#joel miler

[strangererotica]

The dream house I’d live in with Joel Miller. ❤️

📍 Gainesville, TX

[majestyeverlasting]

Hello there! :) If I may, I’d like to request a Joel miller x reader ⇩

something where the reader is experiencing a migraine (headache + nausea and all that) and Joel tries calling her all day while he’s out and when he gets home he finds her asleep in pitch black room and realises what’s wrong, but knows exactly how to comfort his girl? 🥰

*im sorryyy if that’s long or weirdly specific it’s just something I’ve been struggling with lately and I need some comfort about it don’t mind me😻)*

𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 | 𝐣𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫

Pairing Joel Miller x Female Reader 

Summary Joel comes home to find that you’re suffering from a migraine in bed. Luckily, he’s helped you through this once or twice. [no outbreak, hurt/comfort, fluff, 1.8k]. 

A/N Thanks for this request! I promise it's not weird at all. In my head, this is Joel and reader from here with you. 

⠂⠁⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂

Joel (8:57 AM) Sorry I missed you this morning, didn’t wanna wake you. Have a good day. -J

Joel (11:02 AM) Checking in. You up and at em yet? 

Joel (2:34 PM) Everything okay? Call you in a bit. -J

Still nothing from you. Joel locks his phone and rests his forearms on his legs. 

Today is the warmest day all week. Getting to ditch the extra layer is nice. Tommy shields his eyes from the sun as he exits a prim house with a spotless driveway and plush lawn. Beside it is another perfect lot, and another, and another, arranged around the whole cul-de-sac. He and Joel had been contracted to do a kitchen upgrade for the new homeowners and were in the process of working through the finishing touches.

From his seated position on the curb, Joel looks over his shoulder as footsteps approach. Tommy draws his leg back like he plans to kick him, and snickers when he leans out the way.

“Watch yourself,” Joel warns.

“Or what?” A smirk pulls at Tommy’s lips. “I’ll lay your old ass out on this asphalt.”

Joel shakes his head as Tommy sits down beside him with a grunt. A comfortable silence settles between them, and Joel fights the urge to check his phone even though it hasn’t buzzed. Tommy notices the slight tension in his shoulders but chalks it up to wanting to be done for the day. After the owners did their final walkthrough tomorrow, a three-day weekend awaited.

A cool breeze rolls through as Tommy stretches his legs out in front of himself, his jeans peppered with dust and dried specks of white paint. When he takes a swig from the bottle he walked outside with, Joel’s squints at the label, his interest piqued.

“Kombucha?” he says with furrowed brows.

Tommy nods as he swallows. “Sarah put me on,” he says after wiping his mouth. “Helps with your gut. Something like that.”

“A few crunches should do the trick,” Joel mutters.

Tommy snorts and elbows him. “Right back at you, smartass.” Joel huffs a breath at that. “Hey, what do you think about going fishing this weekend—Saturday maybe?”

When his brother doesn’t respond, he knocks his knee against his. “Anybody home?”

Joel straightens up in hopes of making his anxiety less evident. Except, he wears it like a second skin. To deny it would be to deny himself.

“What time you think we’ll be done today?” The break they carved out just started, but it’s his roundabout way of suggesting they get back to work. There wasn’t too much left to do if they locked in—some additional caulking, sealing, and polishing.

Tommy shakes his head as he calculates. “Three-thirty, four?” Then he narrows his eyes at Joel. “You’ve been sitting funny since I walked out here…”

Joel’s chest puffs with a sigh as he unlocks his phone. The text thread between the two of you is already pulled up, and all three of his messages to you are unanswered. Tommy leans closer to read them and bites his lower lip as the gears start turning in his head.

He decides to draw a little levity in, “You piss her off?” There’s a teasing undertone to his question.

“Don't think so,” Joel says as he shifts. “Gonna give her a call.”

Tommy nods and claps him on the back. “We can get back to work after.”

He heads back inside to give his brother some privacy.

When you don’t answer the phone, Joel leaves a message anyway.

“Hey, sweetheart. Haven’t been able to get through to you, but I’ll be home soon, okay? Four-thirty at the latest…” he pauses to bite his lower lip. “Call me if you get this before I’m there. Love you.”

•••

It’s quiet when he arrives home. Virtually undisturbed. The pillows on the couch are positioned in the exact way they’d been left after last night’s impromptu movie night. The TV remote is in the same place on the coffee table as well. There’s nothing that suggests you’ve been stirring around at all. He walks deeper into the house to find that the kitchen and sunroom are empty too. The late afternoon sun pools in through the window.

When he makes it back around to the staircase, he jogs to the top. The wood creaks beneath his steps.

