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okay so i will admit most of this went down on pitt twitter and i only lurk there i don't really tweet or anything but this lovely post by @hatosyscurls details what happened
basically this white author wrote a stereotypical latina character (jack's dead wife) and when she was called out for it blocked (and potentially harassed people according to other users here and here - open the threads)
i never talked to emily i don't know what kind of person she is in real life, but it seems like this is a classic case of a person showing problematic behaviour (racially biased writing) and rather than reflecting and correcting, instead ignored the problem. and when that didn’t solve anything it just erased and deflected instead of doing the work to unpack her bias.
i never acc read the fic when it was being published on ao3 but now that it's a book and knowing her past with stereotypes i want to read it as a desi woman to see how she writes samira because lord knows i have very low hopes (i get samira being a virgin is the whole point™️ of the story but it really feels like we're going to get some bad racial stereotypes about nerdy indian women or some shit)
(the stuff below this is going more into a personal rant about the publishing industry so feel free to ignore)
the romance industry is so fucking annoying these days. i like romance books and yet like80% of the shit posted post 2020 is just fanfic slop (obviously i am not shitting on fanfic lets be so explicitly clear rn) - stories that were good as fanfiction because they were fanfiction but once you try to sever the original story it doesn't stand alone.
like this is how the book is marketed from emily's own instagram/website
samira to AMARA
it's like she picked the first vaguely brown name and went "good enough"
this is literally mohabbot - not vaugley mohabbot, not "mohabbot but with a twist" just mohabbot
doctors
age gap
army vet
workaholics doctors - couldn't even make them veterinarians to give some distance
still not sure if this is official book art or if she just reposted mohabbot fan art and then got told by her team to take it down but this was on her website for a while
One hundred fifty thousand dollars. That’s how much debt your dad is in. Determined to free you both, you fight for the one attending position offered to senior residents at the Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center. Your stubborn, competitive streak flares out, especially when your competition is just as fierce as you.
Jack Abbot needs that job, and he really doesn’t have a choice. Pittsburgh is the only place for him, and he’s willing to do anything. That much is clear with just how much he is neck-and-neck with you, and how he's willing to do anything. But what he doesn’t like is the woman who makes his life hell—is just as smart—and unimpressed by him.
Young and hungry, both you and he fight tooth-and-nail, snipping at each other’s heels. But hate is just as intense as love, and with both of you walking on the edge of its line, you might just learn how similar you both are.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Welcome! If your here, then your going to be joining my taglist for Outscore. It's a very, very simple process. Just put in your Tumblr @, a
Jack Abbot's turn to shine on this blog is here! I have plans to post the offical masterlist today (perhaps) and maybe even a little bit of a surprise...
Later, I'll explain how my new publishing schedule. Until then, join the masterlist!!
blurb - New Year’s Eve is a time when the whole world is on the cusp of change. You could say that you’re a changing woman, and Joel is a changing man. As you both make your way to help bring in the new year, you must decide if 2004 will be the year of you and him… together.
warnings - Brief description of a drunk parent. Discussions about past abuse, getting help, and relationships (good and bad).
Word Count: 21.5 k
December 31st, 1977
“And what’re y’all’s New Year resolutions?”
“Rev… revolut… revolutions?” Tommy tried.
That earned him a smack on the shoulder from his older brother, who sat cross-legged with his back against the couch, “It’s resolutions.”
“I said that!” The youngest Miller pushed back at Joel with all the might his eight-year-old body could muster. It only managed to teeter Joel enough to need his hand to hold him up, but it sent the message, “Stop bein’ such a know-it-all!”
“Stop bein’ a dummy!”
“You’re so ugly, Joel! No wonder Dad has to help you wash your face every night. You already have pimples like the teenagers.”
“You’re so fat, Tommy! That’s why Mama didn’t bake any of her cookies. She knows you’ll eat ‘em all ‘fore the end of the first day next year!”
“Take that back!”
“No, you do! You started it!”
You watched the two start to tumble with each other, throwing their weak fists at each other’s sides. You were perched far away from their drama, comfortable in your red dress on your daddy’s lap. He was sitting in his usual armchair that he always reserved in the Miller household. He laughed.
“Thank the Lord I don’t got any boys. See how they fight, Sugar Cubes?” He asked, pinching your cheek.
You raised an eyebrow when you saw Tommy trying to bite Joel’s foot. “They get so mad so fast.”
“Exactly. You ain’t as… unruly with your temper like ‘em,” Cooing over you, hugging you tight, even rocking you back and forth, “You just scream my ear off and I give you what you want”
Grinning wide, you clambered up higher on your daddy’s chest, “Like the toys I got at Christmas.”
“Like the toys you got at Christmas.” He parroted back to you.
All of your major holidays were spent at your house, usually. You always looked forward to it, dressing up all the rooms with decorations that matched the holiday. You and your mama would spend hours doing so. She’d hold you strong and rock you against her chest while she explained how she got a certain decoration.
Though, this year was different.
This year, the house was decorated, but your mama didn’t hold you. No, you followed her around as she held onto her fancy glass—the one only used when Auntie Lo brought her famous punch—and filled it up with the red water. She had lazily thrown around Christmas and New Year’s decorations, not bothering to fuss over them like she used to.
Your daddy and her got into a fight. A big one where he was suddenly screaming that he and you were spending Christmas and New Year’s at the Millers.
She had huffed, and barely able to stand up straight, slurred out something along the lines that she could finally drink in peace with you two gone.
So, you and your daddy had slept over for two days before Christmas. And for the winter holiday. And for the days following until today. You and him had set up camp in the Miller living room. Well, your daddy slept on the couch. Tommy and you shared a bed.
You smacked your daddy’s shoulder, suddenly filled with a big thought, “I have to tell you my… my resolution.”
“That’s right, you do. Tell me, Sugar Cubes, what’s your—boys, stop tusslin’ ‘round in your mama’s livin’ room, and do it outside!—New Year’s resolution? Hm?”
Ignoring the Miller brothers nearly strangling each other behind the couch; only the tops of their heads showing, you thought about it briefly. “Well, I wanna go to the ice cream.”
“We already go all the time.”
“I know.” You poked your daddy’s cheek. “But I wanna eat ice cream when it's cold outside.”
“Sugar Cubes,” Your daddy said carefully as if he didn’t want to break your heart, “It’s a goal you’re gonna reach. Like… like you’re gonna read thirty books by the end of the year. Or—or tryin’ somethin’ new, like fried onion rings.”
“But I am! Ice cream in the cold.”
“That ain’t really—” But when he looked at your pouty expression, how soft your eyes had gone and how you looked at him like he was the most important man in the world, he broke, “—y’know, what the hell. Yeah, ice cream in the cold, that’s gonna be our New Year’s resolution.”
“Yeah?” You asked with anticipation.
“Hell yeah! I’ll go get you your favorite flavor while I get my rum raisin with mint chocolate—”
You wrinkled your nose.
“—and I’ll make sure it’ll be the coldest day all year.”
“Promise? You jutted out your pinky.
He wrapped his much larger, rough, and worn pinky against your smaller and smoother one. “With my life.” Your daddy then ruffled your hair and kissed your forehead so many times you giggled and fought him off.
The noise seemed to call Tommy, who had Joel pinned underneath him. “I wanna know the promise!” He jumped up from his brother’s limp form and ran over to the chair. He clambered onto the armrest and fell into your daddy’s other arm with an oof!
“Well,” Your daddy readjusted so both of you would be snug, “Me and Sugar Cubes here said that we’d have ice cream on the coldest day of the year.”
“Oh! I know what my revolution is.”
“Resolution, Tommy.”
“Shut up, Joel!” Tommy whipped his head around, probably to stick out his tongue at his brother. When he looked back, he was smug. “For my resolution, I’mma build my own house.”
“Ah, I see.” Your daddy nodded along.
“Mhm. And it’s gonna be in my backyard, right next to the shed. Then, me and her will be able to hide there from… from Joel.” He whispered that last part.
“I can still hear you,” Joel came padding over. You noticed he had on ridiculous socks; little reindeers with fake horns that flopped around, and red buttons on his big toes. He stood right by the chair, and somehow, your daddy managed to scoop him up with a grunt, placing him right next to you.
Joel’s whole big, ten-year-old body came to squish you harder against your daddy’s chest. Joel held himself up mostly, but he still made little noises and held himself a bit of distance from you, choosing to sit closer to your daddy’s knees.
“Tell me, son.” Your daddy looked at Joel, amused. “What’s your revolution?”
Tommy giggled while Joel rolled his eyes. Then, he looked down at his fidgeting hands. “I wanna bake somethin’. Like cookies.”
Your daddy’s face softened. “That’s perfect, Joel. What would ya make?”
At the encouragement, Joel’s eyes lit up. “Chocolate chip. That’s what my mama makes outta her cookbook, so I wanna see if I can make it too.”
“I’m sure you can. In fact,” Your daddy peered over Tommy’s head, then came close. The three of you leaned in close to hear his hushed words, “I’m sure whatever you make you’ll be way better than Lo’s cookies, but don’t tell her though.”
Three sources of giggles rang throughout the room. You and Tommy knocked shoulders together while Joel tilted his head back as his shoulders shook. Your daddy soaked it all in, trying to hug all of you, his own laughter booming through it all.
Your daddy just knew how to make people laugh. Even though your mama hadn’t been nice to him at all, he still kept a smile on his face and made sure that you could enjoy everything as well. You hoped you were that person for him too.
“Now, why do we have four people laughin’ up a storm over here!”
Lifting your head, you gasped. Your Auntie Lo was standing in the entryway to the hallway that led to her bedroom. She wore a dress way different than anything that you had seen her in; it was red, like yours, but way more form-fitting. It was the typical length, around mid-calf, but the fiery red lipstick she wore made her look so much bolder.
Joel and Tommy sprang up from your daddy’s lap, running to their mama and hugging her tight. She squealed as they moved around her, asking a million things.
Your daddy ran his hand over your back and murmured something about resting on his chest. You listened so the sad feeling wouldn’t come back. He had noticed it before you had.
His chin was tucked right over your head, but you couldn’t stop staring. Uncle Ray also walked out soon, a matching red flannel that surely Auntie Lo forced him to wear. He picked up Tommy and ruffled his hair before he looked over to Joel and started threatening to do the same. Joel ran in the opposite direction, and unlike anything you had seen before, Uncle Ray actually chased him.
Three Miller boys running around while a Miller woman laughed the whole time.
You felt like you were sitting in the audience of a play. Unable to join the stage but wanting to do so, so bad.
You then realized you missed your mama.
Auntie Lo—just like your daddy—must have been able to sense emotions, because her eyes locked onto you and they softened beyond measure. She weaved through her boys, and her heels clicked, clicked, clicked all the way over to you. She then took a squat so that she was eye level.
“Well, honey,” She said in that sweet tang of hers, “I see we’re the only two matchin’.”
You blinked, looking up to Uncle Ray who had caught Joel, “I thought you and Uncle Ray were matching.”
“If you ask me,” Auntie Lo whispered, “He ain’t doin’ a good job. See, I had ‘nother shirt ready for him to wear, but he got sauce all over it! That’s why we were gone for long! I was lecturin’ him and makin’ sure he’d pay for it. So that shirt you’re seein’, ain’t the one to match me. But me and you… well, we girls got the memo, didn’t we?”
Unable to hold it in, your face lit up. You lifted your head from your daddy’s chest. “We did, Auntie Lo.”
She reached out her hands to you, and you did the same. She picked you up—even though you were a big girl—and placed you on her hip like nothing changed. Your daddy just laughed the whole time and reached for the remote, turning it on and thumbing through the channels to find the ball drop all the way in New York.
Auntie Lo gracefully made her way into the kitchen, the area dark. She didn’t turn on any lights, but still sat you down on the counter. The noises from the rest of the house seemed to fade away, leaving just you and her.
Your eyes felt heavy, but you blinked to stay awake—you swore to your daddy that you would stay up long enough to watch the ball drop—and could see all the food on the island. Cakes and hams and everything you could imagine lay before you.
Swinging your legs, you waited for her. She picked up a large platter of chocolate cookies and placed it right next to you. You and her picked up your own and started eating. Your smile was so wide it threatened to crack your face.
Auntie Lo wiped a crumb from your lip with her thumb. “Don’t y’think it's nice, havin’ some girl time? That way, we won’t be caught up in all their… rowdiness.”
You giggled, “I like that.”
She smiled small, “That’s perfect.”
You and Auntie Lo ate a bit longer in a shared silence. You didn’t need to say anything to enjoy spending time with her. You didn’t need to chase her.
She was so different from your mama. When she drank the fancy red water, she didn’t get mean. In fact, she got way more cuddly, kissing all the kids a whole lot more and ruffling your daddy’s hair. She even made Uncle Ray turn bright red and shy with how bold she talked.
She didn’t become mean, or rude, or cold and then regret it hours later. She was kind the whole time.
Outside of that, she was the perfect mama. She always woke up Tommy and Joel for school, made their lunches, and was there to pick them up from school. She made breakfast, lunch, and dinner, even sneaking in a nice dessert. She bought everything new.
You knew all this because Tommy wouldn’t stop rambling about it. It was the one thing you couldn’t talk about with him, because what would you say about your own mama?
Auntie Lo caught how you stared at her in wonder. She giggled, sticking out the tip of her tongue, “What’cha thinkin’ ‘bout? My newly waxed tiles? Did Tommy kick ya way too hard last night and it scrambled your brain?”
For some reason, honesty is what took over your mind.
“Sometimes, I wish I was your daughter, Auntie Lo.”
Unlike the comfortable silence that you and her shared a minute ago, this time she looked at you like you were a lost kitten. Her eyes darted over your face, going wide and soft and oh-so sad, as if her heart might break right then and there.
You didn’t get it. You were speaking the truth. It was only sometimes you felt like that.
“Why… why do you feel like that, sweet girl?” She asked carefully. She put her cookie down and placed a hand on your knee.
You shrugged, “My mama doesn’t hang out with me anymore. She likes to sit on the couch and watch TV and drink red water.”
“I… I didn’t know you were seein’ all that.”
“I see everything.”
“‘Course you do.” She murmured while brushing your hair off your face. The praise made you smile harder. “You’re a smart girl, after all.”
“Thanks, Auntie—”
“And if I could, I would take you in.”
You blinked at her. “What?”
Her arms came to wrap around you. She hugged you tight, face buried in your hair. Your chin was leaning against the crook of her shoulder and neck, and you could smell her perfume. Lavender with a hint of rose, something Uncle Ray probably got her.
“You’re my son’s other half. Like a twin. I see you as one, honey.” She confessed, “Every time you two match, every time you come down the stairs hand in hand, I feel like I carried you both. And seein’ you so sad… oh, I would snatch you up, keep you, and give you everythin’ you want.
“But you got good thin’s too. Look at your daddy, he tries real hard for you. I know you don’t see all the good ‘cause it’s covered with the bad, but it's there. Your home is yours, but this place will always be open to you and him. Even your mama. All of you are my family.”
“Really?”
She pulled back, and her eyes were wet. She looked up and padded her fingers underneath her eyes to keep the tears away. “You’re my daughter, always and forever. The one I could never ha—” Auntie Lo stopped herself from continuing. Instead, she shook her head and left a red kiss mark on your forehead. “How ‘bout you go get Uncle Ray for me, hm? You go play with Tommy and Joel.”
You wanted to say more, but she had already pulled you off the counter and placed you on the ground. She let you take your cookie and ushered you out. You were scrambled, replaying her words over and over in your head.
In a daze, you entered the living room, nearly running into Tommy. He was running in circles, but clung to you once he spotted your cookie.
He gasped dramatically, “I thought there weren’t any more chocolate cookies! I want it.”
You pushed him off, walking away. “It’s mine, get your own!” You turned away, huffing and marching toward Uncle Ray, who was in deep conversation with your daddy as they stood right in front of the TV, Joel in between them. “Uncle Ray, Auntie Lo wants you.”
He peered down at you, raising his eyebrows. “What for?”
“I don’t know, she just asked for you.” You said while snacking on your cookie.
Uncle Ray’s eyes widened bigger than you ever saw them. He looked over to your daddy, “Y’think… y’think she’s still mad at me for the shirt?”
Your daddy had never rolled his eyes so hard. He gave his best friend a hard shove on the shoulder, who muttered worried words to himself as he trudged over to the kitchen. That left you, Joel, Tommy, and your daddy all alone in the living room.
Though it didn’t last long. Your daddy looked around and promptly announced that the bathroom needed his presence. You all let out a chorus of ‘ews’ and ‘yucks’ while he laughed as he had never said anything funnier.
While he left, you turned your face to the ball. There were six more minutes until midnight, meaning that 1978 was coming around. You and Tommy would be nine, then. You wondered for a bit what nine-year-olds did before they turned double digits.
You looked over to Joel, who was flicking the red balls on his toes, and you scrunched your nose in distaste.
Suddenly, ten seemed like a very boring age to be.
You brought your attention back to Tommy, who was pouting right next to you for your cookie. Sighing, you broke off a piece and made a gesture. He grinned wide and opened his mouth, and you fed it to him.
Tommy—with his mouth full—came to hug you tight. “I’ll give you some of my food, deal?”
“No, you won’t.” You said but held on to him regardless.
“I will! I promise, just like your daddy did with you.”
You squinted in disbelief, but then remembered what Auntie Lo had said. You and Tommy were like twins. You practically were. And you knew that family always kept promises, so…
“Fine!” You rolled your eyes just like your daddy did. You took his hand and went to the TV, sitting cross-legged in front of the screen with Tommy nuzzled by your side. “Just watch the countdown with me.”
He marveled at the big numbers that counted down right before his eyes. Tommy then snapped his eyes behind you, and smiled. “Joel! C’mon, don’t be a stranger and come over!”
You didn’t need to turn to feel Joel nervously scooting closer and closer to your right side. All three of you watched the program, the view flicking from the crowd of people to the ball back to the crowd.
When you did look over, you saw he wasn’t looking at the TV. Joel was looking at the side of your face.
“Do I have crumbs?” You asked.
“Yeah.” He said. He took the edge of his sleeve and roughly wiped your mouth. You leaned toward him, letting him even hold the back of your head to keep you still. “There, all clean.”
“Look!” Tommy pointed to the screen, “Two more minutes. Where’s Mama and Dad, Joel? They’re gonna miss it.”
“My daddy too.” You added.
“Well, gettin’ your daddy outta the bathroom is a very hard thin’ to do, so I think we won’t have much luck there…” Tommy jested, but you still jabbed him in the shoulder with your fist.
“Mama and Dad are talkin’. Ground folk business.” Joel said with a responsible tone. “We can’t interrupt.”
You and Tommy glanced at each other with a wordless, ‘Is he serious?’ then shrugged. “Then we won’t interrupt.” You stated.
You both shot up at the same time and started making your way to the kitchen, with Joel following and blurting out all the reasons why you shouldn’t be going over.
Joel was such a rule follower! He never did anything that went against what was set in place. That’s why you were best friends with Tommy. Well, that and the fact you were his twin, so Joel was gonna lose either way.
Three sets of feet pattered toward the wall that separated the living room and kitchen. Tommy was closest to the entryway, with you pressed along his back to see if you could hear anything. Joel pretended not to be interested, but you felt his hand on your back, leaning in as well.
“Oh, Raymond! Don’t talk like that,” Auntie Lo’s voice echoed through the open door, “Just ‘cause you made me feel better doesn’t mean I’ll entertain all your jokes.”
“I’m just makin’ you laugh, honey.”
“Make me laugh ‘nother way.”
There was a short, wet smack! noise. Auntie Lo gasped.
“You dog! The children are in the other room!”
“They’re too consumed by the TV. As much as it annoys me that they sit in front of it all the time, it does mean for a great distraction…”
The wet smacks came back, in longer strands now. This time, Auntie Lo didn’t seem too offended. Tommy looked over to you with a worried expression.
“The countdown…” He whined, but Joel leaned over you harder to hiss at his brother.
“Shush! I can’t hear…”
“You’re just as nosy as us.” You inserted, squished between two Miller brothers.
“You’re even louder.” Joel bit back.
You were about to say something when Tommy’s hand repeatedly smacked your knee, telling you to lower your voice. You listened and went back to being silent and keeping your ears turned toward the kitchen.
“Watch ‘em—oh Raymond—hands!” Auntie Lo squeaked. Then, the clatter of whatever belonged in kitchens made itself known, along with a grunt from Uncle Ray. “I didn’t know you could still pick me up.”
“Don’t insult my strength. Runnin’ after those kids makes for great exercise.”
More smacks continued. “Speakin’ of kids… when they’re all asleep—includin’ Clyde, ‘course—I wanna ring in the New Year with you.”
“And what do you suggest we do?”
A hum floated out that crackled at the end. “Well… I don’t know if you remember this… but I seem to recall that one time when you used that belt of yours to—”
“Jesus Christ, what the hell is goin’ on out here?”
A lot of things happened at once.
Firstly, the shocked voice came from your daddy, who had just finished using the bathroom and was now curiously staring down at the gang of children listening around the corner.
Second, that said voice scared Joel so badly, he jumped up into the air. Of course, though, he had to move forward in his air time, landing straight on you. The back of your head knocked with his chest, earning a weird noise from you. That wasn’t all, as Joel’s now-falling body made your feet slip and topple over Tommy.
Third, it was three children falling straight into the entryway of the kitchen, which left you completely exposed. The pile of wiggly and groaning kids, with knees and elbows jamming into each other, made a commotion. Your face was buried in Tommy’s hair, but you lifted your head to glare back at Joel.
But on the way there…
Then, there was a scream, from both you and Tommy, in fact. So loud and high-pitched that your daddy and Joel yelped.
Because in the kitchen, Auntie Lo was perched up on the edge of the counter with her dress almost completely pushed up, and Uncle Ray’s hand had disappeared underneath it. Both of them looked like deer in headlights, frozen on the spot.
Tommy suddenly was thrashing around the most, using his hands to try and get you and Joel off his back, “Get off me! Ew, ew, ew!”
“What’s goin’ on?!” Joel questioned. When he looked over, he went eerily still. “Mama…? Dad…?”
“Oh my—oh my Lord ‘bove!” Auntie Lo screamed out loud. Even in the shadows, you could see her face turn a bright red. “The children! They—they heard—strike me down now, please Lord!”
“What the fu—” Your daddy stepped over to look, only to freeze too. He saw what you three saw as well, which was not a very friendly scene to look upon on New Year’s Eve. Your daddy backed away, hands lifted, “Seriously, you two?! Right now is when you gotta do this?!”
“Get out!” Uncle Ray thundered, but even that couldn’t stop all four people from staring at him and his wife.
Auntie Lo fought off her husband, but there was a clear conflict of interest, as at the same time, he tried to keep them both decent.
“Off! Get off me, Miller!”
“Your dress, honey—my belt!”
“Screw the dress! You’re too close—!”
“Wait—”
“Off, now!”
Finally, the worst part came when she pressed her hands on his chest, and with a great shove, pushed Uncle Ray straight off her. But because of her freshly waxed floor, he couldn’t find his footing. Uncle Ray slipped and fell backwards, arms waving like a rag doll.
And with one socked foot stuck up in the air, the back of his head fell onto the tiles with a sickening crack!
Five gasps escaped five mouths, and one long string of groans exited Uncle Ray. He clenched the back of his head with both hands, rolling side-to-side, and his eyes squeezed shut.
Almost immediately, your daddy jumped over you, Tommy, and Joel, while Auntie Lo scrambled from the counter, fixing her dress as she fell onto her knees to rush to her husband’s side.
“Three!”
“Raymond!” Auntie Lo cried out, gripping onto Uncle Ray’s shoulder to hold him still. “I’m so sorry! Baby, I didn’t mean to hurt you!”
“It’s… it’s ‘kay…”
“Are you okay?! Are you?!”
“Two!”
“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, you two, what were you thinkin’?!” Your daddy tried to help Uncle Ray’s up, but it only resulted in groans.
“Fuck—the lights, Clyde… turn ‘em off.”
“What lights?!” A nervous noise left your daddy’s mouth. He whipped his head around, noticing the kitchen lights were off, but the living room lights weren’t. “Oh shit, you might be concussed—”
“Concussed?!” Auntie Lo screamed.
“One!”
“It’s your fault!” You hissed to Joel, who had managed to get off you so you could breathe properly. “Why did you jump like that?!”
“‘Cause I got scared! Why did you make such a scene?!” Joel directed his attention to his brother.
“Mama and Dad were kissin’ too much, and his hand was gone! ‘Course I screamed!” Tommy glared at you now, “Why did you crush me?!”
All three of you huffed, staring each other down.
And through it all, New York City’s great ball suddenly dropped, and cheers echoed through the speakers that took over the entire room:
“Happy New Year’s!”
❛ ━━━━･❪ 🎕 ❫ ･━━━━ ❜
“Slowing down, Miller?”
You whipped your head around, arching your eyebrow at the sight of Joel huffing behind you, the air puffing around his mouth and floating up into the air. His glasses were slightly askew, and his scarf was looped high up his neck. A smile slipped onto your lips.
Joel huffed, twitching his pink nose. “Let’s not say too much now. I’m the one carryin’ the confetti.”
“And I’m the one guiding us, so pick up the pace.”
You turned on your heel, boots clicking as you turned before you could reach the building door, heading into the alleyway instead. Joel made a small noise, but despite the clear hesitation you could hear, he ended up following. The lights from the city blocked out, the darkness of the night floating down between the brick walls.
A fire escape on the left of the alleyway wound up, slick with ice but the only way up. You had taken this path for the past nine years, hauling up the box yourself with no help. Surely you could manage this year.
The first ladder was already unlocked, brought down by probably some rowdy teenagers who were trying to enjoy some New Year’s Eve fun. You gripped the handles, the cold still seeping through your glove’s fabric.
You took the first flight, leading both you and Joel up higher to the first landing. You kept your eyes on the man behind you. Joel had no issue finding his way up, propping the box on his hip and using one hand to steady himself.
“Need help?” You offered, rounding to make your way to the next set of stairs.
Joel shook his head, “No, no. I got it.”
“I could carry it one flight, you the next.” You placed one foot on the first step of this new ladder, but you waited.
