oldsoul007

[oldsoul007]

crawling back to you

joel miller x reader

summary: you haven’t seen joel since he let you leave boston with tommy, until…

a/n: grumpy joel, angsty and fluffy

joel miller masterlist

The last thing I remember was the blinding midday sun and the crackling of the dried leaves beneath my boots. I’d been walking for hours—too many hours—with no food, no water, and no sign of a single soul. The world was too quiet, and when the dizziness hit, I knew I’d pushed too far.

I hadn’t seen the raiders coming. Not until it was too late. They burst out from the tree line, shouting, armed, and I’d tried to run. But my body betrayed me. My knees gave out before I could process what was happening, and the hard, cracked asphalt of the road rushed up to meet me as they closed in.

Then darkness.

For a while, there was nothing but a foggy void, until I felt something. A jolt of awareness. The weight of the world slowly pressed back on me: the ache in my limbs, the sting in my throat, and the cold chill of shade falling over my skin.

Voices.

“You think she’s alive?”

The words floated into my consciousness, sharp and clear. My heart raced. The raiders—had they caught me? I wanted to open my eyes, but my body wasn’t listening.

“How the hell should I know, Ellie?”

That voice was rough and edged like the bark of an old tree. Deep. Grumpy. Close. Familiar.

“She looks alive. Kinda.”

“Kinda doesn’t cut it, kid.” A sigh, heavy and annoyed. “She’s breathing, so that’s a good sign. Or bad, depending on how you wanna look at it.”

The ground beneath me was rough gravel digging into my side. Someone must’ve moved me. My knife. My hands twitched instinctively for it, but I didn’t feel the familiar weight at my belt.

“She’s got a backpack,” the girl—Ellie—said. “Maybe she’s got something useful on her.”

“Don’t even think about it,” the man snapped.

“Relax, I was just saying!”

They didn’t sound like raiders. But I wasn’t taking chances. Slowly, I forced my eyelids to lift, but it was like peeling back layers of lead. The light stung, and all I could make out at first was a blurred silhouette looming above me.

“She’s moving!” Ellie’s voice jumped an octave.

“Yeah, I can see that,” the man grumbled.

The shapes above me sharpened: a man with graying hair and a perpetual scowl crouched close, while a girl with curious, wide eyes hovered just behind him. Bottoms of their faces covered with a bandana. My muscles tensed, and instinct screamed one thing: fight.

I surged up, lashing out before I could think. My body felt sluggish, weak, but adrenaline drove me forward.

“Whoa!” Ellie yelped, stumbling back.

He moved faster than I expected. In one fluid motion, he grabbed both of my wrists and shoved me back down onto the ground, pinning me there with a strength I had no hope of matching.

“Don’t even think about it,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous. His face was inches from mine, his grip like iron.

“Get off me!” I spat, twisting against him, but it was useless.

“You wanna try that again?” he snapped, glaring down at me. “Because I guarantee it won’t go how you think.”

“Joel, should I—” Ellie’s voice cut through the wind, and I glanced up to see her pointing a gun at me.

“Hold on,” the man—Joel—said. His voice made something in my chest clench, though I couldn’t place why.

He shifted, one hand leaving my wrist to yank the bandana down from my face. The cold stung my skin as it was exposed to the biting wind, but all I could focus on was his face.

Joel froze. His eyes widened as he stared down at me, his grip slackening just enough for me to shove at his chest.

“Y/n?”

Hearing my name in that voice—his voice—hit me like a gut punch. I blinked up at him, snowflakes catching on my lashes as my brain struggled to catch up.

“Joel?” I rasped, disbelief and anger warring inside me.

He let go of my wrists, sitting back slightly, but I wasn’t done. With a grunt, I shoved him hard enough to make him stumble.

“Get off me, asshole!” I snapped, scrambling to my feet.

Ellie lowered her gun, her brows furrowed in confusion. “Wait, you know her?”

Joel stood slowly, brushing snow off his jacket, his eyes never leaving mine. “Yeah… I know her.”

“Know me?” I barked, crossing my arms against the cold. “That’s all you’ve got to say after years?”

“Not now,” he said, his voice quieter but no less firm. “We need to move. It’s not safe out here.”

“Oh, now you care about safety,” I shot back, but the storm was picking up again, and as much as I hated to admit it, I couldn’t stay out here alone.

Ellie glanced between us, still holding the gun loosely. “So… are we just letting her come with us?”

“She’s coming with us,” Joel said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

I snorted, pulling my scarf back up. “Like hell I am.”

“Fine,” Joel said, stepping closer until he was towering over me. “Then freeze out here on your own.”

We locked eyes, the familiar stubbornness in his gaze making my blood boil. Finally, I sighed, muttering under my breath. “Fine. But if you pull something like that again, I’m putting a bullet in your knee.”

Ellie raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything.

Joel smirked—barely, but I caught it. “Good to see you haven’t changed.”

I looked around us.

“Where—” My voice cracked, my throat dry. “Where are they?”

“The raiders?” Joel asked, his tone clipped. “Dead. You’re welcome.”

Ellie shot him a look. “You don’t have to be such a dick about it.”

Joel ignored her, turning to scan the horizon like he was already regretting stopping to help.

Ellie turned back to me, her tone gentler. “You need water? Food? You look like you’re about to keel over.”

I swallowed hard, forcing out a hoarse whisper. “Water…”

Ellie looked at Joel expectantly. “She needs water.”

Joel sighed heavily, like this was the biggest inconvenience in the world, and dug a bottle out of his pack. He shoved it toward me without a word, his scowl deepening.

“Don’t drink too fast,” he muttered. “You’ll puke.”

I took the bottle with shaking hands, sipping carefully.

Ellie gave me a small smile. “See? He’s grumpy, but he’s not so bad., but i’m guessing you knew that already. I’m Ellie, by the way. What’s your name again?”

“Y/n,” I croaked.

“Well, y/n,” she said, leaning back on her heels. “Looks like you’re stuck with us for now.”

Joel shot her a glare, but she just smiled sweetly at him.

As I sipped the water, trying not to choke, I couldn’t help but wonder why Ellie seemed so eager to help me—and why Joel seemed so reluctant to.

The pain in my thigh hit me like a freight train the moment I tried to stand. It was sharp and hot, radiating up my leg with every twitch of movement. I glanced down and saw the blood, dark and sticky, soaking through a jagged tear in my jeans. My stomach turned.

“Shit,” I muttered under my breath, dropping back to the ground.

Joel and Ellie were still nearby, Joel pacing with his rifle slung low, Ellie crouched by the fire, poking at it absentmindedly. I pressed my hand against the wound, trying to stop the bleeding, but it wasn’t doing much good.

“You okay?” Ellie asked, looking up.

“Fine,” I lied, my voice tight.

“Yeah, sure you are,” Joel muttered without even glancing my way.

I glared at him but focused back on my leg. I needed to stop the bleeding, clean it—do something before it got worse. My hands fumbled as I tried to tear a strip from the already-ruined part of my jeans, but my fingers were shaking too much to get a good grip.

“Dammit,” I hissed, tugging harder.

Joel finally turned, watching me struggle with an expression that screamed irritation. “What the hell are you doing?”

“I can handle it,” I snapped, not looking at him.

“Yeah, sure looks like it,” he said dryly, crossing the distance in a few long strides. Before I could protest, he crouched down in front of me and grabbed my leg.

“Hey!” I yelped, jerking back.

“Hold still,” he growled, yanking my jeans up over the wound to get a better look.

“What are you—”

“Helping,” he said sharply, cutting me off. “Because you clearly can’t do this yourself.”

“I didn’t ask you to.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t need you bleeding out and slowing us down,” he shot back, his hands already pulling a small bottle of alcohol from his pack.

I froze when I saw it. “Wait—wait.”

He didn’t stop, just uncapped the bottle and dumped it onto the wound in one swift motion.

Pain exploded through my thigh, white-hot and searing. I couldn’t stop the scream that ripped out of me, my whole body jerking away from him.

“Goddammit!” I shouted, clutching at my leg. “What the hell is wrong with you?!”

“Stop moving,” Joel barked, his hand clamping down on my leg to keep it still. “You’re just making it worse.”

“You could’ve warned me!”

“I did,” he said flatly, grabbing a clean cloth and pressing it firmly against the cut.

“Yeah, great warning!” I hissed, still trying to recover from the burn.

Ellie was sitting nearby, watching the whole thing with wide eyes. “Uh, yeah, he’s not exactly the most… delicate, if you hadn’t noticed.”

Joel ignored her, wrapping the bandage tightly around my thigh with the kind of practiced efficiency that made me wonder how many times he’d done this before.

“Can you walk?” he asked once he was done, standing and offering me a hand.

I stared at it for a second, then grudgingly took it. He hauled me up, steadying me when my leg wobbled.

“I’m fine,” I muttered, even though I wasn’t.

“Sure you are,” he said, his tone making it clear he didn’t believe me.

Later that night, we camped near a small fire Joel had built, the warmth of the flames doing little to ease the tension between us. Ellie sat across from me, poking at the fire with a stick, while Joel leaned against a nearby tree, his arms crossed and his rifle within easy reach.

“So,” I said after a long silence, my voice cutting through the crackle of the fire. “Where are you two headed?”

Ellie perked up immediately, her mouth opening before she could stop herself. “We’re going to—”

“We’re going to the Fireflies,” Joel interrupted, his voice steady and sure.

Ellie froze, her eyes darting between the two of us. “Joel!?” she hissed, clearly caught off guard by his honesty.

I frowned, looking between them. “The Fireflies? Why?” I could tell there was something they weren’t saying, something important.

Joel sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. “Because Ellie’s immune,” he said, his voice calm but carrying the weight of what those words meant. “And they’re working on a cure.”

I blinked, my mind racing to catch up. “Immune?” I repeated, glancing at Ellie.

Ellie shifted uncomfortably, clearly not used to someone new knowing. “Yeah,” she mumbled, shrugging. “I got bit. Didn’t turn. That was, like, forever ago.”

I stared at her, processing what Joel had just admitted. “And you’re taking her to the Fireflies,” I said slowly. “Because they think they can use her immunity to make a cure.”

“That’s the idea,” Joel said, his tone neutral. “Whether it’ll work or not, that’s anyone’s guess.”

I leaned back, crossing my arms as I studied him. Joel wasn’t the type to trust anyone with this kind of information lightly. The fact that he was telling me now said a lot.

“And you’re okay with me knowing all this?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at him.

Joel held my gaze, his expression unreadable. “I wouldn’t’ve said anything if I didn’t trust you.”

That hit harder than I expected. For a moment, I couldn’t find the words. Joel and I had history—messy, complicated history—but this… this was something else.

After a long pause, I finally spoke. “Where are the Fireflies at?” I glanced at Joel, trying to keep my voice steady.

“Salt Lake City,” he replied, his tone flat, as if that was the only answer he had to offer.

I nodded, thinking for a moment. “That’s a hell of a trip.”

Joel didn’t respond to that, so I let the silence stretch a bit longer, watching the flickering flames. The crackle of the fire was the only thing filling the space between us.

I shifted slightly, the weight of the night starting to press on me. “I was with a group,” I said after a beat, keeping my voice low, like the words might break something if I said them too loud. “Good people. Or… they were. Got separated after some raiders hit us a couple days back. Didn’t have much of a choice but to run.” I paused, my gaze flicking to Ellie, who was staring at the fire, her expression unreadable. “I wasn’t planning on being out here alone.”

Joel watched me for a long time, and I could tell he was taking in every word, sizing up what I said, probably weighing if it added up. “You got a place to go?” he asked.

I swallowed, hesitant. I hadn’t told him much about Jackson yet. The thought of it felt like a fleeting memory, a piece of the past I wasn’t sure I could go back to. But the truth was, it might be the safest place for all of us, at least for a while.

“Yeah,” I finally said, my voice steady. “I got a home back in Jackson. It’s… safe there. Got supplies, people. It’s not perfect, but it’s the closest thing to normal I’ve seen in years.”

Ellie looked up then, her brow furrowed. “Jackson? You mean, like, an actual town?”

I nodded. “Yeah. Walled-in, secure. We’ve got farms, housing, everything you’d need. It’s not perfect, but it’s better than out here.”

Joel’s face darkened slightly, though I couldn’t tell if it was from hope or suspicion. I felt the weight of the unspoken questions hanging in the air between us. I had to bite back the words that wanted to spill out—about Tommy, about how he was safe and well in Jackson. But I stopped myself. Ellie was sitting there, and I didn’t know how she’d react if Joel found out his brother was there.

Instead, I kept my tone even. “If you’re heading to Salt Lake City, we can stop there first. Restock on supplies, maybe grab a decent meal. Then you can keep moving.”

Joel turned his gaze toward me, his eyes narrowing a little, his jaw clenched. “You sure it’s safe?”

I nodded, my voice firm. “It is. Safer than out here, anyway.”

Ellie, still quiet, looked from Joel to me. After a moment, she shrugged, but her gaze lingered on me for a second too long. “I mean… doesn’t sound like a bad idea.”

Joel looked at her, then back at me. He hesitated for a moment, and I saw the conflict flicker in his eyes. Finally, he gave a small nod. “All right. We’ll stop there. But just for supplies. Ain’t got time to waste.”

I nodded, a small relief washing over me. We’d do this. I’d help them, guide them, and maybe even find a moment to tell Joel about Tommy—if I could. The fire crackled between us, the sounds of the night closing in as we all settled back into the quiet.

Joel leaned back against a log, his eyes flicking upward to the stars, while Ellie poked the fire again, lost in her own thoughts. I wrapped my coat tighter around myself, feeling the weight of the journey ahead pressing down.

I wasn’t sure what would come next, but I was going to get them to Jackson first. Maybe, after that, I could finally tell Joel the truth.

Joel didn’t say anything else, just turned his attention back to the fire. But the tension between us felt lighter now, the weight of unspoken things settling into something almost comfortable.

Whatever happened next, I knew one thing for sure: Joel trusted me enough to tell me the truth. And that, in this world, meant everything.

The three of us sat around the small campfire, its glow casting flickering light onto the trees surrounding us. The temperature had dropped as the sun set, and I was grateful for the warmth of the flames and the smell of something vaguely edible Joel was cooking over them.

Ellie sat cross-legged on her sleeping bag, fiddling with the pages of her battered joke book. She had already gone through a handful of them today, and each time Joel looked like he was about ready to roll his eyes out of his head.

“Okay, okay,” Ellie announced, holding up a hand as though commanding our attention. “This one’s a classic. You ready?” She cleared her throat dramatically, glancing between me and Joel. “What do you call an alligator in a vest?”

I stifled a laugh already, knowing she was probably more excited about the punchline than the joke itself.

Joel, stirring the pan of food, gave her a sideways look. “Do I even wanna know?”

“An investigator!” Ellie exclaimed, cackling as if it were the funniest thing she’d ever heard.

I couldn’t help but chuckle along with her, more at her reaction than the joke. Joel just shook his head and sighed heavily, setting the pan down on a flat rock by the fire.

“She’s been doin’ this since we left Boston,” he muttered, as though he were lamenting some great burden he’d been forced to bear.

“Damn right I have!” Ellie said, puffing out her chest with mock pride. “You know you love it, Joel.”

He gave her a look that was somewhere between amused and exasperated. “You keep tellin’ yourself that, kid.”

Ellie smirked, flipping through the pages of the book again. “Oh, I’m not done. I’ve got more where that came from.”

“God help us,” Joel said under his breath, but there was a ghost of a smile on his face.

I leaned back, my hands stretched out toward the fire, watching the two of them. “You know,” I said, grinning, “I think it’s impressive she’s been carrying that book all this way. Priorities.”

Ellie nodded vigorously, pointing at me. “Exactly! See, y/n gets it. I’m spreading joy in the apocalypse. That’s a valuable service.”

Joel snorted. “Sure. That’s what it is.”

Ellie stuck her tongue out at him before turning to me. “Okay, y/n, this one’s for you: Why couldn’t the bicycle stand up by itself?”

I thought for a second, but before I could even guess, she blurted out, “Because it was two tired!”

Her laughter was contagious, and I found myself laughing right along with her. Even Joel let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head as if he couldn’t believe this was his life now.

“Two tired,” I repeated, grinning. “That’s actually not bad.”

“Thank you!” Ellie said, pretending to tip an invisible hat. “I’ll be here all week. Or, you know, as long as it takes us to get to Jackson.”

Joel let out a long sigh, but there was no missing the warmth in his expression as he looked at her. “You’re somethin’ else, kid.”

Ellie beamed, clearly pleased with herself. “Damn right I am.”

And in that moment, as the fire crackled and Ellie started flipping through her book for another gem, I couldn’t help but think that even in a world like this, there was still room for laughter. And that was worth holding onto.

The fire crackled softly, its warmth flickering in the cool night air. Ellie was asleep, her body curled up tightly in her sleeping bag, breathing steady and slow. Joel sat across from me, his figure dark against the firelight, eyes distant as usual. There was a heaviness in the air, a silence that weighed on both of us.

I’d been toying with whether or not to tell him, but after today, I couldn’t keep it to myself any longer. It was something Joel needed to know, something that would either ease his mind or make the road ahead even harder.

“Joel,” I said softly, not wanting to disturb Ellie’s sleep.

His head turned slightly, his eyes catching mine in the dim firelight. He didn’t say anything, just waited for me to speak.

“I’ve been thinking about Jackson,” I began, feeling the weight of the words before they even left my mouth. “And… there’s something you need to know.”

Joel gave a slight nod, signaling me to go on. I hesitated for a moment, gathering the courage.

“Tommy’s there,” I said, keeping my voice low but steady.

The moment the words left my lips, I saw the shift in him. His face didn’t betray much, but his posture stiffened. He didn’t react right away, though I could feel the tension building in his body. His jaw tightened, and for a long beat, he was silent, staring into the fire.

I let the words settle in the air. I could see him thinking, piecing together the years of separation, the anger, the hurt.

“You didn’t know, did you?” I asked quietly, already knowing the answer.

Joel’s eyes flicked up to meet mine, the weight of his past with Tommy hanging between us. “No,” he said, his voice rough, like the realization had hit him harder than he expected. “I thought… I thought he was dead.”

I swallowed, knowing how much those words meant. Joel had carried the guilt of losing Tommy for so long, thinking the worst, even when he didn’t want to believe it. I hadn’t expected the reaction I got—gratitude in his eyes, mixed with that edge of disbelief.

“Tommy’s alive, Joel,” I repeated, my voice softer now. “And he’s at Jackson. He’s been there, rebuilding, trying to make a life. I thought you should know.”

For a long moment, Joel didn’t speak. He just stared at the fire, his brow furrowed, a storm of emotions brewing behind his eyes.

Finally, he exhaled a long, steady breath, as if the news had knocked the wind out of him. “I thought… I thought I’d lost him for good,” he said, almost to himself.

