#country singer!joel miller

[kedsandtubesocks]

dance away your cowboy blues

Country Singer!Joel Miller x F!Reader

summary: who knew the man with the voice of an angel could break your heart this bad?

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI, modern/no outbreak AU & Joel has both his daughters, exes to lovers with eventual husband!Joel, angst followed up by good sweet fluff, concert venue, light drinking mention, Joel being stubborn & bad at feelings, hints of spice, fools in love, reader is addressed as ‘honey, darlin,’ use of song lyrics in fic, Pearl Jam & Taylor Swift song mentions, soft & heartbroken!Joel, lovesick!Joel

word count: 6k

a/n: here we are - the last installment in our ‘Let’s Rodeo’ series & I’m so incredibly grateful to finally make it here, also this is my mini tribute to our boy and his SAG award! The main song Joel sings is this one and I highly recommend! Thank you to my forever babe @the-wild-wolves-around-you for letting me scream about plot holes & aiding my Joel brainrot, @tightjeansjavi for always being down to chat about Joel, and to @lowlights & @ahauntedcowboy for being my ever guiding forces for this series, thank you all… And finally to you reading this, thank you so much ♡

A year ago, Joel broke up with you on a warm early spring morning.

He arrived at your apartment, sat you down and shattered your world. You felt every range of emotion as he simply stood there like a man of steel.

So upset and angry, you wanted to rip your heart out and throw it at him.

Then later that week you found out his record was officially getting picked up and you crumbled.

Ending your relationship simply because he was about to step into true proper fame - you never took Joel to be a man so somberly callous. However, you began wondering if that’s what fame sometimes did to people.

When curiosity gnawed too hard, you’d Google him or even check Spotify. Simply catching glimpses of how big he’s gotten sent you spiraling. Last Thanksgiving, your favorite aunt threatened to lock your phone away when she found you upset in the bathroom after discovering Joel was performing at the Dallas Cowboys holiday game.

From that point on you refused to even check any amount of social media or update on him.

A few clunky first dates and a couple of ghosting experiences later, you’ve now decided to simply work on yourself and embrace the selfcare of being single.

It’s why when your best friend called you earlier today eagerly explaining how her parents had extra tickets to the Rodeo tonight, she playfully teased how she knew you didn’t have anything planned for this Saturday night.

You almost hung up on her, but you excitedly scrambled to get ready.

Now the smell of fried foods, popcorn, and beer cloud the air. The fairgrounds hold a chaotic but controlled lively energy. You never knew so many cowboy hats could exist in one space.

Once you meet up with your best friends' parents, you’re transported to a whole new area you never believed could exist during a rodeo. Lux and cozy, the VIP lounge gleams with its elevated experience. You knew your best friend’s mom worked for the construction company managing the arena. You just didn’t realize how big of a hookup it was. The VIP tickets allowed for full premium dining along with a couple of free drinks.

More importantly - it came with the best concert seats.

“In the dirt” is how they’re described because the tickets are literally stationed on the floor, in the dirt of the rodeo stadium, right by the stage.

Ecstatic and bubby energy now fills you. The food being served is divine and you gladly enjoy the free various drinks.

“So wait, did we figure out who’s performing?” You ask curiously while you lounge taking advantage of the nice seating area.

“Uh, I think my dad said it’s that band named Midland is performing today.” Your friend answers but then is quickly pulled away to meet more of her mom’s coworkers.

You’ve never heard of the band, but for a free concert you’re open to enjoy some live music.

It’s a trait you gained from Joel.

Because of him you grew to love music performances, the energy that comes with hearing the band, being among the hum of the crowd. The trips around Austin seeing not just him perform, but enjoying other concerts with him, let you appreciate and admire live shows.

Waiting for the concert allows you to enjoy some of the actual rodeo event. But the main performance of the evening soon arrives.

“You kids go enjoy! We’re getting a little too old and are just gonna stay back and enjoy the free food.” Your best friend’s mom grins with a wink.

The ticket advertisement wasn’t joking when it said close to the stage. The ground level truly sits on the dirt floor. The arena swallows you whole surrounding you like a strange fishbowl. A small crowd already lines the front railing closest to the stage. However sneakily you find a nice open spot by the side that gives a clear sight to the stage.

Even if you don’t know the band, giddiness bubbles in you electric.

You take in the massive general admission floor section already packed full. The band must be popular. So you take plenty of pictures and happily enjoy the time with your dear friend.

The lights dim and excitement crackles in the air. The stage lights up. The large backdrop screens on the stage flutter to life beginning to showcase different picturesque black and white shots of Texas.

Midland, you remember, is a city in Texas so the images make sense. A low strum of a guitar begins playing. The melody dances soft but in a quick beat, a hypnotic tune trying to rev up the crowd.

The tune brews up its intended magic that you even get swept up in the anticipation. The sound gets faster and the strumming is rather simple but so striking.

Then the music stops. Suddenly the lights of the entire stadium shut off. Wild galvanized screams erupt.

The lights brilliantly dance forth back to light. They all focus now on the performer who, like magic, now appears on the stage with the rest of the band.

And the lead singer is Joel.

Your knees almost give out.

Dressed in the most dangerous plaid green button up, it so simple yet beautifully compliments him. More grays pepper his beard and highlight his tousled curls. The brilliant stage lights bask him in a heavenly glow.

Your soul momentarily leaves your body the minute his voice sings his first note.

Instantly your best friend whips towards you panicked. She rapidly screams asking if you’re okay as she apologizes over and over.

“My dad must have gotten the dates wrong! God I should’ve fucking doubled checked or some shit!” She cries deeply apologetic and hurt.

You earnestly tell her it’s not her fault and it’s alright. It was just an unfortunate mixup.

“Do you wanna leave?” Your friend leans closer to you. Her eyes shine understanding and considerate. “We didn’t pay for these tickets and I promise you my parents will completely understand. We can say fuck it and bounce.”

You haven’t even completely processed it’s Joel. It’s like your brain went cloudy and now blinking out of the fog, your eyes return to the stage.

Joel isn’t an extroverted man. He’s reserved, quietly charming, even holds a gruff but poised grace. But right now, he’s an absolute sun on the stage. He’s radiant, naturally swaying to the music while singing his soul soul.

Maybe it’s the piece of you still horribly in love with him, or just the curiosity to see how this goes, whatever it is - you shake your head no.

“We can stay.”

Your best friend’s eyes go wide as saucers hearing your answer.

“Are you sure?” She presses and you nod your head.

“Yeah, let’s stay. Afterwards we can laugh about how old he’s gotten.” You laugh bitterly about him looking more aged even after a year.

When truthfully the stronger wrinkles around his face, the vibrant grays, all of his aging only intensifies his striking looks.

A canyon wide sized hole rips through your heart.

The song flutters to an end and the crowd claps with a thunderous roar. With a reassuring squeeze to your shoulder your dear friend nods then turns back to the concert.

You pray this isn’t the worst decision you’ve ever made.

Then Joel speaks.

“Howdy everyone,” his voice is still so devilishly thick and smooth as a shot of moonshine. His accent does his home state proud. The crowd absolutely adores him, screaming loud just hearing him speak.

“Thank y'all for comin’ out tonight. I’m Joel Miller and m’here to sing y’all a few songs.” So simple, casually eased, and it’s so Joel.

His gruff southern charm made you fall in love with him so fast and now it’s a unique brand of magic charming everyone under his spell.

Joel strums a few notes, rapidly shifting the tune and transitions into the next song.

You now fully soak in Joel.

He seems otherworldly, a god of music reincarnated as a Texan cowboy. You think back to the days sitting in his living room and listening to him play. You were honored to see that side of him, to hear him strum to life so much magic.

During the holiday’s Joel’s daughters, Ellie and Sarah, would often pester him to sing silly songs. He’d grumpily obliged but you knew he basked in their attention and love.

He loved to sing. You always knew he was destined for the stage like it was woven into his veins.

You still remember the day one of Joel’s acoustic performances blew up online gaining so much attention. The excitement and absolute joy you felt then still lingers in the corners of your heart. Although, those feelings have been gathering cobwebs.

There’s of course a bitterness seeing him, but also, an unbearably small twinkling pride knowing he’s here living his dream. The song finishes and again the stadium rumbles in applause.

“How y’all doin’ tonight?” Joel asks and your heart jumps hearing his voice again.

The crowd cheers back at him.

“Good good, let’s keep it goin’.” He yells back and then strums the guitar sharp.

That’s when the stage slowly starts moving.

It’s slow but with the surprise purpose to look out to the entire crowd. For some reason you almost laugh thinking of that man, who couldn’t even remember how to FaceTime on his ipad, on a full rotating platform.

However, the lyrics start and you realize he’s singing a heartbreak ballad.

If you’re going out with someone new, I’m going out with someone too…I won’t feel sorry for me, I’m getting drunk but I’d much rather be somewhere with you…

It’s hard hearing him now with how exhilarated the crowd screams at the stage moving. But you try to hear how the rest of the song unfolds.

At the chorus, your throat tightens.

I can go out every night of the week, can go home with anybody I meet, but it’s just a temporary high… ‘cause when I close my eyes, I’m somewhere with you

The words sting every inch of you, but you believe it has to be just a simple heartbreak story and isn’t about you, isn’t directed at you. Yet the words feel like sharpened edges of a broken mirror that seem to reflect every moment of your time with him.

Then the stage rotates to your side of the floor.

There’s no way he can see you or will even spot you. There’s a whole crowd stretching before him. You’re just a fish in a sea of fans.

Joel continues strumming, allowing his voice to so beautifully carry the emotion.

The stage, in its slow movement, is now front and center to your line of sight. Some girls at the very direct front of the railing scream and wave frantically at him.

A small smile tugs at Joel’s lips as he waves back. Joel’s eyes scan the rest of the crowd -

And that’s when he spots you.

Quickly, you rationalize he could be staring out behind you at someone else alongside the side railing.

But Joel’s eyes even narrow trying to focus more. Your gaze stays on him, like something inside of you refuses to waiver.

His eyes flicker with realization then turn into full moons.

He knows it’s you.

Joel continues singing the chorus but emotions cloud his face. His brows are furrowed hard, almost confused like he’s trying to really comprehend what’s going on.

You understand. You’d be so confused too if you were in his position. You’re still even baffled as to why you stayed in the first place.

The stage starts shifting back to the main center direction

But Joel cranes his face to the side, refusing to have his eyes leave.

His focus stays on you.

It’s obvious enough that your best friend now shakes your body.

“Is he staring at you?!” She tries to whisper but she ends up partly screaming.

You think maybe it’s a hallucination.

Yet Joel’s deep inky eyes stubbornly stay locked on you as he sings now.

If you see out on the town and it looks like I’m burning it down, you won’t ask and I won’t say… but in my heart I’m always somewhere with you…

Your world twists warped, melting into a sea of so many emotions you can’t stay afloat.

Joel finishes his song and the crowd enthusiastically cheers. Yet, it sounds muffled as a numbness crawls over you like a thick soupy fog.

You should leave. You need to. But you’re here now. And decide to see the end of this. If he’s singing about someone lingering within him, then you might as well make true to those lyrics.

Joel lowers his face for a moment and shakes his head. The mic faintly picks up his cough of a disbelieving laugh and your heart sinks.

“Alright folks, let’s jam.” He announces composed and brings his guitar to life.

He’s beautiful walking around with it. Strums effortlessly until he shifts from one guitar, his classic, to a more sleek all black styled one.

Joel lets the music and band take over while he makes the switch. He also leans in to whisper something to the stage hand.

Then as if nothing, Joel steps back into the limelight and illuminates the stage.

He walks around freely now that the stage stopped rotating. The current song is lively with a great beat and you hate how badly you want to bounce around to its infectious sound and the way Joel’s voice elevates the tune.

Caught up in the melody, you don’t notice until it’s too late. Joel walks over to the side of the stage directly facing you.

The guitar carries a large piece of this song’s bridge allowing his eyes to flicker across the crowd.

Until they return to your gaze. Stuck in his stare, Joel suddenly cocks his chin towards you.

Most of the crowd around you screams at his simple action. Even your best friend yells out a loud ‘holy shit’ but you stay quiet.

Not knowing how to react, all you do is stupidly shrug.

It’s awful, not even the best reaction you can give.

But Joel barks a laugh, a true laugh that thankfully happens at the tail end of the song, but your knees go weak.

You made him laugh.

On stage.

Heartache finds its way back into your system fiercer than ever and it poisonously tastes of adoration as well.

Joel transitions into another song. This time moving around the stage more towards the other side.

Yet, either his eyes flicker back to you, or he ends up walking to your section.

A part of you wonders if he’s doing this now to mock you, almost showing off how good he is knowing you’re here. You don’t believe Joel would be that heartless, but you hate how that option still lingers.

“He’s been walking over here a lot.” Someone even behind you even notices.

“Well he is old.” Someone yells back. “Maybe he’s just trying to keep his joints in shape.”

You almost want to snap back that he’s looking damn good for his age and in good enough shape that he kept you bent like a pretzel for practically a whole weekend, but you swallow back the protective bite.

You simply go back to enjoying the show, and it’s fantastic. You can’t deny that. Joel is a performer, keeps the crowd focused and engaged. He isn’t showy or dramatic but takes control of his presence on stage.

You think of the days seeing him at small bars around town, sitting on a stool playing till his heart's content.

Then he booked Stubb’s in Austin and when you watched him own that stage - you knew this was meant for him.

You’re reminded of that so vividly tonight.

“Alright, gettin’ to the end here.” He announces and the crowd sounds heartbroken.

“I know, i know,” he coos back soft and low. “But just wanted to say y’all have been lovely.”

So many shrill shrieks crack in the room and you almost roll your eyes.

Your best friend snickers beside you. “Gotta give it to him, man can work a room.”

She’s right of course. Though it’s still so surprising for a man grumpily reserved and introverted at times.

“This next one I hope maybe some of y’all will know.”

He strums the cords to Pearl Jam’s ‘Alive.’

What gained Joel traction online was his renditions and covers of various songs. He added his own country twang and twist to all the songs he covered.

Pearl Jam happened to be one of Ellie’s favorite bands. A hollow nostalgia rip through you, thinking of the two girls you miss.

The crowd ignites recognizing the familiar rock ballad now turned into the tune of a country song by Joel’s touch. He owns the solo and his husky voice melts into the lyrics beautifully.

Under your breath you sing along. You used to sing along when you cooked breakfast at his place or during drives with him and the girls.

It’s a beautiful fondness, yet one still barbed and so aching.

The song ends with the intense but small burst of fireworks that has the stadium cheering. You even clap.

“Appreciate y’all.” He addresses the crowd. “That’s a one of my daughter’s favorites so always means a lot when I get to play it.”

A smile you can’t fight tugs at your lips at the mention of Ellie.

“Now my daughters, they’re like night ‘n day.” Joel continues and your heart fills up so overwhelming fast for those girls.

“One of them, like I said, loves some Pearl Jam. Now my other daughter…” Joel pauses.

“She’s a big fan of someone by the name of Taylor Swift.”

The crowd absolutely explodes and you think you even feel the arena shake. Sarah honestly was a big fan and Ellie loved to tease her about it so much.

“Normally for this next and final song, I’d play ‘‘shake it off.’” Joel had a few songs of hers that he covered. That one was a fan favorite.

“But tonight, I'm itchin’ to play somethin’ else.” He continues.

You even perk up curious.

“So let’s end this on a high note, yeah? Sing along if you know this one.” Joel concludes.

Then the drums begin and the song bursts to life.

The stadium swims in a dizzying frantic energy.

The way Joel sings, he’s pouring his heart out. He’s memorizing. Utterly heart wrenching.

This is the finale, the end of this strange unreal dream you’ve wandered into. You wonder if he feels it too.

The song’s chilling bridge comes and Joel walks to stare directly at you.

I thought I had you figured out, can’t breathe whenever you’re gone. Can't turn back now, I'm haunted…

His eyes never leave yours.

The lyrics sear through your heart. You think about screaming the song to back him. He’s the one who left, the one who’s ghost lives among your ribs.

Then Joel hits the final high note, lets his voice carry the powerful finale, and the crowd roars in earth shaking excitement.

It’s magical, magnetic and utterly devastating in both the best and worst ways. Another few sets of indoor fireworks go off and the show ends.

Joel wishes the crowd a beautiful night and you’re left in a tangled web of emotions.

Your best friend immediately turns to see if you’re okay. While the crowd starts leaving, you and her take a moment. Out of the edge of your focus, you notice a crew member of the arena approaching the side of the rail. You don’t think anything of it.

“Excuse me,” until that crew member stands in front of you on the other side of the barrier.

Blinking absolutely confused you turn towards the man.

“I’ve been asked to escort you backstage.” He explains and your best friend gasps.

You wonder if the ground opened below and dropped you into a free fall.

Quickly you stammer out that you couldn’t. There's no way. Maybe the man must’ve mistaken you for someone else.

“Mr. Miller said you’d say something like that.” The crew member says reaching into his pocket to hand you something.

It’s a keychain.

Not just any keychain, but the one you gave Joel.

It’s a cartoon armadillo, dressed up as a cowboy, holding a guitar. When you first saw it you immediately thought of Joel. His daughters got a kick over it, giggled at how cute it was, and your heart had bursted when you saw it constantly among his keys.

Now the worn little cowboy creature sits waiting for you. It’s sweet marble like eyes stare up at you like a day hasn’t gone by since you gave Joel this.

Your best friend gasps, maybe not fully recognizing the keychain but understanding the significance.

You ask the crew member if your friend can maybe accompany you backstage, but he shakes his head a sad no.

“Then I…I can’t.” You shakily breathe out.

“Yes you can!” She interjects. “You gotta at least hear him out!”

You turn to her and find determination fiercely burning in her eyes as she nods.

“But what about you? I don’t want you or your parents waiting around for me.” You urge.

“Don’t worry about me or especially about them!” She reassures, even offering to wait for as long as you need.

You’re grateful, unbearably so and embrace her tight.

“You call me if he gets stupid. I don’t care backstage or not, I’ll go get you.”

You laugh watery at her well meaning threat and thank her. With a quick sweet goodbye, you follow the crew member along the rails until exiting.

The walk out to the backstage area fills you with a hurricane of emotions. What else could Joel say to you? A part of you wonders if he’s going to be cruel about this, having you simply show up to his dressing room just to laugh so arrogant and smug about how wonderfully famous he is now.

No, Joel isn’t that type of man.

Or you hope fame hasn't warped him into that type of man. Arriving at the green room door, your heart races loud in your ears.

The crew member knocks and before you can compose yourself, Joel opens the door.

He’s bathed in the golden amber light of the backstage room. It highlights all those grays again but also illuminates more of the time passed on his face. More winkles line against his eyes and when he fully stares at you, you wonder how different you might look in his eyes.

A jackrabbit like urge rushes over you to maybe flee, call your best friend to come get you.

“Thanks for comin’,” he mutters out. “Was worried ya wouldn’t show.”

You want to bitterly joke that you didn’t want to, but the armadillo keychain you hang onto holds the truth.

The door closes leaving you and Joel alone. Awkward stale air chokes the space.

You simply keep your attention on examining the room. His classic weathered jacket rests thrown over the couch. The rider is stacked with so many classic Joel snacks like his favorite jerky, popcorn, and even a few familiar favorite treats his daughters love.

Then your eyes catch the mug on the counter and you grin softly.

It must be filled with Joel’s classic drink - chamomile and ginger tea with honey for his throat.

“It’s…yeah. That’s it.”

You didn’t even realize you said anything out loud until Joel replies casuing your heart to jump. Finally your eyes find his.

It's a curse that your greatest heartbreak is this handsome. Exhaustion weighs in you and feels ancient, like if you carry the sum of so many lifetimes before.

“So…You wanted to talk to me?” You speak first, trying to keep yourself strong.

“I…uh yeah.” Answering so cryptically, his shoulders deflate. “How ya been?”

“Good.” You answer simple, curt almost.

There’s too many things that could’ve slipped out if you said anything more. Like how you selfishly kept one of his shirts and hate that the smell of him on it has faded like a wistful memory. Or how you can barely listen to Dolly Parton or Johnny Cash anymore because you’re reminded of Joel singing along to their songs.

So you turn the conversation back to him.

You ask how the girls are and Joel perks up, eyes shimmering with fatherly pride.

“Good, yeah they’re good. Uh, Ellie’s playing softball for the school again ‘n Sarah’s busy with student council. They’re still just bossin’ me all around.”

“As usual.”

You both say the same line at the same time and it chokes you up.

Joel inhales and his lips press tight, a hard line. The air tightens. No one says anything and now annoyance, frustration and maybe even a bit of panic claw at you.

“Joel, why am I here?” You ask him again.

Sighing, so weary and tired, he looks down.

Feels like ages pass between you and him. The faint noise of the stadium leaks into the room muffled.

You think of your best friend waiting and of your own heart waiting to end this.

“Look, it was good to see you,” you half lie. “You did great, hope you and the girls take care”

You turn to walk out.

That’s when he blurts out your name and you stop.

“I miss you.” He exhales.

“Miss ya so g’damn much. Every fuckin’ day.” He mutters.

When you turn back around, he stares at you unwavering. You don’t know what to say.

“Seein’ ya out in the crowd…thought m’heart was gonna give out.” He barks a weak laugh.

“Almost stoppin’ the fuckin’ show just to make sure it was you… y’look beautiful as ever.” His eyes haze over slightly, almost nostalgic.

Suddenly a heated spark rips into your chest, jagged edged and angered.

“You broke up with me.” You snap, voice already raw.

“I know,” Joel nods. “Worst damn decision of m’life.”

Your lips tremble. Everything hurts like a live wire is burning up your veins.

“Then why? Why did you do it?” You croak. You want to scream, maybe even storm out and not even give him the chance to speak.

“What? Did Mr. Big Country Star hate having a partner that wasn’t famous too?” Venom leaks bitter and poisonous in your mouth, choking your throat.

“Y’know god damn well that ain’t it.” He snarls back hard.

“No actually I fucking don’t know Joel.” You reply with a fierce bite. “You so conveniently left out any real damn reason why you were breaking up with me.”

“I said our paths were going in separate directions.” He glares hard at you now.

“And that’s about it!” Your voice raises and you hate it.

The tears come quicker than you hoped for and you hate that more.

“No real explanation,” you exhale, wanting to stay as calm as you can. “You couldn’t even give me that…what else am I supposed to think?”

Even dabbing away your tears, your composure is slowly slipping.

“I couldn’t do this to you,” he breathes out and it’s broken. His eyes are shimmering obsidian pools.

“This life, all the fuckin’ mess that comes with dating someone in the limelight, I couldn’t just throw that on ya.” He explains and the truth rings out a quiet hum.

“And you didn’t think to talk to me about this?” You whisper out now hurt. “Joel, I thought we were a team.”

“We are- were.” He slips and corrects himself fast. “I just knew if we fuckin’ talked about it you wouldn’t have understood.”

“Understood what?” You’re frustrated and it leaks into your voice.

“That I didn’t want ya fuckin’ hatin’ me!” He finally screams the weighted truth.

Stunned quiet but still slightly confused, you ask Joel what he means.

Pain travels across Joel’s handsome face as his jaw clenches hard.

“This shit…it takes away a lot.” He croaks out. “Hell I’ve even missed things with the girls. Didn’t want ya sacrificin’ your life or wakin’ up one day and realizin’ how much you’ve lost ‘cause of me…couldn’t let myself do that to you.”

Your chest aches like a rocket got shot into you. You’re angry he took that chance for you to decide, but you understand.

Joel never wants to be the cause of pain to others, especially those he loves.

He agonizes so much over his decisions and how corrupting he believes he is. When in reality every action he takes you know simply stems from his endless deep devotion to keep those he loves safe.

His decision to end your relationship was him, in his own frustrating Joel way, trying to keep you safe. Even if it was from himself.

Your lips tremble and you cuss bitterly hard under your breath.