He tilted his head back as he made it onto the same landing as you. He even groaned slightly, stretching his back like he was already tired. His eyes met yours, and even through the glare and shadows, you could see the darkness in them.
“Sweetheart… walk up ‘em steps.” He murmured, “There ain’t anythin’ you gotta worry ‘bout.”
You swallowed, trying not to feel everything he was saying to you wordlessly through his eyes. You could only nod, leaving him to keep up.
Snow fluttered onto your skin as you crawled higher and higher, as the lights became smaller and smaller. The noises also disappeared slowly, leaving only your and Joel’s footsteps ringing through the alleyway.
You, then Joel.
One, then another.
Soon, the rooftop revealed itself, a familiar place you had only seen with snow covering everything. You were sure this was where the employees met up, with two small tables you were sure were from a free garage sale and different colored and styled chairs.
There was only a small concrete railing surrounding the roof, forcing you to lift yourself up and over with a small grunt as you made it to the other side. The snow crunched underneath your boots as you made it further from the fire escape, until you made it to the other side.
You placed your hands back onto the wall, this time breathing in, then out, as the cold air took over you.
From this angle, it was a clear sight of the crowd down below. It was deafening, their cries and cheers, waiting for the ball to drop. Colors of every side and possibility lit up the night and the building. Each billboard had everything for the next year, all the companies trying their best to get into everyone’s face.
Your hair brushed against your cheeks, and you grinned at that. You stood at this very spot, year after year by yourself alone, making everyone’s New Year's a little bit more magical—at least, you hoped so.
Leaving New York six months ago, the one thing that pained your heart more than the humiliation was the thought of leaving this tradition behind. It was one of the few things you did for yourself that wasn’t in service to others. Rather, it was to fill the space inside of you that had been made empty by the constant loneliness you preferred in those thirteen years.
You had never been happier to be back.
Suddenly, behind you, the box fell with a soft thump. When you looked to your right, you saw Joel right next to you. He too was taking in the view, everything they had to offer. The lights caught his glasses and played like a kaleidoscope. You watched his awe until he looked back at you.
“What?” He played with the end threads of his scarf a bit like he was nervous. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m just shocked seeing so many people excited for New Year's.”
“Well, the city of New York does have a population of around eight million.” You retorted. “I’m sure that’s a bit more than the usual handful of Millers that you cheer for every year. Also, humor me real quick; How long do we have?”
He flicked his wrist to check his watch. Joel whistled, “Thirteen minutes to spare.” His hand then went to rest on the railing. “Yeah, the family don’t really get excited like this, not anymore. There’s been too many kids and babies to keep track of. ‘Cept my dad and mama. They’re two people we gotta control when the ball drops.”
You chuckled, slipping into the past easily, “I think we were… eight and ten, maybe? Either way, remember when we had the countdown on the TV at your place, with my dad off somewhere. Your parents had disappeared, while we had a minute left.”
Joel laughed out loud, tilting his head back as his voice boomed out, “I do remember. All three of us wanted them to be right by our sides when the ball dropped, so we scurried ‘round the house lookin’ for ‘em, only to not only miss it, but find ‘em makin’ out in your kitchen.”
“Ugh!” You tried to blink the memory away of Raymond and Lorraine Miller locked at the mouth, with her being pressed up on the counter and his hands wandering way too low for it to be simply friendly. “I could live a whole lifetime without seeing that.”
“They were actin’ more like teenagers than we did.”
“God, this is making me think about our parents when they were young. Do you think they enjoyed… being rowdy?”
“Rowdy’s the word you’re usin’?”
“Well, do you have a better one?”
“I’d say… improper.” Joel supplemented, “I don’t think my Mama or Dad were drinkin’ and smokin’ their brains rotten when they were sixteen.”
“Hey, you never know. Anyone’s parents could have lived a double life. You think Sarah would believe you if I told her half the shit that happened to us when we were her age?”
“She’d laugh in our faces, that’s for sure.”
You both laughed at that, imagining Sarah pointing in both your faces and clenching her stomach as she rolled around on her bed in disbelief. It was moments like these that you missed her. Those moments when you knew her face-to-face were sparse but strong. And she had plagued your life just as much as her daddy did, even if you didn’t want to admit it.
In fact, a lot of people haunted your life. Raymond and Lorraine and all the times you hadn’t called them. Tommy and how many times you could have gone home when he wasn’t deployed. Your daddy and all the time you could have spent with him before his tumor became too much. Even your mama- maybe you would’ve found the courage sooner and talked to her.
Rather, all of them had one thing in common: the number of holidays you could have had with them. Thirteen years of it, all gone.
Now, going fourteen.
“Don’t worry, they're all havin’ fun.” Joel studied your face, frowning when you went quiet. Of course, he had read your mind. “They were all makin’ way too much noise while we talked to your daddy.”
“Oh, I know they’re fine!” You waved your hand to brush him off. “It’s just… it’s just another year I haven’t been celebrating with everyone. It was one of the few things I was actually excited about when I went back to Austin in May. Though… I can appreciate the tradition I’m used to.”
Joel hummed, looking over the streets filled with people. “Guess you get both this year.”
You looked back at him, “What?”
He shrugged, “You got me, and you got the city. I know I ain’t… well, I ain’t exactly all you wished for. I’m sure I can’t replace what bein’ with your daddy, and everyone else feels like. But… but it is me.”
“And I’m thankful for that.” You placed a hand on his bicep. “Don’t think for a second that I would rather have anyone else with me on this rooftop. We wouldn’t even be here without you, Joel.”
“As I told you many times, this ain’t somethin’ huge I did.”
“I’m sure everyone could get a meeting with Treb Heining.” You said, dripping with sarcasm.
“Actually—”
“I was joking, Joel.”
You turned around, leaning your ass against the wall. The snow wasn’t blowing in your face, but it did push your hair to the side. Joel mimicked your movements and took the spot closest to you, with only the box between both you and him.
You nodded, “I like coming in early. It’s always loud, but… but it’s nice.”
“You like it? The noise I mean?”
You smiled, “You would think it’s chaotic or something, but really—this is going to sound stupidly poetic—watching others just have fun makes it so much more enjoyable.”
“Even if you ain’t a part of it.”
“What could I do about it?” You just shrugged, “It’s how I was. Kinda a loner.”
Joel didn’t answer. When you glanced back up at him, his eyebrows were furrowed as he looked down at the crowd. He looked concentrated on all the happiness being centered into one place.
“I was too.”
You turned to him, “It’s—”
“Don’t say it’s different.” He shook his head. “It ain’t and y’know it.”
“Isn’t it though? Kaia isolated you. She got in your head that you deserved it. Me on the other hand… I got comfortable being untouchable. You saw it when I just got to Austin. How uncomfortable I was, even with Tommy.”
“You were gone thirteen years,” Joel insisted, “We’ve lived whole lives. Tommy and me, we became daddies. You became the most successful out of us three. All of us comin’ back together was always gonna be strange.”
“But it was a time, wasn’t it?” You tried to push away the doubts that plagued you. “Working with you both, going to S.U.C.K.I.T… sleeping together in Dallas. Jesus Christ, what a night—or rather, what a year.”
Joel chuckled, finding amusement in it all. “I don’t know what we were thinkin’.”
“Joint frustration, hate, and liquor?”
“Yeah… that might be it.”
“I don’t regret it at all.” You stretched your arms high above your head so that the cold wouldn’t freeze your joints. “I mean—I did, slightly afterwards. I’m not going to lie to you.”
“I could kinda tell.”
“But I got an amazing relationship out of it. We tackled a lot of shit together. And to think, all we had to do was take off our pants.”
Joel muttered something under his breath you couldn’t hear.
Arching an eyebrow in question, you looked to Joel, who had gone a bit pinker. That certainly didn’t have to do with the cold. “What?”
“I… forget it. I’m speakin’ out of my ass.”
But you didn’t let him go. You swatted the air around him to tease. He fought you off, “No, no, tell me what you're saying.”
“You’re such a—god, you’re such a fuckin’ tease.”
“Me?! I’m the tease?!” You scoffed. “You’re the one whispering things I can’t hear, then getting in a little fit about it.”
“I said,” Joel finally relented, hiding in his scarf, “That it was a skirt. You were wearin’ a dress, and I flipped up a skirt—”
“You dog!” You gasped, pushing off the wall and rounding the box to stand right before Joel, “I can’t believe you would be thinking about that!”
“You brought up Dallas!”
“To reminisce! What, I can’t reminisce about the first time we fucked?”
Then, you both fell into a fit of laughter. Joel had to hold onto the wall to keep his body upright, his whole body shaking. You could see the quakes even through all the layers he was wearing. You walked in little circles, slapping your knee and howling into the wind.
Only you and Joel could comfortably discuss your sex life like it was nothing.
You only calmed down when you ran your hand up and down your chest over your jacket, teaching your lungs to breathe while you found the space between your laughs.
“Jesus Christ… you—you got a mouth on ya,” Joel said between fits of chuckles, wiping at the corners of his eyes.
“You do too, don’t get all Mister Joel ‘I’m so innocent!’ Miller on me. It doesn’t work, much less fool me.”
“I’m as innocent as a dove; I don’t know what’cha mean by that.”
You raised an eyebrow, “Liar.”
“Never to you.”
“Oh, what a gentleman!” You circled him, taking careful steps so you wouldn’t fall. “So all the things we’ve done make you a saint?”
“I don’t go doin’ it with everyone, so yeah, it does.”
You faux-gasped, rushing to him and placing your hands on his shoulders, “So I’m your first?”
“Oh, you ain’t goin’ be sayin’ all—”
“I’m honored, Miller.” You giggled, “Being your first time, your first girlfriend, your first everything.”
“I wish.” He said with a smile on his face, but you could tell it was sort of sad. “Maybe in a ‘nother life.”
The joy in your eyes slightly dimmed. He was right. It was surreal being here with him, but in the strangest, most different path to it. It was never a straight line with Joel. It curved and split and went up and down before it brought you and him together.
And wasn’t that a shame? You and him worked so well, yet your own faults and needs varied from time to time. As much as it hurt to admit it, sometimes, you weren’t his priority. Sarah was. Unborn or born, she took precedence over even you.
That’s why he chose to push you away, for Sarah. That’s why he kept silent about his pain, for Sarah. That’s why he lied, for Sarah. To be the savior rather than the saved, because who was Joel Miller if he wasn’t self-sacrificing?
You could say the same too. Your career took priority. You didn’t regret it one bit, and you were sure Joel didn’t either when it came to his daughter.
But now, neither of those priorities was screaming at you both to stop and rethink. Now, you and him were each other’s priorities.
Tilting your head, you smiled, “We could wipe the slate clean with us.”
Joel laughed at that, as if you were joking, “As I said, ‘nother life.”
“No, I mean… let’s start fresh.”
He blinked at that, “What do you mean by that?”
You slid your hands down to his, and gripped his fingers. You stared him down with a new set of determination that lit up your bones and made you want to try again.
Not just in life, but with him.
“I forgive you.”
Joel looked completely stunned, frozen in time, and completely lost all in the same moment.
“What?”
“I want you to know that I forgive you.” You changed up your words like he needed a different version to understand what you were saying. “I’ve realized that in my time with you—as a dad, as a partner, as a friend—that you are… protective, to say the least. And you had it all on you, so I can’t imagine what it must’ve felt like to be confronted with it all. Lying seemed like the only way to keep me, even if it wasn’t.”
“That much, I know for sure,” He spoke up, his shock wearing off. “It’s what we’ve come to terms with, but you don’t gotta see that and feel pressured to… to forgive me.”
“Why can’t it be? If I had a baby, I would’ve done that and worse, fuck my own happiness.”
“It’s just how I was—and am—wired.” His thumb ran over your knuckles. “I’ve always been willin’ to give everythin’ up for others.”
“So I’m telling you: I see that. And I want you to know that I don’t hold what you did to me against you. Not anymore. Not when you’ve shown me you’re capable of change.”
“Why? Why now?”
You couldn’t help but peer back down at the crowd. All the lives gathered in one place. How many of them have been hurt, hurt others, or hurt themselves? How many of them couldn’t live with forgiving because it was realizing what happened and that it changed you, for better or for worse?
You didn’t want to be like that.
“We grew up together just as much as we did apart.” Your voice was a weak whisper, barely able to be heard in the roar from below and the wind. “And I’ve accepted you’ve changed. And I think you’ve accepted that so have I. I don’t… I don’t exactly trust you—that we’ll have to work on—but I’m getting there. Your work isn’t in vain, because I forgive you.”
Joel looked like you had ripped his heart out of his chest with the most care one could. His hands actually shook in yours, afraid and real and all yours.
“You ain’t just… just pullin’ at my leg, right? ‘Cause that ain’t somethin’ you should joke ‘bout, sweetheart.”
It made you sad that it would be a possibility that you would ever joke about you and him. “No, it’s never a joke. I just wanna—”
You couldn’t finish your sentence because Joel took you straight into his arms. He pulled you into the biggest hug, standing up at his fullest height and throttling you around. He squeezed as tightly as he could, to the point where you felt like your insides might pour out of your pores and onto the roof.
You hugged back too. You were unwilling to let him be the only one to feel the pure glee of all this. Your face was buried into the side of his, laughing straight into his ear without a care in the world. All those snobby elites could see you be so glad and joyful, and you wouldn’t feel a lick of shame, not one bit.
When he did put you down, your boots had nearly clipped the side of the box, but you didn’t even notice. All you looked at was Joel and his sparkling face.
“I think this was an even better Christmas gift,” He admitted.
“I’m glad I could give you that, then.” You took it as a win.
There was more you wanted to say to him. Like how much you wanted to take him to all the other places New York had to offer around this time of year, but you couldn’t. The yells of the crowd got particular more louder and longer, as if something was approaching.
You pulled yourself enough from Joel to grab his wrist. He made a noise at how fast and hard you moved, but didn’t make a single complaint. You brought it up to your face with a perplexed expression that melted away.
Joel’s watch told you the time: one minute.
Your whole body felt as if it was soaring. You knelt, flipping the flaps open to reveal a million different colors. The confetti somehow managed to stay in the box, not being taken by the wind. “Alright, when it hits twenty seconds, we’re going to start tossing as fast as we can.”
“Twenty seconds?” Joel asked, bending at the knee to join you.
“It’s some math that Heining was able to figure out. Twenty seconds right before the ball drops gives it enough time for it to land on the crowd.”
“Smart man.” He murmured while he ran his fingers through the pieces of shiny paper. He checked his watch again, now hypervigilant.
“It’s beautiful, with how the math goes into it all,” You marveled. “I mean, how do you just figure something out like that?”
“Probably with way too much time on your hands.”
Your eyes flickered up to him. “That and dedication. Love of the craft, as one might say.”
He looked back at you, “Can admire a man for that.
You both waited for a moment in quiet, letting the wind brush against your hair and skin while you waited, and waited, until Joel looked back down and saw twenty seconds.
He didn’t even have to announce it. He simply started filling up his hands, then decided his arms were better. You followed suit, not wanting to fall behind.
Soon, both your arms were full of confetti, some of the pieces falling under the wind’s influence and floating away. You stood up, him right behind you, and you both shared a look, and at the same time, dumped the armful. For a moment, you and he stared at the reds, blues, greens, yellows, and all the colors in between falling.
And as soon as you started, so did all the other buildings. From spots on roofs you hadn’t even noticed, suddenly there were little bubbles of colors popping and heading toward the ground.
Together, it was like two worlds coming together to celebrate the birth of a new year.
But you couldn’t just stand there and admire. With the rest of the box still full of confetti, you and Joel both moved as fast as you could to try and get all out and into the air. Sometimes, your arms would accidentally lock into loops, and you would have to fight to get the bigger hug of color. Sometimes, your heads would knock together, and you would both laugh and shake it off.
Joel’s face was lit up so bright, he could’ve been the ball itself on One Times Square. He couldn’t stop the noises of happiness from spilling out, chuckling and muttering to himself as he went as quickly as he could go. It infected you, and forced you to move faster as well.
Soon, your box was empty, only a couple of stray pieces leftover. The math of it all was perfect; by the time the pieces would fall, it would be New Year’s. No one would even have to look up; the pieces would be there
Even with the confetti falling, you couldn’t help but stare at the ball. It glittered and glowed, just waiting to be dropped. It was the center of attention of the entire United States, yet you were closer to it than anyone else. No one could tell you that this wasn’t everything and more.
And then the crowd below began their countdown.
“Ten!”
You gasped, pushing your body onto the railing as you looked down. The confetti glittered and flickered as the light reflected off it.
“Nine!”
“Joel! Joel, look!” You grabbed him close, pressing your side against his. He made a noise as you clenched the sleeve of his jacket. “I told you it’s perfect math! Have you ever seen anything more beautiful?!”
He made no response.
It confused you, so you looked back up to him, but froze.
Because Joel Miller was only looking at you and nothing else.
“Eight!”
“I have.” He confessed. It was loud and unashamed. He owned it, even though his bottom lip quivered, and you were sure it wasn’t from the cold. “I’ve seen somethin’ more beautiful every day of my life.”
Your breath staggered.
“Seven!”
Joel continued: “I’ve lived with someone more beautiful than this. More beautiful than anythin’ I could ever lay my eyes on. And I got to see her in every stage of her life, even the ones I missed. And I loved each one. So yeah, I’ve seen hundreds of things better than this. ”
“What… what are you saying, Joel?”
“Six!”
He didn’t even bother to hide it.
The pain—no, the longing—that was etched across his face. His entire attention was transfixed on you, and only you. “I’m saying that I’d do anything for you. And I wanna… I wanna do this one last thin’ for you, but I don’t know if you’d want it. But I want—no, need it. I need…”
“Need what?”
“You. I need you, sweetheart.”
“Five!”
Your mouth fell open, and that’s when you fully turned to face him, no longer bothering with the ball, the confetti, or the crowd. No, all you could look at was the man on the edge of a rooftop in New York City, pouring his soul out.
Joel pressed his hand over his chest, right over his heart. “I’ve always needed you. Not in the co-dependent shit I was in, but in a way that just makes my life brighter. I can live my life, sure, but it wouldn’t be in full color, not without you. And I know, I didn’t give that to you. I was selfish and didn’t think ‘bout how I was affectin’ you. But I do now, so I’ve been… been tryin’ to add some color in this New York life of yours.”
“Oh, Joel…”
“Four!”
“Even if I don’t get anythin’ out of this—I don’t expect you to love me ‘gain and I don’t wanna force you—I need you to know this: I’m happy I got to have you as my girlfriend. I’m glad I got to have your love ‘cause Lord knows I wouldn’t have healed at all. It’s ‘cause of you, I’m a better man.”
“And I see it all!” You blurted out. “Don’t think I haven’t. You’ve changed, Joel, and for the better. It’s been amazing watching you grow, even though it’s been hard for me. This past year has been about healing, and I want next year to be… I want next year to be ours.”
You both looked into each other's eyes.
And you knew.
There was no more hiding.
No more running away, no more biting back, no more defense, no more hate, no more distance between you two.
Just you, him, and this rooftop, about to make a choice.
Turn your face back to the crowd, and let time take you somewhere else.
Or face it all with one person.
With him.
“Three!”
Your hands collided with his at the same instant, fingers twisting into fabric, yanking each other forward like the wind itself was trying to rip you apart. His chest slammed against yours, his jacket creaking under your desperate grip. For the first time in months, your body remembered what it felt like to be whole.
You looked at his face, the one you spent decades tracing and watching morph into the man before you. The hair that danced in the wind. The eyes that wouldn’t leave you, not for a second. The skin that was so weathered yet full of life.
The things that made up this man before you.
“Two!”
His face was suddenly inches from yours, breath warm against your lips. His hands slid into your hair, cradling your head like it was something he’d been terrified of losing forever.
The world narrowed to his eyes—relief, hunger, and a love so fierce it almost hurt—and you breathed him in: that familiar musk of cedar, the city grit still clinging to his skin, the scent of home you’d been starving for.
Home and power altogether in one.
Both sides of you pressed together into one person.
It was as if he was reading your mind; he spoke first. It was barely louder than the roar of the crowd, but it was all you heard: “I’m right here with ya… all of me. Every damn piece.”
Those words were all you needed.
“One!”
Time slowed, and the noises of the city slowly fell away, but not completely. All that was taking over your senses was the heat of his body, the thunder of your heartbeat, and the way his thumbs brushed your cheekbones.
You looked straight into him.
“I’m right here with you, too.”
“Happy New Year!”
And just like that, his lips were on yours, and everything was aligning once more.
Now, there was no noise, like time itself paused to let you and Joel have this. You didn’t move, and neither did he. His mouth against yours, unmoving as you both tasted the other. He was the same as the gala, that same taste and everything.
But it meant so much more.
His arms locked around you as he’d never let go again, and you kissed him back just as fiercely, pouring every unsaid word into his mouth. Fireworks burst overhead, but nothing compared to the storm igniting inside your chest.
Your lips moved with his, chasing the feeling of him as much as you could. There was no world where you would let him go now and slip between your fingers. You leaned in closer, chest to chest so that his warmth would envelope you.
Joel did the same, moving his big arms around your shoulder so that it was a hug and kiss all in one. The snow that fell down in lazy flutters landed on both your skins, but neither of you paid mind. There was only you and him in the moment, and nothing else.
When you finally parted—foreheads pressed together—he whispered so that the words would ghost over your face, so low you could barely hear them:
“You don’t know… how much I’ve fuckin’ missed you.”
He leaned back in to leave short kisses on your lips, that slowly spread over to the apple of your right cheek. You didn’t have the will to physically push him off.
What you did have the will for, however, was to breathe in his scent and kiss his cheek back. You missed the gruffness of his beard, and how it slightly tickled your skin if you moved against it. How the eye of the cheek that you would kiss would close at the force of your lips. How his chest would rumble deep, like a car. They were the simple things that you missed about him.
With a short huff, he pulled back. Joel had a smile so wide it looked like it hurt, and you even swore he had started to look brighter altogether. He wasn’t even staring at any of the festivities around that begged for attention; he seemed content with the fact that you held all his attention.
You smiled and pecked him once more, “Hi.”
He grinned, glasses pushing upwards, “Hey.”
“Was this your plan, then?” You questioned.
Joel had a perplexed look mixed in with his expression, “I didn’t have a plan. I just… I just really wanted to kiss you.”
“Am I still the same, then?”
“What’cha mean?”
“I don’t know…” You pouted, looping your arms around his neck to sway you both side to side, teasing him. “Am I still a good kisser? I haven’t had practice in a long time, and I didn’t want to gross you out—”
He had rammed his lips onto yours again, silencing your words. His tongue quickly flashed over your lips, breaking the seam ever-so-slightly but not enough. When he pulled back this time, he had a smirk lining his mouth.
“I’m not sure.”
“Excuse me?”
“In fact.” He looked back down at your lips, “Might need ‘nother couple more for this experiment of ours…”
“Now you’re just being greedy. One kiss isn’t enough?” You raised an eyebrow.
“I can show you how greedy you’ve made me.” His hands dipped lower over to your hips. Even through your thick jacket, you felt how tight he was holding you. “Though, I ain’t sure it’s exactly public-friendly—”
“Shush!” You giggled despite yourself, trying to cover his mouth. He weaved out of the way, but you managed to slightly catch him.
“Can’t be mad at a man for wantin’ more.” He smiled against your fingers. You couldn’t help but feel the chapped lips. “‘Speically when you’re right here ‘fore me. Like askin’ a dyin’ man not to beg for one last taste of Heaven.”
“If you’re that needy, I can’t really help but feel pity for you.”
You both leaned in again, with Joel’s eyes slowly shutting. “Yeah… feel pity on my soul.”
Kissing once more, you felt even better than before. The habit of being with him was refreshing itself in your mind. Your hand wandered up to his temple, feeling the groove of the scar there.
He parted from you, and finally looked back to the crowd, and so did you. Down below, many people hugged, cheered, and kissed, and all of it floated upwards, opposite of the confetti that now covered them. Lights poured from all the billboards, washing everything in a whole spectrum.
You got lost in the view, staring down at the scene you had been watching for fourteen years. This fourteen was your favorite, no doubt about it.
It was only when Joel pushed his nose against your cheek that you turned back to him.
His flushed face—from you or the cold, you didn’t know—was close to yours again. “Feels surreal, havin’ it all be live.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I've watched New Year's through my TV screen ever since I was a baby. It didn’t feel real even though it was, even after I started watchin’ it for Sarah and everyone else. Now, knownin’ you were up there throwin’ confetti, and I’m here with you now… Lord, I'm the luckiest bastard ever made.”
You looked at how
“Let’s go home.”
“You don’t want to stay?”
“I mean, I usually do. I didn’t really have anything better to do then,” You pushed his hand up, facing both your and his palms face to face before threading your fingers together. “But now I do.”
“Like what?”
You looked up at him, eyes completely enraptured in everything that was him. “You.” You brought your intertwined hands and brought them to your heart—right between your bodies—to keep them warm. “I want to go home with you.”
Joel blinked, the fog emanating from his mouth stopping.
For a second, you thought this would have broken him more than any kiss would’ve. Rather, you’d never see him leave your side quicker. He rushed over to the box, then came back already folding and crushing it in his hands very aggressively. You laughed the whole time, already backing away.
Snow crunched underneath both sets of boots as you made it to the ladder; one slow and dragged, while the other was as quick as a rabbit. Joel was glued to your side in an instant, keeping his eyes flickering between you and him.
As you both descended—you don’t know how Joel managed to keep the box in his hands while looking where he was going—your heart kept on finding a way to pound in your ears. You wanted nothing more than to be with Joel again, but the fact it was here was scarier than anything.
Once you and him hit the ground, the noises from the street were completely deafening. You couldn’t even hear your own thoughts, and had to hold onto Joel to guide him out into the alleyway.
People rushed up and down, screaming and cheering to each other as they enjoyed the first hour of twenty-twenty-four. Joel somehow found a recycling bin and tossed the cardboard box. Then, he took control of the guide, making sure you weren’t caught in the crowd or shoved at all. He acted like a barrier between you and the overwhelming chaos of New York City.
You were kept inside the sidewalk as you made it further and further away, but it seemed like no matter how far you went, there was still some kind of excitement. It was only when you and he walked for at least ten minutes that the noise became more bearable.
