missdirection26

[missdirection26]

Joel Millers hair was going to be the death of you (Chapter Two)

Summary: After the kiss at the dance, you wonder if anything else would come of it

Word count: 2.5k

Rating: Mature (just for swearing and drinking)

Tags: Jackson!Joel, Fluff, Angst with a happy ending, Romance, First Date

Chapter Two (Chapter One - here)

Also, finished this chapter as I wanted to join in @justagalwhowrites Joel Birthday Celebration, and this is a cutesy Jackson Joel with Friends to Lovers fic. I just want the old man to be happy and content, living out his life in Jackson with his family!

A few days had passed since the Winter Dance, but the memory of Joel’s kiss had haunted you every night. His scent—whiskey and woodsmoke—seemed to cling to your skin long after you'd parted ways. You hadn’t seen him since that night, and despite telling yourself you needed to move on, the yearning gnawed at you. Something had shifted between the two of you, and no amount of distilling could take your mind off it.

You were busy now, though. With the dance over, your operation had scaled back to a more manageable pace, and you were grateful to get back to some semblance of normalcy. Still, you couldn’t help but glance toward the door of your makeshift distillery every time you heard footsteps. Part of you knew it was irrational to expect him to just show up—but deep down, you wanted him to. The idea of Joel standing in your doorway again, maybe with that same look in his eyes from the dance, made your chest ache.

It was nearing dusk when there was a knock at the door. For a second, you hesitated, but before you could convince yourself it was someone else, you swung it open.

And there he was. Joel stood on your threshold, hands in his pockets, looking as if he’d been debating whether or not to knock for a while.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low, rough.

“Hey yourself.” You stepped back, opening the door wider. “Come in.”

Joel hesitated for only a moment before stepping inside. His eyes scanned the distillery, the barrels lined up against the wall, the equipment you’d scavenged over the years. It wasn’t much, but it was yours, and it kept Jackson in good spirits - literally. He seemed to take it all in before his gaze landed back on you.

“I brought you somethin’,” he said, pulling a hand from his pocket. He held out a small wooden carving - a bird this time, wings spread wide as if in mid-flight. You smiled as you took it, turning it over in your hands.

“You spoil me, Miller,” you said, brushing your fingers over the finely carved details. “What’s the occasion?”

Joel’s eyes flickered toward the floor, then back up at you. He seemed to wrestle with his words, and for a moment, the two of you stood in the quiet hum of the distillery.

“Wanted to talk about the other night,” he finally said, his voice steady but cautious. “About… what happened.”

You swallowed, suddenly feeling a knot form in your throat. It wasn’t regret you felt- definitely not. But the uncertainty, the vulnerability that had come with that kiss, it all came rushing back. You hadn’t thought too much beyond the moment itself, hadn’t let yourself consider what it meant. Now, standing here in the soft glow of the distillery’s lights, you realised you couldn’t avoid it any longer.

“Joel…” you started, unsure where to begin. “That night - it was…” You trailed off, not wanting to call it a mistake, but unsure of how to describe it otherwise.

Joel stepped closer, his presence filling the space between you. His eyes softened as he looked at you, like he could see right through the walls you’d spent years building.

“I’m not good at this,” he admitted, his voice a low rasp. “I don’t… I don’t have the right words, but I didn’t want to leave it hangin’ in the air. I ain’t blind - I know we’ve been dancin’ around somethin’ for a while now. And I need to know… if that’s what you want, too.”

You blinked, caught off guard by his directness. For years, you’d thought Joel kept his distance, that he wasn’t interested in anything beyond the whiskey you traded and the occasional conversation. But here he was, laying it out in front of you like a hand of cards, waiting to see if you’d fold or match his bet.

“I don’t know,” you said honestly, your voice barely a whisper. “I didn’t think you… I didn’t think you wanted that kind of thing.”

He chuckled softly, a sound that rumbled low in his chest. “I didn’t think I did either. But with you…” His words trailed off as he took another step closer, his hand reaching up, almost instinctively, to brush a stray hair from your face. His touch was gentle, and it sent a shiver down your spine. “With you, I’m thinkin’ maybe I do.”

Your breath hitched in your throat, and for a long moment, you couldn’t find the words to respond. This was Joel - gruff, hard-edged Joel - standing in your distillery and telling you he wanted more. It was terrifying and exhilarating all at once.

“I didn’t think I could do this again,” you admitted, surprising yourself with the confession. “After Talia, I just… I didn’t think I had it in me.”

