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unstablegoldfish · 2 months ago

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[Your Gentle Comfort] 18+

Story Summary: Your interest in boys didn’t really exist in your life. It wasn’t because you were against romance, but mainly for the fact that all the boys in your school were— well, boys. It wasn’t until you met your new teacher and had a relationship growing with him that you realized, you wanted a man.

Key To Escape - Chapter 5

Joel Miller x F!reader - Teacher × F!Student Warning: AGE GAP: After all it is a highschool student x teacher. Light swearing. Lil Make-out. Panic attack. Alcoholic father figure. Talking shit out.

Word Count: 4.8k

Chapter 4 -> Click Here!

Chapter 6-> Click Here! TBD

Summary: The key, a little lure that draws you closer to Joel, so much so that you are willing to let him know every part of you in ways you thought no one would ever.

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The weekend. Usually time for relaxation, maybe read a few books. Catch up on some sleep. Not in this house.

The smell of eggs drifted through the air, a faint sizzle from the kitchen. Dad must be up, making breakfast.

You glanced at the clock. 11 a.m. You’d slept in longer than usual. The flannel beneath your arms was warm and familiar, bunched up against your chest. You inhaled deeply, breathing in the lingering scent of Joel—earthy, like pine and something unmistakably him.

The memories of last night filtered in slowly, piece by piece. The key on your nightstand caught your eye. Small, solid, real. Joel had given you a way out. A place to go. A choice.

You traced your fingers over the metal, feeling the cool ridges. The weight of it felt heavier than it should. The idea that you could just… leave. That someone had given you the option.

Your fingers curled around it for a moment before setting it back down.

A knock interrupts your thoughts, your eyes widened. "you up?” Your dad’s voice. Gruff but not impatient behind your closed door.

You cleared your throat. “Yeah.”

There was a pause before he spoke again. “Come eat something.”

Odd

You waited until his footsteps retreated before getting out of bed. The air was cooler than you expected, sending a shiver up your arms as you pulled Joel’s flannel tighter around you.

The thought of the key stayed with you as you walked to the kitchen.

Your dad was sitting at the table, flipping through the newspaper, a half-eaten plate of eggs in front of him with an empty beer. Another plate, yours, sat across from him. Toast and eggs.

He didn’t look up. Just said, “Figured you’d be hungry.”

You hesitated before pulling out the chair. “Thanks.”

He continued flipping through the paper, taking a bite every now and then. Your eyes would remain on him for any sudden movements. You quickly finished and were getting up to go clean your plate.

He gave u a smile, that lasted for maybe a second, before diving back into the paper.

You went back to your cold room. Climbing back into bed under the warm covers with Joel's flannel. You reached for the key on the nightstand to look at the paper on the back.

His phone number.

His address.

You're still in shock that he gave you them. Should you text him?

Your fingers typed in the number making a contact. Labeled Joel. You went into messages and tried typing one. You continued the typing and deletion process around 100 times before giving up.

You wanted to talk to him. You wanted to get out of here again.

Getting out of your disappointment, you look down to see that you had accidentally sent a message when you were fueled with anxiety.

Shit.

"Hi Joel." It read. Nothing more.

You stared at the screen in horror, your thumb hovering over the message like you could somehow will it back into existence.

Maybe he won’t see it.

Maybe he’s busy.

You groaned, burying your face into Joel’s flannel. You wanted to drown in it, disappear in the covers and pretend none of this had happened.

Then, there was a buzz.

Your breath hitched as you hesitantly lifted the phone.

Joel: Hey you.

You swallowed hard. Your fingers twitched. He responded. That was a good thing, right? But what were you supposed to say now?

Before you could spiral any further, another message popped up.

Joel: Didn’t expect to hear from you this soon. You sleep alright?

A small, nervous smile tugged at your lips. He wasn’t annoyed. He wasn’t weirded out.

He was talking to you.

You took a deep breath and finally typed back.

You: Slept fine. You?

Three dots appeared almost instantly. Then—

Joel: Not bad. Kept thinking about you, though.

Your stomach flipped. You sat up in bed, gripping the phone tighter.

Joel: Was wondering if you were gonna be alright.

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard, heart pounding in your chest. He was checking on you.

You: I’m okay.

It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth either. This morning has you shaken up. Why did dad cook you breakfast? Then last night lingered in your mind, the way Joel had looked at you, the weight of the key in your hand. You wanted answers.

I should use it.

The dots appeared again. Then stopped. Then started up once more.

Joel: Good. Was worried about you.

Your grip on the phone tightened.

You swallowed and hesitated before typing.

You: I was thinking about using the key.

Your heart nearly jumped out of your chest the moment you hit send. It was out there now. No taking it back.

The response came quickly.

Joel: Then use it.

You stared at the message, feeling the weight of those three words settle into your bones.

Use it.

A choice. A door, waiting to be opened.

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you threw off the covers, gripping Joel’s flannel as you stood. Your hands shook as you grabbed the key from the nightstand, running your thumb over its edges.

You left your room but your father was no where to be seen, good. With your fear of him it was for the best.

You took to the doorway, shimmying your shoes on your feet. Making sure to lock the door behind you and then you took off.

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It didn’t take long to reach the address. You stood in front of the house, a nice sized cape cod only 5 blocks away from your own home. Taking a deep breath before you walked over to the doorway. You held the key tightly and pressed it into the lock.

Here goes nothing

You opened the door. You felt an instant change, from the natural lighting, to the air that smelled faintly of something warm—coffee, maybe, or something richer, something lived-in. You’d removed the key from the door, you stood still waiting for a sound of movement. Gripping the key so tightly it left an imprint in your palm.

Then, from deeper inside, footsteps.

You swallowed hard.

And there he was.

Joel stood in the doorway to what looked like the kitchen, a dish towel slung over his shoulder. He was wearing a grey T-shirt that showed off his build. His dusty blue jeans. This picture should be framed.

His eyes landed on you immediately, taking you in—your hoodie, the flannel he gave you worn over it, the tension in your shoulders. His expression softened. He was very pleased to see you at his door. You were gorgeous, and to know you were in his home, he felt comfort.

“Didn’t think you’d actually come,” he said.

You shifted on your feet, suddenly unsure of yourself. “Me neither. Suddenly I was just walking.”

He gives you a smile, “Please make yourself comfortable.” He gestures towards his living space. There was an archway entry and there was a bookshelf that went from floor to ceiling. A turntable placed in the corner and your normal couch and arm chair. You take a seat on his couch and he joins by sitting in the arm chair across from you.

Joel leaned back, eyes still caught on you. “You eat?”

You blinked, startled by the question. “Yeah. My dad made breakfast.”

Joel’s expression flickered, just for a second, like he was surprised that your father paid you any mind.

“Good,” he said simply, rubbing a hand over his knee.

You glanced around the room, your eyes lingering on the bookshelf. It was packed, filled with worn spines and loose papers shoved between pages. A small collection of records sat beside the old turntable near the corner. Everything in here felt lived-in, kind of like Joel himself.

“You read a lot?” you asked, nodding toward it.

Of course he would have to read if he was your english teacher .

Joel followed your eyes, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, he saw your realization to the stupid question. But he didn’t bother to make a joke. “Yeah. When I get the time.”

You hummed. “What kind of books?”

“Anything, really. Mostly older stuff.” He ran a hand over his jaw, thoughtful. “Somethin’ about reading makes things feel quieter, y’know?”

You nodded, tracing your fingers over the seam of your sleeve. “Yeah. I get that.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The quiet between you wasn’t uncomfortable, but it felt… heavy. Like there was something neither of you were saying. You kept looking around the room for more details.

Joel’s eyes flickered to the flannel you were still wrapped up in. He exhaled through his nose, amused. “Guess you like that thing more than I do.”

Your face heated, but you didn’t let go of it. “It’s warm.”

His smirk deepened. “Glad it’s useful.”

The warmth in his voice made something tighten in your chest. You looked away, suddenly feeling too seen.

Joel sat forward, elbows resting on his knees. “You stayin’ long?

You hesitated. It was an easy question, but answering felt… complicated.

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “I just—I had to get out of there.”

Joel nodded slowly. “You can stay as long as you please.”

Joel watched you for a moment, then leaned back again, stretching out his legs. “You wanna put somethin’ on?” He nodded toward the records near the shelf.

You hesitated, then stood, walking toward them. Your fingers traced over the worn covers, pulling one out at random.

Joel watched as you placed the record onto the turntable. A soft crackle filled the space before music poured through the speakers, low and warm.

When you turned back around, he was still watching you.

And for the first time in a long time, you felt like you were exactly where you were supposed to be.

Your eyes met with his, he sat comfortably with his arms spread and resting along the head of the chair.

“You picked my favorite.”

“Really?”

You listened to the tunes filling the room. It brought you joy. This is what Joel listens to.

Joel gave a slow nod, his smirk just barely there. “Yeah. Been listenin’ to this one for years.”

You turned back toward the turntable, letting the music sink in. The soft hum of the melody, the crackle of the vinyl—it suited him. Steady, worn, familiar.

“I like it,” you admitted. You had grabbed the cover and memorized it to play later.

Joel let out a low chuckle. “Good taste, then.”

You walked back to the couch, settling into the corner, tucking your legs beneath you. Joel watched, his gaze steady, taking you in. He looked comfortable, his fingers idly tapping along the fabric in time with the music.

“Joel.” You said softly. Having his eyes on you was starting to burn you alive. You loved the feeling of being the only thing they were drawn to.

“Darlin’” He echoed back.

“Why’d you give me the key?” Your voice soft, you didn’t quite understand and it had been on your mind all night.

Joel’s fingers stilled against the chair. His eyes held yours, steady and unreadable, before he exhaled, long and slow.

“Figured you might need it,” he said simply.

Your grip on the flannel tightened. “Why?” Your need for answers was burning.

Joel leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He studied you for a moment, like he was choosing his words carefully. Then, he said, “Didn’t want you stuck somewhere you didn’t wanna be.”

No one had ever given you an out before.

You swallowed, looking down at your hands. “You don’t even really know me.”

Joel’s voice was steady when he answered. “I know enough.”

Your breath caught. It’s true, he does know things. But you can’t quite remember all that you wrote down that day. So what exactly does he know?

He shifted in his chair, running a hand over his jaw. “Listen, I ain’t gonna tell you what to do. But that key—” he nodded toward your pocket, “—that’s yours now. Use it when you need to. Don’t gotta explain yourself to me.”

Your throat felt tight.

You weren’t sure what made you say it, but the words slipped out before you could stop them. “What if I just wanted to be here?”

Joel’s eyes darkened just slightly.

“Then be here.” His voice was quiet, sure. “Ain’t stoppin’ you.”

You felt greedy. But he shut it down immediately. Reassuring you that staying here was a safe place to be, he wasn’t going to make you uncomfortable for any decision you make.

You held his gaze, your heart pounding. You had spent so much of your life waiting for someone to push you away, for someone to change their mind about you. But Joel—he wasn’t doing that.

He was leaving the door open.

You exhaled slowly, nodding. The music filled the silence between you, warm and steady, grounding you in the moment.

Joel leaned back again, smirking just slightly. “You always ask this many questions?”

You rolled your eyes, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Only when things don’t make sense.”

Joel chuckled, shaking his head. “Alright, then. What else don’t make sense to ya'?”

You tilted your head, considering him. Everything. Him. The way he looked at you. The way he had given you a key like it was the easiest thing in the world.

“My attraction to you, the way you’re letting it happen? You have to admit this isn’t right…” You felt yourself rambling. But it was the truth, after all.

Joel’s smirk faded, but not in a way that made you uneasy. If anything, he just looked… thoughtful. He let your words settle, his eyes never leaving yours.

“You think it ain’t right?”

