Prompt 91 babyyyyy
OMG Hi Bestie
Thank you so much for sending in this suggestion! I LOVED this prompt and @1soff also shared it.
This is starring Joel and a new FMC who you'll likely be meeting soon (probably this fall?) who Joel calls Goldie. This is going to be a no-outbreak modern AU Joel romantic dramady fic. They were best friends in high school but had a falling out at the end of their senior year and went their separate ways until Goldie moves back to Austin when they're in their early 30s. This scene isn't going to be canon for their story BUT you'll at least get a taste for Joel and Goldie!
Thank you for being here! I hope you like Joel and Goldie! Love you so much!
Pick Me
You and your high school best friend, Joel Miller, reconnect after years apart.
Based on Prompt 91: “Don’t go on that date.” “Why?” “You know why.” “Say it.”
Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader (nicknamed Goldie)
Warnings: None :) No use of Y/N.
Length: 1.8K
“You’re not going to make me like this damn town,” you said, taking a drink off the flask and passing it back to Joel. Your legs were dangling over the rock toward the river below, the stars bright overhead. “Doesn’t matter how many times we try to act like teenagers breaking into the state park, it’s not going to work.”
“I’ll wear ya down,” he said, taking a drink himself. “If you’re stuck here, may as well try to enjoy it.”
You sighed, looking out at the Austin skyline as Joel handed the flask back to you. You took another drink.
This stupid fucking city held what seemed like everything bad that had ever happened to you. Your father, how your mother died, Anna’s descent into addiction that you knew was at least partially your fault.
But it also had Joel.
The one, incredibly determined bright spot that had been here even as you tried as hard as you could to run from it. Liking Austin was dangerous. Liking JOEL was dangerous.
“How’s the school treatin’ ya?” He asked after a minute.
“Pretty good, actually,” you nodded. “Better than Ohio did when I started there.”
“Fuckin’ Ohio,” Joel said, glancing at you with a sly smile on his lips. You snorted. He held out his hand. “You’re bogarting the booze, Goldie.”
“What, you think it’s yours or something?” You teased, handing the flask back.
“Unless your last name is suddenly Miller,” he teased back, tapping the engraved side of it. He took a swig. “But they got you teachin’… fuck, whatever the interesting shit is English professors get to teach?”
You laughed a little.
“Yeah,” you said. “I have 18th century British Literature which is a good one for me, anyway. Literature for writers is another one I’m liking so far. Plus some workshops. It’s mostly upperclassmen so they’re all kids who are there because they care about the subject, not just to fulfill some requirements to graduate.
“I think the school is sucking up to me a bit, though,” you said. “I picked a good time to have my life completely implode and need to job hunt. I had some good name recognition from my book. They want to try to keep me around so they’re letting me teach the cool shit instead of needing to work my way up.”
He nodded slowly and handed you the flask back. You ran your thumb over the engraving, watching his name catch the light of the moon. You took another drink.
“You’re still too smart to be hangin’ out with me,” he smiled a little. “Not arguin’, just pointin’ out some truths for you.”
“You’re still too cool to be hanging out with me,” you smiled back. “Think we’re even.”
“I was never that cool,” he replied.
“Oh I know,” you laughed. “I was just a huge fucking loser.”
He laughed at that. You handed him the flask.
Joel was sitting close to you, so close that your leg sometimes brushed his when it swung out over the water below. His hand brushed yours as he leaned back on the rock, his fingertips slipping into the gaps between your own. You took your hand back and lay down on the stone, looking up at the sky overhead.
The whiskey had set in, a pleasant buzz running over you as you watched the lights from distant planes flying overhead. You wondered idly where they were going, if the people aboard were excited for vacation or traveling for business or on their way to a funeral. You always wanted to know things like that. It was your curse, that’s what your mother had called it. That you had all these questions about how the people around you moved through the world, like you wanted to crawl inside their skin and live as them for a day, just to see what it was like to occupy the same space as another person, have their heartbeat, feel the creases in their flesh as it existed to them.
“You ever wonder what would have happened if you’d stayed here after high school?” Joel asked. You looked over at him. He took another drink. “Gone to UT and shit instead of runnin’ off to Columbia?”
“All the time,” you replied. “But I think about a lot of different versions of myself. In some alternate universe there’s a me who went to Iowa for undergrad and never met fucking Brad…”
“Fuckin’ Brad,” Joel echoed. You looked up at him and caught a glimpse of his smile.
“There’s another one who moved to London and never went to college,” you said. “She’s just waiting tables and writing shitty poems in an apartment she shares with three other people. But she’s pretty happy there, so good on her I guess.”
Joel paused before looking down at you.
“The version who stayed?” He asked.
You sighed.
“I’m really not sure,” you said. “I’m sure we would have stayed friends the whole time instead of falling out of touch…”
“We weren’t talkin’ when you left,” he said.