Joel’s expression softened, and he took another step forward, until there was barely any space left between the two of you. “I get it,” he murmured. “I thought I’d lost that part of me, too. But you… you’ve been gettin’ under my skin for years now. Maybe it’s time we stop fightin’ it.”

You couldn’t help but let out a short, breathless laugh. “You make it sound so easy.”

His lips twitched into the faintest smile. “Ain’t nothin’ about this easy. But we’ve both survived worse, haven’t we?”

The air between you felt charged, like one wrong move could send the whole thing crashing down. But as Joel stood there, his hand still brushing against your cheek, you realised you didn’t want to back away from this. Not anymore.

“Yeah,” you said quietly, leaning into his touch. “We have.”

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. And then, as if drawn by some invisible force, Joel’s lips found yours again. This kiss wasn’t hesitant like the last - it was certain, slow, like the two of you had all the time in the world. His hand cupped the back of your neck, pulling you closer, and you melted into him, feeling the warmth of his body seep into yours.

When you finally pulled back, breathless, Joel rested his forehead against yours. “We can take this slow,” he murmured. “Figure it out as we go.”

You nodded, feeling something uncoil in your chest - something that had been wound tight for far too long.

“Yeah,” you whispered. “I think I’d like that.”

And for the first time in years, you allowed yourself to feel hopeful.

–

The next few days after your conversation with Joel felt like a dream, a slow, simmering anticipation building in the quiet moments when you were alone. You didn’t know what to expect - Joel Miller wasn’t exactly the “romantic” type. Still, when he suggested you go on a “proper date” after his patrol, you had to suppress the giddy smile threatening to creep across your face. He told you to meet him by the grain store barn at sunset, and though he didn’t say much more, the subtle warmth in his eyes was enough to send your mind racing.

As the day drew closer, you tried not to think too much about it. You told yourself to keep it simple. After all, this was Joel - gruff, practical, no-nonsense Joel. It wasn’t going to be anything elaborate, and that was fine with you. But still, you found yourself lingering a little longer in front of the mirror, brushing your hair with more care than usual.

You made your way to the barn just as the sun began to sink below the horizon, casting the town of Jackson in soft shades of amber and pink. Your heart thrummed in your chest as you neared the building, half-expecting to find Joel leaning against the fence, all casual and unbothered like he usually was. But when you rounded the corner, you saw something entirely different.

Joel was there, all right, but he wasn’t just waiting. He’d set up a small table just outside the barn, far enough from the bustle of town that you’d have privacy, but close enough that the soft sounds of life still carried on the breeze. On the table sat two mismatched plates and a couple of candles - an attempt at elegance despite the rough surroundings. Next to the table was a small firepit he must have made earlier, its flames flickering gently in the dusk.

You blinked, completely taken aback. This was... more effort than you had expected. A lot more.

Joel stood there, rubbing the back of his neck the way he always did when he was nervous. When he saw your expression, he gave you a lopsided, slightly sheepish smile. “It ain’t much,” he said, his voice quieter than usual. “But I figured we deserved somethin’... nice.”

You couldn’t stop the grin that spread across your face. “Joel, this is... this is more than nice. It’s perfect.”

He let out a breath he must’ve been holding, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “Good. I wasn’t sure if you were the candlelight kinda girl.”

You chuckled softly, stepping closer to the table. “Normally, I’m not, but for you? I can make an exception.”

The fire crackled softly in the background as Joel pulled out the chair for you, his hand brushing yours as you sat down. There was a tension in the air - not the kind of tension you’d felt all those years when you were tiptoeing around each other, but something softer, more promising.

Joel sat across from you, and the two of you shared a comfortable silence for a moment, the warmth of the fire keeping the evening chill at bay. The flickering light cast soft shadows on Joel’s face, and you found yourself staring at him longer than you intended, memorising every detail - the lines etched into his skin, the silver threading through his sparse beard, the way his hair curled just above his ears (he still hadn’t cut it, thank whatever deity may be out there). He looked more at ease than you’d ever seen him, and that alone was enough to make your chest tighten.

After a moment, Joel reached into a small cooler at his feet and pulled out two bottles of beer - your beer. He handed you one with a grin. “Figured it’s only right, seein’ as you’re the expert.”

You laughed, accepting the bottle and taking a long sip. “You know how to charm a girl.”

Joel gave a low chuckle, taking a drink from his own bottle. “Wasn’t sure what to cook,” he said, nodding toward a small pot hanging over the fire. “But Ellie swore up and down I couldn’t screw up stew. So… stew it is.”