You swallowed, gripping the flannel tighter. “I don’t know.”

Joel leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “Seems like you do.”

You looked away, exhaling sharply. “I just—” You hesitated, choosing your words carefully. “I don’t get it. You should’ve walked away by now.”

“That what you’re used to?”

Your breath hitched. You hadn’t expected that question.

“Yeah. Pretty much.”

Joel was quiet for a long moment. The record spun on in the background, filling the space where words failed. Then, finally, he spoke.

“I ain’t them.”

Your stomach twisted.

“I know,” you admitted, barely above a whisper. He was a lot different from everyone.

Joel nodded, “So, what do you wanna do?”

You blinked at him.

“What?”

Joel leaned back again, his gaze steady. “You’re here. I gave you a key. I ain’t got some hidden agenda, darlin’. You get to decide what happens next."

Your fingers curled tighter into your sleeves. You looked at him, at the quiet patience in his expression, at the way he was just waiting—not for what he wanted, but for what you did.

You inhaled sharply, heart pounding.

And then you stood.

Joel’s eyes followed you, but he didn’t move, didn’t speak. Just watched.

Slowly, cautiously, you stepped forward, closing the space between you.

Your knees brushed against his while you positioned yourself between his legs.

Joel’s breath hitched, just barely. His fingers twitched against the arm of the chair, but he still didn’t reach for you.

He was waiting.

Your heart thundered as you leaned down and lifted a hand, hesitating just before touching him. Your fingers hovered near his jaw, near the warmth of his skin.

A choice.

And for the first time, it was yours to make.

“Joel, I-“ You stopped. But the burning you felt in your head, that made its way all over your body. You are burning for him.

You leaned towards his ear. “I want you.” you said surely. Pulling back to make sure to see his eyes, and they twitched but remained on yours.

His hand reached for your head, pulling you in closer until you shared a kiss, it was passionate. He was dying for this, and quite honestly you were too. You sat in his lap as you begun to press sweet kisses onto his lips. His hand making its way down your back to take hold of your hips. As his other wrapped around your body. Holding you, securing you.

Joel’s fingers pressed into your hips like he was anchoring himself to this moment—like he needed you just as badly as you needed him. His lips were warm, rough. You didn't mind.

Your hands threaded into his hair, nails scraping lightly against his scalp, and you felt the way his breath hitched in response. He exhaled through his nose, deepening the kiss, his tongue brushing against yours in a way that made your stomach twist and your pulse hammer.

You were new to this—the heat, the tenderness. But he helped guide you. You knew this was right by the way he touched you like he was memorizing you. Like you weren’t just something to pass the time, but something to keep.

A soft groan rumbled from his chest as you shifted in his lap, your body molding against his. His hand slid beneath the hem of your shirt, fingertips tracing over your skin, slow and deliberate. He wasn’t rushing. He was savoring.

But then, he hesitated, slightly pulling back.

His forehead rested against yours, breath heavy, chest rising and falling against you. His hands stayed firm on your waist, holding you there, but his eyes—dark and searching—studied your face.

“You sure about this?” he murmured, voice thick, laced with something raw.

The warmth in your chest spread lower, deeper. Because he wasn’t just asking if you wanted him—he was asking if you wanted this. If you wanted to let him in.

Your fingers brushed over the scruff on his jaw, tracing the shape of his face like you were answering without words. But you gave them anyway.

“Yeah, Joel.” Your voice was softer this time, but no less certain. “I’m sure.”

His jaw clenched, his grip on you tightening for just a second before his lips were on yours again, and this time, there was no hesitation.

No more waiting.

Just you. Just him. Just this.

Joel’s lips moved against yours with a quiet urgency. He was hungry for you, but he wanted to be gentle. His hands stayed firm on your hips, keeping you close, but his touch remained careful—measured, like he was still giving you room to stop, to pull away.

But you didn’t.

Instead, you deepened the kiss, pressing yourself against him, needing more. Your fingers traced the worn fabric of his shirt, feeling the solid warmth beneath it, the quiet strength that had always made you feel safe. He exhaled sharply against your mouth as your hands slid under the hem, fingertips grazing over his stomach.

Joel groaned, a sound deep in his chest, and then his hand was on your thigh, thumb pressing slow circles into your skin. He shifted, leaning forward, then pressing you back against the couch as he settled between your legs. He was now positioned on top of you. His heat—it made your breath catch, made something coil tight and desperate inside you.

He looked into your eyes, full of desire. You wanted him more than anything. Just when things were starting to ignite Joel had pulled away from your lips.

“Just a taste sweetheart.”

He was going to leave you in suspense. Your face was hot, and you were still trying to catch a regular rhythm with your breath.

“You’re teasing me.” You replied

Joel smirked, his thumb grazing over your cheek, his eyes dark with something unreadable. “Maybe,” he murmured, voice rough, teasing. “Or maybe I just wanna take my time.”

He wasn’t rushing, he was savoring this, savoring you.

His fingers trailed down your side, slow and deliberate, and you shivered under his touch. He felt it too, the way his jaw clenched, the way his hand flexed against your hip like he was reigning himself in.

“You’re new to this aren’t ya’?”

“Yeah.” you replied softly.

“Gonna treat you right when the time comes. Promise.”

His eyes traced your lips, he wanted more. But he wanted you to have an experience worth remembering. So he was going to wait till he knew you were totally at ease being with him.

Your breath had slowed down, “Okay, I believe you.”

Joel walked over to the turntable, he adjusted himself before flipping the vinyl onto the second side. The cracking of the needle played until the song came on.

Your eyes remained locked on him. How could he do something like that and just walk away. You’ve never felt such urges to lust in your life. It was exciting.

Joel turned, his eyes immediately placed on you.

“So, how much do you know about me?” You questioned. Giving your head a slight tilt.

Joel let out a low chuckle, he walked back to you. Sitting down on the couch beside you. “More than you probably think.”

Heat rose back to your face when he came close. You raised a brow. “Oh yeah?”

He nodded, his gaze steady. “Know you don’t sleep much. You read a hell of a lot. Got a habit of goin’ for your English teacher. And…” He tilted his head, studying you like he was still trying to figure you out. “You’re runnin’ from somethin’.”

You chuckled. “Yeah about right. What all did I put on that paper, I couldn’t remember.”

“The one ‘bout anger?”

“Yeah that one.”

Joel looked at you. He his face relaxed into a smile. “You’re tellin’ me, you can’t remember?”

“I wish I could. I got so lost in it that I couldn’t stop.” His smile was contagious as it landed on your face.

“Darlin’ you wrote a hell of a paper.” His hand traced his jaw as he was trying to remember where he placed it. “Ah, let me grab it.”

He pushed himself up and stepped out of the room, leaving you alone with nothing but the soft hum of the turntable.

Silence settled in, thick and heavy.

If you’d been alone like this back home, nerves would’ve taken over, creeping up your spine like a slow-burning fire. You had to get a grip—remind yourself you were at Joel’s. You were safe. Nothing was going to happen here.

But logic didn’t stop your body from curling in on itself, arms wrapping around your knees, head sinking between them. Your fingers dug into your scalp, gripping as if that could steady the rush of panic. The room blurred, sound fading. Your chest rose and fell too fast—like an animal mid-sprint, heart pounding against your ribs.

Joel came back to find you like that, his footsteps slowing as confusion crossed his face.

“Hey—” he called your name, his voice laced with concern. But you couldn’t hear him.

He dropped to his knees in front of you, speaking low and steady, trying to pull you back. Then his hand touched your shoulder.

You snapped back to life.

A scream tore from your throat as you flinched, batting his hand away. But then—your eyes met his. Steady, worried, unwavering.

And just like that, the fight drained out of you. Tears welled and spilled over, streaking down your face in silent surrender.

“I’m so, so sorry, Joel.” You choked out the words between sobs, your body trembling.

But Joel didn’t hesitate. He just pulled you in, his arms strong and steady, holding you like he could keep the whole world from touching you.

“Shhh. I gotcha, baby girl.” His voice was low, soothing, the kind of steady you didn’t know you needed.

You swallowed hard, breath still ragged. “It’s—it’s my dad,” you stammered, voice breaking. “He isn’t a good man.”

Your chest hitched as you tried to pull yourself together, but Joel didn’t let go. His arms stayed wrapped around you, solid and warm, grounding you when everything else felt like it was slipping.

For the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel alone.

You let out a shaky breath, pressing your forehead against his shoulder. “Thank you, Joel.”

Joel stayed quiet for a long moment, just holding you, his arms strong and steady like he was trying to shield you from something he couldn’t see. His hand ran slow up and down your back, the warmth of him grounding you, keeping you from slipping too far into the dark.

“Ain’t nothin’ to be sorry for, baby girl,” he finally murmured, voice low and sure.

You gripped the fabric of his shirt, your breath still uneven. The weight in your chest hadn’t gone away, but somehow, in his arms, it felt a little easier to carry.

Joel pulled back just enough to look at you, his rough fingers brushing a stray tear from your cheek. His eyes, sharp and watchful as ever, softened when they met yours.

“You’re safe here.”

The words hit you deep, deeper than you expected. Your throat tightened, and you could only manage a small nod.

Joel sighed, his thumb absentmindedly grazing your arm before he finally spoke again. “You wanna talk ‘bout it?”

You hesitated. Part of you wanted to spill everything, let it all pour out like a flood you couldn’t hold back anymore. But another part of you wasn’t sure where to start.

Instead, all you managed was a quiet, “I don’t know.”

Joel nodded like he understood. “That’s alright. You don’t gotta. Just know I’m here.”

The room fell into a hush, the only sound the low crackle of the turntable spinning in the background.

You gathered your breath. “It’s my family. It’s a horrible place.” You paused. “Joel I don’t even know where to begin.”

“I’ll wait.” His voice was steady, his eyes calm as they stayed locked on yours. He could sit there all day, all night if that’s what you needed.

You pressed a hand to your forehead, exhaling shakily. “My dad… he drinks. Sometimes too much. And when he does, he lashes out—at me, mostly. Guess it depends on whatever reason the alcohol gives him that day. Maybe it’s work stress.” You let out a long sigh. “Being alone haunts me. Anywhere that isn't my room."

Joel’s expression didn’t change, but his eyes flickered with something deep. Then, his arms tightened around you, firm and unwavering.

“Won’t ever leave you alone, baby.”

The weight in your chest loosened just a little.

“My mom left when I was young,” you murmured, voice quieter now. “She still calls—checks in when I miss school—but that’s about it.” You swallowed. “I haven’t really talked about this before.” It wasn’t everything, but it was enough to make the burden feel a little lighter.

Joel shifted slightly, reaching down to pick up a crumpled piece of loose-leaf paper. Your assignment from the second day.

“That’s what you wrote about.”

You took it from him, fingers tracing over the creased edges before you began to read. Your handwriting stared back at you, every thought you had poured onto the page—about home, about old friends, about yourself. How you wanted to leave. You hadn’t held back.

Your fingers tightened around the paper before you reached into your pocket, pulling out the small, familiar key.

“This is why I have this, isn’t it?”

Joel gave you a slow nod, his gaze steady.

“Just wantcha to be safe, darlin’. I couldn’t live with the thought of somethin’ happenin’ to ya.”

The room fell quiet, except for the soft hum of the turntable. You stared down at the key in your palm, feeling its weight in a way you hadn’t before.

Joel was watching you, quiet, patient. He always seemed to know when to push and when to just… be there.

Your voice came out barely above a whisper. “I don’t know how to leave.”

Joel inhaled slowly, rubbing at the scruff on his jaw. “You don’t gotta have it all figured out today. Just take it a step at a time.”

His voice was steady, reassuring, but the fear inside you hadn’t let up. “And what if I do leave? What if it makes things worse?”