“You damn stupid man.” You hiccup. “I didn’t…I don’t care what life fame would’ve given me with you. I would never resent you. For better or worse I just wanted a life with you, that’s all I ever wanted.”

Through a few sobs, you wipe the tears fogging up your sight.

Before you can see it happening, strong sturdy arms suddenly wrap around you and shock you breathless. Curled in Joel’s arms, it’s like a sad coming home party and you cry even more.

“M’so sorry, my darlin’.” Joel whispers against your forehead.

“I hate you.” You don’t. Even on your hardest days, you never could.

“I know, hate my fuckin’ ass too.” Joel replies.

His arms squeeze you tighter.

“Never stopped lovin’ you. Never will.” His voice wavers and now your arms wrap around him.

“You left.” You whisper back so small while tears continue to prickle in your eyes.

“I know honeydew, ‘n I’ll never forgive myself for it.” He replies fiercely like a strike of lightning with its bright force. “Been a fuckin’ mess without ya. Tommy would be the first to agree and the girls too.”

You absorb his words, basking in the safe haven that is Joel. Hours, maybe days pass just in his arms.

“Please forgive me, baby.” He whispers hoarse against your head.

You nod a soft yes.

Because even the part of you that wants to yell and stubbornly say no knows the ultimate answer is, and always will be, him.

“Of course…I love you.” You mutter half dazed against his strong chest. “Love of my life.”

Pressed so close to him, you feel how hard he swallows and his arms squeeze you impossibly tighter against you.

He says your name and you hum out a soft noise.

“Marry me.”

Your eyes, which have sort of glazed over, snap open wide.

“What?” You mutter out, maybe think you misheard him.

“Marry me.” Joel repeats himself.

You practically squawk like a confused bird and scramble in his arms.

“Joel Miller, you can’t be serious?!” You shriek through the tears still lingering in your voice.

Your face snaps up to him. His face is composed, almost serene in a way as he look at you with molten eyes.

“Serious as that g’damn ring I bought ya.”

His words are a mumble but so soft and unwavering. Your soul leaves your body like you were thrown into a cold lake.

“You what?” You stammer out.

“Y’heard me.” He nudges his chin to you. “A ring. Bought it after you dropped everything to go take care of the girls when they got sick.”

Too many emotions overwhelm you and the tears return with a vengeance.

Joel, like a steady man in the storm, places his warm hand on your face to gather you back into his embrace. He places the softest kiss to the side of your head.

“We gotta have a chat about discussing your feelings with me more, Miller.” You manage to chide him through your tears.

“I know.” He mutters against your skin while he continues softly kissing you with utter tenderness. “‘N I’m not lettin’ ya go again.”

You squeeze him hard, trying to burn his memory into your arms worried you’re going to wake up and find this is just a heartbroken hallucination.

“Baby,” he begins.

“Hm?”

“Stay with me for the night.” He urges. “The bus got plenty of room-”

“Ooo, is this what you say to all your groupies, Mr. Miller?” You tease with a snort.

“Behave.” His hand playfully squeezes your hip but his underlying somber tone even with his chuckle ignites a familiar heat brewing in you of the times he’s reprimanded you like that before.

“No groupies.” Joel reassures you. “Only you sweetheart, only ever gonna be you.”

His words flutter into your heart and make a nest there.

Gently you draw back to stare at Joel. Your hand moves to his face, aching to just touch him. Even in his arms you’re waiting for him to vanish from your touch as if he’s a figment of your wrecked heart, a ghost of lovers past haunting you now.

But his stubble tickles against your palm. Running warm as usual, his face feels like a soft morning sun. Your thumb strokes his cheek and his eyes close, melting into your hold.

Gently you place a soft kiss against the corner of his lips.

Joel now tilts his head so he can deepen the kiss before you can even draw away.

It’s not a consuming passion that you expected. No frantic fierce clash of lips or an overflow from a year passed between you two.

Instead it’s a soft welcome home. It’s a kiss you’ve given him when he’s come home late or when you leave for work.

Because his blood, his soul, you believe are simply stitched into the very fabric of you. It’s like a piece of you is returning back to you, or maybe back to your other home with him.

“So you gonna stay with me?” He mumbles against your lips.

“I don’t know Miller, you haven’t even offered to sign anything for me. What kind of famous country singer are you?” You smirk against his lips.

He laughs, hearty, a true wild deep one sweeping you into its joy.

“Hell yeah I’ll fuckin’ sign something for ya, our marriage certificate.” He snaps in classic grumpy Joel fashion and you almost think about dragging him to a courthouse.

You text your friend a million apologies and even take pictures of all the signed merch you’re bringing back to her.

Now in the cocoon of Joel’s cozy bed on his tour bus, among the warmth sheets, you hold the ring up in the dim light inspecting it. Because of course your secretly romantic man kept the ring with him.

“You sure you weren’t keeping this around for someone else?” You ask.

“Fuck no.” He growls low. “S’yours…only yours.”

From behind his arms slide around you and you’re encompassed by his swallowing presence. His beard scrapes against your shoulder.

“If ya don’t like it, can get ya another one.” He mutters casually but hesitant softness peeks out from under his gruff tone.

“It’s perfect.” You reassure him.

It’s the ring Joel got you then and it’s the ring you want now and always will. You even tell him that.

The kisses places on your bare shoulder whispers of his devotion.

“Honey.” However, his voice now is hesitant and makes you pause on your ring inspecting.

“I gotta ask…but do ya have my armadillo keychain?” Joel asks with an utter somberness.

You burst out laughing and it shakes your body.

“Honeydew, I’m being serious!” He growls out. “Want that lil’ fella back!”

Wheezing with giggles you lean back against Joel, floating so blissfully floating in renewed adoration.

Twisting in his arms your lips find his.

“Tryin’ to distract me ‘cause you lost him, huh?” He mutters.

You snort, shaking your head.

“No I just love you so much, you dumb cowboy.” You tell him.

“Your dumb cowboy. For better or worse.” He vows, kissing you back firmer now.

“For better or worse,” you nod breathing into him.

In this carved out slightly cramped space it feels holy, sacred, chapel like. You’re even afraid it might be gone tomorrow morning. However, the ring on your finger is the steeled reassurance it isn’t going anywhere.

But, just in case, you gather this glory and Joel into your arms with the promise of never letting go.

#my heart is so full and I can’t thank yall enough I wish country singer Joel could perform for you personally in your living room #let’s rodeo fic series #country singer!joel miller #Joel miller x reader #Joel miller x f!reader #Joel miller fic #Joel miller fanfic #Joel 🤎

[loquaciousferret]

Country Lovin’

Summary: Pre-outbreak AU, you let yourself get picked up by a handsome stranger after your set playing at a local country bar. After giving you the night of your life, Joel Miller might just be your new muse.

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Content Warnings: 18+ ONLY, smut, alcohol consumption, drink driving. sex whilst intoxicated, use of pet names, unspecified age gap, unprotected sex. As always- maybe more! Read at own risk

A/N: I’m on a roll with Joel content at the minute, I don’t know why this specific scenario came to mind, but reader is a country singer performing at a bar where tommy and joel are drinking and joel flirts his way into bed with you… ahh! It’s also definitely the type of story I could see myself writing a part 2 for…! Enjoy…

P.S. count the Taylor Swift references throughout haha.

You finished your set to a healthy round of applause and a few cheers and whoops from the more intoxicated patrons of the bar. It wasn’t your first time playing in this particular bar, but it was your first time being invited to play a Saturday, and the feeling of playing to such a packed venue was incredible.

You lifted your guitar from your neck by the strap and placed it carefully in it’s case at the side of the small stage, before making your way over to the bar. As you stood there waiting to catch a bartenders attention and order something, you noticed a presence hovering close to your left side. You turned to face it and found yourself looking up into the eyes of a man, a handsome man. One who you had noticed had made eye contact with you numerous times throughout your set, whilst he had been throwing back glasses of scotch with another guy at a table close to the front of the stage.

“I’d hate to be the guy you wrote that last one about.” He smirked. “Sounds like he really fucked it up.”

You smiled, it wasn’t a compliment so you didn’t know what to say in return. Thanks wasn’t the right word. “Uh, yeah, um..” You mumbled, unable to find a suitable response.

“You’re incredible.” He said. “Let me buy you a drink.”

“Oh… Uh.” You blushed, so he had been flirting with his opening line?

“What’s your poison?” He asked, persistent.

“Something fruity.” You said back, which made him roll his eyes.

“Of course.” He remarked, but there was no hint of anything mean behind his words.

He attracted the barkeeps attention faster than you had, “Another scotch,” he pointed at his own glass. “And something fruity for the lady.”

You were distracted, your attention drifting around the bar. It was busy tonight with a crowd of all ages, a few groups of young people roughly your age, the majority middle-aged like the man you stood with, and some even older than that, some real old school guys. Similar to most country bars you would play at, but this one was special, one of the busiest in the city and the previous stomping ground of a number of major stars. Lots of people told you it was a stupid dream, but it was one you were holding onto well into your twenties whilst you finished college.

You realised you might be coming across as rude to the man who had bought you the drink you were waiting for, so you returned your attention to him, and found his gaze had never left you, he was staring down at you intently. You took in his features, a strong brow-bone, nose and sharp jaw. Dark brown messy hair with eyes to match, stubble and a defined moustache to top it off. Handsome in a rugged, properly Southern way.

“I haven’t seen you around.” He says. “I’m Joel.”

“It ain’t my first time, but it’s for sure my busiest night so far.” You said.

“You’re really incredible.” He said, repeating his words from before. Something about his eyes told you that he was genuine in his compliments, and that they weren’t just an attempt at flattery. But you sensed he was working that angle too.

You considered him carefully, and the sight from his perspective of you gazing up at him innocently through thick lashes, plump lips slightly parted, was enough to turn him on.

The bartender interrupted your intense staring contest, sliding you a drink that was a startling shade of crimson, with sugar round the rim, and for him, a rich amber liquid over rocks of ice.

“Cheers,” You offered, holding your glass out to him, and he returned the gesture, clinking the edges of the glasses. Some of the sugar from the edge of your glass transferred onto the rim of his scotch, offending his taste buds when he brought it to his lips, shuddering dramatically.

You giggled at his display and savoured the sweetness as you took your first sip.

“What you need drinks like that for anyway, darlin’? You’re already sweet enough to give some of us guys toothache.”

You rolled your eyes but gave him a laugh. These practiced lines must serve him well with most women in these establishments, and his gorgeous chocolate brown puppy dog eyes that hold your gaze as he delivers them certainly didn’t hurt either.

You found that the conversation flowed easily with Joel. He had the southern gentleman act perfected to a point, flirtation innocent enough to be plausibly deniable but certainly noticeable if you chose to lean into it. And you did find yourself doing so, loosening up with cocktail after cocktail, him knocking back scotches at an equally dizzying pace.

You weren’t sure how long you had been engrossed in his company when eventually you recognised the man he had been with earlier, approaching him from behind and putting a hand on Joel’s shoulder.

“Is that it, have I been subbed out as tonight’s company, Joel?” His cheeky tone suggested to you that Joel made a habit of this.

“Tommy,” Joel put an arm round him. He was a good few inches taller than the other man, Tommy, but they shared facial similarities, the same moustache, and dress sense. “Let me introduce you to my good friend here,” he said, turning to you.

Tommy grasped one of your hands in both of his, shaking it politely. “Pleasure to meet you, how do you do?” He shared Joel’s cheeky grin. “Helluva show you put on tonight.” He praised.

“You’re too kind.” You waved a hand bashfully. Most people assume that performers thrive on attention and praise but you have never quite gotten used to accepting the compliments that came your way during and after your shows, constantly a blushing mess whenever people congratulated you and fussed over how well you did.

“Make sure my brother takes care of you, alright? I’m gonna hit the road.” He said, offering you a wink before turning round to shake Joel’s hand. “I’ll catch you in the morning, buddy.”

A gesture of his head, indicating over his shoulder to a beautiful blonde who was stood a few metres away, twirling her curls between her fingers and watching Tommy with a smile on her face and a set of “Fuck-me” eyes if you had ever seen them. You laughed a little as you watched the brothers exchange a look. Joel’s eyebrows seemed to say well done.

You could tell he was a womaniser, a trait him and his brother clearly shared, and they didn’t mean to conceal it in any way, either. But as he had pointed out so astutely in his opening line, the heartbreak that was the inspiration behind your latest tracks had done quite a number on you, and so whilst it wasn’t in your usual nature… you were considering taking a risk on this devilishly handsome stranger tonight.

You laughed at his jokes and fluttered your eyelashes, more for your own fun as you knew he was already sold on you. But he was trying hard to chat you up and you had to give something in return to let him know he was getting somewhere.

You both kept up the pretence of waiting until it was polite to move closer together, for you to tease a light touch on his bicep and him on your upper thigh in return. His flirtations became more overt and eventually he was whispering them directly into your ear, his hot breath tickling you, his hands playing with your hair and pushing it back behind your shoulders to get a better view of your face.

He timed it perfectly right when you finished your 5th (or was it 6th?) drink, asking, “You got anyone waitin’ up for you at home?”

“No, Sir.” You blushed, happy with the subtext to his question.

“What do ya say you come home with me for a nightcap then, sweetness? Hm?” He brushed your cheek with his thumb and it took concentration to stay upright on your barstool and not melt into a puddle under his touch.

“Y-Yeah.” You stuttered, taking a deep breath as nerves hit despite having known all along the night was leading up to this point.

“I’m just a few blocks away, won’t take us long, beautiful.”

As you stepped out of the still crowded bar into the night air, you felt the alcohol dizzying you more. You stumbled slightly and Joel’s strong arms found their way around your waist, steadying you but then remaining there longer than necessary to guide you down the street, holding you close to his side.

You found yourself giggling at his jokes like a love-struck schoolgirl, constantly bashful under the compliments and affections that rolled off his tongue so naturally. He was certainly a charmer, there was no doubt about that.

After walking about a block, a small breeze hit and you found yourself shivering. He jumped back from you quickly to remove his jacket and drape it over your shoulders before slinging an arm around you again.

“I’m sorry beautiful, forgot to do that sooner.”

“Joel, you certainly have this gentleman act practiced to perfection don’t you now?” You teased.

“It ain’t an act,” He chuckled. “I am a proper southern gentleman.”

“A proper gentleman would never invite a lady home the night they meet.” You joked back.

“And a proper lady wouldn’t say yes.” He raised an eyebrow at you.

You gasped, pretending to be offended before shooting back. “I never claimed to be a proper lady, Joel. Don’t feel the need to treat me like one once you get me home.”

His smirk grew to a full on grin, he seemed pleasantly surprised at the confidence with which you delivered this remark. You had surprised yourself, too. Those drinks were stronger than you thought. Or maybe you were just drunk on him.

Before long you he was leading you up to a nice home, with a perfectly laid path, a well-tended lawn, and a sturdy wrap-around porch. You should have known, Joel was no boy leading you back to a crumby apartment, he was all man.

He fumbled with the keys in the darkness and got the door open after a few seconds, turning a light on and you took in the space. A fairly large open-plan layout, homey decor, family photos on the walls. You noticed lots of photos of a young teenager, a daughter? He hadn’t mentioned it. He followed your gaze and interrupted your thoughts, “Yeah, thats… That’s my daughter, Sarah.”

Your eyes must have widened in surprise and he reassured you, “She’s not here. She’s at my mother’s. And her mother, well… I ain’t seen her for over ten years.”

“O-Oh.” You stuttered, frowning. “I wasn’t- I.”

“No, it’s alright.” He scratched the back of his neck and chuckled awkwardly. “I just usually don’t lead with the fact I’m a single dad. Puts some women off.”

“It would take a good bit more than that to put me off you, Joel.” You stepped towards him, closing the gap between you, and he exhaled in relief.

“You need that nightcap, sweetheart?” He asked, voice low and breathless.

You shook your head slightly and he quickly acted, putting a hand under your chin, tilting your lips up towards his and connecting you in a kiss. It was sweet and gentle for a good few seconds before he reached up and removed his jacket from your shoulders, throwing it onto the kitchen island beside you and deepening the kiss, flicking his tongue against your lips. You opened your mouth and one of his hands held you by the back of the head, the other making its way to your waist.

He pushed you softly, leading you backwards down a corridor, breaking the hungry kiss only a few times to get the lights as you traveled through the house. Your hands explored his broad shoulders, his muscular chest, and his defined back. You wondered what he did for work. You imagined it had to be something physical for his body to be in such good shape, plus he seemed the type.

He reached out to open a door behind you and guided you in, kicking it closed again behind the two of you. He continued to guide you backwards until your legs hit against the foot of the bed and you sat down. He remained standing, his hand cupping your jaw and tilting it upwards to keep eye contact. His eyes were dark with lust and the sight of him above you like this was enough to make you squirm, pressing your thighs together, although the short dress you wore meant there was no friction between your legs to relieve the tension you felt. He smirked, watching you.

“Pretty dress.” He remarked, reaching behind you to unzip it. You reached up to him simultaneously, working at the buttons on his flannel shirt. As you undid them, it revealed tanned skin, a strong chest and core that wasn’t perfectly chiseled, rather he was clearly muscular but still soft. Dark hair trailed from his lower stomach into his jeans and you frantically tried to unbuckle his belt as he slipped the straps of your dress down your shoulders.

You were breathing heavily, the house was silent except for a clock ticking and the bed creaking with every moment.

His fingers toyed with the skirt of your dress and you reached down to grasp the hem, taking the initiative and pulling it over your head, leaving you in a white matching lingerie set. You thanked yourself for your choice of underwear despite it genuinely not having been your intention to put it on display tonight.

“Ain’t you a sight for sore eyes.” He breathed, leaning his head down to kiss you again. You blushed and threw your head back, and he continued to kiss, your throat, your collarbones, and the curve of your cleavage peaking out of your lace bra.

He unzipped his jeans and pushed them down his legs. His erect cock, pressing against his boxers, was level with your face. You made a concentrated effort not to open your mouth involuntarily at the sight. He must have caught the hungry expression in your eyes as he chuckled, “Patience, sweetheart.”

He discarded the jeans on the floor followed by his socks and pushed you until you lay back on his comfortable bed. As you breathed deeply you inhaled his rich musky scent that surrounded you. His mouth found its way to your neck again, peppering it with open mouthed kisses and applying light suction now and then. You rubbed your thighs together again, desperate for attention on the aching that grew in intensity between your legs. He was in tune with your body, noticing this and spreading them with a large, warm hand.

He pressed on you lightly through your underwear, cupping you and squeezing gently. You moaned a little and you could hear him exhale a breath of amusement. He liked the effect he was having on you.

You were fairly experienced but something about this handsome stranger had you writhing under him like a touch-starved virgin. This powerful, commanding, and dominant partner in bed was something you were yet to experience and you knew Joel would provide it.

He put a hand into your underwear and his fingers slipped through your wet folds. He let out a sigh at the sensation, “You’re soaked for me, gorgeous.”

You whined and lightly thrusted your hips up, grinding into his touch. This earned you a chuckle from him. Your eagerness turned him on like nothing else.

His exploration of you was painstakingly slow and you couldn’t help but plead “J-Joel.”

He obliged immediately, thrusting two fingers inside your wet hole. You moaned instantly at the sensation you had been waiting for.

“Y-Yes.” You gasped, and he picked up his speed, thrusting his fingers in and out of you, curling and scissoring inside of you to hit every spot of your tight walls.

“Oh, god. Yes, god, Oh m-“

“That’s not my name, baby.”

Joel and his one liners. You giggled but were quickly cut off into a gasping mess when he began hammering his fingers inside you at speed, inserting a 3rd one too. You felt his large erection pressing into you and felt grateful he wasn’t rushing through the foreplay.

“Will you let me taste you, baby?” He groaned quietly into your ear.

You released a strangled moan, utterly turned on by his request. It felt intimate for a one-night stand but you found yourself nodding eagerly, keen to please him and let him take whatever he likes from your body.

He quickly moves downwards, hooking a finger into each side of your panties and dragging them down your hips. Freeing them from your legs, and reaching up above your head, tucking them safely under the pillow.

He spreads your legs apart with two strong hands and you gasp in anticipation as he closes in on you, connecting his lips to your clit, softly sucking, kissing, dragging his tongue through your folds down to your leaking entrance and back up again to repeat. His stubble and moustache rubbed pleasantly against you, tickling you as he worked at you with his mouth.

After a while, he added his hand, intensifying the sensations he was giving you. He curled his fingers lazily inside of you, slowly torturing your sensitive insides and not reducing any of the attention he was giving your clit, continuing to flick his tongue against it violently, strong hands forcing your hips down to keep still on the bed where your body was naturally writhing and grinding up against him.

As he continued, your string of helpless moans increased in volume and became less words and more garbled curses and sounds.

“Oh, Joel.” A strangled moan left you and he hummed back in response, sending a vibration through your clit where his mouth was attached to you, making you shudder and gasp. The intensity of the pleasure he was giving you had tears welling in the corner of your eyes.

His prowess allowed him to sense when your orgasm was coming when you did, gripping the curls at the back of his head and pulling him closer to you- if that was possible.

“You gonna cum for me, sweetheart?”

You nodded enthusiastically, panting his name and as he increased the pressure on your clit, sucking slightly harder and fucking you with his fingers slightly faster, you felt your orgasm building, hot ropes of tension in your stomach, and down each limb.

After a few more seconds you snapped, practically screaming his name. He slowed down his fingers but didn’t stop as he licked wide stripes up and down your entire pussy as if he was cleaning you up. You shivered as the overstimulation was sending you crazy, his stubble tickling you and giving you goosebumps on your thighs.

“Please,” You begged him, pushing his head away slightly. You looked down at him through hazy eyes and saw something erotic; the sight of his mouth and moustache glistening wet with your juices, and him looking back up at you grinning like a devil.

You had never slept with a man who had prioritised your pleasure in this way, making you orgasm before you had even touched him. This was intoxicating, and you felt as though what should have been a simple one night stand with Joel may lead to you becoming hooked on him.

As your sensitive parts took time to recover, he was slipping out of his boxers. A large and hard erection stood up , slapping his lower stomach and leaking pre-cum from its pinkish red tip. Your jaw dropped at the size.

“Close that mouth sugar before I fill it up.” He growled.

The gentleman act was over. As you had requested, Joel wasn’t going to treat you like a lady in the sheets. Your eyes still widened in surprise and you saw him smirk at the effect his words had on you.

“You ready to take this cock, hm?” He asked, grasping it and dragging the tip through your wet folds, circling your clit before taking it back down to nudge at your entrance.

You nodded and pushed your hips up towards him but this earned you a light slap on your upper thigh. “Uhuh,” He scolded. “Use your words, darlin’. Tell me what you want.”

You moaned as he slowly tortured you by continuing to grind the head of his hard cock against you, giving you pleasurable friction but nothing close to what you desired which was his cock buried deep inside you.

“Please, Joel.” You begged in an erotic tone that you were surprised to hear coming from yourself. It practically sounded fake and exaggerated the way you were panting and pleading for him. “Need you to fuck me Joel need you to fill me up, please, ah-”

He cut off your speech by pressing the tip into your entrance slowly, earning a gasp from you. It hadn’t even been that long since you last got laid but his sheer size would take some getting used to.

“Good girl. Thank you for asking so politely.” He continued to push into you, his own breathing faltering as he did so.

You moaned loudly at the sensation of his wide cock spreading you open, stretching your tight hole around him. “Please, Joel.”

“Jesus christ baby girl,” he groaned. “I’d give you the world if you asked like that.”

You pulled him close to you by wrapping your hands around his back and the back of his neck, kissing him messily as he began to slowly thrust in and out of you. It was a welcome sensation but the aching inside of you was craving more. You wiggled your hips against his to increase the tension and he chuckled.

“So greedy.” He taunted, slapping your breast lightly with a hand he has been using to toy with your nipple.

