#joel miller x gender neutral reader

[prentissluvr]

too cold — joel (and tommy) miller

gn!reader , (future)fatherfigure!joel (and tommy tbh) , takes place a year or two after joel and ellie settle in jackson , reader is in their mid/late teens , hurt/comfort, angst , cw : brief mentions of loss of friends and family, hypothermia , wc : 3.8K , special thanks to @piggyjeans for reading this for me and motivating me to wrap up this part and get it out to you guys !! <333

at this point, you’re beginning to wonder why you even try. you wonder if there’s a point when the scraps of any family you had left, found or biological, are long gone and you’re on the brink of freezing to death yourself. you managed a fire last night, but you’re shivering beyond control even in the daylight with your sore lack of a real coat. wherever you are, it’s cold as hell and winter is setting in far faster than you could ever combat. essentially, you’re screwed. it seems like it might snow more, there’s not a building in sight, and you’re running out of bullets and food. the cold bites at your exposed nose and takes permanent root in your bones.

night falls far too quickly, bringing the thick snow that you feared almost as much as infected or people; those you could fight, but the snow? against that you have no defense but a sputtering fire, measly shelter, and a slowly thinning sleeping bag. curled into yourself as much as you can, it takes a concerningly small amount of time for you to fall asleep.

by the time you finally come back into consciousness, the struggle to open your eyes scares you even in the muddled state of your mind. the sun is far higher than ideal; already you’ve lost precious traveling time now that your only hope is to find abandoned buildings to scavenge for supplies. and yet, the last thing you want to do is get out of your sleeping bag. it’s kept you as warm as you could be, and even now in the leftover warmth sleep, you’re all too aware of the snow that blew into the small overhand of rocks you slept underneath and the way it’s freezing temperatures will soak into your feet until it reaches every nerve of your body when you continue your trek through the forest.

but, despite that heavy question of what’s the point, there’s no way you’re going to let yourself give up and waste away in the cold without trying to save someone, even if that someone is yourself. so with every struggle, you pull your hands out from their haven in the swaths of fabric, fumbling slightly to zip open the bag and pull yourself out. you’re eternally grateful that you have gloves, but within the few minutes of packing up, the cold has already started to settle in your hands, feet, and face. begrudgingly, you swing your pack onto your shoulder and shove your hands into your pockets, looking for the most direct path to higher ground to scope out any buildings.

as you start out, it seems as though travel may not be the worst. but the thick snow from last night’s flurries and the still slowly falling flakes are quick to tire your legs from the effort, and the way that your jacket lets in too much of the numbing wind hinders your pace. you find yourself exhausted, taking moments to rest against trees that stretch into minutes, maybe longer as your mind becomes foggy and consistent shivering sets in throughout your whole body. 

you stumble a bit and clumsily grab hold of the nearest tree. what the hell am i doing? you wonder. you let your whole side press against the rough surface of the tree, squeezing your eyes shut, then opening them in attempts to clear your head. but that doesn’t seem to help when you start to wonder if you’re hallucinating. just meters away your eyes land on a tall brown horse, an animal you don’t think you’ve seen outside of pictures. you stare at it in wonder for a moment, but a feeling of panic sets in when you process the fact that there’s a man sitting on the horse, a large rifle strapped across his back.

with your shaky hands you fumble around to pull out your gun, but it does you no good when the rifle is pointed at you in seconds. 

despite the threat, the man’s voice isn’t harsh when he calls out to you. “’s alright. ’m not here to hurt you, alright? just drop your weapon.” without much resistance, you do as he says, seeing no other choice and feeling not an ounce of energy to fight back. within moments, he’s off the horse, one hand on its reins and the other put up in the air in a careful truce as he slowly moves closer to you. when he’s near enough that the snow doesn’t obstruct his view of your face, he can see the way that you’re shivering and the unfocused look in your eyes and can immediately notice that something’s not quite right.

“i need you to tell me if you’re infected. don’t lie now, alright? i’ll shoot you if i find out you do.” at this, his voice is more stern, stirring up a bit more fear in you. but you’re able to shake your head clearly.

“no. no, ’m not infected. haven’t run into any for days,” you speak aloud for the first time since you woke up this morning, and you don’t notice the way that your speech is slurred, but he does.

“alright, then. kid, i’m gonna get you somewhere warm, okay?” in the back of your head, you’re terrified to let him closer, to let some stranger lead you somewhere, but the promise of warmth is something you desperately need. even so, you flinch away when he’s finally right next to you and reaches out. “i promise ’m not gonna hurt ya. i’ve got somewhere safe and warm for you, you’re gonna freeze to death if you don't get some help now.” he’s completely right, you realize, so you just nod. “there ya go. do’y have a coat we can get on you?” he frowns when you shake your head, but doesn’t hesitate to unzip his own padded coat. gently, he pulls your pack off your back and sets it down. you don’t even realize what he’s doing until he shrugs his own coat over your shoulders and pulls it tight over your front. the leftover warmth from his own body is heavenly, but in the action, you lose your support against the tree and unconsciously lean into his firm frame. you don’t notice, but he stiffens at this, and his frown grows deeper when he feels how cold you are to the touch.

with strong hands, he pulls you away from him slightly. wordlessly, he guides your shivering arms into the sleeves of his coat, silently grateful for the warm jacket he still has on.

“we’ve gotta get on the horse, now.” 

you just nod, letting him guide you to the tall animal. but you stop short at its side, completely unsure of how you’ll get up.

“first you put your right foot in the stirrup, right here.” you don’t have to say anything for him to begin telling you what you need to. “put your hand on the saddle here to help you up. i’m gonna hold you steady, okay?” you nod, letting him place his firm hands on your waist as you put the last of your strength into lifting one foot into the stirrup. “now you’ve gotta push up with that foot to swing your other leg over the horse.” it takes all of your concentration to understand what he says, and strength that you don’t have to actually do it. it’s messy, but thanks to his help and some miracle, you find yourself on top of the horse and putting all of your effort into staying upright.