Joel’s eyes darkened, and you swore his jaw clenched. “You got somewhere to go now. You ain’t alone in this, baby.”

You exhaled, letting your fingers curl around the key. The idea of running—of escaping—felt impossible. But at the same time, so had finding someone who gave a damn. And yet, here he was.

That was what scared you the most. Letting someone else see—really see—how much you needed them. But when you looked into Joel’s eyes, you didn’t see judgment. Just patience. Just understanding.

Your breath shook as you finally spoke. “Can I stay here a little longer?”

Joel nodded, his thumb brushing lightly over the back of your hand. “For as long as you need, baby girl.”

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Ermm, okay, so for those who don't know. I started this story almost 2 years ago now and only just started writing again this month. (February 2025) I had no planned storyline what so ever, I just wrote what I wanted to. So with this chapter I tried piecing things together so that everything made sense. With that going forward things will be smoother and when things happen AKA Joel giving you a key to his house doesn't seem so random. He wanted to give you it, in an escape from your half and half abusive father. How'd he know that? From the paper you wrote in the second chapter. I never clarified where he would've learnt any information anywhere. So hopefully with this chapter all things line up. NOW going forward things will be much smoother and we can get into fun things ;)

Stay tuned for the next chapter!

Taglist: @miss-mistinguett @astro3des @prfctwilliams @onetimebaby @mal023 @thejoywillburnoutthepain @theoraekenslover @itsagirlthings

#joel miller x you #joel miller fic #joel miller self insert #joel miller x reader #joel x reader #pedro pascal #teacher x reader #teacher x student #joel #the last of us #mr.miller #joel tlou #Spotify

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unstablegoldfish · 3 months ago

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#joel miller x you #joel miller fic #joel miller self insert #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #joel x reader #teacher x reader #teacher x student #joel #the last of us

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unstablegoldfish · 3 months ago

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Joel Miller Fanfic Short

Swear you’ll stay

Joel Miller x Reader

Word Count: 588

Summary: Joel is hesitating to leave, he'd miss your touch and your warmth in the mornings. You try to get him to stay, not very hard in fear of being an annoyance. You'll be waiting for him, no matter the length of time.

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The air smelled like rain—fresh, clean, the earth still damp from last night’s storm. The fields stretched wide and golden under the morning sun, and somewhere in the distance, the wind rattled through the trees. It was quiet here. Peaceful.

But it wouldn’t be for long.

You leaned against the porch railing, watching as Joel loaded the last of his things into the back of his truck. His jacket was slung over the driver’s seat, his bag tucked neatly in the back like he was making sure there’d be no reason to stay.

He hadn’t said much that morning. Neither had you. But the silence between you was heavier than it had ever been before.

“You sure about this?” you asked finally, voice careful, steady.

Joel exhaled, hands braced against the tailgate. He didn’t look at you right away. “Don’t got much of a choice, darlin’.”

You swallowed. “There’s always a choice.”

He ran a hand over his jaw, finally turning to face you. His eyes, warm and familiar, flickered with something you couldn’t quite name. “You know it ain’t that simple.”

“Doesn’t have to be that complicated either.”

The words sat between you, stretching the distance that neither of you wanted to acknowledge.

Joel sighed, stepping closer, the porch creaking beneath his boots. “You think I wanna leave?” His voice was quieter now, rougher. “Think I don’t wanna stay right here, wake up to this place, to you, every damn day?”

Your throat tightened. “Then stay.”

He studied you, his gaze tracing over your face like he was trying to commit it to memory. Like he knew he wouldn’t see it tomorrow, or the next day, or the one after that.

“City ain’t for me, Joel,” you murmured. “This place… it’s home. And it could be yours too.”

Joel’s fingers twitched at his side. Like he wanted to reach for you. Like he was fighting himself not to.

“I can’t ask you to wait,” he said, voice barely above a whisper.

The wind stirred through the fields, the morning sun casting long shadows over the grass.

Joel took a slow breath, like he was trying to steady something inside him. Then, before you could say anything else, he reached out—his calloused hand warm as it cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin like a promise, like an apology.

For a second, you thought maybe, just maybe, he’d say yes.

But then he exhaled, pressing his forehead to yours for just a heartbeat before stepping away.

“I’ll come back,” he promised.

But you knew—sometimes, people left with the best intentions. And sometimes, no matter how much you wanted them to, they never found their way home.

Joel climbed into his truck, fingers gripping the wheel tight. The engine rumbled to life, gravel crunching under the tires as he pulled away, dust kicking up in his wake.

You stayed on the porch, watching until he disappeared down the road, until the silence wrapped around you again.

And you wondered if he’d ever really come back. You just wish that he'd sworn he'd stay.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Little drabbled I had in my drafts for awhile, I might post a few of these in the days that come.

#joel miller x you #joel miller fic #joel miller self insert #joel x reader #joel miller x reader #joel #the last of us #fanfic writing #pedro pascal #short story

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unstablegoldfish · 3 months ago

Text

[Your Gentle Comfort] 18+

Long Way Home - Chapter 4

Joel Miller x F!reader - Teacher × F!Student Warning: AGE GAP: After all it is a highschool student x teacher. Light swearing.

Word Count: 5k ;)

Chapter 3 -—> Click here!

Chapter 5-—> Click Here!

Fic Masterlist -> Click here!

Summary: Between you and Joel there’s a lot of similarities to be discussed. He sees himself in you and he wants to protect you from that. After having a talk you get to see Joel as himself.

—————————————————————————————

The classroom was still humming with soft murmurs of students as they packed their things for their next class. Joel’s focus was shifted entirely. He sat at his desk with his arms crossed, he was watching you as you gathered your things. There was a stronger tension now, something unsaid hanging between the two of you, it only grew stronger since your poem.

The poem about him.

He hadn’t meant to read it, he just happened to be walking past when he caught sight of his name, the way you’d described warmth and safety. How much you felt cared for by him and how appreciative you are of that. Your words stuck with him, as if you had reached right inside and pulled something out of him that he wasn’t sure how to face.

With everything he knew about you and where you’re coming from, He couldn’t help but feel a closeness to you.

You had hurried out of the classroom as soon as the bell rang, and Joel let out a slow exhale, rubbing the back of his neck. What the hell was he thinking?

He wasn’t blind, he’d seen the way you’ve looked at him. The way your eyes glistened as soon as he’d touch you. How eager you seemed to want to talk to him this morning as you both arrived early. He knew you wanted his attention badly. But he wasn’t going to stop you. He’d let you talk, let you sit with him, he wants you to feel safe here.

Wasn’t that his job?

But this, this was different. This was going to cross into something dangerous if he kept it up this way. He’s not sure if he’ll have the strength to push you away, no matter the danger.

Joel sighed and stood up from his desk, heading toward the hallway. He needed a minute. Maybe a smoke. Maybe a stiff drink, but lord knows he couldn’t do that right now.

As he walked, his mind replayed the conversation from earlier in his office. He could see the realization on your face when you realized he understood you. You held onto that magnet as if it meant more to you than anything. Then it ever had to him.

Joel found himself leaning against the wall next to his classroom door, watching as students passed by in waves, lost in their own worlds. The hallway is loud, filled with noise.

You had to be among this crowd.

The thought of you lingered in Joel’s thick skull. Your sweetness. Your tired eyes. He wanted to be the one to help you release all that pain bottled up inside.

You were probably heading to your next class, probably overthinking everything just as much as he was. He needed to get a grip. He has to be professional. This is absurd.

But you needed someone to care for you. To listen. To be a steady presence.

That’s all this was.

That’s all it could be.

He ran a hand down his face, feeling the weight of it all. He needed to be careful for your sake and for his own.

But as he turned back inside, there was a small, quiet voice in the back of his head whispering something he wasn’t wanting to admit.

—————————————————————————————

The final bell had rung for the day, you were overthinking everything that Joel could be thinking of you. From the good to the bad, to the even worse.

What would he say to you the next time you see him? Would he ignore you? Would he keep his distance? For the first time you decided to unpack the baggage you were carrying you had to ruin it in seconds. If only you wrote about something else. If only.

You were making your way following the crowds, hoping and not hoping to see Joel at the same time. You wanted clarity and fast, but you were also worried of what was to come. You couldn’t make up your mind.

I should just go home.

You made your way to the front door in school, it was hard to see through the crowd but you caught a glance of the man himself standing outside past the window. He was facing the sidewalk, saying goodbye to a few other students. He was waiting for something.

Your palms became sweaty, your heart was racing. You’ve never been so nervous in your life.

—————————————————————————————

Joel knew you’d be on your way out soon, And hell, he didn’t know what he was supposed to say to you. But he knew he had to do something.

That poem.

He saw the weight behind the words, the rawness, the longing. It wasn’t just admiration or gratitude. It was something else entirely, something that crossed lines he knew damn well he shouldn’t step over.

He let out a long breath, running a hand over his beard, stealing a glance toward the doors.

Would you stop? Would you keep walking? Would you even look at him?

He wasn’t sure what he wanted the answer to be.

But just as the thoughts appeared so did you.

He spotted you just past the stream of students making their way out of the building. you had hesitated when you saw him, like a deer caught in headlights, unsure whether to run or stay still. Joel felt something tighten in his chest at the sight of it—at the conflict so plainly written across your face. He didn’t want that for you.

you were nervous. And if he was being honest with himself, so was he.

He wasn’t sure if it was the right move, but he gave you the smallest tilt of his head, an unspoken question. You alright?

you swallowed hard, your feet still frozen to the pavement.

That was his answer.

Joel let out a slow exhale, pushing himself forward. He didn’t want to have this conversation here, in the open, with ears all around. He gestured for you to walk closer to him.

“Walk with me,” he said, voice low, meant just for you.

You blinked, looking around as if to check who might be watching. “What?”

“Just a walk.” Joel gestured toward the sidewalk, the one leading away from the school. “Nothin’ heavy. Just need a breather, s’all.”

you hesitated, but after a moment, you gave a small nod.

The two of you walked in silence for a bit, the late afternoon air was fresh, the sky painted in soft oranges and pinks. Joel shoved his hands into his pockets, trying to gather his thoughts, trying to find the right words that wouldn’t make this harder than it already was.

“You’re a hell of a writer,” he finally said, glancing over at you. His eyes were soft. He wanted to make this light hearted, not something to trouble you.

“Y-Yeah, well. Guess I should’ve picked a different subject.” You stammered

Joel sighed. “Listen…” He stopped walking, turning to face you fully. You looked up at him, the weight that was pressed against your heart hurt. “Ain’t mad at you, alright? Just… this is a tricky thing.”

Your expression flickered with something—relief, maybe? or something close to it. But there was still an uncertainty in your eyes, a fear of rejection, of judgment. He hated seeing that look on you.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he reassured. “But we gotta be careful. You get that, don’t you?”

You nodded, biting your lip. “I know.”

Joel sighed, glancing away for a moment before looking back at you. “I ain’t gonna push you away. You got my word on that. Just…If this is whatcha want, truly. I wanna give it to ya.”

You swallowed hard, his words settling deep in your chest. He wasn’t pushing you away. He wasn’t shutting you down. If anything, he was offering you a choice—a dangerous one. One that you’d been teetering on the edge of since the moment you met him.

“I—” You hesitated, shifting on your feet. “I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything more.”

Joel’s gaze was heavy, studying you, searching for any trace of uncertainty. You didn’t waver. Couldn’t.

His fingers twitched at his side, like he was fighting the instinct to reach for you. “Alright, then,” he murmured. His voice was quieter now, more careful. “But we gotta be smart about this, darlin’.”

Darlin’.

The word sent a shiver down your spine. You nodded, breath unsteady. “I know.”

Joel exhaled, his jaw tightening, but there was something softer in his eyes now.

“Then let’s take this slow. Figure it out together.”