The mention of Ellie made you smile. You knew how much she meant to him - how the work he did around Jackson was always to keep her safe. The fact that he’d even mentioned this “date” to her was surprising, but it made you feel a little more grounded in whatever this thing between you was becoming.

“I’m sure it’s great,” you said, leaning back in your chair, feeling the warmth of the fire seep into your skin. “I’m not too picky. Anything cooked over a fire tastes better anyway.”

Joel gave a quiet hum of agreement, stirring the pot with slow, careful movements. He looked content, peaceful in a way that seemed foreign to both of you. You hadn’t seen Joel like this before - not so open, so relaxed. And you liked it.

As the stew simmered and the conversation flowed, you found yourselves slipping into the same comfortable banter that had always been there between you. Joel teased you about the time you accidentally mixed up batches of whiskey and moonshine, and you shot back about his less-than-graceful attempts at fixing the leaky roof on the distillery. It felt easy, natural, like nothing had really changed, even though everything had.

When the stew was ready, Joel served you both, and the two of you ate in the firelight, the sound of the wind rustling through the trees. It was simple, but perfect, exactly what you both needed after years of surviving and making do with whatever scraps of happiness you could find.

After the meal, you leaned back in your chair, staring up at the night sky, the stars just beginning to blink into existence. Joel was quiet beside you, but you could feel the weight of his gaze on you, the intensity of it making your skin warm.

“What’re you thinking about?” you asked, glancing over at him.

Joel hesitated for a moment, then shook his head with a soft, almost embarrassed smile. “Just thinkin’ ‘bout how long I’ve been fightin’ this.”

“Fighting what?”

He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees, his eyes still fixed on you. “This,” he said, gesturing between the two of you. “You. For years, I told myself I wasn’t ready. That I couldn’t… let anyone in again. But now… now I’m wonderin’ why the hell I waited so long.”

His words settled over you like a blanket, warm and comforting. You’d felt the same way - terrified of opening yourself up, of letting anyone get too close. But here you were, with Joel, on what was undoubtedly the best date you’d had in years. Hell, maybe the best date you’d ever had.

You smiled, reaching across the small table to take his hand in yours. “Maybe we just needed time,” you said softly, your thumb tracing circles on the back of his hand. “We both had a lot of walls to break down.”

Joel’s fingers tightened around yours, his grip firm but gentle. He didn’t say anything for a long moment, but when he finally looked up at you, there was something different in his eyes - something deeper, more vulnerable than you’d ever seen before.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “Maybe you’re right.”

You stayed like that for a while, sitting in the quiet, your hands intertwined. It was enough. For the first time in a long time, you weren’t worried about what came next. You weren’t thinking about tomorrow, or the dangers that lurked just beyond the safety of Jackson. All that mattered was the here and now—the firelight, the stars, and the man sitting across from you, his hand warm in yours.

As the night wore on, the fire began to die down, the embers glowing faintly in the dark. Joel stood, offering you his hand to help you up, and when you took it, he didn’t let go. Instead, he pulled you close, his arms wrapping around you in a way that felt both protective and tender.

“You wanna walk me home, cowboy?” you teased, looking up at him with a grin.

Joel chuckled, shaking his head. “You know damn well I’m gonna, my mama would turn in her grave if I let a lady walk home alone.”

And with that, the two of you set off into the night, walking side by side.

[missdirection26]

I saw this and spouted a couple of thousand words.

Summary: You’re the person in control of Jackson’s alcohol production and distribution.

You’ve been trying not to crush on Joel Miller, and having some time away to focus on producing some drinks for the winter dance in 2038 gives you some much needed time apart.

Until you see his beautifully outgrown hair…

Word count: 2.1k

Rating: Mature (just for swearing and drinking)

Tags: Jackson!Joel, Fluff, Angst with a happy ending, Romance, First Kiss

Chapter One (Chapter two - here)

Joel Miller’s hair was going to be the death of you.

As the person with control over the alcohol distribution in Jackson, you were one of the only people allowed in Joel’s small circle of trust. Years ago when he’d joined the community with his sort-of daughter, he sought you out. You, who’d grown up working in your families distillery Before. You who were strong-willed enough to manage the most popular non-essential resource in town, and the arguments that came along with it. Joel, however, was ever the Southern gentleman.

“Excuse me ma’am, sorry to bother ya, but my brother, Tommy…he said you’re the lady I need to come to to barter for more than my assigned ration of whiskey?”

