#joel miller teacher x reader

[hr43s]

His favorite

Teacher Joel x f!reader

Summary: You’re a needy girl who needs to be taken care of, the pressure of studies weighting on your back making you sleep deprived. He is a reserved man in his 40’s thinking his age can’t attract a love interest into his life. And he’s needy too.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI . Unprotected p in v, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, Possessive Joel, reader is in her 20’s, No specific description of reader body except the gender and outfit. Age gap, no outbreak, porn w/plot, very slightly mean Joel ( he just doesn’t show much fluff ), dirty talk, no use of y/n

w/c: 2.1k (this is short, see a/n )

a/n: this is my first smut hence why it’s short !!! PLEASE GIVE CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM, I wanna learn !! Also give ideas if you have any <3 If this gets a few likes and some appreciation I might keep going with this so tell me if you’re intrested !!!

His eyes makes you shiver every time he looks at you, like thunderbolt sliding along your spine all the way down to your core making it ache so bad for him. Your head hurts like hell, the sound surrounding you feeling like a bell ringing constantly in your ears as the students around you chats in group, thinking about their projects.

“Hey ? Are you okay ? You seem distracted.” The girl next to you interrupting the bell

“Yeah, head hurt that’s all” you feel your heart pumping in your head, and hear your blood stream in your ears.

“ You better focus, I don’t want my art grade to go down just because of you” she spits

You can’t stand the people around you. Ever since you started university a few years back, everybody turned into unfriendly assholes thinking having a second of inattention can ruin their whole year

They’re not wrong, in a way. You’ve been distracted since the start of the year by your art teacher, Mr.Miller, and you can’t think of anything but his brown hair with a pinch of white snow on the roots, his messy beard with a visible growth along the neck and his square glasses makings his jawline stand out more. You want to kiss it, bite it.

There you go again, not paying attention, but at least you forgot about your headache for a second.

You take a box full of pills and a water bottle half empty out of your handbag and put one in your mouth, swallowing it with the mid temperature water making you grin.

“ Is everythin’ okay here ?” He say, him, Mr Miller. “ Noticed you were making faces and didn’t seem to focus too much, need’a hand to the nurse office ?”. You can feel your cheeks turning red, a burning sensation matching with the burning between your thighs. That’s how bad your attraction to him is.

“ I’m okay, I took a pill but thanks” you nod, putting your head back between your hands.

You suddenly feel a large hand on your shoulder, making you lift your face again.

“You’re going to the nurse office, right now” he say with a harsh tone.

He is now next to you, walking you to the nurse office. You start walking a bit wobbly, feeling his eyes on you making you forget how to walk normally. As you get near the office, his pace speeds up a bit to walk in front of you, reaching for the door to open it. He lets you in with a small gesture of his hand telling you to go in.

“Hi Mr. Miller, what’s the matter ?” The nurse says, giving him a huge smile showing her bright white teeth.

“student here lookin’ sick, I’m worried it might get worse with everybody around her chattin’” he says while putting a hand on your back between your elbows.

“I already took a pill, I’m going to be fine, just need a few minutes” your voice low, trying to avoid your head to hurt even more.

“Well I’d be happy to help but I’m going to close soon and you already took a pill, I’m afraid I can’t do anything else to ease the pain darling” she looks at you with a soft smile

She has always been so nice to you, and other people in general. All the times you came in with a bad migraine after a busy night drinking shots of vodka, or for period cramps, she’s been extremely helpful.

“I could take her in my office for the next 30 minutes. Class is ending in 5 minutes and I don’t have any class for half an hour”

You get taken aback once again from your thoughts, your eyes widening from what he just said. You can’t possibly stay in a room alone with just him, HIM, the man who haunts your day dream. The one who’s looking at you in class silently, while you wished he was touching you, feeling you right here on your desk

You’re out of the nurse office and on your way to your teacher’s office two hallways away. You can’t think straight because of your headaches. The both of you reach his door, he take the keys to his office from his back pocket on in his pants and open the door.

“ You wait here, don’t touch anythin’. You can sit on the couch or the office chair, whatever you prefer”

He leave the office, looking back at you when closing the door behind him, catching your gaze.

His office is well decorated. Plants sitting almost everywhere. A succulent on his desk and a few on some shelves with books; a monstera in the corner next to a small CD reader with a disk already in, and other plants you can’t name. His office is mostly brown with wood furniture. His desk is near the back of the room in front of tall windows with black curtains giving the room a dim light, a leather chair tall enough to support his broad back. The couch is near the door, it’s small but there’s enough space for two. The book shelves are on the left of his desk, on the other side some closed shelves with the CD reader on it and a box filed with disk in it. There’s a Lamp at the far end that is turned off.

After a few minutes of contemplating the room, the door opens up again with a large figure coming in.

“I brought you a hot chocolate, didn’t know if ya liked coffee so I went the safe way”

Your headache went down a bit, probably from scanning the room around you that is weirdly relaxing and cozy.

“Thanks, my head feels better by the way” you sit down on the couch.

“That’s good news” he says, putting the hot chocolate cup down on his desk. “ So uh, I didn’t wanna make this too embarrassing so I wanted to talk to you about the project we’re currently doing in class.” He leans on his desk, his butt on the edge of it.

“ ‘Noticed you didn’t seem to fit in well with your classmates, but this is a group project and you need’a work with them, or I’ll have to grade you down.”

He takes the cup from his desk, stands up and hands it to you. You reach for it when your fingers accidentally brushes his, making the hair on your arms and neck rise. He stands a few inches in front of you, crossing his arms.

“I know, sorry. It’s just that my friends aren’t in the same classes as me and I kinda struggle to make friends.” You sip from the cup.

He hasn’t moved, his eyes scanning your body before he notices his own movement and looks away.

“Still. You need to be careful, this could be bad for your grades” he goes back to his desk and turns your back to you, reaching for something on his desk and stars fidgeting with it. Rays of sun are peaking out from the curtains, highlighting his figure. A minute goes by, the both of you staying silent until-

“I noticed you looking at me during class, and this almost every time. Are you being distracted by me ?” He turns around.

Your eyes meet his, a hint of panic in yours.

“l uh…haven’t noticed” your heart pounding in your chest. You’re sure he can hear it. You stand up, anxiety making your legs feel numb.

He walks to you, standing close to your face.

“I’m warning you, this is not appropriate, you know that right ? “ his eyes on your lips, almost devouring them.

“Well, what if I am ? “ you look in his eyes, hoping that this is going the way you want it to go. If not, you will just keep dreaming about him in class and in your bed with your hand down I’m your panties

“I wouldn’t wanna risk anything if I were you darlin’” his breath hitting your face. You know he wants to touch, feel your whole body against him.

“We can just…be careful” your eyes almost begging

“Yeah, you’d be my little secret huh ?” his hands grips your waist, making you gasp, the burning sensation between your thighs growing bigger.

His lips suddenly crash onto yours, teeth touching as he brings you closer to him making your hips grind against his. Moans escape his mouth and yours between kisses.

He pushes you to the nearest wall keeping his lips on yours, reaching to lock the door with a swift movement.

“I’ve been waiting for this for so fuckin’ long “ he grabs your shirt and takes it off, while you zip off your skirt and toss it away.

“Fuck Mr. Miller…are you sure you wanna do this ?” You say while trying to catch your breath.

“I’m more than sure Angel, as long as you’re down for it I’ll do anything you want”

At this point your headache is long gone and forgotten and all you think about is him, him him him.

“Also please, call me Joel” he say as he grips your left leg and put it around his waist, making it easier for him to slide his hand down your cunt.

“Fuck you’re so fucking wet…Been’ wanting me the whole time huh ? “ he grins as his fingers rub against your clit, slowly building up your arousal.

“Please, please just fuck me already” your moans becoming louder and your breath going faster as your hands try to unbuckle his belt.

“Jesus you’re so needy, but you need to be quite, or else we’re gonna get caught, you don’t want that huh ?” He ask as he slides two fingers into your cunt, making you gasp.

“Fuck Joel, “ hearing you say his name is making him go feral. He lift you up in his arms, your legs around his waist as he turn around to put you on his desk, tossing some of his stuff to the ground including his poor little succulent plant.

“When’s the last time someone fucked your pretty cunt, huh ?” He takes his belt away, unzip his pants and take his hard growth into his hand, then slowly rubs it against your wetness.

“It’s been way too long, that’s why you need to stop waiting and fuck me already “

He obeys and starts grinding against your cunt, until his length slips into your core , stretching you out

“fuck you’re so tight Angel” he pants as his hips starts trusting into you, going deeper and deeper.

Your hands grips to his desk, desperately searching for hold as your body moves up and down.

“Shit Joel I think im gonna cum already” you say as his trust are getting deeper touching your sensitive spot inside.

“I wanna taste ya’ on my tongue” he comes out of you, leaving you empty, pussy clenching around nothing as he comes down on you. His breath hits the inside of your thighs, hot and fast until his tongue finally touches your swollen clit.

You gasp loudly, the fleshy part of your hand in your mouth to cover the filthy sound of you enjoying the tongue of your teacher on yourself.

“You taste so good baby, I’m gonna need this as a dessert every fuckin’ night”

He pushed two digits inside of you moving slowly to build your high until you finally cum, covering his fingers with your slit as he takes them inside of his mouth and licks it off.

“Fuck” you pant, coming down of your high with your heart racing maybe too fast

You know he probably ruined you for any other man, as short as it was, his cock was surely way bigger than you thought.

He stands up, putting his pants and belt back on.

“wait you didn’t finish, maybe I can help you out” you say, grabbing his tie making him come closer to your face, nose almost touching.

“Maybe for next time, sweetheart.”

Next time ? Oh. My. God. Next time.

“You wanna see me again?”

“Why not ? ‘s long as we keep this secret then I’m fine in fucking your here ‘n there in my office” the side of his lips lifting.

“ I’m down but, I’m not sure I just want to be some kind of doll to you.”

Your love for him is growing, there’s no doubt. But you want more than just sex here and there. You take a pen from a cup on his desk and a note from the note pad to write your number down and put it in the pocket of his buttoned up shirt.

“Well, was scared to ask but yeah, maybe we can go further than just some filthy sex” you look in his eyes, a smile showing on your face.

“What about going out to the restaurant just down the street then maybe I’ll let you suck me off ‘til I cum”he say, smiling back at you, exiting the room.

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[alltheirdamn]

Killing Me Softly | (Joel Miller x teacher!f!reader)

Chap. 1 : Your Name

Series Summary: You've nursed a broken heart for two years. ‘Love’ felt like a foreign term, but maybe it wasn’t so far out of reach. Chap. 1 Summary: When you catch the eye of your students' dad at a school dance, he starts showing up everywhere. Rating: 18+ MDNI (for the future smut) Word Count: 6.8k Warnings: pre-outbreak AU, age gap (joel is 36 reader is 27), no smut (yet), sexual tension, flirting, pining, mentions of alcohol, language, angst, reader's last name is 'Smith' for no other purpose than the fact she is a teacher A/N: This will definitely be a slow-burn fic, so please hang tight!! Tropes include: second chance at love, strangers to lovers, secret relationship, etc. I'm actually so excited about this one, so I hope you guys stick around to see where it goes :')

Masterlist

PROLOGUE

You never thought you’d be the girl sitting at the steps of an abandoned altar with your wedding dress covered in mud from the rain.

 Just minutes before you were supposed to take your first steps down the aisle, your fiancé fled. You watched the blur of his suit in the distance as he ran through the rain and left your family and friends in shock. Motionless at the back of the rows of chairs, you dropped your bouquet and stood in heartbreaking silence as the cords of the violins faded into the air. Your parents and siblings swarmed around you, trying to break the paralysis that kept your eyes locked on the vacant spot under the archway and steps of what would have been the place you said your vows. You still had them in your hand; the words scribbled neatly on a folded paper torn from your journal. You’d never get the chance to say those words aloud; he never would have deserved them, anyway. 

The ring sat heavily on your finger now as you watched it glisten under the pelting rain. Your dress clung to your body in layers of silk and lace, a taunting reminder of who you had become for a man unworthy of your love and devotion. 

Five years together, all stripped away in a matter of minutes. 

You’d never love again. 

“Everyone’s gotta do it,” Maria sighed as she stood at the student drop-off with you.

By ‘it,’ she meant chaperoning the father-daughter dance later in the week, which you seriously wanted no part of. You had been through enough school dances in your three years working at the middle school, and you were tired of watching pre-teens grinding on each other to god-awful music. You had better things to do with your Friday nights, like sitting on the couch with a pint of ice cream and a horror movie playing in the background—you’d sworn off rom-coms long ago.

“Yeah, I know,” you grumbled, waving another line of kids across the road. 

You watched as they trudged across the crosswalk with their backpacks slung over their shoulders, eyes bright and broad at the realization school was over for the day. If only they were that chipper in class, maybe you’d have an easier time teaching them how to write three-point essays. 

Maria chirped goodbye to each one as they passed, her cheeks pinched with a fake smile only you could recognize. You knew she loved the kids but loved the final school bell even more. You, on the other hand, hated it. The end of school was just another reminder that you’d go back to an empty home and an empty life. 

Two years had passed since Bennett ran from your wedding ceremony—two years without closure or an answer. By the time you had pieced yourself together and returned home from the would-have-been ceremony, his things were gone, and the house filled with the ghost of his presence. Your in-laws went radio silent, avoiding all calls and emails from you until they eventually moved out of state and changed numbers. The hours leading up to the ceremony would forever be a mystery as to why he left, and you would spend the rest of your life fighting for an answer as to why you weren’t good enough to love. 

Dragging you from your thoughts, Maria bumped you with her hip, giving you a concerned look. You shook away the memories and returned her stare with a fake smile you had mastered over the last two years. You couldn’t even remember the last time you had genuinely smiled or laughed without feeling the force of a facade washing over you. Concealing the pain of it all made it easier; maybe if you believed you were okay, you’d start feeling okay. But you never did. Not even the countless hours of therapy had helped reconcile the person you once were. Bennett had left and taken every vulnerable part of you with him, leaving nothing but a raw and broken shell in his wake. 

“You’re doing it again,” Maria scolded. 

“Doing what?” You asked, already aware of the answer.

“Wallowing. You really should get back out there again.”

You focused on the next grouping of kids setting out to cross the street, your hand instinctively coming up to hold the passing cars at a standstill. You plastered on a fake smile as they waved goodbye to you, and you glanced back at Maria once they finally stepped foot on the next sidewalk.

“I’m not interested,” you stated. “I’m fine on my own.”

Her eyebrow lifted as if challenging your blasé response. Your answer always remained the same, yet Maria relentlessly attempted to change your mind.

“You’ve got to at least try. What if there’s already someone out there just waiting for you?”

“Maria, I promise no one is waiting for me.”

“I wish you’d just give it a shot. You deserve to be happy.”

You had heard that phrase often over the last couple of years; a pitying tone always accompanied the words. People loved to soothe you with words that held no weight or purpose. You learned to nod along to their sympathies and turn a deaf ear to their suggestions of what you deserved. 

The final round of kids made their way toward the line of parents waiting in their cars, and you followed Maria back to your classrooms to clean up before leaving for the day. Her words stuck with you on the quiet drive home; the radio wasn’t enough to drown out that taunting voice in your head reminding you that you’d never be enough. 

Your single-story house was nestled into an older neighborhood of Austin, only a handful of miles from the middle school. You’d argue that the house was the best thing to come out of the failed engagement; its personality stood firm against the other houses with a vibrant shade of blue painted over its wooden panels and wrap-around porch. You spent the last few months sprucing up the front yard, planting rose bushes and trees to liven up the house. It hadn’t fixed all your problems but pacified them temporarily as you dirtied your hands in the soil. 

It became second nature to shut your garage immediately after putting your car in park. You didn’t want the typical neighborly interactions or shallow conversations. You were content with living between closed doors and drawn curtains. The less of an interaction with the world, the better. 

Dropping your purse and work bag on the kitchen counter, you sunk onto a barstool, staring blankly at the fridge and knowing all too well there was hardly anything inside it. You’d settle for another frozen meal and glass of wine, a typical meal these days to satisfy a hunger you no longer had. Despite the colorful kitchen cabinets, the mustard yellow couch in the living room, and the obscure wallpaper…your life was dull. How could one person suck out all the energy from another human being? How could pain last this long? 

You stabbed a fork into the TV dinner meal before you and wondered if you’d ever feel happy again. 

**

You managed to survive another week of teaching, only to now be standing in the shadows of the school gymnasium, nursing an overly sweet fruit punch. The PTA had done a decent job of turning the space into a somewhat realistic dance floor: string lights hung corner to corner of the ceiling, a DJ booth in the center of the basketball court, and colorful balloons circled the air. You spotted a few of your students dancing with their fathers, their eyes squeezed shut from their too-wide smiles and bubbling laughter. A foreign ache in your chest reminded you how you would have had a father-daughter dance at your wedding. Your father even took it upon himself to brush up on dance lessons to sway you across the floor to some overly emotional song. As corny as it was, you had been looking forward to that moment throughout your engagement. 

“Look who got all dolled up!” Maria hollered as she strolled over, fruit punch in hand.

“I would hardly call this dolled up,” you said, tugging at the hem of your dress.

You only had a handful of dresses in your closet, this particular one being a flowy black cocktail dress with a halter top and ruffled skirt. It was barely passing the school dress code, so you decided to pair it with a low kitten heel to try and deter the admin’s scrutiny. You did, however, spend a little more time than usual on your makeup and hair, hoping if you looked pretty, then maybe you’d feel it, too.

“You’re too hard on yourself,” Maria sighed.

“You look great,” you said, sidestepping her lecture.

Maria had chosen a plum floor-length maxi dress decorated with embroidered blue flowers. Her curly hair was pinned in a bun, and several sparkly barrettes were clipped to the side. Her makeup was no different from usual: a rosy red lip and simple mascara with a hint of blush on her cheeks. 

“Really, Maria. You do.”

“Well, thank you,” she blushed, looking back toward the room full of bodies dancing.

Your eyes followed hers, settling on the duos as they swayed to a slow song. Every father was dressed up in some sort of button-up or the occasional suit except for one—the same one who happened to be twirling around your student, Sarah Miller. You nudged Maria, pointing secretly at them with a questioning glance.

“Is that her dad?” You asked.

He wore a basic cotton T-shirt, jeans, and dirty work boots. There was barely any thought behind his appearance as if he had rolled up to the school right after a long shift at work, forgoing any effort or care. Some part of you hated him for it. The least he could do was get dressed up for a silly school dance, especially when Sarah wore a lavender tulle dress that complimented her olive skin tone. 

“Yup,” Maria elongated the word. “That’s Joel Miller.”

“Sure looks like he doesn’t care to be here,” you grumbled.

Maria barked a laugh, looking at you through narrowed eyes.

“As opposed to you?” She questioned. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but weren’t you bitching about this dance all week long?”

“Well, at least I put some effort into my looks tonight,” you defended.

You glanced back at Sarah, seeing her father twirl her one last time. You caught a glimpse of his face for the first time in the flow of his movements. Messy dark curls framed his head, curling in every which way as if he’d run his hand through them a million times. Even from a distance, you could see the patchy beard and short mustache covering the lower half of his face, alongside the several creases around his eyes as he smiled.  And his eyes… They looked like big brown saucers under the lights, reflecting a genuine softness as he watched his daughter dance. 

And then they snapped up to meet your gaze through the crowd as if you had silently called out to him. Everything slowed around you for a moment as he studied you from afar, his eyes drifting down your body and back up with a hint of a smile teasing his lips. A rush of heat crawled up your neck, and you broke the eye contact between you. Maria cleared her throat beside you, tearing you away from the man holding your sincere interest. 

“What was that?” Maria chirped. 

You shook your head, glancing between her curious face and the dancefloor. Joel had since moved on, steering Sarah toward the refreshment table. He never once looked back at you, which left you unexplainably disappointed. For a moment in time, someone looked at you and saw you. 

“I–I don’t know,” you stuttered. “Probably nothing.”

“It looked like something.”

You turned to face Maria, a scowl twisting up your lips entirely. You were tired of her pushing nonexistent things on you, and that’s what this was— nonexistent. Whatever moment between you and Joel had gone as quickly as it came. You were done with the night and standing among so many cheerful people. You couldn’t stand it any longer. 

“I think I’m going to take off,” you announced, placing your half-drunk fruit punch on the table behind you. 

Maria was defeated, knowing you'd still leave no matter what she said. Stalking out of the gymnasium, you grabbed your purse from the teacher's booth and booked it to your car with your heels in your hands. You carefully walked along the sidewalk toward your car, catching a conversation drifting through the wind between the other vehicles. 

“...Dad, you promised we’d watch movies tomorrow!”

“I know, sweetheart, but Uncle Tommy needs help on the job sight.”

You hid between two cars, listening to their voices bounce back and forth. It wasn’t until you peeked out to see the two figures that you realized it was Sarah and her father, Joel. For fucks sake. You tiptoed around the car's bumper beside you, attempting to make a getaway before either of them saw you. You must have done a terrible job because Sarah called your name as you edged closer to your car.

“Miss Smith!”

“Shit,” you muttered to yourself. 

With your purse in one hand and heels in the other, you turned toward them with your rehearsed fake smile. Sarah was standing beside her dad—Joel—a small smile shining up at you. You knew her usual upbeat personality in class, always laughing and joking with other kids. She was an A+ student, too, and her work showcased her smartness. But in her father's shadow, a distinct sadness clouded her eyes. 

“Hello, Sarah! How did you like the dance?” You asked. 

“It was really fun,” she grinned, forcing her smile wider. You saw through it. 

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

Joel cleared his throat, extending a large hand toward you. You blinked at his open palm, afraid of making that same startling eye contact as you had in the gymnasium. Shuffling your purse into your other hand, you took his into yours, focusing on the warmth of his grip crawling up your skin. His fingers dwarfed your own, tightening around your hand until you were forced to look up finally. 

“S’nice to finally meet you, Mrs. Smith,” he said, his thick Southern accent shining through.

“Miss Smith,” you corrected. It was hard to hide the bitterness in the statement. 

“Miss Smith,” he echoed. “I’m Joel, Sarah’s dad.”

His eyes still hadn’t left yours, their piercing stare making you shiver despite the September humidity. You pulled your hand away, overly aware of how his fingers lingered a moment too long. Shifting your weight from one leg to another, you were starting to feel the asphalt dig into the soles of your feet. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Miller,” you replied.

“Joel,” he insisted.

You nodded politely, giving him another faltering smile. Hauling your purse over your shoulder, you said a soft goodbye to them and bolted to your car. In the confines of the driver's seat, you rested your head against the wheel, inhaling deeply as you steadied the nerves inside your body. Why did such a simple interaction light up your body with emotions you had spent so long suppressing? And why did Joel’s smile haunt you even when your eyes were shut?

Forcing your keys into the ignition, you tore out of the school parking lot and back to the confines of your tiny blue home. 

The weekends were usually filled with nothing more than grading papers and lesson planning. The coffee beside you on the kitchen counter had gone cold hours ago as the morning sunlight faded into the afternoon. Through tired eyes, you glanced up at the oven clock: 2 pm. You needed a break from reading through piles of essays, and your fridge desperately required replenishing. Grabbing your keys off the counter, you forfeited any plans of changing out of your sweat set and headed to the supermarket.

The packed parking lot and crowded store were daunting reminders of why you typically decided to leave your fridge vacant. But as you pushed your shopping cart down each aisle, you had no choice but to comply with your basic human needs and stock up on miscellaneous food you would want throughout the week. Rounding down the next aisle, your eyes caught on a tall figure standing in front of the bakery section, his face scrutinizing every cake in the display case. Shit. 

You tried—and failed—to maneuver your way into the next aisle, somehow crashing into an older woman’s cart, forcing her carton of eggs to fall and smash onto the linoleum floor.

“Dammit,” you hissed, crouching down to try and help them clean up the shattered eggshells.

“S’alright, sweetheart,” she assured. “I’ll just holler for a worker to come clean it up.”

“No, I—I can help,” you stammered, fingers still running over the broken yolks spreading across the floor.

“Miss Smith?” You heard a deep voice above you.

Your head snapped up to see Joel standing above you; his forehead creased with concern. The woman you had crashed into was already down the next aisle looking for a store employee, leaving you alone with a mess you had caused. Joel crouched beside you, his hands folding over yours to slow your frantic cleaning.

“It’s alright, I got it!” You snapped, pulling your hands back.

“Just tryna’ help,” he said. “That’s all.”

“It’s my fault. I can fix it.” 

You had said those words to yourself many times before, and never once did they prove true. 

“Someone will come and clean this up; you ain’t gotta do all that,” Joel said softly. “C’mon.”

He offered a hand, which you took reluctantly, leaving you both standing awkwardly in front of the mess. You shifted your gaze downward, too afraid to meet those deep brown eyes that had plagued you the night before. 

“Hey,” Joel said in a soft tone. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” you mumbled.

“Doesn’t seem like it.”

You huffed a sigh, gripping the handles of your cart to start moving. Today was going downhill rapidly, and you only wanted to go home and hole yourself away…like you always did.

“I, uh, was tryna’ pick out a birthday cake,” he rambled. “S’my birthday tomorrow, and Sarah wants to make sure I have a cake, ya’know? Any ideas on what she might like? I’m not sure if y’all ever have parties at school with sweets and all that.”

Your eyes snapped to his, a scowl forming on your face. Sarah’s dad was asking you what she liked? He was proving to be worse and worse by the second. But you were her teacher and needed to hold your tongue.

“I’m sure she’ll enjoy anything,” you said, a tight smile forming. “Happy birthday, Mr. Miller.”

His eyebrows furrowed together, clearly seeing through the mask you put on. It was infuriating how easily he had wove his way through your bloodstream, even in just twenty-four hours. 

“Joel,” he insisted. “You don’t need to do all that formal stuff.”

“I kind of do,” you laughed. “You’re my students’ father; that’s how I’m supposed to address you.”

“S’all I’m sayin’ is that you’re free to call me Joel. No harm in it.”

There was a lot of harm in it. 

You didn’t know what else to say, so you dipped your head to say goodbye and pushed your cart past him. You weren’t being the kindest nor the most respectful person, but your anger was at a low simmer. Any longer around him, and you might explode. You weren’t used to someone getting under your skin like he was. And the worst part was that he wasn’t even trying. You couldn’t understand why you reacted so strongly. 

“Miss Smith!” Joel called, catching up as you moved down the next aisle.

You inhaled and stopped walking, mustering another fake smile to appease him. He gripped the side of your cart with a large hand, a simple gesture to keep you firmly in place. Clearly, he decided when the conversation was over.

“Yes, Mr. Miller?”

“Did I do somethin’ to upset you? ‘Cause I swear, I didn’t mean anything inappropriate by what I said back there. 

“No, no, you’re fine,” you lied. “Just having a bad day, that's all.” That wasn’t a lie.

Joel ran a hand over his neck, studying you quietly for a moment. Something about the atmosphere around him was intoxicating and so fucking dangerous. 

“Well, I’m sorry ‘bout that. Guess I was just tryna’ make small talk, and clearly, I ain’t doin’ a good job.”

“It’s fine—no need for apologies. I hope the cake and birthday celebration go well. I’m sure Sarah will tell me all about it on Monday.”

His eyes shifted over you again, lingering on your lips, set in a firm smile. You tried your best to hide the shiver that ran up your back as he drank you in. 

“Y’probably think I’m a terrible dad, huh?” He sighed.

“What?” You blinked away the thoughts swarming your head.

“I mean, I know you probably heard us arguin’ last night, and I’m out here asking her teacher what her favorite kind of cake is. You ain’t gotta be polite about it. I know I’m not doin’ the best job,” he confessed.

“Mr. Miller, I don’t think that at all. I just think maybe asking your wife would be more helpful than asking me.”

That garnered a laugh from him, a genuine and sincere laugh.

“Never had a wife to begin with. Sarah’s mom left us when she was only a year old,” he explained. “Been doin’ it all on my own.”

“Oh.” Dammit, you really were a bitch. 

“Trust me, I get it. I could do a better job, bein’ a dad and all that. I’m tryin’.”

“I think you’re doing just fine,” you said. “I’m sorry I didn’t know.”

He brushed it off, replacing the sad look cresting his eyes with a lopsided grin. You wanted to hate it, but your body reacted traitorously. You felt the softness in his gaze crawl over you, slowly replacing the anger coursing through your veins with something else…something you hadn’t felt in a long time. No one had looked at you that way since—well, since Bennett. Even if Joel was only being friendly, you were drawn to the charm he exuded. Dangerous, you reminded yourself.

“Anyway,” he continued. “I won’t hold ya’ up any longer. I hope your day gets better, Miss Smith.”

“Thank you,” you replied. “And Happy birthday, again.”

Joel’s eyes settled on your lips again as you talked, and you felt your cheeks warm under his gaze. His eyes flicked back up to yours, a flash of something behind them, and you were ready to bolt. He muttered a thank you and left you standing in a vacant aisle, your hands still covered in egg yolks and your mind reeling.

It was hard to maintain your good mood once Monday rolled around. Seeing Sarah sitting in class was an unwelcome reminder of your interaction with Joel on Saturday, and you had to refrain from overstepping boundaries and asking about his birthday. She didn’t need to know you cared, even though you struggled not to care. You wondered what kind of cake he decided on, how old he turned if he blushed when she sang Happy Birthday. Every thought burned a hole in your head that you tried to patch up and forget. 

The final bell rang for the day, and the kids began to pack up in a rush. You straightened out the papers lining your desk, avoiding eye contact with Sarah as she slung her backpack over her shoulders and lined up to leave. Grabbing your whistle and bottle of water, you followed them toward the front gates, taking your usual place alongside Maria—who was overly chipper for a Monday.

“Soooo,” she prodded. “How was your weekend?”

“Uneventful,” you lied, walking with her to the crosswalk. 

“You really need to go out and have fun! You’re young, and you need to enjoy your 20s!” She exasperated. 

“Maria, I’m 27,” you groaned. “My 20s are practically over.”

She folded her arms over her chest, leveling you with a heavy glare. Maria was in her late 40’s and clearly exuded a motherly-type attitude. You shifted your focus to the kids crossing the road, watching as they reunited with their parents. 

“We go out on Wednesdays for Happy Hour! Join us this week,” she suggested.

“I don’t know,” you sighed.

“Come on!” Maria pressed. “If you hate it, I’ll never ask you to go out with us again.”

There was no point in arguing with her, so you relented and agreed to one night out. A few drinks and hours of mindless conversation could be good for you. It would be better than sitting in front of the TV with a bland meal and another glass of wine.

You managed to evade all thoughts of Joel somehow the next two days, putting all your time and energy into prepping your students for their first test of the year. Lesson planning and preparation took up your free period and late evenings, leaving you little room to think about those brown eyes and disarming smile. It was Wednesday evening, and you were knee-deep in your closet, trying to find an outfit for Happy Hour. You had changed at least five times, discarding every top and skirt onto your bedroom floor. Eventually, you gave up, settling on tight jeans, a flowy red blouse, and black flats. You left your hair in wavy curls over your shoulders and simple makeup to balance everything out. 

The group took their Happy Hour rituals to a local dive bar on the outskirts of town, a row of motorcycles and trucks lining the entrance. You felt a bit out of place walking into a smoke-hazed bar, with the patron's wandering eyes crawling over you, but you quickly picked out the huddle of teachers in the corner laughing over a round of beers. They welcomed you with bright smiles and hellos, offering to buy your first drink. After about an hour and a few drinks, you felt warm and far more relaxed. Conversations about quarterly goals and admin meetings flowed over the table, each teacher complaining about something. You chimed in when necessary, keeping quiet when you had nothing to contribute. You were on your fourth beer when the girls around you started whispering low about a group of men entering the bar. You stole a peek over your shoulder, eyes settling on the last person you wanted to see. 

Joel Miller.

He had on his usual simple work attire, the fabric of his cotton shirt stretched out over his broad chest. His neck was tanned, most likely from working outdoors, and his hair was just as unruly as you remembered. The man beside him, shorter but with similar features, clapped Joel on the back and steered him towards the bar. You lowered your head, taking a longer gulp of your drink to try and steady your nerves. Of all fucking places, he had to be here. 

“He’s just so handsome, isn’t he?” Maria nudged you, tossing back a look towards Joel.

You shrugged, feigning disinterest. Joel was handsome, but no one needed to know how you felt. Because what you felt was very, very confusing. 