“Sweetheart?” he calls out. “I’m home. You up here?”

His voice carries to where you’re tucked in bed, but you can’t bring yourself to answer back. Not loud enough for him to hear you, at least. The ache that once pulsed throughout your head has steadied to the point where you don’t want to risk overexerting yourself and tumbling back to square one. Joel would find you anyway. He always did. And he never viewed you or your pain as a burden. He knew how to cradle both, how to ease them without second thought.

Light pours into the bedroom as the door opens slowly. You can make out the outline of his tall, broad frame, and hear the soft sound of his socks against the hardwood as he pads to you in the dark. Thanks to the blackout curtains, there’s hardly any light entering in. Only the smallest slivers.

After his eyes adjust, he can begin to make out the shapes around the room. The red glow of the alarm clock allows him to see your face, your slow-blinking eyes.

Without uttering a word, he gently presses the back of his hand to your forehead, then moves it down to rest against your warm cheek. You press into his touch just slightly, and it tugs something awful at his chest. Makes him wish he could bear your pain.

“Migraine,” you murmur.

An apologetic hum vibrates through his chest. “You been like this all day?” he asks softly.

“Got bad at noon.”

He sighs. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

You weakly reach out for his hand and give it a gentle squeeze. It’s much larger than yours, rugged and calloused, but you’d hold on forever if you could. If he’d let you. With his free hand, he picks up the tumbler bottle on the nightstand to find that it’s light.

“I’m gonna go get you some more water. It’s probably time for some more Advil too.”

The weight of his attentiveness makes you nod like you’re surrendering. And maybe you are giving something up—the burden of the day. Of having to do everything on your own. His fingers tighten around yours in a final squeeze before he lets go.

You shouldn’t miss him in the short time that he’s gone, but you do. It’s the same tug that lingered in your chest all day, but is kinder now that he’s home. Not miles away out of reach. When he comes back, it’s with more than he initially set out for, all of it somehow balanced in his hold. He quietly sets it all on the nightstand.

“You can turn the little lamp on,” you murmur. There was a battery-powered ambient lamp alongside the larger one.

“I’m aces, honey,” he assures. “You wanna sit up for a second, I got your medicine right here.”

You prop yourself up on your forearm and gratefully take it from him. He holds your tumbler to your lips so you can reach the straw to wash it down.

“There ya go,” he praises as you settle back down. “Got a cold pack and some grapes too. Get a little something on your stomach before I get dinner worked out later…” He talks, almost absentmindedly, as he continues to get you situated. But he knows exactly what he’s doing. It’s a routine he’s coaxed you through more times than he’d like.

A long hum rises in your throat as he positions the cold pack on the back of your neck. A stark but pleasant chill ripples through your overheated body like slow melting ice. All you can muster is another grateful hum as he sets the small bowl of grapes on the mattress beside you. There’s a crisp, sweet pop as you usher one into your mouth.

“Gonna go grab a quick shower.”

“Okay.”

“Don’t go anywhere,” he adds lightly.

A small smile pulls at your lips.

•••

An hour. That’s how much later you wake up in his arms with his lips at your shoulder, his strong arm draped around your waist to keep you close. There’d hardly been any words exchanged between you in the moments before then, only confirmations of each other’s comfort and whispered I love you’s. You’d dozed off a couple of times since noon, but nothing comparable to the steady rest that came along with his proximity.

He doesn't realize you’re awake until you shift and reach toward the nightstand. The light of the ambient lamp soon illuminates the room, joined by the glow of your phone a moment later. Joel takes it as a sign you’re feeling better than he found you, and that’s more than enough. The gentle, repetitive tap of your thumb against the screen lets him know you’re going through old notifications.

His hand finds your hip beneath the sheets, where he draws slow, small circles with his thumb. It isn’t long before you lock the device and set it back down.

The sheets rustle as you turn around to face him. Sleep’s haze lingers between you as you trail your fingertips along his jaw in a featherlight brush. The scratch of his beard feels nice, and you continue the motion until you’re unable to stop the fond chuckle that shakes your chest. It’s no more than a quick breath, but Joel smiles shyly anyway.

“What?” he asks, voice a little gruff.

“J,” you murmur with a teasing lilt. “You don’t need to sign your texts. I know already it’s you.” You poke an affectionate finger into his stomach.

His smile grows as he offers a helpless shrug, warmth in his dark eyes. It’s impossible to fight the urge to scoot closer and press the briefest, softest kiss to his lips. He makes a small sound in the back of his throat.

“Tommy had me thinking I might’ve done something to upset you,” he says as he brushes a knuckle across your cheek.

“I’d never ignore you like that.”

Joel knows that, but says, “Except for that one time.”

