#ellie au farmer | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kedsandtubesocks · 1 month

Text

seasons of you (year 1 - spring)

Farmer!Joel Miller x F!Reader

summary: it’s your very first spring living in the valley & you’re very sure Joel Miller already wants you leave

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI, stardew valley AU, reader is a new farmer & has a family but no physical description, mentions of unspecified age gap (reader’s age is not mentioned but Joel is older & in his 50’s) very light use of gendered language, handyman & farmer!Joel, grumpy!Joel, wound tending & blood imagery, discussion of family loss with light navigation of grief, Ellie being Joel’s daughter, secret softie!Joel, alcohol consumption mention, use of nickname, budding romance

word count: 5.4k

a/n: our first ‘Joel’ fic for our stardew AU series! Here’s to starting this new aventure with y’all! I couldn’t have the strength to post this without @swiftispunk @lowlights @ahauntedcowboy @burntheedges @perotovar you angels don’t know how much I appreciate y’all and am so grateful for you babes…and to you, if you read this - I’m so thankful for you too ♡

No one in Pelican Town hates you more than Joel Miller does. George, the crabby older elderly man in town, might be a close second, but Joel has him beat by miles.

For someone so incredibly handsome, almost beautiful in a rugged wilderness way with his misty mountain gray hair and sharp lovely nose, his glare could wither your entire family farm’s field.

“He’s just an ass sometimes.” Your Dad had told you with a sigh over the phone. “Been that way even when your gramps was around.”

At first you didn’t want to fully admit it but yeah, Joel is a prickly cactus of a man.

He owns a farm further down the path from yours. You love walking by it when you take the long way home and getting to spot all the sheep roaming around his fields. He’s also the town’s handyman.

“A jack of all trades, more like it.” Pierre, the main store owner, snickered that to you while Joel was in the store fixing a light fixture.

After that Joel helped you set up your first fencing gate. Then he fixed your sink. And then your water heater.

It’s been a lot and you know it. You feel guilty at how bad you can’t seem to get a hang of this new life yet. Your grandpa did it, thrived even. You can too, or you hope you can.

Until Joel glares at you like you’re a bug ready to squash, then you feel incredibly small.

Once you physically and accidentally ran into him walking out of the blacksmith’s shop when he was heading in. You sputtered out an apology, but without a single word Joel walked past you as if you weren’t even worth his time.

One night you went to the town’s saloon hoping to maybe mingle and get to know everyone better. But simply seeing him sitting inside made you turn on your heels and scramble out.

From that point on you’ve been avoiding him.

But now unfortunately, a few paces away from Joel Miller’s farm, your hand bleeds out a bit aggressively.

“Shit.” You hiss, slipping off your backpack to search for your mini first aid kit.

Yesterday you stubbornly tried fixing your fence and accidentally scrapped your hand pretty bad against the wood. Earlier you believed you wrapped it good enough but now the blood soaking through the bandaid mocks you.

“You alright?!”

The sharp accented drawl rings out loud in the early morning and fear collides into you.

Of course Joel hadn’t left for the morning.

You yell back that you’re fine but scramble frantic now trying to find the damn first aid kit.

“Is that blood?” Joel snaps, sounding closer, as his boots rush against the dirt.

“No, I spilled paint.” You grumble to yourself annoyed.

“M’old but I fuckin’ heard that.” Damn.

He’s much closer now, so close his shadow falls over you but you refuse to look at him.

“What happened!?” He barks confused.

Sighing, you give up hope on finding the poor elusive first aid kit.

“Just cut my hand, that's all. It isn’t deep. I’m fine.” You reassure him.

Joel sighs angrily.

“Come on.”

Now you turn and discover his soil eyes stare at you with such a steeled intensity you almost want to scurry away.

“Fixin’ this up inside.” He doesn’t even ask or let you leave. With one yank Joel Miller pulls you towards his farmhouse.

“I’m fine.” You snap back.

“What? Just wanna let it bleed ‘n get everywhere?” An edge in Joel’s voice silences you.

Any argument you wanted to hiss out immediately floats away the moment you cross the threshold into his house. Your eyes go wide. You never once thought you’d ever see the inside of Joel Miller’s place.

It’s larger than your grandpa's.

Joel deposits you into his kitchen. The lingering smell of breakfast, possibly oatmeal with its warm cinnamon notes, hangs in the air. Yet you feel like a caught feral cat that doesn’t know how to react being inside a house for the first time.

So you let your eyes wander.

Beautiful wood cupboards line the walls. A fridge is covered with various papers held up by sweet colorful cartoonish magnets you never would’ve expected from him. A worn cozy, well loved, couch peeks out from the slight view of the living room you spot being inside the kitchen.

Joel’s house seems knitted together by a rustic weathered comfort. Yet, there’s a hollowness to the house, like it’s waiting for more spirit to fill the halls. You can’t pinpoint or describe the stillness here in this place, but you sense it.

After rustling around a drawer, Joel yanks out a rather impressive medical kit. Largely bulky and intimidating, like him, it’s no surprise a handyman and farmer has such a first aid kit.

“How’d it happen?” Joel asks gruff and quiet as he rummages around the bag.

You tell him and his seasoned face scrunches up frustrated.

“Why didn’t ya call and have me go fix it?”

You thought about that. But you couldn’t handle the thought of asking him to help again, to deal with his frustrated sighs and gruff annoyance. He barely said a word to you last weekend when he went to check your sink again.

“Don’t need you to fix everything.” You tell him composed while Joel pulls out various things to wrap your wound.

“Besides, I can fix things on my own.” You add firm.

“Not all the time.” He replies.

You stay quiet and watch his hands, large and callous, gingerly dab away all the crimson from your cut.

He’s never been this close to you. You catch the faintest smell of wood and of something clean crisp, his laundry detergent maybe. It threatens to fog your senses knowing he smells this lovely.

“Y’dont ask for help and shit like this happens.”

Your face hardens at Joel’s words. You even childishly want to yank away your hand and storm off.

“Look I get it, you barely tolerate me and think I can’t do shit. I know I’m still new, but this was an accident. It happens.” Your words come out harsher than you intended, sharpened scythes that cut through the room, and Joel freezes.

“I don’t think that.” He replies clear as a spring blue sky.

You want to bark a laugh of disbelief, but instead you simply stay silent.

Joel sighs, keeping his eyes on the medic tape he readies.

“And I… tolerate you.” He sputters like he’s trying to muster the words out.

A moment passes. Then Joel sighs, ancient and heavy.

“Don’t mind me. M’just some grumpy old fuck-”

“Hey you’re not old. You’re just grumpy.” You interrupt trying to ease the mood and your heart jumps hearing him snort.

“M’old.” He clarifies. He is older, older than you, and that fact creates a strange flutter in your chest you don’t want to explore just yet.

“And…don’t want ya feelin’ like shit.” He continues with a curt softness.

You never knew his voice could sound this layered, so tough but tender.

“Just tryin’ to look out for ya like your gramps asked me too.”

There’s a strange apology shaded in his words but you manage to catch it. A rush of emotions drown you in their current.

“You were close with my grandpa.” You comment with a curious question lingering below the surface.

“Yeah,” Joel answers low now tenderly moving to wrap your hand. “His ol’ ass used to keep me in place.”

You smirk fondly. That sounds like your gramps.

“Miss seein’ him walk by this place and hearin’ him complain that he likes the sheep more than me.”

Joel’s fond and aching voice digs its hooks into your soul. You miss gramps too, so much.

“Used to fish a lot together out by the lake.” He adds.

This is the most Joel Miller has ever spoken to you and you worry the sun might fall out of the sky soon.

“I bet he out fished you.” You tease soft.

Joel snorts. “Damn right he did.”

You can almost picture it clearly, your gramps and Joel laughing together, having a friendship.

“He’d be proud of ya.” Joel mutters but his words chime clear.

Your attention flickers to Joel. He keeps his focus steady on your hand. However his words crystallize deep in your heart and you blink away tears. You ever expected Joel Miller to almost make you cry like this.

“Thanks…means a lot.” You truthfully tell him while you swallow back the heartache and love threatening to spill over.

“He’d also say you’re a fuckin’ stubborn thing for not askin’ for help.”

You snort at that.

“Well you knew the old guy, it runs in the family.” You reply.

Joel chuckles.

It’s small - like the faint flash of seeing a cardinal in the trees. But you heard it, his amusement, and it’s lovely for a man quietly layered as him.

“Alright, all fixed up.”

The wrap is tight, secure, and speaks of his many times previously doing this before.

“Thank you Joel, appreciate it.” You do.

“Can't be a handyman if I can’t fix up people sometimes.” He shrugs but there’s a deadpan charm to his words you’re slowly catching now.

“Doctor and a handyman, no wonder the town keeps you around.” So you dryly joke back.

This moment isn’t much. Yet it feels like gaining a good step in the direction of something right and solid.

Gathering your things, you decide to head out. Even though curiosity claws at you to take in a few more moments being inside Joel Miller’s home, you have seeds to buy.

“Where ya headin’’ to?” Joel asks.

“Pierre’s.” You huff. “Need more parsnips.”

He hums a noise of acknowledgment.

Back outside the mid morning sun’s warmth soaks you in its gaze. Maybe you could fish for a bit before you head to the store. After all, the weather is so nice.

“Hey.” Joel barks out and before heading back on the road, you turn to him.

He’s a sight on his porch. You think of the typical romance movies of the handsome farmer trying to woo the newcomer in town and how right now he puts them all to shame.

Hands crossed over his chest, his broad shoulders seem like mountains against the doorway, so striking and large taking up the entire focus.

“Don’t hesitate to call y’hear? Don’t fuckin’ care what it is or what it’s for, call me.” Joel’s face is hardened and serious, reflecting the unwavering tone in his voice.

Something heated crawls up your throat and makes you dizzy. You blame it on the blood loss.

“Besides, s’what neighbors are for, right?” He adds a bit awkwardly.

It hits you. He’s the closest homestead to you. You are neighbors with him.

“Alright will do, promise.” You nod and mean your words.

“Thanks again neighbor.” Those words tingle on your lips.

Joel nods and with that you head out.

You’re on such a strange high you simply float straight to the pier and fish. It’s comforting being among the crashing waves, the sea breeze, and the wonderful weather. You also think of your gramps and Joel here.

But by the time the sky starts to turn into a ripe tangerine you realize in horror you forget to buy more seeds.

You almost scream in anguish when you find Pierre’s doors locked. Accepting momentary defeat, you head home.

When you reach your porch, there against the steps a bundle of parsnip seeds and a small pack of bandaids sit waiting for you.

- ☼ -

Your hope to quietly enjoy the egg festival, your true first event here in the valley, is diminished when Mayor Lewis practically drags you into the egg hunt saying it’s a rite of passage.

His deadly polite politician smile said there was no way you could worm your way out of participating. So you simply start the hunt thinking of the strawberry seeds you can’t wait to plant once this is over.

You’re not overly competitive, but these eggs are getting harder to find. You want to finish at least with some dignity.

Besides the area around Stardrop Saloon you scan every inch like a hawk. Someone coughs, clearing their throat, and it catches your attention.

Under the shade of the building, nursing a cold drink, Joel slightly turns towards you.

Now instead of a hawk you feel like a surprised field mouse caught in his gaze.

Without saying anything Joel flickers his eyes a couple of times towards the corner of the building. Is he giving you a hint?

Heading to the spot his eyes vaguely guided you to, you discover a colorful egg.

You almost want to keep it as proof this happened. Joel helped you.

By the time the egg hunt ends everyone already seems to be packing up and the mysterious Mr. Miller has vanished from the commotion.

Abigail wins the egg hunt and you aren’t even upset. In fact you walk home feeling like a champion.

The next morning on the help wanted and errands bulletin board in town you spot Joel’s name. Below it is a request asking for a small pack of wood.

You readily answer it and drop off the bundle eagerly, a way to help pay him back for everything.

The pretty decent payment he gives you is nice but the crooked soft hint of a grin on his face when you arrive to deliver the request is worth iridium.

A few days after that he mails you a recipe. The letter is so simply Joel - a straightforward recipe then a scribbled JM below it. You hang the letter up proudly on your fridge.

Spring blooms more and more before your eyes.

You decide to take advantage of it by foraging for the day.

“Where y’heading?”

You’ve been taking the long way to the forest these past few weeks in hopes of seeing him again. Now that you’re not actively avoiding him, you discover, small town or not, Joel is a surprisingly busy man.

When you catch glimpses of him, instead of glares being thrown your way, Joel Miller simply nods acknowledging you. Comforting as it is to know he doesn’t outright detest, you don’t like how much you hope to run into him more.

Now he’s here sliding on his backpack while moving to lock his gate.

“Just heading to the forest, gonna forage and walk around for the day.” You answer him.

“Works out, hafta head that way myself.” Joel explains falling into step besides you.

Alone with Joel Miller once again.

The small talk comes - asking each other how your days have been, anything new or interesting happening. The heat is starting to pick up announcing summer’s close arrival. Thankfully it’s still not unbearably hot as you and him fully enter the woods.

Cindersap forest is tranquil. A beautiful glimmering evergreen haven you enjoy simply strolling through. You never thought you’d ever be here with Joel.

“No new crops coming in?”

“Nothing exciting.” You shrug. “I’m more upset that I didn't plant any tulips this season.”

“Those your favorite?” Joel asks, surprisingly curious.

“Not mine, my gramps.” Your memories of the farm might be hazy, but you always remembered fresh tulips in the kitchen.

“They’re for the fairies.” Gramps would tell you with a wink.

You were bummed after realizing Pierre had flower seeds and it was too late to see them bloom in your kitchen.

“Damn,” Joel sighs. “Ain't your fault. Pierre’s an ass and hides all the good shit, flower seeds included.”

You’re almost positive Pierre doesn’t do that, but you burst out laughing.

A giddy twinkling glee consumes you and fills you buoyant. He’s trying to comfort you in his own Joel way. And it’s dangerous how fast you’re growing to enjoy the company of this grumpy cactus of a man.

You move to snag a few dandelions and wild horseradishes. You make a face at one that smells a bit ripe and decide to leave it for the forest.

“You can eat those y’know.” Joel comments.

“Yeah so I’ve heard.” You tried your first ever daffodil this month. “A wild horseradish might be a bit too much right now though, but who knows. Maybe one day I’ll try ‘em.”

“My kid used to eat these all the damn time. Never took a likin’ to ‘em myself.” Joel grumbles kicking the disposed horseradish.

Kid.

“You have a kid?” You ask curiously.

Joel blinks to you and there’s a gleam in his earth eyes of something reserved slowly revealing itself.

“Uh… yeah. A daughter. Ellie.”

A daughter. He’s a dad.

It fits him in a way that you never would have expected.

“She doesn’t live here?” You ask but then quickly apologize for pressing the subject. Joel waves you off, casual and unbothered.

“She did, just graduated highschool this year. Wanted to do the whole college deal. She lives out west now.”

So he’s an empty nester.

Delicately, wanting to know more about him and his daughter, you ask about her.

Joel inhales deep then exhales slowly, as if an immovable weight on his shoulders rattles deep to his bones.

“She’s a headache, my Ellie.” Fondness trickles out of Joel a steady stream.

“Stubborn, damn near impossible to argue with cause she’s so fuckin’ smart. Got a good heart. Good head on her shoulders too, wants to be an astronaut.”

“An astronaut?! That’s incredible!” You exclaim in brilliant excitement.

Like the proud dad he is, adoration tugs at Joel’s lips.

“Yeah, been wantin’ to be one for years. That’s why she’s going to school.”

“She sounds incredible, Joel. You must be proud.” You earnestly tell him.

“I am…” His voice is thick, and you don’t miss the way his eyes gloss over distant and misty.

You decide not to press the subject any further. He instead does it for you.

“She loved livin’ here until the damn flower festival rolled around. Then she’d swear up ‘n down about how much she hated this town and was gonna leave the second she could.”

The flower festival is just days away. The town swirls in a controlled chaos for its arrival.

You laugh warm. “I’m guessing she’s not a fan of dancing.”

“Takes after me.” Joel nods.

“Ahh…so guess that means you’re not asking anyone to dance this year.” You comment lightly and Joel snorts.

“Ain’t danced with anyone in a very long time.”

A wistful ace now twists your heart thinking of Joel alone in his home, alone watching the others in town pair off.

“You gonna ask anyone?” Joel turns the question around to you and you almost choke on an inhale.

Not wanting to get flustered or react wildly you focus on the wild springs among the lush forest.

