlin', Can I Be Your Favorite?

dbf!boxer pedro pascal x younger fem!reader

summary: it should be simple. helping your dad's best friend to train for his upcoming match in his hometown, chile. but turns out, world-renowned boxer the viper isn't just a menace in the ring.

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (girthy), smut, p. in v., oral (m. receiving), rough sex, public sex, praise kink, humilliation kink, daddy kink (she's got daddy issues; idc if this is mischaracterizing you, you'll live), dom!pedro, use of pet names (doll/baby), some angst because that's my staple, idk shit about boxing my bad (i'm more of a ufc girlie kinda) so let's focus on the filth!!

word count: 5,874 words

side note: this very different albeit genius request got me a small hit tweet. song of choice for this piece i sped up because of my ovulation is favorite, by isabel larosa. there are several paragraphs in this that could be used against me and are proof i'm loosing my mind during this midterm/fertile week had to use a clint gif because feaky tales clint so sexy might watch the movie on theatres with my legs open

You weren't new to this.

The small walls, dim light, the sweat, the blood... you were shoved into it. By your father, since you were a baby. Long before you could even walk, grabby hands trying to reach for a ring that seemed so far, the violence and the rage contained inside the quadrilateral.

So you grew up wanting it. The desire. The ichor. Rough and brutal.

You'd never step in, but always stood by your father's side. Until the age of boys, over-coated glossy lips and blooming girlhood arrived. Long gone where the days were you'd be next to your dad inside the dim-light place, now filled with car rides and girly laughter about all and nothing. You changed the sweat scent of the place for vainilla, and the oversized t-shirts for skirts that showed your laced panties if you bent.

The fights started then, but the ring became your home. Slut, he'd call you, saying this wasn't the girl he raised. Your mother would cry, tired of trying to stop the fighting that extended sometimes until late at dawn, when you'd show up on the doorstep, skirt torn apart and panties wet despite the dry summer.

The beast laid dormant inside you. That primal raw hunger; it never ceased to exist.

Now it was on your roaring voice, refusing to shut up and take the harsh language spoken by your own blood. It was on the defiance, cutting your clothes even smaller, pushing the wearable limit. On the way your makeup and manners got more scandalous, and how you'd throw your door louder each time another confrontation took place, the once lively home now a wrestle between two forces refusing to back down. But when you weren't with a bottle in your mouth or a guy in between your legs, you'd think of his hands grabbing yours as he showed you the gym around, introducing you to regulars. My little girl, he'd said proudly, and you would smile like he did. You'd grab the broken frame you once threw against the wall in a fit of rage, crimson imprinted over the photograph below the broken shards you tried to miserably put together again. Fucking failure. But it's impossible to piece what's already broken back together.

But you were still a believer, despite it all: the same girl who saw the magic in the beasts trapped within the cage, thunderous brutality in the place you once called your second home.

Maybe that's why you agreed to help your dad on this. To see a bit of that smile that had faded in time like the colors of the rust painted lockers. To hear a good girl praise. Not slut. To see a glimpse of the man who said he'd pass this place to you, useless now on his mouth as the gym crumbled just like your relationship. In the end, you were his daughter, begging to be seen.

And you were seen. Not by him. But by him.

The Viper. Pronounced in a whisper, because out loud sounded like a curse, bound to risk too much.

He had been a casual before, remembering his days when no facial hair adorned his face and he'd talk with your dad while laughing in a boasting sound, like he knew he'd break out in the scene. He did. And then he stopped coming, because he was too busy winning and living life than to return to a place that was falling apart.

But then your dad came rushing home, like he was to bear bad news. And boy, wasn't he? The leather, the greys now starting to take over his hair like the bad choices in the form of women and alcohol, ones that had once carried a bad boy charm which now had ripen into a sour taste, a lifestyle that belonged to the golden years left in a past long left behind. He didn't belong anymore, but refused to quit. The violence was a vice, and despite loosing everything, he had never lost a match.

"He wants to train" your dad panted out to your worried mother, who thought worst. "For a match, in Chile, his hometown. He talks about coming back"

Your dad may have been the first to know such, but not the last. No, because what started with a call late at night on your dad's old office (He had said Remember me, old friend? oscilating between nostalgia and teasing, and when your dad called his name, a soft incredulous Pedro? he had let out one of his victorious golden laughs, like coins falling down, as to let him know it was still him, despite it all), ended up on the news.

He's coming. He's coming. He's coming. Like a warning before the big bad wolf struck again.

In a way, you think, as he stands before you, he is one: the sharp eyes and bearing teeth. A fighter never backs down, and he seemed to be always in guard.

Hadn't recognized you at first, blinking a few times before a lazy and easy sleazy smile appeared on his face.

"This the same girl that asked me to carry her on my shoulders?" and a chuckle. "I think I still could"

A low, dangerous rich rumble. A dare. Challenging. Pedro didn't know you too had changed in many ways, and he certainly didn't know either you had touched yourself at night to the sound of his velvety voice, wrapping you up like the sweat that set your skin ablaze, a fist in your mouth to stop his name from slithering past your lips, image set on the way his eyes roamed over your woman body like an all too well trap he always falls in like a vice, trying to think if it was real or just another one of the troubles you loved to cause yourself.

But once you're deep, you can only go deeper.

Your dad left for Chile a day earlier, to set preparations you could care less, which is why you're here.

You promised not to fuck it up, seeing a peek of that man who swore to protect you from the cruel world outside. You needed this. Wanted this. When his lips parted but closed, many words hanging on the air coated with burnt cigars and sweat (I'm sorry. I'm proud of you. Don't dissapoint me. Don't break my heart. Don't fuck this up. I love you), you decided you'd do everything in your power to get your dad back.

The task was rather easy: help The Viper train before his big match in Chile.

Easy, if said man wasn't your dad's best friend, Pedro Pascal.

You feel like a voyeuristic freak watching from a corner as he pounds into the boxing bag repeatedly. Drops of salty sweat begin to run through his back, the white cloth now near transparent with how it sticks to his tan skin.

Pedro is big. All boxers were, seeing them coming and going from your dad's gym. But he was beefy. Not the slender and compact, but the huge thick type. The one were just his hands alone looked like he could snap your neck in two if he wanted.

You're supposed to be out there, helping him, but after your dirty little session two nights ago, and yesterday's dinner at your home, you're just not capable to meet him in the eye, despite promises to your dad and the fire to get his affection back.

(He had come over for dinner. Your mom made lasagna, your favorite dish of hers, but the plate went cold as you took in his words like an oil, spreading the grave tone that coated your panties like a second skin. You pressed your legs together, a shaky breath escaping past your treacherous lips when he said how much you'd grown, blaming the sauce when he licked his lips. Your parents stood up to collect the dishes, and then he leaned down and whispered: Ain't you become a doll?)

(It was nothing. It was just a man who knew your father and no better. But you didn't, either)

Last night, to erase the spell he seemed to have cast upon you, you went to one of your old friends while he beat himself up on the gym, where you were supposed to be. But when your orgasm washed over, you said his name instead; no cold shower could scrub away the humilliation.

(And the house still smelled like him. Bitter coffee, leather and sweat. It was salty and citric, up in your nostrils with an invasion that was, if not, fitting. You were obssesed, with the champion and the legend, and he was an old man looking for a fresh doe-eyed girl who could take it)

You gawk like a man would, but, how not? Dude too appeared to be hung. What is it they say about men with big noses, big hands and big thighs? Big. Big. Big. Fucking hell, you needed to be locked up.

"I know you're in there, baby" his voice cuts through the silence. It's night, and you should be locking up already, scarce customers long gone. "Was never good at hiding"

You emerge from the shadows, sporting only a small black short and a white tank top. He chuckles. With you, nothing is a coincidence.

"Some things never change"

He snickers, "but glad some do"

You breath in, getting closer to him. Again, his scent intrudes your senses, making you dizzy like a drug. Your circuits are busy, and his high.

"You were supposed to help me 'round here" he motions the place. But you're stuck on his hands, wrapped in tape. Those hands, brief peek of his tattoo hidden between the white. "What would your dad say, huh?"

His tone is devoid of malice and full of teasing, but your stomach churns.

"He'd say what he always says" he shots up an eyebrow, as if daring you to speak. "That I'm a fucking failure"

Pedro seems taken back by the sudden change in the atmosphere, nonetheless, still charged with unspoken uncertainty.

"Your dad?" like he couldn't connect the man he knew to the one he is now.

"How would you know?" comes out harsher than you intended, a shameful bitter taste in your mouth. "A lot has changed since you left"

A quiet rage settles in his eyes, the beast caged behind the enclosure begging to be let out.

"Why you throwing it on my face? I ain't your daddy"

It shouldn't hurt. This is ridiculous. But, hell, it does; you're nobody's daughter.

"Good you aren't my fucking daddy"

The silence washes over you at the same time the embarrassment does. You realize too late the words that left your mouth, and if you're quick to try to run, he's faster, your back pressed to the material of the hanging punching bag.

"Say it" he demands, "again"

Your face grows hotter by the minute. "I have no idea what you're talking about"

"First a terrible discreet and now a bad liar" his spit spurts in your face, each word with punctuation and a seethe. "Anything else?"

Yes. So much. You're drowning at this point, still not deciding if it's because of the smell his body is emanating or your heavy heart's fault. But he's the last person you'll tell all of this to.

"Not that it matters to you, anyway"

Yet, to an extent, it seems like he knows. As if he's able to see past the forced sweetness, the sarcasm and the layers of makeup and numbingly intoxicating vainilla. Pedro thinks at least he does.

So if you're on fire, he'll let you keep burning.

"I could be him, you know?" your ears start ringing at some point, and you're sure your heart stops. "I could be your daddy"

There's no going deeper than this.

"Thank God you aren't"

And it's like a slap to his face. The oh-mighty undisputed champion steps back. There is always a first, and maybe this is what loss feels like.

"Baby-"

Your ears keep on ringing as you move far from him, your heart dangerously close to leaping from your throat to the cold hard ground. Who does he think he is? He hasn't even been back for a day and has already found a way to break you from inside. To ruin you. As if he never left and has known every secret hidden between your ribs, his memory nestled since forever. But he's too picked apart your bones, in just a matter of seconds, biting down on the marrow of your deepest insecurities.

You hate him. You hate Pedro. You hope he looses, and you accept you've already lost your dad.

But then, as you realize your sat at the end of the gym, the worn out lockers on display, you have an idea.

With you, it was always about revenge, wasn't it?

The beast is awake, howling upon you. Ichor. Rage. This rotten girlhood that started with Malibu dreams and has ended on beds that reek of cheap whiskey and a quick fix in the name of forgetting.

"Pedro"

His head almost snaps looking in your direction. Not like he wanted to search for you to ask for your forgiveness. A match to mark his comeback and change his life will happen in just a couple of hours; he's got bigger problems than a girl who can't see things the way they are. He isn't an apostle of acceptance, but his wicked selfish nature finds pleasure in punishing you for his same sins.

But to play a game, you need two.

"In here" he answers, as if he hasn't moved since your little altercation.

"You need to shower" he catches in time the towel you throw at him. He chuckles dryly at your childish behavior. "You stink"

"You sure? 'Cause just a minute ago, it seemed you were into it" he's quick to quip, matching your energy.

That cocky motherfucker. So full of himself. You hate the sleazy smile of a winner. Does he think you're going down as easy as that?

Of course, you aren't blind. He's attractive, but is this worth it? You see his damp shirt and sweat drenched thighs. No. You look away, flustered.

"I think you need a break, old man. You're not who you used to be" you turn your back to him, so he doesn't see your red hot face, "seeing things that aren't real"

You start to walk to the changing room, and even if not spoken, there's an implication to follow you. So Pedro does, because it's night and Friday and he's got nowhere else to go.

He follows you into the locker room, but this isn't you.

Not the little girl who looked up to him like he could beat the whole world, hand in hand. Not the broken woman, who tried so hard to keep up a mask he could easily see through, maybe because it was akin to his own.

No. This is a fucking temptress. A siren call to drown.

"Sit"

He decided to be a boxer the day he knew he wasn't meant to be bent. The day he realized he hated being weak and wanted to always lead his own path. If it was through violence and punches, so be it.

But he's obeying your command, like a lap dog. If the change isn't noticeable enough, your wicked grin gives it away. He takes his place on the bench, sitting down with aching joints.

"What were you thinking?" you whisper.

A vein on his neck pops out aggressively at the remark.

"I can still handle it"

The way his voice drops to a lower octave, the scowl on his face prominent, like he's both offended and peaked in interest by your remark.

"Is that a challenge?" you tease, playfully. "I'm not your opponent, Pascal. Save it for tomorrow night"

Your fingers itch, and before you think about it twice, they're digging across the soft flesh of his broad back.

"What-"

You hush him almost instantly. "Let me"

You trace patters across the expanse of his hard planes, arousal pooling at the rough of his edges, the dry and scarred of his skin. It's also the sturdy built, what makes it harder to not... appreciate. You happen to be into appreciating the small things, that's all.

(But small, he definitely isn't)

"You're tired" you trace his worn muscles, lost in the way he seems to equally tense and relax under your fluttering touch. "Let me help you"

"What's this?" equally soft. A tattoo. But not the one's you've seen; you wonder if it is for your bad memory or because it's new. "Vae victis"

"Woe to the defeated" he's quick to answer. Taking your silence as a signal to continue, he adds. "It's a way to remember the ones I fight are people, not numbers"

If his voice carries a tinge of vulnerability, you must've imagined it.

"Never took you as the empath type" and your fingers leave his skin, as if it burns.

He lets out a soft humorless laugh.

"There's a lot you don't know about me, baby"

You don't let him have the last word, and to punctuate your final blow, you press a short kiss to the tattoo. He didn't see it coming-- your mint breath ghosting over his shoulder onto his face. Pedro forgets how to breath.

"I've always loved a good mystery"

Knockout.

He looks up from the bench, breathing still panting as he sees your retreating figure, until all that's left in the room is him and his worn-out body. Then, the soft pit-pat of the water hitting the tiles jolts him awake.

"It's ready" your voice says, but you're still there, and not back to the lockers.

Why were you preparing him a shower? It's not like he couldn't turn on the switch.

Pedro removes the towel from his neck and walks over to the showers, only to find you still there, white blouse as damp as his.

"What-"

"Get in"

He's about to repeat it, this time harsher and louder (Have you gone insane, woman?), but then your sweet persistent voice digs on his mulish character like a knife to a wound, and his reasoning has flown out of the window.

"You're gonna wet yourself" is all Pedro can manage to say.

The (possible) double meaning makes his belly rumble.

"I know" you repeat, answering for both. And then get inside.

The water starts to make your clothes hug your body, and he's lost in the curves of your ass and tits. Your muscles, while albeit not worked out, are both soft and strong, plush skin inviting for a bite. You've got both the firm and the soft that comes with age and womanhood, and his cock is itching to have his invite to your warm walls.

"What are you waiting for? Are you going to bath with clothes on?"

He rolls his eyes. "Look who's talking"

The cold water hits him when you too have taken off your clothes.

Couldn't get challenged because your too stubborn ass fell right into the bait.

His breath gets caught in his throat as your soapy hands explore his body. His adam's apple bobs as he gulps, enthralled by your firm yet gentle scrubbing, washing away remnants of sweat and dirt. All words are lost at the devotion, worship and reverance that seems to pour from your digits as you sweep his body.

"How?" your voice drowns out with the drops of water.

"Bad move" he whispers, seeing it across his arm. It's runs across almost all of his inner bicep, big. It didn't heal as good as he'd liked, but chicks seemed to dig it. "Had to go to the hospital"

You, however, seem more into the... understanding side of it. Not on the thrill and the danger, but on the damage that's healed in time but never left. More on the pain, and not the punch.

"And this?"

"Gloves"

"What?"

"Gloves" he repeats, still not that loud, as if he's ashamed. "They can create cuts when the skin is pulled during a strike"

"I don't get it"

And instead of mocking you, Pedro finds himself trying to explain it.

"It's because of the friction of the gloves against the skin" he sighs. "Was too dumb and too full of myself to understand it. Then it happened and I got this"

"What has changed?" you tease him, but it's as tender as a lingering touch. "Don't worry, Pedro. Everyone makes mistakes, even the greats"

It's a rather sweet moment, only broken by your teeth sinking into the scarred tissue, yet you're quick to soothe it with a wet kiss.

He groans, head falling back as your greedy little hands now slide through the hard of his chest, his nipples perked under the cold of the water and the warm of your touch; body electric.

"Fuck, baby. You're going to be the death of me" he groans, shivering at your insistence on making him break. "Keep tryin', but you won't make me beg, muñeca" (doll)

Still hellbent on denying you of himself, the hotheaded stubborn prideful bastard. Not even with your tits in the air, bare cunt aching.

"No?" you feign innocence, batting those wet eyelashes of yours. Then your lips find his scars, licking and pressing sweet warm kisses across the expanse of his chest and body, ending on the one across his face. For a moment, he falters at the intensity of your gaze, almost slipping on the tiles. "Still no?"

You fucking minx. "Fighters don't beg" he says, but every contact of your lips and tongue against his wet body send bolts of electricity to his aching semi-hard cock.

"But real men do"

Without further ado, you descend until your knees hit the tiles, water running through your legs like a river. You don't wait for an answer, all you need to know in his parted lips and his deep stare at you through dark hooded eyes.

A low, guttural moan tears from Pedro's throat as your tongue flicks a quick lick at his sensitive head. He's grabbing your hair with rough hands, tangling into your damp curls, his hips jerking involuntarily as your lips wrap around the tip, tongue swirling and teasing the most sensitive parts.

"Fuck" he groans, "aren't you trouble, doll? Really gonna make me beg for that release, ain't you? With that tongue of yours"

You give another proud lick at his throbbing angry red flesh, head already leaking with precum.