“there ya go. i’m gonna get on in front of you, don’t you fall off now.” he quickly fastens your pack onto the horse, letting out a small grunt as he pulls himself up onto the animal. his body warmth right in front of you is precious and you don’t have it in you to feel awkward in the way he does as he pulls your arms around his torso to keep you steady. “just hold on and stay awake, alright? shouldn’t be too long til we get you warm.” once again, you just nod, knowing he can feel it with the side of your face pressed against his back.

as the horse starts forward at a decent pace, his instructions of holding on prove to be harder than ideal with your weakened grip. you don’t know how much time passes until the horse’s movement stops and the man’s voice, along with another, meets your ears.

you startle when the unfamiliar voice calls out. “joel! what took you so lon– what happened?”

“sorry, tommy.” you can feel the rumble of his voice while pressed against him, and turn your head to face the source of the other voice. “found ‘em leaning against a tree just a bit off the path. think they’ve got hypothermia.”

there’s another man on a horse, probably younger, but you can’t tell much else in the snow and the state of your mind. either way, you can’t help but read him as a danger. the man in front of you, joel, you assume, must have picked up on your fear behind him

“’s alright. that’s my brother, tommy. he’s here to help too, okay?” 

another nod from you, and a “damn” from tommy.

“let’s get going, then. we’ll stay in the lookout for tonight then get them back to jackson first thing in the morning. it’ll be dark soon.”

joel agrees, and with that, you set off. every so often, his voice brings you out of your daze long enough for you to nod your head against his back when he checks if you’re still awake. your sense of time is long gone; all you know when you arrive at the mentioned lookout is a vague sense of relief. 

“kid?” his voice rings out and you realize the motion of the horse has finally come to a stop. you do your best to sit up, hating the biting air that immediately hits your front now that it’s not kept warm by joel’s back. your hands stay resting absentmindedly on his shoulders in order to keep you from slipping off of the horse. “tommy’s gonna help you off, okay?” you let out a small hum of acknowledgement as tommy dismounts his horse and comes to stand beside you.

“here we go,” he gives you a small, encouraging smile as he lifts his arms up for you. “put your hands on my shoulders, and i’ll get you down safe ’n sound, alright?” it’s a bit of an awkward reach, and you begin to slip down before you have a proper grasp, but his hands are quick to secure themselves under your armpits, preventing you from falling and instead pulling you into his chest. your knees buckle the moment they hit the ground; tommy’s strong grip keeps you upright. “there you are, ’s alright. god, you’re shivering like a leaf in the wind. we’ll get you nice and warm now.” 

there’s a bit of a struggle getting inside, your legs practically refusing to hold your weight. an immense wave of relief washes through you when you collapse onto the couch they bring you to and you let your eyes shut in exhaustion.

“now don’t you fall asleep on us quite yet,” joel warns. “we gotta get you warm first. tommy, get some hot water going.” you force your eyes back open to see him crouching in front of you. “listen, uh. some of your clothes are a little wet from the snow, and we can’t have that.” he pauses at that, studying your face to catch any sort of reaction.

“okay,” you whisper, somehow coherent enough to still understand what he’s saying and know that he’s right.

“okay,” he repeats. “can i take these jackets off?” you nod. his grip is gentle when he pulls you up from your slouched position, allowing you to lean into him when he slips off the coat he gave you, then your own slightly damp jacket. you begin to shiver even harder, your thinning cotton shirt doing nothing to keep any cold at bay. “alright, alright,” he mumbles, half to himself as he pulls his thicker, dry coat back around you. then comes a blanket, taken from the couch and wrapped securely around your shoulders. he shifts you to rest against the back of the sofa.

that’s when he pauses, at a bit of a loss of what to do because your jeans, despite your thick boots, are soaked from the snow almost up to your knees. but there’s no way in hell he’d feel comfortable taking off your pants, much less how you’d feel. 

“i’m gonna have to cut your pants,” he concludes. “promise we’ll get you new ones in town, but you’ll never get warm like this.”

“’s okay,” you mumble. so he rummages in his pack until he finds a pair of scissors, doing his best to avoid touching your bare skin with his hands or cut you with the cold metal. it’s tricky business; the jeans stick fairly close to your skin, but he manages not to even nick you with the sharp edges. the moment you’re free from any damp clothing, he wraps another blanket securely around your legs so it won’t fall off. 

moments later, tommy reappears in your line of sight with exactly what joel asked for. he leans down, holding it out to you. with shaky hands, you grasp the cup, sighing in immediate relief at the warmth that spreads right into your fingers through your gloves.

“careful, now,” tommy advises. “it’s real hot, don’t burn your tongue.” you do your best to follow his instruction, weakly blowing at the hot water when you bring it close to your mouth. resisting the urge to down the whole thing, you grip it tighter and bring it to your chest, hoping to let some of the warmth permeate through other parts of your body other than your hands. it feels like a little piece of heaven when you feel the steam rising up to warm your chin, your lips, and the tip of your nose and the heat from the cup itself travel through your thin shirt and to the skin above your collarbone.

when you finally begin to sip on the warm water, it’s almost glorious; you can feel its warmth spread through your body. so once you discover it’s no longer too hot, you take long gulps and heave heavy sighs of relief. your trembling doesn’t disappear, but with the third cup, it certainly subsides.

this, and the far more relaxed expression on your face finally convinces joel that it’s safe to let you fall asleep—you’re halfway there anyways. tommy takes the empty cup from your hands before it can slip from your hold, and joel unravels your sleeping bag. at that point, you can no longer process the softly spoken words being exchanged by the brothers, but you’re vaguely aware of tommy’s arms tucking themselves under your shoulders and knees and pulling you off of the couch. then you’re being maneuvered into the sleeping bag that now lays across the surface of the couch, tommy setting you down while joel ensures that you stay properly wrapped up in the blankets. sleep claims you so quickly that you don’t hear the agreement between the two men to take turns keeping watch over you to periodically check your temperature and breathing.

joel wakes you in the morning, his gruff voice quickly recounting the events of the previous day when your jumbled state of mind after waking from such a deep sleep launches you into a panicked confusion. his explanation and comforting hands on your shoulders calm you in moments as the memories return, however vague they are due to the haze of your sickness.

“thank you,” you whisper as he helps you to sit up, his hands still gentle and supportive on your shoulders.

“course. like i said, we’ve got somewhere safe for you if you need. and at the very least, we’ve gotta get you some new pants and make sure you don’t get sick. were you travelin’ all alone?”