You frown in confusion, but your mouth falls open in amusement when you realize what he means. “That was a million years ago, and it lasted five minutes—not even that.”

Joel chuckles, and when it triggers you to join him in laughing, you realize that’s all he sought to gain by bringing it up.

“Clearly it left a mark.” He brings your hand to his lips and kisses the heel of your palm. A smile lingers on his lips as you laugh again.

He then studies your eyes, your nose, your lips. He loves you so much he sometimes wonders how he’s been able to manage it without bursting at the seams.

“You feelin’ a bit better?” he asks after a few quiet beats.

“Much,” you promise.

He kisses your palm again. This time he lets his lips linger.

-

Thank you so much for reading. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. I promise I see them all! 

more of this couple -> here with you

JOEL MASTERLIST 

GENERAL MASTERLIST   

[lionlena]

One last time…(No outbreak!Joel Miller x reader) ANGST

Summary: Even many months after your breakup, Jol can't stop thinking about you.

The bar was loud and full of strange faces, which was exactly the point. Distraction. Forgetfulness. He raised a hand to the bartender, who approached him.

"Same," he muttered moodily.

The bartender nodded and refilled his glass. He looked at him for a moment, used to people wanting to confess to him. But Joel didn't want to confess, he wasn't that kind of person. He just wanted to suppress it, that longing.

"Problems at work?" the bartender asked.

"No," Joel grumbled and turned around on his stool, making it clear that the bartender should piss off.

He looked around the room full of people. Suddenly, a girl who looked like you walked past him and he felt a pang in his heart.

"Fuck…" he muttered under his breath and took a large sip of whiskey, feeling a burning sensation in his throat.

He turned back to the bar and rested his elbows on the wooden counter. Months had passed and you still haunted his thoughts. And the worst part was that it was his fault. He was the one who pushed you away. He was the one who told you to go away. And he hurt you on purpose. He was the one who said all those bitter and unfair words because he was afraid of commitment.

Instead of admitting he was insecure because he was older, he told you that you were immature. Instead of telling you that he was afraid that you would realize you were making a mistake, he accused you of taking advantage of him. They were lies. He knew it, and now he couldn't stop thinking about you and how good you made him feel.

He sighed quietly and took another sip of whiskey. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a woman in her forties sitting down next to him and giving him a look he knew well. He was aware of the effect he had on women, although he never fully understood it. He would never call himself handsome, yet something about his rugged appearance and broad shoulders made it easy for him to find a woman for a one-night stand… Or a quick fuck in the bathroom. The woman who was now staring at him and playing with the straw from her drink was the type of woman he knew well. Women who, because of their maturity, were looking for MEN, not boys. And at the same time, they weren't looking for long-term relationships either.

Joel could already imagine it. They would start talking. She would laugh at his bad jokes. At some point, she would unceremoniously put her hand on his thigh and offer him a drink at her place. He would take her to his pickup. By the time they got to her place, he would be half-hard from her caresses. They would leave a trail of clothes in her apartment, and Joel would fuck her on every flat surface he could find. Then morning would come. If she offered him breakfast, Joel would decline immediately, so as not to give her any false hopes… Then maybe they would meet up by chance once or twice.

So it will be completely different than it was with you. Joel sighed and looked at his empty glass. He had a choice between asking for another drink, talking to the woman, or…

He threw a 20$ bill on the counter and without even sparing the woman a passing glance, he stood up and headed for the exit. With a slight disappointment, he realized that he didn't feel like having sex. He wanted closeness, tenderness… He wanted you.

When he stepped out of the bar, the cold air hit his face and he remembered how you always snuggled up to his side because you stubbornly refused to put on warmer clothes, so he gave you his jacket. He always grumbled about it, but deep down he knew he loved it.

He walked heavily towards the car, still unable to shake the thought of you. He knew from the morning that this was going to be a hard day, as soon as he saw the date on the calendar and the red circle he had drawn many months earlier. Your birthday.

The whole way home he couldn't stop wondering what was going on with you. After broke up he never texted or called you. He also swore he wouldn't look at your Instagram.

When he entered the dark and empty apartment, he felt an even greater burden. With a sigh, he sat down on the couch and took his phone out of his pocket. Maybe it was the influence of alcohol, or maybe longing, but with a trembling hand, he selected the WhatsApp icon. His heart clenched when he saw the last message from you: 'Buy milk and I'll make you cookies ;)' It was so painfully domestic and sweet. And so cruel… He never bought that milk, never ate the cookies you didn't make because you were too busy crying after he broke your heart.