“Uh no. Don’t think anyone wants to dance with the newbie in town. Which is fine.” You answer.

There are lovely and gorgeous people in town. Some have caught your eye. However, you didn’t feel brave or interested enough to ask anyone to dance. And no one seemed intended to ask for your hand in the dance, and you find you’re not too upset about that.

Joel hums low, a sign you’re catching on means he’s listening without having to reply much.

“Hopin’ someone will ask ya to dance?” That question takes you by surprise.

You shrug not wanting to fully answer the question either.

Someone suddenly calls out to Joel from behind. At the edge of the forest leading back into town stands Maria, the town’s legal counsel and assistant mayor.

“Caught playing hooky, busted.” You snicker and Joel scoffs.

Maria yells out Joel’s name again.

“Can you come back to town and help us with something? Thought you’d be at home seeing how it’s your day off today. I’ve been trying to call ya but nothing went through.” She yells.

The service here in the forest was awful compared to the town, a hard lesson you’ve learned quickly.

But you also don’t miss Maria’s comment.

Joel had today off. Yet he decided to stay a bit with you. That thought has teeth and you can’t stop their bite from sinking into your heart.

Joel groans but doesn't hesitate to head towards where the assistant mayor stands. Maria of course spots you and a wonderful grin lights up lovely her face.

“It’s good to see you.” She calls out.

“You too!” You reply back thankful your voice is level.

Joel glances over his shoulder to catch your eye.

“Good luck foragin’. Don’t eat any weird shit.”

You sputter out a squawk at his casual comment.

“Next time I see you, I’m giving you a wild horseradish!” You playfully snap the ridiculous reply before you can even stop yourself, but Joel thankfully rolls his eyes unbothered.

Maria’s eyes however flicker curiously between you and Joel. Too many emotions heat up your skin now. So bidding Joel and Maria a quick goodbye you stomp back into the forest to continue foraging.

Now along in the woods, your thoughts still think of Joel. The bag of parsnip seeds, the bandages, and the recipe, come to mind. You never once discussed any of it with him or him with you. It’s something you keep locked in your heart, just like today will be.

Soon the day melts into early twilight. You snag a couple of dandelions and a few other forageables before deciding to head home.

Joel’s farm house looms quietly still with no lights. You can’t bring yourself to open the gate to his farm and walk up to the house.

So instead you place a few dandelions along with a nice fresh large wild horseradish on top of the mailbox by his gate then head home.

Even when you unwind for the night, you mind still feels like it’s snagged on Joel Miller, still there with him foraging in the forest.

- ☼ -

The flower dance, as strange of a custom as it is, is rather ethereal. So many vivid floral arrangements decorate the space with dynamic colors and the air even smells fresh.

The flower dance honors the legacy of celebrating the final days of spring. But it also is a celebration of love blooming.

“It has roots dating back to fertility rituals.” Demetrius, ever the town scientist, told you while you were chatting with him and his wife.

He was right of course. The flower dance is the opportunity for someone to extend a hand of romantic feelings towards another. Those who hope to participate in the couples dance, or possibly win the crown of Flower Queen, are dressed in glorious attire. Soft light fabrics and flowers woven into crowns create a scene conjured out of a fairy’s kingdom.

Compared to the others in lovely attire with flowers in their hair, you didn’t even dress up or change out of your messy dirt covered jeans. And the only flowers in your hair are actually twigs and leaves from cleaning up more of your property.

With no need to worry about someone asking you to dance, you instead simply enjoy the various foods prepared for the occasion.

“Be careful, the salsa actually has a pretty good kick.” You’re about to go in for a second helping when a gentle accented voice floats out to you.

Besides you is a man with the kindest eyes you’ve seen. Faintly you recognize his face and can recall seeing him around town.

“Tommy Miller.” He reintroduces himself seeing your slight hesitation and your eyes go big.

“Oh, Maria’s husband!” You fully remember her introducing him to you. But now something else clicks.

He’s Joel’s brother.

“Yup.” He grins proud at his wife’s mention.

You apologize profusely for not remembering him sooner and with a kind understanding smile Tommy reassures you it’s fine.

“Been a busy first month for ya, I get it. You’re a tough cookie handlin’ it all.”

Even though his twang mirrors his brother’s, Tommy already radiates a much different energy than Joel. He’s warm in a way that reminds you of a soft summer day welcoming everyone with his vibrant energy.

You thank him earnestly. “The town’s been good to me.”

A part of you wants to add Joel has been good to you. Weeks ago, you would’ve laughed at just the idea of Joel Miller showing you an emotion other than annoyance. But now you and him seem to slowly be warming up to each other.

“Don’t go stealin’ all the good stuff, y’little shit.” Joel arrives with a gruff grumble of a voice and quickly nudges Tommy.

Yet his eyes remained glued on you.

You also seem to notice how striking Joel looks in the crisp light jean button up shirt he wears.

“Speak of the devil… was just about to ask our new farmer here if ya haven’t scared her away yet.” Tommy jokes.

Joel’s face flickers with a scowl fighting to form but he keeps himself surprisingly composed.

Guilt sinks in your gut. You know he’s hard to read and you even feel bad for thinking he’s mean. Because you’re learning fast Joel is earnest in his own way.

“Nah,” you tell Tommy, answering for yourself and Joel almost. “His sheep are actually scarier than he is.”

Tommy busts out laughing and you grin. Your eyes flicker to Joel but see he isn’t grinning. Instead Joel’s handsome aged face stares at you guarded and you can’t read the emotions shimmering in his eyes.

Shit.

You might have overstepped and upset him. So to physically stop yourself from saying anything else you take a bite out of the delicious cornbread on your plate, wave a weak goodbye to the Miller brothers, and scurry away.

Now alone under the shadow of one of the lovely cherry trees, you’re aware of how new you still are, a fresh bud still trying to foster roots in this new ground. You wonder how your gramps dealt with this every year.

Soon enough, the music starts and Mayor Lewis claps excited ready to begin the dance.

At least this will be over soon.

The couples slowly sway to the soft melody then rustling arrives at your side. Gently your eyes turn to the source and you almost collapse seeing Joel move in besides you.

His eyes though stay on the couples dancing among the blooms.

“Could’ve at least picked better music to dance to.” He mumbles bored.

Your lips press hard trying not to smile ridiculous and wide.

“Could you imagine if someone played the wrong song?” You whisper back. “Like, some heavy metal rock song suddenly started screaming out?”

Joel snorts, masks it with a few coughs, but you did it. You made him laugh.

Golden soaked triumph fills you and it feels like the first morning you woke up and found a sprout peeking up from the dark tilled soil.

He’s a complex man and you’re barely even scratching the surface of him. But it’s a tender start you want to continue kindling.

For all the commotion and production given to the festival, the dance only lasts a few moments. It’s over thankfully fast.

“Bit anticlimactic.” You mutter under your breath.

“Yeah it’s dumb.” Joel deadpans.

Your lips fight from letting out a laugh.

Everyone claps joyously at the couples concluding their dance. You wonder, even as silly as this is, if one day maybe you’ll dance with flowers in your hair. But you don’t give that thought too much attention. Just imaging yourself next spring already seems so far away.

“Headin’ home?” Joel asks, pulling you out of your thoughts.

You hum, narrowing your eyes at the gorgeous meadow.

“I’m kind of tempted to maybe see if I can steal some of the leftovers but yeah, I’m heading back.” You reply.

“Tell me which food you’re eyein’ and I’ll grab it. No one will tell me no.” He offers and you laugh.

“Tempting as that is, I’m just gonna go home.” You wish Joel a warm good night.

He continues walking alongside you.

Your heart jumps until you realize he lives in the same direction. The chatter from the festival still lingers in the air even while you walk further away from the meadow.

“How do you deal with that every year?” You ask with a sigh.

“Alcohol.” Joel dully answers and you snicker at his reply.

“Maybe one day you’ll be dancin’ out there.” Joel comments like he’s trying to continue the small talk. But the suggestion makes you skin itch for a reason you can’t pinpoint.

You only reply with a simple ‘maybe’ and a shrug.

“I’d pay a hundred bucks to see you dance though.” You joke, but also quickly imagine Joel a picture of softness with a flower behind his ear resting beautifully among his silver curls and it makes your knees weak.

Joel however rolls his eyes.

“Next year we’ll just sneak in and take over the music. See what happens.” You offer.

“Now that sounds like a plan.” Joel agrees gruffly.

It sounds like a promise.

You bid him good night until his eyebrows crinkle so classily grumpy Joel.

“Whadya doin’? Ain’t lettin’ ya walk home alone, sprout. Now come on.”

He continues walking as if nothing while your mind tries to recover being tilted on its axis for a bit.

Joel is walking you home.

And he called you sprout.

You want to cradle this new nickname so tenderly in your hands.

Joel quietly asks about your plans for the upcoming season, almost as if he’s trying to keep you focused.

To settle your flutter heart, you manage to ramble about the new incoming seeds you’ve heard about. You talk about your hopes of going to the beach more, not just to fish but to simply enjoy the ocean.

Among all that discussion, in a blink you’re back at your farm.

Instead of Joel rushing home, he lingers.

He checks your porch almost like he’s making sure the thing still stands.

“Hope one day to see that dang greenhouse up ‘n runnin.” He points to the broken greenhouse and you can’t help but sigh at the sight. You hope so too.

Then Joel moves to stand next to you on the land.

It feels different seeing him here.

Just a few weeks ago he was shouting every profanity known to man trying to fix your ancient water heater. He also glared at you the entire time.

Now he stands next to you suggesting on what to grow for the upcoming season.

“You could plant the tomatoes over on this side, give ‘em more shade to grow.”

Joel already reminds you of a back alley cat, one that hisses and refuses to let others near until he decides when to warm up to others. And, like a fresh new sprout, you want to soak up this warmth of him up.

“Also… Don’t forget to plant flowers.” He adds with a soft grumble.

“I won’t.” You grin impressed he remembered.

When you bid him goodnight and thank him again, you almost want to promise you’ll stop by with coffee tomorrow morning.

However that feels too much, like you might make the wrong move and spook him. But you do want to know if he makes it home okay. You can’t even bring yourself to ask him for his phone number.

So you watch Joel leave until your thoughts move fast and you blurt them out.

“Wait how will I know you made it back?”

Joel suddenly stops then glances back to you.

A very soft twinkle comes over his face and he gives you a crooked grin. It colors him with such a boyish expression. This new face of Joel feels sacred, special, and it steals your breath away.

“Hang outside for a bit. I’ll give ya sign, don’t worry.” He nods then melts into the darkness.

You stay frozen on the spot, not wanting to miss whatever it is. You wait, hoping he makes it back safe. Then out from the darkness, far down the path, you see it.

A light from Joel’s house blazes alive.

Then it flickers on and off, like someone flipping the switch a few times. The movement of it against the darkness even feels like a wave of some sorts.

You wish so badly to wave back.

Reassured that he’s home, you head back feeling as light as a feather.

Stepping onto your porch, something catches your eye.

Resting on the main railing barrier are a batch of tulips that were not there when you left.

Your heart jumps into your throat. You didn’t even see Joel place them there.

Delicately placed, the tulips so brilliantly colored sit warm and bright for you - the most beautiful end to your spring.

Though, in your heart, these blooms feel like something closer to a beginning.

#I blame this on the Stardew valley update and thinking of sheep farmer Joel and here we are lol #but wow this au means so much and im so grateful to write this and if you read this me & Joel love you & are giving you a stardrop #joel miller x f!reader #farmer!joel miller #Joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #Joel miller x you #stardew valley au #seasons of you fic series #Joel 🤎#pedrostories

493 notes · View notes

familyvideostevie · 3 months

Text

it's your turn for choosing

this was born out of a prompt request from my dear, dear, @softlyspector. this is for you, becca!

getting asked out via a smudgy scribble on a coffee cup | valentine's day prompts

joel miller x reader

summary/warnings: joel stops by your coffee shack every day. it's not your fault you're a little in love with him because of it. | modern au, fluff, flirting, jesse and cat and ellie cameos, game!joel in my head. i have not been a barista so sorry to all baristas if this reads wildly off-base. | 5.6k

a/n: it's giving rom-com! happy valentine's day. a bit different from my usual fare but hopefully it makes your heart warm. love u. thank u always to @macfrog and @bageldaddy for your eyes.

___

7:32 am. It’s helpful in this line of work to know exactly when you’re fucked.

The espresso machine has been on the fritz all week and despite how much you want your current method of fixing it to work – banging a fist on the top until it stops wheezing – all signs point to today being a very bad day indeed.

You’ve only been open for two hours.

Here for three, awake for four. God, you’re tired.

Anyway – you’re fucked. And there’s nothing you can do about it.

You call the time of death on the machine and search for something you can write on.

The Zone – a stupid name, but you can’t be bothered to change the sign that came with the place – is a coffee shop that sits between towns.

Your coffee shop.

It's more shack than shop, not really a zone of anything, just an order window and a five-drink menu. It's the kind of place that appears like a mirage for tourists right before they get on the highway at an ungodly hour and serves as a quick stop for everyone else. You open earlier than any other place around to get the truckers and the farmers and close when you stop being able to keep your eyes open.

The faded brown clapboard building is no bigger than an RV. The paint is chipped and the roof is a too-bright shade of green and you serve your drinks and the occasional sweet treat when you can get a good deal off of the baker two towns over through a window. It’s not a fancy chain, it’s not a drive-thru. You’ve got a bathroom and a few rickety cafe tables and chairs and no fucking common sense since you like it.

You even love it, some days.

And the craziest part is that it works. Even on mornings like this one, when your espresso machine breaks during the lull between rushes and your part-time help calls in sick and you’ve spilled coffee all over your apron twice – it works.

You tear off the lip of a cardboard box and write in big block letters: NO ESPRESSO TODAY. Maybe Tess, the baker, knows someone who can fix it. She knows everyone.

“Fuck you, you piece of junk,” you say. You give the machine another smack for good measure.

Someone clears their throat and you whirl around, makeshift sign in hand.

You’ve been doing this long enough that a handsome customer doesn’t phase you, but the man standing at your order window makes your stomach swoop for just a second.

“Morning,” you say, summoning your smile. “Hold on a sec, let me just –”

You lean out the window and wedge the piece of cardboard against the napkin holder on the ledge.

The man’s gaze drops to read. You take the opportunity to look at him.

He’s tall and broad – if you had to guess, you’d say he works on one of the farms around here. He’s tan, dark hair threaded through with grey. His arms are crossed and you wish he wasn’t wearing a jacket so you could see his forearms. His denim shirt is undone at the top and you fixate on the chorded column of his throat, on the teasing glimpse of chest hair underneath.

The guy looks tired.

Bone-tired, the kind of exhaustion you see when you look in the mirror. It comes from hundreds of early mornings and late nights, from hours on your feet and plenty of worry. He’s got lines at the corners of his eyes and a few around his mouth and you find yourself hoping they’re from laughter.

“No espresso,” he reads, slow and unhurried. His drawl fits in with most of the folks around here, but you’re sure you haven’t seen him before. You’d remember.

“Hope that doesn't scare you off,” you say. “Still got everything else.”

“Everything else being…” He glances at the chalkboard that serves as your menu.

DRIP COFFEE. LATTE. CAPPUCCINO. TEA. HOT CHOCOLATE. All written in your blocky hand in white paint.

“Three options.”

Trial and error have taught you that simple works best. You’ll make anything people ask for, so long as you know how and have the supplies, and if they’re nice about it you won’t charge too much extra.

“Can I get you one of those three options?”

You’re not trying to rush him, but the next wave of people is bound to show up any minute.

“Black coffee will do,” he says. His mouth tugs up at the corner into a smirk that makes your face feel hot. “If you have that.”

“Thank you for taking pity on me,” you say, going for teasing and missing the mark by a mile. You just sound tired and genuine. “You just made my morning.”

He looks amused and you turn from him, unable to hide your grin. You pour a steaming cup and snap the lid on.

“Pretty shit morning if this is makin’ it,” he drawls.

You hand him the cup and your fingers brush.

“You have no idea.”

He eyes the sign again and then your stained apron. “I got some notion.” He tugs his wallet from his back pocket and pulls out a $5 bill. “Keep the change,” he says.

You want to refuse, to thank him, but a few more cars pull up and Mr. Black Coffee just raises his cup to you and heads back to his truck.

Well, shit. You hope he comes back. A tipper like that, and hot? You sure wouldn’t mind if he became a regular customer. __

You call Tess that afternoon and she does know a guy, so the espresso machine gets fixed and things go back to normal. Your part-time help returns in the morning and nothing else breaks.