"What'd your daddy think about his daughter sucking his best friend's cock in the showers?"

You ignore him, too busy lost in the way his cock throbs and pulses in your mouth, his balls tightening with a pressure that built more each passing second.

"Not a talker, huh? Were that loud mouth of yours go?" he teases, his grip not faltering on your hair. "That's what y'r daddy said. Or maybe he was talking of another daughter. Not this little obedient slut who devours my cock like she's starved" his voice is strained. "Such a good girl, though, taking care of an old man like this. You like how it tastes?"

You pull out, making him groan.

"Why'd stop?" his voice is strained, rough with desire. His pupils are blown wide, circling with desbelief and something more primal. But he'll never say that, will he?

Too bad for him, you don't know when to shut up. Or quit.

"I want to hear you say it"

He chuckles darkly, his grip on your hair tighter now. "What'd say?"

"Me? Nothing" your lips part, words slurring before you think better. "You is I wanna hear"

"Fucking cunt" his eyes darken, "think you can tease me and get away with it? No, you'll be a good little cocksleeve and take it all"

You moan at his lewd words, thighs clasping together in search for some relief for the pressure building on your bare cunt.

"That's right, you dirty cocksucker. Look at you, thinking you can bend a fucking champion like me"

He knew his power over you. Frankly, he had to thank your old man for fucking you up so bad. Pedro loved how all your resolute seemed to vanish in the air, looking so eager and willing, desperate to please him. Be it for praise or for how much you wanted this like him, but it is this what makes him feel like a true winner.

"Don't you wanna suck this dick so bad?" his thumb tugs down your lip, "Be a good girl and I might give it to you"

Just like that, you're done.

"Please, I want to be a good girl. Use me, fuck me with your mouth"

He lets out a growl, voice low and rough. "Oh, t's alright, muñeca. I'll use this dirty little mouth of yours, all right" he fists your hair again, pulling you closer. "Gonna fuck you so good, you'll be feeling me all week: every time you taste, swallow and speak. Fill your dirty mouth so good with so much cum, you'll be tasting it for hours, for days, 'n for the rest of your fucking life"

Pedro thrusts his hips forward, pushing more and more of his thick, hard cock past your lips. He sets a steady pace, eyes locked on your face as he fucks your mouth with deep strokes.

"Just like that" he praises, breaths sharp as he looses himself in how his girth is nestled in your mouth. "Take it all, like a good little girl. So show me, baby, show me how much you love the taste of my cock. How much you need it-- crave it"

Your moan gets lost in your constricted throat, struggling to take him deeper, breathing and swallowing almost impossible with his girth taking up all of the space inside of your mouth. If Pedro felt like a king before, now he feels like a god.

"Such a perfect little cock sleeve for me to use, to fill, to fuck" he groans, his hips picking up speed, thrusts growing harder and more urgent.

His orgasm starts building, and he knows it by the way his balls tighten and his cock pulses inside the heat of your throat. Pedro knows he's close to coming, that he's seconds away from it.

Even if he's lost completely in the act, he's foremost a gentleman, but when he's about to pull out, your hands grip tightly to this thighs, and hold him in place as he tries to move. A rush of lust washes him over the cold water, a dark desire coursing through him at your pathetic display of eagerness and desperation.

"Fuck, baby" Pedro's voice reduced to a low, guttural rumble as he gazes down at you. You swear you can see a brief glint of admiration on his eyes. "You want my cum that badly, muñeca? Do you want to swallow it all down like a good little slut?"

He's rocking his hips forward, burying himself balls-deep in your warm throat, his swollen cock pulsing and throbbing against your tonsils as his orgasm crashes over him. Pedro throws his head back as so do his eyes, body shuddering and convulsing as thick ropes of hot cum shoot from his cock.

"You're doin' great, baby" he pants, his grip on your hair tight as he grounds his hips against your face, pushing himself deep into your mouth as he physically could. "Show me what a good little cumslut you are and don't waste a fuckin' drop. Swallow it all"

Aren't you perfect? Gulping and swallowing, trying your best good girl shtick as you take everything he has to give you, his musky sweat filled scent up your nostrils, despite the soap still covering some of his body.

"Fuck, y/n" he groans, body going limp. He falls back against one of the shower's walls, chest up and down with uneven breaths. "Greedy little girl with a greedy little throat"

He slowly pulls out of your mouth, his softening cock slipping from your lips.

"Get up, baby. Your father's bill will be brutal if we don't hurry up" he hauls you up and into his arms. "But truth is, I'ont give a fuck. I'm still thinking 'bout your lips 'round my cock"

Before you say anything, he's dragging your body again like you weight nothing, but this time, it's to crush his hot desperate mouth into yours with a rough kiss. Pedro can taste himself mixed with your sweet and drool. He groans at that, the sound painfully animal.

"Hey" he gently tugs you, a mannerism you would never associate with him. "Where you think you're going?"

You blink once. Twice. Then again, slower.

"What are you talking about?"

Your back meets the wall, Pedro brutally slamming your body until the tiles dig into your skin.

"Ow- wait" you hiss, "the fuck's gotten into you?"

"Think I'll let you go after this?" he growls. Then, chuckles, darkly so. "No, baby. I gotta try first" his fingers grab the supple skin of your ass until you feel them melt into it. He then spanks it, creating a weird sound with the combined water droplets. "Need to see if the pussy is as sweet as your mouth. So be a good girl and let me handle this, alright? As I said, I still can"

And for a reason, that feels like a threat.

His calloused digits venture dangerously close to your entrance, fingers going in. He coats it with your slick, making him laugh that laugh uniquely his.

"Fuck, muñeca. You're as wet as this shower head" Pedro presses himself into you, his cock touching your stomach. "Don't ever try to lie to me again, I ain't no fool"

Traitorous body. But his seething voice, the way his dominance slithers into jolts through your slick folds. You whine, pressing your tighs together. Pedro's quick to see this, and before you get to say anything else, he parts them roughly.

"I said I ain't no fool" he grunts while rubbing the tip of his cock over your folds, applying pressure on your clit. "Bad girl"

No warning, just his cock slipping past your wet dripping folds. Your hands fly to reach his neck for support.

"S'fucking grabby" he teases, slipping his pulsating dick between your folds once more, pressing and then pushing in slowly.

He swallows your whimper in a kiss, your poor pussy stretching to accommodate his thick girth. His big hands pull your body closer to his.

"But I'm the grabby one"

He growls. "Quit talking"

With one brutal thrust, he buries himself to the hilt, balls pressed against the flesh of your ass. You grip his hair, chocolate curls tangled between your fingers. He leans in, pressing his forehead against yours. The pain carries waves of pleasure laced within, despite his aggressive thrusting and quick pace. You roll your hips upwards, eliciting a faint whimper out of your lips.

"No, doll" his fingers dig in your waist, a purple soon to follow. "You do what I say, clear?"

His cock grinds forward, stretching you out.

"Fuck-!" you choke out, "Pedro!"

He growls when he hears his name on your lips, an all consuming desire to make you his washing over him.

He then grabs you by your legs, hooking them around his waist.

You mewl out his name in a cry.

"See?" Pedro blurts out. "Told ya' I still had it on me, baby"

Your hands scramble to grab him by his shoulders, the pain and pleasure making your head spin. He can feel your tits jump with each bounce provoked by his thrusts, the rosy skin pressed against his chest.

"Gonna fill you up so bad, you won't ever doubt me again"

Pedro pulls back and uses his arms to push himself up and hover over you. He began to drive his hips faster, loud clapping noises mixing with the falling water.

"I'm- I'm gonna"

"Ask, baby. Remember what I told you?"

"Yes. Sorry, daddy" you whimper. "Please, let me-"

"Let you what?" Pedro chuckles.

"Cum. Let me cum. Please, daddy, please" the words slurred as you feel yourself on edge.

"Very well" grinning satisfied, "but don't you dare keep any of those pretty noises just for yourself"

A high-pitched wails falls past your lips as you throw your head and eyes back, your legs shaking.

"Pedro-!"

He grunts at the sensation of your juices on his cock, coating it. In the way your walls flutter around his length, pussy tight making him groan against your neck, where he has now buried his face.

"Stay there, baby. It's my turn" his hips snap and his thrusts turn sloppy. "Gonna paint all of your tight folds with my cum"

His grip tightens as he fucks himself silly into you, chasing his high.

"S'fucking tight" he groans loudly. "Such a good girl for me"

He comes undone, salty hot ropes of thick white cum spurting inside of you, his cock deeply nestled inside of your welcoming warm walls.

"Fuck. Need to fill you up, doll. Until you're so stuffed you can't move without making a mess"

The water keeps falling, as you whimper softly, burying your face in his neck. Pedro keeps rocking into you while riding his orgasm out, soft breathless groans leaving him. He places you down, some of his cum on your thighs. He uses his finger to push it all inside.

"We have been to wasteful to keep on being, right?" Pedro jokes before closing the valve.

"Be honest. You don't give a damn about the planet"

He lets out a hearty laugh.

"Guilty as charged"

There's some silence before he's helping you get back on your shorts.

(He smacks your ass, saying you did it on purpose. You agree. After all, he's quick to know when you lie)

"Good girl" he praises with a small kiss. "Did so well for me"

You kiss him back, fiercely, your mouth practically sucking his lips.

"For good luck, daddy"

Pedro chuckles at your antics. "You fucking minx"

He leaves you after that, going for his stuff. But you stand still in the middle, lost like a little deer. Your ragged breaths fill the room, and he feels a little guilty about having fucked his best friend's daughter on his gym before leaving first thing in the morning to his home country.

"C'mere" you turn your head. "What? C'mon, don't leave me hanging"

You carefully make way to where he is, back in the same bench.

"Sit" he orders.

Oh, the irony of it all.

Once you take place next to him, he makes sure to remove a strand of wet hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear.

"When I win, which I will" you chuckle at his ego, "I'll be sure to remember you, doll"

So when your dad sends you a video of Pedro's match in Chile a day later and The Viper winks to the camera, you like to think it's for you.

#dilftown #reviews #joelmillerpascal #love u too!

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dilf-docs · 2 months ago

Text

series masterlist. +18 (minors dni). reposting and/or translating is not allowed.

There's only two things you know: money and heartbreak.

Born into New York's posh society, all your life you've been surrounded by the lavish of the elite world.

It is this why you meet him: Harry Castillo, the only person in the whole world to get under your skin, enough to know the mask you wear akin to those of the masquerade balls you've attended since twelve.

It is too the reason why you despise him.

Is it too the reason you happen to fall on his bed?

Or, alternatively, the one where you, New York's top divorce lawyer, tries to break off a couple that isn't even married, and that may or may not involve a certain million dollar man whose name you'd said before in a shaky plea.

Chapter Index

I: Strobbing Lights, Circled Calendars

II: Champagne Symphony, Caviar Dreams

III: Foul Promises, Forbidden Games

IV: High Heels, Hushed Whispers (TBA)

🔗: main masterlist / tlyitky: the mixtape / wattpad ver.

🏷: @io12n @dowscal @oscar-isaac @joelscowgirl @jxvipike @klarkapascal @lostinmyownmaze @folklore-barnes @alinacecee @sukitruqui @youusunshineyoutemptress @hermionelove @noisynightmarepoetry @ann-gell @suzysface @joelmillerpascal @ennvsco (comment if u wanna be tagged!)

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lillaydee · 14 days ago

Text

I'm Right Here Part 6

BFF!Joel Miller / F Reader

Sometimes the person we've been looking for has been right there all along.

@copperhalfcent, @demonsasss, @bergamote-catsandbooks, @peelieblue @liciafonseca @ultra-nina-bella @joelmillerpascal @kirsteng42 @heartpatch @capnjaket

Let me know if you want to be tagged or removed from the tag list

SERIES MASTER LIST

Part 5

Eric placed his hands before his face, his fists balled up, avoiding Joel’s punches. You screamed at him to get off Eric, pulling him with all your might by the shoulders. He stopped when he heard your voice, his stiffened body immediately relaxing, turning around to see you. His sudden movement threw you off balance, and you fell sideways, landing on your left shoulder against the wall, hard.

You heard the snap before you felt it. Benny came flying out of the room, pulling Joel off Eric before coming to check on you. “Are you okay Daze? Fuck, I heard that snap,” he said, helping you down to the floor as you cradled your left elbow. Joel kneeled in front of you, his face ashen, staring at your left arm, now hanging off what used to be your left shoulder.

You were curled up in a foetal position against the wall, whispering to Benny, asking him to check on Eric. “I’m okay, Daze,” Eric answered. He had gotten up, his nose bleeding, not that he noticed. The man was too busy orientating himself, trying to check on you.

“Fuck, I’m sorry Daze, I didn’t mean to,” Joel pleaded, unmoving from where he was. His body was trembling. You shook your head weakly, feeling the pain just then. You started sweating. Benny came out of Eric’s room with sweatpants for you, helping you get dressed. Eric cleaned his face, tossing his keys to Joel, telling him they needed to take you to the ER.

Joel drove extremely carefully to the ER, your yelps, sobs and cries at every bump, stops and turns breaking his heart. “I’m so sorry, Daze. I really am. I didn’t mean to make you fall. I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry…”

“Focus on driving, Joel,” Benny said, the man cradling your head on his lap, his fingers absentmindedly threading through your hair. Eric rode shotgun, one hand holding your good hand between the console, his other hand holding a towel against his still bleeding nose.

Joel rushed inside once you got to the ER, begging someone to help you. Eric taken elsewhere to be examined, while you were taken to a bed, Joel standing helplessly next to you, his hands twitching, his face the definition of guilt and worry. Benny sat next to you, your good hand in his. No one had spoken about what happened, save for Joel in his apologies. You refused painkillers when offered, the nurse looking doubtful, but impressed.

“Not the first time this happened,” Benny explained.

It wasn’t. Your left shoulder had always been weaker. Since that day your sperm donor lifted you up by your hand and flung you across the room for breaking a cup. It had happened a few times since, usually easily reinserted by a doctor who would send you home with a packet of ibuprofen. It hurt, it really did, but you were too used to it to make a big fuss.

The doctor came in and reset your shoulder after looking at your x-ray. After a quick scream and sob, you flexed your fingers and laid back, quietly sobbing into Benny’s arm, a warm pack on your shoulder. Someone gave Joel a stool to sit on, and he slumped onto it, an ice pack over his right hand.

Eric joined you after a while, his nose bandaged but not broken. Benny got up and looked at it closely, Eric telling him he was fine.

“You sure Babe? It looks bad…” Benny said, worry clear on his features. “Really, it’s just bruised. They stopped the bleeding, but I’m okay. Good thing you taught me to cover my face if attacked,” Eric said, affectionately taking Benny’s face in his hands, giving him a kiss.

“What…” Joel blurted out, shocked at what he was seeing.

Benny kept his head down, asking Eric to sit next to you. He cleared his throat, hands across his chest.

“Yeah, Joel. I’m bi. I’m dating Eric. A few months now.”

Joel looked at Eric, who lifted his hand as if saying hi to him, “I’m gay. It’s why I broke up with Daze.”

Joel looked at you, a question in his eyes.

“It wasn’t my secret to tell. Benny invited Eric to the lunch, not me, not Will. Will was covering for him.”

“I chickened out of telling my Mom,” Benny explained, “So I let Will lie. I asked Daze to lie for me too.”

“So… you and Eric…”

“No, Joel, we’re friends. Good friends,” Eric said, sitting near your foot, facing Joel.

Joel rubbed his face. “Eric… I’m so…”

Eric lifted his hand, shaking his head, “I egged you on, Joel. It’s not your fault. I’m okay. Bruised, but okay.”

“Still… I’m…”

“Really Joel, I’m fine. I’m sorry my face hurt your hand,” Eric joked, pointing at Joel’s bruised knuckles, earning him a smile from the guy.

There was a moment of awkward silence. Eric cleared his throat.

“Listen, we talked to Olivia, and we’ve agreed that Daze will move in with her until she gets a place of her own. Give you some privacy.”

Joel’s head snapped up, panic in his eyes. “No,” he managed, “Daze, no. Please don’t go. Stay. I’m sorry about yesterday. I don’t know what happened. I think…” he stopped, composing himself, “I think she drugged me. I don’t remember anything after leaving my Mom’s house. I woke up this morning and she was in my room. But I don’t remember taking her home or doing anything with her. She uh… she told me what you guys heard, but I don’t remember it… at all. I don’t think I did anything with her… but… I can’t…”

The three of you stared at him, aghast at what he had just revealed.

“We uh… we heard you, Joel,” Eric said, looking uncomfortable. “We heard you… uh… finish.”

Joel looked at you, and you busied yourself flexing your fingers. You could not look at him. Not without crying. Not without hearing Jen’s moans in your head.

“I don’t know what she did, but I know I didn’t have sex with her, with anyone. I know I did not… finish.”

“But you said you don’t remember anything,” Benny questioned.

“I don’t, but when I woke up, I was naked and… clean. Very clean. Completely dry. Jen couldn’t have cleaned me that well, not without bathing me. There was nothing… down there,” he said, trying hard not to look at you, his ears red from embarrassment. There was silence again, and he looked at Eric and Benny exasperatedly, “Come on, you know what I mean!”

Eric and Benny suddenly very heartily agreed, nodding their heads in understanding.

“I changed my sheets before I left for my Mom’s. It’s clean. No… stains, or… you know…”

Eric and Benny agreed once more, rigorously so. Perhaps a tad too much, even.

“Maybe she took you to the shower?” Benny asked.

“You’ve met her. You think she could carry a drugged me to the shower?”

The two thought for a bit, before conceding no. Jen was half his size. There was no way.

You’d had enough.

“Why would she drug you Joel? Didn’t you spend the night at her place the day before yesterday?”

“No,” he quickly replied. “I was at Tommy’s. He called from the PD, again,” he said, rolling his eyes at Benny. Benny shook his head, sighing.