His words trailed off, but the gratefulness in his voice was clear, almost as if he’d been holding onto the idea of Tommy being gone as a way to shield himself from hope. It had been easier to live with the belief that Tommy was lost than to think he might have been alive all this time, somewhere out there.

I watched him carefully, feeling the rawness of the moment between us. “Maybe he’s been waiting for you,” I said quietly, not wanting to push, but knowing the door was now open. “Maybe he’s been hoping you’d find your way back to him.”

Joel didn’t respond right away, his face unreadable. He ran a hand through his hair, the weight of the past catching up with him.

I could see the turmoil in him, the complex mix of emotions he’d buried deep for so long.“You don’t have to decide anything now. But I wanted you to know.”

Joel finally looked up at me, the hardness in his eyes softened by something else—relief, maybe. Or maybe just the shock of knowing his brother wasn’t lost to him after all.

“‘preciate you tellin’ me,” he said quietly, his voice rough with something I couldn’t quite name.

There was a silence, thick with all the things left unsaid. Joel turned back to the fire, but this time, I didn’t sense the same tension in him. The news had cracked something open, a small window of possibility where before there had only been despair.

And as the night stretched on, I couldn’t help but wonder if this was the first step in bringing Joel and Tommy back together—or if the past would remain an insurmountable wall between them. But one thing was clear: the hope he’d long buried was alive again.

The snow crunched softly beneath our boots as we trekked through the wilderness on the way to Jackson. The cold bit at my nose and cheeks, but it was nothing compared to the warmth of Joel and Ellie’s banter ahead of me.

Joel led the way, his rifle slung over one shoulder, his other hand gesturing as he explained something to Ellie. She hung onto his every word as usual, peppering him with questions about the terrain and wildlife.

“Do you think we’ll see any bears?” she asked, wide-eyed.

“Nope,” Joel replied gruffly. “Too cold for ‘em right now. They’re holed up for the winter.”

Ellie groaned in disappointment. “Lame. What about wolves?”

“Let’s hope not,” Joel muttered, throwing a glance over his shoulder. “You don’t wanna see wolves, trust me.”

“Speak for yourself,” Ellie grumbled, kicking at a chunk of ice. “I think wolves are badass.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle as I brought up the rear. Ellie’s energy was infectious, even if Joel often acted like he was too old to keep up.

We rounded a bend in the trail, and that’s when we saw it.

An elk.

It stood in the middle of the clearing, its tall, proud antlers stark against the white of the snow-covered forest. Its coat gleamed in the weak winter sunlight, steam rising from its breath as it exhaled into the cold air.

Ellie gasped audibly, her mouth falling open. “Whoa. No way.”

Joel stopped in his tracks, holding out an arm to keep her from running ahead. “Stay still,” he warned softly.

Ellie ignored him completely, taking a careful step forward. “Oh my god, it’s huge. It’s so cool.”

The elk’s ears twitched, swiveling toward us, and for a moment, I thought it might bolt. But instead, it let out a low, guttural bugle—a deep sound that echoed through the trees.

Ellie froze, her eyes going even wider. “Did you hear that? Holy shit, it talked to us!”

Joel chuckled under his breath, his shoulders relaxing as he watched her excitement. “That’s not talkin’, kid. Just elk bein’ elk.”

But Ellie wasn’t listening. She took another step forward, her hands lifted slightly as if to beckon the creature closer. “Hey, buddy,” she said in a soft, awestruck voice. “You don’t have to go. We’re cool, I promise.”

The elk snorted, its breath visible in the cold air, and then—with a graceful bound—it leapt into the trees, disappearing from sight.

Ellie whirled around to face us, practically vibrating with excitement. “Did you see that? That was the most amazing thing ever! Did you hear it? That noise was insane!”

Joel shook his head, but there was a small, fond smile on his face. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?”

“I’m serious! That was so badass!” She turned to me, her grin so big it lit up her entire face. “Y/n, tell me you got how cool that was.”

I couldn’t help but laugh as I adjusted my pack. “I got it, Ellie. You’re right—it was pretty incredible.”

Ellie groaned dramatically. “Pretty incredible? That thing was, like, majestic as hell.”

We started walking again, Ellie skipping along beside us as she reenacted the elk’s bugle. Joel shook his head at her impression, and I felt a warm glow in my chest as I watched them together.

The world outside was cold, dangerous, and unforgiving, but moments like this reminded me why we kept going. For Ellie’s wonder. For Joel’s quiet, steady presence. For the strange, beautiful family we’d become.

The cold cut deep as we trudged through the snow, the wind howling like it wanted to drive us into the ground. My leg throbbed with every step, the makeshift bandage Joel had wrapped around it holding tight but doing little to ease the pain. I wasn’t about to complain, though. Not after they saved me from those raiders.

Ellie walked beside me, her steps crunching in the snow as she glanced over. “You sure you’re okay?” she asked for the third time since we started walking.

“I’m fine,” I said, though my voice was tight. The truth was, I wasn’t fine. But what mattered was getting all of us somewhere safe, and Jackson was the only place I could think of.

Joel walked ahead, his rifle slung low but ready, his eyes scanning the horizon. Always the same—guarded and alert, like danger was lurking just around every corner. In this world, it usually was.

I’d agreed to help them get to Jackson. It was the least I could do after everything they’d done for me. And Jackson? It was my home now. A place that, for all its faults, still stood strong in a broken world.

“Not much farther now,” I said, though the storm had made it hard to tell. “If we keep moving, we’ll make it before dark.”

Ellie gave a tired nod, pulling her coat tighter around her. “Good, ‘cause I don’t think my toes are gonna make it.”

Joel glanced back at her, his expression softening for just a moment. “You’ll be fine. Just keep moving.”

We’d just crested a small hill when the sound of horses cut through the wind. My heart leapt into my throat as I turned to see them—figures on horseback emerging from the blinding snow, their weapons drawn.

“Joel,” I hissed, grabbing his arm.

He saw them too, his posture tensing as he stepped in front of Ellie and raised his rifle. “Stay behind me,” he muttered, his voice low and firm.

The riders spread out, circling us. There were at least six of them, their horses pawing at the snow as the riders aimed shotguns and rifles in our direction. My stomach churned as I recognized one of the voices calling out through the storm.

“Drop your weapons!” Maria shouted, her voice carrying over the wind.

“Maria!” I called back, stepping forward despite Joel’s arm shooting out to stop me. “It’s me—y/n!”

The tension in the air crackled like static. For a moment, no one moved. Then Maria urged her horse forward, squinting through the snow until recognition crossed her face.

“Y/n?” she said, lowering her shotgun slightly. “What the hell are you doing out here?”

“It’s a long story,” I said, relief flooding through me. “But these two—” I motioned to Joel and Ellie, who were still frozen in place. “They’re with me. They saved my life.”

Maria’s gaze shifted to Joel, her eyes narrowing. “That him?”

I blinked, confused, until realization dawned. Of course, Tommy must’ve mentioned Joel before.

“Yeah,” I said quickly. “It’s him. And this is Ellie. They’re just passing through. Please, Maria, lower the guns.”

Maria hesitated, her gaze flicking between me, Joel, and Ellie. Then she gave a sharp whistle, and the other riders lowered their weapons.

“Alright,” she said, her tone cautious but less hostile. “Let’s get back to Jackson. You look like hell.”

I almost laughed. “You have no idea.”

The ride back was quiet, the tension between Joel and Maria palpable. Ellie, for once, didn’t say much, her gaze fixed on the snowy landscape as we made our way through the storm.

When the gates of Jackson finally came into view, I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. The sight of the sturdy walls, the faint glow of firelight beyond—it was the first time in a long while that I felt like things might actually be okay.

The gates of Jackson creaked open as the group rode in, the heavy snowfall outside muffled by the sturdy wooden walls of the settlement. Inside, the warmth of fires and the sound of distant chatter greeted us. It was like stepping into another world—one where life hadn’t completely crumbled. The bustling streets, people moving with purpose, children playing—it was overwhelming after days of cold, silence, and death.

Joel dismounted his horse slowly, his eyes scanning the settlement as if it were a mirage. His rifle hung loosely on his shoulder, his posture stiff, as if he wasn’t quite ready to believe this place was real. Ellie stuck close to him, her eyes wide with curiosity as she took in the sight of people—families—living normal lives, or as close to normal as you could get these days.

Maria swung off her horse, handing the reins to a stablehand. “Y/n, go with Ethan and get checked out. You’re in no condition to be walking around on that leg,” she said, but her gaze flicked to Joel.

Then Tommy appeared.

Tommy was working on some construction, the sound of hammering and the distant clatter of tools filling the air. As we walked closer, I could see a few men working, their backs turned to us as they focused on their tasks. The moment I saw Tommy, though, my breath caught in my throat.

He was hard at work, his back bent as he nailed some boards into place, completely unaware of our approach. I could feel the tension rising in Joel beside me, the anticipation thick in the air.

And then, without warning, Joel’s voice broke through the stillness, loud and commanding:

“Tommy!”

The sound of his name cut through the air like a crack of thunder. The men working nearby stopped what they were doing, and for a brief moment, it felt like the entire world went still.

Tommy froze, his back still to us, and I watched as his shoulders stiffened. He slowly turned, his eyes scanning the area, before they landed on Joel. His face went slack for a moment—an unreadable mix of disbelief, relief, and confusion. The moment seemed to stretch on, as though neither of them quite believed what was happening.

Then, Tommy blinked, and before I knew it, he was striding across the ground, closing the distance between them. He didn’t say a word at first, just reached Joel in two quick strides and pulled him into a tight, almost desperate hug.

The sound of it—the weight of all that lost time between them—was deafening. The hard lines in Joel’s face softened, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he let out a deep breath, like something inside him had been released. They stood there for a moment, holding onto each other like nothing else mattered.

Tommy pulled back first, his hand gripping Joel’s arm, his voice gruff as he spoke, almost too soft for me to hear. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”

Joel looked at him, his eyes full of that familiar pain but also something else—something deeper. “Thought you were dead, Tommy.”

Tommy’s face softened, and for a moment, I saw a flicker of the brotherly bond they once shared. “Guess I got a bit tired of waitin’ around, but I’m here now, Joel.”

The silence between them spoke louder than any words could. It wasn’t just a reunion—it was a reckoning. Years of pain, of choices that had torn them apart, now coming to a head.

They pulled back, Tommy’s hands gripping Joel’s shoulders as he looked him over, his eyes scanning every line, every scar. “You look like hell,” he said with a half-smile, though his voice wavered.

Joel gave a faint huff of a laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah, well… it’s been a long road.”

Tommy’s gaze shifted, landing on Ellie, who was standing just behind Joel, watching the reunion with quiet curiosity. “And this must be…?”

“Yeah,” Joel said, stepping slightly to the side so Ellie could step forward. “This is Ellie.”

Ellie gave a small wave, clearly unsure of what to say. “Uh, hi.”

Tommy chuckled, the sound warm and genuine. “Well, any friend of Joel’s is welcome here.”

For the first time in a long time, the weight Joel carried seemed to ease, if only slightly. It wasn’t just Jackson that felt like a safe haven—it was the connection, the bond that hadn’t been broken, even after all this time.

And for a moment, it felt like the world wasn’t so heavy after all.

Joel walked slowly down the stairs, the creaking of the wooden steps the only sound in the quiet house. The dim light of the living room pooled on the floor, where I sat curled up on the couch, my eyes fixed on him as he approached. The tension in the air was palpable, thick with the weight of everything that had just transpired. His steps faltered slightly, the heaviness of the fight with Ellie still weighing on him.

I didn’t say anything at first, just watched him with an unreadable expression, the flickering light casting shadows across her face. He rubbed his hand over his face, feeling the exhaustion in his bones. The world felt quieter in moments like this, like it was holding its breath.

“You really think that’s the answer, huh?” I said, my tone biting but not cruel.

Joel didn’t meet my gaze right away, his hands shoved deep in his pockets.

He huffed out a bitter laugh, the kind that wasn’t funny at all. “Don’t start with me. You don’t know the half of it.”

“Don’t I?” I finally spun around to face him, my voice rising with the heat of my anger. “You think I haven’t been watching this slow-motion train wreck of yours? You think I don’t know what you’re doing—pushing her away before she can leave you?”

His face darkened, the shadows casting sharp lines across his features. “This ain’t about me and Ellie. Don’t twist it. This is about you always thinkin’ you know better.”

“Oh, so it’s my fault now?” I stepped closer, my hands trembling with fury. “You don’t get to stand here and act like you’re the only one who’s been hurt. You let me leave, Joel! You stood there and let me walk out of Boston like I was nothing to you. You never even tried to stop me.”

His silence hit harder than his words ever could. I saw his throat work, his jaw tightening as he stared at me like he was trying to break me down with his gaze alone.

“You wanted to leave,” he finally said, his voice quieter but no less cutting. “What the hell was I supposed to do? Beg? You made your choice.”

“Because you didn’t give me a reason to stay!” My voice cracked, the words laced with all the pain I’d kept buried for far too long. “Do you know what it was like, leaving behind everything—leaving you—because I thought I wasn’t enough? That I’d never be enough for you?”

The firelight flickered in his eyes, and for the first time, I saw it—the guilt, the regret. He took a step closer, his broad shoulders sagging under the weight of unspoken words.

“Y/n…” He said my name like it hurt to say it. “I thought I was doin’ right by you. You deserved better than what I could give you. Still do.”

I let out a bitter laugh, shaking my head as tears threatened to spill. “You’re such a goddamn coward, Joel. Always thinking you know what’s best for everyone else. You don’t get to decide what I deserve. You don’t get to—”

But before I could finish, he closed the distance between us in one sudden, desperate motion. His hands came up to cup my face, rough palms trembling against my skin. His breath was warm, ragged as it ghosted over my lips.

“I ain’t a coward,” he murmured, his voice raw.

I opened my mouth to argue, to push him away like I had every right to, but the words caught in my throat. His eyes burned into mine, and in that moment, everything else—the fight, the years of distance, the pain—faded into nothing.

He kissed me like a man starved, like he was afraid I might disappear if he didn’t hold on tight enough. My hands found their way to his chest, gripping the worn fabric of his flannel as I kissed him back with all the anger and longing I’d been too afraid to admit.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t gentle. It was years of unspoken feelings, of missed chances and buried love, all colliding in one explosive moment.

When we finally broke apart, his forehead rested against mine, both of us breathing hard. His hands lingered on my face, his thumbs brushing away the tears I hadn’t realized had fallen.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “For Boston. For everything.”

I closed my eyes, my fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. “Me too,” I whispered back, my voice trembling.

For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of our breathing and the crackle of the fire. And for the first time in years, I didn’t feel so alone.

[oldsoul007]

every breath you take

joel miller x reader

summary: jackson was perfect for the most part until it wasn’t, you get really worried when Joel and Tommy go out on patrol and never come back

a/n: angstyy, this is sorta a “rewrite” if you will, let me know if y’all want a part ii…

joel miller masterlist

The warm glow of the lanterns strung above the Jackson town square created a magical ambiance, the laughter and music of the town dance filling the crisp night air. I was in Joel’s arms, my hand resting gently on his shoulder as we swayed to the melody. Despite the crowd, it felt like we were the only two there, lost in our own little world. Joel’s rugged charm and quiet confidence had drawn me in months ago, and every moment since had only strengthened my feelings for him.

I caught the soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips, a rare sight that made my heart flutter. Joel was complicated—worn by the weight of his past—but with me, he seemed to allow himself fleeting moments of peace.

Suddenly, the music was interrupted by a loud commotion. My gaze shifted to the edge of the dance floor, where Ellie and Dina stood, their smiles replaced by tense expressions. A man was shouting, his words venomous and cutting through the cheerful atmosphere like a knife.

“That’s just what we need, another loud mouthed d*ke,” he spat, his tone laced with hate.

I felt Joel stiffen beside me, his entire body tensing. I knew that look, that spark of protective anger that flared in his eyes. Before I could say anything, he was already moving toward the source of the disturbance.

“Joel, wait—” I called after him, but he didn’t stop.

By the time he reached the man, Ellie was already closing in, her hands clenched into fists. Joel stepped between them, shoving the man back firmly but not violently, creating space before Ellie could get any closer.

“Get the hell out of here,” Joel growled, his voice low and commanding.

“Get your hands off me” The man stumbled but didn’t retreat entirely, glaring at Joel with defiance.

“You alright kiddo?” Joel asked walking toward Ellie.

“What is wrong with you?” Ellie demanded, her voice sharp as she fixed Joel with a glare.

“He had no right,” Joel replied, his tone firm but calm.

“And you do?” Ellie shot back, her anger cutting through the air. “I don’t need your fucking help, Joel”

Joel faltered for a moment, his expression hard to read. I could see the tension in his jaw, the quiet battle between his need to protect Ellie and the reality that she didn’t want him to.

Without another word, he turned and walked away, his shoulders stiff with frustration. I hesitated, glancing back at Ellie, who was still fuming, before deciding to follow him.

I found Joel near the outskirts of the square, his back to me as he stared out into the dark horizon.

“Hey, You okay?” I asked softly, stepping beside him.

Joel didn’t look at me right away, his gaze fixed on the distance. “She don’t need me no more,” he said finally, his voice tinged with sadness.

“That’s not true,” I replied, placing a gentle hand on his arm. “But Joel… Ellie could’ve handled Seth.”

He turned to look at me then, his expression a mix of frustration and vulnerability. “She shouldn’t have to,” he muttered.

“I know,” I said, my voice steady. “But sometimes protecting someone means letting them handle things their way.”

He nodded slowly, my words sinking in. The two of us stood there in silence for a moment, the distant sounds of the dance continuing behind us. I laced my fingers with his, offering silent reassurance.

Joel didn’t look at me right away, his gaze fixed on the distance. “She still hates me for what I did,” he said finally, his voice low and heavy.

“She doesn’t hate you,” I replied, placing a gentle hand on his arm.

“She’s got every reason to,” he muttered. “I lied to her. Took away her choice. It ain’t something you just forgive.”

I sighed, squeezing his arm gently. “Maybe not, but she’s still here. That means something.”

Joel turned to look at me then, his expression a mix of frustration and vulnerability. “It’s hard watchin’ her hate me when all I wanna do is protect her.”

We stood there in silence for a moment, the distant sounds of the dance continuing behind us. I laced my fingers with his, offering silent reassurance.

Whatever storm raged inside Joel—whatever distance still lingered between him and Ellie—I was determined to help him navigate it. We’d made it this far together, as a family. I wasn’t about to give up now.

Whatever storm raged inside Joel, I was determined to weather it with him. Together.

The house was quiet, save for the faint creak of the old wooden floor beneath my feet as I moved through the kitchen. I’d been tidying up, distracting myself from the heaviness of the night’s events. The front porch window was open, letting in the cool night air, and through it, I could hear the soft, familiar strumming of Joel’s guitar.