The way he said it, the way he looked at you—like he was offering you something fragile, something real—made your chest ache.

Joel nodded once, like he was solidifying something in his own mind, then glanced toward the parking lot. Students were still milling about, but the crowd was thinning.

“You headed home?” he asked, voice even, like this was just another conversation. Like he hadn’t just offered you something that would change everything.

You hesitated. Home. The cold, empty house that waited for you. The silence that pressed in from every corner. After everything that had happened today, the thought of going back there made your stomach twist, and he saw right through you.

“I don’t really wanna be alone right now,” you admitted, voice quieter than you meant it to be. You were honestly scared of what this meant. But looking at him, his warmth and what he’s done for you. Anything that came your way you felt you could beat.

Joel shifted on his feet, rubbing the back of his neck. You could see the gears turning in his head, the way he was weighing his options, still unsure himself if this was too risky.

He let out a long breath. “Come on, then,” he murmured, tilting his head toward his car. “Let’s go for a drive.”

Your heart skipped. “Are you sure?”

His lips twitched, just the faintest hint of a smirk. “Yeah, darlin’. I’m sure. Wouldn’t be the first time, would it?”

That was all you needed to hear. “G-guess not.”

You followed him to his car, slipping into the passenger seat as he started the engine. The low hum of it filled the silence between you, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was just… steady. Safe.

Joel pulled out of the lot, one hand on the wheel, the other resting loosely on his thigh. “Anywhere you wanna go?”

You thought for a moment, then shook your head. “Just… anywhere that’s not home.”

He nodded like he understood exactly what you meant. You clutched onto the magnet in your pocket. This was good.

“You remember when I started crying before heading in after you dropped me off?” You asked. You felt the need to tell him this regardless of how nerve wracking everything had become.

“Couldn’t forget. Had me worried.” He responded lightly.

“It’s my house. The quiet pain of being inside. It drives me crazy.”

Joel continues to drive, you still have no idea where you’re headed but you knew if it was with him you’d be alright.

“Me ‘n you, we’re a lot alike. My house growing up weren’t too different from yours, sweets.” Joel’s voice was low, steady, like he was saying something he didn’t share often. His eyes stayed on the road, but you could feel the weight of his words settle between you.

You swallowed. “Yeah?”

He gave a small nod. “Yeah.” His fingers tapped lightly against the steering wheel, like he was thinking. “Nothin’ but empty rooms and cold air. A place that don’t feel like home, even when you’re livin’ in it.”

Your fingers tightened around the magnet in your pocket. “Exactly,” you murmured.

Joel glanced at you, just for a second, before looking back at the road. “S’why I left when I could. Made my own life, one that felt like mine. Even if it didn’t go completely as planned.” He exhaled. “Ain’t sayin’ it’s easy, but… you don’t gotta stay in a place that don’t feel like home, darlin’.”

Something in your chest ached at the thought. You’d never had someone talk to you like this—like they understood, like they got it. Like they weren’t just offering hollow words, but something real.

“I don’t know if I ever had one,” you admitted quietly. “A home.”

Joel was quiet for a moment, then he reached over. His fingers brushed against your knee—just the lightest touch, barely there. But it sent warmth spreading through you like wildfire.

“You will,” he said softly. “One day, you will.” His hand moved to a comfortable place on your thigh. He looks over and smiles. You offer one in return.

The road stretched ahead of you, golden light filtering through the trees as the sun started to dip lower. You didn’t know where you were going, but with Joel beside you, for the first time in a long time, you weren’t scared.

For a while, neither of you spoke. You just listened to the hum of the tires on pavement, the occasional soft exhale from Joel. It wasn’t awkward. It was the kind of silence that felt safe. Like neither of you had to fill it with anything to prove you were comfortable.

Then Joel reached for the radio, turning the dial until a low, scratchy country song filled the car. Something warm. He tapped his fingers against the wheel in time with the slow rhythm.

(what I picture the radio to be playing in this moment)

“Y’ever think about leavin’?” he asked, voice casual, but there was something underneath it.

You glanced at him. “Leaving?”

He nodded. “This town. The house. Everythin’.”

The thought had crossed your mind before. Maybe more than crossed. But it always felt like something other people did—people who had a plan, a place to go, someone waiting for them on the other side.

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “I don’t know where I’d go.”

Joel hummed, like he understood that. “Don’t gotta have it all figured out,” he said. “Just gotta know you can.”

The way he said it—like it was something possible, something real—made your throat tighten.

“You left,” you said, watching the way his jaw tensed slightly, the way his grip on the wheel shifted.

“I did,” he said simply. “Didn’t have much of a choice. But still. Best damn thing I ever did for myself.”

“If you don’t mind my asking, you didn’t have much of a choice? Why was that?” You started to become curious about Joel’s past life. You wanted to know more.

“That’s for a later time sweets. I’ll let you know soon. Promise.” He swayed his thumb back and forth on your thigh, offering comfort. He didn’t want to close you out of his life. But for now he was taking things slow.

You looked out the window, the sun melting into the horizon. It was strange, the way Joel talked to you. Not like a teacher, not like an adult trying to tell you what you should or shouldn’t do. Just like someone who had been where you were. Someone who understood.

Your fingers toyed with the magnet in your pocket.

“Where are we going?” you asked after a while.

Joel smirked, just slightly. “Somewhere quiet.”

That was all he said. But when you glanced at him, the streetlights casting shadows across his face. He was so handsome.

Yeah. Quiet sounded nice.

The drive stretched on, the world outside growing softer, quieter. The further Joel took you from town, the more the tension in your chest unraveled.

Eventually, he pulled off onto a dirt road, the tires crunching over gravel. A few minutes later, the trees opened up to a clearing—a little stretch of land overlooking the valley below. It was still, untouched, the sky painted in hues of orange and violet as the sun dipped lower.

Joel cut the engine, leaning back against the seat with a quiet exhale. “Ain’t much, but it’s somethin’,” he murmured, glancing over at you.

You stared out at the view, at the endless sky, the rolling hills in the distance. It was something.

“This is gorgeous, wow. I’ve always read about things like this. Never imagined I’d see it.” Disbelief was on display. Your eyes never so wide.

Joel kept his eyes on you, admiring everything you are. Something of beauty. Something to protect. He was going to show you the world now.

“Glad you think so sweets.” He removed his hand to unbuckle his seatbelt. “Let’s go take a closer look.”

You and Joel hoped out of the car walking closer to the end of the hill. The valley was so vast. It was hard to believe it was so close to home. Yet you’ve never been able to reach it.

For a while, neither of you spoke. The wind rustled through the trees, carrying the scent of pine and damp earth. You let yourself breathe it in, let yourself exist here, in this moment, where nothing hurt and nothing felt heavy.

“Y’alright?”

You turned to look at him. His gaze was steady, patient, like he had all the time in the world to wait for your answer.

“Yeah,” you said, voice soft. “I think I am.”

He studied you for a moment, then nodded like he believed you. Like he trusted you to know your own feelings.

You hesitated before speaking again. “Why’d you bring me here?”

Joel ran a hand over his jaw, his expression thoughtful. “Figured you needed somewhere that didn’t remind you of… everythin’ else.”

You swallowed. “And what about you?”

His lips twitched, just the faintest ghost of a smile. “Maybe I needed it too.”

The way he said it, quiet and honest, made your heart ache. You didn’t know what to say to that, so you just turned back toward the horizon, watching as the last sliver of sun disappeared below the hills.

He noticed your chills from the cool air. He wrapped his flannel around your arms and grasped your shoulders.

“Thanks.” You said with a smile.

“My pleasure.”

The world was dimming, but here, next to Joel, you didn’t feel lost in the dark.

A comfortable silence settled between you, the kind that didn’t demand to be filled.

You wanted to ease the conversation somehow, and considering your conversation earlier this morning, he had some sense of humour. “You always bring your students out to the middle of nowhere?” you teased, glancing at Joel from the corner of your eye.

He huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Nah, darlin’. Just the ones who steal clothes and write secret poems ‘bout me.”

Your face burned. “Oh my God, you are never gonna let that go, are you?”

“Not a chance,” he smirked, shifting in his seat to face you more. “Matter of fact, I was thinkin’ ‘bout askin’ for a readin’. Since I am the subject and all.”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “I’m jumping down this hill.”

Joel chuckled, the sound warm and deep. “C’mon now, I bet it’s real good.”

You peeked at him through your fingers. “You bet?”

He shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “Well, I only got a peek before you snatched it away. But from what I saw? Damn good.”

You dropped your hands into your lap, shaking your head. “You’re impossible.”

Joel smirked but didn’t argue.

The two of you made your way back into Joel’s car. His flannel still comfortably wrapped around you. It was like a hug.

The breeze rolled in through the cracked windows, carrying the scent of pine and the distant sound of crickets starting their nightly song. You exhaled slowly, feeling lighter than you had in days.

Joel nudged your knee with his knuckles. “Feelin’ better?”

You nodded. “Yeah. Thanks for this.”

He gave a small nod, his gaze lingering on you for just a moment longer. “Anytime, darlin’.”

The two of you enjoyed the last bit of sunlight to go down, before Joel started the car to head on out again.

“You hungry?” he asked after a moment, his voice breaking the comfortable silence.

You thought about it. “Kinda.”

He smirked. “That’s not an answer.”

You rolled your eyes. “Fine, yes.”

“Atta girl,” he chuckled, taking a slow turn onto a smaller road. It took awhile to arrive but you pulled up to a little diner, the neon “Open” sign flickering in the window. It was the kind of place you could tell hadn’t changed in years, probably had the same regulars, same menu, same old jukebox in the corner.

Joel put the car in park and turned to you. “Ain’t fancy, but it’s got good pie.”

“That’s all that matters.” you giggled.

Inside, the diner smelled like coffee and something fried. A waitress with bright red lipstick waved Joel over like she knew him. “Well, hey there, Miller. Ain’t seen you in a while.”

He nodded in greeting. “Been busy, Clara.”

Clara eyed you with a knowing glint in her gaze. “And who’s this?”

You opened your mouth, but Joel beat you to it. “This here’s my friend.”

Friend.

Although in high school, and at 18, you didn’t look as such. You seemed and looked a lot older than most would guess. Even with that you couldn’t help but feel a little nervous meeting an acquaintance of his.

“Well, nice to meet ya, sweetheart,” Clara said with a wink before leading you both to a booth near the window.

You slid into your seat, glancing at Joel as he casually leaned back, flipping through the menu like he hadn’t been here a million times before.

“What’s good?” you asked.

“Everything. But if you don’t get pie, you’re doin’ it wrong.”

You smirked. “That’s the second time you’ve mentioned pie. Got a sweet tooth, Miller?”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Just know what’s good in life.”

You found yourself smiling more than you had in a long time. It was nice.

Clara came back with two glasses of water, setting them down with a knowing smile. “Y’all take your time. I’ll get your usual, Miller.”

Joel just huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Ain’t even gotta ask, huh?”

Clara winked. “Not when you’re that predictable, sweetheart.”

You watched their exchange with amusement. “So, what’s ‘the usual’?”

Joel took a sip of water, eyeing you over the rim of his glass. “Burger, fries, and a slice of pecan pie. Coffee for later.”

You snorted. “Classic.”

“Damn right.” He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table.

Clara scribbled in her notepad. “And what about you, hon?”

You glanced at Joel, then back at her. “I’ll take what he’s having.”

Joel smirked. “Now we’re talkin’.”

The conversation flowed easily as you waited for your food. Joel told you about how he used to come here when he first moved to town, how Clara had been giving him shit ever since. He teased you about your lack of pie experience, claiming he was about to change your life. If it wasn’t about pie, well darn, he already had.

When the food arrived, you dug in immediately, and Joel watched with an amused smile as you took your first bite.