Soon, your building showed up, even the beacon. You never looked upon it too fondly, always holding yourself and it at a distance. But Joel had managed to breathe life into it, making the space like a home rather than a house.
You hoped he knew that.
The doorman wasn’t there—clearly enjoying his New Year—so Joel pushed the door open for you. His left arm held the door open, causing you to duck underneath. He followed, running his hand over your back as the door shut and found your hand again.
Even though the lobby was warmer than the outside, Joel’s hand was heating your own faster. All the staff was gone, leaving your footsteps echoing throughout the high ceilings and grand furniture. Joel was the one who guided you both to the elevator, the one who pressed the button, and the one who let you inside first when the elevator arrived.
He was such a gentleman.
As a reward, you pressed on your toes and lifted yourself to place a soft kiss on the apple of his cheek, nose bumping against the arm of his glasses. “Thank you, Miller.” You said as you slipped inside, your hand leaving his.
You were sure then that you had broken him.
Joel followed silently, then jammed his finger hard onto your floor level and even harder on the close button. It didn’t make it go any faster, and when the doors finally did close, his foot started erratically tapping, like he was losing patience.
You both rode in silence, well, you did ride in silence until…
“Does this elevator have any cameras in it?”
You looked at him, but he wasn’t looking at you. Instead, Joel had his eyes on where the elevator walls met the ceiling, that crease that surrounded you both. “They do. Why?”
“Inwards or outwards?”
“Inwards.” You huffed at this line of questioning. Contrast to his calm tone, you could see his hands visibly clenching and unclenching. “Gives privacy to the entryway of each penthouse.”
“Hm, I see.”
“Surprisingly, I’m not the only penthouse here. Actually, I think I have a downstairs neighbor or two. But they haven’t come back to this city in a long, long time. Never met them, actually.” Rambling, you tapped your chin, “Or maybe Michelle owns that penthouse too. I wouldn’t be surprised in the slightest, honestly.”
“Yeah…” He continued to look around. “And the windows to your place—no one can see through them?”
You raised your eyebrow, curious about his sudden interest in your home. “I mean, I do have tinted windows. But we’re so high up that people can’t see us, so it’s a bonus.”
“That’s good.”
“Actually, there've been a couple of times when I’ve pressed my face against the glass when I’d get drunk—” The ding indicated you were at your stop and the doors were opening, “—so I would be pretty embarrassed if someone saw that, but I’m pretty damn lucky—oh!”
The words were lost into the air because Joel had gripped your bicep so hard as he led you out of the elevator. There was a rush of air and then your back pressed against the wall with an oof. You didn’t have time to ask him what he was doing before his lips were on yours.
You couldn’t keep up with his barrage of kisses. His mouth worked against your own way too fast, overwhelming your senses. Even his body matched his pace, pressing you so hard against the wall that it dug through your layer. One of his arms was wound tight across your back, the other along your nape to keep you still.
His glasses bumped against both your faces, losing their perch on his broad nose. You gasped when it nearly clipped your eye, enough room to let his tongue graze your own. Yet, Joel frowned and pulled back, and you could see your flushed face panting.
“Sorry… sorry I didn’t mean to hurt you,” He confessed. As quickly as he kissed you, Joel removed his glasses and threw them somewhere over his shoulder, already leaning down toward you.
You gasped, letting two soft kisses against your lips before you spoke, “Your glasses! You don’t have another pair—”
“Worry ‘bout that later,” Joel murmured against your jaw.
Despite your shock, you still tilted up your head to give him room to trail down your neck. “Are you serious right now?”
Peck! “As death.”
Peck! “Stop talking so morbid—” He mouthed at your pulse, pulling out a shiver that racked through your whole body, “—o-oh god…”
Peck! His pathway was stopped by your heavy-duty jacket, and Joel started popping each gold button with hard tugs. Like a man with a mission. But he didn’t look like a man who was present with you. It took you placing a hand to bring his attention to you.
He was breathing so hard that you could see the rise and fall through his coat. His scarf was haphazardly skewed around his neck, like it was trying to strangle out what little air he had inside. His hair was ruffled even though you hadn’t touched it yet.
You placed both your hands on his chest to keep him at bay. “Slow down. You aren’t even taking full breaths.”
“I’m fine, sweetheart.” He deflected, pawing at the buttons again. Your frown must have changed his mind because he pressed his lips into a thin line, “I’m impatient, is all.”
You couldn’t help but laugh, tilting your head back and exposing the column of your neck. Joel placed more kisses there as you forced him to walk backwards.
“Well, if anything,” You unspooled both your scarves, starting a trail behind you. “I’m the impatient one.”
“Are you?” It was muffled against your skin. His coat nearly tripped you as you somehow removed it, your own following shortly behind.
“Yes, yes I am.” Admitting it was easy. The heater of the penthouse warmed your own bare arms and neck, beads of sweat from the frozen snow dotting your skin. “Because I’ve been waiting for so. Fucking. Long.”
That smile of his—goopy and wide—appeared on his face as his back hit the glass windows. He grunted, but kept his hands locked on you. “I’ve waited too long too, but I didn’t want—didn’t want to scare you.”
“A gentleman, then.” You placed kisses all over his scratchy jaw. “Very different from me.”
“How?”
“Because I—” You went down his neck, overspilling to the fabric of his shirt, “—have no self-control, Joel. ”
He watched with bated breath as you lowered yourself further and further, down the hard planes of his chest. Even with the fabric keeping you from his skin, it made him want to dig your teeth into the softness of his belly. A softness that hadn’t been there, more prominent now.
That made you more giddy than anything.
The floor was cold against your knees, a contrast to Joel’s hands that had cupped your face to tilt you upwards.
“Don’t—don’t be there.” The almost begging in his tone made your heart soar. You missed that, “I don’t want you on your knees. I want you here, with me.”
You ran your lips over his belt, the leather cold, but his buckle was freezing. “But I want to see it.”
“See what?”
Biting down on the metal, it caught on your teeth, and your bottom lip grazed against his bulge. “I wanna see how much you want me.”
Then—before he could speak—you ducked and mouthed over the semi-hard cock through his jeans and boxers. You didn’t know how much he could feel, but from the way a broken groan echoed throughout the living room, it was clear it was working.
You didn’t need to unbuckle him, pop his button, or unzip his pants. Your wet lips and tongue were enough. The fabric tasted rough and salty, with a distinct scent of just him. You didn’t lose eye contact one bit, and neither did he. You both stared deep into each other's eyes with the full intent of seeing who would break first.
God knows it wouldn’t be you.
“S-sweetheart, at least lemme get a damn pillow,” Ever the gentleman, he brushed your hair from your face, “Don’t want you hurtin’ ‘em knees of yours.”
"Mmmph—'m good, baby—" Your voice was completely muffled by his clothed cock.
“You’re actin’—oh fuck—real pushy tonight,” He chuckled with the little control he had. “I thought we were done fightin’.”
“When did I say that?” You peppered kisses along his hardening shaft. “I just kissed you at New Year’s, and that’s it.”
“We kissed at the gala. I-I thought that kiss meant we were good. I thought I was yours ‘gain.”
“You are mine. I kissed you right there in front of all those women eye-fucking you… and you just stood there, Joel.” You pouted as if you were hurt—you weren’t, but you liked teasing him to think so. “You didn’t touch me afterwards when we got home. You just pinned me against a wall and pulled my heel and slept in my bed.”
“Y-you gotta slow down,” Joel’s gentle hands went tight as you suckled on what you assumed was his tip. After you stopped, he continued; “I was tryin’ to be respectful. I didn’t wanna push you after everythin’. I figured you’d tell me what you wanted.”
“Well maybe I wanted you to push me. Maybe I wanted you to show me who I belonged to instead of playing the gentleman.”
“I’m tryin’ real hard to be good to you right now…”
“Then stop trying so hard.” You nipped with your teeth, forcing him back, but to where? The windows kept him confined to exactly where you wanted him. “I’m on my knees mouthing your cock, and you’re still being sweet? Bite back, Miller. Or does thirty-six mean you’ve gotta invest in dentures. So early?”
“Hey—watch that mouth of yours.”
A thrill rushed over you. He could be nice all he wanted, whine and buck against your face, but you knew Joel. You felt that version of him when he suddenly wrenched your head back from his crotch, and held your jaw with his thumb probing against your mouth. You opened, and let his thumb find the space between both rows of teeth to hold you there.
Those kind, gorgeous eyes went slightly dark, almost a bit mean. You saw those exact eyes before, miles away in Austin with just you and him.
You saw those eyes in Tommy’s office, unafraid and bold.
You saw those eyes on his couch, vulnerable and loving.
You saw those eyes in his kitchen, commanding and guiding.
You saw those eyes in Dallas, all-consuming and needing.
The urge to push him over the edge took over every fiber of your being. You bit down on his thumb, swirling your tongue over the rough pad. When he slightly pulled back, a clear ring of teeth marks was left.
You smirked.
“Make me.”
Neither of you made a move. You both dared the other to. You, on your knees with your back straight and your determination like iron. Him, standing tall and towering over you with his desire burning hot like fire.
Surely, you would crash somewhere in the middle.
Quicker than you could react, he hauled you up and held you until you pressed against the window. Your hands braced your body against the cold, and you could see the whole city. It was slightly disorienting to see all the lights so close.
You were always able to see far from your penthouse—all the way to the Empire State Building—but it felt as if you were floating outside with only the muffled sound of honking and life from below, and the gush of airplanes above.
The only steady thing was Joel’s body nestled right behind you, all of him pressed tight against you. His chest straight along your back, his thick thighs spreading yours wide. His hands started an endless tracing of your stomach, just underneath your breasts.
His voice was a rumble in your ear, “I thought… I thought this would be sweet ‘tween us.” He squeezed that flesh on your hip, “Take it real slow and treat you like the woman you are.”
“That’s all you got? Come on—“
You yelped when he tugged back your hair, forcing you to look up at him. It burned every-so-slightly, but you relished it. There was a flicker of concern in his eyes at the noise you made, but when you grinned wide, he merely grunted.
“‘Stead, you wanna play rough. We can play rough, sweetheart.” He used your nickname as a warning. He let go of your hair enough to force you to look upon the city. The same one that brought you so much pride and sorrow in one. “I’ll fuckin’ show this whole city who you belon’ to.”
You whimpered, “Then do it already. Stop being such a—”
“Lord, I forgot how much ya talk when you’re bein’ difficult.” He laughed as if he found your attempts to fight back funny. “That’s okay. It’ll make it all the more sweeter when I shut you up.”
With a sharp tug, your shirt was untucked from your jeans and lifted. The smooth skin of your stomach was revealed, then all of you as he wrangled it over your head and tossed it away. You were bare, only in your bra.
Then, both of you snapped your hands to your crotch. You popped the button while he pulled down your fly. Joel mouthed at the spot right below your ear, while you parted your mouth in an ‘o’ and tipped your head back onto his shoulder. You somehow remembered to kick off your boots. It was all a mutual teamwork that poured over both your senses.
Joel pulled your jeans down your legs, and you helped just enough to step out of them and kick them across the floor. The cold pane of the window bit at your skin, but Joel was there to warm you up.
He spun you around, locking his lips onto yours once more. Your hands finally slipped through his hair, gripping him tight and moving him with your body. You kept him close, to the point where you would melt into him if you could.
Before you could mutter his name, he was already lowering himself onto the ground with a grunt. You held onto his shoulder as he gazed up at you like you were everything he wanted and everything he needed.
His head leaned over to your thigh, resting his forehead there. Then, his tongue darted out, tracing along your skin in wide strokes. Joel never went where you needed him—your throbbing clit between your legs—but rather, he worked your body, lifting your leg.
You could only watch as he made his way down to your ankle, then back up. Closer and closer like an animal stalking toward the thing it wanted most. His eyebrows pinched upwards as he went up your shin, your knee, then the softness of your thigh.
“Pretty woman,” His rough fingers pried your legs apart, and when his daze dipped to your pink panties, his mouth opened. An awed expression took over him, “‘Course you also got the best panties in the world.”
You huffed as he traced along the line where your panties met your skin with just his lips. “Who’s talking too much now?”
“Hmm…” Gentle as a stream, he lifted your right thigh and placed it on his shoulder. You nearly fell over, but with his other hand on your left leg and your hands on him, you held yourself straight. “Just makin’ an observation.”
His fingers reached up between your clothed mound, brushing at where your slit started. It wasn’t enough to reach your clit—he would’ve put his hands there already—but the short ups and downs he did were enough to have you already squirming.
Instinctively, you pushed your hips, but he drew back, tutting his tongue. His fingers stopped altogether.
“If I wanted your help, I would’ve asked, wouldn’t I?” He said, so soft despite the fact he was being so mean.
You bit the inside of your cheek, about to respond with something sharp, but the way he held his grip made you swallow your words. Every part of you wanted to fight back and say something snarky, but you wanted relief more.
Relief from this torment of having his body gone for so long. Relief from the loneliness that had taken over you, then thawed away when he was back—relief from not being with him.
So, you simply kept quiet and held your hips in one place, not pushing or pulling back. He sensed that, and it seemed to please him. He reached under your panties, spreading your lips wide. Then, he pushed the fabric right over your exposed clit, opening you up to the roughness of the silk.
And finally, instead of his fingers, he brought his mouth forward, and laid one long stripe over your, and directly on your clit.
You let out a high-pitched, shocked gasp. Your hands shot up to his hair, gripping him hard to hold on. His spit already seeped through, adding to your sweet slick seeping from your cunt.
You were so lost, you almost didn’t hear Joel make a squeak in his throat, and the pause. It was a complete one-eighty of his previous words. When you looked down, you couldn’t help but gape. Joel had an awed, almost pained expression. He licked his lips, as if tasting you.
When he looked at you, he was starving.
“Take off your panties.”
“What—“
But you couldn’t finish before Joel had started tugging at the waistband, pulling them down your left leg. You staggered trying to get out, but Joel somehow managed to get your panties to hang off your right ankle.
Then, he held nothing back.
Joel buried his face in between your thighs, eyes rolling back in his sockets as he became completely lost in the taste of you. His tongue was smooth and wet, sliding perfectly against your clit. You threw your head back, a hard thud when your head hit the back of the window.
You didn’t care, though. All you could focus on was how he sucked with his tongue. He switched between long licks and short, fast suckles that had your thighs shaking. He noticed, even though he was consumed. Joel ran his hand over your skin to keep you grounded.
“Fuck—Joel, right there,” You pushed his head downwards. Joel hummed and listened, following the rolling of your hips. You were sure he only allowed it because he controlled how your hips moved.
He used that power, forcing you to present more of yourself to him. His tongue went straight into your hole, nose bumping against your nose. You swore you felt him huffing and breathing you in, “Mmmph… oh sweet girl… pussy tastes so good… hah… never forgot the taste…”
“Just like that, just like that…”
Your fingers tangled in his hair, hips grinding shamelessly against his face now. Joel growled into your cunt, vibrations shooting straight through you. He pulled back just enough to spit on your pussy, watching it drip down before diving back in.
The sexual frustration had been building up, and threatened to blow through the carefully laid dam you had built up. The pressure was growing higher and higher, and he didn’t let you get any rest.
You encouraged him with a moan, squeezing your eyes shut.
Then, you felt his mouth remove itself.
You nearly whined out and snapped your eyes open immediately. When you tilted your head down to say something, he had already beaten you.
“Keep ‘em eyes of yours open, or this stops.” He said with the utmost seriousness.
You, with the opposite, huffed, chest rising and falling, “I’m trying. It’s just been a long time, okay?”
“Whinin’ ain’t gonna get you nowhere. In fact…” He leaned back more. “…might get you further from what you want.”
A slight panic filled your chest. You kept yourself completely still. “Come back—”
“Beg for it.”
“Don’t say that…”
“Aww, what’s the matter, sweetheart? Don’t know how? Forgot you usually ask?” Your nostrils flared, almost offended by his words. But he knelt there patiently, almost amused. “I could give you a demonstration, ‘course. I’ll tell you everythin’ you need to say.
You wanted to stop him, the humiliation and need burning your skin, but you couldn’t. Joel had already dropped the corners of his lips and pouted. He was so into the bit that his bottom lip quivered. His body pressed against your leg that was standing on the floor, like a puppy begging for more. He even rubbed his face against your thigh, beard scratching you.
“‘Please, Joel,’” He started, trying to imitate your voice, “‘I’ve been achin’ for two months, and my pussy’s been wantin’ your tongue. I’m sorry for bein’ such a brat earlier. I don’t know what got into me. I’ll be good now. I’ll be your good, good girl…’ See, all you gotta do.”
You licked your dry lips.
“Fuck you.”
“Not beggin’ exactly.”
“I’m not going to beg. You can’t make me do anything.” With more mental strength than you realized you needed, you slowly slid your right thigh off his shoulder, your panty dropping to the floor. “I’ll just go upstairs and take care of myself.”
He stared at you. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking. He frowned, then stopped, then started again.
All the while, you grinned inside and never felt happier pushing him.
What would he do? Would he take you to the couch and spank you raw? Was Joel even capable of that? Would he turn you back around and fuck you against the window—you didn’t mind that at all—and speak roughly in your ear? Would he tie you up and use you as he wished?
What would Joel Miller do to—
“Alright.”
He stood up, smiling small like this wasn’t the most you had ever talked back to him during sex. He gave you a chaste kiss on the lips, and picked up your ruined panties. He held them to you, and when you didn’t take them, your mouth still open, he simply sighed and bent back down, helping you back in them.
One foot and then the next, and he was pulling your panties up your hips. Joel made sure everything about you was clean; wiping away sweat, cleaning up your lips from your spit, even fixing your falling bra strap. He did it all with no complaints.
“You want help gettin’ into bed?” He asked, playing with a strand of hair, “We did climb a shit ton of ladders, up and down, so I don’t want you to pull a muscle. Then I’ll—”
“What are you doing?”
“What you told me.”
“But I never said that.”
“You said that you would go upstairs and take care of yourself. And that’s what you’re gonna do.” Joel pulled you in by the waist, running his other hand up and down your ribs. “You’re gonna go upstairs, and you’re gonna make yourself come without my help, and I’mma stay in my room and sleep. I’m happy ‘nough knownin’ I kissed you, and we can talk in the mornin’.”
“Oh, you’re such a—”
“I’m a what? A bastard? A mean asshole? Nah,” He kissed your forehead, already stepping back and walking backwards. “I’m kind. I ain’t gonna make you do anythin’ you don’t want to. I only asked you to beg, and you said no, and that’s it.”
He made it his mission suddenly to clean up all the clothes. Your shirt, your jeans, your boots. His jacket, your jacket. Your scarf and his. When he finally gathered it all, he dumped them onto the sofa to fold.
It was worse than his birthday. At least then, you could tease and break him in so he would come rushing back. You didn’t have the will for that. You wanted all his attention, all his skin, all his mind. You didn’t want him to look or do anything else right now.
You didn’t want to beg, but you didn’t want to be apart anymore.
So, while he had his head ducked, folding up your jacket, you silently moved toward him. You poked your head toward him, looking down at how neatly everything was placed.
Instead of ignoring you, he stroked the back of your head. “Wanna help? You can do the scarves and get your—”
“Please, Joel.”
The words were so large in your mouth you just had to spit them out. You couldn’t fight it any longer. Your knees were weak, your fingers trembled, your cunt throbbed, all while he did fucking laundry.
He raised an eyebrow, but didn’t stop. He put down your jacket and picked up his own. “Please, what?”
“Stop doing the clothes. Come back and touch me.” You looped your arms around his waist, tucking your chin over his shoulder that constantly moved, “I’ll beg now.”
“Won’t mean nothin’.”
“It will.” You brought your hand to his face, forcefully making him look at you.
“It’s just you bein’ honest when your mouth ain’t.”
“I can be honest. I’ll give you everything.”
Joel frowned at that. “You already have. What more could you give me?”
“My body, I’ll let you do anythin’ you want to me.”
“Sweetheart,” He sighed, as if dealing with lecturing you, “The thin’s I wanna do to you… I’m not sure you can handle it. ‘Specially after you said ‘be rough’.”
“I can.”
“Mhmm.”
“I can.” You stressed the words. You shook your head and pressed your chest against his side, leaving kisses on his cheek to bring him back to you. “I’ll spread my legs wider than you’ve ever seen and thank you for it. I’ll let you take me on every piece of furniture until we’ve christened this whole damn penthouse. I’ll even let you—fuck it—I’ll let you come inside me—”
That was all you had to say for the jacket to be dropped and for you to be back in his arms. He kissed you so hard, put all his weight onto you that your back bowed to keep you both upright.
His tongue and yours danced with each other, and your ass hit the arm of the couch, giving you something to lean on as Joel tried to take over you. You felt giddy and satisfied, all that warmth collecting in your heart and lower.
He had a grip on the back of your head, and he was the one who pulled you away. Looking deep into your eyes, he slotted his nose against yours. “Jesus Christ, I’m weak for you. Can’t even punish you right.”
“Punish?” You said with a smirk.
“Can’t let you get away with it. You’ll be good this time?” He asked softly, going back to petting your head.
Excitement coursed throughout your entire body. “I can be good.”
“I know you can be.”
Your heart clenched at the praise, and you fought his grip slightly to kiss him again. But he held you firm. His eyes moved, thinking once more. He darted from you, upstairs, then to the clothes. Over and over again until something good popped up, because he gave you a smile that was as cruel as it was sweet.
“Go upstairs, sweetheart.”
You blinked. “What?”
“You heard me.” He nodded, now sure of whatever he had planned. “You go upstairs, and sit on that bed. And you’re gonna wait ‘til I’m done with all these clothes—probably need to be put in the washing machine—and makin’ us somethin’ like tea, then I’ll—”
“Wait, wait, wait,” You stopped him midsentence with a frown on your face. Joel was patient and let you talk. “I thought you were coming with me.”
“I am. I just don’t want us wakin’ up to a mess; we’ll be too tired anyway. And I’m sure some time on your own will brin’ ‘round some… reflection.”
“Reflection?”
“Reflection. You waited almost two months, what’s ‘nother ten minutes?”
Oh, you knew exactly what he wanted. He wanted to test your own patience and see how much you could listen to him. You weren’t used to Joel being so… forward with his orders. He usually added a ‘please’ or a whine of his own. But not this time.
It was different, having him in full control. Yet it satisfied an itch inside you, and it also made you want to fight back.
You could fight back.
You could fight back right now and raise his blood pressure. You did miss doing that.
“Fuc—fine!” You kept your tone short. You exhaled with disapproval and pulled your hands back. “Fine. I’ll do it.”
He laughed the entire time you walked away, heading up your spiral stairs half-naked and not a lick of shame. Joel couldn’t keep his eyes off you, even though he was going back to fold the clothes. You stared back too. Even though you were listening, you weren’t completely bending to his words.
You walked along the banister, fingers trailing against the wood as you made it closer and closer to the main bedroom. You only broke eye contact when you entered said room. Leaving the door slightly cracked open, you fell into your bed, smothering your face into the sheets.
The sticky feeling between your thighs made itself more known now that you were alone. If you wanted to, you could just forget everything he said and touch yourself until you came. Then, you’d wash your body in hot water and go straight to sleep. Screw Joel and this game he was playing.
He finally had you. You were willing to do anything he wanted, yet he decided the long game was more fun. For who? He could have fucked you by now, given each other two orgasms, and tried a million different positions. Apparently, that wasn’t what he wanted.
You rolled onto your side, looking at the door. The impatience was killing you slowly, and the urge to make this waiting go by quicker took over. You stared up at the ceiling, the fan not even on.
The chill of the room did nothing to help the way the fabric of your panties rubbed against you. It made the urge to reach down and rub your aching clit worse, and all you could think about.
So, to combat it, you slid your panties down your leg and placed them beside you. As soon as that went, you decided unhooking your bra would be the next reasonable step. It went easily, silent as it fell onto the sheets. You stretched, arching your back and stretching out all the cold in your joints.
From downstairs, you could hear Joel moving around your home. You were sure that he wasn’t just doing the laundry, because of the distinct sounds of kitchenware clinking together and the whir of your kettle heating something.
What a bastard.
You huffed, kicked your legs, and closed your eyes. You tried to reason with yourself that you would get him all to yourself. That all this waiting and punishment would lead to him back in your arms and have your legs over his shoulders. This sexual frustration would die, and you would feel content not just physically, but emotionally.
You missed Joel in all the ways one could miss another person. You had full conversations with him about your relationship; you had been drunk and trusted him completely. He even slept in your bed; what more could you want?
You knew, though.
You knew what you wanted from him.
Creak!
You snapped your head to the door, and you propped yourself up on your hands. A shadowy figure—hallowed by the light—came through the crack, opening it wider before he shut the door behind him.
Joel had a tray in his hands. You hadn’t even realized you had a tray like that; it must have come with the penthouse. On it lay two glasses, one of water and one of something hot and steaming. A small plate of your favorite foods was set in the middle.
He placed it onto your dresser, organizing everything to perfection. He had changed out of his clothes, now in a grey t-shirt and sweatpants. “I got you somethin’ to eat afterwards. Water, some tea, and even—” Thump!
It was a graceful arch, not really a throw. Your panties hit and slid down his back. You knew he felt it because his voice went quiet. You couldn’t see his face, but from how his shoulder shook in silent laughter after he saw them on the floor, he must have found it all amusing.
He turned to you, leaning back just like you were. “I see the self-reflection didn’t work.”
“You said you were just doing laundry.”
“Got lost in the motion, I’m sorry,” He didn’t hide how he looked over your entire body. Over your bare tits, your hips, your legs. From how he clenched the wood of your dresser, this wasn’t easy for him either. “I didn’t want you to be workin’ on an empty stomach, so I whipped a couple of thin’s up.”
“My favorites.”
“And some tea. Can’t be drinkin’ coffee this late.”
You hummed, agreeing with him. Even with how you knew how all this would go, you could see him caring. It made you feel a bit bad for acting out.
Only a bit though. You also knew how much he liked this side of you.
You rose onto your knees and crawled toward him on the bed until you were perched there right on the edge, legs tucked to the side. “Thank you, then.”
“‘Course, sweet—” Thump!
This time, it was your bra that landed straight over his shoulder, hanging there like he was a clothing line. The pink looked ridiculous against him, but even more so when he plucked it and ran his fingers over the stitching.