“He’s my students’ father, Maria.”

She rolled her eyes, swirling the contents of her drinks before taking a sip. 

“Okay, and? There’s nothing inappropriate about dating a student’s parent.”

“Yes, there is,” you snapped. “And I’m not even considering dating him.”

“But you think he’s attractive,” she stated.

You didn’t want to respond to that, knowing the warmth in your cheeks was already enough of a giveaway. If you shrunk far enough into yourself, you might go unrecognized the rest of the night.

Maria thankfully dropped the subject, returning to the conversation around the table. After another hour, the ladies started to trickle out of the bar and home for the night. You, on the other hand, still had to wait a bit longer until the alcohol phased out of your body. Which meant you were sitting alone in the same space as Joel. You could feel his eyes on your back the longer you sat there, and to your detriment, decided to steal a glance over your shoulder. Joel’s eyes raked over your body, returning your stare with a soft, welcoming smile. Shit.

You watched as he slipped off the barstool, waltzing towards you with a beer clasped in his large hand. You tried so hard not to notice his thick fingers wrapped around the bottle, and you most definitely tried not to think of what his fingers would feel like inside—

“Miss Smith,” he greeted, silencing your awful thoughts.

“Mr. Miller,” you said.

“Are all these formalities necessary in a bar?” he teased. 

“A couple of drinks won’t change my mind.”

Joel slid into the seat beside you without an invitation, his arm brushing against yours as he settled into the stool. It was instinct to flinch away, afraid of the reaction his touch would cause to your body. 

“What will change your mind?” he pressed, keeping a steady gaze on you.

“Nothing,” you shrugged, deciding to change the subject. “How was your birthday?”

Joel ran a hand through his hair, that stupid lopsided grin forming on his lips. 

“Can’t say I love gettin’ old, but celebratin’ was sure nice.”

“And how old are you, Mr. Miller?”

“Ripe age of thirty-six, Miss Smith,” he grinned. 

“What cake did you choose?” you asked, watching him take a long sip of his beer. 

“Vanilla. Everyone’s gotta love vanilla, right?” 

Was he… flirting with you? 

You’d blame your following response on the beers coursing through your bloodstream, but truthfully, you just wanted to play along, even only for a moment. 

“Hmm, I don’t know. I don’t always love vanilla, Mr. Miller.”

Joel’s eyes darkened, falling to your lips as you took another drink. It was bold and stupid of you to say that, but at this point, you didn’t care. 

“What other flavors do you like?” 

He leaned forward in his chair, his thigh pressing against yours. The heat of his body and the smell of smoke on his clothes was a dangerous combination for your self-restraint.  

“I have a few guilty pleasure flavors,” you smirked.

Joel’s hand damn near crushed the bottle when you said those words, his entire body tensing beside you. You couldn’t care at that moment about how you spoke; the drinks started speaking for themselves. You hadn’t dared to flirt with a man since Bennett left, too afraid of what falling in love again might do to you. But, for some reason, flirting with Joel felt so simple. He was older than you, and maybe that piqued your interest, knowing he was far more mature than anyone else you had considered. 

“Indulge me, Miss Smith,” he whispered. 

“I think I’ll leave it a mystery,” you whispered in return. “I’ve already said too much as it is.”

“I reckon you ain’t said enough,” he countered. 

Heat flared through your neck and face as he leaned in closer, his face only inches from yours. This had gone too far. You had broken any rules you had previously set in place, and now you were dancing on a fragile line between professionalism and indecency. 

Glancing at the clock above the bar, you watched as the hands ticked closer to midnight. Just like in the fairytales, your time was up. Back to reality. 

“It’s getting late,” you started. “I should get home.”

Joel’s demeanor shifted, and his grin faltered as he watched you rise from the barstool. He brushed his hand over your arm, barring you from walking away. 

“Not real sure if you should be drivin’ home yet, Miss Smith. Y’had a few drinks tonight,” Joel protested.

“How do you know? Were you watching me?”

“Gotta make sure my daughter's teacher is safe. Who else’s gonna make sure she gets straight A’s?” 

He was trying to make light of the situation, but you knew better. You knew he had been watching you since he had arrived; his attention had never been on his group of friends. 

“I assure you, I’m fine,” you argued. “You go enjoy your night with your friends, Mr. Miller.”

Joel’s brows furrowed as he considered you. His hand still lingered on your arm, thick fingers flexing against your skin. You glanced between his hand and his eyes, trying to make sense of his intentions. This was far past a coincidental run-in; this was a strange desire out of reach. 

“Can I drive you home at least?” He asked. 

“I’m okay. Thank you, though.”

“Can I at least drive behind you to make sure you make it alright?” He offered.

You looked back toward the bar, seeing the man he walked in with staring at you with an apparent scowl.

“I don’t think that’s fair to your friend,” you said.

Joel peered around you and huffed loudly. 

“That’s my brother, Tommy. S’all good, he’s probably ready to hit the road, too.”

“He doesn’t look too happy.”

“He’s fine,” Joel grumbled.

Tommy noticed you both staring at him and decided to join the mix. He walked up with a grin despite the scowl he had just worn and extended his hand to you.

“I’m Tommy. Joel’s brother.”

“Hi, I’m Sarah’s teacher.” You gave him a quick shake and tried to sidestep to leave.

“Wait!” Joel called out.

“I’m okay, Mr. Miller,” you tossed over your shoulder. “Be safe tonight.”

You made a beeline for the door, hoping to escape him before he reeled you back in. You let yourself float in his atmosphere for too long, testing the waters you knew were off-limits. There was still an alcohol-induced haze lingering in your head, but the sooner you could leave, the better. Tomorrow would come with a headache and a post-drunken clarity to put you back on the right track. You needed to steer clear of Joel before you slipped up and allowed another man inside the walls you built. 

You attempted to retrieve your keys from your purse, only to fumble them out of your hands and onto the dirt ground of the parking lot. 

“Fuck,” you groaned.

As you bent to pick them up, footsteps crunching on the ground grew closer. You already knew who it was.

“Miss Smith,” Joel’s voice sounded pained. 

“I’m fine!” you shouted, whipping your head around to find him nearly toe-to-toe with you. 

The moonlight above you illuminated his brown eyes, which darkened the longer he looked down at you. You shrunk away, letting your body hit the driver's side of your door while Joel stepped closer. 

“Please. You shouldn’t be drivin’ right now. Lettin’ you leave like this wouldn’t be right of me.”

Your only focus was on his lips as he talked. The plushness of his lips enticed you, leaving you imagining how soft they’d feel pressed against yours. Your control was slipping, and the alcohol was pulsing faster in your veins. 

“You’re not going to give up, are you?” You wondered aloud. 

Joel looked at you like he knew the layers of the question. He knew what battle you were fighting inside and saw the fear plastered on your face.

“No,” he whispered softly.

Your eyes bounced between his eyes and his lips, trying to grasp the moment's weight. You needed to be firm and say no; your future self would thank you for it. Gripping your keys, you exhaled and turned towards your car door. 

“Have a good night, Mr. Miller,” you tossed over your shoulder. 

The warmth of his body pressed against your back, the smell of smoke and liquor wrapping around you and enveloping you in a cocoon of temptation. Joel’s hands reached around to grab your keys from your shaking hand, dangling them between you and the car. 

“M’taking you home, Miss Smith. Ain’t gonna argue anymore,” he said as his mouth fell to the shell of your ear. 

“I’m—.”

“Don’t,” he interjected. “Go to my truck.”

He had the exact tone you did when you reprimanded your students, but the deep rasp of his accent made it all the more inviting. You didn’t want to listen to his demands, but you were getting nowhere successfully. Joel sidestepped to free you of the cage he had you in, watching you intently as you sulked to his truck. It wasn’t hard to know which one it was; only a few cars were left, and the truck exuded the same masculinity as the owner. 

“What about my car?” You protested, folding your arms across your body as you leaned against the truck. 

“I’ll give Tommy the keys,” he said. “He’ll drive it behind us.”

You were about to ramble another slew of protests when Joel yanked the passenger side door open and tilted his head toward the interior. 

“Get in.”

His tone left little room for arguing, so you did as he said without another word. Despite the anger radiating off his body, Joel shut the door softly before heading back into the bar. 

You fidgeted with the seatbelt, the press of it against your chest not strong enough to stabilize the rhythm of your heartbeat. You were in his truck, meaning you’d be alone with him for the next several minutes. It was enough to force a roll of nausea through your stomach. Leaning your head against the window, you watched him reemerge from the bar with Tommy in tow. There was a clear expression of annoyance etched on Tommy’s face, all at the cost of your own stubbornness. 

Joel tossed him the keys to your car before rounding the truck's hood and climbing into the driver’s seat. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, so you kept your eyes on the road as it blurred past with each passing mile. 

“Where do you live?” he asked, passing through another vacant green light. 

You rambled off your address, still keeping your gaze steady on the streetlights as they passed by your window. He didn’t attempt to make small talk after that, and the silence settled onto you like a heavy blanket. Your control of consciousness was slipping the longer you sat beside him, but you willed yourself awake. The streets started to become familiar, and you shifted in your seat. Taking a risk, you looked at Joel, finding him white-knuckling the wheel with his jaw clenched. 

“I’m sorry,” you muttered. “I—I don’t go out and drink normally. I should have just stayed home tonight.”

“S’okay,” he said, glancing at you. “Just don’t get why you’re so stubborn about askin’ for help. First at the supermarket and now at the bar. I don’t get it.”

A rush of tears stung your eyes, and you quickly looked away, trying to blink them back before he noticed. Joel’s hand fell onto your thigh, sending a jolt of shock through your body. You wanted to shy away from it, but there was no use in fighting at this point; you were already failing miserably. 

“Hey,” he prodded. “Shit, I’m sorry. Don’t cry, alright?”

You swiped away the tears running from your eyes, schooling your emotions back into a state of numbness. Your little blue house came into view, and you pointed a tired finger toward it to guide him in the right direction. 

“This is me,” you sniffled. 

“Big ol’ house, Miss Smith. Y’live here alone?”

“Yeah,” you exhaled. “Thanks for the ride, Mr. Miller.”

“I really wish you’d stop callin’ me that,” he sighed, parking his car at your home's fence.

“It’s all formalities.”

“Yeah, I know. I just think after tonight, we’re far past all them formalities and shit.”

Your hand lingered on the door handle as you took one last look at him. Joel’s eyes looked over you with a softness you didn’t deserve. You deserve to be happy. Maria’s words rang out in your head the longer you stared at him. ‘Happy’ was a foreign word to you now, out of reach and out of your control.

“Can I just know one thing?” He asked. 

You nodded, your fingers wrapped around the door handle.

“What’s your name?”

Blame the alcohol…blame your vulnerability…but you told him.

#joel miller x reader #joel x female reader #joel x f!reader #joel miller x teacher!f!reader #joel miller fanfic #joel tlou #tlou #tlou fanfiction #joel miller #pre outbreak!joel

[heartstoptrying]

Hot for Teacher

damn🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵

#pedro pascal #joel miller #dbf!joel #joel miller x reader #tlou smut #professormiller #teacher crush #marry me

[hopplessilse]

Fetish masterlist

Teacher!joel x f!reader 18+ explicit minors dni

Summary: Mr. Miller has been your favorite teacher since he taught you last semester. You've always had a crush on him, but this semester things changed, you have his attention, and you feel the energy spurting from both of you. Would only be like an innocent crush on your teacher? Or could it be something else? Could he be yours? Or it could end in a tragedy?

Warnings: Angs, smut, teacher-student, age gab (reader in her early 20's, joel in his late 40's) pet names, sexual fantasies, pov. Joel, Pov. reader, flirtation, slow burn (not so slow), they are both two consenting adults, Overthinking 24/7, abuse of power, abuse of trust, Being discovered, unrequited love, fear of being found out. Each chapter would have their own warnings.

The exact number of chapters is still unfinished.

I. Hello Mr. Miller

II. Eyes don't lie (new)

III. Private Lessons

IV. The Cabin

V. It's our secret

VI. Lies have names

VII. Tightrope

#joel miller fic #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal characters #joel miller fanfiction #smut #joel tlou #x reader #joel x f!reader #joel x female reader #joel x you #joel x reader #teacher! joel #teacher crush #teacher attachment #teacher x student #hot teacher

[joelmillers-whore]

Hard Light | Chapter Two

chapter one | ao3 | masterlist

series summary: when a new english professor begins teaching your class for the duration of your semester, you can’t help but develop an innocent crush on him. he’s as off-limits as he can be but it doesn’t deter you in the slightest. after a drunk night, you accidentally email him something that wasn’t intended to ever be seen by anyone. but that doesn’t matter. it triggers a misunderstanding that manifests into an affair with your professor who is twenty years your senior. nothing good could come of this, right? 

chapter summary: becoming obsessed with your english professor and imagining what fucking him would be like was never part of the plan. you seem to think about him whenever least convenient and read more into innocent words and touches than you should. but, your infatuation with him comes screeching to a halt when you discover something about him. crush done and over with, right?

pairings: professor!joel x college student!reader

word count: 2.7K

series or one-shot

chapter warnings: 18+ explicit, minors DNI, no mention of Y/N, alternate universe, professor/student relationship, eventual smut, self-esteem issues, workaholic, joel x female!reader, infatuation bordering on obsession (stay delulu friends), some sexual thoughts, masturbation (f), sexualization of the male form, allusions to sexual and explicit scenarios, drinking and glorification of getting drunk

A/N: okay, listen, i won't beat around the bush, i kinda let this series die after like one chapter. my brain works in mysterious ways, as in, i lose interest in stuff quickly, and that includes writing certain fics. that's why i have so many unfinished wips. but, here we go with another chapter of hard light. i re-read this chapter and was suddenly inspired to write for it again. enjoy and don't forget to comment, reblog, and like.

You’d been stuck at the coffee shop for the majority of the day, constantly checking your phone to see if Jeremy had answered you yet. But it didn’t look like he was going to be able to cover your shift. Where the fuck was he? You normally had no problem with covering a Saturday shift but you really needed to leave early, the application for the internship was due soon and you hadn’t started it yet. You flinched, feeling the burn of scolding oat milk drip onto your hand. You shook your hand out, trying to ignore the pulsating emanating from the skin. 

You’d been burned before and worse, but you just wanted to get through this shift. You tipped the ceramic cup and poured the frothed milk into it, moving your wrist in tandem with tipping the cup, trying to quickly do the design that had become second nature to you at this point. Your mouth flattened into a tight line, almost smiling at the student as you handed them their coffee beverage. You were always glad that the coffee shop on campus had only a few options to choose from when it came to coffee orders. And they were all pretty easy to memorize and make. 

Heaven forbid you worked at a Starbucks, where you had to nail down complicated drink combinations and fulfill nauseating orders. Coffee was a sacred thing, at least to you, and it was the perfect concoction of bitter and sweet that had you hooked each time you drank it. People needed way too much sugar to actually enjoy a caffeinated beverage, and there was nothing wrong with that, but it wasn’t something you personally liked. 

You looked up from putting the oat milk back in the fridge when you heard the chime on the door, ready to greet the person who had just entered with a welcoming smile, but that smile flattered when you saw who had just walked in. Your new English professor, the one with the tight ass. You shook your head. Okay, from here on out you were not allowed to think of him that way. He made his way to where you were, an easy pace to his walk. You swallowed as your eyes raked over him. He was wearing brownish-green slacks that seemed to fit him snuggly in places that you couldn’t look away from, and a stylish brown tweed jacket, which stretched across his forearms and chest tightly. 

He gifted you with a smile, his lips perfectly rounded and pink even though they hid underneath a subtle stubble. You opened your mouth to speak but apparently, you had no knowledge of the English language at this current point in time. 

“Could I get a latte?”, Professor Miller asked. 

You had heard him speak in front of nearly a hundred people earlier this week and yet, you were taken completely off guard by the throaty yet softspoken quality of his voice. How soothing and intimate it was when it touched your ears. It made you shiver, imagining how it would sound in the harshness of night when he was on top of you, thrusting slowly, and giving you words of encouragement while you took his thick—

“Yes”, you squawked, stepping back from the counter and burying your head in the coffee machine as you prepared his latte, trying not to let it show how heated your cheeks probably were. 

You heard a low chuckle from him as he paid, turning on his heels and standing in front of you, the bar of the counter the only thing acting as a barrier between the two of you. 

“You’re from my English Lit class, right?”, he asked, his Southern drawl sweeping over your whole body, making your stomach flutter. 

You looked up briefly, not ready to meet his eyes for fear that he could read your thoughts if you let him. You nodded, ducking back down and concentrating. 

“Thought so”. His voice was filled with amusement and something else as you felt the weight of his stare. 

You placed his finished latte on the counter, stuffing your hands into your back pockets as you waited for him to grab it. He took hold of the cup and the saucer but he didn’t move, plastered in place as you locked eyes with him. His pupils were double their original size as he scanned your features, seemingly staring into your soul. You wanted to look away but you couldn’t find the strength. 

His mouth tipped up at the edges, “Since I can get an unbiased opinion from one of my students...”, he paused, thinking about his next words thoughtfully, “How did you find my first day? Been meaning to ask one of you...”. 

You cleared your throat, “I think you did well. If my opinion matters at all”. 

Professor Miller snickered under his breath, nodding, “It does. Thank you for your honesty”, he twisted around but spoke over his shoulder, “I think you’ll find that I have a lot that I can teach you, and I look forward to the rest of the semester”. 

And with that, Joel continued to a table near the back corner of the coffee shop, setting his beverage on the surface and taking out his phone. He didn’t look up at you for the duration of his time, sipping his coffee, head buried in his phone for about an hour before leaving. He gave you a small wave as he left, which made your cheeks flame. 

You really needed to get a grip on yourself and not read more into his words. But you couldn’t seem to concentrate on anything else. I think you’ll find that I have a lot that I can teach you... He meant it in terms of the course, not whatever your idle mind told you it was really about. But you couldn’t help but dig into the double meaning behind those words. You were sure he could teach you a thing or two, he definitely looked like someone who had more experience when it came to sexual things. God, what was wrong with you? Joel— Professor Miller was a nice man, someone you could surely rely on when it came to your studies, you shouldn't be thinking of him that way. 

You were just tired and in need of some sleep. Yeah, that’s why you were letting images best left in the dark corners of your mind float to the forefront. Occupying yourself for the rest of your shift, eventually, Joel and that whole interaction became a distant memory, leaving your mind as fast as it had manifested. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

You settled into a lacklustre routine as the week came and went in a flash. You hadn’t had another one-on-one conversation with Professor Miller, much to your relief. You’d been using your job at the coffee shop, studying and catching up on homework, or even spending time out with friends, as a diversion when your mind began to wander back to that man that made your head spin and your every nerve ending light ablaze when his eyes settled on you in class. 

It wasn’t just a one-off coincidence when you felt it the first time, it wasn’t even a coincidence the second time that you’d felt it either. It was becoming something permanently stuck in your head; when you would see him again, and you made a bet with yourself before every class. Would you get that same flutter in your stomach when you saw him standing before the class, back turned to you and that backside calling out to you? And every time, you would win or lose, depending on your outlook that day. You had a monster crush on your English professor and it was becoming a hindrance. 

Each day you’d wonder what he would think of your outfit, because yeah, now you were actually having to think about your appearance, you actually cared. You wanted him to care, to notice, for his heady gaze to bore into you for a little longer than any of the other girls in your class that he looked at. It was maddening, having him on your mind when you were awake and when you were asleep. You’d conjure the dirtiest images of him and you when you were alone at night, not caring in the slightest as you slid a hand into the waistband of your panties, driven to the edge of insanity if you didn’t ease the overwhelming flutters that never seemed to quit. 

You told yourself that what you were doing was innocent, that because Joel was in your proximity, it was only a natural progression that you’d develop something of a crush on him. But what you didn’t account for was how badly you wanted to act on it. How sometimes when you hung around after class, trying to work up the nerve to talk to him, you’d half-expect him to throw you onto his desk and pound into you, roughly, eagerly, your name slipping past his lips as he worshiped your tight cunt. But, he never did. And the more you thought about how much you wanted it, the more it became unrealistic. 

He was your teacher, for fuck’s sake, and you were his student. Nothing would happen and nothing could happen. But at night, when the stillness of the darkness crept in and you were having trouble falling asleep, your mind still strayed to the man old enough to be your father and you’d cum to the thought of him, over and over again, until your sated body and mind lulled to sleep. And then, when your alarm shrieked in the morning and you had to peel yourself from your bed and get ready for the morning, you’d be overcome with shame. Shame and regret. Because you were getting yourself off to the image of a man who probably wanted nothing to do with you, and you felt like a creep. 

You’d go about your day as normally as you could until you saw Joel in class again, and something as innocent as making contact with his hand as he gave you a quiz would ignite those flutters again, making them unquenchable. 

You were currently out with a few friends from your English class, and Jeremy had decided to tag along. The guy was a social butterfly and could fit in with any group easily. It was actually getting on your nerves, how your friends were currently swooning and chatting to him while you just sat there, waiting for them to loop you into the conversation. Jeremy caught your eyes over the shoulder of your friend, Cat, who was shamelessly flirting with him. Not that you minded, it was great that he was looking for someone. You had thought that you’d broken him when you broke up but it must have been all in your head. 

“Let’s dance”, Jeremy said to Cat, taking her hand in his, making her giggle as she stood up from her seat, and letting him guide them to the dance floor. 

You watched as his hands moved down her body, settling on her hips, and swaying them both in time with the slow song that was playing from the jukebox in the corner. Feelings you’d thought you had buried long ago came swelling to the surface, which had nothing to do with Jeremy moving on right before your eyes and everything to do with how lonely you felt. It hadn’t really hit you until this moment, watching two people who you considered friends, getting closer. 

You had a stupid habit of putting your needs on the back burner and suffering because of it. But growing up in a household that would rather see you be quiet than entertain any of your ideas or thoughts or feelings had done a number on you. Instead of seeking out what you wanted, you always held back, afraid of upsetting someone and losing their respect. It was the dumbest hang up but you couldn’t shake it. Even when you were in your twenties, it lingered. The feeling of not being good enough, for anyone. 

You turned around in your seat, giving Jeremy and Cat some privacy, the call of alcohol in whatever form suddenly calling out to you like a siren song. 

“Shots?”, you asked the remainder of your friends, which elicited a resounding and enthusiastic response. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The time was crawling into the early hours and yet you still knocked back shot after shot, not caring much that the bar manager was growing annoyed at you and your still rowdy group of friends, probably seconds away from kicking you all out. Jeremy had brought Cat home hours ago but the rest of you decided that the night was still young, and so were you. 

You’d been dancing for the majority of the night, switching dancing partners as much as you’d switched between different liquors, but you were alone now, moving your hips from side to side as you nursed a drink of some kind, not really knowing what was in it. Your friend, Ayesha came over to you, stumbling and almost knocking into you. 

“Look what I just found”, she slurred, holding her phone near your face. 

You squinted, trying to get the dizziness to subside long enough for you to focus on the image she had pulled up. But it was difficult, you were really drunk. 

“What’s is it?”, you asked, hiccuping loudly. You covered your mouth with your hand. 

“It’s him”, she screeched, jumping up and down, “Professor Miller, I found his Tinder. God, he looks yummy”. 

Your heart sank to the dark and twisted pit in your stomach and you felt like retching right then and there. But, it was inevitable, for the spell to break, it was only a matter of time. Fuck. You rubbed at your eyes, hoping that this was all a dream. Just a really demented trick that your mind was playing on you. But when you removed your hands from your face and everything around you came back into view, you knew it was reality. Because of course a man like Joel Miller, the rugged yet charming English professor from Austin, Texas would have a dating profile. He was surely dating people and having sex. Lots and lots of sex with women his own age, not with his students. 

You took a step back from your friend and uttered something about feeling sick and wanting to go home. They offered to Uber back to your apartment with you but you made up some excuse about it being dirty, so you didn’t want them to see it like that. A short Uber ride and you were sinking down against your front door, running your hands through your hair, and smacking your head back in frustration. You were an idiot, and right now, you were a drunk idiot. 

Getting up from the floor, you fished around in your purse for your phone and settled into bed, not bothering to change or take your make-up off. It was way out of the realm of what you could muster from yourself right now, and honestly, it was a whole task in and of itself. You mindlessly scrolled through various apps on your phone, trying to occupy your mind, anything to not think about the shocking and devastating revelation you’d had tonight. 

You paused when you hit your email inbox, seeing a new email from Professor Miller. You sat up in bed, fumbling with your hair like he could see you through the phone. You clicked into the email, your eyes struggling to focus on the small text. You skimmed it, something about a missing attachment from the previous email you had sent him. You groaned, feeling like your world was spinning on its axis. Maybe it was from the alcohol or maybe it was because of the damning truth that you never had a shot with Joel, to begin with. 

You thumbed the tiny icon to attach the missing document to the email, replied back to him, and threw your phone away from you. Maybe you’d feel better about things in the morning, but you strongly doubted it. Nothing could cure how heartbroken you were and nothing could help you through it. Wallowing would have to do but for tonight, all you wanted was sleep.

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[tightjeansjavi]

The Rite of Movement | drabble

“Teacher Tommy”

written deliciously by @tightjeansjavi & @itsokbbygrl 💗🤭 LJ lost her smut v-card last night, and it calls for a celebration!

~word count: 7.0k~ (we…yeah 🥵)

Summary: Tommy teaches you how to properly eat pussy

Pairing | pornstar!tommy miller x f!readers (two unnamed female characters written in 3rd POV)

Warnings: NSFW, smut, amateur porn film, one mention of degrading language (purity culture) soft!dom Tommy, threesome, mff/wlw, oral (f receiving), pussy worship, unprotected piv, bush love, consent, sex positive environment, brief mention of Tommy’s sexuality (and a sprinkle of Joel’s) dirty talk, teasing, one mention of hair (unspecified length/no details) no other physical description of the readers, unspecified age gap (legal) +18 minors dni! (Let me know if I missed anything!)

series masterlist

Unlike his brother Joel, who meticulously crafts his films and is stubborn as an ox, Tommy’s signature filming style revolves around spontaneity—spur of the moment changes to scripts and impromptu dialogue, creating a care-free and very, very fun set environment where his actors feel empowered to follow their instincts. Tommy isn’t too keen on having the perfect mood lighting or props to add to the ambiance. He likes amateur-style, low quality camera shots and iPhone POV’s from his partners. While Joel is truly making adult-film art, Tommy unabashedly loves making porn.

And Tommy’s girls are first and foremost, sexy. That’s not at all to do with their looks, although if you asked him, they’re all 10 out of 10 knockouts in their unique ways. No, to Tommy it’s all about confidence. A woman who knows what she wants and goes for it, no care for the names society might call her. Slut. Whore. Harlot. Jezebel. There is nothing in the world sexier than a sexually liberated woman, and Tommy has made it his literal job to show the world that.

Tommy checks the time on his phone’s lock screen and heads over to the studio. He’s scheduled to supervise and direct a scene between a couple of their female actresses. A younger looking couple, it’ll be listed as a first-time experience–horny best friends who are experimenting with each other for the first time, hopefully catching the budding chemistry between two women who already love each other one way turning into a simmering heat that leads to sexy fun. Tommy recalls some of his early days experimenting himself, that feeling of excitement at trying something new, learning how to make another person’s body sing like he knows his own, and he knows exactly how he’s going to help them bring that energy to set.

One of Tommy’s actresses is fairly experienced in the art of women loving women porn, but the second is a greenie and it’s evident that she’s feeling nervous and self conscious even before the filming begins.

“Hey, Tommy? Maybe instead of you just filming, you show her how to eat pussy? Make it a teaching moment?” His experienced partner suggests as she takes a sip from her water bottle.

Tommy mulls over the idea for a moment. He wasn’t planning on being in the scene today, but if the day called for it, he could jump in; expecting it from time to time with his line of work where he had to be ready for just about anything. “Think you’re onto somethin’ there.” He grins.

He makes his way over to his second partner who is sitting off to the side, aimlessly scrolling on her phone. Tommy notices her slightly trembling fingers and tense shoulders, clearly anxious. Well, that just won’t do.

“Hey doll, y’got a minute?” He asks softly.

She tenses for a second before looking up at him with a practiced pleasant smile. Fuck.

“Yeah, of course! What’s up?” she starts. When Tommy doesn’t speak right away, she sighs and continues, looking back at the phone limply held in her hands, “Look, I understand if you think that I’m maybe not the right fit for this scene. I’ve never—”

He interjects with a reassuring smile. “Hey, none of that, alright? I’m not kickin’ ya offset if that’s what you’re thinking.” He winks to ease her nerves. “Was actually gonna suggest that we make a change, put me in the scene with ya. Y’know, showin’ you the ropes on how to properly eat pussy. How’s that sound, doll?”

She looks at him as if he has suddenly sprouted five heads and her lips part in shock. “Wait, you want to like..teach me? Holy—I mean, I’m good with it if you both are?”

“Course, doll. I’ll teach ya, and then by the end of it, you’ll be a pussy eatin’ pro!” He laughs. “It was actually her idea to have me teach you. We both know you’re a greenie, and we want you to be comfortable, okay?”

“Well, thank you. I appreciate it. I honestly was dreading coming in for this today when you told me what the premise of the scene would be.” She visibly relaxes and then barks a laugh after a second, hand flying up to cover her mouth. Amused, Tommy prompts her to share her thoughts. “What if we titled it “Teacher Tommy?” she suggests with a small grin.

“Well, if that’s the case,” he leaned in close, “class is in session.”

With everyone on the same page, Tommy double checks to make sure everything is ready to begin filming. He sets the lower quality digital camcorder he thrifted from a local camera shop up on the small table stationed next to the middle of the bed and turns on the attached light, bathing the three of them in a soft white glow that barely extends to the other side of the bed. Low quality resolution is a favorite stylistic choice of Tommy’s, loving the way it adds to the feeling of realism and spontaneity in his films, as if none of this was planned–they just pulled out the camera in the heat of the moment, wanting to cement the memory in history.

He moves to the far corner of the room where he has his phone sitting on an armchair next to a small speaker. He picks it up and opens his Spotify app, turning towards his partners.

“Hey girls, what sounds good? What’s the vibe?”

“Can I see your phone?” his scene partner asks.

“Yeah, baby, of course. Here you go,” he hands her the unlocked phone. She types for a minute and scrolls, finding what she was looking for and hands the phone back to Tommy. He gives the playlist a quick preview. “This will work,” he smirks.

He puts the phone back in its previous place and turns on the speaker, making sure it’s correctly linked to the input of the separate audio recording device so he can mute this particular track while editing the video, and presses play. He learned the hard way that not all background music is equal after they received a cease and desist letter from Universal Music Group for copyright infringement on one of their first videos produced at Miller-Co. Joel was less than pleased about that one, giving Tommy a tongue lashing about professionalism and an angry, “This is why we plan ahead, Tommy!” Since then he’s learned how to create a vibe in the studio conducive to generating the right feelings and reactions in his scene partners while simultaneously protecting their company’s assets. Tommy Miller is nothing if not a practiced multitasker.

“Everyone still ready to go?” Tommy checks in one final time, making sure he has enthusiastic “yeses” from his partners before he starts the camcorder and sits on the bed, starting the scene.

Tommy sits on the bed, the girls following the loose script they’d prepared. They giggle, one of them reaching over and grabbing the hem of Tommy’s cotton t-shirt, looking into his eyes and waiting for his nod before tugging it up over his head, Tommy raising his arms to assist with its removal. The light catches the peaks and valleys of his obliques as he moves. He leans forward, smiling, and reaches out a hand to cup her face and pull her into him for a heated kiss. He makes sure to angle her face with the hand on her jaw so the camera catches the way their tongues dance together while he uses his other hand to move to the waist of her denim shorts.

“Let’s take these off, sugar. Get you a little more comfy,” he drawls, looking her down and back up, meeting her eyes, then dipping to her spit slick, plush lips. She nods, utters a soft yeah, please in response. His fingers trace along the edge of the waistband until they get to the button, pushing it with his thumb through the hole, using his remaining fingers to pull the tab forward, and then pulls the zip down slowly, letting the tension build.

With the extra space, Tommy reaches inside her shorts, cupping his hand over her clothed sex and pressing up with his palm, giving her some friction. She lets out a soft whine. He smiles, atta girl. She pushes the shorts down her thighs and kicks them off with her feet. Now partially exposed, he spreads her thighs, making sure the camera can see his ministrations as he strokes his fingers over her panties, teasing. Her mouth drops open and head drops down, chin to chest, watching where he touches.