“But I thought…”

“What? he asked you, his voice gentle.

“I heard you and Tommy at your Mom’s Joel, you told him you’re in love with her. that you’ve never felt like that about anyone. You wanted me gone but didn’t know how to tell me,” you kept your head down, your fingers twisting around the blanket.

Benny got up, clearing his throat. “Come on Babe, let’s go get your prescription. We’ll bring you two breakfast,” he said, offering Eric a hand. Eric squeezed your foot a little. “Talk to him,” he mouthed at you, standing up and following Benny out of the small, curtained area.

Joel stood up and sat in the chair Benny had just vacated, on your good hand’s side. He took your hand in his, his other hand tilting your face up by the chin. “Daze,” he whispered. “You got it wrong.” His eyes were soft, so soft, gazing at you as if you were the one who hung the stars out for him at night. “I wanted Jen gone, it’s you I’m in love with.”

You stared at him as if he was crazy. What?

“Daisy,” he whispered, taking your hand to his lips, kissing it ever so gently, “I’m in love with you. I’ve been in love with you since I was six. Since that day I married you in your garage.”

“But… Jen…”

“I never liked her. I helped her because it’s the right thing to do, but I never thought she was so…”

You raised your eyebrows at him, cringing a little. He laughed, kissing your hand again, stroking your hair. You leaned into his touch, your eyes closing.

“How can I sleep with her, when it’s you I yearn for. When the thought of you sleeping with Eric makes me want to… it’s you, Daze, it’s always been you.”

You couldn’t help the relieved smile that formed on your lips. He caressed your cheek, his other hand still holding your good one. His eyes flickered down to your lips, and he leaned in, almost shy, making your heart beat a thousand times faster than usual.

The curtain was drawn open abruptly, a nurse coming in, stopping when she saw the two of you. “Oops, sorry for interrupting,” she smiled, a doctor coming in after her. He basically warned you not to use your left hand too much for a couple of days, wear the sling, take the painkillers, use the ice packs and the warm compress when needed, nothing new, nothing you’d never heard before. “And… no rigorous… activities for at least a week, okay?” he smiled cheekily at Joel, who blushed so hard his entire head changed colours.

He helped you up and walked with his hand on your waist to get your prescription. The two of you waited for your name to be called quietly. You were still processing what happened in the past hour since he confessed his feelings to you, his version of events of what happened yesterday, the going ons that morning, and the pain you felt in your shoulder.

“They asked you to rest, for a couple of days. Stay home this week, okay? I’ll tell my Dad. No need to go in,” he told you.

“I have a job interview tomorrow,” you suddenly recalled.

“Can’t you push it back? I’m sure they’ll understand,” he gently pushed.

“No, I shouldn’t miss it. I can still go. Just with a sling. It shouldn’t take too long.”

“Okay I’ll go with you, I’ll take tomorrow off work. Tommy could take over for the day. I’m sure he’ll understand.”

“Joel… you don’t have to…”

“I want to. Please. Let me do this. After what I did to you… I need to do this. Please.”

“What do you mean?”

“You dislocated your shoulder again Daze. Because of me. After everything you’ve been through, I hurt you! Please let me do this…” he looked so guilty your stomach shrunk.

“Joel… I know you didn’t mean it. I lost my balance. You didn’t even push me. Joel, look at me,” you pleaded. His guilt-riddled eyes found yours after a few seconds, brimming with tears. “Listen to me, it’s not your fault. My shoulder is fucked anyway, I could dislocate it carrying a fucking box. Please don’t blame yourself for this.”

Took you a while, but you managed to calm him down enough. But he still insisted on taking you to your interview. You finally conceded, albeit half-heartedly.

“Are you okay?” you finally asked him. He frowned, what do you mean?

“Yesterday… Eric wasn’t lying. We heard you. Something happened. Maybe you should see someone. Maybe go to the cops, even.”

He smiled, but it wasn’t the usual smile he would give. It was controlled, forced, stiff. “I don’t know Daze… I don’t even know if she did anything. I can’t remember, I really can’t.”

“At least get yourself checked out. You never know. Better safe than sorry. You lost half a day. Even if she didn’t drug you something is off. No one loses half a day from a couple of painkillers.”

He kept quiet, but you could see the wheels turn in his head. Eric and Benny came back with coffee and burritos for the two of you, Benny helping you eat so you wouldn’t need to use both hands. Joel left the three of you for a while, coming back with an anxious look on his face, giving you a small smile once he saw you. He rode in the back with you to Eric’s apartment, Benny driving this time, his hand in yours, caressing the back of your hand with his thumb. He took your suitcase from Eric’s place and drove you home, putting you straight to bed after making you take some painkillers. He laid next to you in bed, gently caressing your hair as you fell asleep, promising you that he would be there when you woke up, and so will his Mom’s focaccia.

Joel treated you like glass over the next week, not letting you carry anything heavy, do much housework, drove you around even though you insisted you could cab it. That Monday, he waited for you in the lobby of the office building you interviewed at, reheated Anita’s food for you, changed the cold/warm compress to make sure you heal well, went on walks with you to make up for you not being able to run, and slept next to you in bed, just in case you needed him. He called you every hour while he was at work the rest of the week, warning you not to over-exert your shoulder, making sure there was plenty of microwaveable food for you at the house. Anita came to keep you company, bringing more food for the two of you to reheat, always smiling coyly as she stood up to leave when Joel’s truck drove up the driveway.

He hadn’t said anything to you about his confession in the ER, despite almost kissing you before you were interrupted by the nurse. But his actions definitely told you he wasn’t lying. He needed to be near you, but it was as if he was afraid to touch you, as if your arm would fall off its socket again if he so much as hugged you. Still, he sat next to you, legs touching, slept next to you, his hand on yours, even if you had to sleep sitting up for a couple of nights. He kissed you good night before you went to sleep, his lips lingering on your temple, his nose in your hair, taking a deep breath as if trying to memorize the way your hair smelled. His goodbye kisses before going off to work started at your forehead and had gotten closer and closer to your lips, but never got there.

You wondered if he regretted telling you what he felt, but at the same time, you were injured. Maybe he just didn’t want to hurt you. Maybe he was just taking his time to make sure you were more ready. Maybe he was just waiting for him to really be ready, seeing as he told you under the pressure of you leaving his house to give him and Jen privacy.

Either way, you were not complaining.

He was, you noticed, a bit more subdued than he usually was. More than once, you caught him with a faraway look. He sort of stared into nothingness, as if he was thinking of something deep but unwilling to share with you. He would be doing something so normal and then stopped and stared, his face devoid of expression, his eyes simply… glazing over for a few seconds before coming back to reality. But things were better, you thought, much better than that awful weekend filled with misunderstanding and… everything else.

Yeah, you thought, things were definitely better. Things’ll go back to normal soon. The two of you would be laughing and being silly with one another again. Time will heal all. Just a matter of time.

Any day now.

Surely?

Two weeks after ‘the weekend’, you were fully back at work. You didn’t need your sling anymore. Joel still slept in your bed, his hand holding yours. Come to think of it, he hadn’t slept in his own bed since you came back from the hospital. He drove you to work, came back for lunch with you, started laughing and joking around with you again, perhaps not as much as used to, but you would take anything at this point. He drove you home every evening, still buying extra food for you, which you usually finished, despite your claims that you didn’t need that much food. He took you out after dinner for walks now, his fingers laced with yours, still uncomfortable with the idea of you going running alone after your injury. He hadn’t decided if he loved you enough to go running with you yet, he joked, but maybe one day he might love you enough to follow you in his truck. Or maybe dust his Mom’s old pink bike to ride alongside you.

You were called in for a second interview at the job, and you were cautiously optimistic and hopeful. It was at that second interview that you were asked if you would be okay with being sent to other states, maybe even overseas, as there were vacancies there too. Would you be willing to further your education on a part-time basis if the company were to foot the tuition? You said yes to them all, remembering the mock interviews you did with Eric and Jake. Say yes now, negotiate later. Whatever it took to get the job.

You told Joel all this over dinner that day, and for second, a flash of fear appeared in his eyes when you told him the possibility for you to leave him for this job.

“Are you thinking of leaving? Would you take the job if they send you elsewhere?” he asked, eyes away from you.

“I don’t know yet. There is a vacancy here too, so maybe not. It all depends.”

“On what?”

“On whether or not I have a reason to stay,” you murmured before you could help yourself, busying yourself with the dishes, getting up to bring them to the sink. You turned the tap on, waited for the temperature to be just right and began soaking the plates. “You need to get a dishwasher someday,” you told him, taking the rag by the sink to wipe the table. But his hand stopped you.

“If I get one, would you stay?” he asked, his body now behind yours. Your free hand involuntarily clutched the edge of the sink, your heart beating in your mouth. He placed his hands on your waist, gently turning you around, one hand travelling up to cradle your face. “Or would this be enough?” he whispered, leaning in, brushing his lips against yours.

You gasped, eyes closing at the sensation. He continued to brush his lips against yours, nipping the corners of your mouth, your cheek, your jaw, before finally taking your lower lips between his. You would have crumpled to the floor if it wasn’t for his hands holding you up by the waist, your knees weakened by the sensation. You brought your hands up to his arms, bracing yourself, just in time as he tilted his head and slotted his perfect lips against yours, kissing you.

It was so much better than you had ever imagined. His lips were unimaginably soft against yours, his breath tickling your cheeks, his eyelashes tickling your own. He tentatively licked your lower lips, bringing a small whimper to your throat. His grasp on your waist tightened, and his kiss deepened, gently licking his way into your mouth. Your reciprocated in kind, the man lifting you up and taking you to your bed, gently laying you down, his lips still on yours.

When he finally stopped kissing you, lifting his head to look at your face, both of you had smiles on your faces, eyes brimmed with tears, both far too happy for this to finally happen. He placed his forehead on yours, “Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to do that?” he whispered, kissing the corners of your mouth, both sides of your jaws, lowering to kiss your pulse points.

“They why’d you stop?” you whimpered, your head titled back to give him easier access. He kissed his way up to your mouth again, “Because I’m an idiot,” he jested, slotting his mouth against yours once more, slipping his hands behind your back to hold your body closer to him, his hips between your legs. His kisses became more and more ferocious, his breaths heavier, yours too, your hips bucked up to meet his. He started rocking his hips to grind on yours, his erection rubbing just right on your centre. Your breath stuttered, and you dipped your hands underneath his shirt, desperate to feel his warmth, to feel more of him, moaning his name between kisses. He suddenly pulled back, looking like he was in pain.

He slipped away from between your legs, lying on his stomach next to you, his head turned towards you, telling you that you should stop. An automatic, shameful sorry escaped your lips, and he took your hand in his, kissing it, shaking his head.

“You don’t know how much I want you Daze. If only you knew. The things I want to do to you Daze, the things I have refrained from doing to others just because I was afraid I was gonna scream your name… you might be repulsed if you knew,” he said, smiling when a shy smile escaped your swollen lips. “But, I had myself tested a week back, made an appointment when we were in the ER, and I haven’t gotten my results yet. We should wait, just in case.” His happy smile was gone, an anxious chewing of his lips took its place.

“I thought you said…”

“I know… I just… I needed to be sure. Just in case. I cannot remember what happened. What if she did… and what if I pass something to you? I can’t handle that… can we just… take it slow?” his eyes were pleading, full of apologies and regret.

You leaned on your elbow and kissed him, a gentle sweep of your lips, “Of course, thank you… for thinking of me.”

He laid back, opening his arm for you to join him, and the two of you laid in each other’s embrace, finally lulled to sleep in the company of each other’s safety and comfort.

“Hey,” you greeted as you climbed into his truck a week later. Joel took your purse from you and placed it between the two of you, leaning in for a kiss. He looked flustered, nervous, worried, even. “What’s wrong?” you asked, cupping his smooth face in your hand.

He hesitated but finally lifted his body and produced an unopened envelope from his back pocket, the hospital logo clearly stamped on it. “I got my results. I haven’t opened it yet. Maybe we can open it together?”

You squeezed his hand, of course, you whispered, leaning in to kiss him. “Let’s go get something to eat, we’ll camp out in front of the TV, and then we’ll open it together okay? Whatever it says, we’ll deal with it together.”

He nodded, kissing your knuckle, a whispered thank you escaping his lips.

He went straight to the shower after you got home, as he usually did. You set up the living room the way he did when you first got there, practically laying all the blankets and pillows in the house to make it more cozy, less threatening for him. You laid out dinner from his favourite taco truck on the small coffee table and placed the envelope up front and centre. You won’t lie, you were nervous. He had been a lot more relaxed than he was three weeks ago, but he was still not himself at times. Not fully. You could tell he still had something on his mind. You didn’t have enough fingers and toes and limbs to cross, hoping that the results came out negative, perhaps he would be back to his usual self then.

When you came out of the shower, you found him sitting cross-legged in front of the coffee table, staring at the envelope. You sat next to him, placed your hand on his thigh and squeezed. He looked at you, his nerves clearly showing, took the envelope and opened it. He read the results, his expression unreadable, folded up the letter and placed it back in the envelope. You felt as if those few seconds were the longest in your life.

He got up, took Eddie’s two urns from their place on the shelf and went into his room. He came back outside without them, sat next to you and crushed his lips onto yours.

“I don’t want him seeing this,” he mumbled against your lips, his hands going under your shirt, releasing your lips for a bit to pull it off. “He loved me, sure, but there’s no way he would want to see what I’m about to do to his little sister,” he whispered, kissing your neck, nipping, licking, biting as he went.

You laughed, smacking his arm a little, before taking his shirt off too. “Good news, I take it?” you asked. “Fuck yeah!” he exclaimed, reaching behind you to take your bra off. He groaned at the sight of your naked chest, spending way too much time caressing them, palming them, studying them, sniffing them, blowing at them, all the while laughing at how much you were squirming and complaining that he wasn’t doing anything more with them. “Patience, Baby, let me see them. Been dreaming of this for so long I need to admire them before I attack them,” he teased, before wrapping his lips around one of your nipples.

Your back arched involuntarily, your eyes closing, your hand grasped the back of his head, not wanting him to pull his mouth away from it. His eyes were closed, his tongue licking, his lips suckling, a desperate moan escaping him. You whimpered when he left that nipple to switch, immediately moaning when you felt him latching onto the other one while his fingers toyed with the one he just left. His hips started grinding into your centre, emptying your mind of everything else save for the deliciousness his body was giving you. His lips found yours again, his hips still rutting his stiff manhood onto your clit. You had no idea which moans and groans were yours or his, whose hands were where, you just knew that you wanted him, and that he wanted you.

His kisses trailed down your body, stopping at your peaks to admire them one more time, licking each one before moving on to your stomach, licking and nipping at every new inch he discovered, before his hands settled onto the waistband of your sleep pants. He looked up at you, eyes searching for permission, and you nodded, suddenly shy from the inevitable.

Someone knocked on the door.

“Go away!” he yelled.

More knocks.

He took a deep, frustrated breath. The knocks got more and more aggressive, more desperate. He looked at you, looking like someone just stole his favourite toy. You laughed at the sourpuss he had on, reaching for his shirt and handed it to him, which he took after rolling his eyes.

He helped you up and handed you your shirt, stopping you from immediately putting it on, staring at your boobs for a good ten seconds, hissing through his teeth as if he was in pain before reluctantly tearing his eyes away from them, putting his shirt on. You put your shirt on just as the knocking turned into a banging, whoever it was clearly using the sides of their fists to bang on the door.

Joel opened the door, his body frozen when he saw who it was.

A woman’s hand appeared under his arm, trying to push him aside.

“No,” he quickly said, trying to shut the door. “Leave before I call the cops.”

“Joel, I need to speak to you.”

Jen.

He turned around and looked at you. You shrugged, leaving it up to him to decide. He turned his attention back to her, not opening the door further.

“What do you want?” he asked, his tone not the kindest.

“Can I please come in?”

“No. You tell me here, or you don’t tell me at all. Take it or leave it.”

“Joel, please…” she started crying. “I’m begging you.”

You could see his impatience rising. He let go of the door and Jen immediately walked in, trying to hug him. He stepped aside and pushed her off him. “Don’t touch me.”

“Joel…”

“What do you want Jen?”

She started to speak, her teary face all readied for the dramatics. You took the remote and switched the TV off. She turned and realized that you were there. Her eyes looked around the room, clocking in the romantic setting, your bra on the couch, the dishevelled state you and Joel were both in, the crumpled up pillows and blankets on the floor.

The sappiness on her face turned to anger.

“What is she doing here?”

“I live here,” you couldn’t help saying.

“Well, you should start packing. I’m moving in.”

“The fuck you are,” Joel refuted, starting to push her out. She slapped his hands off.

“Oh yes I am. Plus, how are we going to raise a baby together if she is here? We need her room for the nursery.”

Joel was stunned into silence.

Your heart dropped. There was a coldness seeping throughout your body. You couldn’t move. Joel was standing there, his face the very definition of shock.

“What the fuck are you talking about? What baby?”

She turned to him and handed him a small bag. He snatched it from her and opened it. His face turned white, he reached inside, and with trembling fingers, took out a positive pregnancy test.

She smirked, looking at you as if she had won something.

“I’m pregnant. With Joel’s baby.”

Part 7

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller x reader #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller x you #tlou fanfiction #BFF!Joel Miller

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lillaydee · 11 days ago

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I'm Right Here Part 7

BFF!Joel Miller / F Reader

Sometimes the person we've been looking for has been right there all along.

@copperhalfcent, @demonsasss, @bergamote-catsandbooks, @peelieblue @liciafonseca @ultra-nina-bella @joelmillerpascal @kirsteng42 @heartpatch @capnjaket

Let me know if you want to be tagged or removed from the tag list

SERIES MASTER LIST

Part 6

You cleared your desk for the evening, feeling the jitters that you had managed to forget for the last few hours as the clock hit 530pm.