Today is uncharacteristically warm for the season. The inside of The Zone is almost stifling, always at least 15 degrees warmer than outside, and you keep wiping your sweaty hands on your apron as you make espresso after espresso for the lunch crowd.

Cat, a spunky girl who likes to practice her latte art when it’s slow, takes orders at the register. You keep half of your attention on her and half on the four drinks you’re working on.

“Black coffee, please,” someone says to her. Someone whose voice you recognize.

“Can I get a name for that?” Cat asks. It’s busy enough that calling names is easier than calling orders, no matter how small your menu is.

“Joel,” he says. You let the milk steam on its own and pour the black coffee before Cat can do it.

“I’ve got it,” you tell her. “Can you finish up those drinks?”

She shrugs and you swap places. You know you’re sweaty and coffee-stained but you smile at him and hand over his coffee.

“Hot coffee on a day like this?” you tease. He – Joel – is sweaty, too. The collar of his work shirt is dark with sweat and his hair is a mess. He must be here on his lunch break. He takes the cup from you and slurps a long sip as a reply to your question.

You laugh. Joel looks pleased.

“Operatin’ a full menu, I see,” he says, pulling out another $5. “Glad you got it fixed.”

“It’s still a piece of junk,” you shrug. “Just don’t tell anyone I said that.”

He waves off your offer of change and raises his cup at you, taking a few steps backward towards his truck.

“Thank you,” he says. He eyes the tag on your chest and tacks your name on at the end. It sounds good from his mouth.

“Bye, Joel,” you say. His lips twitch but you barely have time to think about it before you have to take the next few orders.

The line dies down and you step away from the register to help Cat with some cappuccinos – your least favorite drink by far due to all the damn foam they require – and she eyes you.

“Dude,” Cat says. “What the hell was that?”

If it wasn’t already a billion degrees in here you know your face would feel hot.

“What the hell was what?”

She can’t reply for a few seconds while you grind beans for some espresso.

“I didn’t even know you knew how to flirt,” she muses, tapping a frother full of milk a few times. “That was pretty bad flirting if you ask me –”

You turn the grinder on again to drown her out.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you yell. She rolls her eyes at you until you turn off the machine.

You tamp down the grounds and slot them into the machine.

“I mean, not my type at all, for like, so many reasons,” she says, wrinkling her nose. “Way too old for me, for one. Man, for another. But I see the appeal, I guess. Seems like he likes you. And was that a five-dollar bill? Black coffee is two bucks, last time I checked –”

“Can we get back to steaming milk, please?” you snap, more embarrassed than mad. “I am not taking flirting advice from a teenager.”

“I’m twenty!” she sputters. “Wait, so you admit that you like him?”

“Milk.”

Cat is right, though, and you know it. You just don’t see any harm in having a crush on some guy who comes to your coffee shop. Running this place means you see hundreds of people every day. You know their names, you ask them about their kids and their pets and their jobs, and you smile at them even on your bad days. It’s just part of the job. The daily interactions keep you afloat, make you feel more solid in your own life. People see you, they recognize you, they know you – even if it’s just because you make them coffee.

Maybe Joel will keep coming back. Maybe he’ll become one of the regulars you know things about.

And if you have a crush on him?

No harm done. He’s nice to look at.

And he tips well.

Joel stops by again.

And again.

He comes in every morning – sometimes at lunch – and orders the same thing. You learn the rumble of his truck by ear alone, the crunch of his boots on the gravel. Sometimes people in line say hi to him and a smile works its way onto your face on instinct when his voice reaches your ear. It’s never slow enough to have a proper conversation but he smiles at you, tells you he likes the flowers, your new apron.

All of it is flirting but maybe not flirting.

Maybe he’s just being polite.

Also, he keeps overpaying.

One day, almost a month since you first saw him, he doesn’t come in the morning. When you don’t see him in line at lunch, either, you’re a little disappointed. The weather is perfect – not too hot, not too cold, the sun shining – and you want to see him in the sunlight.

The day crowd is long gone and you’re only an hour or two from closing when his truck pulls up.

“I was getting worried,” you call as he walks over. Usually, he’s got some kind of dust or paint or something on them – Joel is a contractor, you’ve learned through your brief encounters, not a farmer – but today his clothes are clean and un-ripped.

“I’m honored,” he says.

You have his cup ready by the time he reaches the window.

“I’m just surprised you can get through the day without a cup of coffee.”

He snorts and hands you his cash.

“I can’t,” he says. “Had shitty home brew this morning.”

He takes a sip of your coffee and sighs. Your heart picks up and you don’t hide your grin.

“What’s with the schedule change?” you ask.

He smirks. “Miss me?”

You scoff and cross your arms. Heat rises in your chest and you feel almost giddy.

“Just curious,” you say. “Don’t let it go to your head, but you’re my favorite customer.”

Joel laughs and scratches the back of his neck.

“Reckon that’s the tip.”

“Actually, ordering a cup of black coffee is the way to any barista’s heart.”

Joel’s eyebrows climb up his forehead.

“Ah,” he says. He takes another sip, his eyes dancing with mirth. “‘Course.”

“Nah,” you say with a teasing smile. “I’d never be so shallow.”

There’s no line behind him but you expect him to go back to his truck, anyway. But here he is. Talking to you.

You grab a rag and wipe down the counter to keep your hands busy.

“I’m, uh. Meetin’ one of my kids here,” Joel says. The sudden shyness that accompanies his admission is a surprise.

Your eyes dart to his hand but you see no ring, nor the pale shadow of one.

“Both of ‘em moved to the city recently. Ellie – she’s comin’ up for the night.”

“I’ll bet you miss them,” you offer. You’re not sure why he’d want to bring his daughter to your coffee shack, but you’re not complaining.

Joel smiles at you. It’s a sad smile but still a good one. The affection in his eyes is raw.

“Sure do,” he says. He tucks one hand in his pocket and takes another sip of his coffee. “But it’s good for them. Sarah – she’s a little older – is in school and Ellie is workin’ on her music and whatever else she’s into these days.” The pride in his voice is clear.

“Well, I’m honored you want to bring her here.” You gesture to your slightly sad sitting area and the empty lot behind him.

Joel looks ready to argue with you when a faded, older version of his truck pulls up. Music leaks from the open windows and the driver bops her head to the beat a few times before shutting it off and hoping out, thumbs flying on the screen of her phone.

“That’ll be her,” he says drily. “Hey, kiddo.”

Ellie looks up from her hands, tucks her phone in her back pocket, and grins at Joel.

She doesn’t look a thing like him, but the connection is obvious. She moves like him, her shoulders set like she’s ready for a challenge at any moment. Joel sets his coffee down at the window and meets her halfway for a hug.

You look away and busy yourself with restocking whatever you can get your hands on.

“Dude, you come here every day?” Ellie asks. “Joel, this is so far from –”

Joel talks over her.

“Drive go okay? Sarah said they’re doin’ shit on the 35 –”

Ellie huffs.

“Yeah, yeah, some traffic getting out of the city ‘cause of the fucking lane closure, but otherwise fine.”

“Good.”

You turn to face them, a genuine smile firmly in place.

“Hi,” you say. Joel picks up his coffee again, which Ellie eyes with a scowl. You introduce yourself to her. “You’re Ellie, right? I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Ellie frowns. Behind her, Joel’s mouth twitches but he says nothing. It’s a lie, obviously, but something tells you he doesn’t mind and she believes it.

“Really?” She throws him a glare and then rolls her eyes. “You gotta stop telling strangers about me, man.”

“Someone’s gotta warn ‘em,” he says.

She laughs. “Hey, fuck you!”

“Only good stuff,” you say. You like her. “Joel says you’re working on your music?”

Ellie’s eyes light up. “Oh, yeah,” she says. “I’ve got an audition next week.” She turns to Joel. “I brought my guitar ‘cause I have a fuck ton of songs to play for you.”

He puts a hand on her shoulder and she settles a little.

“I bet they’re real good.”

Ellie flushes and rolls her eyes. “Yeah, well. You have to hear them first.”

You feel a little off-balance again, like you’re on the fringes of something you shouldn’t be seeing. The love on Joel’s face is clear as day.

“Do you want some coffee?” you ask her.

Joel winces. Ellie gags.

“No offense,” she starts, eyes darting between you and Joel. “I know Joel is fifty percent coffee on a good day, but it’s not my thing.” She looks at the menu and narrows her eyes. “I had a mocha the other day and didn’t hate it. Do you make those?”

“Look at that,” Joel says. “You’re convertin’.”

“Am not,” Ellie says. “It’s got chocolate in it, dude. No shit, I like it.”

“Yeah, give me a few minutes,” you laugh. “I’ll put lots of chocolate in it.”

They sit at one of your tables and you hear their laughter in the background as you make her drink.

It’s strange to see Joel like this – to build up on the man you’ve imagined him to be in your mind. Father never occurred to you. It makes sense, though, like a missing piece of him slotted into place. But it also makes the crush feel a little more real. Now that he’s more than your favorite regular customer. Now that you know a piece of him, of who he really is.

It makes you want to know more.

You finish her drink and call Ellie’s name. They both stand and Joel digs in his wallet again.

“Don’t you dare pay me, Joel,” you say. You direct your next words at Ellie. “Really. I’m just honored you stopped by.”

She eyes Joel and he eyes her right back with the same look. She must have learned it from him.

“Yeah,” she says. “Me too.” She grins at you with all of her teeth. “Joel loves this place. Talks about it all the time.”

She takes a sip of her mocha and her eyes go wide.

“Wait, this is fucking good. Man, I see why you drive –”

Joel clears his throat.

“We’re off,” he says. “Thank you, as always.” He sounds softer than usual as if being nice to his daughter is the best thing you could do for him.

You suppose it is.

“You’re welcome, as always.”

Ellie knocks her shoulder with Joel’s as they head back to their trucks. She must be whispering something to him because he swats her away with a groan and she cackles.

They both wave at you as they drive away.

Joel keeps coming in the mornings, and your conversations return to their fleeting cadence. Even so, it’s hard to deny that your crush on him has kicked into high gear.

You try not to let your gaze linger on his lips, on his throat. On his hands when he takes the cup from you, how your skin brushes and it makes you warm all over. You think about how he laughed, how relaxed he was around Ellie. You want to know what he’s like outside of your small daily interaction. You want to know what he eats for dinner, how he spends his weekends, what he listens to on the radio.

You want him.

Business is busy, which helps. A kid from a few towns over – Jesse, he’s called – signs on to work part-time, mostly for the second half of the day. He’s been a barista before so the training is minimal, but it still changes the flow of things. He’s a charming guy and the regulars take to him easy enough.

It’s you who is distracted.

One morning, Joel comes in as expected. Jesse is working, too, trying to clock some extra hours this week.

Joel is on the phone in line, his attention somewhere else. He’s frowning, a deep crease between his brows as he waits in line. All it would take to smooth it away is the press of your thumb.

You try not to stare and probably fail, but manage to take and make the orders ahead of him without making any mistakes, though your whole body feels alight.

He hangs up right as he gets to the window and sighs, giving you a tired smile.

“Howdy,” he says. You set his coffee down in front of him and he pulls out a ten-dollar bill instead of a five.

“Joel –” you say, but he interrupts you.

“My brother called and said he needs breakfast,” Joel grumbles. “Y’got any of Tess’s bear claws?”

Right, they work together, you remember. He’s mentioned Tommy in passing.

“I think so, just hold on a sec.”

“Take your time,” Joel says. It sounds like he means it, even though there’s a line behind him and he probably needs to get to work.

You do find a few bear claws in the box Tess gave you early this morning when you stopped by the bakery.

“You’re in luck,” you say, putting it in a paper bag. “Well, Tommy is.”

“Savin’ my ass,” he tells you when you hand it to him. “Thanks, sweetheart.”

The word sends a jolt of lightning through your whole body. He doesn’t even seem to realize he’s said it but your world shifts slightly on its axis. Sweetheart.

He turns on his heel before you can give him change for his cash, his phone ringing.

“Jesus, Tommy, I said I’d –”

You let him fade into the distance and smile at your next customer.

“How can I help you?”

A few orders later you end up next to Jesse making some lattes.

“Was that Joel Miller?” Jesse asks. “Before. The guy with the black coffee and bear claw?”

You startle. “Um. It was. How do you –”

“I didn’t know he was a customer here,” Jesse says. “Does he come in a lot?”

You unpack a few more cinnamon buns that Tess gave you this morning. “Yeah, every day.”

“Damn,” he says. “He must really like your coffee.”

“Are you trying to say it’s bad coffee, Jesse?”

He huffs a laugh. “No, boss, ‘course not.” He grinds beans for a few seconds but continues once he’s done, steady hands tamping down the results. “I just know he lives like, a half-hour away. And that there are plenty of coffee shops there, too.”

You narrow your eyes. “How do you know him, Jesse?”

“His daughter, Ellie, is a friend of mine,” he shrugs. “Went over to their house plenty of times in high school.”

“Well. He’s a contractor, right? I bet he has a job out here.”

Jesse clips the espresso into the machine and starts on some milk.

“I’m not saying he doesn’t,” he muses. “I am saying that it takes at least 30 minutes to get here from where he lives.”

It’s silly. You’re half-flattered, half-confused. Yeah, you like Joel, and yeah, you’re pretty sure you’ve been flirting every day for over a month. But you figure it’s convenient for him. Coffee and an ego boost all in one.

But if he’s going out of his way to come to The Zone? Well, maybe it’s not just for the coffee.

“Your coffee is good,” Jesse stresses, seeing the gears in your mind turning. It looks like he’s trying to hide a grin. You need to stop hiring young people who have keen eyes and big mouths.

“I think the ice needs a refill,” you say, snapping back into focus.

“He might be here for something else, too -”

“Go refill the ice.”

He throws up his hands with a smirk. “I’m going!”

7:24 am. You’re on your own again and you’re fucked.

The espresso machine is working perfectly and the early rush has ended. The weather is beyond shitty. Rain falls in sheets and the sky is so dark it feels like the sun didn’t bother to rise. It pounds on the roof and blows in the window every time you open it. The awning does nothing to shield customers as they shout their orders over the wind at you. Your fingers are going numb and your front is damp enough to set your teeth chattering.

Joel’s truck pulls up and – well. You’re fucked. And he’s why.

You’re fucked because you can’t stop thinking about him. You can’t stop thinking about what Jesse said. What Joel said. Sweetheart.

A harmless crush turned into something more intense, something heavy in your stomach. You want him earnestly, fully, with every piece of you.

And you still barely know him. But you want to.

Maybe it’s the weather, maybe it’s the fact that you’re damp and cold and frustrated with your own heart and brain. But you see his truck and you decide to do something about this stupid crush.

You write your phone number on a cup with steady hands and set it aside for Joel. You scrawl on it as neatly as you can: Want to get a drink somewhere else sometime?

It’s a bit of a coward’s way out. You should just ask him, say how you feel to his face. He’d probably like that better, anyway. But, well, this just feels safer. He could ignore it, he could throw it out, he could see it and decide to never come back.

Sweetheart.

Somehow you don’t think he’ll do any of those.

The rain lashes against the window so hard you don’t open it until you see the lonely figure approach. The morning rush has been a morning trickle, a few brave souls venturing out for something from you.

Joel, it seems, is one.

You open the window and are greeted with a spray of mist.

“Gimme a sec,” you tell him. It’s so windy he leans in close to hear you. He’s wearing a jacket that’s ill-suited for the rain, his hair plastered to his forehead. Your fingers twitch with the need to brush it back.

You quickly fill the cup you’ve set aside and pass it to him with two hands so it doesn’t blow over.

“Brave of you,” you say. He’s in the rain and you’re both getting soaked but you want to talk to him desperately. It’s a buzzing need at the front of your brain. “Thought the weather would get you, too.”

“Told you,” he all but yells over the wind with a flash of white teeth. “Shitty coffee at home.”

“Drive safe, Joel,” you tell him. He nods at you and jogs back to the truck, cup in hand. You won’t be able to see if he reads it from here, but you hope so. All you have to do is wait.

And wait.

The rain stops.

You’re still waiting, phone silent.

Sunshine peeks through the clouds with a slightly surreal post-storm glow. A few more folks have made their way to The Zone but today has been slow. The clock ticks slowly towards 3 pm and your phone does not ring.

“Don’t be stupid,” you mutter. “He’s working.”