“not at first,” you explain, knowing he’s probably wondering about finding someone so young alone. “but now… yeah.” he sighs as if that’s the answer he expected.

“’m sorry,” he frowns. you just give a tight-lipped smile in response. “alright. we should get moving so we can get you to the town doctor. tommy’s gettin’ the horses ready.”

your eyebrows raise at his words. “town doctor?” you question. that puts a small smile on his lips that you don’t quite understand.

“yep. it’s a good place to be,” is all he offers in explanation.

“okay.” you begin untangling yourself from the blankets and sleeping bag that did the job of keeping you warm throughout the night. still covered by his coat, your upper half stays comfortable, but the feeling of your exposed calves hitting the cold air is unwelcome, not to mention the slightly embarrassing sight of the jagged edges of your jeans at such an awkward spot. 

“sorry ‘bout that,” he comments, “but we’ll keep your legs wrapped up with blankets for now and get you new jeans in town.” once you nod, he grabs a hold of one of the blankets he laid on top of you after you feel asleep, a rather small piece of fabric, but the right size to help you out. he wraps it around your left leg, using ropes from his supplies to gently secure the fabric, then repeating his actions for your other leg.

as he does so, he keeps his gaze focused on his task, but his gravelly voice meets your ears. “realized we never asked your name,” he phrases it like a statement, but the obvious question is there.

to be honest, you hadn’t even realized either, first, mind clouded by the hypothermia, and up until now too caught up in the oddness of your situation. one moment you’re all on your own and on the brink of death, the next you’re saved and seemingly on the way to what sounds like some sort of miraculous safe haven even from the vague glimpses of information you hear.

you state your name, hoping with all you can muster up that this isn’t some kind of cruel trick, and that the kindness the two men have shown you is as genuine as it’s proved to be thus far.

“well then,” he repeats your name back to you as he secures the last knot, still not looking up at you, “let’s get you home.”

those words nearly knock the air from your lungs. he throws them out like they don’t mean much, but in the most confusing way, because you’re sure he did it on purpose. you’re sure he does know that they mean a whole lot more than a casual tone and avoided eye-contact, but you suppose you can’t blame him. it’s often easier to pretend they don’t mean anything, certainly much more with people you don’t really know at all, people like you. and yet, you can’t help but think he said it to reassure you. to tell you that this place he’s talking about is one where you can find that thing everyone in this world has lost. as if it’s somewhere you already belong without having set foot in it yet. and you can’t tell the difference between hope and fear in that moment, so you shove it all away.

“sure.” you stand just after he does, grabbing your sleeping bag and beginning to roll it to the best of your ability while still weak. but he stops you, quickly taking over the task of clearing and packing up the last few things in the lookout after handing you a cup of warm water, not too hot. you finish it quickly, still more than grateful for any warmth that can be provided.

joel motions towards the door once he’s finished, and on still slightly wobbly legs, you walk up to him, stopping before he can lead you out.

“thank you, joel,” your voice is quiet, but sure when you say it.

“of course,” he assures, genuine in the affirmation.

“and tommy. tommy, too, of course,” you stutter, suddenly feeling awkward.

“sure thing.” he clears his throat, one his occupied hands almost moving up to rub the back of his neck. at that he turns, and you follow him out, back into the cold.

the shivery weather is not welcome by you, but in a properly warm coat and definitively out of the worst of your condition, it’s far more bearable. you feel bad for taking over joel’s coat, but he seems just fine in his jacket that’s clearly far warmer than your old, lousy excuse of a winter garment.

tommy and the horses are waiting there, just as joel said, and he smiles upon seeing you.

“good to see you up and alive, kid,” he grins with a gentle pat to your shoulder.

you answer his playfully reassuring attitude with a bashful smile of your own. “yeah, the alive part is definitely a plus,” you say in attempts of matching his tone. the way his grin grows tells you the joke landed, putting you at even more ease than before. unfortunately, it doesn’t make the way you formally introduce yourself to him any less awkward, but he seems glad to know your name. by your side, joel tightens one last strap on the horse before placing a careful hand on your shoulder.

“i think we’re good to go now. it’ll only be a few hours of riding,” he informs.

“sure,” you nod. pausing for a moment, you cast eyes down before speaking, albeit a bit timidly. “could you.. could you help me up again?”

you completely miss the soft look on his face at your request. “course i can, kiddo. i’ll get up first and help you from there, okay?” at your affirmative, he easily mounts the horse before holding a hand out to you. “just put your foot here, grab my hand, and i’ll do all the work, alright?” he moves his leg away from the stirrup so that you can use it yourself, his grip on your hand steady the moment you place it in his palm. gratefully, you follow his instructions, doing your best to use your own strength in tandem with joel to ease the effort he has to put forth to help you up. as you swing your leg over the horse, he guides your hand to hold onto his shoulder for you to grip far easier than his hand and succeeds in getting you into the saddle behind him. with that, you’re off, traveling somewhere that you somehow dare to hope is the sort of paradise joel and tommy have described.

,

part two here !!

#joel miller #joel miller x platonic!reader #platonic joel miller #tommy miller #father figure joel #joel miller tlou #tlou show #joel miller x gender neutral reader #joel miller x reader #tommy miller x reader #joel miller comfort #joel miller fluff #joel miller imagine #joel miller angst #joel miller x gn!reader #joel miller hbo #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fluff #tlou joel #joel miller father figure #the last of us #tommy miller father figure #tommy tlou #tommy miller tlou

[morallyinept]

Hypothermia - A Joel Miller GIFLET

Uh, Jett, what the heck is a GIFLET??

Just a short, 500 words or less drabble, based on inspiration I got from a GIF. Simples.

Pairing: Joel Miller x GN!Reader (No name or physical description of reader. It's you, bub.)

Word Count: 479

Scoville Smut Rating: None, it's all fluff. You're safe.

Check out my Scoville Smut Ratings here

GIFLET MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

Enjoy! 🖤

This GIFLET was inspired by the below GIF by @joeldidnothingwrong 👇🏻

Joel opens his eyes.

"Stop fidgetin' n' go to sleep," he mumbles around his teeth.

His back is facing you, swathed in the brown jacket pulled tight over his shoulders.

The two of you are camped out on the cold, hard ground. Hidden in the tree line, but still open to the elements.