“I know,” you sighed. “But I think we’d have moved past that pretty quick if we were in the same damn city.”
“Makes sense,” he agreed after a moment.
“I’m not sure about her beyond that, though,” you said after a moment of quiet.
He was quiet but lay down next to you on the rock, looking up at the stars. His body was warm, even from a few inches away.
“Missed you, you know,” he said, turning his head to look at you.
“Missed you, too,” you said, smiling a little back at him before looking back at the stars again. “You know, more than I think about staying here, I wonder what would have happened if we’d never… you know. If we’d just stayed friends.”
“Yeah?” He said. His eyes were still on you, you could feel him watching you. “What do you think would’ve happened?”
“I wouldn’t have married fuckin’ Brad,” you laughed. “You’d have seen right through his shit and talked me out of that one real quick.”
He snorted.
“I only met the guy once but he was a fuckin’ dick,” he said.
“See?” You smiled. “I needed someone to point that out to me, I couldn’t see him for what he was. I needed someone who could.”
“I probably wouldn’t have Sarah,” you heard him frown then. “Shit, that’s weird to think about… I doubt I’d have gone to the bar and hooked up with her mom that night if we’d still been friends.”
“That whole ripple effect thing,” you sighed. “Change one thing and the whole world shifts. But assuming you would still have Sarah - that girl is inevitable, you cannot deny her. She’d will herself into existence if you weren’t there to help her along - what would be different for you?”
He laughed a little and then sighed.
“Might have actually done the community college thing,” he shrugged. “You would have been on my ass about it until I fuckin’ enrolled…”
“Damn right I would’ve,” you replied.
“I’d probably have just flunked out though,” he said. “Then I’d have a bunch of loans and nothin’ to show for it.”
“Damn,” you sighed but smiled slightly, turning your head to look at him. “Who knew I’d be such a bad influence on you.”
“Nah,” he smiled. “My mom’s never wrong about that shit and she liked you. It’d be good.”
“Oh, well, if I had Mrs. Miller’s blessing…” you teased.
You just lay there, looking at each other for a bit, the rock cool below you, the river drowning out the sounds of the city that lay just out of reach on the horizon. There was a knot in your stomach when you looked at Joel for too long, something that seemed to want to dig into you, something that had lingered whenever he came to mind for years.
“Oh hey,” you said, desperate to have something else to talk about. “How did your date go the other night? The one girl you were doubling with Tommy and Maria with?”
“Oh,” Joel paused for a moment. “It was fine, I guess, but we didn’t really… I dunno, click or whatever the fuck you wanna call it. We’re not goin’ out again.”
“She was that bad in bed, eh?” You teased. Even in the dark you caught his frown.
“Wouldn’t know,” he said. “Didn’t fuck her.”
“Really?” You frowned a bit, surprised. “Well, good for you.”
“Feel like you’re implyin’ somethin’ about my dating history, Goldie,” he smiled a little.
“Just that you’re good at charming the pants off your dates,” you smiled back. “Which I’d think most men would take as a compliment.”
“Yeah, well,” he shrugged, going quiet again.
He was so close to you, so close it felt dangerous.
“Still talkin’ to that one guy?” Joel asked. “What’s his name?”
“Eric?” You asked. “The guy whose texts I showed you to see if you thought he was a whack job?”
“That’s the one,” Joel laughed a little.
“Yeah, actually,” you smiled a bit. “We’re going out this weekend, some concert he wants to see. Who cares as long as it gets me out of my damn apartment…”
“Don’t go on that date,” Joel cut you off.
“Why?” You breathed, your heart pounding against your ribs. The sad, homesick longing you’d had for him for what felt like your entire life was sharp and hot inside your stomach.
“You know why.”
“Say it.”
“I love you, Goldie,” he said, looking at you so intently that you could feel it in your blood. “I’ve loved you since were fuckin’ 16 years old and…”
“Don’t do this to me, Joel,” your voice broke as you said it. “Don’t treat me like one of the girls you date where you say whatever it is you say to them to get them into bed…”
“You think that’s what this is?” He rolled onto his side so he was looking down at you, his body just inches from your own. “That any of that shit wasn’t to make up for not havin’ you when you left?”
“That’s not…” you began but he cut you off.
“You’re it for me,” he said. “Knew it when we were 16 years old, knew it on prom night, knew it the day you left town.
“Don’t go out with that fuckin’ guy. He seems… fine. He does, Goldie. He seems better than fuckin’ Brad but Jesus, you deserve so much better than fine. Let me try to be somethin’ close to what you deserve. Don’t go on that date.”
“Joel,” you breathed.
“Don’t go on that date.”
“I won’t,” you said softly. “I’ll…”
And, for the first time in 14 years, your best friend kissed you, his hand slipping around to the back of your head, pulling your face closer to his own as his lips met yours all soft and sweet. It left you breathless when he pulled away.
“Good,” he said. “That’s… good."
"Yeah," you said. "I think it is."
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