You step out of the shack and into the slightly humid air, the gravel under your feet shifting wetly. The tables you’d set out this morning are, mercifully, still there, though they’re spattered with rain. You might as well close up now.

You’re bent over the last of the chairs, wiping them down with an old rag. You’re focused, so much so that you don’t pay much attention to the hum of an engine and the crunch of tires behind you.

A door slams but you don’t turn around.

“Sorry,” you call over your shoulder. “We just closed.”

“Shame,” he says.

You whip around and find Joel, hands in his pockets. He’s in a different shirt than this morning and his jeans don’t look soaked. You’re still damp, water stains on your pants and shirt.

“Oh,” you breathe. “Hi, Joel.”

He smirks. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen you outside of that window,” he says, before jutting his chin towards the tables. “Can I help?”

You’re very aware of your whole body all at once. He’s looking at you, drinking you in like you’re his morning cup of coffee.

“Uh, sure,” you say. You want to ask why he’s here but the words won’t come. “They go in there, in the little closet on the right.” You point to the open door to the shack.

He dips his chin low just once and then crosses the distance between you in three big strides. He grabs the chair closest to you. The t-shirt he’s wearing shows his arms and you feel what he’s just said – it’s weird to be in the same space like this. You’re outside but he feels so big.

Joel’s arms flex and you swallow, following him with another chair. He stacks his in the right place and holds a hand out for yours.

“What did you write on it?” he asks, casually.

The words don’t totally register. “What?”

He doesn’t answer. His arms are crossed, brow furrowed. Your mouth goes dry.

“On my cup. This mornin’.” He keeps his gaze on yours and for some reason, you can’t look away.

“Oh – you, you didn’t see?”

He shakes his head. “Was rainin’, remember? Got smudged before I got in my truck.”

“Right.”

You tear yourself away and leave him standing there. Maybe you should just lie.

But then you think about the way his eyes crinkle at the corners when you make him laugh, and how he asks you how you are and how he brought his daughter here and how he tips and how he drives all this way for your – for you.

Joel waits, his footsteps the only indication he’s followed you.

You turn around.

“I wrote my phone number,” you say. “And I asked you on a date.”

The corner of his mouth pulls up and you think he’s…blushing?

He rubs a hand over his beard and you hope he’s hiding a smile. Your heart is in your throat, beating so loud you worry that he can hear it. All of your bravado sinks into the damp ground at your feet. Maybe you’ve read this totally wrong. Maybe he’s just a nice guy, maybe your coffee is just really good and your employees are fucking with you. He’s here to let you down easy, to tell you he’s not even available, not interested, not –

“Alright,” Joel says. He walks towards you and tugs his phone from his back pocket. “I’ll take that number.”

Oh.

He hands it over and you type it in, heart jackhammering in your chest. But you watch his face, see the quirk of his mouth and his blush and it makes you brave.

“And the date?” you ask, giving it back. Your fingers brush and your heart keeps pounding but your nerves take a sharp turn away from doubt and towards excitement.

“Well, you gonna ask again?”

You both seem to have found your footing with whatever this is. The flirt in him is back full force, and he’s looking at you in that way of his. You want to know all of his expressions. There is so much to learn.

“Are you going to say yes?”

“S’why I came back,” he admits. “Figured you’d be closin’. Hoped you’d be free.”

“So you could read the cup?”

Joel takes the other two chairs and heads for the door again. You trail him. God, his arms are distracting.

“Most of it,” he says. “Couldn’t make out the last few numbers, though.”

“Well, once we’re done here, I’m free. If you wanted to go on a date with me.”

Joel turns and you’re in the small space at the same time, your chests almost pressed together. You must smell like sweat and stale coffee but you watch as Joel inhales, eyes on yours.

“I do,” he says.

It would be so easy to kiss him, a quick, chaste press of your lips to see what he tastes like.

His pupils dilate and you sway into him for a breath before you realize what you’re doing and step back outside.

You take a deep breath of fresh air. “Great.”

He rubs the back of his neck with one hand and you head for the tables.

“Y’know,” he says. “Ellie’s been on my ass about this.”

You laugh, high and bright. “Has she?”

“That girl ain’t capable of missin’ an opportunity to stick her nose in,” he grumbles, but it’s affectionate.

“Well, I think she’s smart,” you goad.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “Reckon she is.”

Joel’s brows furrow and he takes a few quick steps into your space, so close the tips of your shoes almost touch.

“Oh,” you breathe. “Hi.”

“Hold still,” he says. He reaches for your face slowly, slow enough that you could pull away but you don’t. He brushes something from your cheek with the pad of his thumb.

“Grounds.” His voice is a little hoarse.

“Thanks,” you breathe.

He smirks but the flush creeping up his neck tells you he’s not wholly unaffected. It makes you feel…it just makes you feel.

Joel Miller likes you.

“Well, don’t just stand there,” you say.

His eyes widen slightly and he leans in just a little but you slide out of his space with a grin.

“The sooner we finish up the sooner I can buy you a drink.”

Joel laughs, loud and full. “Oh, how generous of you.”

“You’re very lucky,” you say.

“I agree,” he drawls. He taps your chin with one knuckle.

His eyes sparkle and he smiles, looking luminous in the post-storm sunshine. You see a flash of a future – watching him drink coffee in a kitchen instead of through the window of The Zone. Your hands meeting over a shared table, fingers tangling, that smile directed at you in the morning light.

Giddiness rises in your throat and spills out of you in a delighted laugh of your own. Joel just grins.

“So,” he says. “Where’re you takin’ me?”

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here!

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fluff

794 notes · View notes

whxtedreams · 2 months

Text

Lovesick in Jackson Masterlist

A Coral Island / Stardew valley AU of TLOU

Summary

Travelling across the country to the small, country, coastal town of Jackson with a population no more than 3000, sounded like a good idea when you recieved an inheritance letter informing you that your grandmother has left you her farm in her passing.

But now as you stand in front of the abandoned and crumbling farm, you think you may have bitten off more than you can chew.

Lucky for you, there's a note on the door from a rancher named Joel, letting you know he's happy to help with restoring the farm.

A little help wont hurt, right?

Pairing: Rancher!Joel x Farmer!FemReader

this series is dedicated to rosie (@toxic-seduction) as this would not exist without her.

Current Tags

will add important tags here as each chapter is posted. Each chapter will have their own tags and warnings - if there are any.

If I miss any tags, please let me know

Rancher!Joel // TLOU AU - Coral Island/Stardew Valley // Nightmares // Joel being an ashole to everyone but Ellie // Ellie does mention not wanting to eat

Master List - Ongoing Series

Current Word Cout: 6.5k

Prologue // 2k

Chapter one - Fuckin' Tourists // 4.5k

Chapter two: Comming Soon

If you want to be added to the tag list, please comment on THIS post and i'll make sure to add you. If you want to be taken off the tag list, please dm me so I don't miss your request.

#masterlist #the last of us #joel miller #pedro pascal #joel tlou #joel fanfic #joel x reader #tlou joel #tlou fanfiction #tlou #joel miller x reader

182 notes · View notes

kiwisbell · 8 months

Text

Whiskey Sour

chapter three: painkiller

Reuniting with your estranged father while you finish college in Austin has unintended consequences. His best friend, for one.

series masterlist

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

rating: 18+ (mdni)

series tags and warnings: dbf!joel being extremely criminally attractive, big ol' age gap (40s/early 20s), unprotected piv (do not follow the leader), creampie, multiple sex positions, multiple orgasms, oral sex (m and f receiving), dry humping, spitting, biting, joel miller is a MUNCH, very appropriate use of a showerhead, consensual somnophilia, yoga, heavy emphasis on payphones, daddy issues, family reunions, angst, dead mom, grief and mourning, father/daughter relationship, bartending, reader is a woman in STEM (author is not), being a student in university deserves a warning probably, attempted drugging (roofies), college boys suck, possessive sex, possessive joel, protective joel, obligatory warning for joel's salt-and-pepper hair, masturbation, wet dreams, no outbreak AU, hurt/comfort, healing, no sarah or ellie, stargazing, face-sitting, pining/yearning, happy ending

word count: ~ 5.6k

chapter 3: painkiller

Stargazing, and knowing wrong from right.

Joel doesn't quite trust your car not to blow up, so he drives you both out near Devil’s Cove when the clock strikes eleven.

You sit next to him on the truck bench, in your little skirt, and he tries not to look at the way it slips up your thighs. He cannot stop thinking about your words: Don't think you aren't getting a gift after everything you've done to help me. Part of him is thrilled to know you think about him enough to get eager about celebrating his birthday. Another part of him doesn't want to celebrate getting older. He’s old enough.

A third part doesn't give a shit about a present, when he's got you right here, right next to him.

“You were right,” he says. “I do like the telescope.”

“Did you spend a lot of time in the country?”

He drums his fingers on the steering wheel even though the truck radio is apparently tuned to a local station that does not play music. The announcer’s voice drones on about the Longhorns’ losing streak. “When I was a kid,” says Joel. “My parents had a farmhouse—raised cows, chickens, sheep, all of it. They had a business goin’ for the locals who wanted eggs or fresh meat.”

You can picture it: a younger Joel, dressed in a farmer’s flannel and a cowboy hat, herding sheep and tending to customers with that same charming smile you know now. “Do you have any siblings?”

“Younger brother. Tommy.” Joel briefly glances your way. “Lost my dad when I was ten. After that, Mom, Tommy, and I ran the place ourselves. I dropped out of high school to do it full-time when she got sick.”

You feel a twinge in your chest. “You, too, huh?”

He sighs through his nose. “Yeah. I would've been about your age.”

“Funny, the way things work out.” You lean back in your seat and turn your head back to the windshield. “But that does sound nice. A life away from all the madness. Just… quiet. Simple.”

“You'd like that?” Joel chuckles. “Thought you were a city girl.”

“I’m not saying I want to milk cows all day,” you tell him with a laugh. “Mom and I used to drive to the east coast in the summertime when I was in high school. We’d visit all the coastal towns and the little restaurants, go whale-watching. That was the only time we could really relax, outside the big city. I looked forward to those vacations most, before she got sick.”

Joel recognises the melancholy tone your voice takes when you talk about your mother. He hears it in his own voice. “She sounds like a good mom.”

“She was.” Your eyes flick to him again, and this time, he's looking at you. “I’m sorry, Joel. I would've liked to meet her.”

“I'd like that, too.” He fixes his eyes back on the road. “You, uh… you hear from Liam lately?”

“And we were having such a nice conversation,” you tease. “He lives with me, Joel. I’m bound to hear from him on a regular basis. Practically daily.”

Not the right answer. His hands tighten around the wheel. “I don’t like him.”

“I couldn't tell.” You pull your knees up to your chest and hug yourself into a tight ball. “You know I’ve never had a real boyfriend?”

Joel scoffs. “Excuse me if I have a hard time believin’ that.”

“I’m being serious!”

“Nah. No way.” Joel shakes his head. “Those idiot high school boys were linin’ up at your door the way these idiot college boys are. You’re too pretty to have never had a fuckin’ boyfriend.”

Your cheeks feel white-hot. “Joel. That’s ridiculous.”

“I ain’t lyin’.” His grin is boyish when he looks at you again and your nerves flutter. “Guys have a way of knowin’ things.”

“Oh, you're so full of shit.” You smack him gently in the arm. “If they were all so interested, why'd they never tell me?”

“Because they were boys.” He gives you a pointed look. “And so is that asshole you live with. He thinks he's got a right to you ‘cause you live with him.”

“No, he—”

“Yes, he does. Any guy would be lucky as shit to have you.”

You lift your brows, opening your mouth to retort, but Joel just looks away, that crooked smirk pissing you off as much as it makes your heart pound with girlish anxiety. “We’re here.”

You slump back in your seat as he parks in a dirt lot by the edge of the water. Just down the road, by the docks, there will be college kids gearing up to celebrate the Longhorns’ first win of the season, and some just wanting an excuse to get hammered. You hop out of the truck as Joel unlatches the gate at the back. “Should be a good view here…”

He trails off when he looks up to find you staring at the midnight sky. The light of the stars reflects in your eyes and the curve of your neck shimmers with a faint layer of sweat in the humid air. When you swallow, he watches your throat hollow, and he wonders how a man is supposed to forget you. If a man can ever see your face, your body, your wondrous, awe-struck smile, and rest peacefully.

“They’re beautiful,” you gasp. “Just like… like the coast in summertime.”

Joel surprises himself when he joins you at your side and reaches for your hand. “It’ll look better if you're laying down,” he says softly. “C’mon.”

You put your hand in his. The touch shifts his axis. The touch is an electric shock to his entire body, restructuring his pathways, reconfiguring his brain. The touch, he thinks, will forever change the way he sees you. It will change everything.

“Joel.”

“Mmm.” He realises he hasn't moved. His fingers engulf yours, your skin so soft under his rough palms that he worries he'll somehow ruin it.

“Thank you.” It’s a whisper, your pretty lips parting in the shape of a gratitude he will never deserve but will spend his moments earning as best he can. Your eyes are fixed on your joined hands, the way your thumb caresses the space between his thumb and forefinger.

He leads you toward the back of the truck. You crawl up yourself, and it's ungentlemanly of him not to help you up, but he cannot touch you again. The world will fall out from beneath his feet.

But it still does. When you shift so you're lying on your back, barely a foot from him, the earth blinks out of existence. All that remains is the faint heave of your chest, skin scattering moonlight, and the way you meet his eyes in the void.

“Gotta look up to see the stars, baby.” His voice is rough.

Your head turns and you face the sky above, but he doesn't move. Not quite yet. He savours the image of your profile, the silvery light on your face, the contentment in your eyes. Your lashes are spidery and your hair fans out beneath you, and all he wants to do is reach out. Touch. Guide you beneath him. Gaze into your eyes as he undresses you. Watch your bones melt for him, your troubles flee your brain, your mouth drop open in a long, dark whine. His name.

“That one’s Venus.” You point to a bright star overhead, and then another. “And that’s Polaris. Those are the only two I really know. And you aren't looking at the stars.”

Joel swallows hard. “No. I’m not.”

“I like it when you call me that.” Your eyes meet his again. Your noses are inches apart.

“Call you what?”

Your breath is a warm puff of air. “Baby.”

He’s losing control of his own body. His fingers crave the warmth of your skin, the heat between your thighs, the knowledge of what's under that fucking skirt. His whole body craves your closeness, needs your attention, will die without you curled up against him. His body seeks the ruination of yours. His heart seeks the comfort he knows he can give you.

“That so?” He can barely get it out.

Your eyes are wide, buttery soft, needy. “Yeah,” you sigh. “It feels good.”

Jesus Christ. “I…” His mouth is so fucking dry he can hardly swallow anymore. “I didn’t mean for—”

“I know.” He’s going to do it. He’s going to throw all of it away and touch you. He’s going to—

Your head turns back toward the sky, and your eyes flutter shut. He can see a small pearl trail down your cheek, and he realises it's a tear. “I’m sorry,” you say, your voice breaking. “This is your pre-birthday. You should be giving me ideas for a better gift.”

Joel’s own voice isn't faring much better. His laugh comes out like a hoarse whisper. “This…” He finally looks up at the stars and finds Venus. “This is all I could ask for.”

“Don’t lie to me, Miller.” There’s the playful tone he likes so much. “I’ve got your number.”

“I mean it.” He folds his hands over his stomach. “It’s peaceful out here. Reminds me of home.”

“Do you think your mom would've liked it here?” you ask.

“She would,” says Joel.

You sniffle. “Yeah, mine, too.”

Around him, the crickets chirp and the air is stagnant. It feels like a snapshot of time. Except that you're here, next to him, the warmth of your body rolling in waves over his nerves like a hundred cresting waves.

“Boys never liked me.”

Joel can't help but look at you in disbelief.

“I’m telling you the truth.” You shrug. “When I had my first crush on a boy, I avoided him like the plague, because I didn’t want to be rejected. Then I set him up with my best friend.”

Joel blinks. You laugh like you can feel his amusement. “You don't have to tell me how stupid it was. I know. I just figured, if I didn’t go for it, I’d never get hurt.”

“And what happened every time after that?” asks Joel.

“I was always too busy. I never let myself go to parties because there was always an excuse. Work, school, Mom. I had more important things to do, bigger things to worry about. Last time I went on a date, Mom convinced me to reschedule our usual hospital visit so I could go out with him. Halfway through, the hospital called me.” Your breath shudders out of you. “By the time I got there, she was mostly gone. I lost my last moments with her.”