He gave in to your silent demands, increasing the force of his thrusts, and you moaned loudly every time he bottomed out, reaching the perfect spot inside you and stretching you out so pleasurably. His hands came down to wrap around your hips and, gently at first, he pulled you towards himself in sync with each thrust. This earned louder moans from you, and your expressions as he watched you from above could have made him spill inside you right then and there. You were absolutely gorgeous and the tortured but positively blissed out look on your face as he had his way with you was awakening a primal level of desire inside him.

“Play with those tits for me, gorgeous.” He asked, and you reached out both hands to cup each tit, pinching your nipples between your thumb and forefinger, rolling them. Pushing your tits together and moaning, biting your lip and releasing strangled moans as he fucked you at a relentless pace.

You were certainly a performer, he noted, whilst he was in control here, there was nothing passive about your role, putting on an erotic display for his eyes only. A thought intruded into his mind that he tried hard to push away- I never want any other man to see her like this again.

He pulled out unexpectedly and you looked up at him questioningly, but he quickly answered by grabbing your hips and flipping you onto your front, dragging your body up so you were on your hands and knees. So, he would play dirty. You wiggled your ass for him in anticipation and he groaned at the sight, grasping one cheek hard with his large hand.

He guided his cock into you and wasted no time slamming himself fully in. This angle helped you appreciate his size and was hitting something impossibly deep within you. He set an aggressive pace that had you nearly screaming, and you struggled to keep yourself upright and steady on your hands. Your back arched and his view was perfect of your tanned skin, light tanlines visible on your lower back.

He grunted loudly, the sounds of both of you vocalising, skin slapping, and the bed creaking violently, filled the once silent house.

“I can’t get enough of you, baby.” He praised. You couldn’t respond, intense pleasure rendering you speechless, only able to produce strings of moans.

“I’m gonna come,” He announced, his thrusts remained forceful but his rhythm faltered and with a grunt he pulled out. Your pussy clenched, the feeling of emptiness with the absence of his cock was unwelcome.

With a few strokes of his fist, you heard him groan loudly as he released a warm load of his cum onto your ass and lower back. He stayed still for a moment, catching his breath as well as appreciating the sight of you beneath him, covered in his seed. He let out a loud sigh and you felt him move away from his position behind and eventually, felt the weight on the mattress shift as he stood up. He proceeded to open a door and came out with tissues and a wet towel, cleaning you off with both. You allowed yourself to relax into the intimate moment, the weight of you sinking into the comfortable mattress as he took care of you.

He reached up under the pillow, grabbing your underwear where he had stashed it before and gently lifting your legs to guide it back up your body. He crawled into the bed too, pulling the covers from beneath you and tucking you both in.

“I’d like you to stay.” He whispered into the space between you.

You hummed. He seemed so genuine, it wasn’t an offer he was giving out of obligation, or an I guess you can stay if you have to- Joel was open and honest and told you what he wanted.

“And I’d like it if you would give me your number.” He added.

You nuzzled your face closer into his chest, feeling comforted by his strong, warm body.

“I was afraid you’d never ask.” You muttered, kissing his neck softly as he tightened his grip around you, holding you close to him.

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller #tlou show #tlou #the last of us #tlou fanfic #tlou smut #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fic #the last of us fanfic #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfic #pedro pascal smut #the last of us smut #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction

[cowgurrrl]

Smile You’re on Camera

Pairing: rockstar!joel miller x actress!reader

Summary: You meet Joel for the first time [1.7k]

Author’s note: this is mostly exposition but I’m actively writing their first date so that’ll probably go up tomorrow or even as early as tonight 🥸

Warnings: quick FAKE violence, Joel being an asshole, language, questionable Hollywood motives

"You always fucking do this!" You yell, slamming down the book in your hands. The man across from you throws his arms up in defeat and scoffs. 

"Are you serious right now?" He asks, and your jaw clenches at his tone. "Jesus Christ, you're being insane."

"Don't call me that!" 

"Then stop acting like it!" He yells, getting in your face. Your breathing is shaky as you stare into his eyes. He's close enough that you can smell the detergent on his shirt. You're unflinching when he gets even closer, forcing you back. "Your mom was right. You're more trouble than you're worth." Before the words can even completely leave his mouth, you spit in his face. He grabs your arms and pushes you down on the couch. You kick and scream the whole way down, proving how much trouble you can really be. 

"Cut!" The director shouts from his chair, and Ryan helps you off the couch. You laugh as he throws a fake punch in your direction and walks over to the director's chair to rewatch the scene. It looks great, and Ryan gives you a solid high-five in celebration. You're both so excited about how the movie is coming out, and you can't wait to film the rest. You do a few more takes before breaking for lunch. 

The second you sit down, your inbox lights up with an email from your PR manager, Melanie. URGENT MEETING TOMORROW AFTERNOON, the subject line reads. You sigh and open it, already moving your schedule around in your mind as you skim through her words. Something about it not being a skippable meeting. "This could change the trajectory of your career," she writes. You respond back, telling her you'll be there, but she has to be the one to tell your director the schedule needs to change. 

You log onto Twitter and see something about a singer, Joel Miller, attacking paparazzi for something. You're not sure. You've bumped into him several times on red carpets, and you like a handful of his songs. He has a big, gritty voice with an endearing country accent. He's handsome and, from what you've heard, a really great guy. You haven't gotten the chance to speak more than two words to him because every time you see him, there's some beautiful woman draped on his arm, and he doesn't even look at you. Which is fine. You're still new to the industry, and you're used to people giving you the cold shoulder as a form of hazing. It sucks, but it's not like things will change overnight. 

You scroll through a few pictures of Joel's fist connecting with the cameraman's nose, his big hands delivering a devastating blow. You've had your fair share of run-ins with paparazzi, but you're not someone who can punch a guy with a camera just because you feel like it. You would almost immediately be labeled another insane actress who has gone off the rails. Irrational. A spiteful bitch. All of it. But men like him get twenty seconds of shit online before they're forgiven and even praised for holding their own.

You roll your eyes, put your phone on the charger, and leave your trailer to return to set. The rest of the day goes off without a hitch, and the AD only gave you a little shit for messing with the schedule. You would take it more personally if you hadn't been doing this for long enough to know better. Scenes will still get filmed, people will still get paid, and the movie will still get made. Besides, a backhanded comment from a shitty AD isn't worth your energy. 

When you get home, the only thing you hear about and see on every single platform is Joel Miller punching the fuck out of that paparazzi guy. Now, there are pictures of him talking to cops but not looking especially guilty about what he'd done. His bruised knuckles are the only evidence that anything went down on his end. The reaction is polarizing. Some people are saying that violence is never the answer. Others are saying he was justified. Some are even saying how hot it is. Still, there's no real reason why he went after that guy. You probably scrolled through social media for an hour trying to figure out what happened. It's midnight by the time you realize you still haven't showered and have done virtually nothing to get ready for bed. 

You drag yourself off the couch and up to your shower, finding new bruises from the scene you filmed today, and make a mental note to talk to the fight choreographer. You need to do a million things, and they all fill your brain the second you try to lie down. You hope this career-changing meeting isn't riding on whether or not you can come in looking well-rested, but Hollywood has done shittier things.

The next day, you drive to the meeting place Melanie set up for you and notice several paps being held back by security across the street. It's not unusual for your schedule to get leaked to paparazzi, so you don't think anything about it, but there's a good handful of them. They yell at you as you enter the building and you offer a wave, bou can't understand why there are so many just to photograph you attending a stupid meeting. As you walk toward the meeting room, you hear loud voices arguing. You don't recognize either of them and fight your anxiety to open the door. 

Joel Miller and another man are there yelling at each other. It's a tangle of voices, and you can't distinguish one thing from another. You wonder if maybe you walked into the wrong conference room and make to leave when Joel catches a glimpse of you. He rolls his eyes and gestures at you like you are a nuisance. "Now, who's this?"

"She is going to single-handedly get you out of this mess!" The other man shouts. You've heard enough of these conversations to gather that the other man is Joel's manager. 

"And how do you expect her to do that?"

"You guys are going to date," his manager says, and you immediately look to Melanie for confirmation. She just nods. "For the cameras, of course. Just until the heat comes off of Joel, and then you guys can do whatever the hell you want."

"Was anybody going to ask my opinion in all this?" You ask. 

"I wouldn't put you in this situation unless I knew it would benefit you. Actresses do this all the time! It's good publicity, and it could catch the director's eyes." Melanie says, trying to comfort you, but frustration is already buried in your chest.

"This is ridiculous." You scoff, rubbing your forehead, already feeling the headache traveling over your skull.

"Yeah, it is pretty fuckin' ridiculous." Joel agrees, and his manager grabs his shirt collar and gets in his face. 

"Do you want the press to leave your family alone or not?" His manager snaps, and something in Joel softens. He takes his manager's hands off of him and takes deep breaths as he thinks. You're trying to figure out what you're supposed to do or if you're even supposed to do anything.  

"What d'we have to do?"

"Go on a couple dates, post a few pictures, and act madly in love for the cameras. Tabloids will eat that shit up." Melanie explains. You blink at her and glance between her and the men.

"For how long?" You ask.

"Couple months."

"I don't know if I can do this."

"I thought you were an actor," Joel says, vitriol lacing his words, and you furrow your brows at him.

"I am, but I prefer not to bring my work into my personal life."

"I hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but this is how the industry works. If you don't like it, I'm sure we can find someone else who would happily take your place."

"What the fuck is your problem?"

"My problem is-"

"Stop it! Both of you!" Joel's manager yells. "You need to get it together and do this. If you can't find a reason to do it to save your fucking career, do it for your kids. Huh? What about that, Joel?" 

"Fine!" Joel shouts back. He huffs and grabs a pen from his manager's pocket. "Give me the goddamn paperwork," Melanie doesn't hesitate to slide the contract to him, and he doesn't so much as glance at the words before signing his name on the line and throwing the pen down. "I'll pick you up at seven tomorrow night. How's that sound, sweetheart?" He grumbles without even looking at you as he leaves the room. The door slams behind him, and a few minutes later, you hear the paparazzi outside get louder as he exits the building. You, however, can't move. You feel like the wind got knocked out of you, and you look between the two managers.

"You want me to pretend to be in love with him?" You ask. Melanie opens her mouth to say something but stops, obviously unable to find something to salvage the situation. "This is fucking insane."

"I promise, he's not normally like that. He's just under a lot of stress." His manager says, and you scoff.

"That doesn't give him the right to speak to me like that."

"You're right, okay? You're absolutely justified in hating him, but think about what this could do for you. We're talking blockbuster movies, first pick at whatever script you want, invitations to the Met Gala, the Oscars, all of it," Melanie says, putting her hands on your arms to show you how serious she is. You sigh. Those things would be huge for your career, and you're not sure when you'll get another opportunity like this. "It's only a couple months. Think of it as an acting exercise."

"I don't have to sleep with him or anything, right?"

"Only if you want to, honey." 

"Oh, I doubt I'll ever want him to do more than kiss me after that," you say. You take a deep breath and shake your head as you think. There are a million reasons why you should do this, but there are about two million reasons why you shouldn't. He's arrogant, annoying, and dismissive, and that's just what you gathered from your first conversation. Still, maybe you won't have to interact with him that much. Maybe you can get through this and then never have to talk to him again. Maybe this is what changes everything. Going against your better judgment, you look at Melanie and nod. "Okay, I'll do it."

#rockstar!joel miller #the last of us #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #joel tlou #the last of us x reader #joel miller the last of us #joel miller fluff #joel miller au #the last of us au #tlou au #joel miller x female reader #joel miller series #one for the money two for the show

[mybworlds]

CHAPTER 5

status: ongoing

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: your life is full of 'must'. You live with your overprotective mother who controls every aspect of your life. You have a dream, to write romance novels, but love - real love - you haven't found yet. Your mother has even decided what you must do in your free time: play music. One day, however, when you go to your music teacher's house, you will have an unexpected encounter and from that day on things change…

Masterlist

rating: 18+ explicit (minors, DNI)

Before to start... thank you for your support, if you like it pls leave a like/comment/reblog it, if you don't like it don't be rude and keep going. Please remember English is not my first language, so please be merciful!

Thanks @vase-of-lilies for the banner

Joel takes great care of you, prepares the fire, he carries you by the fire, he gives you his blanket although you don't want to, you finally manage to convince him to share it. It's a very large blanket that can wrap both of you. You feel good although the temperature is freezing outside.

"You are a really sweet person, why are you alone?" you ask him biting your lower lip feeling sorry you asked something so personal "Sorry. None of my business." you add with a sigh.

You watch him shaking his hands nervously. Maybe you made him uncomfortable and you're deeply sorry. You're okay with him, a lot, and so you feel sorry even more considering how he always made you comfortable. Except maybe the first time you met.

You stay silent, the only sound the crackling of the fire. Maybe neighter of you wants to break the silence. Or can.

"Actually, I was in love. A long time ago." he tells you "Her name was Jess, her name is Jess." he glances down at his hands holding in a nervous gesture.

"Where is she now?" you ask him genuinely curious.

He looks at you "She left."

"Why?"

He smiles "Are ya a snoop dogg, aren't ya?"

"Sorry, none of my business." you reply glancing down, but the truth is curiosity is killing you. You want to know, you want to know Joel, his true self, what's behind those dark eyes, over that face, you really want to know him.

You feel him smile "No, don' worry. She's a singer, a pop-country singer, she always wanted to travel, she didn' want to stay in the same place for more than a year or two. For a while, I was with her, but then-- it's over." he tells you watching the fire.

"Didn' you love her anymore?" you ask.

He looks at you "Love turns, with time it changes. Don't know if I wasn't in love with her anymore or if I was tired 'bout that life and I needed something else. Anyway, she left. Alone." he says glancing down "That's why, as I said, I wish you a non-tragic love that makes you happy. If that's the one and if that's what you want." he adds taking a look laden of words.

"Have you ever tried to have her back?" Maybe-- catching up?" you ask trying to silence that persistent little voice inside you that makes you eager to know the man next to you, the way he makes you feel so special and wanted.

"Sure. I reached out to her twice and we met halfway once and once again at my house." he takes a break "Make love to her, it was like nothing has changed and for a while our problems looked far or solvable, almost." he takes a break again barely squeezing his lips "Then, our problems started again which means we returned to our lives."

"And you like this life?" you ask without looking away from his face.

"You're just full of questions, aren't you?" he asks.

You glance down "It's just-- if I can help you, I'm glad."

"How'd you help an old guy like me?" he asks you amused.

You return his smile "You're not an old guy, Joel! I mean, you are much younger than many young people I know!" you say looking away and watching the fire.

"And how'd I be? How do ya see me?" he asks.

Your heart loses a beat. You don't want to say inappropriate or easily misunderstood words. You don't answer, delay on the answer, you bite your lower lip and then you answer "You're a good man, you've a good heart. Although, you do everything to keep others away, but I'll tell you more, you're no good."

"Really? Is this how you see me? As a good man?" he asks you "What if it's not my true self?" you swallow "If it's just a mask?"

"It's not." you reply "I met a lot of masks, Joel, and your is a true face. I wonder how much pain you had to endure to be so hard. On me, on the others-- on yourself." you say holding his gaze.

"You're a sweet kid, y'know." he says and only then you fulfill he's looking insistently your lips, what if...?

Oh, Gosh!

Your phone's buzzing. Once, twice, ten times. Only then you remember you turned on vibration, you look away unwillingly and unlock your phone finding several messages, among them at least a dozen are of your mother.

Some messages saying "Where are you?", "Why don't you answer when I call?", "Do I need to call the police?", "Pick up the phone or you are going nowhere for a month!"

"Oh, shit."

"What's wrong?" he asks noticing your concerned look.

"My mum, I've to call her." you answer dialing her number.

Your mum is really mad at you and when it happens, she calls you using your full name, then she starts to ask different questions, and none of them are good. She starts to say that she believed you were kidnapped or thrown somewhere and you once again tell her you're not a kid anymore, but rather an adult lady.

Your mother is really furious and she says she must be warned about where, when, how and with whom you want to plan an evening out. Then, she starts to ask where you are and with whom.

You lie, you can't tell you're with Joel in the woods, she'd make contact with the military! You’re at the home of one of the girls at a last minute sleepover, you say looking to Joel who raise both eyebrows with a puzzled and amused look. You have to look away or you'd tell the truth, knowing you.

Put her on the phone, she asks, but you tell her she's in the shower and you're choosing a movie to watch together later.

She believes you.

Or at least you hope so.

"So, I'd be a friend, a girl?! What would my name be?" he asks when the phone call is over, you're going to answer, but he adds smiling "Don' wanna know. I've told my parents lies too when I was younger, much younger!" he cries out making you smile.

Once again your phone vibrates, it's the chat with your friends.

"Sis, where r u?" it's Kristen, a very sweet and supportive friend, maybe she's the one who looks like you character and physically.

"R u with your hunk?" it's Helen, you blush turning toward Joel who looks at you with a smile, and luckily he doesn't read your chat.

"Which hunk?" it's Gina, your friend lover of the pleasures of sex.

"Today a man came to the bar and he started to ogle her!" Helen writes.

"OH MY GOD! I WANT A PICTURE OF HIM, I MUST GIVE AN OPINION!" Gina adds.

"For you, r they making things...?" asks Helen.

You decide to write something "Hello girls, I'm in a cabin in the woods. Yes, I'm with him. The hunk - as u call him - his name is Joel and he's a very sweet man."

"MAN?!?! HOW OLD IS HE???" it's Gina again.

"He's in his late 40s."

"U r soooooooo lucky!" Gina writes "Men of that age have sooo much experience, he will make u cum and have fun. Let him teach you something useful-- ;) Kids our age are so boring." you won't answer anymore, you lock the screen. You're purple, not red.

"What's up? You're all flush. Problems?" Joel asks.

"Have you ever had such an embarrassing group of friends that sometimes you want to pretend not to know?" you ask him without answering.

"Yes."

"Well, there are two of them, they made inappropriate comments." you say shaking your head.

"About whom?"

You feel stupid and now what do you say? About you?

Of course not.

"About me and my total inexperience of any kind." you answer feeling your cheeks blush and carefully avoiding his look.

You just told him you’re a virgin. Great!

"Forget 'bout your friends, now." he says "Brought you something, well for the both of us. Got it this morning and I put it to warm." he says showing two bags, he gives you one.

You open it curious and you see in the bag a croissant with honey, your favourite. You turn toward him giving him a kiss on the cheek and putting your hands on the back of his neck "Thank you."

You feel him smiling and kiss you on your forehead.

No one has ever done it before. Get a kiss on the forehead has always been the most beautiful gesture for you, even better than a kiss on the lips. For you it always meant protection, love, respect.

You close your eyes when you get this kiss, you back up an inch or two, finding yourselves at a small distance.

Will he kiss you? Or will you - even with all your inexperience - kiss him?

You watch every line, every curve, the look in his eyes, every little wrinkle and you find him irresistibly attractive. Life is really strange, you think again. It's a recurring thought now.

He doesn't kiss you neither do you. He smiles at you and invites you to eat, even if you’re not hungry anymore.

The rest of the evening you spend it by the fireplace sometimes giving you dumb looks, you sometimes tell him jokes - or what your friends say are jokes - and you see him holding back the smile sometimes and try to be serious, but his wrinkles in the corners of his eyes and lips betray him and you cannot help but laugh and drag him in a contagious laughter.

You're sure, you're fond of him.

You spent many hours together and in such a short time that makes you think your relationship is changing with certainty. Maybe it's too soon, maybe not, but the truth is everything is going too fast and you often don't even have time to focus on the situation.

He takes you to bed and he lays you on the blanket, "How's your knee doin'?" he asks you sitting on the bed next to you.

You smile at him "Less painful." you answer watching him.

"Good, so I go. 'night." he says getting up and moving away.

"Joel!"

He stops "Stay." you tell him surprise of your own request, he gives you a look "For sleeping." you clarify with a tone that had to be sure, but it's actually trembling and unsure.

He smiles at you soothing.

"Sure." he adds "I've a warm blanket for you too. We sleep with all our clothes on." he clarifies interpreting your fear about how you'd have slept.

You feel the bed to bend under his weight. On one hand you don't have the courage to turn your gaze to him, on the other hand you want to see him in the bed. At such a personal moment, you wonder how he is...

There's a flood outside, thunders echoing around the cabin, lightnings continuously illuminate the room. You close your eyes, but you can't sleep. You climb into your blanket, you can't sleep and not just because of the storm.

"You can't sleep, can you?" he asks you.

You turn toward him and you watch him lying on his back. His eyes are open and an arm under his head.

"No." you answer "Maybe it's because of the bed, I'm not used to sleeping in another bed except mine."

"Yes, maybe." he replies "Sure." he adds staring at the ceiling.

"What about you?" you ask watching him.

"Was thinking." he answers.

"'bout?"

"Your earlier question" you try to remember about this question that took away his sleep "if I like this life."

"Joel, I didn't mean to upset you, 'm sorry."

You see him smile "Babygirl, it's been years since I don't ask myself existential questions, then you came along and you turned everything upside down." he admits "I didn't believe that meet my bro' student would turn everything!"

"I'm..." you are not sure about what to say if you have to apologize or just listen to him.

"Thank you," he says "For being here with me, for knocking on that door, for not having left everything immediately. You brought a sweet wind into my life." he adds.

In a rush which surprises even you, you surround his chest with an arm and you lay your head close to his own on his pillow.

"You're sweet even in these reactions, little girl." he says turning his head toward your. You are once again forehead against forehead.

Your heart pounds, your eyes are shut, it's in that position that you fall asleep.

That night, that's the first night you've a dirty dream, you dream about kiss him and be kissed by him, you dream about his hands caresses your whole body, you dream to get lost in his eyes and let you go to his caresses.

When you wake up, you realize your breathing is short and sweating all over.

Joel seems not to have noticed anything, he sleeps peacefully. His face turned towards you, lips parted, his brown hair falls in disorder on the forehead, his wrinkles barely hinted, he's so peaceful and sweet while he sleeps, but you feel there's something he doesn't say that hurts him deeply.

You'd like to caress his face, but you can't. You don't want to disturb his sleep.

You smile before you realize you're all wet between your legs. You feel something you've never felt before: your most intimate part throbbing and clenching thinking about your dream. You never felt something like this before.

Your breath breaks, for the first time you wish someone would touch you and let you feel all those feelings that probably you should've already felt. You don't touch yourself, you wouldn’t know where to start and especially not with him so close. The thought he might wake up makes you shake while you're watching what's happening to you right now.

You breathe deeply through your mouth more and more times, trying to put that feeling away, that desire to be touched, not by anyone, by him, by the wonderful man lying next to you, Joel.

In the morning, you find yourself wrapped in your blanket and in an arm that holds you tightly to himself, you feel his strong grip and you can’t help but put your hand on his arm and hold you closer to him, feel that body so warm near your makes you feel so safe, but at the same time you feel out of place, vulnerable.

You get up gently moving his arm and you watch him turning on his back, lips parted and his face relaxed, you want to kiss him. Yes, for the first time you wish to kiss someone in your life. You have to. Your heart pounds, you look down and you think you’re going crazy to have such a desire. An unknown and strong desire is growing inside you.

However, you decide to regain control over your mind and body, you get up. You go in the bathroom and you wash your face with cold water and you think, when you're in town, to look for Jack.

You decide to go around the cabin, look at the many ornaments and then your look falls on the many photos: some photos portray those who are perhaps his parents, others portray two brothers in the mountains, to the lake on two kayaks - Joel has the oars raised and a triumphant expression on the face, Tommy a sad one, maybe they were having a race! - then other photos portray two children who you recognize as Joel and Tommy. Finally, you find two photos different from those of the family: a photo portrays a much younger Joel, maybe he was in his 25 or 30s, and a woman with olive skin and dark curly hair - maybe this woman was his wife!

You take the photo in your hands and you watch at the woman's face, she looks happy, she's beautiful. Then, your gaze falls on the man, on Joel, he's a different man than you know today, not just for his youth, above all his expression is sweet, peaceful, you'd dare to say adoring.