Despite his size, he seemed small in that moment. Nervous. Perhaps even shy?

“Tommy knows better than to call me a lady, ain’t ever been one of those. But he’s right about how I got the hookup. I got a distillery system set up here, raided the Jackson Hole Still Works south of here a few years back for the equipment, but production is still limited. How much you looking for?”

He stood before you, rubbing the back of his neck and pointedly avoiding contact with your eyes. You figured out later that it was lucky on your end he did that, as your usually steely will had a kryptonite in his baby brown eyes.

“Double the ration amount ongoing? I ain’t got nothing physical to trade yet, but I’ll be a full-time patroller soon if ya need somethin’. Or I’m good with my hands”

You smirked and giggled at him then, secretly knowing what he meant (Tommy had been raving on around town about his brothers contracting skills the months he’d been gone in preparation for his return), but you loved messing with guys. And watching his sun-kissed cheeks redden slightly as he realised what he’d said sent a small thrill of power down your spine.

“I…I meant buildin’. Woodwork and shit, can figure my way around a pipe too if need be. I just…” he trailed off.

That was the moment you think it all started, this stupid schoolgirl crush on a 50 odd year old man. Seeing him try not to be vulnerable with a stranger, in a strange town, in a shit world. So you take pity on him.

“Glass bottles. People are suppose to return them, but accidents happen and we have less and less all the time. They’re also heavy so patrollers don’t like to carry them back, but thats usually the currency I have with the others. Lets say average one bottle a patrol, and I get you on retainer for repairs or building work I need, and you got a deal” you stated confidently, stepping closer and held a hand out to seal the deal. Little would you know, this moment would become your undoing.

For years, you two circled around each other, waltzing around the energy you emitted. He’d come to the small distillery you ran out of an old restaurant every week, with a few precious glass bottles, and had a small stilted conversation as you updated your logs with the exchange. You learned he had a dry sense of humour like yours, that you could make the corners of his lips turn upward with a bit of town gossip, and that he’d set up a woodworking room in his house when Ellie move out to the garage. The last one came along with the first of many gifts he started giving you. Tiny little creatures he’d began whittling after the endless downtime of town living had started grating on him. On the house he’d say every time you offered a bottle of beer in exchange, giving you lip on not understanding the concept of a gift.

For years, you danced. You knew Joel didn’t feel anything like that towards you, he’d been very clear about that. A couple of years back, Tommy set him up on a date with the lady who ran the greenhouse - Esther you think? She wasn’t one for drinking so you had no clue about her really - and Joel spent a good portion of your weekly chat groaning on about the upcoming thing. You bantered back like always, but tiny pinpricks hit your heart at how adamant he was about not needing a partner like that. And honestly, it’s not something you’d ever wanted either, especially after losing Talia sometime before Joel even joined Jackson. You thought you’d had your one love, and the pain of losing another had you bat off any attention with your wit and sass, sticking to harmless flirting. But Joel had somehow nudged his way in. You resolved to start building the walls back up.

It had been easier recently. With the winter being so harsh, socialising as a town had reduced, and the council were worried about morale. Ergo - The Winter Dance.

Social events were regular in Jackson, but the council were determined to go all out with this one, wanting to coax as many residents out and having fun as possible. So for the first time, they wanted a full open bar. Usually there was a limit to keep the town from running totally dry, but some sweet talking from Maria and a promise of another raid of Jackson Hole Still Works had you agreeing to overproduce for a month before the dance to create enough supply. This meaning you and a few trusted ‘employees’ were basically living at your makeshift distillery, no time for any sort-of flirting with a certain bearded Texan.

What this also meant was that after a whole month of not laying eyes on the man, you were not prepared for the fact that he’d somehow decided to grow his hair out a bit for the winter. So when you enter the Church where the dance is being held, and you see the man leaning against the makeshift bar, you’re not prepared at all, and with the exhaustion reducing your self control, the walls came tumbling down.

Thankfully, he didn’t spot you as you entered or you knew your face would have given you away, so focussed on something in the crowd. Your eyes followed what he was looking at, and a small smile upturned the corners of your lips. Out on the dance floor was your old lover's sister Dina (who you also thought of as a sister), with her arms around Joel's now grown kid, Ellie. You hadn’t spoken much to Dina recently, after her turning 18 and joining the full-time patrol team keeping her busy, but after her on-off with Jesse the past few years, you were just glad she seemed to be moving on.

You were so focussed on the young girls, you hadn’t realised you had company.