Joel’s heart surges forward, lurching out of his chest. His hand finds a stray wisp of hair and tucks it behind your ear. It isn't in your eyes or blocking his view; he just wants to. He wants to be the one who's right here when you’re sad. He wants you to never feel like you have to put your own life in restraints—never again. “That was not your fault.”

“He was a total dud, too.” You laugh mirthlessly. “They’ve all been duds.”

And me? he wants to ask. If I put my hand here and I put my mouth there, would you deny me? Would you shove me away? Or would you let me treat you the way you deserve?

He wants to be your guiding hand. He’ll give you what you need. He’ll be as firm as you want and he’ll be gentle all the other times. He’ll show you just how wanted you are.

“You’ll find better,” he says instead. “Can’t promise they won't be fielded beforehand.”

You laugh, facing him again. “Is that so, Miller? You gonna background check them all?”

Fuck yes, I will. Joel shrugs, all pouty and grumpy again, and you just want to grace those patches of grey in his beard.

Yes, it will cross a line. Yes, it will ache so beautifully to touch him the way you want. You don't know how to reconcile these two parts of you: the part that's here to rebuild a life, and the part that wants to simply forget how difficult that life can be and drown yourself in the sweet tang of being alone with him.

“Oh! I forgot.” You bolt upright, scrambling off the truck bed so fast it gives Joel whiplash. You reach into the passenger’s side and pull out your bag. “I stole this from the kitchen. Thought you might be hungry after one cup of coffee.”

You produce a styrofoam container with a piece of chocolate cake inside. “I may have also asked Dad what kind of cake I should bake for your birthday.” You bite your bottom lip. “This’ll have to tide us over until the real thing.”

He doesn't know how to cope with the amount of affection surging up his throat, overfilling his bloodstream. Your mouth is so fucking close. How would it taste? Your dark, sexy perfume smells so good, your hair so soft and a little wind blown from the car ride. You would be so perfect, so beautiful, so soft to touch.

You watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows. He’s pine and sawdust and a little bit of mint. He’s manly, dark and a bit of grey, strong and broad. Capable. “You don't have to eat it,” you tell him, “but I brought two forks, just in case.”

His chest squeezes. “C’mon up here, baby.”

You climb back up onto the truck bed and situate yourself next to him, both of you sitting up against the back window. You hold the container as you both dig in, the cake a little too soft but still good. Still chocolate. And he's sharing it with you.

It’s not even his birthday yet.

“How’s that Daily Texan gig workin’ out for you?” he asks.

Your eyes light up. He remembered? “I’ve been put in charge of the Student Wellness section. I don't know why the fuck they thought that was a good idea.”

“Gives you an opportunity to learn how to relax.”

You roll your eyes fondly. “Any suggestions?”

“This is a good start,” offers Joel. “Stargazing.”

You pocket that idea. “At least I didn't get put on Sports.”

“Y’know I was on the swim team in high school?”

“With those shoulders? Doesn’t surprise me one bit.” You lift your eyebrows at him and all Joel can think is, I want you, I want you, I want you.

When you both decide it's time to head back home, Joel eats the last bite of cake at your request and you slide back into the passenger’s seat. “Thank you,” he says sincerely. “That was a hell of a lot more fun than trying to sleep.”

“No, it wasn't,” you laugh. “But I’m glad I could help, even a little. You don't sleep well?”

Lately, baby, it's because of you. “Pretty much not at all.”

Your brows knit together, but Joel shakes his head. “Don’t need it much, anyway. I get by just fine.”

“You tell me that when you pass out at the wheel because the caffeine wore off. Do you want me to drive?”

“You still have to drive home on a shitty alternator,” he argues, a little more worried about the state of your car than he's letting on. “I’ll be okay. I’ve gone longer on less sleep.”

You chew on your lip, and Joel brushes the rough pad of his thumb over your chin. “I’ll be okay,” he repeats. “Just buckle up.”

“Okay,” you whisper. “Just don't kill us.”

I haven’t tasted you, he thinks. Dying won’t do just yet.

In his dream, you’re wearing the black thong. Nothing else.

You knock on his bedroom door and he lets you in. He doesn't know why. He shouldn't. But he does. And you're there, your pretty tits sitting so perfectly for him, your hands demurely clasped behind your back, your eyes looking up at him expectantly. Wanting. Dark.

He takes control. He pulls you against him, his chest against your back, tilting your head back, exploring your skin with his mouth, dipping his fingers into the flimsy waistband of that godforsaken thong and ripping it in two.

In his dream, you're naked. Joel grabs handfuls of your ass while his hips batter you from behind, your slick, hot pussy sucking him in so deep that his whole body may disappear into yours. It's a dream. It doesn't make sense. But sense knocks at his ribs and cracks them in order to escape. Your mewls and moans as you take his cock replace any inkling of conscience, consciousness. You melt into the mattress and forget your worries with every thrust. He makes you forget.

That's it. That's it, baby. You can take me. My good girl. So fuckin’ good, baby, that’s—

He’s awake. Joel grunts, shucking away his covers. His cock is tenting his boxers, which he scrambles to get off as he burns from the inside out. His cock slaps against his stomach, precum pooling at his navel. He hisses, grasping his shaft at the base, his hips bucking helplessly into his hand. His head tips back against the pillows as he begins to jerk himself off to the image of you underneath him. Moaning. Whining. Joel, Joel, yes, oh, my—

“Fuck.” He grits his teeth, spitting into his hand and twisting his hand around the head of his cock. Your mouth parts around the tip and your tongue darts out to lap up the precum on his slit, and he grunts your name. It’s fucking filthy. He’s filthy. “Goddamn—”

Holding you, cradling your head, watching your mouth take him, the tip prodding your throat. Your watery eyes, your needy, leaking pussy, your knees folded so primly under you. As if his cock isn’t down your fucking throat. “Jesus,” he growls, jerking faster, the pressure building in his ears and his throat and his stomach, his balls pulling up—

His cum spills over his hand and stomach as he groans your name, long and loud, to the empty room. He pants, staring up at the ceiling. Running his clean hand over his face, he shakes his head. Mike would kill him if he knew. And he’d fucking deserve it.

Because Joel knows that he doesn't just need any warm body. He doesn't need to forget you by finding someone else. It isn't just a vague need.

It is you.

“Is this seat taken?”

Your head jerks up so fast your neck twinges. There's a guy looking at you with a sheepish smile, gesturing to the seat on your left. “Sorry,” he says. “I didn't mean to… interrupt.”

“No! No, I’m sorry. Please, feel free.”

He slides into the seat and pulls out his books. “I’m Steve, by the way.”

You're a little surprised to see him offer his hand to you. People your age still shake hands with one another? Giving him a smile, you introduce yourself. “You just had to catch me while I was lost in thought. I’m usually a lot more suave.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” says Steve. He has a charming smile; he's about your age, with dark hair and a lean figure, and a pair of kind blue eyes. “Have you started studying for the midterm?”

You snort. “Please. If I think about it for one second, I’ll be breaking all the rules of my article.”

Steve laughs, assessing you with a brief once-over. “I recognise your name. You edit for the paper, right?”

“Guilty.”

“Only if it were bad. I liked your last piece.” He places his hand over his heart. “Your dad taught you this?”

You smile. He actually read your latest article. “He did,” you say brightly. “I was freaking out over the move here, and he told me how to ground myself.”

Steve grins. “Well, it's good to know the paper has someone of quality writing for them.”

You roll your eyes. “Smooth.”

“I know. Practised it over the last couple minutes in my head.” Steve taps his pen on his notebook. His notes are neat and his handwriting is small. “Hey, if you ever decide to brave the hell that is the study guide, I’d be happy to do it with you. Okay, more like reluctant, but happy to do it with you.”

You really could use the study buddy. “Yeah. That would be great.”

“Thank God,” sighs Steve. “I thought I’d have to beg.”

“Oh, you still can, if you want.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he says with a laugh, turning to face the front of the room as the professor walks in. Wordlessly, he writes down a phone number on the corner of his page and rips it out, sliding it over to you. You stuff the scrap of paper in your bag.

Neither Joel nor your father show up at the bar tonight. They both have to get up early to drive across town for the job, but work is a little less alive without the company. Rob still makes sure to walk you to your car when your shift ends at eleven, and it only takes three turns of the key for the engine to start.

The problem is that halfway through the journey home, a torrential downpour starts slicing rain in a diagonal path to your windshield, and your engine sputters until the lights go out. “Fuck!” you cry out, turning the key again and again without luck. Your car is dead.

You climb out of the driver’s seat and wave your apology to the people behind you as you run to the bumper and begin to push in the direction of the road’s shoulder. “Come on,” you beg, shoving and digging your heels into the ground.

Several cars behind you begin to honk their horns, and it only makes your eyes fill with tears. The rain lashes you in the face and soaks your hair through to your scalp, your clothes drenched in freezing-cold water. You don't even have a jacket to stay warm.

“Come on!”

The car gives when you manage to get the front right wheel on the shoulder. Not a single person gets out to help you push the rest of the way, instead deciding to veer their cars around you once there's enough room. Still, they don't care enough not to splash you in the deepening puddles as they race by.

“Don’t worry about me,” you scream, your voice getting lost in the pounding of rain on the ground.

Shit, shit, shit. You're too far away from home to walk the rest of the way, and there isn't a payphone in sight. So, you wrestle your keys from the car out of spite, gather your bag with your work uniform, and make a decision.

He’s making dinner when there’s a knock on his front door. He cleans his hands of raw chicken and heads toward the door. It’s pouring rain; what the hell kind of solicitor wants his business this badly?

The door swings open, and you're standing on Joel’s porch, dripping wet from your head to toes, clutching your bag close to your chest. “H—hi.”

The look in your eye is so resigned, so sad, that he can't for a second think about how it looks for you to show up at his home so late at night. “Jesus,” he says. “What the fuck happened?”

“My car br—broke down. Dad isn’t h—home, and I had to wa—walk.” Your entire body is racked with relentless shivers as you hug yourself. “Do you m—mind if I use your dryer?”

Joel’s heart cleaves in two at the sight of your soaked-through jeans, your drenched sweatshirt, and his blood simmers at the thought of you having to walk home without anyone to keep you safe.

“C’mere, baby,” he says, brows pinching as he ushers you inside and envelops you in his arms. Your whole body sags into him, and he doesn't give a shit that rainwater is seeping through his clothes. You’re cold and he’s warm, and you can relax. Fuck, just being held like this makes you sniffle, forgetting the cold, damp walk and the pile of work you haven't done and the money you don't have in favour of imprinting the feeling of his hard chest and his soft belly pressed against you.

“Joel…”

Your weak, soft voice rattles in his brain and tastes like honey on his tongue. He pulls away to cup your face in his hands, moving your damp hair from your face. “You’ll catch a cold. “Let’s get you out of those clothes, okay?”

You nod, slipping off your shoes and letting him lead you to his bedroom. “Take whatever you want,” he tells you, gesturing toward his closet where all his shirts are hanging up. “Pants are in the drawer there. You want coffee? I’m just making dinner.”

Despite yourself, a little laugh slips out. “You’re making d—dinner at mid—midnight.”

“Yeah, well, maybe I was waitin’ for you.” His hands caress your arms, up and down, up and down, watching the tension in your shoulders ebb away. “I’ll let you shower.”

“I d—don't want to stay,” you tell him. “I mean, I do, b—but it’s s—so late.”

He shakes his head, pressing his lips to the crown of your head. “Shhh, baby. You've never been a bother and that hasn't changed now.”

“Joel.” He turns at the doorway to face you again. “Thank you.”

He leaves without another word because he doesn't trust himself not to rush back inside and gather you up in his arms once more. You're in his goddamn bedroom. You're feet away from the bed where he jerked off to a dream of you last night. And you can never know. You will never know—no matter how many lines he crosses.

After your shower, you pick out a too-big sweatshirt emblazoned with his company logo and a pair of grey sweatpants. Your cheeks feel warm knowing that he's worn these, maybe even slept inside them, and you dry your hair in a towel. You feel clean, less miserable, and bone-tired, but you still hesitate before you turn the knob and leave Joel’s bedroom.

He’s in the kitchen—you can smell chicken, steamed broccoli, maybe cheese?—and your mouth waters. You didn't know you were hungry until now. Joel’s gaze finds you when he hears footsteps.

You. Wearing his clothes. Dressed in his sweatpants. You even fucking smell like him, your hair cleaned with his shampoo and your body washed with his soap. He may keel over. Blood rushes to his cock, filling it out in his own sweatpants, and if you notice, you don't say a word.

Settling into the chair at the little, circular dining table, you meet his eyes across the way. “This looks good, Joel. Thank you.”

“Where’s your car?” he asks, his voice hoarse.

“On the shoulder of a road somewhere,” you reply. “Your neighbourhood was closest, and there aren't exactly many payphones in the suburbs. I’ll call a tow truck in the morning.”

“You pushed your own car to the side of the road?” Joel’s angry instincts are prickling again, his ears burning at the thought of you alone in the dark and the rain, helpless to get anywhere but to him. “Did someone help you?”

Your eyes find a fascinating spot on the table, your silence giving him all the answers he needs. Your clothes were even flecked with mud when you came to him, meaning you'd been splashed by passing cars. Joel’s jaw ticks, his fingers flexing into fists.

He couldn't fix this. He couldn't be there when you needed help. He couldn't even know about it until the damage was already done. “Fuck, baby.”

“It’s okay.” You meet his eyes again, giving him a sad smile. “I’m all right.”

He sighs harshly through his nose. “Come here.”

You follow orders beautifully, closing the distance between you and him. Slowly, so slowly, you bracket his thighs with yours and lower yourself onto his lap, your arms winding around his neck.

He knows you can feel the insistent press of his cock against your thigh. He knows the telltale widening of your pupils, the darkness in your eyes—the thrilling catch of your breath when he finally lifts his hand to the small of your back, fitting you against him.

There is no going back from a thing like this.

“You're upset,” he says into the thinning air. It feels like a slight. “You don't want me. Not like this.”

You don't reply. You just begin to move.

“Jesus.” His hands find your hips on instinct, squeezing hard as if he can get you to stop. “Shit. What are you—”

“I want you,” you whisper as your hips gyrate slowly over his stiff cock. You never break eye contact. “I want all of you.”

Your forehead drops to his, your noses brushing as he keeps pulling you closer, guiding your hips over him, betraying the words that leave his mouth. The heat between your thighs warms his body, your cunt dragging over his length and your mouth dropping open at the sparks of pleasure against your clit.

Joel grits his teeth, helping you move. “Fuck. Fuckin’ hell, baby.” His cock twitches, leaning precum into his boxers. “That’s it. Take what you want. Take what you need, baby girl.”

He will drink your soft moans down and guide your whimpering voice into his mouth. But you need to come first. You need to take, so he can give. “So fuckin’ good,” he grunts.

“Joel.” It’s a mewl, quiet and pitched high.

He thinks about the truck bed, the stars, the times he wanted and wanted but never took. But it's never been about him. This is you, baring yourself for a man who will hold you and admire you and expect nothing in return. He doesn't. He wants you to know it.

This is about you. He can be selfish later.

He can feel that you're close, your hips stuttering and your breath catching on every intake. “I know. I’ve got you. Just keep goin’.”

Maybe it's his voice. Maybe it's the consistent pressure against your clit. Maybe it's the need to be warm and safe and pliable in his arms. You come, grasping the back of his neck, your fingers tangling in his messy hair as your other hand clutches his shoulder. But he's got you. He won't let you fall.

“That’s it, sweetheart.” He holds you close as you shiver, the cold pulsing out of your body and warmth settling deep inside. Your brain is a bit fuzzy, your eyes a little unfocused. His hand cups your cheek, pulling you away so he can look at you from a better angle. The sounds and sights of your orgasm will linger on the ceiling of his brain like a light that's always on.

You just came on his lap. You've never even kissed him, and the mere feel of his body ground you into a fine golden powder. “I meant it,” you tell him, combing his tousled hair away from his eyes. “I want all of you.”

“You’ve got me,” he says, and he means it. You’ve both tangled a hundred lines into one another; the mess you've both made is unrecognisable. A Gordian knot. But this is real, and it's clear. This is true and present and whatever happens next is inconsequential compared to the peace he feels when he has his hands on your body.

There are no muddied waters when he looks into your eyes.

“When's the last time you ate?” he asks.

An answering rumble in your stomach makes him chuckle. You giggle, still somewhat high from your orgasm. “Today. Yesterday. What time is it?”