It's a cold night out in the open like this, and the layers you're wearing aren't really helping to trap the heat. Neither is the singular sleeping bag that he insisted you take. It's full of holes; the stuffing is leaking out at one end in a wormy cloud, and it offers little warmth. 

You shuffle again and knock into his lower back.

"Christ, what's wrong with ya?" He gruffs glancing at you over his broad shoulder. He immediately softens as he sees you visibly shivering. 

"It's so c-cold," you chatter, rubbing your hands for warmth. 

"I know. Don't think 'bout it." He sighs, and rolls over again. He's hugging his own hands, tucked right under his armpits to keep his fingers from icing over and falling off.

He sighs out, closing his eyes; his breath is a wiry, gossamer mist escaping his nostrils. 

"I read something once, about s-sharing body heat to s-stay warm." You mutter, pressing your forehead against him, just below his shoulder blade. He can feel your subtle rumbles and shakes against him. 

"You did, hmm?" Joel's eyes open again. "What did it say?"

You rattle again, blowing into your hands. "That you can stave off hypothermia s-simply by sharing body h-heat." 

Joel thinks on it for a moment as you jolt into him again. 

"Alright," he grunts, rolling over onto his back and holding out his arm.

You immediately wiggle into it as he holds you against his body. He pulls the sleeping bag up over your ears. 

"Better?" Joel asks you a few minutes later, his nose pressing into your hairline; the tip of it warmed slightly by your crown. He breathes in deeply, closing his eyes once more and humming out gently.

"The article mentioned that for it to be effective, both parties should be naked..."

You hear Joel snort amongst the ebb of his heartbeat now in your ear as you settle into a comfy position on his chest. Your shivering soon dissipates. 

"Forget it." He grunts and you smirk.

But he pulls you tighter around him still; you slip your hand inside his jacket pocket to keep your fingers warm.

After a few moments, his own thick, worn digits, cold from the bite of the air, find their way inside too, and rest on top of yours.

You feel Joel stroke gently at your knuckle skin. 

"Completely naked?" He questions a minute or so later.

"Go to sleep, Joel." You smile, the tempo of his heartbeat increasing as you close your eyes, finally warmed enough to drift off by his heat.

#joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller tlou #joel miller x reader #joel miller x gn!reader #joel miller x gn reader #joel miller x gender neutral reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #joel miller fluff #joel miller the last of us #joel the last of us #the last of us fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller drabble #joel miller giflet #jett's writing #jett's pedro boys

[sweetercalypso]

I want to watch dbf!Joel make himself cum tbh, I know it’s hot 😵‍💫🥵

18+, minors dni — male masturbation, pet names, gn reader

Joel fists the length of his cock languidly, pausing briefly to dip the salty head between your parted lips.

“Y’think my cock’s pretty, baby?”

The sight of his digits running over the length of his cock is hypnotizing — rough, calloused fingers against warm skin, collecting drops of precum as they spill from his tip.

“mmhm,” you answer, shuffling closer on the bed until your head rests on his thigh. “I wanna watch.”

His free hand comes to rest gently on the back of your neck, holding you in place while he works over his cock. “Y’gonna watch me fuck my fist? Huh? Gonna make you ride my cock after this.”

The vein on the underside of Joel’s cock throbs from the attention of his heavy palm. His thumb teases the cleft under his head until he grunts from sensitivity and pulls back to stave off his end.

Your eyes match the steady rhythm of his hand, mesmerized by the way he follows the curve of his length and the way he occasionally grips the base. When he picks up speed and spits out a muttered fuck, it takes all your strength to keep your twitching fingers from joining in the effort to make him come.

“Whose cock is this?” He asks between breathy grunts.

You glance up at his face, barely able to tear your gaze away from the sight of his flushed cock twitching in his grip.

“Yours.”

His head tilts back and his jaw clenches, showing off the tense muscles in his neck as he rasps out a reply.

“No baby, it’s yours. Yours to fuck and love on all you want. S’all for you, sweetheart.”

Fighting the warmth rising to your cheeks, you hum fondly and press your face into the dip of his side, littering his warm skin with distracted kisses while you wait eagerly for Joel to finish.

“F-fuck.” His hips jump when he comes, spitting out profanities until his mind blanks from pleasure. Spurts of opaque cum splash over his fingers and land on his knuckles, staining them with glossy rivulets of his spend.

When Joel catches his breath, he sits forward with a groan, catching your eye when you raise your head from his lap.

“Give me five minutes,” he says, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Then I’m gonna fuck you like I promised.”

#lovely anons #calypso writes #the last of us #Joel Miller #joel miller x reader #Joel miller x gender neutral reader #joel x reader #tlou joel #the last of us x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller drabble

[pedros-husband]

You have a big ass

pedro pascal characters x male/gn! reader

characters included: Javier Pena, Joel miller, Javi Gutierrez, Marcus Moreno, Ezra, Din Djarin, Frankie Morales, agent whiskey, Silva, Oberyn Martell

javier pena: he loves a juicy ass so his eyes are constantly on yours, especially if you wear any of his 70's style jeans. he has no shame so wether your in the office, in town, or at home he will slap your ass or squeeze it. he especially likes it if your bent over someones desk trying to speak to them, he loves picturing how you'd look bent over his desk whilst he fucks you.

Joel miller: hes not into PDA so he'll only ever stare at your ass if your in public, but he'll still do it shamelessly. sometimes he'll let you walk ahead with someone else on patrol or by yourself simply so he can stare at your ass and they way your jeans cling to it, or the way yoour hips move at each step, making your ass jut out.

when yoru at home though, hes completely different. he has absolutely no self restraint when your in the comfort of your house and no ones prying eyes are on you. he'll smack, slap, kneed your ass, at every chance he gets, in the morning or evening thoguh he loves smacking your ass in the morning whilst you make coffee, making you stand up straight and let out a surprised snort, snapping you awake.

Javi Gutierrez: he’s a sucker for you in anyway possible and he loves praising you in any shape or form so he loves commenting on how much he loves your body, especially your ass. When your cuddling his hands will subconsciously move to rest on your ass, sexually and non sexually. If he’s feeling more frisky he’ll squeeze and/or slap your ass. He’s also a sucker for making you feel good and he loves eating you out. (I totally see him as a power bottom)

Marcus Moreno: he’s super cheesy and I can totally see him as that chest single dad so he’ll mostly make cheeky comments and jokes about your ass (In a cute way though) he totally loves eating you out and holding your ass cheeks as he does so, because like javi he’s all for making you feel good and giving you the pleasure, because he gets pleasure from yours.