“Well?” he asked expectantly.

You pretended to think about it, just to mess with him. “It’s… alright, I guess.”

Joel scoffed. “Alright? C’mon now, don’t lie to me.”

You grinned, finally giving in. “Okay, okay, it’s amazing.”

“Damn straight it is.” He leaned back, looking proud. “Knew I had good taste.”

You shook your head with a laugh. The night felt lighter than anything had in a long time. And maybe, just maybe, you weren’t as alone as you thought.

After finishing your meal, you leaned back against the booth, content in a way you hadn’t been in a long time. The warmth of the food, the comfort of the diner, and the easy company of Joel all made the weight on your shoulders feel just a little lighter.

Joel took one last sip of his coffee, setting the mug down with a quiet clink. “Feelin’ better?”

You nodded, stretching your arms slightly. “Yeah. That hit the spot.”

“Told ya,” he said with a smirk, wiping his hands on a napkin. “Can’t go wrong with good food.”

Clara swung by again, dropping the check on the table. “On the house, Miller. Consider it a welcome back.”

Joel shot her a look, but she just winked before disappearing behind the counter.

You arched an eyebrow. “Guess you’ve got connections.”

He sighed, shaking his head. “Yeah, yeah. She ain’t gonna let me pay even if I tried.”

With that, Joel slid out of the booth, nodding toward the door. “C’mon, let’s get outta here.”

The night air was crisp when you stepped outside, the neon glow of the diner sign buzzing softly in the quiet. Joel unlocked the car, and you climbed in, the leather seat cool against the back of your legs. As he pulled out onto the road, the hum of the tires on asphalt was the only sound for a while.

“Where to now?” you asked, watching as the town lights started to fade behind you.

Joel drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “Figure I’ll get you home before it gets too late.”

A part of you deflated at that. You weren’t ready to go back. Back to the empty house, the silence that pressed in too tight. But you'd understand, he probably has places to be.

Joel must’ve noticed, because he glanced at you, brows furrowing slightly. “…Unless you ain’t in a rush.”

You hesitated, then shook your head. “Not really. But I don't want to keep you from anything either."

He considered that for a moment, then made a slow turn down another quiet road, leading further into the countryside. “Alright,” he said simply. “Then let’s take the long way. I'm in no rush."

The stars were bright above, unbothered by the town’s glow. The road curved and stretched into open fields, the kind of place where the world felt endless. You rolled down the window slightly, letting the night breeze ruffle through your hair. It smelled like earth and freedom.

You glanced over at him, his face lit in flashes by the headlights reflecting off the road signs. There was something about the way he carried himself—like he had spent too many nights behind the wheel, too many miles between him and whatever home used to mean.

“You ever think about goin’ back?” you asked, voice quieter than you meant it to be.

Joel didn’t look at you, just kept his gaze steady on the road. “Back where?”

You shrugged. “Wherever you left.”

He was quiet for a long time. You started to think he might not answer at all. But then he sighed, a sound deep and tired.

“Sometimes,” he admitted. “But places change. People change. What you leave behind don’t always stay the way you remember it.”

You turned that over in your mind. You weren’t sure if he was talking about a town or a person. Maybe both.

“Maybe you don’t go back,” you said, staring out at the dark expanse beyond the window. “Maybe you just find somethin’ new.”

Joel hummed, as if considering that. “Maybe.”

You let your head rest against the seat, letting the motion of the car lull you into something close to peace. Your eyes were heavy.

The road stretched on, the world outside passing in blurred shadows. You weren’t sure how long you drove like that, just the two of you and the hum of the engine filling the silence.

Eventually, Joel turned onto a familiar road, the one that led back to your house. You felt the weight of reality creeping back in, the night’s magic fading at the edges.

When he pulled up in front of your place, he left the engine running, drumming his fingers against the wheel again. “You alright?”

You nodded, but didn’t move to open the door.

Joel studied you for a second, then reached into the center console and pulled out something small. He held it out to you.

You took it, frowning slightly as you turned it over in your palm. A key.

You looked up at him. “What’s this?”

Joel exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Spare key. To my place. If you ever need to get out for a bit. Address taped on, my phone number too." He grabbed the flannel that you had originally left in the backseat and placed it on your lap. “This too.”

Your fingers curled around the key, and you grabbed the flannel.

You swallowed past the lump in your throat. “Thanks, Joel. Seriously."

He just nodded. “Get some sleep, darlin’.”

You climbed out of the car, the key warm in your palm. As you stepped onto the porch, you glanced back.

Joel was still watching, making sure you got inside safe.

And somehow, knowing that made the night feel a little less lonely.

Stepping into the house, you felt the wall of cold surround your skin. The light from Joel's car had slowly faded away as you removed your shoes. Your chest had never felt so heavy. Of course reality would come and settle into your bones soon enough.

You walked through your kitchen, the stove light was still turned on lighting your way around the house. You questioned if your parents were even home yet.

You walked down the hall, and put your bag down in your room. You had placed the Joel’s flannel down on your bed. You walked back to the bathroom to start brushing your teeth. The taste of the pie still lingering in your mouth, only to be washed away with peppermint.

All that was left now was the memories of where he had taken you, and you'd have to find comfort in knowing that at least now, someone did care for you.

You clutched the key Joel gave you, remembering the sliver of paper that had his information on it.

"Whenever you need to call, or text, feel free. -Joel"

Along with the address that the key was for. It's a little shocking honestly. But given your circumstances, maybe it's for the best.

You climbed into bed, only to remember that it was Friday. You wouldn't be seeing Joel tomorrow. But the smell of his flannel, the earthy tones and the warmth of his cologne was comforting. More then ever, you tried to replay every moment in your head until you drifted off to sleep.

—————————————————————————————

HOLY SMOKESS, guys, this is wayyy too forward but fuck I wantedd it to progress cause my ideas for it going forward are just 10x better gaha. I really wanted to spend time working on their communication and I think I really nailed it. Lovin' this anywayssss. So here we are!!! So excited. Let me know what y'all think <3 Also lmk if you want to be added to the taglist! Also if you read more on Ao3 and would prefer that I can look into it, just lmk! <3

Taglist: @miss-mistinguett @astro3des @prfctwilliams @onetimebaby @mal023 @thejoywillburnoutthepain @theoraekenslover @itsagirlthings

#joel miller x you #joel miller fic #joel miller self insert #joel miller x reader #joel x reader #pedro pascal #the last of us #joel miller smut #joel tlou #joel miller #Spotify

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unstablegoldfish · 3 months ago

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[Your Gentle Comfort] 18+

Black Sheep - Chap 3

Joel Miller x F!reader - Teacher x F!Student

Warning: AGE GAP: After all it is a highschool student x teacher. Light swearing. Slow burn story. Being neglected by your parents. Emotional confrontation. [More will be added as the story progresses.]

Word Count: 2.9k (Wish it was longer, but you've been waiting long enough)

Chapter 2 -> Click here!

Chapter 4 -> Click here!

Fic Masterlist -> Click here!

Chapter Summary: Unsure of what the day will hold this time. But you're still looking forward to seeing Joel Miller even knowing that you're going to have a chat with him about what's going on. It's okay, you can do it.

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Another day rolls around, after everything yesterday brought, you weren't sure how everything would go today. Looking outside your window from bed you at least knew you wouldn't be walking through rain on the way to school. Only walking with light clouds.

You lived in Oregon so rain wasn't completely uncommon nor were the clouds. Nearing September it was pretty frequent to have rainfalls. Just not as heavy as yesterday.

You had gotten dressed, wearing jeans and your favorite zip-up sweater. You packed your bag and made your lunch. Brushed your teeth and put on socks. You were ready to get going to school. You said goodbye to your empty house, leaving you with an empty soul.

The leaves were starting to fall onto the sidewalks, and the weather was becoming chillier. Your perfect kind of weather was just on the horizon. It's sad to know that this'll be your last year of walks during the fall season. So you'll take as much of it in as possible.

You finally made it to the sidewalk of the front doors. Opposite to you, Mr. Miller was walking along as well. He must have come from the staff parking lot. At this rate you were going to arrive at the same time.

"Mornin', how's it goin'?" he asks in a friendly manner. He definitely wanted to check up on you.

His smile was warm. "Morning." was said softly from your voice. You try and shoot a smile, but it wasn't hiding anything from how you were feeling. "Doin' okay." Was the best you could say.

You guys walk up to the door and he holds it for you, he was polite.

"Give me a shout. whenever." He was trying his best to make sure you knew he was someone you could talk to, he didn't want it to seem like he only cared once.

You hummed a simple yes and followed him down to class.

Most teachers would say they were there for you, but would never follow up on it. You never blamed them, there's more students then just you after all.

You and Mr. Miller entered the classroom. It was just going to be the two of you for awhile, you'd never show up this early but recently you've had a motivation to do so. Just happens that the motivation was the only one in the room with you in this moment.

Should I say something?

"Mr. Miller...?"

"S'up?"

"I just wanted to thank you for everything, especially for the ride home. I...I didn't mean to tear up on you before I left your car, it's just that I know my house is empty and cold. Not really the best thing to come home to."

Unsure if that made any sense, you tried to continue.

"It's just you— you've shown me warmth in the first 2 days, closest I've ever felt to the sun if you get me...?"

"Well, I’m real glad I could make ya feel a little better. My goal as a teacher’s makin’ sure everybody knows they got a safe place here. But listen, you ain’t ever gotta apologize for cryin’, alright? Given the circumstances, it’s ‘bout as normal as can be."

you smile, it was comforting to hear that. Especially in his voice. The feelings you felt for him were dangerous. You were a match ready to be lit, but only by him. If you ever wanted things to move another direction it would be by your own accord.

"Gonna pull ya outta class today to talk a bit more, if that’s alright with ya?"

you give a nod as you made your way through the desks.

You took a seat at your desk and Mr. Miller talked to you about his sheep farm fantasies, and how he ended up becoming a teacher in the first place. You enjoyed this time with him and you thought you should come into school earlier from now on. You wanted one on one time with him badly. Now that you had his warmth you wouldn't be able to leave it behind. You made sure to look at the time to remember just how early. You just hoped Mr. Miller was a persistent guy when it came to timing.

Some students started joining the class, along with your tiny awareness friend. He sat beside you but no conversation arose.

You grabbed your pencils and booklet out of your bag and started writing even before class started. Granted it never really felt like work when you wrote for English, it relaxed you more than anything.

You peaked up from your papers to see Mr. Miller studying you. His arm rested on his desk with his finger to his lip. He was in deep focus, but as soon as he caught your eyes he glanced down at his book. When he made moves like that, the want to act upon it became stronger.

Your friend whispers over to you “He’s eyeing you up again, what’s going on? Also you never told me why you stayed after class the other day??”

That was the first time he’s ever asked that many questions at once. Since when did he care so much about what happens to you?

“I think you’re being weird. But he talked to me about my paper. That’s all.” you whisper back. You still wanna deny what your friend thinks he’s seeing, but if it was obvious to your clueless buddy it's just a matter of time before more people catch on, no?

You hear the bell ring as a few other classmates scurry into the door. Mr. Miller had stood up from his corner to greet the class. He began to use the chalk against the board.

"Weekend Activities" was what he revealed. "Go on and get started writin’. Y’all got ten minutes to finish up this assignment, then I’ll get ya rollin’ on our project work."

He makes his way back over to his desk. He calls you over with a smile.

You made your way over, he looks at you with with soft eyes.

"Do you mind if we step outside for a minute?" He asks with caution, not trying to overwhelm you. You knew it was coming but you didn't think it would be this soon.

"Oh".

You then remembered the clothes he had given to you to borrow from yesterday. However...you forgotten them at home. He leads you out into the hallway. Before he even got a chance to speak you started.

