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loliwrites · 2 days

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I. Tenacity | Edelweiss

pairing: joel miller x f!reader rating: explicit, 18+, minors dni warnings/tags: jackson era!joel, sharpshooter!reader, age difference [joel is mid 50s, reader is early 30s], joel lives forever fight me, canon compliant violence, no infected here just terrible humans, mention of death, blood, and murder, mentions of hunger, diva cup appearance, talk of irregular menstrual cycles [trauma-induced menopause][epigenetics], DUBCON/NONCON [tagging ‘cause reader allows it but true enthusiastic consent is absent], brief SMUT, unprotected p in v sex, female reader, no physical description other than a height difference, slow burn-ish, protective!joel, no use of y/n. word count: 5.6k series masterlist a/n: my first go at writing something tlou-related. be gentle pls.

⌾ ⌾ ⌾ ⌾ ⌾

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

The steady rhythm. You could count the number of times your hip would be shoved into the wooden table with a high degree of certainty of when it would be over. Michael never lasted too long. Somewhere between thirty-four and thirty-seven thrusts. He was never particularly rough, and though he was never chasing to make you feel good, he was at least better than George and James – both of whom would probably be lining up after Michael was done. George seemed to last forever. Some old fart who’d gained his stamina before the world came to a screeching halt. He usually landed somewhere between sixty-two and sixty-six thrusts. The bruises he left behind always lasted the longest because of the sheer amount of times he slammed your body into whatever you were up against. A table, a railing, an old pool table with torn, dirty felt. And the worst of all was James. He may not last the longest, but he had the uncanny ability of making you feel like some depraved wild animal he was trying to break. He never took his time to make sure it wouldn’t be absolutely painful like Michael did. Nor did he have a pencil dick to make it somewhat manageable like George. He took it how he wanted it – fast, unceremonious, and always left you in a mess you’d have to clean up.

Part of you wondered if this was worth it. If the wolf was only as strong as the pack, then having a pack was supremely necessary. And though, these guys… and the group they led… weren’t the people you would’ve gone with by choice. A pack was a pack. Alone, you were an easy target for almost anything and anyone. Being together afforded you safety in numbers. Relative safety in numbers. Safe enough to have stayed alive with them for the past six years. Years that you likely wouldn’t have gotten if you’d fought them tooth and nail and went off on your own. Solitude could only get you so far. No matter how proficient you were with your rifle.

The one that lay in front of you on the table. Clean, well-oiled, with a scope affixed to the top. As Michael started to moan recklessly behind you, you thought about the meals you’d forfeited in trade for the supplies needed to keep the weapon in the best of shape. Times were tough – had been tough for a couple decades now – and a gun was a gun. It didn’t need to be clean, it just had to work. But this was no ordinary gun.

Michael came inside you with a strangled grunt and pulled out a second later. That was a relatively new twist in the routine. For years the men were careful to never finish inside you… or any of the other women in the group. Food and resources were scarce enough as it was, let alone adding little mouths to feed and take care of. But a few months back, you’d confided in some of the women that your period hadn’t been coming when you expected it to. And when time had passed and neither a baby nor your period came, you came to the conclusion you were suffering from the same fate as some of the other women. A hard life compounded. Trauma induced menopause. You weren’t sure which of the women had ratted you out. But soon enough the men had become aware of your new biological situation, and they stopped the frantic pulling out as they came. Perhaps that was for the best. Who’d want to bring a child into a world like this?

“Was that alright?” Michael asked, buckling his belt back up. His back was turned toward you as he reached for his own rifle, which he’d propped up against the wall.

You glanced over at him and pulled your pants back up your legs. Over the lofted railing, you could hear George and James mumbling to each other. “Fine,”

“Did you…?”

He finally met your eyes. Anxiety-ridden. None of the other men ever asked, but you didn’t have it in you to lie to him. At some point maybe it’d sink in that he should stop partaking in the act just to fit in with the boys. “No,”

His gaze averted to the floor sheepishly and he shouldered his rifle. “Guess we should get back downstairs,”

“I’ll be down in a couple minutes,”

Now you were the one to turn your back on him. Though you hoped he’d come to his senses and start to become a better man. You knew he wouldn’t. He was initiated into the system. The one George and James, and all the other men in the settlement formed. The one that meant they brought girls along on patrols so they could get their kicks and save face with the others that they were doing their due diligence in protecting the group. And you joining the group… well you turned out to be the little guardian angel for the women in the pack. Good with a gun, able to pick off infected and humans alike from a mile out. It only seemed natural that the men going out on patrols would take you with them. For that you inadvertently protected the other women from your fate.

Michael cleared his throat and started down the stairs from the loft. You bit the inside of your cheek to show yourself you could still feel something, and – BANG!

Your head flicked around toward the noise. What was left of Michael was splattered against the wall leading up the stairs. You grabbed your gun and held it poised. Looked over the lofted banister and down at the room below. George had backed up into the far corner; his arms raised in non-threatening compliance. Someone must’ve been pointing a weapon at him, but you couldn’t tell from the angle. And James, well… if it didn’t warm your heart a little bit to see him being restrained in a chokehold with a handgun to his temple. The man you could see, holding James, was tall, muscular… he had black, curly, jaw-length hair. A thick mustache. He was in all denim. And it was clean, which was the thing that caught you the most off-guard.

You lifted your gun, disregarding the scope, and looked down the barrel. James may’ve been part of your pack, but you’d thought about putting a bullet in him on a daily basis for the last eight years. And while these guys might kill you afterward, at least you’d have the brief satisfaction of knowing that you’d taken one terrible human off the face of the planet.

So there was no hesitancy when you squeezed the trigger. The round flew by the denim-clad man’s head and went straight into James’. He crumpled to the floor and the man who’d been holding him looked up in your direction, though you’d backed away enough to ensure you weren’t seen.

Your pulse was pounding in your ears. Despite two thirds of your life having been in a post-Cordyceps world, the sound and reverberation of your rifle going off right by your ear didn’t keep it from ringing. An almost concussion-like haziness emphasized by the adrenaline coursing in your veins. From down below, you could just barely hear George pleading for his life. Something about how he had a woman he loved and wanted to go home to. Strange considering he had his dick in you on most days out.

The ringing in your ears started to quiet, just in time for you to hear a footstep behind you. A heavy one. Definitely belonged to a man. But not in time for you to spin around with your rifle before finding the man already pointing his rifle at you.

“Drop it,” he commanded gruffly. A deep, gravelly voice. He was sure of himself. Confident. His tattered jacket bunched up around his shoulders. He wasn’t as clean-looking as his partner currently detaining George. Graying, brown hair, a prominent scar over his nose, a scruffiness… and yet, he still looked too put together to have been living off the land for any amount of time. You should know. God knows what you looked like had you ever taken any time in front of a mirror. If the dirtiness of your hands were any indication, you were a little worse for wear. “I said, drop it,”

Your eyes flicked back up to his face and you slowly bent over and placed your rifle on the floor. No sooner than you’d completed the action, he had another order for you. Kick it here and get on your knees. So you did. Nudged your most prized possession away with your foot when another BANG! rang through the old hunting lodge. Your eyes flinched shut; the nanosecond of thought that this was it. You’re dead. But then… you still felt alive. And you squinted your eyes open to evaluate. Yep, definitely still alive. No bleeding holes coming from your body, and the man still in front of you waiting for you to comply with his last order. Which you did… awkwardly. A grimace stretched over your face when you knelt down and felt your pants sticking to your thighs; Michael’s spend dripping out of you.

The muzzle of the man’s rifle never left you, “got anything else on you?”

“Knife in my front pocket,”

“Slide it over,”

You did. Quickly. Hoping that your quickness and willingness to obey him would mean he’d let you go with your tail tucked between your legs.

“You infected?”

You glared at him, “do I look infected?”

He cocked his gun and held it up in line with your head. You trained your eyes on his index finger around the trigger. Just one twitch. That’s all it’d take.

“Joel,” both you and the man… Joel… looked away from each other, and fixed your eyes on the stairs where the second one – the one you’d disregarded in order to kill James – entered the loft. “Look at her gun,” both men looked at your rifle. “I don’t think she misses very often. If she was gonna kill us, we’d already be dead.”

He went to approach you, and this time Joel spoke up. A cautious step forward, “Tommy.”

But this Tommy… he took another couple steps in your direction and handed off his rifle to Joel when he went to stand in front of you. You kept your eyes on his face, tilting your head back to keep him in your line of vision. Even if he tried something, you weren’t sure what you’d do to stop him, but at least you’d see it coming.

“I don’t think you missed me. I don’t even think you were aiming at me,”

“I wasn’t,”

A victorious smile spread across his face and he twisted around to look back at Joel, “see.” Tommy looked back down at you and set his hands on his hips. “What’s your name?”

You flicked your eyes at Joel quickly before returning them to Tommy to answer his question.

“You’re with the other settlement?”

“I wouldn’t call them a settlement,” your eyes flicked over to Joel when he clicked his tongue on his teeth and rolled his eyes. “Nomads, at best,”

“And at worst?” Joel barked.

Your eyebrows lifted quickly in contemplation before… “a bunch’a assholes,”

Another wide grin broke out over Tommy’s face. “You got a family or a partner in that bunch of assholes?” He waited for a verbal response but you only shook your head. “We’ll take her back with us. She might be able to give us some answers about our friends we’ve been seeing on patrol.”

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They made you walk while they sat easily atop their horses. Some kind of cruel twist of fate that your own gun was turned on you the whole time. Joel made sure of that. Based on the way the sun fell toward the horizon, you figured you’d all been an hour and a half walk south of their settlement. Which as you neared the large wooden gates, seemed to be more like a QZ than some random encampment. And judging by the way the two men bickered, you assumed they were brothers. Only siblings could piss each other off like that and not take it personally. How lucky, you thought, that after all this time, they still had each other.

When you did near the enormous gates, Tommy left you behind with Joel. A precarious position. His face remained stoic the entire time, muzzle of the gun pointed at you… didn’t even answer when you asked if his horse had a name. You thought about goading him into an argument for the fun of it. Maybe he named his horse Princess. Or Spike. But Tommy interrupted again, riding up with a handful of others and even a dog. It growled and snarled in your direction, and you weren’t sure why, but you glanced back up at Joel to see if his expression had changed. Maybe you wouldn’t be so scared if he didn’t look like there was something you should be nervous about.

To your surprise, he was already staring at you. Upon meeting your gaze, he nodded once and jut his chin in the direction of the dog. “S’gonna sniff you. See if you’re infected. If not, like you say, nothin’ll happen.”

“If I am?” You cocked your head back toward the snarling animal.

“It’ll probably just take your leg off or somethin’,”

“Any chance this dog fucks up?”

“Probably not,”

And it didn’t. Thankfully. Hopefully this meant they’d trust explicitly that you indeed weren’t infected. They seemed to trust their trained animal enough to let you inside their settlement. Jackson, they called it. You’d never heard of it. Never heard of any rumblings of a massive commune. And yet…. It was gorgeous. Nice buildings, string lights, stables, a bar, dining hall, and in the distance, what seemed to look like a large, sweeping neighborhood.

Tommy had joined up with a woman: Maria. They kissed and spoke fondly to each other, so you assumed they were partners. Both walked ahead of you, while Joel remained at your rear. You figured with your rifle still pointed at you. Everyone stopped what they were doing when you passed by. All staring to get a glimpse of the newcomer. Would you be joining them permanently? Would they kill you? You asked yourself the same questions.

Your feet had stopped moving but you didn’t notice until you felt the muzzle of your rifle press against your upper back. Joel jabbed the metal against your back again, growing antsier with the fact that your gaze had settled on a teenager in the distance. She was staring at you, too. A fact that seemed to make Joel even more aggravated. He mumbled his annoyance to you and you got moving again, walking up the boarded steps into the dining hall.

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They treated you better than you expected. Hell, better than your group would’ve treated someone they didn’t know. They set a big glass of water in front of you with a heaping plate of vegetables, chicken, and fresh bread. The water was one of the biggest surprises. You couldn’t remember the last time you didn’t have to boil water before drinking it. Maybe when you were still with your parents. That felt like a lifetime ago.

Tommy and Maria shared glances like they weren’t sure what you were going to tell them. Considering no one else joined you, you figured these three (or a combination) held a great deal of power in the settlement. Joel, however, looked pissed that this was even happening at all. That he hadn’t just shot you on sight back at the hunting lodge. It was pretty easy to ignore him. You’d spent the better half of your time on earth ignoring men just like him. But then the questions started coming and you figured all this kindness came at a price. They wanted to know everything. So you didn’t hold back. Maybe if you were open and frank with them, they’d let you stay here. They wouldn’t make you go back to those awful people.

Told them that you’d been with that group for the last eight years. And in those eight years, they hadn’t really expanded their numbers by any considerable amount. That they hovered somewhere between forty-four and sixty-two people -- including the three that had been killed today – and that about two thirds of them were men. You even told them about how you’d become a sort of fun novelty for the men. That they brought you along on their scouts because you were better than anyone with a rifle. Once they got their rocks off by watching you down game a mile off, they got their rocks off again, fucking you up against anything sturdy enough to withstand the weight and pressure.

Joel looked down at his lap at that. Avoided your eyes. You took it to mean that he knew what that was like. Maybe he did the same.

You shrugged and pushed the remnants of food around on your plate. Eight years was a long time to endure that type of treatment. You told them as much.

“You don’t have loyalty to anyone in the other group?” Maria asked, probing.

“She shot one of her own guys today. Doesn’t have loyalty to anyone,”

Everyone’s heads turned to Joel. He’d since leaned back in his chair, almost nonchalantly. The gun that had been pointed at you now lay on the opposite end of the table. You thought you saw indignance in his eyes. Disdain for you and the plight he perceived you to be on. Scorched earth. Loyal to no one but yourself. Maybe that was true. Maybe you’d evolved to become highly selective in where to lay your loyalty.

“He wasn’t my guy,” you spat in Joel’s direction. It might as well have been just the two of you in the room. “He was the guy that killed my parents. So fuck him,”

It was hard to tell what they thought of you. Tommy was the only one who smiled freely. Maria saved hers for Tommy. And Joel didn’t smile at all. There was no talk of a plan or a future. No conversation about what was to become of you. All they told you as you wandered from the main street and down one cul-de-sac road lined with houses was that they didn’t allow anyone to have weapons in town. All firearms stayed at the armory.

That conversation ended as they stopped in front of a small one story cottage. It was dark and rickety, and for the life of you, you couldn’t fathom who you were to be put into the arms of. If the house was any indication, probably some horribly untidy mess of a man. Maybe it’d be the type of man you’d wished you’d have your gun around for.

Maria, Tommy, and Joel led you inside that dark, rickety cottage. Unlocked the door and flicked the lights on as they entered the living room. You kept your eyes and ears alert. Your awareness might be the only upperhand you had in sensing danger here. But you heard nothing. You saw nothing. There wasn’t another soul in this house waiting to attack. It was just you and the three who’d brought you here. They didn’t offer an explanation. Joel just stood back and eyed your every move carefully while Maria handed you a little stack of clean clothes, a toothbrush and a tube toothpaste, and a small cardboard box that held something you’d never heard of before: a diva cup.

You looked up to give her an apprehensive glance but found that she was already giving you one. It was a look you’d seen before. When you’d talked yourself into joining that other group all those years ago. It was the look the women had given you before they realized you were about to become their saving grace. She turned away from you and gave Tommy a peck on her way out; not even bothering to acknowledge Joel.

There was a part of you that admired her. For the amount of power she clearly wielded over not only these two men, but seemingly the entire commune. And the other part of you was scared of her. She reminded you of your mother. A strong, domineering type who knew how to control the men around her. You figured if the outbreak hadn’t happened and humans didn’t devolve before your very eyes, you might’ve become the same type of woman. The type who could keep her men in line with a look. The type whose men would’ve quivered at the look you’d shot them.

The front door shut behind Maria in the same moment Tommy was handing you a key. You took it in your hand and ran your thumb over the cold, smooth metal. It had been decades since you held one like it. Surely even before the outbreak, people just didn’t hand over keys to houses for nothing.

“You can stay in Jackson for a month on a little trial run–”

“Probation,” Joel interrupted.

Both you and Tommy flicked your eyes at him. While Tommy looked annoyed, you actually smiled. Somehow Joel’s bluntness was growing to be comforting.

“Jesus, Joel,”

He shrugged, “S’call it what it is. Probation to see if she’s a problem and we gotta send ‘er packin’,”

“Appreciate you both not shootin’ me,” you said, you voice sounding hoarse. You cleared your throat and shook your head absently; a small smile passing over your lips, “would’ve put a damper on my day.”

Tommy grinned though his brother looked unamused at your effort of levity. “Someone’ll come ‘round tomorrow morning around seven-thirty to bring you to the greenhouse. Teach you the workflow down there.” Then off your confused look, he smiled again, heading for the door, “if you’re gonna live in the community, you gotta help out.”

Joel turned his back on you to follow his brother, and you were quick on their heels, “what about my gun? I mean, does everyone have their own gun at the armory, or…”

“It’s a commune. We share,” Tommy said over his shoulder as he tugged the front door back open. He and Joel stepped through the threshold, but your voice stopped them.

“It’s just that… I’d rather not be here and have my gun, than be here and have someone else usin’ it. I appreciate what you’re doin’, and your helping me out, but… to me, staying in Jackson isn’t worth havin’ someone else use my weapon,”

“It’ll be safe,”

Tommy’s voice rang clear and sure, trying to reassure you of something. What, you weren’t certain. But he continued on his way, and only once he stepped off the small porch, did you realize that Joel had momentarily kept himself frozen in place. By your front door, staring you down. You started to shrink back beneath his gaze, unable to discern what it was trying to convey to you. Anger. Resentment. Disappointment. The door nearly concealed you entirely before Joel got his bearings again and descended the porch steps and jogged to keep pace with Tommy again.

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The whole thing was weird. All of it. Jackson was an anomaly and the more you tried to make yourself at home, the weirder it got. The house they’d just given you was definitely a pre-outbreak build. It was obvious. Some of the other houses on the block looked new. You imagined they’d smell new. Not your cottage. Scuffed up wood floors. Cracks in the paint and drywall. Even the wood-burning stove. And when you looked out the front window, out at the street, you saw children. Walking by themselves. Joking around. Not nearly on edge or high alert. In fact, you dared to say that they looked like they were having fun.

You’d only been ten when the world came crashing down around you. Fun ripped out from right under your feet. The homestead you’d grown up on – climbing trees, playing hide and seek, shooting down Coke cans – once a safe place to be a kid, had quickly become something to be defended. As you found out many moons later, to the death.

At ten, there wasn’t anything to rebuild in the new world. You hadn’t had any worldly possessions to hang onto. When money became obsolete, it didn’t matter because you’d never had any. Perhaps in a bank somewhere, stuffed away in a savings account that no longer held any weight. Nor did you need the money to get by in life these days. You’d heard tales of the QZ’s from people who’d come from them. Escaped from them. They had a new type of currency. Not the kind you used to have. The green paper money with a bunch of old dudes on the front. The kind your family burned sometime in the winter of 2006 when the first freeze took over and you were sure you’d never get back to the old normal.

And that was what made Jackson the weirdest. It was the closest to ‘old normal’ you’d seen in over two decades. A whole town. Village. Commune, they’d called it. A formal education had stopped young, so the only awareness of anything commune related came from a book your father had about the Bolshevik’s October Revolution. And if you were being honest, it didn’t sound too good. But on top of that, how were you supposed to rebuild now? Maria had been kind enough to give you a few things, but there wasn’t wood for the wood-burning stove. And the electricity might’ve been working, but there wasn’t any food in the fridge. No sides of deer cut up and stored in a chest freezer. How were you supposed to get that in a commune? Did they have money? Did they barter? And either way, you had no money to give and nothing to barter. So how exactly were you supposed to get on in life?

Face up, staring at the ceiling, you laid in bed willing yourself to go to sleep. You’d gone to bed hungry before. More times than you could count. But usually those nights were accompanied by a dirt floor, extreme cold, the threat of being hunted. A million other things to keep your mind off of the fact that your stomach was growling. There wasn’t any of that in Jackson. Everything was quiet, almost eerily so. You were warm. And even though the mattress wasn’t the comfiest of things, it sure as hell beat the floor. With all these little luxuries, it was hard to ignore the hunger.

But even if you had been asleep, you’re sure you would’ve been woken by the footsteps on your old, rickety porch. None of the wood planks laid exactly right. All creaking with age and rot. Much like the world, you thought. Plus you couldn’t remember a night’s sleep that wasn’t disturbed by panic or anxiety, or just plain fear. Probably hadn’t had a peaceful night like that since before the outbreak. Now that creaking on your porch made you jump up and scurry into the corner of your bedroom. Into the shadows. Praying you’d had your rifle. Cursing the idea that you’d stay here without it.

The creaking came and went in a steady procession. Four footsteps. A pause. Another four footsteps. On and on for a few minutes. Long enough for you to have gained your courage again. Long enough for you to have crawled to the front room and peek through the window. Long enough for you to see Joel Miller ambling back and forth on the porch, stacking pieces of wood, conveniently chopped to fit the size of your wood burning stove. What a stark difference from the Joel Miller who’d been pointing a gun at your head this morning. You went to the door and unlatched it, slowly pulling it open so as to not startle him. He came to an abrupt stop. An armful of wood. Staring at you.

He blinked a couple times in quick procession, gaining the wherewithal to move again. “M’sorry if I woke ya’,”

You shook your head, “I don’t sleep much.”

Joel nodded and set the armful of wood on top of the rest. He wiped his hands on the back of his jeans, almost sheepishly. “Winter comes up on us pretty quick here. Insulation in this place is for the birds. Figured you’d need some wood for the stove.”

“Oh,”

“I cleaned out the flue a couple months back so you shouldn’t smoke yourself out,”

Lips pursed together, you pondered the stack of wood nestled up against the cottage. “I don’t think I’m gonna stay. Doesn’t seem like this is the right place for me,”

Joel didn’t have a response for you, just looked down at his feet and kicked at a nonexistent something on the porch.

“That gun–my gun. My dad gave it to me in 2003. September 26th,”

Joel’s eyes flicked back to yours. Pain riddled in his gaze as if he remembered that date all too well. And when it vanished, the coldness you’d first noticed in the hunting cabin returned.

“It’s all I have left. And as ridiculous as it sounds to be so attached to a rifle, I am. And I–”

“It doesn’t sound ridiculous,” he interrupted. Just when you thought he’d continue on and show a little more softness, kindness… he kept speaking, “Look, I don’t care if you stay or go. Don’t need stragglers hangin’ ‘round. So I’d love to give you your gun back and dump ya’ out past the gate. But Tommy’s always been a little stupid. Takes chances on people,”

“What an idiot,” you smirked.

A smile flashed over Joel’s face. It was gone in a second. And he turned away from you, descending the porch steps. “He’ll bring you to the greenhouse. Teach’ya how things operate, and…” he took a deep breath. Something almost like fondness erupted in his tone, “you might not wanna stay, but don’t fuck things up there for the rest of us. We got families here. And we’ll need the resources to get through the winter.”

“You think I’d fuck things up on purpose?”

Joel looked over his shoulder and nodded, “yeah. ‘Cause I’ve been in your spot before and I did.”

He continued on and you stayed put on your porch, watching him until he was out of sight. Wondering where the house he was given was. If he was alone, or if he had some sort of partner living with him. But also figured you’d never get the chance to know.

⌾ ⌾ ⌾ ⌾ ⌾

“We get most of our roughage and root vegetables in the colder months. There’s a constant harvest to keep up with the community’s needs, but some of these aren’t hearty enough to withstand the winter. Even inside the greenhouse,”

You nodded dutifully behind Wendy. At least you think that was the name Tommy mumbled as he was being dragged out of the greenhouse by Joel. Something about being late for patrol and not wanting to spend all day on some godforsaken cliffside. She’d just got done showing you the strawberry vines. The lifeless things that she assured you would spring to life when the warmer weather came back.

The work was easy enough. Boring. Nothing you hadn’t already done on your family’s land as a teenager. Only this was on a much smaller scale. Maybe most of these people had come from QZs. And maybe before that they came from big cities. Places where they never knew where their food came from. That it just somehow appeared in their groceries. Yet, by current standards… of canned things from yesteryear, the greenhouse was a bit of a spectacle. Something beautiful.

Wendy continued on her well-practiced lecture about potatoes as you got lost roaming the rows of plants. Up and down each long, leafed path. Fingers gliding over them, not taking the time to stop and acknowledge any plant in particular. Until, in the absence of your thought, your fingers brushed over something woolly. Pulling your hand back, you focused in. There, just beyond your fingertips, a tray of small white flowers. The petals, less like blossoms, but more like leaves. And woolly. Fuzzy. Unlike anything you’d ever seen.

“What’re these?” Eyes still locked onto your discovery, you hadn’t fully comprehended that you’d interrupted Wendy’s spiel.

And yet when she came upon you, there was no ill will or annoyance from her. Just her gentle hand on your shoulder. “It’s edelweiss,” she smiled and shrugged her shoulders when her answer had you giving her a questioning glance. “It’s usually up in the Alps. In the middle of nowhere. Jesse came back from patrol one day ‘bout a year ago with a handful of these plucked up from the root. No idea how they ended up in Wyoming.” Wendy brushed her fingers over the fuzzy leaves.

“How’d you know what they were?”

“Call it coincidence or divine intervention, my grandfather had an oil painting of them above his fireplace in the eighties. When he was stationed in Germany during the war, he’d heard all these stories about this little star-shaped flower. Soldiers would climb high up into the mountains to find them. They grow in the harshest places, sometimes even right on rocks. The journey to get them was hard. A lot of guys didn’t finish the trip, but if they did, they got to pin one of these to their uniforms. A symbol of true bravery,”

You admired the flowers again. Now even a smile crossed your face.

Wendy let out an exasperated sigh, “and I figured, hell… if they can survive on the top of the Alps and in this nightmare of an apocalypse, Jesse finding ‘em wasn’t no mistake. Maybe we’re lucky here in Jackson.”