Another photo portrays an happy family at the beach: Joel is with a woman and a baby in the middle with arms pointing upwards and a huge smile on their faces.

"We were really happy that day." Joel says behind you making you jump and by instinct you hide the photo.

His gaze is dark, his hair a messy clump of dark curls, you don't think is angry, but for sure he's not happy to see you snooping through his stuff.

You open your mouth, you're going to apologize but then you change your mind and decide to ask him "What happened to you two? Really, I mean."

You dare, he could rail against you and throw yourself out of that cabin, but he doesn't.

You notice an inner battle on his face, you watch him uncertain if answer you or give you a vague answer, then he sighs loudly and pass his hand in his hair "Y' want to write romance novels, aren't ya?" you nodd "I hope you won't write about my story." you see him swallow "You'd write about a man who has everything and then everything breaks. There's no way to put the pieces together, many pieces miss that don’t match what’s left. End of it." he ends shrugging his shoulders with a bitter tone.

You put the photo down "One day maybe if you want, you can tell me what destroyed everything." you say head down "I'll get the phone, then when you want, we can go."

You overcome him, well you're going to, but he locks you for your wrist "Wait."

You look him in the face and only then he looks up at you, at your eyes "You're exasperating, you're intriguing, you sometimes talk too much, this sweetness of yours sometimes gives on my nerves." he says leaving you speechless, you don't know how to feel about it "but you are the only one I brought here after... and I never shared this place with anyone if not with the people important to me and you, little girl, you got in my heart so fast that---" his voice cracks "I hope I never lose you." he adds.

Those words surprise you.

You feel the same way about him, but you didn't believe he felt the same way. You thought it was a your impression, but it's not.

Your heart pounds. You don't know what his - or your - next move will be, if he goes further or if he will address you only other words of thanks. These events almost shock you.

He grabs gently your face with both hands sticking his fingers in your hair and he gets close to you carefully, he kisses your forehead in another very sweet gesture and you, once again, close your eyes laying your hands on his.

You take a deep breath feeling the scent of his skin and you're almost enchanted, you just squeeze more grip on his warm big hands, he puts his forehead against your and for a moment you find yourself thinking about what it would be like if you could be with him, love him, be loved by him, protected by a man like him. But then, the reason prevails and makes you think that surely a man like him doesn't need an insecure girl, but a strong woman who knows what she wants, just like his ex.

"Please, take me home." you ask squeezing your eyes and holding your breath. if you hadn’t made this request maybe he would have kissed you, but you don't want. Well, it’s not that you don’t want to be kissed by him, you just think you'd feel inadequate around him.

"As you wish." he says by taking his face away from your and then Joel moves away to open the window and look at the sky.

Luckily for you, the sun is up and the birds are chirping.

Part of you started breathing normally again, the other has the feeling that something - well, someone - sucked the air out of your lungs. Your heart beats fast, but why do you always have to complicate things?

Since he dropped you off, you didn't look for him nor for your guitar lessons nor for other reasons. You need to put some space between the two of you, maybe your bond is tightening too much and too fast.

You looked for Jack, from the beginning he was happy to see you, he was very friendly and affectionate. Indeed, he told you he almost didn’t hope to see or hear you again, he says he was almost jelous of your music teacher because he could see you almost every day. You, of course, didn’t tell him about the strange relationship you've with Joel.

You don't think it's necessary, there's nothing to tell!

He invites you to go to a nearby town to have breakfast together, to chit-chat and get to know you better. You immediately accept, you want to know him, but above all remove the thought of Joel as soon as you can from your head first and your heart then.

Jack tells you about his family, his hobbies, he tells he has got a dog - Lex - a wonderful white Labrador - is 3 years almost and he loves her with all his heart and every time she sees him wagging his happy tail, you smile with him. Often. You speak a lot, even about little things, your everyday life, you tell him about your mother and your job. It's easy talk to him, it's easy as breathing. There's a chemistry from the jump. He's sweet, he's caring, any girl would have been fascinated and would have fallen in love. Time flies between a chat and another.

But in a remote corner of your head, Joel, his eyes, his strong scent flowing almost in you and you know that's not good, but you can't help but thinking about him, especially when you and Jack speak about music, your jobs, about your families.

Your smile never fades from your face when you're with him, when Jack rides you home, he gives you a little kiss on your cheek and he says "I had a great time with you. Can I have a second date?" he says so softy that it's impossible for you to refuse. And besides, you don't want to. After all you have been good together.

Slowly you climb the stairs rethinking about the afternoon just gone, you think about Jack's eyes and then you goes to Joel's sweet and reassuring eyes and the way his eyes become two dark pools when he's gloomy. You sigh, Jack can’t fade the Miller.

You put the key in the lock and you come in your house, you take off your scarf and coat, your boots and you wear your slippers, then you go to the kitchen, but you freeze on the door---

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel tlou #joel miller hbo #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #the last of us hbo #joel miller self insert #the last of us #joel fic #the last of us fanfiction #joel the last of us #pedro pascal #pedro pascal as joel miller #smut #joel x f!reader #joel x female reader #joel x you #dom!joel #dom!joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller angst #soft!joel miller #bittersweet ff

[mrsmandalorian]

mrsmandalorian's main masterlist

howdy, everyone! i'm so happy to see you!

i'm maddie! i'm 22, she/her! i am the most serious and unserious person you will ever meet. I'm obsessed with pedro pascal, marvel, star wars, and so on. i'm just a goofy nerd, honestly!

if you enjoy my work, please leave a like, comment, or reblog to show your love for it! also, if you are reading this, please comment on your favorite characters in any movie or TV show, not just Pedro's work, but any! requests are always open!

my blog is 18+ — mdni. warnings & tags can be found on each work of mine. do not copy, translate, repost, or put my writing into AI in any capacity.

Pedro Pascal

Nonsense --pedro x singer!f!reader

Joel Miller

Country Nights, City Lights - part 4 coming soon -- cowboy!joel x techie!f!reader series Burning Love=TBA

Din Dijarin, Mandalorian

Help=TBA

Javier Pena

TBA

more stories and characters to come! appreciate you all very much!

-🤍- maddie

#pedro pascal x reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal fanfiction #din dijarin x reader #din dijarin fanfiction #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javier pena fanfiction

[projectionistwrites]

I HEAR A SYMPHONY

Joel Miller x gn!reader (1.5k+)

Joel Miller once lived and breathed a melody, before Cordyceps came and stole the music in his heart away—but then he met someone who set his world back into tune.

RATING: EXPLICIT (18+, mdni) WARNINGS: SMUT (very abstract descriptions of sex, suggestive themes), this entire thing is supposed to come across as an eloquent metaphor but it’s rushed and probably super scattered

i hear a symphony — cody fry

i used to hear a simple song that was until you came along now in its place is something new i hear it when i look at you

He strummed chords on invisible strings when he was nervous.

It was something he’d done since he first learned to play guitar, fingers absentmindedly following practiced patterns when his hands were at his sides. He'd sometimes sing along in his head—Smoke on the Water, Purple Rain, Bad Moon Rising—his fingers dancing across the frets in his mind, nimbly plucking away at familiar melodies.

For many years, Joel Miller aimed to find song in every corner of his life—it was his calling since he was a child. Even when his aspirations of being a singer faded into the background as reality settled in, music always dwelled within him, all-encompassing and ever salient. It came in the form of tinny vinyls spinning on a record player; rewound cassettes echoing his favorite albums through his tired Walkman into the early hours of the morning; the shitty radio in his old pickup that only ever picked up a signal to the country music station; humming softly to himself as he flipped pancakes for his daughter's breakfast; compulsory whistling as he and his brother worked long hours in the blistering Texas sun.

When the outbreak happened, and the familiar melody of his daughter’s laughter died alongside her, his fingertips still bore the callouses from the guitar strings and his hands still itched to follow the progressions of long-forgotten tunes—but his world had fallen silent. The once steady time signature that had helped keep his days flowing with an even rhythm and tempo was holding an indefinite fermata; the once routine symphonies of daily living devolved from a worldly tune into a cacophony of dissonance; the once musically-inclined man struggled to find any semblance of lyricism in the sounds around him when everything just seemed to be noise.

But still, his fingers reminisced what his mind had since forgotten—they continued to maintain their dexterity, strumming silent harmonies and dancing along the neck of the ghost of his acoustic guitar.

The reflexive tendencies that occupied his hands were instinctual, nothing more than an idiosyncrasy that served to synchronize the energy in his body with the rapid pace with which his thoughts traveled. He didn’t notice it anymore—the chord progressions were unidentifiable at this point, his fingers operating outside of his conscious control.

But you noticed. He wasn’t sure how, or why you were observing him so meticulously that you were able to identify the patterned movements of his restless fingers, but you noticed. The inaudible melodies that his hands persistently played had always fallen on deaf ears—but the songs seemed to echo at a frequency at which only you were attuned to hear.

A knock on his door on a brisk winter evening in Jackson—your cheeks were dusted pink as you shivered on his front steps, glowing beneath the dim shine of his porch light.

There was a guitar in your hands. Your fingers were wrapped around the neck tightly as you stared up at him, a certain innocence twinkling in your kind eyes. You were nervous—the timbre of your voice fluctuated as you explained the purpose of your surprise visit. You’d been drawn to the constant motion of his fingers, your curiosity piqued at just how fluid, deliberate, and controlled each stroke appeared to be. You’d found the instrument abandoned in the attic of the home you resided in, destined to never play another tune until you’d stumbled upon it accidentally. Joel listened to your long-winded explanation—you’d been trying to teach yourself to play, and that’s why the twitching of his fingers had caught your attention; you’d recognized the technique, as you’d been hopelessly trying to emulate it yourself.

Something awoke in him as you stood on his porch that night. It was unidentifiable at the time, even after he’d invited you inside to escape the frigid December air and you’d sat across from him at the kitchen table. He was intrigued by your interest in him, and slightly impressed at your audaciousness to confront him at his own home with nothing more than an inkling that your deductions about him had been correct. It was only after you’d passed the guitar over into his lap and he began to carefully twist the tuning pegs to tighten the strings that he finally recognized what, exactly, had changed inside his mind when you first opened your mouth to speak.

The empty static had been replaced with a note. Soft, and discreet, but he could hear it. The very first chord plucked on his guitar, signifying the beginning of a composition. An overture.

Joel began to seek you out. It wasn’t difficult to do—he just had to close his eyes and listen. The wind carried the gentle dulcet of your voice; the mellifluous trill of your laughter soon became his favorite sound; with each exhale, you conducted an elegy; your very being seemed to coalesce into an aria, everything you touched seemed to resolve itself into harmony.

Similar to his recollections of your songs, your meetings increased in frequency—his large, weathered hands guided your fingers with patience and restraint, watching the quiet concentration on your face as your fingertips grew accustomed to the bite of metal strings. He became partial to serving as your audience in the mezzanine seats—your back settled between his parted legs as you sat on the floor in front of his chair, your shoulders nestled between his knees as he observed you from above, leaning forward to coach you through your occasional mistakes. His arms would blanket your own when he’d reach to manipulate the position of your hands, his palms settling over your knuckles as he adjusted your fingers to mimic his own.

You were a fucking earworm. When he was out on patrol, when you were busy helping in the dining hall, the only thing replaying in the back of his mind was you, you, you. The way your eyes shone with wonder when he’d finally relent to your endless pleas and play you something from his past. The way your fingers would twitch from where they rested on your thighs, mindlessly trying to mirror each chord he strummed. The way your lips would part when the acoustics trapped you into a trance, your mind completely enraptured by the songs he shared.

You clung to each melody with devout appreciation, drinking them in as if they were the only remedy to quench your insatiable thirst for euphony. On the rarest of occasions, when his vulnerability peeked from behind the curtain and he allowed you to listen to the gravelly timbre of his voice, the awestruck expression on your delicate features would provide a metronome for his performance in the form of his pounding heart, beating rhythmically against his ribcage.

Crescendoing. The brush of his fingers against your skin would linger for just a bit longer each time—the cloyingly sweet redolence of your honeysuckle perfume permeated even the stench of blood and decay that sometimes followed him home after macabre patrol shifts. The refrain of your duet finally made way for the bridge on the night your lips first melded with his—the hot sting of your mouth against his, your fingers buried in his hair and your body flush against his own—he found himself continuously longing for an encore.

As more and more of your musical arrangements revealed themselves to him, he familiarized himself with his favorite pieces in your repertoire—the desperate whine subdued by a kiss when he nipped at the swell of your lower lip; the ragged panting breath that escaped you when his hands slowly removed your clothes; the carnal whimpers of need when your body demanded a faster tempo than the one he was providing; the incessant repetition of your begging as his mouth worked you over, pleading for your release; the depraved moan that accompanied the initial stretch of him breaching your entrance; most of all, the sound of his name on your lips, his favorite fucking verse, your typically melodic intonation reducing itself to a wrecked, breathy version of your voice as you chanted nonsensically—please, Joel, fuck, give it to me, yes, yes, yes—

Joel was the maestro—but you were the fucking musician. He knew how to conduct, but Christ, you knew how to play. His body was your instrument, and you knew exactly how to make him sing. With practiced flicks of your wrist and calculated slides of your tongue, each note you drew from him was deliberate and strategic, performing perfectly in unison with the conductor's gesticulations.

His life had fallen back into tune. The soft, forgiving lull of your presence had reminded him of the aspirations of his past—the reason he wanted to pursue a future of music, the way the vibrations felt low in his diaphragm when he allowed his voice to ring clear. For so long, he’d lived in a world characterized by chaos and disorder, but somehow, you’d quelled the dissonance and reintroduced the broken shell of a man to the solace of song.

He watched you strum the guitar, sitting on the bench on his front porch. Your face was illuminated by the dim yellow glow of the porch light, reminiscent of the time you’d first wound up on his stoop. As your fingers deftly plucked at the strings, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth in concentration, every wrong note that Joel had ever played resolved itself as the symphony you personified washed over him—a frisson of overwhelming magnitude possessed his body as a resounding realization dawned on him.

You were his magnum opus.

#tlou #the last of us #tlou series #joel miller smut #joel miller #joel x reader #tlou smut #tlou imagine #the last of us smut #the last of us fanfic #joel and ellie #pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #joel miller x female reader #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #projectionistwrites

[beskarandblasters]

Punisher - Copycat Killer Part One

Famous Singer!Joel Miller x Stalker Fan!Reader AU

Copycat Killer Masterlist

Main Masterlist | Joel Miller Masterlist

Author’s note: This story is based on the song Punisher (which is about Phoebe Bridgers being an obsessive Elliott Smith fan) and set in an AU where Joel is a singer and the reader is an obsessed fan.

Summary: Joel is a famous singer and the reader is an obsessed fan who’s willing to do anything and go anywhere to learn more about Joel. And tonight she gets closer to him than she’s ever been.

Word count: 2.2K

Warnings: reader is able-bodied, written in third person, stalker behavior from the reader (I mean it’s Punisher what did you expect), age gap (takes place in 2010 so Joel is 43 and reader is in her mid to late 20’s), drug use, drinking, oral sex

“When the speed kicks in

I go to the store for nothing

And walk right by

The house where you lived with Snow White”

She moves through the night in a daze, aimlessly wandering around with no real mission in mind. She just moved to this side of town with the goal of getting closer to someone. That someone is Joel Miller, a singer. He sings a weird combination of folk, blues and country. Whatever it is, his music speaks to her in the most inexplicable fashion. To put it simply, she’s obsessed in an unhealthy way. She knows everything about him; where he was born, what he does in his free time, what he orders at a bar. You name it, she knows it about him. 

She’s kind of a loner, roaming the neighborhood in her free time (which was almost always). The locals grew to know her as Joel Miller’s stalker fan but they deemed that she’s harmless; just a fangirl who’s a bit too old for this sort of behavior. She’s off putting but everyone tends to feel bad for her, letting her take comfort in their shop or restaurant or bar. Sometimes she’s on drugs, sometimes she’s not.

On this particular night she’s on the prowl, looking for something specific. She’s trying to get closer to Joel Miller, as close as she could possibly be. And tonight, she’s looking for a house he used to live in. And when she finds it she’s like a kid in the candy store. Because for her, this is like being at Disneyland. She stops and stares at the white cottage in front of her, not caring about the current owners and whether or not they see her. The house looks like it belongs in a fairytale. It sits in a collection of other identical houses, all connected by a black wrought iron fence and small stone pillars. Despite all the houses looking exactly the same, she knows exactly which one used to be Joel’s. She knows all of the songs he wrote here in a drug induced haze. She feels like she can sense his presence here, even though he hasn’t lived here for a long time. She pictures him sitting on his couch with his guitar, smoking a cigarette with lines of cocaine on the table as he writes, in her opinion, masterpieces. She stands there in awe; in awe that she’s at a place where Joel Miller once was. She takes in all of the little details; the brick pathway to the front door, the stormy gray storybook tile roof, the white stucco exterior, the perfectly manicured lawn. She pictures living here with Joel, watching him as he creates his art. 

She stares off into space directly at the window until the owner opens the front door and shouts, “Get lost, you fucking creep!”

Those words don’t bother her. She’s heard it all before. She turns on her heel and walks down the street and away from the owner’s shouts, feeling satisfied with the little treasure she’s found. 

“The drug stores are open all night

The only real reason I moved to the east side

I love a good place to hide in plain sight”

It’s late at this point, well past midnight. She continues her evening stroll through the streets until she finds a drug store, open twenty four hours; another perk of moving to this neighborhood. The white fluorescent lighting and the burst of air conditioning shock her as she enters the CVS. She meanders up and down the aisles, not looking for anything in particular. She’s just not ready for her drug induced journey to end. The young cashier gives her strange looks as she paces through the aisles. But you can’t really blame him, this is an odd sight. She fantasizes further about a life with Joel, attending music events together and going on tour. All she wants to do is tell him how much his music means to her and she would be satisfied, though… or so she hopes. 

She’s walking through the first aid aisle for like the fifth time when she sees him walk in. She freezes; not knowing what to do with herself. She wants to run over to him; to tell him everything. She wants to tell him how she thinks he’s a lyrical genius and how she knows every line. But she doesn’t. She’s too starstruck. She watches as he grabs a case of beer from the cooler and takes note of the kind he buys (Miller Lite). She watches as he heads over to the cash register. The cashier doesn’t ID him, of course. He pays and disappears into the night, never noticing her the whole time. But why would he? 

She exits the store quickly, trying to catch a glimpse of what direction he was heading. She watches him stumble down the street and she starts following him, always keeping a distance. Eventually he makes a left onto a different residential street and she picks up the pace, trying to catch what house he stops at. He stops at a large house with a gate. There’s a party going on there. He buzzes the intercom and the gate opens. She’s disappointed. It’s not his house. He just left the house party to pick up more beer. Makes sense as to why it wasn’t a fancy, celebrity type of beer. It was a last minute late night decision.

“And here everyone knows you're the way to my heart

Hear so many stories of you at the bar

Most times alone, and some looking your worst

But never not sweet to the trust funds and punishers”

The gate is taking a while to close, moving ever so slowly. Without even thinking she bolts towards it, slipping inside just before the gate closes. She’s feeling exhilarated, in disbelief that she actually did this. But if she’s gonna do this, she’s gonna do it all the way. So, she makes the long trek up the pathway and to the front door. It’s unlocked of course because who would be crazy enough to sneak through the locked gate?

She enters and finds a sea of familiar faces; other musicians she recognizes and even some locals in the neighborhood. But when the locals see her a worried expression paints their faces. They know her; they know her deal. They know exactly why she’s here. None of them dare to interact with her, not in this setting. It’s different when she’s frequenting their places of business. But here, she’s an intruder; an outsider. She turns the corner and stands on the other side of the wall, looking to eavesdrop. They think she’s gone and they sigh in relief, continuing their conversation. 

“Yeah Miller was trashed last weekend… Hope the guy’s doing okay…”

“He’s been on like a six month long bender.”

“I think he’s going through something.”

She listened on the other side of the wall in pure glee at the insider information she was receiving. He’s in need, she thinks to herself, I can be there for him; I can help him. 

“Yeah he looks like shit lately… really nice guy, though. Hope he gets the help he needs.”

She decides to look for him again, weaving through clusters of drunk people, eyes constantly scanning the crowd. She spots an empty bathroom, a rare find for a house party like this, and does a line in preparation. Just in case she happens to find him. 

She steps outside into the backyard where it’s less congested. She walks along the lavish pool, pool chairs spread out all around it with people talking, drinking, and making out on them. She spots a pool house in the back of the yard with its door slightly ajar. Curious, she makes a beeline for it, hoping and praying in her head that he’s there. 

“What if I told you I feel like I know you

But we never met?”

It must be her lucky day. She pokes her head in to find none other than Joel Miller, sitting on the couch under the dim light, downing his beer. He looks at her as she enters and there’s a sense of recognition in his eyes but he doesn’t comment on it. She’s too stunned to say anything and she’s worried if she does she won’t be able to stop. Strangely enough, he’s kind to her, inviting her to sit down on the couch with him. 

“You’re welcome to take a seat with me, darlin’,” he says, slurring his words ever so slightly. 

Between the drugs and how starstruck she is, her legs can barely move. It feels like they’re thousands of pounds as she tries to make it to the couch, sitting gingerly beside him. She goes to say something, anything, but when she opens her mouth nothing comes out. 

As if he can read her mind he says, “We don’t have to talk much darlin’.”

She nods and looks down at her hands, fiddling with them as she sneaks small glimpses at him. She looks at the way his legs are spread apart; the way his hand is wrapped around the beer bottle, the Adam's apple bobbing in his neck as he takes a sip. God, she wants him so bad. But she doesn’t know how to act on it. She needs him to take the lead. 

“I’m gonna say something crazy,” she starts, the words just falling out of her mouth and she can’t stop, “I know we’ve never met… But I feel like I know you.”

That doesn’t seem to phase him. 

“That’s not the first time I’ve heard that, darlin’ but it’s nice you feel that way.”

She doesn’t really know what to say to that. She wants to prove him wrong; prove that she’s different. Without thinking she scooches closer and closer to him. He doesn’t fight it. He looks at her with the wild look she has in her eyes. Between the drugs, alcohol and the strange, inexplicable attraction they have for each other their lips just come crashing together. She pulls herself into his lap and straddles him, grinding her hips against him as they kiss each other passionately. Her hands find his hair as his hands gravitate towards his waist. She’s internally flipping the fuck out that she is kissing the Joel Miller in this random fucking pool house. She reaches between her legs and rubs the spot where his cock is pitching a tent in his pants. He moans against her lips as her hands caress him above the fabric. She moves her lips from his and finds his neck, pressing wet kisses there as he throws his head back against the couch. She moves herself off of him and kneels on the floor, unbuckling his jeans to fight the wet spot in his boxers where his pre-cum leaked out. She gropes him again, this time with less fabric in the way, driving him insane. His eyes are shut with pleasure and anticipation as she works him harder and harder. She pulls his cock from his boxers and wastes no time sucking him off, taking as much of him as she can in her mouth and down her throat. He grunts and groans as she moves one hand to his balls, cupping them lightly as she takes care of his cock. One of his hands grabs her hair, pulling her closer to his groin. Tears spring in her eyes as she takes him further, pushing into the back of her throat. He grinds his hips against her as he fucks her face. She looks up at him through her tear filled eyes as he brings himself closer to the edge with her mouth. She takes a mental picture of him above her in complete and utter pleasure, feeling proud of herself that she did this to him. She feels his cock twitch and harden in her mouth and she knows he’s at the edge. She can’t stop now no matter how uncomfortable her jaw is. She wills herself to take him a smidgen deeper as he cums in her mouth. His moans like music to her ears as she swallows every last drop of his warm release. His grip on her hair softens as he comes down from his high, panting and cursing profusely. She removes him slowly from her mouth and catches her breath. Her mind is internally screaming at her right now, torn between being proud but also freaking the fuck out. They both sat there catching their breath before either of them spoke. 