His hand began to shake as his clumsy fingers selected the letters. Finally, he managed to write: 'Hey, how are you?' Before he thought twice, he sent you a message, and his heart sped up. When he saw that you had read the message after a moment, he held his breath. When he saw the bubble signaling that you were writing something, he couldn't help but feel happy, and suddenly… Nothing. As if you had changed your mind.

"Please…" He whispered into the void.

He waited five minutes, ten… After fifteen, he was going crazy with uncertainty. And then, in desperation, he turned on Instagram to see if you had posted anything. And the first few photos were like an icy spike piercing his heart. He saw you against the backdrop of exotic trees, sitting on a picnic blanket, smiling and hugging a large teddy bear. The next photo showed you and a smiling guy, with brown curls, and tanned skin, wearing a yellow shirt. This man was hugging you tightly, and under the photo was the caption: 'Best birthday ever. Thanks to you, Javi, every day is like my birthday.' Joel took a shaky breath and looked at the next photo, which showed your hand intertwined with Javi's in front of the TV with the caption: 'Best green flag in a relationship? When he says he loves watching Paddington 2.'

Joel took a shuddering breath. He knew this was the moment to put the phone down, but he couldn't. He couldn't blame you. He was the one who rejected you. With glassy eyes, he looked at another photo you'd posted three months earlier. It showed a stack of boxes in front of an opulent-looking villa, and the caption: 'Time for a new life in Spain.'

Joel felt as if all the air had been forced out of his lungs. Spain?! Did that mean you were no longer in the US? That he no longer had a chance to meet you by chance?

He threw the phone aside and buried his face in his hands, feeling the weight of this information. He had lost you. He had really lost you, and he couldn't blame you for that. You had the right to be happy. And maybe this Javi was a good guy, with whom you could watch funny movies, but… Despite this, he couldn't stop himself from feeling the pain and the desire to hold you in his arms one last time. He wanted to feel your weight on his chest once more. He wanted to hear your laughter once more.

He lay down on the couch and looked up at the ceiling, ignoring the single tear that rolled down his cheek. He knew he would get through this, just like any other loss. But that didn't change the fact that it hurt like hell. *

You stared at your phone screen in disbelief and finally with a sigh you threw it on the nightstand and turned over on your side, snuggling into Javi's body.

"Mi amor… Is it time to get up already?" He murmured sleepily and pulled you closer, kissing the top of your head.

"No… You can sleep in for a while. Do you want pancakes for breakfast?"

Javi stretched and opened his eyes, looking at you with sleepy, sweet brown eyes.

"No, I'm making breakfast. It's your birthday…"

You frowned and smiled.

"Yesterday was my birthday."

Javi shook his head and wrapped his strong arms around you.

"Oh, mi amor. I wasn't kidding when I said we'd be celebrating your birthday for a week. And that means for a week, I'll be making breakfast and bringing it to you in bed."

You couldn't help the feeling of warmth spreading through your chest. Your heart was still aching from Joel's sudden message, but Javi and his love soothed everything.

You giggled and kissed his chest.

"Okay… Then I'll order waffles with fruit, but… I want to cuddle some more."

Javi smiled and hugged you tighter, whispering into your hair, "With pleasure", completely unaware of the sadness that appeared in your heart.

Permanentny tag list: @harriedandharassed @cornerofacry

[thatssofarahh]

papa joel miller <3

[something-tofightfor]

Happy 43rd birthday, Joel Miller.

[cuntdestroyer3000]

Joel Miller is so important to me I can’t BEAR to see him die. Also Ellie’s my baby I don’t want to see her go down such a dark path😭

[galway-girlatwork]

WIP Wednesday

Thank you Emily, @604to647, for the tag. I love that you are so interested in what I am working on.

It is still just the three, I work on whatever one is yelling the loudest.

The first one is for Steph's, @toomanystoriessolittletime's, 47 Minutes in Heaven. My prompt was stuck in an elevator with Clint.

47 Minutes In Hell

She was beautiful. Not in the way that magazine covers boasted, but in a way that made his chest tighten. Dark waves framed a face that was all sharp angles and full lips, eyes filled with something he couldn’t quite place. Defiance? Curiosity? Or maybe, just maybe, she already knew.

The doors slid shut, trapping them inside together, air between them thickening. Glancing at him, a slight tilt of her head as if studying a puzzle before she turned away. There was a dark edge about him. As if he’d seen and done too much, if the scar was any indication. Her gut told her to be scared, to press every button, so the elevator would stop and she could escape but she didn’t and for the life of her she didn’t know why.

A mechanical groan reverberated through the confined space, as the elevator jolted to a stop, followed by an eerie silence. The emergency lights flickered on, bathing them in a dim, intimate glow.

This is for Mallory and friends, @mothandpidgeon, @schnarfer, and @whocaresstillthelouvre, Three is the Magic Number Challenge. I got Joel and Marcus Pike and the prompt is road trip.