“You okay darling?” Mrs. Adler asked, the kindly older lady giving you a sympathetic smile. You nodded, giving her one back, albeit slightly half-hearted. Jake walked out of his office then, placing his lunch box on your desk, sitting in front of you.

“Things are not better?” he asked.

You only managed a weak shake of the head and a regretful smile.

He sighed, rubbing his face.

“Don’t give up on him, darling. He’s stressed. We’ll figure this out. We’re all trying to figure this out. He’ll be alright. This is all just… new, and with the other one not cooperating, he’s frustrated… I know he shouldn’t be taking it out…” he stopped when you waved your hand at him and froze. You heard his truck approach.

You got up and collected your purse and bag, gave him a kiss on the cheek, waved Mrs Adler goodbye and walked out, taking a deep breath to brace for what was coming.

“Hi,” you said as you climbed into the truck, placing your bags on the footwell and pulling at the seatbelt. No kisses. No more. Not since last Friday. Not since Jen came charging at your door with the news big enough to implode a thousand worlds. He hummed in return, taking his foot off the brake pedal and drove out of there.

After an extremely uncomfortable 8 minutes of driving, he stopped in front of Hank’s, immediately freeing the gear and pulling the handbrake. He stopped for a moment, playing with the keys to his truck in his hands, staring at them for longer than necessary, if it was even necessary in the first place at all.

“You sure you’re up for this? We don’t have to,” you started. He heaved a huge sigh of frustration and opened his door. “Let’s just get it over with,” he said, slamming the door behind him.

You took a few extra seconds to breathe before finally leaving the truck, walking into the busy bar, locating them immediately. Joel was already at the bar, ordering drinks for the two of you. You hugged Olivia and the guys, sitting down next to Eric.

“How is he these days, Daze?” Tommy asked. The rest immediately stopped talking and focused on you, Benny keeping a watch for Joel. You were the only person they could ask. Any attempts to ask him directly had been met with hostility. Even Anita and Aunt Tina got the silent treatment the moment they asked him one too many questions last week.

“I don’t know. I don’t fucking know anything. Will you all stop?” he had frustratedly said, “She’s not answering any questions, she’s not willing to provide proof, all she talked about was moving in with me and starting a family I don’t want! And stop fucking looking at me like that!” he had ranted before telling you that the two of you were leaving, right in the middle of the family lunch. He stopped answering their calls, slammed the door in the men’s faces when they stopped by after work, even came close to punching Tommy in the face when he tried to ask his brother to answer Anita’s calls.

Thing was, they didn’t see that he was exactly the same with you, only it was worse because you lived with him. Gone were the sleepovers, the man sleeping in the living room rather than his own room or yours, buying a single mattress from Ikea to sleep on in front of the TV when the sofa gave his back an unwanted ache. He’s refusing to talk to you, refusing to touch you, refusing to do anything with you. He hardly ate, hardly slept, judging by the sounds of the TV in the middle of the night when you woke up for the bathroom. You tried to sleep with him in the living room at first, accidentally on purpose falling asleep as you watched TV, but he woke you up and instructed you to go to bed. He won’t even lift you into bed anymore, just poked you with his feet and gruffly told you to go inside.

It was as if the old Joel disappeared. The joker, the funny man, the romantic one. That charming smile disappeared overnight. Some semblance of him remained after that initial lunch weekend, but after Jen’s visit, he completely disappeared. In his place, a quiet, grumpy, ready to explode at everyone, depressed man appeared instead. He stopped shaving, staring into the void even if he was supposedly watching the TV, becoming selectively deaf to your questions. Any questions asked, even mundane ones like what to get for dinner, or if he could take you to the grocery store were answered with grunts or short answers, and even those, snappy ones. He was angry with the world, and he took it out on you.

It was immediate, the change in him. One minute he was the hungry man kissing you as if his life depended on it, the next, he was the screaming, vulnerable, panicked one who threatened to beat the living crap out of Jen if she didn’t leave right away.

Jen wasn’t exactly helping, refusing to answer his questions, insisting that they had sex despite his claims otherwise. When he started talking about paternity, she turned her attention on you, going into your room to pack your bags, screaming at you to leave, that this is her house now, that Joel needed you to be gone if he was going to be a good father, that you were in the way of an innocent child having a father and a mother, a happy family.

She screamed and threatened to report him to the cops if he didn’t do as she asked. Joel threatened the same, but she laughed in his face, asking him if anyone would believe his story, what with his reputation with women compared to her own with men. That his ex-conquests would be lining up to testify against him. That it’s time for him to receive karma for the way he had treated women all his life. Joel literally picked her up and dumped her outside, screaming and begging to be let back in. She only left the property when the neighbours threatened to call the cops on her.

So, no, things were not better. If anything, they had gotten worse. Joel withdrew further and further into himself, shutting everything and everyone outside, including you, especially you. Except, it felt worse when he did it to your face rather than just ignoring your calls.

You kept telling yourself to be patient, to be understanding. That there was a massive reason behind this change, that he was going through something unimaginable. That there was no way you could understand what was going on inside his head. But every single time he shut down in front of you, you felt your heart chip a little more. You wanted to help him. You wanted him to know you were there for him. But he was not letting you.

Everyone’s faces fell as you shook your head, playing with the hem of your blouse. But they had no time to ask for details. Joel was back, placing your drink in front of you, taking a seat, drinking his beer in complete silence. It took a lot of convincing for him to be here, and his agreement was not made clear until he actually parked in front of the bar not five minutes ago. He placed his beer back in front of him, crossed his arms on his chest, turned to Olivia and took a deep breath.

She seemed to understand his signal.

“Okay, I need you to listen until the end before you say anything. I spoke to my friend, she’s a lawyer. She could help you with the process if you choose to go down this route.”

He didn’t say anything. His eyes were still fixed on Olivia.

“You need to file a paternity petition, legally ask for a paternity test. If you do, and she is lying, which we all highly suspect, the truth will come out whether she likes it or not. She needs to prove her pregnancy with the lawyers present, meaning she had to go to the hospital and get a blood test. That pregnancy test is not valid in this case. And then you will attend a hearing and present your case. If the judge finds reason to doubt paternity, they will order her to undergo this test.”

“She’s refusing. I already asked her, first thing.”

“She is claiming you are the father and is invested in making you raise this child with her, if the judge orders her to get one, she will have no choice but to do it, or she could be charged. If you don’t do this, she could keep lying, and you will be tied to her, Joel, even if you don’t end up with her, even if the baby is not yours, if there is even a baby at all. Her unwillingness to cooperate is odd, considering how adamant she is that you raise this child with her. I don’t think she’s willing to back down that easily, she’s gone this far. At this point, going the legal route is your best option.”

“Assuming we could get the judge to agree, how long do we have to wait for a paternity test? Don’t we have to wait until the baby is born? What if she harasses Joel throughout her pregnancy?” Will asked. Joel took another drink, his eyes on focused on the water ring on his coaster.

“You can establish paternity once the pregnancy is 10 weeks these days. It’s a blood test for her, a swab in the mouth for Joel,” Olivia said. “Joel, if she is telling the truth, she should have no reason to refuse a court-ordered test. But you need to take this step. You need to file the petition to request for one.”

Joel could feel all eyes on him, his hand clutched into a fist on his thigh. You noticed. You put your hand on his, attempting to make him feel better. But he withdrew his hand from under yours and removed it from his thigh.

“What if she really is pregnant with Joel’s child? Can we do something about how the conception happened? Maybe get the cops…” Tommy started. Joel immediately got up in a huff, telling you he’s leaving. You got up with him, not willing to let him drive alone, or even be alone at all these days.

“Joel…” Tommy protested, but he simply walked off.

The next morning, you woke up for your jog as usual, the first one you will take since you got injured. Joel hadn’t taken you out on walks since that night, and your body was starting to feel sluggish. You needed to start running again sometime, and this seemed to be the perfect time. He was still sleeping on his mattress. You didn’t wake him. He was up until four last night, you were sure of it. You peeked when you went to the bathroom, you could see that his eyes were open, staring at the TV, looking but not seeing, even in the darkness. The drive home was unusually quiet and tense, even more so than usual, and you didn’t have it in you to egg him on and ask him about Olivia’s proposal.

You put your earbuds on and turned on your music. You powerwalked that first mile, wanting to get into the rhythm again, having not jogged for the past month or so. There was still a small twinge of pain on your shoulder when you started running, so you kept a leisurely pace, not wanting to aggravate it further.

You were maybe a little under two miles in when you heard a shuffle beneath all that music, and before you knew it, you were face down on the pavement. You scrambled up and took your earbuds off, coming face to face with a very angry Jen.

“What the fuck Jen?”

“Serves you right. I told you to move out. Why are you still living with him?”

“Because I live there, and you do not. I’m not moving just because you told me to. What gives you that right?”

“Joel and I are going to be married. We are having a child together. You are standing in the way of our child having a happy family!”

“So you said. Funny I didn’t hear the same sentiment from Joel!”

“That’s because you are still there, feeding him poison to make him stay away from me!”

You wanted to scratch her eyes out, squish them into slimy goo and feed them to the rats. But you held yourself.

“You know what? You’re right. Joel would absolutely love to raise this baby with you.”

Her anger seemed to dissipate slightly.

“You think so?”

“As soon as you get a paternity test.”

She rolled her eyes. “What is it about you guys and your obsession with paternity testing? Why are you so hellbent in believing I would lie to him? Trap him?”

“Because that thing a man and a woman need to do to make a baby? Yeah… your version of events is a bit sketchy. It can all go away and truth will be out, all doubts shall disappear, as soon as a paternity test is done.”

“I know my truth. And Joel knows what really happened that day, despite his claims. He’s not getting away with this. And if you were a woman, a true woman, you would bow out and give us a chance at being a family. Are you really so desperate to be with him that you are willing to break a family up?”

“I have said everything I need to say to you, Jen. Paternity test, or nothing. And if you keep this attitude up, we will not hesitate to get the law involved.”

Her smug face turned white. She got more and more desperate, shrieking at you. “Why are you even involved in this? You have nothing to do with this. This is between me and Joel, and no one else! Why can’t you just leave? This is all because of you! You’re meddling in things you shouldn’t be meddling in!”

You knew you were going nowhere with this deranged woman. You shrugged, “Well, I’m not moving out. Not until Joel asks me to.” You turned around and put your earbuds back in, tired of dealing with her.

“Oh no, you don’t!” she screamed, pulling you by the collar of your shirt. She raised a hand to hit you when a truck screeched to a halt next to you. Joel came out, screaming at you to get in the truck.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing Jen?”

“I’m just trying to secure our future, Joel. She’s in the way. She needs to go so we could plan for our baby’s arrival!” she pleaded, her demeanour shifting drastically from anger to desperation.

“Paternity test. And then we’ll talk.”

Jen’s eyes flashed towards you once more, full of anger. “This is all your fault. You couldn’t have just left, could you? You need to ruin my life? What have I ever done to you Daisy?”

Joel helped you into the truck, closing the door behind you. He walked around the truck to get in, Jen following behind.

“Joel, how could you choose her over our baby? You need to tell her to leave. We need to put our baby first. We need to get married, for the sake of our baby.”

Joel stopped abruptly, turning around, taking such aggressive steps towards Jen she shrunk back, taking desperate steps back onto the curb. “You listen to me carefully Jen. I am filing a petition with the courts for a paternity test. I’m gonna make you prove to the courts that you are indeed pregnant with my child, and if you can prove that you are, I will do what the courts tell me to do. I will only listen to them, not you. And let me make myself very, very clear here Jen. Even if I am the father, don’t you ever, EVER, think for a second that I will be with you. I don’t want you anywhere near me, let alone marry you. And if you try to force me in any way, I will press charges against you. I will walk into that police department and report you for drugging me, for assaulting me without consent, and NO!” he raised a finger in her face as she opened her mouth to protest, “I don’t care if no one believes me. I don’t care if people look at me funny. I don’t care if I get laughed at for being an assault victim. Fuck, I don’t even care if they can’t prove anything and drop the charges. Cause by then, everyone will know what you allegedly did. I will make sure of it.”

Jen stared at Joel with her eyes wide, shocked that Joel would lose it on her like that.

“Joel!” she gasped. “How could you speak to me like that?”

“I will speak to a deranged, lunatic of a woman like you however I want. You didn’t give me a choice, so I am not giving you one either. Don’t bother me again. If you know what’s good for you, I’d better not see you again until we’re in court.”

He climbed into the truck and drove off.

“Are you okay? Did she hurt you?” he snarled, not looking at you. You didn’t even get a chance to open your mouth before he started on you. “What the fuck were you thinking leaving the house without me like that? Do you even know what she could’ve done to you?”

“I’m not a child, Joel. I can take care of myself.”

“I promised Eddie I would take care of you!” he screamed.

“And you’re doing a great job at showing it!” you snapped back just as he parked with a screech in his driveway. You got out and walked into the living room, the door having been left wide open. “Wonderful way of taking care of me so far, Joel. Ignoring me, snapping at me, screaming at me. All I’m trying to do, all anyone is trying to do is to help you Joel! But I can’t, we can’t, no one can, because you refuse to talk to anyone.”

His head snapped towards you, his face the epitome of anger.

“You want me to talk? Okay,” he said, slamming the door behind him. “Let’s talk. What do you want to hear? That I feel like a fucking loser who was idiotic enough to be nice to a lonely woman who turned out to be a deranged stalker? That I let her drug me? That there is a huge possibility that she…” he stopped, swallowing, looking away, rubbing his face, “Sexually assaulted me and took what she could from me without my consent? That I couldn’t do anything to prevent it? That I don’t remember anything about it? That I might be a father to a child I already know I will hate for the rest of my life, that I’m already the definition of a deadbeat dad for not wanting to have anything to do with this child ever? That I’m thinking of ways to run? To escape? That I’m refraining myself from going over and just choking her to death so I can just live the rest of my miserable life behind bars than deal with this whole thing? That the thought of that woman doing things to me makes me feel like I want to scrub the living shit out of my skin and just… stop living? Is that what you want to hear?”

Tears were swimming in your eyes. You tried to take his hand in yours, wanting to make him feel better, but he pulled his hand away. He looked as if he was struggling from saying something, contemplating the repercussions of him saying what was on his mind, his neck taut, his jaw tight. You tried one more time, and he finally snapped.

“You think I want you touching me? You think I want any woman touching me at all? You think I would ever want to be with you, or any other woman at all after this? That I could trust anyone ever again? You think I don’t lie awake at night thinking this is my karma for never wanting to be in a relationship? That this is just what I deserve for telling the women before you that I am not interested because I was waiting for my special someone? For the woman I have been in love with since I was six? You think you want to be with me if that child is real? You want to be with a deadbeat dad who wishes he was dead or behind bars if it means he didn’t have to deal with this child? Cause if you do, then you are even more pathetic than I could ever imagine.”

You stared at this man you had known since infancy. This was not him. He’s just scared, you told yourself.

“Joel…” you said, as gently as you could. “We could get through this. Let’s just get the process started, okay? Talk to Olivia’s friend. We’ll get through this. Together.”

He huffed a laugh. “Together,” he muttered.

“Look, I know that you must feel…”

“How the fuck would you know how I feel? Huh? Have you ever been assaulted? Has anyone drugged you and taken advantage of you while you were out of it just for the sake of trapping you with a baby? Do you know what it feels like, knowing that going to the cops will only result in people laughing at you, that no one would take you seriously? Calling you a cry-baby for feeling dirty just because some lady might have had sex with you? That because you had casual sex before no one would believe you if you told the truth? That the person who did this to you could get clean away with it? And you might have to pay her child support for the next 18 years while you go on to live your miserable life? You know how that feels?”

You didn’t know what to say.

“That’s what I thought. So don’t you dare tell me you know how I must feel. Cause you don’t fucking know anything.” He walked into his room, and you could hear him rummaging about. He came back out with a duffel bag.

“I’m ending the lease. You have one month to arrange for a new place, or you could take over from me. I’ll be staying at Tommy’s until I get a new place,” he said, opening the door. “I’ll be back from time to time to get the rest of my stuff.”

You couldn’t believe your ears. “Joel… we can work through this. You don’t have to leave. We’ll look for a place together. We can move if that’s what you need to move on.”

He stopped, the open door in his hand. He turned, his expression unreadable.

“You think I want to live with you? Why? So you could do to me what Jen did?”

You felt your blood turn cold. You stared at him for a while, his eyes still devoid of any feelings.

You turned around and walked into your room, slamming the door behind you.

“Welcome to the company Miss Stevens. We are excited to have you join us. Congratulations,” your new boss offered a hand for you to shake. “It’ll take a week or so to sort your papers, but we definitely want you to join the company.”

You gave him a polite smile, excited for the opportunity. But there was a heaviness in your chest, knowing that you would go back to an empty house with no one to pop the champagne with.

“Thank you, I really appreciate this. I didn’t think I would even be considered,” you told him.

“Well, Jake Miller is an old friend of my Dad’s, and he was raving about you. And based on the interviews and the trial runs you did with us, he’s right.”

You made a mental note to get Jake the most expensive bottle of whiskey you could afford with your first pay.

“Now,” he said, taking a folder out of a drawer. “We are required to let you know the options. We sorely need people in other branches too. You could stay here in our Austin branch, of course, but there are others if you are interested to hear them? They’re all the same position.”

You nodded, just wanting to hear the options.

“Well, there’s one in Saint Paul, though the winters could get quite gnarly there in my personal opinion, and there’s another in Miami. Although I have to warn you that Miami is a very expensive city, given you are on a starting salary. Then again, so is Austin. But at least you have a good support system here already,” he said. He looked at the folder again, “There is one overseas, though I doubt you would want this one. The pay is lower, but you will get free housing, if you could call the shoebox they provide housing. It also means you would be tied to the project for a while.”

“Where is it?”

“Bangkok, Thailand.”

“How long is a while?”