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qveerthe0ry · 2 days

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Conquer the Heart

Summary: Joel comes out - written for @romanarose Pride Event Week 1: Coming Out Word Count: 3,981 Pairing: Joel Miller x M! Reader Rating: Mature (but my blog is 18+ mdni) Warnings: vague descriptions of sex, fluff, kissing, conversations about sexuality, really that's it this is pretty much just sweet and fluffy with a tiny hint of spice Betas: @for-a-longlongtime and @perotovar who could have guessed? Love y'all <3 A/N: I just wanted to make Joel queer idk. Title from an Orville Peck song because of course

You don’t know what possessed you to pay the $5 cover to check that place out. The Round-Up Saloon, perched on a street corner in downtown Austin. The outside was unassuming enough, but the neon lights and mechanical bull and rotating dance floor inside made it look like something straight out of Urban Cowboy.

There were all kinds of crowds. College kids and business casuals and actual cowboys. And it’s Austin, so all the sexualities were represented in one way or another as you took note of the couples at tables and on the dance floor. You couldn’t really care about any of them, though, as soon as you laid eyes on him.

You were drawn to him and his broad shoulders and tight Wrangler blue jeans.

He was with a big group of women and men, all drinking and laughing and taking turns line-dancing with each other on the dance floor.

And to think you only stumbled into the honky tonk cowboy bar out of curiosity… It certainly wasn’t your scene.

But you’d watched Joel dance with a few women with respectful hand placement, and then he danced with a man, and hope had bubbled up inside of you to the sound of Alan Jackson.

He was a little sweaty when you worked up the courage to talk to him, and his cologne masked all the alcohol and cigarettes in the air.

You plastered on a flirty smile and asked him if he could teach you some of his moves. When he looked taken aback and flustered, you backtracked.

“I’m sorry, I saw you dancing with that guy— I didn’t mean to assume.”

“Tommy? That’s my brother,” he’d explained, a little flushed in the face.

“Oh! Shit, sorry, ignore me.”

But he’d caught your arm as you turned to hibernate for approximately 5-10 business days.

“I don’t see no harm in teachin’ you.”

And so he did. And it was fun, and his hands on you were so warm you swear they branded his mark all over your skin.

A few songs, all background noise to the ‘he’s just straight, don’t do this’ mantra in your head, and he was leading you off the dance floor for another beer.

A friendly beer. Surely that’s all it was.

But he was so friendly. He gave you pointers on how to dance, and then asked if you’re from around here, and then he was waving off his group of friends when they all announced their departure.

He asked you about your job, and you asked about his, and then the way his hands felt rough on the skin of your arm made more sense.

Maybe you were crazy, or the two beers you had were really getting to your head, but there was something so unspeakably electric between you. You felt it when he’d lean in closer to hear you, the way he touched your arm with the back of his bottle-filled fist, the way his hoppy breath ghosted across your cheek to reach your ear.

And then he said he should probably get home, and asked if he should walk you to your car, and maybe he wasn’t straight, you thought, as he briefly placed his hand on your back to guide you through the packed bar.

And you really, really shouldn’t have. But you asked for his number, and he put it in your shitty flip phone, and then you kissed him.

Right on the mouth. A quick peck that was so short you could’ve nearly pretended it was an accident.

He looked so stunned, and guilt boiled up in your stomach.

But he’d grabbed your wrist gently, and looked you in the eyes.

“I’m uh… I don’t… I haven’t ever done that.”

“That was your first kiss?”

It was a joke, and thank god he laughed. His smile looked so fucking good under the shitty, flickering street lamps.

“Call me, okay?”

And then he was gone. You thought about him the whole drive home, while you got undressed and ready for bed, as you fell asleep. You felt his touch in your dreams, and when you woke in the morning you could hardly believe he was real.

But his phone number was burning a hole in your cell phone. You stared at it on and off all Saturday long. What would you even say? Why did he even want you to call him, if he’d never even kissed a guy before? Did he just want a new drinking buddy?

The dread built up all day long, until it was late, and a sense of now or never goaded you into calling his number.

He answered, and you told him who you were, and he’d sounded so surprised to hear from you. He didn’t think you’d want to see him again, after he embarrassed himself, and his admission made you balk.

You told him you were the one who felt embarrassed. He laughed at that. Said he’s a lot smoother with ladies, but you made him feel nervous. He said he wanted to meet up again.

And so you did.

Just a shitty diner for an early dinner on Sunday, unassuming enough. The chemistry you felt at the bar hadn’t faded. If anything, it was so much more apparent now. The way he blushed when you flirted seemed less like the bad kind of gay panic. His foot kept nudging yours under the table.

He walked you to your car again, and then he kissed you, much less chaste than the night at the bar, with one big, rough hand on your neck and the other on your hip.

“That was pretty good for only your second kiss,” you’d said.

He shrugged, a sheepish smile gracing his heated face.

“Should stick around and find out about the third.”

And if you hadn’t already been wrapped around his finger, he certainly secured the spot for you then.

He wasn’t new to dating, but he was new to this, and it showed. He got pretty easily flustered around you. On your second date, he brought up his daughter for the first time like he’d forgotten he hadn’t mentioned her before. A casual thing, talking about her getting ready to graduate high school.

“Does Sarah know… who you’re on a date with?”

Joel shook his head.

“Not yet. No one does… Not even sure how to explain it to myself, if I’m honest.”

You were patient with him. It’s gotta be culture shock, living nearly 40 years of your life completely straight and having some random guy at a bar change that for you overnight.

You took things slow. You talked a lot over the phone, after Sarah went to sleep. He told you about his dating history, Sarah’s mom and only a few unserious flings after. You tried not to psychoanalyze him, but it makes a little bit of sense. Getting some girl pregnant at 19, marrying her, getting ditched with a toddler and a curt ‘good luck’ and then raising her on your own?

No wonder he never questioned his sexuality. There was genuinely no time to.

At first, you thought you may just be a stepping stone. A news flash for him, an experiment, something fun for a season. It didn’t bother you. It’s happened before. But as your nightly talks got longer, and as you took each other out more and more often, it became clear that it wasn’t like that.

You watched with fascination and adoration as Joel figured things out. It was so endearing when he asked if he should hold the door open for you, or if you should take turns. Likewise, when he held your hand in public for the first time, the way he asked your permission made your heart grow way too big for your rib cage.

Things weren’t perfect, of course, but nothing ever is. You didn’t get to see him as much as you ideally would. You were both busy during the work week, and he often had father duties on the weekends. Most of your dates were quick dinner bites when Sarah had a school thing, or an odd Saturday here or there when Sarah had a sleepover.

But that was quite enough for you. You weren’t even looking for something when you’d met him. You didn’t feel the need to move quickly when you hadn’t planned on going anywhere in the first place.

And he was sweet, and quite self-aware.

“Wish we could spend more time together,” he’d tell you over the phone, “I know this ain’t the way things normally go.”

But you liked him. So much. So it didn’t bother you.

And, as the weeks passed by, he opened up more. He started asking you more pointed questions, like how you came out to those closest to, and what it was like. He asked if you were seeing other people— it’s okay if you are, was just wonderin’— and then he asked you if you wanted to be together when you made it clear you weren’t.

“Like… as boyfriend and boyfriend?”

He chuckled, the deep gravel a familiar tone swimming through your landline with a nervous twinge to it.

“Yeah, as boyfriend and boyfriend.”

And he treated you right, and you got along with him so well, and he was so put together and responsible and respectful.

“I’d really like to be your boyfriend.”

And his breath had hitched so loud it was caught by the receiver, but you could hear the smile in his voice when he told you that he’d really like that, too.

A few days after that, he told you Sarah would be gone all weekend, on a team trip for some hiking and kayaking and bonding.

“Could I stay at yours? I hate to invite myself, it’s just— Tommy’s got no boundaries. Wouldn’t want him bargin’ in, y’know, before I get to tell him.”

You didn’t mind one bit, aside from the mountain of laundry you had to fold in preparation for his arrival.

It was the first time you’d been truly alone with him. Your dates were always public, at least somewhat. And he’d kissed you, a ton, but that’s as far as it had ever gone.

You definitely wanted him. You’d wanted him since the very second you laid eyes on him at that cheesy honky tonk bar. But it was funny how nervous you were, even though your experience with men put Joel’s to shame.

It was a lot like high school, in the way you danced around each other at first. A movie on your couch, with his arm draped along the back of it. Readjusting to ‘get comfy,’ inching, until the warmth of his body was pressed against yours and his arm dropped from the back of the couch to your shoulders.

His heartbeat was deafening, hard and fast, when you’d tucked your head against his chest. You moved your hand to his knee in the world’s most intense match of The Nervous Game and feared for his cardiovascular health.

He said your name, and like it was the magic word, every single facade crumbled around you in an instant.

His kisses made your head spin, and the way his thick thighs felt under your own was addictive, and it was over before either of you realized it had started. Two sets of soiled pants and underwear thrown into your washing machine, along with the last of the pretenses. And then you’d dragged him to your bed.

The sex wasn’t even your favorite part. The best was the morning after, and how you were plastered to his back as you woke up slow and easy. The way he held your arm to his stomach, even in his sleep. And the way you only got out of bed for food or bathroom breaks, a whole day with him, alone, uninterrupted.

Just as you started to worry that this was a one-time thing, at least for a while, Joel huffed beside you and nuzzled his head into your shoulder.

“I wanna come out. At least to Tommy ‘n Sarah. S’not right, keeping you a secret like this when you’ve been makin’ me so happy. I know you’d make them happy too.”

You stroked his hair, and asked if he was sure, and though his pretty brown eyes looked wide and scared, his jaw was set with a determined nod.

So you devised a plan. Or— Joel devised it, and asked for your input, and it all made you a bit giddy.

He had you over for dinner. Just as a friend, at first. He’d ordered pizza and stocked beer and told Tommy and Sarah he was having a friend over.

You wondered if Tommy would recognize you from the bar, but if he did, he didn’t show it. He just talked your ear off about Texas sports and old cars.

Sarah was… well, you understood why Joel could never seem to smile wide enough when he talked about her. She was so smart, and kind-hearted, and funny. You had a hard time keeping up, but the way Joel and Tommy were around her, you think she probably has that effect on most people.

It was a nice night, fun and easy conversation, good pizza, and a very competitive game of Boggle in which Sarah dominated.

And it was only a little bit difficult to spend the evening as just Joel’s friend, solely because of how easily you fit into his life. You wanted to scream it from the rooftops, that Joel wanted you to be a piece in his puzzle.

Sarah, so politely, excused herself to go to bed as it got later. The three of you left shuffled around, gathering game pieces and paper plates and empty cans, until you all eventually met back in the kitchen. Joel gave you a look, and you gave him a comforting smile right back, and it was like the room’s air was replaced with water as he spoke up.

“Tommy?”

“Mmhmm?”

The younger brother whipped around to face you both, sliding the leftovers into the fridge with a slice in his mouth.

“I uh… I wanted to let you know that I’m— that we’re, uh… Together?”

You watched as his dark eyes glazed over for a second, brow scrunched up in confusion. And then his gaze flickered from you to him, and back to you, and his eyes grew as big as saucers.

“No kiddin’?”

Joel laughed.

“Serious. He’s my… He’s my boyfriend.”

Tommy swallowed his mouthful of pizza, wiped his mustache, and smiled. A genuine smile, sweet and warm, reaching his eyes.

“Hermano, good for you. That’s— I’m happy for you.”

He opened his arms and tugged Joel into a hug, and Joel grumbled something about Tommy getting pizza grease on his clothes, but he was smiling wide and relieved over Tommy’s shoulder.

But then Joel’s face got serious again as Tommy pulled away with a manly slap to his shoulder.

“Sarah doesn’t know yet. I wanted to make sure everyone got along first, y’know?”

And then Tommy was looking at you and rolling his eyes and chuckling.

“Think we all get along just fine. You should tell her soon.”

And Joel knew Tommy was right, but it didn’t stop him from looking so anxious when Tommy left with another round of goodbye hugs.

“What are you most worried about?”

You asked him because you knew there were many things to fret over, in his situation.

“Just that… She’s had this idea of me this whole time, y’know? What if she sees me different, and then things change between us?”

And god, that made your throat feel thick, and Joel’s eyes got a little misty, so you pulled him tight against you and let him sag into your hold.

“I know the feeling,” you told him, “but I don’t think you have to worry about that.”

“No?”

You huffed a laugh and tangled your fingers in the curls at the back of his neck.

“You mean everything to her. I can tell just by how she looks at you. Never seen a teenager like their dad that much.”

And he laughed too, a little wet against your shoulder.

“Will you be there with me when I tell her? I don’t— I don’t think I can do it alone.”

Your lips found his bristly cheek and planted a kiss there, and you mumbled of course into the salty skin.

So you went home, with plans to come back the next day. This wasn’t easy for you, either, dating a guy with a kid for the first time. You knew she liked you, at least, but that was a face value assessment. Would she mind you taking up more of her dad’s time? Would she mind you in their space every so often? Would she mind if you came around to her soccer games or science fairs or graduation, as her dad’s boyfriend, in front of all the other kids with nuclear families? Would she resent you for shaking up what they had?

You didn’t get much sleep, thinking about it. You wondered if you should bring her some kind of gift, flowers or a trinket or something, but then you’d be trying too hard, right?

As you got ready the next morning, you thought about all the ways it could go wrong, but none of them really seemed realistic. Sarah was sweet, and intelligent, and surely if she did have reservations, they’d be able to talk them through civilly.

Right?

You couldn’t even listen to music on your way to their house. It was a silent fifteen minute drive with your nerves boiling over and spilling out, thinking of how awkward things could get.

But all of that kind of fell to the wayside when Sarah answered the door and said “I haven’t seen you in forever” with a cheeky grin and those bright eyes she definitely got from Joel.

It felt cozy when you sat down at their kitchen table while they sipped their coffee and orange juice and Sarah told you both all about the English project she was working on. It put you at ease to ask her questions about things you have in common, and for all of you to mesh so well into a normal conversation.

But as it lulled, you noticed Joel getting restless, and you noticed Sarah noticing his uneasiness.

“Dad, you’re acting weird in front of our company.”

And while she was alway kind and respectful, she was still a teenager with a dorky dad.

“Well… I wanted to talk to you about somethin’.”

She looked at him with her head tilted and her eyebrow raised.

“Now?”

She nodded her head toward you as she asked, and you couldn’t blame her for being confused as to why he had to have a heart-to-heart with his ‘friend’ visiting.

“Yeah um… You know how you’re always tellin’ me I should get a life and start datin’?”

Sarah laughed and looked at you.

“Yeah, could you be his wingman? It’s getting sad.”

And you laughed, and Joel laughed, but it was a little forced, and Sarah’s smart, so you could read the confusion on her face.

“What’s this about, dad?”

Joel took a big, deep breath and took Sarah’s hand on the table. You watched her squeeze his fingers as her face twisted up in worry.

“He’s my— we’re dating. He’s my… boyfriend.”

The worry dissipated, and her eyes got wide and her lips pursed before her jaw slowly dropped with surprise.

“You guys are together?”

She looked over to you, then, and all you could do was give her a soft smile and nod.

“I know you might have some questions—”

“How long? When did you guys meet?”

She looked back to Joel to answer, but you could see he was still reeling, with sweat saturating the curls at his temples.

“Just a couple months ago, he taught me how to dance to the Boot Scootin’ Boogie.”

She made a noise, like a scoff, and it made you wince.

“Months!? Dad, why didn’t you tell me?”

You watched Joel’s eyes cloud with— fear? You’d never seen him look so scared.

“I’m sorry, babygirl. I just— I guess I didn’t know how. At first.”

His voice trembled, and you watched Sarah’s lip quiver before she shot out of her chair and lunged toward her dad, wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

“I love you,” she’d mumbled, like she knew it was what he needed to hear, because his shoulders slumped and his arms wrapped around her back.

You thought maybe you should look away. It felt real personal. But Joel had asked you to be here, and it was about you, too, as much as that fact made you want to burrow underground.

“You could have told me sooner. I love boy talk.”

Her voice was muffled and heavy with tears, but Joel chuckled all the same through his own misty gaze.

“I didn’t know you liked boys.”

She pulled away but didn’t go far, letting her hands squeeze his biceps as she looked to him for an answer.

“Me neither,” he shrugged, “I like this boy, though. A lot.”

And he got this goofy smile on his face, even though it was a little wet, and he looked at you, and you felt so awkward but so head over heels.

“Okay, well, you still should have told me. I would’ve been on the porch cleaning Uncle Tommy’s shotgun when he pulled up.”

Joel groaned and covered his face but you couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled up out of you.

“What are your intentions with my father?”

And though her tone was joking, her eyes grew soft as she waited for an answer.

“I guess I just wanna make him happy. Because he makes me happy. If that’s alright with you?”

She sat back down and rested her chin in her hand, with her lips pursed again as she thought.

“Sarah, you can have time to think—”

“Deal.”

She extended her hand out to you from across the table, and you took it eagerly to shake on it. But after an appropriate amount of handshake time, she didn’t let your hand go.

“You have to come over for movie nights now.”

“I can do that.”

“And I have to make sure your taste in movies doesn’t suck before I let you pick one.”

“That’s fair.”

“ALSO—“

“Sarah,” Joel interrupted, “this isn’t how deals work. You can’t add stuff while he’s still shaking your hand.”

“As I was saying,” Sarah rolled her eyes, squeezing your hand tighter, “you have to treat him right. He acts all tough but he’s just a softy.”

“Oh Christ,” Joel huffed.

“No, she has a point,” you told him with a smirk, “I promise I will, Sarah.”

Her eyes narrowed at you, but then she grinned, and finally let go of your hand.

So yeah, you really really like Joel Miller. You’re never happier than you are when you spend the evening at his house, snuggled up on one side of him while Sarah’s snuggled up to the other, watching some movie Sarah’s usually the one to pick.

Or when you meet him and Tommy at Sarah’s soccer game, and he greets you with a smile and lifts the bill of your Miller Contracting hat you’ve stolen to peck your lips.

Or when you’re in your own kitchen, making his coffee, and you feel sleepy arms wrap around your waist and a sleep warm kiss at the nape of your neck.

Really, as long as you’re with Joel, you’re the happiest you’ve ever been. And if those three little words slip out one day soon, well, there isn’t a single thing that makes you think Joel would be surprised by them.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller x you #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fluff #joel miller fanfic #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #OscarPedroPrideEvent2024

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joelsdolly · 21 hours

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joel miller x clingy!sensitive!reader

warnings: fluff!! reader is basically a crybaby (she just like me fr)

notes: hi guys here are some very short hc's about joel with a sensitive gf😔

ೃ⁀➷ he loves how clingy you are, the way you always need to have his arm around you or the way that if he leaves for too long he'll come back to your crying and missing him, as much as he hates seeing you sad he can't help but like the fact you need to be around him so bad

ೃ⁀➷ he takes everything you cry about soso seriously, even if it's something that would be deemed as dumb he doesn't care!! he will comfort you and not diminish your feelings !

ೃ⁀➷ he would never do anything to make you cry and if he accidentally did he would feel so incredibly bad, he couldn't forgive himself knowing he's the one that made tears well up in your eyes:(

ೃ⁀➷ he will yell at anyone who hurts you!!! doesn't matter who!!! he will throw down !!!! he loves to protect you and just make you feel safe

ೃ⁀➷ if you wear makeup and you start to cry he'll clean it up from you^^ he grabs his sleeve and wipes the mascara from under your eyes, he does it extra careful if your in public!!

ೃ⁀➷ he loves buying you things to cheer you up! even if it's just little things he'll do anything to see you smile!!!! he adores buying you dresses and skirts and all that cute stuff>3<

ೃ⁀➷ is the best at comforting you>_< he hugs you soso tight! and he shushes you and strokes your back, he loves you so much and does everything he can to make you feel better

#joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller #i love joel miller!!!#joel miller fluff #tlou x you #tlou2 fanfic #tlou x reader #tlou fanfiction #joel miller smut

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im-constantly-fangirling · 9 hours

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Wandering Home

Summary: As a bartender, you know every single face in Jackson. When a grumpy but kind-at-heart traveler makes his way into the diner you work at, you can't help but be curious.

No Outbreak au!Joel Miller x afab!reader

Word Count: ~10k

Warnings: cursing, slight reference of Parks and Rec towards the end, mentions of self harm (not reader), smut [dirty talk, praise and slight degradation kink, oral sex (f receiving), allusion to breeding kink, choking, dom-ish Joel]

Note on smut: If you don't want to read the smut, skip the scene in between the two *s!

Masterlist

Working at the diner in Jackson was no easy job.

It seemed that people had a borderline excessive appetite for alcohol- and they relied on you to fulfill it. You didn’t mind the work, as it numbed you the way a bottle could, but you supposed you could do without the yelling, obscene comments, and the general carelessness of the people who couldn’t really hold their liquor.

The one benefit you found with being a bartender was information. Every small town had its fair share of gossip, and Jackson definitely delivered. Travelers came and went, and those who stayed would alter Jackson’s social routine just a little bit. You were a town full of shattered pieces of what were once whole people, but those pieces of glass joined to make a stunning mosaic- no matter how jagged and uneven it was.

It was just another ordinary day when the door to the bar opened, revealing an unfamiliar face. A swift silence wafted through the bar before the man walked in and Tommy followed behind. A sigh of relief seemed to go through every one. The bar resumed its normal revelry.

You were cleaning a glass with a rag when Tommy and the man walked up to the bar. “Y/n, I’d like you to meet my brother, Joel.”

You smiled at him, putting the glass down and flipping the rag over your shoulder. “Nice to meet you, Joel,” you greeted him. He didn't respond with more than a grunt and a nod, but you didn’t mind. He had dirt smudged over his face, his flannel shirt, his forearms. Scars adorned any amount of skin that showed. And those eyes…

Holding his gaze, you almost saw the emptiness behind them. As if he had nothing left in him. This was a man who had seen hell.

If Tommy noticed his brother’s grumpiness, he certainly didn’t care to comment on it. “Y/n’s the best bartender in town. If you treat her real nice, she might slip you a free drink or two,” he said, whispering the last part conspiratorily.

You chuckled, lightly smacking Tommy on the shoulder. “Don’t go around telling everyone, now,” you teased. “But since you’re Tommy’s brother, I’ll get you your first drink on the house. Any friend of Tommy’s is a friend of mine.”

Joel nodded gratefully- or you understood it to be gratefully- before clearing his throat. “I’ll just take the strongest whiskey you’ve got.” Even his voice was rough. You wondered if there was a single part of him that the world hadn’t taken away from him. “But don’t go making a habit out of giving me a free drink. I’d be more than happy to pay,” he declared while taking a seat. The soft southern lilt of his voice made you smile. It had been a while since you heard that accent.

Tommy sat on the bar stool and leaned his head in his hand. “And I’ll take some gin, please.”

You turned around, letting the brothers get reacquainted while you served them their drinks. Their voices got drowned out by the laughter in the bar- but every now and then, when business was slow, you’d quietly make your way over to their side of the bar.

“-she’s everything to me, Tommy. I’ll take some of her shifts. After everything she’s gone through, she deserves to just relax,” you heard Joel say.

Huh, you wondered. Didn’t peg him for the married type. You couldn’t deny your disappointment, but you couldn’t stop smiling lightly. The grumpy man had a soft spot. It was odd but endearing to watch his eyebrows round out at the edges.

Tommy lightly hummed. “As long as the work gets done, I don’t think that’ll be an issue.” He paused. “Just…be careful, Joel. People around here are really close knit. You don’t want to go around pissing people off by being all-”

“Pissy?” Joel finished, taking a sip of his whiskey. “Look, I don’t plan on staying long, anyway. I’ll get out of your hair-”

“Ma’am, can I get another?” you heard a man’s voice call out. He was almost slumped against the bar, his hand held up limply in the air. Great, you thought. Just what I needed to end rush hour.

You wiped the back of your hand against your forehead. “Bill, I don’t know if that’s such a good idea,” you trailed off.

Bill didn’t seem to like that answer, and you felt your heart start speeding up. “Just give me one more! I wasn’t fucking asking,” his voice slurred, echoing throughout the bar. It was as if he sucked the life right out of the building. No one moved.

You stared at Bill, your eyes hardening. “This happens every week, Bill. Aren’t you sick of this little tradition we have going on? Cause I am.” You put your hands together into a fist and leaned against the bar, letting your face get close to Bill’s. “You reek of piss and you’re acting like a lazy bum. How about you go back home and sleep the alcohol off before you get dragged out?”

Bill’s sweaty hands grab your arm. “What the fuck did you say?”

You felt your palms start sweating. “Bill,” you said calmly. “Get a hold of yourself, okay? You don’t gotta be like this.” Even with all your bravado, you didn’t love the idea of Bill’s anger being directed solely toward you. He was a 210 pound, six foot tall man. You knew how to pick your battles.

Bill growled loudly at you, spit flying from his mouth, making your face scrunch up with disgust. At the sound of his growl, several other townspeople stood up from their chairs, getting ready to intervene if needed. You saw them all slightly leaning forward, as if they’d run for Bill the second he stepped out of line.

One of Bill’s hands let go of your arm in favor of roughly grabbing your chin. You closed your eyes and tried turning away from his grip, but his alcohol ridden mind had no semblance of propriety, and he held your chin and cheeks in a vice like grip. “Listen here, you insolent-”

“Hey!” another voice boomed. It was rough, like the feeling of the tough boar bristles on your hair comb. Joel. “Don’t touch her!”

“Joel, she’s got this,” you heard Tommy say quietly. “You can’t go around making enemies on your first day.”

“Fucking hell, ”Joel grumbled at his brother. He stood up from his bar stool and walked over to where Bill was hunched over the counter, squeezing your chin as if he wouldn’t rest until the blood flow stopped. “Are you going to let go, or am I going to have to make you?”

Bill sneered at Joel. “I’ll do whatever I damn well like! Who the fuck even are you?”

Joel glared at him before roughly tearing Bill’s hands off of you. “Who the fuck are you to hurt the woman who’s been putting up with your shit for god knows how long?”

You glanced at Tommy with worry. He seemed to understand your silent plea because he got up and placed a secure hand on his brother’s shoulder. “How about I take Bill home, alright Joel?”