“Feels nice, doesn’t it, baby?” He asks and she nods in response. He tips her chin back up with his unoccupied forefinger and leaves another kiss on her mouth before he turns to their other partner, never stopping the teasing ministrations of his occupied hand.

“C’mere, doll. Lemme see you.” He removes his hand from his first partner’s mound, wet patch visible through her cotton panties where he’s pressed them into her cunt, splitting her lips, showing off the shape of her even through the material, and moves it to the collar of his second partner’s blouse. He attaches his lips to the underside of her jaw and nips, soothing the bite with his lips and tongue while his fingers deftly unbutton her shirt, pushing it gently from her shoulders, bare breasts exposed to the cool air of the room around her. She lets it slip off her arms and tangles her fingers in his thick, dark curls, anchoring him to her. He kisses from the spot along her jawline until he meets her mouth and she’s hungry for it, eating at his mouth with her own. He groans at her forwardness, this is his favorite part, he thinks.

Eventually he pulls back, taking a moment to admire her newly exposed skin. He leans forward, taking nearly the whole of one breast into his big hand, and brings it to his mouth, humming as he suckles at her, lathes his tongue over her peaked nipple. She throws her head back and moans. He allows himself one final deep suck before he pulls off with an audible, “pop.” He kisses up her chest, runs the tip of his tongue over the front of her neck, up and over her chin, over her parted lips, and leaves a gentle kiss on the tip of her nose. The contrast makes her laugh, and the sound sets him and their other partner off in tandem, the sound tinkling through the room, and easing them into the next moment.

He turns and finds their other partner has removed her top while they were occupied, now only clothed in her damp panties and little socks. He shucks his pants and briefs, and the girls share a heated look before moving together. Tommy makes room, allowing them to explore each other for a moment while he reaches down and palms his half hard cock. They finish undressing each other as they kiss, hands roaming over torsos, before the first girl lets one hand drift lower, reaching the wet center of her partner, and she slides her middle finger through the glistening slick, gathering some before bringing it to her mouth, making eye contact and sucking it deep into her mouth, groaning at the tangy flavor that bursts on her tongue.

“Yum,” she says playfully, and they giggle. Tommy joins in, smiling, loving watching them have fun. This is what this is all about, he thinks, cock now fully hard in his grip, thumb gently stroking over his head, smearing the precum there, creating a sticky mess.

He rejoins them. “She taste nice, sweetheart?” He asks, tracing his fingers down her chest, her stomach, watching the muscles in her abdomen twitch and clench at the sensation. He looks up and sees her nodding. He grins back, fingers lightly playing with the soft curls at the top of her sex. “Should we compare?” He presses his fingers down, sliding between her lips, a quiet, “Shit,” leaving his mouth unbidden at the sensation of feeling her once dampness now fully blossomed into wet. He drags two fingers insistently through her, running from her hole to just below her clit and back, building her pleasure slowly. He pulls his fingers back, spreads them, lets the sticky mess of her stretch into clear strings between them, and he whistles lowly at the sight. “Ain’t that pretty,” he says, and then he brings them up to her mouth, resting lightly on her lower lip. “Open up, sugar, give yourself a taste.” She obeys, sucking his fingers into her mouth, winding her tongue around and between them, closing her eyes as she suckles, cleaning him fully before releasing them with a pop. “So, what’s the verdict?”

“Hmm,” she thinks on it playfully, tapping her fingers to her chin in mock deep thought. “I think I taste pretty good. Want a taste?” She asks, turning between both of her bed partners searching for a response.

Tommy, as pre-planned, turns and finds the greener of the two women fidgeting with her fingers in her lap. He chimes in, directing his response at her instead, “I’m up to share if you are?”

She raises her head and meets his eyes, her gaze full of trepidation and excitement in equal measure. Good actress, Tommy thinks. She speaks then, softly replying, “I’ve…um, I’ve never..” and gestures to their partners exposed, glistening cunt.

“You’ve never eaten pussy before, baby?” He asks her gently and she shakes her head, dropping eye contact. He reaches up, pushes his fingers through her hair as a comforting point of contact, strokes over the shell of her ear with his thumb, before resting his palm on the side of her neck. “That’s just fine, sweetheart. You wanna learn?” She perks up at the line, eyes alight with the possibility. She nods shyly and Tommy gives her a real smile then, easing her into the meat of the scene. “Well, just call me, “Teacher,” then, I suppose,” and he chuckles.

Here we go, he thinks. He turns back to his other partner, leaning in and giving her another soft kiss on her mouth, then another, and another, leaning her back onto the bed as he goes. “Now you, just lay here and look pretty. We’re gonna take real good care of you, sugar.” Once she’s laid fully on her back, he sits back on his haunches and reaches forward, grabbing under her thighs and hauling her forward by the hips, pressing her thighs back and exposing the center of her fully to their gazes. “Gorgeous little cunt,” he says, and turns to his new pupil. “Come take a look, babygirl. You ever seen a pussy so pretty?”

She scoots over, planting herself right next to Tommy, leaning into his side and looking at where her partner is on display for her. She speaks up then, “So pretty, wow, she’s so wet.” He isn’t sure she’s even fully aware of what she’s doing or if she’s just as pussy drunk as he’s starting to feel, but she reaches forward then, lets her fingers touch featherlight, exploring the feel of another woman for the first time.

“There you go, baby, give it a feel,” Tommy encourages, and she’s a good student, fingers moving more surely then, scritching lightly through her partner’s soft curls, making her stomach jump, and she smiles at the reaction she created. Growing bolder, she dips a finger lower, gasping softly at what she finds waiting for her.

“Oh my god,” their partner moans.

“Doing so good, sweetheart, keep going,” Tommy says, kissing her shoulder, nipping at it lightly, letting his hand explore her back, fingers trailing over the knobs of her spine, dipping ever so slightly into pock marks scattered here and there, tapping at the constellation of beauty marks and moles he finds. When he comes back around to face the scene in front of him, he’s pleasantly surprised to find her fully exploring now.

“Mmm, that nice, sugar? She makin’ you feel good?” Tommy prompts their receiving partner and she nods surely.

“Yeah, she’s so, mmm god, a natural. You’re sure you’ve never done this before?” she asks.

Pausing her ministrations briefly to chuckle, she looks up from where her gaze was trained on the slick slit where her fingers have been playing, “Nope, first pussy I’ve ever been in. It’s fun, I like it. Think I want a taste,” she responds, turning to look at Tommy.

“Yeah, babygirl? Alright, come here,” Tommy pats the space next to him and lays on his stomach, gesturing for her to do the same. She lays down next to him, kicking her feet up behind her and crossing them at the ankles. Cute, he thinks.

“Sugar, can you do us a favor?” He drags his hands up the backs of her thighs and pushes them towards her chest by the bend of her knees. “Can you hold these for us, please? Gonna be a little busy, need both of my hands,” he explains and winks at her. She groans softly in anticipation at his statement and complies, grabbing behind her own knees and maintaining a hold there, opening herself up to be further devoured.

“Ok, baby, now first thing’s first, every pussy’s a little different, every woman is going to like something a little different, too. But there’s two things for certain–” he leans in and presses his hands to the crease where her thighs meet her cunt, runs his thumbs reverently over her outer lips and spreads her open, “don’t overlook the power of gentleness, and always remember to love the clit.” He punctuates the end of his sentence by using the tip of his nose to rub a tight circle into her nub, inhaling deeply as he goes.

“Holy fucking shit,” she responds, squeezing her thighs tighter in her grip.

The woman next to him squirms, and he wonders if she’s feeling it, too, the phantom drag across her most sensitive spots.

He pulls his face back to move the scene forward, delivering a line they planned earlier. "Hey, sugar, you got your phone with you?” She lifts her head from where it was resting on the bed to nod at him. “Let's get this on video so babygirl here can watch it back later, give her a little coaching if she needs it,” he turns next to him, plants a kiss on his partner’s shoulder, “Or if she’s as much of a natural as I think she’ll be, you’ll both have a nice little souvenir for the wank bank," he ends crudely, almost jokingly, shrugging and chuckling.

She lets go of one of her legs and reaches over, finds her phone where it was resting in the sheets, unlocking it and turning on the camera, the flash illuminating their faces between her thighs, slick from her cunt making Tommy’s nose glisten. She whines at the sight.

“There we go. We makin’ a pretty picture for you, sugar?” Tommy teases.

“Oh, fuck yeah, this is for sure the hottest thing I’ve ever done,” she replies in earnest.

Tommy preens. He uses one arm to push the leg she dropped to pick up the phone back into position. “Alright sugar darlin’, need you to use both hands, hold that camera steady for us,” he instructs. “Now, baby, grab her other leg, yep just like that, push it back, give yourself some room to work. Perfect little student for me, aren’t you?” Access to their pussy re-granted, Tommy gets back to work, missing the way her eyes glaze over at the praise.

“Next lesson–multitasking. Now, when you’re getting fucked real good, right, you’ve got a nice cock inside you, stroking nice and deep, hitting those nice spots and that’s fine, but the ones who know what they’re doing, they do a little extra, don’t they baby?” He looks at his partner next to him, gently stroking the pussy in front of him with his thumb, making sure she stays nice and stimulated while he teaches. He receives an animated nod in return and continues, “that’s right. If they’re worth their salt in bed, they’re hitting all the good spots, inside and out. This is no different, baby. We’re going to start outside first. Watch me, then you take a turn, ok?” He doesn’t wait for her response before he dives in.

Tommy turns his head ever so slightly to the side, making sure the camcorder can see his tongue when he eventually moves it through her. He uses the hand not holding back her thigh to spread the lips of her cunt open further for him with his forefinger and thumb. He leans down all the way, leaving a kiss to the whole of her, before his tongue flicks out and licks a wide stripe from just above her hole to her pulsing clitoris, tongue contracting and flicking firmer as it passes over the sensitive nub. He earns a moan from her in response and repeats the motion again and again, lapping at her cunt like a cat getting the sweetest cream. He moans at the tangy taste of her, of pussy, the flavor incomparable to anything else he’s ever tasted and he loves this, the carnal delight of sex. He gives a final lap and kisses her clit as a parting gift before passing the reins to his partner.

“Alright, sweetheart, you ready for a turn?” She nods eagerly, pupils blown wide, mouth lush and swollen with arousal. Tommy moves over a little, giving her room to get situated. He removes her hand from the other woman’s thigh, giving her the comfort of having both hands to work with for her first time. Their partner lets her leg fall from where it was being held and instead opens up at her hip, resting it in a frog-like position with her knee on the bed, letting her calf and foot rest on the other woman’s upper back. Good girl, thank you, he thinks, making quick eye contact with her and in silent communication.

Hesitantly, she leans down, doing just what Tommy showed her, spreading pussy lips open with her thumbs and licking gently, first along the plush softness of her inner lips, just tasting, feeling it out. The whine her exploration earns must spur her on, because she dives in with abandon then, gathering her viscous wetness direct from the source and bringing it with her before lathing her tongue over her clit again and again, lapping and swirling, moaning into it, both women losing themselves in the pleasure of the moment, unworried about the sounds emanating from their throats.

“There you go, baby, doing such a good job. Such a quick learner. You like that? You like eating pussy?” His mouth is filthy, egging her on, watching as she whines into it and nods her head. He laughs at that, “Alright, now, come up for air, got more to teach ya.” She pulls away, taking a few labored breaths, mouth shiny, corners turned up into a pleased grin, and he can’t help but to pull her in, share a deep, slick kiss, get his second helping from her tongue.

Tommy resumes his earlier position between their partner’s thighs, giving the one in his grasp a sweet kiss. He turns back to his student and continues his instruction. "Now, if you really wanna make her sing, you gotta multitask, get your fingers in her while your tongue works on the outside. Watch, here,” he looks down at the messy, open cunt in front of him and slides his index finger inside gently, letting a guttural groan leave his throat at the feel of her. She’s hot, soaking wet, and tight. This is going to be so much fun, he thinks to himself. He gives her a few slow pumps, watching her like a hawk, making sure she’s feeling good and relaxed before he pulls his finger out, offering it to his bed neighbor and she opens immediately, welcoming it into her mouth and sucks the now familiar milky slickness clean.

“Mmm, good girl, baby, thanks for cleaning me up. Sugar, you ok to take another?” He checks in.

“Yes, yes, please, more, Tommy,” she responds eagerly.

“Happy to oblige,” he smiles before getting back to work. He slides in his first two fingers together this time, letting her unfurl her muscles and pull him inside, holds steady for a moment, leaving kisses on her thighs, the top of her mound, nosing at her curls. Once he feels her totally relaxed, he starts to withdraw, shallowly at first, before pumping back inside slowly. He steadily adds length to each stroke, until she’s easily taking all of his thick, long fingers without resistance. The sounds reverberating through the room are obscene. Pussy absolutely squelching, moans unabashed as he hits her just right every few strokes, then he adds more.

He drops her leg, letting her open for him like she did for their partner, giving him access to his other hand. He uses his newfound freedom to curve above where his face hovers and pulls back the little flap of skin hooding her sweet clitoris. He leans his face down and points his tongue, pressing firmly, directly onto her fully exposed button for a second before flicking it at a rapid pace up and down, back and forth, all the time never ceasing his movements inside her.

“Tommy, Tommy, fuck I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna–” she nearly shouts, feeling her tense, squeezing his fingers like a vice, before she releases, walls of her cunt pulsating in time with the pounding of her heart, slickness coating down to his palm.

“There you go, sugar. Gorgeous when you fall apart,” he praises. “You ok to keep going, or you need a break?”

She sits up, phone forgotten for a moment, dropping it to her side while she answers, “Give me like 30 seconds. I wanna do that again, with her this time,” she points at their partner who is looking at the scene in front of her with poorly concealed awe on her face, never seeing another woman orgasm up close like this before.

“Think we can do that, sugar. You up for it, babygirl?” He turns to check on his other partner.

“Ye–mmh,” she starts, voice thick, before clearing her throat and trying again. “Yeah, yes, please. I would like that very much.”

“Alright, sweetpea, hop on in here. You get stuck, you wanna stop, you need anything, just say, ok? We got you,” he reassures her with his words, clean hand running over her hair gently and down to cup her cheek.

She situates herself between her partner’s thighs and looks up, offering a shy, “Hi, again,” and giggling. Her partner giggles back and waves a little wave. “I’m just gonna…” she starts, and presses in her first two fingers, knowing the feeling of her own cunt, but finding the feeling of another woman’s entirely new at the same time. She starts a slow and easy rhythm, building her confidence with every new sound she drags out of her partner.

“Want to try adding your mouth?” Tommy encourages. She leans down, hovering right over where she’s most wanted, and looks up and makes direct eye contact with the camera in her partner’s hands before she licks. Her partner throws her head back and groans, something deep and real, almost animalistic. She continues, alternating between a pattern of flicking like Tommy and lapping like before, absolutely devouring the juicy pussy in front of her. The loud squish squish squish she’s drawing from inside her cunt causing her own core to pull tight and hot, the liquid of her slicking her nearly to dripping onto the sheets below.

Tommy watches on absolutely rapt. Cock angry at him for not sinking into the nearest tight, hot, wet hole immediately. He staves off his primal desire, giving it a harsh squeeze at the base, tell it to behave a little while longer, the chastity will be worth the reward they have planned.

“God, baby, sugar, so sexy, look so goddamn gorgeous together, sound so gorgeous together, fuck,” he rambles, knowing he doesn’t have long until he needs to come.

He squeezes the base of his cock once more, taking his lower lip between his teeth and bites down hard as he gets lost in the mix of obscene moans coming from his two partners. It’s like a symphony to his ears, (and his cock). He makes the executive decision to remove himself from the scene momentarily and swipes a bottle of water from a nearby table and twists the cap off in a haste.

The mushroom head of his cock is red, angry and engorged as he downs the entire bottle, a few stray drips of water roll down his chin, neck, and between his pecs.

When he makes his way back to the bed, both women are coming down from their highs, bodies slick with a sheen of sweat coating them like a sultry mist. They’re a mess of giggles and praises when Tommy situates himself once more. He presses a warm kiss to the shoulder blade of his bedside partner, nipping playfully with his teeth.

“How are we feelin’, ladies? Can teacher Tommy getcha anything? Refreshments? Need a breather?” His tone is light and carefree, genuine.

His bedside partner who has her cheek resting against the pelvic bone of the other woman, looks over at him with a newfound confident grin. Her face and lips are covered in slick that glistens on her skin. She makes direct eye contact with him briefly before her eyes slowly drift southwards to his cock. She coyly smiles and peers back upwards to him. “Well, there is one thing you could get for me..” she trails off.

He’s proud, it’s written all over his face and he does his best to contain his genuine smile and craft it into a convincing smirk. But it’s moments like these where he’s reminded just how much he loves his job. The reward of a satisfying orgasm is almost always certain, but to see a woman come out of her shell so naturally? Now, that’s a spectacle that he holds onto dearly.

“What is it that you want me to do for you, doll?”

“Teacher Tommy, can you please fuck me while I eat her pretty pussy?” She asks sweetly, eyes glazed over, pussy drunk undoubtedly, but the way she’s eyeing his cock has Tommy nearly combusting right there on the spot.

“You want teacher to fuck you now? Mmm. Think I can manage that, baby. You okay with me goin’ in raw? S’what I prefer, but whatever the lady wants.” He reassures her.

This type of conversation rarely ever takes place in mainstream porn. Most people would end up skipping through to get back to the main event, but Joel’s and Tommy’s viewers were different. They thoroughly enjoyed all the real bits of dialogue and relatable moments.

She giggles and pushes herself up into a sitting position between the other woman’s thighs. “Fuck me raw, please.”

“Atta girl.” He grins and gives the base of his cock a few slow pumps. He’s at the point where he’s hoping, praying that he can last through this without coming too soon. Despite his years of built up stamina, sometimes pussy is just that good.

He watches with hooded eyes as his bedside partner rolls back over onto her stomach, back arched as she dives right back into what Tommy taught her about the art of pussy eating. There’s no hesitation on her end as she laps at the other woman’s clit, eyes fluttering shut as she savors the tangy taste on her tongue.

The bed dips down slightly as Tommy situates himself behind her. His hands slide around her hips, yanking her back towards him in a sudden motion. Her weeping hole is pulsing, pushing out a drool of slick that gathers between her thighs, and he marvels at the sight of it.

“Fuckin’ gorgeous pussy you got, babygirl. Fuckin’ drippin’ all over the goddamn sheets.” He whistles low. “Eatin’ pussy really turned ya on, huh? Mmm. Your little hole is just beggin’ to be fucked.” He rasps and drops one hand from her hip to spread open her thighs further so that he can get a proper look.

“Such a needy lil’ cunt. Fuck. Don’t worry, baby. Teacher Tommy is gonna take real good care of ya, I promise.”

“Please, please, please fuck me, Tommy.” She mumbles against the woman’s cunt, mouth full of pussy. She presses her ass back towards him, desperate to feel the sweet stretch of his cock.

“Alright, alright, darlin.’ I know how eager you are, baby. Trust me, I know.” He chuckles before spitting directly onto his cock. He rubs his saliva in for extra lubrication (not that he needs it) before he notches the head of his cock at her entrance. He’s so painfully hard that he has to press down on it with his thumb to get the angle right as he slowly guides it into her wet warmth. She hugs him like the tightest fucking glove, pulling him in further and further till he’s bottomed out with his hips firmly pressed against her ass.

Vulgar, crude, filth tumbles past his lips as her pussy squeezes him like a vice he never wants to part from. He lets out a puff of hot air, before he chuckles, tone deep and raspy, “Jesus fuckin’ christ, doll. This pussy made outta liquid gold or somethin’? Lord have mercy, goddamn.”

Between moans both women couldn’t help but giggle at his comment, but those giggles transformed into cries of pleasure when Tommy almost immediately set a grueling pace, thrusting in and out of her. His skin slapped against hers wildly as the entire length of his impressive cock disappeared and reappeared again. Her jaw went slack and the movements of her mouth on the other woman’s pussy had soon become uncoordinated and messy.

“Don’t you stop eatin’ her pussy on my account, doll. I know how fuckin’ good it feels to have my cock stretchin’ your pussy apart, but c’mon, baby. You can do this.” He encourages her, leaning down with the breadth of his shoulders pressing into her back as he leans over, cock buried so deep inside of her, she can feel the head of him kissing her womb. “Want you to suck her clit into your mouth, babygirl. Remember to be nice n’gentle. It’s a sensitive little thing, and she’s so-so close. Make her come for me, baby, c’mon. Make her come for Teacher Tommy.”

She nods fervently, trying to focus back in on making the other woman feel good, while also enjoying her own pleasure. By god, Tommy Miller has a nice fucking cock, and he sure as hell knows how to use it. She suckles her clit into her mouth as instructed, rolling her tongue over the little pulsing bud. She uses her hands to keep her thighs spread apart when they threaten to close in around her skull.

“That’s it. Good fuckin’ girl.” He growls praisingly. “Makin’ her pussy sing, baby. Makin’ her feel so fuckin’ good. Teacher Tommy is so-so proud. But y’know what would make him even prouder, babygirl? Makin’ her pretty pussy squirt all over your face. C’mon, baby, you and me. Let’s get her there.”

He receives a chorus of enthusiastic “yes, yes, yes, teacher Tommy.”

He grinds his hips deep into her ass before pulling back shallowly and thrusts back in, repeating the pattern as he instructs. “Now to get her there, baby. Y’gotta do somethin’ extra special. Want you to slip your fingers back inside of her, and crook your ‘em inwards. Keep ‘em right there and do that as fast as you can. Drag ‘em n’ shake ‘em just right while you suckle on that sweet lil’ clit, and she’ll really sing for ya then.” His southern twang is thick and raspy, his own orgasm impending, but he’ll be damned if he comes too soon.

She obeys enthusiastically as she remembers just how Tommy taught her how to eat her out and finger her at the same time. She slips two fingers inside of her pulsing hole, scissoring them open before she crooks them inwards, right against that soft, spongy warm spot. She curls them at a rapid quick pace while she sucks on her clit just like she did before. The other woman wails and keens her hips forward into her face, chanting her name as her fingers grip her head tightly, nails scraping her scalp.

“O—oh—oh fuck!” She cries out, throwing her head back, “I’m gonna cum! Oh god, don’t stop! Please, please, please!” She sees stars behind her eyes as white hot pleasure shoots from the top of her spine and down to the tips of her toes.

“Come for us, sugar. C’mon, soak her fuckin’ face!” Tommy’s voice is commanding, dominant as his own carnal need for release seeps in, and they get a little taste of what Brazzer’s era Tommy was like for a moment.

The three of them come at nearly exactly the same time, orchestrated by the maestro himself. There’s a shared moment of real vulnerability as they let themselves go. He shoots hot ropes of his cum into her pussy from behind when he hears the telltale hiss of liquid shoot out of their sweet sugar, giving her a taste of the divine nectar for the first time. Her cunt milks him fucking dry, her orgasm fluttering for a long moment after the first handful of tight squeezes, and when he slowly begins to slip out, his cock is gleaming in a creamy mixture of both of their releases.

When she finally comes up for air, she’s coated in the other woman’s release and the space between her face and the other woman’s pussy is positively drenched.

Tommy preens at the sight, gently pulling the woman he was fucking up into a sitting position as she falls back against his hard chest. He kisses all over her face, tilting her head to the side so he can chase her lips and taste their partners cum on his tongue. “Did so good, baby. So-so fuckin’ good. M’so proud.” He kisses the tip of her nose before his attention is drawn to their other partner. “Let’s go and give her a well deserved cuddle, shall we, babygirl?” He wiggles his brows playfully as she reaches up to push back his sweaty, messy black curls that have fallen over his face.

They move in a languid motion to settle against either side of the other woman who appears to be in a post-orgasmic haze when she feels two pairs of soft, wet, lips peppering endearing kisses up her arms and to her face.

She giggles, eyes peeking open, glazed over as Tommy gently cups her face and strokes her cheekbone with his thumb.“Did so fuckin’ good for us, sugar. So fuckin’ good. Teacher Tommy is so proud of his star students.” he preens.

She lets out a pleasant sigh, and stretches her legs out, causing her pussy to squelch from the movement, and they laugh at the sound. “That was fucking incredible.” She finally says, catching her breath as Tommy’s free hand slowly wanders down between her thighs. When she feels his fingers drag through her folds, her hips jolt up against his hand and she lets out a soft yelp of surprise.

He chuckles and says, “Easy now, sugar. Jus’ wanted to see the mess you made s’all.” he rasps warmly.

“Jesus, dude!” She laughs and swats at his hand. “I’m fucking sensitive!”

He laughs again, withdrawing his hand and lets it rest on her hip instead. He feigns disappointment as their other partner tucks herself up around her side, draping her arm across her middle. “So does that mean you don’t want my cock?” He teases and she giggles.

“Fuck. I think I’m spent, Teacher Tommy,” she jokingly tacks on the nickname. “Maybe next time?”

“S’alright, sugar. Teacher Tommy understands. And besides, I think it’s snack time anyway. Y’all good with eatin’ out?” He coyly winks at the camera and the girls groan and roll their eyes. “What?! I meant orderin’ pizza s’all.”

Joel is working in his office, the door left open in case anyone needs him. He’s updating their channel page when he hears the familiar sound of Tommy’s footsteps approaching. Tommy is a repeat offender of strolling around the studio naked after a scene, so Joel doesn’t even look away from the screen, just hollers from his seat to avoid being confronted with the image of his brother’s bare cock and balls.

“Boy, if you don’t put on some fuckin’ pants...” He scolds with a tight shake of his head.

The younger Miller brother scoffs playfully and fights the urge to roll his eyes, “What? I just needed to grab my wallet! We're ordering pizza, you want anything?"

Joel pauses his typing as he leans back in his chair before saying, “Yeah, for you to put on some fuckin’ pants, you imbecile.”

“Cool, cool, so extra sausage?” Tommy teases and Joel threatens to throw his pen at him.

“No, you fuckwad. Pepperoni.” He emphasizes, “and none of that thin crust shit, Tommy. I’m serious.”

"I keep tellin' ya, Joel, just give the sausage another chance! You might actually like it!" He winks. “Speakin’ of giving things a chance, I had a proud teachin’ moment back there! Taught one of ‘em to properly eat pussy, and my god, she did fantastic! Even made her squirt!”

“Tommy, I tried it, and I didn’t like it, and I ain’t ever gonna like it.” He huffs before a grin begins to tug on the corner of his lips. “S’that so? Sounds like y’all had a party. Good job, little brother.”

“Oh, we had a party alright. Anyway, extra sausage, and super fuckin’ thin crust, anythin’ else?”

“I swear to god—” Joel threatens but Tommy is quicker than that so before Joel can throw his pen directly at his head, Tommy takes off down the hall gleefully.

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#fic: the rite of movement #teacher tommy #tommy miller #tommy miller fanfiction #tommy miller smut #tommy miller fluff #tommy miller fic #tommy miller x f!reader #tommy miller x female reader #tommy miller x you #tommy miller x reader #pornstar!tommy #Tommy miller x f!oc’s #Tommy miller x female oc’s #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #pornstar!joel

[pedroscurls]

Title: The Teacher (Part 1).

CHAPTER TITLE: Welcome to Jackson

Character(s): Joel Miller, Reader (female, first person POV), Tommy Miller, Maria Miller Summary: You have been on your own for over a year and after Maria saves you and brings you to Jackson, you try and settle in, doing your best to contribute to the community. Though, it doesn’t help that your neighbor, Joel Miller, reminds you of a special person from before the outbreak.  Word Count: 3,872 Author's Note: I’m still getting used to writing Joel Miller (and Pedro Pascal stories in general), but this idea has been on my mind for weeks now and I hope you all enjoy. Thanks for reading!  Warning: None.

You were dirty, exhausted, and starving when you arrived in Jackson. A woman named Maria found you, passed out in the middle of a field; she was sure that you were dead, but when your eyes opened and you scrambled to grab your gun, she knew that you were very much alive. 

You didn’t know if you were dead or dreaming, but you were sure this wasn’t real. Jackson was a real community, a resemblance of the old world, and you were in utter disbelief. 

Maria must have taken notice of the look on your face because she let out a soft chuckle and looked over at you.

“Welcome to Jackson.”

“T–This is real?” Your throat felt dry and your voice came out as a whisper. Being alone for over a year meant you rarely spoke. Your voice sounded foreign to you, almost as if it didn’t belong to you.

“Very real. My father and I built this community, trying to bring back some semblance of the old world.” Maria smiled. “My husband helps me run this community and you’ll meet him later. As of right now, how about we get you showered, some clean clothes, and then some food?”

Your eyes widened.

“You have water? Food?”

Maria just smiled. She would never get tired of that expression on people’s faces when they see Jackson for the first time. She took pride in it, being able to restore what once was. 

“Yes, we do.”

“I’m not dead, right?”

Maria chuckled. “I can assure you that you aren’t. Come. Follow me.”

You felt out of place as she walked you through the community. Everyone was polite, nodding in Maria’s direction and flashing you a smile once they saw that you were with her. 

You almost bumped into Maria once she stopped walking, your eyes taking in all of Jackson. You muttered an apology and she simply just smiled, nodding her head.

“Don’t worry about it. We’re here.”

“Here? It’s a house.”

Maria chuckled, leading her inside. You noticed two men sitting on a couch in the living room. One had slightly longer hair while the other man had shorter hair, however, both men had a beard and when the longer haired man stood, you immediately went to stand behind Maria. You had encountered plenty of men since the outbreak and not all of them were pleasant. 

“Hi baby,” he said, leaning over to kiss Maria’s cheek. He gave you a polite smile and you noticed the way Maria leaned against him. This was her husband. “Who’s this?”

She said your name and stepped to the side so that you could face Tommy. You didn’t meet his eyes though, staring down at your feet as you tried to make sense of what this was. 

Were they just putting up a facade of being nice? 

Was this place too good to be true? 

“Well, nice to meet ya. I’m Tommy,” he smiled. He pointed over his shoulder and referred to the other man on the couch. “That old man over there is my older brother, Joel. Be a gentleman and say hello.”

Joel grunted, waving a hand in the air. “Howdy.”

“He’s a grouch,” Tommy teased. 

You actually giggled, a smile lining your lips. It had been a long time since you heard that sound escape your lips. You finally looked up at him, noticing the friendly look behind his eyes and then looked over his shoulder at Joel. 

“You’re okay,” Maria said, noticing your timidness. “I promise you, you’re safe here.”

“I’m sorry. I’m just– It’s all overwhelming,” you admitted. 

“That’s understandable. Well, you’re in good hands with Maria and I’m not only sayin’ that because she’s my wife,” he winked. 

Joel finally stood from the couch and walked over to the trio. He looked down at you and tilted his head, pocketing a hand in his jeans. 

“Welcome to Jackson,” he said.

You looked up at him, getting a good look at the other man. There was something about him that reminded you of someone you knew, of your old world, and it broke your heart. You just nodded in his direction before looking over at Maria, pleading with your eyes to bring you elsewhere but here. She noticed the look on your face and cleared her throat, motioning towards the stairs. 

“Come on. I’ll show you where the bathroom is.” 

Joel looked over at Tommy, furrowing a brow. “I say somethin’ wrong?”

Tommy shrugged. “I don’t think so, but you gotta admit… Jackson is pretty overwhelming for someone who has been out there for too long and from the looks of it, she seems like she’s been on her own for a while.”

Joel sighed. “Sure.” He knew what Tommy was referring to; when he and Ellie first arrived at Jackson, it was all so surprising to him too. “Makes sense.”

Both men moved back to the living room, sitting on the couch and each grabbing their beers. They glanced in the direction of the stairs when they saw Maria descending them. She walked over to the couch and sat next to Tommy, taking a deep breath. 

“She okay?” Joel asked.

Maria and Tommy looked at him. Normally Joel didn’t really care or bother to ask about a newcomer’s wellbeing. 

“What?” he asked, taking note of the couple’s looks. 

“Nothin’.” Tommy replied.

Maria cracked a smile before looking over at Tommy. “She’s in rough shape.”

“Where’d ya find her?”

“On one of my routes. I thought she was dead,” Maria sighed. “She was alone and looks like she’s been alone for a while.”

“That’s what I assumed too,” Tommy replied. “Know anythin’ about her?”