Ties and Flannel

She brought it up that night, curled up beside him in bed, fingers tracing lazy circles against his chest. “Marcus needs this, Joel.”

Joel tensed beneath her touch; jaw clenched. “I don’t share.”

She pressed a kiss to his skin, just over his heart. “You share with me.”

“That’s different.” His voice was tight, pained. Turning onto his side, away from her. He’d spent too many years alone, drowning in solitude, believing that was all there was for him. Then she came along, cracked him open, made him need again. Now she was asking him to let someone else in—to offer the same thing he never thought he’d have to another man.

“He’s alone, Joel,” she whispered. “Like you were.”

Last but not least is Red Light. Green Light. She's a beast at over 6,000 words. My poor Pixie who will never think she will be good enough for Joel. I don't when it will ever be done.

Red Light. Green Light.

Another month went by before he heard from her.

Pixie: “Hi baby. Wait. I don’t know if I can still call you that. I’m sorry. I know it won’t fix a damn thing but I am. There’s so much to tell you. But you probably don’t want to hear it. I am though. Sorry. For what I put you through. I miss you.”

She didn’t tell him that the change in meds had landed her on the 6th floor. She didn’t tell him that one of the regulars had attacked her in an alley. She didn’t tell him that Franklin had gone to jail that night. She didn’t tell him that Franklin had found her unconscious in the tub three days later. She didn’t tell him anything. She’d already tainted what they had, it’s what trashy lil things did. They ruined everything leaving themselves with nothin. Pushing away from the lamp post, she made her way back into the bar, phone and vape slid into the apron cinching her waist before she walked up to Franklin and hugged him, just because she could.

“He didn’t answer, did he?”

Small shake of her head before he kissed the crown, telling her to be patient, something she had never been good at.

NPT and if I tag you and you've already been tagged, sorry.

@jessthebaker @tinyglamdramaqueen @almostfoxglove @pedgito @iamasaddie @ease-out-the-clutch @beefrobeefcal @guiltyasdave

@goodwithcheese @burntheedges @jolapeno @kittyfox1107

[cherubispunk]

NEPHILIM (series masterlist) - Jackson-era!Joel Miller x AFAB!Reader

summary: Joel Miller was something of a biblical figure to you. A small glimpse into the past of something archaic, untold, and harbouring on the dangerous. You liked to imagine him as one of the Nephilim. A son of god, offspring borne of a fallen angel and man. A giant of misunderstood nature. Who’s soul had been cast down on earth in punishment. His large hands had bloodshed on them, or so people had said. They whispered it quietly in the spaces between. The places he didn’t occupy often. But he was always on your mind…so there was no place for those whispers there.

a note from Lucy: biblical imagry, canibalism as a mataphor, animal imagry, joels stiff upper lip, mutual pining, two grown adults being bloody cowards!!! It's all fucking crack cocaine to me. So...enjoy two iditos in love. All parts are in chronological order.

playlist

NEPHILIM: BAMBI

w/c: 1563 | angst, fluff

summary: when does a human stop being regarded as a human…and, instead, seen as something different entirely?

Warnings: 18+ MDNI! no use of y/n but reader is referred to as ‘Bambi’, no physical description of reader apart from ‘long lashes’, brief descriptions of injury and blood, religious imagery, use of guns/ being taught to shoot, me not remembering how to shoot even though I was taught how to so there may be inaccuracies lolsies, Joel is a little bit of a dick but it’s only because he cares!

NEPHILIM

w/c: 2498 | angst, smut

summary: the disturbing comforts the disturbed.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI DARK CONTENT! no use of y/n, I tried to keep her body type as generic as possible but he might be slightly skinny coded so please let me know and I’ll change it in edits, reader is referred to as ‘Bambi’, verbally constipated Joel Miller, brief gore descriptions, heavy religious imagery and references to the bible, biblical lore, bombastic age gap!!! yahhhhh! (reader is in her 20’s/ Joel is in his late 50’s), smut, p in v sex, creampie, fingering, rough sex, possessive!joel, dom!joel/sub!reader dynamic, you know the drill with my writing, there’s probably some form of cannibalism as a metaphor, or brutal violence as a metaphor, religious imagery as a metaphor, etc. (aka, fancy word vomit)

NEPHILIM: THE FALLEN | POEM

wc: 2755 | angst, fluff?, smut

summary: fallen or damned? who's to tell when it's joel miller

Warnings: 18+ MDNI DARK CONTENT! no use of y/n, reader is referred to as ‘Bambi’, verbally constipated Joel Miller, brief gore descriptions, heavy religious imagery and references to the bible, biblical lore, yearning, idiots in love, angst angst angst!!!!!!, bombastic age gap!!! yahhhhh! (reader is in her 20’s/ Joel is in his late 50’s), smut, oral sex (m! receiving), rough oral sex, possessive!joel, dom!joel/sub!reader dynamic, you know the drill with my writing, there’s probably some form of cannibalism as a metaphor, or brutal violence as a metaphor, religious imagery as a metaphor, etc. (aka, fancy word vomit) - Lucy crying over a bloody google doc :)

[abbysthighs]

This scene is so much more emotional in the Remake. Joel really is a good dad.