I paused for a moment, leaning on the counter and letting the sound wash over me. There was something about the way Joel played—steady, thoughtful, like every note carried a piece of him. It always managed to soothe my mind, no matter how tense things felt.

But then, just faintly, I caught the sound of footsteps on the porch. My brow furrowed as I turned toward the window. Joel’s playing had stopped abruptly.

Peeking out, I saw Ellie standing there, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. She looked hesitant, like she’d been pacing before finally working up the nerve to stop. I stayed inside, watching quietly as Joel set the guitar down and stood to face her.

Their voices were low, too quiet to make out, but I could see the tension in their stances. Joel stood still, his hands resting on his hips, while Ellie shifted from foot to foot, her face a mix of frustration and something else—something softer.

I let them be. Whatever they were talking about wasn’t for me to interrupt.

A while later, after finishing up in the kitchen, I climbed into bed. Joel still hadn’t come up, but I figured he needed time to think. He always did after heavy conversations, especially when it came to Ellie.

When I heard the soft creak of the door opening, I looked up. Joel stood there, framed by the dim light from the hallway. He didn’t step in right away, just lingered in the doorway like he wasn’t sure if he should. His shoulders were slumped, and the way he avoided my eyes told me everything before he even said a word.

“You okay?” I asked, keeping my voice soft.

He finally closed the door behind him and nodded, but it was the kind of nod that didn’t mean much. “Ellie stopped by,” he said after a moment, his voice quiet.

I nod as I sat up slightly, resting my weight on my elbows.

Joel let out a slow breath, his shoulders relaxing just a fraction. “She said… she’ll try.”

The words hung in the air for a moment, heavy with meaning.

I reached out, placing my hand on his back. “That’s something,” I said softly.

He nodded, his gaze fixed on the floor. “Yeah. It is.”

I nodded, though the heaviness in his tone left an ache in my chest. Joel wasn’t one to open up easily, not about things that mattered, but I’d learned to read him over time. The tightness in his jaw, the way his hands hung at his sides like they didn’t know what to do with themselves—he was carrying too much again.

I didn’t ask him to explain. He would, if and when he was ready. Instead, I patted the space next to me on the bed.

“Come here,” I said quietly.

Joel turned then, finally meeting my eyes. There was a hint of relief there, though it was guarded, like he didn’t quite dare to hope. I gave him a small smile, sliding closer to wrap my arms around him.

“She loves you, Joel,” I murmured. “She’s just trying to figure out how to deal with it all.”

He rested his forehead against mine, his voice barely above a whisper. “I hope you’re right.”

I leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his jaw before settling my head against his chest. His hand slid up my back, warm and steady, and I felt the tension in his body start to melt away.

We didn’t need words tonight. The quiet was enough, his presence beside me enough. As his breathing slowed and evened out, I brushed my fingers through his hair absently, watching him fall asleep.

It wasn’t long before my own eyelids grew heavy, and I let myself drift off, safe in the warmth of his arms. For this moment, at least, the world outside didn’t matter.

The faint sound of boots on the wooden floor stirred me from sleep. At first, I didn’t move, my body still heavy with the warmth of the blankets and the lingering pull of dreams. But when I heard the soft creak of the bedroom door opening, I blinked my eyes open to see Joel standing in the dim light of dawn, his broad frame silhouetted against the faint glow coming through the window.

“Joel?” I mumbled, my voice thick with sleep. I pushed myself up onto one elbow, squinting at him. “What time is it?”

“Early,” he said quietly, his voice low and steady, the way it always was when he was trying not to wake me fully. But there was something in his tone—something careful.

“What’s going on?” I asked, sitting up fully now.

“Maria’s sendin’ me and Tommy out. Couple folks said they heard infected near the ski lodge, just outside the fences.”

That woke me up completely. I sat up straighter, the blankets pooling around my waist. “What kind of reports?”

“Couple folks said they heard ‘em,” Joel said with a shrug. “Probably nothin’, but we don’t want to take chances.”

I frowned, rubbing at my eyes before meeting his gaze. “Then let me go with you.”

Joel shook his head immediately, stepping closer to the bed. “Ain’t no need for that, y/n. Me and Tommy can handle it.”

“It’s not about whether you can handle it,” I argued, my voice sharper now. “If there’s a group of infected, wouldn’t it be better to have more people out there? Just in case?”

Joel sighed, sitting down on the edge of the bed. He reached out to rest a hand on my knee, his touch warm and familiar. “It’s not gonna turn into somethin’ bigger. We’ll be back before you even start to worry.”

I gave him a look, folding my arms. “You know I’m going to worry the second you walk out that door, right?”

He gave me a faint smile, the kind that softened the hard edges of his face. “I know. But you don’t need to be out there every time somethin’ like this comes up. You deserve a night off, y/n.”

I huffed, leaning back against the headboard. “Fine. But you’d better come back in one piece, or I’m dragging you and Tommy back here myself.”

Joel chuckled, leaning over to press a kiss to my lips. “I’ll be back, darlin’. You don’t gotta worry about that.”

I watched as he stood, grabbing his gear and slinging his rifle over his shoulder. He paused in the doorway, glancing back at me with that faint, knowing smile.

“Get some rest. I’ll see you soon.”

I studied his face, trying to decide if I should push back, but the way he looked at me—steady and reassuring—made me stop. He always had a way of making me believe him, even when I didn’t want to.

“I love you,” I said quietly, the words slipping out without much thought.

Joel paused, turning back to look at me. His expression softened, the faintest smile tugging at his lips. “I love you too, y/n.”

I watched as he stepped into the hallway, his boots creaking on the wooden floor. The door closed a moment later, the sound faint but final.

I laid back down, staring up at the ceiling, trying to shake the unease in my chest. I’d said “I love you” a hundred times before, but something about this time felt different—like I hadn’t realized it might be the last.

And with that, he was gone, the door creaking shut behind him. I laid back down, staring up at the ceiling as the quiet settled back over the house.

Joel always came back—but that didn’t stop the unease from sitting heavy in my chest as I listened to the distant sound of his boots fade into the night.

The cold bit through my gloves as I fastened the strap of my pack. Patrols were usually dull—staring into a white wasteland of nothing and praying it stayed that way. But something about the morning felt… off. The sky was too heavy, and the wind howled like it knew something I didn’t.

“Y/n!” Jesse’s voice cut through the noise as he jogged toward me, snow crunching beneath his boots. His breath puffed white in the air, and his expression was tighter than usual. “You ready? We’re up for the lookout.”

I pulled my hood tighter and nodded. “Tommy and Joel are still there, right?”

“Supposed to be,” he said, his tone clipped. “Let’s go check in and swap shifts.”

We trudged through the snow, the trees around us bending under the weight of frost. Jesse kept the conversation light—something about a stupid bet with Manny—but I could see the same unease in his eyes that I felt in my gut.

When we reached the lookout, my stomach dropped.

Empty.

The door hung ajar, snow drifting into the cabin like it owned the place. No sign of Tommy. No sign of Joel.

“This isn’t right,” I muttered, scanning the room. “They wouldn’t just leave.”

Jesse stepped in, jaw tight as he swept his flashlight across the interior. Supplies were scattered, but nothing screamed fight. No blood, no overturned furniture. Just… absence.

“They didn’t radio in,” Jesse said under his breath, almost to himself.

“What now?” I asked, heart thudding harder.

The wind howled outside the tower as I adjusted my scarf, pulling it tighter around my neck. Jessie sat across from me, fiddling with the straps on his rifle, his expression tight with concern. We’d been here for hours, long past the point when Joel and Tommy were supposed to relieve us.

“Something’s wrong,” I said, my voice tense, glancing out the window at the snowstorm swirling outside. The visibility was getting worse by the minute, and my chest tightened with worry. Joel wasn’t one to miss a patrol, not without a damn good reason.

Jessie stood, slinging his rifle over his shoulder. “We should head out. Let Ellie and Dina know.”

I didn’t argue. The unease in my gut had been growing since the first hour they were overdue, and sitting around wasn’t going to do us any good. Grabbing my gear, I followed Jessie out into the biting cold, where our horses were waiting just outside the tower.

Ranger, my chestnut gelding, pawed at the snow anxiously as I mounted up, his breath visible in the freezing air. I leaned down to pat his neck, trying to calm both of us. “C’mon, boy. Let’s go.”

We rode back to where Ellie and Dina were as quickly as the storm would allow, the snow biting at my face and stinging my eyes. By the time we reached the stables, I was frozen to the bone, but that didn’t matter. I needed to find Joel.

Ellie and Dina were in the Eugene Linden's hideout. They looked up the moment Jessie and I burst in, snow clinging to our clothes.

“Why aren’t you at the fucking look out?” Dina asked, her brows furrowing.

“Tommy and Joel never showed up,” Jessie said, cutting straight to the point.

“What?,” Ellie asked as she stood up.

Dinas expression immediately serious. “How late are we talking?”

“Hours,” I said, my voice tight as I brushed the snow from my jacket. “We waited as long as we could, but… something’s not right.”

Ellie’s jaw tightened, and she grabbed her gear without hesitation. “Then we go find them.”

The four of us were out the door in minutes, the urgency unspoken but understood. We saddled up and split to cover more ground.

Ranger’s hooves crunched through the snow as I urged him forward, my eyes scanning the white expanse for any sign of Joel or Tommy. The storm was relentless, the wind cutting through my layers and making it harder to see.

My chest felt heavy, the cold sinking into my bones as my mind raced with worst-case scenarios. Joel wasn’t invincible, no matter how much I wanted to believe he was. If something had happened out here… I shook the thought away.

We pressed on, the snowstorm making the search feel endless. Every second that passed without finding them made my heart pound harder. Joel was out there somewhere, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was very, very wrong.

“C’mon, Joel,” I muttered under my breath, gripping Ranger’s reins tighter. “Where are you?”

The storm raged on, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t stopping until I found him. Until I brought him back.

[oldsoul007]

not a lot, just forever

joel miller x reader

summary: joel keeps grieving about what could’ve been of you two had kids…

a/n: angsty but also fluffy

joel miller masterlist

Joel leaned against the weathered railing of the porch, the cool evening breeze ruffling his shirt as he watched y/n through the open door. She was inside the house, cradling Tommy and Maria’s baby in her arms, her soft laughter mingling with the gentle cooing of the infant.

The sight hit him harder than he expected.

He had seen y/n with children before—she was great with them, always patient, always so gentle. But seeing her hold that tiny, perfect little thing, with a look on her face that could only be described as tender longing, made something shift deep in Joel’s chest. It was a quiet ache, one that had been there for years but had never been so sharp before.

He knew that look. He had seen it in the way she held Sarah when she was younger, the way she’d always cared for the people around her. But now, watching her with Tommy and Maria’s baby, he realized something he’d never allowed himself to think too deeply about: the family she might’ve wanted—the life they could’ve had—was a dream that had been stolen from both of them by the outbreak.

Joel clenched his jaw, trying to swallow down the lump in his throat.

It wasn’t fair.

Not to y/n. Not to anyone, really. They had lost so much, so much that words couldn’t even begin to explain. But when he saw her, holding that baby, a different kind of loss settled over him, one that felt heavier than the weight of everything else.

He could never give her that. He could never be the man who could offer her the kind of future she deserved. He had tried, in the early days, to imagine a life beyond survival. But he knew better now. Every time he let his guard down, every time he allowed himself to hope for something, the world seemed to take it all away again. And this… this was one thing he could never give her—something simple, something pure: a family. A child of their own.

He pushed himself off the railing and took a deep breath. The ache in his chest was still there, gnawing at him, but he wouldn’t let it show. Not now. Not when y/n was happy, not when she was in a moment that brought her peace. She didn’t need him to carry that weight for her.

Stepping inside, he paused in the doorway, watching her with the baby in her arms. She was smiling down at the infant, her eyes soft with a mixture of affection and something Joel couldn’t quite name. She looked up and caught his gaze, her smile widening in that way that always made his chest tighten, even in moments like this.

“Hey,” I said softly, my voice warm and inviting. “Come on in. Maria said we could keep her for a little while longer.”

Joel nodded, his throat tight. He didn’t trust himself to say much, not with the lump still lodged there. Instead, he stepped closer, his footsteps quiet on the wooden floor.

He reached out, brushing a lock of hair from my face. I tilted my head slightly, my smile turning into something softer, understanding.

“I know,” I said quietly, reading him in a way only I could. “I know what you’re thinking.”

Joel gave a small shake of his head. “I don’t know what you mean.”

I didn’t push, just offered him a look that was equal parts sadness and understanding. “It’s okay, Joel,” I murmured, my hand reaching out to rest on his. “I’m okay. We’re okay. It’s just… a moment.”

He swallowed hard, his hand trembling slightly as he placed it over hers. “I should’ve been able to give you that,” he said before he could stop himself, the words spilling out before he could rein them in.

I was silent for a moment, my gaze flicking to the baby in my arms before meeting his eyes again. “You gave me so much more than that,” I replied, my voice steady but full of emotion. “You gave me your trust. Your love. And you gave me the chance to live again, to be here. That’s all I’ve ever needed, Joel.”

The words settled over him like a balm, soothing the raw ache that had been gnawing at him. He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, and for the first time in what felt like forever, the heaviness lifted, even if just a little.

He looked at her, really looked at her—the woman who had stayed by his side through the worst of it all. And in that moment, he realized that he didn’t need to give her the things he’d lost. What mattered was the life they had now, the one they were building together, despite everything that had come before.

He took the baby from my arms, his hands steady as he held the tiny life against his chest. She smiled softly at him, the love in her eyes undeniable.

And for once, Joel allowed himself to believe that maybe this—just this—was enough.

I sit on the couch, staring out the window at the setting sun, trying to settle the mix of emotions swirling in my chest. I know Joel’s been brooding; I could feel it even before he walked into the room. His footsteps are soft but heavy, his presence unmistakable as he steps inside

He doesn’t say anything right away, just stands there in the doorway. I can feel his eyes on me, on the empty bassinet where the baby had been sleeping earlier.

I don’t look at him. Instead, I say, “You’ve been quiet all day.”

He lets out a low sigh, stepping further into the room. “Just been thinkin’.”

I nod, knowing what’s coming but not sure I want to hear it.

“She is… somethin’ else, wasn’t she?” he says after a moment, his voice soft. “You looked good with her, y/n. Real good.”

I finally turn to look at him, leaning back into the couch. “She’s a sweet baby. But you know it’s not about her, Joel. Just say what you’re thinking.”

He hesitates, his eyes drifting back to the bassinet. ���I can’t help it,” he finally says, his voice thick with emotion. “Holdin’ her, watchin’ you with her… I keep thinkin’ about what could’ve been. If the world hadn’t fallen apart. If we’d had a chance to…” He trails off, his voice catching. “To have a family of our own.”

My stomach twists, and I take a steadying breath. “Joel…”

He shakes his head, looking down at the floor. “I think about Sarah, about how things might’ve been different. I think about Ellie. And then I see you with that baby, and all I can think is… we never got the chance.”

I sit up, folding my hands in my lap. I know this pain. I feel it too, but I’ve had years to reckon with it, to make peace with what life took from us. “What do you want me to say, Joel?” I ask softly. “That I wish we could’ve had kids together? Of course I do. There was a time when I wanted that more than anything.”

He looks at me then, his face a mix of regret and longing, his hands still shoved deep into his pockets.

“But that’s not how life worked out,” I continue, my voice steady even as my heart aches. “And it’s okay to feel the loss of what could’ve been. But Joel, you’re all I need. You always have been.”

He stares at me for a long moment, his jaw tight, his eyes searching mine. “You mean that?”

I nod, giving him a small, sad smile. “I do. We’ve been through hell and back, Joel. And I wouldn’t trade what we have for anything. I just need you. That’s enough for me.”

Joel exhales slowly, like he’s been holding his breath. “I’m sorry, y/n,” he says quietly. “For not seein’ it sooner. For… not bein’ enough.”

I reach out, taking his hand in mine, squeezing it gently. “You are enough. You’ve always been enough. We’re here now, Joel. That’s what matters.”

The room falls quiet again, but the tension has eased. Joel sits down beside me on the couch, his shoulder brushing against mine. He doesn’t say anything else, and neither do I.

The bassinet is empty, but the space between us feels full—of love, of pain, of all the things we’ve lost and found together. And as the sun dips below the horizon, I lean into him, letting the silence say everything that words can’t.

“She’s lucky to have you watchin’ over her,” he says, his voice lighter now.

“And she’s lucky to have you around too,” I reply, a small smile tugging at my lips. “Uncle Joel has a nice ring to it.”

He chuckles, the faintest hint of a smile on his face. “Guess it does.”

We stand there for a moment, the weight of the past still there but just a little easier to carry. For now, that’s enough.

[oldsoul007]

breaking walls

qz!joel miller x reader

summary: y/n couldn’t hide her true feelings for joel anymore after finding peace in each other for so long

joel miller masterlist

The quarantine zone was a place where life was as unpredictable as the weather—people fought for scraps, made deals in the shadows, and tried to carve out some semblance of normalcy amidst the chaos. I had learned how to survive in the QZ, how to navigate the dangerous, grim reality. But there was one part of my life that I couldn’t quite keep under control: Joel Miller.

Joel was a gruff, no-nonsense man with a hard exterior, the kind of guy who kept his emotions buried so deep it was hard to tell where the man ended and the walls he’d built around himself began. I’d known him for a while, and what started as an occasional exchange of favors—a little help with some scrounged goods, a quiet drink shared at the local bar—had evolved into something… more.

But not too much more.

We’d never put a label on it, but there was something between us. We were friends… with benefits. That was how it worked, and it was enough, I told herself. I didn’t need more, especially not with the world we lived in. I’d settled into the role, knowing full well what I was getting into. No attachments. No expectations.

At least, that was the plan.

The day I walked into Joel’s rundown apartment, something felt different. It had been a long, rough week, and I had hoped the usual exchange of heated glances and quiet, comforting moments would help ease the tension. But as soon as I stepped through the door, Joel was already there—waiting. His usual gruff demeanor was softened by something else, something I couldn’t place. His eyes met me with an intensity that made my heart skip.

Before I could even say a word, he was on me. His lips crushed against mine, urgent, desperate. I was taken off guard, but I responded, my hands finding his chest, pulling him closer. His grip tightened, like he was trying to pull me into him, to fuse our bodies together. It was raw, intense—a passion that surprised me.

But even as I kissed him back, something inside me recoiled.

This was never supposed to happen.

I pulled away, breathless, my fingers still tangled in his shirt. I looked up at him, my eyes searching his face for any sign of understanding.

“Joel…” I began, but my voice faltered.

He reached for me again, his lips brushing my cheek, but I pulled back, stepping out of his grasp.

“No,” I whispered, shaking my head. “I can’t keep doing this.”

His expression shifted to something unreadable, his brow furrowing slightly, but his body tensed, like he was bracing for something.

“What do you mean?” he asked, his voice rough, a little confused.