“Why’re you throwin’ your clothes at me?”
“Impatient. Told you.” You lay onto your side, fully exposing your ribs. “I’d throw more, but if you can’t tell I’m… out of ammo, per se.”
His eyes trailed over your curves, how the rose and fell with how you were spread out on the bed. His hand and the bra dropped to his side. “I see. You’re bored.”
“Very much so.”
“Then I’ll give you somethin’ to do.” He said as simple as breathing. With a mere shake of his head, he strided over to your bathroom. You frowned, but stayed quiet.
He disappeared for six seconds exactly, the sound of one of your drawers opening and closing the only indicator of what he was doing. When he came back, your bra was missing, and his hands were behind his back. Joel walked two more steps until he was standing right before you.
There was a quirk in his eyebrow, questioning your position in the bed. You rolled your eyes and moved to sit back on your ass.
Then, there was a thump as he tossed whatever was behind his back onto the bed. It was a blur, barely able to catch it.
But when you spotted it, you nearly choked.
It was your vibrator. Your pink, semi-circular vibrator that you stuffed in your bathroom drawer because you were far too embarrassed to fail again while using it. When did he…
“I found it while I was helpin’ you when we came back from dinner.” It was like he could read your thoughts. “I didn’t look ‘round your stuff on purpose, I swear.”
“Then… then why is it here?”
Joel leaned over you, casting you in deeper shadows. His thick, warm hand ran over your thigh, then lifted and pushed on the back of your knee, spreading you wide. He didn’t stop, the growing angle forcing you to lie down on your back, hair haloing around your head.
He maneuvered you like a doll, taking his other hand to grab the vibrator and place it on the top of your mound. With some balancing, he managed to grab your hand and hold the vibrator in place.
The position was so vulnerable, you couldn’t help but flush. Spread wide before him, with his hands on you and your cunt fluttering on display.
He tilted his head like a curious cat.
“‘Cause you’re gonna show me how you’ve been takin’ care of yourself.”
You nearly choked, but Joel didn’t give you a chance to. He flicked on the first level of your vibrator, and a deep, lazy hum took over. His hand pressed on yours, keeping the vibrator locked right over your clit. It wasn’t enough to bring any true pleasure, but it made you squirm in his grip.
Joel didn’t let you go. “C’mon, be a good girl and listen to me.”
You whimper, “I-I’m being good—”
“Then touch yourself.”
You obeyed, because what else was there to do? Your hand snaked down your breasts, down your navel, past the vibrator until you met your hot cunt. Your middle finger teased yourself, sliding through your wet folds, gathering that sweetness over your digits. Joel marveled the whole time, mouth slightly agape.
It was only when you pushed your finger through that you both let out a noise.
Yours was a higher tone, with your back arching and the vibrator pressed harder. It forced your mouth into an ‘o’ and made it hard to keep your eyes open.
His was deeper, bringing him lower toward you to watch all the little microexpressions on your face. His thumb ran smoothing ups and downs over your knee.
“Please, touch me,” You begged, raising your head weakly up to get him to kiss you. Your middle finger pumped in and out, matching the weak vibrations.
“I can’t, sweetheart. But you can look me in the eyes the whole time. That’s it… keep those pretty eyes on me while you play with that needy pussy.”
Your cheeks burned as you forced yourself to hold his gaze. Joel’s dark eyes were locked on yours, drinking in every twitch and gasp. Slowly, he clicked the vibrator up to the second setting. The hum grew stronger, buzzing more insistently against your clit.
“Add another finger, baby,” he murmured, voice low and smooth. “Two fingers. You can take it.”
You obeyed with a shaky whimper, sliding a second finger alongside the first. The fuller stretch drew a louder moan from your throat as your back arched. Joel’s hand stayed heavy on yours, keeping the vibrator pressed firmly while you started pumping faster.
“Good girl,” he praised, the corner of his mouth twitching. “That’s it. Fuck yourself just like that. Look how wet you’re getting… makin’ such a mess already. There’s gonna be a puddle. ”
He flicked the vibrator up another level. The stronger, pulsing buzz made your thighs jerk and your breath hitch. You fucked yourself harder, curling your fingers, trying to match the intensity.
But after a few minutes, you noticed something.
No matter how deep you thrust your fingers or how desperately you ground against the vibrator, the sharp edge of pleasure kept dancing just out of reach. You tried to go faster, pressing harder, curling tighter, but it wasn’t enough. Your rhythm grew sloppy and frustrated. The coil in your belly wound tighter without snapping, leaving you whimpering in pitiful little gasps.
You tried for a third finger in, stretching yourself almost painfully, but it still wasn’t right. Your hips bucked uselessly, tears of frustration pricking at the corners of your eyes as you chased and chased but couldn’t get there.
Joel noticed immediately. His thumb slowed its gentle stroking on your knee. He stayed quiet for a long moment, just watching you struggle—watching the way your face twisted with need and irritation, the way your fingers faltered inside you.
His voice finally broke the silence, low and soft and almost tender. “Are ya tryin’?”
You snarled at him, “O-obviously I am! I’m just—oh fuck!”
You removed your fingers with a wet pop, throwing your forearm over your eyes. Your chest heaved, and sweat rolled over your skin. Joel didn’t make any moves to try and get you to do something. He let you rest and regather your thoughts. The vibrator turned off with a click, and he let your leg that was once held up fall onto the bed, freeing you of hold.
Lying there, you felt ashamed. How could you be in your mid-thirties and struggling to come? You did just fine when you imagined him, but now with him in front of you, it wasn’t working.
A single tear of frustration slipped through. Yet, you dared to peek underneath your arm and show Joel look down at you with pity.
“You ain’t doin’ it right”
You pressed your shaky arms to make yourself sit up. “Don’t teach me how to masturbate.”
“I ain’t. I’m just noticin’.”
“Well, if you’re so good, why don’t you—”
“Hey, hey… c’mere, sweetheart, shh, none of that. You’re alright.” Joel cut you off gently, his voice dropping into that soothing register. He leaned in closer, one big hand cupping the back of your neck while the other brushed the tear from your cheek with his thumb. “You’re overwhelmed, that’s all. Been too long since you had me, and it’s okay to need a little help. ”
Joel took your wrist gently but firmly, pulling your hand away from your face. He brought your slick fingers to his mouth and sucked them clean, eyes never leaving yours. Then he guided your hand back down between your legs, covering it with his own much larger one.
“Together. Lemme show you.”
He eased two of your fingers back inside your soaked cunt, then slid one of his own thick fingers in alongside them. The stretch was nothing as you had felt before.
“Oh—oh!” You cried out, feeling the walls of your pussy expand to keep both you and him inside.
Joel guided you, pushing further until you and him were buried to the knuckle. “Start like this, now curl ‘em up… yeah, like that. Feel ‘round a lil’.”
You tried, searching with your fingertips, but it wasn’t quite right. He gave you an understanding smile.
“Relax for me.” Joel gently adjusted the angle of your wrist. “A little higher… press up firmer. This spot’ll feel different, kinda swollen. You’ll know when you hit it.”
You shifted again, pressing and rubbing experimentally. A few strokes felt good, but nothing special. Joel clicked his tongue softly and slid another one of his thick fingers in. He curled his finger deliberately, forcing you to bend and curl with him.
You gasped.
A bolt of electricity flooded your spine, dancing on each of your vertebrae until it reached your brain. Your eyes couldn’t blink because they went so wide. He pulled his finger back slightly so you could try again on your own. You fumbled for a moment, missing it, then pressed again—trial and error—adjusting the angle and pressure.
Suddenly your fingertips brushed over an unprecedented spongey softness and—
“Holy shit—” You bit your lip, eyes fluttering.
“There she is, that’s my girl. Nice firm strokes.”
Now that you’d found it, he slid two of his fingers back in with yours. Together, you started fucking your cunt in a steady rhythm. Four fingers total, yours and his working in sync. Every thrust pressed firmly against that magical spot, making your toes curl and your breath come in desperate gasps.
Joel kept his forehead close to yours, watching every reaction. With his free hand, he flicked the vibrator back on, the low buzz filling the air again. He used his thumb to carefully pull back the hood of your clit, fully exposing the sensitive bundle of nerves, and pressed the side directly against it.
The combination hit—his fingers and yours pumping steadily while the vibrator buzzed relentlessly on your bare clit—and you cried out, hips jerking helplessly, “Joel—oh my god—”
“Easy does it,” He cooed, “We ain’t stoppin’ ‘til you come all over our fingers.”
Your moans grew louder, more broken, as slick sounds filled the bedroom. Joel’s voice stayed in your ear, murmuring praise between kisses to your temple.
The pleasure intensified, stacking relentlessly. Your thighs started trembling uncontrollably, your free hand fisting the front of Joel’s shirt as you rocked desperately between your joined fingers and the merciless vibrator.
Joel never let up—moving your and his fingers together on every thrust, grinding the toy in tight little circles against your clit. Sweat beaded on your skin, your breathing turned ragged, and the pressure inside you felt impossibly full, heavier than any orgasm you’d ever felt before.
A strange, deep, almost frightening pressure built low in your belly, different from your usual climax, warmer and more urgent. Your eyes widened in panic as your body started thrashing. “Joel—wait—something’s—fuck, I think I’m gonna—”
He shifted his weight to pin you more fiercely beneath him. “Don’t fight it. Let it happen.”
“Too much! It’s—it’s too much.”
If anything, that made him go harder. “That’s what I want.
“N-no! You don’t get it—I’ve never… never felt like this—!”
“Feel it. Feel this shit, sweetheart.”
You obeyed, and succumbed to the wanton pleasure.
Your mouth fell open in a silent scream, eyes rolled back, body seizing with the overwhelming release. Your whole body froze, thighs clamping around your joined hands as a hot, clear fluid gushed out, soaking Joel’s grey shirt and sweatpants in dark, spreading patches.
It kept coming—splashing onto the sheets and dripping onto the floor as you pulsed again and again. Like a never-ending fountain that told the tales of all the times you half-came or didn’t at all.
All brought into one, singular orgasm.
Even as you locked up and shook, Joel didn’t stop. He kept fucking you through it, dragging out every last pulse while the vibrator stayed pressed tight. It only brought out more of the liquid, staining your shivering thighs.
Slowly, you were brought down from your high, shaking and crying out and clinging onto Joel. He held onto you just as tight, slowing down so that you could be brought down to earth.
You curled your face into his neck, breathing him in so that the familiar scent would calm you. And it did. Your heart slowly slowed, and your breathing became less labored.
Joel’s chin was tucked right above your head, murmuring things you couldn’t quite make out, not with the ringing in your ear. With that same pop, Joel pulled his fingers out of your cunt, and yours followed right after. Both your hands were completely drenched, completely soaked.
He pressed kisses into your hair as your vibrator clicked off, and you heard it hit the floor with a thud as it also rolled away. It caught your attention and forced your eyes down. Your cunt was completely flushed and swollen, quivering and twitching as cool air grazed every sensitive part.
And when you looked up…
You gasped, face becoming inflamed with embarrassment, “Joel! Your—your shirt!”
Joel blinked beerily and glanced down. He chuckled—actually dared to laugh—when he saw huge dark grey stains on his clothes like it was nothing, “Oh, this thin’? I got ‘bout ten more at home. I could just throw this in the laundry too if I gotta.”
“Besides the point!” You brushed your hands over the hem line, trying to wipe it away. It didn’t work, of course. “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry! I didn’t know—at all—that I could do that. I mean, no one’s ever made me come that hard, much less squirt—”
“Really? I’m your first, then?”
“This is not the time to get all prideful.” Whining, you pushed yourself further, coming to sit with a hiss at how it ached between your thighs. When your toes touched the ground, you felt the wetness there too. “Oh god, it’s everywhere.”
“I’ll clean it up, don’t worry.” He said while pulling back.
“No, I will.” You relented, “It’s my mess, and I didn’t mean to… oh.”
Before you, Joel had taken off his shirt, peeling it off him and revealing his thick torso. The shirt went somewhere behind him, and you suddenly had no care for it.
His chest was the same, still the same size and hair that you loved to bury your face in. The most noticeable change was his belly, and how it seemed to have grown a bit bigger. The muscles there were pure strength from many years in Texas heat, and they only seemed stronger now. Thicker, coarser hair than usual traveled down his navel and disappeared into his sweatpants.
You licked your lips. “Your sweatpants are also wet.”
He hummed as he crawled over you, and you moved backwards toward the center of the bed. “Are they?”
“Mhm. I think you should take them off too. Don’t want it to stick to your skin, you know?”
“Help me out?”
You paused, letting Joel fully envelope you as he hovered over your body. Then, you reached and curled your fingers at his waistband, tugging and pulling. He finished the job, pulling his pants and boxers down his thighs and kicking them off the bed.
He was as naked as you, and it was blatantly obvious how turned on he was, his cock at full hardness with dribbles of pre-cum dripping down his shaft. Joel was breathing harder when he noticed you staring.
Your legs naturally found their place hitched on his hips, but Joel didn’t make a move to be inside you. Instead, he fell on top of you, pulling you into a tight hug.
Skin on skin, breath on breath, you and Joel held each other in silence. It was just as intimate as the sex before, if not more. The ability to sit in your most physically vulnerable and not do anything sexual for a moment warmed you fully.
Joel hummed into your hair, and if he could, he would be purring like a cat. His arms wound around your back, pulling you flush against his chest. You used your nails to trace along his bare back, starting at the base and trailing up until you met the nape. He shivered, and you smiled.
When he finally did pull back—much to your dismay, he was very warm—his eyes were completely dazed over, almost in a trance-like state. He kissed you, lips puckered against yours as he made wet smacks. You opened your mouth, letting your tongue be swallowed by his.
“I need you…” You found a small opening to whisper, “Please.”
“You don’t got to beg anymore.” Joel murmured. “I ain’t gonna keep nothin’ from you now.”
Pulling off you with a spit string connecting both your bottom lips, he made his move. Quicker than you could track, he was flipping you onto your belly and grabbing a pillow, wedging it underneath your hips. He made sure you were comfortable, running a hand over your sides.
He even asked if this was alright, and when you arched your back and said yes, that was when he sighed in relief.
Joel’s thighs braced around your own, and you felt his hot cock against your ass. He pressed a broad palm between your shoulder blades, gently guiding you back down against the sheets and keeping your hips up. His thumb ran over the edge of your moth’s wings. You felt the thick head of his cock nudge against your soaked entrance, sliding up and down your folds before he finally began to push in.
He was so big, and it had been too long.
The stretch was overwhelming. Inch by inch he sank into you—slow and careful—groaning deeply as your tight walls fluttered and clenched around every ridge of him. You buried your face into the crook of your arm, breath hitching at the full, burning pressure of him splitting you open.
When you finally bottomed out, hips flush against your ass, both of you went completely still.
Joel dropped his heavy body over yours, chest against your back. His arms bracketed your head, and his forehead was nuzzled into your neck, hot breath fanning across your skin as he fought to remain motionless inside you.,
You could feel how his cock throbbed deep inside your belly, the way your pussy pulsed and squeezed around you in rhythmic waves. His hands found yours, fingers threading together tightly as he held you close, keeping you both in that state of fullness.
After those long, breathless moments, Joel finally started to move. Slow, deep, heavy rolls of his hips that dragged his cock almost all the way out before sliding back to the hilt. Each thrust pushed you further into the pillow, and pulled mewls and whimpers from you. His lips parted and mouthed at your pulse point as broken vibrations shook you from his chest.
You turned your head further toward him, nose brushing along his stubbled jaw and chin in a desperate nuzzle. Joel met you halfway, capturing your mouth in a messy, sideways kiss over your shoulder. The wet sounds of your kiss mixed with the rhythmic slap of his thrusts.
“Fuck baby—you feel so good…” Joel groaned against your lips, “So tight ‘round me, takin’ me so well like you were made for it.”
You moaned louder, clenching, “Only for you… I-I’m only for you.”
“‘Course you are. ‘Course you’re mine, ‘cause I’m yours. We belong to each other.” He rewarded you with a particularly deep grind.
You became pathetically pliant, pushing back to meet his thrusts. Your tongues tangled again in another sloppy kiss, saliva dripping down your chin as you panted into each other’s mouth.
Gradually, his control started to fray. His hips snapped harder, the pace picking up until he was properly pounding into you. The wet, filthy sound of his cock driving into your soaked pussy filled the room, accompanied by each of your moans.
“Joel, Joel, Joel—” You chanted his name like a prayer, and it forced you to be honest. “M-missed this so much. Missed you so—missed you so much.”
“I know, sweetheart—fuck! I’m not gonna fuckin’ last.” He said against your temple. “Not… not gonna last in this perfect, perfect cunt…”
“Don’t come yet, please.” Reaching behind you, your fingers found his hair. “I need more of you.”
“Then I won’t. Not ‘til you tell me to.”
It was dizzying, how fast control could be traded between you both. One moment, he had you on your back needing to be good for him, while the next consisted of him laying himself at your mercy.
He tried to slide his hand underneath your body and above the pillow to try and find your clit, but the angle was too tight. He growled with frustration, and before you could help, he was already pulling out and flipping you over onto your back. The pillow went back near the headboard as he threw it.
Joel gripped your hips, notched your pelvises together, and slammed back inside you with a single thrust.
The new position was devastating. Your pussy was swallowing him even deeper, and the head of his cock dragged along that spot that you found with him earlier. His hands locked around your hips, holding you steady as he used your body in long, powerful thrusts.
You cried out, nails shooting out to rake down his back and biting into your skin. When you found his ass and dug your claws there, he groaned loudly, hips stuttering for a moment.
The look in your eyes was pure adoration. You could see him in every light and shade that was him. Every kindness, every jab. Every happiness, every sadness. Every help, every hurt. Every bravery, every fear.
You accepted it all, because they all swirled together and made the man you loved.
You hoped he saw all that too.
The feelings took you over, and you decided you wanted more of him.
You opened your mouth and spoke:
“I love you.”
He let out a choked noise. Again, his hips staggered, almost losing the rhythm completely. “You—you don’t gotta say it now just ‘cause I’m inside you, sweetheart.”
You pushed back against him, refusing to fall for his deflections. “Then stop and listen.”
He didn’t hesitate when the word ‘stop’ left your mouth and did exactly what you asked. Immediately, Joel halted his hips. His chest heaved with exertion, and the muscles in his arms were strung tight as he tried to keep his whole body up to look down at you.
Your shiver hand slipped over his back to his face, cupping the hair on his jaw.
“I love you. I mean it. I love you and everything you’ve done for me, and I’ve missed you. I’ve missed us. I don’t think I’ve ever had someone who’s understood me as you do.” You tilted your head, letting the feelings take over. Tears—not of sadness or fear, but rather joy—gathered in the corner of your eyes. “And I know we’ve had our ups and our downs for almost two decades, but I wouldn’t want to do it with anyone else.
“You make me feel confident with happiness smushed in it. I haven’t been both those things in a long time. And when you came here for me, I realized that it’s a fight. We gotta fight for each other. So I want to fight for you too. There’s nothing I would rather be doing than spending time with the love of my life. You, Joel Miller, are my heart, soul, and mind, since the day we were born. Together, as one.”
Your heart hammered. You hadn’t expected to be this honest, but the words had started pouring out, and unable to stop. After a certain point, you didn’t want to.
You wanted him to know just how much he meant to you, and wouldn’t stop at nothing until he knew.
Yet, before you could continue, something wet dripped onto your face. You blinked and touched your cheek. It wasn’t your sweat rolling over your skin, or any leaky pipe from your ceiling or melting snow from the outside.
No.
A steady drip, drip, drip fell onto your face, with seemingly no end to it. You gasped when you focused.
It was Joel’s tears, now falling faster than you could process. His face was scrunched up into so many emotions, you couldn’t figure out which one he was feeling the most. The hard planes of his face were unbearably soft. Instinct took over, and you reached for him, trying to comfort and take back the intensity of your words.
“Don’t cry, baby,” You whispered as you kissed the line of his jaw. “I didn’t mean to make you cry. I just wanted to be honest with you.”
Joel sniffled, “They ain’t… they ain’t sad tears, I promise.”
“Then why—”
“‘Cause I love you so much too, and cryin’ is the only way I can express it right now. I denied myself love for so many years, too many years. I gave up everythin’ that made me happy so that others could live their lives to the fullest. I thought that would fill the hole that was my fuckin’ life. But it didn’t. It silently made it so much wider, and I didn’t even realize it.
“But I have you. I’ve had you for years. I pushed you away, I reeled you back in, then pushed you back out ‘cause I was afraid of that hole. I don’t feel that fear anymore.” Joel cracked a smile and a wet laugh. “When I look at you, I see the joy that was stolen from me, and I denied myself. I fight for you ‘cause I want to feel everythin’. And I wanna feel it with you.”
Your own tears came in steady streams, unyielding. They trailed over your features, down your temple and disappearing into your hairline. Joel whipped them away with his thumb.
“I love you, sweetheart.”
“I love you too, Miller.”
You sealed it with a heavy kiss, not lustful or sexual, but in a way that stitched two souls for the rest of time. As if you were telling this universe that in this life and the next, and the one after that, that there was only one person for you.
That it was this man right before you.
And you knew it was the same for him as well.
“Move.” You said against his lips.
He obeyed, hips resuming their thrusts. But it was as slow as a river, and when he pressed his forehead against yours, it felt just right. You didn’t need the frantic, hard thrusting, even if you enjoyed it.
All you needed was Joel.
Your legs wrapped loosely around his waist, heels resting on the back of his thighs. Foreheads pressed together, noses brushing, shared breaths warming each other’s lips. Every slow thrust felt like a promise: deep, full, and unhurried.
His hands cradled your face, thumbs stroking your cheeks as he moved inside you. You slid your fingers into his hair, holding him close, your bodies rocking together in a gentle rhythm. Soft gasps and quiet moans filled the small space between you.
There was no rush. Just the steady slide of him inside your warmth, the press of skin on skin, and the overwhelming feeling of being completely connected.
The pleasure built slowly, like a tide rising higher and higher. Your breath hitched, thighs tightening around him as the feeling crested.
“I need to come,” you whispered against his mouth.
Joel’s voice was full of warmth. “Come for me, sweetheart.”
It washed over you in gentle, beautiful waves. Your back arched, a soft, trembling moan slipping from your lips as your walls fluttered and pulsed around him. The orgasm was deep and sweet, happiness blooming in your chest alongside the pleasure.
Your eyes stayed locked with his the entire time, vulnerable and full of love. Joel watched you through it all, breathing you in, feeling every ripple of your release around his cock.
He kept moving through your climax, slow and steady, drawing it out until you were soft and glowing beneath him. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, holding him close as the aftershocks trembled through your body. His breathing grew ragged against your neck.
Soft, needy sounds started slipping from his throat with every thrust—quiet, broken whimpers he tried to muffle against your skin. His eyes were half-lidded and glassy as he fought to keep control, just like he’d promised. His hands gripped your waist tighter, fingers digging in as his hips started to lose their steady rhythm, becoming more desperate and shallow.
You could feel how close he was—how hard he was struggling to hold back for you.
“Come,” You commanded softly, lips brushing his. “Come for me, Joel.”
A wrecked sound tore from his chest. His hips jerked forward one last time, burying himself as deep as he could go.
Then he came.
Thick, heavy pulses of his release flooded into you, warm and endless. He kept coming, spilling so much that you could feel it leaking out around his cock, coating your thighs and the sheets beneath you. His whole body shuddered above yours, trembling as he gave you every last drop, filling you until you were overflowing with him.
Both your highs came down together, and you held onto each other to float back into reality.
Joel’s weight slowly settled more fully on top of you, but not enough to crush you. He stayed buried deep inside, softening gradually as your bodies stayed connected. You kept your arms wrapped around his broad shoulders, one hand gently stroking through his damp curls while the other rubbed slow circles along his back.
He nuzzled into the crook of your neck, pressing soft, lazy kisses there before finding your lips again. The kiss was slow because there was no urgency left, just the lingering presses of tongues and shared breaths. You melted into it, humming softly as his mouth moved against yours.
Every so often, one of you would pull back just enough to breathe, only for your lips to find each other again. Joel’s large hands roamed slowly over your sides and hips, while you traced your fingertips along the back of his neck and shoulders. Soft sighs and murmurs of contentment passed between you as the trembling in your bodies finally eased.
You pulled back, tugging his chasing lips, to speak.
“Stay…” Weakly, you pushed him to lie beside you, keeping his cock tucked right inside you. You hitched a leg up over his stomach to keep close.
Joel—ever the caretaker—didn’t stay still. He somehow found the strength to look back over to the dresser, to the food and drinks he had brought you. “Eat somethin’, at least.”
“Tomorrow…”
“Sweetheart.”
You snorted, then pressed your hand over his mouth to smother his words. “Shush, shush… I’m too—” You yawned, laying your head down on his chest, “—too tired to be eating. If you stay still, I’ll let you cook and stuff me full of food tomorrow.”
"Y'mean... thar's only fahv more hours... 'til mornin'..."
“Really, what time—”
“Two-forty-five.” Joel said after he got your hand off his mouth, going to pet the back of your head.
You nodded like you were able to keep up with the conversation, “Then… then in the morning… you can—you can feed me.”
“Alright.” That was all he needed to hear, apparently, because he moved you both until he was lifting the blanket and tucking you both underneath the sheets. The warmth made you feel even more tacky, but you didn’t care. “Then sleep. We’ll talk in the mornin’ ‘bout… well, everythin’.”
“I’ll sleep.”
“Mm, good girl.” Soft kisses were pressed along your face. Your cheeks, lips, nose, even your closed eyes. “I love you.”
“I love you more.”
“I love you even more.”
“Shut up, you cheeseball.”
“Never. You’re stuck with me.”
“You make it sound like it’s a bad thing.” You opened one eye and looked up at him. “But there’s nothing I would want more.”
I feel like I'm playing with dolls and making them kiss every time I write smut LMAO. But, about damn time these two have their way with each other!!
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let's stop using ai pictures of pedro for our fics, that's disgusting
As i mentioned before, i am changing it! I’m just out and not at a computer, so i don’t have my editing software on my phone.