[thirstyforcharacters]

Reconnection

Part 2 of the Mistakes Series

Part 1: Mistakes. Part 3: Healing

Summary: You walked away from Joel after the confrontation at Bill and Frank’s. You thought you’d never see him again. Until you did.

Warnings: angst!!!!! reader is lonely :( Joel and reader are getting better at emotions!!! mentions of canon typical violence, allusion to sexual activities, happy-ish ending

WC: 2025

Notes: soooo here is the sequel to Mistakes!! I had originally planned on only having this series be two parts, and then I thought it would be three or four, but now I’m kind of back to only doing two bc I really liked how this part ended!!! Lmk what you think about that!!

Walking out was simultaneously the best and worst thing you could’ve done for yourself. You didn’t wake up feeling unwanted. You did what you wanted when you wanted because no one was there to hover over you. You lived in the woods, trading with other people like you, dodging Infected, and killing raiders who tried to make your life more of a living hell than living on this earth already was.

But you were lonely. You missed the times you had with Joel and Tess before everything happened. You missed the feeling of having a family, even if they weren’t a great one at the end. They were the only two people you trusted, and not having that safety net was terrifying. But you made your choice and you stuck to it. On April 23rd, 2023, you left the Boston QZ and didn’t look back, not even as Joel pleaded with you to stay. Not even as you saw tears start to fill Tess’s eyes for the first and last time. Not even as you snuck through the gate and slit the FEDRA agent’s throat who tried to stop you.

For a year, you wandered. Slowly, you traveled, going from Boston down to Pennsylvania, then you made your way through the Midwest. You didn’t really have a destination, you just knew that you wanted to be as far away from Boston as you could get.

And on April 23rd, 2024, you found Jackson, Wyoming.

Well to be more specific, the residents found you.

As always, you were wandering on your own. What was snow covered terrain in the winter was now grasslands in the spring as you hiked over prairies and rolling fields, slowly approaching the Rockies to the west. At some point, you crossed a few rivers, but honestly, so much of what you traveled had blurred together at this point. It was nighttime, and you laid down to rest, setting up a small camp as always. You slept for only two hours, which wasn’t abnormal for you. But what wasn’t normal for you was to be surrounded by three people on horseback pointing rifles at you when you woke up. Immediately, you put your hands in the air. You could take three people easily if they were on the ground, but on horseback, you were at a major disadvantage.

“Who’re you?” the one in the center asked.

His accent was familiar. You searched for his face, blinking your eyes open in the dark, slowly adjusting to the low light.

“‘M Y/n. Just passing through.”

“You by yourself?” he asked again.

Your eyes widened once they were finally adjusted from the dark.

It was Tommy, Joel’s brother.

You knew him back in the day, before he ran off to join the Fireflies. He was always a bit friendlier than his older brother, despite everything he’d gone through. And he was handsome, though you had always preferred Joel in that regard.

“Tommy?”

Your voice was much more confused than you would’ve liked, but it made him stop in his tracks. He studied your face, searching for something in it until the light turned on.

“Oh, shit, you’re that Y/n! Sorry I didn’t recognize you at first, it’s been a while.”

But his gun was still pointed at you. And you knew why.

“I’m not Infected. You can check me yourselves if you want.”

You rolled up your sleeves and your pantlegs to prove a point, showing off the lack of bites and claw marks on your body.

The person on the right, a woman with dark hair jumped down from her horse. It was at that point that you noticed a dog beside them, growling at you.

“The dog will know if you’re telling the truth,” she said.

You tensed up. Despite knowing that you were clean, the large creature baring its teeth at you was still unnerving. But you allowed him to approach, and soon his growls faded as he nudged you with his nose. You couldn’t help but smile as you scratched his head, the animal giving you some comfort as you looked up at the people who were now getting off of their horses. Tommy offered you his hand and you took it, allowing him to help you off of the ground. The dark haired woman smiled at you, and the other person, a man with light brown hair and glasses looked you over.

“It’s good to see you again, Y/n. It’s been a long time,” said Tommy with a smile.

“It’s good to see you, too. Always enjoyed your company,” you responded honestly.