Joel kept glaring at Bill, as if he was putting a large amount of self-control into not teaching Bill a lesson, but he ultimately huffed lightly and moved out of Tommy’s way. Tommy put an arm around Bill’s shoulder, pushing him straight out of the bar, saying “Come on, Bill, you know Mary’s probably worried sick about ya.” You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. Poor Mary.

Joel, to your surprise, didn’t accompany his brother to escort Bill back home. Instead, after watching the pair leave the bar and shut the double doors, he simply turned around to face you. “I’m uh,” he paused, scratching at his face. “I’m sorry about all the fuss. Just didn’t wanna see him disrespect you.”

You stroked the place where Bill had a vice grip on your arms, hoping that it wouldn’t bruise the next day. “I’m very grateful, Joel,” you said, smiling. “And I know you didn’t make a friend out of Bill, but I hope you know you made a friend out of me.”

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ

Joel quickly became a regular at your diner, but he never ordered any food. He’d walk in through the doors and walk directly towards the bar, planting himself in the same barstool and drinking the same whiskey. You never really minded. He always treated you with respect, made good on his promise to pay for every drink going forward, and occasionally stepped in to help you when a townsperson got a little too drunk.

Neither of you talked much, but you quietly learned things about each other. You noticed his wardrobe seemed to consist solely of different colored flannels and jeans. He spoke in a variety of intricate grunts, ranging from “hey” to “thank you.” Truly, Joel was a verbally gifted man.

Tonight wasn’t anything different. The diner was quite barren, with just a few people sitting amongst the tables, eating with close friends and family. The clink of the alcohol bottles was coupled with soft chuckles and the scraping of forks against ceramic plates.

Joel was sitting towards the left side of the bar, leaning against the stool he always inhabited. “Hey,” he said. “Can I-”

You smiled at him, your hands leaning against the countertop. “-get a whiskey? Surely we can skip the pleasantries now, Miller,” you jested lightly. Turning around, you grabbed Joel’s favorite whiskey and a glass. “How’s Jackson treating you?”

Joel grunted, and you expected that to be the end of your discussion, as it usually was every night. But instead, while you poured out a generous amount of whiskey, you heard Joel’s rough voice say, “It’s been pretty good.”

You handed him the glass. “I’m glad you like it here. I know we’re a small town, but we’re not so bad once you get used to us.” You took out your rag and started wiping down the counter.

Joel sipped his whiskey, his red flannel pulling open a little to reveal his grey shirt underneath. You couldn’t help drifting your eyes toward his chest, but the second you caught yourself you went back to gazing at the counter, hoping he wouldn’t notice. He’s married, you thought to yourself, angrily. Behave.

Although there’s nothing wrong with accidentally looking, I guess.

He set down his glass on the counter and let out a little sigh. “Y’all definitely get a lotta snow.”

You chuckled, leaving your rag on the counter for a moment. “Yeah, it took me a while to get used to. Us southern folk just aren’t made for this type of cold.”

Joel’s eyebrow lifted slightly, intrigued. “You from the south?”

“I’m from Texas,” you revealed. “Life just forced me up north, but nothing quite feels like Texas.”

He slightly smiled, and you were almost shocked. Not once in these last few weeks did you see Joel smile, and you were confused as to why he would hide such a beautiful sight from the world. It was like the troubles of life lifted off his shoulders for just a moment, and you saw the Joel that could have been. “I’m from Texas, too. Austin.”

“No kidding,” you sighed. “You don’t see a lot of us this far north. It’s a shame. I’ve never met a friendlier group of people than down there,” you said wistfully.

Joel took another sip of his whiskey. “Well, one day you gotta go back down there. Not that I mind Jackson, but-”

“Heya,” a voice interrupted Joel. You turned to see Adelaide, your neighbor, sitting in a barstool to your right. She looked like she had just come off of work, as she was still wearing a sweater with her teacher name tag clipped near her left breast. “Sorry, did I interrupt something?”

You smiled and shook your head. “It’s okay, Addie. Can I get you anything? You don’t usually get outta school this late.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Joel had gone back to sipping at his whiskey and staring at the wall of bottles behind the bar, as he normally did when he came to visit. A small pit of disappointment stayed in your stomach. You had just gotten him to talk.

Addie sighed, twirling her brown hair around her finger. “I wanted to get ahead on grading cause the end of the school year is coming up,” she said. “And god knows I need more time to deal with all that work.”

You put your hand on hers, tilting your head. “You need to rest, Addie. You can’t keep working yourself to the bone.”

Addie waved her hand in a dismissive motion, scoffing. “I’m fine, don’t you worry. The work is distracting.”

You raised your right eyebrow. “Distracting from what?” you asked, pulling your hand back.

She leaned forward, some of her hair fanning out in front of her shoulders. “He cheated, y/n. He cheated, and then he left me, and I don’t wanna think about it more than I have to.”

Your jaw dropped, anger settling into your heart. “How could he? What’s wrong with him?”

Addie leaned back into her barstool, a stoic set to her jaw. “Apparently, Jace had even less of a brain than I gave him credit for. And do you know who he cheated on me with?” She paused. “Bill's wife Mary.”

Joel choked on his whiskey, spilling some onto the counter, and both you and Addie turned toward him. He looked nervous, ready to be faced with a barrage of insults for eavesdropping on your conversation, but Addie pointed at him and said, “Exactly! I had the same reaction!”

You chuckled, turning towards Joel apologetically. “I can get you another glass if you want, Miller. On the house.”

Joel grumbled and shook his head. “I told ya, I’m not gonna make a habit out of this free drink thing.”

You put your hands on your hips and sighed. “Well, think of it as a bribe for your secrecy. You’ve stumbled upon sacred gossip, Miller.” You turned towards Addie. “Don’t we need to buy his silence?”

Addie nodded enthusiastically. “Oh, of course. The whole town is going to be in over my head if we don’t keep this quiet.”

You turned back to Joel, looking at him pointedly. “So?” you questioned. “Do you accept our proposition?”

Joel let a small smile slip back onto his face again, and he nodded. “In the name of the greater good, I accept.” You beamed, grabbing his glass and filling it. Behind you, you heard Joel turn to Addie, saying, “For what it’s worth, Jace sounds like a dick.”

“He is,” Addie replied, matter-of-factly.

You turned around and handed Joel another glass of whiskey before sighing. “Well,” you started. “I’m officially done for the day.”

Joel gulped his whiskey and stood up. “I’ll walk you home.”

You felt a lightness in your chest warm you up more than the fireplace in the diner. “It’s okay. I’ve got Addie with me.”

Addie slapped your hand lightly, and when you looked at her with confusion she simply looked back at you pointedly. “Well, it’s pretty dark out, so it wouldn’t hurt to have someone else with us.”

“I just wouldn’t want to bother you, Joel,” you said softly.

Joel grumbled. “Nonsense. Consider it repayment for the first free drink.”

“Oh, alright,” you relented. “Let me just grab my bag.”

It was almost funny to watch a man as rough and scarred as Joel walk through town with two chattering, gossiping women. He was silent for the whole walk, but you knew he was listening intently. He’d shake his head with disappointment when Addie talked about Jace’s affair, and the anger and judgement that Jace had when Addie finally confronted him. You couldn’t help but smile when his body gave away his thoughts.

Unbeknownst to you, Joel’s eyes would occasionally flutter towards you, watching your face contort in between expressions of disbelief and annoyance at Jace. He held back a smile. There was something about how much you cared, how invested you were, that just made you such a warm, firey person. It was as if you could melt the snow falling on Jackson with merely your presence.

Joel had never liked the snow. Whenever it was cold outside, he found himself huddled near the fire.

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ

You were somewhat surprised when Joel stayed until the diner was closing and then offered to walk you home again.

“Joel,” you muttered. “You’ve already repaid me for the free drink with that one walk. And I’d really rather not bother you.

“You aren’t bothering me, sweetheart. If anything, consider this walk a repayment from you for me stopping Bill.” Joel put down his glass of whiskey, and you grabbed it to quickly wipe it down. “I could use the walk anyway. Ellie, my daughter,” he began, with a slight break in his voice. “She’s been coming back home a little later than I’m used to, and I’d rather not sit in my rocking chair on the porch waiting for her.”

You chuckled. “I didn’t know you had a daughter,” you said, grabbing your bag from underneath the bar cabinet. “How old is she?” you questioned while walking out from behind the counter.

“She’s a 14-year-old little rug rat, my Elllie,” he said, walking next to you as you both made your way out of the diner.

The cold, frigid air of Jackson hit the both of you. Small clouds of fog form in front of your nose and mouth as you make slightly ragged breaths, walking uphill on a path through Jackson. Your cabin wasn’t more than a five-minute walk from the diner, but it was still nestled away from the town center enough to have some semblance of privacy.

You laughed at the idea of Joel with a teenage daughter. “You should bring her around the diner. I don’t mind convincing the cook to slip Ellie a few snacks. I don’t want to brag or anything, but Allysa loves me and I’m sure it wouldn’t be much of a bother.”

Joel crossed his arms and shivered slightly. “I’ll tell her. She’d love to meet you. She’s a little chirpier than I am, so you’d both get along great.”

You took a glance at him. He had his eyes trained on the snow covered path, a slight frown on his face. You were overcome with the urge to say anything to wipe that frown off his face, to replace it with a smile, or even his usual flat lined mouth. “Aw, Miller. You’re not so bad.”

Joel smirked. “That’s high praise, sweetheart.”

Your heart fluttered slightly, and you tried your hardest to ignore it. “So. Who’s the lucky lady?”

“Huh?” Joel looked up at you, confused. “Oh. There’s none. I practically adopted Ellie, although Tommy insists she adopted me. But whatever way you wanna see it, no woman was involved in the process.” He paused. “I mean, other than Ellie herself, but to me she’s just a little girl-”

You interrupted him with your laughter. It was so strong you crossed your free hand under your stomach, trying to contain yourself. “Sorry,” you said through your laughter. “I just never thought I’d see you ramble like that.” Not married, huh.

Even in the dark, you could see Joel blush. He wiped his finger on the bridge of his door, looking down with nervousness. “Well, don’t go around tellin’ everyone. I kinda like being the grumpy traveler.”

“You’re such a softie, Miller.”

Both you and Joel stopped in front of the steps that led to your front porch. You had garden beds lining the front wall, but the snow had killed the plants that had taken root in the dirt. It was one of the few things you hated about Jackson; you had to say goodbye to your plants every nine months. Few pretty flowers survived the winter.

Joel sighed, a large cloud of breath forming in front of his face and dissipating as soon as it came. “So,” he said, rocking on his heels. “See you tomorrow?”

You smiled. “I’ll have your whiskey ready, Miller.”

Neither of you moved. The wind blew, making you both shiver slightly, and you started climbing up the steps to your porch. “Actually, do you want to come inside?” you asked. “I could put on a cup of hot tea that you could walk back with. And I probably have one of my dad’s coats you could borrow.”

Behind you, you heard Joel’s shoes making patterns in the snow. “I guess Ellie won’t be back for a while still.” The wood of your front porch steps creaked along with the smile on your face. You could feel his presence behind you, heavy but soft, smelling of whiskey and pine and a hint of smoke. The fast beat of your heart echoed in your ears.

You grabbed your keys from your bag with shaky hands and opened your front door. Both you and Joel walked in, stomping off the snow that accumulated on your boots onto the welcome mat. “Sorry if it’s messy,” you say, flipping on the light switch. “I wasn’t planning for company.”

Joel grunted, walking past you to take in the living room. It wasn’t much, but you liked to think you filled your cabin some life.

There, in the center of the room, was a worn couch that had resided in your parent’s house before you moved out here. In front of the couch was the coffee table you’d painstakingly made by chopping the wood and making it from scratch. The dining table and chairs had been taken from Addie’s cabin after she obtained a better table. It wasn’t picturesque; it was bits and pieces of your life throughout the decades. A mosaic, just like Jackson.

“You’re welcome to sit,” you said, throwing your bag onto the corner of your couch as you did every day. “I’ll just put some tea on.”

Walking towards the far end of the living room, where the kitchen resided, you picked up your kettle and filled it with water. Joel sat on the couch, stroking the worn cloth. “It’s a pretty old couch,” he remarked quietly.

You chuckled while turning on the stove. “It used to be in my parent’s house,” you said. “He gifted it to me a long time ago.”

“Thank you, by the way,” said Joel. “For the tea. You didn’t really have to.”

“Come on, Miller. I’ve been serving you some kind of drink every day now. It’s our thing,” you teased. You were pleased when he laughed heartily. He’s more himself when we’re alone, you noted. I like it.

You both let yourself sit in silence, waiting for the kettle to whistle. As you made some peppermint tea- the only kind you had at the moment- your eyes kept flickering over to Joel. He kept noticing little tidbits throughout your living room.

His fingers stroked the stitched cut on the couch with an amused smirk on his face. “How’d this happen?”

“I think I was seven? I was really into knitting, but I overestimated how much damage a knitting needle could do. I think I got mad that I kept fucking up, and I just stabbed the couch.” You laughed. “My dad took one look at it and chuckled. He said it was cute how much I cared.”

You brought the mugs of tea over to the coffee table, setting them down. “I hope it’s not too bad. Serving alcohol doesn’t involve a lot of steps.”

Joel chuckled. “I can imagine you with knitting needles, just throwing a little mini tantrum over a blanket.”

You rolled your eyes. “Now I hope that tea is shitty.” You sat down on the couch, sitting right next to Joel even though there was ample room next to you. “And, for your information, I’m pretty good at knitting. That blanket right here,” you said, pointing to the blanket haphazardly laid on the arm of your couch, “is purely a y/n production.”

Joel touched the blanket with his fingers, poking at the small holes. “You did a good job,” he said. Something in your stomach stirred at the praise, but you carefully tucked it away. No need to get any hopes up, you thought.

Humming, you picked up your mug and blew at the tea slightly. “Thanks, Miller.”

“Why do you call me Miller?” Joel asked. “Why don’t you call me Joel?”

You tilted your head. He noticed. “I call you Joel sometimes.” I didn’t know he’d notice things about me.

He waved his hand dismissively. “You’ve called me Joel exactly twice.”

You didn’t know to tell him that calling him his first name felt like an intimate gesture to you, how you couldn’t imagine saying his name without the weight in your heart you felt every time he came into the diner. With every second he spent near you, that weight grew slowly but surely, and you didn’t know what to do with it.

You thought he was married. Turns out he’s not. That weight in your heart starts feeling more like it belongs there, replacing the initial shame you felt for your soft spot. Shame that you tried to overcome by calling him Miller.

How do you tell a man that?

You shrugged. “I don’t know. I call Tommy, Miller too. I guess I figured the tradition should continue between brothers? I really don’t know.”

Joel looked at you, his brown eyes looking like a cloudy river. You so desperately wanted to see through to the bottom. “Call me Joel when it’s just us,” he said.

You took a sip of your tea. “Of course, Joel.”

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he said, reaching for his mug. “Look at us, getting along. And Tommy said I couldn’t be pleasant.”

You chuckled before you remembered the time. “Oh my god. I was supposed to grab you a coat.” You stood up quickly, walking to the wardrobe behind your dining table, muttering, “I’d hate for you to miss Ellie coming home.”

“It’s okay, sweetheart, there’s no reason to worry. I live two minutes away, I’ll be fine,” Joel said from the couch in a reassuring voice. It was as if his rough voice smoothed slightly around the edges. He spoke in long, legato lines instead of his regular staccato responses, and you couldn’t help the sigh of relief that escaped your mouth as you hunted for your dad’s coat.

“Still, Joel,” you said, reveling in the privilege of saying his name. “Ellie comes first.” You grabbed your dad’s wool coat and folded it over your arm, bringing it to Joel. “You can keep this if you want,” you told him. “I never really have a use for it.”

You felt the warmth of Joel’s hand against your arm for just a moment as he grabbed the coat from you. You barely heard him saying “thank you.” It was as if his voice had been muddled by some kind of blurry screen.

Your brain turns into a crush-riddled caveman. Warm, you think. Rough. But gentle.

“No problem,” you say hoarsely. “Anything for you, Joel.”

As he leaves, you let the shape of his name coat your lips, playing with it in your cheek, letting it take its place.

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ

“Is your name y/n?” you hear a young voice ask behind you.

You spin around, eyeing the young girl with confusion. “Yeah, what can I do for you?” You smoothed down your shirt.

The young girl broke out into a smile and pointed at herself. “My name’s Ellie. Joel told me to stop by.”

You broke out into a smile, extending a hand out over the bar countertop. “It’s nice to meet you, Ellie.” She shook your hand enthusiastically, smiling from ear to ear. “Let me go back and tell the cook to make you some food. She’s making some tomato and mozzarella sandwiches right now, is that okay?”

“Oh fuck yeah,” she said. “I’ll take anything.”

You chuckled. “Your dad was right, you’re one chipper girl.”

She seemed to take pause. “He called me his daughter?”

Rambling, you shook your head frantically out of nervousness. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know that it wasn’t-” Oh god, I ruined everything.

“No, you’re good, don’t worry. I just…” she trailed out. “He’s not a man of many words, ya know? I mean I’m sure you know- he doesn’t exactly scream ‘literate,’ but still. I know he cares, but sometimes it’s nice to hear it.”

You grinned, relieved. Reaching out to touch her shoulder lightly, you reassured her, saying “Aw, honey, Joel loves you more than anything. It’s so obvious to everyone that it’s insane. Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it, alright?”

Ellie’s eyes lit up. You told her you’d disappear for a second to tell Allysa to set aside an extra sandwich, and when you made it back, Ellie was sitting at the bar, leaning her head in her hands, staring at the alcohol bottles. Like father, like daughter, you supposed.

“The sandwich should be out soon, alright honey?” you said gently.

“Are you from Texas too? You sound a little like Joel,” Ellie joked.

You nodded. “I’m from San Antonio,” you revealed. “Actually, I wasn’t too far from where your old man Miller grew up. Maybe an hour's drive? I’m not sure anymore, it’s been a while since I was there.”

Allyssa brought out Ellie’s sandwich, setting it on the bar countertop. “Enjoy it, alright sweetie?” she said to Ellie. “I put a little extra cheese on yours.”

Ellie said thank you and dug into her sandwich, but unlike her father, she kept the conversation going. “I’ve been tryna convince Joel to go back to Austin, but he turns into this pain in the ass whenever I bring it up,” she said. “I’ll get him to go there eventually. If I annoy him enough, he caves.”

You chuckle. “Why doesn’t he wanna go? It seems like he misses it.”

“He’s had a hard life,” Ellie said protectively. “He’s been through some shit in Austin. I guess he just doesn’t wanna visit it again.”

You hummed. “I get that,” you said, sighing. “Anyway. How long are y’all staying in Jackson?”

Ellie shrugged. “It was supposed to be a few days, but I really like it here. There’s only so much traveling you can do before you get sick of not having a home, you know? Besides, I don’t think Joel wants to leave either.” She took another bite of her sandwich. “He keeps saying he’s gonna leave but he doesn’t pull the trigger,” she said, her voice muffled with her sandwich.

You reached under the bar cabinet and wordlessly handed her a napkin, which she took graciously. “I told him he’d get sucked into Jackson. It’s too cozy.”

“It really is. I’ve made friends! I went to go study with one of them the other night,” Ellie said, practically jumping up and down. “I hope Joel never wants to leave.”

Me too, you thought.

You and Ellie kept talking about her life in Jackson, her school, the hobbies she’s picked up. You chuckled when she told you that she picked up archery. “I really like pointy things,” she said. “Bonus if they can kill someone.”

You laughed. “When I was your age, I was obsessed with fencing. My dad signed me up for a class and everything, even though my mom said no. He’d take me in secret. He told me he was proud that if someone broke into the house, his daughter could protect him,” you told Ellie, laughing lightly. “He’d love you.”

“He sounds fucking awesome,” Ellie remarked.

He was, you thought.

The joy in her eyes filled with more warmth than you thought possible. You had the urge to stroke her cheek, get her more food, and walk her home- anything to keep those eyes full of light.

While Ellie was pattering about an embarrassing story of her and Joel on the road, she brushed some crumbs off of her fingers onto the plate. Your eyes involuntarily flickered down to the movement. You saw a few, parallel, thin scars underneath her wrist, just barely covered by the fold of her elbow. Something in your heart tightened to the point of pain, and you couldn’t bear to look Ellie in the eye for a little while.

You found yourself looking down at the bar counter, hoping Ellie didn’t notice what you’d just observed. Counting the number of scars, you branded the number in your mind. Nine.

You’d go insane if you found a tenth in the future.

Keeping up a normal pretense, you both chatted until the lunch rush hour entered, prompting Ellie to push her plate towards you and stand. “I should probably head out and let you get back to your job,” she said. “But we should do this again.”

You grinned from ear to ear. “You’re welcome anytime, honey.” You lightly grabbed her hand with both of yours. “Be careful with archery, okay? I don’t wanna see any major injuries,” you said, a slight motherly tilt in your voice.

Ellie put her other hand around yours and squeezed lightly. “I won’t, I promise.”

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ

Joel stopped by the diner a few days later. He came in later than usual- almost five minutes before closing- and sat down in his barstool, panting lightly as he sat.

You had been wiping down the counter when his presence made itself known. “Are you okay, Joel?” you asked. “Let me get you a glass of water.” You were grateful that the diner was completely barren, with even Allysa having gone home, leaving just you and Joel in the space. Your heart would have broken if Joel was seen in such a vulnerable state by people who didn’t understand him.

Please let me help, you thought. Don’t be all tough around me.

Pouring him an ice-cold glass of water, you decided to walk around the counter and sit next to him instead of your usual position. “Joel?” you questioned him again.

He didn’t respond, opting to gulp down the whole glass of water. “Just gimme a minute.”

You nodded. Joel was shaking slightly, and you slowly decided to stroke his arm gently- up and down, feeling the wrinkles that formed on his flannel from the motion. Under different circumstances, you might have lept with glee at the realization that Joel didn’t move when you touched him; in fact, he leaned into your hand. “You’re okay, Joel,” you reminded him. “I’m here.” You kept repeating reassuring phrases as he calmed himself down.

Eventually, he put his hand over yours, stopping it from its repetitive motion. “M’sorry,” he said. Before you could interrupt him to insist that there was nothing to be sorry about, he continued on. “Just had to come see you.”

You reached out to touch the area between his shoulder and his neck lightly. “Please don’t be sorry. I’d rather see you in front of me than know that this happens when I can’t help.”

Joel’s head hung down low and he groaned, seeming tired from his day’s events. “I just don’t wanna be a bother, but nothing else was helping.”

You toed with the intimate line between the two of you, desperately wanting to outright cross it but refusing to do so without his indication. It was frustrating, this dance. But the last thing you wanted Joel to feel around you was uncomfortable, so instead of cupping his cheek the way your fingers were itching to, you simply moved your hands down and gripped his hands lightly. “You’re not a bother, Joel. You’re never a bother. You’re practically the highlight of my day.” You paused. “Is that what this is about? Do you think I- sorry we- don’t want you?”

Joel tilted his head. “Part of it, I guess.” He sighed heavily. “Is it okay if we go back to your place? Ellie’s got a slumber party so I don’t really got anyone waitin’ on me.” He wiped his face. “Only if you wanna, of course,” he added, rushed.

“Nonsense, Joel. You’re always welcome over.” And with that, you both set out on your daily walk- except this time no words were exchanged.

You’d glance over to the man next to you, your heart dropping whenever he moved out of the ordinary. He scratched his beard. Beat. He cracked his knuckles. Beat. He almost tripped. Beat. Such a contrast to the careful, meticulously observant man you had come to know.

“Joel,” you whispered to him when you’d arrived in front of your porch. “Will you tell me what’s going on?”

You both walked inside, and Joel immediately walked over and slumped onto your couch. “Today’s my daughter’s birthday,” he revealed.

“Oh,” you said, confused. “I didn’t know it was Ellie’s birthday.”

Joel shook his head. “My other daughter. Sarah.”

You made your way next to Joel, sensing the sensitive subject he was going to reveal to you. “What happened with Sarah?”

Joel’s eyes closed, and he leaned his head back, his eyelids scrunched in a phantom pain you wish you could’ve waived away with your hands. “She passed away, a few years back. Drunk driving accident.” He breathed deeply. “It’s why I ended up here, I guess. Just couldn’t bear to go back home when she- she,” his voice broke.

Fuck the line between us, you thought. You engulfed him in a hug, his large frame serving as a strong structure for you to lay your head against. “It’s okay,” you said lightly. “You don’t have to finish that sentence.”

He’s shaking, you noticed with tears lining your eyes. My Joel is shaking.

“She was everything to me. She was the only thing that mattered to me before Ellie, y’know? I’d do anything just to see her smile again,” he revealed. “Anything.”

You let a tear fall, staining Joel’s flannel a deep, dark color. “I’m so sorry, Joel.” You stroked his back over and over again, letting Joel rest against you.

“I kept wandering from city to city, afterward,” he revealed. “Didn’t really stay for longer than a week. And then I met Ellie. Her parents threw her out and she had nowhere to go. She’s so much like Sarah that it scared me, and I gave Ellie a bit of a hard time cause of it.” He took in a breath. “They’re both pieces of my soul, Sarah and Ellie. I’m like half a man.”

His head moved to the crook of your neck, and you felt the warmth of his deep breaths against your skin. Greedily, you let your hand drift to his hair, toying with it lightly. “Take your time, Joel,” you whispered. “I’m here.”

Joel hummed against your neck, and you felt the vibrations leave goosebumps in their wake. “Thank you,” he said. “For being here.”

You didn’t know how to tell him that it was a privilege to hold him up, so you simply left a light kiss on his temple. “I know how you feel, a little,” you revealed. “My dad died a few years ago. Lung cancer. It felt like I’d lost a part of me.” You took in a deep breath. “Sometimes I still feel like he’s around, kind of like a phantom limb that I can’t use. It honestly hurts more when that happens. It just reminds me of all the love that I lost.

“But then I remember that losing that love just meant I had it at some point in my life. I had the best father the world could have ever given me. He made me who I am, and I try to remember that. Sarah had so much love in her life,” you said, placing a gentle palm against the side of his face. “She had you. You did for her what my father did for me. I know it’s not much, and nothing can bring her back, but even if this means nothing, you need to know that she loved you more than I can possibly express.”