“I can't open my mouth and forget how to talk

'Cause even if I could, wouldn't know where to start

Wouldn't know when to stop”

And it’s Joel who speaks first, “That was a damn good time, darlin’.”

She’s silent and he doesn’t know what to do with that. Anything and everything she wants to say to him is on the tip of her tongue, aching to be heard. But now she’s paranoid, surely from the drugs. She’s going ballistic in her mind that she got this close to Joel; too close. She wipes her chin, gets up and bolts, leaving him there on the couch with his cock still out in the open and wet. She weaves in and out of the crowd of people again, on the edge of panic attack. Yet when she finds herself on the street she’s already thinking about where to see him again. 

End note: This was super fun for me to write!!! I was most excited for this song. I know it's a little weird but thanks for reading🥰 I like where it ended for the sake of the story and the song but I'm thinking of doing a part two👀 These two and this universe really intrigue me.

#beskarandblasters punisher #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller imagine #joel miller x you #joel miller au #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #punisher #punisher phoebe bridgers #pedrostories #pedro pascal joel miller #pedro pascal characters #tlou #tlou hbo #the last of us #the last of us hbo #the last of us fanfic #joel miller

[bellofthemeadow]

“I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Country Singer!Joel Miller x Female Reader

This is my entry for the 1k event found on @pedrostories

Trope: Forced Proximity

Masterlist

Rating: M for Mature (18 + no minors allowed)

Word Count: 12.7K (T.T Sorry )

Story Summary: Amidst a raging storm, an unexpected meeting thrusts you into forced proximity with former country sensation, Joel Miller, in the midst of an isolated nowhere. As the evening unfolds, filled with tension and vulnerability, both of you unveil the depths of your grief and heartaches. Through this shared journey of sorrow, an unanticipated bond forms, and maybe some light at the end of the storm.

Warning: Mentioned of death, TLOU canonical character death, mentioned of attempted suicide, depression, mental health struggle, referenced to cheating, angst, hurt and comfort, allusion of alcoholism, self hatred, smut, sexual intercourse, P in V, oral (female receiving), no protection, one night stand, age gap (late 20s/early 30s Reader with mid 40s Joel(No Minors Allowed! Thank you)

Notes: Hey everyone, I am taking a short break from my regular story to enter the 1K event on @pedrostories. What was supposed to be a short one shot, became an almost 13k word Behemoth! Although this is intended as a standalone, I found myself really liking the universe and the characters. If any of you would be interested to see more of the universe, I would be super open to making a second and a third part  😀 🤞 😀   

Let me know what you all think and if you'd like to see more of it and if you enjoy the story. I always love to hear what you all think!

Again, thank you to everybody, I love you all so much xxx Sending you all the love and support wherever you are ❤️ 

(SMUT BETWEEN **** SKIP IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT****)

Joel Miller sat hunched next to the large stone hearth, He carved a solemn figure in the corner of his secluded cabin. Far into the woods and away from the rest of the world, he had called this place his home for the past decade. Clutched in his hands was a photograph —a young girl, her long curly hair and dusky complexion frozen in a smile that still reached into his very soul and threaten to rip it out everything he looked at it. That smile, oh, how he longed to see it again, it had been his only wish for so long. Even for just minute, a mere second; he would gladly give his soul to have his life lighted by the smile of his babygirl just one last time.

With a gentle touch, Joel traced the delicate outline of his daughter, the girl whose absence had dug a profound whole in his heart. One that could never be mended again. It was ten years today, Joel thought bitterly. But still, he clung to her memory fiercely, fearing the gradual fading that time brings to everything. He dreaded the thought of losing the vividness with which he saw her now, a fear that gripped him tighter as the years moved forward. The details that once were clear as the early morning dew now seemed to slip through his fingers like grains of sand. The echo of her laughter, the title of the last book she held in her hands, the subtle nuances that made her unique—he struggled to grasp them, and this realization filled him with fear and hatred. What kind of father forgot about his babygirl?

Was her sneeze loud as his own, or was it a delicate sound, more like a sweet whisper? The uncertainty gnawed at him, a relentless reminder of the gaps in his mind. Why couldn't he rememeber? What if a day came when he could no longer conjure the contours of her sweet face or the mischievous curve of her teasing smile? The thought was unbearable, the guilt consuming him more each days.

Joel’d never considered himself an exemplary father, he grappled with the weight of regret for being too engrossed in his career to give his daughter a normal childhood. The rhythm of their lives was not marked by little league games and playdates with neighbours; instead, it was deafining with the roar of tour buses and the pungent scent of roadies, accompanied by the loud cheering of fans all over the country. Sarah’s life had always been unorthodox and it had been his fault—home tutoring replaced high school classrooms, the lessons fitting in the gaps between Nashville and Austin, where he recorded albums to give entertainment to the world. Something that, looking back, seemed futile and completely stupid. He would give all of his money, awards and recognition away just to hold his Sarah one more time.

When she died, he was stripped bare, nothing left inside the whole where his heart had once been. And Joel found himself adrift, the passion for his craft evaporating. How could he make music without the sound of a heart that once beat in harmony with his daughter's laughter? The will to create, the desire that once fueled his artistry, had lost its pulse. The prospect of touring, once thrilling and freeing, now seemed like an empty road stretching into oblivion. What purpose did it serve if Sarah was no longer there to illuminate the stage of his life? The exhilaration of performance, the applause that once gave him purpose—these fragments of success had become hollow, devoid of meaning.

It was not all bleak though, amidst the darkness of his existence, there were moments where the good outweighed the bad. Nights brought dreams of Sarah, where her presence was vibrant and tangible. In those dreams, she would look at him with that familiar smile, and for a fleeting instant, the chasm between what was dead and alive seemed to bridged together. Joel would see her as clear as day, sitting together in their old house, the echoes of their conversations resonating through is sleeping form. It seemed like hours would melt away as Joel and Sarah would delve into discussions about music and school sharing stories that held a fragile thread between past and present. But in the end, dawn would inevitably break, and reality would reassert its grip. Joel would inevitably wake up, the cabin steeped in an unsettling silence, his heart laden with the guilt and grief of her absence. Those dreams were his sanctuary, a bittersweet realm where he could briefly hold onto the warmth of what once was. But he couldn't live in dreams, and now even those moments that seemed to make life bearable were starting to wade in their appeal; they appear more cruel than kind as every mornings killed him a little more.

A resounding clap of thunder reverberated through the confines of the cabin. In its wake, a brilliant flash of lightning pierced the darkness. Joel sighed heavily and the raindrops began their relentless descent upon the cabin's roof and walls. It seems like the world outside mirrored his internal turmoil, the tempestuous weather a reflection of the storm within. 3652 days had slipped by a relentless procession of time. 87,648 hours of unbearable absence. Each passing moment stretched into an eternity, a cruel reminder of how long he had been without his cherished little girl.

Immersed in this ceaseless torrent of sorrow, he existed in a realm of suspended animation. Every action felt like a monumental effort, and the concept of simply being felt like an insurmountable challenge. The world around him had dimmed, muted by the overwhelming weight of his emotions. In this somber existence, even the simple act of drawing breath carried the weight of an arduous task. The colors had faded from his world, leaving behind a landscape of gray and desolation, mirroring the emptiness within.

His hand reached out, fingers closing around the cool neck of the whiskey bottle resting on the low table before him. A pang of bitter guilt tightened within him—he could almost hear his little Sarah's admonishment, disapproving of the choice he was about to make. She always hated the strong smell of liquor that would linger on his old leather jacket when they would go on tour.  His eyes drifted toward the shotgun that rested next to the door, his heart seized tightly within his chest. Maybe tonight he would do it, he thought. Maybe tonight he would free himself from the pain and the guilt of an existence without Sarah.

In the stillness of the cabin, Joel's voice trembled with pain and longing as he whispered, "To you, babygirl, I miss you so much."

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

Loud knocks echoed through the quiet cabin, making Joel freeze in his tracks. Raindrops kept beating in a frenzied rhythm on the roof, their clamour joining forces with the unexpected raps. Joel couldn’t remember the last time someone had knocked on his door. With how remote cabin the cabin was, there was hardly any visitors, ever. Only his brother Tommy and his old manager Tess knew about this place. Tess used to drop by every now and then, hoping he'd start working on a new album (which would never happened). But now she knew better than that.

With slow and deliberate movements, Joel set the bottle onto the table's worn surface, his movement unhurried as if not to disturb the tension that now hung in the air. His gaze swept the room, his gaze landing again on the shotgun near the entrance. He grabbed it and made his way to the entrance. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be a zealous fan who had somehow found his address. He really wasn’t in the mood tonight to re-enact Misery.

He swung the door open, his irritation peaking, prepared to confront whoever was bothering him on this day above all others.

"I don't know if ya capable of reading,", his voice dripping like venom, seeping with annoyance, "but in case ya missed it, there's a 'Private Property' sign right on the..."

You sat on the large leather couch, trying to make yourself as small as possible while your body shivered involuntarily as the chill from your drenched clothes seemed to seep into your very bones. You didn't want to be here. The man who opened the door for you certainly didn't want you here. But the violent storm outside had other ideas. The dirt paths of the forest had turned muddy and slippery and the force of the wind and rain had completely obscured your vision, there was no way you could have made it back to your car in those conditions. So when you had spotted the cabin as you were looking for shelter, you had almost cried in happiness. Now you weren't so sure as anxiety gripped you. You replayed the moments after the door swung open, revealing a stern looking man who eyed you with a mixture of surprise and suspicion. The hint of a shotgun nearby had done nothing but intensify your fear. For a second you had wanted to bolt from the place, but you had no other choice. In the end the man had let you in, simply introducing himself as Joel.

Clutching your arms around yourself in a futile attempt to generate warmth, you look around yourself at the interior of the cabin. Surveying your surroundings, the rustic charm of the living room did little to alleviate your anxious mind. The ambiance should have felt cozy, even romantic in any other circumstances, with the warm wooden decor and the crackling fireplace. But under the weight of your current predicaments, thoughts of roasting marshmellows and teasing kisses were at the back of your mind.

You were alone, drenched to the bone, in the company of a man you knew nothing about. Shit that was exactly how people died in horror movies. I am totally going to get myself killed, you despair frantically. They’ll find my body dismembered in a bunch of little pieces all over the forest, your mind supplied unhelpfully.

You tried to calm  yourself as best as you could, taking deep breath in an attempt to settle your mind. Frustated, you pulled out your phone. The meager 8% battery life and lack of data coverage was a sobering reminder of the shit you were in. If anything were to go awry, if this Joel turned out to be less than accommodating, you'd be stranded with no means of communication.

You had shared your plans for the day with your friend Chrissy mentionning how you were going to take the Broken Bow trails to. But even then, you two had been texting sporadically since you left DC so you were fully expecting her not to worry until several days had passed. Not ideals if you were to disapear without a trace. So, if Joel shifted from hospitable to hostile, no one would be none the wiser. And you would become forest fertilizer.

At this point, you were hoping that Joel would be more the flower and wine type instead of rope and chainsaws. Speak of the devil, the man appeared in the doorway, his large frame illuminated by a flash of lightning. In his arms, he was holding what you believed to be clothes "Got these for ya," he stated curtly, his gaze holding yours for a fleeting moment before he gestured vaguely toward the stairs. "Shower’s up those stairs. Go change and I’ll get some coffee on the stove. It'll warm ya up"

Your initial instinct was to decline, you began to stammer, only to be met with Joel stern gaze "I ain’t letting ya freeze to death in my livin’ room," He stated firmly his tone a command that quashed any protests. His words were spoken clearly, and he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. "Now go," he added, his tone leaving no room for negotiation.

Under the weight of his stern order, nervousness bubbled within you, mingling with a touch of gratitude. The contrast between his gruff demeanour and the kind gesture of care left you momentarily speechless. All you could do was nod, your voice silenced by his unspoken authority.

With a whispered "thank you," you accepted the bundle of clothes from his hands, your fingers brushing against his in a fleeting spark of connection. Without further words, you turned and hastened toward the staircase, his gaze lingering on your retreating form for a moment before he turned his attention to the kitchen where the coffee was. The stairs creaked under your hurried ascent, each step carrying you further away from the enigmatic man who had offered you shelter in this storm.

Twenty minutes slipped past quickly, after the hell of a day you'd just had, you felt like you were in heaven. The sensation of being washed clean, wrapped in warmth, and clad in what you swear were the coziest clothes you’d ever felt on your skin. A pair of well-worn gray sweatpants and a faded band shirt clung to you like a reassuring hug. You sighed contendly before meeting your own gaze in the bathroom mirror.

Looking back at yourself, you started to contemplate that you would soon have to venture downstairs to thank Joel. At the thought, a flutter of nervousness twirled in your stomach. The bathroom, with its locked door, felt safe, shielding you from the uncertainties of the rest of the night. Staying here, was tempting, at least until morning. Even if Joel had been nice so far, you didn’t know the guy from Adam. But in the end, you knew that you couldn’t just hold the guy’s bathroom hostage. Plus, practical needs called—you had to charge your phone, and the promise of warm coffee was hard to resist. Pushing a damp strand of hair behind your ear, you started to quietly make your way downstair. Praying to every Gods you knew that Joel was the good samaritan he seemed to be.

Returning to the living room, your gaze settled on Joel, perched on the same leather couch where you had sat earlier before he directed you to the shower. On the floor nearby lay some old rags, sopping wet with the water that had seeped in along with your drenched clothes.

Joel sat with a tensed back; his focus consumed by something he held in his hands. Tentative steps carried you closer, each one a whisper of uncertainty. Yet, despite your movements, the man remained oblivious, lost in whatever held his attention.

You approached with trepidation, your heartbeat quickening in the otherwise silent room. Your eyes flicked to the object in his hands, curiosity mingling with your apprehension. Peering over his shoulder, your breath caught as your gaze locked onto the image, he was engrossed in. A young girl, staring back at you with a bright, innocent smile that seemed to transcend even the still image of the photograph.

The room seemed to hold its breath, a moment suspended between your gaze and the photograph. "She's really pretty," you ventured softly, your voice a hesitant thread. Joel's response was sharp, almost as if you had slapped him. "... she was," his words carried a weight that hung between you both, heavy with a bittersweet melancholy. As your heart clenched at his words, understanding washing over you like a cold shower.

An awkwardness settled in the air, thickening the silence. You felt the pulse of your heart, its rhythm echoing the sense of disquiet that now swirled around you. Meeting his gaze, you found yourself lost in the depths of his sad brown eyes.

Summoning your courage, you utter "Thank you again for saving my skin out there," your words wavered slightly, betraying your uneasy timidity. "I put my wet clothes on the rack in the bathroom to dry. Hopefully, they'll be alright by morning, and I'll be out of your hair as soon as possible." The words tumbled out in a rush.

Joel's gaze remained on you, as if he was studying you intently, trying to unravel something beneath the surface. His response was measured, his voice carrying a southern twang "... 'tis no problem," he conceded after a beat. "Coffee should be ready," he added.

You nodded and followed in the wake of Joel's towering form. Along one wall, your eyes landed on an acoustic guitar that with the dust covering it, seemed to have remained untouched for a while. Intrigued, you couldn't help but point at it as Joel poured the rich black liquid into your mug. "You play?"

The response was understated, but you could tell there was more to say to this story. "... used to."

You took the hint, choosing not to pry further. At the very least, Joel didn't strike you as the stuff of horror movies; in fact, there was something about him that felt invitingly genuine. A warm and gentle gruffness that seemed lost in this day and age. As he poured coffee into your mug, your gaze wandered over him, observing the details that your earlier unease had masked.

Joel, in his rugged masculinity, demanded attention by his very presence. His size and broadness were emphasized by the worn flannel he wore, his biceps and shoulders hinting at strength beneath. Shaggy brown hair carried threads of white, suggesting a long life lived. You guessed he must be in his mid-40s. As he extended the cup toward you, his face once again came into view, and you couldn't help but acknowledge the magnetic allure he commanded.

But there was a sadness etched into those handsome features, an undertone that tugged at your curious nature. Your earlier observation seemed validated by his demeanour—tired and burdened. His reaction to the photograph had been a cryptic puzzle piece that hinted at a story you could only begin to piece together. Silently, you returned to the living room, the space that now felt familiar in its strangeness. As you both settled back down on the couch, Joel offered a comfortable-looking blanket, a gesture that warmed you in more ways than one. "Here, it's cold."

His soft gaze met yours, accompanied by a tentative smile. You felt yourself burned under his gaze, a response to the genuine kindness he radiated. Accepting the blanket, you cocooned yourself within its folds, savouring the moment with this stranger with a larger heart than most of your old friends.

A comfortable silence enveloped the room, your shared presence settling into a serene rhythm as you both sip your coffee. Then, Joel's voice cut through the quiet, breaking the spell. "I put your phone on the charge. I hoped it's okay."

The unexpected statement jolted you slightly, and you responded quickly, "Yeah, it's alright. Thank you so much." Your gratitude was met with silence from Joel.

His hand reached for a bottle of whiskey positioned beside the photograph you had noticed earlier "You mind?" he inquired, and without words, you extended your mug, a silent affirmation that brought a warm laugh from Joel. The sound resonated in the room, carrying a hint of teasing as he added a splash of whiskey to your coffee before topping his own. You found yourself loving the way he sounded when he laughed.

Your lips curved into a wry smile as you voiced the irony that hovered between you. "I know I shouldn't, a girl all alone in a cabin with a strange man who gets drunk on whiskey, its literally the beginning of a horror movie." Your words carried a touch of dry self-awareness. "But at this point, I guess that if you wanted to cut me up and dump me in your backyard, you would've done it already."

Joel's response was immediate, his words laced with dry amusement. "Not really my style. Too messy."

You met his words with a dry look, "That's good to know," the exchange drew the first genuine smile from Joel.

"So, what's your story? Why're ya in the woods in the middle of the night?" Your reaction was a scoff, a playfulness smirk edging on your face.  

"I mean, it's 9 pm. Hardly the middle of the night." However, your attempt to downplay the situation was met with an unimpressed eyebrow raise from Joel. He kept on looking at you, as he sipped his spiced coffee, a silent challenge written in his eyes. You wiggled under his stare feeling bare and open, your most secret parts expose for Joel's eyes to explore.

One part of your brain insisted that you shut up, keep the conversation brief, feign a headache, and retire for the night. However, another part of your mind encouraged you to confide in him, to share the minutiae of pain and heartache that you had carefully concealed since leaving DC. It urged you to unseal the chest you had locked away and pour out its contents – the essence of your soul – at his feet.The thought crossed your mind that Joel likely didn't receive many visitors in this cabin in the middle of nowhere, if any at all.

Leaning into the quiet intimacy of the moment, you found yourself opening up to him, allowing the words to flow from you like the torrential rain falling outside. "Well, I was a project manager back in DC, worked that job for about four years after college," you began. Memories of your time in the office flitted through your mind, remembering the long hours that stretched long into the night and the thankless faces you would see everyday.

You continued, "There had been some layoffs happening, but my boss told me I'd be fine." Your voice carried a tinge of bitterness, a lingering taste of disappointment. "Turns out I wasn't fine. She called me into the office last month, told me to pack my things, and said security would escort me off the premises." The raw frustration in your words was still palpable, "Like I was a fucking criminal!"

The expletive slipped from your lips, your emotions laid bare, you met Joel's gaze but he simply shook his head as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Like he was feeling the same emotions as you, like he was angry on your behalf. He then opened his mouth in a low whistle steeped in your shared indignation. "What a bitch," he declared emphatically.

A wry smile touched your lips as you continued, recounting the details of that shitty day that had changed everything for you.  "And that's not all," you added, "So, I'm hysterical, you know? I just lost my job and all." You took a deep breath, "I call my boyfriend, but no answer. I figure he's busy. It's the middle of the day, so I think nothing of it. So, I get to our apartment. I open the door, and there's clothes all over the place, like a goddam hurricane happened. And then, I hear that bastard going at it in the bedroom." A groan escaped you, still pained at what you had found that day.

Joel said nothing but extended the bottle to you, an unspoken gesture. You grabbed the bottle, the whiskey warmed your throat as you took a hearty sip, to settle your nerves and your heart.

All the while, Joel remained silent, his presence a steady anchor, "So yeah, he was screaming, she was screaming, and I was screaming," memory seemed distant, a scene from another life, like you were watching a movie "I was so angry. I could have throttled them." The bitterness was palpable in your words, "But in the end, the apartment was under his name, because I had moved into his place, and we hadn't renewed the lease yet."

So that was it, loss layered upon loss until even the space you had called home was stripped away. "So, he basically told me to pack up my shit and leave. Which mind you, I was more than happy to." you added.

 But then, you got quiet, That night, I found myself in a McDonald's drive-through, and it struck me that within a single day, I had lost my job, my boyfriend, and my apartment," your voice softened as you recollected everything that had gone wrong so quickly. "So, I made the choice to leave DC, to escape the city," you went on, "I suppose I was hoping to discover what direction I truly wanted my life to take."

"And now you're here," Joel supplied.

"And now I am here," you echoed.

Joel's hand reached out, his touch a silent comfort on your arm, skin raising under his touch as if he was setting it on fire. His voice was gentle as he spoke, his empathy evident. "'M sorry 'tis happened to ya sweetheart, it ain't right."

You felt yourself clench at the endearing word, a small timid smile tugged at your lips, "Yeah, that's life though," you replied, "Sometimes it hits you, and there's nothing you can do about it, My mom told me once that it's not about how many times you fall down, it's about how many times you can get back up. And even though all that's happened hurt like hell, I won't let that define who I am."

Joel's gaze bore into you, “You ‘ma seems like a smart woman.”

You smile a bit at his words, “She is, you'd like her. She isn’t the type to appear on people’s porches in the middle of the night.” You joke.

“Thought it was jus’ 9 pm?” Now you let out a loud guffaw, “Joel are you teasing me?” Your only answer was a sign of Joel’s hand motioning toward the bottle that you still held in your hands. You handed it over, watching as he took a hearty sip himself, copying your earlier movement.

"Her name was Sarah," Joel's voice was heavy as he uttered those simple words.

You watched him closely as he gestured towards the photograph with the smiling girl "She was my little girl," his voice trembled. "And I loved her more than anything in the world."

You let him continued at his pace, not wanting to spook the man "Raised her m'self, her mom didn't want nothin' to do with us," his words held a touch of resignation and a whole lot of bitterness. "She was the only light in my life." The pain in his voice was palpable.

His voice faltered, moved by the vulnerability he was showing you, you shifted closer, a gesture of comfort that mirrored the earlier touch he had offered you. Placing your hand on his knee, you offered a gentle squeeze, to reassure him of your presence and understanding.

Joel took a deep breath, "When she 'as just a baby, I was workin' construction, but it didn't pay much," he began, "So in the evenin', I would go to the bar and sing and play guitar. There I met Tess; she loved my sound and soon enough she became my agent. Next thing ya kno', Sarah and I 're in Nashville, and I'm recordin' music full time." you interjected raising your eyebrow with curiosity. "So, the guitar..."

He nodded, his expression softening as he continued. "Yeah, from when I was makin' music. Was a pretty big deal for a while."

"So, I would have heard of you?" you asked, your tone light earning a light scoff from Joel as he shook his head, a rueful smile gracing his lips. "Unless ya into country, I don’t think so."

You offered an apologetic smile, "Can’t say I’ve listened to much.”

His response was warm, reassuring. "It's okay." Joel continued, " Sarah and I did it for a while. The lifestyle. I would make music, tour, but she was always there with me. It was a lot of hours, and she was homeschooled so she could stay with me." His voice wavered, his gaze distant as he spoke, lost in the memories. "But we were happy. For a while anyway."

At his words, you tightened your grip on his knee, "One night, we had a big fight," Joel's voice carried a heavy ton. “Sarah, she was upset. Wanted a normal high school life, friends her age. But I was gearing up for a tour and we’d be on the road for at least six months. She wasn't having it. Said she'd rather stay with my brother, Tommy than go on another tour with me."