His smile grew a little wider, but then dropped as he asked you, “What are you doing out here by yourself? Always thought if I saw you again, it would be with Joel and Tess.”

You tensed up, and he noticed.

“Long story. Don’t have time to tell it,” you offered simply, “what about you? Still with those Fireflies?”

He chuckled, “Not exactly. I’ll show you when we get there. You can share my horse.”

Despite not seeing him in many years, you trusted him. So, ignoring the sleep that wanted to retake you, you gathered your few belongings and got on the horse, along with the two others. During the ride, you learned their names were Maria and Allen.

“Maria’s my wife,” Tommy said, beaming with pride, “we’re parents now, can you believe it?”

You smiled at them both, “Congratulations!”

But why would they want a child in a world like this?

As the sun was rising over the Wyoming mountainside, you arrived at your destination. You couldn’t help but gasp out loud at the wooden gates and stare in shock at the beautiful town sprawled out before you.

“Holy shit, Tommy!” is all you could think to say.

Tommy laughed, his eyes crinkling at the sides, “Welcome to Jackson.”

Maria smiled and said, “We’ll find a place to put you up. I’m sure you’re tired since we interrupted your sleep. We can take you on a tour in the morning.”

Suddenly, your exhaustion hit you, your eyes drooping involuntarily as a yawn escaped your lips.

“That sounds great.”

You honestly didn’t even remember falling asleep, but when you woke up to knocking at the front door of your new house, the sun was high in the sky. You yawned, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you trudged through your bedroom and the rest of your house to reach the front door.

“Hey, Y/n! Feel a little better?”

Tommy was on your doorstep with a smile.

You nodded, “Still a little sleepy, but much better, thank you.”

“Good,” he said, “you ready for that tour, now?”

“Sure.”

Tommy led you through town, pointing out the important buildings: the stables, the bar, of course, and the clinic, while explaining how things worked in town.

“Oh, and since you’re capable, we’ll probably put you in the patrol rotation as soon as you’re settled in…”

But you weren’t listening anymore. The two of you approached the school, since Tommy thought maybe you could help teach there, and there you saw something you hoped you’d never see again.

Joel.

He was talking to a teenaged girl with brown hair and a bright smile. He was laughing at something she had said, his eyes twinkling with a brightness you had never seen in them before.

Blood rushed to your ears as your heart pounded in your chest. You couldn’t help the way your hands shook as adrenaline rushed through you.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. You weren’t supposed to see him again.

“Y/n, you okay?” asked Tommy softly.

Joel’s head whipped around upon hearing your name. It couldn’t really be you, could it? Your hair was too long and tangled, your clothes too torn and dirty, your shoes barely staying on your feet.

But those eyes were unmistakable. They carried so much weight, even more than the last time he saw you. They were filled with fear, anger, sadness, but worst of all, loneliness. And it was his fault.

Joel never stopped blaming himself for what happened. He missed you every day, and no one, not even Tess could pull him from his misery. Ellie filled the Sarah-sized hole in his heart, but there was still a you-sized hole from the past year. And now that you were before him, he was determined to get you back.

“Y/n.”

The soft murmur of your name was enough to shake you of your stupor.

“Joel.”

You said nothing more. What else was there to say?

“Hey, Ellie, you want to come to my place? Maria’s baking cookies,” Tommy asked, giving you both a meaningful look.

“Sure! You’d better come around then, too, Joel!” the girl, Ellie, said cheerfully, seemingly oblivious to what was occurring.

“I will, Ellie. You run along now,” Joel replied, smiling softly at the retreating figures of Ellie and his brother.

Then his attention was on you. And quite frankly, you didn’t know what to do.

Joel stepped toward you, closing the gap until you were face to face with the man that had been haunting your dreams for the past year.

“Didn’t expect to see you around here,” he said.

You heard the weight his voice carried. Even if others couldn’t read the stoic man, you could. You knew him too well, even after all of this time.

“Well that makes two of us.”

The bitterness still tinging your voice makes him wince slightly.

“It’s good to see you alive,” he offered, “that you’re okay.”

“No thanks to you.”

The tone was sharp, offered no room for friendliness or forgiveness.

Joel sighed softly, running his fingers through his graying hair, “I know. I’ve thought about it every day.”

That made you pause, the anger simmering below the surface beginning to give way.

“Me too.”

You wouldn’t say that you missed him. That you dreamed about a world where the three of you were still a team. That when you felt really lonely, your fingers would slip below your waistband, still thinking of him. That you often wished desperately that you never left. But you felt like he knew.

“I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

His smile was tight lipped and his eyes swam with the ghosts of your shared past.

“No Tess?”