Ezra: he is a man of words and poems so he’ll go on long tangents about how much he just loves your ass or he’ll talk in great detail about what he wants to do to your ass/ with it. He also likes smacking your ass when you don’t expect it.

Din djarin: he’s not very touchy especially because he’s spent most of his life alone, but he’ll admire the way your armour/clothes cling to your ass. He loves watching you work or train in silence, he is so grateful of his helmet so you can’t tell that his gaze is almost permanently on your ass. When you do get more intimate or touchy he’ll mumble about how sexy your ass is and if he’s feeling particularly bold he’ll grab it and pick you up, punning you against the wall.

Frankie morales: he also is shameless in public so he’ll smack/slap your ass as a greeting or in passing. He smirks when you gasp and smack his arm, smiling at your angry blushing face. In bed/cuddling he’ll

Agent whiskey: he’s got no shame as well, in public, at work, or at home. He loves if you wear tight fitting jeans and if you do he looses all self restraint. If it’s in the office he’ll fully pick you up by your ass and onto his desk, he can and will take you at work, tequila and ginger are used to it by now and have earplugs for when you do it. He’s slap your ass as he walks by you as reflex, sometimes he doesn’t even realise he’s doing it.

Silva: he’s so sweet and soft for you, but he worships you and your body so he’ll constantly mumble under his breath to you about how much he loves your ass, how it drives him wild. When cuddling on the bed/couch he’ll pull you into his chest by your ass cheeks and knees them softly.

Oberyn martell: everyone knows he’s a complete man whore with no shame at all. Hell fuck you all over the palace and in the garden. So sometimes he’ll slip out of meeting and duties just to watch you train, admiring the way your armour and underclothes excentuate your ass. Hell not necessarily slap your ass but he does like to knees it in his hands and watch as it goes redder with his touch. He also likes eating you out and holding your ass cheeks as he does so.

————————————————————————————

I didn’t include as many characters this time because this serves as more of a placeholder whilst I finish my main fic that hopefully should be finished soon. It’s already over 1.5k long and I’m not halfway finished yet 😅

#joel miller #male reader #pedro pascal #gay #agent whiskey #frankie morales #jack daniels #din djarin #male x male #gn reader #ezra prospect #javier pena #javier pena x y/n #javier pena x male reader #javi gutierrez x you #javi gutierrez x reader #javi gutierrez #joel tlou #joel miller x gender neutral reader #joel miller x male reader #marcus moreno x male reader #silva strange way of life #silva x reader #frankie morales x male reader #pedro pascal x male reader #pedro pascal x reader #jose pedro balmaceda pascal

[proxima-writes]

title: father’s day

pairing: post outbreak!joel miller x gender neutral reader

rating: none

summary:

Father’s Day is hard for Joel Miller after losing his daughter.

content warnings/tags: no use of y/n, references to grief and child loss. i don’t think there’s any others, but please let me know if i’ve missed any.

Joel grows more quiet toward the middle of June, his gaze more distant as he moves through the motions of living as guilt weighs heavy on his mind. The phantom fingers of grief curl around his heart, squeezing tightly as he tries to live each day like he didn’t lose his whole world twenty years ago.

He wonders what Sarah would have been like, had the world not gone to shit. Would she have stuck with soccer? Been a good student? Gone to college? What would her degree have been in? He thinks about a little girl with curly hair carrying around her pretend veterinarian toys, diagnosing her stuffed animals, and his throat clogs with emotion.

Joel Miller was a father.

He’s not anymore.

_______

You notice how Joel, who’s already a man of few words as it is, starts to speak less over dinner. As June wears on, the days bright and warm, Joel grows colder. Ellie comes to you with concern one day.

“What’s wrong with Joel?” The young girl asks bluntly. “He’s more of a sad motherfucker than usual.”

“Might be because of Father’s Day,” you tell her as she sits at the table.

“What’s that?”

You tilt your head. Sometimes you forget that Ellie has lived through so much, yet so little all at once. Growing up in a government controlled orphanage and spending your formative years in a military prep school probably didn’t leave much room for learning about many holidays.

“It’s just what it sounds like. A day to celebrate your father,” you tell her.

She’s quiet for a beat before asking, “That why Joel’s so upset?”

“Yeah, that would be my guess.”

“What do you normally do for Father’s Day?”

You think back to your past life, one where you’d had a blood family rather than a found one. When you were a young child, your mom would sign your name to a card from the store and you’d watch as your dad opened a gift he’d specifically requested. In your teens, you would buy him a card yourself and usually a book, something feasible with your part-time job earnings. And the last Father’s Day you remember, you’d been eighteen and away at college, only able to offer him a brief phone call between classes.

“Well, I guess it depends on the kind of relationship you had. There were cards you could buy, and stores would have sales on things like tools or electronics. Some families might have a special meal. People who lost their fathers might visit their grave. If you didn’t have a father or a good relationship with one, I imagine you’d let the day pass without acknowledgement, just another Sunday.”

Ellie nods. “Joel needs a new belt. I’ll ask Marlon to show me how to make one,” she says, referring to the town’s craftsman.

“You…wanna get him a gift? For Father’s Day?” You ask in surprise. Her cheeks heat with a pink flush as she shrugs, looking anywhere but at you.

“I mean, I guess. He’s the closest I’ve had to one,” she replies. You smile at her.

“I think that’s a wonderful idea, Ellie.”

________

Joel lets himself into the house, veins warm from the whiskey he’d had at the Tipsy Bison with Tommy. It had been a silent affair, but a needed one for both men, one mourning a daughter and the other his beloved niece.

He removes his boots at the door before journeying to the kitchen, making a beeline for the sink to get himself a glass of water to wash the lingering taste of whiskey from his mouth. It’s not until he’s about to leave the kitchen does he notice what’s on the table.

There’s a folded piece of paper with his name on it tucked beneath a coiled leather belt. Joel picks up the belt, admiring the stitching and the thick silver buckle. Ever since returning to Jackson, his waist has filled out more thanks to the labor and actual food, not rations or scavenged canned goods, doing his body a favor.