“At least ten years, if not longer.”

Joel walked into the house, an empty duffel bag in his hand. Tommy came in after him with boxes. They started packing his room, Joel working as fast as he could as if his body would combust if he stayed there any longer.

“Go pack your books. I’ll settle things in here,” Tommy said, clocking his brother’s discomfort.

Joel got a couple of boxes and went into the living room, placing books in the boxes, his heart feeling a bit more relaxed now that he was out of that room. It’s been two weeks since he left you at that house, and every day was a struggle. He got the process started for the paternity petition, but the court date was weeks away. He didn’t even want to think about it anymore. He had gotten to the point where he was just surrendering to his fate, letting the chips fall where they may.

Jen did try to accost him at the building site he was working in, but Tommy managed to fend her off. The cops had to be called one time. She left before they got there.

Tommy had been understanding, keeping him busy at work to the point of exhaustion, coming home only to collapse into bed. Benny kept him informed of your well-being, he knew you got the job you had interviewed for a few days after he left. He wanted so badly to call you and congratulate you but given how he had spoken to you the last time you spoke, he didn’t think you would want to take his calls. He sent you flowers, though, he watched from afar as you received them and brought them inside.

He refrained from going to the office to see you, only going back home for clothes when he knew you were out of the house. But by God did he miss you. Oh, how he missed you. He wanted to come home, talk to you, but your face when he said those words to you kept popping in his head. The way you shut down. The way the emotions disappeared from your eyes. The way your body just went lax, as if all the energy you had to fight this battle with him, all your resolve to be strong for him, all your love and respect for him just flew out of your body. And the way you simply turned around and slammed the door behind you…

He will make up for it. He had to. He knew that. But the shame of saying what he said to you in the first place stopped him.

Fuck, how could he ever make up for what he said to you?

He heard Tommy’s phone ring, the younger man picking up. His voice went from his usual volume to a hushed, secretive one, whispering or mumbling something Joel couldn’t quite make out.

Joel placed more books in the first box, getting the second box ready to put more books in. He grabbed a few from the top shelf, the small, metal box sitting there catching his attention.

The small metal box he had kept Eddie’s ashes in.

He put that in his room, if he remembered correctly. You must’ve taken it out after he left. He searched the shelf for the ceramic jar you kept your share of the ashes in, but it wasn’t there. Did you bring it into your room?

He went to your room, stopping a while, contemplating if he should open the door. He didn’t know why, but he needed to see the jar for some reason. Or maybe he just needed an excuse to stand in your room, get a whiff of you. The essence of you that he had been missing for the past two weeks.

Your room was empty, save for the bouquet he had gotten you, left on the bed. No jar. No books. No sheets. No clothes. No suitcases. You were gone, but the traces of your perfume was still strong, lingering heavily in the air.

He ran into the bathroom, your toiletries were gone.

He ran into the kitchen. Your mug was gone.

His heart turned cold.

“Tommy!” he called out, panicked.

Tommy appeared, looking solemn, as if expecting his call.

“Did she get a new place already?”

Tommy leaned on the kitchen wall, hands in his pocket. “You can say that.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“She got the job, remember?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s in Asia. Benny and Eric just dropped her off at the airport.”

Joel felt as if his heart stopped beating.

“When does the flight leave?”

“In two hours.”

Joel jumped out of Tommy’s truck, gunning it through the crowds. He kept calling you, but you didn’t answer. Tears were pouring down his cheeks, his breath in short bursts, his heart trying not to collapse in his chest. He kept redialling, hoping to God by some miracle he would hear your phone ring and locate you amongst the sea of people around him. He ran and ran until he finally heard a faint ringing. He turned around.

There you were, standing there looking at your phone, your backpack strapped on your back.

“Daisy!” he screamed as loud as he could. You turned and saw him, the crowds stopping to look at him for a split second before moving on with their lives. He frantically dialled your number again starting to run towards you, but two burly men in uniform stopped him, telling him he’s not allowed to go where you were without a ticket. You looked at him, at your phone, and turned it off.

You took your passport and ticket from the clerk at the desk before looking at him one last time.

Joel furiously rubbed his eyes off the tears that were clouding his view of you. Beautiful, perfect you. You stared at him from afar for a few seconds before stepping inside to the international barrier, safe from him, about to board a plane that would put two oceans between the two of you.

He could only watch as you turned around and walked away to your new life, never looking back until you disappeared in the crowd.

Part 8

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller x reader #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller x you #tlou fanfiction #BFF!Joel Miller

64 notes · View notes

lillaydee · 20 days ago

Text

I'm Right Here Part 5

BFF!Joel Miller / F Reader

Sometimes the person we've been looking for has been right there all along.

@copperhalfcent, @demonsasss, @bergamote-catsandbooks, @peelieblue @liciafonseca @ultra-nina-bella @joelmillerpascal @kirsteng42 @heartpatch

Let me know if you want to be tagged or removed from the tag list

SERIES MASTER LIST

Part 4

The whole place went even quieter. You didn’t think it was possible. You could see Jen’s face light up, while Anita openly gaped at the back of Joel’s head, looking at him as if he’d gone crazy. Aunt Tina nudged her with her elbow, snapping her out of her shock. She corrected her expression to a neutral one, picking up a plate and placing it next to Joel’s.

Jen sat down, smiling at everyone, still actively avoiding your eyes. No one spoke to anyone after that. What was supposed to be a joyous, happy occasion turned to an awkward one instead. Jen fussed over Joel as if she was his designated caretaker, serving him, handing him the napkin, offering him more food. The man, in your mind, was looking like someone who was regretting his life choices. But what did you know? They probably were a couple at this point. He did, after all, spend the night at hers last night. You heart ached all of a sudden, your appetite for Anita Miller’s excellent cooking simply gone to pot.

Every time Jen simpered at whatever the fuck she found funny despite Joel not saying anything, you wanted to throw a plate her way. But who were you to do so? He must be interested in her or at least showed her that he was in one way or another. Otherwise, why would he invite her to stay? You suffered through the silence and the rest of your plate before excusing yourself, taking your plate to the kitchen.

“Who is she?” Anita’s voice interrupted your thoughts beyond the sounds of the water, her hand gently leading you to one side of the sink, handing you the rinsed plates. You didn’t even argue, simply taking them and putting them in the dishwasher.

“She was our junior I think, we ran into her last week.”

“Have they been seeing each other?” she asked, not looking at you, her voice stoic.

“I don’t know. Maybe,” you managed, trying not to let any feelings whatsoever escape from your chest.

“Well, that was awkward,” Aunt Tina interrupted, placing more plates into the sink. “What was Joel thinking? He didn’t even talk to her. Why did he ask her to stay?”

“I don’t know,” you told her, “But you should talk to her. Maybe get to know her. She’s his friend,” you said, the words tasting like vinegar in your mouth.

Even without looking, you could see Anita and Aunt Tina staring into each other’s souls.

“So… that’s his new girlfriend?” Aunt Tina hesitantly asked. Funny how you could practically see her eyeing Anita, even with your back to them. You shrugged. You couldn’t look. If you did, you would bawl your eyes out.

Aunt Tina sighed. “I guess I’ve always thought…” she stopped talking. Once more, you could see Anita stopping her with her eyes.

“So,” Anita changed the subject. “You and Eric… what’s that all about? You guys back together?”

You turned around this time, shaking your head. “No, Anita, we’re just friends. We dated ages ago, but we have remained friends. That’s all. We are friends,” you said, placing the rag you were holding on the edge of the sink and going back outside, bracing yourself for the sight you were about to see. You ran straight into Joel, who was carrying more empty plates from the table. Fuck, he looked a bit pale. Was he sweating?

“Hey, you okay?” you whispered, your hand going to his forehead, checking if he had a temperature, taking half of the plates off his hands. He gently wrapped a hand around your wrist, smiling, nodding at you. “I’m fine, just a bit of a headache. Didn’t get much sleep…”

“I’ll take care of him, Dahlia,” Jen suddenly said, suddenly appearing, holding out her empty plate at you. Joel’s head snapped towards her, “What are you doing? She’s not here to do your bidding,” he protested. “And her name, is Daisy.”

“It’s okay, Joel,” you said, placing your hand on his shoulder before taking the plate off her hand. “She’s your guest.” You didn’t miss the small smirk forming on her lips.

“Everything okay?” Anita asked, intently watching Jen, as if trying to decipher her. “Yeah,” you easily replied, going back to the kitchen. Jen asked Joel if he was going to pass the plates in his hands off to you, but Anita asked her to come outside with her, Aunt Tina quickly following. Joel followed you into the kitchen, placing the plates in the sink, rolling his sleeves to help you with the dishes.

“It’s okay, Joel, I’ve got it,” you said, gently pushing him out of the way, taking the top plate and rinsing it. He didn’t move. “Go, Jen is out there alone. You shouldn’t leave her alone like that.” You could feel your heart cracking as the words came out of your mouth.

“So is Eric, you left him alone, so why can’t I leave Jen alone?” he whispered, his eyes finding yours.

“Eric’s got Will and Tommy and Benny as company. He’s known them for years, your parents and Aunt Tina too. Jen doesn’t know anyone. You invited her here.”

“You invited Eric.”

“No I didn’t, Will did.” You promised Benny you wouldn’t tell, so you didn’t, thankful you remembered Will’s quick thinking about Eric’s sudden appearance.

He was quiet, but his eyes bored into yours, shocked at your revelation. “Why didn’t you invite him?”

“Why would I?” you asked, almost laughing at the absurdity of the question.

“I thought… The two of you went out on a romantic date. Didn’t he spend the night? I thought…”

You laughed, pushing him out of the way one more time. He relented this time, eyes still on you. “It’s not a romantic date, Joel. I told you that. He just wanted to make up for the cheap high school dates he took me on, he could afford more than a shared milkshake now, that’s all. He felt bad about how he ended things with me back then. We went out as friends. A friend-date. His truck broke down. He slept on the couch. I told him to go sleep on my bed when I left this morning. You know that couch is no good for sleeping.”

Joel closed his eyes, rubbing his temple with his hand.

“Go, it’s not nice to leave a girl alone with your family like that,” you repeated, eyes focused on the plates you were rinsing. You could not look at him. You would turn to stone. He just stood there, unmoving. “Go, Joel,” you said one more time, bumping his hips with yours.

“I didn’t invite her,” he muttered, regret clear in his eyes.

“Yes you did, I heard you.”

“I just felt bad she came all this way. I couldn’t just send her away. But I didn’t invite her over here. I have no idea why she’s here.”

“Damn Anita and Jake Miller, teaching Joel Miller manners so well he couldn’t chase a gorgeous woman away,” you teased, and his lips broke into a smile. “You took something for the headache?” He nodded. You wanted to tease him about whatever it was that he did last night to the detriment of his sleeping time but resisted. You were sure your heart would stop beating if you heard such details emerge from those supple lips.

“Daze,” he began, “Jen and I…”

“Hey Joel? Dad needs help with something. Will you come?” Tommy appeared out of nowhere, “The tree stump,” he explained. Joel nodded, looking back at you. “Talk later?”

You nodded, relieved that Tommy had come at that exact moment. You released the plate you had been clutching in your hand, shocked at how numb your fingers were from grasping it so hard. What was he going to tell you about him and Jen? He said he didn’t invite her over. But… she was here. Surely someone couldn’t be so shameless they invited themselves over? And he did invite her to stay. You heard him. Everyone heard him. Sure, he said he did it to be polite, but that didn’t change the fact that he did, in fact, invite her to stay. And he sat next to her throughout that awkward lunch.

You busied yourself with the dishes, Olivia coming in to help after a few minutes, asking you about your job search. That distracted you for a while, your mind going other places other than Joel and Jen and whatever happened between them the night before.

Once the dishes were done, though, that distraction was immediately replaced by the sounds of Jen’s cooing to Anita and Aunt Tina, dreamily regaling them the story of how Joel saved her life at the pool. How thankful she was for Joel. How brave and heroic he was. She told them how gentlemanly Joel was to come over to help her with her stairs, and how he didn’t ask for any payment in return.

“I asked him out to dinner just to pay him back, and he wouldn’t even let me pay! Your son is such a great man, Mrs Miller. You must be very proud of him. I consider myself a lucky girl he found me deserving of his company,” she had simpered, looking as if she was talking of some swashbuckling hero who rescued her from a band of pirates.

Anita and Aunt Tina was staring at her, their faces unreadable. Jen stopped talking when she saw you. Both older ladies took a deep breath when she stopped, Anita finally realizing you and Olivia standing behind them.

“Oh, Daze darling, can you go find Joel? I think it’s best if we send Jen on her way. Tell him to call her a cab, won’t you?” she asked, rubbing your arm. You saw Jen’s expression change into one of disappointment. “Oh, I’m not in a hurry,” she quickly said. Aunt Tina immediately chimed in, “We mustn’t keep you here too long. We have a lot to do. We’d invite you to stay, but it’s family stuff, you know how it is,” she told Jen, who nodded, taking more sips of her wine. You muttered something about going to find Joel, turning around to go to the stump that had been on the property for ages.

“I’ll go find Joel. I think he might want to drive me home himself,” Jen said, standing up.

“No, you sit down, Daze will find him. Livvie darling, come sit here. Did you know Jen before?” Anita countered. “Go ahead darling,” she gently coaxed you, “They’re at the stump.”

You went to the stump, now freshly upturned, the area a mess. Jake, Will, Benny and Eric were there, sweating their asses off, making plans on how best to cut it into pieces, the stump too big to move as it was. Jake told you Joel was at the shed, getting the chainsaw. You went over, just rounding the corner when you heard Tommy’s voice.

“So… we’re right? This is for real?”

“I can’t stop thinking about her, Tommy. She’s all I think about. I find myself planning my life around her. I’ve never met anyone like her. I kept waiting for something to happen to change my mind, but it’s like… she’s here and I can’t stop making plans about her. This past week has been… magical,” Joel’s voice was clear, full of emotion, sincere.

“You like her, huh?” Even without seeing Tommy’s face, you knew he was smiling at his brother, teasingly so.

“Like her? Fuck, Tommy. I think… I’m in love with her. I’ve never felt like this about anyone.”

“So tell her!”

“You’re joking, right? Why the fuck would she want me? Look at her! Look at me! She’s way out of my league!”

“Well… if you’d brush your hair every now and again… maybe shower…”

“I’m serious Tommy. Look, I don’t even know if she likes me the same way, okay? But let’s be real. What are the odds here? What if I tell her and she rejects me?”

“Come on, Joel, she won’t… it’s so obvious…”

“And then there’s the matter of…” he paused, lowering his voice a little, “You know who… I don’t know how to get rid of her. I’ve been… nice… accommodating… but I want to start my life with the woman I love and I don’t know how to tell her I’m only being polite. That I’ve only been entertaining her out of my own loneliness. That I need her to go away and leave me alone so I can be with the woman of my dreams. I just… fuck!”

There was silence. Tommy then whistled.

“Damn brother, you’ve got it bad. Just tell her. The sooner you find your balls, the faster you could be with her man. Go for it.”

Joel’s phone rang, his Mom, apparently, telling him he was needed. He and Tommy hurriedly located the chainsaw and walked out of the shed. You quickly hid behind it, waiting as Joel and Tommy walked out, Tommy yammering on and on about some game he was looking forward to watch that night.

Even after their voices long disappeared, you found yourself still frozen. You couldn’t move, your mind processing what you’d just heard.

He’s in love.

With someone he’d spent a week with.

Jen.

He wanted to spend more time with her. But someone was in the way. Someone he was polite to, someone he entertained out of loneliness. Someone who was currently overstaying her welcome, perhaps? Someone jobless who should look into moving out of his space so that he could start the rest of his life with Jen?

You felt stupid. Your mind went back to your hesitance at his invitation to stay over at his place when discussing Eddie’s death anniversary, how you were worried you might be taking his space, his freedom, his life, and yet, two weeks passed and you were still there, unashamedly living rent-free in his house. And Joel was a polite man, a gentleman. He was never going to kick you out. Of course he wouldn’t.

You wanted to laugh at yourself. Why the fuck didn’t you think of things this way? Oh, that’s right. You were too embroiled in the stupid fantasy that he might be in love with you too, that he would swoop you off your feet and declare his love for you if you waited long enough. You were so deep in that line of thought you didn’t see that you were now an unwanted guest. A ‘you-know-who’, not even important enough to be given a name.

You stopped wallowing when your face was dripping with your tears. Stupid, stubborn tears you shed from your own fantasies. Get real Daze, look at you, look at Jen. Why the fuck would someone like Joel Miller want you over her? You came to the lunch in flip flops, jeans and some old shirt that used to belong to Eddie. She came in fuck-me heels and a summer dress. She looked like someone polished her entire body top to bottom just before she got there. Everything just so, perfect in every way. You owned exactly one tube of lipstick that your roommate gave you a couple of years ago because her stupid boyfriend missed the colour chart by one number when buying it for her. Heck, you didn’t even know if that shade suited you. it was a free lipstick. So, yeah, what man would date you over her? Get over yourself.

You just felt exhausted. You wiped your face dry and got back to the house, only to find Jen still chattering away to Anita and Aunt Tina, Olivia running towards you when she spotted you. “God,” she said, “Please tell me you could drag me away from here, I cannot listen to her anymore. I mean, Joel is nice and all, but that girl just bored his own mother with stories about him. Can we please go take a walk?” she pleaded. You were about to answer when Joel appeared, Anita and Aunt Tina immediately getting up, offering their hands to a still chattering Jen, shaking it pointedly, causing her to stop mid-sentence, awkwardly getting up. Aunt Tina picked up her purse and gave it to her.

“Can you call her a cab, Joel? It’s getting late. Plus, we have more to do around here. It’s nice to meet you, Jen,” Anita said, turning around to go inside.