You felt cold, wet circles fall onto your neck like the light pitter-patter of rain. Kissing Joel’s temple again, you whispered, “She made you who you are. That’s more evidence that she’ll always be with you.”

You heard Joel whimper lightly before the floodgates opened. “Oh, baby,” you said sympathetically. “Let it out. Let it all out.”

You and Joel sat there on the couch, lumped together in a tight embrace, for what felt like hours. And, when Joel had finally let out every tear that he had in him, he finally lifted his head out of the crevice between your neck and shoulder and looked at you with his puffy eyes.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” Joel said, his voice slightly nasally. “I didn’t mean to-”

“If you complete that sentence, I’ll slap you so hard you’ll see stars, alright? That’s what friends are for,” you told him, internally cringing at the word friends.

Joel’s head tilted. “Friends?” he asked. “I don’t know if friends do what we do, sweetheart.”

You were suddenly very aware that almost every part of yours and Joel’s upper bodies were practically glued together. You were looking up at him, your breath bouncing off of Joel’s chin, his scruff occasionally tickling your cheekbone when one of you moved slightly.

You hesitated. After what Joel had just told you, was tonight really the best time to toe the line? “Joel, I don’t want to do anything you’d regret. Not when you’re in this state of mind.”

He nodded, understanding. “I’d agree with you if I hadn’t felt like this for weeks,” he said. “It’s hard for me to not feel like this, not when I hear Ellie raving about you after she visited. Not when you look as breathtaking as you did that first day that I saw you, serving me a glass of free whiskey like I was worth a damn.” He leaned his forehead against yours. “I’ve done nothing for you, absolutely nothing, and yet you’ve given me everything you can. You laugh at my jokes even when they’re not funny, you make me tea just so I don’t walk home cold.”

Joel sighed, his breath hugging your face in a warm blanket. “All these weeks, I came every day just to see you. It infuriated me sometimes, knowing that you had no idea the effect you had on me. As if you didn’t know how my eyes were practically glued to you when you weren’t looking.”

Your eyes closed. “Look at me,” he urged. You pulled back, looking him in the eye. “Do you really think I don’t like you? The only thing keeping me in Jackson is you.”

You looked down at yours and Joel’s now joined hands. “Joel…”

“Sweetheart,” he echoed.

You looked back up at him. “I don’t know what to say.”

Joel’s palm moved up to cup your face. “It’s okay, sweetheart. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

Every reason why Joel shouldn’t be with you flashed through your mind. You’re too clingy. You talk too much. You freak out over small things. You don’t know how to let things go. You’ll burden him. You’ll force him to stay where there’s snow, even though he hates it.

But when you look at Joel, a selfish part of you doesn’t care. You don’t care that this could blow up in your face, the way every other relationship of yours had.

“Fuck it,” you whisper to yourself before you let your lips touch Joel’s. His hand comes to the back of your head, locking you in place while he patiently explores the curve of your lips, the slight noise you make when he really focuses on your lower lip. Your hands make their way around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer. More, more, more, you thought.

You pull apart but neither of you stray far, with Joel’s forehead leaning against yours. “Still think we’re just friends, sweetheart?” he asked you.

Chuckling, you left a peck on his lips. “The bestest friends.”

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ

Joel didn’t leave your cabin that night, instead opting to sleep on the couch with your knitted blanket. You protested heavily, insisting that there was space in your bed for him to rest, but he met every single plea with a simple answer: “I’m a little old-fashioned, sweetheart.”

Awaking the next morning, you smiled before pulling away your blankets faster than you ever had before so you could greet the man resting on your couch downstairs. You expected to find a man-shaped lump on your couch, but instead, you were greeted with the smell of pancakes and eggs, and the slightly chaotic sounds that was Joel Miller attempting to cook.

You chuckled lightly to yourself. Who thought this rugged man would wake up early to make pancakes? you thought. “Good morning, Joel.”

Joel turned around from the stove, clad in an unbuttoned red flannel and jeans. He looked picturesque in this light, the morning rays of sunshine hitting his skin just right. His hair looked a shade lighter than usual through the sunlight. You let your eyes wander to his chest, going lower, and lower, and-

“Mornin’ sweetheart,” he said. “I hope you don’t mind me fiddling around here. Just wanted to make you breakfast as a thank you for last night.”

Walking towards Joel, you crossed your arms. “What did I say about that? There’s no reason to thank me, and there’s no reason to say sorry.” You paused only to wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling yourself closer to him. Joel’s arms snaked around your waist tightly. If you never moved from this position, you’d consider it an upgrade from your life. “But, since I like pancakes, I’ll overlook it just this once.”

Joel chuckled and grinned. “Aren’t you selfless,” he murmured, bringing his face closer to yours.

“Hmm, I am-”

Joel stopped you from finishing your sentence with his lips, softly caressing your tongue with his. Unlike last night, he took his time when kissing you, moving in slow, languid movements- like he had all the time in the world, or if he didn’t have time then he just didn’t care.

He pulled away and you couldn’t stop yourself from letting out a small intake of breath. Joel smirked. “So is this what gets you to stop talking, huh?”

You rolled your eyes and slapped his shoulder. “So you want me to stop talking?” you asked him, jest in your voice.

Joel tilted his head and let out a light chuckle, his scruff scratching your forehead with the movement. “You know I didn’t mean it.”

“I know,” you said, slight reverence in your voice.

Joel let you go, grabbing the spatula he’d taken out of your drawer and he went to flip a pancake that lay on your pan. “I hope you like chocolate chip. It’s Ellie’s favorite.”

You hugged Joel from behind. “I’d love that, Joel.”

And so you spent breakfast with Joel, eating chocolate chip pancakes at your dining table like you were kids again. For the first time in a while, you let yourself drench your pancakes in maple syrup. You and Joel chatted about your lives: Joel about his trip from Austin to Jackson, the weird errands he’d run to earn money fast- and you about life after your father’s death, how you decided you’d live in a small town full of snow purely because your father despised the sweltering hot weather of Texas.

You found it refreshing, that you and Joel could now talk freely. It was like that kiss last night had unlocked something in him. You found that you didn’t mind this change.

* (smut below)

Putting the dishes in the sink, Joel cleared his throat. “Do you have anywhere you need to be?”

You shook your head. “It’s my day off. Do you know when Ellie is going to be back home?”

“Oh, she won’t be back for a while. That little shit loves to push how long she can stay out.” Joel walked up to where you stood near the sink, rinsing the maple syrup patches off of your plates. “Which works out great for us.”

You grabbed Joel’s arms loosely with your hands, reveling in the feel of his muscles underneath his skin, the veins that would occasionally stick out on his skin. “It truly does,” you said slyly. “What are you planning, Miller?”

He wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling your small frame towards his, and you gasped lightly at the feeling of your lower stomach being glued to his body. “Not much,” he murmured. He grabbed your chin with his fingers. “Nothing important.”

“Hmm, I’m sure,” you said, inching your face closer to his. “Joel?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

Your eyes flickered closed. “How flexible are you when it comes to being traditional?” you asked him, slightly breathless.

His lips brushed against yours as he answered, “Right now? Tradition is the last thing on my mind,” he said, punctuation his point by letting his hands wander to the patch of skin between your back and your ass. He placed a short, chaste kiss on your lips. “But I won’t do anything unless you say.”

Your breaths mingled with each other's, and you swore your heartbeat had never been faster. “Please,” you asked.

“Please what?” he retorted calmly.

You almost whined with disappointment. “You know what I’m asking, Joel.”

Joel pulled back a little, and you couldn’t stop the slight whine that left your mouth. “I’m gonna need you to spell it out for me.”

“Just fuck me,” you said breathlessly.

Joel smirked before grabbing your face and kissing you, a smile present on his lips the whole time. An arrogant smile. Damn that bastard.

He pulled away from your lips momentarily to began skimming your cheek, your jaw, your neck. He paid special attention there once he heard the obscene moan that left you when he sucked at just the right spot, leaving a bright reddish-purple mark in its place. “Joel,” you breathed.

“I love it when you say my name,” he whispered into your neck. “No one says it like you.” His hands started wandering to the bottom of your pajama shirt, slipping underneath to softly begin the upward climb to your breasts. “No bra, huh?” he questioned, palming your breast.

“Didn’t uh,” you started between gasps. “Didn’t think I needed one. Sorry if that was-” You were interrupted by Joel’s mouth on yours, sucking lightly on your lower lip making you moan loudly.

“Don’t you dare apologize,” he said. “I’d sooner shoot myself in the leg than tell you to wear a bra around me.”

You laughed, and he cupped your face with his other hand. “So beautiful,” he murmured. “So mine.” He went back to paying attention to your breasts, skimming his finger lightly over your hardened nipples. You saw the effect his exploration had on him; or, rather, felt the effect, as his crotch was pressing tightly against your stomach.

Grabbing the hem of your shirt, you pulled the shirt over your head, leaving you topless in front of Joel. His hands froze, eyes skimming over your body. Feeling brave, you smirked and said, “You gonna do something, Miller?”

“Aren’t you mouthy,” he said, sarcasm evident in his voice. “I’ll take care of that soon.” With that, he guided you to your upstairs bedroom, throwing his flannel off on the way. You couldn’t help but admire the slight back muscles Joel had. There was almost no imperfection with this man.

When you reached your bedroom, Joel grabbed you by your shoulders and swiftly through you on your bed. Your cheap mattress squeaked lightly, and you laughed against your floral bedsheets. “I’ve thought about this so much,” he revealed, tearing down your shorts. He knelt on your floor, eye to eye with your panties, and you hoped there wasn’t a telltale dark spot on the fabric that would give away just how ready you were to fuck this man. “Ever since that first time I walked into the diner.”

You writhed slightly under his stare. “Joel, please just fuck me,” you begged lightly. “I’m not feeling very patient.”

You heard him chuckle and then felt his arm push down onto your lower stomach, keeping you in place. “But I am,” he said. He touched the center of your panties, forcing a gasp out of you. He chuckled again. “So needy.” He pulled your panties aside, finding you wet and glistening. Without warning, he licked a stripe up your pussy, making you let out a languid moan. “Best fucking breakfast I’ve had in years,” he proclaimed, pulling your panties off your legs.

Joel kneads your thighs as he continues licking and occasionally sucking at your clit, and you reveled in the filthy sounds made by your wetness. He lazily keeps stroking your pussy with his tongue, letting his tongue slowly explore every crevice and find every sensitive point that ushered out the loudest whines.

“Oh, god,” you sighed. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop!”

He flicked his tongue against your clit over and over again, stopping only to suck and lick and hum into your pussy. The vibrations keep pushing you closer and closer to the edge. And then you felt his fingers lightly tracing your lips before he stuck one finger in, curling it rapidly. “More,” you begged. “Fuck, please Joel- Oh!”

He added in a second finger, curling them both against that sensitive spot inside you that made you see stars, all while his tongue played with your clit. It was almost too much, all the sensations combined, and you were glad that Joel still had a hand holding your stomach down because your back started arching. “I'm so close, oh god, keep going!”

Joel’s resolve never wavered. Your moans gave him more than enough fuel to keep curling, keep licking, keep pleasuring you to the point of tears. He opened his eyes and looked at you from between your legs, and the sinful sight of that beautiful man feasting on you sent you over the edge. His tongue helped you ride out your orgasm whilst you moaned and shook and said his name over and over, Joel, Joel, Joel!

When he finally lifted his head and started climbing over you, he had a wicked smile on his face. “You’re even prettier when you come apart on my tongue, sweetheart.” His rough voice caressed your body as he made his way up to kiss you. You could taste yourself on him, but that just spurred you on.

“It’s not fair that you’re still wearing pants,” you remarked.

“Then do something about it,” he replied. You smiled and let your hand slowly make its way down to his pants, lightly stroking his chest on the way down. You reached his zipper and palmed his cock through his trousers, making him hiss. “Don’t be a tease. I’ll make you regret it next time.”

“Oh,” you started. “So there’s going to be a next time? Someone’s confident,” you remarked while you unzipped his pants.

Joel stood up and kicked his pants off as fast as he could. “I’ll fuck that attitude out of you soon enough, sweetheart.”

You grinned. “I’m waiting.” You made your way towards the middle of your bed, making yourself comfortable amongst the pillows. Your mouth almost frothed at the sight before you: a naked Joel Miller, cock slapped against his stomach, girthy and slightly red with need.

“Someone’s staring,” Joel remarked, joining you on your bed.

“Do you blame me?” you asked. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders as he settled on top of you, his cock so close to where you needed him most. “You’re perfect.”

He cupped your face. “You’re one to talk,” he retorted. He shifted his hips slightly, groaning when some of your wetness got on the tip of his dick. “If I do anything you don’t like, just tap me three times on my arm, okay?” he said, sweetly. “And I’ll stop the second you do that.”

You nodded. “I trust you, Joel.”

He leaned down and kissed you, slowly, lovingly, softly. Such a contrast to how he handled you earlier. It almost made tears come to your eyes. This man, who looked so rough on the surface, had the softest heart you’d ever known.

Pulling away from your lips, he led his dick right to your entrance. “Now,” he said, jest in his voice. “Back to the fun stuff.” He slowly thrust into you, both of you gasping at the sensation. “Fuck, even your pussy is perfect,” he praised.

“Oh,” you moaned out when he bottomed out. He stayed there for a little, letting you adjust, but you could see the restraint it took in the way his body shook lightly. But you didn’t have much restraint either, and so you looked at him and said, “Fuck me like you mean it, Miller.”

You saw the gleam in his eyes and then it was over for you. He set a harsh, fast pace, the sound of your thighs slapping together filling your room along with your moans and his groans. “Such a good girl for me,” he said, punctuating each word with a thrust. “So fucking good.”

He pulled out only to move you slightly on your side and then lift your leg over his shoulder, allowing him to spread you out even more than before. He pushed in and you almost screamed with pleasure. “Fuck,” you moaned, trailing out the word. Joel cut you off by grabbing your neck with his hand, applying slight pressure, and choking you.

“There we go,” he cooed, thrusting into you hard. “See? See how it works out for you when you don’t give me attitude?” You interrupted him with a loud moan. “Such a beautiful, fucked out little slut.”

“I’m so close, Joel,” you said lightly, your eyes rolling back into your head. “Oh my god!”

Joel’s thrusts continued, sweat beading on his forehead. His grunts got louder and more breathy. “That’s it, just like that,” he said. “Gonna make you come around my cock, huh? That’s what you want?”

You nodded enthusiastically, whispering a somewhat breathy sounding “Please! I’m so close.”

“Do it,” he ordered you harshly. “Come for me. Come for me like the good little slut you are,” he said while putting more pressure around your neck, choking you harder. You came even harder than before, shaking and writhing around his cock, and Joel kept thrusting into you. You whined with overstimulation.

Joel’s thrusts started getting sloppy, and soon he groaned “I’m gonna come,” before pulling out of you and pumping himself harshly. He came on your lower stomach. And while he knelt on your bed, out of breath, his eyes couldn’t help but watch his come drip down your stomach a little. “One day,” he began, “I’m going to fuck a baby into you.”

You propped yourself up on your elbows. “I’ll be counting down the days.”

* (smut finished)

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ

Twelve months, two weeks, and four days later, you and Joel tied the knot. You had a small wedding in Jackson, with Tommy as Joel’s best man and Ellie as your maid of honor. Addie married the two of you, and you couldn’t be happier with your choice. She practically made you cry with her heartfelt speech, talking about the newfound friendship she had with Joel and how you had given her a brother she never had.

“You two are made for each other,” she had said.

Both you and Joel had written your own vows to each other. You had the papers you wrote your vows on framed in your bedroom, and occasionally you found yourself reading Joel’s handwriting and marveling at your luck. His vows were shorter than yours- he was a man of few words- but my god, did he write powerfully.

“I’ve been to so many cities in my lifetime. Nothing ever really convinced me to stay, but then I came to Jackson and I saw you in that diner, standing behind the bar like an angel. I still remember how you looked like you glowed under those lights. And for the first time in my life, I felt like I wanted to stay.

“Sometimes I wonder if I was wandering around aimlessly in my life from city to city, just looking for you. And now that I’ve found you, I don’t want to spend a single day without you.”

You’d bawled like anything that day. You had an amazing husband, a beautiful step daughter, and a wedding that your father would have approved of. You felt him in the air around you that day. While you and Joel had your first dance, you remember feeling like someone had placed your hand on your shoulder; but when you glanced, no one was there.

I love you, Dad, you had thought to yourself that day. I love you so much.

Now, while you glanced at your newly made wedding photo album, you felt the memories rush into you like a wave. It had only been a month since then. You still missed that day.

“Sweetheart,” you heard a voice say from downstairs. “Do we have any more boxes to pack?”

You smiled. Joel. “Just one more,” you yelled back. “I’ll be down in a little!”

You stroked the cover of your wedding album and put it gingerly at the top of a filled cardboard box. The sight of your now barren bedroom made tears begin to line your eyes, but your stomach danced with excitement for the future. Before you could start sobbing with nostalgia, you picked up your box and carried it down the stairs.

The creak of the stairs was music to your ears. It was a shame you wouldn’t hear it for a while.

Joel stood in the center of the living room, staring out the window while waiting for you. When he heard the telltale creak of the stairs, his head moved in your direction. “There you are,” he whispered. “Ellie’s sitting in the truck already.”

“Sorry, I was just caught up with all the memories of this place,” you responded apologetically. “It’s hard to say goodbye.”

Joel tucked you into his side, kissing the top of your head. “I know, sweetheart. We’ll be back eventually, I promise.”

You leaned your head against his shoulder. “I’m going to miss this place.”

“I will, too.”

You both relaxed for a few seconds before you heard a honk from the trunk. “Your daughter is getting impatient,” Joel said, laughing lightly.

“We should get going before she drives into the house,” you said teasingly. “Wouldn’t put it past her.”

You climbed down your front porch steps, going to the trunk of the green truck Joel had borrowed from Tommy. You placed the cardboard box in the back and pulled up the barrier. Well, this is it, you thought.

Austin, here we come.

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ

Tagged: @orcasoul

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller fluff #joel miller smut #joel miller angst #joel miller x you #the last of us

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builtaworldwithyourlove · 2 days

Text

I Forget Where We Were

1.4k/ joel miller x f!reader / MINORS DNI

summary: life with Joel from the start. Be kind please- this is my first piece and has taken 6 months of courage🤍

Chapter Five: She Treats Me Well

Now I’ve got a woman at home, she treats me well

what to expect: Sundays spent with the Millers. Joel officially asks you to be his girlfriend.

warnings: bad language i guess idk?😂fluff, dad!joel,lover boy joel, no specific physical description of reader, female reader (please let me know if there is anything I’m missing, I will elaborate as the series goes on) no outbreak, age gap (reader is mid 20s and Joel is mid 40s), boyfriend!joel? i repeat boyfriend!joel, slight daddy!kink, sooooo much fluff

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

After the best sleep of your life, you woke up intertwined with Joel. He was awake and watching the news on mute on his TV. You snuggled into the crook of his neck, and he dragged you on top of him.

‘Sleep well darlin’?’ his raspy voice turned you into putty, as he tucked your hair behind your ear and flipped you over onto you back.

He kissed you hungrily, before patting your thigh and jumping out of bed.

You whined as you held out your arms for him to join you again, and in the same second, Sarah ran through onto the bed like a tiny hurricane and snuggled into you.

‘I had the funniest dreams’ Sarah giggled. ‘Daddy played dress up with me and we turned him into a princess.’

‘I could just imagine him as pretty as a picture’ you giggled.

You burst into a fit laughter as

Joel wrapped the duvet round his hips and gave a twirl. ‘Now what do the real princesses want for breakfast?’

‘I need to get home and shower, should we head back to mine and we’ll eat there? I’ve got groceries to get through, and I know a certain curly haired baby would love to come and see where I live!’ You tickled Sarah and tilted your head at Joel. Sarah clambered across the bed and held onto Joel like a koala, you leaned forward into Joel’s hip.

‘Let’s get ready to go then Roo’ Roo was Joel’s nickname for Sarah, affectionately after the way she bounced round and round.

You made the bed, and went downstairs to clear the dishwasher and organise Joel’s house quickly.

Dressed in Joel’s joggers that sat low on your hips, and a tucked up gym top, you went to check on Sarah and Joel, and found Sarah in her unicorn backpack and bright pink tutu dress. Joel was dressed smart in black Jeans, a tightly fitting black flannel shirt and his silver watch sitting on his wrist, above his small hand tattoo. His curly hair was slicked back, and you could smell the heat of the hot shower mixed with his mint shower gel and toothpaste, and your favourite aftershave of his.

You stared a moment too long, when Sarah held your hips and shook you asking to go and see your house. Joel placed his fingers under your chin and picked your jaw up.

‘It’s rude to stare’ Joel lowered his voice and remarked gruffly into your ear.

You swallowed dryly, and averted your gaze as you tried to distract yourself by gathering the Miller’s out the house back to your place.

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

You let Sarah have full access to your apartment, and she went straight to the flowers growing on your balcony. Joel stood in the french doors, his silhouette distracting you. He sipped his black coffee from your ridiculously oversized pastel pink mug, when he crouched down to let Sarah whisper in his ear. He crouched down and nodded, then looked at you and smiled. He looked back at Sarah ‘Yes I’ll ask her later baby’. You were itching to find out what Sarah whispered, but had a pretty good idea.

You laid breakfast out for everyone, and watched with adoration as your small apartment now felt like home. The idea of having Joel’s babies crept into your mind. What would that be like? Heaven, you thought.

After breakfast was finished, you let Sarah pick her favourite Disney film and hopped in the shower and got ready for the day.

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

‘What are we doing today then?’ You entered the room. Sarah was on the balcony with an orange juice, flicking through an old book of yours. You chuckled at her, and Joel turned around and pulled you in. His hands held your hips, and you felt his huge arms envelope you.

‘I want to go to the arcades’ Sarah squealed with her hands in the air.

‘Ask nicely!’ Joel said sternly.

Sarah looked over at you and said please as many times as she could.

‘Arcades it is then, Miss Miller’ Joel agreed, ‘You up for it, darling?’

‘I can’t think of anything else I’d rather do, Mr Miller’you grinned at Sarah.

Joel grunted and gave you ‘that look’.

‘Will you paint my nails for me first’ Sarah asked, bouncing around like a Duracell Bunny.

‘Absolutely baby. I’ll send Daddy on a mission to the store and we’ll finish getting ready’ you asked, emphasis on the eye contact with Joel when you said Daddy.

He clenched his fist and banged it on the counter jokingly, and asked you to write a list. You conspired with Sarah and gave Joel a list:

-Sour Patch Kids

-Milk

-Sourdough Loaf

-Bottle of Rosé

-More Sour Patch Kids

-Reese’s Pieces

-Dr Pepper Zero

He scoffed at the list, and warned against the excessive sugar content. You assured him it’d be a sugar crash by night time, and that’s why you wanted sugar free Dr Pepper- to compensate!

You and Sarah ran to your vanity and Joel went to the store.

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

The heat scorched, as you found relief under the air con in the arcades. Sarah had stuffed teddies bigger than her, and your purse was

full of pointless prizes from arcade machines. Joel carried the tokens.

Sarah asked for an ice cream and a final go on the dance machine.

You and Joel sat next to eachother waiting to take Sarah home.

‘Do you still love me?’ Joel nudged you.

‘From the moment I met you’ you squeezed his thigh.

‘Will you be my girlfriend? I’m not sure people ask anymore, but I’ve been waiting for this moment all my life.’ Joel blushed and you kissed him.

‘How could I ever say no?’ You scrunched your nose up and held his hand, ‘I love you, Mr Miller.’

Sarah sprinted over yelling ‘I want to go home.’ You envied the abruptness that kids could get away with. You wouldn’t be able to shout I want to leave in your office job and have people find you funny and endearing.

You all held hands and headed back to the truck.

‘Are you and Daddy having another sleepover tonight?’ Sarah fluttered her eyelashes and didn’t want you to leave.

‘No babygirl, I’ve got to work tomorrow’ it wasn’t clear who was more disappointed at your answer out of Joel and Sarah. They both shared the same gooey puppy dog eyes.

‘How about we go and pick her up from work tomorrow? You can finish school, Daddy will come and get you, and then we’ll head there’ Joel was desperate to keep you all for him and Sarah, and would do anything to be with you every second of every day.

‘You’ve got yourself a deal, Mr Miller. I’ll see you tomorrow night Roo’ you kissed Sarah’s forehead and she twirled around you and climbing into the backseat.

Joel was left listening to the sound of you both softly snoring on the drive home, clearly reaching that sugar crash you talked about.

His heart swelled, and he thanked his lucky stars. Both of his girls.

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

Joel dropped you home and tried to wake you without making you grouchy. You tried to not be sad and keep in high spirits for Sarah and Joel. Even though you’d see them in less than 24 hours again.

You started your Sunday reset regime, changing your bedsheets, even though they smelt like Joel still and wrote your weekly plan. Although, how productive really was the to do list of : kiss Joel, think about Joel, hug Joel, fuck Joel.

Your phone chimed with a text about an hour later.

Joel:

Sarah’s in bed, finally crashed😴 she said she already misses you and wish you didn’t have to ever leave.

You:

She’s the most precious angel- I miss her too. Big hugs and kisses tomorrow xxx

Joel:

I miss you too. Can’t believe you’ve got this old man head over heels again. I love you, baby.

You:

I love you. Can’t believe I’m a girlfriend, I feel like a changed woman.

Joel:

Get some sleep missy, don’t let the honour get to your head😉

You:

Mr Miller… don’t start something you can’t finish.

Joel:

Oh I’ll finish everytime.

You:

Gross- get gone. Night baby.

You finished your chores and got yourself clean and to bed. You sprawled out, smiling to yourself and sleep came easily.

You wished you were at work already so you could be back in Joel’s arms.

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#joel miller #joel miller x platonic!reader #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #joel miller x you #joel miller tlou #joel the last of us #joel miller smut #joel tlou #joel miller fluff #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #boyfriend!joel #joel miller pedro pascal #pedrohub #pedrito

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loverbeesblog · 3 days

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right so i really just sfw, fluffy, joel miller!!! but it feels like more than half of the joel fanfics on here are so slutty and smutty. guys please calm ur dicks down and lemme read sfw protective!joel miller!!!!!!!!