He squeezes your thighs and gestures with his chin toward your side of the table. “Eat.”

“But…” Your eyes drop to the space between you, where his cock visibly strains against his sweatpants. You take your lip between your teeth. “You're hard.”

“Yeah, I am. You’re a sexy fuckin’ woman who just used me to get off.” His thumb traces your bottom lip. “I’m old, baby. I can be patient.”

You pout, but he pats your ass and lifts you off him. Your legs tremble as you lower onto your chair. It’s a plain dinner, and it’s not steaming hot anymore, but at least he can cook. And it tastes so much better after an orgasm. After the hellish night you've had. Joel watches you while you eat, and you watch him, too.

“I’ll drive you home,” he says, breaking the silence. “And I’ll call the tower in the morning.” You swallow a piece of broccoli. Joel points his fork at you. “And don’t argue.”

“I wasn’t—”

“Yeah, you were.” He’s right. “You’ve got enough to worry about.”

You look at him awhile. His cheeks feel warm under your scrutiny, the way you openly admire his face, his body, his hands. “I think you're my hero, Joel Miller.”

Jesus, if that doesn’t make his chest puff up a bit. “That so?”

You take a sip of his lukewarm coffee. “Will you let me show you?”

Under the table, your foot trails up his ankle. Joel breathes in hard. As much as he wants to bend you over the fucking table and pound you senseless, you need to rest. And he needs to make sure you get safely home, where your father will never hold suspicion of the things Joel has done to his daughter. He’ll fashion a story that's close to the truth. He gave you his clothes and drove you home, and he did not let you grind on his cock until you came on top of him.

“I won't tell him,” you say softly. “I won’t.”

Joel senses your unease, your hesitation. “I know, baby. I trust you.”

The smile creeps up your face and fills his ribcage with warm light until it's seeping through the bones. “I know what I’m going to give you for your birthday.”

#kiwisbell's fics #pedro pascal #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #whiskey sour #tlou hbo #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction

368 notes · View notes

dnvrsmedia · 1 year

Text

The Farmer, The Wrangler, & The Cowboy - TLOU II AU

Part One - Spring Morning

18+ series

Summary: You're the new farmer in town with a big heart and an even bigger love for two women. What happens when these two women apparently hate each other?

It was a warm spring morning in Jackson, Wyoming. Life was slowly blossoming as the days started to get warmer and longer. Sweat glided down your smooth face as the sun beamed brightly onto the Earth. Your hands are currently busy lifting up the heavy bails of hay. You were a farmer here at the commune. You were one of the younger ones on the farm, but you didn’t let that fool anyone. You were more than capable of taking care of and maintaining the land. You liked it that way too. Tending to the Earth, thanking it for its bountifulness. With a steady hand, you firmly grasp the last bail of hay and fling it to the top of the pile. Your strong forearm wipes the sweat from your brow with a squint. You really should listen to your Mama and wear those sunglasses. You were pulled from your thoughts with the beautiful view of the wrangler in the distance.

Her short auburn hair tucked behind her ears as a hat lay snugly upon her head. Your eyes trail from the top of her head, down to her elongated neck. Constellations of freckles and moles litter her body like they were hand placed from whatever almighty that may rule from above. Her neck is briefly exposed as her muscles contort and contract with her movements. You’re not sure what she's doing but you definitely are enjoying the view. Her tank top is doing very little to protect her pale skin from the harshness of the sun. You swear you could see the beads of sweat glissing on her skin from here. Her muscles- oh god were her muscles beautifully on display. Distally from her muscles that make you squeeze your thighs together, are her most valuable assets. Ellie Williams has the most beautiful hands you think you have ever seen. Her strong fingers that can shoot a pistol quicker than anyone in the whole state of Wyoming. Ellie made it known to all who were in her path of how proud she was of her hands. Although, she never needed to do that. You see, Ellie Williams’ legacy didn’t only have to deal with her amazing wrangling and shooting skills. Ellie was a player. She didn’t mind knowing that every woman fawned over her and that all the men wanted to be her. Unbeknownst to most, all that didn’t matter to her. Ellie only wanted who she had her eyes on, and Ellie Williams always got what she wanted.

With a quick look up from what she was doing, Ellie noticed you staring up at her. Immediately a devious smirk adorned her face. If Ellie was one thing, she was a tease. Leaving her unfinished work behind, Ellie walked down from the stables to talk to you. Panic set into your body as soon as you saw her moving towards you. Trying to act like you didn’t notice her, you began working on your task. You really wished that Ellie was on her way somewhere else; I mean you always end up making a fool out of yourself whenever you were around her. If you were to be a respectable farmer, then you were to keep your head down and get to work.

“Howdy,” a raspy drawl that you thought about way too often breaks you out of your train of thought.

You let out an exhale in readiness to make an absolute ass out of yourself. You look up from your task of piling hay to see Ellie standing proud directly in front of you. Her cocky smirk plastered onto her mouth as she tastefully bites her lip. Ellie isn’t like you. She doesn’t shy away from letting it be known that she’s checking someone out. That is exactly what she does with you right now. Her eyes drink in your curves like a tall glass of water on a hot day. You feel faint within her vicinity which causes you to shy away from her demanding eye contact.

“Hey, Ellie. Beautiful day out, huh? M’ sure the horses are lovin’ the extra sunlight. I know Bessy is.” A cow moos loudly in the distance which causes you to let out a giggle.

Bessy was your favorite thing maybe on the whole entire planet earth. She was the first cow that you helped birth and now you two are attached at the hip. Everyone knew that you and Bessy were best friends, including the very charming cowboy named Abby. Ellie would never admit it outloud, but she was jealous of the close knit relationship that the both of you had. Ellie wanted to be seen the way that Abby was in your eyes. Pot calling the kettle black, she knows, but it's a loop that she’s stuck in. She can’t get your attention, so she plays with other girl’s hearts, you think of her like that is all she’s good for, she sees you with Abby, and the cycle continues. She chuckles at you and nods.

“Yeah, Shimmer was all excited. It was so hard to even get her to stand still.” She laughs at the memory.

“Your girlfriend almost fell off her horse, that's how excited they all were.” Ellie smirks at the flush of your face.

“Abby? Oh we- uh she’s not uh.” You stumble over your words. Did you have feelings for your very strong and beautiful blonde friend? Of course you did, but you will never admit that you are at a crossroads with your feelings. Ellie and Abby make your heart feel whole in two different yet very similar ways and that terrified you.

“I was just fucking with you, pretty lady.” Ellie picks a piece of straw and puts a part in her mouth to chew. You get blindsided by her strong jaw contracting as her mandible and maxilla close for her teeth to collide together. You look away quickly to compose yourself.

“Oh uh I knew that, haha- um anyway, are you gonna go to the spring fling?” You wrung your hands in between each other, your anxiety manifesting physically. Ellie scoffed at the thought of being in a room with too many hypermasculine men and her ex flings in one space fighting for her attention.

“I uh- I don’t know yet. Maybe if a pretty girl like you is going then, maybe.” She smirks and tilts her hat to you. You look up at her with the most heart melting smile. You shake your head and look down to hide your excitement.

“Mhm! I think I might stop by or somethin’, my Mama said I gotta get out more that isn’t just coming to see the animals and Bess. You didn’t need to know that um-” there you go making a fool out of yourself.

Yet, Ellie found your ramblings absolutely adorable. She stood there with her hand on her hip and a sly smile at your overshare. It didn’t escape her that you mentioned Bessy the cow like she wasn’t an animal. She adored the bond you created with that sassy son of a bitch.

“But yeah Abby s’ gonna go n’ she told me to come by so um I’ll be there!” You awkwardly giggled as you looked back up to Ellie. Her smile faltered at the mention of Abby, but she quickly covered it up at the thought of seeing you all dressed up.

“Well then,” Ellie moves closer to you and picks a piece of rouge hay out of your hair, “I guess I’ll be seein’ you later tonight, darlin’. Be good now.” Ellie tilts her hat at you once more as a goodbye and walks back up to the stables, leaving you daydreaming about her auburn hair and beautiful eyes.

You knew that Abby and Ellie had…interesting thoughts about each other. The real mystery is what happened. Apparently before you moved here to Jackson, Abby and Ellie were close friends until they weren’t. You even tried to ask Abby about it, but she would just change the subject with a stone cold face. You didn’t have time to ask Ellie since you spent the better half of your time with her trying not to make a bigger ass of yourself then you already have. You let out a sigh and began finishing up your work for the day. Hopefully you can get through your day without any more distractions.

You finish your tasks pretty quickly after your interaction with Ellie surprisingly. The heat had picked up a bit as the afternoon sun came. You had a thick flannel on that is now discarded while you tend to the chickens. Sweat was dripping from places that you didn’t even know could possibly sweat. The glorious life of a farmer, huh? You giggle to yourself as Stacie, the mama hen, runs over her chicks for some feed.

“Now, now, Stacie, that's not how you treat your babies is it?” A familiar voice is heard from behind you. A wide smile makes its way to your face as you turn around to see your best friend.

“She’s just hungry, Abs. That’s what you look like whenever I cook.” You giggle. You’re finally able to take a good look at Abby and good god…

Abby stood in front of the chicken coop with one beautifully strong arm leaning up against the old wood. Her thumb looped around her belt buckle that sat on top of her oh so very tight work jeans. The denim sculpting her god-like thighs, leaving not much to the imagination. She lets out a chuckle you know all too well and pushes herself off of the entrance.

“Oh c’mon sweetheart, ya know your cookin’ is heavenly.” She smirks and moves to help feed the chickens.

“Lemme take that for ya’ darlin’.” Abby mutters as she takes the heavy bucket of feed from your hands. You look away to try and hide your newfound shyness. Abby smiles to herself thinking about how you’re just too sweet. Her sweet little farmer.

You clear your throat and wring out your fingers in your other hand.

“I uh talked to Ellie earlier…” You all but whispered, nervous about bringing up the girl to your best friend. Abby froze for a second and then continued to finish the bucket of feed.

“Oh yeah?” she answered with a clenched jaw.

“Mhm, n she’s gonna come to the spring fling!” You said excitedly.

Abby tried not to roll her eyes at the idea of the girl being there. She knew you wanted the both of them to get along, but something within her couldn’t let whatever happened go. Abby let out a sigh and put the bucket onto the floor of the coop.

“Ya know I just wanted to go with you, pretty girl. Ya know Ellie n’ I don’t get along like that.” Abby turns her body to you, hands on her hips. You roll your eyes at Abby which visibly makes her more upset.

“Now, don’ be givin’ attitude to me like that, darl. I’d watch yourself if you want to go to this thing.” Abby moved closer to your body, lifting your chin up with her calloused fingers. You gulp as you nod your head.

“Sorry s’ just you know I want you two to get along. Ya’ both mean lots to me.” You pout.

Abby seems to take your apology and lets go of your chin. She leans down and plants a peck on your warm, sun bitten cheek.

“I know you do, darl’, I promise I'll be on my best behavior if she is too, okay?” She smiles kindly at you as a wide smile adorns your face. A small squeal leaves your body that Abby finds endearing.

“Thank you, Abby!” You jump and give her a hug. You couldn’t wait to spend the night with both of your favorite people.

730 notes · View notes

chiriwritesstuff · 4 months

Text

Meet Me at the Farmers Market - A Christmas Special - 🎅 Santa's Baby ❄️

A Farmers Market! Joel AU x Confident! Plus Sized! F! Reader

Series Masterlist

Series Summary: What does a Contractor do in his spare time? Sell his wood carvings at the Saturday Farmers Market, of course! A Grumpy x Sunshine Joel Miller series collective of one shots

Chapter Rating: T

Word Count: 1.4K

Chapter Warnings & Notes: Explicit language, Miller Family Hijinks, Joel's in a costume, Ellie's in a costume, everyone is in a costume!, Naughty Santa, Tommy just can't help himself, One big-time jump into the future!, Joel is a girl dad through and through, Merry Christmas ya filthy animals!

Summary: What happens when Joel is forced to be the market's resident Santa? This story takes place five years after Pt. 6

A/N: ... and the Miller Family Hijinks™ are back!

In all seriousness, I want to thank everyone who has read, shared, liked, and loved this little series of mine. What came from an insane idea one day working at the farmers market to where we are now, I am so thankful for all of you that has supported me and my silly little series this year! I am so so so happy you all love Farmers Market Joel, and I can't wait to write more for you all! Here is a little Christmas treat set a few years in the future. I hope you all enjoy! Merry Christmas, everyone!

Dividers by @saradika

“Tommy, you fucking owe me… big time.”

Joel shifts uncomfortably in his seat, the cheap polyester of the ill-fitting Santa suit clinging to his bare skin, leaving him itchy beyond belief. Thank god it’s decently cold in Austin this time of year, he thinks to himself- if I had to do this in 90-degree weather… he pulls at the offending white beard strapped on his face, “Tell me why I’m being held against my will being Santa yet again-“

“Oh, come on, Joel, no swearing in front of the kids!” Tommy teases, slapping his brother's back as he fiddles with the digital camera fixed in front of Joel, making sure that it sits steady on its tripod. “Besides, you certainly look the part, you know. Maybe you could lay off on the after-work beers once in a while.”

“Go fuck yourself, asshole-“

“I thought we were going to try not to bicker and cuss each other out this year?” Sarah suddenly interjects, an elf hat fixed on her head as she smooths out her elf costume. She smirks, turning to a not-too-pleased Ellie in her costume, muttering to herself about getting paid to endure the torture of volunteering for the annual Christmas festival at the market. “Oh Ellie, you look so-“

“Stupid? Because I feel like a moron-" she chides, stomping next to Tommy as she fiddles with the camera. Tommy whacks her hands away as he shoos her off. “This is so fucking embarrassing! At least Joel doesn’t have to wear a pillow under that suit-“

Three of the four Millers burst into laughter, Joel glaring at them as he shakes his head. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, glad y'all are having a blast at my expense… next time Maria asks for a Santa, you-“ he points at Tommy, his face still red from laughing, “as her husband, should volunteer yourself-“

“… but you wear the suit so well, brother! Besides, I’m sure Sunflower would love for you to climb up her chimney…” Tommy interjects with a mischievous grin, sending the group into another fit of laughter.

“Oh gross!” Ellie shrieks, “Please tell me you’re going to burn that suit afterward!”

“Okay Millers, are you ready?!” Maria claps her hands together as she approaches, a wide smile on her face as she pushes Tommy aside, settling herself behind the camera. “Got all of the swear words out of your system? Let’s get into our places, there’s a lot of antsy kids waiting for Santa, we can’t keep them waiting, can we!”

Joel adjusts the too-big Santa trousers once more and gives her a thumbs up. “Okay, Let’s get this shit over with!”

“Dad, your beard is crooked,” Sarah laughs, reaching over to fiddle with the fake beard and kissing his cheek. “For the record, you are the best Santa the market has ever seen…”

“… and yet, this doesn’t mean that you’re getting a new car-“

“… she’s going to love it,” Sarah cuts him off, a small smile on her face. “Besides, don’t you think she’ll be happy to see you all dressed up?”

Joel smiles at that, nodding. “I hope so, I’m doing this just for her, you know?”

“Yeah, Dad, I know.” His eldest daughter laughs, “You’re going to kill it!”

After what feels like forever, families keep streaming in as the day goes on. Kids of all shapes and sizes take their turns on Joel's lap—some looking terrified, others just thrilled to meet Santa. Thankfully, the line finally starts thinning out as the last hour of the festival approaches.

Joel, finally catching a break, stands up to stretch. He twists his back, and you can practically hear his body protesting in agony. "I'm getting too old for this shit," he sighs, frowning.

"Excuse me, Santa," a little voice calls out from behind. "Is it my turn?"

Joel can't help but smile as he turns around, facing a little girl, no older than four, her head tilted to the side. She sports a wide grin and a pink beanie atop her head, her brown hair fashioned in charming braids, holding her mother's hand. "Sure, baby girl. Come to Santa!" Joel exclaims, settling back into his sleigh. He pats his thigh invitingly, the girl's mother giving you a knowing wink as she carries her onto Joel's lap.

“So, have you been a good girl this year?”

The girl beams at him, bouncing up and down as she nods. "Yes! I water all the plants at my mommy’s stand-" she points off into the distance, "and my daddy said that if I’m a good girl, he’s going to teach me to carb animals too!" She exclaims, "Just like my sisters! I’m a big girl now, that’s why!"

"Is that right? How old are you now?"

She holds up four little fingers. "I’m FOR!"