He picks up the card next, Ellie’s familiar scratchy handwriting spelling out his name in large letters on the front. He opens it, reading the message inside.

Why should people stop buying belts?

Because they go to waist.

Happy Father’s Day

Ellie

Joel grits his teeth against the surge of emotion in his chest, eyes stinging with tears. Movement at the corner of his eye catches his attention.

“You put her up to this?” He asks you, gesturing with the belt in his hand.

“Nope. Came up with that all on her own,” you reply with a smile.

He looks at his gift in bewilderment.

Joel Miller was a father.

Perhaps, in the ways that matter most, he still is.

Want more Joel Miller? Check out my masterlist.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #no use of y/n #joel tlou #joel x reader #joel miller x gender neutral reader #ellie williams

[talaok]

Don’t go

Pairing: Joel Miller x reader

Summary: You have to go, but Joel can't let you

Warnings: angst (?)

The words lingered on his tongue like tainted poison.

lingered in the air, in the space between you, 

in his eyes and the way they bore into you, the way they begged you.

don't go, he had prayed, stopping your hand as it turned on the knob.

You let your arm fall to your side, the weight of his words striking you defenseless.

He wasn't supposed to say that.

"I have to"

You watched as his throat struggled to swallow what felt like sand in his mouth.

"You don't," he said "you don't have to"

You heard the shield, the facade, breaking with each letter spilled from his lips.

"I do, Joel, you know I do" you whispered as if it was a secret, as if the walls had ears to attend you with "And you know you'd do the same"

He had to stop at that, to breathe, for he knew that to be the truth, but could not accept it as such.

"You can't," he said, the last brick on his wall tumbling down with the rest "Please"

You shook your head, your eyes damp with sorrow 

"Why?" you could not comprehend "Why are you telling me this now?" you had to ask "Why now that I've made up my mind? Why now that I finally know what I have to do?" you sighed "why, Joel, why?"

He knew this was coming, and yet he felt his skin prick with fear.

"Because I can't do this without you" he confessed without hesitation, feeling all the blood in his veins flow to his heart as it pumped relentlessly. 

He had to calm down. He had to tell you. He owed you at least that.

"Because I can't lose you" he said "not like this, not you too"

And there it was, the truth. The unspoken promise you had vowed to each other, 

that after everything, after everyone, you would be the exception,

That the nagging phantom cursing your existences was going to let this one slide, closing both eyes as it hovered above you.

"Then you won't" you breathed, as your fingers grazed his "But in order to do that, you have to let me go" 

#welcome to yet another episode of chiara you should be studying #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfic #joel miller smut #joel miller imagine #joel miller blurb #joel miller x gender neutral reader #joel miller x gn reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fluff #narcos #javier peña #the mandalorian #mando #the last of us #tlou #the last of us hbo #tlou hbo #fanfiction #angst

[sprout-fics]

"Get inside." Joel tells you, and his calloused hand tightens on your shoulder just a fraction, not enough for anyone but the both of you to notice. The deep, gruff rumble of his voice in your ear conveys all the meaning you mean to hear. Familiar, it whispers to you: Danger. Threat. Listen to me. I'll protect you. I'll keep you safe. Don't ignore me.

"Now." Joel growls, and he pulls away enough to give you a look that lasts a millisecond, too short to go noticed by the courier.

You nod at him, but the prickle of peril still skims across your flesh, nipping in a shallow bite. Tasting, teasing, a parting augury that leaves you shivering as you turn in the direction of the cabin.

The courier's eyes never leave you, not even as his conversation with Joel continues, his voice a lazy drawl compared to Joel's clipped, brusque replies. Your skin crawls, and you feel his stare rake over you with a slimy, lasting touch. Putrid, unwanted, vile.

You cast a glance behind you once you reach the porch steps, and blink when you find Joel croding closer to the younger man, fists curled at his side. There's a look that passes over the courier's face then, brow knotted and lips turning into a displeased sneer.

For a moment you turn, ready to go back and intervene in the building confrontation. Yet then you see Joel's shoulders rise as he speaks and the courier's face drops, goes ashen and slack at whatever it is Joel has just said to him. The threat, though you can't hear it, hangs heavy suspended between them. You can see it, the way the younger man looks at Joel with a brief, vulnerable expression of fear.

He swallows, shuffles for a moment before tipping his hat at you in a brief but abashed farewell. Then he's getting on his horse, shaky hands grabbing the reins and turning back towards the hill from whence he came.

"What did you say to him?" You ask Joel when he eventually paces over towards the porch, his shoulders still taut, frown creased across his face. He peels off his work gloves, stuffs them hasitly in his back pocket as he brushes past you. You think he won't give you an answer, leave you wondering as to what words he spoke to the man who dared to look at you the way he did.

Joel pauses with his hand on the door handle, still facing away from you. He stays there for a moment, ad you watch as the tension eases from his shoulders for a moment.

"I told him." He says, voice low, reeking of an imminent tempest, a fury he keeps simmered down low, deep inside himself, ready to boil at a moment's notice.

"I told him if he ever looked at you again I'd pop his goddamn kneecap off."

The door stays ajar behind him, and you're left alone, the autumn wind breathing cold across your nape.

Yet warmth blooms within you, a familiar yet distorted dissession to the icy threat of Joel's words. Rather than settle in your bones with a lurid freeze, Joel's warning instead summons an affection like the proximity of a hearth, ensconsed within the promise of his protection.

"I've got you." The heat in your chest murmurs in conjunction with his voice. "I'll keep you safe, even if I have to stain my hands scarlet to do just that."

#joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x gender neutral reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x y/n #drabbles

[whiskeybeforesunset]

Ghosts | Joel Miller

Pairing: Joel Miller x GN!Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Synopsis: Reader is with Joel and Ellie as they enter Jackson. Fair warning, this is going to be more of a slow burn. There’s a nice vulnerable moment between reader and Joel, and indications of rising tensions between new and old family. 

Warnings: Panic attack, reference to death of characters (Sarah), I’m pretty sure that’s it.