I took a step back, my heart pounding. “I can’t keep pretending this doesn’t mean something. I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel something for you. I—” My voice broke, the weight of my words crashing down on me.

Joel stood there, silent, his expression closed off. He didn’t move toward me, didn’t try to fix it. He just… stood there.

My chest tightened, my eyes filling with frustration and pain. “I can’t keep doing this, Joel. Not anymore. I can’t keep giving myself to you when all you do is shut me out.”

He opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but no words came out. His lips pressed together in a thin line, and his gaze never left mine.

With a deep, shaky breath, I turned and hurried out of the apartment, the door slamming behind me with a finality that echoed in the stillness of the QZ.

For weeks after that, Joel kept trying to talk to me—always the same routine. He would catch me at the market or outside the walls of the compound, his voice low and apologetic, his eyes full of regret.

“I’m not mad, you know,” he’d say. “Just need to understand what you’re saying.”

But I couldn’t bring myself to look at him. I couldn’t bring herself to listen. I was angry, hurt, and scared. I didn’t want to feel this way. I wanted to move on, to forget about him and his damn walls. But I couldn’t.

I loved him.

And it tore me apart.

One afternoon, after yet another long, silent stretch between us, I was walking through the streets of the QZ when I heard footsteps behind me. I spun around, half-expecting it to be one of the usual assholes trying to sell me fake goods—but it was Joel. Again.

“Y/n,” he said, his voice strained but determined. “Can we talk?”

I closed my eyes for a moment, resisting the urge to scream.

“Joel, please—”

But before I could walk away, he grabbed my arm, his grip firm but not aggressive. “Just… let me talk,” he said. His eyes softened, and for the first time in a long time, I saw the man behind the walls—the vulnerability that was always buried so deep. “I need you to understand something.”

I pulled my arm free, but instead of walking away, I just… stopped.

Joel took a deep breath, stepping closer to me. “I can’t… I couldn’t let anyone in after Sarah. You know that, right? I didn’t know how to. But damn it, y/n… I didn’t want to lose you. I didn’t want to make this a mess, but I can’t keep pretending like I don’t feel something for you. I love you.”

The words hit me like a freight train, leaving me breathless. I opened my mouth to respond, but no sound came out.

“I love you, okay?” Joel continued, his voice cracking with emotion. “I just… didn’t know how to let anyone in again. I didn’t know if I could survive it. But I can’t—” He shook his head, frustration evident in his voice. “I can’t stay away from you, y/n. I don’t want to anymore.”

My breath hitched as my eyes filled with tears. I blinked them away, stepping closer to him. For the first time in forever, the walls between us were gone. He was finally letting me in.

“You mean it?” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

Joel nodded, his hands reaching for me, pulling me close. “I do. I’m sorry it took me this long to figure it out."

I didn't say anything else.

I closed the distance, wrapping my arms around him and kissing him deeply, pouring every ounce of love I’d kept locked away into that kiss.

We both knew the world outside wasn't kind, but for the first time in a long time, it didn't matter.

In each other's arms, we were finally free of the walls we’d both been hiding behind.

[oldsoul007]

second chance

joel miller x teacher!reader

summary: y/n, Sarah’s first-grade teacher, and Joel, Sarah’s dad, find themselves drawn together through their shared care for Sarah, their connection growing from school meetings into an unexpected and heartfelt romance.

joel miller masterlist

The leaves of Austin, Texas, shimmered in hues of orange and red, signaling the heart of fall. Joel Miller stood at the edge of the elementary school’s drop-off line, hands shoved deep into his jeans pockets, watching as Sarah, his spirited seven-year-old, skipped toward the school building. Her ponytail bobbed as she waved at her friends and dashed inside. Joel smiled faintly, but his expression shifted to curiosity when Sarah stopped and turned to hug her teacher—a woman he’d only seen from afar.

Y/n L/n, Sarah’s first-grade teacher, was kind-eyed and quick to laugh, with a warm presence that immediately put parents at ease. Joel, however, had been distant. Ever since Sarah’s mom left years ago, he’d been cautious with relationships—friendly, but reserved. He was a father first, and everything else came second.

But as I turned, our eyes met briefly. I smiled—soft and genuine.

“Mr. Miller, right?” I called, walking over.

“Uh, yeah. Joel,” he said, his Texan drawl thick.

I extended a hand. “I’m y/n l/n. Sarah’s been telling me all about you.”

Joel raised a brow. “She has?”

“Oh, yes. Apparently, you make the best pancakes in all of Texas,” I said with a teasing grin.

Joel chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “Well, I don’t know about all of Texas, but she seems to think so.”

For a moment, we stood there, the autumn breeze weaving around us.

Joel wasn’t used to small talk, but there was something disarming about y/n—something that made him want to linger.

“I’m having a parent-teacher night next week,” I said. “You should come by. It’s a good chance to meet other parents and… you know, see some of Sarah’s work.”

Joel nodded. “Yeah, sure. I’ll be there.”

When the night arrived, Joel found himself standing in the brightly decorated classroom, surrounded by miniature desks and crayon artwork. Y/n moved through the room gracefully, greeting parents and answering questions. Joel stayed near Sarah’s desk, pretending to study her carefully written alphabet chart.

“Joel,” my voice cut through his thoughts. I stood beside him, holding two cups of punch.

“Thought you might need a drink,” I said.

“Thanks,” he said, taking the cup.

We chatted about Sarah—her love for reading, her knack for storytelling, and her stubborn determination. Joel found himself laughing more than he had in ages, and y/ns laughter was like sunlight breaking through clouds.

“Can I be honest?” I said after a pause.

“’Course.”

“I think Sarah gets her storytelling from you.”

Joel blinked, caught off guard. “Me? I’m not much of a storyteller.”

I tilted my head. “I don’t know. I think you have stories to tell—you just don’t share them.”

For a moment, Joel was quiet. Then, he said softly, “Maybe you’re right.”

Over the weeks that followed, Joel found excuses to linger after drop-offs or pick-ups. I would share stories about Sarah’s day, and Joel would offer small glimpses into his life. Slowly, the walls he’d built around himself began to crack.

One evening, I invited him and Sarah to the school’s fall festival. We walked the pumpkin patch together, Sarah running ahead to pick the biggest pumpkin I could carry. Joel and I trailed behind, our hands brushing occasionally as we laughed at Sarah’s antics.

“She’s a good kid,” I said.

“She’s my whole world,” Joel replied.

I hesitated before asking, “And what about you? What’s your world look like?”

Joel glanced at me, his heart thudding. “It’s been mostly just her. But… maybe there’s room for more.”

I smiled, my cheeks tinged pink. “I hope so.”

Joel Miller was pushing a squeaky grocery cart down the cereal aisle, trying to decide between Sarah’s favorite sugary treat and something a little less likely to send her bouncing off the walls. The seven-year-old was a master negotiator, but Joel was determined to stand his ground this time.

“Daddy, this one,” Sarah insisted, holding up a box of chocolate puffs with cartoon marshmallows grinning on the front.

“Sarah,” Joel drawled, pointing at the label, “this is more sugar than you need in a week.”

Sarah pouted. “But it’s got a toy inside!”

Joel shook his head, smiling faintly. “Nice try, kiddo. How ’bout we compromise? You can pick the granola bars.”

Sarah rolled her eyes, muttering something about how compromises were just “grown-up tricks,” but she skipped off to the next aisle. Joel chuckled to himself and turned back to the shelves.

“Fancy meeting you here,” a familiar voice said behind him.

Joel turned, and his heart did a funny little stutter. Y/n, Sarah’s first-grade teacher, stood there with a basket in hand. She looked different outside of the classroom—more relaxed, almost vulnerable—and it caught him off guard.

“Y/n,” he said, his voice warmer than he’d intended. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Same,” I replied with a smile. “Though I suppose teachers have to eat too, right?”

Joel chuckled. “Fair point.”

We stood there for a beat, the hum of fluorescent lights filling the silence. Joel wasn’t usually one for small talk, but something about y/n made him want to keep the conversation going.

“Daddy!” Sarah reappeared, clutching a box of granola bars. “Can I get these?”

Joel glanced at the box. “Good choice, kiddo.”

Sarah beamed, then noticed y/n. Her face lit up. “Miss L/n! What are you doing here?”

“Hi, Sarah,” I said, crouching down to her level. “Just getting some groceries. What about you?”

“Daddy wouldn’t let me get the good cereal,” Sarah said with exaggerated indignation, crossing her arms.

I laughed, glancing up at Joel. “Strict dad, huh?”

Joel shrugged, a grin tugging at his lips. “Gotta keep her in line somehow.”

I stood, my smile lingering. “Well, I should probably let you two finish shopping, but it was nice running into you.”

Before Joel could stop himself, he blurted, “You could, uh… join us. If you’re not in a hurry.”

I hesitated, my cheeks flushing slightly. “I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“Miss l/n, you have to come with us,” Sarah said, grabbing my hand. “It’ll be fun!”

Joel gave me a small, almost shy smile. “What do you say?”

I glanced between us, then nodded. “Alright. Lead the way.”

As we navigated the aisles together, Joel was struck by how natural it all felt. I teased him about his choice of coffee, while Sarah chattered nonstop about her latest art project at school.

“Joel, you do know this instant stuff barely qualifies as coffee, right?” I said, holding up the jar he’d tossed into the cart.

“It does the job,” Joel said defensively.

I laughed, a light, melodic sound that Joel realized he liked far too much.

In the midst of our conversation, an elderly lady passing by smiled warmly at the little family and remarked, “What a cute family you are!” Joel, ever the reserved one, gave a polite nod, though his lips twitched with a slight smile. Sarah, grinning from ear to ear, looked at her dad for confirmation, and he responded with a soft chuckle. It was one of those rare moments where the world around us felt a little brighter, even in the mundane setting of a grocery store.

The encounter was short, but it left all of us with a small sense of connection and warmth as we continued with our shopping. It was a reminder that sometimes, even the simplest moments could feel special when shared with the right people.

By the time we reached the produce section, Sarah had darted off to examine a display of apples, leaving Joel and I by ourselves.

“This is nice,” y/n said softly, glancing at him.

Joel looked at me, looking surprised by my honesty. “Yeah,” he admitted. “It is.”

We stood there for a moment, the bustle of the store fading into the background. Joel wanted to say more—to tell her that he’d been thinking about her since the first parent-teacher night, that he hadn’t felt this comfortable around someone in years—but before he could, Sarah ran back, clutching an apple in each hand.

“Look, Daddy! Red or green?”

Joel smiled. “Both, kiddo.”

At the checkout, I placed my basket on the counter, glancing at Joel and Sarah. “I’ll let you two go ahead. Thanks for letting me tag along.”

“Miss L/n, are you coming to dinner with us?” Sarah asked, her big brown eyes hopeful.

Joel stiffened, his heart hammering in his chest. “Sarah, don’t—”

“I’d love to,” I said, cutting him off. My smile was soft but genuine, and my eyes met Joel’s. “If that’s okay with your dad.”

Joel cleared his throat, trying to ignore the heat creeping up his neck. “Yeah. Sure. Why not?”

Sarah cheered, and I laughed.

As they left the store together, Joel found himself thinking that maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t just an ordinary grocery run. It felt like the start of something—something he wasn’t quite ready to name, but something he didn’t want to let go of.

And as I glanced at him with a smile that felt like sunshine, Joel realized he didn’t have to face the future alone.

It wasn’t an instant fairy tale. Joel was cautious, and I respected his pace. We spent time as a trio—movie nights with Sarah, weekend trips to the park—but also carved out moments for just the two of them.

One evening, after Sarah had fallen asleep on the couch, Joel walked me to my car. The moon cast a silver glow over the driveway as we stood there, the air heavy with unspoken words.

“Y/n,” Joel began, his voice low. “I never thought I’d… let someone in again. But you…”

I placed a hand on his arm. “You don’t have to say anything, Joel. I—”

But before I could finish, he leaned in, his lips brushing mine in a tender, hesitant kiss.

When we pulled back, I smiled. “I think Sarah’s going to be thrilled.”

Joel chuckled, his hand still lingering on my cheek. “Yeah, she’s been hintin’ at this for weeks.”

As y/n drove away, Joel stood in the driveway, a warmth spreading through him that he hadn’t felt in years. For the first time in a long time, the future didn’t feel so lonely.

And in the weeks that followed, as their relationship deepened, Joel realized he wasn’t just rebuilding his life—he was building something new, something worth holding onto.

[oldsoul007]

blended

joel miller x reader

summary: y/n and Joel, best friends for years, fall in love but keep their relationship a secret from their kids. Until…

joel miller masterlist

Joel Miller and I had been neighbors for as long as either of us could remember. Our backyards were separated by a tall wooden fence, but that was more of a formality than anything. In reality, our houses were an extension of each other, and over the years, the boundaries between our lives had blurred. We were both single parents—Joel raising his spirited daughter, Sarah, and me looking after my young son, Dean. Life hadn’t been easy for either of us.

Joel’s wife had left when Sarah was just a baby, leaving him with a little girl to raise on his own. Me, on the other hand, had found myself a single mother after an unexpected divorce. Both of us had been thrust into the daunting world of parenting without the safety net of a partner, but somehow, we made it work.

Our bond started small, over shared cups of coffee on early mornings when both kids were at school or daycare. We’d watch each other struggle with the chaos of work and parenting, the endless juggling act, and laugh about how nothing was ever as easy as it seemed in the movies. Over time, we became more than just neighbors; we became best friends.

Joel would pick up Dean from soccer practice when I had to work late, and I would help Sarah with school projects when Joel was caught in work. There was a kind of quiet understanding between us, a bond that didn’t need words. We helped each other out without asking, our friendship built on mutual respect and the recognition that, in this crazy world of single parenthood, we were in it together.

It wasn’t just the practical stuff that kept us close. It was the late-night talks, the way we’d vent about the frustrations of being a single parent and life. Joel would talk about how hard it was to balance everything and still try to be the dad Sarah needed, and I would nod along, sharing how sometimes, I just needed a moment to breathe.

But lately, things had started to feel different. There was an underlying tension between us that neither had quite acknowledged. Maybe it was the way I laughed at Joel’s jokes a little too long, or how Joel caught himself lingering in the kitchen when I was making dinner, offering to chop vegetables for me when he didn’t really need to. It was subtle at first—a lingering look, a hand brushing against the other’s arm—but neither of us could deny it.

One evening, after our kids had gone to bed, Joel found himself sitting on my porch with a beer in hand, the air cool and quiet around us. Sarah had spent the night at a friend’s house, and Noah had fallen asleep on the couch watching cartoons. It was one of those rare, peaceful moments when the house was still, and the noise of parenthood seemed far away.

I sat beside him, my legs stretched out in front of me as I looked up at the stars. “You ever think about dating again?” I asked casually, my voice low, as if I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear the answer.

Joel glanced over at me, surprised. He had thought about it, of course, but it felt like a distant idea. “I don’t know… I mean, it’s hard. Sarah’s still so young, and I don’t know how to balance that with someone else. You?”

I smiled softly, the kind of smile that made my eyes crinkle at the corners. “Same. But sometimes… I don’t know. Sometimes I think maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, you know?”

He nodded, feeling the weight of the conversation settle between us. For a moment, neither of us spoke, the silence comfortable but charged.

Then, almost without thinking, Joel leaned in, closing the space between us. He hadn’t meant for it to happen—it just did. But when our lips met, it felt like the most natural thing in the world. His hand found its way to my cheek, and I leaned into him, the kiss deepening, soft but full of meaning.

For a long moment, there was only the quiet sound of our breathing and the faint rustling of leaves in the breeze. It was like the world outside had disappeared, leaving just the two of us—two people who had been through so much and had somehow found a way to comfort each other.

Me and Joel had been seeing each other for a few months, our relationship blossoming quietly under the radar.

But me and Joel had decided early on to keep things under wraps. Our kids, Dean and Sarah, were at that precarious age where any major shift in our lives could feel monumental. Dean, my 8-year-old son, had a sharp eye and a habit of piecing together puzzles he wasn’t meant to. Sarah, Joel’s 7-year-old daughter, was a little more reserved, but she had a knack for overhearing conversations at precisely the wrong moments. We weren’t ready for questions, pushback, or the inevitable emotional fallout—not yet.

So, we snuck around.

On Wednesday evenings, when Sarah and Dean were at soccer practice, me and Joel would meet for dinner at an out-of-the-way restaurant. We’d laugh over shared stories of parenting mishaps and steal kisses in the parking lot, always mindful of the time. Weekends required even more creativity. Sometimes, Joel would claim he needed to “work late” while I pretended I was out for a “girls’ night,” and we’d catch a movie or go for a drive. Our favorite escape was a small café on the edge of town that neither of our kids would ever frequent.

The sneaking added a layer of excitement, but it also made things complicated. The guilt of hiding weighed on us both, but it also pushed us to make sure this was something real before introducing it to our kids.

“We can’t keep this up forever,” I said one evening as we sat in Joel’s car, parked on a quiet street after dinner.

“I know,” Joel replied, reaching for my hand. “But I just… I want to be sure. I want them to see how much this means to me before we bring them into it.”

I nodded, my heart warm but conflicted. We both knew the risk. If Dean or Sarah found out before we were ready, the fallout could be messy. But for now, we were content to live in our little secret bubble, savoring stolen moments and the thrill of something new.

We promised each other that when the time was right—when we were both certain this relationship had a future—we’d tell our kids together. Until then, we’d keep sneaking around, juggling the demands of our lives while holding onto this spark that made all the secrecy feel worth it.

Me and Joel stood in the kitchen, the soft hum of the refrigerator the only sound in the quiet house. Joel had just finished fixing the leaky faucet and was leaning against the counter, his warm gaze locked on me.

“You know,” he said with a small, teasing smile, “this house really keeps me busy. I might have to start charging you for all the repairs.”

I laughed softly, my cheeks tinged pink. “Oh, please. You love it here.”

“I do,” Joel murmured, his voice turning softer. Then, without thinking, he leaned in and kissed me. It was tender, unhurried—a moment just for us.

Or so we thought.

“Mom?! Dad?!”

We pulled apart abruptly to see Dean and Sarah standing in the doorway, our eyes wide. Dean looked utterly baffled, while Sarah wore an expression that practically screamed, Finally.

“What are you doing?” Dean asked, his voice rising in confusion.

I froze, a guilty smile tugging at my lips. “Uh… well…”

“They were kissing, Dean,” Sarah said, rolling her eyes like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Dean blinked, looking between us. “Wait. Why?!”

Joel cleared his throat, stepping forward. “Alright, let’s all sit down and talk, okay?”

The kids followed us into the living room, where me and Joel sat on the couch, with Dean and Sarah plopping down across from us.

I took a deep breath. “Okay, so here’s the thing. Joel and I have been spending a lot of time together, as you know. And we’ve realized that we care about each other in a different way than just being friends.”

Dean tilted his head. “Like… boyfriend and girlfriend?”