“She used to be a teacher,” Maria answered. “But that’s all I know.” 

“A teacher, huh?” Tommy asked. “That might be useful here in Jackson since we got little ones runnin’ around. Could be good to start a school.”

Maria nodded. “That’s exactly what I was thinking. Sounded like she loved teaching and getting her to talk about it helped her understand that I wasn’t a threat.”

“You? A threat?” Tommy scoffed. “Please.”

Maria narrowed her eyes, gently slapping his arm which caused a snicker to come from Joel. 

“Y’all are sure entertainin’,” he commented.

“By the way, there’s one house available that I was thinking she could move into…” Maria began, glancing between the Miller brothers. 

Tommy arched a brow in her direction. “And where’s that?”

“Next to Joel. I was noticing the way she was looking around and how overwhelmed she looked… Plus, she’s alone and she don’t need a big house. The one next to Joel’s is perfect for a single person.”

Joel shrugged. “I don’t really get a say in this, do I?”

Maria shook her head. “Nope, but I figure I let you know.”

“Well, thanks, that’s kind of you,” he teased playfully. 

“You just gotta promise to be a good neighbor,” Tommy laughed. “You know, be nice and… Well, neighborly.” 

Joel rolled his eyes. “I am nice.”

“You come off as a bit of a grouch.”

“I gotta agree,” Maria chimed.

“Okay, okay. I’ll be on my best behavior,” he scoffed. 

Before the trio could start talking again, you descended the stairs after the much needed shower. Your hair had grown and you pulled it into a single braid, strands of hair falling from your face. You were dressed in clothes that Maria had given you, thankful that they fit and actually felt quite comfortable. 

You were dressed in dark jeans with a dark t-shirt underneath a flannel. The boots, however, felt like clouds on your feet. It had been a long time since you felt this comfortable and this good. You tried to tell yourself that this was too good to be true, to not let your guard down, but it was difficult. This place had running water, food, clothes, and people who seemed genuinely nice. 

Joel immediately looked in your direction. Even before the shower, he had felt an immediate pull to you and he couldn’t quite put his finger on the reason why. Instead, he told himself to keep his distance, even now that he knew you would be his new next door neighbor. He didn’t need for his small circle to get bigger, so when you descended the stairs and met his gaze, he stood and pointed towards the front door. 

“I’m gonna get goin’,” he muttered, turning on his heel. “It was nice meetin’ ya.” He called out before leaving Tommy and Maria’s house in a hurry. The couple looked between each other and shared a knowing look before their attention was shifted to you. 

“You hungry?” Tommy was the first to break the silence once Joel left. “I can make a really good omelet,” he smiled.

Maria nodded in agreement. “He’s right. His omelets are pretty good.” 

“Sure,” you replied, looking between the couple. “I just feel like I’m imposing and–”

“Not at all,” Maria reassured. “We just wanna get to know you first before we show you where you’ll be staying.”

“Staying?”

Tommy stood and walked into the kitchen and you decided to take a seat next to Maria on the couch, looking over at the other woman. 

“There’s a small house nearby. It’s perfect,” she replied. 

“I’m fine with just a bed and–”

Maria nodded, saying your name to interrupt you. “Listen, Jackson is… We strive to provide a safe haven. All of us here have seen and encountered some very difficult situations. I promise you, you will be fine here.”

“Well, I have to contribute somehow.” You replied. 

“Of course. Tommy and I were already talking about the perfect job for you.”

“You have?”

Maria nodded. “We’ve been meaning to open up a school since we have lots of kids here, but could never find the right teacher.”

Your eyes lit up. Before the outbreak, you had been a teacher of all ages; elementary, middle, and high school generally. You loved being a teacher, enjoyed seeing your students and helping them succeed. So, when the world ended, it pained you to even think about where your students might be or what could have happened to them. You had such a big heart; you weren’t cut out for this new world, but you learned how to survive and how to protect yourself. 

“Really?” You finally replied. “I– I would be honored to teach the kiddos.”

“I remember seeing your face light up when we talked about what you used to do before Outbreak Day and well, it seems like the perfect job for you.” 

“Is there a catch?” You asked hesitantly. Again, it seemed too good to be true. 

Maria shook her head. “No catch, just avoid getting into trouble, contribute to the community, be civil with everyone… It’s basic–”

“Common sense,” you finished. “I honestly can’t thank you enough.”

“Like I said, Jackson’s a safe haven. We’re glad to have you.” 

Tommy interrupted the conversation to bring you a plate. The aroma of food filled your senses and once you received the plate, you didn’t hesitate to scarf down the contents, not even bothering to savor the taste.

“Whoa,” Tommy chuckled. “You might wanna slow down there or else you’ll get sick.”

You felt slightly embarrassed, nodding your head and swallowing the food in your mouth. “Sorry. It’s just– It’s been a while. I can’t believe you have eggs.”

“Yeah, it’s quite amazing actually. We’ve got a farm here in Jackson. We even have a butcher shop, a bar…”

You couldn’t believe it. You looked between Tommy and Maria before continuing to eat. “Thank you,” you repeated. “Thank you both.”

Tommy nodded, looking over at you. “So, Maria tells me you were a teacher.”

“Yeah. I loved teaching,” you smiled to yourself. “Each day was always different.” 

“You must have a lot of patience,” he chuckled.

“Something like that, yeah.”

“You married?” Tommy asked.

You choked on your food, looking up at him and back at Maria who looked to be scolding him with her eyes. 

“Damn, I’m sorry,” Tommy said. “Listen, you ain’t gotta–”

“Yes, I was married,” you interrupted him. You figure they wanted to know more about your life, about how you had survived this long; they didn’t only want to know what your line of work was before the world ended.

Maria looked over at you with soft eyes. “We’re so sorry…”

You sighed. “It’s okay, really.”

“Do you mind if I ask–”

“He died before Outbreak day, if that’s what you both are wondering.” You bit your lower lip, looking down at your plate and suddenly not feeling very hungry. You had dedicated yourself to your work when your husband unexpectedly passed. 

Maria sighed. “How long before Outbreak day?”

“Five years before,” you sighed. 

Tommy cursed under his breath and looked over at Maria. He had never thought he would settle down and to think that losing Maria only made him reach out to her and rest a hand protectively on her thigh.

“What–”

“Car accident,” you interrupted Tommy. “My husband was on his way back home from getting dinner. It was just– It was a terrible accident.” 

“How long were you two together?” Maria asked.

You smiled sadly. You could still remember the sound of his voice, the scent of his cologne every morning, the feel of his strong arms around you and the feel of his lips. He was truly your soulmate, your partner and losing him hurt just as much. 

“We met in high school. He was a couple of years older than me. We were high school sweethearts,” you replied with a sad smile. “We got married very young.”

Tommy immediately reached for Maria’s hand, lacing his fingers with hers instantly. It definitely made him grateful for the woman who was sitting next to him and Maria instinctively leaned against him. 

“We had a good life together,” you added. “It wasn’t long enough, but I was still grateful for the amount of time and the memories we shared.” 

“Did you both have any kids?” Maria asked.

You shook your head. “We tried, for a long time, but we found out I couldn’t get pregnant and so, being a teacher kind of filled that void. My students were my children,” you smiled sadly, bringing a hand to wipe your tears. “Sorry. It’s been a while since I talked about my old life. Seems like a very distant memory now.”

“Looks like you’ve been a fighter from the beginning,” Maria said. 

You shrugged. You never considered yourself a fighter, instead, you were just the type of person to just keep pushing forward, take it day by day. It didn’t make it any easier, but you were grateful that your husband wasn’t around to see what this world had become. 

Tommy nodded in agreement, glancing over at the front door as his mind drifted to Joel, the childhood they shared, and his life before Outbreak day. 

“You ready to go see where you’ll be staying?” Tommy asked.

You nodded. “Sure, but like I said, I’m fine with–”

Maria interrupted with a smile. “You ain’t winning this argument. Come on.”

You set your plate aside and followed Maria and Tommy out of their house. Once again, you were taken aback by your surroundings. Jackson did genuinely seem like a good place to be at and you internally decided to give this place a chance. You knew what it was like outside of these walls and you were more than capable of taking care of yourself, so you decided it would be nice to just… Not fight anymore. Not unless you had to. 

Once your house came to view, you noticed Joel sitting on his porch with a guitar and a cup at a small table nearby. He set the guitar down and nodded in your direction before going into his home. 

“Wait, he’s my neighbor?” You asked.

“Will that be a problem? I promise, he’s a big softie inside.” Tommy chuckled. 

You shook your head. You glanced over at the house next door and bit your lower lip; you knew there was just something about Joel that reminded you of your husband, but you couldn’t put your finger on it. 

“No, not at all. I was just wondering. He just– It didn’t seem like he liked me.”

Maria chuckled, “That’s just Joel, but I promise you, he’s a really good man.” 

Tommy nodded in agreement. “He also lives with a young girl named Ellie, so you might see her around as well.”

“I’m just grateful to be here,” you replied. “Thank you again.”

They led you into the home and you were overwhelmed once more. You looked around and let tears fill your eyes at the sight. It was small and cozy, already furnished with the necessary furniture and decorations. 

“You’re surprised,” Tommy noticed. 

“I just– It’s like this isn’t real,” you replied. “Like I’ve died and this is what the afterlife is.”

Maria chuckled, “Well, I think that’s quite the compliment.”

Tommy smiled, “Maria and her father worked hard to build this community and we’re just trying to resemble life before the outbreak.”

You bit your lower lip. “How do you know who to take in and who to push away?”

Maria and Tommy looked at each other. “Let’s just say we follow our gut feeling.”

You shook your head, looking between the couple. “And your gut is always right?”

Maria shrugged, “Everyone deserves a second chance. This new world has caused all of us to do things we would never do, but we honestly believe that people’s morality is still there… Somewhere.”

You sighed in relief, looking at Maria. You didn’t know what you deserved to have been saved by her, to be here in Jackson, but you were grateful. It sounded like the people of this community were genuinely nice people and it was a change of pace from the groups you had been in before. 

Maybe you would be able to develop friendships, let your guard down, allow yourself to live again. 

“I don’t think I can ever thank you enough,” you told Maria. “I’m so grateful…”

Maria gently placed a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly. “We were meant to meet and I’m a firm believer that things happen for a reason.”

“Me too,” you smiled. “And I can’t wait to start teaching.”

Tommy grinned, “That’s great to hear. I’m sure the other families will be excited too. For now, how about you take a couple of days to get yourself settled and we can discuss everything later?”

Maria nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I agree. We’ll get things settled on our end and meet back with you so that we’re all on the same page.”

“That sounds great, thank you.”

“And if you need anything, you know where we live,” Tommy said. “And Joel’s right next door also.”

You bit your lower lip. 

Joel.

“Thank you,” you repeated. 

When the couple left your home, you looked around and sighed to yourself. It was hard to relax, but you used this time to walk around and get yourself acquainted with your new house. In the living room, there was a bookcase attached to the wall with a loveseat and sofa seated in the middle. To the left of your living room was a small, rounded dining table with a cozy looking kitchen. You imagined yourself cooking again and it brought you such excitement. Then, down the hall, you noticed the bathroom to the left and right across was a bedroom. Stepping inside, your eyes widened at the large bed in the middle with two nightstands on either side. There was also a large dresser facing the bed with a mirror attached. 

It was truly cozy and perfect for just one person. 

You immediately went to the bed and fell back onto it, feeling the softness of the mattress bring you immediate comfort. It had been so long since you had fallen asleep on a mattress and you curled into a ball, finding yourself drifting. 

You were exhausted and now that you felt safe, you had fallen into a deep slumber. Though, you were only asleep for a couple of hours before you jolted awake. You glanced around the bedroom, blinking away the sleep as you remembered where you were. The sun was peering through your window, showcasing that it was near sunset, so you walked to your kitchen, rummaging through the cupboards. You found a glass and filled it with water from the sink, downing the contents. 

Then, you walked out onto your porch and smiled at the sight of the sky. It was beautiful. There was a hint of orange and red in the blue sky, noticing the sun slowly beginning to set. Before you could look around, you heard his voice. 

“Hey,” Joel called out. 

You walked over to the end of your porch near his house and saw him lean against his railing with a cup in his hand.

“Hi.”

Joel cleared his throat, bringing his cup to his lips. He was staring at you and he didn’t know exactly what else to say. He didn’t even know why he started a conversation in the first place, but once again, when he saw you, he felt himself wanting to get closer, to get to know you, and he didn’t know why.

“Sorry,” he started. “Um, how d’ya like your place?”

You glanced over your shoulder and smiled to yourself. “It’s cozy. I still can’t believe this place exists, if I’m being honest with you.”

Joel let the corner of his lips turn upwards, glancing over at the sky and noticing how there was a glow around you that he found himself captivated by. It had been such a long time since he had felt this way and it was as if he didn’t know how to act. 

“Yeah. Jackson can be a bit overwhelming,” Joel replied. “Maria mentioned you were a teacher?”

You smiled over at him. Joel found himself biting his lower lip at the sight of your smile. “I was, yeah. Maria and Tommy mentioned starting a school for the kids in this community and wanted me to teach, so I guess I’m gonna be teaching again.”

“Oh?” Joel tilted his head. “You excited?”

“Very,” you replied. 

Joel nodded, dropping his eyes down to his boots. He wanted to invite you over to his porch, so you both could talk more, to be closer, rather than at a distance. 

You couldn’t take your eyes off of him, noticing his quiet demeanor and how he looked to be in deep thought. You bit your lower lip, finding yourself wanting to talk to him more. 

“Have you seen all of Jackson yet?” Joel asked. 

You shook your head. “I feel like I could get lost,” you teased.

Joel smiled. “Well, would ya like a tour?”

“Are you gonna be my tour guide?” You teased. 

Joel nodded, “I’ll make sure you won’t get lost.”

You felt butterflies in your tummy and your cheeks heating up at the offer. You couldn’t help but allow the smile to line your lips once more. “You promise?” 

“With me, you’ll be in good hands, darlin’.”

---

Part 2.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfic #joel miller #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fanfic #tlou #tlou fanfiction #tlou fanfic #joel x reader #joel miller x reader #story: the teacher

[mentallyunstablegoldfish]

[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.

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 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.

————————————————————————————

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.

————————————————————————————

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

[rosepascal]

The Light Of All Lights || Teacher!Joel Miller x Teacher!Reader

"There are darknesses in life and there are lights, and you are one of the lights, the light of all lights." - Bram Stoker (Dracula)

summary: Joel Miller is an AP English teacher on thin ice with administration and a past that has turned him into a cold, withdrawn man. You're the new English 1-2 teacher who didn't get off on the right foot with him. But being forced to work together could change things between the two of you as you learn more about him and about the school.

series warnings: mentions of child neglect/abuse (specifically being underfed and ignored), mentions of past death/trauma, the foster care system failing a child.

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Epilogue

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller angst #teacher!joel miller

[imyourrjoy]

Masterlist 🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒

Criminal minds

Sugar mommy!Emily ♡ 1 ♡ 2

Dbf!Emily ♡ 1

Dad!hotch ♡ 1

Soft!aaron ♡ 1 ♡ 2

Your instagram, but you're dating spencer reid ♡ 1

CM character hc instagrams ♡1♡

Moodboard ♡E.P 1♡ S.R 1♡

Spencer reid smut drabble ♡1♡

The last of us

Overprotective!joel ♡ 1

Joel x teacher!reader ♡masterlist♡

Joel x pastorsdaughter!reader ♡masterlist♡

Joel x tess x reader ♡preview 1♡

Harry potter

Bellatrix lestrange ♡ 1

Moodboard ♡H.G 1♡

Other

Teacher!reader polls ♡ 1 ♡ 2

Baddie grogu ♡1♡

2023 kinktober ♡masterlist♡

Request and anons

Who is imyourrjoy

♡ 1

#criminal minds #emily prentiss #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #aaron hotchner #criminal minds drabble #emily prentiss smut #joel miller #tlou #criminal minds smut #dad!hotch #sugarmommy!emily #bellatrix x reader #bellatrix lestrange #joel tlou #tlou fanfiction #tlou poll #tlou x reader #joel miller x teacher!reader #imyourrjoy masterlist

[bieachella]

more teacher joel PLEASE

this sorta turned into tutor!joel but yknow. an educators an educator

a/n: reader is in highschool but shes 18 soooo

warnings: idek but this is so smutty

the sun was setting, casting a warm golden light into the dining room where joel- or mr. miller was sat, his tie hanging loosely from his neck and his hair slightly disheveled

your mother had suggested that since finals were getting close, a tutor would be the best option if you wanted a good grade.

luckily, your favorite teacher was offering tutoring sessions.

your feet softly padded along the tiles in your kitchen into the wooden floors of the dining room, 

“dont got all day, doll,��� he called out, “you want that A, you gotta work for it,” he teased.

you playfully rolled your eyes at his comment as you approached the dining room table. 

“y’know, i missed you, joel,” you say, like it was a given. you rest your hands on his shoulders and lean down to give him a gentle peck on the cheek. he doesn't respond, only turning his head slightly to capture your lips in a soft, lingering kiss. 

“missed you too, sweetheart,” he murmured against your lips, he leaves a chaste kiss against your lips before pulling away, “but im getting paid to be here, baby.”

you roll your eyes at him extra dramatically, his gaze follows yours, trying to find your eyes.

a smile tugs at his lips when he says “now what’d your parents say if they find out you’re not learnin’ anything from our sessions?”

“fine, mr miller," you playfully conceded, emphasizing his title with a smirk. 

-

you tried your best to be good, to not be distracted, you really did, but the way his voice caressed your name and how his touch lingered on your skin made it almost impossible to focus.

you let your hand creep towards his, tracing circles on the back of it before letting it fall to his thigh, the warmth sending a chill down your spine 

he turns to you and breaks the silence, “you make it incredibly hard to focus, y’know that, doll?”

the pet name alone sends a gush of heat between your thighs. you bite your lip, trying to stifle the wave of desire that washes over you. 

“thats the idea," you whisper, your voice barely audible in the intimate space between the two of you. your heart pounds in your chest, and your eyes fall to the growing tent in his pants.

he follows your eyes and shifts in his seat

“this what you want, baby?” he fists his cock through his jeans and uses his free hand to tilt your chin to meet his gaze

you nod, face hot with desire

“yeah? I dont think you deserve it though, doll.” the words spill from his mouth like honey, clearly relishing the power he has over you.

you shake your head repeatedly, “please, ill be good, i'll do whatever you say-”

he tsk’s at your pleads, “uh uh, please what?”

“please, mr miller” you breathe out

his hands had somehow found their way to the waistband of your panties in the midst of your exchange.

with a quick tug, he pulls your panties down, discarding them somewhere under the table, “gonna do what i say, ‘mkay?” he says as a statement rather than a question

you nod furiously

his fingers find your slick folds and you let out a barely audible whimper

your eyes are fixed on the wet spot that you’d left on the chair and you were taken aback a little when he began reading the questions off the review, eyes darting back and forth from the bottom of your seat to him.

his free hand grabbed a fist full of your hair and forcefully averted your gaze toward him

“you listen’n, doll?” he says 

you were already a mess, cheeks flushed and eyes watering from the attention, or lack there of you were getting 

you hum in response only for him to tighten his grip in your hair

“yes, yes, i'm listening, baby,” you breathe out

“good,” he murmurs, voice laced with authority, “now what was’at?”

-

you answer correctly and joel rewards you by sliding a finger in your leaking cunt

you buck your hips instinctively and he chuckles at your squirm

he fingers you till you’re right there. 

so fucking close.

“fuck, mr. miller, need you”

he leans in close, hot breath brushing against your ear as he whispers, “you drive me fuckin’ crazy, sweetheart.”

he makes quick work of his belt, holding it in one hand and freeing his painfully hard cock from his jeans

his hand finds your waist, and he gestures toward his lap

you move quickly, wasting no time sinking onto him

fuck.. fuck, you felt like you could feel him in your lungs

“thaaat's it, doll, take it all,” he thrusts into you the second you’re settled and your hands claw at his chest and he wraps his large hand around both your wrists, bringing them to the small of your back and looping the belt around.

you don't try to fight the restraints

“show me how much you missed me.” he says as his lips find your neck, leaving a trail of gentle, open-mouthed kisses along your collarbones, 

you feel his lips curve into a playful smile against your skin as he senses your response. with a gentle tug, he tilts your head to the side, exposing more of your neck to his eager lips. 

his kisses gradually ascend, leaving a path of glisten, until his lips finally meet yours.

the sensation of his tongue slipping past your parted lips sends a surge of electricity throughout your body. 

-

you bring your hips up and drop them, finally having an almost rythm, trying not to losing balance from lack of leverage.

the sound of your skin slapping against each other and the squeak of the chair beneath you is enough to have you instinctively bury your head into joel's neck

“gonna come baby, please,” you manage to say

“please what, doll? what is it, huh, y’need my come?” he 

“yes, yes, fuck, yes,” you cry out “need your come inside me”

with that, his warm seed coats you and your bodies convulse together, waves of pleasure crashing through you.

he works the belt around your wrists and you both lie there, waiting for someone to say something.

you lift your head and your hands find the hair at the nape of his neck.

you both hesitate for a second, his eyes locked with yours,

“guess i missed you too,” he says playfully, finally breaking the silence

#joel miller #joel miller smut #pedro x reader #tlou smut #tlou #teacher!joel miller #teacher!joel #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal

[alltheirdamn]

Killing Me Softly | (Joel x teacher!f!reader)

Chap. 4: Lost In Moonlight

Chp. 4 Summary: You couldn't deny Joel any longer. You needed him. Rating: Explicit 18+ MDNI Word Count: 7.8k Warnings: SMUT (finally), unprotected piv sex, nipple play, cock riding, cum eating, creampie, oral (f receiving), fingering, praise kink, dirty talk, pet names (baby, good girl), aftercare, heavy kissing, mentions of past emotional abuse, soft!joel, so much FLUFF!!! A/N: I know this is what y'all have been waiting for, so I hope I did this moment justice :') I'm putting together a lil playlist for this fic, so please lmk if you're interested in seeing it! xoxo <3

Masterlist | Ko-Fi

Flower petals were strewn across the entryway as you and Joel staggered through the dark house. You couldn’t find the time—or care—to flick on the lights, too busy finding Joel’s mouth in the darkness. His hands caressed every curve of your body, fingers reaching under the seam of your sweatshirt to press against your warm skin. You tried blindly guiding him toward your room, only to awkwardly bump into corners and walls in the search, leaving you giggling and Joel cursing. You were nearly at the door when he stopped short, pinning you to the wall of the hallway so that he could devour your mouth once more. Helpless moans left your lips as he coaxed your mouth open wider, his hands roaming down your lower back. You pressed yourself closer to his chest, the outline of his hardened cock rubbing against your upper thigh. Joel pulled away from your mouth, his breath ragged as he palmed your ass with his large hands.

“I don’t want you regrettin’ this in the mornin’ if it’s not what you want,” he panted. 

“Don’t try and tell me what I want, Joel,” you whispered, kissing down the base of his neck.

He let out a shaky breath, his hands squeezing you harder. By the night's end, not a single inch of you would be left untouched. You raised your mouth to his ear, grazing over the shell of it with the tip of your tongue.

“I’m sick of pretending like I don’t want you.”

“You’re killin’ me, baby,” he groaned. 

You searched for his hand through the blanket of darkness around you, guiding him to your bedroom. You counted the steps in your head until the back of your knees hit the mattress, and you were falling back. Joel tumbled over you, one knee propped up beside your waist while his other leg was wedged between your thighs. His hands pulled at the hem of your sweatshirt, tugging it up your body until you took control and stripped it off in one fluid motion. It barely hit the ground before his hands were all over you, the touch of his skin on yours electrifying you beyond words. Every touch was soft…so fucking soft. It was dizzying to be handled so gently and with such determined intensity. Where you struggled for words, Joel responded with another caress, another kiss, another praise of adoration. 

The pads of his fingers began tracing down your sternum, working at the material of your bra. 

“Can I?” he asked, reaching behind your back.

“Yes,” you exhaled.

His fingers made easy work of the clasp, freeing you of your bra in record time. Even if you were drenched in shadows, you knew Joel’s eyes were washing over your body with rapt attention. 

“Jesus Christ, you’re fuckin’ beautiful,” he muttered as he leaned back over you.

His mouth was hot against your collarbone as he worked his way down your chest. Peppered kisses trailed over the swell of your breasts, and you arched into his gentle touch as he swirled his tongue around your hardened nipples. His tongue flicked at the sensitive skin, forcing a breathy whine to escape your lips. Joel’s teeth grazed over the soft skin of your breast before dipping his head lower and scattering your navel with soft kisses. 

“Joel,” you whimpered, carding your hands through his hair.

A thin sheen of sweat hung on the curls, forcing them to stick against his temples and forehead. You raked your nails over his scalp, earning a deep groan that rumbled through his chest. He pulled himself up so that he stood over you, and as your vision adjusted to the darkness, you watched as his hands worked at tugging his shirt over his neck and shoulders. Fuck, you wished the lights were on so you could catalog every part of his body. You sat up on the bed, craning your neck back as you traced your fingers over the soft skin of his stomach and up his chest. The hair spattering his chest tickled your fingertips as you crept higher, your hands caressing the thick muscles on his shoulders. Joel’s hands reached to cover yours, halting your blind exploration of his body.

“We should stop,” he said, strained.

You cringed as he said those three words, letting your hands drop and wrap around your bare chest. You knew it was too good to be true; he didn’t want you. Even if every atom of his being called out to yours, like some prayer for divinity, he wanted to stop. 

“I—I understand,” you hesitated.

You didn’t know where to go, with him still looming over you, so you shuffled your body up the bed, trying to find the edge of your comforter so you could bury yourself in the deepest part of your mattress and disappear entirely. Joel’s hand shot out to grab your ankle, tugging you back to the edge of the bed, and you raised yourself on your forearms, staring at him confused. 

“We should stop,” he started. “Because I don’t have a condom.”

“I haven’t been with anyone in two years,” you confessed, adding, “I’m on birth control, too.”

“Are y’sure?”

You hooked a leg around his waist, tugging him closer until he was falling forward and caging you between his arms. You craned your head to capture his lips in a hungry kiss, holding him firm against you.

“I want this, Joel. I’m sure.”

That was all Joel needed to hear before he lost all semblance of control. His restraint was replaced with this frantic urgency as his fingers worked at the button and zipper of your jeans, yanking them down your thighs and leaving you exposed to the cool air circling your room. His pants were shed less than a minute later, and now you were both only separated by thin pieces of fabric that covered your lower halves. The press of Joel’s hardened cock against your thigh ignited a fire within your stomach, and your underwear dampened through at the thought of what he could do with it. Having sex with Bennett always felt like an obligation—a chore. But with Joel, you craved it beyond understanding. You needed to put emotions into action and feel how he thought about you. Every ounce of your resolve and control were far gone now, left somewhere between the front door and the bed beneath you. The second Joel had kissed you, you knew you’d never say ‘no’ to him again. He was a weakness you couldn’t control, and you were so tired of trying to keep him at a distance.

Joel’s hands worked at your underwear, and you let out a giggle when he tossed them carelessly across the room along with his own. Your heart pounded in your chest as he lifted your leg by the back of your knee, propping it over his broad shoulder. He angled the head of his cock against your slick entrance, coating it in your wetness before pushing in slowly. Your head fell back against the bed as he broke you open inch by inch. The agonizing stretch to adjust to him faded away, and you both moaned in unison as he bottomed out, filling you completely. 

“S’fuckin’ tight, baby,” Joel cursed. “Feels fuckin’ amazing.”

He started moving, his hips rocking against you at a tender pace as you squirmed under his body. Each thrust amplified the coiling warmth, creating an unbearable furnace inside you. You needed more; you needed to feel everything and forget every lingering emotion crawling through your mind.

“Harder,” you begged.

“Yeah?” Joel panted, driving into you with such force your body shoved up the bed. “Like that, baby?”

Your only response was a vigorous nod of your head and an outward cry as he plunged deeper with each snap of his hips. Sounds of your bodies slapping together, your endless cries of pleasure, and his ragged breath became a cacophony floating through the air around you. 

A car drove past your house, the headlights streaming through the blinds, drenching Joel’s silhouette for a fleeting moment. At that moment, you could see the flex of his arms, the pinch of his brows, and the slight tug of his lips upwards as he continued wrecking into you. Rewashed in darkness, you ached to see how his pupils blew wide as he gazed down on you. 

“God, you’re so fuckin’ perfect,” Joel muttered, squeezing your hips to anchor you against his body. Perfect. There was that word again, sounding so simple when he said it like it wasn’t a lie. Like he meant it. And every action he showed you proved he not only meant it but believed it. 

You chased the warmth that unfurled through your muscles, the pleasure building higher and higher until you could barely contain it. Joel must have felt it, too, because as your eyes scrunched tight, Joel’s fingers found the sensitive bud at the apex of your sex and drew long, tantalizing circles. That touch was all you needed to come undone completely; your body was paralyzed as the orgasm wracked through you with such intensity you lost all breath inside your lungs. 

“Good fuckin’ girl,” Joel hummed. “Let go, baby. Gimmie more.”

Bennett had never spoken to you this way, nor did he praise you when you came—which was rare with him. He barely did anything but grunt once in a while, but this? Hearing Joel talk you through every thrust, every ripple of your orgasm, only spurred you on more. You clung onto every word he spoke, like a moth to the flame, and his mouth was a forest fire. 

Joel bent forward, wrapping a strong arm around your back and hauling you over until you were perched on top of him. From this angle, his cock felt so much bigger, stretching you wider until your thighs ached. He sprawled back against the comforter; his hands splayed against your hips to guide you in fluid motions above him.

“Joel…” you exhaled, grinding your hips down against him. 

“Talk to me, baby. Tell me what you need,” he urged.

You lifted your hips, sinking back down onto him, finding the perfect rhythm that rendered you speechless. You couldn’t form words or think of anything else but his name.

“C’mon, baby. I know y’can use your words. I wanna hear you.”

“It’s just—.” You heaved in a breath as he rocked up into you. “You feel so fucking good, Joel. Your cock…”

“Keep talkin’,” he moaned.

Shuffling his knees up, Joel started pistoning into you hard, making it impossible to form coherent sentences. How were you to speak when his cock was driving into you so hard your vision was blurring? Joel gritted out your name, coaxing you from your chaotic thoughts. 

“Never.” You gasped. “Been fucked this good.” Another gasp. “Need this all the time. Need—you. Fuck… Joel…”

“I got you, baby. Ain’t gonna let you go.”

You whispered his name like a cantation, each syllable a broken prayer leaving your lips. Another orgasm throbbed inside your core, and you snaked your hand to rub circles against your swollen clit, trying to alleviate that growing ache throbbing in your veins. Joel’s pace was unrelenting as you toppled closer to the edge, a cry escaping your mouth as you felt your body seize up. The clench of your sex around his cock was enough to force him to the edge, too, and as you hit your climax, his release exploded inside you, with your name falling off his tongue.

Joel lifted himself, molding your bodies together in his firm grip, your lips crushing together as he swallowed the tiny sounds still finding their way up your throat. Your hands clasped around the sides of his neck, keeping his mouth locked with yours until you felt his cock soften inside you. With a roll of his hips, Joel had you pinned to the mattress once more, his cock slipping free as he worked his mouth down your body. You tensed as his mouth grew closer to your navel, embarrassment forcing your spine to stiffen.

“Joel,” you cautioned. “You—you don’t have to do that.”

His nose brushed over your stomach, his hands working in tandem to pry your legs apart. With a dip of his head, he placed a gentle kiss on each thigh, humming in satisfaction.

“Y’want me to stop, baby?” He asked, his warm mouth hovering over your sensitive clit.

“I just—.” You were flustered. “I’ve never had someone…”

His fingers flexed and tightened around the supple skin of your hips, and you could see his dark eyes peering up at you with confusion as his brows knit together. 

“Don’t you dare tell me you ain’t ever had a man eat your pussy,” he warned. 

You bit your lip and gave him a single nod of your head. Bennett never went down on you, always making some sort of excuse. “You wouldn’t like it.” “I’m too tired, honey.” “Maybe next time.” He never offered, and eventually, you gave up asking. You could hardly count any guy before him since most had been careless hookups and one-night stands—most of them leaving you to chase your orgasm after they left. You couldn’t even count on two hands the times Bennett actually made you cum, and now Joel was setting himself up to do it again…for the third time.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered, covering your face to hide the shame that burned under your cheeks.