This is a picture i found off pintrest, which i thought was from the movie Materialists. I have already had people mention it and i’m grateful they said so. No ai on this blog, no thank you!
just want to let you know that the photo you used for clause 46 of terms and conditions is ai
YOUR KIDDING.
Oh well that’s so, so embarrassing! I got it off Pintrest and I thought it was a really glossy picture of Pedro from Materialists! I’m really disappointed that it isn’t and now i’m gonna walk into the closet of shame.
I will be changing it then because i refuse to ai tf i’m actually kinda mad now.
Holy shit a surprise drop? I love you fleart 🙂↕️😭
^^ me dropping randomly in the middle of the night
MUCH love to you guys MWAH! I know you all will feel very content after this chapter. I’ll be going to sleep now and dreaming about your guys’ reactions and hoping I met your standards. Until then…
blurb - New Year’s Eve is a time when the whole world is on the cusp of change. You could say that you’re a changing woman, and Joel is a changing man. As you both make your way to help bring in the new year, you must decide if 2004 will be the year of you and him… together.
warnings - Brief description of a drunk parent. Discussions about past abuse, getting help, and relationships (good and bad).
Word Count: 21.5 k
December 31st, 1977
“And what’re y’all’s New Year resolutions?”
“Rev… revolut… revolutions?” Tommy tried.
That earned him a smack on the shoulder from his older brother, who sat cross-legged with his back against the couch, “It’s resolutions.”
“I said that!” The youngest Miller pushed back at Joel with all the might his eight-year-old body could muster. It only managed to teeter Joel enough to need his hand to hold him up, but it sent the message, “Stop bein’ such a know-it-all!”
“Stop bein’ a dummy!”
“You’re so ugly, Joel! No wonder Dad has to help you wash your face every night. You already have pimples like the teenagers.”
“You’re so fat, Tommy! That’s why Mama didn’t bake any of her cookies. She knows you’ll eat ‘em all ‘fore the end of the first day next year!”
“Take that back!”
“No, you do! You started it!”
You watched the two start to tumble with each other, throwing their weak fists at each other’s sides. You were perched far away from their drama, comfortable in your red dress on your daddy’s lap. He was sitting in his usual armchair that he always reserved in the Miller household. He laughed.
“Thank the Lord I don’t got any boys. See how they fight, Sugar Cubes?” He asked, pinching your cheek.
You raised an eyebrow when you saw Tommy trying to bite Joel’s foot. “They get so mad so fast.”
“Exactly. You ain’t as… unruly with your temper like ‘em,” Cooing over you, hugging you tight, even rocking you back and forth, “You just scream my ear off and I give you what you want”
Grinning wide, you clambered up higher on your daddy’s chest, “Like the toys I got at Christmas.”
“Like the toys you got at Christmas.” He parroted back to you.
All of your major holidays were spent at your house, usually. You always looked forward to it, dressing up all the rooms with decorations that matched the holiday. You and your mama would spend hours doing so. She’d hold you strong and rock you against her chest while she explained how she got a certain decoration.
Though, this year was different.
This year, the house was decorated, but your mama didn’t hold you. No, you followed her around as she held onto her fancy glass—the one only used when Auntie Lo brought her famous punch—and filled it up with the red water. She had lazily thrown around Christmas and New Year’s decorations, not bothering to fuss over them like she used to.
Your daddy and her got into a fight. A big one where he was suddenly screaming that he and you were spending Christmas and New Year’s at the Millers.
She had huffed, and barely able to stand up straight, slurred out something along the lines that she could finally drink in peace with you two gone.
So, you and your daddy had slept over for two days before Christmas. And for the winter holiday. And for the days following until today. You and him had set up camp in the Miller living room. Well, your daddy slept on the couch. Tommy and you shared a bed.
You smacked your daddy’s shoulder, suddenly filled with a big thought, “I have to tell you my… my resolution.”
“That’s right, you do. Tell me, Sugar Cubes, what’s your—boys, stop tusslin’ ‘round in your mama’s livin’ room, and do it outside!—New Year’s resolution? Hm?”
Ignoring the Miller brothers nearly strangling each other behind the couch; only the tops of their heads showing, you thought about it briefly. “Well, I wanna go to the ice cream.”
“We already go all the time.”
“I know.” You poked your daddy’s cheek. “But I wanna eat ice cream when it's cold outside.”
“Sugar Cubes,” Your daddy said carefully as if he didn’t want to break your heart, “It’s a goal you’re gonna reach. Like… like you’re gonna read thirty books by the end of the year. Or—or tryin’ somethin’ new, like fried onion rings.”
“But I am! Ice cream in the cold.”
“That ain’t really—” But when he looked at your pouty expression, how soft your eyes had gone and how you looked at him like he was the most important man in the world, he broke, “—y’know, what the hell. Yeah, ice cream in the cold, that’s gonna be our New Year’s resolution.”
“Yeah?” You asked with anticipation.
“Hell yeah! I’ll go get you your favorite flavor while I get my rum raisin with mint chocolate—”
You wrinkled your nose.
“—and I’ll make sure it’ll be the coldest day all year.”
“Promise? You jutted out your pinky.
He wrapped his much larger, rough, and worn pinky against your smaller and smoother one. “With my life.” Your daddy then ruffled your hair and kissed your forehead so many times you giggled and fought him off.
The noise seemed to call Tommy, who had Joel pinned underneath him. “I wanna know the promise!” He jumped up from his brother’s limp form and ran over to the chair. He clambered onto the armrest and fell into your daddy’s other arm with an oof!
“Well,” Your daddy readjusted so both of you would be snug, “Me and Sugar Cubes here said that we’d have ice cream on the coldest day of the year.”
“Oh! I know what my revolution is.”
“Resolution, Tommy.”
“Shut up, Joel!” Tommy whipped his head around, probably to stick out his tongue at his brother. When he looked back, he was smug. “For my resolution, I’mma build my own house.”
“Ah, I see.” Your daddy nodded along.
“Mhm. And it’s gonna be in my backyard, right next to the shed. Then, me and her will be able to hide there from… from Joel.” He whispered that last part.
“I can still hear you,” Joel came padding over. You noticed he had on ridiculous socks; little reindeers with fake horns that flopped around, and red buttons on his big toes. He stood right by the chair, and somehow, your daddy managed to scoop him up with a grunt, placing him right next to you.
Joel’s whole big, ten-year-old body came to squish you harder against your daddy’s chest. Joel held himself up mostly, but he still made little noises and held himself a bit of distance from you, choosing to sit closer to your daddy’s knees.
“Tell me, son.” Your daddy looked at Joel, amused. “What’s your revolution?”
Tommy giggled while Joel rolled his eyes. Then, he looked down at his fidgeting hands. “I wanna bake somethin’. Like cookies.”
Your daddy’s face softened. “That’s perfect, Joel. What would ya make?”
At the encouragement, Joel’s eyes lit up. “Chocolate chip. That’s what my mama makes outta her cookbook, so I wanna see if I can make it too.”
“I’m sure you can. In fact,” Your daddy peered over Tommy’s head, then came close. The three of you leaned in close to hear his hushed words, “I’m sure whatever you make you’ll be way better than Lo’s cookies, but don’t tell her though.”
Three sources of giggles rang throughout the room. You and Tommy knocked shoulders together while Joel tilted his head back as his shoulders shook. Your daddy soaked it all in, trying to hug all of you, his own laughter booming through it all.
Your daddy just knew how to make people laugh. Even though your mama hadn’t been nice to him at all, he still kept a smile on his face and made sure that you could enjoy everything as well. You hoped you were that person for him too.
“Now, why do we have four people laughin’ up a storm over here!”
Lifting your head, you gasped. Your Auntie Lo was standing in the entryway to the hallway that led to her bedroom. She wore a dress way different than anything that you had seen her in; it was red, like yours, but way more form-fitting. It was the typical length, around mid-calf, but the fiery red lipstick she wore made her look so much bolder.
Joel and Tommy sprang up from your daddy’s lap, running to their mama and hugging her tight. She squealed as they moved around her, asking a million things.
Your daddy ran his hand over your back and murmured something about resting on his chest. You listened so the sad feeling wouldn’t come back. He had noticed it before you had.
His chin was tucked right over your head, but you couldn’t stop staring. Uncle Ray also walked out soon, a matching red flannel that surely Auntie Lo forced him to wear. He picked up Tommy and ruffled his hair before he looked over to Joel and started threatening to do the same. Joel ran in the opposite direction, and unlike anything you had seen before, Uncle Ray actually chased him.
Three Miller boys running around while a Miller woman laughed the whole time.
You felt like you were sitting in the audience of a play. Unable to join the stage but wanting to do so, so bad.
You then realized you missed your mama.
Auntie Lo—just like your daddy—must have been able to sense emotions, because her eyes locked onto you and they softened beyond measure. She weaved through her boys, and her heels clicked, clicked, clicked all the way over to you. She then took a squat so that she was eye level.
“Well, honey,” She said in that sweet tang of hers, “I see we’re the only two matchin’.”
You blinked, looking up to Uncle Ray who had caught Joel, “I thought you and Uncle Ray were matching.”
“If you ask me,” Auntie Lo whispered, “He ain’t doin’ a good job. See, I had ‘nother shirt ready for him to wear, but he got sauce all over it! That’s why we were gone for long! I was lecturin’ him and makin’ sure he’d pay for it. So that shirt you’re seein’, ain’t the one to match me. But me and you… well, we girls got the memo, didn’t we?”
Unable to hold it in, your face lit up. You lifted your head from your daddy’s chest. “We did, Auntie Lo.”
She reached out her hands to you, and you did the same. She picked you up—even though you were a big girl—and placed you on her hip like nothing changed. Your daddy just laughed the whole time and reached for the remote, turning it on and thumbing through the channels to find the ball drop all the way in New York.
Auntie Lo gracefully made her way into the kitchen, the area dark. She didn’t turn on any lights, but still sat you down on the counter. The noises from the rest of the house seemed to fade away, leaving just you and her.
Your eyes felt heavy, but you blinked to stay awake—you swore to your daddy that you would stay up long enough to watch the ball drop—and could see all the food on the island. Cakes and hams and everything you could imagine lay before you.
Swinging your legs, you waited for her. She picked up a large platter of chocolate cookies and placed it right next to you. You and her picked up your own and started eating. Your smile was so wide it threatened to crack your face.
Auntie Lo wiped a crumb from your lip with her thumb. “Don’t y’think it's nice, havin’ some girl time? That way, we won’t be caught up in all their… rowdiness.”
You giggled, “I like that.”
She smiled small, “That’s perfect.”
You and Auntie Lo ate a bit longer in a shared silence. You didn’t need to say anything to enjoy spending time with her. You didn’t need to chase her.
She was so different from your mama. When she drank the fancy red water, she didn’t get mean. In fact, she got way more cuddly, kissing all the kids a whole lot more and ruffling your daddy’s hair. She even made Uncle Ray turn bright red and shy with how bold she talked.
She didn’t become mean, or rude, or cold and then regret it hours later. She was kind the whole time.
Outside of that, she was the perfect mama. She always woke up Tommy and Joel for school, made their lunches, and was there to pick them up from school. She made breakfast, lunch, and dinner, even sneaking in a nice dessert. She bought everything new.
You knew all this because Tommy wouldn’t stop rambling about it. It was the one thing you couldn’t talk about with him, because what would you say about your own mama?
Auntie Lo caught how you stared at her in wonder. She giggled, sticking out the tip of her tongue, “What’cha thinkin’ ‘bout? My newly waxed tiles? Did Tommy kick ya way too hard last night and it scrambled your brain?”
For some reason, honesty is what took over your mind.
“Sometimes, I wish I was your daughter, Auntie Lo.”
Unlike the comfortable silence that you and her shared a minute ago, this time she looked at you like you were a lost kitten. Her eyes darted over your face, going wide and soft and oh-so sad, as if her heart might break right then and there.
You didn’t get it. You were speaking the truth. It was only sometimes you felt like that.
“Why… why do you feel like that, sweet girl?” She asked carefully. She put her cookie down and placed a hand on your knee.
You shrugged, “My mama doesn’t hang out with me anymore. She likes to sit on the couch and watch TV and drink red water.”
“I… I didn’t know you were seein’ all that.”
“I see everything.”
“‘Course you do.” She murmured while brushing your hair off your face. The praise made you smile harder. “You’re a smart girl, after all.”
“Thanks, Auntie—”
“And if I could, I would take you in.”
You blinked at her. “What?”
Her arms came to wrap around you. She hugged you tight, face buried in your hair. Your chin was leaning against the crook of her shoulder and neck, and you could smell her perfume. Lavender with a hint of rose, something Uncle Ray probably got her.
“You’re my son’s other half. Like a twin. I see you as one, honey.” She confessed, “Every time you two match, every time you come down the stairs hand in hand, I feel like I carried you both. And seein’ you so sad… oh, I would snatch you up, keep you, and give you everythin’ you want.
“But you got good thin’s too. Look at your daddy, he tries real hard for you. I know you don’t see all the good ‘cause it’s covered with the bad, but it's there. Your home is yours, but this place will always be open to you and him. Even your mama. All of you are my family.”
“Really?”
She pulled back, and her eyes were wet. She looked up and padded her fingers underneath her eyes to keep the tears away. “You’re my daughter, always and forever. The one I could never ha—” Auntie Lo stopped herself from continuing. Instead, she shook her head and left a red kiss mark on your forehead. “How ‘bout you go get Uncle Ray for me, hm? You go play with Tommy and Joel.”
You wanted to say more, but she had already pulled you off the counter and placed you on the ground. She let you take your cookie and ushered you out. You were scrambled, replaying her words over and over in your head.
In a daze, you entered the living room, nearly running into Tommy. He was running in circles, but clung to you once he spotted your cookie.
He gasped dramatically, “I thought there weren’t any more chocolate cookies! I want it.”
You pushed him off, walking away. “It’s mine, get your own!” You turned away, huffing and marching toward Uncle Ray, who was in deep conversation with your daddy as they stood right in front of the TV, Joel in between them. “Uncle Ray, Auntie Lo wants you.”
He peered down at you, raising his eyebrows. “What for?”
“I don’t know, she just asked for you.” You said while snacking on your cookie.
Uncle Ray’s eyes widened bigger than you ever saw them. He looked over to your daddy, “Y’think… y’think she’s still mad at me for the shirt?”
Your daddy had never rolled his eyes so hard. He gave his best friend a hard shove on the shoulder, who muttered worried words to himself as he trudged over to the kitchen. That left you, Joel, Tommy, and your daddy all alone in the living room.
Though it didn’t last long. Your daddy looked around and promptly announced that the bathroom needed his presence. You all let out a chorus of ‘ews’ and ‘yucks’ while he laughed as he had never said anything funnier.
While he left, you turned your face to the ball. There were six more minutes until midnight, meaning that 1978 was coming around. You and Tommy would be nine, then. You wondered for a bit what nine-year-olds did before they turned double digits.
You looked over to Joel, who was flicking the red balls on his toes, and you scrunched your nose in distaste.
Suddenly, ten seemed like a very boring age to be.
You brought your attention back to Tommy, who was pouting right next to you for your cookie. Sighing, you broke off a piece and made a gesture. He grinned wide and opened his mouth, and you fed it to him.
Tommy—with his mouth full—came to hug you tight. “I’ll give you some of my food, deal?”
“No, you won’t.” You said but held on to him regardless.
“I will! I promise, just like your daddy did with you.”
You squinted in disbelief, but then remembered what Auntie Lo had said. You and Tommy were like twins. You practically were. And you knew that family always kept promises, so…
“Fine!” You rolled your eyes just like your daddy did. You took his hand and went to the TV, sitting cross-legged in front of the screen with Tommy nuzzled by your side. “Just watch the countdown with me.”
He marveled at the big numbers that counted down right before his eyes. Tommy then snapped his eyes behind you, and smiled. “Joel! C’mon, don’t be a stranger and come over!”
You didn’t need to turn to feel Joel nervously scooting closer and closer to your right side. All three of you watched the program, the view flicking from the crowd of people to the ball back to the crowd.
When you did look over, you saw he wasn’t looking at the TV. Joel was looking at the side of your face.
“Do I have crumbs?” You asked.
“Yeah.” He said. He took the edge of his sleeve and roughly wiped your mouth. You leaned toward him, letting him even hold the back of your head to keep you still. “There, all clean.”
“Look!” Tommy pointed to the screen, “Two more minutes. Where’s Mama and Dad, Joel? They’re gonna miss it.”
“My daddy too.” You added.
“Well, gettin’ your daddy outta the bathroom is a very hard thin’ to do, so I think we won’t have much luck there…” Tommy jested, but you still jabbed him in the shoulder with your fist.
“Mama and Dad are talkin’. Ground folk business.” Joel said with a responsible tone. “We can’t interrupt.”
You and Tommy glanced at each other with a wordless, ‘Is he serious?’ then shrugged. “Then we won’t interrupt.” You stated.
You both shot up at the same time and started making your way to the kitchen, with Joel following and blurting out all the reasons why you shouldn’t be going over.
Joel was such a rule follower! He never did anything that went against what was set in place. That’s why you were best friends with Tommy. Well, that and the fact you were his twin, so Joel was gonna lose either way.
Three sets of feet pattered toward the wall that separated the living room and kitchen. Tommy was closest to the entryway, with you pressed along his back to see if you could hear anything. Joel pretended not to be interested, but you felt his hand on your back, leaning in as well.
“Oh, Raymond! Don’t talk like that,” Auntie Lo’s voice echoed through the open door, “Just ‘cause you made me feel better doesn’t mean I’ll entertain all your jokes.”
“I’m just makin’ you laugh, honey.”
“Make me laugh ‘nother way.”
There was a short, wet smack! noise. Auntie Lo gasped.
“You dog! The children are in the other room!”
“They’re too consumed by the TV. As much as it annoys me that they sit in front of it all the time, it does mean for a great distraction…”
The wet smacks came back, in longer strands now. This time, Auntie Lo didn’t seem too offended. Tommy looked over to you with a worried expression.
“The countdown…” He whined, but Joel leaned over you harder to hiss at his brother.
“Shush! I can’t hear…”
“You’re just as nosy as us.” You inserted, squished between two Miller brothers.
“You’re even louder.” Joel bit back.
You were about to say something when Tommy’s hand repeatedly smacked your knee, telling you to lower your voice. You listened and went back to being silent and keeping your ears turned toward the kitchen.
“Watch ‘em—oh Raymond—hands!” Auntie Lo squeaked. Then, the clatter of whatever belonged in kitchens made itself known, along with a grunt from Uncle Ray. “I didn’t know you could still pick me up.”
“Don’t insult my strength. Runnin’ after those kids makes for great exercise.”
More smacks continued. “Speakin’ of kids… when they’re all asleep—includin’ Clyde, ‘course—I wanna ring in the New Year with you.”
“And what do you suggest we do?”
A hum floated out that crackled at the end. “Well… I don’t know if you remember this… but I seem to recall that one time when you used that belt of yours to—”
“Jesus Christ, what the hell is goin’ on out here?”
A lot of things happened at once.
Firstly, the shocked voice came from your daddy, who had just finished using the bathroom and was now curiously staring down at the gang of children listening around the corner.
Second, that said voice scared Joel so badly, he jumped up into the air. Of course, though, he had to move forward in his air time, landing straight on you. The back of your head knocked with his chest, earning a weird noise from you. That wasn’t all, as Joel’s now-falling body made your feet slip and topple over Tommy.
Third, it was three children falling straight into the entryway of the kitchen, which left you completely exposed. The pile of wiggly and groaning kids, with knees and elbows jamming into each other, made a commotion. Your face was buried in Tommy’s hair, but you lifted your head to glare back at Joel.
But on the way there…
Then, there was a scream, from both you and Tommy, in fact. So loud and high-pitched that your daddy and Joel yelped.
Because in the kitchen, Auntie Lo was perched up on the edge of the counter with her dress almost completely pushed up, and Uncle Ray’s hand had disappeared underneath it. Both of them looked like deer in headlights, frozen on the spot.
Tommy suddenly was thrashing around the most, using his hands to try and get you and Joel off his back, “Get off me! Ew, ew, ew!”
“What’s goin’ on?!” Joel questioned. When he looked over, he went eerily still. “Mama…? Dad…?”
“Oh my—oh my Lord ‘bove!” Auntie Lo screamed out loud. Even in the shadows, you could see her face turn a bright red. “The children! They—they heard—strike me down now, please Lord!”
“What the fu—” Your daddy stepped over to look, only to freeze too. He saw what you three saw as well, which was not a very friendly scene to look upon on New Year’s Eve. Your daddy backed away, hands lifted, “Seriously, you two?! Right now is when you gotta do this?!”
“Get out!” Uncle Ray thundered, but even that couldn’t stop all four people from staring at him and his wife.
Auntie Lo fought off her husband, but there was a clear conflict of interest, as at the same time, he tried to keep them both decent.
“Off! Get off me, Miller!”
“Your dress, honey—my belt!”
“Screw the dress! You’re too close—!”
“Wait—”
“Off, now!”
Finally, the worst part came when she pressed her hands on his chest, and with a great shove, pushed Uncle Ray straight off her. But because of her freshly waxed floor, he couldn’t find his footing. Uncle Ray slipped and fell backwards, arms waving like a rag doll.
And with one socked foot stuck up in the air, the back of his head fell onto the tiles with a sickening crack!
Five gasps escaped five mouths, and one long string of groans exited Uncle Ray. He clenched the back of his head with both hands, rolling side-to-side, and his eyes squeezed shut.
Almost immediately, your daddy jumped over you, Tommy, and Joel, while Auntie Lo scrambled from the counter, fixing her dress as she fell onto her knees to rush to her husband’s side.
“Three!”
“Raymond!” Auntie Lo cried out, gripping onto Uncle Ray’s shoulder to hold him still. “I’m so sorry! Baby, I didn’t mean to hurt you!”
“It’s… it’s ‘kay…”
“Are you okay?! Are you?!”
“Two!”
“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, you two, what were you thinkin’?!” Your daddy tried to help Uncle Ray’s up, but it only resulted in groans.
“Fuck—the lights, Clyde… turn ‘em off.”
“What lights?!” A nervous noise left your daddy’s mouth. He whipped his head around, noticing the kitchen lights were off, but the living room lights weren’t. “Oh shit, you might be concussed—”
“Concussed?!” Auntie Lo screamed.
“One!”
“It’s your fault!” You hissed to Joel, who had managed to get off you so you could breathe properly. “Why did you jump like that?!”
“‘Cause I got scared! Why did you make such a scene?!” Joel directed his attention to his brother.
“Mama and Dad were kissin’ too much, and his hand was gone! ‘Course I screamed!” Tommy glared at you now, “Why did you crush me?!”
All three of you huffed, staring each other down.
And through it all, New York City’s great ball suddenly dropped, and cheers echoed through the speakers that took over the entire room:
“Happy New Year’s!”
❛ ━━━━･❪ 🎕 ❫ ･━━━━ ❜
“Slowing down, Miller?”
You whipped your head around, arching your eyebrow at the sight of Joel huffing behind you, the air puffing around his mouth and floating up into the air. His glasses were slightly askew, and his scarf was looped high up his neck. A smile slipped onto your lips.
Joel huffed, twitching his pink nose. “Let’s not say too much now. I’m the one carryin’ the confetti.”
“And I’m the one guiding us, so pick up the pace.”
You turned on your heel, boots clicking as you turned before you could reach the building door, heading into the alleyway instead. Joel made a small noise, but despite the clear hesitation you could hear, he ended up following. The lights from the city blocked out, the darkness of the night floating down between the brick walls.
A fire escape on the left of the alleyway wound up, slick with ice but the only way up. You had taken this path for the past nine years, hauling up the box yourself with no help. Surely you could manage this year.
The first ladder was already unlocked, brought down by probably some rowdy teenagers who were trying to enjoy some New Year’s Eve fun. You gripped the handles, the cold still seeping through your glove’s fabric.
You took the first flight, leading both you and Joel up higher to the first landing. You kept your eyes on the man behind you. Joel had no issue finding his way up, propping the box on his hip and using one hand to steady himself.
“Need help?” You offered, rounding to make your way to the next set of stairs.
Joel shook his head, “No, no. I got it.”
“I could carry it one flight, you the next.” You placed one foot on the first step of this new ladder, but you waited.
He tilted his head back as he made it onto the same landing as you. He even groaned slightly, stretching his back like he was already tired. His eyes met yours, and even through the glare and shadows, you could see the darkness in them.
“Sweetheart… walk up ‘em steps.” He murmured, “There ain’t anythin’ you gotta worry ‘bout.”
You swallowed, trying not to feel everything he was saying to you wordlessly through his eyes. You could only nod, leaving him to keep up.
Snow fluttered onto your skin as you crawled higher and higher, as the lights became smaller and smaller. The noises also disappeared slowly, leaving only your and Joel’s footsteps ringing through the alleyway.
You, then Joel.
One, then another.
Soon, the rooftop revealed itself, a familiar place you had only seen with snow covering everything. You were sure this was where the employees met up, with two small tables you were sure were from a free garage sale and different colored and styled chairs.
There was only a small concrete railing surrounding the roof, forcing you to lift yourself up and over with a small grunt as you made it to the other side. The snow crunched underneath your boots as you made it further from the fire escape, until you made it to the other side.
You placed your hands back onto the wall, this time breathing in, then out, as the cold air took over you.
From this angle, it was a clear sight of the crowd down below. It was deafening, their cries and cheers, waiting for the ball to drop. Colors of every side and possibility lit up the night and the building. Each billboard had everything for the next year, all the companies trying their best to get into everyone’s face.
Your hair brushed against your cheeks, and you grinned at that. You stood at this very spot, year after year by yourself alone, making everyone’s New Year's a little bit more magical—at least, you hoped so.
Leaving New York six months ago, the one thing that pained your heart more than the humiliation was the thought of leaving this tradition behind. It was one of the few things you did for yourself that wasn’t in service to others. Rather, it was to fill the space inside of you that had been made empty by the constant loneliness you preferred in those thirteen years.
You had never been happier to be back.
Suddenly, behind you, the box fell with a soft thump. When you looked to your right, you saw Joel right next to you. He too was taking in the view, everything they had to offer. The lights caught his glasses and played like a kaleidoscope. You watched his awe until he looked back at you.