Joel nodded. “Exactly. But we didn’t want to say anything until we were sure, because you two are the most important people to us, and we wanted to make sure this wouldn’t upset you.”

Dean stared at us for a moment, then asked, “So… is Joel and Sarah gonna live here now?”

I chuckled softly. “No, not right now. Joel and Sarah will still live next door. We’re just taking things one step at a time.”

Sarah, who had been unusually quiet, finally grinned. “I knew it. You guys were so obvious.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Obvious?”

Sarah nodded. “Yeah. My dad’s over here all the time, you’re always laughing at his dumb jokes, and you look at each other like those people in the movies. I told Dean this was going to happen.”

Dean looked Sarah, frowning. “Wait, you knew? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because you wouldn’t get it,” Sarah said with a dramatic sigh.

Dean looked back at Joel and I, squinting. “So… does this mean Joel can take us to the arcade more? ‘Cause that’d be cool.”

Joel laughed, relieved. “Sure, buddy. I’d be happy to take you guys to the arcade.”

Sarah smirked. “And you owe us ice cream for keeping this a secret.”

Joel grinned. “Deal.”

I smiled at the kids, my heart swelling with relief. “So… you guys are okay with this?”

Sarah shrugged. “Yeah. I mean, it’s kind of weird, but it’s also cool. We’re basically a family anyway.”

Dean nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, it’s like we already knew, kinda.”

I reached out, pulling them both into a hug. “You two are amazing. Thank you for being so understanding.”

As the kids scampered off, Sarah turned back at the doorway. “Just no more kissing in front of us, okay? It’s gross.”

Joel chuckled. “Deal.”

When we were alone, Joel looked at me and smiled. “That went a lot better than I thought it would.”

I leaned into him, resting my head on his shoulder. “It did. They’re happy, and so am I.”

Joel kissed my temple, his voice low and warm. “Then I’d say we’re off to a pretty great start.”

[oldsoul007]

tennessee whiskey

joel miller x reader

summary: y/n just moved to town and meets a kind stranger at her new job at the bar

joel miller masterlist

I had been in Austin for all of three days, and already I was questioning my decision to move. The town was nice enough, the people polite, and the streets lined with a certain southern charm I couldn’t deny. But it wasn’t home.

I sighed, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear as I stared at the bar’s interior. It was my first night bartending at The Rusty Nail, a cozy place just off the main road. The kind of spot where locals gathered after a long day of work.

My hands moved on instinct, setting up glasses, polishing the counter, and organizing the bottles behind the bar. The door creaked open, and the steady hum of conversation started to trickle in as patrons arrived.

One of them caught my eye immediately.

He was broad-shouldered, his plaid shirt rolled up to his elbows, revealing strong, calloused arms. His hair was dark, touched with the faintest streaks of gray, and his beard was well-kept but rugged. There was a quiet confidence in the way he moved, as if he knew exactly who he was.

He slid onto a barstool, glancing at the menu on the wall.

“What’ll it be?” I asked, putting on my best customer-service smile.

He looked up at me, his dark brown eyes meeting mine, and I swore the air between us shifted.

“Whiskey. Neat,” he said in a voice that was deep, warm, and unmistakably Texan.

“Coming right up.”

As I poured, I felt his gaze on me. Not in the way that made me uneasy—like some of the men who’d already tried their luck tonight—but with curiosity.

“You’re new,” he said as I set the glass in front of him.

“Guilty,” I replied, leaning on the counter. “Moved here a few days ago. Figured I’d give Texas a shot.”

He nodded, taking a sip. “What brought you down here?”

I shrugged. “Needed a change. Somewhere quieter.”

He smirked, a faint dimple appearing in his cheek. “Austin ain’t all that quiet, but it’s got its charm.”

I laughed softly. “I’ll take your word for it.”

“Joel,” he said, extending a hand.

“Y/n.” I shook it, his grip firm but not overbearing.

Over the next couple of weeks, Joel became a regular. Every evening, like clockwork, he’d walk in, take the same seat, and order the same drink. He didn’t talk much at first, but I had a way of drawing people out.

“You got family here, Joel?” I asked one night, sliding his whiskey across the counter.

“Yeah,” he said, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Got a daughter, Sarah. She’s nine.”

My eyebrows raised. “A dad, huh? You don’t strike me as the type.”

Joel chuckled, the sound low and rich. “And what type’s that?”

“Gruff, stoic, whiskey-drinking.” I grinned.

He smirked, shaking his head. “Fair enough. But Sarah… she’s somethin’ else. Smarter than me, that’s for sure. Keeps me on my toes.”

I smiled at the warmth in his voice. “Sounds like you’re doing a good job.”

“Tryin’,” he said, his tone soft.

One Friday night, Joel showed up later than usual. The bar was busier than normal, and I was running around, serving drinks and dodging drunken advances. When I finally got a breather, I noticed Joel watching me, his usual seat occupied by someone else.

“Sorry for the wait,” I said as I approached him at the far end of the bar.

“No rush,” he replied, his voice steady.

“You okay?” I asked, pouring his usual.

Joel sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Long day at work. But Sarah had a good one. She made first chair in her school’s band.”

I grinned. “That’s amazing. What instrument does she play?”

“Guitar,” he said, a hint of pride in his tone. “Takes after me, I guess.”

“Bet she’s better than you already.”

Joel chuckled. “You’re probably right.”

The bar was buzzing softly with its usual evening crowd, a mix of laughter, murmured conversation, and the clink of glasses filling the air. Joel sat at his usual spot at the far end of the counter, his untouched glass of water in front of him. Y/n, as always, moved behind the bar with effortless confidence, her smile lighting up the dim room every time she exchanged words with a customer.

Joel had become a regular since she started a few weeks ago. Though he wasn’t much of a drinker or a bar guy, something about her had drawn him in from the start. Now, stopping by for an hour or two had become part of his routine—not that he’d admit she was the main reason for it.

I glanced over as I finished up with another customer, my eyes catching his. I smirked. “You know, Joel, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you actually drink that whiskey.”

He shrugged, leaning casually against the counter. “What can I say? Your company’s more refreshing than the drink.”

I laughed, shaking my head as I grabbed a rag to wipe down the counter near him. “Nice save. But seriously, do you ever order anything besides whiskey?”

Joel grinned. “I don’t want to ruin my streak. Besides, it gives me something to pretend to sip while I sit here and distract you.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Distract me? Oh, is that what you’re doing?”

“Obviously.” He gestured to the bar. “Why else would you come over here when there are paying customers waiting for refills?”

I rolled my eyes, but the smile stayed on my face. “Maybe because I know you’d sulk if I ignored you too long.”

“Sulk?” He placed a hand over his chest in mock offense. “I don’t sulk.”

“You sulk,” I said with a knowing smirk.

Joel chuckled, tilting his head slightly. “Alright, maybe I do. But only because you spoil me.”

I laughed again, leaning on the counter now, closer to him. “So let me get this straight—you come here regularly, you never actually drink your whiskey, and you sit here just to soak up my attention?”

“Pretty much,” Joel admitted, his smile turning softer. “Why? Is it working?”

I tilted my head, pretending to think about it. “Well, since you’re my favorite whiskey-drinker, I guess I can’t complain too much.”

Joel couldn’t help but grin. “Favorite, huh? I’ll take it.”

“You should,” I teased. “It’s not every day someone gets that title around here.”

We shared a moment of easy silence, the noise of the bar fading slightly as we held each other’s gaze. I eventually straightened up, tossing the rag over my shoulder.

“Alright, Mr. Regular,” I said with a smirk. “Don’t let that whiskey go to waste. I’d hate for you to ruin your pristine record of… not drinking it.”

Joel laughed, picking up the glass and raising it toward her. “Here’s to consistency.”

“Cheers,” I replied, winking before moving to help another customer.

Joel watched me go, a quiet smile lingering on his lips. Sure, the whiskey might still be untouched, but he figured he was getting exactly what he came for.

As the weeks passed, our conversations grew longer, our smiles warmer. I found myself looking forward to his visits, my heart fluttering in a way I hadn’t felt in years.

One night, as I was wiping down the counter after closing, Joel lingered.

“You ever get tired of this?” he asked, gesturing to the empty bar.

I glanced around, thinking. “Sometimes. But I like it. People come here, they let their guard down. You learn a lot about someone over a drink.”

“Yeah?” he said, leaning on the counter. “What’d you learn about me?”

I smirked. “That you’re a good dad. That you care more than you let on. And that you’re probably a terrible dancer.”

Joel laughed, the sound filling the empty bar. “Two outta three ain’t bad.”

My smile softened. “I think you’re one of the good ones, Joel.”

His expression grew serious, his eyes searching hers. “Don’t know about that,” he murmured.

I leaned closer, my voice barely above a whisper. “I do.”

For a moment, the world outside faded. It was just the two of us, the air between us thick with something unspoken.

“Y/n…” he began, his voice hesitant.

I reached out, my fingers brushing his. “I’m not going anywhere, Joel.”

He exhaled slowly, his hand closing around hers. For the first time in a long time, he let his walls down.

And for the first time in a long time, I felt like I’d finally found a place to stay.

It was late, the bar finally quiet after the last straggling patrons had stumbled out into the warm Texas night. I locked the front door and flipped the “OPEN” sign to “CLOSED,” leaning against the door for a moment to catch my breath.

“Long night,” I murmured to myself, running a hand through my hair.

I turned back toward the bar and found Joel standing there, his glass full, his hands resting on the counter. He hadn’t left yet, which wasn’t unusual—but tonight, there was something in the way he lingered.

“You’re still here,” I said, walking back toward him, my boots scuffing against the wooden floor.

He looked up at me, his dark eyes intense, his expression unreadable. “Figured I’d wait, see if you needed a hand closing up.”

I raised an eyebrow, a soft smile tugging at my lips. “You don’t strike me as the type to stick around for the cleanup.”

He stood, his movements slow and deliberate, and leaned against the counter. “Maybe tonight’s different.”

My heart skipped a beat as he held my gaze, the air between us suddenly heavier. For weeks, we’d danced around whatever this was—stolen glances, lingering touches as I handed him his drink, conversations that felt like we meant more than the words themselves.

“Come on,” I said, my voice quieter now. “You can help me restock in the back.”

I turned and walked toward the storage room, feeling his presence close behind me. The room was cramped and dimly lit, shelves lined with bottles and crates. I grabbed a case of whiskey, but before I could lift it, Joel stepped in, his hand brushing mine as he reached for it.

“Let me,” he said, his voice low and steady.

I didn’t move, my breath catching as his hand lingered on mine. I looked up at him, my heart pounding in my chest.

“Joel…” I started, but whatever I was going to say faded as he stepped closer, his body only inches from mine.

For a moment, neither of us moved. The room felt impossibly small, the silence broken only by the sound of our breathing. His eyes searched mine, as if looking for permission, for confirmation that I felt the same pull he did.

Then, like a dam breaking, he leaned in, his lips capturing mine in a kiss that was anything but tentative. It was rough, urgent, full of all the things they’d been holding back. My hands found his chest, my fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as I kissed him back just as fiercely.

He cupped my face, his thumb brushing against my jaw as he deepened the kiss. I pressed closer, feeling the solid warmth of him, the way his breath hitched as my hands slid up to his shoulders.

When we finally pulled apart, both of us were breathless, our foreheads resting against each other’s.

“Y/n,” he murmured, her name like a prayer on his lips.

I smiled softly, my fingers still clutching his shirt. “Took you long enough, Miller.”

He chuckled, his voice low and rough. “Guess I’m not so quick on the uptake.”

My smile widened, my hand sliding up to rest against his cheek. “You’re here now. That’s all that matters.”

For the first time in years, Joel allowed himself to feel something more than just the weight of the world. And for the first time in a long time, I felt like I’d found something worth holding onto.

[oldsoul007]

take it easy

joel miller x reader

summary: joel and y/n’s quiet morning exchanging sneaky touches and lingering glances.

a/n: kisses, sneaking touches, veryyy domestic, lovebirds

joel miller masterlist

It was a Saturday morning, and the house was bustling with that kind of comfortable chaos that comes with having family around. The smell of bacon and eggs filled the kitchen, and the TV in the living room was playing some sports game that Tommy and Joel were half-watching while Sarah looked at a book at the kitchen table.

I moved around the kitchen, gathering ingredients for breakfast. I liked mornings like this—simple, cozy, with the people I loved nearby. Joel was sitting at the table, his hands wrapped around a mug of coffee, still in his pajamas, looking relaxed but with that hint of a smile playing on his lips. He caught my eye across the room.

My gaze met his, and that little spark in my chest ignited. It was a small, almost unnoticeable gesture, but the warmth it sent through me was undeniable. It was our thing, these quiet moments, even in the midst of family chaos.

Joel’s hand casually slid across the table, his fingers brushing mine for just a second. I didn’t say anything, just squeezed his hand, feeling the familiar weight of his touch.

“Alright, enough of the sweet talk, you two,” Tommy called from the living room, a grin spreading across his face as he leaned into the doorway. “What’s for breakfast?”

I laughed softly and turned to Tommy. “You know, if you didn’t eat us out of house and home last time you stayed, maybe we’d have more leftovers for the next day.”

“Oh, come on,” Tommy said with a wink. “It’s just a healthy appetite. I’m a growing guy.”

Sarah looked over at them from the kitchen table, raising an eyebrow as she bit into her toast. “Growing? You’re pushing thirty, Tommy. If you’re still growing, you’re doing it the wrong way.”

Joel chuckled, but before he could say anything, Sarah’s teasing voice rang out again. “And, Dad, please don’t get any ideas about stealing any kisses in front of us. We all know how you two are.”

My cheeks warmed, but I didn’t let the teasing faze me. I shot Joel a look, and in response, he just gave me a small, mischievous smile. It wasn’t like we were doing anything to hide our affection, but the teasing was a little more pronounced when Sarah was around.

“I wasn’t planning on anything like that,” Joel said, his voice full of mock innocence, though his fingers still lingered on my wrist as I moved around the kitchen.

I shook my head but couldn’t suppress the smile tugging at my lips. “Yeah, sure, you weren’t.”

With the distractions of family around us, our stolen moments of affection didn’t need to be grand. It was the small things. When I reached for the milk in the fridge, Joel passed by, his fingers brushing against my back as he grabbed a spoon from the drawer. The touch was fleeting, but the warmth lingered.

Later, when the food was ready, we all gathered around the table, Sarah and Tommy talking about everything and nothing as Joel and I exchanged small glances when they thought no one was looking. When Sarah got up to refill her drink, Joel didn’t hesitate to slide closer to me, his arm brushing against mine as he passed her the syrup. It was casual but intimate, the kind of affection that filled the room without needing to be said.

After breakfast, we all moved into the living room, where Tommy was setting up a board game. Sarah, ever the critic, was already making sarcastic comments about how Joel always cheated. Joel rolled his eyes but let Sarah have her fun.

I joined them on the couch, and as Tommy explained the rules of the game (again), Joel sat next to me, his hand brushing lightly over my knee. I glanced up at him, raising an eyebrow as though to say, Really? Right now?

Joel just gave me a quick, soft smile and whispered, “I can’t help it. You look too good, always.”

I bit back a laugh, not wanting to make a scene with everyone around, but my heart warmed anyway. I rested my hand on his, just for a second, before the game started in full swing, the four of us laughing and teasing each other.

As the afternoon wore on, they all sat together in the living room, Joel and I on the couch, Tommy sprawled out on the chair, and Sarah lounging on the floor with a blanket. Sarah, being the observant one, caught every glance, every little touch, but she didn’t make a big deal of it. Instead, she just rolled her eyes dramatically and muttered, “You two are disgusting,” before returning to her book.

Joel couldn’t resist; he nudged me with his shoulder, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of my head. It was soft, quick, but it said everything. I turned to face him, and for just a moment, our eyes locked. We didn’t need to say a word. The comfort, the quiet love, was enough.

As the sun began to set, casting a warm glow through the living room windows, Joel and I found ourselves on the couch again, after everyone else had slowly dispersed. Tommy had gone to grab some beers, and Sarah had retreated to her room for some alone time.

It was just us now—quiet and peaceful.

Joel reached over to gently tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. His fingers brushed against my cheek, and for a second, he just looked at me, as though I was the only thing in the world.

“You know,” he said quietly, his voice filled with that familiar warmth. “I don’t need much, just this. You and me. It’s perfect.”

I smiled, leaning in to kiss him. It was gentle and sweet, a kiss that didn’t need to be rushed. The world outside our little bubble could wait. For a moment, there was no one else but us, our hands tangled together, hearts quietly beating in sync.

“Yeah,” I whispered against his lips. “It’s perfect.”

And in the noise of everyday life—of Sarah’s teasing, Tommy’s laughter, and the ordinary moments of a busy household—those small, sweet touches, those quiet kisses, were all the love we needed.

[oldsoul007]

unexpected

joel miller x pregnant!reader

summary: y/n finds out some unexpected news and is nervous to tell joel

joel miller masterlist

I paced the small living room, my hands fidgeting with the hem of my shirt. I could hear Sarah in the other room, humming to herself as she worked on some school project. The sound was sweet, grounding, but it didn’t stop the anxious flutter in my chest.

I glanced at Joel, who sat on the couch, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. He’d been unusually quiet since I asked him to sit down. He hadn’t spoken a word since I said, “I need to tell you something.”

I bit my lip and took a deep breath.

“Okay,” I began, my voice trembling slightly, “so… this isn’t something we planned. At all. I know we’ve been trying to keep things stable for Sarah. She’s still so young, and I know things have been hard, and… well, I just—”

“Y/n.”

I froze, his voice cutting through my rambling. Joel looked up at me, his dark eyes steady and waiting.

“Just say it,” he said, his tone soft but firm.

My heart thudded painfully in my chest. I took another breath and blurted it out before I could lose my nerve.

“I’m pregnant.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and terrifying. I searched Joel’s face for a reaction, but he didn’t move, didn’t speak. He just stared at me, his expression unreadable.

My stomach twisted. This wasn’t the reaction I’d hoped for.

“I know it’s not what we talked about,” I said quickly, my voice rising in panic. “I mean, we never even talked about having more kids, and I don’t know how Sarah’s going to feel, and—”

Joel stood up, cutting me off mid-sentence. He took a step toward me, and for a moment, I thought he was angry.

“Joel, I—”

Before I could finish, he closed the distance between us, his hands cupping my face as he kissed me. It wasn’t a soft kiss, but a fierce, overwhelming one that stole my breath.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against mine, and I could feel the smile tugging at his lips.

“You’re pregnant,” he murmured, almost as if testing the words.

I blinked, my eyes wide. “You’re… not mad?”

“Mad?” Joel let out a soft laugh, his thumb brushing my cheek. “Y/n, I’m… I’m so happy. Damn happy.”

My lips parted in surprise. “Really?”

Joel nodded, his voice thick with emotion. “I didn’t know I could get this lucky twice. First Sarah, and now this.”