“Uh, actually, would you mind driving me, Joel? I’ve had a couple of glasses, I don’t feel safe taking a cab,” Jen said, eyes wide, looking at Joel.

“I don’t know… I’m not feeling very well,” he said, rubbing his temple. “I don’t think I should drive right now.”

“Please? It’s not far, please?” she coaxed. Joel sighed, finally nodding, telling her to hold on. He turned towards you and gently pulled you aside. “You’re okay to wait here a while, right? I’ll come back, we go home together? I have… things… I need to talk to you about.” His eyes searched yours, hope in them.

You felt a lump in your throat, nodding. He smiled, before leaning in and planting a quick kiss on your cheek. “Drive safe,” you managed to croak.

Jen waited for him, taking a bottled water from the side table. “Hot today,” she simpered, taking another for Joel. He walked past her, getting his keys from his pocket. You watched as the two of them got in his truck, Joel pausing to rub his neck and shoulders, probably strained from working on the stump. He wound his window down and told you one more time to wait for him – even told you to get as much leftovers as you could for dinner and possibly lunch the next day.

For a moment, as he winked at you when reversing the truck, you forgot about what you heard and felt special again.

That’s the magic of Joel Miller. He made you feel special. You should really wear one of those shock collars that would give you a jolt back to reality every time you felt your face go hot under his gaze. He probably was gonna tell you that it’s time you move out. So he could be free to date without worrying about you sleeping next door. Wake the fuck up already!

You helped the ladies clear up, chattering and laughing with them through it all. Anita packed so much food for you and Joel, even gave you some frozen focaccia dough to bake the next day, making you so happy you practically straddled the woman in your glee. You were about to steal some of her home made butter when Olivia and Will came in announcing that they were leaving.

“Everything done?” Anita asked, swatting your hand away from her precious tub of butter. “Where’s Joel?” she asked Will, taking a container to fill some butter into, smiling at your eager face.

“I thought he was here with you guys, he didn’t go back to the field. He had a headache, and I think he pulled a muscle with the stump just now. I thought he was sleeping it off or something,” Will said, grabbing the paper bag full of food Aunt Tina offered to him. You looked at your watch and realized that Joel had been gone for over two hours.

The kitchen suddenly went very quiet. All eyes were on you. You could feel it, even if you were facing the fridge, clutching the tub filled with butter.

“Maybe he went to the ER or something,” Eric’s voice filled in the silence. “Come on, Daze, I’m driving Benny home. I’ll take you too,” he offered, thanking Anita as he took the bag she had prepared for him, Benny taking his from his mother.

Anita and Aunt Tina hugged you goodbye, telling you to come over the next weekend for lunch. “You’re always welcome, remember. You’re family. So the weekend lunches involve you too now that you’re back,” they said. Aunt Tina hugged Eric a bit far too long, telling him he was too, smirking at Benny, who was now looking at everything else with interest except for his mother.

The journey home was quiet on your part. Benny was going on and on about how everyone thought Jen to be an odd duck, who comes over uninvited like that, he had wondered. Joel had better not bring her over again, no one wanted to see her, he told you, earning him a smack on the arm from Eric.

Joel’s truck was already at home when you got there, parked rather haphazardly in the middle of the driveway instead of the end of it as he usually did. Your heart went cold – oh God, was he alright? Was he that unwell? Even Eric and Benny seemed taken aback, both quickly jumping out of the truck to check on him. You got to the front door, quickly unlocking it.

Your heart filled with ice the moment you stepped inside. Eric and Benny froze. You wanted to disappear.

You heard her.

Moaning Joel’s name in sync with the squeaks of his mattress, so loud that even the closed door couldn’t contain them. Her voice rang throughout the house, straight into your crushed heart. As if that wasn’t enough, the sounds of slapping skin was ringing throughout the space, giving you whiplash, Benny gently pulling you outside, passing you to Eric, who tried to pull you into his truck. But it was as if you were superglued to the spot, your heart leaking through your eyes. Benny took the bags of food with him inside, running to the kitchen and then your room, coming back out with your smallest suitcase in record time, literally sprinting his way through the house.

Just not fast enough for you to miss the crescendo of Jen’s climaxing voice, telling Joel how big he was, how amazing he was making her feel, how lucky she was to be his.

How in love she was with him.

More sounds of slapping skin followed, and just as you thought you couldn’t take any more, you heard him, grunting and moaning before everything stopped, the house quieter than a graveyard then.

Even Benny and Eric was rooted to their spots, both eyes on you, hands gently trying to pull you outside. The door to his room opened, and Jen walked out, all pink and sweaty, wearing the shirt Joel was wearing to the lunch, shocked to see you there.

“Oh, God, did you hear us? I’m so embarrassed!” she simpered, excusing herself to the bathroom.

You watched her go with tears in your eyes, only looking away once you felt Eric’s gentle hand pulling you away one more time. Benny joined in, his hand on your shoulder, pulling the door closed behind you. The two guided a catatonic you into the truck, Benny lifting you up since your legs seemed to have ceased to function. You didn’t even question where they were taking you, riding in the back of Eric’s truck silently, tears pouring down your face all the way back to his place.

Joel opened his eyes, his head thumping, his throat dry. He felt hungover. The worst hangover he had ever experienced. He laid there, trying to gather his thoughts. What happened? Where was he? He felt as if something was off. Like he forgot something. What was it?

Fuck, his head was spinning. Was he drunk? Did he drink? He didn’t think so. He had taken some painkillers. He made a conscious decision not to drink. So why was he so hungover?

He was in his room. He at least recognized that.

Wait.

How did he get home?

Fuck, how did YOU get home? He was supposed to go back and pick you up after he dropped Jen off.

Did he drop Jen off?

He sat up, trying to minimize his movements. He needed water. Tylenol. Something. The heavy smell of coffee lingered in the air. He threw the blanket off himself, realizing for the first time that he was naked. Stark naked.

Wait. What?

He looked around the room, a bra on his dresser, a summer dress on the floor. His door creaked open, and in walked Jen, wearing only his shirt from yesterday, holding a cup of coffee in her hands.

“Morning handsome,” she cooed, coming around the bed to give him a kiss.

Joel shrunk back, covering himself with the blanket. “What are you doing in my house? In my room? In my shirt?”

Her face fell. “You don’t remember?”

“What the fuck Jen?”

She took a deep breath, depositing the coffee on his nightstand. “You drove me here. We made love. You don’t remember?” she fussed, trying to take his blanket off his lap. He pulled it back, shuffling away from her.

“How could I ‘make love’ to you when I don’t even like you?”

“Joel!” she exclaimed, shocked and hurt at his revelation.

“I’m serious Jen, what the fuck happened?”

“Well,” she said, taking his shirt off. Joel looked away, pulling the blanket with him to the other side of the bed, standing up, wrapping the blanket around his waist. “You wanted me. You were feeling me up in the car and your house was closer than mine so…”

“No,” he said, “That’s impossible. I would never do that, not with you.”

“Well, you did,” she snapped, getting up, picking up her dress off the floor, pulling it on aggressively. “And now you want to act like it didn’t happen? I guess what they say about you is right. You use women and throw them away.”

“I have been honest with you from the get-go, Jen. I told you I don’t see you that way. I do not want a relationship with you. I said yes to one dinner, and you show up at my parents’ house like some kind of stalker, and now you claim we had sex? What are you playing at?”

For a split second, her eyes flashed with malice towards him. But it quickly disappeared, replaced with sadness. “You invited me to stay, Joel. I only wanted to thank you for helping me out, for saving my life,” she said, her lips trembling. She picked up the coffee cup and handed it to him. “I made you coffee. You’re hungover. Maybe if you sober up you would remember?” she coaxed.

Joel took the cup, bringing it to his lips, but the look in Jen’s eyes as he did so made him uneasy. He left the room and drained the cup in the kitchen sink, so too the rest of the pot.

“What the fuck, Joel? Why would you do that?”

“Seriously Jen, what the fuck did you do?”

“Joel, this is your hangover talking. You’re not thinking right…”

“What hangover? I didn’t drink!”

“But you took painkillers. That could have…”

“I have taken those painkillers before. They don’t have this kind of effect. I lost an entire evening, Jen. What did you do?”

She avoided his sharp gaze, looking at her feet. “Maybe your perfect Dahlia did something to you,” she mumbled.

“Her name is Daisy!” he screamed, going to your door, knocking on it. He opened it when you didn’t answer, his eyes went straight to the open top drawer on your dresser, clocking the fact that one of your suitcases was gone.

“Come on, Joel, give me a chance. You really did seem to be enjoying yourself last night… I can be whatever and whoever you want me to be,” she tried once more, coming closer to him, raising her hands to cup his face. He slapped her hands away, checking the bathroom, the backyard, looking for any signs of you.

“I told you, Jen. I am not interested in any relationship with anyone, least of all you!” he reiterated.

“Stop lying Joel. You want Daisy. Everyone can see it. She’s not here by the way. I don’t think she’ll be back anytime soon. She didn’t seem too happy to see me here yesterday, she left with that boyfriend of hers. I think she heard us. Ask her, if you don’t believe me,” she said, smirking.

Joel felt his entire being turn cold. Fuck. Did he really have sex with this woman? And you heard them? FUCK! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!

“Get out of my house,” he seethed, going to the front door and opening it.

“How am I going to get home?”

“Not my problem. Leave. And never call me again.”

She went into his room, snatching her purse and bra, storming out. “I can’t believe I worshipped you, Joel Miller. I thought you were different from the rest. But you’re just like the rest of them. Fuck ‘em and leave ‘em huh, Joel?”

“Leave, Jen, before I lose my mind. Leave, before I hurt you,” Joel gritted, his hands shaking. She walked meekly towards the door, stopping in front of him.

“You’ll regret this, Joel. I will make sure of it,” she warned, before pulling his face down and aggressively kissing him. He pulled away from her, refraining from raising a hand to her, and slammed the door in her smirking face.

Fuck. Daisy.

He searched for his phone, dialling your number, his heart already at an unease from the fact that you did not contact him at all. No missed calls, no texts.

“Come on, Daze, pick up, pick up, please pick up.”

You stared at your phone, his name flashing on the screen. He had called you repeatedly this morning, text after text chiming in, none of which you bothered to read.

You were glad yesterday happened. Really, you were. At least you were snapped out of your stupid delusion that he might ever feel anything for you.

And to be honest, it wasn’t even that. Even if you didn’t feel anything for him, it’s the disrespect. He told you he was coming back to pick you up. Instead, he brought the woman home and fucked her, knowing he was making you wait, knowing that there was a possibility that someone would drop you off, that you could come home at any moment.

Maybe this was what he meant when he said he needed to get rid of you. So he could have a fuck-fest without you being in the way. Still, you would think he’d at least respect you enough to wait until you actually moved out before doing that. You would never disrespect him like that.

Around the tenth time he called you switched your phone off and went into the kitchen to make coffee. You had slept on the couch, dressed in a ridiculously short pair of shorts and one of Eric’s shirts, seeing as Benny only packed your underwear in his panic to get the fuck out of the sex fest that was happening in Joel’s room yesterday. Eric and Benny tried to get you to sleep in his bedroom, but you felt bad. You were imposing. Eric’s apartment was a one bedroom, so on the couch you stayed. At least his couch was a nice one. No lumps. And unlike a certain someone, Eric and Benny were respectful enough not to make loud, lewd noises while you were in the living room. See? It’s nice to know some people have the common sense to be respectful.

You had just put the pot on, looking at the contents in the fridge to see what Eric had available for breakfast when someone banged on the front door. Eric’s bedroom door flung open, he staggered out looking dishevelled, disorientated as fuck, wobbling over to the front door in his boxers.

“Where is she?” Joel’s voice barged into the small home.

“Morning to you too, Joel.”

“Where is she Eric? I know she’s here. Daze!”

You peeked into the living room, confused as fuck. Oh shit, he looked horrible. Did he even sleep? Was he hungover? Too much sex perhaps?

Joel stopped when he saw you, his eyes roved all over your body, taking in what you were wearing, turning around to see what Eric was wearing. His eyes flashed with anger, starting towards Eric.

“Did you fuck her?”

Eric looked scandalized, but remembering what he heard from the living room yesterday, the tears in your eyes, the look on your face made him angry. “So what if I did? At least I’m not some desperate, crazy, shameless stalker!”

Joel turned to look at you. You avoided his gaze, your heart aching at the memory of what you heard.

“Go home to your stalker, Joel. Leave Daze alone. She’ll be fine here. At least no one would disrespect her here,” Eric seethed, reaching for the door.

Before he could even swing the door open, Joel had pulled him away from the door and punched him squarely in the face, knocking him onto his back. Before he could even register what happened, Joel had straddled his torso, beating the crap out of him.

Part 6

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller x reader #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller x you #tlou fanfiction #BFF!Joel Miller

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lillaydee · 1 month ago

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I'm Right Here Part 3

BFF!Joel Miller / F Reader

Sometimes the person we've been looking for has been right there all along.

@copperhalfcent, @demonsasss, @bergamote-catsandbooks, @peelieblue @liciafonseca @ultra-nina-bella @joelmillerpascal

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SERIES MASTER LIST

Part 2

Jen didn’t stop talking during the hour she was with Joel, telling him everything and anything she could about herself, and how she had always thought he was cute, even in high school. She never thought he would ever notice her, though, she’s pinching herself that she’s having drinks with THE Joel Miller. She’d always wondered what happened to him. So, what had he been up to these days?

Joel wasn’t listening though. He was straight up looking at you and Eric, not even bothering to hide it. His fingers holding the neck of his beer up in front of his chest, basically doing what he always did when he was chaperoning your dates in high school. It used to drive his dates crazy. He kept telling himself he was simply looking out for you, keeping a promise he’d made to Eddie all those years ago. He watched as Eric talked, watched as you listened, looking interested, sometimes concerned, your hands rubbing his arm, his shoulder, his knee. He watched as your serious face turned smiley, and then giggly, and then full on belly laughing, clutching on to Eric, who was not at all awkward about steadying you by the waist.

Though his heart clenched at how comfortable you were with Eric, he smiled a little when he saw you laugh. He loved seeing you laugh. Despite everything you went through, you still managed to laugh. Your laughs were his favourite sound to hear, his favourite thing to watch. You laughed with your whole body, your eyes practically shut, your entire body shaking. He especially loved it when you laughed so much you snorted, fighting to let in a breath, your eyes watering. Every time you did, he would lose all control and started laughing with you. Heck, he used to find you every time he felt a bit down, knowing that at the first sign of a belly laugh from you, his worries would simply disappear.

He watched as Will and Dave joined the two of you at the bar, watched as you explain something to the two of them, making them laugh as well, their laughter ringing through the noisy establishment. He watched as Dave turned to look at Lucy who was gagging to be let in on the joke, the four of you joining her and Liv at the booth, you repeating the story and all of them practically weeping with laughter, bodies weak, Lucy laughing so much she almost slid off the vinyl seat, which prompted an even bigger laugh from everyone.

“Joel?”

Joel’s attention turned back to Jen, “Sorry, what?”

Jen turned around to see what he had been looking at.

“They all look familiar. I remember that lady from yesterday, her name is Dahlia, right?”

“Daisy.”

“Right, I just remember it’s a flower. And the letter D, of course.”

“How did you know her?”

“She’s always with you, right? She has a brother? A twin?”

“Had. He passed.”

“Oh, that sucks. So sorry to hear that. What about everyone else? Who are they?”

“Oh, just some people from my class. We’re having a little impromptu thing. I should rejoin them.”

“Oh,” Jen said, “I’m from that high school too, can I join you guys?”

“Uh…” Joel hesitated, “Maybe that’s not a good idea…”

“Oh…” she said, failing terribly at hiding her disappointment. “Okay, uhm… can I have your number? Would love to see you again.”

Joel hesitated, yet again. Jen quickly back tracking, “No… silly me. We hardly know each other. Well, thank you for the drink, Joel, hope to see you around town.” She stood up, stopping for a moment, as if waiting for him to stop her, her face falling slightly when he didn’t, and left.

Despite feeling so bad for not entertaining Jen when he had agreed to have a drink with her, Joel heaved a heavy sigh of relief. Here was this beautiful woman who was very clearly interested in him, but he couldn’t find it in himself to pay much attention to her. His mind was focused on you. He hadn’t wanted to leave you here, to be honest. He wanted to stay, just to make sure you were alright. Eric was a nice guy back in high school, but what if growing older made him a creep? There was also the fact that the two of you broke up so suddenly – everything was fine and dandy, you two always had a great time during your dates from what he saw. Eric might have even snuck in a kiss or two before he managed to intervene. But one day you told him that Eric had broken up with you. Just like that. Wouldn’t tell him why. You looked broken up, but at peace with it. He didn’t even know if you and Eric broke up on good terms. So when he saw Eric there, his guard went up. He told you he wanted to go home so that you would have an excuse to leave, just in case you were not comfortable with seeing him again. But you didn’t catch on, and Eric volunteered to drive you home. What if he tried something with you when alone in his car in the dark of night? No… his heart couldn’t take it. But it would look stupid for him to stay since he had told you he was tired. Jen gave him the perfect opportunity to stay, not that he was interested in anything she had to say.

Your eyes turned towards him, noticing that he was now alone. You beckoned him over, sliding further into the booth, patting the seat next to you. Joel never thought he could move that fast. Despite his initial feelings for Eric joining you, he knew he would never let a chance to spend time with you go by. He sat next to you, and suddenly all the worries in his heart was over.

“I thought you were going home?” you asked him later, when others were distracted.

“I was.”

“Saw you with Jen. Why didn’t you ask her to join us?”

He shook his head, “I don’t know. Just didn’t feel right.”

“So Eric doesn’t have to drive me home?”

Joel smiled, “I mean, he can, if he wants to, or if you would prefer he drive you home. But I can take you home too. It’s up to you.”