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #the last of us #please please please #joel miller fluff

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strang3lov3 · 1 month

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Dirty Laundry

Joel's best kept secret is the washer and dryer he's not supposed to have. Your best kept secret is that you've been using that washer to get yourself off.

Tags - 18+, smut, fingering, cunnilingus, masturbation on a washing machine, dirty boxer sniffing (you fucking freak), fantasizing about a dirty old man, unprotected piv, creampie, curmudgeon joel talks you through knife safety, washing machine repairs, and overstim. 8k words, idk what the fuck happened. Thank you to @noxturnalpascal , @beefrobeefcal , and @papipascalispunk for helping me edit this monstrosity and @joelsgreys for letting me scream about washers and dryers for days <3 A/N - i have worked harder on this than my finals, but that should surprise no one. i only have one more left and then you should be seeing more of me this summer <3 i have a lot a lot a lot planned and I've been so excited to share new shit with you. Roman girlies, I haven't forgotten about you. He's up next. Anyway, you maniacs know what you’re here for, so please enjoy.

Joel’s best kept secret is his Whirlpool brand washer and dryer set, which is hidden deep in his basement. You stand before it now, loading your dirty laundry into it, using what is definitely too much of Joel’s detergent.

Perhaps it’s more accurate to say his washer and dryer set was his best kept secret, until you came along and forced his hand. Everything was fine, and then you showed up, both yourself and your basket of laundry soaking wet, leaving Joel with no choice but to lend you a hand. Biggest mistake of his life.

As great as Jackson is, it still comes up short sometimes. Not with everything; you’re beyond blessed to live in the safety of its walls. Just technologically, sometimes it can leave you missing the finer things. It's not Jackson’s fault society is twenty years into an apocalypse, thus running on twenty-plus year old appliances. The older ovens, refrigerators, and other appliances that were built in the seventies to the nineties or so are surprisingly doing alright, but the ones built when manufacturing began to take a turn for the worse around the later nineties and 2000s are beginning to crap out, especially the washers. God, you hate laundry day. The washers at the laundromat in Jackson always give you a hard time. Week after week, your chosen washer won’t start, or it’ll stop mid-cycle. The laundry attendant, Patti, often helps you wash your clothes by hand which is nice, but still frustrating for you both.

On a busy and gloomy Sunday a couple months back, you were lucky enough to pick one of the less temperamental washers and hardly had to fight or beg and plead with it to get it to wash your clothes. However, your luck ran out when it came time to dry, your dryer wouldn’t run. Refused to start, even with Patti’s help. Worse yet, every other dryer was in use at the moment. You were shit out of luck. Patti offered you a sympathetic smile and sent you home with a baggy full of clothes pins and a wagon to carry your basket of sopping wet clothes. The clothespins were a nice gesture, but didn’t help much as you didn’t have a clothesline. And - you had to laugh - most of them were broken. Oh dear, sweet Patti.

Once at home, you did your best to hang up your clothes on your porch, laying them out over the thick wooden railing, securing them with rocks. The wind was blowing something fierce that day, and then you felt it – a raindrop. And then another, and another. Before you knew it, you were caught in a torrential downpour, with your clothes blowing every which way. Working to gather your clothes as quickly as possible, you haphazardly chucked the rocks that were keeping them still in every direction, your neighbor Joel interrupting the task when he came outside and started to shout at you. Joel’s a man that can only be described as crotchety. A curmudgeon, even.

“The fuck are you throwing rocks at my window for?” he shouted, but you couldn’t hear him over the sound of the wind and the rain smacking your porch.

“What?” you yelled back, “Joel, I can’t hear you.”

“ROCKS,” he shouted again, “Why are you throwi–” Joel realized it was a lost cause then. He could see in your face that you couldn’t hear him, you looked puzzled and annoyed for a moment before you returned to throwing rocks and gathering clothes. “Fuck it,” he mumbled to himself. Through the pouring rain, he marched across both his and your lawns and right up the steps of your porch. “What are you doing?”

“I was at the laundromat and the dryer stopped working so Patti gave me clothespins but I don’t have a clothesline so I tried to lay them out on my porch with rocks so they could dry but then it started to ra–” Getting the picture, Joel had stopped listening to you and joined you in gathering your clothes tossing stones back into the rock edging surrounding your house. “What are you doing?” you asked.

“Nothin’, just– come on. Let’s go – we’re goin’ to my house,” he answered, dumping the last of your clothes into your basket.

“Why?”

Lightning shoots from a nearby cloud, with booming thunder following suit. Joel’s soaking wet, as are you. His hair was dark and stuck to his forehead, his thin t-shirt clung to his body, outlining his soft, pillowy tummy and belly button and his thick, muscular biceps. “Go, go, go,” Joel shouted, waving you away. “Just go. Move.” he grunted as he lifted up your laundry basket and hauled it across the grass in quick strides. He held the basket on his hip as he opened his door for you, guiding you inside with a push to your lower waist.

Your shoes squeaked as you followed Joel through his house. He took your basket down his basement stairs, “Be careful for me, stairs are steep,” he warned you, “Don’t need you crackin’ your skull open. Got enough shit to deal with.” It was sweet, knowing that he was looking out for you – even with the irritation lacing his tone.

You couldn’t believe your eyes as you saw what Joel had led you to. A washer and a dryer, olive green in color. He opened the door of the dryer and shoved your wet clothes inside it, then took off his own soaked shirt and pants and tossed them in too. “They’re clean,” he told you.

In another lifetime where the world doesn’t go to shit and fungus is the least of your problems, the mundane appliances in front of you would be the very last thing on your mind. You’d be focused on Joel, watching rivulets of water slide down his jaw, past his Adam’s apple and pool in the hollow of his throat. You’d be tracing the outline of his body with your eyes, following that thin line of hair that spreads down his lower stomach, disappearing under his boxers. You’d be eyeing his thick bulge and the way that if you squint, you could see the outline of his cock. But in this life, in this moment – where the world went to shit a long time ago – you’re more amazed by the washer and dryer he stands next to. “This is why I never see you at the laundromat? The whole time, you’ve had a washer and dryer?” you asked, astonished.

“M’not supposed to, but yeah,” Joel answered, shutting the dryer door before turning to you with his chin tilted down, eyebrows raised. Don’t you go tellin’ anyone, now.”

“I’m gonna tell Patti.”

Joel looked betrayed and puzzled. “I’m doin’ you a favor,” he reminded you.

“I know.”

“You want me to dry your clothes or not?” You crossed your arms and bit the inside of your cheek as you shrugged. “Oh, Christ,” Joel grumbled under his breath. “Why the hell would you go and rat me out?”

“Because, Joel, ” you began explaining, “All of the washers and dryers are breaking and you’re hoarding your own? I don’t think so – if everyone else has to share the washers, then you do too,” you scolded. “It’s selfish.”

“Life ain’t fair, sweetheart.” You stared at Joel for a moment before turning on your heel to go tattle on him, just like you swore you would. “Wait–” Joel grabbed your arm, stopping you. Despite being long gone from Boston QZ, Joel couldn’t quite shake those smuggling and bargaining habits of his. You were serious about this threat, and he knew it. You’d march your ass through the pouring rain to go snitch on him to Patti. And really, the worst that would’ve happened to Joel would be a scolding from Maria and the washer and dryer removed from his home and placed in the laundromat. It’s not like he’d be placed in a pillory and have rotten tomatoes thrown at him. But still. Joel liked his washer and dryer. He sighed. “What do you want?”

“I don’t want anything, Joel. I just want to better our community.”

Give me a break. “What do you want,” he repeated, his voice lower.

You pressed your lips in a thin line, eyeing those pretty olive green appliances of his. It’s not a far walk to Joel’s house… And you wouldn’t have to wait in line to wash your clothes behind twenty other people. You did want to better your community, that much was true. But you weren’t opposed to bettering your own life. “Let me use your washer and dryer. Whenever I want.”

Joel was quick to counter in a stern voice, “Twice a week, tops.”

“Three times,” you tried.

“Once,” Joel lowered his offer and then looked at you with his eyes squinted, his head cocked to the side. “Who does laundry three times a week?”

It was a fair point. Even with your very own washer and dryer, you wouldn’t do that much laundry. “Fine. Twice,” you agreed, and Joel held out his hand for you to take and you shook on it. His palm was warm and calloused, his grip firm. In that moment you met his eyes, taking in the beauty of his face. Those sparkling, big brown eyes and the beautiful curve of his aquiline nose. Your eyes traveled lower still, and it hit you both at that moment - the realization that Joel was wearing nothing but his boxers, and that you were still shivering in your cold, wet clothes. Joel dropped your hand quickly and grabbed a clean t-shirt from one of his own laundry baskets on top of the dryer. “Here. You can change into this and toss your clothes in there too, f’ya want.”

“Thanks,” you said quietly, taking the shirt from his hand. “Do you have something to wear?”

“I’m a little behind on laundry, actually…” Joel trailed off, scratching the back of his neck. You scoffed and chuckled at that. The luxury of his very own washer and dryer, right in the comfort of his home, and Joel had the audacity to be behind on laundry. “Uhh, anyway. You just turn the knob on the dryer to ‘high’ and press the start button. I’ll give ya some privacy to change, you can meet me upstairs when you’re done,” he said, and then shuffled past you.

Once Joel was up the stairs, you took off your clothes and put them in with the rest of the clothing in the dryer. You changed into Joel’s t-shirt, the fabric was soft with time and many wearings, and it smelled like him despite being washed. It was a muted teal in color, littered with a couple of bleach stains here and there. You liked it.

Upstairs, Joel made a couple of mugs of hot tea to warm you both up. “Honey?”

“Yeah, Joel?”

“N- no, like…Was askin’ f’ya wanted honey in your tea.”

“Oh.” Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. “Y– yes please. Thank you.” You felt heat rise to your cheeks. What a stupid thing to say. You watched as Joel stirred a bit of honey into your cup of tea, smirking as he then handed you the mug. Asshole. “Thought you were a coffee drinker,” you mused awkwardly, attempting to change the subject after taking a sip of the hot liquid, “You like tea?”

Joel grimaced in disgust as he took a sip of his own tea. “No. Just tryin’ to be polite for ya.”

“You don’t have to drink it if you don’t like it, you know,” you smiled into your mug.

“Don’t tell me what to do.” Aaand there it is. Curmudgeon Joel was back, Neighborly Joel never lasted long anyway.

You sat on Joel’s couch, warming up with your cup of tea. Joel had noticed goosebumps on your thighs and pulled a blanket over your lap. He sat next to you with his mug steaming in his hands and just stared at you, not even realizing how deeply he was admiring the way his shirt hugged your curves just right, highlighting all the right parts of you. He jolted when he felt his cock thicken in his boxers, spilling his scalding hot tea all over his bare thighs. “God bless it,” he swore. Without thinking, he pulled the blanket from your legs and covered his own lap to hide his growing erection from you.

“Joel, what the fuck?”

“Nothin’. Just– m’cold,” he lied. “Jesus fuckin’- just - c’mere,” Joel huffed as he patted the spot next to him and urged you closer, then laid the blanket back over your legs. You sat shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh as you sipped your tea and Joel’s went cold. Dork.

Moments passed. You sat in silence, the only sound was the rain pounding against Joel’s windows as your heart fluttered in anxiety, or maybe excitement. You might’ve even called it butterflies in your tummy. But you knew better. It was just the close proximity to Joel. And the fact that you were wearing his shirt, and he was practically naked. All of it pretty insignificant, honestly. It was basically nothing.

Joel finally spoke first, “Was thinkin’ it’d be best if you’d come by at night, when I’m on patrol or somethin’. Nobody’ll see you with your laundry and it’ll stay our lil’ secret, yeah?” You nodded, still a little bashful with everything that had happened. You aren’t often like that. It’s cute, Joel thought. “An’ you can use my detergent and whatnot. Whatever you need, s’yours.”

“Thank–” an especially bright flash of lightning followed by nearly deafening thunder interrupted you. You startled and sort of hurled yourself closer to Joel, grabbed his forearm and held it tight. It was just a reflex, probably. Basically nothing.

“It’s just a storm, sweetheart. Ain’t gonna bite ya,” Joel teases with a grin.

“Oh, shut up,” you let go of his arm and missed the warmth of his skin beneath your palm almost immediately, but your longing for his touch was quickly soothed. Joel wrapped his arm around you and pulled you into his side as you listened to the sounds of the storm together. You stayed like that, inhaling the sweet scent of him, masculine and heady. He smelled like the rain, too, and the hair on his underarms tickled your skin but you didn’t mind. When your laundry dried, he carried your basket home for you. You thanked him and moved to shut the door, but Joel stopped it with his hand, “Washer can be sorta delicate sometimes, so just be careful with it.”

“Noted,” you replied. “See ya, Joel.”

“See ya, hon.”

A few nights later, you returned to his home with your basket of laundry. Joel was gone, on patrol as he often is at night. Doing the laundry was uneventful , even though you probably used too much detergent, but whatever. Joel didn’t have to know. The next time you did laundry, Joel was at home. He told you not to worry about whichever nights you come by, that he’d always leave the washer and dryer empty in the evenings for you to use. He was even generous enough to make you dinner that night.

It all worked out. Joel’s washer and dryer stayed unknown to the rest of Jackson, and your laundry was cleaned in a much more efficient way. There really weren’t any flaws in your and Joel’s system, as long as you didn’t include the one laundry night where Joel was gone on patrol again, but had come home just as you were leaving. You bumped into him accidentally, causing a lacy pair of your panties to fall right out of your basket and onto his shoe. He bent down and picked them up for you, not even realizing what he was holding. “Oh. My bad,” he blushed, once he recognized the garment. “I’ll just…” and put them back in your basket. From that point forward, he was always careful to stay out of your way. Aside from that it really did all work out.

After loading your clothes into Joel’s washer, you shut the washer door and turn it on. You make your way upstairs and there’s a note on Joel’s table – Leftovers in the fridge are yours if you wanna heat them up.

Opening the fridge, you see a neatly packed container of what looks to be chicken and vegetables. Yum. God, you’ll miss these vegetables when it gets cold again. You take advantage of the offer and heat up the food in a pan on the stovetop, humming to yourself as you stir the food to keep it from burning. A light flickers above you. Weird. It flickers again, and then finally goes out. But it’s no big deal, you’ve seen in Joel’s basement that above the washer and dryer is a shelf full of supplies and you know there’s a couple of bulbs there. You go back downstairs where the washer hums, working its way through the cycle.

“Hmm,” you hum to yourself. You’d never quite realized just how high up that supply shelf is. And the bulbs are in the middle of the shelf, so there’s no good way to get them without climbing on top of the washer, which Joel would probably kill you for doing. He did ask that you be careful with his fragile washer, after all. Whatever. It’ll take like six seconds, tops. You hoist yourself on the washer and first try kneeling on it to see if you can reach one of the bulbs. No luck. You stand on your feet then, raising yourself up carefully, slowly, feeling the washer shake slightly beneath your feet. Joel would be absolutely irate if he saw you like this now. When you finally grab one of those light bulbs, you carefully lower yourself to a seated position on the washer to catch your breath. You’re not usually prone to vertigo, but Joel’s wobbly washer brought the dizziness on. You know better than to try and move right now, so you just settle yourself down to avoid fainting.

The washer vibrates under the flesh of your thighs. It’s a gentle sensation, lessened by the angle you’re sitting at. But if you focus really hard, you can feel it in your core. Curious, you spread your legs and turn to the corner of the washer, tilting your hips to the floor, and oh, this is it. You’re not even thinking about potential consequences when you shimmy your shorts and panties off, then find that sweet spot once more. The metal of the washer is cool against you as it vibrates, sending sweet little buzzes through your hot core. You’re not quite wet yet, just enjoying the sensation. Letting it build and build, seeing where it can get you. You let your mind wander, not really thinking about much in particular. The low hum of the washer fades away in your mind and you’re starting to become wet. Shifting your position, you extend your arm to find something to grab onto when you feel fabric. Joel’s clothes. He’s still a slacker with keeping up on his dirty laundry. Usually it would irritate you. It does irritate you, this exorbitant waste of an advantage he has. You look at the shirt in your hand, the same shirt Joel had lent you. You think back to that first time you did laundry here at Joel’s, how he sat next to you nearly naked. The feel of his skin and the smell of him - sweat and rain and musk. And Joel being the beautiful, incognizant man he is, probably had zero clue of how sexy he looked. Or smelled, for that matter.

With Joel now on your mind and his shirt in your hand, you decide to experiment, create a better ambiance. You keep those images of him in your mind, those feelings too. You remember the low timbre of his voice, the rain splashing against the windows, the weight of his arm wrapped around your shoulders. And with his dirty t-shirt clutched in your fist and its armpit pressed against your nose you remember his scent. Smell is a powerful sense, closely linked to memory and emotion, his shirt and what it’s doing to you is a testament to that fact. Legs spread wide, your hips angled down with your clit pressed to the corner of Joel’s washer, the machine vibrating under you as you inhale his scent deeply - you’re back in that memory. And then some.

In your mind, your back on Joel’s couch. You can smell him, feel him, and if you really concentrate, you can even taste him. You’re on your knees and he’s drawing lazy patterns on your back as you suck his cock and fondle his balls, and he’s moaning, grunting and whimpering your name. He tastes like he smells, heady and all masculine. He grips the back of your neck and lifts you up, guides you to straddle his hips. His forehead pressed against yours, he notches the tip of his cock inside you and pulls you down slowly, careful so as not to hurt you but it does, of course it does. Not that you mind, you love the stretch and the ache of his thickness splitting you in two. You rock yourself, grind your clit against that unruly patch of hair at the base of his cock. You’re coming, you’re coming, you’re coming.

You’re coming. Loudly, whimpering Joel’s name as you rut against the vibrating machine. As you finish, so does the washer. It sings you a little chiming song indicating the load is done washing. You can’t help but giggle at that as you bask in the discovery of this fortuitous delight. You’ve got private access to a washer and dryer and a vibrator now too? Lucky, lucky, lucky.

God, Joel’s shirt smells good. You inhale it deeply, wondering if he wears cologne. It smells almost woodsy…smokey, even.

Fuck. You’re smelling smoke.

You pull on your pants and sprint up the steps, racing to Joel’s kitchen only to find that the chicken and veggies you were heating up are no more. They’re black and shriveled, cemented to the stainless steel pan, and there’s no salvaging that. No amount of scrubbing can erase your masturbatory mistake. Fuck, Joel’s gonna kill you. Your only choice is to conceal the evidence. Surreptitiously, you take the pan and hide it under a bush outside Joel’s backdoor.

You’ll be more responsible next time - yes, there absolutely will be a next time. Gas off before you get off.

The next time came and went. And the time after that, and the one after that. Laundry was always your least favorite chore, but with access to Joel’s washer and dryer and this new trick up your sleeve, it’s not so bad. Getting off on Joel’s washer has become a weekly thing and it’s been lovely, relieving, dirty, and exciting, but you’d be lying if you were to say it’s been perfectly fine the whole time.

You’ve been abusing the poor machine. It’s no secret. You get every bang for your buck out of the washer, taking full advantage of Joel’s twice a week offer and then some. Some nights you’ll sneak over and do an extra load, wash a blanket or something just to make the washer run for your masturbatory purposes. And so, the vibrating sensation the machine produces has begun to weaken. In order to compensate, you’ve been rocking yourself harder on it, which probably isn’t helping. But it’s still washing your clothes, right?

…Yes. Mostly. It still washes, but it’s become sort of finicky. And the door doesn’t quite shut the way it used to, and it makes an odd noise now that it never made before.

Tonight you’re at Joel’s doing a double load of laundry. There were no ulterior motives on your part when you came over, honestly and truly. Your first load is drying, the second load is in the washer. Joel’s home tonight, he’s gonna cook you dinner like he always does when he’s around. For such a grouch, he wears his heart on his sleeve.

It would be more accurate to say you’re cooking dinner together. Joel came home with a basket full of fresh vegetables from the market and actually put you to work, his reasoning being that he was starving and wanted dinner ready yesterday, and that having your help cutting up the vegetables for the meal he was making would have dinner ready that much sooner. He places a cutting board in front of you and hands you a knife, “Chop chop,” he says, then laughs at his own pun as he rifles through some cabinets. “Missin’ a saucepan…” he mumbles to himself. Oops.

You start by peeling the carrots. As you begin to chop them, you realize he didn’t give you any sort of instruction. “Joel?”

“Yeah, hon.”

“How small do you need me to cut the carrots?”

“Uhhhh,” he thinks. “Lemme see.” Joel turns around and watches you with a look of disappointment and repulsion painting his features. “What’s the matter with you?”

“What?” you ask defensively.

“Why are you tryin’ to cut off your fingers?”

You look down at your hand holding the carrot and your other hand holding the knife, then up at Joel. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion. “I’m not trying to cut off my fingers.”

“Sure looks like it to me. Is that always how you handle a knife?”

“Yeah,” you reply, “Why?”

“‘Cause you’re gonna cut off your damn fingers, dammit, that’s why. C’mere,” Joel stands behind you where you stand at the island, then lifts up your left hand and curls your fingers underneath themselves. “Keep your fingers like this,” he instructs. “Holdin’ your fingers out flat like that are a sure fire way to cut ‘em off. Now show me how you chop.”

With your fingers in the proper position now, you begin to cut the carrots. They wobble beneath you, you hate the way Joel has you holding them. “This is uncomfortable,” you tell him.

“You know what’s more uncomfortable? Missin’ fingers. Keep goin’.” You groan but keep chopping per his demand. He’s pressed against your back, one of his palms lays flat against the countertop, semi caging you in as he watches you work. “Okay, okay, stop. You’re makin’ me nervous. Gimme this.” Joel wraps his hand around yours on the handle of the knife. He moves the knife for you, cutting the carrot slowly, your hand securely in his. “You’re liftin’ the knife too much, sweetheart. Just rock it back and forth for me. Just like this,” he whispers, showing you how he rocks the knife in a fluid motion to cut the carrots. His hands are warm, his grip on your hands is firm. His breath is hot and tickles your ear, sending goosebumps erupting down the back of your neck. He chops the carrots quietly, and you feel him against you - the rise and fall of his chest and tummy with each inhale and exhale he takes, his wiry scruff kissing the side of your face. “That’s it,” he praises, “Good girl.”

Fuck. His words go right to your core. As if him holding your hands and caging you in to teach you how to cut vegetables wasn’t enough, he had to call you ‘good girl’ as well. That had to be deliberate on his part, you’re almost certain of it. And now you’ve got to pay his washer another visit. His fault, honestly. “Laundry,” you blurt out, pushing his hands off of yours and shrinking away from his hold. “Sorry. Gotta check the laundry.”

“Oh. Alright, then.” Joel watches you pace down the basement stairs and listens to you pretend to check on your clothes, opening and shutting the washer and dryer doors. He’s waiting for you to come upstairs, but you never do. “You comin’ upstairs?”

“Yeah, just a minute,” you call back.

“There’s spiders down there, you know. Big an’ fuzzy too.”

“I’ll be fine,” you yell as you unbutton your shorts and pull them down your legs. “I don’t mind them.”

Your reply immediately has Joel feeling suspicious of you. Even a mention of a mere ant should have sent you running into his arms and pleading with him to get rid of it. On more than one occasion, Joel’s woken up to you pounding on his door in the middle of the night begging him to come kill a spider that’s in your bedroom. And he always does, of course, even when the spider is miniscule and simply minding its business in a corner somewhere. He’ll scoop it into the palm of his hand and set it outside in a bed of flowers, call you a wimp and be on his merry way, grumbling the entire walk home. He wonders why the hell you’re so brave all of a sudden.

A loud, clunking noise interrupts the silence. “Oh, fuck,” you swear. And Joel’s deaf, but not deaf enough to not hear you. “What was that?” he calls from up the stairs.

“Nothing!”

Joel knows it wasn’t nothing, it certainly didn’t sound like nothing. You quickly pull your shorts and panties back on when you hear him stomping down the stairs to investigate. Wracking your brain to think of a lie to tell Joel, you realize you’re fucked, utterly and completely. It would’ve been more appropriate to think of one before now, probably around the time the washer started to make weird noises. Now you’re faced with god knows what consequences.

Joel greets you with a puzzled and angered expression. “What the hell happened?”

“I d– I don’t know. Just something… Happened, I guess,” you stutter. Subtly, you stuff the used pair of his boxers you were smelling down the back of your shorts to hide the evidence of your even dirtier secret. Joel sees that you’re avoiding eye contact, looking up and away, scratching your head. The silence hangs heavily in the air and Joel sees the guilt on your face and that your shorts are undone for some reason. “You have ten seconds to tell me the truth before this becomes a much worse day for us both.”

“Nothing happened–”

“Nine, eight…”

You fold instantly. “I sit on it,” you confess, Joel exhales in frustration. “Sit? As in… this is a regular occurrence, you’ve been sittin’ on my washer,” Joel asserts. You nod in confirmation. “Why.”

“I don’t know,” you shrug, another lie.

“Well, how much have you been sittin’ on it?”

“Just like…a lot, I guess.” You look down at your feet, shifting your weight from one foot to the other.

“Why?” he asks again.

“It…uhh…sort of…” you mumble, picking at your fingernails.

“Sort of what?”

“Vibrates.”

Joel’s face falls at the admission. “You’re not serious,” he says, but he knows you are. “Oh my god.”

“Stranger things have happened, right?” Your voice wavers as you try to soften the blow with a joke.

“Unbelievable,” Joel pinches the bridge of his nose and shakes his head. “No. Stranger things than you have not happened, sweetheart.” After taking a few deep breaths, he pushes you to the side and reaches for the shelf above the washer for a toolbox. He takes out a putty knife and wriggles the front of the washer off, then drops to his knees to inspect the washer. “Did I not ask you to be careful with it?” It’s a rhetorical question. Joel groans when he sees what’s broken inside of the washer.

“What is it?”

“Belt’s broken,” he answers. “You’re lucky s’fixable.”

“Oh,” you say. “Well, it’s good you can fix it, right?”

“Oh, no. You are fixin’ it, my darlin’. You broke it.”