"If this is about....the clothes. I forgot them. I'm sorry." you whisper hoping no one would hear you.

he lets out a quiet chuckle. "No, no. It's fine, I ain’t got no use for 'em anyhow. Keep 'em, girlie."

GIRLIE?

Left in shock he began to speak regardless. "Let's have a conversation in my office 'kay?" His tone was calming. You knew what he was about to ask you. You probably hold the record for the amount of teachers watchlists you're on. At least they tried to care unlike your parents.

You weren't really sure how Mr. Miller was going to approach this situation however, would it be different? With his ways of authority and softness being well balanced, and your quick liking to him, maybe opening up more wouldn't be such a bad thing.

He had unlocked the office door once more. Inside revealed a cleaner space, less boxes, lots of books. The sheep figurines and trinkets still stayed around. It was comforting to see.

"Kept your sheep then?" You ask.

"Couldn't possibly get rid of 'em." He paused and picked up one. "This one here reminds me of back home."

He hands you a magnet, one that had a heard of white sheep and dead center in the middle was a black one. The fence read "Long Creek Oregon". He was originally from there?

"It's cute." you chuckle. You're preceptive, so you think this is his way of saying he feels the same as you. A black sheep in all the white ones.

"Back home, I weren’t much different from you. Had to fend for myself, no safety net to catch me. Bein’ on your own like that—it’s a mighty scary place to be." His eyes placed softly on you, looking up from the figurine you felt your eyes lightly glazed with tear when you met his eyes. He gets it.

"S'ummin' you feel the same way?" He pauses and lets out a breath.

You stutter to start. You felt safe, and with him you felt an immense sense of trust. "I do… It’s just really hard being on my own all the time—expected to have all the answers by myself."

You reach over and give him back the magnet. Instead of taking it, he closes your hand softly. His hand, twice the size of yours. He was a protector.

"It’s yours, girlie. Whenever ya look at it, just remember, that sheep’s me too." He smiles back at you softly. He caresses your hand with his thumb before letting go.

"Thank you, but are you sure?"

"Most definitely" He gives you a reassuring smile. "‘Fore we head out, anything else ya wanna talk about?"

You wanted to express more of the pain your parents leave you in your daily life, or the fact your friends left you high and dry in a more in depth layer then your written assignment ever would. But it would be best to save it for another time, you wanted to save yourself from the puffy eyes and red cheeks as much as possible.

"Always, but better to save it for now. I appreciate this so much Mr.Mill-"

"Joel. It's Joel."

Your eyes were finally letting the tear slide down your cheek. His thumb reaches out to catch it.

"S'okay. I'm here for when you're ready. Only if ya want me to be. Not gonna push you into nothin' kay?" You gave him a nod. You were ever so grateful for his considerations of your feelings.

He lead you again outside of his office. You had let him know you were going to head to the bathroom again to wash up, you didn't want to be returning with tears in your eyes.

You went for a walk and decided to go to the bathroom across the school this time, during the walk you thought about his hand placement on you. Never did you ever want to give the same in return before. The idea of caressing his face was stuck in your head for awhile. You'd never think you'd want to do something like that with anyone. But after all, Joel. Joel was different. It rung in your head for a bit. Joel Miller.

You walked into the bathroom, only to be surprised by one of the girls in your past friend groups. You looked down in order to not be an upset. Then headed into one of the stalls. The beauty of a high school bathroom was the immense amount of graffiti. You'd look through it in enjoyment, but not this time. Your name was written above a drawing of a crying face. It was fine. You expected something like this to happen, they never liked how closed off you were. But deep down they were just hungry for some drama to spread around, and you knew that better then they did.

You let out a sigh. Then went to wash your hands, your old friend had left. At least you had an idea on who did it. Not like you were going to act upon it anyways, it's not like it bothered you. Right?

You slowly walked back to class, trying to enjoy it since you knew that these days were going to come to an end anyways. What was the rush?

You opened the door to class, everyone was working on their projects and there was some conversation. You were gone long enough for people to probably assume you were in the main office for something.

Mr. Miller had looked up from his desk. You met his gaze but decided to look away.

You joined your friend back at your desk, he looked at you and could tell you had an encounter.

"What happened this time?" He asks.

"A drawing in the bathroom stall. Better yet with my name."

He laughs. "Pathetic, honestly."

You nodded your head in agreement. What a waste of energy.

When you got to your desk you realized you hadn't even started the project due to the amount of times you've already been pulled out of class. You grabbed the sheet that was given as a handout yesterday to refer to. Maybe instead of dreaming about Mr. Miller this time, you could do some work.

...Oh light work. No need to worry.

You started writing your ideas out. Trying not to occasionally glance at Mr. Miller in curiosity. But with the restraint you held you managed to finish the project within 15 minutes. You were among the first students to hand it in even despite you missing most of the class this morning. Thank god you love writing.

You took the rest of class to do your own free writing. But during this time your focus was divided between your journal and Mr. Miller. You got so lost in thought that you ended up writing about him.

You were so invested in writing that you hadn't even noticed that Mr. Miller was no longer in his seat. He was no where to be found.

"That's a very lovely poem." Came from a calming tone behind you. You look and it was Mr. Miller.

Fuck.

he just read out your feelings. He knows.

"Um, yeah it's stupid really." You said shakenly. You didn't know what to do, how would he react? I was his student. He wasn't supposed to know.

"Not at all." He replied. He walked past and you got a glimpse of a smirk on his face, and the slight shake of his head.

What am I gonna do ‘bout ya, darlin'?

Fuck...

Your thoughts blurred by the sound of the bell, it was time to get out of here.

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Okay, only took me a literal year. Not actually. I just didn't have the motivation for this at the time. I had just gotten a laptop recently that made this a breeze to create. However I did wish it was a little longer, but I can use that for next chapter as you guys have waited LONG enough for this one. So sorry, but thank you for your continued support for this to happen!! Love you guys endlessly!! Also really tried working with his accent on this one lmk what you think.

Taglist: @miss-mistinguett @astro3des @prfctwilliams @onetimebaby @mal023 @thejoywillburnoutthepain @theoraekenslover

#joel miller x you #joel miller fic #joel miller self insert #joel miller x reader #joel x reader #pedro pascal #teacher x reader #teacher x student #the last of us #joel #joel tlou

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unstablegoldfish · 2 years ago

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[Your Gentle Comfort] 18+

Sense of Belonging - Chap 2

Joel Miller x F!reader - Teacher x F!Student

Warning: AGE GAP: After all it is a highschool student x teacher. Light swearing. Slow burn story. Being neglected by your parents. Emotional confrontation. Mentions of kidnapping [More will be added as the story progresses.]

Word Count: 3.6k (let me know if u want shorter or longer!!)

Chapter 1 —-> Click here!

Chapter 3 --> Click here!

Chapter Summary: Rainy day hits your home town, it gets you feeling glum whilst reflecting on your relationships. Your gloomy attitude also has someone turning their head to show you it’s ok.

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The next morning arises. You felt your tired eyes and your brain starting up for the day. You’re then completely woken up with memories of yesterday flooding through your head. Mr.Miller was the main character in each memory or thought, they featured his voice and the unexpected softness that came from his lips while he spoke to you. The way he dressed was picture perfect.

He made you feel something, but you weren’t quite sure what and whatever you were feeling. Though you were sure of one thing. You liked it and it was the first feeling you were sure of. As wrong as it seemed, you were pretty sure you had caught feelings for him.

At first you were thinking you had daddy issues, which isn’t completely off course. Your relationship with your father wasn’t as perfect as most father daughter relationships. You never thought much of it though, I mean it was what you were used to. A closed off father who was too busy with work to talk to his own daughter. So when Mr.Miller approached you saying you had your shit together, you felt like you were noticed.

You pulled yourself out of bed, and left the warm comfort of your blankets. You made your way to the kitchen where you prepared a quick breakfast. Your father had already left for work and that’s how it usually was. Your mother? She was usually gone too.

The house was gloomy and quite. You look out the window of your kitchen and it was grey and rainy. Shit. You were going to have to walk in the rain. Before you were looking forward to walking to school. Now you wish you could stay home and curl back in bed, be nice and dry and let yourself drift off. However, any absences seen by your parents would leave them angry at you and you didn’t want that. It was the reason your friend group didn’t like you. They said you didn’t have a sense of thrill in you. But they didn’t know about your everyday lifestyle, so you didn’t push a reasoning to them when confronted about your “boringness.”

You’d rub your eyes and walk back to your room to put on some clothes for the day. You decided right then and there that it would be a 0 percent effort day. Sweats and sweater is what you wore, comfy and practical. You put your phone in your sweater pocket, wired ear buds placed in your ears and you were ready. You finished your hot look off with a jacket and your back pack and found yourself in the doorway ready to leave. Looking for your umbrella, you were unfortunate and it had already been taken. Great.

You did a swift jog to school, this was another reason why you were grateful living only 5 minutes away. Thankfully it wasn’t a hard down pour and just frequent drips of water. It must have been raining all night due to the sides of streets being completely flooded. If only you had checked the weather before bed last night.

You made it to the school. Looking at the path that lead to the entrance, you remember seeing Mr.Miller for the first time. The thought of him struck your gut with a punch, he was going to use you as a class example for something. You sure weren’t dressed as an example today, knowing it was raining maybe it would slide. Either way, you felt bad and nervous for your future embarrassment.

You entered the class, looking at his desk. There he was. He sat reading a leather covered book, glasses placed on the bridge of his nose. You continue to walk to your desk. He looks up at you to see you drenched in water and removing your jacket before sitting down. His lips parted, did he feel bad?

“What happened to you?” Your friend asked you with worry painted on his face. This was unusual. He never started a conversation with him being worried about you, let alone start one.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just got splashed by a car on my way here I guess. Not too big of a deal.” A lie, it purely was just the rain, but oh was it such a big deal. If your parents cared about you for at least 5 minutes you may have been fortunate enough to get a ride, and had the opportunity to wear something a little nicer. They could have done the bare minimum too and leave you an umbrella which you would’ve been fine with. But nope.

It wasn’t until you sat down that you realized just how soaked you were. Your pants stuck to your legs and the temperature of it brought shock to your eyes. Cold. You were in for a long unpleasant day. You had crossed your arms and placed your head snug inside, just to lift your head again at the sound of your name.

“Come with me.” Mr.Miller had said, his eyes looked down at you. No sense of any emotion. You couldn’t read him. You lift your body up and followed him outside the classroom, hall empty.

“Let’s get you dry.” Though the hall was deserted, it was filled with him. Just those words alone made you feel something, it felt so wrong. He was just doing his job. But knowing someone was looking after you felt nice. Were you this desperate for attention from an older figure?

You didn’t reply to him. You only looked up at him a couple of times on the walk to who knows where. You only went on to admire him. He wore a different shirt this time, it was a blue dress shirt. The colour fit him well. You thought it was crazy just how easily his figure took your mind off of things. You thought he was hot and it drove you nuts. What would it be like to touch him?

“This school is very generous.” he said with a smirk. “I get my own office outside of the classroom.” Seeing the goofy smile on his face just from the knowledge that he had an extra space made you wanna laugh. But you held it back, because maybe that would be weird. Plus you didn’t want to ruin the moment for him.

He guides you into the room that you swore you’ve never seen before and shuts the door behind him. You glanced around, It was a small room, not much bigger than a walk in closet. The far wall housed a desk that faced towards the window leading outside. There was a heavy downpour outside, thank god you left early or you would have been stuck in that. There was a ton of shelves that filled the blank spaces of the walls too, mostly empty except for a few. They housed a bunch of different papers, folders and books. One even had another sheep figurine.

“You like sheep?” you said to break the scilence besides his rustling in a box. You hear a chuckle from the man inside the box.