“Baby, don’t do that,” Joel pleaded. “S’nothin’ to be sorry for, okay?”

“But you just…” You could feel his cum leaking out of you, still. Was he seriously considering this right now?

“I don’t care. I wanna taste us together, baby. Let me show you how good it can feel.”

You inhaled sharply, only responding with another tilt of your head. Joel’s mouth hovered over your slick entrance, his eyes still trained on you.

“Gimmie words, baby,” he said. “I need to hear you say ‘yes’.”

“Yes, Joel,” you whispered.

“Y’want my tongue?”

When you didn’t respond, he teased you with a sharp flick of his tongue against your clit, forcing a cry to erupt from your mouth. Joel groaned at your responsiveness to his touch, awarding you with a thick swipe of his tongue over your slick entrance. He worked at you like he was a dying man, and you were the last drop of water in an empty desert, lapping at every drop of cum dripping down your sex. You glanced at him, meeting his piercing stare between your legs. Rough fingers massaged your sore thighs while his tongue dove into you with such desperation you couldn’t tell if he was pleasuring you or if you were pleasuring him. Euphoria sparked in your veins, overwhelming you to the point of tears. Snaking a hand under your thigh, Joel worked two thick fingers inside you, prying you open and coaxing a sob from your throat. 

“Right there, oh my god. Joel, don’t stop,” you choked, gasping for air. 

His fingers and tongue worked at you in tandem, the orgasm surging inside you becoming all-consuming. It thrashed inside your veins and tore through you forcefully and without warning. You slumped against the comforter as your soul floated above your body. Was delirium a real thing? Because if it was, this was the precipice of madness. Joel swept a soft kiss over your aching clit before crawling on top of you again. Tangling his hand in the hair at the base of your neck, he brought his wet lips to yours until your lips parted, allowing his tongue to slip inside. 

“Taste yourself, baby,” Joel moaned into your open mouth. “Don’t we taste so fuckin’ good?”

“Mhmm,” you whimpered.

Joel kissed you fervently; each stroke of his tongue against yours was purposeful and searing, a blistering admission of devotion and admiration. You still felt undeserving of it all: his patience, tenderness, and kindness… but maybe this was a start. Maybe he was worth letting it. 

As the kisses slowed and your bodies begged to be unstuck from one another, you found a stream of tears rolling down your cheeks. Fuck. The euphoria you had been sucked into was fading into the distance, and you were overly aware of the emotions crashing at the surface. Your voice was hoarse as you mumbled his name, breaking away from his embrace. 

“I’m sorry,” you sniffled, turning your head into the pillows. 

Joel hushed your cries, dragging his thumb over your cheek to collect your tears. 

“What’s wrong, baby?” He asked. “Did I do somethin’ wrong?”

“No, no,” you said, voice muffled. “I’m okay. Everything was great.”

“Then why’re you cryin’?”

You turned your head back to face him, catching the furrow of his brows through bleary eyes. 

“It’s stupid,” you muttered.

“Talk to me, please.”

You curled into his arms, burrowing your head into the crook of his neck. The smell of sex and sweat wafted off of him, mixing with the lingering warm cologne wafting off his skin. You never wanted to leave this moment. You never wanted to be untangled from his limbs. It was a terrifying realization; this was something you wanted. 

“You’re just—not what I expected.” It came out as a mixture of a laugh and cry, leaving you gasping for breath. “I haven’t been the easiest person to get to know, and I haven’t been the kindest, but you… you haven’t left. I don’t understand why you haven’t left.”

“Hey, hey… oh, baby,” Joel crooned. “Look at me.”

Joel’s fingers slid under your chin, fighting against your reluctance as you met his shadowed gaze. In the sunlight, you could see the unmistakable flecks of amber and gold swirling in his eyes, but in the darkness, they were nearly black—but just as soft and ardent. 

“I’m not goin’ anywhere, okay? There ain’t a single thing that’s gonna change my mind about you. I know you’re worried about all this stuff happenin’ between us, but we can take things as slow as you want, baby. You call the shots from now on, and whatever you wanna do, I’ll be here,” he said. 

“I’m not worth—.”

“Don’t,” he interrupted. “You are worth it. I’ll spend every day provin’ it if that’s what it takes.”

You didn’t know what to say when all you could cling to were the lingering memories of Bennett and the words he had once said. Yes, you loved him at one point, but there were so many reasons to hate him. The constant fights, the constant feeling of never being enough, the constant silence. The silence. Bennett’s silence was a weapon he used to pacify you. You learned over time that speaking up and communicating your feelings was unimportant to Bennett; if anything, it was an opportunity to minimize your voice and keep you docile. You became the smallest version of yourself in his shadow, clawing for scraps of his attention to try and keep the relationship afloat. You tried so hard to keep him happy until it came at the cost of losing yourself entirely. You didn’t recognize yourself anymore. 

“What can I do right now?” Joel asked, his voice swimming upstream against the thoughts that drowned you. “D’you wanna take a shower and sleep? Sarah’s at a sleepover tonight, so I ain’t got nowhere to be but here with you.”

You exhaled a heavy sigh, nodding your head at his offer. Joel unwound his limbs from yours, pulling you to your aching legs and letting you take the lead toward your ensuite. With a shaky hand, you flicked on the lights, your eyes squinting to adjust to the harshness of color that washed over the room. A quick look in the mirror told you everything you needed to know; you were thoroughly fucked and completely strung out. Your hair was a tangled mess hanging over your shoulders, your lips fuller and swollen from kissing, yet your eyes were hollow and glossy. Joel’s tall frame came into view behind you, his tanned arms snaking around your middle and tugging you back against his chest. Through the mirrored reflection, he held your gaze with an unwavering kindness that tore through every self-deprecating voice in your head. With his hand splayed over the expanse of your stomach, Joel dipped his head lower, his mouth hot against your ear. 

“Look how beautiful y’are, baby,” he praised. 

“Joel,” you whimpered, clenching your thighs together to quell the slow ache pulsating inside you again. 

You wanted so badly to see what he saw, but all you saw was the lingering handprints of the past plastered over your skin. The places Bennett had touched and kissed before, the echoed arguments that deafened your ears, every inch of you was left tainted. They say it takes the body seven years to replace its cells—seven years to be a new person from the inside out. You were hardly on the cusp of three years since Bennett last touched you, but you desperately wanted to be shed of every fiber that still clung to his memory. You couldn’t speed up the process; it was out of your control, but Joel touched you like he sought to do it himself. Inch by inch, your body would forget Bennett’s touch. It was your heart that needed to follow the same path. 

Joel’s deep voice whispering your name roused you from your thoughts, and your eyes snapped up to meet his through the mirrored reflection. Everything fell away, and you lost yourself again in the simplicity of being in the moment with him. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he urged, his hand coming down to palm your ass before delivering a light slap. 

You let out a startled laugh, forcing your legs to move and start up a warm shower. The second you both stepped under the blazing warmth of the spray, Joel had you pinned to the wall. You yelped at the startling cold of the tiles that pressed into your spine, but Joel’s hungry mouth swallowed every noise you made. Droplets of water fell off his damp curls, settling on your open mouth as he intertwined his tongue with yours. 

“C’mere,” he whispered, tugging you back under the pelting rain of the showerhead. 

You leaned your head back under the water, letting the water rush over your skin and drench your hair. Joel’s fingers twisted their way up the wet tendrils, gingerly massaging your scalp until a satisfied moan escaped your lips. He worked at lathering shampoo into your hair, scraping his nails across your scalp with each drag of his fingers. 

“This feels nice,” you muttered, your voice lost in the downpour of water above you. 

The resounding hum from Joel’s chest was all you heard as he washed your hair, his hands never leaving your body, even after the suds began to float down the drain. You lifted yourself on your toes to bring your mouth to his, not trusting yourself with words. For once in your life, you were speechless.

Time slipped away, and it wasn’t until you noticed your fingertips had pruned and the water ran cold that Joel finally tugged you out of the shower. You searched for two towels in your cabinets, watching as his hands worked the fabric over the low taper of his hips. Water droplets clung to the dark hair covering his chest, the muscles of his torso rising and falling with each breath. Your eyes wandered up to his face and settled on the natural upturn of his lips. You tried to fight the smile forming on your lips, but denying the emotions spreading through your body was practically impossible. 

You were happy. 

“I don’t like when you’re this quiet,” Joel chuckled softly. “I’m so used to you talkin’ or arguin’ with me.”

You blinked up at him, watching the crease form between his brows. It was the first time someone had an issue with you being quiet. 

“I’m sorry,” you said. It was your default response to everything. You were sorry for talking too much; you were sorry for not talking enough… you were just sorry. 

Joel’s hands came up to cup your face, leaving you with no choice but to look into his tired eyes. 

“I hate that you always say that,” he confessed. “I’m gonna make sure y’learn not to always say 'sorry'.”

“You’re gonna teach the teacher?” You lifted a brow. 

He chuckled and lifted his lips to press a gentle kiss against your forehead. 

“There she is,” he muttered against your skin. “Now, c’mon. You tired me out, and I can’t sleep without hearin’ your voice.”

“Oh, really?” You teased, peering up at him.

“Yeah, really,” he smiled. “So, let’s get our asses in bed, and y’can talk my ear off ‘til we fall asleep.”

And that’s exactly what you did. Hidden under the sanctuary of your comforter and pulled tight against Joel’s chest, you talked until the hours grew late. You told him about your childhood and how you failed math in sixth grade. You told him about your rebellious teen years, divulging the horrendous stories of how you and Beth would sneak out to parties together. He asked about college, and you told him what you could without including Bennett in the story. Occasionally, he would chime in to ask another question, and the conversation would keep rolling, suspending you both in time as you remained wrapped up in one another's embrace. Every doubt had faded, but as your eyes drifted shut, you hoped your guard would start fading, too. 

Morning sunlight streamed through the blinds that fluttered against your bedroom window, drenching the room in the warm colors of sunrise. You burrowed deeper into Joel’s body, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat matching yours as he kept your back flush to his chest. His fingers flexed against your hips, tugging you closer—if that was even possible. 

“Mornin’, baby,” Joel said, his voice gravelly from sleep. 

“Good morning, Mr. Miller,” you yawned, shimming your body back against his, awarded with the hard press of his cock at the seam of your ass. 

“Oh, don’t start with that shit again,” he groaned, rolling you onto your back.

A laugh bubbled out of you as he framed you between two large arms. Craning your neck, you met his tired eyes and saw the laugh lines creasing the corners. This was how Joel looked in the morning, happy. With his curls untamed and that lopsided grin, he looked happy…with you. 

“I’m only teasing,” you laughed as his mouth worked its way down your neck.

“Fuckin’ better be,” he muttered in between each kiss. “I just got you sayin’ my name, so y’ better not take it back.”

“Oh, does me calling you Mr. Miller not turn you on?” You quipped.

“Trust me, baby, everything you do turns me on,” Joel growled.

“I don’t believe you.”

Joel’s mouth traveled down your chest, sucking marks into the skin of your breasts. You careened into his touch, moaning as his teeth grazed over a peaked nipple.

“When I saw you for that first time,” he started, his mouth still hot against your skin. “That fuckin’ dress you wore at the dance…I knew I was a goner. Looked so fuckin’ beautiful.”

“Yeah?” Your voice was ragged as he continued moving lower. 

“I still think about how you teased me at the bar,” he said. “It drove me crazy, I swear.”

He had your legs spread open now, his nose pressed into your inner thigh. Arousal pooled between your legs, and you stole a glance at Joel’s eyes, connecting your slick entrance. Even though he fucked you sore last night, your body was addicted, so devastatingly responsive to every word he said. 

“And when you yelled at me? Fuck, somethin’ about seeing you all riled up. You don’t know how many times I’ve thought ‘bout you with my hand around my cock. I can’t get enough of you, baby,” Joel whispered. 

“You’ve thought about me like that?” You exhaled. 

“Ain’t nothin’ professional ‘bout the way I think about you.”

“Keep talking, Joel,” you begged. You were drunk on his words, completely and utterly wasted on every admission he made.

“Thought ‘bout you spread out like this for me.” He flattened his tongue against your entrance, lapping at the juices leaking out of you. “Dreamt ‘bout how sweet you’d taste and how you’d look when you cum.” His eyes snapped up to meet yours, holding your focus as he repeated the motion with his tongue. “Y’taste better than I ever expected.”

“Fuck,” you groaned, your eyes rolling back.

Joel’s lips suctioned around your clit, his tongue flicking at the sensitive bud in a steady rhythm. You bucked against his mouth, chasing the orgasm that snaked its way through your stomach. He released you with a loud pop, his tongue tracing over your folds and dragging out the pleasure that swelled inside your core. He was teasing you, controlling your pleasure until it became tortuous. You cried out in frustration, bucking against his mouth, trying to find release. 

“Be patient for me, baby,” Joel whispered, ghosting his tongue over your clit again.

“Please, Joel,” you begged. Your fingers twisted into the bedsheets, your nails digging into the fabric to keep you grounded. 

Joel’s tongue teased your entrance, barely dipping into you—enough to make you curse under your breath. The longer he teased you, the stronger the need for release became. All you wanted was to fall apart, to feel the orgasm vibrate your nerves and relieve your heart from its erratic beating. You could hardly contain it any longer.

“I—I need…” You were blubbering nonsense, your thighs shaking around his head. 

“I know what ya’ need, baby. Just a lil’ bit more.”

Then he was assaulting you with his tongue, drawing circles over your throbbing clit until every muscle in your body tensed and trembled. Your vision blurred as everything rushed to the surface, your thighs squeezing around Joel’s head as the pleasure liquified inside you. You screamed out his name as your orgasm crescendoed and crashed hard. You clawed at the bed, your body seizing up with the final aftershocks rocking through you.

“I could do this for hours,” Joel hummed, nudging your throbbing clit with the tip of his nose.

You squirmed under him, trying to shove yourself up the bed and away from him. You were overstimulated and exhausted, your body still recovering from last night… and this. 

“What? Torture me?” You grumbled. 

Joel chuckled, smirking at you. He rolled onto his back, keeping his arm wrapped around your thigh. His finger massaged circles into the sore muscles, another groan leaving your lips. 

“Make you cum, baby,” Joel said. “Anythin’ you want, I’d do it.”

“How about you make me a coffee, Mr. Miller,” you sighed. “You’ve exhausted me.”

“And how do you like your coffee, Miss Smith?” He tossed back.

“Guess.”

Joel tilted his head back to look at you, his brown eyes glowing in the morning sun. He pursed his lips, studying you as he thought up an answer. 

“I’m guessin’ you like it strong,” he mused. “Maybe a lil’ dash of cream, but definitely no sugar.”

You let out an exaggerated gasp that turned into a fit of laughter. Joel raised an eyebrow at your response, rolling onto his stomach to watch you as you continued laughing. How did he read you so well? Even if it was just something as simple as coffee. 

“What’s so funny, huh?”

“It’s just crazy how well you know me, that’s all,” you giggled. 

“Wait, I guessed right?” He gaped. 

“Mhmm, right on the nose.”

“Well, c’mon, baby. Let’s get you that strong cup of coffee.” 

Joel tapped your leg before offering a hand to lift you from the bed. You scoured the floor for your underwear, finding them hidden under your nightstand alongside Joel’s boxers. With half your bodies clothed, you led Joel to the kitchen, the natural light reflecting off the marble countertops. It felt strange having someone in the house; you hadn’t brought anyone over since before Bennett left. You had grown so accustomed to your daily routine that including Joel in it felt unnatural…but also so normal. 

“Make yourself comfy,” Joel urged, motioning to the barstools at the end of the counter. 

You shimmed yourself onto the seat and watched him navigate around your kitchen. Your small pour-over sat in the corner beside the stove, which Joel quickly figured out. 

“Mugs?” He asked, glancing over his shoulder.

“Top right cabinet,” you said, pointing toward it.

Joel’s back muscles flexed as he reached to grab two mismatched mugs, and you leaned forward to watch him so relaxed in your home. His presence filled all the empty spaces you had hidden within the last two years. 

“I made coffee,” Bennett called from the kitchen.

You dragged yourself out of bed, wrapping a blanket around your shoulders as you shuffled down the hallway. The house smelt of coffee and pancakes, and the morning was off to a good start. After a late night of arguing, you hoped a shared breakfast together would at least minimize the hostility between the both of you. 

Bennett slid a mug across the counter, your hands wrapping around the hot ceramic and inhaling the steam that floated above the liquid. You muttered a soft ‘thank you’ before taking a sip, instantly scrunching your nose in disgust. 

“Did you put sugar in this?” You asked, setting the mug down.

Bennett shrugged, sipping from his mug, unphased by your complaint. His hair was messy from sleep, the blonde strands sticking up at odd angles. He had slept on the couch for the night, which clearly didn’t do him well. 

“You always have sugar in your coffee,” he glared at you. 

“Bennett, when have you ever seen me put sugar in my coffee?” 

“I don’t know,” he huffed. “Figured you liked it. Don’t all girls like sugar in their coffee?”

You scoffed at his words, shoving away from the counter and slipping off the barstool. Gripping the blanket tighter around your shoulders, you sulked into the living room, dropping yourself on the couch cushions.

“Here we go again,” Bennett grumbled, loud enough for you to hear.

Whipping your head back toward the kitchen, you jabbed a finger at him, a scowl twisting your lips upwards. 

“Don’t you dare,” you warned. 

“For fucks sake, it’s just coffee!” He yelled. 

“It’s not just coffee,” you argued. “It’s you not knowing anything about me. It’s you not paying attention to me!”

Bennett slammed his mug onto the counter, rattling the ceramic. You jolted at the sound, shrinking further into the couch. 

“I’m so sick and tired of hearing you bitch all the fucking time,” he snapped. “You always have something to complain about. Who cares if there’s sugar in it? I was trying to do something nice, but now you’re turning it into an argument. Like you always do. I can never do anything right, huh? It’s always my fault.”

His words were like a slap in the face, a knife to the open wound still bleeding from last night. You and Bennett had gone to dinner together, and he spent half the night complaining about work, never once letting you speak. When you tried explaining that you wanted to enjoy a nice dinner without discussing work, he unleashed a speech about how you were never happy with anything. The argument followed you home until you were both in a screaming match and eventually retiring separately for sleep—you in an empty bed and him on the couch. All you had wanted was a nice date night together, and it ended as it always did: you alone. 

“I just wish you’d pay attention to me,” you muttered. 

“Because everything is always about you, right? You’ve got to make everything about you. You can’t just say ‘thank you’ and move on.”

You sucked in a breath, trying to keep your anger at bay. Arguing with him was a losing battle; he would never admit his faults, even if it were something as simple as this. You were too exhausted to fight, so you only nodded and rewarded him with a tightlipped smile. 

“Thank you for making coffee. I’m sorry for getting upset.”

Bennett rolled his eyes, dumping his coffee in the sink. 

“Whatever. I gotta get ready for work.”

Then he was disappearing down the hall, slamming the door shut hard enough to knock a picture frame off the walls. You jumped at the sound and let the tears quietly fall as you sat in heavy silence. 

“You alright?” Joel’s voice echoed around you. 

You blinked rapidly, shoving down the memories and returning to the present. Joel had a hand extended to you, the mug piping hot and billowing with steam. You took it carefully, blowing on it before you took a cautious sip. Perfect. It was perfect, and it twisted something unpleasant inside you. 

“I’m fine,” you lied, setting the mug down. You mindlessly traced circles around the brim, watching the bubbles around the edges pop against the heat. 

“Am I that bad at makin’ coffee?” He frowned, leaning against your fridge. 

“No, it’s perfect. Thank you.”

“You’re thinkin’ about somethin’, huh?”

“Stop doing that,” you whispered, adverting your gaze toward the sliding doors leading to your backyard. 

“Doin’ what?”

“Seeing right through me.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught Joel moving through the kitchen, rounding the counter to stand in front of you. With a gentle hand under your chin, he drew your attention his way, a deep furrow between his brows. 

“You wear your emotions on your face,” he said. “I can tell when you’re upset ‘bout something.”

“We don’t need to talk about it,” you sighed. 

You didn’t like seeing Joel’s lips downturned; you missed the grin typically plastered on his face. You felt guilty for being the reason he looked so upset, and your knee-jerk apology was on the tip of your tongue. Joel bent down to kiss your forehead, his lips lingering an extra moment before he pulled away. 

“What if I wanna talk about it?” He asked.

“I don’t think you do,” you laughed bitterly. 

Joel crowded you, stepping into the space between your legs. You were at eye level with his chest, counting the constellations of freckles hidden under the hair covering his torso. You’d rather marvel over his broad frame than discuss the painful memories of your past. You didn’t want to ruin this moment together. 

“It’s okay,” you insisted. 

“Don’t shy away from me, baby. Y’can talk to me ‘bout anything.”

You hesitated a moment. Joel had you spread open on your bed only minutes ago, and now the topic of your past was about to be the morning discussion. You didn’t want to talk about Bennett after an amazing night together, but if you knew anything about Joel, he wasn’t letting you off the hook that easily. He always wanted to know more.

“You’re just different from what I’m used to,” you started. “Bennett, my ex, wasn’t like you. He didn’t pay attention to me the way you do.”

Something flashed over Joel’s eyes, a sudden flicker of anger as you spoke about Bennett. He gave you a moment to collect yourself before you continued. 

“We were together for five years, and he didn’t even know how I liked my coffee,” you scoffed. “And you guessed it in two seconds. Two seconds, Joel. I don’t understand how you do that.”

“Do what, baby?”

“Pay attention. You notice all these stupid, little things about me and make it seem so easy.”

Joel cupped your face in his large hands, his thumbs rubbing over your cheekbones. You leaned into him, letting his touch ground you while your eyes fluttered shut. 

“I pay attention ‘cause I wanna know everything about you. Every single lil’ thing. That’s what it’s supposed to be like in a relationship, baby. Y’learn everything about the other person, and you remember it. From what you’ve hinted ‘bout before, I take it this Bennett guy was a real piece of shit.”

“Yeah, that’s what everyone has told me.”

“Am I wrong, though?” Joel pressed.

“No,” you confessed. “He did treat me like shit. I wasn’t allowed to speak up for myself, or he got mad. He liked it when I was submissive and quiet, so that’s what I became.”

Joel’s fingers flexed against your face, his jaw clenching at every new admission. You had never admitted those things aloud, that Bennett forced you into this tiny box, making you become the perfect, obedient girlfriend. With an engagement ring on your finger, you were even more inclined to be whatever he wanted, just to know he wanted to marry you. Looking back, maybe the ring was less of a testament to his love and more of a muzzle on your outspokenness. Someone wanted to marry you, so that should make you quiet, right? 

“I don’t want you quiet,” Joel whispered, pressing his forehead to yours. “I want you to be yourself in every way.”

“I don’t know who I am anymore, Joel. I haven’t been that girl in years.” 

Tears were spilling over your cheeks, soaking Joel’s fingers that still gripped your face. Why did you cry so much around him? You hated how emotional you were; you hated feeling weak and small. You couldn’t get through one fucking interaction with Joel without ending up a mess. Did Bennett ruin you entirely? 

“I’m sorry,” you cried quietly. “You probably need to leave soon, huh? You said Sarah’s at a sleepover, so I’m sure you gotta go get her and—.”

Joel tugged you forward, fusing his lips with yours. The taste of coffee and sleep lingered on his tongue as he coaxed your mouth open, and you welcomed him without hesitation. He kissed you slowly, with deliberate determination. You responded the same, letting yourself grow limp in his arms.

Breaking away, Joel leveled you with a stern stare that didn’t quite reach his lips since they twitched into a smile.

“I’m gonna kiss you every time you apologize just to shut ya’ up,” he said.

“That doesn’t sound like a threat, Joel,” you smirked. “I’ll just apologize more.”

“Then I’ll figure out some other punishment.”

Your thighs clenched at his words, and your mind wandered to all the possibilities of what he could do. You hadn’t lied to him when you said you didn’t always like things ‘vanilla,’ but you hadn’t really dipped your toes into that area yet. You’d willingly explore it with him because if last night proved anything, it was that you trusted him more than anyone. He could do anything to you, and you knew you’d be safe.

“Got a dirty lil’ mind, huh?” Joel’s voice dropped lower.

“Oh, shut up.” You playfully shoved at his chest, shimming yourself off the barstool. 

Joel wrapped a hand around your wrist, pulling you back into his arms. 

“I’m serious, though, baby. It fuckin’ kills me to see you cry. I’m gonna fix that.”

“You don’t have to, Joel. I’ll be okay. I’ll work on it.”

“We are gonna work on it,” he corrected.

You swallowed thickly and nodded. You were in uncharted territory with him, afraid of the future but willing to see where it would go. You had fought against it for almost two months now, and you were tired of fighting. You’d take things slow and test the waters with him… and hope you wouldn’t come out the other side with a shattered heart.

After cleaning up the flower petals left in the entryway and redressing, you finally urged Joel to go home. It was mid-afternoon, and you knew Sarah would want time with her dad. You couldn’t selfishly keep him to yourself, but he made it very known how badly he wanted to stay. With his flannel in his hand and his hair slightly tamed, Joel lingered by the door, reluctant to leave. You had shrugged on a robe while he had dressed, already dreaming about the long bath you’d take when he left. Your muscles were screaming for release after last night and this morning.

“Y’sure I can’t stay a bit longer?” Joel pouted, his lips pushed out as he glanced at you.

You laughed at his demeanor, enjoying the playfulness he always exuded. You wanted to learn how to be like that, to shed the walls built up around you.

“Sarah’s going to want to spend the day with you,” you said. “We can plan another date soon.”

“Or…” Joel wagged his brows. “I could come back tonight.”

“Oh my god,” you laughed, rolling your eyes. “Go home, Mr. Miller, before I kick you out.”

Joel tugged the belt wrapped around your waist, hauling you closer until you were bumping into his chest. Dipping his head, he pressed a soft kiss against your lips. You could feel the smile forming on his lips as you nipped at his bottom lip.

“Have a good day, baby,” he grinned. “I’ll call ya’ tonight.”

“I’ll be waiting,” you exhaled.

You watched Joel until he got to his truck, his grin shining bright under the afternoon's clear skies. You waved at him as he drove off and closed your door with a heavy sigh. You needed to find your phone and make a very important phone call.

“You had sex with him, huh?” Beth asked, the phone barely reaching the second ring before she picked up.

You flopped onto the couch, your head hitting the cushions with a soft thud. 

“I did,” you groaned.

“And?” She pressed.

“It was fucking amazing, Beth. I’m so screwed.”

“Why? Isn’t this a good thing? You finally hooked up!”

You grabbed a pillow to slap over your face, muffling a frustrated scream so that Beth wouldn’t hear.

“I’m scared, Beth.”

“Scared of falling in love?” Beth asked.

“Scared of getting hurt,” you sighed. 

Beth was quiet for a moment, exhaling before gathering her thoughts and speaking her mind. 

“You can’t let your past get in the way of this, sis,” she started. “Joel sounds like an amazing man, and he’s night and day different from Bennett. I get you’re scared of getting hurt, but I seriously doubt he would do anything to hurt you. Let him in, sis. Let him love you the way you deserve.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, trying to reel in the tears… again. Beth was right, like always, but it didn’t make these feelings easier to battle. There was so much to lose.

“It’s obvious he likes me already, but I’m such a fucking mess. I—I feel so broken, still. What if he gets tired of me? What if he never feels anything more than this?”

“I think he’s already falling in love with you, sis.”

#joel miller x reader #joel x reader #joel x f!reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x teacher!f!reader #joel miller #joel miller fanfic #joel miller smut #joel tlou #tlou #joel miller pre outbreak #pre outbreak!joel #joel is the fluffiest man alive #so much fluff it's disgusting

[harryleatherfit]

Upper East Side || A.U

Frankie Morales

Chapter 7: Call

word count: 2823

warnings: smut, mentions of p and v sex, mentions of squirting, mentions of abuse, emotionally abusive mom, mentions of calorie counting, mentions of disowning, horrible daughter mother relationship, mentions of abusive dad, let me know if i’ve missed any

rating: mature, 18+

Laylah uses they/them pronouns btw!

🪩Main Master List🪩 Series Master List🪩

———

Frankie POV-

She’s my girl. He thought.

Frankie was stretched out on his king sized bed, in his lonely brownstone. All the possibilities that were in the back of his head came true. He finally got to kiss you. His body was on fire with you in that bathroom. He brought his fingers to his swollen lips, remembering the crevices of your lips, reminiscing on your smell.

After the bathroom together, you both walked out of the crowd lingering in the back where no one could know who you two were. It was magical. The sensual club made you both feel alive, your bodies moving together, in rhythm never failing to fall apart. Kissing so much- the language your lips spoke was fluid love.

Is this love, what the fuck is this?

Frankie rethought the whole night to himself. He vowed he would never say the love word, ever fucking again.

This is a quick, short lived thing. Just fun. Love is complicated.

His last girlfriend left him with no notice, he came home one day and she was completely gone. Blocked on every social media, a note saying “you were too easy.”

That took Frankie years to recover from, he had given his all into his relationship with his ex, he started himself over again. To finally be left in the end and having to start from square one.

But he eventually learned that quick fucks here and there would do the trick, he didn’t need the emotional attachment, and his job kept him busy most of the time.

But he felt different about you. You gave him that jumpstart to his heart. Something he hasn’t felt since childhood. He’d been alone his entire life, he didn't know what love is, but when your eyes connect it feels like the walls of his heart are repairing themselves.

The more he thought about your body, the way you felt on his fingers, the walls of your pussy enclosing every time he spoke appraisal towards you.

He snaked his hand to move his pants down to his thighs, along with boxers. Finally letting his cock free from entrapment.

He hissed when the cold draft of his room met the skin of his dick, still so raw from being hard with you.

He picures you by his side, propping yourself on his thighs, rubbing your pussy lips back and forth on the head of his cock. Your pussy so perfect, always so ready for him. He loved that you weren’t fully shaved. It made him feel like he was with a real women and made him want to fuck you more. He hated how women were so ashamed of body hair, it’s natural and nothing to hide. He loved that you opened up to him after being so shy, he embellished in the feeling of you being so comfortable around him. Eating your pussy out was a next level of heaven for Frankie, your hairs brisking against his jaw. Making everything ten times more erotic. He dreamt of your first time together.

“Fuck baby you’re so slick for me. Every damn time, this pussy could quench the whole Sahara desert. Does my cock make this much of a mess from this plump pussy?”

“Frankie, fucking slip it in already I won’t say it twice. Please I’ll be such a good girl. I promise.”

“I guess a good girl knows what she wants? You think you’ve earned my cock?” He asks, and immediately slips in his throbbing cock inside your cunt. He could imagine the feeling of your warm pussy eveloping his dick immediately, accepting its invitation.

He couldn’t last for much longer, the thought of you bouncing on his cock, squirming every time he thrusted into you, you screaming bloody murder, that's how good he would make you feel.

And finally, the thought of you squirting all over his cock and soaking his bush immediately made white spurts of cum shoot out and cover his hand.

“Fuck, fuck fuck baby. Shittttt.” He had to catch his breath, he was so delirious on the thought of you, his orgasm fully took the life out of him.

He felt sexed out, but he needed you, not just for sex. Not how biologically men usually need women. Men only see women as objects and sex toys, and the times he fucked around, he felt bad. He felt like he was a part of the problem, but he would do anything to be better for you. He needs you to breathe, you light his soul on fire. He can see the passion in your eyes, and he knows he will do anything to earn it.

-----

You got home and immediately fell asleep, the sleep crash you got after being high taxed your body. Waking up foggy but still remembering every moment with him.

Your body felt so relaxed after being with Frankie. You never had a man touch you like that before, and you couldn’t believe how much he enjoyed himself. The whole night you thought your eyes were mistaking themselves.

But no matter what, he always made your heart jump a beat when he spoke. And you get to see him again today.

You notice that Laylah is already gone and note on your night stand saying

“Sleep in, I have coffee waiting for you at rehearsal. Last night was interesting. xo.”

Shit. A lead being late for the first rehearsal would not be okay.

You pack your shit together, along with some snacks to tie you over for the day, you look messy and dead in the mirror.

Perfect

“It’ll be okay.” You look in the mirror. You walk out the door and speed to the arts center. Seeing Frankie is your main motivation for the day.

-----

You walk through the school building and find the entrance to the theater, opening the door to find the whole company sitting at tables. Double-shit. On time apparently, is late.