Joel’s out of his mind if he thinks you’re putting his washer back together. “I don’t know how,” you tell him. You’ll make it up to him in any other way than this, but there’s no way he’s serious. Besides, he’s now the first to know that your track record with washers isn’t to be trusted.

“I’ll walk you through it,” Joel replies plainly. “Get down there. On your knees, sweetheart.” You roll your eyes at him. “Now,” he says, unimpressed with your defiance.

You drop to your knees in front of the washer, looking for the broken belt that Joel speaks of. You find one of the big and fuzzy spiders he was talking about instead. “Jesus!” you yelp, launching backwards and nearly knocking Joel over in the process “There’s a spider, Joel - kill it, kill it, kill it, Joel - kill it, please,” you beg.

“Oh for Christ’s sake, it’s harmless.”

“Joel!”

Joel nudges you out of the way to find the spider sitting right at the bottom of the washer. He scoops it into his hand, then holds it in front of you, “I thought you said you didn’t mind ‘em,” he taunts.

“I lied. Get it away from me,” You shove him away from you, and he clutches the spider more carefully in his hands, laughing.

“Yeah, I know you lied. You’re very bad at it,” Joel opens one of the basement’s egress windows and sends the spider on its way, then closes it and returns to you, first grabbing what looks to be a replacement belt for his washer from a nearby shelf. Leave it to Joel to have the most convenient yet obscure supplies right in his basement twenty years into an apocalypse. “Back to work.” You’re in front of the washer once more, and Joel takes his seat right behind you. “See that black belt at the bottom of the drum?”

“No.”

“This thing here,” he points at it with his finger. “Take it off,” You reach for the belt and tug on it a bit, “Gotta wiggle it a bit,” following his instruction, you wiggle the belt and it falls off the drum. “Attagirl. Now put this one on,” he hands you the new belt and takes the old one from you. “S’gonna be snug.”

You struggle to stretch the rubber over the drum and it snaps your hands when it slips. “Fuck.”

“Keep tryin’. Put some elbow grease into it, hon,” Joel hovers over your shoulder, just as he did earlier in the kitchen. “M’just checkin’ to make sure you got it lined up properly,” Joel tugs on the rubber belt, making sure it’s sitting where it needs to. “So tell me again how long you been doin it for,” he whispers. “Long time?”

You answer cautiously, “Uhhh…a while now, I guess.”

“Yeah, I figured. S’it feel good?”

The question throws you off, makes you nervous. But his voice is low and gravelly, and his tone isn’t pointed or accusatory. He seems curious, but for what reason, you’re not quite sure yet. “It does.”

“Better than your fingers?” Joel tightens the belt a bit and leans back. He’s watching you, but you can’t bring yourself to look into his eyes. You gasp when you feel his warm palm sliding underneath your shorts. “What the–” Oh, fuck. Joel found his pair of boxers. He holds the fabric in his hands, a knowing grin on his lips. “These are mine. What’re you doin’ with my dirty boxers?” he asks. He doesn’t allow you time to stutter out an excuse. “You’re a dirty lil’ bird, aren’t you?”

“Joel.”

He tosses his pair of boxers onto the dryer and whispers in your ear again, “I asked you somethin’. My washer feel better than your fingers?”

“Yeah,” you answer, “Better.”

Joel hums in amusement. He slides his hand down the front of your pants, still unbuttoned from earlier. “Saved me the trouble, didn’t ya, sweetheart?” he breathes. Your breath hitches when his fingers find your mound, as he toys with the curls there. He traces over your lips, then dips a finger between them, circling your hole, then circles your clit. “Better than mine?” he asks, dipping a finger into your center and you moan. He holds one hand on your hip as the other pumps in and out of your center, and you lean back into his chest, relaxing with his touch. You sigh deeply. “Don’t get all cozy on me, now. You ain’t done. Gotta put the front of the washer back on, should just click right into place.”

Joel pulls his hand away from you so you can lift the front piece of the washer. “It’s not–” you complain, struggling to click it into place the way Joel says it should. You push and push, but it doesn’t budge. “Joel, it’s not–”

“It will. Just try.”

“I am,” you argue, shoving it once more but to no avail. You’ve grown frustrated by his washer, by the task Joel bestowed upon you in fixing it, and his teasing, too. In a fit of anger, you stand up and kick it.

“Hey, easy,” Joel scolds. “Look, like this,” Magically, the front piece of the washer fits right into place, just like he said it would. He does nothing different than what you did, it just works out for him. Of course it does. “You’re impatient, huh?” he murmurs, moving behind you. You gasp when you feel his hands on your hips, tugging the fabric of both your shorts and your panties down to your ankles, he helps you out of the garments and tosses them elsewhere. His hands are on your hips again, this time guiding you, whispering, “Back, back,” as he positions you where he needs you, spreading your legs apart. You’re leaning on his washer and he’s on his knees behind you, using his nose to tease and part your slick folds. He inhales you deeply, taking in the sweet scent of your arousal before he tastes you. He traces your lips with a pointed tongue, up and down, before he dips his tongue into your heat, savoring you.

“How ‘bout my tongue?” he purrs, whispering against your skin. You don’t answer, and it’s not like you could anyway, with the way he devours you. His arms are wrapped around your legs, his fingertips are digging harshly into your thighs like he means to bruise you, tear the flesh off your bones even. It’s possessive in nature, but not abusive or aggressive. You know his actions aren’t borne of anything except pure pleasure and you indulge in it, in him. He moves slow like honey as he tastes you languidly, kissing you. He laps your velvety heat, his tongue teasing all of your sensitive, slick flesh. Now and then the wiry hairs of his beard will tease and scratch your inner thighs, a sensation that tickles you and rubs you raw all the same. “Oh my god,” you moan, reaching behind yourself to take hold of his head, fingers tangling in his graying curls and waves. “Joel, oh my god.”

Joel takes your lack of a real answer to his question as a no, his washer pales in comparison to his tongue. Good. He bets you’ve fantasized about him, all those times you’ve used his washer for those needs of yours besides washing your clothes. And he bets that you probably grind yourself on it, picturing it’s his warm flesh beneath you and not the cold metal of the machine. He’d be right. He sucks your clit, circling the sensitive bud with his tongue. He nips at your folds, sucking one, then the other between his plump lips, then focuses his attention back at your clit. You’re moaning his name, the only word you know anymore. Joel keeps you still, held tight in his arms so that you can’t push your ass back and grind against his mouth like he knows you’re fighting to do. All you can do is take it, feel his perfect aquiline nose tease between your cheeks. He’s buried himself face first in your most private place as he consumes you voraciously, his tongue flicking and swirling and painting you. You’re biting into your own arm, seeing stars as you come on his tongue. It’s an elusive sort of orgasm, the kind where you don’t exactly know where it begins and it ends. All you know is that you’re sensitive, so fucking sensitive and Joel is relentless. Your knees buckle as he toys with your clit, gives you a break for a moment before he’s right back there again, continuing to eat you. He keeps going and going, repeating the actions over and over again just to make you cry and beg, “Stop - please - I can’t, I can’t, Joel. T-too much.”

“Know it’s too much, sweetheart, s’why I’m doin it,” Joel coos. But he obliges, places one last kiss to your heat, soaked by his spit and your own arousal before he stands up behind you. He wraps one arm around your stomach, pulling himself close to you. You can feel his hard cock against your ass, separated only by his denim as he uses his other hand to turn your face to the side, meeting him beside you. He kisses you, tracing his tongue along the seam of your lips, licking into your mouth. You taste yourself on his tongue, then feel his hand leave your face to reach for his fly. You hear him unzip his jeans slowly, and then he’s pulling his cock out, still kissing you as he lines up with you, first parting your thighs with a gentle nudge of his knee before notching his tip at your entrance. He finally pulls his mouth away from yours and gently forces your chest down toward the washer. He pushes himself into you, careful so as not to hurt you but deliberately so that you still feel that ache, the stretch of his thick cock separating your insides. Joel continues holding your body close to his as he reaches for your hand with his free one, interlacing his fingers in between your own. “How about my cock, sweetheart? You like it better, worse?” he whispers, kissing, nipping at your ear in between words. He pulls out of you nearly all the way, then pushes back into your dripping cunt.

You try to answer, “Bet - oh, ahhh,”

Joel chuckles at the way he’s reduced you to nothing but broken syllables and moans. “Ohhh, listen to you. I think it’s better, huh? S’that what you’re tryin’ to tell me?” You nod frantically. “Yeah, I know, beautiful.”

His pace is slower to start, but it builds in quick time. You can feel he’s fighting with himself to be more gentle than he actually wants to be, his thrusts sloppier than he intends, like he’s losing himself in you. You’re lost in him, lost in the moment all the same. You take it all in, the lewd and obscene sounds of the pleasure he creates with you - his thighs slapping against yours and the gushing of your cunt on his cock. Your moans, your cries, all babbling nonsense. And Joel’s deep breaths in and out, shaky and stuttering as he does it. His grunts and his swearing, a whimper here and there if you listen closely. He fills you up perfectly, hits that sweet spot deep inside you over and over and over…

“You coulda had me like this the whole time,” he pants, “Didn’t have to go an’ break my washer f’ya needed somethin’ more than those fingers of yours, sweetheart. Know you been needin’ some lovin’.” He reaches for your breasts, squeezing and groping the flesh, twisting your nipples and smirking when you twitch and whine. “All you had to do was ask.” You don’t respond, but he doesn’t expect you to anyway. What he did expect, however, were your moans of displeasure as he pulls out of you. He knows, oh, he knows how empty you must feel, you poor thing. He’ll soothe that. He flips you around, seats you on his washer. “I’m gonna make you come again,” he promises, “I’m gonna watch.”

“Too much, Joel, I can’t,” you cry. You want to come again, really. But you don’t think you have it in you, still so worked up, overstimulated by the endless teasing of his tongue on your pussy.

“Oh, don’t cry. You can do it, hon. You can take it,” he says, “Open up those legs for me, darlin’.” Joel pushes your trembling legs wide so he can slot his hips between them, then wraps your legs around his waist before sliding his cock into you once more. He thrusts just once, rather harshly, before he’s met with another rather loud noise from the washer. Joel halts and scratches the back of his neck. God, he hopes he didn’t just do it in. “Probably shouldn’t…uh…”

“Yeah,” you agree.

“Did you use my dryer too?”

“Duh,” you answer. “How else would I dry my clothes?”

Joel rolls his eyes, “No, smartass. Were you usin’ it for your dirty work, is what I’m askin’.”

“No.”

Still inside you, Joel slides you over to his dryer. “Good girl. Poor washer’s been abused plenty by you already.”

“But I will,” You whisper defiantly under your breath, wrapping your arms around his neck as he adjusts.

“Wrong ear, sweetheart. My right one’s deaf. I heard that loud and clear.”

Joel’s back to fucking you in an instant. He wastes no time in making good on his promise, thumbing your clit as he rolls his hips into you. “See, look at you. Takin’ me just fine,” he praises.The way you squirm and take your shallow little breaths fills him with satisfaction and delight. He knows this isn’t easy, that you’re tired and sore and overstimulated. He’ll be done with you soon. “Come with me, wanna feel you come with me, sweetheart,” he says. “Focus here, eyes on me. You’re gonna come with me.”

It’s a few moments of Joel painting your clit with those tight, steadied circles as he fucks you hard and deep. There’s a push and pull to it, where you’re not sure who this is for - yourself or Joel. Just like before, you’re not sure where it starts and stops, but you’re there. God it’s intense, you’re gonna break and you know it. Joel’s got his palm on the back of your neck, squeezing you. His jaw clenches and he’s coming undone first, but he never loses focus on you. His thrusts stutter as he milks himself in you but doesn't yet stop - he’s making sure you’re gonna come. “C’mon baby, c’mon. Give it to me,” he says. “One more for me. Last one.”

His words are all it takes. You whimper and moan, cry his name as you find your climax. Release washes over you the way waves crash onto sand - it’s repeated, the way the tides push and pull. Deafening. Powerful.

But there’s a calmness yet. The rolling of his hips slows, slows, stops. He presses his damp forehead against yours, breathing deeply. “You’re okay,” he murmurs. “You’re okay?”

You nod and smile, “Yeah, I’m good.” He smiles with you and helps you off of the dryer. Joel finds your clothes and dresses you in them, steadying your shaky legs.

Joel tentatively restarts the washer. It chugs a bit, but makes all the right noises and he breathes a sigh of relief. You’re a bit startled when he takes you by the arm and marches you up the stairs. “New rule,” he says, “You stay with me when your clothes are washin’.”

You bite your lip to hide your guilty smirk. “Yes. Joel.”

“And I still need you to cut them veggies for me, too.”

I struggled heavily with this fic, comments and reblogs would be much appreciated if you were feeling so inclined🙏 they keep me motivated and I look back at your words when I’m writing to remember that I’m capable of pleasing you all

#strang3lov3 #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader smut #joel miller fluff #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #pedro pascal #the last of us #the last of us hbo #joel miller fanfic #joel the last of us #tlou joel #pedro pascal x reader

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joelsmochi · 4 months

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every man gets his wish - joel miller

rating: E 18+ pairing: neighbor!joel x f!pornstar!reader summary: joel discovers his next door neighbor makes porn in her spare time. once she's confronted, she finds out that he has an interest in helping create content ;) warnings: not proofread, no physical descriptions other than reader having an unidentified tattoo on her thigh and nice peach, unspecified age gap (ur choice pookie), [m] masturbation, objectively joel is a bit of a perv, some awkward dialogue, literal porn. literally, degradation (they get a lil rough), f + m oral, smacking/spanking, daddy kink (slight ddlg vibes too), pet names and plenty of dirty talk YUM wc: 3.2k a/n: happy valentine's day smut sluts :D!

He almost couldn’t believe his eyes, but he’d recognize that tattoo anywhere; his gaze followed the tattoo on the back of your thigh as you rode your cute little excuse for a toy.

Your soft moans and breaths echoing through the speakers on his laptop made his legs tremble against the old desk chair in his room while he fucked his fist.

He didn’t even think twice about the video he clicked on. He just knew he was horny and in need of quick release, so he typed his favorite keywords into Pornhub’s search engine and clicked the sixth video that only showed your ass. He realized he never noticed how juicy it was, and the oil or lotion or lube or whatever you fucking used to make it so goddamn shiny only emphasized how perfect it was.

Staring at the screen, he grasped the armrest in one hand and cock in the other, watching your puffy pussy cream all over the dildo. He matched the strokes of his hand with the rhythm of you bouncing. Slowing down, speeding up, only fucking the tip or grinding—he reenacted every movement of yours as best he could.

Even waiting until you were shaking and shouting the words, “I’m cumming—fuck yes! Just like that baby,” before cumming with you.

He watched the last few minutes of the video, watching you slap the dildo on your creamy cunt and play with it a little more along with standing up off of your bed and jiggling your ass in your hands. You giggled softly watching yourself. Then, much to his surprise, you sat down in front of the camera and smiled.

He wasn’t expecting you to reveal your face, so when the video ended he looked out of his bedroom window into yours. You were lying on the bed reading a book in the very spot where you recorded that filthy video.

You weren’t trying to tease him, he knew that, but it certainly felt that way.

♡

Joel had successfully managed to evade you for a week feigning work has been keeping him too tired for company. He found himself a touch jealous that the world had seen you naked before him despite your relationship being completely platonic.

You owed him nothing, not even an explanation, but he still felt weirdly possessive over you. He had a slight crush on you when you first moved in, but you were so much younger than he was, and in his eyes you'd want nothing to do with such an old man like himself. Not to mention the 'crush' was mostly just a lingering desperation to fuck you.

The discovery led him to do a deep dive into your profile on the website. There he discovered what seemed like a plethora of your content along with your affinity for degradation whether it was to yourself or towards others.

However he felt like he could finally breathe when he saw it was all solo content. You didn't even seem to entertain the idea of fucking someone else and uploading it. He even felt a sliver of hope that he could be your first real fuck on camera, but if he already struggled with confronting his own feelings towards you then how could he ever open up the opportunity to doing a video with you?

Joel was finally over avoiding you. He was ready to admit his discovery to you and go from there. He just prayed you wouldn't freak out.

"Hi, Joel!" You greeted after opening your front door. "What's been goin' on cowboy, I've been a little lonely on this side of town."

He followed your actions and sat on your sofa; as instant as a heartbeat you noticed he was off. Nervous? Worry? Anger? You struggled to read him.

"Somethin' the matter?"

He pulled himself out of his daze and looked at you, mouth hanging open like he couldn't manage the words. They just sort of... Spilled out.

"I found your porn on PornHub the other day and I don't care that you sell porn. I really don't. You're a grown woman and it's your body and you can do whatever you want. I just felt wrong not tellin' you."

Poor Joel.

You wanted to laugh at him, tell him there was no guilt in finding it or even watching it (because let's face it, you know he did).

"Okay," you said.

"Okay..."

"...Did you like it?" You asked after feeling a little uneasy with the silence.

"Hell yeah," he responded without hesitation making you giggle.

"Really?" You tittered, "I feel like it gets old."

This was his golden opportunity. At the very least he could pass what he was about to say off as a joke.

"I could always help with that," he chuckled.

You were clearly taken aback by his statement but still smiling. "I'm don't like sharing my money, Joel," you scoffed.

"So don't pay me," he said just as he leaned in a little closer. "Just fuck me."

You couldn't fight the blush that rose to your cheeks and he cockily took notice of it.

"Are you fucking with me?" You bashfully asked.

This made him lean in closer, close enough for you to smell him, close enough to feel his breath cascading over your collarbones, close enough to know that the dark look in his eyes wasn't mischief. It was desire.

His hands cupped your jaw so that he could bring your nose to his. You felt beautifully trapped between his hands, gaze, and aura. Suddenly you were filled with the desire to let him take you in any way he wanted to imagine.

"You know what my favorite video is?" He whispered, breath hitting your lips. "You were on your side, getting ready to cum, and you kept saying I belong to you until you were screaming. Damn near crying. Your little fucktoy was soaked. You had cum everywhere. But the best part was when you did start to cum. You couldn't even look away from yourself, you looked too damn good and you fucking knew it."

"I'd look even better with you inside of me," you told him.

He sharply inhaled before placing his needy lips onto yours, pressing his face in as much as he could.

You moaned into his open mouth, reaching for his tongue with your own. His hands roamed down your body until they reached your hips; showing off his strength, he lifted you into his lap and stood up not wanting to waste another second.

He tried to be careful on the stairs but his eagarity caused him to misstep and almost drop you; he left no room for embarrassment and quickly returned to running up with you giggling at the mishap.

Joel placed you on the bed standing with his jean-covered erection eye level with you. "Where's your camera?"

"Really wanna record it, hmm?" You said softly, running your hand along his hard length and motioning your head to the dresser behind him.

He grabbed it, muttering, "Wanna show everyone you're mine now," whilst turning the camera on.

You cocked an eyebrow up as if to say oh really. "Is that so? I'm all yours now?"

Smiling, he pointed the now recording camera at you. He cupped your chin and dragged a finger over the bright smile you wore. "You're all mine now, darlin'."

You giggled coyly then kissed his clad erection slowly with eyes that remained on the lens.

"Quit teasin'," he demanded with a playful lilt.

You hummed and fake pouted, pulling your face away to toggle his jeans. "There are nicer ways to ask," you teased.

"I'm not askin'."

"Oh? My apologies, daddy."

Your hand began pumping his thick cock when you said that, making his cock jerk hard within your tight grip.

"Daddy, huh?" He entertained; you seductively nodded. "S'pretty right here..."

"Where I belong," you hummed.

Then, you lined your tongue up with the base of his cock, just barely teasing his balls, and licked a stripe up his girthy shaft before twirling your tongue around his red hot tip. You carefully watched as his face contorted, ensuring it was with pleasure and looking for any sensitive spots he may have.

He seemed to favor your tongue on his cockhead so that's what you prioritized for a minute. You tongue kissed it as if it were his mouth. Licking and sucking and pulling it into your mouth feverishly.

His cock tasted manly and the length was just as impressive as him. You finally pulled more of him into your mouth allowing him the privilege of feeling your gummy cheeks swell and close around his dick.

A strained groan left his throat and his head fell back in pleasure. You pushed some of him into your throat to gag, earning more spit to pump the rest of his length with.

Joel was enamoured to say the least. Your wide eyes locked with his letting him know you loved sucking his cock as much as he did. Spit hung from your chin prompting him to reangle the camera to get the side view of everything.

He placed a hand on the back of your head and gently fucked your throat. You moaned, grabbing his ass and pulling him in for more pain, more suffocation.

Your throat gagged over and over again, imitating the feeling of your swallowing his dick. You loved how he shamelessly moaned, filling your ears with the sexy sounds of his calloused whimpers and content praises.

"Such a good girl, sucking daddy's cock like that," he groaned. "You like the taste, don't you? Such a good little slut." He smacked your jaw as encouragement to keep doing whatever magic you were fucking performing.

Once your throat began to get sore you pulled your mouth off of him, still opting to use your hands as he laid you down and rested on top of you, giving you the sloppiest kiss you'd ever received and assisting you with undressing.

He tasted his cock on your lips and chin and slurped up whatever precum and spit you had leftover. It felt nasty and passionate, with subtle moans spilling from both of you, and Joel couldn't get enough of it.

"Sit on my face," he breathed.

"Sit on your face?"

"Mmhm."

You set the camera up on the dresser looking at the screen to ensure it would capture everything before complying with his wish. He let out a muffled moan as soon as your wet pussy came in contact with his wet mouth.

On the camera, everything could be seen: your cunt glistened effortlessly and his tongue lapped up whatever your body poured for him. His scruff tickling your freshly shaved skin made you giggle and moan, little noises everywhere that sung like a melody in his ears.

Your clit tingled with a pressure that encouraged you to started riding his face. In response Joel's calloused hands came up to grip your ass and assisted your movements.

He squeezed one cheek almost too hard before spanking it a few times, your flesh easily bruising red and stinging deliciously.

"Joel, your mouth... Perfect," you blabbered. You were filled with bliss: your eyes were closed, fingers twirling playfully in his messy hair.

God, he licked you so fucking good. So messy but that's what made it effortlessly perfect.

"I—oh my God. Fuck! I love your fucking mouth," you moaned loudly.

"Mhm?"

You shuddered at the vibrations, hips stuttering into his licks and sucks even deeper.

"Yes, Joel!" You cried, "Fuck you're gonna make me cum... You're gonna make me cum!"

He spanked your ass even more at this, making both cheeks turn a bashful color and jiggle against his jawline.

With trembling thighs you managed all of your strength to hump him harder and faster. Doing whatever you fucking could to reach your climax.

"Yesyesyesyesyesyes!" You happily cheered as your juices began to relentlessly pour out of your squelching cunt and down his chin.

A satisfied smile rose to your face as your clit throbbed through the orgasm Joel had just given you. You slowed down on your own time allowing him to savor every last drop he'd be tasting for now.

You carefully removed your weight from his face, feeling more out of breath than ever. Meanwhile Joel sat up and swiped up some of your come with his thumb just before forcing it into your mouth and using his other hand to pinch out some that managed to get inside of his nose.

You were a tad embarrassed by his action but his subtle grin let you know that there was nothing more sexy than getting you so wet that it literally almost suffocated him.

Your mouth latched into him, cherishing the scruff surrounding his face. He went to lay on top of you again, your head now hanging off of the foot of the bed; he held your legs to your chest and slid into you easily making you whine at the slight burn that came with being stretched out.

With furrowed brows and an agape mouth, he incandescently moaned into the thick air while his thick thumb found your sensitive clit. You flinched and exhaled harmoniously at the combination of pleasure, enriched in the ecstasy he gave.

"You're so fuckin' tight, babydoll. Agh—almost can't take it," he taunted. "M'gonna have to ruin ya."

He gently released the grip of your legs and put his weight onto you. His arms slithered beneath you, wrapping around you in a way that made you feel safe. Then he kissed you, much more softly than before and rolled his hips back and forth. Your slick walls gripped him, trying to suck him in deeper.

His lips pulled off of you with a pop and he licked a thick line from your clavicle to behind your ear as if he magically knew it was your sweet spot.

You giggled and shivered at the ticklish feeling, enduring it until it started to feel more sensual. He felt you relax within his touch and took it as opportunity to nibble the spot, biting it just enough to hurt a little bit.

Between his movements and your sweaty bodies sticking together you felt almost useless; you were used to doing the work, giving instead of taking. But it felt too good to stop now.

When you clawed at his back he pushed himself up and started slamming into you. You gasped, digging your nails into his arms.

"Love those pretty little sounds you're makin' f'me," he hummed, pushing his hand into your exposed neck and gripping it. "You like that? Hm? Ohh, you fucking love it. Look it at you."

You raised a hand and smacked his cheek lightly—your way of saying fuck you considering his grasp of you. He reciprocated, landing a firm smack to your face and earning a smile in return.

"Fuckin' brat needs to be put in her place—"

You shook your head attempting to hum out a no.

The hand he had around your neck reached up to squish your cheeks so that he could come eye to eye with you. "God, fuck. I can't even punish you when you look at me with those pretty eyes," he said defeatedly. "Look at you, babydoll. You're so fuckin' tight. Best fuckin' pussy ever. So wet, just f'me."

"All yours, Joel. I'm all yours."

"Yeah?" He cooed. "You're all mine?"

"Fuck yes!"

"Cum for me, baby. Yeah, cum on my cock," he pleaded, "get it nice and wet for me darlin', need you to cum for me."

Between his scruff voice and brutal thrusts you found yourself falling into another orgasm, everything around you ceased to exist.

The world went quiet aside from Joel's encouragements and praises; you could feel the blood pumping throughout your body, your heart punching against your chest, and your body molding to the twists and curves of Joel's body.

As you squeezed and scratched and begged him for more more more you felt the tension between your legs dissolve passionately into a sear so strong you felt it warm and burning the flesh along your belly.

Joel watched your chest rise and fall with your tits bouncing to the rhythm of his thrusts. He rode you out until the very end of your high before picking you up and sitting on the edge of the bed with you straddling him.

Feeling even more horny and turned on than before you wasted no time and began bouncing on his painfully hard dick.

He was fighting his climax, needing to feel you wrapped around him as long as he could take.

"You feel so fucking good, daddy," you whined, "want your cum."

"You want me to cum inside you babydoll?" He pouted.