"I tried to make her feel better, promised her we’d have fun, that she could meet people her age at the hotels we’d be staying at" he continued, his voice filled with regret. "Told her this tour would be the last, that we'd settle down after that, somewhere quiet in the middle of nowhere.” His breath itched as he struggled to keep his voice steady, “And I promised I'd stop making music. But she didn't want to hear none of it." His voice quivered, "She told me she hated me." You winced at his words.

"I got angry and said things I shouldn't have," Joel's voice cracked, tears rolling down his cheeks. "Called her a brat." He sounded haunted by those words, like he wished he could take them back even after all those years.

His hands covered his face as he let his emotions and his tears flow freely for what seemed like the first time in a long while. Without thinking, you reached out, holding his hands to offer comfort and support as Joel continued, “So, I told one of my tech guys to take her back to the hotel, needed to get focused for the show. Next thing I know, I'm halfway through my set and I get a call. Sarah's in the hospital, the car got smashed by some drunk driver. I bailed the second I heard, but when I got to the hospital, she was already gone. My little girl died alone, and she thought I hated her. The last words I said to her was how much of a brat she was." Seeing him crumble before your eyes was heartbreaking. Tears flowed down his face as he clutched his head in his hands. Instinctively, you reached for him, gripping him firmly, pulling him close to you. Your arms wrapped around him tightly, holding him to convey that he wasn't alone, at least not tonight. "Let it out," your voice was a gentle murmur, encouraging him to release the pain and the sadness that had been locked inside for so long. "You're safe, Joel. It's alright, I'm here.”

And he did let go. Sobs racked his body as his emotions poured out like rain from the storm-clouds outside. You held onto him, providing a safe place for him to pour his grief into. Time seemed to blur as you clung to each other, your touch offering kindness in the face of his pain. Your fingers traced soothing patterns on his back, your whispered words a soothing lullaby, as you tried to ease his sorrow, even if just for this fleeting moment.

After what seemed like an eternity, Joel's sobs began to fade into quiet sniffles, and then, gradually, into the gentle rhythm of sleep. His exhausted body had finally surrendered to the emotional storm he had weathered. You held him tightly, letting him fall asleep in your arms, so he could rest.

Your gaze shifted to the photograph on the table, Sarah's smiling face looking back at you. With a soft tone, you whispered to the sleeping man before you, your words a tender balm to the wounds of his heart. "I might not have known her," your voice barely more than a breath, "but I can see the love between you two. In her eyes, in that smile." Your voice carried a quiet conviction as if you were reassuring both him and her. Leaning in, you placed a gentle kiss on his forehead. "Rest now, Joel. You're not alone."

Unbeknownst to you, as sleep began to claim him, Joel was in that liminal space between wakefulness and sleep. Your words, like a soothing melody, reached him in his half-conscious state. His heart ached at your kindness, the unexpected solace you had brought him. His emotions swirled, a mix of sadness and gratitude, as your presence provided a momentary respite from the perpetual pain. For the first time since Sarah’s death, Joel fell asleep warm and comforted.

The harsh sound of rain pounding on the cabin's roof roused you from your uneasy sleep. Your neck and back protested, bearing the marks of an uncomfortable night spent on the small couch you had shared with Joel. You shifted, trying to find relief from the awkward position you had contorted yourself into. The darkness of the cabin wrapped around you, the only sound apart from the rain was the rhythm of your own breath.

You felt Joel’s absence from beside you, his warmth now gone. He had managed to slip away without disturbing your slumber, a feat that puzzled you considering his imposing presence. The darkness outside the windows hinted at the early hours, perhaps around 2 or 3 in the morning. You peered around the room, but the limited light prevented you from seeing much beyond vague shapes and shadows. The night seemed to have its own weight, as if time itself held its breath in the midst of the storm.

"Are y’awake?" Joel's voice cut through the darkness, startling you into a sudden yelp.

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle ya," his voice held an apologetic note as he stepped into view, a flashlight casting a soft, warm glow around the room. "Lost power sometime in the night, didn't wanna wake ya. Seemed like you needed the rest." He settled at the far end of the couch, a few inches from your feet.

"Joel…" your voice was hushed, a mixture of emotions swirling within you.

"It was ten years last night," he continued, his voice carrying the weight of years of grief. "Ten years ssince my babygirl died." His words hung in the air, heavy and poignant.

"I've always felt so alone," his voice trembled, "like there was no way out, like I was as good as gone. For so long, I've told myself that I should've been the one to go instead of her." His words struck a deep chord, and tears welled in your eyes.

"Still think I should've, it ain't right for kids to die before their folks" he whispered angrily, the pain evident in his voice. "But Sarah… she was like an angel, always takin’ care of me. And on the night when I'm considerin’ takin’ that shotgun and finally goin’ to see her… you show up." His gaze met yours, his expression confused. You saw pain, sadness, anger but there was tenderness and hope etched deep wihtin in his eyes. Joel ran a hand through his hair frantically.

"It's like my Sarah is still lookin’ out for me," he continued, "Like she knew what I was plannin’, and she sent me another angel to be with me."

A warmth spread within you, blooming deep inside of you at his words. With a slow motion, you pushed the covers aside, the cold air prickling your skin as you cautiously maneuvered over the short expanse of the couch until you were close to Joel. The room was dimly illuminated by the soft golden glow of the flashlight, casting shadows that danced around you both.

In the velvety cocoon of the hushed darkness, an unspoken desire bloomed between you. You moved with a subtle grace, straddling his wide hips, your gazes locking in the dim, intimate light. The air seemed to crackle with a newfound tension as you whispered his name, a gentle invitation laden with longing.

Joel's hands moved instinctively to your hips, his touch both gentle and possessive, grounding you in him. "Yes, my angel?" his voice held a soft edge of anticipation, a promise hanging in the air.

****You leaned in, your lips finding his in a dance that transcended words. The kiss was a slow, intoxicating melding of souls, a harmony of sensations and emotions that seemed to surge through every nerve in your bodies. Joel's lips were warm and inviting, their touch conveying a mix of urgency and tenderness that ignited a spark within you.

Your fingers cradled the back of his head, tangling in the strands of his hair as you deepened the kiss. A low, throaty moan escaped him as he yielded to the sensation, his response igniting a fire of desire within you. The taste of his lips, the press of his body against yours, it all felt like a perfect symphony of your two body.

As the kiss broke, Joel's whispered words mingled with the soft hum of the storm outside. "Are you sure?" he asked a thread of concern woven into his tone.

A smile touched your lips, a mix of assurance and desire. "Never been surer in my life, cowboy."

His smile in response was like a sunrise, warmth and light flooding the room. Rising from the couch, he held you in his strong arms, your laughter echoing as he started to ascend the stairs with you in his embrace. The world outside was forgotten, eclipsed by this moment. Eclipsed by Joel holding you close.

As you reached what you assumed was Joel's bedroom, a surge of anticipation and desire compelled you to draw him into another fervent kiss. The soft laughter that escaped him was a melody that danced against your lips, and you responded with a mixture of eagerness and playfulness.

Joel's touch was both electrifying and gentle, he swatted your bottom teasingly, his voice a breathless whisper against your lips, "Patience, angel."

His words sent shivers down your spine, mingling with the electric tension that enveloped you both. The room seemed to shrink around you as desire flared, intertwining your fates in a web of longing and need. With a mixture of restraint and yearning, you allowed the dance between you to continue, each moment a step closer to surrendering to the consuming passion that had ignited between you.

With a gentleness that belied his strength, Joel guided you onto the large bed. Your senses were alight, every detail heightened as if the world had shifted into sharper focus. The bedding beneath you cradled your form, its softness embracing you like a lover's touch. The air around you carried a faint chill, a stark contrast to the heat that seemed to radiate from the space between you and Joel.

But it was his gaze that held you captive, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that set your heart racing. In his gaze, you saw a constellation of emotions, desire mingling with a hint of vulnerability, each flicker a testament to the depth of connection you shared. Time seemed to slow, the storm outside merely a distant echo as you were immersed in this moment, this charged space where nothing else mattered except the unspoken language of longing that passed between you. The room felt small, a universe confined to the expanse of the bed where you lay,

 And the dance began—a sensual rhythm that both of you instinctively understood. Joel's hands, firm and determined, reached for the fabric of your shirt, his fingers curling around the material before he tugged it away from your body. The garment was discarded to the side of the room, forgotten. A smirk graced his lips, his eyes alight with a mixture of desire and amusement.

"That was an old shirt from my '01 tour in California," he confessed playfully. "Seeing you wear something of mine stirs up all sorts of feelings, angel."

A breathless laugh escaped you, a mix of nerves and excitement intertwining in the sound. Joel's mouth descended with practiced skill, capturing your right nipple in a delicate play of sensations. His lips and tongue orchestrated a dance, alternating between gentle kisses and teasing tugs, coaxing your body to respond. Your nipple responded to his attentions, standing taut against the flicker of his tongue. His warm breath brushed against your skin, sending a shiver of anticipation coursing through you, a stark contrast to the cool air that surrounded you.

The torturous symphony of sensations migrated to your other nipple, the alternating rhythm of pleasure and tease sending shockwaves of need radiating from your core. Unable to contain your yearning, you whispered a plea, your voice a hushed prayer. "Please, Joel..."

His response was a gentle murmur, a tantalizing question. "Tell me what you want, angel."

A rush of arousal and aching need surged through you, and you implored him with a breathless urgency, your words carrying a plea for more. "More, please..."

Amusement danced in his eyes as he pushed you further, his own desire and anticipation evident in the way he held you, in the way he looked at you. "You're gonna have to be more precise than that, angel," he coaxed, his voice a seductive melody that echoed between you.

You suddenly grabbed Joel’s head and directed him towards your aching core, “Touch me here please Joel, I can't.”

“Whatever my angel desires.” And he bends his head down wrenching a scream of delight from your lips as he started lapping at your core with enthusiastic desire. You had never felt anything like this before, previous lovers have always been less than enthusiastic at performing this particular act, but it seemed like Joel reveled in making you squirm and he was trying his best to elicit as many breathless moans from you. And you were more than happy to oblige him. He started alternating between lapping at your clit teasingly and rubbing his fingers alongside your slit, all the while murmuring cooing words into your core “my beautiful angels, you are so good to me.”

With a surge of boldness, your hand darted out to grasp Joel's head, your fingers threading through his hair as you guided him to the source of your aching desire. A plea tumbled from your lips, raw and unrestrained, "Touch me here, please, Joel. I can't wait any longer."

A playful smirk danced across his lips, his eyes gleaming with the thrill of fulfilling your desires. "Whatever my angel desires," he responded, his voice a seductive promise. Bending his head with deliberate intent, he set forth on a way that was sure to send you in  a primal surge of ecstasy.

A passionate cry of delight erupted from your lips as Joel's skilled tongue found its mark, dancing across your sensitive core with an enthusiasm that set your senses ablaze. This was an experience like no other, a stark departure from previous lovers where enthusiasm had been scarce. With Joel, it was different—he revelled in your pleasure, his fervent devotion evident in every movement.

His lips and tongue worked in tandem, alternating between tender lapping and teasingly rhythmic motions that sent electric jolts of pleasure coursing through you. His fingers joined in the sensual symphony, tracing delicate patterns alongside your slick folds, igniting fires of sensation wherever they ventured.

Amidst the heady sensations, Joel's voice reached your ears, a sweet and enticing serenade that whispered cooing words directly to your core. "My beautiful angel, you are so good to me," he murmured, his words like molten honey, dripping with adoration and lust.

Your moans and gasps crescendoed into a symphony of pleasure, each sounds a testament to the waves of ecstasy coursing through your body. As if guided by the melody of your desire, Joel responded with a calculated touch, slipping a finger inside you. A powerful scream of pleasure erupted from your lips, the sensation of his digit plunging deep within you electrifying your senses and igniting a fierce yearning.

"Oh my God, Joel, please!" Your words tumbled out in a jumble of incoherence, driven by an insatiable need that clouded your thoughts. The urgency in your voice spoke volumes, even if the words themselves were fragmented. You needed more, you craved more, but your mind was too consumed by the sensations to formulate coherent sentences.

Joel pressed on with his skilled ministrations. He gauged your need, asking, "You want more? You think you can take one more?" Your head bobbed in a fervent affirmation, your eyes filled with a mixture of longing and anticipation. Without hesitation, he introduced a second finger, and your body reacted with a surge of pleasure mixed with a hint of discomfort—a delicious sensation that heightened your desire.

Closing your eyes to savor the pleasure coursing through you, you felt Joel's fingers expertly moving within you. The sensation of them crossing and spreading you wide sent intoxicating shivers down your spine, a tantalizing preview of what was to come. His mouth remained devoted to your neglected clit, lavishing it with attentions that drove you wild.

"I've got to prepare you real good, angel," Joel breathed, his voice husky with need. "You've got to be spread wide to take all of me. I ain't like one of those DC boys you’re used to." His words, a potent mix of promise and possession, sent a thrill through you. "Yes, yes, yes, Joel," you pleaded, your voice aching with desire. "Spread me, make me ready for you."

A knowing smirk curved Joel's lips as he introduced a third finger, a hint of pain deliciously mingling with the intense pleasure, intensifying the sensations that rocked your body. "So good, angel," he moaned breathlessly. “Joel, I’m gonna…” “Yes, come for me, angel. Please come for me right now!" His encouragement was all it took, and you shattered into euphoria like never before. Explosions of white dusted your vision as you felt yourself gush around Joel’s fingers, which continued their relentless rhythm inside you. Your body tensed and then went limp, as if weightless.

When you opened your eyes again, Joel's gaze met yours. He was lapping at his fingers with an obscenely indulgent expression, making your body tingle with renewed desire. "You taste delicious, like the sweetest honey," he purred. A groan of need escaped your lips as you reached for him, your hands eager to explore. "Please, Joel."

"Do you want me, Angel? Do you want me to take care of you?" he asked, his voice a seductive blend of desire and tenderness. You nodded, and as Joel started to take off his shirt he suddenly stopped in his track “Fuck, I don’t have condoms.” He brought his hands to his face in a movement of frustration.

 A soft smile graced your lips as you moved closer to him, your face now level with his taunt stomach. With gentle reverence, you pressed a soft kiss against his skin, just above his waistband.

"If you trust me, Joel," you began softly, “I got tested after I found out Bryan was cheating, and everything came back clear." Your words hung between the two of you as Joel realized what you were offering.

Joel's reaction was swift and intense. His hand gripped your jaw firmly, his eyes ablaze with a mixture of protectiveness and possessiveness. "Don’t say that piece of shit's name when you're in my bed, angel," he growled, his voice laced with a raw edge. The shiver that ran down your spine was both a thrill and a reminder of his complex emotions.

"Come here," Joel commanded his voice a blend of authority and strength. Eager to comply, you shifted closer to him, a fire of anticipation burning in your veins. Slowly, Joel started to guide you back down onto the bed, his hands moving with a purpose that matched the intensity of his desire.

"I want to look at your face when you come on my cock," he murmured, his words sending a shiver of longing down your spine. Anticipation pooled in the pit of your stomach as you locked eyes with him, feeling the weight of his gaze on you.

With deliberate movements, Joel began to undo his jeans, freeing his long and thick cock from its confines. The sight of him left you audibly gulping, a mixture of want and anticipation coursing through your veins. You couldn't help but wonder about the sensations, the weight, the pleasure that his size would bring.

"Can I put it in my mouth?" you asked, your eagerness apparent in your voice. Joel chuckled, his laughter a low and intimate sound that sent another wave of desire crashing over you. "Not tonight, angel," he responded, his tone both playful and commanding. "Tonight, I want to come in your pretty little pussy."

Joel's hands and lips explored your body with a relentless hunger, each touch igniting sparks of pleasure that coursed through your veins. Lost in the dance of passion, you found yourself swept away in a symphony of sensations, the symphony building to a crescendo of ecstasy that left you breathless and yearning for more.

In one swift, delicious motion, you felt Joel's firm length slip inside you. The sensation was both intense and electrifying, and you couldn't help but close your eyes and let out a loud moan of pleasure as he stretched you open in the most pleasurable way.

"Oh shit, angel, you're so damn tight," Joel groaned, his voice laced with desire and amazement at the sensation. You couldn't hold back your response, your own voice a mixture of bliss and disbelief. "Oh my god, Joel, that's because you're so fucking big!"

With deliberate slowness, Joel began to move his hips, creating a rhythm that was both torturously slow and exquisitely pleasurable. His gaze remained fixed on your face, his eyes locking onto yours with a passionate intensity that sent shivers down your spine. The intimacy of the moment, the raw connection between your bodies, fueled the flames of desire that burned between you.

"Please, Joel, you have to move faster, please, I'm begging you," you implored.

A smirk tugged at the corner of Joel's lips as he teased, "If I go faster, you're gonna make this old man come way too quick, angel."

"I don't care," you gasped, your need overpowering any sense of patience, "you have to move, please!"

"As you wish," Joel responded with a sly grin, and in the blink of an eye, the slow and deliberate rhythm transformed into a furious, unrelenting pace. His hips met yours fiercely, each movement driving you to the edge of your senses. Your heart raced, pounding in your chest like a wild drumbeat, and for this moment, nothing else mattered except the intense connection between you and Joel. The world outside faded away as you were consumed by the sensations of pleasure and desire, lost in the intoxicating dance of your bodies moving as one.

The tight coil of tension within you wound tighter and tighter with each fervent movement, aching to be released. The desperate need for release surged through your veins until you couldn't hold it any longer.

"OH MY GOD, JOEL, I'M GONNA COME AGAIN!" you cried out, your voice a mixture of ecstasy and urgency.

"Fuck, me too, angel, I'm gonna cum," Joel groaned, his voice heavy with need. "Please, you have to come with me, please, Angel!"

"Oohh my goddd, I'm cum..." Your sentence was left unfinished as the intense wave of pleasure crashed over you, shattering the tight coil and setting your senses on fire. Simultaneously, Joel's hips stuttered against yours, and you felt the warmth of his release inside you.

"Fuckkk," Joel whispered against your throat, his breath hot and ragged, as both of you rode out the waves of bliss, your sweaty bodies entwined and sated.

"That was..." you began, your voice trailing off as you searched for words to capture the intensity of what you had just shared.

"It sure was," Joel finished, his voice carrying a mixture of satisfaction and amusement. ****

You let out a hearty laugh, the tension of the moment dissolving into light giggles, as Joel momentarily left the room. While you lay there, still basking in the aftermath of your pleasure, he returned with a warm towel and a glass of water. He handed you the glass, and then, with gentle care, he began to clean you up. Your body was still sensitive from the climax, and you instinctively squirmed under his touch, but Joel held you in place.

"None of that, angel," he chided softly, his eyes warm and reassuring. "Gotta make sure you're all cleaned up. Lemme take care of ya."

His words and the softness of his touch melted away any remaining tension, and you found yourself yielding to his gentle care. You let go, allowing him to attend to you in this tender and intimate way. Once he was finished, he guided you back onto the bed and gathered you into his broad arms. A smile played on his lips as he pressed a gentle kiss against the nape of your neck. You closed your eyes, feeling a sense of serenity wash over you.

"Sleep now, my angel," he whispered, his voice a soothing murmur in your ear. "We'll talk in the morning."

With his strong arms wrapped around you, you nestled into his embrace, finding comfort and warmth in his presence. Your eyes closed naturally, the weight of the day's events and the embrace of his body lulling you into a peaceful slumber.

The morning greeted you with the cheerful chirping of birds, their song gently coaxing you awake. Blinking your eyes open, you realized Joel's form wasn't beside you in the bed. You reached for his discarded shirt on the floor, wrapping it around yourself before quietly slipping out of the room. As you stood before the bathroom mirror, your reflection showed the aftermath of a passionate night: tousled hair, eyes still bearing traces of desire, and lips that bore the marks of fervent kisses. A satisfied smile tugged at your lips as you grabbed the toothpaste, relishing the refreshing feeling as you brushed your teeth.

After tidying up a bit, you descended the stairs, your senses greeted by the delicious scent of cooking. Following the aroma, you entered the cozy kitchen where a rustic-looking pan held sizzling bacon and eggs. The scene was comforting, but there was no sign of Joel. As you scanned the room, the soft strains of a melody drifted in from outside, drawing your attention.

Curious, you made your way toward the source of the music, stepping outside to find Joel sitting on the porch swing. He held the acoustic guitar you had spied last night on the wall, his fingers moving deftly across the strings to produce a gentle tune that seemed to blend harmoniously with the morning breeze. You leaned against the railing beside him, listening intently to the music.

Joel paused his melody and turned his gaze toward you, his lips curling into a soft smile. "That was beautiful," you offered gently, "What were you playing?"

Joel's smile widened as he motioned for you to join him. "You inspired me last night," he confessed. "I had these melodies in my head, and I just had to play them." Your lips curved into a smile as you leaned in for a kiss. "That's unexpectedly romantic," you teased, causing Joel to chuckle. "Romantic, huh? Never been accused of that before," he playfully responded. "Are you hungry?" he asked. "Starving," you replied, a rumble of hunger confirming your words.

Joel's laughter filled the air as he gently set the guitar aside and guided you back indoors. He motioned for you to take a seat at the spacious wooden table, his warm smile inviting. He playfully swatted your hands away as you attempted to help, his touch grounding and reassuring. "Let me serve you, angel," Joel whispered softly as he settled you into a chair.

As Joel expertly portioned out the eggs onto your plate, you admired the beautiful table before you. "This table is stunning," you remarked, inspecting the grain of the hard oaken wood "I've always dreamed of having a big wooden table. Somewhere to have all my family and friends and have big dinners." Joel's smile held a touch of nostalgia. "Yeah, me too. That's why I built it."

"Wait, you built this?" you exclaimed, surprised. "Is there anything you can't do?" His laughter was infectious, and he shook his head playfully. “Just eat ya eggs." You smile happily in response before digging in.

A comfortable silence settled between the two of you as you happily munched on your meal. "This is really good, thank you, Joel," you said with genuine gratitude. Joel's smile was warm, yet his gaze seemed to drift elsewhere, lost in thought. You observed him from the corner of your eye, curious about what was going on in his mind.

After a moment, Joel pushed his half-eaten plate of eggs aside and made his way over to you. Without a word, he grasped the back of your chair and turned it toward him, causing you to let out a surprised "Joel!" as you were suddenly lifted from the chair. He settled down, pulling you onto his lap, holding you close.

You chuckled softly, noting, "Breakfast's gonna get cold..." But Joel's response was immediate, his voice a whisper against your collarbone, "I don't care. Need to be close to ya, angel." You felt yourself melting into his embrace, content and cherished.

You closed your eyes, savoring the sensation of being enveloped by Joel's arms. Inhaling his masculine scent deeply, you wanted to imprint it in your memory, wanting to hold onto every detail of this moment. You never wanted to forget the way he made you feel. As Joel's hand gently traced patterns on your back, his lips pressed soft, feathery kisses along your neck, causing a contented sigh to escape your lips.

In that instant, you realized that in just one day, Joel had managed to make you feel safer and happier than your four-year relationship with Bryan ever did. "Joel," you timidly began, your voice a fragile thread. "Hmmm, what is it, angel?" Joel's response was gentle, encouraging you to continue. "About what you told me last night… About Sarah…" His sigh against your neck was heavy, and you gathered your courage for what you wanted to say next. "I just wanted to say that I'm sorry for what happened to her. It wasn't fair."

"Angel…" You guided Joel's face up from its hiding place in your bosom, holding it between your hands to meet his eyes. "Sarah loved you, Joel. And she knew you loved her. She wouldn't want to see her father suffer alone like this."

Joel's eyes bore into yours, a mix of frustration and protectiveness. "Angel, please stop." But you couldn't hold back; not after last night, not after seeing him this morning with the guitar, not after he pried open and emptied the chest of feelings that you had buried deep in your heart. "Joel, I don't want to argue. I know we've only just met, but I can see the kind of person you are. And I might not know a lot about you, but I know that you don't deserve to keep punishing yourself. You deserve to be happy."