"... and what’s your name, pretty girl?" Joel asks with a twinkle in his eye.

“I’m Anna Miller!” she replies, her hand raised in excitement. “You can call me Annie! My mommy and daddy sell stuff at the market, do you know them?”

“I might,” Joel replies knowingly, giving her mother a wink. “Your daddy tells me that you have been very good this year!” Joel plays along, a conspiratorial smile shared between you and him. The enchantment of the moment continues as Annie beams with joy at the confirmation from Santa himself.

“Really?” she cries, “I’m so happy, I want to learn how to make my favorite animal, my daddy promised! He’s not here today,” she pouts, “it’s just me and mommy! I miss him. Mommy said he’s busy working his other job, do you think daddy is going to come to the market before it closes?”

“Well, baby girl,” Joel smiles as he winks at her mother once more, “as Santa, I can promise you that he’s going to be here, I’ll make sure of it. What’s your daddy’s name?” Joel continues the charade, eager to sprinkle a bit more magic into his daughter's day.

“Joel! My daddy’s name is Joel Miller! Do you know him?!”

“I sure do!” Joel replies, patting her back as Maria takes a photo of the two of them. “We are really good friends, you know?”

Anna turns back to you as you stifle a laugh. “Mommy, did you know Daddy is friends with Santa?! All of my friends are going to be jealous! Can you call Daddy and tell him his friend is here?” She leaps off of Joel's lap, running to you as you hike her up onto your hip. Joel hurriedly rips off the Santa costume, leaving him in his undershirt and jeans as he smirks at his wife and daughter.

"Sure, baby," you coo, looking over your shoulder as you laugh at Joel, giving him a nod, making sure the coast is clear.

"Hey, baby," he says from behind, his daughter squirming in your grasp.

"Daddy!" she shrieks, wiggling herself from Sunflower as she barrels into Joel. "You're here!" She frowns as she takes him in, her lip wobbling as she starts to cry.

Joel looks at you in horror, turning his attention back to his daughter as she cries in his arms, moving her back and forth as he attempts to console her. "Baby, what's wrong?"

"Daddy, why do you have Santa's beard on you?" Annie innocently replies, pulling on the cheap beard as Ellie erupts in laughter from behind, Sarah whacking her sister as she tries to get her to settle down. "Are you old like Santa?"

"It's okay, baby," Tommy suddenly appears, his smirk as wide as Tim Curry's from Home Alone. "He's older than him, don't you know? That's why they're such good friends!"

"Oh, go fuck-"

"Language!" you scold Joel, covering your daughter's ears as you approach him, kissing him on the lips. Joel attempts to take off the offensive beard, your hand suddenly halting his movements. "Keep it on," you whisper in his ear, "Maybe Santa might let me sit on his lap later, do you think you can ask him, being that you're such good friends and all?" you tease, pinching his ass.

"Oh, I think I can convince him," he winks, slapping your ass as you jump in surprise. "Have you been a good girl this year? Or have you been naughty? I think Santa likes them-"

"Gross! Get a room ya filthy animals!" Ellie yells, ripping off her elf hat as she throws it at Tommy, "This is the last time, you hear me?"

#pedro pascal #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller x female reader #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x plus size reader #joel tlou #joel the last of us #tlou fanfiction #tlou hbo #tlou fic #joel miller fic #joel miller imagine #meet me at the farmers market

74 notes · View notes

moodywyrm · 1 year

Text

about me + master list

hi, I'm moony! I use she/they pronouns and I'm a 21 yr old college student who loves writing <3

my blog is pretty much all tlou2 writing rn, but I also love Stranger Things, Arcane, Overwatch, and The Legend of Korra <3

Proud co-mom (with @pinknightsinmymind) of the Farmhand to Farmer Abby and Sevika aus, as well as Rockstar Sevika

DISCLAIMER: any and all college! basketball! abby fics I do are credited to @elsweetheart who basically kicked off the basketball! abby and (in my opinion) writes the best basketball abby!! all of mine are specific to a chubby reader n au that I’m slowly building up (with y’all’s help <3), but if u want the OG, go to kittie <3 in general go to kittie she’s wonderful!! a delight!!

Be warned, my blog is NSFW, so Minors Do Not Interact. If I get the feeling you are a minor, and you don’t indicate otherwise in your bio, you will be blocked. Once again: MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS GET BLOCKED.

And since y’all can’t think critically. ED BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT. fuck off. my blog is heavily aimed at being a safe and loving space for fat girls. literally choke on my metaphysical dick if you think you can bring that shit onto my page.

if u wanna support my writing, I love getting asks n replies n reblogs!! u could also buy me a coffee <3 And I have a wishlist, on throne 💕

not all of my work is on here! my long poly! steddie fic, as well as my old AOT work, are only on AO3

mdni banners by @cafekitsune !! this will stay here for as long as i use them, so if I forget to put a disclaimer on any nsfw content from here on, this is here!

Random Stuff

Sapphic Book Recs

Hozier Song Recs

General Book Recs

reading update - august 4th 2023

Stranger Things

thoughts on nancy and robin’s friendship (and maybe more)

thoughts on the first time nancy came home from college

thoughts on being eddie’s chubby lil partner - suggestive

little reassurances - eddie munson x lexi (commissioned)

soft breath, beating heart - eddie munson x chubby! reader - suggestive

excerpt from “why can’t this be love” - poly! eddie munson x chubby! reader x steve harrington (the magnum opus)

fresh hot buns - eddie munson x reader - suggestive

you know it’s not the same as it was - eddie munson x reader

The Last of Us Part Two

book patrol - ellie williams x chubby! fem! reader

TLOU2 drabbles masterlist (in universe and various au’s)

college! basketball! abby masterlist (with chubby reader and bookworm reader and chubby bookworm reader :) )

farm au Abby Anderson masterlist

Bonus for TLOU and Arcane: the cutest exchange I’ve ever had about Farmer Abby and Farmer Sevika

Arcane

no breakdowns here - college! vi x reader

abby and vi tapping your pussy after making you squirt - nsfw

college! vi kissing her gf’s back

vi taking care of you when you’re on your period - suggestive (like one comment)

vi taking care of you when you have chronic pain - leg cramps

cuddling with a needy + clingy vi

taking care of vi on her period - suggestive (one comment)

giving vi a back massage - suggestive

vi being touchy with a chubby girl - suggestive

vi when her gf sleeps naked - suggestive bordering into smut at the end

cuddling naked with vi - suggestive

vi loves fat pussy! - nsfw

vi with nipple piercings - nsfw

sucking on vi’s nipples - nsfw

vi's endless stamina - nsfw

vi + ankle kisses - nsfw

sub! vi getting strapped - nsfw

vi + bear hugs

taking a bath with vi - nsfw/suggestive

heavy petting with vi - nsfw/suggestive

vi laying between her chubby gf’s thighs

Sevika

farm au! sevika masterlist

rockstar sevika masterlist

sevika bouncing a big girl on her strap - nsfw

sevika being needy and eating you out - nsfw

sevika with a chubby! short! gf sitting on her lap

face-sitting with sevika as a big girl - nsfw

sevika and chubby! gf at the beach - suggestive, like one comment

cuddling with sevika after work

ikea with sevika

cuddling with Sevika when your tummy hurts

short tiny sevika angst w/ hozier’s “unknown/nth”

sevika and using a smaller strap than you asked for as a joke - nsfw

sevika with pierced nips <3 - nsfw

sevika holding your pussy and cunt when she sleeps - suggestive

Ambessa Medarda

some thoughts about ambessa medarda - short nsfw

Overwatch

missed you - Brigitte Lindholm x reader - nsfw

The Legend Of Korra

lin beifong getting her frustrations out with her wife -nsfw

lin beifong in a suit - nsfw

Resident Evil

carlos oliveira’s shaggy hair - nsfw

college! jill valentine x bookworm reader

#masterlist #about me

135 notes · View notes

bicuriousbarnes · 6 months

Text

Farmer Ellie 🌾

-part 1-

can you tell I’m a slut for singlets and overalls

41 notes · View notes

animationstarlover1983 · 5 months

Text

Fnaf system reboot au

The suburban glamrocks: after the pizzaplex incident is dealt with Gregory and his friends each take one of the glamrocks home with them to keep them safe and live normal people lives, the glamrocks help around and even get jobs to support their new families, since it’s dangerous for them to be outside where people will see them they wear disguises in order to blend in and avoid any suspicious eyes (especially fazbear entertainment llc since they don’t know if they’re looking for them or not.) they also just like to go out and have fun.

1. Gregory: freddy, job: hypermarket clerk/soon manager

2. Cassie: Roxanne, job: mechanic/handywomen

3. Tony: Bonnie, job: tour guide/event planner

4. Ellis: foxy, job: physical therapist assistant

5. Amelia: chica, job: cafe waitress/baker

6. Wes: Montgomery, job: gardener/farmer

#fnaf #alternate universe #fnaf security breach #fnaf tales from the pizzaplex #fnaf gregory #fnaf cassie #fnaf tony #fnaf ellis #fnaf glamrock freddy #fnaf roxanne wolf #fnaf glamrock bonnie #fnaf glamrock chica #fnaf glamrock foxy #fnaf montgomery gator

14 notes · View notes

elllteo · 8 months

Note

kigu matteo! kigu matteo! kigu matteo! or make him. a farmer.

YESSS YESSSS...I did both. for fun <3

I have a stardew valley au with him and ellis but surprisingly I haven't drawn much for it, so this will have to do!!!! he's sitting in the sun for a minute, early morning, enjoying the warm before it gets TOO warm

cursing Matteo with my personal plight of "getting caught in shit while trying to walk around corners too fast"

I've nearly torn my entire boob off doing this u_u He's a raccoon but its redundant bc he's already monster mode KGFJLHSD

#ask meme #answers #art requests #my art #matteo #ehehehhe #morganpdf #thank you for indulging me KJLGHSLDFJK

11 notes · View notes

innytoes · 8 months

Note

Carrie the Lifetime/Hallmark movie star AU

-Carrie as Girl Who Got Out Of Her Small Town To Make It Big As A Pop Star and never had to return to the countryside again.

-Except she has to return to her small town because Urgh, she has to go back because her father is all 'they want you to give a speech at the local high school to inspire young girls!' and her agent is like 'yeah that's good PR, you gotta go'.

-She's not sure why she has to go at Christmas, she hates the whole December month, she usually tries to book concerts somewhere warm so she doesn't have to Deal With Snow, Ew.

-She's very annoyed there's no limo waiting for her at the airport, and her agent is all: I got you a nice car. What do you mean where's the driver? It's a rental.

-Carrie is still fuming at the indignity of driving herself home and how much the town hasn't changed when she skids on some ice and gets stuck in a snowbank.

-Of course a handsome local Christmas Tree Farmer Math Teacher is there to help her out. He's like: yikes yeah that car is really stuck in there, let me give you a ride to where you need to go. He is a Gentleman who helps her out of the car and carries all her luggage to his truck and helps her in.

-Yes she is sharing the bench seat with an extremely cute and very affectionate border collie and she would be grumpy that now she smells like dog but Ellie is very cute and very happy to see her even though they just met.

-Reggie very sincerely thanks her for what she's doing For The Children and tells her all about how he moved here a few years ago to become the math teacher and how the community welcomed him and it feels like he has a family for the first time in a long time and blablabla.

-Carrie realises that sounds kind of nice because she doesn't even talk to anyone who isn't a work contact or her doorman and hasn't in months.

-Insert Reggie inviting her to cute small town things like the bake sale or ice skating and it's all very schmoopy and cue and hallmark christmas movie and they FALL IN LOVE.

-The kids in Reggie's class totally plant a mistletoe somewhere so they HAVE to kiss.

-Carrie remains a Pop Star Diva Who Travels The World but instead of going home to a cold and empty LA apartment, she comes home to a cute little house and a boyfriend and a dog.

#or wait did you mean 'carrie has played the main role in over 70 hallmark movies'#because that would also be an AU #she thinks it's all bullshit and she doesn't believe in love after some terrible relationships and her costar fucking her over #and then she has a meetcute and REFUSES TO DO ANYTHING because THAT'S NOT HOW THE REAL WORLD WORKS #but she keeps running into Reggie and Ellie and eventually they win her over and SHE FALLS IN LOVE ALL ROMANTICALLY #julie and the phantoms #carriexreggie #AUs are awesome #I wrote a thing #you get two for the price of one apparently

14 notes · View notes

dnvrsmedia · 1 year

Text

The Farmer, The Wrangler, & The Cowboy - TLOU II AU

Part Two - One Step

18+ series

Summary: You're the new farmer in town with a big heart and an even bigger love for two women. What happens when these two women apparently hate each other? Part 2 follows the events of the Spring Fling.

Part One I Series Masterlist

You were absolutely elated on your way back home from the farm. You lived down the street from the town’s square, where the Spring Fling will take place. You had moved out from your mother’s house a little over a year ago, packing your things and heading to the familiar town of Jackson, Wyoming. Your Grandfather used to live in Jackson, so life up here wasn’t all that unfamiliar. You and your mother would make the 30 minute commute every weekend to visit him and the countryside. Through him you were able to learn all the farming tricks you know,him being the reason why you fell in love with the earth and animals in the first place.

Life back at home was fine, yet you couldn’t help but have a thirst for more. You always knew you wanted to be a farmer, but that wasn’t possible for you to do back home in the city. You felt stuck in your daydreaming for something different, so, you decided to make the short move into the town that you practically grew up in. Now here you are, having a fulfilling and successful farming life. Although, your social life is definitely the part where saidsuccess was running dry. The only people you talk to are Abby, Ellie, and your boss, Joel. A sweet old man that was nice enough to give you work. He said that your grandfather taught him a lot, so he knew you must be just as good as he was. Minus the farm animals, you only ever talk to three people. You couldn’t help this though,you were a very shy kid growing up. Never having as many friends as the other kids , always feeling left out,like an outsider. That was before you found yourself enjoying the connection with animals and crop growing,farming is your peace that you are grateful for.

Having been surrounded in a community that appreciates all the hard work you do, you’ve felt yourself begin to branch out a bit more. That is exactly how you met your best friend, Abigail Anderson. Although you were very attracted and afraid of her simultaneously at first glance, you have grown to love her for her hard exterior and gooey insides. Having her agree to go to the dance was a whole other mission in itself. It took a lot of promises of sleepovers, doing her chores, and lots of making her food for her to agree. And who could blame you? You wanted to see your hot best friend dressed up with a drink or two in her system. Abby got protective and handsy when tipsy and boy did you look forward to tonight.

After a few errands, you anxiously decided to get dressed for tonight. You wanted to look good for your girls, for your friends. With a huff of air, you start the tap in your shower to wash off the grime and muck of the day. The spring sun has left you kisses of a tan on your body. You smile at yourself, loving the way the tan made you look. Your wandering mind made you begin thinking about how the sun brings out the extra freckles on Ellie and Abby. This made your mind wander a bit more… You found yourselfdeep into your psyche, something you did in the depths of the night, alone in your bed. Obscenity carrying your thoughts about both girls, how you wondered just how far down their bodies the speckles of darker skin spread. Fantasies about having the both of them fill your mind as your hand slightly wanders south. A shaky breath escapes your mouth as the gentle feeling of the tip of your fingers trailing down your chest, down your stomach, and stopping just above your core. Just as you were about to dip into your fantasies, you heard a loud knock on the bathroom door;Abby. You forgot that you invited her over to head over to the dance together. You curse your past self for giving her a spare key.

“Darlin, you okay in there? Ya’ know we gotta leave soon, right?” You could basically hear the smirk in Abby’s voice,almost as if she knew what she was interrupting in here. Your eyes shoot wide open at the thought. There's no way that she saw me..right? You shake your head at the stupid thought and finish rinsing your body.

“Mhm! M’ all good Abs!” You answer back in a huff, distracted by your pulsing core. You turn the water cold in hopes of clearing yourself of your dirty thoughts about your best friend next door.

You rush to get ready since you definitely spent way too long in the shower. Abby asked what you were doing in a joking manner. It took everything within you to keep a somewhat decent poker face. You didn’t trust your voice one bit, so you did the next best thing, you flipped her off.

“Watch the attitude, princess!” she shouted from your living room.