Author’s note: Joel is probably out of character, it's been a few months since I watched the show. Reader has a dead brother. I’ve tried to keep this one gender neutral so everyone can enjoy it. Time’s a bit wibbly-wobbly and I think I ended up moving some things around to make more sense for this story. I’m planning on doing a part two, not quite sure where I want it to go though. On a more personal note: This is the first time I’ve written a fanfiction in a few months and also the first time I’ve ever done it sober. Who knows whether that will make it better or worse. I did miss writing so hopefully I’m able to keep up with it now that it’s summer. Hope you enjoy it. 

Next Chapter

___

Your eyes shift around the entryway of the home Joel, Ellie, and you have been boarded for the night. It’s cozy, you think, would make a nice family home. 

You notice some patches on the walls of the living room, and walk further into the house to take a closer look. Rectangles, a slightly darker shade of green then the paint surrounding them, spaced out as if… as if they were frames hung on the wall.

You make a somber correction to your previous thought: this was a nice family home. 

Before your melancholy can fully settle in, you hear the front door open. 

“Ellie?” You call out, thinking she had returned from her time with Maria. Giving a glance through the hall you instead see a frazzled looking Joel. 

“What's wrong?” You ask, making your way back to the entryway. His eyes shift from you to the door, like a startled deer determining the best way to avoid danger. Ultimately, he seems to decide he would rather deal with your questions than face whatever he saw outside. 

“Nothing.” The word leaves his mouth breathlessly. You watch as his chest quickly rises and falls. 

“Joel-” You say calmly.

“I said, I’m fine.” He says more assertively this time, glaring at you through his eyebrows. 

“Tell me what’s going on.” You respond, unwilling to let up on the issue.

“It’s nothing.” He turns from you and starts to walk through the house, looking for some other room to escape to.

“If there’s something important, something with Tommy.” You start to follow him.

“Just stop!” He turns around and yells. 

You find eyes with tears in them. He looks utterly defeated. You meet his gaze not with pity, but with recognition. 

“There was a woman,” he starts, “in the square she… she looked like Sarah. And,” he pauses to take a breath, contracting chest making it difficult for him to speak. His eyes frantically dart, as if the movement will prevent tears from falling. “And she had a kid.” He finishes with a wet sob, ducking his head. 

You nod sympathetically. Joel had told you about Sarah. Not all the details, but enough. Enough for you to know what seeing that would mean to him. 

You look at the man before you, who so often acts as an unstoppable force of rage, reduced to tears. 

Putting a cautious hand on his shoulder, you say “there’s a guy back in the QZ, he uh,” you pause as he takes in a shuddering breath. “He looks just like my brother.”

Joel lifts his head slightly at this. It’s not as if in these times it’s surprising to find out someone has lost someone important to them, but similar to how Joel doesn’t talk about Sarah, you rarely mention your brother. 

“I mean he never,” you pause, finding refuge from Joel’s gaze in the wall's patterned discoloration. “He never got as old as this guy, but dammit if he’s not the spitting image of him, ‘specially from behind.” You give a sad laugh, tears beginning to form in your eyes as well. 

“Anyways, when I used to see this guy around, I would uh,” you pause, noticing that Joel had begun uniformly breathing again. Good, he was starting to calm down. “I would stand behind him and pretend it was my brother. And that at any moment he was gonna turn around and make some stupid comment about my shoes being beat up, or my hair looking like a rats nest.” You finished, running your other hand through your hair self-consciously. 

“Used to?” Joel’s gruff voice pulls you out of your trains of thought. 

“Yeah, well,” you look up at him, noticing your proximity for the first time. Your head quickly turned back to the wall before continuing, “a- after a while he started to notice me more. I think he thought I was scoping him out to mug him or something.” You felt your hand, still on Joel’s shoulder, shake as he laughed. “I, uh, I had to stop after he pulled a knife on me.” You say, finishing with a sad grin. You pause, reflecting on the current state of the world, and the degree to which a wariness of those around you is necessary to survive. 

“Anyways, what I’m trying to say is, I know what it feels like to have those moments…” You once again return your gaze to Joel. “If you ever want to talk about it- this, or anything else, I’m here for you.”

He nods slowly, looking back at you. His eyes are slightly puffy and glossy from crying, cheeks and lips flushed. Both of you are breathing heavily as you recover from the emotionally heightened moment. Your hand on his shoulder moves down and into a more comfortable position, resting on his chest. 

At the movement Joel clears his throat and takes a step back. Your eyes find the floor as he stiffly thanks you and excuses himself. Your hand finally reaching your side as he closes the door. 

That was certainly… odd, you think to yourself. Your thumb dances over your fingertips as you consider the events of the last few minutes. In memory, you’ve never seen Joel that vulnerable. Hell, you barely got his last name out of him after knowing him for years, nevertheless had him cry in front of you. 

And what was that at the end? It was as if he… no- you had to have imagined it. He was probably just in some kind of shock, too emotionally overloaded to immediately reject the contact. Yes, that explains the way in which he left. Although he did look a bit… 

You sigh, shaking your head. There’s no point in entertaining such thoughts. You need to stay focused on Ellie, keeping her safe and getting her where she needs to go. 

…

You spend the remainder of the afternoon taking inventory of your supplies, reminding yourself to thank Maria for the new gloves she had left. 

Conveniently, you’re able to do so when she comes by with Ellie, inviting you to come to the movie theater with them. Not one to pass up the rare opportunity, you agree.

The walk there is oddly quiet given how vocal Ellie usually is, but you decide not to bring it up now. You’ll have a chance to talk to her about it more privately later. 

The makeshift theater is packed. Maria gestures toward the back and tells you that’s where to find Tommy and Joel. 

Right. Joel.

You make your way through the crowd and eventually spot them. The somewhat heated discussion they seemed to be having before your arrival quickly dissipates as Tommy greets you by shouting your name and pulling you in for a short hug.

Maria joins you after showing Ellie her seat, though it’s only a few seconds before Tommy asks her to step outside to discuss something with him. You notice Joel gives him a warning glare as he does this. 

You join Joel, standing beside him a very intentional distance away. Not far enough that someone might try and squeeze between you, but enough to try and respect the boundaries you feel you crossed earlier. 

“Don’t get this back in the QZ, do ya?” You say as two men set up the projector. 

Joel responds with a quick exhale.

“Joel Miller, a man of few words and many grunts.” You say, hoping to break the tension with some humor. 