Your fingers brushed against his face tenderly as your eyes glistened with tears, your plea carrying all the sincerity you could muster. However, Joel only gently lifted you from his lap and set you down on the chair. He turned to walk away from the kitchen, but before leaving the doorway, he paused. "Finish your eggs, and when you're done, it might be best if you leave." His words were heavy and definitive.

The atmosphere grew icy as your eyes welled up with tears. "Better for you, you mean," you muttered bitterly, pushing the plate of eggs aside and standing up. "I'll get out of your way right now, Joel. I'm sorry for overstaying my welcome." Without waiting for a response, you swiftly moved past him, your heart aching as the tears streamed down your face, not wanting him to see how vulnerable you felt. How much his words had hurt you deep within your bones. Not even your ex-boyfriend cheating had hurt as much as Joel’s words.

Hastily, you ascended the stairs, feeling a mixture of confusion, hurt, and urgency. Joel's shirt clung to your skin as you moved, a reminder of the passionate night you had shared. With hurried hands, you peeled the shirt off, folding it and placing it on the bed with a mix of sadness and longing. Slipping into your clothes, you realised how they were dry and carried a faint, comforting clean scent. It dawned on you that Joel must have taken the time to wash and dry them while you were still asleep. The small act of care spoke volumes, tugging at your heartstrings even harder as your emotions threatened to overwhelm you.

A soft sob escaped your lips as you quickly pulled on your leggings and t-shirt. The pain within you intensified, a heavy weight on your chest that made it hard to breathe. Your fingers trembled as you fumbled to button up your shirt, your mind racing with a mix of regret and confusion. Every touch, every moment, seemed to replay in your mind like a whirlwind of emotions that you couldn't make sense of. Your breath came in ragged gasps, and the room felt stifling as you imagined Joel's hands, his lips, all over you.

Each second that passed felt like an eternity, the need to escape growing more urgent by the second. You couldn't bear the idea of staying in this place any longer, not when your heart and mind were in such turmoil. Your head spun as you gathered your belongings, your thoughts a jumble of conflicting feelings. With shaky hands, you grabbed your bag and moved toward the bedroom door, your heart racing and your vision blurred by unshed tears. It was as if the walls themselves were closing in on you, suffocating you with memories and emotions that you couldn't yet fully process.

You quickly made your way down the stairs and you quickly reached the entrance of the cabin, your hand gripped the doorknob, the exit just a twist away. But then, like a lifeline thrown to your drowning form, Joel's voice cut through the tension-laden air. "Wait," he implored. For a moment, you could have pulled the door open and walked away, sparing yourself the pain that seemed inevitable. But something in his voice, something in the way he had said it, made you hesitate, your fingers tensing on the handle.

"Please wait," Joel's voice, gentle and soft, reached your ears, halting your movement. His words were like a fragile confession, tinged with regret and vulnerability. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that. It's just... it still hurts so much, and I can’t do anything about it. I don't even know if I wanna do anythin' 'bout it! If I stop hurtin, it ain't fair to her, it's like 'm forgettin' her. My babygirl. I can't... I can't be the man you need me to be. You're young, and you'll find something much better than a washed-up singer, a father that’s always gonna be haunted by the ghost of his daughter. I'm carrying too much baggage, And I ain’t  worth the pain I know I’ll cause ya angel.” Frozen in place, you listened to his words, his admission of hurt and fear, his belief in his own unworthiness all washed over you, leaving you empty and oh so sad for the man in front of you.

With your back still turned toward him, your grip on the doorknob loosened. You could feel your heart aching for him. You closed your eyes, attempting to blink away the tears that threatened to fall, your breathing ragged and unsteady.

You took a steadying breath, turning slightly toward him, though you couldn't bring yourself to meet his gaze. In a voice that was stronger than you felt, you spoke your truth "Joel, it's not about what baggage you have or don’t have. It's everything that’s happened since yesterday, how we make each other feel. And last night... it meant something to me. I don't need you to be something you're not. I just want you to be who you are, because that person is worth something to me."

You swallowed hard, your throat tight with emotion. "I can't pretend to understand everything you've been through, Joel. But I can see the person you are, the one who's been through pain but is still standing here. You deserve happiness too, Joel. You're not defined by your past, and you're not just a has-been singer or whatever it is you impose on yourself. You're Joel, and you're worth more than you realize."

A tear escaped your closed eyes, tracing a path down your cheek. With a determined step forward, you pulled the door open, your voice steady despite the vulnerability you felt. "Take care of yourself, Joel," you whispered. With that, you stepped out onto the threshold, the cool breeze against your skin offering a stark contrast to the warmth of the cabin. The door clicked shut behind you, a gentle sound that marked the end of a moment that had touched your heart so deeply. And as you walked away, you didn't look back, hoping that Joel's own journey would guide him to a place of healing and acceptance.

Three months had drifted by since the night when Joel's presence swept into your life, like a gentle breeze altering the course of a quiet stream. The echo of his words still lingered in your mind, painting the canvas of your memories with vivid strokes of vulnerability and tenderness. As you slid into the cocoon of your car that night, the world outside felt different, as if reality itself had taken on a new hue.

Driving away from the cabin nestled in the heart of the woods, you found your plans melting away, leaving behind a blank slate that you were now eager to fill with Joel's presence. But you knew he had his own journey to embark upon – a journey toward reconciliation with his past, a voyage of healing that no one else could undertake for him. You couldn't help but hope, perhaps even naively, that the currents of life would someday guide him back to you. It was an uncertain prospect, but then again, your whole life had become a cascade of the unexpected.

After first leaving behind the familiar landscape of DC, and wandering the country for some time, you found yourself meandering down unfamiliar roads that led you to the vibrant city of Austin. Amid the soulful melodies and friendly faces, you decided to step into a music store, compelled by the yearning to connect with Joel on some level, even if he wasn’t physically there with you.

Inside, the air was stuffy as if the shop had been forgotten by the residents of Austin. Rows of albums beckoned to you, as you look around for the country section. Descriptions were exchanged with a middle-aged cashier, who turned out to be a rather passionate fan of Joel and who guided you to the shelves where most of Joel Miller's discography was. For you, it was like hearing the life of the man you think you might very well love. As you left the store, the weight of those albums in your arms was more than just a collection; it was a tangible piece of the bond you shared with a stranger who had become so much more.

With Joel's music filling the airwaves of your trusty Honda Civic, you embarked on the next leg of your journey, leaving Austin behind and setting your sights on the vibrant landscape of Los Angeles. The roads stretched out before you, winding through varied terrains like the unwritten chapters of a story waiting to unfold. Each curve and bend felt like a step toward a new beginning, guided by the soulful tunes that had become the backdrop of your life.

As you navigated LA's bustling streets, you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and anticipation. The sprawling landscapes seemed to mirror the vast possibilities that awaited you in this city of dreams. The skyline glittered with promise, like a tapestry woven from the aspirations of countless dreamers who had walked these streets before you. With each passing mile, you allowed yourself to be swept away by the energy of the city, ready to embrace whatever adventures lay ahead.

Amidst the hustle and bustle, you found your place in a small yet energetic communication company. It was a far cry from the monotonous work you had left behind in DC. Here, you were tasked with crafting communication campaigns for non-profit organizations across California. The challenges were real and the work was hard, but the rewards were immeasurable. Your days were now filled with purpose and creativity, and you felt a genuine connection to the causes you were championing. It was as if you had finally found the missing piece that had been absent from your previous life. Like you had found your drive back.

2 months into the job, your coworker Amanda's loud shrilly voice pulled your attention away from your work, her words cutting through the office buzz. "Hey, you're the one who's into Country music, right?" She grinned, her eyes twinkling with curiosity. You chuckled softly, not exactly an expert on the genre but you supposed you did listen to more Country then you used to these days.

"Yep, that's me," you replied, offering a small nod.

Amanda leaned in a little closer, her voice lowered as if sharing a secret, "I've noticed you play Joel Miller's older albums. Is he your favourite or something?"

You smiled softly, realizing your tradition hadn't gone unnoticed. "Yeah, I have a soft spot for his music," you admitted with a shrug.

Her grin turned into a mischievous smile, "Well, guess what? He just dropped a new song. Have you heard?"

Your heart skipped a beat. "A new song?!" you echoed, genuine surprise lacing your words, heartbeat treatening to send you into a heart attack.

Amanda pulled out her phone, her fingers dancing across the screen before she handed it to you. The screen was illuminated by what you deciphered as some tweets and posts, all buzzing with excitement about Joel's latest EP release. Your eyes widened as you scrolled through the tweets, feeling a mixture of excitement washed over you.

With a grin, you glance at Amanda, appreciating her tip, before returning to your workstation. Settling in, you tried your best to steady your breath as you open the article on TMZ and locate the link that directs you to Joel Miller's freshly released track on his SoundCloud. Your cursor hovers over the link, anticipation rising making you feel buzzed. Clicking the link, you're instantly engulfed in a cascade of harmonies. The initial notes carried on the wings of a soft guitar, weave a delicate tapestry of sound that threads its way through your senses. It's like stepping into a forgotten memory, the strums of the guitar bringing you back inside the cabin and into Joel’s arms.

And then, Joel's voice joins the strumming of the guitar. A tender baritone, it carries the weight of longing and sadness, each note reverberating with the depth of his life. The rawness of it tugs at your heartstrings, and you can’t help the tears forming in your eyes. With each note, it's as though Joel is speaking directly to you, his presence palpable despite the distance. You close your eyes, allowing the music to sweep you away, the gentle strumming and resonant vocals painting a vivid scene in your mind;

I can’t stop thinking about you

I can't escape your memory's grasp,

My angel, you're etched within my soul so fast.

I yearn to become the man you envision,

Unveiling depths within, a heartfelt mission.

For you, for you alone,

This version of me, yet to be known.

As the soothing timbre of Joel's voice envelops you, he navigates the tapestry of emotions with his lyrics. His soft voice carries the weight of promises and aspirations, mingling with the bittersweet tinge of guilt and the fervent pull of desire. It's a symphony of feelings entwined in each note, a raw portrayal of the battles raging within him. He sings of uncertainty, a man grappling with the enigma of his own identity. Yet, amidst the chaos, there's a constant, an unwavering North Star – the presence of his angel. The lyrics paint a portrait of yearning and unspoken desires, his admission that even amid the turmoil, your memory is an anchor he can't escape. His voice, like a gentle hand, guides you through the labyrinth of his feelings, allowing you to glimpse the depths of his soul. And as the final note fades, it's as if his heart has been laid bare, an intimate portrait of a man searching for solace and finding it in the memory of his angel – you.

Tears gather in your eyes as the song reaches its poignant conclusion. Joel's heartfelt words resonate with the depths of your emotions, and the floodgates of your own feelings burst open. Each note, each lyric, is a testament to his pain, his struggles, and the love that has bloomed during the short encounter you had.

As the music fades, your tears flow freely, a river for the man who has touched your heart so profoundly. You could feel your coworkers casting puzzled glances your way, but in this moment, their opinions mean nothing. You wept for the unfairness of his life, you wept for the loss of his little Sarah, and you wept for the years he's spent punishing himself. You weep because you love Joel Miller. Your heart aches for the man who entered your life on that stormy night and left a mark deep within your soul. Etching his name into the very essence of your being.

Your mom had always said, "The future holds its secrets close" and now you couldn't help but agree. A year ago, you would have never imagined that you would find yourself in LA, away from old friends and family. Yet you couldn't remember a time when you had been more content. Except maybe when you had been in Joel's arms in the warmth of his cabin. But now, as you restart the song Joel had written and as you lose yourself in the warm timber of his voice, you feel happy. Joel's baritone promising that he would love his angel as best as the damaged man he was could love. As you let yourself be carried by the softness of his voice, you know that whatever happens, you'll never part ways with Joel again. You know that wherever he is, he will find you, and you’ll be able to take him in your arms and hold him close to you.

You smile; after all, Joel had just delcared his love for you to the world, his declaration intended for all to hear. And as Joel's voice serenaded you with vows of love and protection, soothing you to your core, you made a promise of your own to Sarah. You promised her that you would care for her father, that you'd stand by him and that you would love him until their eventual reunion, following what you hope would be a beautiful life richly lived.

#pedrostories1k #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro boys #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fandom #joel miller x you #joel tlou #joel x reader #joel the last of us #joel miller x reader #joel miller #the last of us smut #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us #smut #angst #tw death #tw mention of death #mentioned of attempted suicide #hurt/comfort #no protection #tlou series #tlou smut #tlou fanfiction #tw sex mention #tw self destructive behavior #tw self sabotage #tw selfhate #tw age gap #tw age difference

[peeta-is-useless]

I have no time to write my ideas, but here are some for the general public(The Last of Us)-

Western AU with no outbreak, but Joel still has to haul Ellie across the country anyways

DWTS AU where Joel is a retired country singer who Tommy bullied into going on Dancing With the Stars

Tag me if this inspires anything because I would love to read<3

Currently working on a ballerina!reader x Tommy Miller so we’ll see what happens :)

#the last of us #joel miller x reader #joel and ellie #tlou au #tlou #joel miller #ellie williams #tommy miller x reader

[kedsandtubesocks]

Let’s Rodeo: A Multi Fic Series Masterlist

Howdy! I blame rodeo season starting because it had me itching to write and now here we are lol! This is my first ever fic series so I’m nervous, excited, grateful and appreciative to anyone deciding to take a peek into this little universe. These will be three separate & different fics based on three different stories that center on or around cowboys, the rodeo / fairgrounds events, and mainly - the whirlwind that comes with it all…

Now, let’s enjoy this wild ride together, yeah?

The opening act coming soon!

✦ “cowboys like us” | Bull Rider!Din Djarin x Reader x Bronco Rider!Jack Daniels

Two cowboys so different in personalities and spirit, which way will the rodeo take you?

The main event up next!

✦ “you, my golden hour” | Post Season 3 Rancher!Javier Peña x Cowgirl!Reader

How can the Texas sun and rodeo be so blistering when it brings you back to a man like him?

The closing act, the grand finale!

✦ “dance away your cowboy blues” | Country Singer!Joel Miller x Reader

What will you do when you discover your ex is one of the Rodeo’s headliner performers?

Special thanks to these lovely folks (you each get a back stage pass of course lol) I truly appreciate you incredible babes and can’t sum up my gratitude enough: @lowlights @perotovar @beskarandblasters @morallyinept @nothoughtsjustmeds / @isengards @haylzcyon

And again to anyone who takes interest - thank you, you’re one in a million! Now let’s rodeo!

#idk how to tag this but AHHHH!! #let’s rodeo fic series

[airiat]

northern sky, six. ✧˚ · .

{masterlist | beginning}

pairing: joel miller x you / f!reader (wc: 35.3k, 10 chapters)

rating: explicit, 18+

work tags: no outbreak, age difference (27/42), hurt/comfort, ptsd, fate, ldr, explicit sexual content (rough/romantic sex, light d/s & sadomasochism, dirty talk, choking/biting, oral (f & m receiving), unprotected piv, aftercare)

work warnings: themes of death (more details here, contains spoilers), depictions of mental illness/alcoholism, light discussion of theoretical relationship with minor (not condoned by either party), light blood kink

ch. summary: he'll never let you fall.

{ao3}

six. {2.1k}

Your laugh is a bright thing in the heavy steam of the bathroom shower, where you freshen up together before your date. Your date. Joel’s just told you that if you make him listen to Kelly Clarkson for even a second longer, he’ll start singing along. And you don’t want that. Apparently. You think that you actually might want to witness that spectacle. 

“Well, how do ya know the words, huh?” you question, rubbing your neck with a washcloth. “I bet you’re a secret fan.”

Joel pauses with his hands on his face mid-scrub, gives you a look like a soldier who’s seen war. “Sarah’s first breakup. Swear I didn’t hear a single other song for a week straight.”

The acoustics of the shower seduce you. You grin at him, sing, “‘Time cast a spell on you / but you won't forget me / I know I could've loved you / but you would not let me.’” Just like you would have in the bowels of your angst. “That was mine,” you say.

He tilts his head at you, squinting through the water. “Hey, you’re not half bad.”

“‘Half bad,’” you scoff. “You some kinda, like, singing expert?”

“I used to wanna be a, uh, country singer, actually,” Joel tells you, suddenly very preoccupied with achieving the perfect amount of shampoo. He still squirts out too much.

“Really?” you ask, eager surprise in your voice. The thought of it is captivating. Decidedly alluring. Him up on a stage, crooning with a guitar at his hip. Yes. “Sing something, then.”

“Play a song I actually like, and then we’ll see,” he shoots back.

You laugh, reach out of the shower curtain to your iPod in its dock on the counter. When you click the button for the next song, one certainly plays: something sultry and spellbinding, a beat that perfects the rhythm for–

Large hands grip your hips, pulling you back against the hot wet of his body. “Nothin’ about this song meant for singing.” 

You gulp, feel your face flush. It was on shuffle. You couldn’t have known it’d be this song…For one, for someone / for he, for she. You wouldn’t have picked it. It’s too brazen. But Joel brings you closer, and you feel him already hard. And then the flush travels downward, has you tipping your head back on his shoulder. 

“Been so worried about bad music and my goddamn hair that I didn’t even think of what I could do with you standin’ here naked,” he says in a low voice that cuts the cascade of water. “Fool I am.”

“Fool you are,” you echo, eyes fluttering. 

One hand stays at your hip, the other travels to stroke the column of your throat. “Now, how am I gonna make it up to you, darlin’, hm?”

You suck in a sharp breath as he palms a breast, pinches your nipple between two fingers. “Any way you want,” you rasp. 

“Nuh-uh, you’re gonna use your words, ain’t you, baby?”

“You can make it up—” you moan softly as his hand moves to the dip in your stomach “—by…you can just fuck me, Joel.”

“Just like that?”

You nod against his shoulder. “Please.” 

Joel groans and kisses you open-mouthed on your jaw.

Then, he wraps an arm over your waist and helps you bend over, leaves his other hand to guide your hips to where he can push into you. You’re pulled to your tiptoes, back melded into his chest. “I’m not gonna let you fall,” he murmurs into your ear.

And you’re certain that you could drop your body into the cradle of his one arm, and he wouldn’t even flinch. Because when he enters you, you gasp, fall slack against him, and he’s as solid as stone. You press your hands against the wet tile of the wall, but it’s only there for you to claw at, to give your animal someplace to go. 

Joel’s hips snap behind yours, not rough, but still crude, like his mind was sliced from his body, knows only how it all feels. You like him this way, if the melody of your moans is any indication. What feels the best for him is what makes your blood sing. Your body, boneless and pliant, reaches out for the resolution,

only to have it snatched away.

You keen brokenly as he rips himself from you, grabbing blindly backward to keep him from moving away. But he’s already gone, already releasing you from his arms, and you’re scrambling for the tiles on the wall to keep from falling now. You’re ready to crack against porcelain, lost in the spray of hot water, but then he’s in front of you, holding you steady, letting you go slack against him once more.

“Joel,” you gasp, squeezing your eyes closed. “You were gonna let–let me–”

“I wasn’t, I promise, baby. I just needed to get out of you quick,” he soothes, holding his hand to the waterfall of your hair. “Had you the whole time.”

Your breath comes in short pulls, but nothing tells you not to believe him. You didn’t fall. You’re here in his arms, so you blink your eyes open and look up at him. “I wish–I wish you didn’t stop. It felt good, y’know, before,” you tell him.

Joel kisses you, leans his forehead against yours. “Can I make you come, darlin’? Make you feel even better?”

The mellow but still heavy opening guitar of the next song drowns out your sharp inhale, so you nod instead. He takes a small step back, sinks to his knees, lets his hands slide down your body until he’s lifting your foot up and setting it on the tub's edge. The muscles in your stomach tighten when you realize what’s coming, have you reaching for him and bracing yourself all at once.

He gazes up at you from your feet, grips you firmly by the back of your thigh. In the small space of the bathtub, he has to fold down his large frame, which makes him appear not lowly, but devoted. That he would crush himself, bend himself in such an uncomfortable way if only just for you.

I'll sing for you / If you want me to / I'll give to you / And it's a chance I'll have to take.

You’re so dizzy with the thought, with the music, that you barely hear him say, “You’re gonna have to help yourself some. Can you handle that, baby?”

You bite your lip and shove your arm into the recess of the small window in the shower, lean some of your weight onto it.

“Good girl,” you think Joel says, but it comes out as more of an indistinct rumble against your skin as he dips between your legs, licks a short stripe in the crease of your thigh. You choke and almost fold forward but manage to hold yourself upright. It was a test. He didn’t even hardly touch you, and you were ready to crumple to the floor. He’s paused, waiting for you to settle.

“I can do this, Joel,” you say in the strongest voice you can muster.

His only response is to softly drag his tongue down your center, to grab your thigh so tight that it aches. But if it’s meant to be a reminder, it works; the jolt of your body does not send you sprawling to the floor. You just grit your teeth through a moan, thread fingers into his hair, and hold yourself together.

And if it is a test, you’ve passed this one, too. Because the next flicks of his tongue over you are bold and unforgiving, mouth buried between your folds, lips closed over your bud. You would hold yourself as still as stone, refuse to even breathe, if you could only just have him like this forever, and then forever again. In fact, you probably wouldn’t be breathing if you didn’t need to make all the noises he pulls from you. Probably wouldn’t be moving if your traitorous body didn’t seize as lightning appears curled at the base of your spine, if you didn’t rock your hips over his mouth to pull it taut. 

Joel does attempt to hold you still with hands clenched around the soft flesh of your ass, but you fight him for movement, and he gives in easily. Maybe his hands are there more for himself than for you. Maybe it’s all just a little bit more for himself. Those starved moans that ricochet deep in your core. The arcs his tongue makes to taste every inch you present to him. You are just the fortunate vessel being offered up for consumption.

It doesn’t take you very much longer once you’ve harnessed that truth, understood that he will let you do anything except tear yourself away from him. You can pull his hair from its roots, grind yourself against his face and not worry about air. You are his air. It doesn’t take you very much longer, and then you’re there. The water from the shower pours over you as you stretch back and let the lightning crackle up your spine, fills your mouth as you gasp, and then break forward. 

You don’t fall so much as you simply become a boneless collection of limbs that cannot remain standing. It doesn’t hurt because Joel helps you, sits behind you, and arranges you between his legs in the tub. When he pushes the plunger to fill it, you blink and give your head a little shake. “Oh, how did I–?” you inquire, craning your neck to look back at him. 

You catch a quick smile before he leans forward and kisses your shoulder. “Told you I gotcha.”

“Yeah, you did,” you sigh softly, leaning back into him. “That was good, Joel.”

“Yeah? Good,” he replies, wrapping his arms loosely around your middle. “We should finish up; gonna run out of hot water.”

“My hair,” you groan. “I never washed it.”

“Lemme do it. Which bottle is it?”

You reach for the shampoo, the same one he had used, and hand it to him. You tell yourself that you won’t micromanage how he does it. You’re just going to allow yourself to be cared for. Pulling your knees to your chest, resting your head on top of them, you surrender. 

Actually, he’s not so bad at it. He works the shampoo through your scalp, fingers massaging it in. Spends a little too much time on the ends, maybe, but he makes it feel so nice that you can’t even care. Your eyes fall closed, and you give a quiet hum of contentment. 

After a few minutes, you feel him leave you very briefly, hear the water splash as he stands, and then returns. Warm water from the shower head pours over your head and down your back as he rinses your hair clean, cards through it so gently your chest clenches. You can’t even remember the other steps you’d usually do, the other products you’d use. You don’t care. Cheap bar soap would be enough if you could have his hands with it. 

The water leaves you, and then he pushes your hair aside to rub your back for a moment. “I think that’s about it,” Joel says, uncertain.

“Thank you,” you tell him softly. 