"Yes Joel. Want you to fill me up..."

"Gonna ruin that pretty pussy," he grunted, "gonna make you mine. This pussy belongs to me now, doesn't it?"

He listened to you whimper and weep and whine, coaxing you through it all while offering a few pops to your ass and thighs for encouragement.

You watched him lay down, arms folded behind his head to enjoy the little show you were putting on for him. Hair bouncing and flaying everywhere while you rode him with a bobbling head—the view from where he was looked pretty fucking perfect.

Your movements halted and you managed to turn around on his cock while keeping it inside; hearing a strained gurgly moan come from him as a result, you mercilessly began riding him again giving him the best view of your ass as it clapped against the peak of his belly.

"Good fuckin' slut," he slapped your tatted thigh and watched intently for a moment or two. "Good girl, mhmm. Doin' such a perfect job on daddy's cock."

Joel then sat up and reached for your clit, rubbing the sweetest little circles on it and using his free hand to turn your face to kiss him.

Reverse cowgirl had always been him favorite position, but he can't remember a time or even a moment where it felt this fucking good.

"You're gonna make me cum, baby," he whispered with his forehead leaning against yours. "Gonna make me fuckin' cum. Tha' what you want, baby? Want your daddy to fill this fuckin' pussy up?"

He gave your clit a mean smack but it only made you go faster.

"Need you to cum! Fucking—ohh! Cum for me, please daddy. Want you to f-fill me up!"

Joel began thrusting to meet you halfway, and his eyes stayed locked with yours as he muttered a string of profanities.

"Oh shit. Ohfuckohfuckohfuck. Fuck yes!"

He painted your pussy with his hot, sticky ropes of cum, moaning your name over and over with fluttering eyes and a tight grip on your hips. He thrusted a few more times before pulling out and meeting you with a few more soft kisses as a thank you.

You felt his cum slowly pouring out of your swollen cunt, trailing down his softening cock and on the sheets. You two stayed like that for a while, savoring the moment and taking your time.

A while later while he was cleaning up between your legs he said, "You better upload that video."

"You weren't joking?" You scoffed, wearing a smile.

"I wasn't joking," he said contently.

That night once he had fallen asleep in your bed, you decided to upload the full video uncut with the perfect title...

My DILF Neighbor Comes Over For A Creampie ♡

346K Views | 93% | 16 Hours Ago | ♡ 532

#pedro pascal #joel miller #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fluff #joel tlou #joel miller tlou #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #tlou fandom

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punkshort · 4 months

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'i know who you are' masterlist

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Series Summary: A fall on patrol causes you to lose your long term memory, forgetting the identities of your friends and loved ones. You have to learn all over again how to survive in a post-apocalyptic world, and you learn things about yourself along the way.

-or-

Joel has to make you fall in love with him all over again.

Series Warnings: smut MDNI (18+), post outbreak, language, angst, hurt/comfort, graphic depictions of violence, amnesia, slow burn, minor infidelity - more warnings will be stated for each chapter

Status: complete

I started a notifications blog in lieu of a taglist: @punkshort-notifs

Chapters:

1: the beginning

2: the journal

3: the accident

4: the others

5: the dinner

6: the fight

7: the week

8: the return

9: the end

Extras/BTS/Inspo:

Floor Plan

Drabbles/Requests:

Never Enough - a day in the life pre-accident

Before - the morning of the accident

Jealous - reader finds out about Angie (the first time)

Stubborn - the night Joel convinces reader to make things official

dividers by @saradika-graphics

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel the last of us #joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller series #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal #the last of us hbo #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us

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strawhbrrries · 5 months

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Starin' Problem.

pairing: dbf!no outbreak!joel miller x afab!reader

summary: a red dress and a glass of whiskey is all it took for Joel to lose every ounce of self control he once had.

warnings: porn no plot, female pronouns, age gap (both consenting adults), unprotected p in v, fingering, creampie, slight creep joel, daddy kink, breeding kink...,mean joel, dirty talk, praise!!!, no use of y/n or descriptions of reader, not proofread

word count: 1.3k words

recommended listening: granite by sleep token

authors note: i'm pretty sure I had planned for this to take place at reader's parent's wedding but i never specified so it's just some fancy event they planned lmfao, enjoy <333

“Quit starin’.” Your father whispered into Joel’s ear, following his eyes to you, his daughter, across the room. “Let's not have a problem tonight.”

“I ain’t.” Joel grunted, taking a sip of the whiskey in his hand as he continued to watch you. “We won’t have any problems.”

He’d spent most of the night trying to decide if you’d worn any underwear under the dress, with a slit that ended right under your hip he was convinced you weren’t but then you’d turn a specific way and he swore he could make out a line. The low neckline left nothing to the imagination and only added to the torture you were putting Joel through at the hands of fashion, he never knew he could be so turned on by someone your age but here he was with a rock hard cock, staring like a creep.

“Whoever that guy with your dad is has been staring at you all night.” One of the girls you’d been standing with spoke, a hint of jealousy in her voice.

You turned your head around, making eye contact with Joel, and looking him up and down. You couldn’t deny the attraction you had for him, and the dark red suit your father had picked out to match the same red of the dresses your mom had picked out wasn’t helping at all. He looked you up and down before making eye contact with you again, taking another sip of his whiskey, and twirling a finger around.

“Joel? He’s probably on a secret mission to keep an eye on me.” You joked, acting like you had stepped on your dress as an excuse to spin around without anyone suspecting anything.

“He can keep an eye on me.” A different girl responded, giggling as they continued to joke about him.

He could’ve orgasmed right then and there as you spun around, the two of you hadn’t spoken all night and yet here you were entertaining him. His glass of whiskey was almost empty, if he played his cards right maybe he’d be able to get you alone, away from the annoying girls you’d been around all night.

You watched him glance at his glass before heading off to what you assumed was the kitchen, he hadn’t made any signal for you to follow but this was your moment.

“What would my dear father think if he knew his best friend was eyeing up his daughter?” You whispered, coming up behind Joel and dragging your nails down his back.

“Does his dear daughter care?” Joel whispered back, setting his glass down and turning around to face you. “Seemed like you quite enjoyed it.”

He trailed a finger over the neckline of your dress, hooking it under the fabric and exposing one of your breasts. A low groan escaped his throat, accompanied by him fixing his suit pants. His fingers found your nipple, rolling and tugging it slightly.

“Seems to me you’re enjoying it a whole bunch.” He chuckled, using his other hand to tilt your chin up, leaning down so your lips were inches apart.

“Fuck, Joel-”

He smashed his lips against yours, swallowing every whimper escaping your lips, pulling the other side of your dress down to expose both breasts. Your hands made quick work of unbuttoning his suit jacket, pulling it off of him and throwing it on the floor, before moving to his dress shirt.

“Naughty girl, lettin’ some old man touch you in a kitchen at your parent’s party.” He spoke against your lips, shoving your dress down to your hips and taking a step back to admire you. “God you’re fuckin’ pretty.”

“Joel, please.” You whined, grabbing at the last few buttons left on his shirt desperately as if it was going to get them unbuttoned faster.

“I haven’t even touched you yet and you’re already beggin’. Fuckin’ whore.” He chuckled, helping you unbutton his shirt and tossing it to the side with his jacket. “Need some dick, huh?”

You shook your head, shoving the rest of the dress over your hips and onto the floor, grabbing his head and smashing your lips back together. His fingers danced their way down your skin, memorizing every bump and curve in the chance that he wouldn’t get to do this again, making their way under your thighs and lifting you onto the counter behind him.

He trailed a finger up and down your folds, gathering your wetness and bringing it to his mouth, groaning at the taste. The sensation of his finger slowly pushing in and out was so overwhelming, you were practically floating on cloud nine and there was nothing you’d change about it.

“Tell me how bad you want it.” Joel rasped, lips pressed up against your ear, removing the rest of his clothing. “Tell daddy how bad you need it.”

“Daddy, please…fuck- need it so bad.” Your words were barely audible, desperate and whiny.

The feeling of his cock pushing inside of you had you throwing your head back, hand slapped over your mouth to muffle any and all noise he’d pull out of you. He pulled back out slowly, watching your pussy grip his cock as he pushed back in. Forbidden sex had never felt so good, he’d find any and every reason to visit you after tonight if he could experience this again. His beard scratched against your neck as he bent over, pulling your body closer to him, sucking and biting at the skin he could reach.

“God, I could make you a fuckin’ mom.” Joel groaned, leaning his head further into the crook of your neck. “Look so fuckin’ pretty, full of my babies.”

“Daddy-”

“That’s right, say my name, baby.” He switched the arm that was bearing your weight and brought the newly freed hand to your hair, tugging it back enough so he could see your face.

His hips pistoned in and out, cock reaching places you didn’t even know it could, but if you told him that he’d make a joke about you not sleeping with a real man like him. He placed wet kisses down your neck and all the way down to your nipples, sucking on them in turns.

“Joel, please, I’m so close..” You cried, eyes filled to the brim with tears that threatened to spill at any moment.

“That’s too damn bad, because that’s not my name.” He chuckled, evilly, wiping away the tears that had slid down your cheeks. “Try again, I know you can do it, baby.”

“Daddy, daddy please.”

“Good girl.”

He brought his thumb down to your clit, drawing figure eights in time with his thrusts, coaxing your orgasm right out of you. You slumped into him as it hit you, body shaking as it made its way through you. He continued to thrust into you, chasing his own white, hot high. Your small whimpers as you came back to the world was enough to send Joel over the edge, painting your insides a nice milky white. His own body slumping into yours as he recovered from the pleasure.

“Did such a good job, darlin’.” He praised, smoothing your hair down as you continued your way out of cloud nine. “Did so good for me.”

You gave him a weak smile, smoothing the hairs that were stuck to his sweaty forehead back to their spot. He sat you back down on the counter and filled his glass up with water before handing it to you, the aftertaste of whiskey was enough to perk you right up.

Joel helped you back into your dress, fixing your hair to cover the hickeys that were soon to appear, sliding your underwear back up but making sure to push his cum back inside of you before sliding them all the way up.

“C’mon, we got speeches to make.”

#maddies fics #joel miller fluff #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller #joel tlou #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #tlou hbo #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #pedro x reader #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fandom

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endlessthxxghts · 4 days

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Just One

DBF!Joel Miller x afab!reader | w/c: 819 (she just a baby!)

Summary: You’re still worked up even though Joel’s tapped out for the night. Maybe you need a kiss to satisfy you—a simple, sweet kiss. Right?

Content/Tags: Reader is able-bodied and has female sex anatomy, but is otherwise undescribed. Pussy pronouns (she)!! 18+ MDNI. Making out. Bulge grinding 😋 let me know if there’s anything I missed!

A/N: @pinkypromisepascal and I had a conversation…and then I said I wanted to write a drabble based on what we talked about, to which she said “DO IT.” So I did. Y’all better thank her brain for this too!🙂‍↕️ and to @strang3lov3, thank you for the extra pair of eyes AND THE MOODBOARD!!!😭 I love you both so much. To everyone, I hope you enjoy, all my love xx

masterlist | update blog

It’s been thirty minutes.

Thirty minutes since Joel had you folded nearly in half, your legs pressed against your torso, the slam of his hips pushing you higher up his mattress.

Thirty minutes since he made your eyes roll back, throat burning in pleasure.

Thirty minutes since he wiped you clean and massaged your hips.

It’s been thirty minutes.

And he’s knocked the fuck out.

You sit up in his bed. You’re not here very often. Ever, really. It was by chance you stayed over tonight. So you study the area. Take his space in. The painting and posters above his bed. The nightstand. The white fan sitting on his dresser, pointing directly at him. He runs hot when he sleeps. Too hot.

Your eyes trace his figure, then. His broad back on display, hips covered by his sheets.

His face. God, his face. Salt and pepper scruff around the edges, smile lines and furrowed eyebrow lines adorning his face. They’re not as harsh now as he succumbs deeper into his slumber, but they’re present nonetheless.

His hooked nose sits prettily, the same nose that had you squirming and gasping for air earlier in the night. Your core flutters at the thought.

You’re looking at his lips now, and you can’t help the way your own forms a smirk.

“Joel,” you whisper.

A rock. Unmoving. Unfazed.

On your knees now, you shuffle to face him. Leaning forward, hand on his shoulder to nudge him, you try again.

“Joel.”

“Hm?” his sleepy voice rasps.

“I need your help,” you respond.

One eye peels open. His eyebrows move into their natural habitat, furrowed. “What’s wrong, darlin’?”

You put on your sweetest face. “Can I have a kiss?”

You stifle a giggle at the daggers being thrown at you. “Jesus,” he mutters. “Have you been up this whole time?”

“It’s been thirty minutes,” you retort.

“No, it ain’t—” you gesture to his clock before he can finish his thought. He faces it immediately, throwing his face back into his pillow with an incoherent grumble. “Sleep,” he finally says.

“I will, sleeping beauty,” you giggle. “Can I please have a kiss first? Just one,” you ask again, lowering your voice an octave, a tone he can never deny.

He flips himself over, so he’s more on his back now. “It’s never just one.”

“That’s not true,” you fake pout, leaning closer in, letting the tips of your nose dance.

“You said one kiss months ago. Look where that got us.” His breath fans against your lips.

“I don’t see you complaining,” you whisper, your body on fire with this conversation.

You let your lips finally meet, soft and sweet, but the heat building in your cheeks keeps you from breaking the seal. Without thinking, you climb on top of him, straddling him as your hands find the base of his neck, the length beneath you already beginning to stir.

You break away for less than a second before you bring your lips to his again, but he’s quick to stop you, a shit-eating grin between his cheeks. “Thought ya said one?” He breathes.

“Shut up,” you murmur, smashing your lips against his once more as your tongue coasts the expanse of his bottom lip, the taste of you from earlier still lingering.

“Shit, sugar,” he groans into your mouth, his hips bucking into you on their own accord. “She’s still so needy, ain’t she? That why ya can’t sleep?”

His bulge catches perfectly where you need him most, pulling a whimper from the back of your throat. “Please, baby,” you pant.

“Told ya ‘s never jus’ one kiss,” he rasps as his heavy hands grab at your waist, guiding your hips into a more frenzied rhythm.

“You’re right,” you cry, eyes clamping shut, nothing but the sweet sounds of your ecstasy blessing his ears.

Too blissed out to continue kissing him, you bring your lips to his jaw, nipping and licking the places you can reach. With a few harsh grinds of your hips, you’re moaning out into his ear—his partially deaf one, luckily—with millions of white sparkles flashing beneath your eyelids. Joel’s breathing stops at the same moment your body convulses, strangled grunts leaving his throat as he adds to your mess of his boxers.

“She satisfied, yet?” He hums as you lay across his sweaty chest.

“Mmm,” you pretend to think it over. “I think it’s her turn for a kiss now.”

Joel scoffs. You can hear his smile with it.

You lift your head to look him in the eyes, a faux innocence in the way you jut out your bottom lip. “Just one, baby,” you reason with him.

Joel tosses you to your unspoken side of the bed. “Sleep.”

“But—”

“She’ll get her kiss in the morning.”

Your eyes nearly pop out at the realization of his words. “G-Goodnight, baby,” you reply quickly.

“‘S what I thought. G’night, darlin’.”

I would love to hear what you guys think! I love you all so much, thank you for always sticking by my side and supporting me always. You all are my happy place. Wouldn't be where I am without you.🩶

I cannot get myself to write for Joel or for TLOU without mentioning the horrors occurring in Palestine. Please check out the links in my navigation + bio to learn about the situation in Palestine and also learn about some ways in which you can help🇵🇸. Reading and interacting with those links takes 5 minutes of your time at the bare minimum.

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joelsgreys · 7 months

Text

strawberry

Daddy Dom! Joel Miller x Sub! Female Reader

summary: You feel ashamed for using your safe word with Joel during a session—he assures you you’re his good girl no matter what.

warnings/tags: 18+ only, MINORS DNI. (TW) daddy kink, lots of dd/lg lifestyle elements, reader is collared (day collar) age gap that is self indulgent, reader is mid to late 20’s and Joel is in his 50’s but tweak that to your imaginations if you like. SMUT; p in v sex, rough sex (that reader asks to try), spanking, possible overstimulation (if you squint??) Joel basically fucks reader too much and too hard. USE OF SAFE WORD. aftercare and lots of fluff, references to a pop culture film that i haven’t seen in forever but it’s fine. PLEASE BE MINDFUL OF TAGS AND WARNINGS. if this isn’t your thing, no worries just scroll on by.

MOODBOARD FOR AESTHETIC PURPOSES ONLY, READER HAS NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION.

word count: 2.4k

a/n: this is totally self indulgent, all for me as someone who has dabbled in the lifestyle before. if this is not your thing, no problem at all but kindly keep any negative comments to yourself. huge shoutout to the lovely @swiftispunk for inspiring this with the snippets of her own upcoming series that i am oh so excited for, darling han thank you for not only inspiring this, but for listening to me talk about it and encouraging it! and also to sweet mya @cavillscurls because truth be told her own fic brought back so many memories of a time in my life where i was genuinely so happy, in love, and felt safe with a partner. okay, i am gonna run away to the gym now to listen to 1989 tv (again) and pretend posting this is not nerve wracking as hell.

He’s fucked you plenty of times before.

But never like this. No, never, ever like this.

He’s relentless.

His thrusts are coming quicker, sloppier, harsher.

It doesn’t hurt, but it’s intense. Too intense.

Joel Miller is truly testing your limits tonight.

No, he was pushing you past your limits.

Because that’s what you’d asked him to do.

“Alright, sweet girl. This is the last time I’m gonna ask you before we get started. Are you absolutely, one hundred—no, one thousand percent sure that you wanna try this out tonight?” he had asked you beforehand, skimming the strap of your light pink, lace lingerie with his index finger, his feathery soft touch sending a plesant little chill down the length of your spinal column. Of all the sets you owned, it had to be Joel’s absolute favorite. Normally, it was him who would pick out what you would wear, but tonight he’d decided to let you choose for yourself and oh, you did not disappoint. He fucking adored you in the color pink; loved how sickeningly sweet, precious, and innocent you appeared in the hue as you did the filthiest things to him, with him. When you nodded eagerly in reply to his question, a sigh fell from his lips, the doubt written all over his face as he remarked, “I really don’t think you’re ready. I think we should wait just a little a while longer.”

“I’m ready,” you’d insisted, stubbornly. “I promise. I wouldn’t be asking for it if I thought I wasn’t. But I am, I promise, promise, promise I am.”

“Daddy knows what’s best for you, sweetheart—”

Fingers curled around his bicep, you’d batted your eyelashes, giving him those eyes that brought him down to his knees for you a lot more often than he cared to admit, those eyes that made Joel feel like he was learning his role all over again, despite over two decades of experience under his belt. He used to pride himself for his ability to stand firm against pouting lips, fluttering lashes, and pleading gazes. And then you come along and suddenly it’s like he is in his thirties again and he’s navigating this kind of dynamic for the first time. Even after a year and a half with you, he’s still trying to figure out how to completely unwrap himself from your little finger.

“Please? Pretty please with a cherry on top?”

Christ, you made things so goddamn difficult.

“You really think you’re gonna be able to handle it? You think you’re gonna be able to handle me when I get real rough with you, baby? Hm?”

Without missing a beat, you replied, “Yes, Daddy. I can handle it. I know I can.”

You had been so certain that you could.

Confident, even. So confident that when he began going over the rules and reminded you to use your safe word if you needed him to stop, you’d giggled and stated, “I’ve never needed to use it before and I don’t plan on using it tonight.”

Oh, how very wrong you had been about it all.

You’d overestimated yourself, and underestimated Joel. Severely.

His hips snap roughly into yours without an ounce of mercy, over and over, again and again. Beads of perspiration start trailing their way down the sides of his face, the tip of his nose. His chest is flushed, red, and also slicked with a thin sheen of sweat.

You’ve already shattered, unraveled, come undone all over his cock several times—every time with his granted permission, of course. Because you knew better than to come without Daddy’s permission.

Your cunt is swollen, sensitive, too sensitive and at a point where it could start aching if he doesn’t let up soon. However, it seems like Joel’s only getting rougher and rougher as he chases another release.

“Joel—Daddy,” you manage to correct yourself at the very last second through a slew of frantic little gasps for air. “Daddy, please! Daddy please—”

His large hand tightens around both of your wrists pinned to the mattress above your head. Surely he must think you’re begging him for more, when the reality is you’re about to start begging him to stop because it’s just too much and you can’t handle it; but there’s a part of you that doesn’t want to stop, the part of you that doesn’t want to disappoint the man who means the whole, entire world to you.

The man you belonged to, the man you loved.

Even through the haze, you try telling yourself that it’s all mind over matter, mind over matter, mind—

“Stop,” you whine, squirming underneath him. “I—can’t take it anymore, Daddy, I can’t take it—!”

Releasing your wrists, Joel pulls himself out of you and you breathe out in relief, until he flips you over onto your stomach without warning. You let out an audibly loud gasp when his hands reach down and take your hips, pulling them up off his bed, putting you on your hands and knees. He brings down one of his hands on your ass in a stinging slap. “That is just too bad, ‘cause Daddy ain’t done with you yet, darlin’ girl. Not even close to bein’ done with you.” Wrapping his other hand around his base, he grins to himself as he glides the head of his cock up and down your slick folds. When it grazes your clit, you jerk forward, away from him, and he tuts, bringing you back to him, his fingers digging into the pillow soft flesh of your hips. “Oh no baby, you ain’t goin’ anywhere.”

“But Daddy, I just can’t—”

You’re cut off by your own cry when you feel Joel’s length stretching your walls all over again. It’s just too much.

And you really, really can’t.

He leans over you and presses his lips to your ear. “You asked for this, didn’tcha? Asked to be fucked like a big girl, huh?” He bucks forward into you, eliciting another strangled cry followed by a string of pathetic whimpers. Bringing his palm down in a second strike, he demands, “Answer me when I’m takin’ to you. You wanted this, said that you could handle Daddy bein’ rough with you, ain’t that right now?”

“Strawberry.” You say the word so quietly, you can hardly hear it over the ringing in your ears.

Joel spanks you for a third time, in the exact same spot—so hard, there was simply no way you would wake up without a mark in the morning. “I need’ya to speak up. You’re such a big girl after all—”

“Strawberry!” You grasp fistfuls of bedsheets and the signal for it all to end tears itself from the back of your throat. “Strawberry, Joel! Strawberry!”

It’s only a millisecond that he freezes, if that.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Joel curses under his breath, pulling out of you. The bed shifts as he climbs off of it and scrambles to pull on his sweatpants before he’s at your side—you’re still on your hands and knees, an unmistakable look of panic on your face. He puts a gentle hand on your back. “Baby, are you alright?”

Your heart is pounding, your breathing labored but you manage a small, tight nod of your head. “I-I’m fine. I just—” Stopping, you grip the sheets tighter, warm tears brimming your eyes. Shame over what you’ve just done is already creeping in and sinking into your bones.

“Are you hurt, sweetheart? Did I hurt you?”

Joel’s voice is calm, but you can hear the concern that laces his tone.

“No.” Your own voice is small. “No. You didn’t hurt me.”

“Is it alright if I move you?” he asks. When you nod your head, he reaches out for you and helps you to sit on the side of the bed. Dropping to his knees in front of you, he takes your hands and his and feels his stomach sink when he realizes they’re ice cold; he begins rubbing them between his own to warm them up. “Baby if I hurt you, you need to tell m—”

“I promise, you didn’t hurt me,” you reassure him, swallowing the thickness rising in the back of your throat. You clock the skepticism in his dark brown eyes and a tear slips out, rolls down your face, and splatters onto your bare thigh. “I’m not lying, Joel. I swear.” Tugging one of your hands out of his, you reach up and instinctively clasp it around the blue sapphire pendant hanging from the delicate, gold chain around your neck—he’d presented you with his birthstone last year, not only as a symbol of his ownership of you, but also as a beautiful reminder of your commitment to one another. “You believe me, don’t you? You believe I’m telling the truth?”

Joel’s expression softens. “‘Course I do, baby.” He cups the side of your face gently, brushing away a second teardrop with his thumb. “But I’d really like to know what happened so I can figure out how to best help, okay? Can you tell me what happened?”

Embarrassed, you try turning your head away, but he holds your cheek in his hand, gentle but firm.

“S’okay. You can talk to me,” he encourages softly, his gaze meeting yours once again. “Tell me.”

“It was just too much,” you mumble, meekly. “And too intense.” Heat floods your face as you admit to him, “You were right. I just wasn’t—I wasn’t ready for that yet.”

In an effort to lighten your mood, Joel lightly gives your cheek a delicate pinch and chuckles.

“Daddy’s got that real annoyin’ habit of bein’ right ‘bout a lot of things, don’t he?”

“I’m sorry.” Your bottom lip quivers. “I’m so sorry.”

His smile falters. “Sorry for what?”

“For using the safe word—”

Joel’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Y’know you ain’t supposed to apologize for needin’ to use your safe word, right? That ain’t how it works, darlin’.”

Dropping your necklace, you place your hand over his on your cheek. “But I feel bad,” you confess. “It makes me feel like—like I let you down, you know? And that’s the last thing I want to do. I just wanted to be really good for you.”

“Oh baby.” Joel lifts himself from the floor. He sits on the bed and pulls you onto his lap, brushing his lips against your temple. “You are such a good girl for me, sweetheart.”

“But I couldn’t take it,” you sniff. “I had to stop.”

“And that’s okay,” he assures you. He wraps you in his arms and gives your body a gentle squeeze. “It ain’t nothin’ to be ashamed ‘bout. You’re still really new to a lot of this stuff, y’know? S’why I told you I didn’t think you were ready.”

“I should’ve listened to you.”

He winks. “You should always listen to Daddy.”

You offer him a tiny, watery smile. “I know.”

“And say we try this again one day and it’s just not somethin’ you like or that makes you feel good—or maybe you never wanna try it again at all,” he says with a nonchalant shrug. “That’s okay too. You are still my good girl no matter what—my perfect girl. Always. You understand me?”

“Really? You promise?”

Joel holds up his pinky.

“Oh, you’re being really serious,” you tease him.

“Sure as hell am, darlin’.”

You lock your finger around his and he pulls you in for a sweet kiss.