Everyone looks towards you, murmurs abrupt into a never abyss. You’ll never understand this damned school. You find Laylah sitting in the far corner, and as you advance towards her you can hear someone walking behind you. Frankie.

He just walked down from the booth, perfect timing as fucking always.

His presence behind you made your body jolt, your insides churn with desire.

You can’t read his expression, his eyes and mouth are always downturned. You can’t tell if he’s happy or not, he stops abruptly next to you, “Your neck looks colorful, huh?” He whispers, looking in his peripheral.

Shit, you didn’t even bother to wear anything to cover your chest or neck, Frankies hickeys littered your entire upper half but no one knew that. And he just walks past you, taking a seat next to all the directors.

You closely follow taking a seat next to Laylah, you see Nina in the back taking coffee and food orders. Of course she’s sucking up, she’d do anything to assist or be a little pet. Her dad could get her anything at this school.

“All okay?” Laylah asks in a whisper, “You look a little, well, just a little tired and a little bruised.” She laughs.

“Yeah, I'm tired .” The last thing you need is for them to find out you had sex with Frankie. “Can’t believe she’s here.”

“Yeah don't pay attention to her, she’ll see we have coffee and she won’t even come up to us. Here, let me just wipe off your mascara.” She licks her thumb and cleans your eyes.

This is what you revelish in, the simplicity and purity of two humans taking each other. Laylah always took care of you.

“Okay people, first rehearsal.” Ms Roylance begins, “We have Mr. Morales here for his tech team, Mr. Garcia, and Mr. Davis for help. Today may be a long day, so plan accordingly and we’ll break at 4 for an early dinner.”

Nothing you’re not used to.

“I’ll first talk with the lighting team, then props and set design, costumes, makeup, and videography. Check your emails, I already sent out the itinerary for today.” Frankie stands up, walking around the group. You have the perfect sight of him, but you don’t dare trying to meet his eyes. The closest you challenge yourself is the zipper on his jacket. He doesn't deserve anything more.

“First actors, we’ll start with working on intimacy for Lady Mac and Mac. I’m sure this won’t be an issue for you two.” She catches your eyes.

You nod toward Mattias and smile, remembering your in class scene with him, and how easy it came to you both. This pairing made sense.

“And from there we’ll work with some King Duncan scenes. I’d expect us to get out a little after our dinner break but no later than 7! Costuming and make-up I expect you all to go heavy today.”

Groans were heard from the room.

“Hey!” Frankie shouts. “You all signed up for this, we don’t choose the hours, this is what it takes to put a show on broadway in a couple months. We know you all have classes here, we know you have jobs. If you give us respect, we’ll give you respect.”

The more he talked, the more you were turned on. He’s so stern with his words. His tough love made you want him more.

“That being said, it's hard start in 5 minutes.” Roylance closes off.

-------

“Ok Matias, I want you to just hold her cheek a little closer, just to make the audience want more from you two.”

You’ve been working on this scene for a few hours now. Correcting and implementing notes.

“Is it okay if I move a little downstairs to get to him before this?” You ask Roylance.

“Sure, do what you like, note that ASM’s.”

The stage managers and carpentry crew were working all around the actors and the theater was bustling with urban life. You felt immersed in this world.

Matias is so close to you, you both are sharing the same air to breathe.

“Is this okay?” He asks, “Are you comfortable?”

“Yeah you’re fine, and during the show I don’t care how you touch me, whatever makes it look the most real.”

“Testing, testing 1,2.” Frankie calls over the god mike.

You look up to him and he’s glaring at you. Hand over his chin and licking his lips.

Jealous?

Matias is still holding you, so you get closer to him going along with your characters dialogue and notes from Ms. Roylance. Hoping that Frankie is watching your every move, what was he gonna do?

You rub circles on Matias’s shoulder and double take to Frankie, he’s standing now. Hunched over in the booth and you chuckle.

Your phone starts to buzz in your pocket, you search for it, the lit up screen…

“Mom?” Why the hell would she be calling you?

“Um Ms. Roylance, I’m so sorry for this, may I excuse myself, I have to take this phone call I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“Oh no it’s okay we should break for dinner anyways.” She puts her hands around her mouth, “Company, hour dinner break be back at 5 sharp.”

You run off into a secret hallway in the back of the auditorium, “Hello?”

“Is this my daughter?” She seethes through the receiver.

“Yeah, this is her.” You scoff.

“Why the fuck did you not tell me you were leaving UNCSA to go to NYU, you know that 10x the amount, how the hell are you going to pay for that?”

“Well Alyssa, after I left for college I believe we served ties and you didn’t seem to give a shit that I left. You didn’t pay for UNCSA, I did so I always find a way to pay for college.”

“No sweetie, you wanted to leave like a little brat and you didn’t want to follow my rules. You wanted to eat whatever you wanted, you wanted to stay out all hours of the night, you wanted to engage in illegal activities, you wanted to whore around and I bet that’s how you pay for college. You chose to leave.”

You couldn’t believe that 3 years later she still fucking cares how you go on about your life. “ I understand that I turned 18 and I tried things that you weren't a fan of. And as a teenager I was disrespectful, but listen here, you will never ever get to terrorize me again. You sheltered me my entire life, you were the one that gave me an eating disorder, you bullied me from a young age. You couldn't control your own life, so you controlled mine. Dad left you because of that. You are your own fucking fault. No amount of your manipulation will make me feel bad for you.

“You’re a disrespectful little shit that doesn't know her manners, I’m glad I disowned you. You aren’t my daughter. The day you stopped counting your calories was when I stopped loving you. You aren’t going to make it in the acting world-

“Well fucking watch me bitch.” You yell through the phone and hang up.

Tears are streaming down your face and you pray no one could hear you. Your mothers voice could be practically heard around the world when she would yell at you. Your screaming matches growing up got the cops called once or twice.

What was her purpose of calling you? Just because you left the state doesn’t mean anything to her. She called once or twice when you were in Winston- Salem, just to see if you had booked anything or to see how your grades were, but she knew you would never come home again. There was no reason to. Your dad was abusive growing up, and when he finally left you were left with your emotionally abusive mother, there was no want to go back to a dead childhood.

There were days you missed your mom, the days where you felt like a little girl and not a full grown adult at the age 10, but that was rare.

You stand up and step out the hallway, the theater is empty, you grab your things and decide to head to the booth. It would be an easier place to annotate your script in peace and cry. No matter how much you didn’t care about your mom, she always could find this crevice in your body that would make you cry for hours uncontrollably. You had an hour of peace.

You walk up into the booth, “Shit stick, what's wrong? I tried looking for you.” Laylah was sitting in a chair in front of the lighting board and this techie guy was sitting next to her.

“Oh hi um, sorry I don’t mean to intrude, you probably don’t want to hear this.” You say toward the man.

“Oh no problem, I have no one to tell, you can say anything I don’t mind.” He utters.

“Yeah babe, don’t mind him. Seriously you can talk, it's safe here. I saw Nina walk out 10 minutes ago, what's on your mind?”

You wish you could talk about Frankie, but that's far from voicing to anyone, even your best friend and her random man friend. So your mom it is.

“My mom called.”

“Shit, what’d she have to say?”

You start to break, “Well she was aksing about UNCSA, and NYU and then she went into just her manipulative shit as always and-” Snot drips down your face, “Fuck” You wipe, “She just has this way of always reminding me of how I was such a shitty daughter and she will never let down my childhood, I’m sick and fucking tired of her.”

“Hug?” Laylah asks with her arms out.

You embrace her and stay there for a while. “Can I hug too?” The man asks.

“Bring it in” You voice with a smile.

“This is Bryce, by the way. We have a class together and he does lighting for the show. We got your coffee together this morning.” Laylah reveals.

“Well hello special man,” You give your hand to shake his,”Ever so pleased to meet you.”

“And you.” He laughs.

“Well thank you for this, I can sit in the corner, I was gonna just annotate my script and put in my headphones so you guys can get back to business.” You wink.

“We're about to leave to get Boba, but you have your fun with your script date!”

“I’ll tell you all about it tonight.” You yell after them.

If Laylah dates Bryce, you’d be happy. He looks like a good fellow? Fuck what were guys your age that are nice supposed to look like? He looked fine, you’re glad Laylah is exploring.

You get your pens and markers out and dive into the world of Macbeth, expecting the next 50 minutes to be a world of disaster.

——

previous || next

authors note: this is kinda a filler and shorter.. and i haven’t read through it for mistakes…..BUT i’m out of school and i have so much time to write, and i have many chapters planned 🙋🏻‍♀️🙋🏻‍♀️🙋🏻‍♀️

#frankie morales #pedro pascal #pedro pascal hot #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfics #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales fanfics #frankie morales x you #pedro pascal au #pedro pascal fandom #fanfiction #teacher x reader #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales au #frankie morales x reader #joel miller #musical theatre #upper east side #new york city #acting au #acting fanfiction #triple frontier #NYC #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal daddy #pedro pascal x you #pedrito #mando #tlou #jose pedro balmaceda pascal

[hopplessilse]

Fetish II. Eyes don´t lie

Teacher!joel x f!student 18+ explicit minors dni

Serie masterlist

Summary: Mr. Miller gives you more attention than ever, you are his priority, you want to become his favorite student, so a visit to his office doesn't hurt anyone, you just want him to help you solve the topic of your thesis.

Word count: 9.5 k

Warnings: Teacher-student, age gab (reader in her early 20's, joel in his late 40's) pet names, sexual fantasies, flirtation, slow burn (not so slow), Feeling of guilt, Mention and consumption of alcohol, hangover, Mention on teacher/student relationship, Swallowing medicine pills, Mention of vomiting (nothing explicit), Professor Miller's Aftercare, they are both two consenting adults, fear of being found out.

Friday.

"Good day, students. Today we're going to talk about two branches of anthropology that are very important for understanding human nature: physiological anthropology and pragmatic anthropology," Joel said, walking in front of the class and writing the title on the board.

It was a fact that that crush was now an obsession, you didn't know how to get Joel out of your head, you couldn't help but romanticize every single thing he did or said, you beat yourself up mentally for sexualizing him, but it was kind of impossible to stop when the clothes he wore fit him ridiculously well, it was impossible for him to look attractive with everything. The vest he wore over his white shirt was ridiculously hot, you never imagined him with a vest and now, you can't get the image out of your head.

"First of all, physiological anthropology" He paused, looking at everyone in the room

"Physiological anthropology is the branch of anthropology that studies the biological dimension of the human being. It deals with the physical and psychological characteristics that are common to all human beings, regardless of their culture or era"

You could feel your body present, but your head was somewhere else, thinking about so many things that have nothing to do with matter

"Some of the topics that physiological anthropology studies are:

|Human Anatomy

|Human Physiology

|Human Psychology

|Human Evolution"

His gaze passed over your seat, several times, but you didn't realize it because you were so gone that you didn't know what he was talking about, you only saw his lips move, the pen around his fingers as he wrote on the blackboard what you assumed were subtopics, the truth is that you don't even know.

From Joel's perspective he assumed you were paying attention, as you saw him with furrowed brows and followed his steps, but the moment he stared at you, saw how your eyes were gone, he could perceive that you were not quite present in the class.

"Physiological anthropology helps us understand how the human body works, how we think and feel, and how we have evolved as a species" He finally says, adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose, arms crossed as he walks back in front of the class, looking at everyone as he continues to explain.

"Now Pragmatic Anthropology is the branch of anthropology that studies the cultural dimension of the human being. It deals with human characteristics that are a product of culture, such as values, beliefs, customs, and social norms.

Some of the topics that pragmatic anthropology studies are:

|Culture

|The Society

|Education

|Religion

|The Art

Pragmatic anthropology helps us understand how human society is constructed, how values and beliefs are transmitted, and how emotions and feelings are expressed" He paused, took a breath, and asked, looking at the whole class

"Could any of you tell me what's the difference between the two?" he look at the blackboard and look at them again, some whispered some answers but with the fear of making a mistake they said nothing.

"Miss" he said your last name 1 time, you didn't listen, you just saw that his eyes were glued to you, he named you for the second time and your friend nudged you. At that moment you felt your body for the first time since he entered the room, a shiver ran down your spine, while you saw your friend.

She just made a gesture to you with her eyes open, you know she scolded you mentally. You looked back at Joel and he was arms crossed 'shit in that pose yes he looks bigger and stronger, concentrate' looking at you over his glasses, his lips were sealed and his expression was serious as he watched you, you could feel all the eyes on you waiting for your answer.

"Sorry?" You apologized by looking down and looking at him again "I didn't hear the question" You interlaced your fingers in your lap nervously as you mentally begged him not to humiliate you.

"i ask who knows the difference between the two topics we just talked about" He looked at you as he got closer so he could get a better look at you since you were in the third row, a little out of reach.

"I… I don't know," you said nervously, shaking your head softly

You saw him duck his head as a sarcastic laugh came from his lips, shaking his head, walking up the stairs, walking down the hallway that left him in front of you and looking into your eyes, you could see disappointment in them.

"Of course you don't know, you didn't pay attention to a single word that was said" he said seriously, his words hurt you, and more because everyone listened while looking at you

"if you are in my class it is to learn, I don't stand here every day so that the words go in one ear and out the other" this time he said to everyone, his voice sounding deeper as he walked away from you and down the stairs returning to the center

A silence covered the room for a few seconds when a squeaky female voice made itself present, you shrugged your shoulders as you felt your ears bleed at the sound of that voice.

"Go ahead, Miss Vince," this time Joel's voice sounded calmer and softer

"The main difference between physiological anthropology and pragmatic anthropology is that the first deals with human characteristics that are common to all human beings, while the second deals with human characteristics that are a product of culture"

"That's right, as clear as water" He looked at you and you just looked down at your lap where your cold hands were hiding.

"Physiological anthropology is more objective, as it is based on observation and experimentation. Pragmatic anthropology, on the other hand, is more subjective, as it is based on the interpretation of cultural phenomena" He said, going back to the blackboard and writing the key words on it.

You felt so small, you felt a lump in your throat, you felt an anger inside you, you tried to control your heavy breathing. You looked at your hands and you could see and feel the waterline in your eyes fill with tears, you didn't want to cry, not in front of them, not in front of him, you didn't want him to see the power he had over you. You took a deep breath, wiping your eyes quickly, as you looked straight ahead and made a note in your notebook.

"In conclusion, physiological anthropology and pragmatic anthropology are two fundamental branches of anthropology since they help us to understand human nature in all its complexity, both in its biological dimension and in its cultural dimension"

The rest of the class went on normally, you just didn't look at him, you just listened and looked at the blackboard to make notes of what he wrote. You were quiet for the rest of the class, even when roll call you just raised your hand, at the end he just let them read a file that he would send them.

You left the room without even looking at him and hurried out. It was 6:30 a.m., with Mr. Miller's class being the last. Even though you had an appointment with the student counselor, that's why you had to run since she was leaving early.

"Where are you going?" shouted your friend seeing you hurrying down the hallway

"I have to catch up with ava, I need to talk to her" you yelled back saying goodbye with your hand in the air and disappearing around the corner.

Being true you wanted to get out of that room as soon as possible, you couldn't stand the presence of everyone around you, let alone his presence, you really felt hurt, you knew he was right, you weren't paying attention, but it wasn't necessary for him to talk to you in that hurtful tone, it was the first time you saw him angry, And you're the reason.

Your high heels echoed off the shiny floor of the school as you walked down the stairs, walked a few doors along the hallway into one that said 'teachers' office'. Past the doors you could see a long corridor that led you into the offices, several Victorian-style windows and within the space were scattered the offices of each director of the school.

You walked to the right where the office of ava, the student counselor, a beautiful lady who had been working at the university for 10 years. You knocked a couple of times on the wooden door and from inside you heard 'come in'.

You walked in closing the door behind you and when you met her gaze you gave her a smile.

"Hello" she said your name "Good afternoon, how are you?" she said in an enthusiastic voice, whenever you saw her she looked happy, you didn't know how she could be in a good mood being locked in those 4 walls.

"hi, Well thank you, how are you?"

"Oh, I'm fine honey, tell me what brings you here," she said, adjusting her glasses and leaving some sheets beside her.

You sat in the chair in front of her desk and left your backpack on the floor

"Well… I wanted to talk to you about my thesis topic"

"Okay… How can I help you?"she crossed her hands in front of her at the desk.

"I thought maybe you could… Or well, I know you studied psychology, right?"

"That's right," she nodded, taking a sip of her coffee

"Well, my thesis talks about transpersonal anthropology, and I know there's a topic in psychology about that, and I wanted to know if you could give me some important points about that, or your knowledge in it," you said kindly giving her a smile

"Of course honey, it's just a long topic and I have to run home, so how about Monday you come and we talk about it."

"Sounds great"

"How about 2 p.m.?"

"Yes, I'm free at that time"

"Perfect" A knock interrupted your talk, Ava gave way and a head peeked out of the door

"I'm sorry to interrupt Ava, but Professor Miller came looking for you a while ago and asked me if you could stop by his office for a moment before you left"

"Of course, thank you for letting me know" they closed the door and you and Ava got up from their chairs "What subject does Professor Miller give you?" she said as she took her things and put them in her bag

"Mmh philosophical anthropology" you bent down taking your backpack and passing it over your shoulder

"It would be very good for you to talk to him about your thesis, He knows more than I do because he reads a lot about the different branches of anthropology."

"Amm I hadn't thought of it" you said showing a forced smile as you followed her to the door, she opened and gave you space to go after her, she locked the door and looked at you

"Come with me, we'll tell Professor Miller if he knows about it" she said as she walked past you, you stood with the word in your mouth

"Amm… No.. I don't think he have time" You couldn't help but get nervous as you walked down the hallway to his office, this being one of the last at the end of the hallway

"Of course he has time, he's gone until 8," she said as she greeted the teachers who passed by you. "I love his office, it has a beautiful view of the forest behind campus" she look at you over her shoulder before knocking twice on the wooden door that said in black letters on the glass 'Mr. Miller'

"Come in," a deep voice rang out, sounded from inside through the door.

Ava came in first greeting Joel kindly. You stayed outside, you took a deep breath before peeking out of the doorway, making Joel aware of your presence, making the smile on her face slowly disappear as you entered and closed the door behind you, staying leaning into it looking at both of them.

Your breathing quickened a little more as your eyes met, you didn't want to be there, you didn't want to see him and you guess he didn't want to see you either. You looked at Ava and smiled nervously at her, clasping your hands behind you.

"We hope we don't interrupt Professor Miller" said Ava standing in front of his desk

"Not at all Ava, Amm" he look at you and look back at her "I wanted to tell you about the student outing that will be done at the end of the month" he said playing with the pen he had in his hands

"Of course of course, we must change some details about that...amm I have the itinerary in digital, If you want, I can send it to you and talk about it on Monday."

"Of course that would be wonderful" he nodded quickly and took a deep breath seeing the two of you with a tight smile on his lips

"Oh it's true haha" she walked over to you and took you by the shoulder approaching you to the desk, making you being closer right in front of him, she said your name "wanted to ask you if you have any knowledge about transpersonal psychology, It's for her thesis on transpersonal anthropology"

God, she looks like your mom speaking for you.

"I have knowledge on both subjects," he said, looking at her and not you.

"Perfect, I told you he knew," she said smiling at you and you just smiled back "Can she stay so you can explain a little about the subject?"

Your eyes widened looking at her "I don't think Professor Miller has time for that" you said laughing nervously, shaking your head.

"Well… I'll stay a few more hours, so I have time," he said looking at you, this time his voice sounded deeper

You stared at him for a moment swallowing, felt your ears rumble.

"You see, Professor Miller is always there to attend to his students, see you on Monday Mr. Miller" Ava said goodbye as she made her way to the door, Joel said goodbye, and you only felt the air from the door blow behind you, feeling Joel's presence heavier than ever.

"Take a seat" he said, pointing with his hand to the chair in front of him

You sat down leaving your things aside, you breathed deeply. You watched the room as he got up and picked up some papers on the shelf in the corner.

His office really was big for a simple professor. There were two large windows behind his desk, the ceiling was twice as high as the rest of the school, there was a brown leather armchair at the other end of the room, a coffee table in front of it and a warm light lamp on one side of the armchair. Several bookshelves adorned the walls, some paintings and recognitions.

His desk was kept simple, a laptop, papers on one end and a few books on the other end, his glasses were kept on one side of his case while a coffee cup was kept empty on the other side of the laptop. His office was kept lit by a few warm lamps that he had around the office. The little light of the cloudy afternoon came in through the windows, which were kept open letting the cold breeze into the cozy cube.

Your teeth gnashed from the cold coming in, as the afternoon was cold at this time of year. You were dressed in jeans, your top being a white long-sleeved shirt but a little open at the chest, revealing your collarbones and your locket hanging from your neck.

Joel walked back to the desk, leaving some papers on the side of the laptop.

"Okay" sat down in front of you as he leaned back in the chair and let out a heavy exhale from his lips "Tell me you'd like to know" his lips moved as he rested his right arm on the armrest of his desk chair and rested his thumb under his jaw, index and middle finger on the hundred and the others rolled into his palm.

You couldn't breathe properly, it was hard to inhale and exhale slowly. It makes you feel strange to be in his office alone, like those old days, you were only in the same situation once, but it was for no seconds, now it was different, because it was you and only you who was with him, without people to take his attention away from you.

"Well…" You breathed as you watched as he swallowed and his Adam's apple went down and up, while his gaze stayed on you, serious. "I have an initial basis for my thesis, the introduction, which is transpersonal anthropology and psychological anthropology, but… I wanted to talk about both fields but it's a bit impossible since it's too much of both subjects"

"It's not impossible if you're talking about topics that are intertwined between the transpersonal and the psychological, you would have to investigate if any research of this type has already been done, so you can have some sustenance or support"

You were about to speak when he interrupted you

"And why don't you focus on a specific topic about transpersonal anthropology?

"Because I'm still interested in psychology, and I think it's something that can go hand in hand with the transpersonal in the social area" you said, clapping your palms in your lap, while smiling at him with sealed lips.

He smiled at you, nodding.

"Can I see your research preview? If it doesn't bother you"

"Sure," you took out your cell phone and opened the file. You held it out to him, he reached out and took it in his hands, making your phone look small in his hand.

He looked at the screen as his hand reached out to grab the glasses that were next to him and put them on, you looked at him and you could see the reflection of your cell phone in his glasses as he rested his elbows on the wood of the desk.

You watched as he wagged his finger up on the screen, you could see through his glasses as his eyes moved following the letters on the screen. You could hear his breathing, which honestly bothered you a little bit when people breathed too hard, ugh you couldn't stand that but… Being him was fine. You moved your foot impatiently and nervously, something Mr. Miller could notice.

"Do you want coffee?" he said as he looked at you through his glasses, and the fine lines on his forehead were present.

"n.. no, I'm fine," you let out a small nervous laugh. He only nodded, smiling slightly and looking back at the screen.

"Don't be nervous then" echoed in your ears along with his hoarse tone of voice, that tone you longed to hear close to your ear, that delirious.

"I'm not nervous, just impatient" you said looking at your heels while keeping your hands crossed in front of your chest.

You saw how he put his arm down and put your phone on the desk and slid it towards you. You watched your cell phone rest on the wood with the screen on, you saw the small black letters that were written on that screen, and you could see that he had read to the end of the document.

"I think it's okay," you looked up and saw that he had crossed his arms while he saw you still with his glasses on.

"Just okay?" you looked at him incredulously and frowned.

"What do you want me to say? It's only 3 leaves," he said seriously, without taking his eyes off you.

"Won't you tell me that I need to expand the introduction further? check my spelling mistakes, that I need to paraphrase the texts well"

He bit his lip and denied

"No, I think you have everything under control" You stared at him in silence "did you expect me to tell you something else?" he said raising an eyebrow

"A little yeah... you used to correct me only by the index of work" you said quietly, looking at your heels.

You heard how a little laugh sounded from his chest, you looked up and he smiled at you, you saw in his eyes such a beautiful sparkle.

"You're so cute" Your chest would explode if he told you that

"Well, if you put index inside it… It's very obvious that it's wrong, sweetheart"

Shit, did he… Did he actually call me sweetheart?

"Sorry..." you said in a whisper

"You don't have to say sorry, it's okay," he said, looking down at his arms.

"I'm sorry to expect a lot from you always"

He looked up in eye contact, and you saw his face turn into surprise and confusion at your confession.

"What do you mean?" This time he lower his arms so he can get closer to the desk and be close to you, with the wood being the only thing separating you both.

You sighed as you saw his confused expression. You should be honest with him, let him know how you feel about him as your teacher.

"Honestly…"You paused to breathe "You are my favorite teacher, from the first day you taught us I saw the passion you had, how much you like to help your students… and I.. I just want to be as good as you."

You looked at him in silence as he processed what you said

"You are very smart and you know about everything, I wish I was good at everything and that it was easy, that I could know the subject easily" you sighed heavily "I know you expect a lot from me, and I'm sorry I didn't pay attention in class today, I know you put effort into your work and I know you want us to learn as much as possible, I really shouldn't have lost focus"

He didn't need to know all that, but you were frustrated by his class, and you felt like he wasn't evaluating you properly because of your attitude. He was silent for a few more seconds, maybe you had sounded pathetic when you said all that… Was it too much to say?

"Sorry, I didn't mean to sound pathetic"

"Don't apologize please" You looked at him and he was already looking at you. "It's nice that you tell me that I'm your role model, I know you're an amazing student, i can see that you're determined to get what you want, you're responsible, you have ethics, that says a lot about the person you are" he smiled at you "and the class… Don't worry, I know I'm not always going to get 100% attention, and I shouldn't have talked to you like that in front of everyone, I apologize for that." You could see the regret in his eyes

"Thank you" you nodded and gave him a half-smile, he smiled back nodding

"and just to be clear… You're also my favorite student" a mischievous smile appeared on his lips as his eyes narrowed.

You gawked at him as you watched as he stood up, grabbed his cup, and walked to the coffee maker behind him, with his back to you, a perfect view of his back.

"Really?" you couldn't help but sound happy and confused at the same time

"Yes," he said, still with his back turned

"Since when?" he was going to speak but you interrupted him "Is it because I said you're my favorite teacher?"

You heard him laugh and look at you over his shoulder. He fell silent looking at you and you just frowned, waiting for his answer eagerly.

He turned around and replied

"since the first time I saw you, last semester"

Your smile faded, your mouth dried up, you felt your hands turn cold.

Was it true? Or was he screwing you? For a moment you thought about that day… And was it impossible for you to remember everything, what he had seen in you that day? As far as you can remember, you were quiet the whole class, you only participated by telling him your name and some of your hobbies, but other than that… You don't remember saying anything interesting about the class. You wouldn't let curiosity kill you, so you bravely decided to ask him

"what did you see in me that day?" You leaned your elbow on the desk and your fist held your jaw as you stared at him.

He turned around with a blue mug in his hand walking to the desk, putting the cup in front of you. You looked at him confused.

"I didn't ask you for one"

while he went to the coffee maker taking his cup he replied

"take it, I don't accept a no"

You smiled, you looked at the coffee and saw that it was black.

"Amm I don't like black coffee"

He finished filling his cup. He walked silently to the side of the coffee maker and took a small piece of cardboard, walked with both hands full, left his cup in front of his chair and held out the cardboard, you took it and looked at the letters, 'vanilla flavored milk' it said on the front.

You smiled at him in appreciation. It was a bit odd that he had this in his office, as you always saw him drinking black coffee all over school, he didn't look like someone who drank lattes, and less vanilla flavored.

You filled your cup a little with the milk, closed it, and set it aside. While Joel was looking at the furniture full of books that sat at the other end of his desk, in front of these two pieces of furniture was a dark olive-green three-seater armchair, it was spacious.

You don't know how many times you'd admired how good he looked, it was ridiculous the space it has in your mind, the number of times you think how fine it looks.

You took the coffee, and left it on the desk when you saw Joel approaching you. Joel came back to you but this time with a book in hand, left it on the desk and sat down in his chair.

"This book could be useful for your research, and for you to learn a little more about anthropology"

You brought it closer to you' Transpersonal Anthropology. Society, Culture, Reality and Consciousness, DIEGO R. VIEGAS ́ you read on the cover of the book.

"You've given me a book before, remember?" you said, double-tapping the book.

"And?" he take from his coffee looking at you through his glasses

"Why do you give me another one?"

before answering you he taste the taste of coffee in his mouth, lick his lips and look at you.

"It's for my favorite student to learn and I don't go around scolding her in class"

You felt your cheeks burn, you looked down, but not before seeing how he smiled and crossed his arms.

Heck, he knows the effect that had on you.

You laughed, trying not to sound nervous. Was he making you nervous on purpose? Even though it was somewhat innocent the way he did it, but why call you his favorite student and give you 2 books from his bookshelf, you would never do that, your books are sacred to you, you would only recommend them and that's it, but give it to someone? You should appreciate that person so much to do such an act, even love him too much.

"You didn't answer my question," you said as you sipped from the cup, looking at him over the blue pottery

You saw how he smiled and shook his head. He scratched his beard, which was adorned by some gray hair on both sides of his jaw.

"I remember … You were at the front of the class, I thought you would be one of the ones who talked all the time, but you never participated, you just nodded to what your classmates were saying, and I thought 'what a weird girl, why being at the front when you don't participate' only heard your voice when you introduced yourself, and knowing what you liked to read… I liked you immediately, It made me tender to see you nod and take note, you are very calm, and you have a lot of knowledge, even if it is hard for you to believe it"

You didn't know that he had noticed you that way from the first day, he took the time to study you between classes, that he would be interested in you because of your taste in reading. It felt strange in any way that he would tell you that, it felt very… private, very personal. Some teachers would just say that because you were responsible and paying attention, they were satisfied with that, but not Joel, he saw something in you that you weren't sure was visible to you, it's like what you see in him.

You remembered the way he treated you, the warm, soft tone of voice in which he addressed you. The smile that appeared on his face when you approached his desk, how his eyes sought you when he asked them to participate, the attention he paid when you presented a topic in class. All the attention you felt you had at the beginning became less and less as the months went by, but whenever you sought him he was there for you. And now… You felt all the pressure on you.

"Well… I wasn't the only one who knew" you shook your head grimacing, you lowered your gaze and looked at your red nails "there were other colleagues who were more diligent"

"No one like you" you looked up shy to see a different reaction in their eyes. You swallowed and just denied it.

You had exactly one name on the tip of your tongue, a name that had been on your mind the previous semester, you were afraid to say it, to say it in front of it, but it's a perfect opportunity that you wouldn't pass up.

"Melissa" you finally said, you tried to sound as normal as possible.

You looked up and as you had imagined. His face changed, his eyes turned dark and his features hardened, he tried to disguise it with his tone when answering.

"What about her?" he leaned over the desk and intertwined his fingers on the desk.

"She was just like me… passionate about the same topics, but she did participate" you smiled nodding, pretending you liked her.

"Well," he paused and took a moment to think and blink as he looked at you, "I think… She was different from you… From what I saw in class, I don't think you should compare yourself to her"

You held his gaze when he finished speaking. You didn't know how he did it, but if you knew what really happened, you'd say he's good at lying.

"I'm not comparing myself, I'm just saying she could have been your favorite student too" You shrugged and took one last sip of the coffee in front of you.

"I don't usually go around thinking about who my next star student will be, but you'd be surprised to know that you're the first favorite student I have"

You laughed, shaking your head and covering your mouth with your palm as you laughed. On the move you caught him directing his eyes at your body, but it was in the blink of an eye.

"I must be special, I guess"

"You must be," he smiled at you, showing his teeth as he looked at you with a twinkle in his eye.

Sunday.

The smell of the night after it rained was something different, the breeze whipping through the curtains of your room, the sky full of gray clouds too big to cover the sky in its entirety. The street outside your house was silent, you could only hear the heavy air squealing out your window breaking through. You were lying on your bed, while it was being kept tidy you only had an old blanket on top of you, in fact it was from one of your favorite childhood movies, high school musical.

You had two pillows behind your head for extra support. Your eyes stayed focused on the show you were watching. For you, Sundays meant resting and not talking to anyone, there was something about Sundays that felt different from the other days of the week. Normally you didn't go out, you weren't a person who liked to go out all the time, your social battery drained very quickly if there were too many people.

As you ran your hand over the locket hanging from your neck, you remembered that first week of the previous semester, the way Joel noticed that you had changed your necklace.