“What?” He played with the end threads of his scarf a bit like he was nervous. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m just shocked seeing so many people excited for New Year's.”
“Well, the city of New York does have a population of around eight million.” You retorted. “I’m sure that’s a bit more than the usual handful of Millers that you cheer for every year. Also, humor me real quick; How long do we have?”
He flicked his wrist to check his watch. Joel whistled, “Thirteen minutes to spare.” His hand then went to rest on the railing. “Yeah, the family don’t really get excited like this, not anymore. There’s been too many kids and babies to keep track of. ‘Cept my dad and mama. They’re two people we gotta control when the ball drops.”
You chuckled, slipping into the past easily, “I think we were… eight and ten, maybe? Either way, remember when we had the countdown on the TV at your place, with my dad off somewhere. Your parents had disappeared, while we had a minute left.”
Joel laughed out loud, tilting his head back as his voice boomed out, “I do remember. All three of us wanted them to be right by our sides when the ball dropped, so we scurried ‘round the house lookin’ for ‘em, only to not only miss it, but find ‘em makin’ out in your kitchen.”
“Ugh!” You tried to blink the memory away of Raymond and Lorraine Miller locked at the mouth, with her being pressed up on the counter and his hands wandering way too low for it to be simply friendly. “I could live a whole lifetime without seeing that.”
“They were actin’ more like teenagers than we did.”
“God, this is making me think about our parents when they were young. Do you think they enjoyed… being rowdy?”
“Rowdy’s the word you’re usin’?”
“Well, do you have a better one?”
“I’d say… improper.” Joel supplemented, “I don’t think my Mama or Dad were drinkin’ and smokin’ their brains rotten when they were sixteen.”
“Hey, you never know. Anyone’s parents could have lived a double life. You think Sarah would believe you if I told her half the shit that happened to us when we were her age?”
“She’d laugh in our faces, that’s for sure.”
You both laughed at that, imagining Sarah pointing in both your faces and clenching her stomach as she rolled around on her bed in disbelief. It was moments like these that you missed her. Those moments when you knew her face-to-face were sparse but strong. And she had plagued your life just as much as her daddy did, even if you didn’t want to admit it.
In fact, a lot of people haunted your life. Raymond and Lorraine and all the times you hadn’t called them. Tommy and how many times you could have gone home when he wasn’t deployed. Your daddy and all the time you could have spent with him before his tumor became too much. Even your mama- maybe you would’ve found the courage sooner and talked to her.
Rather, all of them had one thing in common: the number of holidays you could have had with them. Thirteen years of it, all gone.
Now, going fourteen.
“Don’t worry, they're all havin’ fun.” Joel studied your face, frowning when you went quiet. Of course, he had read your mind. “They were all makin’ way too much noise while we talked to your daddy.”
“Oh, I know they’re fine!” You waved your hand to brush him off. “It’s just… it’s just another year I haven’t been celebrating with everyone. It was one of the few things I was actually excited about when I went back to Austin in May. Though… I can appreciate the tradition I’m used to.”
Joel hummed, looking over the streets filled with people. “Guess you get both this year.”
You looked back at him, “What?”
He shrugged, “You got me, and you got the city. I know I ain’t… well, I ain’t exactly all you wished for. I’m sure I can’t replace what bein’ with your daddy, and everyone else feels like. But… but it is me.”
“And I’m thankful for that.” You placed a hand on his bicep. “Don’t think for a second that I would rather have anyone else with me on this rooftop. We wouldn’t even be here without you, Joel.”
“As I told you many times, this ain’t somethin’ huge I did.”
“I’m sure everyone could get a meeting with Treb Heining.” You said, dripping with sarcasm.
“Actually—”
“I was joking, Joel.”
You turned around, leaning your ass against the wall. The snow wasn’t blowing in your face, but it did push your hair to the side. Joel mimicked your movements and took the spot closest to you, with only the box between both you and him.
You nodded, “I like coming in early. It’s always loud, but… but it’s nice.”
“You like it? The noise I mean?”
You smiled, “You would think it’s chaotic or something, but really—this is going to sound stupidly poetic—watching others just have fun makes it so much more enjoyable.”
“Even if you ain’t a part of it.”
“What could I do about it?” You just shrugged, “It’s how I was. Kinda a loner.”
Joel didn’t answer. When you glanced back up at him, his eyebrows were furrowed as he looked down at the crowd. He looked concentrated on all the happiness being centered into one place.
“I was too.”
You turned to him, “It’s—”
“Don’t say it’s different.” He shook his head. “It ain’t and y’know it.”
“Isn’t it though? Kaia isolated you. She got in your head that you deserved it. Me on the other hand… I got comfortable being untouchable. You saw it when I just got to Austin. How uncomfortable I was, even with Tommy.”
“You were gone thirteen years,” Joel insisted, “We’ve lived whole lives. Tommy and me, we became daddies. You became the most successful out of us three. All of us comin’ back together was always gonna be strange.”
“But it was a time, wasn’t it?” You tried to push away the doubts that plagued you. “Working with you both, going to S.U.C.K.I.T… sleeping together in Dallas. Jesus Christ, what a night—or rather, what a year.”
Joel chuckled, finding amusement in it all. “I don’t know what we were thinkin’.”
“Joint frustration, hate, and liquor?”
“Yeah… that might be it.”
“I don’t regret it at all.” You stretched your arms high above your head so that the cold wouldn’t freeze your joints. “I mean—I did, slightly afterwards. I’m not going to lie to you.”
“I could kinda tell.”
“But I got an amazing relationship out of it. We tackled a lot of shit together. And to think, all we had to do was take off our pants.”
Joel muttered something under his breath you couldn’t hear.
Arching an eyebrow in question, you looked to Joel, who had gone a bit pinker. That certainly didn’t have to do with the cold. “What?”
“I… forget it. I’m speakin’ out of my ass.”
But you didn’t let him go. You swatted the air around him to tease. He fought you off, “No, no, tell me what you're saying.”
“You’re such a—god, you’re such a fuckin’ tease.”
“Me?! I’m the tease?!” You scoffed. “You’re the one whispering things I can’t hear, then getting in a little fit about it.”
“I said,” Joel finally relented, hiding in his scarf, “That it was a skirt. You were wearin’ a dress, and I flipped up a skirt—”
“You dog!” You gasped, pushing off the wall and rounding the box to stand right before Joel, “I can’t believe you would be thinking about that!”
“You brought up Dallas!”
“To reminisce! What, I can’t reminisce about the first time we fucked?”
Then, you both fell into a fit of laughter. Joel had to hold onto the wall to keep his body upright, his whole body shaking. You could see the quakes even through all the layers he was wearing. You walked in little circles, slapping your knee and howling into the wind.
Only you and Joel could comfortably discuss your sex life like it was nothing.
You only calmed down when you ran your hand up and down your chest over your jacket, teaching your lungs to breathe while you found the space between your laughs.
“Jesus Christ… you—you got a mouth on ya,” Joel said between fits of chuckles, wiping at the corners of his eyes.
“You do too, don’t get all Mister Joel ‘I’m so innocent!’ Miller on me. It doesn’t work, much less fool me.”
“I’m as innocent as a dove; I don’t know what’cha mean by that.”
You raised an eyebrow, “Liar.”
“Never to you.”
“Oh, what a gentleman!” You circled him, taking careful steps so you wouldn’t fall. “So all the things we’ve done make you a saint?”
“I don’t go doin’ it with everyone, so yeah, it does.”
You faux-gasped, rushing to him and placing your hands on his shoulders, “So I’m your first?”
“Oh, you ain’t goin’ be sayin’ all—”
“I’m honored, Miller.” You giggled, “Being your first time, your first girlfriend, your first everything.”
“I wish.” He said with a smile on his face, but you could tell it was sort of sad. “Maybe in a ‘nother life.”
The joy in your eyes slightly dimmed. He was right. It was surreal being here with him, but in the strangest, most different path to it. It was never a straight line with Joel. It curved and split and went up and down before it brought you and him together.
And wasn’t that a shame? You and him worked so well, yet your own faults and needs varied from time to time. As much as it hurt to admit it, sometimes, you weren’t his priority. Sarah was. Unborn or born, she took precedence over even you.
That’s why he chose to push you away, for Sarah. That’s why he kept silent about his pain, for Sarah. That’s why he lied, for Sarah. To be the savior rather than the saved, because who was Joel Miller if he wasn’t self-sacrificing?
You could say the same too. Your career took priority. You didn’t regret it one bit, and you were sure Joel didn’t either when it came to his daughter.
But now, neither of those priorities was screaming at you both to stop and rethink. Now, you and him were each other’s priorities.
Tilting your head, you smiled, “We could wipe the slate clean with us.”
Joel laughed at that, as if you were joking, “As I said, ‘nother life.”
“No, I mean… let’s start fresh.”
He blinked at that, “What do you mean by that?”
You slid your hands down to his, and gripped his fingers. You stared him down with a new set of determination that lit up your bones and made you want to try again.
Not just in life, but with him.
“I forgive you.”
Joel looked completely stunned, frozen in time, and completely lost all in the same moment.
“What?”
“I want you to know that I forgive you.” You changed up your words like he needed a different version to understand what you were saying. “I’ve realized that in my time with you—as a dad, as a partner, as a friend—that you are… protective, to say the least. And you had it all on you, so I can’t imagine what it must’ve felt like to be confronted with it all. Lying seemed like the only way to keep me, even if it wasn’t.”
“That much, I know for sure,” He spoke up, his shock wearing off. “It’s what we’ve come to terms with, but you don’t gotta see that and feel pressured to… to forgive me.”
“Why can’t it be? If I had a baby, I would’ve done that and worse, fuck my own happiness.”
“It’s just how I was—and am—wired.” His thumb ran over your knuckles. “I’ve always been willin’ to give everythin’ up for others.”
“So I’m telling you: I see that. And I want you to know that I don’t hold what you did to me against you. Not anymore. Not when you’ve shown me you’re capable of change.”
“Why? Why now?”
You couldn’t help but peer back down at the crowd. All the lives gathered in one place. How many of them have been hurt, hurt others, or hurt themselves? How many of them couldn’t live with forgiving because it was realizing what happened and that it changed you, for better or for worse?
You didn’t want to be like that.
“We grew up together just as much as we did apart.” Your voice was a weak whisper, barely able to be heard in the roar from below and the wind. “And I’ve accepted you’ve changed. And I think you’ve accepted that so have I. I don’t… I don’t exactly trust you—that we’ll have to work on—but I’m getting there. Your work isn’t in vain, because I forgive you.”
Joel looked like you had ripped his heart out of his chest with the most care one could. His hands actually shook in yours, afraid and real and all yours.
“You ain’t just… just pullin’ at my leg, right? ‘Cause that ain’t somethin’ you should joke ‘bout, sweetheart.”
It made you sad that it would be a possibility that you would ever joke about you and him. “No, it’s never a joke. I just wanna—”
You couldn’t finish your sentence because Joel took you straight into his arms. He pulled you into the biggest hug, standing up at his fullest height and throttling you around. He squeezed as tightly as he could, to the point where you felt like your insides might pour out of your pores and onto the roof.
You hugged back too. You were unwilling to let him be the only one to feel the pure glee of all this. Your face was buried into the side of his, laughing straight into his ear without a care in the world. All those snobby elites could see you be so glad and joyful, and you wouldn’t feel a lick of shame, not one bit.
When he did put you down, your boots had nearly clipped the side of the box, but you didn’t even notice. All you looked at was Joel and his sparkling face.
“I think this was an even better Christmas gift,” He admitted.
“I’m glad I could give you that, then.” You took it as a win.
There was more you wanted to say to him. Like how much you wanted to take him to all the other places New York had to offer around this time of year, but you couldn’t. The yells of the crowd got particular more louder and longer, as if something was approaching.
You pulled yourself enough from Joel to grab his wrist. He made a noise at how fast and hard you moved, but didn’t make a single complaint. You brought it up to your face with a perplexed expression that melted away.
Joel’s watch told you the time: one minute.
Your whole body felt as if it was soaring. You knelt, flipping the flaps open to reveal a million different colors. The confetti somehow managed to stay in the box, not being taken by the wind. “Alright, when it hits twenty seconds, we’re going to start tossing as fast as we can.”
“Twenty seconds?” Joel asked, bending at the knee to join you.
“It’s some math that Heining was able to figure out. Twenty seconds right before the ball drops gives it enough time for it to land on the crowd.”
“Smart man.” He murmured while he ran his fingers through the pieces of shiny paper. He checked his watch again, now hypervigilant.
“It’s beautiful, with how the math goes into it all,” You marveled. “I mean, how do you just figure something out like that?”
“Probably with way too much time on your hands.”
Your eyes flickered up to him. “That and dedication. Love of the craft, as one might say.”
He looked back at you, “Can admire a man for that.
You both waited for a moment in quiet, letting the wind brush against your hair and skin while you waited, and waited, until Joel looked back down and saw twenty seconds.
He didn’t even have to announce it. He simply started filling up his hands, then decided his arms were better. You followed suit, not wanting to fall behind.
Soon, both your arms were full of confetti, some of the pieces falling under the wind’s influence and floating away. You stood up, him right behind you, and you both shared a look, and at the same time, dumped the armful. For a moment, you and he stared at the reds, blues, greens, yellows, and all the colors in between falling.
And as soon as you started, so did all the other buildings. From spots on roofs you hadn’t even noticed, suddenly there were little bubbles of colors popping and heading toward the ground.
Together, it was like two worlds coming together to celebrate the birth of a new year.
But you couldn’t just stand there and admire. With the rest of the box still full of confetti, you and Joel both moved as fast as you could to try and get all out and into the air. Sometimes, your arms would accidentally lock into loops, and you would have to fight to get the bigger hug of color. Sometimes, your heads would knock together, and you would both laugh and shake it off.
Joel’s face was lit up so bright, he could’ve been the ball itself on One Times Square. He couldn’t stop the noises of happiness from spilling out, chuckling and muttering to himself as he went as quickly as he could go. It infected you, and forced you to move faster as well.
Soon, your box was empty, only a couple of stray pieces leftover. The math of it all was perfect; by the time the pieces would fall, it would be New Year’s. No one would even have to look up; the pieces would be there
Even with the confetti falling, you couldn’t help but stare at the ball. It glittered and glowed, just waiting to be dropped. It was the center of attention of the entire United States, yet you were closer to it than anyone else. No one could tell you that this wasn’t everything and more.
And then the crowd below began their countdown.
“Ten!”
You gasped, pushing your body onto the railing as you looked down. The confetti glittered and flickered as the light reflected off it.
“Nine!”
“Joel! Joel, look!” You grabbed him close, pressing your side against his. He made a noise as you clenched the sleeve of his jacket. “I told you it’s perfect math! Have you ever seen anything more beautiful?!”
He made no response.
It confused you, so you looked back up to him, but froze.
Because Joel Miller was only looking at you and nothing else.
“Eight!”
“I have.” He confessed. It was loud and unashamed. He owned it, even though his bottom lip quivered, and you were sure it wasn’t from the cold. “I’ve seen somethin’ more beautiful every day of my life.”
Your breath staggered.
“Seven!”
Joel continued: “I’ve lived with someone more beautiful than this. More beautiful than anythin’ I could ever lay my eyes on. And I got to see her in every stage of her life, even the ones I missed. And I loved each one. So yeah, I’ve seen hundreds of things better than this. ”
“What… what are you saying, Joel?”
“Six!”
He didn’t even bother to hide it.
The pain—no, the longing—that was etched across his face. His entire attention was transfixed on you, and only you. “I’m saying that I’d do anything for you. And I wanna… I wanna do this one last thin’ for you, but I don’t know if you’d want it. But I want—no, need it. I need…”
“Need what?”
“You. I need you, sweetheart.”
“Five!”
Your mouth fell open, and that’s when you fully turned to face him, no longer bothering with the ball, the confetti, or the crowd. No, all you could look at was the man on the edge of a rooftop in New York City, pouring his soul out.
Joel pressed his hand over his chest, right over his heart. “I’ve always needed you. Not in the co-dependent shit I was in, but in a way that just makes my life brighter. I can live my life, sure, but it wouldn’t be in full color, not without you. And I know, I didn’t give that to you. I was selfish and didn’t think ‘bout how I was affectin’ you. But I do now, so I’ve been… been tryin’ to add some color in this New York life of yours.”
“Oh, Joel…”
“Four!”
“Even if I don’t get anythin’ out of this—I don’t expect you to love me ‘gain and I don’t wanna force you—I need you to know this: I’m happy I got to have you as my girlfriend. I’m glad I got to have your love ‘cause Lord knows I wouldn’t have healed at all. It’s ‘cause of you, I’m a better man.”
“And I see it all!” You blurted out. “Don’t think I haven’t. You’ve changed, Joel, and for the better. It’s been amazing watching you grow, even though it’s been hard for me. This past year has been about healing, and I want next year to be… I want next year to be ours.”
You both looked into each other's eyes.
And you knew.
There was no more hiding.
No more running away, no more biting back, no more defense, no more hate, no more distance between you two.
Just you, him, and this rooftop, about to make a choice.
Turn your face back to the crowd, and let time take you somewhere else.
Or face it all with one person.
With him.
“Three!”
Your hands collided with his at the same instant, fingers twisting into fabric, yanking each other forward like the wind itself was trying to rip you apart. His chest slammed against yours, his jacket creaking under your desperate grip. For the first time in months, your body remembered what it felt like to be whole.
You looked at his face, the one you spent decades tracing and watching morph into the man before you. The hair that danced in the wind. The eyes that wouldn’t leave you, not for a second. The skin that was so weathered yet full of life.
The things that made up this man before you.
“Two!”
His face was suddenly inches from yours, breath warm against your lips. His hands slid into your hair, cradling your head like it was something he’d been terrified of losing forever.
The world narrowed to his eyes—relief, hunger, and a love so fierce it almost hurt—and you breathed him in: that familiar musk of cedar, the city grit still clinging to his skin, the scent of home you’d been starving for.
Home and power altogether in one.
Both sides of you pressed together into one person.
It was as if he was reading your mind; he spoke first. It was barely louder than the roar of the crowd, but it was all you heard: “I’m right here with ya… all of me. Every damn piece.”
Those words were all you needed.
“One!”
Time slowed, and the noises of the city slowly fell away, but not completely. All that was taking over your senses was the heat of his body, the thunder of your heartbeat, and the way his thumbs brushed your cheekbones.
You looked straight into him.
“I’m right here with you, too.”
“Happy New Year!”
And just like that, his lips were on yours, and everything was aligning once more.
Now, there was no noise, like time itself paused to let you and Joel have this. You didn’t move, and neither did he. His mouth against yours, unmoving as you both tasted the other. He was the same as the gala, that same taste and everything.
But it meant so much more.
His arms locked around you as he’d never let go again, and you kissed him back just as fiercely, pouring every unsaid word into his mouth. Fireworks burst overhead, but nothing compared to the storm igniting inside your chest.
Your lips moved with his, chasing the feeling of him as much as you could. There was no world where you would let him go now and slip between your fingers. You leaned in closer, chest to chest so that his warmth would envelope you.
Joel did the same, moving his big arms around your shoulder so that it was a hug and kiss all in one. The snow that fell down in lazy flutters landed on both your skins, but neither of you paid mind. There was only you and him in the moment, and nothing else.
When you finally parted—foreheads pressed together—he whispered so that the words would ghost over your face, so low you could barely hear them:
“You don’t know… how much I’ve fuckin’ missed you.”
He leaned back in to leave short kisses on your lips, that slowly spread over to the apple of your right cheek. You didn’t have the will to physically push him off.
What you did have the will for, however, was to breathe in his scent and kiss his cheek back. You missed the gruffness of his beard, and how it slightly tickled your skin if you moved against it. How the eye of the cheek that you would kiss would close at the force of your lips. How his chest would rumble deep, like a car. They were the simple things that you missed about him.
With a short huff, he pulled back. Joel had a smile so wide it looked like it hurt, and you even swore he had started to look brighter altogether. He wasn’t even staring at any of the festivities around that begged for attention; he seemed content with the fact that you held all his attention.
You smiled and pecked him once more, “Hi.”
He grinned, glasses pushing upwards, “Hey.”
“Was this your plan, then?” You questioned.
Joel had a perplexed look mixed in with his expression, “I didn’t have a plan. I just… I just really wanted to kiss you.”
“Am I still the same, then?”
“What’cha mean?”
“I don’t know…” You pouted, looping your arms around his neck to sway you both side to side, teasing him. “Am I still a good kisser? I haven’t had practice in a long time, and I didn’t want to gross you out—”
He had rammed his lips onto yours again, silencing your words. His tongue quickly flashed over your lips, breaking the seam ever-so-slightly but not enough. When he pulled back this time, he had a smirk lining his mouth.
“I’m not sure.”
“Excuse me?”
“In fact.” He looked back down at your lips, “Might need ‘nother couple more for this experiment of ours…”
“Now you’re just being greedy. One kiss isn’t enough?” You raised an eyebrow.
“I can show you how greedy you’ve made me.” His hands dipped lower over to your hips. Even through your thick jacket, you felt how tight he was holding you. “Though, I ain’t sure it’s exactly public-friendly—”
“Shush!” You giggled despite yourself, trying to cover his mouth. He weaved out of the way, but you managed to slightly catch him.
“Can’t be mad at a man for wantin’ more.” He smiled against your fingers. You couldn’t help but feel the chapped lips. “‘Speically when you’re right here ‘fore me. Like askin’ a dyin’ man not to beg for one last taste of Heaven.”
“If you’re that needy, I can’t really help but feel pity for you.”
You both leaned in again, with Joel’s eyes slowly shutting. “Yeah… feel pity on my soul.”
Kissing once more, you felt even better than before. The habit of being with him was refreshing itself in your mind. Your hand wandered up to his temple, feeling the groove of the scar there.
He parted from you, and finally looked back to the crowd, and so did you. Down below, many people hugged, cheered, and kissed, and all of it floated upwards, opposite of the confetti that now covered them. Lights poured from all the billboards, washing everything in a whole spectrum.
You got lost in the view, staring down at the scene you had been watching for fourteen years. This fourteen was your favorite, no doubt about it.
It was only when Joel pushed his nose against your cheek that you turned back to him.
His flushed face—from you or the cold, you didn’t know—was close to yours again. “Feels surreal, havin’ it all be live.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I've watched New Year's through my TV screen ever since I was a baby. It didn’t feel real even though it was, even after I started watchin’ it for Sarah and everyone else. Now, knownin’ you were up there throwin’ confetti, and I’m here with you now… Lord, I'm the luckiest bastard ever made.”
You looked at how
“Let’s go home.”
“You don’t want to stay?”
“I mean, I usually do. I didn’t really have anything better to do then,” You pushed his hand up, facing both your and his palms face to face before threading your fingers together. “But now I do.”
“Like what?”
You looked up at him, eyes completely enraptured in everything that was him. “You.” You brought your intertwined hands and brought them to your heart—right between your bodies—to keep them warm. “I want to go home with you.”
Joel blinked, the fog emanating from his mouth stopping.
For a second, you thought this would have broken him more than any kiss would’ve. Rather, you’d never see him leave your side quicker. He rushed over to the box, then came back already folding and crushing it in his hands very aggressively. You laughed the whole time, already backing away.
Snow crunched underneath both sets of boots as you made it to the ladder; one slow and dragged, while the other was as quick as a rabbit. Joel was glued to your side in an instant, keeping his eyes flickering between you and him.
As you both descended—you don’t know how Joel managed to keep the box in his hands while looking where he was going—your heart kept on finding a way to pound in your ears. You wanted nothing more than to be with Joel again, but the fact it was here was scarier than anything.
Once you and him hit the ground, the noises from the street were completely deafening. You couldn’t even hear your own thoughts, and had to hold onto Joel to guide him out into the alleyway.
People rushed up and down, screaming and cheering to each other as they enjoyed the first hour of twenty-twenty-four. Joel somehow found a recycling bin and tossed the cardboard box. Then, he took control of the guide, making sure you weren’t caught in the crowd or shoved at all. He acted like a barrier between you and the overwhelming chaos of New York City.
You were kept inside the sidewalk as you made it further and further away, but it seemed like no matter how far you went, there was still some kind of excitement. It was only when you and he walked for at least ten minutes that the noise became more bearable.
Soon, your building showed up, even the beacon. You never looked upon it too fondly, always holding yourself and it at a distance. But Joel had managed to breathe life into it, making the space like a home rather than a house.
You hoped he knew that.
The doorman wasn’t there—clearly enjoying his New Year—so Joel pushed the door open for you. His left arm held the door open, causing you to duck underneath. He followed, running his hand over your back as the door shut and found your hand again.
Even though the lobby was warmer than the outside, Joel’s hand was heating your own faster. All the staff was gone, leaving your footsteps echoing throughout the high ceilings and grand furniture. Joel was the one who guided you both to the elevator, the one who pressed the button, and the one who let you inside first when the elevator arrived.
He was such a gentleman.
As a reward, you pressed on your toes and lifted yourself to place a soft kiss on the apple of his cheek, nose bumping against the arm of his glasses. “Thank you, Miller.” You said as you slipped inside, your hand leaving his.
You were sure then that you had broken him.
Joel followed silently, then jammed his finger hard onto your floor level and even harder on the close button. It didn’t make it go any faster, and when the doors finally did close, his foot started erratically tapping, like he was losing patience.
You both rode in silence, well, you did ride in silence until…
“Does this elevator have any cameras in it?”
You looked at him, but he wasn’t looking at you. Instead, Joel had his eyes on where the elevator walls met the ceiling, that crease that surrounded you both. “They do. Why?”
“Inwards or outwards?”
“Inwards.” You huffed at this line of questioning. Contrast to his calm tone, you could see his hands visibly clenching and unclenching. “Gives privacy to the entryway of each penthouse.”
“Hm, I see.”
“Surprisingly, I’m not the only penthouse here. Actually, I think I have a downstairs neighbor or two. But they haven’t come back to this city in a long, long time. Never met them, actually.” Rambling, you tapped your chin, “Or maybe Michelle owns that penthouse too. I wouldn’t be surprised in the slightest, honestly.”
“Yeah…” He continued to look around. “And the windows to your place—no one can see through them?”