He leaned back and placed his arm on the backrest behind you, the two of you basically talking about the plans for when his parents came back to town. You were talking about getting a bottle of wine and some flowers for them, a thank you, for inviting you to their home and welcoming you into their company, even if for a little while.

“You’re always welcome, you know that,” he said, promising he will take you to town the next day so you could pick a bottle, and maybe look for dessert. You insisted that the two of you be there early so you could help his Mama with the cooking, and he laughed. As if his Mama would ever let anyone help her cook.

“Oh, she will let me. She loves me,” you joked, rapidly blinking your eyes at him.

He didn’t say anything, just sat there and watched you, a strange smile on his face.

It suddenly struck the two of you how quiet the table was. You looked around the table, everyone was just staring at you and Joel, their hands on their cheeks, just smiling at the sight they were seeing.

“What?” you asked.

Will took a deep breath. “Are you sure the two of you aren’t together?”

“Okay, I’ve had enough. You need to explain this to me,” you said, putting your drink down. You turned to Joel, who had the exact same expression you imagined yourself having. “Why do you guys keep saying that?” you turned to Eric, who had a sly smile on his face.

“You guys don’t know?” Lucy asked.

“If we do, we wouldn’t be asking this, would we?”

“Well,” Eric said, that smile still on his face. “The three of you were always together. And you and Eddie,” he said, pointing at Joel, “Treated this one like a princess. You broke up with girls for being mean to her. All your exes were jealous of her. They claimed that you never shut up about her.”

“Oh yeah, tell me about it,” Suzie chimed in from the next table, turning her chair around. “Joel, I love you, in a platonic way now, but back then you wouldn’t stop talking about her. I never did anything bad to you, right Daze?”

You shook your head. Suzie was one of the nicer ones – the non bimbo of his exes.

“And still, you broke up with me because I asked that you maybe don’t talk about her throughout our dates.”

“I didn’t do that,” Joel defended himself.

“Oh my God,” she countered. “We’d go get ice cream and you’d talk about Daze’s favourite. We’d get pizza and you’d talk about Daze’s obsession with pineapples on pizzas. Anything we talked about would turn into something about Daze.”

Joel frowned, “Well… she’s one of my closest friends, we’ve known each other since infancy. Of course I talk about her.”

“Yeah… you didn’t talk about Eddie though…” Suzie mumbled, making Will laugh.

“So we are close, doesn’t mean we should be together,” you protested.

“We just figured you guys were crushing on each other,” Dave said, Lucy nodding.

“Why would you think that? I don’t talk about Joel,” you questioned. Eric snorted, spraying beer all over your sleeve.

“What?”

Eric wiped his face, apologizing for your sleeve, but refused to say anything, despite your pleas. You looked at him in disbelief. “Was Joel the reason you broke up with me?” Eric looked at you with a regretful smile, “You know why I broke up with you Daze, I told you. And it wasn’t Joel.” You nodded, knowing what he was talking about.

“Oh my God!” Lucy shrieked, hand on her belly. The baby kicked. And just like that, everyone forgot what the discussion was about and talks quickly turned into babies and families.

“So, what was the reason you and Eric broke up?” Joel asked as he backed out of his parking spot.

“Oh, it’s kinda private. I don’t know if I should tell you. I mean, to my knowledge he hasn’t told anyone, so I’d better not. Maybe one day when I know he would be comfortable with me sharing.”

He nodded.

“So? How was your first date with Jen?” you asked.

“What first date? I agreed to a drink. Still didn’t give her my number.”

“What? Why not? You were all ‘I wanna go home, I’m tired’ and then the tiredness magically disappeared when she walked in and you were having a drink with her and you didn’t even give her your number?”

Joel didn’t answer.

“She looked like she was nice, friendly. Why didn’t you give her your number?”

He shrugged. “What about you and Eric? You gonna see him again?”

“I guess, we’re in the same town, we have each other’s numbers.”

You might have imagined it, but his grasp on the steering wheel tightened.

“I remember you being a bit subdued when you two broke up. You sure you’re okay being in touch with him again?”

“Yes Joel, I’m okay. We’re friends. We broke up amicably.”

“He never hurt you? Touched you inappropriately? Put his hands on you?”

“Oh my God Joel, you think I’d let a man do that to me?”

“No,” he said, rather defensively. “Just looking out.”

“Well, I’m a big girl now. And my past taught me to never let a man do that to me ever again. You don’t have to look out for me, Joel.”

“I can’t help it,” he mumbled. “You want to get something before we go home?”

“Nah, I’m good.”

That night, as you laid in bed, you couldn’t help but regret your faux disappointment at the fact that Joel didn’t get Jen’s number. It’s only been a few days living under the same roof as him, and all those few days had done was prove to you that the supposed crush you had for Joel was not supposed at all. You could not deny the way your heart almost soared at the fact that Joel made excuses to go home once Eric showed up. A small part of you, as childish as it may have been, imagined (or maybe hoped?) that it was out of jealousy. All that talk of him talking about you with all his exes – to the point that they got jealous of the attention he was giving you – somehow wormed an idea into your head. Was it possible that he had seen you as more than Eddie’s twin sister? Could it be that he had been crushing on you too? Crushing so hard that people saw it? They all thought you had harboured a crush on him, which was true. Did they see the same signs from him as they did from you?

As much as it would hurt you to discover this was all in your vapid, silly little brain, you couldn’t help but hope. He was the one who begged you to stay with him. He went all out to prepare the place for you. He planned these few days to ensure the two of you spent as much time together as you could. He invited you to snuggle with him when you cried. It wasn’t as if the two of you spent your time with Eddie all those years ago snuggling. This was new. Since Eddie left. Or was he just being nice?

You couldn’t deny that Jen was a knockout. Drop dead gorgeous. And she seemed… sweet. Just the kind of woman he used to date. The kind who would worship him. You could still feel that spot in your stomach where your heart dropped when you first saw their interaction at the zoo. Your jealousy meter went up to red alert. You were secretly relieved that he didn’t entertain her, despite your lame attempts to encourage it. But when you saw him sit down for a drink with her tonight, your heart sank to that spot again. It took everything in you to focus on Eric. It was lucky for you that Eric was actually good company, making you laugh. And when you noticed Joel was alone again, you felt a sense of relief you couldn’t even describe. He didn’t go home with her. And when he made it clear that he didn’t ask her to join the table, you heart swelled slightly, and when he told you he didn’t ask for her number, your heart soared. That vapid, silly little girl in you couldn’t help but hope. Was it possible that he didn’t entertain Jen because he was hoping for something to happen with you?

You scoffed at yourself. Who the fuck were you kidding? The work week was starting, and when the two of you settled into a normal life routine, your silly little crush would go away. When Joel is no longer free from work and begins his daily routine as a single, supremely good looking man again, when he goes out for drinks after work or go on dates, this fog would be lifted from your eyes and you will see sense.

Surely you would?

The work week made it impossibly harder for you to forget this stupid crush you had on him. The weekend before the work week should have already told you it was going to be a disaster, if you were being honest. He mowed the lawn, music in his ears, looking like sex on legs with his sweatpants and old beater of a t-shirt, his curls sticking to his forehead. When you offered him a glass of ice cold water, he drank it all in one go right in front of you, his Adam’s Apple bobbing as his sweat ran down his neck, looking so fucking manly it should be illegal. He fought you over doing the laundry – you had asked for his so that you wouldn’t waste energy, but he insisted that he would do your along with his. You won, and as a compromise, he hoovered the entire house, your room included.

That first Monday, you came home from your run to a house smelling like coffee and eggs and whatever protein he chose to make you for breakfast. The two of you had breakfast together, and he drove you to work, walking you into the office and introduced you to everyone. He even insisted someone got you a better chair – he didn’t like how wobbly the tires were on the one that came with your little desk. He came by the office to pick you up for lunch – a celebration, he said, a welcome to the company meal. That got Mrs Adler, the secretary looking at you with a knowing smile, and of course your love-struck mind attributed it to him having a secret crush on you that she was somehow in the know of all along. He picked you up after work, and the two of you cooked for dinner, eating together, talking about your days, plans for the next day, the likes. You fell asleep watching a movie and woke up the next morning in your own bed, smiling at the idea that he had carried you to your room.

The two of you went grocery shopping after work Wednesday, him pushing the cart and you placing items in it, heads together as you contemplated what to buy for the next few days. He helped you pick a wine for his parents’ lunch that weekend, waited as you placed an order for dessert to be collected for the occasion.

When you came home from work that Thursday evening, you knew how deep a hole you were in. That crush you thought you had was now quickly affected by the domesticity of the last few days. Oh, and that welcome to the company lunch that apparently was only ever offered to you? It was a daily thing. Just the two of you having a sandwich at the little shop around the corner. And somehow, the two of you sat closer and closer together on the couch as the days went by.

Fuck. You were falling for him, weren’t you?

That night after dinner, Joel put on a movie as usual, sitting even closer to you than the night before. So close you could smell his shampoo. It took all the willpower in you not to just put your nose to his hair and smell it. You needed to keep the act up. Joel was basically all you had left of Eddie. You couldn’t spoil this. Just because you mind hoped that he felt the same way about you, didn’t mean that he did.

His phone rang not five minutes into the movie. He frowned at the screen, showing you an unsaved number.

“Hello?”

“Joel? Is that you? It’s me, Jen.”

Joel sat up straight. “Jen?”

Your heart stopped. It actually stopped.

He got up and went outside, taking his smokes with him.

“How did you get this number?” he asked as he shut the door. You could see him light a cigarette through the curtains, talking in a hesitant, low tone.

Fuck.

Your own phone rang. Eric. Oh thank God. At least you wouldn’t be spending the next few minutes obsessing over Joel and his phone call with Jen.

“Yellow.”

“Yellow. Whatcha doooin?”

“Watching a movie. Why?”

“I’ve been thinking.”

“You can do that?”

“Shut up you goose,” he protested as you laughed out loud. “I’ve just had a thought – you know how we were too poor to even go for pizza back when we were dating?”

“Uh… we were in school.”

“I know. But I wanted you to know that I’d always felt horrible that our dates were restricted to a shared single scoop ice cream or soda. So, now that we’re all grown up, I want to take you out on a do-over date. One you deserve. Please? Tomorrow? I’ll buy you flowers and everything.”

You frowned, “What’s going on Eric?”

He took a deep breath, “I’ve always felt bad about how things ended with us. And you know… things were awkward for a while, even when we said we would stay friends, and then before I knew it high school was over and we went our separate ways. I’ve always wanted to do this. Please? Give an old friend some peace of mind?”

“How much do I deserve exactly? Like what do I wear?”

“Nice dress. Heels. Make up. The whole shebang baby. Gonna treat you like the queen you are.”

“And this date will be tomorrow? How exactly did you get a reservation of this level this late?”

“I know people. Please Daze? Say yes?”

“Let me confirm something first okay? Let you know in a couple of hours?”

“Okay. Not a total rejection. I can live with that. Let me know okay?”

“Kay. Later.”

You hung up just as Joel came back inside.

“How did you get this number?” Joel asked as he exited the front door, lighting a cigarette. He heard your phone ring, peeking through the curtains to see you talking to someone with a huge smile on your face. And then you laughed, and he couldn’t help wonder who you were talking to.

“I hope you don’t mind, but it turned out you did a job for my landlady last year and well, my rickety stairs just gave out. She gave me your number. Said she had your card.”

“Oh. Uhm… how did the stairs give out?”

“It’s always creaked, but a few minutes ago I came downstairs and something cracked and the whole portion just hang loose now. I can’t go back upstairs.”

“Well… I can’t exactly come in tonight… I don’t have my tools. They’re at the office.”

“Please Joel? I don’t know who else to call. I need to get back upstairs. I can’t go to work tomorrow if I don’t. And my boss is a douche and will fire me if I don’t make it to work. I need this job Joel. Please.”

Something in his heart softened. Much as he didn’t want to leave your company, Jen’s pleas got to him.

“Okay, where do you live?”

She gave him her address, about a twenty minutes’ drive from his place. He told her he could go take a look, but he couldn’t promise anything, since he only had basic tools for the night. She told him she would be okay with that, thanking him for taking time out of his rest time for her. He hung up, going back inside.

“Were you on the phone?” he asked you, noticing that you had just hung up too.

“Yeah, Eric called to ask if he could take me out tomorrow. I wanted to ask if we had plans?”

Joel’s heart dropped to his stomach when he heard your answer. He went into his room and changed his pants, leaving the door slightly cracked.

“Wow, like a date?” he asked, heart thundering, hoping you’d say no.

“Sort of. To make up for the break up and all the supposedly cheap ice cream dates he took me on,” you told him, waiting to see if he reacted poorly to that bit of news, still stupidly hoping that he might at least tell you to say no, that he had plans for the two of you.

Joel closed his eyes at the information, rubbing his face, willing himself not to react negatively. “Well, that sounds like fun. You should go. I don’t have anything planned yet,” he said, coming out of his room with his jeans on, taking his keys out of the bowl next to the TV.

“Where are you going?”

“To Jen’s, she had some emergency she needed my help with.”

“Oh. Well, okay, careful driving,” you said, hiding your disappointment, as well as the boulder that suddenly made it’s way into the pit of your stomach.

He stood in front of the door for a bit, looking contemplative, his mouth opening and closing as if trying to say something to you, but ultimately, he nodded and left.

You sat there unmoving for a few minutes, trying to digest what just happened. He had been so reluctant to give his number to her, twice, and yet when she called, he just went running? You scoffed at yourself. Silly woman. Of course he would. He was just a man after all. A good looking one at that. Of course he would go for a Jen. Not a Daisy. Especially not the Daisy who made him eat uncooked muffins cause the Easy-Bake Oven she found in her garage wouldn’t work properly.

You needed to get over yourself and get on with your life. If you were going to stay in Austin you couldn’t simply live your life waiting around for Joel to come up with plans for the two of you. You needed to make friends, have a social life. Maybe you’ll meet someone new, maybe you’ll get a job and move out, and then this silly crush on Joel Miller would be a thing of the past.

Maybe.

So you texted Eric – yes. To dinner. Tomorrow.

Great, he texted back, almost immediately. Pick you up at 630. Can’t wait.

Joel’s twenty minutes’ drive was a distracted one. Eric had asked you out. Just as he feared. He didn’t have a problem with Eric, of course. He was a nice guy. But there was a resignation in his heart when he heard that he had asked you out. Eric went to MIT. He was an engineer for a prominent oil and gas company now. Sure, a young one, but an engineer none the less. A good looking one at that. One you used to date. One you used to kiss. One who could definitely, even with his starting salary, afford to take you to much nicer places than he ever could.

And why shouldn’t he, Joel thought. You were going to be an accountant. Surely you deserve someone like Eric. Someone more of your level. Not someone as uneducated such as himself whose body ached, whose hands have become way too rough for his age from hard, physical labour for a much lower wage. He should be happy for you. Eddie would have supported you dating Eric. He was the only one Eddie didn’t have a problem with. When Eric broke up with you, Joel remembered wanting to punch his face in for breaking your heart. But Eddie told him not to, telling him Eric must have had a good reason. Eric was a nice guy. He wasn’t a player. He didn’t date anyone else after you, at least, not in high school. So Joel let him be.

A knock on his window snapped him out of his own mind, Jen standing outside. He hadn’t realized it but he had arrived at Jen’s. He reluctantly grabbed his toolbox from the back seat and went inside, Jen chattering nervously as she showed him the problem. It was an old house, the middle section separating the two different levels of the staircase had come lose, basically hanging off the wall. The metal plates joining the section to the other two had come off, now on the floor, the screws broken clean into two pieces. He searched his toolbox for similar screws, screwed the plates back on, and got up to leave. Jen was chattering the entire time, holding her dress robe closed in front of her.

“That should do it,” Joel told her, starting towards the door to leave.

“That’s it? That was quick! Oh I feel so silly!”

“No worries. Happens with old screws sometimes. Wear and tear. Well, good night.”

“Wait, how much do I owe you?” she said, grabbing her purse. Her dress robe fell open, revealing a skimpy pair of shorts and a thin, white tank top. Joel turned the other way, telling her she didn’t have to pay. It was nothing.

“Oh come on,” she said, coming closer, robe still open. “You came all this way. At least let me get you a drink.”

“No, that’s alright. I should get going. It’s late.”

“Come on, Joel. I just want to thank you. Can I at least buy you dinner?”

“No, really, it’s okay,” he insisted, starting to close the door. She stopped it, “Well, you have my number now. Call me if you change your mind, okay?”

He nodded, leaving immediately. But he couldn’t bring himself to drive home immediately, his heart still heavy at the prospect of you and Eric going out on a date. He was worried that he might show his true feelings to you, blurt something out and lose you as a friend. So he drove to the spot he used to hang out at with Eddie and laid in the bed of his truck until he knew for sure you would be asleep.

Joel was quiet the next day. He asked if you were in fact going out with Eric that day, and once you confirmed it, didn’t say much during breakfast or the drive over to the office. He told you he couldn’t come over for lunch that day, busy day at work, he might not have the time. You nodded, smiling before you exited his truck, waving as he reversed and left. A huge part of you wondered if something happened with Jen the night before. He came home late and only answered in short replies when you asked about the emergency. And if you were being honest with yourself, you didn’t really want to know the answer. The drive home was also quiet, and not the comfortable silence you were used to - more an awkwardly charged one. It was as if neither of you dared say a word, lest you spontaneously combust.

Joel kept to his bedroom from the moment you two got back, unwilling to see you go out on a date with the perfect man, one who was definitely not him, one who was way more superior than he would ever be. He fell asleep for a few minutes, absent mindedly going out to get a glass of water when he woke up, forgetting about your date. He opened his bedroom door to Eric, dressed smartly in a suit, handing over a huge bouquet of daisies to you.

Breathtakingly beautiful, dressed up you, looking like a fairytale in your beautiful dress.

Joel had to compose himself.