"What happened to the previous one?" he said, his arms crossed as he leaned his hips against your desk.

"I put it away, don't you like this one?"

"It's very nice, you must keep something very precious inside"

"I don't put anything in it yet" you laughed slightly

"Well, when you do I want to know"

It was part of you, of your personality, it was attached to you by some invisible rope that you didn't know how to detect, the feeling, the power that made that necklace so special to you. It's like with Joel, you didn't know what force brought you closer to him, you didn't know what contained that human being who made your thoughts his, maybe you maintained a closeness that no teacher/student would have, but for you it was something innocent and vague, he was just doing his job helping you with your work.

The comment your friend had made to you ran through your mind over and over again 'no teacher would express himself like that about a student, let alone tell her that she is his favorite student, I doubt that any teacher in his life has had one'. You didn't want to think that he might have a little interest in you, because if you look at it from his point of view… What the hell could he see in you? You weren't mature or attractive enough to be with him, plus it's impossible to have any kind of relationship with him.

Things after Friday had been different, despite not seeing him for 1 day, you couldn't stop thinking about his gaze, how he smiled when he looked at you, the seriousness on his face when you named melisa. You really wanted it all to be a lie, you begged it wasn't the kind of teacher who sexually harasses his students until they get what they want. If you ever had a chance to be with him, you wanted to be the only one, you wanted to be special to him.

Even if you thought you were deluded because let's face it, he is an adult man, older by almost 26 years, he has a life made, he has stability, he is a mature person full of experiences, he is single, attractive, he can have any woman with him if he wants, so why settle for a 21-year-old girl who on top off that is his student who has damn mental and commitment problems, and in need of attention all the damn time.

Hell, you were so dam hard to yourself at times but you had to keep your feet on the ground. You were damn smart that you knew that if you got into the game it was going to be easy to get out of it, you shouldn't take it so seriously, you'd let everything flow in its wake.

You know he needs a woman, but you could give him what no one has done for him, you wanted to be his weakness so badly, you wanted him to beg you to be his… and you wanted to beg him to make you his again and again.

Your thoughts tormented you when you were alone, you couldn't help but think about different things at once, for you there was no such thing as the phrase "one crisis at a time" you worried about something that didn't happen yet or you didn't know if it was going to happen, and to top it all off, you thought if there was a solution when the only damn solution is to stop thinking about it.

Your brain was talking to you too much and that's why you overthought things. You were halfway through the series when your cell phone vibrated against the wooden surface of your desk next to your bed.

It was your friend who had sent a message. You grabbed your phone and lay back down. The screen of your phone lit up your face making your eyes narrow from the flash, you smiled as you read your friend's message.

You better be dressed up, I'll pick you up in 10 minutes, I don't take no for an answer

Does being in my pajamas work for you?

Don't fuck with me, let's go to a karaoke bar, I'll give you another 5 more minutes

You sighed when you read the last message.

You didn't know what to wear, you were thinking about a dress and a jacket but the day was very cool and you would probably freeze to death when you left your house. Your best bet was jeans that fit beautifully, black heeled boots that reached below the knee, and a black backless t-shirt and denim jacket.

As your friend promised, I'll arrive at the time she agreed for you. They arrived at the karaoke bar, which you had never been to, it was a good atmosphere, a central place with a lot of people. Inside was a place with blue, purple, yellow, and pink lights illuminating the place, and some warm lights so as not to overwhelm the view so much.

They were round tables, each one separate from the other, the stage was at the back of the place, it wasn't that deep, you could see the people from the entrance perfectly.There were 2 sections as one was karaoke and the other was a bar, but they were connected by the bar where you could turn around and see everyone on the other side.

Since the place was very popular, they had to enlarge the place, and some people who didn't enjoy being among the hustle and bustle so much went to the other end. There were people of all ages around. You walked inside the place and Katy Perry's roar song was playing all over the place.

Even if you didn't know how to sing well, people had fun, no one was judging, it was all laughter and shouting encouraging people to sing and dance.

They approached a table that was relatively in the center, and other girls they knew from college from another major were at the table. When you saw them you greeted each other happily, you took off your jacket and left it on the back of the chair, sat down and chatted for a moment before others got up to sing. You and your friend decided to go to the bar for drinks for all four of you.

"This place is sick" you said, looking around the place as you waited for drinks.

"I know, how come you've never come" she tapped her fingers on the dark wood

"You know I don't usually come this way"

"I'll have to get you out, you can find someone to have fun with"

"So you get them from here?" You said laughing mockingly

"Yes, but I get them from the other section"

They both turned to the front and saw a few men between 35 and forty-something, up to 50. You could see them coming in and out of the bar, many of them were looking at karaoke.

"So you're going to that section just for that?" You looked at her and she laughed slightly

"I use the bathroom too" you both laughed.

They returned to the table with the drinks. Time passed slowly, the atmosphere was so good that the four of them got carried away and drank a little more, but since you were not used to drinking your friends held it better than you without a doubt. You laughed, sang and danced like everyone else in the room.

You were so gone that you didn't know that one of your friends had put them on the list to go up and sing.

"It's going to be our turn" the redhead said, drinking from her glass.

"What for?" you said, wiping the drink residue from your lips.

"we´re gonna sing buddy!" the blonde said screaming as she got up from her seat.

If you had been in your 5 senses you would be nervous, dying of anxiety, resisting but since you were under the influence of alcohol, you stood up dancing. You didn't think of anything, you didn't rush for a moment, you decided it was your time, you felt good, it was in the air so, why not?

They were passing by the tables when they were called.

"The next group will sing, a round of applause for these beautiful ladies" Applause and some whistles were present when they took the stage.

..............................

"You guys said it would be a bar, not this place," Joel said as he wrinkled his nose.

"Come on men, this place is amazing"

"and let's not forget that you can find beauties here"

Joel had gone to the same karaoke/bar with his friends, they had been to that place many times, Joel let´s say he was not a fan of karaoke.

They came in and heard applause and whistles from the people. The place was a little more crowded when he arrived, they went to the bar next to the karaoke and sat on the closest stools they could find.

"We have a good view tonight," said one of his friends who, like him, was a teacher, only he was a medical teacher.

They ordered their drinks, and before they could start talking, the melody of a song began to play.

"It's not the one they dedicated to you, doctor," he said with a laugh as Joel joined in.

"At least I had a reaction from a woman, tell me what you got?" he laughed

"Two beautiful children" he looked into his eyes

"crikey" Joel said, drinking from the bottle

You and your friends started singing, and Joel still didn't realize that two girls on stage were his students.

"I told them I wouldn't have as much time in class since I'd be doing work somewhere else" the doctor said, sipping from his beer bottle.

"Then you won't teach at the university anymore?" said Joel as he held the spout of the bottle.

"I think I have better opportunities in the other place, honestly it's overwhelming"

"overwhelming?" said the other "It's overwhelming to have kids, and a shitty job that pays the minimum monthly, plus you get the best, you can see beautiful and young girls without commitment"

The doctor and Joel looked at each other, shaking their heads, smiling.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you friend but… I don't work in that place for the girls" he said, shaking his head as he looked up at the stage,

"Joel?"

"No, I'm sorry, I don't either" he rub both palms into his jeans.

"you´re both idiots, you could be with whoever you wanted" he grabbed his beer and pointed to the singing girls.

"¡Carve my name into his leather seats!" the redhead sang at the top of her lungs.

"Just an example, imagine that those girls are your students, wouldn't you notice them?"

Both men turned to the stage, the doctor made a face and turned to look at him, while Joel cocked his head, observed and recognized one, your friend who did the chorus and danced, he laughed, and of the other 3 he was amazed when he saw you, he focused his eyes thinking if it was really you or was he hallucinating.

'is that…'

"Why do you keep thinking that?" said the doctor, tapping his friend's shoulder.

"I'm just saying, it's hypothetical" he looked at Joel and laughed "I think Joel did like the idea"

They both looked at Joel and he pointed his finger at both of you

"those two are my students" the two of them turned to see who he was referring to and made a surprised face, more than anything when they saw how one of them, I mean you, had your eyes narrowed trying to read the lyrics but without losing your style.

"Slash a hole in all four tires, maybe next time, he'll think before he cheats" You sang while hugging your friend.

"Are they your students? On a Sunday night, they'll be with a good hangover"

"da bomb" said the doctor raising his bottle in the direction of you toasting

"they won't be my problem tomorrow" said Joel laughing without taking his eyes off you when he saw your funny expressions and trying to concentrate on the lyrics.

When they finished singing, the audience applauded and whistled. They came down from the stage smiling and cheering each other on.

For your part, it had been an ecstasy of emotions, you were sweating from your forehead from so much dancing. They walked to their table and they all fell tired while laughing.

"That was incredible" shouted the blonde

"it was" said your friend drinking from her glass

"Shit, I'm sorry girls but I have to go to the bathroom" you said standing up, your friend got up too

"I'll go with you"

You both walked to the bathrooms on the side of the bar, a few glances turned to you. When I came out already refreshed, they were going through the bar when you got dizzy and stopped.

"Dizziness" you laughed lightly, leaning back on a bench that was alone.

"You've had a lot to drink, let me ask you for a water" your friend said as she asked for the bottle.

"Damn, that man is so cute" you murmured, taking the bottle that your friend held out already opened.

Your friend turned to see who you were referring to and her eyes almost popped out at who it was.

"Is that your boyfriend" she elbowed you and you frowned, confused,

"boyfriend?" you wrinkled your nose looking at her.

"Mr. Miller," she turned to look at you while smiling

"Shit" you muttered while squinting to get a better look

"It certainly looks good in casual clothes" your friend mentioned, looking at it the same way.

You got up and walked over to where he was, slowly approached with your friend behind you and raised your hand greeting him from afar, he smiled nervously at you.

"Mr. Miller!" you said excitedly, smiling at him.

"Hey you" he laughed when he saw you

"what a coincidence, professor" your friend said as she looked at the other two men.

"Shouldn't you be in bed at this hour?" said Joel, wanting to sound serious but failed to see you looking him up and down.

"Oh my God, I just found my father" your friend said sarcastically and you couldn't help but laugh.

"We just wanted to get closer and say…" You took a breath and looked at him "you look great tonight, Mr. Miller" You smiled, cocking your head and blinking. "You look very lonely, do you need company?"

Joel took a big breath and exhaled while laughing

"thanks for the compliment...and I'm not alone" he looked at his friends with a closed-lip smile and they just held back their laughter.

"Well… They're not going to know how to beg for it so..." you bit your lip.

"Okay, see you at the college Mr. Miller" your friend pulled you by the arm. You left laughing on the way to the table and your friend did the same.

"You're crazy" she said as you both sat down.

"Who's crazy?" said the blonde.

"She" pointed at you with her eyes "She dared to hint to our professor"

"Is your teacher here?" The blonde narrowed her eyes

"Wow, she's drunk" said the redhead, eating from the tortilla chips

They all laughed, you told them a little about your little crush, you pointed them out from afar, he was still at the bar with his friends, while you watched him talk animatedly.

From Joel's perspective, he found the way you expressed yourself very funny, you didn't hesitate to say what you thought, he liked it, you seemed like a totally different person from the girl he is used to seeing, quiet, reserved, shy, respectful and above all introverted, with a gentle and sweet look. The girl he saw through his eyes was someone else, but he didn't dislike it, he saw in you a girl who knows how to have fun, without care, flowing with the environment, being herself and not afraid to express whatever is on the tip of her tongue.

....................

Monday.

You cursed the moment you thought it would be a great idea to drink alcohol, until you were knocked unconscious in your friend's car. You'd beat yourself mentally while you were in the bathroom complaining about the migraine you had, while wiping your mouth with water.

"Shit, I can't stand it" You held your forehead with the palm of your hand as you came out of the bathroom.

You didn't want to go to the first hour, your head was exploding and you hadn't found any pills in your entire house, and on top of all that, you had an empty stomach.

You stared at the classroom door, debating whether or not to enter.

"Mmh" you stood in the hallway.

You thought about your options, and you thought it would be a good excuse to go to Ava and ask her for a migraine pill. You walked into the teachers' offices, visualized Ava's door but knocked and got no answer, and remembered that she was arriving a little later, after 8.

You saw the doors of some teachers and administrators open, but you didn't know any of them, you had no choice but to walk to the end of the hallway. You saw the door open and peeked out. He had his back to the door, as you would suppose he was pouring himself his coffee. You knocked twice on the door to get his attention. He turned around and was surprised.

"Good morning," he said hoarsely as he looked at you with a frown.

"Good morning" you said, poking out your whole body and standing at the door.

"Come in, tell me how I can help you" he put the cup down from under the coffee maker and rubbed his palms on his pants.

"Sorry for bothering so early," you winced.

God can't stand even my own voice.

"You're not a nuisance, tell me," he walked over to the coffee pot, looking at the cup.

"I wanted to know if you didn't have a migraine pill" The way you said it was so soft and silent that he turn to look at you with concern.

"Are you okay?" he walked over to a drawer of his desk and looked inside as he put on his glasses and looked at you on them.

"No, I feel like my head is exploding.

They were silent as he rummaged through the drawer. You saw how he picked up a box, opened it, and pulled a pill out of the wrapper.

"Here, it's Dexketoprofen, it'll help you better than an aspirin" You held out the palm of your hand and he placed it in it.

Without saying anything, he handed you a bottle of water.

"Thank you"

You were about to put it in your mouth when its voice interrupted you.

"Have you eaten anything yet?" he looked at you with a worried countenance.

"amm… No" you said sadly, watching as his left hand rummaged through his back pocket, he pulled out his wallet and spoke.

"I'll go get you something, sit down, you must have something in your stomach before you take it."

You sat in the olive green armchair waiting for him. It wasn't long before he walked in the door, you looked at him and his hands left some crackers and an orange on the table. You gawked at things.

"I'll make you a green tea, okay" his voice sounded calmer and softer.

You saw how he went straight to the hot water that he kept in a different coffee pot and poured the water into a cup, took the sack out of the wrapper and plunged it into the water.

You were too tired and sore to say anything. A little attention doesn't hurt.

You didn't know why he was being so helpful, you weren't his responsibility after all. You saw him worried about you, maybe he felt sorry that you were so bad, you felt that you smelled sick and that disgusted you. You felt embarrassed that he saw you like that, you felt so horrible that you didn't want anyone to see you, but he was helping you, being so helpful, you didn't know how that made him twice as attractive.

You saw him come to your side with a cup in his hand. You drank, ate, and took the pill he gave you to relieve the pain in your head.

You felt powerless, you felt weak. It was anything but funny, being locked up with him in his office, smelling of perfume, soap fresh out of the shower, and the essence of coffee, while you smelled of medicine, tea, sick person and vomit for sure.

While he was looking at you with those big brown eyes of his. Her lips parted trying to find words to make you feel better. He was as presentable as ever, his hair fresh and slicked back. The shower hadn't helped you much, it just gave you the power to come to school but you couldn't stand being in it anymore… Not even having set foot in the classroom.

"You need to be careful with alcohol," you looked at him and sighed heavily, "if you can't handle it, don't drink," this time it sounded more demanding.

"Well… You're no one to tell me how much to drink" you looked at him with crooked eyebrows "it's my responsibility"

He nodded, "I know you can be responsible, you're a big girl after all, aren't you?"

You just rolled your eyes back and snorted, drinking the last of the tea. You put the cup down on the coffee table and looked at it.

"Thank you for… This," you pointed to the leftovers in front of you.

"Anything for my favorite student" You looked at him a mocking smile appeared on his face, which made you let out a small laugh mocking sarcastically.

It was a challenge to be around him, he made you feel so small at times, so vulnerable, so loved and damn needy. And sometimes stupid.

You smiled shyly at him as you said goodbye. You got up and in doing so you got dizzy. He reflexively grabbed you by the waist and by your arm, you grabbed his shoulders for support. You closed your eyes and breathed trying to get back to your posture, when you opened them you saw him in front of you, close to you.

He looked at you worriedly, you're sure he asked you if you were okay, but you were gone, it was the closest you'd ever been. He looked at your face to see if you gave any signs, while your thoughts desired something else.

You thought this was your chance, maybe this was the right moment, maybe finding yourself sick in his office was meant to be. You could have thought twice but you didn't, it was now or never.

You looked him in the eye and looked at his lips. He was looking at you confused, maybe you were about to faint and he was still holding you up without doing anything else.

You felt so close to the moment when you felt a hot liquid from the back of your throat rise, burning your windpipe, vocal cords and reaching your roof of your mouth in a matter of seconds. You felt like it was an explosion that came out of your mouth, you didn't want to open your eyes, your gaze was down. Whatever came out of your mouth, it was all over him, his clothes, shoes… You could even feel it on your face, you could feel traces of it on the edges of your lips. But you prayed he wouldn't have a trace on his face. You swallowed hard and heard his voice.

"I think… You must take the pill again."

Fucking hell. Swallow me.

Thanks to Bard's artificial intelligence for giving me insight into the topics of physiological anthropology. we love imagining Joel teaching and being damn smart. Thank you for your support, it means a lot to me. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it, tell me what you thought and what you would like to see in this controversial "relationship".

#joel miller fic #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal characters #joel miller fanfiction #smut #joel tlou #x reader #joel x f!reader #joel x you #joel x female reader #teacher! joel #teacher attachment #teacher x student #hot teacher #teacher crush #angst #joel angst

[joelmillers-whore]

Hard Light | Chapter 1

summary: when a new english professor begins teaching your class for the duration of your semester, you can’t help but develop an innocent crush on him. he’s as off-limits as he can be, but that doesn’t deter you in the slightest. after a drunk night, you accidentally email him something that wasn’t intended to ever be seen by anyone. but that doesn’t matter. it triggers a misunderstanding that manifests into an affair with your professor who is twenty years your senior. nothing good could come of this, right? 

pairings: professor!joel x college student!reader

word count: 2.2K

series or one-shot

warnings: 18+ explicit, minors DNI, no mention of Y/N, alternate universe, professor/student relationship, eventual smut, self-esteem issues, workaholic, joel x female!reader, infatuation bordering on obsession (stay delulu friends), some sexual thoughts, masturbation (f), joel being a huge tease lol, (will add more tags as i write)

AN: i am so excited by the response that my joel one-shot got a few days ago and i’ve been itching to get something else out to you all. big, giant forehead kisses for those who want one, i love you all. so, anyway, a mini-series about professor joel is coming at you fast. i’ve written the first few chapters, so expect those in the near future. i’m thinking once a week? this fic is going to be something else and i’m so excited to share it with ya’ll. enjoy, and let me know what you think. find my ao3 here for more content and other fandoms.

You were running late for your shift at the coffee shop on campus, rummaging around your dresser, trying to find the low-cut black top you always wore when you had a shift. You weren’t usually one to feed into the peer pressure of those around you, but push came to shove when you found it nearly impossible to keep yourself afloat as a twenty-something student without the added extra tips from your part-time job.

So what if you had to show a little bit of cleavage? Right? There was no harm. Student loans were a bitch and on top of rent and food costs, you had to get a job at the coffee shop and balance a full course load just to make ends meet. 

A thought popped into your head and you rushed to your laptop, throwing it open as you checked the time; 5:45 AM. If you busted out your lightning-fast typing skills, you would have enough time to catch the next bus and make it to campus with five minutes to spare. If only your crappy second-hand computer would work.

The thing honestly sounded like a chopper engine, getting ready for lift-off. You were surprised you’d gotten this far with it. Not that you weren’t appreciative, your older brother had passed it down and it had relieved a huge weight—  and expense off of your shoulders. 

You tabbed into your school portal, typing in your credentials and selecting your English course. You sighed heavily, as you skimmed over the assignment for this week, something to do with a sonnet that you couldn’t care less about. You loved school but ever since becoming an English major, the spark that you once had for literature sort of just evaporated.

You couldn’t tell if it was because of how busy you were with everything else that you just couldn’t find the time to enjoy it, or the thought that really scared you, you had fallen out of love with it. 

It had been two years of go, go, go and you were, for lack of a better word, burnt out. You’d tried dropping courses last semester, thinking that you just needed a little bit of ease when it came to your course load, but when that didn’t solve the problem and only made things worse for you, you spent the last two semesters trying to catch up and get yourself to a place where you could finally breathe.

But it wasn’t easy. You were only now caught up to where you had been, the illusion that you were someone who could afford to take time off and slow down was a distant memory. 

In bold letters, the words Paid Internship jumped off of the screen. You smiled as you leaned in closer to the screen, making sure you read through everything correctly. This was the break above the surface that you needed, the reprieve that you had been chasing. A paid internship was exactly how you’d be able to make more money and maybe have a little breathing room before you worked yourself into an early grave.

You clicked the mail icon at the top and clicked into a new email, deciding that the worst-case scenario was that you wouldn’t get the internship. All you were doing was inquiring about the application process. Best-case scenario; you’d get it and make some extra pocket money. 

You saw the time, cursing under your breath as you slammed the laptop closed, grabbed your phone out of the charger and ran out of the door. You couldn’t be late, not again. You texted your co-worker Jeremy to open the shop without you and explained to him that you were running a few minutes late, as you barely made it to the bus. You climbed on board, scanned your student pass and found a seat near the back. Your chest was burning from the rush of trying to make it on time, but you could breathe easy now.

You checked your messages mindlessly, scrolling through a bunch of unread ones that you didn’t have the heart to answer. 

Before you knew it, the familiar monuments and buildings of UT Austin came into view, and the subtle change of scenery from downtown to a more densely packed area made your heart skip a beat. It was the same each time you were back on campus. Which, these days, was often. Sliding out of the seat, you made your way to the front, thanking the driver as the bus came to a complete stop. 

The coffee shop was only a short walk from the bus stop but even still you quickened your pace. You didn't want to leave Jeremy alone for long, you already felt bad enough about letting him open by himself. You stifled a yawn as you pushed open the door to the small cafe, leaning your body into the door, slightly cringing at the shrill sound of the bell. 

"There you are", a male voice called, making your head snap up. You wiggled your nose, the familiar timbre of your ex-boyfriend's voice ringing in your ears. "It's about time you got your ass down here". 

You snickered, shrugging your heavy bag off of your shoulder, and dropping it behind the counter, turning around and greeting him with an unamused smirk.

Jeremy and you had gone out for a few months last year, it was your first and, as of right now, the only short-term relationship that you'd had in college. 

Dating your co-worker, even in a relatively small place like the coffee shop on campus, almost always spelled trouble, but Jeremy was not the type to hold something like a failed relationship over your head. He understood that school was a priority for you and making a living for yourself came first, even above something like a relationship. It might not be the healthiest way to live, but it was how it always was. 

Jeremy and you had developed a fast friendship, one that went beyond the romantic relationship that you'd had last year. You parted amicably and now, you had someone you could confide in, someone you could trust. 

"Why don't you say that to my face?", you teased, raising a brow at him over the milk frother you were setting up. 

Jeremy threw his rag down and stalked over to you. "You're snippy this morning", he chided. 

You banged into his shoulder playfully, "Doesn't help that I have to see your ugly mug first thing in the morning". 

You snorted out a laugh and Jeremy looked at you, feigning defensiveness, "Ouch", he paused, returning back to his post near the coffee machine, "Remind me how we ever went out?". 

You scrunched your nose and threw your rag at Jeremy, hitting him square in the face with it, "That was rude". 

He shrugged his shoulder, "You started it".  

You both devolved into a fit of giggles and fell into a comfortable silence, setting up and getting the coffee shop ready for the day. You had a half-day shift to look forward to and then you had class until the late afternoon. The days were long and the nights were longer.

You usually found yourself nose-deep in your textbooks, more often than not, or some classic novel that was required for class, not moving from the couch until your eyes were red and you were seeing double. 

Only then did you retire to sleep, crashing hard until you had to wake up and do it all again the next day. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The coffee shop had been bustling with people since six in the morning, and at one in the afternoon, it hadn't let up, only now you had to go to class. Waving Jeremy goodbye, you sidestepped Tara, the fourth-year who was covering the rest of the afternoon and closing shift. 

You'd crossed the far side of campus, passing by the science building and one of the massive libraries that had acted like a second home to you back when you’d been studying for exams when you were a freshman. You could thank your obnoxious roommates for that one. 

Entering the lecture hall, bodies pressed into you as you weaved through the growing crowd, trying to find a spot in the middle where you could see and hear your English professor. But also blend in with the masses. As if the universe had other plans in mind, and everyone suddenly showed up to the Tuesday lecture all at the same time, you found yourself picking a seat near the front, an exasperated groan leaving you. 

You hated sitting at the front, not because you didn't want to get called on to answer something or because you didn't know the answers, but because you did. You wanted to get through your four years as quickly and unscathed as possible and if people knew, mainly professors, that you knew more about the subject matter than you needed to, you'd surely get called on more often, making you stick out in ways you didn't want. 

It was a terrible curse, going through life with the self-esteem that you did. But it was how you were raised. Blend in. Don't be too loud. Be quiet and only observe. Nerves rapped at your insides when you thought about getting called on when class started. Your heart rate ticked up and you found that your hands were beginning to get clammy, your throat constricting with each breath.

You rubbed your hands up and down your thighs, grounding yourself with the sensation of the material. 

With a jump, you sat up straighter in your seat, being jostled from your thoughts by a loud slam. You snapped your head toward the entrance, eying the person who had startled everyone. It was a man carrying a briefcase.

Your lips tilted up at the edges, amusement tickling you when you thought of anyone using a briefcase nowadays. But here this man was, head down as he made his way to the front of the room, toward the desk. 

You couldn't help keeping your eyes trained on him. On how his slacks tightened around his butt, moulding to the shape and curve of it. You bit your bottom lip out of reflex, your eyes dragging down the length of the mystery man who had crashed your lecture. Maybe he was a TA? Your brows furrowed when you thought about how your professor was nowhere in sight. 

The man with the briefcase placed his case on the desk, turning to face the audience of students who blinked back at him, who now settled down enough to hear him speak. Air caught in your throat when his eyes flicked momentarily to you, and lingered on you for half a second longer than you'd expected. He had massive, warm brown eyes, and soft wrinkles that danced at the edges of his eyes when he smiled, making him seem more boyish than he appeared.

He looked older than a TA would but then again, who were you to judge someone's position in life? You thought that his age did nothing to undermine just how attractive he was, if anything it added to it.  

The man, who may or may not have been moonlighting as your English TA cleared his throat, nodding his head, "My name is Joel, well, Professor Miller to most, but 've always been a little bit more informal than my peers". 

He began to circle the wooden desk nervously, his large hand finding the edge of it and stroking it far more sensually than necessary. You flexed your fingers, gripping the arm of your seat to stabilize yourself. "So, you can call me Joel from here on out... since we'll be seeing more of each other from now on". 

Murmurs began to break out around the lecture hall, and confused and hushed whispers followed. 

Professor Miller— Joel, mumbled something incoherent, and you were unable to hear it from where you sat. He cleared his throat again, "Professor McCarthy has taken a leave of absence, so I'll be filling in for him for the remainder of the semester". 

You crossed your legs, feeling heat rise and a furious blush break out across your face, and shuffled in your seat, a loud creak emitted from it and you stilled, praying that the loud sound had only been heard by you and no one else. But when you lifted your gaze, Joel's eyes were already locked on you, blown and brimming with cautious inquiry. A touch of a smirk graced his lips. 

"And I look forward to getting to know each and every one of you, personally". His eyes were still on you, not ready to release you from their hold. 

His tongue darted out to wet his lips and you couldn't help but stare. You had every reason to look away from him, he was your professor and given the clear age difference, he was someone who was off limits. But when he didn't look away from you either, trapping you with his gaze, your face heated up, suddenly aware that he was purposely staring at you. 

You swallowed thickly, heart hammering as Joel's eyes finally drifted away from you and back to the faces of your classmates. He continued on with addressing the class, and you noticed that he avoided your eyes for the rest of the lecture. 

Only one thought rang through your mind as you tried and failed to focus back on the lecture. This was going to be one long semester. 

#teacher x student #teacher attachment #pedro pascal #joel miller #the last of us #joel tlou #joel the last of us #pedropascaledit #college au #joel miller imagine #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #tlou hbo #tlou2 #the last of us fic #the last of us fanfic #writeblr #fanfiction writer #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedropascal #pedro is daddy #i love pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fanfic #my fic #joel miller x you

[javiscigarette]

Teacher's Pet

Joel Miller x virgin f!reader

Summary: 25 years old, anxiety-ridden, and still a virgin, you ask your friend Joel for advice on your upcoming date. But you're more of a...hands-on learner. And he's more than happy to help. 

Warnings: PWP, unbalanced power dynamics, virgin!reader, neighbor/bff/more experienced! Joel, age gap, first kiss, virginity loss, fingering, oral (f receiving), frequent check-ins, soo much banter and Joel is a menace also so soft and sweet :')....(ends on a cliffhanger but there will be a part two I swear).

w/c: 7.7k idk what happened

a/n: I am resurfacing for your monthly reminder that I do in fact still write!! Inspiration for this came out of literally nowhere but I took it and RAN with it and I think I like it?? As always, thank you to my baby love @undrthelights for helping me with this and always listening to my rambling and for being my biggest enabler Ilysm

Part Two

my masterlist

"Fine! What if, hypothetically speaking of course, you were to, hypothetically, give me a, um, hypothetical, lesson or whatever." Your heart is pounding so hard you can feel your pulse throb in your neck pound in your ears. You slowly drag your hands away from your face and look at him. He stares right back at you, brows furrowed. "A what?" "Forget it. forget I said anything,” you mutter, shaking your head.  "No no wait, hang on, what do you mean? A lesson? Like a…a sex lesson?” 

"Seriously, Joel. Fuck off" you snap but with no bite or heat behind it. You bring the sweating bottle of beer to your lips and finish the rest of the now lukewarm liquid off in one gulp. 

"What? I just find it hard to believe that you've never even had a kiss. Didn't you go to high school? Didn't you ever get invited to a party? Didn't you go to college? College kids do the do like all the time” 

"Clearly not all the time" you mutter, a tad bitterly.

Joel raises his hands defensively and takes a sip of his own beer. "Just seems crazy is all. There's gotta be some chick or dude out there willing to take pity on you and pop your cherry."

You audibly gag at his choice of words. "I don't need a pity fuck, thanks." You stand from the couch and head over to the fridge. The bottles of cold alcohol inside are calling your name and you want something that will help soothe your nerves. You're not a big drinker, but when Joel is prying into your love life like he is now, you wish you were.

"Okay,” he starts from the living room. “Maybe I worded that wrong. What I meant to say was, there's gotta be someone out there who would be more than willing to show you a good time."

You groan and let your forehead fall against the fridge door. "That's the whole point! I came here to get advice for my date, someone who might actually be interested in me, and all you've done is make fun of me for not having fucked anyone yet. So thanks, Joel. You're a real pal."

You push away from the fridge and slam the door shut, a second beer in hand.

"Alright, alright, calm down." He says, hands in the air as if you were holding him at gunpoint as you head back to the couch. "Look, if this guy really likes you then he's not gonna care. Probably won't even be able to tell if you are or aren't."

"You think so?" You ask hopefully.

"Well, I mean, unless you're like... super bad."

Your heart drops into your stomach and you glare at him, "Joel."

"Oh come on, I'm kidding. You're not gonna be bad, okay? Just, go into it with an open mind and just relax. If he tries something you're not comfortable with or makes you feel weird, tell him. And if he gets pussy, dump his ass."

"That simple, huh?" You scoff.

"Well, yeah. You're the one who made it complicated by thinking it was a big deal."

"It is a big deal, Joel! I know nothing!

"Nothing? You ain’t ever watched porn? Jesus, I had no idea you were such a prude."

You can't stop yourself from rolling your eyes and slapping the back of your hand against his arm. He yelps and laughs, rubbing his arm.

"I've watched porn before" you retort. 

"What kind?" he asks with a wiggle of his brows.

"None of your fucking business" you respond, feeling your face heat up.

Joel's lips quirk into a shit-eating grin and you're quick to smack him again.

"Okay okay, sorry!" he says through his laughter. "So what exactly are you afraid of?"

You're not really sure how to answer. It's a combination of so many things, most of which are irrational fears and insecurities. Sure you've seen it all done before, but you're well aware that none of it is realistic. At least, not completely. And just the fact that you're freshly 25 years old without a single notch in your bedpost makes you dizzy with anxiety. It's not like you're saving yourself or anything, it's just that hook up culture has never agreed with you and there's never been an opportunity that made you feel like it was the right one. That is until now, with your cute coworker who you thought was miles out of your league asking you out on a third date. And now, the prospect of being in bed with him is looming over you like a dark cloud and the last thing you want to do is mess it up.