You raised your eyebrow, curious about his sudden interest in your home. “I mean, I do have tinted windows. But we’re so high up that people can’t see us, so it’s a bonus.”
“That’s good.”
“Actually, there've been a couple of times when I’ve pressed my face against the glass when I’d get drunk—” The ding indicated you were at your stop and the doors were opening, “—so I would be pretty embarrassed if someone saw that, but I’m pretty damn lucky—oh!”
The words were lost into the air because Joel had gripped your bicep so hard as he led you out of the elevator. There was a rush of air and then your back pressed against the wall with an oof. You didn’t have time to ask him what he was doing before his lips were on yours.
You couldn’t keep up with his barrage of kisses. His mouth worked against your own way too fast, overwhelming your senses. Even his body matched his pace, pressing you so hard against the wall that it dug through your layer. One of his arms was wound tight across your back, the other along your nape to keep you still.
His glasses bumped against both your faces, losing their perch on his broad nose. You gasped when it nearly clipped your eye, enough room to let his tongue graze your own. Yet, Joel frowned and pulled back, and you could see your flushed face panting.
“Sorry… sorry I didn’t mean to hurt you,” He confessed. As quickly as he kissed you, Joel removed his glasses and threw them somewhere over his shoulder, already leaning down toward you.
You gasped, letting two soft kisses against your lips before you spoke, “Your glasses! You don’t have another pair—”
“Worry ‘bout that later,” Joel murmured against your jaw.
Despite your shock, you still tilted up your head to give him room to trail down your neck. “Are you serious right now?”
Peck! “As death.”
Peck! “Stop talking so morbid—” He mouthed at your pulse, pulling out a shiver that racked through your whole body, “—o-oh god…”
Peck! His pathway was stopped by your heavy-duty jacket, and Joel started popping each gold button with hard tugs. Like a man with a mission. But he didn’t look like a man who was present with you. It took you placing a hand to bring his attention to you.
He was breathing so hard that you could see the rise and fall through his coat. His scarf was haphazardly skewed around his neck, like it was trying to strangle out what little air he had inside. His hair was ruffled even though you hadn’t touched it yet.
You placed both your hands on his chest to keep him at bay. “Slow down. You aren’t even taking full breaths.”
“I’m fine, sweetheart.” He deflected, pawing at the buttons again. Your frown must have changed his mind because he pressed his lips into a thin line, “I’m impatient, is all.”
You couldn’t help but laugh, tilting your head back and exposing the column of your neck. Joel placed more kisses there as you forced him to walk backwards.
“Well, if anything,” You unspooled both your scarves, starting a trail behind you. “I’m the impatient one.”
“Are you?” It was muffled against your skin. His coat nearly tripped you as you somehow removed it, your own following shortly behind.
“Yes, yes I am.” Admitting it was easy. The heater of the penthouse warmed your own bare arms and neck, beads of sweat from the frozen snow dotting your skin. “Because I’ve been waiting for so. Fucking. Long.”
That smile of his—goopy and wide—appeared on his face as his back hit the glass windows. He grunted, but kept his hands locked on you. “I’ve waited too long too, but I didn’t want—didn’t want to scare you.”
“A gentleman, then.” You placed kisses all over his scratchy jaw. “Very different from me.”
“How?”
“Because I—” You went down his neck, overspilling to the fabric of his shirt, “—have no self-control, Joel. ”
He watched with bated breath as you lowered yourself further and further, down the hard planes of his chest. Even with the fabric keeping you from his skin, it made him want to dig your teeth into the softness of his belly. A softness that hadn’t been there, more prominent now.
That made you more giddy than anything.
The floor was cold against your knees, a contrast to Joel’s hands that had cupped your face to tilt you upwards.
“Don’t—don’t be there.” The almost begging in his tone made your heart soar. You missed that, “I don’t want you on your knees. I want you here, with me.”
You ran your lips over his belt, the leather cold, but his buckle was freezing. “But I want to see it.”
“See what?”
Biting down on the metal, it caught on your teeth, and your bottom lip grazed against his bulge. “I wanna see how much you want me.”
Then—before he could speak—you ducked and mouthed over the semi-hard cock through his jeans and boxers. You didn’t know how much he could feel, but from the way a broken groan echoed throughout the living room, it was clear it was working.
You didn’t need to unbuckle him, pop his button, or unzip his pants. Your wet lips and tongue were enough. The fabric tasted rough and salty, with a distinct scent of just him. You didn’t lose eye contact one bit, and neither did he. You both stared deep into each other's eyes with the full intent of seeing who would break first.
God knows it wouldn’t be you.
“S-sweetheart, at least lemme get a damn pillow,” Ever the gentleman, he brushed your hair from your face, “Don’t want you hurtin’ ‘em knees of yours.”
"Mmmph—'m good, baby—" Your voice was completely muffled by his clothed cock.
“You’re actin’—oh fuck—real pushy tonight,” He chuckled with the little control he had. “I thought we were done fightin’.”
“When did I say that?” You peppered kisses along his hardening shaft. “I just kissed you at New Year’s, and that’s it.”
“We kissed at the gala. I-I thought that kiss meant we were good. I thought I was yours ‘gain.”
“You are mine. I kissed you right there in front of all those women eye-fucking you… and you just stood there, Joel.” You pouted as if you were hurt—you weren’t, but you liked teasing him to think so. “You didn’t touch me afterwards when we got home. You just pinned me against a wall and pulled my heel and slept in my bed.”
“Y-you gotta slow down,” Joel’s gentle hands went tight as you suckled on what you assumed was his tip. After you stopped, he continued; “I was tryin’ to be respectful. I didn’t wanna push you after everythin’. I figured you’d tell me what you wanted.”
“Well maybe I wanted you to push me. Maybe I wanted you to show me who I belonged to instead of playing the gentleman.”
“I’m tryin’ real hard to be good to you right now…”
“Then stop trying so hard.” You nipped with your teeth, forcing him back, but to where? The windows kept him confined to exactly where you wanted him. “I’m on my knees mouthing your cock, and you’re still being sweet? Bite back, Miller. Or does thirty-six mean you’ve gotta invest in dentures. So early?”
“Hey—watch that mouth of yours.”
A thrill rushed over you. He could be nice all he wanted, whine and buck against your face, but you knew Joel. You felt that version of him when he suddenly wrenched your head back from his crotch, and held your jaw with his thumb probing against your mouth. You opened, and let his thumb find the space between both rows of teeth to hold you there.
Those kind, gorgeous eyes went slightly dark, almost a bit mean. You saw those exact eyes before, miles away in Austin with just you and him.
You saw those eyes in Tommy’s office, unafraid and bold.
You saw those eyes on his couch, vulnerable and loving.
You saw those eyes in his kitchen, commanding and guiding.
You saw those eyes in Dallas, all-consuming and needing.
The urge to push him over the edge took over every fiber of your being. You bit down on his thumb, swirling your tongue over the rough pad. When he slightly pulled back, a clear ring of teeth marks was left.
You smirked.
“Make me.”
Neither of you made a move. You both dared the other to. You, on your knees with your back straight and your determination like iron. Him, standing tall and towering over you with his desire burning hot like fire.
Surely, you would crash somewhere in the middle.
Quicker than you could react, he hauled you up and held you until you pressed against the window. Your hands braced your body against the cold, and you could see the whole city. It was slightly disorienting to see all the lights so close.
You were always able to see far from your penthouse—all the way to the Empire State Building—but it felt as if you were floating outside with only the muffled sound of honking and life from below, and the gush of airplanes above.
The only steady thing was Joel’s body nestled right behind you, all of him pressed tight against you. His chest straight along your back, his thick thighs spreading yours wide. His hands started an endless tracing of your stomach, just underneath your breasts.
His voice was a rumble in your ear, “I thought… I thought this would be sweet ‘tween us.” He squeezed that flesh on your hip, “Take it real slow and treat you like the woman you are.”
“That’s all you got? Come on—“
You yelped when he tugged back your hair, forcing you to look up at him. It burned every-so-slightly, but you relished it. There was a flicker of concern in his eyes at the noise you made, but when you grinned wide, he merely grunted.
“‘Stead, you wanna play rough. We can play rough, sweetheart.” He used your nickname as a warning. He let go of your hair enough to force you to look upon the city. The same one that brought you so much pride and sorrow in one. “I’ll fuckin’ show this whole city who you belon’ to.”
You whimpered, “Then do it already. Stop being such a—”
“Lord, I forgot how much ya talk when you’re bein’ difficult.” He laughed as if he found your attempts to fight back funny. “That’s okay. It’ll make it all the more sweeter when I shut you up.”
With a sharp tug, your shirt was untucked from your jeans and lifted. The smooth skin of your stomach was revealed, then all of you as he wrangled it over your head and tossed it away. You were bare, only in your bra.
Then, both of you snapped your hands to your crotch. You popped the button while he pulled down your fly. Joel mouthed at the spot right below your ear, while you parted your mouth in an ‘o’ and tipped your head back onto his shoulder. You somehow remembered to kick off your boots. It was all a mutual teamwork that poured over both your senses.
Joel pulled your jeans down your legs, and you helped just enough to step out of them and kick them across the floor. The cold pane of the window bit at your skin, but Joel was there to warm you up.
He spun you around, locking his lips onto yours once more. Your hands finally slipped through his hair, gripping him tight and moving him with your body. You kept him close, to the point where you would melt into him if you could.
Before you could mutter his name, he was already lowering himself onto the ground with a grunt. You held onto his shoulder as he gazed up at you like you were everything he wanted and everything he needed.
His head leaned over to your thigh, resting his forehead there. Then, his tongue darted out, tracing along your skin in wide strokes. Joel never went where you needed him—your throbbing clit between your legs—but rather, he worked your body, lifting your leg.
You could only watch as he made his way down to your ankle, then back up. Closer and closer like an animal stalking toward the thing it wanted most. His eyebrows pinched upwards as he went up your shin, your knee, then the softness of your thigh.
“Pretty woman,” His rough fingers pried your legs apart, and when his daze dipped to your pink panties, his mouth opened. An awed expression took over him, “‘Course you also got the best panties in the world.”
You huffed as he traced along the line where your panties met your skin with just his lips. “Who’s talking too much now?”
“Hmm…” Gentle as a stream, he lifted your right thigh and placed it on his shoulder. You nearly fell over, but with his other hand on your left leg and your hands on him, you held yourself straight. “Just makin’ an observation.”
His fingers reached up between your clothed mound, brushing at where your slit started. It wasn’t enough to reach your clit—he would’ve put his hands there already—but the short ups and downs he did were enough to have you already squirming.
Instinctively, you pushed your hips, but he drew back, tutting his tongue. His fingers stopped altogether.
“If I wanted your help, I would’ve asked, wouldn’t I?” He said, so soft despite the fact he was being so mean.
You bit the inside of your cheek, about to respond with something sharp, but the way he held his grip made you swallow your words. Every part of you wanted to fight back and say something snarky, but you wanted relief more.
Relief from this torment of having his body gone for so long. Relief from the loneliness that had taken over you, then thawed away when he was back—relief from not being with him.
So, you simply kept quiet and held your hips in one place, not pushing or pulling back. He sensed that, and it seemed to please him. He reached under your panties, spreading your lips wide. Then, he pushed the fabric right over your exposed clit, opening you up to the roughness of the silk.
And finally, instead of his fingers, he brought his mouth forward, and laid one long stripe over your, and directly on your clit.
You let out a high-pitched, shocked gasp. Your hands shot up to his hair, gripping him hard to hold on. His spit already seeped through, adding to your sweet slick seeping from your cunt.
You were so lost, you almost didn’t hear Joel make a squeak in his throat, and the pause. It was a complete one-eighty of his previous words. When you looked down, you couldn’t help but gape. Joel had an awed, almost pained expression. He licked his lips, as if tasting you.
When he looked at you, he was starving.
“Take off your panties.”
“What—“
But you couldn’t finish before Joel had started tugging at the waistband, pulling them down your left leg. You staggered trying to get out, but Joel somehow managed to get your panties to hang off your right ankle.
Then, he held nothing back.
Joel buried his face in between your thighs, eyes rolling back in his sockets as he became completely lost in the taste of you. His tongue was smooth and wet, sliding perfectly against your clit. You threw your head back, a hard thud when your head hit the back of the window.
You didn’t care, though. All you could focus on was how he sucked with his tongue. He switched between long licks and short, fast suckles that had your thighs shaking. He noticed, even though he was consumed. Joel ran his hand over your skin to keep you grounded.
“Fuck—Joel, right there,” You pushed his head downwards. Joel hummed and listened, following the rolling of your hips. You were sure he only allowed it because he controlled how your hips moved.
He used that power, forcing you to present more of yourself to him. His tongue went straight into your hole, nose bumping against your nose. You swore you felt him huffing and breathing you in, “Mmmph… oh sweet girl… pussy tastes so good… hah… never forgot the taste…”
“Just like that, just like that…”
Your fingers tangled in his hair, hips grinding shamelessly against his face now. Joel growled into your cunt, vibrations shooting straight through you. He pulled back just enough to spit on your pussy, watching it drip down before diving back in.
The sexual frustration had been building up, and threatened to blow through the carefully laid dam you had built up. The pressure was growing higher and higher, and he didn’t let you get any rest.
You encouraged him with a moan, squeezing your eyes shut.
Then, you felt his mouth remove itself.
You nearly whined out and snapped your eyes open immediately. When you tilted your head down to say something, he had already beaten you.
“Keep ‘em eyes of yours open, or this stops.” He said with the utmost seriousness.
You, with the opposite, huffed, chest rising and falling, “I’m trying. It’s just been a long time, okay?”
“Whinin’ ain’t gonna get you nowhere. In fact…” He leaned back more. “…might get you further from what you want.”
A slight panic filled your chest. You kept yourself completely still. “Come back—”
“Beg for it.”
“Don’t say that…”
“Aww, what’s the matter, sweetheart? Don’t know how? Forgot you usually ask?” Your nostrils flared, almost offended by his words. But he knelt there patiently, almost amused. “I could give you a demonstration, ‘course. I’ll tell you everythin’ you need to say.
You wanted to stop him, the humiliation and need burning your skin, but you couldn’t. Joel had already dropped the corners of his lips and pouted. He was so into the bit that his bottom lip quivered. His body pressed against your leg that was standing on the floor, like a puppy begging for more. He even rubbed his face against your thigh, beard scratching you.
“‘Please, Joel,’” He started, trying to imitate your voice, “‘I’ve been achin’ for two months, and my pussy’s been wantin’ your tongue. I’m sorry for bein’ such a brat earlier. I don’t know what got into me. I’ll be good now. I’ll be your good, good girl…’ See, all you gotta do.”
You licked your dry lips.
“Fuck you.”
“Not beggin’ exactly.”
“I’m not going to beg. You can’t make me do anything.” With more mental strength than you realized you needed, you slowly slid your right thigh off his shoulder, your panty dropping to the floor. “I’ll just go upstairs and take care of myself.”
He stared at you. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking. He frowned, then stopped, then started again.
All the while, you grinned inside and never felt happier pushing him.
What would he do? Would he take you to the couch and spank you raw? Was Joel even capable of that? Would he turn you back around and fuck you against the window—you didn’t mind that at all—and speak roughly in your ear? Would he tie you up and use you as he wished?
What would Joel Miller do to—
“Alright.”
He stood up, smiling small like this wasn’t the most you had ever talked back to him during sex. He gave you a chaste kiss on the lips, and picked up your ruined panties. He held them to you, and when you didn’t take them, your mouth still open, he simply sighed and bent back down, helping you back in them.
One foot and then the next, and he was pulling your panties up your hips. Joel made sure everything about you was clean; wiping away sweat, cleaning up your lips from your spit, even fixing your falling bra strap. He did it all with no complaints.
“You want help gettin’ into bed?” He asked, playing with a strand of hair, “We did climb a shit ton of ladders, up and down, so I don’t want you to pull a muscle. Then I’ll—”
“What are you doing?”
“What you told me.”
“But I never said that.”
“You said that you would go upstairs and take care of yourself. And that’s what you’re gonna do.” Joel pulled you in by the waist, running his other hand up and down your ribs. “You’re gonna go upstairs, and you’re gonna make yourself come without my help, and I’mma stay in my room and sleep. I’m happy ‘nough knownin’ I kissed you, and we can talk in the mornin’.”
“Oh, you’re such a—”
“I’m a what? A bastard? A mean asshole? Nah,” He kissed your forehead, already stepping back and walking backwards. “I’m kind. I ain’t gonna make you do anythin’ you don’t want to. I only asked you to beg, and you said no, and that’s it.”
He made it his mission suddenly to clean up all the clothes. Your shirt, your jeans, your boots. His jacket, your jacket. Your scarf and his. When he finally gathered it all, he dumped them onto the sofa to fold.
It was worse than his birthday. At least then, you could tease and break him in so he would come rushing back. You didn’t have the will for that. You wanted all his attention, all his skin, all his mind. You didn’t want him to look or do anything else right now.
You didn’t want to beg, but you didn’t want to be apart anymore.
So, while he had his head ducked, folding up your jacket, you silently moved toward him. You poked your head toward him, looking down at how neatly everything was placed.
Instead of ignoring you, he stroked the back of your head. “Wanna help? You can do the scarves and get your—”
“Please, Joel.”
The words were so large in your mouth you just had to spit them out. You couldn’t fight it any longer. Your knees were weak, your fingers trembled, your cunt throbbed, all while he did fucking laundry.
He raised an eyebrow, but didn’t stop. He put down your jacket and picked up his own. “Please, what?”
“Stop doing the clothes. Come back and touch me.” You looped your arms around his waist, tucking your chin over his shoulder that constantly moved, “I’ll beg now.”
“Won’t mean nothin’.”
“It will.” You brought your hand to his face, forcefully making him look at you.
“It’s just you bein’ honest when your mouth ain’t.”
“I can be honest. I’ll give you everything.”
Joel frowned at that. “You already have. What more could you give me?”
“My body, I’ll let you do anythin’ you want to me.”
“Sweetheart,” He sighed, as if dealing with lecturing you, “The thin’s I wanna do to you… I’m not sure you can handle it. ‘Specially after you said ‘be rough’.”
“I can.”
“Mhmm.”
“I can.” You stressed the words. You shook your head and pressed your chest against his side, leaving kisses on his cheek to bring him back to you. “I’ll spread my legs wider than you’ve ever seen and thank you for it. I’ll let you take me on every piece of furniture until we’ve christened this whole damn penthouse. I’ll even let you—fuck it—I’ll let you come inside me—”
That was all you had to say for the jacket to be dropped and for you to be back in his arms. He kissed you so hard, put all his weight onto you that your back bowed to keep you both upright.
His tongue and yours danced with each other, and your ass hit the arm of the couch, giving you something to lean on as Joel tried to take over you. You felt giddy and satisfied, all that warmth collecting in your heart and lower.
He had a grip on the back of your head, and he was the one who pulled you away. Looking deep into your eyes, he slotted his nose against yours. “Jesus Christ, I’m weak for you. Can’t even punish you right.”
“Punish?” You said with a smirk.
“Can’t let you get away with it. You’ll be good this time?” He asked softly, going back to petting your head.
Excitement coursed throughout your entire body. “I can be good.”
“I know you can be.”
Your heart clenched at the praise, and you fought his grip slightly to kiss him again. But he held you firm. His eyes moved, thinking once more. He darted from you, upstairs, then to the clothes. Over and over again until something good popped up, because he gave you a smile that was as cruel as it was sweet.
“Go upstairs, sweetheart.”
You blinked. “What?”
“You heard me.” He nodded, now sure of whatever he had planned. “You go upstairs, and sit on that bed. And you’re gonna wait ‘til I’m done with all these clothes—probably need to be put in the washing machine—and makin’ us somethin’ like tea, then I’ll—”
“Wait, wait, wait,” You stopped him midsentence with a frown on your face. Joel was patient and let you talk. “I thought you were coming with me.”
“I am. I just don’t want us wakin’ up to a mess; we’ll be too tired anyway. And I’m sure some time on your own will brin’ ‘round some… reflection.”
“Reflection?”
“Reflection. You waited almost two months, what’s ‘nother ten minutes?”
Oh, you knew exactly what he wanted. He wanted to test your own patience and see how much you could listen to him. You weren’t used to Joel being so… forward with his orders. He usually added a ‘please’ or a whine of his own. But not this time.
It was different, having him in full control. Yet it satisfied an itch inside you, and it also made you want to fight back.
You could fight back.
You could fight back right now and raise his blood pressure. You did miss doing that.
“Fuc—fine!” You kept your tone short. You exhaled with disapproval and pulled your hands back. “Fine. I’ll do it.”
He laughed the entire time you walked away, heading up your spiral stairs half-naked and not a lick of shame. Joel couldn’t keep his eyes off you, even though he was going back to fold the clothes. You stared back too. Even though you were listening, you weren’t completely bending to his words.
You walked along the banister, fingers trailing against the wood as you made it closer and closer to the main bedroom. You only broke eye contact when you entered said room. Leaving the door slightly cracked open, you fell into your bed, smothering your face into the sheets.
The sticky feeling between your thighs made itself more known now that you were alone. If you wanted to, you could just forget everything he said and touch yourself until you came. Then, you’d wash your body in hot water and go straight to sleep. Screw Joel and this game he was playing.
He finally had you. You were willing to do anything he wanted, yet he decided the long game was more fun. For who? He could have fucked you by now, given each other two orgasms, and tried a million different positions. Apparently, that wasn’t what he wanted.
You rolled onto your side, looking at the door. The impatience was killing you slowly, and the urge to make this waiting go by quicker took over. You stared up at the ceiling, the fan not even on.
The chill of the room did nothing to help the way the fabric of your panties rubbed against you. It made the urge to reach down and rub your aching clit worse, and all you could think about.
So, to combat it, you slid your panties down your leg and placed them beside you. As soon as that went, you decided unhooking your bra would be the next reasonable step. It went easily, silent as it fell onto the sheets. You stretched, arching your back and stretching out all the cold in your joints.
From downstairs, you could hear Joel moving around your home. You were sure that he wasn’t just doing the laundry, because of the distinct sounds of kitchenware clinking together and the whir of your kettle heating something.
What a bastard.
You huffed, kicked your legs, and closed your eyes. You tried to reason with yourself that you would get him all to yourself. That all this waiting and punishment would lead to him back in your arms and have your legs over his shoulders. This sexual frustration would die, and you would feel content not just physically, but emotionally.
You missed Joel in all the ways one could miss another person. You had full conversations with him about your relationship; you had been drunk and trusted him completely. He even slept in your bed; what more could you want?
You knew, though.
You knew what you wanted from him.
Creak!
You snapped your head to the door, and you propped yourself up on your hands. A shadowy figure—hallowed by the light—came through the crack, opening it wider before he shut the door behind him.
Joel had a tray in his hands. You hadn’t even realized you had a tray like that; it must have come with the penthouse. On it lay two glasses, one of water and one of something hot and steaming. A small plate of your favorite foods was set in the middle.
He placed it onto your dresser, organizing everything to perfection. He had changed out of his clothes, now in a grey t-shirt and sweatpants. “I got you somethin’ to eat afterwards. Water, some tea, and even—” Thump!
It was a graceful arch, not really a throw. Your panties hit and slid down his back. You knew he felt it because his voice went quiet. You couldn’t see his face, but from how his shoulder shook in silent laughter after he saw them on the floor, he must have found it all amusing.
He turned to you, leaning back just like you were. “I see the self-reflection didn’t work.”
“You said you were just doing laundry.”
“Got lost in the motion, I’m sorry,” He didn’t hide how he looked over your entire body. Over your bare tits, your hips, your legs. From how he clenched the wood of your dresser, this wasn’t easy for him either. “I didn’t want you to be workin’ on an empty stomach, so I whipped a couple of thin’s up.”
“My favorites.”
“And some tea. Can’t be drinkin’ coffee this late.”
You hummed, agreeing with him. Even with how you knew how all this would go, you could see him caring. It made you feel a bit bad for acting out.
Only a bit though. You also knew how much he liked this side of you.
You rose onto your knees and crawled toward him on the bed until you were perched there right on the edge, legs tucked to the side. “Thank you, then.”
“‘Course, sweet—” Thump!
This time, it was your bra that landed straight over his shoulder, hanging there like he was a clothing line. The pink looked ridiculous against him, but even more so when he plucked it and ran his fingers over the stitching.
“Why’re you throwin’ your clothes at me?”
“Impatient. Told you.” You lay onto your side, fully exposing your ribs. “I’d throw more, but if you can’t tell I’m… out of ammo, per se.”
His eyes trailed over your curves, how the rose and fell with how you were spread out on the bed. His hand and the bra dropped to his side. “I see. You’re bored.”
“Very much so.”
“Then I’ll give you somethin’ to do.” He said as simple as breathing. With a mere shake of his head, he strided over to your bathroom. You frowned, but stayed quiet.
He disappeared for six seconds exactly, the sound of one of your drawers opening and closing the only indicator of what he was doing. When he came back, your bra was missing, and his hands were behind his back. Joel walked two more steps until he was standing right before you.
There was a quirk in his eyebrow, questioning your position in the bed. You rolled your eyes and moved to sit back on your ass.
Then, there was a thump as he tossed whatever was behind his back onto the bed. It was a blur, barely able to catch it.
But when you spotted it, you nearly choked.
It was your vibrator. Your pink, semi-circular vibrator that you stuffed in your bathroom drawer because you were far too embarrassed to fail again while using it. When did he…
“I found it while I was helpin’ you when we came back from dinner.” It was like he could read your thoughts. “I didn’t look ‘round your stuff on purpose, I swear.”
“Then… then why is it here?”
Joel leaned over you, casting you in deeper shadows. His thick, warm hand ran over your thigh, then lifted and pushed on the back of your knee, spreading you wide. He didn’t stop, the growing angle forcing you to lie down on your back, hair haloing around your head.
He maneuvered you like a doll, taking his other hand to grab the vibrator and place it on the top of your mound. With some balancing, he managed to grab your hand and hold the vibrator in place.
The position was so vulnerable, you couldn’t help but flush. Spread wide before him, with his hands on you and your cunt fluttering on display.
He tilted his head like a curious cat.