“Yeah I do.” he replies

“Why? Aren’t they really noisy?”

“I’suppose, don’t laugh. But I’ve wanted to own a farm and raise sheep.”

That would explain the reoccurring figurines. It was a cute dream from a man like him.

“Here they are.” He hands you a pair of joggers and a long sleeved shirt that had a symbol of a horse on it.

“Oh, thanks.” Your face smeared with confusion. How does he just have clothes that would fit me

“Ah— I have a niece. My brother left‘em. Somehow ended up in here n I remembered about ‘em. She doesn’t wear ‘em anymore anyways.” He responds as if he read your mind.

“Convenient.” Convenient that he just knew what you were thinking.

He reaches for the door, but hesitates to open it after glancing back at you. “Mind I ask something?” he says calmly.

You knew what was coming. I mean who wouldn’t ask, it was kind of weird for someone to just show up completely drenched in water. This was the part you hated most about any sort of interaction with somebody. Questioning.

You stand still, gazing up at him. You weren’t sure if you wanted him to ask or not. Because once he did, you didn’t know what was going to happen to you next. Any sort of emotion could lash out. It was best that he didn’t have to go through that, especially on his second day.

You were basically shaking. Maybe signs of tears starting to develop in your eyes as well.

“its’okay. Maybe next time.”

It was clear he didn’t wanna push you into a more uncomfortable situation. You were unbelieved by the fact he just let it go. It would come back around to hit you in the face I imagined, but you’d be ready at least.

Once more you’re walking down the hallway. You both split ways as you were going to the women’s washroom to change. Nothing like having wet clothing in your bag.

You get back to class. Seemed everything was back in order as Mr.Miller was reading his book again, and glasses resting on his nose. A literal librarian.

Your friend notices your arrival but doesn’t pay you any attention. Thank god. You didn’t think you could handle anymore questions.

And just like that, students began to fill their desks and the bell had rung. Class was to start again.

Mr.Miller stood up from his corner and walked his way into the middle of everyone’s view.

“Alright, as we discussed yesterday you will have a prompt to write about, grab your materials.” Students begin to shuffle in their bags trying to grab what they needed, you joined in too. The tapping of the chalk began. He was writing the prompt.

“What angers you?” is what was written.

“I’ll give you all 10 minutes to write whatever comes to mind.” You make eye contact with Mr.Miller. “—and yes, after you’ve written, I’ll be reviewing if you’ve filled the page.”

Goddamn. You knew you were gonna be asked about it, but this way was never an option for you. You were always expected to use your voice when expressing your emotions, but never written. You liked this. This was do-able. But it only made you wonder, was this the actual prompt he wanted to use? Or was it for your sake to express your unsaid emotions comfortably?

Often in the 10 minutes you’d look up from your writing to see Mr.Millers eyes on you. You were pouring out all the details of how this morning sucked, and somehow even more from the day to day routines you faced. It bothered you a smidge that Mr.Miller was going to read it eventually, but you felt he deserved to know after taking the time to help you out. You felt appreciated… and again. Noticed. Noticed that you weren’t alone in the pain you felt, and that someone was there. Mr.Miller was there.

You continued to press on through the jungle of thoughts to clear the path on paper. You eyes flooded a few times and you felt your pulse grow stronger. But you had a sense of relief after the time was up. It felt nice to free those emotions. However the real test would be how you’d feel after someone’s read what you’ve wrote.

“That being time, if you could place your paper on my desk that would be great.” he taps a spot on his desk. Students then got up to place their papers on the spot. You nervously made your way over to, placing it on the pile. You catch his gaze again, he then lets out a soft smile that only you could see. Then journey your way back to your desk.

Upon sitting down you laid your head down in your arms again. Thoughts piled in your head about the fact he smiled at you, how he kept a watchful gaze on you and how his calm voice sounded earlier in his office. You trailed off into the ‘what if’s’ … what if he hugged me? what if I hugged him? I want to tell him I’m thankful.

While you dug around your thoughts on Mr.Miller. He continued the class onto an assignment he’d be moving you guys into in the next few days. With that, a handout was being distributed that discussed ways you can enhance your writing. He walked from desk to desk making sure everyone got one and once arriving at yours he tapped your head to get your attention on the paper. Reading it was fun, you’ve always liked writing and being descriptive when talking about your own fantasy world. This class was going to be a breeze.

When reading over the handout, you notice Mr.Miller flipping through the papers on his desk. Eventually he pulled one out. He glanced at you but you tried to look away as fast as you could to pretend you didn’t notice him taking it out. You had a feeling that paper may had been yours. You slowly look back in his direction. His eyes were wider than they were before. Either a very interesting piece of work, or it had to be yours. I mean, he seemed to be the type to show very little emotion with his eyes, even when he smiled his eyes didn’t move with it. You look back down at the paper in front of you to avoid being caught looking at his expression. But it was hard not to look away. You wanted to know what he was thinking and you were best doing that by watching someone’s face change.

But just like that the bell had rung. It was already time to be moving on to your next class.

Mr.Miller clears his throat, looks at you then towards the main area of the class. “See you all tomorrow—“ He paused. He then called your name and asked you to stay.

What now?

The class had left and just like that the door had shut. It was now only you and Mr.Miller in this classroom. He walks over to you and places a chair next to your desk and has a seat.

“Normally I don’t read over the work. I only check it to see if people gave effort.” He says. His eyes were a deep brown, it was the first time you noticed.

“You’re going through sometin’ for the fact you filled both sides and what your lil story was about.” For the first time you heard some concern in his voice. You knew you put a lot on that page. Somethings you don’t even remember so it could be anything of what you’ve been experiencing at home.

He placed his hand on your lap. Your eyes widened. A large pause commenced as you just stared into his eyes. He then finally opened his mouth to speak.

“I’m here for you.”

Without another word, or thought hitting your brain. Your eyes filled with tears and you were left to crumble on the spot. Eventually you felt his embrace. His arms were solid and they felt like hard brick walls to protect what ever entered. It was the first time you felt safe. You only continued to sob into his shoulder. No one’s ever told me that…

“I— I don’t” you stutter with your words. “I don’t under stand why they treat me like they do.” You choke on your tears. You felt his hug grow a little tighter before releasing you. He looked into your eyes, the eyes which burned from the tears. He rubbed your cheek to clear the rivers that flowed down.

For the first time, you let everything release and finally not by yourself. You reassessed your darkness to someone you’ve only known for a day, but someone who seemed to get you in all of 5 minutes. It all felt like an eternity. It felt so easy to just release everything around him. It was odd. But you weren’t going to complain about it. You felt free for the first time in awhile. It was nice feeling the comfort from another human.

“T-thank you. I’m sorry.”

The crying had come to a stop.

“You shouldn’t thank me, nor apologize.” He said it with comfort. It felt real.

He still kept his gaze on you in worry. You both sat in silence for a little longer, until he spoke.

“Do you need a ride home?”

It was weird. But you really didn’t want to walk in the rain. The wet cold feeling of your clothing wasn’t so pleasant. Plus, what was the worst that could happen? He kidnaps you? He doesn’t seem like the type… Even if so, would it be so bad?

“I- I’d appreciate that, thanks.” you gave him a smile whilst rubbing your sleeve onto your cheeks. You took a few deep breaths before getting up to leave.

“Remember, if you have anything you need to say. I’ll be here.” It was reassuring to hear his voice say that. You glanced at him one last time, he remained in the seat beside your desk and gave you that signature nod once more.

You journeyed off down the hall and down some stairs making a right turn into the library. You decided it was probably the more calmer place to cool off from the recent events. Maybe even peaceful enough to think about how he touched you and took you into his arms without hesitation…your heart was fluttering.

You pulled out a book from the shelf and found a place to sit. This was a better idea than completely covering your thoughts with Mr.Miller and have you drooling in public again. Problem is, this book was about romance. It only created more scenarios you could imagine with Mr.Miller. You didn’t think they’d roam this far… God am I disgusting?

You glance up from your book eyeing the printer by the librarians desk. Mr.Miller was there collecting papers. He was everywhere. Even though you told yourself to stop and how he was only being a teacher trying to help out you couldn’t help it. Why’d he have to be so damn attractive?!?

The bell had rung and you scurried off to your next class. Keeping the book you had taken out for…later use.

Again same routine as before, dozing off in your thoughts but still managing to grip on to reality so you could catch your name being called at any moment. You couldn’t get over the fact that soon you’d be in his car. Completely immersed into a part of his life. The smell of his car, wether it was dirty or clean. It would tell a story of who he was and it only made him that much more intriguing.

———————————————————————————

The school day ended. Leaving your last class with your heart thumping loudly. You swore anyone who walked by would hear it. You made your way to the front doors, just to see that it was still pouring rain. Mr.Miller stood there waiting with a book bag in hand and an umbrella. It seemed he was waiting for you. He looked up to see you, standing more straight then he was before and gave a nod. You both left out the door while he opened the umbrella.

A short journey to the car later and you were in his car. You slightly looked around, the car was decent, but it wasn’t clean to perfection. It felt right. The smell is what hit you the hardest. It smelt exactly like his cologne which stuffed butterflies in your stomach. You liked the smell of him mixed with it. It was a drug.

Now came the awkward part, the part where he’d ask you for your address to which you didn’t think about beforehand. He’d now know where you lived when he’d drive you. But you slid it off your shoulder.

You told him where about he had to go, and soon the 2 of you were off. The sound of the wheels in the puddles was satisfying. You were so lucky in this moment to experience comfort during a time like this. If only your own parents cared as much.

For the most part the ride was silent, every now and then he’d ask you a random question like what your favourite colour was or what day of the week you preferred. It was a nice distraction.

The car comes to a stop on your empty driveway. As expected no one was home.

“Thanks again.” You give him a smile and move your hand towards the handle of the door. But before you could leave he grabs your hand.

“You’re crying again.” He says comfortably.

He was right, your eyes were flooded over. So strange. So unexpected.

“It just feels nice to be cared about.” you reply. Maybe not the full reason you were crying but it had to be one.

You then left the car and made your way to your door, giving a wave as he nodded back to you.

He never moved the car until you had stepped a foot into the doorway. Then just like that he vanished down your street as if nothing had happened.

He’s just a teacher, he’s just a teacher. Teachers wouldn’t drive you home though would they?

You enter your bedroom, taking off then laying the clothes he gave you on the bed. For whatever reason you grabbed them and smelt them. Upon that reaction they smelt just like him. He must’ve had them for awhile for how densely they smelt like him. Either way it was nice. It gave you a sense of comfort in your gloomy house and that was never going to bother you.

But just like that, you came to the conclusion on this day. You did in fact have a crush on Mr.Miller. Now to find ways to spend more time with him.

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How’re we feeling? 😭 This was a crazy chapter with the information dump but hopefully it was ok. Overall hope it was good :) Not sure what else to say :) Have a goodnight/day :)

NOTE: If you’re wondering where the next chapters at, check out my master list, It will be constantly updated on its progress! Also, I’m totally open to any suggestions or questions you have about this fic! Let me know in comments, anonymously, dms…. whatever floats your boat! <3

Taglist: @wrathofcats @welovedilfs333 (tag not working rip)

#joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #pedro pascal #joel x reader #joel miller self insert #joel #self insert #teacher x reader #teacher x student

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unstablegoldfish · 2 years ago

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My Series:

- Your Gentle Comfort -

Joel Miller x F!reader - Teacher x F!Student

★ - A New Face

★ - Sense of Belonging

★ - Black Sheep

★ - Long Way Home

★ - Key to Escape

★ - TBD - Paused sorry!!

★ - TBD

- Joel Miller Shorts -

★ - Swear You'll Stay

Swear you'll stay is a simple seeing Joel goodbye from the countryside. You wish you didn't have to say goodbye.