"I guess, I'm just afraid that he's gonna be disappointed, or I'm gonna weird him out, or I'm gonna do something wrong and embarrass myself.” Joel nods along and listens. "And if it is bad then we still have to work with each other and then what if it's awkward and everyone knows about it and then he hates me and--"

"Okay, whoa slow down there, buddy" Joel says, putting a hand on your shoulder. "One, you're overthinking this. You're literally thinking like, five steps ahead of what's actually going on. It's a date. And even if it does end up in the bedroom, you don't have to do anything you don't want to. No one's forcing you, okay? He can't. No one can."

"I know, but I want to," you reply quietly.

"Alright. Then do."

"I don't know howwww!! " you whine, flopping backwards into the couch.

Joel groans and sits up a little straighter, scrubbing a hand down his face. 

"Well, there's no magic trick, I don't have a secret sex manual I'm holding out on ya."

You sigh, shoulders sagging as you look over at him. The idea comes out of nowhere, well, not exactly from nowhere, but it pops in your head so fast that you then have to bite your tongue before the words bubbling up from your throat come tumbling out. 

It's not a bad idea, not necessarily. 

You've been good friends with Joel ever since you moved in next door last year. An unlikely pairing, a 40 year old contractor and an almost 25 year old office worker. But after offering him a six pack as part of introducing yourself to the neighbors, you'd gotten along famously. He fixes things around your house and you send him home with hot dinners and warm, gooey cookies.

 It's an easy friendship, open and honest and supportive, and Joel has never given you reason not to trust him. He's a good guy, if not a little brash, but you know deep down he means well. And it doesn't hurt that he's objectively attractive, with his tall and sturdy frame, strong, calloused hands, dark messy curls....It's not a bad idea.

It's an absolutely insane idea. 

You continue to stare at him, clenching your teeth together to hold back the question sitting on the tip of your tongue.

"What?" he says, looking back at you.

"Nothing" you mutter, eyes flicking away.

"You've got that face you make when you're about to say something really stupid, so just get it out."

You glare at him again, not enjoying the way he can read you so well.

"I wasn't gonna say anything."

"Well now you're lying."

"I'm not."

"You're doing it again!"

"Doing what?!"

"That face!"

"I'm not making a face!"

"Yes you are! Just spit it out!"

You groan and hide your face in your hands. You blame it on the one beer even though you know you’re not anywhere close to being drunk because how else would you justify what you’re about to say? You wait a moment, thinking about the weight of it but your mouth opens before you can stop yourself. 

"Fine! What if, hypothetically speaking of course, you were to, hypothetically, give me a, um, hypothetical, lesson or whatever."

Your heart is pounding so hard you can feel your pulse throb in your neck and hear it in your ears. You slowly drag your hands away from your face and look at him. He stares right back at you, brows furrowed.

"A what?"

"Forget it. forget I said anything,” you mutter, shaking your head. 

"No no wait, hang on, what do you mean? A lesson? Like a…a sex lesson?” 

His eyes are wide, and he looks incredulous. You can't blame him, because the more time that passes between your suggestion and now, the more ridiculous the idea seems.

"I’m sorry, that was…It was stupid. Pretend I didn't say anything. Let's just watch a movie." You move to grab the remote, but Joel's hand covers yours, stopping you.

"Is that what you want?"

You look at him, searching his expression for any sign of disgust or apprehension. But all you can see is the same Joel you've known for months, patient, warm, and understanding.

"I know. I know it's stupid. But I can't get this date out of my head, Joel. It's all I can think about and the more I do, the more worried I get and I just don't want to fuck it up. And I know we're friends and this is weird and gross, but I just thought that... maybe, I could have some practice, so to speak."

He doesn't say anything. Just keeps looking at you, the panic rising in your chest the longer the silence stretches. You start to fidget, wringing your hands together in your lap.

"I'm sorry, that was way out of line" you say, moving to stand up, your skin sweaty and hot with embarrassment and your feet ready to run out the door and never come back. 

But Joel catches your wrist, gently pulling you back down to sit next to him.

"Joel" you whine, not wanting him to humiliate you any further.

"It's okay, come here."

His voice is softer than before, and his eyes are kind. You let him pull you closer, the two of you sitting knee to knee. You can't bring yourself to look him in the eyes, not with your cheeks and the tips of your ears burning like they are, but Joel doesn't push. He simply moves his hand from your wrist, sliding it into yours. His palms are rough and warm, and the simple touch alone is comforting.

"You really wanna do this?” he asks softly. You can feel his eyes boring into you. “I mean, I'm not exactly a prize winning catch. And it's not like there's a shortage of willing men out there."

You shrug and chew the inside of your lip.

"Yeah, but you're my friend and I...I trust you."

There's another pause, and you wish that you could just disappear into the couch and erase this moment from your memory.

"How drunk are you?" he asks, glancing at the beer bottle on the coffee table.

"You saw me finish one bottle. And half of another. I’m barely tipsy."

"Not drunk?”

"Nope."

"You're gonna remember this tomorrow."

"Uh huh."

"And you still want to?"

You groan for the millionth time and squeeze his hand.

"Yes I want to! Look, if you don't want to then that's fine. It was just a dumb suggestion and we can just forget this ever happened."

He hums, considering your words. His hand slips out of yours, and you think that's it, you've scared him off and washed the friendship down the drain. That you'll have to hide from him from now on, that you'll have to pack your things up and move because the mortification would be too much, and that he'll hate you, and—

His two fingers sliding under chin surprise you, and he tilts your head up. He's looking down at you with that same even expression, eyes big, soft, and warm as he slides his hand over to cup your jaw in his palm. 

"If you want to stop at any point, just say so, okay? I won't be upset and we can go back to the way things were before. Got it?"

You nod, your throat suddenly too tight to speak. His thumb sweeps over your cheekbone, the tender touch is enough to make your heart skip a beat. There’s no way this is actually happening. That your first kiss is going to be with your 40 year old menace of a neighbor. That you’re going to, how did you put it, get a sex lesson from him. His gaze flicks down to your lips and back up to your eyes and you’re positive you’re no longer able to breathe. 

"Can I kiss you?" he asks softly. You nod. 

You're sure he can hear the thumping of your heart in his own ears as he leans down. His other hand comes to rest on your hip and when his lips touch yours, a soft, tentative pressure, you're not prepared for the electricity that shoots through you.

He's barely done anything and already you feel like you're floating. Your own hands reach out to clutch his shirt, keeping him close, afraid he'll pull away and leave you cold and wanting if you don't. But he stays put, pressing himself against you, his lips working gently against yours. You follow his lead, kissing him back while trying not to overthink it.

It's nothing like the kisses in the movies or the books, where fireworks explode behind your eyelids or where your foot pops up in the air. It's far more subdued, more quiet and subtle. But the warmth that pools low in your belly and the goosebumps that erupt on your skin when his tongue slides against the seam of your lips, light and quick, makes you absolutely melt. 

He pulls back before you can really react, and you're left with a dizzying rush of both blistering desire and excruciating anxiety. You want to pull him back in and never let him go. But your heart is beating so fast you can hardly breathe, your nerves are buzzing, and the urge to run and hide is nearly paralyzing. 

"Was it bad?" you ask tentatively, cheeks heated.

"No" he replies, giving your hip a squeeze as a smirk plays on his lips. "It was fucking awful. Worst kiss of my life"

"Shut up!" you hiss, pushing him away with a hand on his chest. He laughs, the sound easing some of the tension in your body. 

"I'm just teasing" he says, voice dropping lower. "C'mere, we can work on it."

His lips find yours again, and you try not to smile into the kiss but it's hard when you can feel the way his lips are quirked up as well. It doesn’t take much else to get you to relax and let yourself fall into the moment, into the gentle press of his mouth and the warm hands on your hip and your cheek. He swipes his tongue against your lips again, his fingers pressing lightly into the hinge of your jaw to tilt your head back and coax your lips apart.

You let him, sighing as his tongue glides across yours, hot and smooth and sweet. Your hands slide up his chest, finding purchase around his shoulders, and when you move forward, pushing yourself against him, he grunts softly but lets you. He kisses you until the both of you are gasping for air, and when he pulls back, his lips are wet and red and you're certain yours must be as well.

"Better?" you ask, a bit breathless.

"Getting there" he answers with, his breath warm where it fans across your cheek. 

"You're such a liar" you say with a goofy smile.

"Yeah, I know. Now try again, practice makes perfect.” 

You roll your eyes but lean back in nonetheless. It's a bit more heated this time, the feeling of his teeth nibbling on your bottom lip making you squirm. His hand rounds over your hip, palm smoothing to the small of your back to pull you closer, the heat of his body radiating through your clothes and warming your skin. Your hands move on their own accord, no thought behind the action as they slide up to his shoulders and then his neck, your fingers finding home in the curls at the base of his skull. When you give them a slight tug, you're rewarded with a muffled grunt from Joel. Emboldened, you pull back, lips swollen and tingling.

"You’re a good kisser,” you pant. "Is that something people usually say?"

"When it’s true" he says, grinning at you. "And since I know you're gonna ask, I'd say that was a C+, maybe a B-."

You scoff but blush furiously at the smile he flashes, his eyes crinkling in the corners.

"Well then, tell me what to do next. What do I need to know?"

Joel hums as he thinks for a moment. 

"What do you want to do?"

You stare at him for a second, blinking.

"I don't know, that's why I'm asking you" you say, shaking your head a bit.

"Well, how far do you want to take this?"

You swallow hard, suddenly feeling very shy. You can’t deny that when the idea popped in your head it was accompanied by the mental image of you naked, spread out on his bed, but the actual act of asking him, or better yet, actually doing it is... intimidating to say the least. Are you really about to let him go all the way, to see you bare and vulnerable, let him pop your cherry as he would disgustingly put it? All just to “prepare” for a date with a guy who might not even like you that way?

Yeah, probably.

"All the way" you answer. “I want to go all the way” 

He doesn’t pounce on you like you expected, doesn’t press his lips against yours in a frenzied kiss that you had half hoped for. Instead, he simply looks at you, his brown eyes boring into yours, searching.

"Are you sure? You can always say no and you're not gonna lose me as a friend if this isn’t what you actually want. I don’t want you thinking that."

You can't help the laugh that bubbles up and slips out, because of course Joel, your kind, thoughtful Joel, would say that. He's a good man. A great one, even.

"Yes, I'm sure. But if you don't, I get it, I can just leave and-"

Joel laughs, the sound traveling up from deep in his chest, the rumble vibrating against you.

"Sweetheart, I wouldn't be doin’ this if I didn't want to. Just makin’ sure this is what you really want."

"I want it.” 

He squeezes your hip and swipes a thumb over your cheekbone once again. 

“Alright then.” He nods, firm and resolute, and then looks around the room. “ We’re not doing it here, though. If you're getting the full Joel Miller experience, we're gonna do it right.” 

Your eyes roll reflexively, but your heart picks up its pace regardless.

"I’m not gonna do anything if you call it that ever again."

"Fine, fine,” he relents. “Let me show you what a good, thorough fucking feels like. Better?"

Your jaw drops, and he's laughing at you, his body shaking with amusement.

"Fuck you" you grumble, shoving him away while trying to hide your coy smile. 

"Yeah, that's what I'm hoping for," he says with a wide, self-assured grin.

"I'm leaving" you declare with a false sense of offense as you rise to your feet. Joel is quick to do the same and before you can take a single step away, he slips a finger through the belt loop of your jeans and tugs you back into him, wrapping an arm around your waist.

"I’ll stop, I’ll stop. I'm sorry" he says, not sounding it one bit.

You huff, but let him pull you closer until you’re pressed against his chest and you have to tilt your head back to look at him.

"I’ll be good. I promise."

"Liar"

"Well, yeah. But I can promise that I'll make you feel good."

You can't help the giggle that spills out and he kisses it away, his lips warm and plush and sweet against yours. The hand not resting on your lower back comes up, curling around the nape of your neck and keeping you close. You sink into him, and the fog creeps in again, dulling the rest of the world, making it seem fuzzy and distant, like the memory of a dream. All you can focus on is him, the warm solid weight of him against you, the strong arms holding you, the way his mouth moves against yours. And then he’s pulling back all too soon and you have to stifle a whine.

"Come on" he says, tugging at your hand.

His bedroom is dim, the little lamp on his nightstand and the faint glow of the moon through the curtains providing the only light. You swallow and take a deep breath as you step inside, your bare toes digging into the plush carpet, his hand warm and large where it grips yours.

He holds onto you as he sits on the edge of the bed. You step forward, letting him pull you between his knees. His hands settle on your hips, and you can feel their heat through the fabric of your shirt.

He doesn’t ask if you're sure again and you’re grateful because you’re not sure if you could form any kind of response right now. Instead, he slides his hands up and under your shirt, fingers dancing across your skin and leaving a trail of goosebumps. Your breath hitches as his hands smooth over your ribs and around to your back, the tips of his fingers mapping out the curve of your spine, skimming over each notch and bump. They climb higher, the fabric of your shirt bunching around his wrists. 

“Can I take this off, baby?”

Your heart jumps to your throat but you nod anyway. He grabs the hem and tugs your shirt up and and you lift your arms so he can slip it off over your head. He tosses it aside, the fabric falling to the floor beside the bed. You’re left exposed, vulnerable and bare, save for the worn out bra you wear, a few too many washes and a few years past its prime.

Your hands itch where they hang by your side with the instinct to cover yourself, hide the imperfections that you know so well, the stretch marks, the softness of your stomach, the way the cups of your bra are just a bit too small and spill over the tops.

But then he’s pressing his lips to the space just above your navel, his scruff tickling your skin and making the muscles in your abdomen jump and twitch. His hands find your waist again, and when his lips continue their path upwards, his palms follow, skimming up your sides, thumbs tracing the outline of your ribs before stopping at the band of your bra.

"This too?" he asks, voice quiet and husky.

"Yeah" you answer with a squeak, and he grins like a kid in a candy store.

His fingers undo the clasp deftness that makes your knees go weak, the straps slipping from your shoulders and the whole thing sliding down your arms, landing somewhere near your shirt. 

"God, baby, look at you" he murmurs, his hands cupping the underside of your breasts, his thumbs sweeping over the tops and then down the slope and around your nipple. Your breath hitches, the gentle touch sending a shiver up your spine. "You're fucking perfect."

The praise is unexpected and it sends a jolt of heat through your core. You whimper quietly and his hands are on you again, the calloused palms rough on the soft skin of your breasts. He kneads the flesh, squeezing gently before rolling your nipples between his fingers, pulling and pinching and teasing. 

He pulls you closer and ducks his head, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. He looks up at you through his lashes, eyes dark and hooded, and his pupils blown wide with desire.

"Can I?" he asks.

"Please."

He leans in and wraps his lips around a peaked nipple, his tongue swirling around the sensitive nub, the gentle heat of his mouth on your skin making your knees weak.

His mouth works on one breast, tongue flicking and teasing while his free hand continues its work on the other. Pleasure builds and coils deep inside, the sensation unfamiliar but certainly not unwelcome. You whimper and he pulls away, releasing your nipple with a wet pop before giving it a sweet parting kiss.

He turns his attention to the other, his teeth grazing over the stiff peak and drawing a whine from your lips. He sighs when your fingers tighten in his hair, pulling at the strands until he groans softly against you. He sucks your other nipple into his mouth, the flat of his tongue pressing against it and dragging up and around, swirling and flicking. You’re already breathless, panting, a thin sheen of sweat glistening on your forehead.

"Feels good, Joel," you whisper shyly. 

"I know, honey" he says, a soft smile pulling at his lips when he pulls away. "Feel good anywhere else?"

He doesn't wait for a response, simply slips a hand between your thighs, cupping you through the denim, the simple action making you squeak.

"Here, huh?" he says, the heel of his palm pressing against you.

You gasp softly and nod, biting your lip, too shy to say anything.

"Get on the bed, baby."

You comply, crawling onto the mattress and scooting backwards towards the pillows, sitting at the head of the bed as you watch him. His eyes never leave you as he pulls his shirt over his head, tossing it onto the floor. Your heart thumps as you stare at his bare chest, his tanned skin dotted with a light dusting of salt and pepper hair. He's broad, his shoulders thick and chest solid. Your fingers burn with the urge to reach out and touch him, so you do, extending a tentative, slightly shaky hand.

He watches you closely, eyes flitting down to the palm pressed against his chest before meeting yours again, his mouth curling into a smile.

"You can touch" he says, reaching down to curl a hand around your wrist and bringing it up to his lips, pressing a kiss to the center of your palm before guiding your hand back down to his chest. "I think most people would enjoy that."

"You're having entirely too much fun with this,” you mumble while your fingers spread out across his pec.  

"It is fun" he counters, his own hand sliding up the inside of your thigh, thumb pressing against the seam of your jeans and rubbing up and down. "But it'll be more fun once these come off"

Your lips part, a puff of air rushing out.

"You gonna take them off?" you ask, the words slipping out, bold and unbidden.

He grins, his brow quirking up.

"Look at you, being all bossy"

"You like it" you say, finally feeling some of the anxiety slipping away, the familiar and comfortable banter between the two of you slipping into place in a new, unfamiliar situation.

His smile takes up nearly his whole face as moves closer. 

“I sure do.” 

He looms over you, bracing himself on an elbow next to your head before ducking down to kiss you, his tongue easily slipping into your mouth, warm and insistent. You sigh into it, your hands finding the warm, bare skin of his back, muscles gliding beneath your palms as you slide them up and around, fingertips digging into his shoulders. He's so warm and solid and you can't help the little noise that slips out, a soft, needy moan. You're about to break the kiss and beg him to touch you, give you something, anything, but he pulls back before you can. 

"Impatient. I like that too" he says, voice barely above a whisper.

He kisses the corner of your mouth, then your cheek, then down your neck, his beard scraping against your skin. He continues his path, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses across your collarbones and down the valley between your breasts, his beard tickling your sternum.

His palm presses into the top of your thigh, and you instinctively open your legs for him, his hand immediately moving to cup you through the denim, thick fingers pressing against the seam and the bundle of nerves just below. Your hips rock up, seeking more pressure and he grins, entirely too pleased with himself right now.

You huff, and he laughs, the sound rumbling in his chest, but he relents, undoing the button and zipper of your jeans and tugging the fabric down, revealing the pair of pink panties underneath. 

Joel sits up, pulling your jeans down your legs and letting them drop off the side of the bed, the sound of the denim hitting the floor indicating that you've officially crossed a line that neither of you can come back from. But if the hungry, desperate look on his face and the way you're practically vibrating underneath him are any indication, neither of you want to.

"I'll start with just my fingers, yeah?" he says, his hands running up the insides of your thighs, touch light and teasing, the tips of his fingers brushing the edge of your panties. You nod dumbly, at a complete loss for words right now.

He ducks his head, his lips landing on the smooth skin stretched over your hip bone. You squirm, ticklish, and he grins. His mouth is a great distraction from his hand, which has found its way back in between your legs, his fingers now pressing against damp fabric.

"Shit" he curses, his touch firm. "Fuckin' soaked already. Am I just that good?" he quips with a smirk.

"Jesus do you ever shut up" you gripe, but the effect is ruined by the whimper that escapes you when his thumb sweeps up, pressing hard against your clit. 

"Oh, that's a pretty sound" he murmurs, repeating the motion to pull out another one, your hips bucking against his hand.

"Now," he starts, his tone shifting to the same one he uses when he's about to impart some life lesson. "This guy you're gonna see, or any man for that matter, should always take care of you before himself. That's just common fuckin' sense. And if he doesn't, you send him on his way" he continues. "Because a man that don't wanna see a woman get off is no fuckin' man at all"

You're about to interrupt, tell him he's an idiot and ask him to please, please, get on with it, but his fingers sliding under the elastic of your panties, swiftly pulling them down your legs steals the breath from your lungs. Your pulse sky rockets and you shift underneath him, crossing your thighs in instinctual effort to hide yourself from him. 

"M'sorry I didn't shave or anything" you blurt out, your throat tight with anxiety and embarrassment once again 

Joel just shakes his head as he pries your legs apart.

"Baby, I could not give less of a shit about that."

"But-"

"No" he says, the word firm, an edge of command to his tone. "You’re not apologizin’ for that. And if a man gives a shit, he's a fuckin' child who doesn't deserve the honor of bein' between these thighs" he says, pushing your knees further apart.

You nod and bite your lip, the words that are just so very Joel, settling in your chest and easing the tension in your body. You let out a long, slow breath and relax, trying to ease the nervousness.

"There ya go" he says, his fingers dancing along your slit, gathering the slick pooling there. You shudder at the gentle touch, your hips rolling up just a bit before you force them back down into the mattress, trying to keep yourself still.

"Nuh-uh. None of that" he says, immediately noticing the movement. He slides his free hand under you, his palm pushing into the small of your back and encouraging you to move again, to lean into your pleasure. "You take what you want, baby. Show me how good it feels. That's all I wanna see."

You squirm and whimper, the simple, almost lazy touch driving you insane. You've touched yourself before, brought yourself over the edge while imagining what it would be like to have the things you read about and watch in videos happen to you. But you've never managed to make yourself feel this good, never felt pleasure so intense, never felt a burning pressure in your abdomen so demanding that it radiates all the way to the tips of your fingers and toes.

And he's barely touched you.

"How's that feel?"

You can't even form the words, so you just nod and hum, the sound a mix of a whimper and a moan, your hips rolling up against his palm. He chuckles, and then the pressure increases, the friction building, his fingers slipping down, collecting more of your wetness to ease the drag against your skin.

He moves his fingers down, down, down, the tip of one circling your entrance, gathering the wetness pooling there. You whine loudly, any shame and modesty you once had replaced entirely with desperate need and pure desire.

"Please, Joel" you whisper, voice shaky.

"I gotcha" he says, dipping his fingertip in, just barely, and pulling a moan from deep in your chest. "Gonna give you what you need"

You groan, a long, low sound as he slowly sinks his finger into you. It's nothing like your own, so perfectly thick and long/ And you found the spot before, the spot that he curls his finger up into, but never at this angle, never with the perfect amount of pressure that he's applying right now. 

"Mmm, look at that" he coos as you clench tightly around his finger.

"Joel, god, feels so good" you whimper pathetically. 

"I know, honey, I know."

You clench again, the cockiness and self-assured attitude that usually gets under your skin now ignites your whole body in an entirely different way. He keeps his eyes on your face, watching as your eyes squeeze shut and your mouth drops open, your head tipping back as the pleasure builds.

"Another" you beg, the fullness not nearly enough.

"Greedy girl" he chides, but he pulls his finger out, and slides two back in. You swear that you could come from this alone, but he doesn't let you, the hand that was supporting your lower back disappearing, only to reappear between your thighs, his thumb circling your clit with firm, steady strokes.

White hot pleasure wraps around the base of your spine, the dual sensations of his fingers and his thumb sending you spiraling. The sounds falling from your lips are unrecognizable, high and desperate as your mind goes blissfully blank, your entire focus on the heat coiling in your abdomen. Your eyebrows pinch together and you bury your face in the pillow next to your head, trying to hide the ridiculous expression you're surely making, but you inhale the traces of his shampoo and cologne that cling to the fabric, the scent pushing you even closer to the edge. 

You try to hold back. Surely you're not supposed to come this quickly, not just from two fingers and a thumb. Surely that's a sign that you're an easy lay, or too inexperienced, or-

"Just let it happen, baby. I can feel it, Just let go" Joel says, his voice cutting through the thoughts racing through your mind, his fingers crooking inside you and dragging across the spot that makes your hips stutter and a cry fall from your lips.

You can't hold back any longer, the pleasure cresting and crashing down around you. You squeeze his fingers, your back arching, the heels of your feet digging into the mattress as you roll your hips up into his touch, seeking more and more and more. And he gives and gives and gives, working you through it and drawing it out for as long as he can before you melt into the mattress, bones and muscles liquid and warm and satisfied.

He pulls his fingers out, and the sudden emptiness draws a disappointed whine from you, his answering chuckle making you smile.

"That was- fuck" you sigh, not quite capable of coherent thought.

"Absolutely mind-blowing? Yeah I know" he teases. You roll your eyes but don't say anything because it's true, and his cocky grin fades into a soft smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he watches you return to Earth. 

"Can I- can I return the favor?" you ask, your gaze flicking down to the noticeable bulge in his jeans.

He grunts and shakes his head.

"Not yet. Got somethin' else in mind."

You frown and push yourself up onto your elbows, watching as he shifts from his position. You're about to ask what he's going to do until he's settling himself on his stomach between your thighs. You suck in a sharp breath as you realize exactly what he's got planned and your heart jumps, anxiety clouding your mind once again. 

He rests his cheek on your thigh, his eyes meeting yours.

"Alright?"

You swallow and nod, licking your lips.

"Yeah. Just... no one's ever-"

"Yeah, I got that much, that's why we're here" he says, smiling smugly when you glare at him. 

"But what if it's not good? Or I don't taste good? Or-"

"Stop" he says, the single word halting your runaway train of thought. "You need lessons in relaxing, not sex. You're so fucking tense all the time"

"Sorry" you say, immediately cringing.

He sighs, his breath ghosting over the skin of your inner thigh, making you shiver. "What did I say about apologizin'?" he says, his tone slightly sharp.

"I know. Sorry- shit, sorry! Fuck!"

He barks out a laugh and you huff, bringing up both hands to scrub over your face.

"See what I mean?"

"Yes, yes, you're very smart and know everything"

He hums and nips at your thigh.

"Damn right I do."

You want to snark back, but his mouth is moving, his lips trailing down the inside of your thigh and towards where you're aching for him, slick and wet and throbbing. He takes his time, laying kisses on your thighs, hips, and stomach, his scruff scraping the sensitive skin, huffing out a laugh when you start to squirm, your patience wearing thin.

His hands smooth over the soft flesh of your inner thighs, urging you to spread them wider before spreading you open with his thumbs, exposing you completely. You feel exposed, vulnerable, and the urge to close your legs and hide yourself from his gaze is overwhelming, the embarrassment making your skin burn. But before you can even think about closing them, his tongue is on you, sliding up the length of you and circling your clit. The moan that escapes you is embarrassingly loud and high pitched, but the mortification is easily swallowed up by the pleasure.

He hums against you, the sound and the feeling sending a shudder through your body. Your hands grip the pillow behind your head and you try not to buck up into his mouth, but your attempts are futile. He doesn't seem to mind though, in fact you think it spurs him on, his tongue flattening against you and lapping at you messily, the wetness he's coaxed from you smearing across his mouth and chin.

The sound is lewd and obscene, the sloppy, slick noises and the soft grunts and groans that rumble in his chest as he works you up. He pulls back, his breath coming out in pants, his chest heaving as he looks up at you, his eyes dark and hooded.

"Don't know what you were worried about" he says, his voice low and raspy. "You taste fuckin' divine"

His beard is shiny and damp, his lips glistening, hair messy from where your fingers were tangled in it. The sight of him looking so completely disheveled and filthy has you clenching around nothing, the ache almost too much to bear.

He doesn't say anything else, just ducks his head and gets back to work, his mouth moving with a renewed urgency, his hands gripping your thighs and pushing them further apart, allowing him better access.

Your eyes roll back and your mouth falls open, a constant stream of moans and whines and babbling pleas and praises falling from your lips, but you're not really sure what you're saying, not really sure of anything except the intoxicating pleasure coursing through your veins.

You hear him moan, can feel the vibration against your skin, and you glance down at him, and that's a mistake. The sight of him, his eyes closed and brows drawn together in concentration, his cheeks hollowed out as he sucks and nips and laps at you and– is he fucking grinding his hips into the mattress?

You're fucked.

A throaty moan tumbles past your lips as your hips start to rock, a rhythm forming as you chase your orgasm. His hands leave your thighs and he slides one arm up, the weight of it resting against your abdomen to keep you still while his other hand snakes down, fingers dipping inside again, finding the spot that makes you see stars.

"Fuck, Joel, please, oh my god, I'm so- please"

He groans in response, the hand on your stomach pressing down harder to meet the two fingers curling and stroking inside of you. You cry out at the increased pressure right as he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking and swirling his tongue around the bud, his fingers moving faster and faster. Flames lick up your spine and spread throughout your body, threatening to burn you alive. 

Your orgasm hits you like a freight train, knocking the wind out of you and turning your limbs to jello. Wave after wave of blinding euphoria crashes over you and all you can do is cling to the pillow and arch your back, your toes curling as he continues to work his fingers and tongue, happily letting you ride his face and grind into his mouth.

He doesn't let up, not until you're a whimpering, trembling mess, physically pushing his head away when it becomes too much. He pulls back reluctantly, a wicked grin plastered to his face, his chin and mouth absolutely soaked. You're panting, struggling to catch your breath as the aftershocks make you shiver despite the content warmth spreading throughout your entire body.You feel sated and sleepy, a bone deep satisfaction making you feel boneless. 

But as you come down from your high, rational thoughts start to filter in and you suddenly remember the reason this all started in the first place.

You're here to learn, he should be teaching you how to please a man.

How to please him. 

You watch as he gets off the bed and wipes his chin with the back of his hand. Your eyes shamelessly rake over him, the dusty pink flush that decorates his neck and chest, the curve of his belly down to the impressive bulge in his jeans. 

You push yourself up, ignoring the way your arms tremble with the effort. He looks at you, his eyes scanning your face no doubt looking for signs of distress.

"You ok?" he asks, eyebrows pinched together in his typical concerned Joel fashion.

"Yeah" you say, a little breathlessly. "But I still want to..."

Your voice trails off and you glance down at his crotch, hoping he gets the message.

"That's alright, baby. It's a lot, we don't-"

"No" you interrupt, a hint of desperation in your voice. "You said you would teach me. Please, Joel. I-I wanna learn" You hope it's a good enough cover to the fact that you really just want him, your original goal forgotten. "I just don't want to embarrass myself" you add, pouting slightly for good measure, praying to god that he can’t detect the underlying want for him and him only.

He watches you for a moment, seemingly contemplating his decision. And then his eyes narrow, because of course he knows. There's never been an instance where you succeeded in lying to this man. He always, always knows when something is off.

"Alright" he says, a slow smile spreading across his face, something mischievous sparkling in his eyes. "Dick sucking class is now in session"

You groan, your face twisting with visible disgust.

"Oh my god, that was terrible."

"What? It's true" he says with a shrug.

"That is- no, no way. Never say those words ever again. Ever." you say, pointing a finger at him accusingly.

"Or what?" he challenges, taking a step towards the bed.

You gulp and lick your lips.

"Or..."

He waits expectantly for a response. You have none, so you just shake your head and look away.

"Yeah, that's what I thought"

You glare at him and then sigh.

"You're a bully"

"Am I?” He asks, taking a step back to give you more room. “ 'Cause you're the one that asked me to teach ya. On your knees, kid. Let's see whatcha got."

You chew on the inside of your cheek, trying to suppress a grin. You don't know how he does it, but his ability to make a joke or a quip out of anything always has a smile tugging at the corner of your lips, even when the jokes are awful and the puns are terrible. Even when the joke is about you getting ready to suck his dick. 

"You're a bully and a pervert" you say, sliding off the bed and sliding to your knees, the plush carpet doing a decent job at protecting your joints.

"And proud of it.”

"Pride is a sin."

"So is premarital sex, so I'll see you in hell, honey"

You snort and look up at him from your place on the floor, grinning widely.

"You're ridiculous"

"You love it"

And that's the thing, isn't it?

Because you do. You love his innate ability to make you laugh, to make you smile even when he's about to take your fucking virginity. He knows how to comfort you, how to put you at ease, when to push you with his teasing and when to pull back and let you take control. You've never met a person who has so effortlessly made their way into your heart.

And here you are, on your knees for him under the false pretense of practicing for a man who's name you can't even remember right now.

You shake your head, the motion clearing the thoughts and the emotions that were swirling in your head, the ones that make you want to stand up and kiss him, kiss him until your lips are numb and you're left gasping for air.

"Joel?" you say his name softly.

"Yeah, baby?"

"Teach me."

Part 2 is already in the works I promise hehehe thank you for reading I hope u all enjoy!!

#joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller one shot #joel miller fic #the last of us #tlou fic #joel miller #pedro pascal characters