Tears stung my eyes as relief washed over me. I let out a shaky laugh, wrapping my arms around his neck.

“God, I thought you were going to freak out,” I admitted, my voice muffled against his shoulder.

Joel chuckled, holding me close. “Nah, I’m not freakin’ out. Just… thinkin’ about how we’re gonna tell Sarah.”

I pulled back slightly to look at him. “You think she’ll be okay with it?”

Joel smiled, brushing a strand of hair from my face. “Sarah’s got the biggest heart I’ve ever seen. She’s gonna be a great big sister.”

I smiled back, a weight lifting off my shoulders. In that moment, with Joel’s arms around me and his quiet reassurance, I let myself believe everything was going to be okay.

[oldsoul007]

loving you, loving me

joel miller x reader

summary: y/n and joel save time for the little moments in their busy schedules

a/n: veryyy domestic, kissing

joel miller masterlist

The sun had barely risen when I stirred awake. The soft light filtered through the bedroom window, casting gentle shadows across the room. I shifted, my body still heavy with sleep, but the warm weight of Joel beside me made it hard to stay asleep. He was still tangled in the covers, a few strands of his messy brown hair sticking to his forehead.

I smiled softly, brushing them away, the quiet intimacy of the moment making my heart flutter. Before I could think, my hand found its way to his arm, fingers tracing the familiar muscle beneath his worn-out shirt. Joel stirred just a little, his breath deepening as if he could sense my touch even in his sleep.

“Morning, handsome,” I whispered, leaning down to kiss the side of his cheek.

“Mmm,” Joel muttered, eyes still closed. “Mornin’.”

His voice was gravelly from sleep, but there was something comforting about it. Something that made the rush of our busy lives seem insignificant in this small pocket of quiet. He cracked an eye open, meeting my gaze with a smile that softened his rough exterior.

“I have to get up soon,” I murmured, already dreading the coming hours. “But I don’t want to leave you yet.”

“I know, I don’t want you to either.” Joel reached for me, pulling me into a brief but tender embrace. “But you have work, and I gotta get to the construction site.”

We both groaned at the reality of our hectic schedules, the same routine we’d shared for years. I leaned in, pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips before slipping out of bed. He watched me go, a sense of longing in his chest as he sat up, but he didn’t say anything—just let his gaze linger on me for a few moments before he started his own morning routine.

Later, at the office, I sat hunched over a pile of paperwork, the soft hum of the fluorescent lights above the only sound in the quiet office. I was buried deep in numbers when I felt the briefest sensation—someone’s fingers grazing against mine. Startled, I looked up and found Joel standing in the doorway, grinning like a schoolboy.

“Don’t you have a meeting?” I whispered, though my heart skipped a beat.

“I do,” he said, voice low. “But I needed to steal a kiss from my wife.” He leaned down just enough to plant a soft kiss on my lips, just a touch—so quick, but full of warmth.

I smiled, the weight of the day momentarily lifted. “I needed that.”

“I’ll be back tonight, okay?” He squeezed my hand before turning to go, leaving my heart full and my work still waiting.

The hours between our brief exchanges seemed endless. By the time I got home that evening, the house was quiet, the air a little cooler, and the sun was setting in a soft cascade of oranges and pinks. I kicked off my shoes and headed toward the kitchen, where Joel was busy making dinner, his shirt rolled up at the sleeves.

“Smells good in here,” I said, my voice carrying a bit of weariness from the long day.

Joel turned, a smile immediately spreading across his face as he crossed the room. “I thought we could eat together tonight, no interruptions. Just us.”

I felt a rush of affection and walked straight into his arms. I didn’t say anything—just pressed my face into his chest, feeling the comforting rhythm of his heartbeat. He held me like that for a long moment, his hands moving gently up and down my back.

“I missed you today,” I murmured.

“I missed you too.” He kissed the top of my head, a soft, lingering gesture. “But hey, I think we both know there’s no such thing as too much love, right?”

I chuckled softly. “You say that now, but you’ve got a lot of work ahead of you.”

“We’ll manage,” Joel said, his voice warm with certainty. “I’ll find ways to sneak kisses in. I’ll make sure you never forget I’m here.”

And so, it went. The days were busy, the hours long, but whenever we could, we stole moments together. A touch of my hand while making coffee, a kiss on the cheek when no one was looking, an embrace that lasted just a little longer than it should have. Those tiny moments made up for the time we were apart.

At night, after the world had quieted, and the chaos of our separate lives had finally simmered down, we sat side by side, Joel’s hand nestled in mine, his fingers drawing circles against my palm. The silence between us was never uncomfortable—it was the kind of silence that spoke volumes, the kind that only two people who had been through years of life together could understand.

“I love you, y/n,” Joel whispered as we both settled in for the night, the room dark except for the faint light coming through the window.

“i love you too,” I replied, turning my face to him, my lips seeking his for a final, soft kiss of the day.

And as we lay there, with nothing but the sound of each other’s breath and the occasional murmur of affection, we knew our love—quiet, steady, and full of those small, meaningful moments—was more than enough to keep us going through the busiest of days.

[oldsoul007]

late nights

javier peña x reader

summary: you help a DEA officer get intel but the lines between business and pleasure begin to blur as the two of you grow closer, tangled in a web of danger, secrets, and undeniable attraction.

Javier Peña, a seasoned former DEA agent, wasn’t the type to get entangled in messy situations. But then there was y/n—an escort with a sharp wit and a kind of vulnerability that caught him off guard. At first, our connection was purely transactional. I was smart, resourceful, and willing to share things that, at the right moment, could tip the scales in his ongoing investigation.

I had seen it all—my life had been about survival and control. But somewhere beneath the façade, I had a rawness that Javier noticed from the start. He had seen the world’s grit, and I wasn’t much different. There was a certain strength in how I carried myself, but also something lost, something almost invisible. I wasn’t like the others, the ones who simply went through the motions for the money. I was too sharp for that.

Javier started visiting me more than he should have, often under the guise of asking for information. But the more we talked, the more he found himself listening to me—not just for what I said, but for who I was behind the walls I built around myself. We shared stories, some heavy with pain, some light with fleeting laughter. There were moments when the atmosphere was so thick with unspoken things that it almost suffocated him.

One night, after we’d crossed the line between the usual business and something far more complicated, Javier found himself staring at me, his heart pounding in a way that was both unsettling and intoxicating. We were lying together, a haze of tangled sheets around us.

“y/n,” he said softly, his fingers grazing my cheek, tracing my skin. “You’re better than this. You deserve more than this life. You should find something real.”

I looked at him, my expression unreadable. There was a flicker of something—regret, maybe, or fear—but I quickly masked it. I had to. I wasn’t a person who allowed myself to be vulnerable, not for long. Still, Javier could see through it. He could feel the walls I put up, but now he wanted to tear them down, even if it meant making himself vulnerable in the process.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, my voice distant, though it trembled slightly. “I’m fine. I don’t need saving, Javier.”

But he could see it in my eyes, the way I wasn’t quite convinced by my own words. He leaned closer, brushing his lips gently against my forehead. “I’m not trying to save you,” he murmured. “I just think you deserve something real. Something that doesn’t come with a price tag.”

There was a long silence. Then, quietly, I let out a soft, bitter laugh, the sound almost more painful than I intended. “That’s sweet of you,” I said, but my voice cracked just a little. “But we both know that real doesn’t work for people like me.”

Javier didn’t want to let go of her, not just physically but emotionally. He wasn’t sure what was happening—he didn’t want to admit it, but his feelings for her were starting to turn into something deeper, something more than just pity or sympathy. It was real, and he wasn’t sure he could walk away from it. But he was afraid she’d never believe that.

“You’re wrong,” he said softly, the weight of his words heavy in the air. “You deserve better. You’re worth more than this.”

I turned my head away, my breath catching. I didn’t know how to respond. Part of me wanted to believe him, to take him seriously, but another part of me feared what might happen if I did. I wasn’t sure if I could allow myself to be cared for like that—not when my whole life had been about keeping people at arm’s length.

But Javier wasn’t going anywhere. And even though I tried to push him away, there was something in the way he looked at me, the way he said my name that made me wonder if, just maybe, I was worth fighting for after all.

[oldsoul007]

undercover

javier peña x reader

summary: y/n and javier go undercover

javier peña masterlist

It was late when Javier Peña and I slipped into the small, dimly lit hotel in Bogotá, our cover story already in place. We had become strangers—just another pair of tourists looking for a quiet retreat from the noise of the city. Our clothing was ordinary, unremarkable, but everything else had to be convincing. In the world we were about to enter, any slip-up could be fatal.

Javier glanced at me as we approached the check-in counter, his stomach tight with unease. I looked as calm as ever, my eyes scanning the room, every movement deliberate and controlled. I was good at this—too good. Javier hated it, but he couldn’t deny how perfectly I blended into the role of a foreigner on a business trip.

“Two nights,” he said to the hotel clerk in Spanish, his voice low and casual. “Under the name ‘Rodríguez.’” He flashed a small, practiced smile.

I stood behind him, leaning in slightly to whisper, “You know, you might want to work on your small talk skills, Peña.” My voice was light, teasing, but there was an edge of tension beneath it, an awareness of just how dangerous this mission was.

He shot me a glance as the clerk handed over the key, catching the faintest flicker of anxiety in my expression before I masked it again. She’s hiding it better than I am, he thought.

“We’re just here for business,” Javier continued smoothly, taking the room key. “I’m sure you understand.”

I nodded, adding my own warmth to the act. The clerk barely looked up as he handed us the key and gave us the directions to the elevator.

We made our way upstairs, moving with calculated precision, as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening. The elevator doors slid shut, and the moment the metal closed between us and the world below, Javier turned to me, his voice barely a whisper.

“We can’t afford any mistakes, y/n. If they find out we’re not who we say we are…” He trailed off, but the meaning hung heavily between us.

“I know,” I replied, my voice firm but low. “That’s why you’re here. To watch my back.”

Javier’s chest tightened at the words. She’s counting on me.

Once inside the hotel room, we wasted no time in setting up. The small space felt suffocating despite its plainness. A simple bed, a worn-out chair, a cracked mirror hanging above a sink. It was the kind of place where people came to disappear—exactly what we needed for our cover.

I sat at the edge of the bed, unpacking my bag with methodical movements. Javier stood by the window, keeping watch, but his eyes kept drifting to me. She was so composed, so in control. The confidence she exuded only made him feel more vulnerable. I can’t protect her from everything. The realization gnawed at him.

“This is where it gets tricky,” I said, breaking the silence. My back was to him as I rifled through my things, pulling out a few tools—tiny cameras, a recorder, things that could help us collect information.

Javier turned to face me. “You’re not seriously going through with this, are you? We could do this another way, y/n. could work with Steve and—”

“Javier,” I interrupted, my voice calm but unyielding, “this is the only way. We get in, we get close to them, and we take them down. You know that.” I turned to him then, my gaze intense. “You think I want to do this? You think I want to walk into that lion’s den alone? I’m scared, okay? But we have no choice. This is the mission.”

He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair, frustration mounting. “I didn’t sign up for this to watch you get yourself killed. I don’t care what they say—I’m not letting you go in without me.”

My eyes softened, but there was a fire there too—an unspoken challenge. “You think I’m going to let you sit back and do nothing while I do all the work?” I smiled, but there was a sadness behind it. “No, Peña. We’re doing this together.”

My words hit harder than he expected. He knew I was right. I wasn’t just a colleague; I was someone he cared for deeply. And no matter how dangerous this mission was, how much he wanted to pull me out of it, he knew I was too far gone, too committed to the cause.

“We stick to the plan,” he said, his voice steady but his heart racing. “No deviations. And if it gets too hot, we bail, understood?”

I gave a curt nod. “Understood.”

Hours later, we found ourselves slipping through the shadows of the hotel lobby, avoiding the few scattered guests and staff. We were blending in, just another couple heading out for a drink at a nearby bar—at least, that’s what we looked like. The reality was much more dangerous.

As we stepped outside, the cool air hit us, and the dark streets of Bogotá stretched ahead. We kept our pace steady, a practiced, natural rhythm that made us appear just like anyone else.

The silence between us was thick now, the weight of our shared understanding pressing down on us. As we walked, Javier stole a glance at me. The streetlights flickered across my face, highlighting the sharpness of my features and the determined set of my jaw.

“You know, we should have gone for the beach,” he said, his voice dry, trying to lighten the mood. “Less… murder and more margaritas.”

My lips twitched at the corner, but my gaze remained forward. “You’re such a romantic. Maybe next time.”

Javier snorted softly. “Right, because you’re the expert on romance.”

I didn’t reply, but the briefest of smiles crossed my face. It was enough. For a split second, everything felt normal, the weight of the world lifting. But the moment passed, and they were back in our roles—partners on a dangerous mission, with nothing but the night ahead of us.

My voice was barely a whisper as I signaled for him to follow. “We get the intel, get out. No heroics.”

“I never do heroics,” he whispered back, a wry smile tugging at his lips, but the tension in his chest wouldn’t subside.

We were in this together. For better or worse.

The dim lighting of the bar cast long shadows over the wooden floors, the clinking of glasses and low hum of conversation blending into the background. Me and Javier settled in a quiet corner, our eyes trained on the man across the room. The air was thick with tension; their target—an up-and-coming drug dealer with connections to the Cali Cartel—was just a few feet away, oblivious to the surveillance being conducted on him.

Javier sipped his beer, his gaze never wavering from the man as he spoke in a hushed tone. “Keep it cool. He’s been making moves with the Cali, but we don’t have enough to move on him yet. Not until we see who he’s meeting.”

I nodded, my fingers tapping lightly on the edge of her glass. I was used to this, the waiting game, the constant assessment of every word and gesture. But the closer the man got to our corner, the more I could feel the rising pressure. My heart rate quickened, and I adjusted in my seat, making sure not to give anything away.

For a moment, I thought it was just my nerves. But then, the man’s eyes flicked toward us. It was subtle, but enough to make me freeze. He was staring right at us now, his eyes narrowing as if he recognized something—or someone.

Javier didn’t flinch, but he did stiffen, his posture subtly shifting to block me from view. He kept his gaze trained on the man, but it was clear something was off.

“Stay calm,” he muttered, barely audible.

My pulse quickened, and I could’ve feel the tension rising. The man was making his way toward us, his steps deliberate. My mind raced, weighing the options. We had to make a move, and fast, before we were caught.

Then, the man stopped. He was only a few feet away, and it was too close. His eyes flickered toward them again, suspicion flickering in his gaze. He wasn’t convinced yet, but I could see the gears turning in his head. This was it.

Before I could react, Javier moved in a blur. He pushed me against the wall, his body pressing against mine, blocking her from view. I had no time to process what was happening before his lips found mine, a forceful kiss that stunned me into silence.

The kiss wasn’t romantic—far from it. It was a calculated move, a way to shut me up before we were exposed. The force of it was enough to stop me from saying anything, to make sure the man wouldn’t overhear a word or catch on to the game we were playing.

My breath caught in my throat, my mind racing as I tried to comprehend what just happened. Javier held the kiss for only a moment longer than necessary, his hand firmly at my side, as if anchoring her to the wall. When he finally pulled away, he didn’t look at me. His eyes were back on the man, who seemed to be lost in thought, not quite sure what to make of the scene in front of him.

“Stay cool,” Javier whispered, his breath still hot against my ear.

My heart was still pounding, my body pressed against the wall, but I nodded. The man took one last glance at us, his eyes lingering a moment too long before he turned and walked away.

I exhaled sharply, my voice barely a whisper. “You’re lucky that worked.”

Javier’s lips curled into a faint, almost smug smile. “I’m always lucky.”

[oldsoul007]

back to you

joel miller x reader

summary: you and joel lose each other 20 years ago until now

joel miller masterlist

It had been a time of desperate chaos—the world falling apart piece by piece as the Cordyceps fungus ravaged the human population, turning family, friends, neighbors, and strangers alike into mindless monsters. The infection had spread fast, too fast, and when the first signs of the outbreak hit, Joel and I had no idea how bad it would get. We had no way of knowing how quickly the world would change, how our lives would shatter.

We had been living in Austin, Texas, just before everything unraveled. Joel and I had found each other after both had weathered our own storms. Joel, already hardened by the loss of his daughter, had been reluctant to open up again, to let anyone in. But me, with my quiet strength and fierce protectiveness, had somehow wormed my way past his walls. We had been inseparable—cooking dinner together, taking long walks in the park when the world still felt like it could survive, making plans for a future that now felt like a dream.

We were out at a grocery store one night getting supplies, It was late, the store empty, when the panic started. At first, it had just been rumors, whispers about some kind of outbreak, about people getting sick, acting strangely. No one really knew what was happening. But the fear was palpable, and soon the streets were filled with people shouting, running, and driving in every direction.

Joel and I had been in the store, frozen, trying to piece together the chaos around us, when the first outbreak in the city was confirmed. Someone came running into the store, screaming. “They’re coming! They’re here! They’re killing people in the streets!” The words were barely out of the person’s mouth before the man was shot—killed by an officer who had clearly snapped under the pressure. The gunshot echoed through the aisles, and the reality of what was happening struck both of us like a blow.

Joel grabbing my hand, pulling me toward the exit. He was already thinking ahead—where to go, how to survive. His instincts had kicked in, and all that mattered was getting us both to safety.

But as we reached the parking lot, the world outside was nothing like we had ever seen before. People were running everywhere, cars were abandoned in the middle of the street, and screams filled the air. There was no order, no government, no protection anymore. The world had just… collapsed.

Joel and I jumped into the truck, making a run for it, weaving through traffic, heading toward what we hoped would be safety—toward the country roads, away from the violence, away from the chaos. The radio was filled with static and terrifying reports about people being “turned” into monsters, the cities being overrun, and the government preparing to implement martial law.

But the further we got, the more the roads became impassable. Traffic ground to a halt. People were panicking, leaving their cars behind to run on foot. The military had begun to set up barricades and block roads, trying to contain the spread of the infection, but it was clear they weren’t winning. In a matter of hours, it was every man for himself.

As we approached a bridge on the outskirts of town, the military set up a roadblock, and the situation escalated. The soldiers were desperate, their faces wild with fear. Joel could see them shouting at people to stop, to turn back, but chaos had already descended. Some people obeyed, others didn’t. The soldiers were growing more aggressive by the minute.

Then, the first gunshot rang out, echoing through the air, followed by the staccato of multiple shots. People screamed and scattered. It was a massacre. I clutched Joel’s arm, pulling him toward the back of the truck as we tried to take cover.

But in the madness, the truck was hit. A soldier fired at our vehicle—one shot, then another—and we were caught in the crossfire. Joel shoved me down into the truck bed as bullets ricocheted around them, his mind racing. He could hear me scream, but everything was a blur of motion and panic.

The next thing Joel knew, the truck was overturned. He was thrown to the ground, and the world spun in a dizzying whirl. His head slammed against the asphalt, and when he opened his eyes, everything had changed. The truck was in flames, the sound of gunfire was distant now, and the road was littered with bodies. But y/n was gone.