“I love you, Joel,” you murmur against his lips. You giggle again when he clears his throat and smacks your ass lightly, playfully. “I love you, Daddy.”

“I love you too, baby.” Joel pulls away and touches the tip of his nose to yours. “How’s ‘bout we get in the bath and get all cleaned up? Hm?”

“A bath?” You instantly perk up. “With bubbles?”

“With bubbles. And I’ll even let you throw in one of those smelly ball things you fuckin’ love so much.”

You swat at his chest. “Hey! My bath bombs smell really good, thank you very much!”

Joel doesn’t particularly like emerging from a bath smelling like a petunia, but for you, he’s more than happy to bathe in a sea of them, glitter and all.

You trace his collarbone with your index finger.

“Daddy? After our bath can we just cuddle in bed? Maybe watch a movie?” He raises an eyebrow and you smile sheepishly, adding, “Please?”

“‘Course. Pick any movie you want, sweetheart.”

“And can we have ice cream while we watch too?”

He pins you with a stern look. “Alright, now you’re just pushin’ it and takin’ advantage.”

You jut your lower lip. “Please, Daddy?”

There’s no arguing with that, not tonight.

Joel decides to let you have your way. “Alright.”

The two of you spend quite some time in the bath; normally a bath together ends with him inside you all over again, but tonight, all he’s doing is running a soapy wash cloth with your favorite shower gel—japanese cherry blossom—all over your body as he sits behind you, lips pressed against your ear. Joel washes you slowly, carefully, and all the while he’s whispering sweet, tender praise.

My good girl.

My perfect girl.

I’m s’proud of you.

I’m the luckiest man in the whole world.

After the bath, once you’re both dried and dressed in comfortable clothes—him in a clean pair of gray sweatpants and you in nothing but his t-shirt, Joel gives you the remote and instructs you to pick out a movie to watch.

“Make yourself real comfortable, baby,” he says to you, kissing the top of your head. “I’ll be back with that ice cream.”

You shoot him a hopeful glance. “Strawberry?”

“You tryin’ to be funny with me, darlin’?”

“No! That’s just my favorite flavor, silly.”

Joel grins to himself as he leaves the bedroom.

He knows that. Of course he knows that.

It’s why he always keeps a pint of it in his freezer.

You hop into bed and pull the blankets around you as your scan through the guide for a movie—you’d just decided on The Notebook when Joel appears again, a bowl and two spoons in his hands.

“You picked The Notebook again, didn’t you?” he asks without even looking at the flat screen that’s mounted on his wall over the fireplace.

“You said I could pick any movie I wanted.”

“Was just hopin’ you’d pick one we haven’t seen a thousand times,” he chuckled, sliding into his bed next to you. Joel places the bowl of strawberry ice cream in his lap and hands you a spoon. “C’mere, my sweet girl. Come closer.”

You snuggle up to him, and the two of you dig into the frozen dessert as the movie begins to play.

“Baby?” Joel speaks after a while, just as Allie and Noah share a passionate kiss in the pouring rain.

“Hm?” you ask, your fixed eyes on the flat screen, your mouth full of ice cream.

“You sure you’re okay?”

Swallowing, you look up at Joel, meeting his gaze.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” you answer honestly.

“‘Cause if there’s anythin’ else I can do for you…”

You purse your lips together and let out a tiny hum as you mull it over for a moment.

“You can hold me closer?” you finally suggest.

Joel shifts in his spot. “I can definitely do that—”

You stop him and point to the empty bowl.

“After you go and get us some more ice cream?”

He exhales an amused snort through his nose and shuffles out of bed, taking the bowl with him.

“Don’t get so used to bossin’ Daddy around,” Joel warns you playfully over his shoulder.

“Too late.”

divider credit to @saradika 🍓

#tw daddy kink #tw: daddy kink #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fluff #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller one shot #joel miller drabble #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader

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im-constantly-fangirling · 3 days

Text

Joel Miller Snippet

A/N: Hey! I'm starting to dabble in some tlou fics but it's gonna be a long one! I've got a snippet of it below the cut, feel free to send your opinions my way :) It's kind of an au but like not really, idk how to describe it. Like there's no outbreak but Joel still finds his way to Jackson with Ellie.

au!Joel Miller x afab!reader

Warnings: none in the snippet

Summary: As a bartender, you know every single face in Jackson. When a grumpy but kind-at-heart traveler makes his way into the diner you work at, you can't help but be curious.

Working at the diner in Jackson was no easy job.

The one benefit you found with being a bartender was information. Every small town had its fair share of gossip, and Jackson definitely delivered. Travelers came and went, and those who stayed would alter the social routine of Jackson just a little bit. You were a town full of shattered pieces of what were once whole people, but those pieces of glass joined to make a stunning mosaic- no matter how jagged and uneven it was.

You were cleaning a glass with a rag when Tommy and the man walked up to the bar. “Y/n, I’d like you to meet my brother, Joel.”

Holding his gaze, you almost saw the emptiness behind them. As if he had nothing left in him. This was a man who had seen hell.

Tommy sat on the bar stool and leaned his head in his hand. “And I’ll take some gin, please.”

“-she’s everything to me, Tommy. I’ll take some of her shifts. After everything she’s gone through, she deserves to just relax,” you heard Joel say.

Tommy lightly hummed. “As long as the patrols get done, I don’t think that’ll be an issue.” He paused. “Just…be careful, Joel. People around here are really close knit. You don’t want to go around pissing people off by being all-”

“Pissy?” Joel finished, taking a sip of his whiskey. “Look, I don’t plan on staying long, anyway. I’ll get out of your hair-”

“Ma’am, can I get another?” you heard a man’s voice call out. He was almost slumped against the bar, his hand held up limply in the air.

You wiped the back of your hand against your forehead. “Bill, I don’t know if that’s such a good idea,” you trailed off.

Bill’s sweaty hands grab your arm. “What the fuck did you say?”

You felt your palms start sweating. “Bill,” you said calmly. “Get a hold of yourself, okay? You don’t gotta be like this.”

One of Bill’s hands let go of your arm in favor of roughly grabbing your chin. You closed your eyes and tried turning away from his grip, but his alcohol-ridden mind had no semblance of propriety, and he held your chin and cheeks in a vice-like grip. “Listen here, you insolent-”

“Hey!” another voice boomed. It was rough, like the feeling of the tough boar bristles on your hair comb. Joel. “Don’t touch her!”

...

Lmk what you guys think! Hopefully I can put it out soon <3

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller fluff #the last of us

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builtaworldwithyourlove · 2 days

Text

I Forget Where We Were

1.2k/ joel miller x f!reader / MINORS DNI

summary: life with Joel from the start. Be kind please- this is my first piece and has taken 6 months of courage🤍

Chapter Six: Time is Dancing

Hold it in, now let’s go dancing. I do believe we’re only passing through.

what to expect: Wholesome evenings with loverboy and the sweet precious angel baby. Unfortunately, we are it’s time for some angst

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

As you came out of the office, Joel and Sarah hung out of the truck windows, beeping and waving at you.

Laura, your work bestie, nudged you ‘Okay,now when are you planning on filling me in on the absolute hottie’

You waved back at Joel and kissed Laura on the cheek as you hugged her goodbye ‘Lunchtime, tomorrow.’

She squealed gleefully.

‘Love ya!’ You both shouted in unison and waved with your fingers.

Sarah was wriggling in her seat, so excited to see you& Joel got out the truck to kiss you hello. You wore cream coloured cigarette trousers, which sat above your ankles and complimented your anklet. This was paired with a blue and white striped shirt and your oversized tote and matching cream loafers. Joel had to bite his tongue, as he instantly fought the urge to tear your clothes off and devour you.

Sarah asked all about your day and you asked all about hers. ‘I wish I could come to work with you, it’s so much better than school’ Sarah sighed.

‘My job is boring baby girl, you’d have more fun working with your Daddy’ you looked at Joel and squeezed his thigh.

‘All Daddy does his hit things with a hammer and screw wood into things’ Sarah sighed.

You cackled at the double entendre that Sarah didn’t quite understand. Joel rolled his eyes replying ‘At least I don’t stare at a screen all day pretending to get shit done.’

‘Oooooooh’ you and Sarah teased in unison.

‘That’s 10 bucks for the swear jar Mr Miller’ you tutted, taking two 5 dollar bills out his wallet, handing one to Sarah and tucking one in your purse.

Joel tried to pretend he was angry, but the way you flicked the hair of your shoulders and grinned at him cut through his tough exterior.

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

The three of you made it home and you helped Sarah with her homework whilst Joel mowed the lawn.

You greeted him with a beer when he came in, and kissed him, with a subtle lip bite. He growled quietly into your mouth and you started to make dinner whilst him and Sarah watched TV.

You danced around the kitchen dancing to Hozier, with a glass of red wine in hand. Joel leaned back on the sofa, straining his neck, just to watch you through the double doors that connected the kitchen to the living room. Sarah heard a song that you hummed whilst you painted her nails, she ran to see you and you picked her up and twirled her around on your hip and sang with her.

You both giggled quietly, and Joel couldn’t take his eyes off you.

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

‘Are you and Daddy having a sleepover tonight?’Sarah batted her eyelashes hoping you’d say yes.

Joel nodded eagerly at you.

‘Why don’t I go home, get my stuff and then I’ll come and stay?’ you crouched down beside Sarah and negotiated.

She ran a lap round the living room , elated at the fact she would get another bed time story with you.

‘I’ll see you soon’ you planted a kiss to her forehead and then held Joel before walking back home to grab your overnight bag and your car.

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

You pulled up outside and Joel ran to let you in. Sarah finished up her bath and you helped her brush her teeth. You pottered around the house tidying up after dinner, and packed Sarah’s school bag,

‘I could get used to having you around’ Joel swooned.

‘You’d get bored of me before I have the chance to unpack’ you jested.

The cogs in Joel’s head were turning as he thought of the perfect way to give you a spare key.

You read The Velveteen Rabbit to Sarah and Joel listened closely in the hallway, hidden out of view.

You tucked her up, kissed her goodnight and shut the door softly. Joel grabbed you around the waist, and pulled you into him.

‘Shall we get ready for a night of crappy TV?’ Joel began unbuttoning his shirt and lifted his faded black t shirt over his head, revealing an olive skinned stomach, chiselled down to his hips, and airbrushed in a layer of fine dark hair.

He pinned you against the banisters and pressed his lips against your neck as he carried you into his bathroom. He turned on the shower, and after bickering about the perfect temperature, Joel compromised and you had the shower how you liked it.

He lathered up his hands in your lavender shower gel, and washed every inch of your body. Intimately and delicately,placing soft kisses over your neck and chest. You wrapped your arms round him and stood under the rainfall, taking in his scent and letting the droplets fall from the bridge of his nose down your cheek.

You cupped Joel’s face in your hands, and traced his lips with your tongue. He grabbed a towel and wrapped you up in his arms.

‘Let’s get you cosy, baby’ Joel whispered in your ear, and hooked his pinky under the towel and removed it from your body. He sat on the edge of the bath drying off, as he watched you like a hawk as you rubbed in some cocoa butter.

Joel went into his bedroom and grabbed his glasses and a throw blanket, and you met him downstairs on the sofa with two mugs of chamomile tea.

You sat down with your back to the arm of the chair and your legs wide. You patted your chest as invitation for Joel to lay on you. In your usual tv watching spot, you stroked Joel’s curls as he drew circles on your thighs. His hand fell limp after 20 minutes,a sign he was deep in sleep.

With extreme caution , you slid out from under Joel and headed to bed, where you fell asleep on your own.

It was 11:16pm, and in your absence, Joel woke up in a panic. He bounded up the stairs, and rolled into bed next to you. He took you in his big arms, swept your hair off your neck and behind your shoulders, and kissed you goodnight. His arms slumped over your waist, and he set an alarm on his phone for 5am for you to get up and get ready for work in time.

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

Joel’s phone flashed and buzzed with your morning alarm, as you slouched across him to turn it off.

You pressed the off button, and his lockscreen lit up. In front of the photo of him& Sarah, you noticed a notification that made your heart stop beating.

Mia:

‘Everything’s all sorted for my visit this weekend, we still on? Missing you🫶🏼

It must have been record timing between you reading that message and doing your hair and makeup and leaving for work, just to get out that house. Before you went,you checked on Sarah, ran down to make her lunch, making sure Joel realised that there was only lunch for one and you were long gone.

You signed a post it and left it on the fridge

‘Enjoy your lunch princess, and have a good day. Love you❤️’

‘Joel, send my love to Mia.’

Adrenaline pumped through your blood as you pulled up to work, texting Laura to come down to the front and meet you for a coffee.

Incoming Call: Joel

Just as you expected, he would be awake and downstairs by now.

You silenced your phone, and filled Laura in on everything.

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter

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talaok · 19 days

Note

PostOutbreak!Joel likes reader but he tries to hide it because of the age gap. To try and put us off, he can be a bit standoffish/mean but Ellie can tell it’s a facade and tells him to drop it and the age thing doesn’t matter if you really like each other. Then a fluffy confession omggg

Pairing: PostOutbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

Warnings: unspecified age gap, joel being a lil insecure and scared, and Ellie being a menace, but its mostly all fluff who am i kidding

a/n: this was the cutest fucking request ever, thank you anon

You know those books or movies where it's painfully clear to everyone but the two main characters that they love each other, and you keep reading or watching thinking "How could anyone not see that he likes her?" as you increasingly get more frustrated and annoyed?

Well, this is a bit like that,

not a bit actually, completely so.

And in this metaphor, you and Joel were the two oblivious main characters, while Ellie, poor Ellie, was the unfortunate witness of your blindness.

It was so incredibly clear to her that she sometimes struggled not to laugh at your interactions.

I mean the first time Joel saw you was the very first time she'd seen him blush and forget how to speak in the span of a second- it was hilarious.

And then when he'd catch him staring at you or pretend not to purposely take the longer route home just to catch a glimpse of you outside the bakery... it was hard to only chuckle underneath her breath, but she managed...

until today

Joel slammed the door as he got it, like really loud, not like his usual slam.

"what's wrong?" Ellie asked, her brows frowning in suspicion as he kicked his boots off his feet before halfheartedly dragging them to the kitchen where she was sitting.

"nothin'" he grumbled,

Now that made Ellie sigh with annoyance,

he was always the one to blab about how she could always confide in him, and if that was the truth, then that meant it went both ways.

"Y'know a grumpy old man once told me that it's good to share how you're feeling" She tilted her head to the side, raising her brow as Joel rolled his eyes, filling a glass with water "Would be real hypocritical of him to not take his own advice..."

Said old man, was now rolling his eyes even harder, drowning the full glass in a second

"'s nothing, don't worry 'bout it"

"Joel" Ellie only glared at him,

and as always when it was her,

he was convinced faster than he liked to admit

He sighed, before speaking "It's stupid" he said

"I don't care" Ellie shrugged, placing her elbows on the kitchen counter where she sat and using her hands to support her head, her whole focus on Joel,

who sighed, again.

"I just-" he placed the glass in the sink before turning back to her "I just saw y/n talking to I guy I-"

"Oh my god you're jealous!" she said it with such enthusiasm and with such a smile pulling at her lips that you would have guessed she'd just won the lottery

"no" Joel frowned, shaking his head "What are you on about? I'm not jealous, I just don't like the guy"

"yeah" Ellie snorted "I'm sure you just "don't like the guy"" she air quoted as she laughed

"Why would I be jealous?" Joel went on pretending,

perhaps lying to himself together with her, the jury was still out.

"I'm just worried for her-" he argued "she's too kind and too fucking nice and Jake's an asshole"

again, Ellie only smiled as she watched him lie so blatantly

"why would you be jealous?" she pondered his question with amusement "well I don't know... maybe 'cause you have the biggest fucking crush on her"

"What!?" he spat "I don't know what's going on with you today, where did you get all these ideas? I-"

"Oh my god please shut up Joel" she groaned, rolling her eyes "That rude asshole act you do around y/n may work with her, but you don't fool me, Miller"

Ellie could swear she saw a hint of panic in his eyes

"I know you like her, just like I know she likes you" She finally said, done with this little act "I honestly don't get why you two don't just declare your love to one another and live happily ever after or some shit"

It was like he froze,

and while Ellie thought it was because he'd just been busted by a 14-year-old, it was for a wholly different reason

"she doesn't like me" he stated

And at that, at that Ellie could just groan as her palm descended dramatically down the length of her face

God, she'd always known he wasn't the brightest, but this? This is a little too much even for him

"Are you blind or something?" she threw her hands out for emphasis "She's definitely better at hiding it than you, I'll give you that, but I mean, still... it's fucking obvious dude!"

"Ellie" Joel only shook his head "you 'don't know whatcha talkin' 'bout"

Ellie was now very close to yelling at him.

"Joel I'm serious, she likes likes you!" she argued, "why do you find that so hard to believe?"

But of course, Ellie couldn't have known what was going on in Joel's mind, how certain he was that it wasn't true,

about how he knew he didn't deserve someone like you, someone so kind and beautiful and smart,

how he had spent months trying to get the thought of you to leave his tainted mind,

how he'd decided to be mean, rough, rude to you in the hopes that you would stop being so nice to him, in the hopes that you would start to avoid him, to hate him, and he'd never have to see you or that gorgeous smile again.

And finally, Ellie didn't know about how he was too incredibly, terribly old for you, for such a pretty young woman.

Half his hair was gray for god's sake, he never had a chance

"I could be her father Ellie" he finally confessed what had been eating up at him for so long "I'm too fuckin' old"

Ellie didn't even need a moment to take that it, she listened, thought about it, and immediately rolled her eyes

"SO WHAT?"

You don't understand how long she had to pretend not to want to give the both of you a good shake,

it was only right for her to finally shout it out

"First of all, you're not that old" she started listing, "second of all, she obviously doesn't care" she continued "and finally Joel, if you really like her, and if she really likes you, then it doesn't matter!"

But Joel was not convinced, he'd spent too long telling himself the opposite, and he couldn't even fathom the possibility of what Ellie was saying

"you just have to tell her"

she said it like it was easy, like the mere thought of it didn't give Joel a minor heart attack, like he hadn't woken up from multiple dreams where he would confess his love and you would laugh at his face, or worse, tell him you felt the same, something Joel knew not to be the truth.

Also, Joel had no idea when exactly throughout this conversation he'd admitted to liking you, but I guess it didn't matter now, it made no sense to keep the farse on.

"I can't Ellie, I-"

"oh my god you're such a chicken" she moaned "You're the one that always tells me to be brave!"

"that's different"

"how!?" she bugged her eyes, holding her palms up in show of her frustration "I get that it's scary, but what's the worst thing that could happen?"

And that, for some reason, stuck with him,

He really had nothing to lose,

It's not like you were friends or you would talk often, it's not like he would be ruining a relationship, there wasn't one,

And yet... yet it still terrified him,

"Ellie... I don't know"

"c'mon man, but your big boy pants on" she groaned "I'm telling you, she fucking likes you"

__ __ __

Joel didn't do it.

He couldn't. He just-

You were perfect, you were perfect in a way that made him feel all the more dirty,

like being close to you, talking to you, touching you... would be like plucking a flower with torn-up hands,

And fuck him, but Joel was scared, like he'd gone back 40 years and become 16 all over again.

He couldn't do it, he couldn't, wouldn't do it, and he'd set his mind to that, made peace with his cowardness and dread.

Until of course, Ellie's twisted mind came up with a way to force his fears to life.

"Howdy"

The kid was smiling so broadly that she looked like a child with a brand-new toy,

but Joel's eyes were somewhere else,

he was looking at you

"Hi Joel" you smiled, punching a knife into his gut

You were at his front door with his kid, who was very clearly plotting something, and Joel wondered for a moment if this was what would finally make his heart give out.

"Hi," he said, his voice sounding distant

Why is she here?

"Aren't you gonna let us in?" Ellie urged,

Us?

"Uhm, I-"

but Ellie had already sneaked inside, dragging you behind

And now the awkward scene was even more awkward, just at the entrance of his home.

"All alright" Ellie clapped her hands, watching Joel stare at you as you tried to avoid his gaze "I'm gonna go to my room," she said, shouldering him not so subtly

"Cool down dude" she mumbled, before disappearing upstairs.

What the fuc-

"I'm sorry to barge in like this" you finally spoke, a gentle smile on your lips "Ellie said you needed to tell me something, so I just... came here I guess" you finished with an awkward laugh

Fuck-fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck-

"If it's too much trouble I'll just go-"

"no," Joel said, before he could stop himself, finally realizing he was still holding the door's knob, and in a spur of bravery, deciding to use it to close the door.

"Oh, ok" you mumbled, puzzled by his demeanor "so uhm, what is it you needed to tell me?"

God damn that fucking trick-playing kid of his

"do you- do you want something to drink?"

the question took you aback, but then you did something that stunned Joel even more, you laughed,

you laughed softly, quickly, like you were letting out all this stupid awkwardness in a simple gesture

because that's how you were: Magical

"Sure" you shrugged, grinning "some water would be nice"

If Joel had to watch your face for an instant more he feared he was gonna explode, so he did all he could think of, he walked to the kitchen, only glancing at you again when he handed you your drink,

to his dismay, finding a smile still drawn on your lips.

"thank you" you said, taking a sip

god, even the way your lips wrapped around the rim made him want to drop to his knees.

He needed to get a grip.

"so... are you gonna tell me or do I have to guess?" you joked, your fingers drawing patterns on the glass

Was this really happening?

Was this hell?

"I..." he trailed off, running a hand through his hair as he glanced from the counter to you on repeat "I wanted to tell you that..."

"that?"

"that- the uhm-" he shut his eyes for a second, searching for words "the...bread you gave us this week was real good"

Goddamnit

"oh"

Even you couldn't hide your disappointment

I mean, you certainly didn't expect it. A compliment from Joel Miller? What universe were you in?

Just like you didn't expect any of this... him actually letting you in his house or offering you water...

You had half expected him to shut the door in your face,

The most he had ever given you was a half smile at a joke you told him while he was picking up bread, the rest were all rude grumbles or just a bunch of stoic looks...

and yet... yet a part of you couldn't help but have set expectations a little higher.

What a silly fool you'd been,

hoping for a love confession from a man who has made it very clear he despises you,

but still- a girl can dream, right?

"thank you" you mumbled, as Joel cursed himself over and over in his head "that's very nice of you," you smiled, stalling a second to see if he was gonna say something else, interrupt you at some point,

but he remained silent

"well if that's all, I'm gonna go then, thank you for the water I-"

Until he wasn't

"no-stop- I-"

Ellie was right.

He had to do this, he had to win his fear and try at least, or he was gonna regret it for the rest of his life, and he already had too many of those.

The problem was that you looked really beautiful today, and he'd never been good with words

Fuck it- if he was gonna make a fool of himself so be it,

He had nothing to lose and everything to win,

he had you to win.

"Yes?" you asked, trying to tame your hopes down

Think Joel, think

how the fuck do you tell a woman you like her?

"There's one other thing I've been meaning to tell ya" he cleared his throat, standing up straighter as he took a step closer to you.

"'m not great at doing this type of thing" he admitted, shaking his head slightly "but Ellie... she's right, I'm always tellin' her to be brave and everythin', so... I guess it's my turn now," he said, letting out a short, anxious laugh "I don't even know- I guess what I'm tryna say is that I'm gonna be honest now, but I want you to know that- that I know what you're gonna say and it's ok" he swallowed thickly, preparing himself from your inevitable rejection "I understand, really, I just- I thought I should try at least"

What was going on?

What the fuck was he saying?

"Joel, what are you talking about?"

This was it.

It was now or never.

"Y/n I-"

his heart was beating out of his chest, and his legs felt like jelly, but he had to do it, he had to take a leap of faith-

"Y/n I like you" he breathed like the words longed to be out of his mouth "I like you a lot, I have for a while now"

he watched your mouth part, your whole face filling with shock as you blinked over and over, trying to make sure this was really happening.

"Y-you like me?"

"yes" he nodded "And as I said, I know you don't feel the same, I know I'm old, and I've been an asshole to you all this time, so it's ok, really I-"

"stop talking Joel" you huffed a laugh, stepping closer, and then closer again, until your hand was on his arm "please just-" you bit down a smile, and he was so confused, so fucking confused, "say it again," you asked

"I like you y/n" he murmured, trying to get his mind to start working again,

but you were leaning closer,

and who cared what his name was anyway

"you were rude to me"

"I was, I'm sorry I-"

You pretended to be thinking about it, glancing upwards as you pursed your lips together

But who were you kidding?

"you're forgiven" you smiled, looking up at him as you slowly raised yourself on your tiptoes to gently, oh so gently, press your lips to his.

Joel was certain he had just died.

But then he opened his eyes again, and you were still there, beaming up at him, and he felt such a wave of happiness that he could have started crying right there,

only he took on a different route and grabbed each side of your face with his hands, crashing his lips with yours and kissing you, kissing you like he'd been dreaming of for months

exactly how you imagined he would,

better than you imagined, actually

so much better.

"Ha! I told you, Joel!"

He groaned as he leaned away, shooting Ellie an annoyed glance

"What are you doin' here?"

"just came here to gloat" she shrugged, watching you two with a grin plastered on her face

"I think you've done enough of that" he muttered, but you could only smile

"thank you, Ellie," you grinned "Thank you for doing this"

She raised her brows, looking at Joel as if saying "See, she's thanking me, why aren't you?", but then her expression got more genuine as she shot you a smile

"you're welcome" she smiled "Better having to see you kiss than having to put up with Joel being all sad 'cause you're talking to Jack or any other guy"

You gasped with amusement as Joel shut his eyes in embarrassment, his cheeks tainting with red

"Ellie-" Joel grumbled,

A soft giggle flowed through the room as Ellie turned away and went back up to her room, seemingly satisfied with her work

"You were jealous?" you teased him, your hands on his chest, while he'd moved one of his from your face to your waist.

"maybe I was" he fessed up

You smiled even brighter

"And you like me?" you asked for the thousandth time

"yes, sweetheart, I really fuckin' like you" he smiled too now, his lips finding yours again in a kiss that made time stand still and the world spin around

"I like you too Joel" you finally said, giving the man an actual mini-stroke.

"say it again"

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