“‘Cause you’re gonna show me how you’ve been takin’ care of yourself.”
You nearly choked, but Joel didn’t give you a chance to. He flicked on the first level of your vibrator, and a deep, lazy hum took over. His hand pressed on yours, keeping the vibrator locked right over your clit. It wasn’t enough to bring any true pleasure, but it made you squirm in his grip.
Joel didn’t let you go. “C’mon, be a good girl and listen to me.”
You whimper, “I-I’m being good—”
“Then touch yourself.”
You obeyed, because what else was there to do? Your hand snaked down your breasts, down your navel, past the vibrator until you met your hot cunt. Your middle finger teased yourself, sliding through your wet folds, gathering that sweetness over your digits. Joel marveled the whole time, mouth slightly agape.
It was only when you pushed your finger through that you both let out a noise.
Yours was a higher tone, with your back arching and the vibrator pressed harder. It forced your mouth into an ‘o’ and made it hard to keep your eyes open.
His was deeper, bringing him lower toward you to watch all the little microexpressions on your face. His thumb ran smoothing ups and downs over your knee.
“Please, touch me,” You begged, raising your head weakly up to get him to kiss you. Your middle finger pumped in and out, matching the weak vibrations.
“I can’t, sweetheart. But you can look me in the eyes the whole time. That’s it… keep those pretty eyes on me while you play with that needy pussy.”
Your cheeks burned as you forced yourself to hold his gaze. Joel’s dark eyes were locked on yours, drinking in every twitch and gasp. Slowly, he clicked the vibrator up to the second setting. The hum grew stronger, buzzing more insistently against your clit.
“Add another finger, baby,” he murmured, voice low and smooth. “Two fingers. You can take it.”
You obeyed with a shaky whimper, sliding a second finger alongside the first. The fuller stretch drew a louder moan from your throat as your back arched. Joel’s hand stayed heavy on yours, keeping the vibrator pressed firmly while you started pumping faster.
“Good girl,” he praised, the corner of his mouth twitching. “That’s it. Fuck yourself just like that. Look how wet you’re getting… makin’ such a mess already. There’s gonna be a puddle. ”
He flicked the vibrator up another level. The stronger, pulsing buzz made your thighs jerk and your breath hitch. You fucked yourself harder, curling your fingers, trying to match the intensity.
But after a few minutes, you noticed something.
No matter how deep you thrust your fingers or how desperately you ground against the vibrator, the sharp edge of pleasure kept dancing just out of reach. You tried to go faster, pressing harder, curling tighter, but it wasn’t enough. Your rhythm grew sloppy and frustrated. The coil in your belly wound tighter without snapping, leaving you whimpering in pitiful little gasps.
You tried for a third finger in, stretching yourself almost painfully, but it still wasn’t right. Your hips bucked uselessly, tears of frustration pricking at the corners of your eyes as you chased and chased but couldn’t get there.
Joel noticed immediately. His thumb slowed its gentle stroking on your knee. He stayed quiet for a long moment, just watching you struggle—watching the way your face twisted with need and irritation, the way your fingers faltered inside you.
His voice finally broke the silence, low and soft and almost tender. “Are ya tryin’?”
You snarled at him, “O-obviously I am! I’m just—oh fuck!”
You removed your fingers with a wet pop, throwing your forearm over your eyes. Your chest heaved, and sweat rolled over your skin. Joel didn’t make any moves to try and get you to do something. He let you rest and regather your thoughts. The vibrator turned off with a click, and he let your leg that was once held up fall onto the bed, freeing you of hold.
Lying there, you felt ashamed. How could you be in your mid-thirties and struggling to come? You did just fine when you imagined him, but now with him in front of you, it wasn’t working.
A single tear of frustration slipped through. Yet, you dared to peek underneath your arm and show Joel look down at you with pity.
“You ain’t doin’ it right”
You pressed your shaky arms to make yourself sit up. “Don’t teach me how to masturbate.”
“I ain’t. I’m just noticin’.”
“Well, if you’re so good, why don’t you—”
“Hey, hey… c’mere, sweetheart, shh, none of that. You’re alright.” Joel cut you off gently, his voice dropping into that soothing register. He leaned in closer, one big hand cupping the back of your neck while the other brushed the tear from your cheek with his thumb. “You’re overwhelmed, that’s all. Been too long since you had me, and it’s okay to need a little help. ”
Joel took your wrist gently but firmly, pulling your hand away from your face. He brought your slick fingers to his mouth and sucked them clean, eyes never leaving yours. Then he guided your hand back down between your legs, covering it with his own much larger one.
“Together. Lemme show you.”
He eased two of your fingers back inside your soaked cunt, then slid one of his own thick fingers in alongside them. The stretch was nothing as you had felt before.
“Oh—oh!” You cried out, feeling the walls of your pussy expand to keep both you and him inside.
Joel guided you, pushing further until you and him were buried to the knuckle. “Start like this, now curl ‘em up… yeah, like that. Feel ‘round a lil’.”
You tried, searching with your fingertips, but it wasn’t quite right. He gave you an understanding smile.
“Relax for me.” Joel gently adjusted the angle of your wrist. “A little higher… press up firmer. This spot’ll feel different, kinda swollen. You’ll know when you hit it.”
You shifted again, pressing and rubbing experimentally. A few strokes felt good, but nothing special. Joel clicked his tongue softly and slid another one of his thick fingers in. He curled his finger deliberately, forcing you to bend and curl with him.
You gasped.
A bolt of electricity flooded your spine, dancing on each of your vertebrae until it reached your brain. Your eyes couldn’t blink because they went so wide. He pulled his finger back slightly so you could try again on your own. You fumbled for a moment, missing it, then pressed again—trial and error—adjusting the angle and pressure.
Suddenly your fingertips brushed over an unprecedented spongey softness and—
“Holy shit—” You bit your lip, eyes fluttering.
“There she is, that’s my girl. Nice firm strokes.”
Now that you’d found it, he slid two of his fingers back in with yours. Together, you started fucking your cunt in a steady rhythm. Four fingers total, yours and his working in sync. Every thrust pressed firmly against that magical spot, making your toes curl and your breath come in desperate gasps.
Joel kept his forehead close to yours, watching every reaction. With his free hand, he flicked the vibrator back on, the low buzz filling the air again. He used his thumb to carefully pull back the hood of your clit, fully exposing the sensitive bundle of nerves, and pressed the side directly against it.
The combination hit—his fingers and yours pumping steadily while the vibrator buzzed relentlessly on your bare clit—and you cried out, hips jerking helplessly, “Joel—oh my god—”
“Easy does it,” He cooed, “We ain’t stoppin’ ‘til you come all over our fingers.”
Your moans grew louder, more broken, as slick sounds filled the bedroom. Joel’s voice stayed in your ear, murmuring praise between kisses to your temple.
The pleasure intensified, stacking relentlessly. Your thighs started trembling uncontrollably, your free hand fisting the front of Joel’s shirt as you rocked desperately between your joined fingers and the merciless vibrator.
Joel never let up—moving your and his fingers together on every thrust, grinding the toy in tight little circles against your clit. Sweat beaded on your skin, your breathing turned ragged, and the pressure inside you felt impossibly full, heavier than any orgasm you’d ever felt before.
A strange, deep, almost frightening pressure built low in your belly, different from your usual climax, warmer and more urgent. Your eyes widened in panic as your body started thrashing. “Joel—wait—something’s—fuck, I think I’m gonna—”
He shifted his weight to pin you more fiercely beneath him. “Don’t fight it. Let it happen.”
“Too much! It’s—it’s too much.”
If anything, that made him go harder. “That’s what I want.
“N-no! You don’t get it—I’ve never… never felt like this—!”
“Feel it. Feel this shit, sweetheart.”
You obeyed, and succumbed to the wanton pleasure.
Your mouth fell open in a silent scream, eyes rolled back, body seizing with the overwhelming release. Your whole body froze, thighs clamping around your joined hands as a hot, clear fluid gushed out, soaking Joel’s grey shirt and sweatpants in dark, spreading patches.
It kept coming—splashing onto the sheets and dripping onto the floor as you pulsed again and again. Like a never-ending fountain that told the tales of all the times you half-came or didn’t at all.
All brought into one, singular orgasm.
Even as you locked up and shook, Joel didn’t stop. He kept fucking you through it, dragging out every last pulse while the vibrator stayed pressed tight. It only brought out more of the liquid, staining your shivering thighs.
Slowly, you were brought down from your high, shaking and crying out and clinging onto Joel. He held onto you just as tight, slowing down so that you could be brought down to earth.
You curled your face into his neck, breathing him in so that the familiar scent would calm you. And it did. Your heart slowly slowed, and your breathing became less labored.
Joel’s chin was tucked right above your head, murmuring things you couldn’t quite make out, not with the ringing in your ear. With that same pop, Joel pulled his fingers out of your cunt, and yours followed right after. Both your hands were completely drenched, completely soaked.
He pressed kisses into your hair as your vibrator clicked off, and you heard it hit the floor with a thud as it also rolled away. It caught your attention and forced your eyes down. Your cunt was completely flushed and swollen, quivering and twitching as cool air grazed every sensitive part.
And when you looked up…
You gasped, face becoming inflamed with embarrassment, “Joel! Your—your shirt!”
Joel blinked beerily and glanced down. He chuckled—actually dared to laugh—when he saw huge dark grey stains on his clothes like it was nothing, “Oh, this thin’? I got ‘bout ten more at home. I could just throw this in the laundry too if I gotta.”
“Besides the point!” You brushed your hands over the hem line, trying to wipe it away. It didn’t work, of course. “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry! I didn’t know—at all—that I could do that. I mean, no one’s ever made me come that hard, much less squirt—”
“Really? I’m your first, then?”
“This is not the time to get all prideful.” Whining, you pushed yourself further, coming to sit with a hiss at how it ached between your thighs. When your toes touched the ground, you felt the wetness there too. “Oh god, it’s everywhere.”
“I’ll clean it up, don’t worry.” He said while pulling back.
“No, I will.” You relented, “It’s my mess, and I didn’t mean to… oh.”
Before you, Joel had taken off his shirt, peeling it off him and revealing his thick torso. The shirt went somewhere behind him, and you suddenly had no care for it.
His chest was the same, still the same size and hair that you loved to bury your face in. The most noticeable change was his belly, and how it seemed to have grown a bit bigger. The muscles there were pure strength from many years in Texas heat, and they only seemed stronger now. Thicker, coarser hair than usual traveled down his navel and disappeared into his sweatpants.
You licked your lips. “Your sweatpants are also wet.”
He hummed as he crawled over you, and you moved backwards toward the center of the bed. “Are they?”
“Mhm. I think you should take them off too. Don’t want it to stick to your skin, you know?”
“Help me out?”
You paused, letting Joel fully envelope you as he hovered over your body. Then, you reached and curled your fingers at his waistband, tugging and pulling. He finished the job, pulling his pants and boxers down his thighs and kicking them off the bed.
He was as naked as you, and it was blatantly obvious how turned on he was, his cock at full hardness with dribbles of pre-cum dripping down his shaft. Joel was breathing harder when he noticed you staring.
Your legs naturally found their place hitched on his hips, but Joel didn’t make a move to be inside you. Instead, he fell on top of you, pulling you into a tight hug.
Skin on skin, breath on breath, you and Joel held each other in silence. It was just as intimate as the sex before, if not more. The ability to sit in your most physically vulnerable and not do anything sexual for a moment warmed you fully.
Joel hummed into your hair, and if he could, he would be purring like a cat. His arms wound around your back, pulling you flush against his chest. You used your nails to trace along his bare back, starting at the base and trailing up until you met the nape. He shivered, and you smiled.
When he finally did pull back—much to your dismay, he was very warm—his eyes were completely dazed over, almost in a trance-like state. He kissed you, lips puckered against yours as he made wet smacks. You opened your mouth, letting your tongue be swallowed by his.
“I need you…” You found a small opening to whisper, “Please.”
“You don’t got to beg anymore.” Joel murmured. “I ain’t gonna keep nothin’ from you now.”
Pulling off you with a spit string connecting both your bottom lips, he made his move. Quicker than you could track, he was flipping you onto your belly and grabbing a pillow, wedging it underneath your hips. He made sure you were comfortable, running a hand over your sides.
He even asked if this was alright, and when you arched your back and said yes, that was when he sighed in relief.
Joel’s thighs braced around your own, and you felt his hot cock against your ass. He pressed a broad palm between your shoulder blades, gently guiding you back down against the sheets and keeping your hips up. His thumb ran over the edge of your moth’s wings. You felt the thick head of his cock nudge against your soaked entrance, sliding up and down your folds before he finally began to push in.
He was so big, and it had been too long.
The stretch was overwhelming. Inch by inch he sank into you—slow and careful—groaning deeply as your tight walls fluttered and clenched around every ridge of him. You buried your face into the crook of your arm, breath hitching at the full, burning pressure of him splitting you open.
When you finally bottomed out, hips flush against your ass, both of you went completely still.
Joel dropped his heavy body over yours, chest against your back. His arms bracketed your head, and his forehead was nuzzled into your neck, hot breath fanning across your skin as he fought to remain motionless inside you.,
You could feel how his cock throbbed deep inside your belly, the way your pussy pulsed and squeezed around you in rhythmic waves. His hands found yours, fingers threading together tightly as he held you close, keeping you both in that state of fullness.
After those long, breathless moments, Joel finally started to move. Slow, deep, heavy rolls of his hips that dragged his cock almost all the way out before sliding back to the hilt. Each thrust pushed you further into the pillow, and pulled mewls and whimpers from you. His lips parted and mouthed at your pulse point as broken vibrations shook you from his chest.
You turned your head further toward him, nose brushing along his stubbled jaw and chin in a desperate nuzzle. Joel met you halfway, capturing your mouth in a messy, sideways kiss over your shoulder. The wet sounds of your kiss mixed with the rhythmic slap of his thrusts.
“Fuck baby—you feel so good…” Joel groaned against your lips, “So tight ‘round me, takin’ me so well like you were made for it.”
You moaned louder, clenching, “Only for you… I-I’m only for you.”
“‘Course you are. ‘Course you’re mine, ‘cause I’m yours. We belong to each other.” He rewarded you with a particularly deep grind.
You became pathetically pliant, pushing back to meet his thrusts. Your tongues tangled again in another sloppy kiss, saliva dripping down your chin as you panted into each other’s mouth.
Gradually, his control started to fray. His hips snapped harder, the pace picking up until he was properly pounding into you. The wet, filthy sound of his cock driving into your soaked pussy filled the room, accompanied by each of your moans.
“Joel, Joel, Joel—” You chanted his name like a prayer, and it forced you to be honest. “M-missed this so much. Missed you so—missed you so much.”
“I know, sweetheart—fuck! I’m not gonna fuckin’ last.” He said against your temple. “Not… not gonna last in this perfect, perfect cunt…”
“Don’t come yet, please.” Reaching behind you, your fingers found his hair. “I need more of you.”
“Then I won’t. Not ‘til you tell me to.”
It was dizzying, how fast control could be traded between you both. One moment, he had you on your back needing to be good for him, while the next consisted of him laying himself at your mercy.
He tried to slide his hand underneath your body and above the pillow to try and find your clit, but the angle was too tight. He growled with frustration, and before you could help, he was already pulling out and flipping you over onto your back. The pillow went back near the headboard as he threw it.
Joel gripped your hips, notched your pelvises together, and slammed back inside you with a single thrust.
The new position was devastating. Your pussy was swallowing him even deeper, and the head of his cock dragged along that spot that you found with him earlier. His hands locked around your hips, holding you steady as he used your body in long, powerful thrusts.
You cried out, nails shooting out to rake down his back and biting into your skin. When you found his ass and dug your claws there, he groaned loudly, hips stuttering for a moment.
The look in your eyes was pure adoration. You could see him in every light and shade that was him. Every kindness, every jab. Every happiness, every sadness. Every help, every hurt. Every bravery, every fear.
You accepted it all, because they all swirled together and made the man you loved.
You hoped he saw all that too.
The feelings took you over, and you decided you wanted more of him.
You opened your mouth and spoke:
“I love you.”
He let out a choked noise. Again, his hips staggered, almost losing the rhythm completely. “You—you don’t gotta say it now just ‘cause I’m inside you, sweetheart.”
You pushed back against him, refusing to fall for his deflections. “Then stop and listen.”
He didn’t hesitate when the word ‘stop’ left your mouth and did exactly what you asked. Immediately, Joel halted his hips. His chest heaved with exertion, and the muscles in his arms were strung tight as he tried to keep his whole body up to look down at you.
Your shiver hand slipped over his back to his face, cupping the hair on his jaw.
“I love you. I mean it. I love you and everything you’ve done for me, and I’ve missed you. I’ve missed us. I don’t think I’ve ever had someone who’s understood me as you do.” You tilted your head, letting the feelings take over. Tears—not of sadness or fear, but rather joy—gathered in the corner of your eyes. “And I know we’ve had our ups and our downs for almost two decades, but I wouldn’t want to do it with anyone else.
“You make me feel confident with happiness smushed in it. I haven’t been both those things in a long time. And when you came here for me, I realized that it’s a fight. We gotta fight for each other. So I want to fight for you too. There’s nothing I would rather be doing than spending time with the love of my life. You, Joel Miller, are my heart, soul, and mind, since the day we were born. Together, as one.”
Your heart hammered. You hadn’t expected to be this honest, but the words had started pouring out, and unable to stop. After a certain point, you didn’t want to.
You wanted him to know just how much he meant to you, and wouldn’t stop at nothing until he knew.
Yet, before you could continue, something wet dripped onto your face. You blinked and touched your cheek. It wasn’t your sweat rolling over your skin, or any leaky pipe from your ceiling or melting snow from the outside.
No.
A steady drip, drip, drip fell onto your face, with seemingly no end to it. You gasped when you focused.
It was Joel’s tears, now falling faster than you could process. His face was scrunched up into so many emotions, you couldn’t figure out which one he was feeling the most. The hard planes of his face were unbearably soft. Instinct took over, and you reached for him, trying to comfort and take back the intensity of your words.
“Don’t cry, baby,” You whispered as you kissed the line of his jaw. “I didn’t mean to make you cry. I just wanted to be honest with you.”
Joel sniffled, “They ain’t… they ain’t sad tears, I promise.”
“Then why—”
“‘Cause I love you so much too, and cryin’ is the only way I can express it right now. I denied myself love for so many years, too many years. I gave up everythin’ that made me happy so that others could live their lives to the fullest. I thought that would fill the hole that was my fuckin’ life. But it didn’t. It silently made it so much wider, and I didn’t even realize it.
“But I have you. I’ve had you for years. I pushed you away, I reeled you back in, then pushed you back out ‘cause I was afraid of that hole. I don’t feel that fear anymore.” Joel cracked a smile and a wet laugh. “When I look at you, I see the joy that was stolen from me, and I denied myself. I fight for you ‘cause I want to feel everythin’. And I wanna feel it with you.”
Your own tears came in steady streams, unyielding. They trailed over your features, down your temple and disappearing into your hairline. Joel whipped them away with his thumb.
“I love you, sweetheart.”
“I love you too, Miller.”
You sealed it with a heavy kiss, not lustful or sexual, but in a way that stitched two souls for the rest of time. As if you were telling this universe that in this life and the next, and the one after that, that there was only one person for you.
That it was this man right before you.
And you knew it was the same for him as well.
“Move.” You said against his lips.
He obeyed, hips resuming their thrusts. But it was as slow as a river, and when he pressed his forehead against yours, it felt just right. You didn’t need the frantic, hard thrusting, even if you enjoyed it.
All you needed was Joel.
Your legs wrapped loosely around his waist, heels resting on the back of his thighs. Foreheads pressed together, noses brushing, shared breaths warming each other’s lips. Every slow thrust felt like a promise: deep, full, and unhurried.
His hands cradled your face, thumbs stroking your cheeks as he moved inside you. You slid your fingers into his hair, holding him close, your bodies rocking together in a gentle rhythm. Soft gasps and quiet moans filled the small space between you.
There was no rush. Just the steady slide of him inside your warmth, the press of skin on skin, and the overwhelming feeling of being completely connected.
The pleasure built slowly, like a tide rising higher and higher. Your breath hitched, thighs tightening around him as the feeling crested.
“I need to come,” you whispered against his mouth.
Joel’s voice was full of warmth. “Come for me, sweetheart.”
It washed over you in gentle, beautiful waves. Your back arched, a soft, trembling moan slipping from your lips as your walls fluttered and pulsed around him. The orgasm was deep and sweet, happiness blooming in your chest alongside the pleasure.
Your eyes stayed locked with his the entire time, vulnerable and full of love. Joel watched you through it all, breathing you in, feeling every ripple of your release around his cock.
He kept moving through your climax, slow and steady, drawing it out until you were soft and glowing beneath him. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, holding him close as the aftershocks trembled through your body. His breathing grew ragged against your neck.
Soft, needy sounds started slipping from his throat with every thrust—quiet, broken whimpers he tried to muffle against your skin. His eyes were half-lidded and glassy as he fought to keep control, just like he’d promised. His hands gripped your waist tighter, fingers digging in as his hips started to lose their steady rhythm, becoming more desperate and shallow.
You could feel how close he was—how hard he was struggling to hold back for you.
“Come,” You commanded softly, lips brushing his. “Come for me, Joel.”
A wrecked sound tore from his chest. His hips jerked forward one last time, burying himself as deep as he could go.
Then he came.
Thick, heavy pulses of his release flooded into you, warm and endless. He kept coming, spilling so much that you could feel it leaking out around his cock, coating your thighs and the sheets beneath you. His whole body shuddered above yours, trembling as he gave you every last drop, filling you until you were overflowing with him.
Both your highs came down together, and you held onto each other to float back into reality.
Joel’s weight slowly settled more fully on top of you, but not enough to crush you. He stayed buried deep inside, softening gradually as your bodies stayed connected. You kept your arms wrapped around his broad shoulders, one hand gently stroking through his damp curls while the other rubbed slow circles along his back.
He nuzzled into the crook of your neck, pressing soft, lazy kisses there before finding your lips again. The kiss was slow because there was no urgency left, just the lingering presses of tongues and shared breaths. You melted into it, humming softly as his mouth moved against yours.
Every so often, one of you would pull back just enough to breathe, only for your lips to find each other again. Joel’s large hands roamed slowly over your sides and hips, while you traced your fingertips along the back of his neck and shoulders. Soft sighs and murmurs of contentment passed between you as the trembling in your bodies finally eased.
You pulled back, tugging his chasing lips, to speak.
“Stay…” Weakly, you pushed him to lie beside you, keeping his cock tucked right inside you. You hitched a leg up over his stomach to keep close.
Joel—ever the caretaker—didn’t stay still. He somehow found the strength to look back over to the dresser, to the food and drinks he had brought you. “Eat somethin’, at least.”
“Tomorrow…”
“Sweetheart.”
You snorted, then pressed your hand over his mouth to smother his words. “Shush, shush… I’m too—” You yawned, laying your head down on his chest, “—too tired to be eating. If you stay still, I’ll let you cook and stuff me full of food tomorrow.”
"Y'mean... thar's only fahv more hours... 'til mornin'..."
“Really, what time—”
“Two-forty-five.” Joel said after he got your hand off his mouth, going to pet the back of your head.
You nodded like you were able to keep up with the conversation, “Then… then in the morning… you can—you can feed me.”
“Alright.” That was all he needed to hear, apparently, because he moved you both until he was lifting the blanket and tucking you both underneath the sheets. The warmth made you feel even more tacky, but you didn’t care. “Then sleep. We’ll talk in the mornin’ ‘bout… well, everythin’.”
“I’ll sleep.”
“Mm, good girl.” Soft kisses were pressed along your face. Your cheeks, lips, nose, even your closed eyes. “I love you.”
“I love you more.”
“I love you even more.”
“Shut up, you cheeseball.”
“Never. You’re stuck with me.”
“You make it sound like it’s a bad thing.” You opened one eye and looked up at him. “But there’s nothing I would want more.”
I feel like I'm playing with dolls and making them kiss every time I write smut LMAO. But, about damn time these two have their way with each other!!
the comments mentioning t&c on this tiktok I know that’s right 💅💅💅
I’m beyond honored that people continue. to recommend my fics 🙇🏽♀️
Thank you everyone who’s ever spread the word about t&c!! It means the world to me and more that you guys have read for so long. This chapter is for you guys!
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You and Joel Miller were in a six-year relationship that ended in pure and utter hatred for each other. While your writing career soared, his insecurity spiraled, negatively fueled by drinking and resentment for your success. It all culminated in a brutal car wreck that left you lifeless on the asphalt and him fleeing the scene. You woke from a month-long coma to a new, cruel reality: a brain injury that stole your dexterity and murdered your ability to ever hold a pen again. Joel never looked back.
Years later, you’ve traded your dreams for a quiet teaching gig in Dallas, while trying to manage tremors. Then, a name appears on your first-grade roster: Sarah Miller. You tell yourself it’s a coincidence until the classroom door swings open, and Joel walks in to drop off the daughter you never knew he had. The man who broke your life is back, and this time, he's holding the hand of your student.
tags & plot warnings: no outbreak AU, younger Joel (30), Sarah is 6, lovers to exes to ??, heavy angst, PTSD, chronic disability, smut!, both MC and Joel do questionable things, car accident, severe depression, learning disabilities, Sarah's mom plays a role, past abuse, alcohol and drug use
author notes: I try and make all of my work as accurate as possible by doing heavy amounts of research on the topics at hand before writing (see my fantastic four fic as an example). For this fic, I used my brief experience as a special education TA to bring knowledge to different state testing names, dyslexia policies, etc, but I will be taking creative liberties on what I deem necessary if it does not effect the integrity of the story.
If you feel as if I could add something for more accuracy, I welcome feedback with open arms.
i do not have an updating schedule as I work full time and will be in law school in the next few months. I try and update once a week. I do not consent for my work to be fed into ai.
chapter visuals done by @dilf-docs and myself 💜
beta read by: @suupermoonn and @dilf-docs 💜
dividers by @saradika-graphics 💜
shout out: @followyourfleart beautiful and magnificent story terms & conditions inspired me to write my own Joel x reader fic! Go read it right now or else. GOAT. 💜