He helps you to your feet, then shuts the water off. You step out of the tub together, and he finds a towel for himself, another to drape around you. Like this, you feel so soft and small, as though your skin is made of roses. But he hasn’t made you helpless. It’s only just that he’s eased some of the heaviness from you. Even so, you find yourself reaching back out for it. You know how to walk the world with hunched shoulders, not squared ones.

“I’m gonna finish getting ready on my own, okay?” you tell him. “I won’t be long. You can just go watch TV or something if you want.”

He’s tucking the towel around his hips when he says, “Alright, darlin’. Come find me when you’re done.” He strokes your cheek with his thumb, then walks from the bathroom.

In the solitude, underneath the warm lights, you stare into the mirror with empty eyes framed by the wet strings of your hair. Watch yourself pick up your life’s weight from the dewy counter and settle it back around your shoulders. Your mantle to bear. Always. With or without him.

With a heavy sigh, you reach for a bottle of leave-in conditioner and pour too much of it into your hand. 

#i posted this late but fwiw it's always on time on ao3 #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #tlou fanfiction #my posts #my writing #sun & sky

[serpentthecrow]

Introduction

Hi! So, since I am getting into writing, I thought I might introduce myself a bit more!

So, to begin with, my name is Orion,Orie in short and I use they/she pronouns and I am queer! I live in Central Europe, and I am a student!

As for my writing, my requests are open 24/7. I am working on some requests rn, thank u btw, I will greatly appreciate your ideas/thoughts.(you can text me even with smh not related to fics) I write for the fandoms I know :) here are some I can think of:

~Grishaverse (Grisha trilogy, Six of crows duology,didn't finish king of scars yet. Nikolai, Alina, the darkling, Genya, David, Nina, Matthias, Kaz, Inej, Jesper, Wylan)

~The Sandman (Dream, Hob Gadling, desire, the Corinthian)

~Good omens (Crowley and Aziraphale- x reader pairing or crowley x Aziraphale. Polly relationship included.)

~The last of us (hbo) (Joel Miller, Tommy Miller, platonic!Ellie)

~Wednesday (Wednesday, Enid, Xavier, principal Wheems)

~Harry Potter (both golden and marauders era as well as Fantastic beasts) ( most characters)

~Marvel: (MCU) (most characters)

~ X- men (Professor X, Magneto, Mystique, Wolverine, Hank Mccoy, Peter Maximoff)

-DC : suicide squad 2016 (most characters), The Batman (both battinson and Bale!batman)

~Star wars (Obi wan Kenobi, Luke Skywalker, Han solo, Princess Leia, Ben solo, Din Djarin)

~Top gun Maverick (Pete 'Maverick' Mitchell, Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw, Jake 'Hangman' Seresin, Robert 'Bob' Floyd, Natasha 'phoenix' Trace.)

~ The Chronicles of Narnia (movies) (the kings and queens, prince Caspian)

~Howl's moving castle (Howl Jenkins Pendragon)

- games! For example:

Resident Evil (Leon S. Kennedy, Lady Dimitrescu, Karl Heisenberg, Chris Redfield)

God of war (2018,2022) (Kratos)

Alice: madness returns (Alice Liddel)

~ House of the Dragon ( basically all characters)

~Dune (Paul Atreides)

~ Miss Peregrine's home for peculiar children (movie)(Enoch O'Connor, Alma Peregrine)

~Alice in Wonderland (Mirana of marmoreal, the mad hatter)

~also books!

Three dark crowns ( Pyetyr Renard, Katherine, Arsinoe, Mirabella)

~i also write for celebrities (mostly actors of these characters, but even singers and stuff, just ask, I'll tell u if I'll write them)

~songfics(for any fandom mentioned)

~a lot of random characters! So if you have any character that is not here, you can try if I will write it!

Conditions:

I won't be writing smut (even tho I am of age in my country, you gotta wait a year)

Totally nothing with children ew (unless it's platonic)

No incest (unless it's House of the Dragon lmao)

There will be no pregnancy trope and reader won't have children unless it's asked for (I don't wike kids, sorry not sorry)

I will write age-gap, as long as it's legal (yeah, I also had my Tony Stark phase dw)

NO professor x student relationships ew

I will write for fem, male and gender neutral readers

Lmk if you want me to include 'y/n' or not.

If you want the reader to be for example blonde, plus size, brown eyes or have any other specific features, let me know! :) (Also, in cases of top gun if you want a specific call sign)

If there is a specific trope/dialogue prompt on you mind, don't be shy, I'll write it!

I will write poly relationships (poly marauders I'm looking at you)

These lists might be edited through time

I don't own, or claim to own any of the characters.

#grishaverse x reader #the sandman x reader #the last of us x reader #wednesday x reader #harry potter x reader #mcu x reader #avengers x reader #x men x reader #batman x reader #star wars x reader #top gun maverick x reader #narnia x reader #resident evil x reader #hotd x reader #mphfpc x reader

[mariasabanahabanabana]

And just because once again I find myself bored (as if I hadn't homework to do). Your favorite section returns...

✨Which Taylor Swift album gives me vibes "The last of us" characters✨

(I still can't sleep, kkkk)

1.- Tommy, soy un hombre de rancho, botas y a caballo, Miller (Tommy, I'm a ranch man, boots and horseback, Miller) - Debut

The man was - is the stereotype of an average Texan (Raza from Texas, don't ban me) someone who rides a horse, with his hat, who loves country music, someone who for some reason or another knows how to play the guitar perfectly and make carnitas asadas ( roast beef ) on Sundays after church.

2.- Joel, Finish Raising Me, Sheep Shepherd, Uncertified Country Musician and Singer, Miller - Fearless (and no, no, this is not by order)

Although he could also be a man on horseback and boots, it's also worth remembering that he 💀💀💀 half of the fireflies (and not, I'm not talking Abt the species).), a cult of carnivores and how many people will cross their Path or goals... (Actually, I think if they had shown us what it was like before meeting Ellie and blah, blah, blah life would be more creep)

3.- Sarah Miller - Speak now

I meeeeean, even her shirt screams it from the 4 winds... BTW, again, Sarah's headcanon, she would have been a fan of Taylor Swift, I've no proof but no doubt either...

4.- Tess, it wasn't your time yet, finish raising me X2, my biggest mummy issues, Seveepoulos - Red (The years may pass and I'll never write - say's correctly her last name)

*breathe heavy and slow * I don't think there's a need to explain it... (BTW, the explanation that the director - showrunner and voice actor of Joel in the video games gave in the podcast break me like a promise)

#the last of us #the last of us hbo #tlou hbo #tlou #tommy miller #Tommy Miller + Taylor Swift #Tommy Miller + Debut #Tommy Miller + Taylor Swift Álbum #Tommy Miller + Debut Álbum #Joel Miller #Joel Miller + Taylor Swift #Joel Miller + Fearles #Joel Miller + Taylor Swift álbum #Joel Miller + Fearless Álbum #Joel Miller + Fearless Álbum (TV) #Tess Seveepoulos #Tess Seveepoulos + Taylor Swift #Tess Seveepoulos + Red #Tess Seveepoulos + Taylor Swift álbum #Tess Seveepoulos + Red Album #Tess Seveepoulos + Red Album (TV) #sarah miller #Sarah Miller + Taylor Swift #Sarah Miller + Taylor Swift álbum #Sarah Miller + Speak now álbum #Sarah Miller + Speak now album (TV) #taylor swift debut #red tv #fearless taylor’s version #speak now taylor's version

[aloha-spirit]

Midnight in Austin - a new series!

This idea planted itself in my head recently after reading the most amazing fanfics on here! So Im putting it out there - it wont be the best but here we go.. Non Outbreak AU Joel X f!reader

Age gap (reader 27, Joel 36)

Maegan Delores is back in Texas after the abrupt end to her record deal following the death of her fiancé. To escape her mothers over zealous attempts at cheering her up and worried glances, she decides to get back out there with a string of gigs at a dive bar in Austin where Tommy Miller, an old friend and his older brother Joel frequently drink. Joel has his own past with heartbreak and a teenage daughter to raise on his own. Through it all Joel and Mae fall for each other by the end of date one but will a second chance at love be pitch perfect or fall flat...

Warnings: Smut, Angst, mild violence, Soft Joel Mae's songs are presented as her own but come from some of my favourite country/folk/country rock singers, other chapters inspired by some of my favourite songs  

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #tlou #pedro pascal #joel tlou #the last of us

[tlou-1]

Joel x Reader - Home (Chapter 9)

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6| Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13| Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19 TBA

Note - This chapter is bit of a long one (sorry) and the songs mentioned are Give In to Me from Country Strong and Take on Me by Aha.

On a cool Autumn afternoon, you are sat on the sofa of Joel’s house playing guitar with Ellie. She is most extraordinary kid you had came across and you had come to love her. From the witty remarks and one liners, to the enthusiasm when she spoke about her comics or something new she had learned and wanted to share with you and Joel.

Joel arrives home and is kicking off his boots “That’s starting to sound a lot better”

“Well between you and Ellie, I have got two pretty good teachers.” You say passing the guitar back to Ellie “Here you go kiddo, I’ve got to head”.

She sighs “Okay but we will see you later at the Tipsy Bison”. You nod to her silently smiling and remind her to get there for seven.

“Where you off to?” Joel asks. He had only just got back from a patrol, but you also had left Bruce in the house for too long before your shift tonight.

“Can’t you just bring him with you next time?” he asks, you can hear in his voice he is disappointed to not get to spend some time with you.

“I could, I never thought but I would need to bring all his thi-“” Joel cut you off before you can finish.

“Well why don’t you just bring him, his stuff and all of your stuff here…. And keep it here”

“Keep it here? Joel Miller are you asking me to move in with you” you playfully pinch at his hip but then you can see, he is serious.

“Can I think on it for a bit? It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s just I have lived in that house for a long time on my own – I just need” but Joel interrupts you again. “Hey, hey darlin” he begins in a soothing tone, smoothing his hands over your hair, taking your head in his hands. “Don’t worry, take as long as you need. I aint going anywhere”. He presses a light kiss to the top of your head.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Its just after seven when Joel and Ellie arrive at the bar, Ellie pulling Joel by the hand in a hurry in front of him. They take two seats and the bar, “and what can I get for you two this evening?” you chirp. Ellie orders an orange juice and Joel a beer but when you present him with a whiskey, he looks confused “I’m sorry Y/N to tell you this but that aint a beer” he says in a sarcastic tone.

“I know that I just think you might need it” you bat back as you push the glass closer to him. “Alright between Ellie dragging me here and you acting odd, what’s going on?” He gruff leaning back into the chair looking between you and Ellie, looking to see who would break first, you caved. Heading towards the wall where an array of musical instruments are secured to the wall, you pull a guitar from its stand and gesture to Joel to take it.

“You said when you were younger you always wanted to be a country singer. Now I know it’s not exactly the Grand Ole Opry in here, but I do think these folks would like to hear a bit of music, other than old Seth banging a tune out on the banjo” you smile. Joel begins to protest but you shove the guitar in his hands and fill his glass once more. “A bit of dutch courage and go get up there cowboy”. Ellie is at the back of Joel pushing him toward the front of the bar where one microphone sits. “God you’re a stubborn women” he sighs, looking at you and Ellie defeatedly.

“I thought that’s what you like about me”

“Mhm – well not when its used against me” he laughs but stops as his mind seems to conjuring up some plan, “on the other hand. I do have an idea, don’t get mad and just remember I love you”.

“Evening folks – tonight I thought we could have a bit of music. Now I can play a bit of the guitar but there is a young woman in here who I think sings pretty good. Christ I think she’s something else if I am being honest. Y/N get yourself away from the bar and up here” Joel calls loudly from the microphone. This had totally and completely back fired and he was using flattery to make it worse. The entire bar begins to join in trying to coax you into signing. Molly and Ellie are cheering, Jesse is laughing knowing how uncomfortable you look, Tommy and Maria tap you on the shoulder “You can’t just leave the poor bastard standing up there” laughs Tommy. ‘You could’ you think to yourself.

You give everyone the biggest eye roll and fling your towel down annoyed “Fine – alright, alright! I’ll sing a damn song”. Joel is smiling cheekily at you when you stand next to him, only a small amount of space between you and a microphone. “I can see why you decided that was a good time to tell me you loved me for the first time. It’s the only reason I haven’t smashed that guitar over your head”. Joel lets his head back and laughs, he got you this time.  A couple seconds later he composes himself and he begins to sing his part.

“I’m gonna wear you down

I'm gonna make you see

I'm gonna get to you

You're gonna give into me

-

I'm gonna burn for you

You're gonna melt for me

Come on, come on

Give into me”

You feel your stomach do a double flip, a mixture of nerves and the way this man was looking at you. You seemed to bring out the best in each other, he would never have done this before, and you would never have done it on your own. It would have seemed so stupid with everything going on beyond the gates of Jackson but you seemed to be able to stop and enjoy the simple even frivolous things since meeting Joel. It must be what joy felt like you thought after years of forgetting to feel it.  You move in closer to the mic, your faces so close, to sing the next lines together.

“You're gonna take my hand

Whisper the sweetest words

And if you're ever sad

I'll make you laugh

I’ll chase the hurt

The song comes to an end, everyone gives a round of applause and you take an over-the-top bow. You make your way back to the bar and Joel begins to follow you when you stop in your tracks “and just where do you think your going?” you ask him, he still has the pick of his guitar in between his teeth and can’t respond. “I still want to watch you sing a song from the bar like I had planned”. You hear him try muttering something but its incoherent. You take your usual spot behind the bar as Tommy passes you a whiskey “I think you earned this’ he chuckles in his seat. “You think?” you laugh. Joel clears his throat, and you snap your attention back to him.

“Well let’s try something maybe some of us older ones will know” Joel scratches the back of his neck looking viably more uncomfortable without you there. You catch his eyes and silently mouth the words to him across the room “I love you”. He begins to play a familiar song but he has slowed it down, made it gentler. ‘Take on me by Aha” you think to yourself. Once he finishes everyone gives an applause and Joel couldn’t get to the back of the room quick enough. For spending his childhood dreaming of being a singer, he had become rather bashful in his adult years.

Joel heads behind the bar and passes the guitar to you, “Thank you” he says as you reach to hang it back on the wall “No, No thank you for keeping us folks entertained for the evening” you laughs trying goad him.

“Joel can you teach me that song you just played! I’d like to play it for Dina and my friends” Ellie smiles from her seat.

“Sure thing Kiddo” he chirps as he slings his arm around your shoulder, it was very rare you ever showed each other affection in public but after that performance in front of everyone it didn’t really matter. People could see you were together; they could see the way you looked at each other. You move to face him and lift his other arm around you so as that Joel is wrapped around you.

“I’ll start tomorrow” you smile at him, but he just looks confused

“You’ll start what?” He titles his head

“Moving my stuff across, I’ll start tomorrow. If you’ll still take me and Bruce” you smile warmly. Joel kisses you tenderly

“Baby I wanted you to live with us weeks ago” he laughs and kisses you on top of your head before moving closer to your ear so only you could hear him “and I meant it – I love you”.

“Would you to get a room” Ellie holds her hand up to try cover the sight of you both.

#TLOU #TLOU part 2 #Joel Miller #Joel Miller x Reader #Joel Miller Imagine #Joel Miller Series #Joel Miller Smut #Joel Miller Fluff #tlou p2 #The Last of Us #tlou fanfic #tlou fanart #The Last of Us Fanfic #tlou part 2 fanfic #tlou2 fanfic #The Last of Us part ii icons

[skottydawgblog]

Top 25 Albums of All Time

Scott Welsch

Criteria:

Every song on the album must be attractive for listening. No “skippers” on the album. No, “Eh, that song kinda sucks” on the album. *Greatest Hits albums ARE NOT acceptable for this list. (This rule devastates me, as it disqualifies Foo Fighters)

2. The album/music/lyrics should still be relevant (and listenable) today.

3. The artist can’t just be for a specific crowd or followers (e.g. Jimmy Buffet, Grateful Dead, Moody Blues, etc.).

4. There is no need for the album to have won any awards or previous recognition.

5. I could have easily made this a “Top 100”, but I have a life.

TOP TWENTY FIVE ALBUMS OF ALL TIME:

#25 Billy Joel — Glass Houses

I played this album at bedtime growing up. I listened to side one, flipped the album, then listened to side two until the needle lulled me to sleep by making the “click click” noise at the end of the record. The album features Billy Joel’s first song to reach #1 status on Billboard (Still Rock and Roll To Me).

#24 Guns n Roses — Appetite For Destruction

My best friend in the 80s said to me, “Have you heard of this new band?” and handed me a cassette tape (in 1987). I listened to the entire cassette from start to finish the first time, and thought to myself, “Oh, man. These guys are gonna be huge.” Sure enough, Guns n Roses became one of the best-known names in modern rock. Their debut album (Appetite) has a buffet of glorious songs to listen to. Repeatedly.

#23 Elton John — Goodbye Yellow Brick Road

Elton John released this album as a two-disc set because he ended up writing and recording more songs than required by his recording company for the release. His creativity had kicked in full force (and then some). He recorded it in Jamaica (the country, not the neighborhood in Queens, NY).

#22 Red Hot Chili Peppers — Blood Sugar Sex Magik

The Chili Peppers’ fifth studio album, BSSM pushed them into mainstream. Prior to this album, the closest they had gotten was with a Stevie Wonder cover of Higher Ground on the Mother’s Milk album. No one has ever duplicated the variety of melodic undertones created by the combination of acid-rock, soul-funk, early alt-rock, and blues style on BSSM.

#21 Billy Idol — Billy Idol

Billy Idol’s debut album, released in 1982, was an absolute success after his breakup with the band Generation X. The song Dancing With Myself (track 11 on the 1983 reissue of the album) was actually a song originally recorded BY Generation X (with Billy Idol on lead vocals). It was a retail failure when released with Generation X, but when Billy Idol re-recorded and re-released it as a solo artist, it went mainstream.

#20 The Police — Zenyatta Mondotta

This was the last album The Police recorded by combining their reggae and punk music style before they switched to a more “popular” music style. Songs like Canary In A Coal Mine and Bombs Away had innuendos of political undertones, while Don’t Stand So Close To Me and De Do Do Do De Da Da Da were more lackadaisical and humorous.

#19 Van Halen — Van Halen

This album is an anomaly. Van Halen is a very well known band. They produced twelve albums. Yet, this is their debut album and has their legacy songs. The album has reached Diamond status by selling over ten million copies. It has one of the best-known guitar instrumental songs in history (eruption).

#18 Nirvana — Nevermind

This is my nod to the Foo Fighters, since they are not eligible for the list. Nevermind was the cork that popped and brought alternative rock (as a whole) into the mainstream. It basically created a whole new genre of both musicians and fans.

#17 Lynyrd Skynyrd — (Pronounced Lĕh-’nérd ‘Skin-’nérd)

Well…Free Bird, of course. I don’t need to write any about this album more than that.

#16 Pink Floyd — The Wall

I used to just listen to this album and watch the movie because it was the cool thing to do. Then, once I picked apart the meaning behind both (the music and the screenplay), it was totally eye opening. Pink Floyd was successful at concept before concept was cool.

#15 The Doors — The Doors

The Doors recorded this album in less than a month, yet it will inspire musicians for centuries. Critics often rate it the best album of all time.

#14 Rainmakers — Rainmakers

The Rainmakers self-titled album epitomizes my “100%” criterion. Every well written song tells a story, either historically or humorously. Also, The Rainmakers made rockabilly cool when no one knew what rockabilly was.

#13 Rush — Moving Pictures

With so many amazing Rush albums to choose from, it was difficult to pick just one. However, the rules of my list narrowed it down to Moving Pictures. I have spent countless nights in my life listening to this album from start to finish. Although Side B has no songs that ever received radio play, they are still AMAZING songs.

#12 Linkin Park — Hybrid Theory

This debut album launched Linkin Park into their river of greatness. Linkin Park was initially rejected by 42 recording agents before recording Hybrid Theory and becoming one of the all-time greatest alt rock bands.

#11 Beastie Boys — Licensed To Ill

Licensed To Ill is one of the fastest selling debut albums in history. It gained Diamond status (over 10 million copies). Some claim that Licensed To Ill is the best punk rap album ever released.

#10 Van Halen–5150

5150 was Van Halen’s debut album with Sammy Hagar as lead singer. Each song has crisp, clear instrumentals and incredibly well written music. Although the album received negative reviews from critics, each song creates different feelings and scenarios with the tempos and feelings. I know, I know. Van Halen is already on this list. However, as stated: this album is with Sammy Hagar as lead singer. The previous one was David Lee Roth.

#9 Violent Femmes — Violent Femmes

This was Violent Femmes debut album. It was the party album of the eighties. Every partygoer knew every lyric to every song. The Femmes had one of the most distinctive sounds of the times and remains an enduring classic. The minimalism and simplicity of their music created the attractiveness, and their lyrics are a drug.

#8 New Order — Substance

This is a compilation (2 disc) album. NOT a greatest hits album. It contains a ton of great New Order music. The only reason I made the exception (of “Greatest Hits”) is because it has a “B” sides disc included with many unreleased, 12-inch, and dub versions of the original songs. For New Order fans, this is a gold mine.

#7 The Who — Who’s Next

There are so many great tracks on here. The primary reason this one made the list is Baba O’Riley. This song (often mislabeled as Teenage Wasteland) was originally 30 minutes long. I would have had no problem with the song being that long.

#6 Prince — Purple Rain

Purple Rain had innovation that was unheard of in the early ’80s. For example, When Doves Cry does not have a bass line. The consolidation of R&B with rock was a new concept. Lastly, Prince’s guitar playing on this album was out of this world.

#5 U2 — Joshua Tree

Bono’s “great romance” and fascination with the United States served as the inspirations for The Joshua Tree. I wonder if Bono would have found today’s United States as inspirational? One of the BEST songs on this album- Running To Stand Still.

#4 AC/DC — Back In Black

This is one of the best-selling albums in history. It is AC/DC’s leanest, meanest album of all-time. It will always sound timeless and simple, yet savagely crafted.

#3 Led Zeppelin — IV

This album defined not only Led Zeppelin but the sound and style of 70s hard rock. It encompassed heavy metal, folk, pure rock-and-roll, and blues. This album not only served as a cornerstone but also a turning point for the future of music. Just don’t ask a guitar player to play Stairway (or Freebird).

#2 Nine Inch Nails — Downward Spiral

It’s no surprise that Trent Reznor collaborated with Jane’s Addiction drummer Stephen Perkins on this album. The instrumentation throughout the album is amazing. Every song leads into the next (it should, as it’s a concept album). Just don’t listen to the lyrics too closely. It could prove very, very depressing!

#1 Pearl Jam — Ten

Ten was the debut album from Pearl Jam in August 1991. Although most consider Pearl Jam a “Grunge” band, the album is more classic rock music. Most of the songs on the album began as simple instrumental band jam sessions that Eddie Vedder then wrote lyrics to go along with. The songs on Ten, despite their deep, dark lyrics, will remain on playlists for generations to come. Ten is powerful, insightful, deep, dark, thought provoking, and brilliant. “Why is the album named ‘Ten’?” you ask, when there are eleven tracks on it? Jeff Ament’s (the band’s bass player) love for NBA point guard Mookie Blaylock provided the inspiration. Blaylock’s involvement in a tragic car accident hit Pearl Jam like an injury to a family member. Blaylock’s jersey number was — you guessed it — Ten.

HONORABLE MENTION:

Steve Miller Band — Book of Dreams

This album has a few legendary songs on it: Jet Airliner, Swingtown, Jungle Love, and True Fine Love. The only reason it did not meet the cut is because it has some “eh” songs on it. However, a host can play this album straight through at a party or a get together, and no one will complain.

The Cars — The Cars

This is an amazing album. Clean, crisp guitar. Ric Ocasek’s vocals and lyrics are powerful. However, two songs (I’m In Touch With Your World and Dontcha Stop) prevent this album from meeting the “100%” criterion.

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