“So you are alive. Still not used to trustin’ people, so I’m mighty glad to see ya hear tonight to prove ‘em right”

Fuck. That stupid goddamn Texan drawl. You had enough self-restraint to not look over to him, knowing that either his baby brown eyes or the new hair growth so perfect for running your hands through would be your undoing.

“Well, the Council thought it would be good for the town if everyone could get white girl wasted, so who am I to deny that request?”

You heard him snort gently next to you. The next few seconds passed in agonising silence (for you at least) before the man consuming your soul made a sound.

“So does she partake in her own goods?”

You whip your head round to look at him, confusion masked on your face, forgetting about the incandescent curls you were about to see.

He’s attuned to your facial expressions by now.

“I mean, can I get you a drink?” he mumbles, gesturing weakly to the bar in the corner where all your hard work for the past month resides.

If you had to stand there any longer, you knew you wouldn’t be able to resist grabbing those goddamn curls, so without warning, your legs took off, striding you fast and efficiently towards your goal - some fucking liquid courage.

Jeff - one of the bartenders who drew the short straw to work the dance - knew you well enough to have a double whiskey neat, ready for you to slam back the moment you were close enough.

“So you ain’t a nurse your drink kind of gal, good to know”

The fucking Texan drawl had followed you. Of course, he had longer (and so sexy and thick) legs that’d easily keep up with your small stature.

You shoved your glass back toward Jeff, before taking a deep breath and steeling your resolve as you looked back to Joel. Fuck he looks so fucking hot. You can do this, it’s just one night.

“I’ve just spent the past month pouring my blood, sweat, and tears into all this. Think I deserve to drink it however I please thank you!”

Phew. Not awful. Not as witty as you might usually be, but given the fucking hair situation, you were doing your goddamn best,

The heat emanating off him as he scooched closer to you wasn’t helping though.

“Well, I’m grateful for your effort ma’am, this is a mighty fine batch you made”

You couldn’t help but smile at that. With resources slimmer as the years go by, the quality of the alcohol you distilled varied. Joel was always an honest judge, something you’d grown to respect over the years. You knew his words were true, and fuck if it didn’t worsen your resolve.

But he wasn’t interested in you like that - in anyone. So you used the remainder of your self-control to change the subject.

“Didn’t peg you to be a community event attendee Miller, thought this was all a bunch of communist bullshit last I heard?”

He snorted a bit louder this time, somehow still ridiculously attractive.

“I was threatened from multiple angles. Ellie and Tommy together could arguably be more formidable than FEDRA when it comes to forcing me to do shit I don’t wanna do”

Inwardly, you sighed. It was nice that Joel had people who cared about him like this of course, but it just reminded you of what you didn’t have. Dina checked in occasionally, feeling a bit responsible for the woman her sister loved, and although you were friendly with most of Jackson given your role, no one cared enough about your wellbeing to force you to do something you didn’t want to do but would be good for you. Totally your fault of course, you didn’t let many people close enough for that. Still…it ached.

“Woah, hey there girlie, you with me? You started drinkin’ before you got here maybe?”

Fuck. SHIT. You got stuck in your head, and now your stupid hot crush was having to guide you gently out of the church as you slowly came back to your senses.

It was only once you’d turned a corner and were alone with him that you returned fully to your body - realising his large, calloused hand was gently gripping your upper arm.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry Joel, that hasn’t happened in a really long time. I think I’m just tired, with all the extra work and all-”

He quickly interrupted you by turning to face you head on.

“Girlie, you don’t gotta apologise, it’s kinda nice to see you be a bit human for once”

And as you looked up at his face, you saw the softest and kindest expression you’d ever seen on the survivors face, some of his previously slicked back curls popping out in the cold, forming a slightly wild halo to frame him. He was the most beautiful creature you’d ever seen, and you physically couldn’t stop yourself from stepping into his space, and reaching up a hand to gently run through his curls.

Those baby brown eyes widened slightly in shock, but otherwise he didn’t move for what felt like eternity as your fingers were buried and surrounded by his brown and grey locks, pushing through them reverently.

Slowly, one of his hands found your waist and gently tugged you forward as his other hand found your cheek, his thumb caressing your cheek. You were totally aware of your body, every feeling, but you no longer had control. And as his head tilted down to meet yours, his lips grazing on yours, you never wanted control of your body again if it meant depriving you of this feeling. You could feel him moving out of pure instinct like yourself, and despite it just being a kiss, you realised deep in your gut, that this was the start of something physically and spiritually breathtaking