★ - TBD

#joel miller x you #masterlist #joel miller x reader

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unstablegoldfish · 2 years ago

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[Your Gentle Comfort] 18+

A New Face - Chap 1

set in 2012

Joel Miller x F!reader - Teacher x F!Student

Warning: AGE GAP: After all it is a highschool student x teacher. Light swearing. Slow burn story. [More will be added as the story progresses. Also please be aware this is my first time writing a fic so the story will come out slower and may not be to tip top shape, I’ll try my best!!]

Word Count: 2.4k

Chapter 2 -> Click here!

Fic Masterlist -> Click Here!

Summary: You’ll be starting your last year of high-school. Even though you’re expecting same old, it seems things might have a change when a new face appeared causing changes in your mind set.

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Summer came and went, and suddenly you were back to your old routine. Wake up, eat something, brush your teeth. Whatever. You swore you could do it all with your eyes closed.

You’d leave to walk to school shortly and it was the only thing you seemed actually happy doing. Minus the go to school part. You always used this time to let your thoughts wander and let music play, it was your way to show strangers that you had no interest in the simple “Hello.” or “Good morning!” said to you on your walk. It’s not that you disliked them, but more for your self isolation you try to keep while moving.

Upon arrival you can see some past friends of yours entering the school doors. Memories of the group flash through your head. They come to a stop when you notice a man you’re unfamiliar with. It was a small school, so you were pretty sure you knew the names of every student and teacher, assuming he was one.

Walking though the halls was always difficult. People loved to stop and chat, but unfortunately for them they’d deal with the consequences that you’d like to show them. You’d plow past them without thinking. You simply didn’t care. You just wanted to come in and out, go home and rest. School was all too much.

You make it to your first class which happened to be learning about the English Language. As if you needed to learn more about it. You then found a seat next to a friend, you glimpse over at the teachers desk. It was the unfamiliar face from before. You’re left curious.

Whilst looking at him, he looked at you too. A smile grew on his face as he nodded his head. Some sort of male greeting you supposed and returned the greeting with a small wave.

“Do you know who he is?” You lean over and whisper to your friend. Seems he wasn’t paying attention to you. Headphones on and though he was physically in the room, mentally? Hell no. You didn’t mind being ignored, you were close enough friends and knew this was a usual occurrence he presented you with. But this time curiosity got the better of you and decided to get his attention.

“Hey, you there?” as you tap his shoulder. He looks up at you confused. He lifts a speaker from his ear.

“Do you know who Mr.NewGuy is?”. He glances at the unknown figure and back at you. Shrugs his shoulders and continues on with whatever world he was in before. Oh well. I guess you’d have to be patient to find out in the next 5 minutes.

Glancing around you notice the room was pretty empty, there wasn’t any posters on the wall or a bookshelf that’s been usually covered in clutter. Just a desk and an assortment of little trinkets that this new teacher must’ve used as decoration. Your favourite was a small sheep figurine. How bizarre.

The bell had rung and it was the cue to start class. The sudden noise of chalk on the board was loud and squeaky as the unfamiliar man had wrote his name on the board.

“Mr. Miller.”

It had a ring to it. It was definitely more solid then the names you’re used to such as: Mrs. Densworth and Mr. Cosby.

“Hello students, If it wasn’t already clear I am you’re new english teacher and I’ll be guiding you through this semesters class.” He seemed confident that he knew how to settle a class. You turned your head and noticed that he had everyone’s attention. He now holds the title of being interesting, to you at least.

“Subjects you’ll be learning are going to be very basic. So I expect top tier work. Some of the topics are; creative writing, composition and your favourite, properly formatted arguments.” The sound of devastation rose in the class.

English being one of your favourites you were eager to see how this would play out. Knowing the stuff you wrote about you were interested to hear Mr.Millers thoughts on your work and see if he truly was a big deal. He presented himself as one, so you crossed your fingers.

“Each morning I’ll be selecting a prompt and I’ll give you some time to write what you think. I’m expecting you all to have paper and pencil by tomorrow.” He gave his explanation clear. Even though this was just a normal routine of things, you couldn’t help but think about the way his voice sounded in your ears. The strict tone made you shiver…you didn’t mind it. You decided to have the upper hand and pull out your notebook and pencil. Show him you were already on top of things.

You could tell he noticed, by the way you looked up and caught eyes.

“Or some of you can already be prepared. I’m in shock.” he let out a soft chuckle and gave u a smirk.

“Anyhow, for the rest of the this class, I’ll be going over some expectations.” He continued to talk but you had zoned out. You just gazed at him while he walked from one end of the board to the other. He was making sure he presented himself loud and clear to the class by making eye contact, but for whatever reason his eyes seemed drawn to yours. Like a magnet. They lasted on you way longer than the rest.

The man only continued to walk, this time past each desk. You felt nervous as he drew closer towards yours. He passes and just from that you got a smell of his cologne. It was nice. Nothing over powering from what you were used to. The males at your school were quite stupid when it came to cologne or deodorant for that matter.

He broke up a conversation in the back and made his way up the rows of desks. He then resumed his rules and what he’d expect from this class. As much as you wanted to float off into the intoxicating thoughts of this new teacher, you still wanted good marks so you tried your best to focus. However the idea of focusing was unimaginably difficult when he kept looking at you with soft eyes.

The bell soon rung, and everyone was gathering their things to get ready for their next class.

“Alright, I’ll see you all tomorrow. Again, you all better have paper and a pencil” he said while most people rushed out, you waited for the scurrying to settle.

Standing next to you he whispers “Thank you for being prepared.” He gave a smile, and you returned it while walking towards the door.

Before you left for good, you made sure to give him one more glance before you left. Your friend appears at your side and started speaking. “Um…Was it just me or was he eyeing you up all class?” his voice filled with concern.

“Who?” You knew he was clearly talking about Mr.Miller, but you wanted him to think you were clueless.

“The goddamn teacher?! He was eyeing you up like you were his next meal. Shit are you ever clueless.” He sighed. But you only began to laugh.

“I don’t know, maybe he was just trying to engage with the class. Don’t look so deeply into things” you sighed. But your friend just stared at you raising an eyebrow.

“Whatever, I’ll see you when I see you.” You walked off to find your way to the cafeteria, this would be your break to do studying in the near future. But for now a snack to fill the time will do. You stood in line, only to see Mr.Miller walk by in the hallway locking eyes again. You looked straight down at the floor. This time It was different when it was unexpected. Flicked by reality you order what you wanted and found a spot to sit and wait.

Your mind starts processing all the information that just happened. A teacher was looking at me…not just looking but STARING. It didn’t really bother you in the way it maybe should have. You just believed that you were looking into it too deeply just like your friend. Your words had a point and you should stick to them.

The bell finally sang its song and you were making it to your next class that Mrs.Densworth would be teaching. You knew this class was going to suck, after all math wasn’t really your forte. Rather than engaging your focus to the words she was saying you drifted off staring at the clock and watched it move forward. One. Tic. At. A. Time. Your thoughts trailed off into other things, those things lead to other thoughts, then those thoughts lead to him. Mr.Miller. Rather than just his voice and the power he seemed to uphold, it was his appearance. His brown greyish hair from the top of his head that made its way down to his face. The thought of his whole physique gave you butterflies. He was built to withstand a zombie apocalypse. If he had to, he’d be able to keep you safe.

Your thoughts cut off by the noise of an irritating voice.

“Hello?? Anyone home??” You realize that Mrs.Densworth was calling your name for the past minute. Everyone staring at you confused.

“Oh, my apologies. What’s the issue?” You swore when you reached to your mouth you were drooling.

“Just for attendance.” She simply replied.

You felt embarrassed, face hot, sweaty palms. You didn’t like when you lost focus like that. But it was hard not to. Especially when you remembered the white button up shirt he wore that had rolled up sleeves, they showed of his forearms, they were thick and powerful… Shit trailing off again.

After writing a few notes down and getting some information for the class it was already time to leave. The day was moving fast and you weren’t complaining. As you walked your eyes were kept wide in order to see your gloomy friend. Unfortunately once traveling through most of the school he was no where to be found. Maybe you’d shoot him a text. No reply.

You didn’t really have many friends in school. Your one male friend was only half a dumbass and didn’t annoy you much so he was safe to stick around. If you were talking to a younger version of yourself right now, she’d be so surprised to know you have a male friend. You always found them a little disgusting or annoying.

You headed to the cafeteria just like you did for second block, only this time for lunch. Being borderline friendless didn’t matter much to you. You didn’t want to waste the time talking about … feelings.

You unpacked your lunch, a green salad and a dish of dressing. You swore the lettuce had mold on it and immediately you lost your appetite. God how old was this stuff? Knowing you now had no lunch upset you a little, but it is what it is.

After re-packing your lunch you sat and listened to music. However, not too loud because you still wanted to hear the conversations some people were having so you could keep up with school drama. Sometimes you’d be able to hear it, sometimes not. As creepy as it sounded you liked just being on the outskirts just so you could watch how people acted. It was somehow fascinating. Though, the parts where they started jumping on chairs and tables wasn’t so interesting. It was down right stupid. If your friend had joined you right now, you knew the two of you would’ve been laughing so hard over it all.

“Animals.” you heard a voice and a chuckle with it. Turning your head it was Mr.Miller. “Hi, sorry if I’m interrupting.” His voice sounded softer. You didn’t expect the man looking as tough as he did before to grow more calm.

“No, not at all.” You remove your earbuds, curious as to what he has to say. He ends up just walking past you and towards the group of animals. The strict tone of his voice reappears

“Get down. I can’t believe you high school students still have to be told how to respect things.” He shouted. The conversations of the room went quiet. There it was again, the shiver sent down your spine from his voice. You somehow loved the way he could silence a room. Not only that, but a room that gave you slight annoyance when they got crazy.

He walks back over to you and conversation from before turned to whispers.

“Sorry— I guess I have two jobs, teaching a class and trying to tell people how to behave.” he let a small smile linger. “Anyways, I was going to ask you for your name.”

Curious as to why, but you told him it anyways.

“Great! Nice to meet you, I only ask so I can use you as an example tomorrow in class. You seem to have your sh- stuff— together.” He gives you a smile and that nod again. Then disappears behind the door.

Your brain started to malfunction trying to assess everything. First, he comes to you randomly and speaks to you softly, then goes into his harsh voice again to break up the wildlife, just to come back and ask your name in a calm manner. This man had heavy emotion control. But you did catch some of it spilling out when he stuttered his words.

I’ve got my stuff together hey?

Just like that the final bell rung. You were so eager to get home to sleep. You found yourself outside walking down the sidewalk. Looking towards the road, you saw him. Windows rolled down and hair blowing with the air. Mr.Miller. You let out a chuckle for yourself because you thought he looked really funny. You wondered if he thought he was in some action movie.

You made it home. Instantly crashing on your bed. It was time to finally rest your brain from this wild rollercoaster day. It was like you spent a whole hot summer day at the zoo.

But as much as your wanted your brain to rest. Mr.Miller was the only thing keeping it moving. Only after a day of seeing this new man, you had already thought of the unthinkable.

You questioned what it would be like to feel his touch.

Was this a crush?

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Proud of you!! You made it to the end!! I have no thoughts right now but by the fact I called a bunch of energized teenagers “Wildlife”. Yes I’m currently laughing at my own wording. I’m so sorry. Anyways!!! I hope you liked the story! Please do not hesitate to send me any questions or comments :)) I appreciate it all!! Also tips on writing is also appreciated :,) unless what I did was good no idea :,) MORE TO COME!!!

Taglist: @wrathofcats

#joel x reader #teacher x reader #teacher x student #joel miller #joel miller self insert #Mr.Miller #pedro pascal #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic

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