Her absence was noticeable to you. In the time the three of you had worked together, you didn’t go anywhere without the others.

Joel shook his head, “Dead.”

“Raiders?”

“Infected.”

“Oh,” you gasped, “I’m sorry.”

And you were. Tess was a good friend and a strong ally. Her death was unexpected to you, and you knew Joel had to have been there to see it. You wouldn’t wish that upon your worst enemy.

He looked at the ground, breaking eye contact with you for the first time, “Losing her was hard. I had already lost you, and then I lost her. Just like Sarah.”

Joel was never one to talk about his emotions, but you had broken down that wall during your partnership. And though you didn’t let your guard down to him, here he was using a wrecking ball.

“Joel, I-” this time you ran your fingers through the tangled mess that was your hair, trying to search for something to say.

But he continued, “I know what I did to you was wrong. Shutting you out wasn’t the answer, and I’m sorry.”

“It wasn’t. But maybe leaving wasn’t the best answer for me, either.”

That was the first time you had really admitted that to yourself.

“I should’ve talked to you, like this, before making a choice so rash. I’m so-”

“You don’t have to apologize. You did what you had to. You have to do what’s best for you in this world,” Joel interrupted, returning his gaze to you.

You nodded, “Well, maybe this is a chance for us to start fresh. Maybe it was meant to happen.”

The ghost of a smile appeared on his lips, “Maybe it was. Let me walk you home.”

And you did, with the feeling that you’d let him do it again and again.

[prokaryotics]

and so what if i wrote a joel miller reader insert based on the song silent earth by josephine illingworth. what then

[hypnotisedfireflies]

Hi Arien! Surprise self-rec time!🌷Pick 3 of your favorite things you’ve written and share them here, then put this in the inbox (anonymously or not) of your fellow writers to spread the positivity and help celebrate already written fics 💖

(if you've already gotten this from someone else, just link the post you answer in so I can check it out, please 🙏🏼)

(P.S. I think you and I share similar feelings about choosing favorites so feel free to substitute that with "3 fics you've written that have been on your mind lately)

Thank you for giving me an out, haha. I can't dabble playing favourites! 💕

The Knight of Cups

Set during selected important moments in Drifter's Dawn but through Tommy's eyes: mainly during the years Tess, Tommy and Joel travelled together in the early days of the apocalypse. I had so much fun with this - stepping out of Tess's POV, exploring stuff from a new (and maybe sometimes more honest, or unobstructed) perspective, and adding new scenes with details Tess wasn't privy to. It was my first time writing Tommy.

Spite

Tess and Joel learned to walk in Indianapolis so they could run in Boston. These are their Hunter/Raider years where they struggled most as a couple but began to really see each other, and forged the bond we later know. I still wish more of this had been in Dawn because it's so important, but I can't just add it in because of the POV changes. Anyway I am proud of the structure of this one and what it accomplished in a limited number of words.

Cordyceps: A Visual History

I hadn't written crackfic in about two decades and this came out of nowhere. A film crew documents life in Lincoln when two smugglers visit. Frank is a natural. His guests? Not so much. It's dumb, but I am proud of this one because it's just something different, silly and out of the box.

[lionlena]

Aaaaah… I can't stop looking at this photo and I want to make another Joel AI bot….

Joel and you on your honeymoon traveling through Europe!!!💖🥰💖

[coulsons-fullmetal-cellist]

Yes, Pedro made the list

[itevilhag]

I KNOW THAT I HAVEN’T POSTED THE JAKE SULLY X DAUGHTER! READER FIC BUT I KINDA GOT DISTRACTED BY THIS OTHER FIC THAT CAME UP.  . . . . IT’S A JOEL MILLER X PLATONIC!READER/DAUGHTER!READER. AND IT’S ANGSTY. MAYBE. I DON’T REALLY KNOW. 

[cuntdestroyer3000]

I’m rewatching the walking dead and I’m honestly so annoyed by the walkers. They’re TOO slow. Like ridiculously slow. Like can they be a little bit faster?? Just a little bit. Like I got to a part where the gang was walking in the road with a bunch of walkers just ambling behind them like… where’s the danger??

Idk I’ve been replaying the last of us and I just keep comparing the zombies. Like the last of us zombies are terrifying like they RUN. I just keep on thinking if it was the last of us they wouldn’t just be walking in the road with infected behind them. The infected would be chasing them.

Idk like I just wish the walkers were a little faster, just a little. It just kinda bothers me like they don’t really feel like enough of a threat. Like oh noooo it’s a walker😐it’s 10 feet away and it’s gonna take it five minutes to come over to me😐

Someone said that if Joel Miller was in the walking dead he’d get bored and I feel like that’s so true.