Panic flooded him as he tried to sit up, his body aching, his mind foggy from the blow. “Y/n!” he shouted, his voice raw, desperate. His hands were trembling as he pushed himself up, looking around. But the smoke from the truck and the blur of his vision made it hard to focus. “Y/n!” he called again, stumbling toward where he last saw her.

But there was no answer. No sign of her.

His heart hammered in his chest as he fought to stay calm, trying to think. She couldn’t be far. She couldn’t. But every direction he turned led to more chaos, more destruction. The world was coming down around him, and he couldn’t find her.

He ran, calling her name until his throat felt raw, but all he found were empty streets and the distant sounds of chaos. People running. Soldiers shouting. The infected tearing through the streets. And through it all, he couldn’t find y/n.

Eventually, he was forced to retreat. He couldn’t stay on the streets; it wasn’t safe. He had to keep moving, had to survive. But every time he looked over his shoulder, he expected to see her, standing there, coming toward him.

But she never did.

For weeks, Joel searched, desperately trying to find any trace of her. He moved from city to city, scavenging for supplies, trying to avoid the growing number of infected. He asked anyone he met, hoping against hope that someone had seen her, that someone knew where she was. But no one did.

As the months passed, and the world became a nightmare of survival and bloodshed, Joel’s hope began to wither. Y/b was gone. And the life he’d once known—those simple, precious days of being with her—had been buried by the weight of everything that had happened.

The days turned into weeks, then months, and the years stretched on. Joel tried to survive. He tried to forget. But he couldn’t.

Y/n was a ghost in his mind, a presence that never fully left him. He thought about her in the quiet moments, when the weight of the world wasn’t pressing on him, and he wondered if she was still out there—alive, surviving, thinking of him as he thought of her.

But every time he let himself think of her, the fear would grip him. What if she wasn’t alive? What if she hadn’t made it?

He never stopped looking. But after so much time, after so many broken pieces of the world, he couldn’t help but wonder if she’d been lost forever.

It was a wound that never fully healed.

Until now. Until Jackson. Until he saw her again.

The sun was setting, casting long shadows across the town square of Jackson, and everything felt… surreal. The world seemed quieter here—safer—but that didn’t change the gnawing ache in my chest. I couldn’t shake the feeling that, despite everything that had happened, despite all the time that had passed, something was about to happen. Something big.

It had been months since Tommy had returned. When he’d arrived back in Jackson, he’d been a man worn down by years of survival, much like the rest of us, but there was something different about him. Something in his eyes. Something in the way he carried himself, like there was a weight on his shoulders that wasn’t just about the chaos of the world. Something about the way people spoke when they saw him—the way they avoided certain questions, the way they looked at me with a mixture of pity and hope.

Then came the whispers. Joel was alive. Joel Miller, her Joel, was alive.

I didn’t believe it at first. I couldn’t. Not after all this time, after everything we’d been through, after the last time I’d seen him. It had been 20 years—twenty years since I last saw his face, since I last felt the warmth of his hands in mine, since the world had fallen apart.

I’d lost him then. Lost him in the chaos. In the violence. In the desperation of that world where nothing, not even love, could survive for long.

But now, standing in the square with Tommy in front of me, I felt the pull of that memory—of the person I had been before all of this. The woman who had loved Joel with everything she had. The woman who had believed they’d somehow be okay, despite everything. The woman who had lost him anyway.

Tommy’s face was tight, his jaw set in that way that always made me nervous. Something was off with him, something hidden. His eyes flicked nervously to the side, like he was trying to gauge something, or someone. I didn’t know if it was me he was avoiding or the truth that had yet to come out. But then I saw him.

Joel.

My stomach flipped in a way that was both familiar and completely foreign. He was standing there, just a few feet away, as though he’d been watching us the whole time. His face was gaunt, like he hadn’t eaten in days, but there was something unmistakable about the way he stood. The way he held himself. It was him. My Joel. After all this time. After all the years of wondering, of waiting, of fighting to stay alive in a world that felt like it had no room for love, it was him.

I froze. The air seemed to leave my lungs all at once. I didn’t know what to do with my hands, my feet, my thoughts. I could barely breathe, could barely move.

Then I did.

I started walking toward him—slowly at first, unsure if I was dreaming, unsure if I could trust what I was seeing. He didn’t move at first, just watched me with that same look I remembered—like he couldn’t quite believe it, either.

“Joel…” My voice was barely a whisper, like I wasn’t sure I even had the strength to speak his name after all this time.

And then, as if the world around us had ceased to exist, I was in his arms. His rough, calloused hands were on my back, pulling me in, holding me against him. I buried my face against his chest, inhaling the scent of him—the faint trace of earth and leather and everything I’d forgotten I needed.

He smelled like home.

His voice rumbled in my ear, hoarse with emotion. “You’re here. You’re really here.”

I nodded into his neck, unable to speak, not sure if I was even capable of forming words. I hadn’t let myself think about him for so long, hadn’t allowed myself to believe that I might see him again. That maybe, just maybe, I could find him.

But here he was. Alive. Real. And I couldn’t remember a time when I’d needed him more.

I felt his hands trembling as they ran over my back, as if he couldn’t believe I was real either. I stepped back just enough to look up at him. His face was rough, older, but still the man I’d known. The man I’d loved.

Tommy, watching from a distance, smiled softly to himself, his eyes flicking to Ellie, who had her arms crossed, watching with a mixture of confusion and curiosity. It was a strange thing, witnessing the reunion, but it was also a rare, beautiful thing. He could see the weight of the years lifting from Joel’s shoulders, even if only for a moment.

“Joel, I thought… I thought you were dead,” I whispered. The words sounded strange, as though I’d been carrying them around for too long.

His eyes closed briefly, and I saw the pain there. The same old pain that never really left him, no matter how many years had passed.

“I thought the same about you,” he muttered, brushing a hand through his hair as if trying to shake off the years. “I didn’t think I’d ever find you again.”

And for a moment, there was nothing else. No chaos. No world falling apart. Just us, standing there, lost in time.

Joel’s hands tightened around me, as if he wasn’t ready to let go. I wasn’t either. The air between us was heavy now, charged with all the things left unsaid.

Joel squeezed my hand, his thumb brushing over the back of it. “We’ve got time, y/n. Time to figure this out.”

I nodded, barely able to contain the wave of emotion that had built up in me. I wanted to say something—anything—but the words felt too small for what I was feeling.

Instead, I just held onto him. The man I had once thought I’d lost forever. And in that moment, I let myself believe that, maybe, we could find our way back. Together.

The sun had dipped low, casting a warm, golden hue over Jackson. The town, though small and humble, had become a symbol of stability in a world that had long been devoid of it. The smell of fresh bread from the local bakery drifted through the air, mixing with the earthy scent of pine and the faint hum of distant laughter. It was a peaceful night—one that Joel thought he’d never see again, especially after everything that had happened with Ellie, the Fireflies, and the things we’d both lost.

I stood just a few steps away from him in the courtyard, my hands folded tightly in front of me, my brow furrowed as I glanced down at the ground. The years had left our marks—on both of us—but there was something familiar in the way my eyes met his. He could see the same spark, the same strength. He felt a rush of relief in his chest, but also something else—something he hadn’t quite expected.

Fear.

Joel cleared his throat,

I sighed, my gaze drifting toward the horizon. There was a long pause. After a moment, I spoke again, voice steady, but my words were pointed. “I thought I’d lost you, Joel. I thought… I thought I’d never see you again.”

My eyes softened, and I stepped closer, placing a hand on his arm, but my gaze remained intense, searching his face for the truths he hadn’t shared in all the years they’d been apart. “I need you to understand something. I don’t just… need you here now. I want you here. With me. I’m not letting go of you again.”

The words cut deeper than he expected. He hadn’t realized just how much he needed to hear that. But as she spoke, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was coming—a decision she was making, and he wasn’t going to like it.

He swallowed hard and met her gaze. “There’s something you need to know about what I’m doin’, y/n.” His voice softened, but the weight of it was unmistakable. “I’m takin’ Ellie to the Fireflies. She’s the key to everything. Maybe the cure.”

My face remained neutral, but my jaw tightened. “I know. I heard about it. You’re gonna try to save the world, right?”

Joel flinched at the way I said it—like I was trying to keep my emotions in check, but the words cut anyway. He hated that she had to be so strong, so distant, but he understood why. We had both lost too much in this world to trust anything easily.

“I have to do this,” Joel said, his voice thick with determination. “It’s for Ellie. It’s for everyone.”

My expression hardened. I took a step back, crossing my arms over my chest, as if weighing something. “And you think you’re just going to leave here alone? After all these years?” I asked, my tone cutting now, almost like a challenge. “You think I’m just going to sit here and let you go off on your own? No. I’m coming with you, Joel.”

Joel’s heart skipped a beat, his thoughts momentarily swirling. “Y/n, I just got you back. I—I can’t lose you again.” His voice faltered for a moment, the rawness of his emotions slipping through despite his best effort to stay composed. “You’ve already been through enough, seen enough. You don’t need to be part of this.”

My face was unyielding. “You don’t get to decide that for me,” I said, my voice steady but firm. “I’m not who I used to be, Joel. I know what it means to survive, to fight for what matters. And you—you are what matters. You think I’m going to sit back and let you walk into danger without me?”

Joel looked at her, his mind racing. His first instinct was to protect her, to keep her safe from the world and all its cruelty. It was why he’d shut her out for so long, why he’d tried to push her away before. But she was different now. Stronger. And she wasn’t backing down. Not this time.

“Don’t make me choose between you and her,” he muttered, voice barely above a whisper.

My eyes softened, and I reached for his hand, my grip firm but gentle. “I’m not asking you to choose. I’m asking you to let me help.” My eyes locked onto his. “We’ve been through too much to turn back now. We’ve already lost so much. I’m not losing you again—not when we’re so damn close.”

Joel closed his eyes, his breath coming out in a rush. The pain of his past, the burden of Ellie’s safety, the fear of losing y/n all pressed in on him at once. But when he looked at her again, something in her expression—a quiet strength, an unshakeable resolve—made him realize that this was something he couldn’t keep from her. Not anymore.

“I don’t want you to get hurt,” Joel said, his voice low, filled with a vulnerability he hadn’t allowed himself to show in years.

“You won’t stop me,” I replied softly, but there was no hesitation in my voice. “And you don’t have to carry this alone anymore.”

For a moment, the world outside of Jackson felt like it didn’t exist. In that space, with my hand in his and the years between us seeming both too short and too long, Joel knew that I wasn’t just offering him my presence. I was offering him something he didn’t know he needed: a partnership—a choice to face whatever was coming, together.

“Alright,” Joel said, his voice steadying, his decision made. “We do this together. No turning back.”

My smile was small but fierce, the quiet promise of our unspoken bond lingering in the air between us.

And for the first time in a long time, Joel felt like maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t going to lose everything he loved again.

[oldsoul007]

oh, baby

joel miller x reader

summary: joel and y/n connect over being a single parent

a/n: i don’t really know what this is but i thought it was cute

I love request!

joel miller masterlist

It was a quiet afternoon when Joel decided to take Sarah out to a local café for lunch. They’d been cooped up at home for days, and he figured a little outing would do them both good. Sarah, as usual, was full of energy, chattering nonstop about everything she’d learned in her preschool class. Joel half-listened, half-watching her with a soft smile as he sipped his coffee.

As they sat at their booth, a young woman with a baby in tow walked past their table, heading toward the counter. The baby—Joel couldn’t have been more than six months old—was bundled up in a soft blue blanket. The woman, with her beautiful hair and easy smile, caught Joel’s eye for a moment as she passed. She seemed familiar, but he couldn’t place where he’d seen her before.

She settled into a booth across the room, a little distance away, but something in the way her baby was looking at him caught Joel’s attention. The infant, a chubby-cheeked little boy, was staring directly at Joel. And not just looking—staring, like he was trying to figure something out. His big eyes were wide with curiosity, and as Joel shifted in his seat, the baby’s face broke into a small, soft smile.

Joel blinked in surprise, unsure how to react. Babies didn’t usually single him out like that. He gave a small, instinctive wave, half-embarrassed by the attention, but the baby only smiled more, his eyes locked onto Joel with an intensity that was almost too much. Joel let out a quiet chuckle and leaned back in his chair, feeling his own cheeks warm under the scrutiny.

“Dad, look!” Sarah exclaimed, pointing toward the baby. “That baby’s staring at you!”

Joel glanced down at his daughter, who had noticed the same thing. He gave her a shrug, trying to keep his tone casual. “Yeah, I think he likes my face.”

Sarah giggled. “I think he wants to be friends!”

The baby’s gaze never wavered. Joel looked across the room again and caught the mother’s eye this time. She smiled warmly at him, and that’s when it hit him—she looked vaguely familiar, though he still couldn’t quite place where he’d seen her.

I was noticing his lingering gaze on my son, raised an eyebrow and gave him a sheepish grin. “Sorry about that,” I called out, my voice soft but friendly. “He’s just really fixated on you for some reason. I promise he’s not usually so… intense.”

Joel smiled back, feeling both awkward and charmed by the exchange. “It’s no trouble,” he said, trying to sound at ease, even though the little boy’s stare was starting to make him feel like he was being examined. “He’s got a good eye.”

I laughed lightly as I shifted my baby in my arms, the boy still keeping his focus on Joel like he was some kind of magnet. “I’m y/n, by the way. And this little guy is Luke.”

Joel nodded, feeling a little embarrassed at the odd connection he was having with this woman and her baby. “I’m Joel, and this is Sarah.” He gestured to his daughter, who was happily busy coloring on the kids’ menu.

My eyes flickered briefly to Sarah, then back to Joel. “It’s nice to meet you both. Looks like Sarah and Luke could be buddies if they ever got the chance.”

Joel chuckled and shifted his gaze back to his daughter, who was now enthusiastically showing Luke her drawings from across the room. “She’s pretty good at making new friends,” he said, his voice softening as he watched Sarah interact. There was something so natural about her kindness—it always reminded him that despite the chaos of his life, he’d done something right raising her.

I followed his gaze, a faint smile playing on my lips. “She seems like a sweet girl.” My tone was warm, almost affectionate, but there was something else in my eyes—something that made Joel pause. Was that a flicker of interest?

For a moment, the conversation lapsed into comfortable silence. The soft clinking of cups and cutlery from the other tables filled the air, and the babies’ quiet babbles and giggles blended into the background. Joel felt a tug of something—something he hadn’t felt in a while. An interest, an attraction, maybe? But as quickly as the thought crossed his mind, he pushed it aside.

“I’m sure you’ve got your hands full,” he said, trying to steer the conversation away from anything too personal. “Raising a little one, especially with… everything that’s going on.” He let the last part trail off, not wanting to assume too much, but still curious about my situation.

I met his eyes, and for a brief moment, there was a softness in my expression, a quiet strength. “Actually, it’s just me and Luke. No husband.” I smiled, but there was something almost wistful in my eyes. “Not that I mind. It’s just the two of us.”

Joel blinked, surprised. He’d assumed, based on the way she spoke, that there was a husband or some kind of support in the picture. “I didn’t know,” he said, almost apologetically.

I laughed softly, as if it wasn’t something I minded sharing. “It’s not something I usually bring up, but I don’t really mind being open about it. It’s just how things are, you know? But enough about me. What about you?”

Joel shifted, unsure how to respond, the sudden shift in the conversation leaving him both intrigued and a little nervous. “It’s just me and Sarah. I’ve been doing the solo thing for a while now.”

I nodded, my gaze warm and understanding. “It’s not always easy, is it? Doing it on your own.”

“No,” Joel said, his voice a little quieter. “It’s not. But I’ve got Sarah, and that makes everything else a lot more manageable.”

I smiled at that, my gaze softening as I looked at him—really looked at him—and for a moment, the air between us seemed to thrum with an unspoken understanding. We both knew the challenges of raising kids on our own, and we both knew the weight of that responsibility.

It was at that moment that Luke gave a small gurgle, and Joel realized the baby had finally broken his intense gaze, now more interested in the rattle his mother was shaking for him.

Joel exhaled a quiet breath, his heart still unexpectedly racing from the interaction. “I think he’s finally looking at something else,” he said with a laugh, his nervous energy easing a little.

I smiled again, but this time, it wasn’t just a polite smile. It was a real one—a smile that seemed to carry the possibility of something more. “Well, if it makes you feel better,” I said with a wink, “you’ve got Luke’s approval.”

Joel’s lips quirked into a half-smile as our eyes met, a spark of something more—something tentative but unmistakable—passing between us.

He wasn’t sure where this might go, if anywhere at all, but in that moment, it felt like the start of something new. And for the first time in a long while, that thought didn’t feel so scary.

[oldsoul007]

“just friends”

joel miller x reader

summary: y/n and joel confess their real feelings for each other

joel miller masterlist

Me and Joel had been best friends for as long as we could remember. We’d spent countless hours laughing, supporting each other through tough times, and sharing our dreams. There was an unspoken bond between us, something deeper than friendship, though neither had ever acknowledged it—until that night.

I had been excited for my date, which was a rare occasion. I’d been talking to Joel about it all day, telling him how nervous I was. Joel, however, wasn’t as thrilled. He’d been quiet about it, his usual teasing banter replaced by an uncomfortable silence whenever the topic came up.

As the evening approached, Joel couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. He kept offering me advice on how to handle the date, but his tone was off, almost as if he was trying to find a reason to keep me from going.

“Are you sure you want to go out with him?” Joel asked, his voice tight with something I couldn’t quite place. “You’ve only met him once.”

I frowned, sensing the unusual tension. “What’s with you, Joel? You’re acting all weird. It’s just a date, nothing serious.”

He shifted uncomfortably, avoiding my gaze. “I just don’t like the idea of some guy getting to know you better. I mean, what if he’s not good enough for you?”

I blinked, taken aback. “What are you talking about? I’m an adult, I can decide who I go out with.”

Joel exhaled sharply, looking frustrated. “I just… I don’t know. I don’t like it. You deserve someone who really gets you. Not some random guy.”

I chuckled, thinking it was just Joel being protective, but something in the way he said it made me pause. “Why are you so obsessed with this guy I’m going out with?” I asked, my voice a little sharper than I intended.

Joel’s eyes widened, and for a moment, he looked like he wanted to say something, but then he just shook his head. “Forget it. Have fun on your date.”

Later that night, after y/n had gone on her date, Joel sat alone in his room, his mind racing. He couldn’t stop thinking about her, about how she smiled when she talked about the guy she was meeting, and how her eyes lit up in a way they never did when they hung out together. The jealousy gnawed at him, and for the first time, he realized that maybe it wasn’t just about the guy—maybe it was about him.

He had spent years suppressing his feelings, telling himself that what he had with y/n was special enough, that their friendship was enough. But the thought of her with someone else… it felt like losing her.