“Wow Daze,” he said, swallowing his emotions. “You look gorgeous.”

You smiled shyly, realizing you had never dressed like this in his company. It was the only fancy dress you owned, Eddie had gifted it to you for an award ceremony at college. You had won an award, and was planning not to go to the ceremony since you didn’t really have anything suitable to wear. He wouldn’t hear it, buying the dress for you when he visited for your birthday. You didn’t even end up going to the ceremony. You went to his funeral instead.

“Ready to go?” Eric asked, looking so handsome in his suit.

You looked at Joel, “I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Have fun!” he cheered, going to the door with you, his lips locked in a smile which immediately morphed into a trembling effort not to cry as soon as Eric pulled out of his driveway in his newer, shiny, much better truck that made his truck look like a dumpster fire.

Be happy for her, Joel, he told himself. She deserves this.

He went into the kitchen, opening his freezer, contemplating whether to have frozen pizza or burgers for dinner, his heart heavy at the thought of eating alone after a week of having you as dinner company.

His phone rang.

“Joel? It’s Jen. I was wondering if you had thought of my offer to buy you dinner some more? I really must insist Joel. I feel bad for taking your time last night.”

Joel opened his mouth to say no. But the idea of eating microwaveable food at home alone while you were out on a fancy date with Eric was too much to bear. He couldn’t stay at home and wallow in his sorrows like this. His eyes landed on the bottle of whiskey on his shelf. What if he lost it and ended up in a drunken, self-pitying stupor? Only God knows what he could accidentally say to you if you came home to a drunken him, and that was not something he would ever want you to see.

“Okay.”

“Yeah? Oh, thank you! Pizza okay?”

“Sure. Pick you up in 30 minutes.”

Part 4

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller x reader #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller x you #tlou fanfiction #BFF!Joel Miller

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lillaydee · 1 day ago

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I'm Right Here Part 9

BFF!Joel Miller / F Reader

Sometimes the person we've been looking for has been right there all along.

@copperhalfcent, @demonsasss, @bergamote-catsandbooks, @peelieblue @liciafonseca @ultra-nina-bella @joelmillerpascal @kirsteng42 @heartpatch @capnjaket

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SERIES MASTER LIST

Part 8

That first week after you left for Bangkok was a chaotic one. Everyone was on edge. Benny and Eric were questioned over and over again about what happened at the airport. Short of being tied to chairs and having spotlights shone in their eyes, they were effectively interrogated. Why didn’t you stop her? You should’ve begged harder, pleaded for your lives, threatened her, stolen her bag, picked her up and thrown her back into the truck. Anything. You should’ve made her stay.

Anita and Aunt Tina started researching plane tickets. They found out where the branch for the company was and got maps of Bangkok to study, determined to wait for you at the office entrance until you saw sense. It took a lot of convincing from Jake to stop them. The girl just left the country to escape this town. The two of you hounding her like that would only scare her further.

Calls went unanswered. Texts undelivered. Olivia ended up emailing you. You did reply, but it was obvious you were reluctant to communicate. Anita and Aunt Tina immediately took email classes from a young boy living a few houses over, wanting to email you as well. If that’s the only way you were communicating, they were not going to miss out on that. Their earnestness seemed to get to you, and before the week was out, you texted them both with your new number. And soon, everyone was back in contact with you, trying their hardest to get you to reconsider, to come back. Joel needed you, and they knew for a fact that you needed him too.

***Warning - Sexual Assault***

Joel went back to the house he shared with you after coming back disappointed from the airport, shut the door and did not leave for a week. Didn’t answer his phone, didn’t go to work. He spent that week lying in your bed, mourning you, his face buried in your pillows, trying to get whatever’s left of you to calm himself down with. He tried to do what Olivia did. He tried to email you and later, text you. But the words he tried typing out made his fingers numb, his throat tight.

How would one apologize for everything he said to you?

He couldn’t get the way you looked at him at the airport out of his head. There was such heaviness in your eyes. Such sadness in them. Your shoulders sagged, as if there was no will left in you to go on. He could feel your grief from afar, even through his tears. The grief for Eddie’s passing. The grief for the loss of your friendship with him – the one connection to Eddie you had left, the one person who knew Eddie as well as you did, if not better. The grief of having to be alone simply to have some semblance of a peace of mind. The knowledge that he put that sadness and grief in your eyes made him feel hopeless for the kind of man he had become. He was angry with himself. This was not him. He hated this version of himself.

He wanted to make it up to you. Go after you. Beg you to give him another chance. Make things right with you. Start a life with you. You’re everything he had ever wanted. But he knew, despite what other people, yourself included thought, he knew he needed help. He just… needed time to process this whole thing. He didn’t know what’s what anymore. He didn’t have the answers to any of the questions in his head.

He felt dirty. Humiliated. Embarrassed. Infected. Contaminated. Gross. Disturbed. Impure.

Weak. Weak. Weak.

How could he have let this happen? He was a man. A horse of a man. Strong. Reliable. Masculine. How could he let a woman like Jen get to him like that? He felt as if he was drowning in a sea of shame and he was doing everything he could to stay afloat but failed. He hung on to you during that time, but found himself losing grip every now and again, images of Jen in his room in his shirt invading his thoughts. He tried so hard to remember what happened. Did he… participate? Did they have sex? He couldn’t even step into his room anymore, not without thinking of Jen and what might have happened in there. Eventually, even looking at the door of his bedroom brought him to that time. His frustrations got bigger and bigger, and it eventually blew up on you.

He had woken up that morning to find you gone. All he could think of was Jen might have done something to you, had gotten to you and hurt you. His hands shook when he saw Jen getting on top of you by the roadside that day. He realized that you were not safe as long as you were with him. Jen would do anything to get you out of his life. Any rationality he might have left flew out the window and he unloaded on you.

You. The one person he needed to feel sane again. The one person he knew could bring him out of the fog he was in. The one person who made him feel safe.

And he said what he said. To you.

He couldn’t even bring himself to tell Tommy what he said to you. He couldn’t even bring himself to face you to say how sorry he was for saying them. He couldn’t even look at your name on his phone.

A week after you’d left, Joel went to bed to find your comforting scent gone from your pillows. He could only smell himself on it. He tossed and turned all night, only managing to fall asleep as the first birds started chirping outside the window.

He started taking measures to sleep then. A few sips here and there a couple of hours before bedtime. And when that didn’t work, a few glasses. Before the second week of you being gone was out, he was half a bottle in before bedtime, and by the third week, he was going through an entire bottle a day, maybe a few pills here and there, just to help him settle for the night.

He dreamt of you one night. You didn’t say anything to him. Just looked at him, tears in your eyes. He woke up feeling as if he had failed you massively. He realized how close he was to losing a grip on reality. He needed to see you. Beg you for forgiveness. Do anything to have you back in his life.

But how? An email seemed futile. A phone call wasn’t enough, much less a text. He needed to see you.

He booked himself a flight to Bangkok. He will go over. See you in person. Get on his knees and beg you to forgive him. He’ll migrate if that’s what it took for you to take him back. Leave this town. Start fresh. With you.

Maybe the miles and the couple of seas between would get him out of the fog that was Jen. Fuck the trial. Fuck the possibility of being a deadbeat dad. Fuck everything else. He will face whatever fallout that comes, he just needed to get things right with you first. Nothing else mattered at this point. You. You were the only one who mattered.

The day before his flight, he couldn’t sleep again. Maybe it was his nerves. Maybe it was his fucked up sleep schedule. Maybe it was the excitement of seeing you again. He took some pills and downed two fingers of whiskey to wash them down with. He fell into a deep sleep, his bags packed and ready to go see you the next day.

You were kissing him. You peppered kisses on his body, from his lips to his crotch. You went down on him. He was floating on air. Your sweet mouth on his tip, your tongue lavishing its attention on him. His body arched from the sensation. You felt incredible. You took him deeper and deeper into your mouth, your fingers scratching his belly as you bobbed up and down on him. He was on top of the world, about to crest when you moaned his name.

Only it wasn’t your voice.

His eyes flew open. He was dreaming. Only it wasn’t a dream. Someone was in the room with him, going down on him. Everything came back to him like a freight train. He switched the light only to find Jen between his legs, her eyes glassy as she stroked his erection, moaning his name.

No. Not again.

He kicked her square in the face. She fell back, unmoving on the floor. He called the cops immediately, Tommy right after, sobbing into the phone.

Tommy, Will and Benny arrived just as the cops did. Jen had regained consciousness, and she was arrested for breaking and entering and assault. She was hysterical, claiming that he had invited her over, that they were just doing what lovers do, only for him to go berserk on her.

She couldn’t prove any of this. There was no phone calls, no texts, and all signs pointed to a breaking and entering. The CCTV footage of her breaking in from his neighbour across the street didn’t help her case. Coupled with the fact that she was due in court for the paternity test in a few weeks, she couldn’t claw her way out of the charges. She was begging for mercy, she’s pregnant, she told them. She was hormonal. He was denying their relationship, she needed him to own up to what he had done. To admit that they were deeply in love. Please, officers, please.

No one listened to her.

Joel honestly thought things would get better. She was in custody. She will be investigated. She could not get to him anymore. Truth will out now, faster than it would have been if they had to wait for their day in court. But he couldn’t get what happened out of his head. He thought what he had been through the past few weeks had been bad, but he had been proven wrong. This was no vague recollection, this was not something he couldn’t remember. This was something that actually happened, something he couldn’t deny. Whatever worries that was plaguing him before came back threefold. Whatever feelings he had about himself, the shame, the self-hatred, all came rushing back, hitting him full on in the face.

He had let it happen again. For real, this time. His self-pity and weakness, his vulnerability and attempts to heal himself without outside help had allowed Jen to take advantage of him, yet again. Whatever resolve he had to go to you, to start over, all disappeared within those few minutes that he woke up to her taking advantage of his weakened state.

***some unintentional self harm coming***

He couldn’t sleep. Every time he closed his eyes Jen was there. His skin was crawling. He could feel her fingers all over his body. He could hear her voice every time there was silence. He couldn’t bring himself to go home to the house he shared with you. The safety of your bedroom was now tainted with Jen too. He crawled into the single mattress he had brought into Tommy’s spare bedroom and locked the rest of the world out, hardly eating, not sleeping, filling his ears with music to stop from hearing Jen’s moans of his name. He washed his penis over and over, trying hard to scrub any essence of Jen left off his member. He repeated this day in and day out, until one day the music stopped drowning Jen’s ghostly moans out. He took a pill to help him sleep, washing it down with cheap whiskey. When that didn’t work, he took another. And then another. And then another.

And then he took some more.

He woke up to his Mom sleeping with her head on his bed at the hospital, her face covered in streaks of tears. Tommy and Jake were talking in low voices, Tommy standing up straight when he noticed his brother awake. Jake gently shook Anita awake, the woman immediately getting up and smothering her oldest son in hugs and kisses, telling him how glad she was that he was okay.

They avoided talking to him about what happened. All he knew was that Tommy found him having a seizure, his mouth foaming. They had to pump his stomach, and he was in mandatory hold at the psych ward, on suicide watch.

“I didn’t try to kill myself, I just wanted to sleep. It was an accident,” he had insisted. No one believed him. He needed to talk to someone, they said. Get help, they said. “No,” he tried again. “I didn’t try to kill myself. I just needed sleep.” “Even so,” Anita had coaxed, “You couldn’t sleep, darling. There was a reason to that. Get help darling. Please.”

It was frustrating. He felt as if everyone was trying to get him to work on their schedule. Their preference. Their needs. Not his. He wasn’t ready. He couldn’t talk about it. It wasn’t time. He couldn’t do it. He needed more time. But no one was listening to him. He nearly died by his own hands, so his opinion didn’t matter.

He couldn’t go back to sleep. They refused to give him anything for it. He had almost overdosed. No narcotics for him. All he needed was sleep. He was sure of it. Tommy called you and tried to get you to talk to him, convince him to get help. He hadn’t slept in days at that point, his mind refusing to shut up. To his horror, he unleashed on you, yet again, even from thousands of miles away, even without speaking directly to you. He had repeated the horrific things he had said to you over a month ago, and you had hung up. He knew there was no going back now. You wouldn’t listen to him now.

Tommy interrogated him after that phone call. Why would he say that out loud, knowing that you could hear him, especially since he was obviously miserable with you being gone? Joel finally told his family what he said to you. They all finally understood why you left, finally agreeing to leave you be, not to try to get you to come back, conceding that you needed time, space, away from Joel.

They finally eased up on him, understanding that he too, needed time. He felt lighter after that. Even managed to get short bursts of sleep, and after a few more days, managed to get them without your teary face haunting his dreams.

A week before he was released, he was allowed to walk freely around the common area, his mind cleared, his body stronger, now that he had gotten some semblance of a rest. He was struggling with opening a packet of chips he had gotten from the vending machine, his frustration evident in his demeanor when a woman took the packet from him and helped him open it.

“Thank you,” he said, embarrassed that he had made a scene over a packet of chips.

“Happens to the best of us,” she had replied. “I couldn’t get the Jello packet open since I’ve been here. I have a stash of it in my side drawer. Care to join me for a Jello party? I figured out how to open them with that plastic spork thing they give us. You can bring your chips,” she offered.

“How many Jellos are we talking?”

“I’ve been here two weeks. There’s more than twenty in there. All kinds of flavours.”

Joel smiled. For the first time since that day Jen came into his living room and announced the news that tore his life apart, he smiled.

“I’m Joel.”

“Annie.”

The stunned silence in your little curtained section of the ER felt like forever. You couldn’t take your eyes off him, but you didn’t want to look. Over the years the others had tried to tell you things about him. But you had always changed the subject. You didn’t want to know. If he was doing poorly, you would feel guilty for running away, and it would break you, so you didn’t want to know. If he was doing well and moving on with his life, you would regret the fact that you ran away, and it would break you, so you didn’t want to know.

What you didn’t expect was to find him 15 years later, married, with a teenage daughter. What you didn’t see coming was that this piece of information didn’t break you.

It crushed you.

How many relationships had you been in over the years? How many attempts at moving on had you taken, only to discover you hadn’t let go of the idea of a happily ever after with him? How many men had you turned down because they reminded you too much of him in one way or another?

Sarah broke the silence.

“She needs surgery, Dad, on her shoulder.”

Joel’s stunned look immediately turned into one of concern.

“Did you dislocate it again? You fell on it?”

Annie, Sarah and Mike all looked at Joel.

“You know each other?” Annie asked.

Joel didn’t hesitate. He nodded. “All my life. Annie, Sarah, this is Daisy.”

Annie and Sarah’s faces lit up, looking at you in excitement.

“Daisy? The Daisy? Daze?” Annie asked.

“You’re Auntie Daze? Oh my God I’ve always wanted to meet you!” Sarah chirped, bouncing a little, coming over to you as if to hug you. Joel stopped her, reminding her that you were hurt. Mike stood up and excused himself, telling you he would come visit when he could. You thanked him for his help, and he quietly left, wanting to give the four of you some privacy.

Before anyone could say anything the nurses came in to take you up. The three stepped outside as they did. You could hear Joel asking the doctor questions about your condition, you could hear Annie talking to someone on the phone. When they drew the curtains back to take you up, Annie came to your side.

“We’re gonna take Sarah home and come back later with the others, okay? Do you need anything?”

She took the plastic bag that was placed by your feet and rooted around for your hotel key card. “I’m gonna go over with Olivia and get your things okay? You don’t worry about a thing.”

It was as if you were in a dream. This woman you had just met just talked to you as if she had known you forever. As if this was a daily occurrence. As if she talked to you every single day.

The woman who married the man you were in love with, the one you spent years to get over.

Sarah came over, “I have to go back. Dad wants me to rest. But I’ll come back and visit with Grandma, okay? Thank you for saving me Auntie Daze,” she said, leaning down to kiss you.

You almost flinched away.

“How old are you Sarah?”

“Fourteen.”

Your eyes found Joel’s. He looked away.

Shit.

Your mind was spinning. You left 15 years ago. Jen was pregnant 15 years ago. Was this…?

You were wheeled off before you could say anything.

Annie sat by your bedside after you came back from surgery. She had come straight back to the hospital after going to your hotel room for your things with Olivia. She had gone back to work, promising to come back after. The family chat was filled with questions about you. How is she doing? Let us know when she’s awake. Can we come visit? Is she allowed visitors today? Let’s give her some space, she might get overwhelmed if everyone comes at once. Let’s take turns. Annie, you can stay with her this evening, right?

She watched you as you slept. She had only met you once, a few hours ago. You were already taken to surgery when she came back. But she felt as if she had known you for 15 years. She knew everything there was to know about you. Joel had never stopped talking about you. She kicked herself for not recognizing you sooner. She had seen pictures of you from all the vacation photos Olivia, Anita, Aunt Tina and Eric had shown her. She had wanted to meet you for the longest time but understood that she couldn’t. She knew that you didn’t want to know anything about Joel, and she was a part of his life.

They kept her and Joel updated about you. She didn’t miss the way Joel’s face lit up every time your name was mentioned, nor the way his rare smile decorated his lips every time he saw pictures of you. She could see he wanted to know more, wanted to ask questions about you, wanted to hear more stories about you, but he didn’t. He never did. So she did it for him. Sarah too, sometimes. The way his entire body relaxed when he heard you were doing great made it all worth it.

She also didn’t miss the way his body tense up every time someone mention you being in a relationship, nor the way he would deliberately make himself scarce whenever pictures of you and said boyfriends were passed around for everyone to see.

She didn’t miss the way his face fell every time your heart got broken either.

She sat by your bedside, waiting patiently for you to wake. She couldn’t wait to properly meet you. The woman she had heard about for the past 15 years. Daisy. Daze. The woman her husband married at age six. The woman he built a treehouse for when he started learning the trade. The woman he pushed away 15 years ago.

The woman who was still the love of her husband, Joel Miller’s life.

Part 10

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