You were dressed in your best black chinos and a simple black t-shirt. Your favorite bandana was tied on your head, pulling your hair up and out of your face. You slip on your trusty brown blundstones boots and make your way out to the living room. You almost drool at the current view in front of you. Abby sat there with her legs wide on your galaxy blue couch, Her muscular thigh in her tight chinos chiseled and contoured her legs. Your eyes trailed up to her torso; her strong hands lay on her stomach, fingers slowly massaging her stomach in no specific pattern. Her beautiful blue eyes were trained on the TV in front of her,other hand raked through her loose locks. Fuck, you love her with her hair down. Her cream colored hat sat next to her on the couch. She looked like she was out of a movie scene,the way the setting sunlight glistened and illuminated her body had you struggling to breathe. You suddenly felt anxious about tonight. You weren’t stupid, the women in Jackson had eyes. Unfortunately, you weren’t the only one to notice Abby’s beauty. You wanted her in ways you wouldn’t form in your mind,yet still, you couldn’t make a move. You inhaled once more and made your way to your best friend.

“Sorry I took so long, I got distracted.” You anxiously fiddled with your fingers. Abby looks at you with a hard to read face,you never know what is going on in that brain of hers. She clears her throat after a few beats of taking you in and rises from the couch letting out a low whistle. The blonde walks over to you and fixes the sleeve on your shirt.

“You look perfect, sweetheart.” Her low drawl seeps out her mouth and into your ears. You immediately turn your head away from her eyes, feeling shy in front of her. Abby tsks and gently grabs your chin to look up at her.

“C’mon, none of that. You look beautiful. Now, take the compliment n’ say thank you.” Abby raises her eyebrow. Your breath gets heavy at how close you two are. The 6’2 goddess towering above you as you crane your neck to look into her eyes.

You bite your lip and flush. “M’ sorry, thank you,Abby.”

Abby nods her head in acceptance and leaves a pec on your cheek. She grabs her hat off the couch and leads you towards your front door. She doesn’t even have to ask for you to follow her, she knows that you’ll be there.

The casual dominance that Abby exudes leaves you feeling dizzy. She is a woman who demands respect from anyone and everyone. She didn’t get so far in her field to be thought of as a pushover. Unlike you, Abby always demanded the space she was in. It was the little things that she did that made your heart absolutely flutter;holding the door open for you, walking on the side of the walkway that is closest to the road, having a possessive placement of her hand on the base of your hip, and so much more. It was also the little things that confused you.

Abby was much harder to read than the auburn girl who runs parallel in your mind. You can always tell when Ellie was being flirtatious. Ellie Williams was a ladies girl, her whole entire being is one big ball of flirt. At least with her, you know that she is trying to get you under her. On the other hand, Abby is quite the opposite. Abby is the definition of never kiss and tell,she is too focused on her reputation and goals that she never bats an eye at the women fawning over her. You could only hope that she sees you differently than them.

“What’s gotten you suck in that head of yours?” Abby speaks up from beside you; the two of you on your way to town square. Her hand lay gently in your back pocket, a new thing she has seemingly picked up on.

You shake your head with a smile and look back up to the blonde.

“‘S nothin’ you gotta be worried about, Abs.” You give her a smile. Abby returns a smirk, yet you know she doesn’t believe you.

“Ya’ know, I thought you’d be more excited. Ya’ somehow got me n’ Williams to agree to be in the same place.” She huffs, trying to cheer you up from whatever has gotten you in your head.This seems to do the trick because you are immediately back to your wide smiles and doe eyes.

“Oh my goodness! Almost forgot!” You giggle and nudge Abby. A genuine grin adorns her face as she sees your smile. The lengths she’d go to make you laugh. ‘As long as they’re happy’ is what Abby tells herself.

“Ya mean I could’ve turned around?” She pouts like a kicked puppy. You smack her giant bicep with a frown.

“Hush! Now c’mon! We’re here!” You pull at the hand in your backpocket until she places her big hand in yours. You are practically barrling in the doors, dragging Abby behind you in amusement.

The once dingy church was converted to a beautiful meeting center for the townspeople. Events such as weddings, birthday parties, and community dances now take place. Glowing fairy lights arch their way across the ceiling, illuminating the faces of individuals from different corners of town. Abby slows you down with a gentle tug as she prevents you from colliding with a townsperson,you don’t even notice with your head in the clouds.

“C’mon darl’, lets go grab a drink.”

Abby firmly presses her hand on the small of your back as she escorts the both of you to the bar. Suddenly, a low whistle is heard from beside Abby as the two of you wait for the bartender to serve you. Lo and behold, Ellie Williams appears into your line of vision. A gracious smile appears on her face as she sees how excited you are. Ellie makes deep eye contact with Abby, silently exchanging words with each other before turning her attention back to you.

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

Ellie’s eyes trail from your tight-dress pant clad legs up to your perfect smile. Abby notices and grips your hip a bit harder. Ellie rolls her eyes at the blonde’s protectiveness, something she knows all too well.

“Howdy, Anderson.” Ellie tilts her hat in greeting. Her eyes linger on the blonde, taking in her stature. Unlike you and the other girls, Abby’s eye contact remains. Her face level, hard to decipher. You can’t tell if you are gonna need to break up a fight, but either way you have decided you need a drink. Abby nods back at Ellie with an unreadable smirk and Ellie…blushes? You can’t tell if your eyes are playing tricks on you, but you don’t get to read into it much when the bartender finally comes to take your order.

You grab a beer as Ellie and Abby grab a whiskey neat. You giggled when they both cut each other off when telling the bartender what they wanted. You have always said that if the two of them got off their high horses, they’d be the best of friends.

Small talk is traded between the two as you try and delve in conversations with the both of them. Abby and Ellie, too proud to do much more with each other, lead them to fight for your attention. Everytime one had your attention, the other found a way to have their body on yours. The combination of the alcohol and the feeling of them all over you made it hard for you to think straight.

Unbeknownst to you, Ellie and Abby could see the squeezing of your thighs and felt that flush of your warm body. They silently decided to join forces, both enjoying how needy you were getting.

You were practically sitting in Abby's lap as Ellie was whispering in your ear about something stupid. Their excuse was that you needed to be close due to the loud noises coming from the dance and the band. Abby's hand trailed up your thigh, slightly getting closer to your core as time went on. Your breath was ragged and your face was flushed. All of your thoughts were jumbled, yet two things remained clear, your need for Ellie and Abby.

A familiar song starts to play in the background as Abby and Ellie exchange some words between each other. You snap out of your haze and immediately wrangle out of Abby’s grasp.

Abby tightens her hand on yours and pulls you back to face her. Both Abby and Ellie are confused at your sudden burst.

“What’er ya doin’?” Ellie draws with a lazy smile.

“Needa-hiccup-dance!” You sway drunkenly as the blonde and the auburn haired girls look back at you in amusement.

When did you get this drunk? Everything felt like a haze when you were around them. All your thoughts turned into mush.

Abby stands so that her hands on your hips; she’s trying to stop you from drunkenly stumbling out of her line of vision.

“Hmph, let go Abs! -hiccup- can do it m’self! Wanna dance!” You pout like a baby. Why couldn’t she understand you wanted to dance?

Abby chuckles at you and shakes her head.

“Darlin’ yer drunker than my aunt Kathryn on a friday night. Ya’ know ya’ lightweight.” Abby pushes you closer to her so that you’re resting your head on her chest.

You look at Ellie for support, yet she’s just smiling at the two of you. She stands up and sandwiches you between Abby and her. You’re surrounded by pure muscle. The two similar but very distinct smells of their respective bodies fill your senses.

“Don’t look at me, princess! Anderson’s got a point. Ya’ know how Kathryn gets n’ yer gettin’ there.” Ellie cackles at the memory of Abby’s aunt. All you do is pout in response.

Abby perks up at the familiar sound of Ellie’s laugh. She would never admit it outloud, but she missed it. You let out a huff and loosen yourself from Abby’s hold.

“Gonna dance right here then!” You huff.

God, you hope you don’t remember this in the morning. You turn yourself around so that your back is facing Abby’s front. Feeling the music, your drunken self starts sensually moving your hips on your best friend. You can feel Abby’s hands on your hips grow tighter as if she was warning you not to continue. You feel her breath hitch on your upper back as you grind onto her lap. Your eyes are locked in on Ellie as she takes in the sight of you. Seeing you rub your body on Abby as her strong hands grope your torso makes her mind flurry with excitement.

Ellie leans forward and places her hands below Abby’s, resting dangerously close to your ass.

“What are ya up to, sweetheart?” Ellie whispers in your ear. You bite your lip and place your hands onto Ellie’s.

“Dancin’ with my favorite girls. S’ that a crime?” You bat your eyes. Ellie looks up from you to lock eyes with Abby.

“Think you can share, Anderson?”

“I mean we are on our best behavior, right?”

411 notes · View notes

chiriwritesstuff · 5 months

Text

Meet Me at the Farmers Market! - 7. A Clean Slate

A Farmers Market! Joel AU x Confident! Plus Sized! F! Reader

Series Masterlist

Series Summary: What does a Contractor do in his spare time? Sell his wood carvings at the Saturday Farmers Market, of course! A Grumpy x Sunshine Joel Miller series collective of one-shots.

Chapter Rating: T

Word Count: 1380

Warnings: A whole lot of swearing from our favorite teen, talks of infidelity (not by Joel), reader has PCOS and has a hard time conceiving, Joel has some thoughts about Tommy, mentions of Sunflower having a miscarriage, Sunflower's backstory is mentioned briefly, Ellie's shitty puns makes its big debut

Summary: Ellie and Joel spend some time together at the market. Joel takes a chance. This story takes place one month after the events of pt.6.

A/N: I had originally intended to bring up Joel's knowledge of Tommy's feelings towards Sunflower in another way, but thought that it fit better with this story, especially now that we have Ellie to banter with. I missed these two, and love their eventual relationship. It is building into something bigger, and I am excited about the Christmas special that I've been planning since starting this series.

There is a slight bit of angst as Ellie talks to Joel about Sunflower's past, so if the loss of a child or mentions of miscarriage is triggering to you, please skip this chapter. Thank you for reading!

Reblog Banner by @saradika-graphics

"Why do you carve critters?"

Ellie swiped an otter from the table and settled into the foldable beach chair she'd taken from Sunflower's van. She admired the small carving, tapping its head with her finger before placing it back on the table. "It's cute, but it doesn't seem like something you would make." she teased.

"What do you think I would make?"

She blinks, deep in thought. "Fuck, I don't know. Bowls or cutting boards or some boring shit."

Joel sighed, turning his head back to face her. "It was Sarah's idea; she wanted to find ways to spend more time together. She was the one who encouraged me to sell these at the market." He smiles fondly at the wooden otter Ellie had picked up. "She was really excited about them."

"Does Sarah know how to carve critters too?"

A small smile formed on the corner of Joel's mouth. "She sure does; hell, the otter is one of hers."

"That's so fucking cool," Ellie exclaims, reaching for her backpack perched on the side of her chair. She rummages through its contents, extracting a set of wired earphones and connecting them to her phone. A well-worn copy of No Pun Intended Volume Too rests on her lap. "Hey, Joel? Mind if I hit you with a serious question?"

Joel frowns. "Sure."

Sporting her most earnest expression, Ellie leans in, resting her elbows on her knees. "What did the mermaid wear to math class?"

Joel winces, his head shaking in bewilderment. "Ellie-"

"An Algae bra!" she exclaims, her body wrought with her giggling. "Get it? an ALGAE bra?"

Joel shakes his head. "No. Oh please no."

"Oh come on!" Ellie whacks him with the book, "It was funny!"

"Feel free to share these puns with Tommy, I'm sure he'll love it!"

She scoffs, placing her earphones on as she leans on the beach chair. "Tommy is actually quite fond of my shitty puns, you know."

"I'm sure he is," Joel mutters to himself. He gazes into the distance, anticipating the presence of his brother, knowing exactly where he would be. Spotting the two of you laughing, Joel notices Tommy looking at you with a hint of longing, causing him to shudder and turn away. He can't shake the discomfort of knowing that Tommy has always had a soft spot for you, even though things with his new girlfriend Maria are going well.

Ellie looks at the two of you, a smirk forming on her face. "it's weird, right?"

Joel looks away, busying himself with rearranging his critters, smiling at the passerbyers. "Whats weird?"

"The fact that your brother is madly in love with Sunflower. Don't tell me you can't see it," she gives him a knowing look, her eyes narrowing as she looks back at the two of you. "He's quite the smooth talker."

"That he is."

"...but you have nothing to worry about, you know. She's absolutely crazy about you, old man." You observe them from your stall, exchanging a wink with Joel as you silently mouth "I love you." Joel reciprocates with a wink of his own.

Ellie scoffs, rolling her eyes. "Yuck, you guys are gross."

It had been a few weeks since Anna's passing, and Ellie had made the move to Austin, settling into the guest room adjacent to Sarah's. "Make yourself at home," Joel had told her, unsure how to navigate the newness of having another kid in his space since Sarah moved into her own apartment closer to campus. Even if her presence was sudden, he had to admit that the inclusion of Ellie in both his and Sunflower's lives was interesting, to say the least. She was rough around the edges and curious, always wanting to tag along with Sunflower at the nursery and randomly popping into Joel's workshop from time to time. Joel was afraid to admit that he liked having her around, even if she had a penchant for shitty puns and riling him up about his age, not wasting a second to comment on his bad knees and calling him an old man. She was a little shit, but she was growing on him.

It was undeniably daunting, having another kid around, pestering him just as much as Sarah did when she was Ellie's age, Joel reflects. He believed his life was complete, especially with you coming into his world. He never imagined a second chance at happiness beyond Tommy and Sarah, especially at his age. Yet, your presence and radiance were something he yearned for so deeply it was almost painful. Sometimes he contemplates if Ellie is also a part of his second lease on life, something he was destined to have, despite the sorrow that brought the three of you together.

"You know, I'm happy she has you," Ellie muses. "... even if it hurt that she left Seattle, I understand why she had to, no matter how much it pissed me off."

"She had her reasons," Joel agrees, sitting on his stool. "I'm sure it was enough to want a clean slate."

"Well, if being cheated on and having a miscarriage because of it wasn't bad enough..."

Joel stalls, his face in shock. "Wait, Ellie-"

Ellie's eyes widen, her hand covering her mouth, realizing she had indeed put her foot in her mouth. "Shit Joel- I thought you knew."

"Well, no. She didn't say anything."

"Shit," Ellie whispers. Letting out a sigh, she turns to Joel with a serious expression. "Well, yeah, it happened. She was married to him for a long time. High school sweethearts. She... had a hard time getting pregnant," she chews on her lip, "...was told that the probability of getting pregnant was next to impossible, given her condition-"

"Her condition?"

"She has PCOS. Doctors blame her weight, which is FUCKED, but Sunflower is just built like that, you know? She's really healthy! This baby was her rainbow, right? She did all the right things, ate rabbit food and worked on her mental health and stuff... and then she found out that fucker was banging her sister..."

"Ellie-"

"She would've been a good mom. A great one! She's always been there for me, no matter how much I was a shitty kid with an even shittier attitude," Ellie stands beside Joel, her gaze fixed on you in the distance. "... I think that's why Mom trusted her with me, even if I have an aunt... when she knew..." Ellie looks down at her feet, her voice laced with sadness. "...maybe she thought I could fill that void in her, you know? She's a good one, you have no idea, Joel."

"I know," Joel admits, sighing deeply. "Hell if I even deserve her-"

"You don't," Ellie smirks. "No one does. But she loves you, and I know you're such a fucking simp for her..."

"What the hell is a simp?!"

"Oh, don't be such an old man! Google exsists!"

"Hey!" Joel exclaims. "You know, you can tone it down with your sarcasm and language, girlie."

She laughs, sharing a smile with Joel as she nods towards someone in the distance. "Thank you, Joel. You know, for taking me in and letting me crash at your place. You didn't have to, and I know it's probably not easy, having someone you barely know in your space and another mouth to feed-"

"Ellie, stop." Joel cuts her off. "It was the right thing to do. Besides-" he picks up a block of wood and a chisel, handing it to Ellie. "... now I have someone to help me carve these fucking critters, now that Sarah isnt home as often-"

Ellie jumps off her seat in excitement. "Fuck, really Joel? you're gonna teach me how to carve?"

Joel smiles fondly as she takes the wood and chisel out of his hands. "Sure, why not? Do you have anything else to do?"

"Fuck no! Teach me how to carve, old man! I want to carve a turtle!"

As Joel and Ellie begin to carve, you laugh to yourself as you observe them in the distance, Tommy standing beside you. "Well, if you look at that. She fits right in, no?" he asks, tsking as he shakes his head.

A small smile forms on your face.

"Yes, yes she does."

88 notes · View notes