When y/n finally came back from her date, she was glowing, but Joel could see something in her eyes, too—a hint of uncertainty.

“So, how was it?” he asked, trying to keep his voice casual, though it came out sounding more anxious than he meant it to.

“It was nice,” I replied, but there was a pause before I added, “But honestly, I kept thinking about you the whole time.”

Joel’s heart skipped a beat, his breath catching in his throat. “What?”

“I don’t know… I was just thinking about how much I wanted to talk to you, how I wanted to tell you everything,” I admitted, a shy smile tugging at the corners of my lips. “It just wasn’t the same, you know?”

Joel’s voice cracked when he spoke. “Y/n, I… I can’t do this anymore. I can’t pretend like I’m okay with you being with someone else. I… I love you. I’ve always loved you.”

I froze. The words hung in the air between us, as if everything had shifted in an instant.

For a long moment, I stared at him, my mind trying to process it all. And then, slowly, I walked over to him, my voice soft but steady. “I love you too, Joel. I’ve just been too afraid to admit it.”

In that moment, all the unspoken feelings, all the years of being best friends and nothing more, melted away. We stood there, both realizing that what we’d been searching for, what we’d needed all along, had been right in front of us.

And for the first time, Joel understood: sometimes, the person who knows you best is the one who’s been there all along.

My breath hitched as I took a step closer, my heart racing. Joel’s gaze met mine, searching, as if trying to confirm the same truth I’d just uncovered. Then, without a word, he reached out, his hand gently cupping my face, his thumb brushing along my cheek. My eyes fluttered shut at the warmth of his touch, the proximity intoxicating.

“Y/n,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion.

I opened my eyes, meeting his with the same depth of feeling reflected in his. “Joel…” I breathed, and in that moment, everything else vanished. The years of friendship, the lingering doubts, the fears—all disappeared in an instant.

He leaned in, and as our lips met, it was like an explosion of feeling, all the pent-up affection and longing they’d kept hidden, crashing together in a perfect, fiery union. His lips were soft yet insistent, and I responded with equal fervor, pulling him closer, as though I could somehow melt into him.

We kissed as if time itself had stopped, the world spinning around us, but nothing mattered except the feeling of being in each other’s arms. It was the kind of kiss that made the heart ache, that made everything seem right in the world. And for a long, breathless moment, we forgot everything except the love we had both just realized.

[oldsoul007]

no strings

javier peña x reader

summary: y/n and javier promised no strings attached…

a/n: kissing, cliche, enjoy ;)

javier peña masterlist

please request!!

It started in the aftermath of an operation that went sideways—one of those missions where everything that could go wrong did. The DEA had been closing in on one of Pablo Escobar’s key lieutenants, but the whole thing blew up, leaving a trail of destruction in its wake. People were hurt, intel was compromised, and the Cartel had managed to slip through their fingers yet again. The sting of failure lingered in the air for days.

Javier Peña had been through his fair share of disasters in Colombia, but this one hit harder. He was no stranger to the stress of the job, but lately, something was different. He was tired. The long hours, the constant threat of violence, the pressure from the higher-ups—it was all starting to wear on him. He found himself retreating into his own head more often than not.

I was a recent addition to the team, had been thrust into the fray during this operation. I was sharp, efficient, and determined, but like Peña, I was feeling the weight of the mission. I’d come from a different unit, one more focused on money laundering and financial crimes, but the lure of the Cartel’s operations was too much to ignore. I didn’t mind the intensity of the job, but there were moments when even I questioned what I was doing in the field.

After the failed operation, the team needed a debrief. Tensions ran high, voices were raised, and blame shifted from one person to the next. Peña, ever the diplomat in the face of chaos, did what he always did—kept his head down, worked the angles, made sure everything was documented. But after hours, when the office cleared out and the city felt too quiet, he found himself alone in a corner of the safehouse, sipping his whiskey in solitude.

I had been just as shaken by the operation as he was, found myself drawn to him. I wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was the quiet resilience in his eyes, the way he didn’t pretend to have all the answers but still carried on like the weight of the world didn’t crush him. Or maybe it was just the exhaustion that made me seek out the only other person in the room who seemed to understand what it felt like to lose.

I walked over to him, pausing just outside his peripheral vision. For a moment, neither spoke. It wasn’t until the silence grew too heavy that I finally broke it.

“You good?” I asked quietly, almost too quietly, as though I was testing the waters.

Peña didn’t look up right away. He took another sip of his drink and let the warmth of the liquor settle in his chest before answering. “Yeah. You?”

“About as good as anyone can be after that mess,” I replied, a slight edge of bitterness in my tone.

He nodded, recognizing the sentiment. We both knew that in this line of work, the “messes” were constant. Still, there was something different about this one—it felt personal, like we’d lost more than just the case.

A beat of silence passed. Peña felt the familiar weight of exhaustion drag him down, but I was still standing there, a presence he hadn’t expected but didn’t mind.

Without thinking, he gestured to the empty chair across from him. “Sit,” he said, his voice low, almost tired.

I hesitated for a second, but then I slid into the chair, the weight of our shared fatigue settling between us. Neither said anything for a few moments, but there was a quiet understanding. It was rare in our line of work to find someone who didn’t judge you for the things you did or didn’t do. I wasn’t interested in pretending everything was fine, and neither was Javier. We just… were.

Eventually, Peña broke the silence. “You handled yourself well out there. That’s not easy to do.”

I gave him a brief, appreciative glance, though I didn’t respond right away. The tension between us was palpable but unspoken. We weren’t friends. Not really. We were colleagues, bound by the same purpose. But something about the shared weight of our mission—and the night—made the distance between us feel a little less important.

That night, the conversation shifted to the case, the details of what went wrong, and how we could fix it. It wasn’t much different from the countless debriefs we’d done before. But it felt different, in the way our eyes occasionally met, or the way my hand brushed his as I passed him the files. And by the end of the night, when I stood up to leave, there was a silent question hanging in the air between us.

It wasn’t the first time he had a casual encounter, nor was it the first time we’d both been under pressure. But this felt different. Maybe it was the exhaustion. Or maybe, just maybe, it was because both of us needed something to break the tension, to give us a way to escape from the constant storm of our work, even if only for a few minutes.

Without words, we ended up back in one of the spare rooms. No strings. No expectations. Just a release. The physicality of it offered something the job couldn’t—a momentary break, a way to shed the weight, to forget about the dangers we were facing every day.

It was raw and uncomplicated, and in that fleeting space, we both understood what the other needed. But as the night ended and the dawn came creeping in, neither of us said anything about what had happened. It was just another night in our chaotic lives.

But it wasn’t the last time. And neither of us really knew where it would lead. We just knew we needed it, whatever “it” was.

The tension in the room was thick, and it wasn’t just the heat. Javier Peña stood in front of me, his eyes dark with desire. Without a word, he pulled me into his arms, and my breath caught as his lips crashed against mine. The kiss was deep, urgent—everything we’d both been holding back for too long.

Javier’s hands were rough but gentle as they slid down my back, pulling me closer. My fingers tangled in his hair, and I could feel the heat of his body seeping into mine.

“Te he querido desde el primer momento que te vi,” Javier growled against my lips. (I’ve wanted you since the first moment I saw you.) His words were like a promise, a confession.

My heart raced as I kissed him back, feeling the fire between us ignite. He tasted like something dangerous—strong, unyielding, yet utterly captivating.

He pulled away for just a second, his breath ragged, his forehead resting against mine. “Eres todo lo que necesito,” he whispered, his lips brushing mine with each word. (You’re everything I need.)

I could feel the heat in his words, the raw emotion he rarely showed. My fingers trailed down his chest, feeling the firm muscles beneath the worn shirt.

Javier’s hand slid into my hair, tilting my head back slightly to deepen the kiss. “No sabes lo que me haces sentir,” he murmured, his voice dark and needy. (You have no idea what you make me feel.) His lips moved slowly down my neck, each kiss leaving a mark, a promise.

I couldn’t hold back any longer. I pulled him back to me, my lips capturing his in a desperate, hungry kiss. Javier’s hands slid down my back, gripping me tighter, pressing my body against his.

“Vas a ser mi perdición,” he whispered, his voice low and full of desire. (You’re going to be my downfall.)

My pulse quickened at the intensity in his voice, and I responded by kissing him harder, feeling the same pull, the same inevitability between us. Everything else faded away—there was nothing.

For months, we had managed to keep things casual. What started as a no-strings-attached arrangement between us had turned into something more complicated, though neither of us was ready to admit it. The physical connection was undeniable—intense, satisfying—but beneath it all, emotions had started to creep in, uninvited and unwelcome. We both pretended not to notice.

I liked to joke around, keeping things light, often throwing in playful jabs at him. It was my defense mechanism, a way of guarding myself from what I feared might be slipping into something deeper. I wasn’t sure when the line between friendship and something more had blurred, but it had. And now, it was hard to pretend she wasn’t feeling something more than just the thrill of the next encounter.

He, too, played the game, hiding behind sarcastic remarks and that same casual demeanor that had always been his shield. But every time I teased him, every time I made one of my jokes, it stung a little more than it should. He hated the idea that she might not see him as anything more than just a “friend” in the way he wanted to be seen.

He’d smile it off, pretending it didn’t bother him, but the words she said lingered longer than they should. It wasn’t just her teasing; it was the way she looked at him sometimes, with that softness in her eyes that said something more. He couldn’t decide if he wanted to ask her about it or pretend it wasn’t there.

For all his deflecting, he couldn’t ignore the small things. The way she would linger for a second too long when she touched his arm, the way her laugh seemed to carry a little more warmth when they were alone. She always kept a distance, kept the walls up, but he could sense the cracks forming, the spaces where something else was starting to show.

And myself? I wasn’t blind. I noticed how sometimes he would get quiet, or how his gaze would soften when he looked at me. He wasn’t as unaffected as he liked to act. I couldn’t deny that every time our eyes met, there was a spark—one that neither of us was willing to admit to. I played it off, always covering up with humor, always pretending it didn’t matter. But it did. I knew it did.

For months, we existed in this gray space—where the boundaries were clear, but the feelings never stopped pushing against us. We both understood the rules of our arrangement, but neither had anticipated how much harder it would be to stay detached as our connection deepened.

Every time I laughed, teasing him or making light of our situation, there was something else beneath the surface. Something that hinted at care, maybe even longing. But we never talked about it. We couldn’t. Not if we wanted to keep things simple. And so, we carried on—two people pretending we weren’t on the verge of something we both feared to name.

Javier stood outside y/n apartment, his heart beating faster than usual. It wasn’t just the usual pull he felt toward her—no, this was different tonight. Something about the evening, about the way things had been building between them, had him feeling a bit… off-balance. He knew they were friends with benefits, had been for a few months now, but lately, it had felt like there was something more lingering beneath the surface. Something unspoken, something neither of them was acknowledging.

His knuckles rapped softly on her door, the sound barely making a dent in the silence of the hallway. He could hear movement from inside, the shuffle of footsteps, and then the soft click of the lock as the door opened. She stood in the doorway, her expression soft but inquisitive. Her hair was loose around her shoulders, looking effortlessly beautiful in a way that always made his chest tighten.

“Javi?” I asked, a slight curve to my lips as I leaned against the doorframe. “You ok—”

But Javier didn’t answer her question. The air between us felt thick, charged with something neither of us had ever been brave enough to voice. Before he could even think to respond, he moved forward, stepping into my personal space with a quiet urgency. Without a word, he cupped my face in his hands, and before 8 could register what was happening, he kissed me—deep, hungry, as though he hadn’t seen me in years instead of just a few days.

I gasped against his lips, my hands instinctively reaching up to hold onto him, to steady myself as his kiss deepened. It wasn’t the gentle, teasing kiss we were used to; this was something else, something desperate, something unspoken. I felt it, too—the change in the air between us, the shift in our dynamic.

When we finally broke apart, my breath was ragged, and my pulse was racing. I stared up at him, my eyes wide and searching. “Javi…” I whispered, trying to catch my breath. “Is something wrong?”

Javier didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he rested his forehead against mine, his hands still gently cradling my face, his thumbs brushing across my cheekbones. There were so many things he wanted to say—things that had been building up inside of him for weeks now. But he couldn’t quite find the words. He didn’t know how to say it, how to voice the thing that was gnawing at him, the feeling that maybe, just maybe, he didn’t want to be just friends with benefits anymore.

“I don’t know…” he murmured finally, his voice low, almost uncertain. “I don’t know if something’s wrong. But I needed to see you.”

I searched his eyes, studying the way he held me, the intensity in his gaze. “You could’ve called me,” I said gently, my fingers tracing the edge of his jawline. “You didn’t have to knock on my door like that.”

“I know,” Javier whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “But this… this felt right. This is where I need to be.”

My lips parted as I processed his words. I felt it, too. The pull, the heat between us that was growing with every passing day. But the reality of our arrangement had always been clear—friends with benefits, nothing more. No strings. No complications.

But tonight, it felt like everything was on the verge of changing. And neither of us knew what that meant.

Before I could speak, Javier kissed me again, this time slower, more deliberate. His hands slid down my neck, fingers grazing my collarbones as if he was trying to memorize the feel of my skin. I leaned into him, my hands threading through his hair, holding him close as if I, too, could sense the shift, the uncertainty, the tension that hung between us.

When we broke apart again, this time, there was a new understanding in the air, something unspoken but felt deep in our chests. Javier didn’t say anything, but his eyes—his eyes said it all. He wanted more than this.

I swallowed, trying to find the words that had been on the tip of my tongue, but we all seemed inadequate. I wasn’t sure if I could even articulate the fear, the doubt, the feeling of wanting something more but not knowing if I was ready to risk it.

Instead, I just rested my forehead against his, her breath coming in short, shallow bursts. “Javi, we can’t—”

“I know,” he interrupted softly, pressing a kiss to my temple. “I know. But I need to figure it out.”

We stood there in silence for a long moment, holding each other, each lost in our own thoughts. The weight of what we had been, what we were, and what we might become hung between us, too heavy to ignore. Neither of us knew exactly what would come next, but in that moment, the connection was undeniable.

And for the first time in a long while, Javier felt like maybe—just maybe—the line we’d drawn between friendship and something more was starting to blur.

My fingers softly traced the line of his jaw, my voice barely a whisper. “I don’t want things to get complicated, Javi…”

“Neither do I,” he replied, his voice equally quiet but firm. “But I can’t help it. Not with you.”

It was dangerous, we both knew that. We had crossed a line before, and now it felt like we were standing on the edge of something even more uncertain, more terrifying.

But for now, in the quiet, in the stillness of the night, neither of us could deny the spark that had always been there—and that, maybe, was enough for now.

Me and Javier sat in the dimly lit break room, the hum of the coffee machine filling the silence between us.

Javier had been unusually quiet all evening, his eyes focused on the papers spread across the table, smoking his usual cigarette, but his mind clearly somewhere else. I noticed the tension in his shoulders, the way his jaw clenched whenever our eyes briefly met. I had felt it too—the shift, the subtle change that had been creeping between us for weeks now. We had crossed a line, but neither of us had been willing to admit it.

I broke the silence first, my voice soft but firm.

“You’ve been quiet tonight,” I said, leaning back in my chair. “More so than usual. What’s going on?”

Javier hesitated, then glanced up at me. His eyes softened, almost imperceptibly, as if he’d been caught off guard by the question.

“You know, this job…” He trailed off, running a hand through his hair. “It wears on you. People die, things go wrong. We’re in it so deep, sometimes I forget what it’s like to just—” He paused, searching for the right words, “—feel something that isn’t just about getting the next lead or dodging bullets.”

I nodded slowly, my gaze never leaving his. I knew exactly what he meant. I’d been feeling it too, the weight of it all, the constant danger and the darkness of our world creeping into every part of our lives. But what I hadn’t been able to shake was the pull I felt toward him. It had started as nothing more than a moment of comfort in the chaos, a way to numb the tension that hung between us. But over time, it had become something I couldn’t ignore anymore.

“You’ve been acting distant lately,” I said quietly, my voice tinged with an emotion I couldn’t quite name. “Like you’re pulling away.”

Javier’s gaze hardened, but it wasn’t anger. More like confusion, or perhaps vulnerability. “I guess I am. But it’s not about you. It’s… it’s everything. I don’t know how to keep doing this without losing a part of me, y/n. It’s hard to separate what we do from who we are. And when you start to let someone in, even just a little, it feels like you’re asking for trouble.”

My heart skipped a beat. I could feel the weight of his words, the fear behind us. It was the same fear I had been carrying inside myself for weeks now.

Without thinking, I stood up and walked over to him, my movements deliberate, but not without hesitation. I reached for his hand, her my brushing against his. His hand tensed for a moment before he allowed me to hold it.

“You don’t have to pull away, Javi,” I whispered. “I’m not asking for anything more than what we already have. But I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel this, whatever this is.”

His gaze softened, and for the first time that night, he let down his guard, allowing himself to look at me—not as his partner, not as a colleague, but as someone who understood him in a way no one else could.

“I feel it too,” he confessed, his voice low, almost reluctant. “But I don’t know how to handle it. I don’t want to put you at risk. You mean more to me than you know.”

My breath hitched, and I squeezed his hand a little tighter. “You think I don’t know that? We’ve been living in this world together for so long, Javi. I get it. I don’t want to be a liability to you, either. But I can’t ignore how I feel. And I’m not sure I want to anymore.”

Javier let out a slow breath, his thumb lightly brushing the back of my hand. “I’ve spent so much of my life shutting everything else out. It’s easier that way. But you’ve always been different. Maybe that’s the problem.”

I leaned in closer, my voice barely above a whisper. “Maybe it’s not a problem. Maybe it’s just… us.”

Javier’s lips curled into a faint smile, one that didn’t reach his eyes but carried a warmth that felt almost like relief. “You know, we might be crazy for this. But I can’t keep pretending I don’t want this too.”

For a moment, neither of us spoke, just standing there in the quiet of the room, both of us realizing the depth of what we’d confessed. It wasn’t just physical. It was the understanding, the shared experiences, the unspoken bond between us that ran far deeper than either had ever been willing to admit.

I reached up, gently touching his cheek, my fingers tracing the familiar lines of his face. “I’m not asking for promises, Javi. Just… not to shut me out.”

He leaned into my touch, his eyes closing briefly as he let the warmth of the moment settle over him. When he opened his eyes again, we were softer, but still guarded.

“I won’t,” he said, his voice steady, but with a hint of something more. “I don’t know what this means for us—what it means for the job—but I’m not going anywhere. Not without you.”

I smiled, the weight that had been pressing on my chest for weeks finally lifting. “Then let’s just take it one day at a time.”

Javier nodded, his hand still holding mine, as we stood together in the quiet of the safehouse, each of us uncertain of what the future held, but for the first time in a long while, willing to face it together.

[oldsoul007]

javier peña

intro

please request I love new ideas!!!

please do not plagiarize my work

no smut

patience

no strings

undercover

late night

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