It seems to have worked, he replies back: “What’s that thing you’re supposed to do in theaters?” It’s in an annoyed but not necessarily angry tone. You glance over at him, noting that he must not arrive long before you did as his cheeks are still rosy from the winter weather. 

“Oh my god! You’re right.” You say with a sarcastic gasp, “I almost forgot to silence my cell phone.” 

“I was thinking more the no talking part.” He says rolling his eyes, but struggling to look unamused with your joke. 

You allow the silence to fall over you as the light dim and the film starts up. 

At some point during the movie your eyes drift over the crowd to find Ellie. You once again open your mouth, much to Joel’s annoyance. 

“It’s nice to see her get to be a kid.” You say quietly. He looks at her and then down to you.

“Yeah… it is.” There’s a pause as the two of you listen to the grainy voices coming through the speakers.

“Joel,” you start, “do you ever think we’re doing the wrong thing?” Turning to look at him, you know you don’t have to indicate what the question is in reference to. His eyes are fixed forward as light from the shifting screen dances across his face. 

“Yes.” He says quietly after taking a deep breath. It’s not an unexpected answer, but a haunting one nonetheless.

Your eyes turn towards the screen, and you remain quiet for the remainder of the film. 

#the last of us #tlou #tlou hbo #tlou fanfiction #joel miller #Joel Miller TLOU #joel miller x gender neutral reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x male reader #joel miller x m!reader #joel miller x masc!reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal the last of us #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller x gn!reader #joel miller angst #joel miller series #joel miller fic #pedro pascal fic #gn reader #pedro pascal x female reader #pedro pascal x f!reader #pedro pascal x male reader #pedro pascal x m!reader #pedro pascal x masc!reader #pedro pascal x fem!reader

[abigails-gf]

This is a romantic Joel Miller request. Hope that is okay. I was thinking something like the reader goes through what Ellie goes through and it reminds them of their childhood abuse, and Joel comforts them.

joel miller x gender neutral reader.

warnings: SA, mention of childhood abuse.

a/n: thank you for this request. joel brings me a lot of comfort during hard times. i hope i understood your request, thank you and stay safe.

today started like every other day – you woke up early and got dressed, made coffee for you and joel. “you’re on duty this morning, aren’t ya?” he asked, kissing your forehead. you nodded, drinking from your mug. “ellie’s with me this morning. i should probably go wake her up.”

you put your mug in the sink and said goodbye to joel before putting on your coat and backpack. and leaving your shared home.

you walked across the street to ellie’s house and knocked. a few minutes later, she opened the door, still in her pyjamas.

“oh shit, sorry, i totally forgot i was on patrol this morning! i’ll be quick. just give me 10 minutes.” you chuckled. “don’t worry, take your time els.” you said as you entered her house, sitting on a chair while she hurried to get dressed in the bathroom.

a few minutes later, ellie came out of the bathroom and picked up her backpack. “i’m ready.”

you went to the stables to pick up shimmer, ellie’s horse and then picked up your arc and bows while ellie took her usual gun. you were off to work.

you were behind ellie on shimmer’s back, looking around for any infected or unusual things. “there’s a party at seth’s on friday, don’t know if you’re coming.” ellie started, “but everyone will be there. and you might be able to drag joel along. i know he’s not a party guy, but if you’re there, maybe he’ll come.” you smiled. “you bet i’m forcing joel to come with me. i want to see that old man on the dance floor.” you both laughed before stopping.

“hey, look. isn’t that house usually empty? why are the lights on?” you whispered as you were approaching the house. “couldn’t be infected. they don’t need lights. wanna go check that out?” ellie asked.

you nodded. once you were a few meters away from the house, you got off the horse, nodding to ellie. she got off shimmer, holding her gun, staying there in case you needed some backup inside.

you walked to the house, and knocked on the door. no one answered. “hello?” you said as you pushed the handle. the door was open.

you got into the house. it was empty; no furniture, no people, nothing. then why were the lights on? and that’s when someone tackled you, your back hitting the wooden floor.

it was a man. he was holding you down, his hands pinning your wrists to the ground and his body holding yours down. “get off of me!” you tried to get your arc but realized it was behind your back. you couldn’t move. “please!” you cried out. the man smirked, watching you helpless under him. you tried to scream, to call for ellie, but you couldn’t. nothing came out of your mouth, your body was trapped under him. “it’s gonna happen, again.” you thought, silent tears forming at the corner of your eyes.

the man held your wrists with one of his hands while the other was going to undo his pants. you knew what was going to happen. you were in the exact same position once again – and once again, you couldn’t do anything to escape.

suddenly, the man fell next to you. your brain didn’t register what was happening until ellie came close to you, holding her gun, one of her hand out, trying to get you up before you shook your head. “come on, y/n. we can’t stay here. we have to go!” she said, trying to hold your hand. you shook your head again. ellie sighed and sat next to you on the floor. “i won’t touch you if you don’t want me to. but please, let’s go.”

you got up. your vision was blurry but you managed to get to the horse with ellie staying close to you, in case you lost your balance. she helped you get on the horse, held her tight as shimmer ran back to jackson.

as the gates opened, ellie hurried to get you to joel’s house, still on shimmer’s back.

joel came out of the house, hearing the horse’s steps. “what’s going on?” joel asked. ellie quickly turned to you and looked back at joel. “i got it. thanks, kiddo. you ok?” ellie nodded. joel helped you get off shimmer and you rushed into his arms, holding on tight to his shirt. “i’ll come by later. i’m going to see tommy.”

joel got you back into the house, held you close to him as he took your boots and coat off. he walked you to your shared bedroom. he tried to put you on the bed, but you held onto him. joel looked at you, worried. it wasn’t the first time he saw you like this. the first time he saw you like that was when you once had a nightmare about your childhood, you woke up sweating and crying, whispering that you wanted to go home.

joel sat on the bed, with you in his arms. “i’m guessing you don’t want to talk about it.” you shook your head, grabbing on joel’s shirt tightly. “it’s okay, pumpkin. i’m here now. you’re safe.” at those words, you started to sob. “i’m sorry, i’m sorry.” you repeated in between sobs. joel rubbed your back, rocking you back and forth. “i know baby, i know. s’not your fault. you did nothing wrong. it’s okay, baby. you’re home now. i got you. you’re safe.”

joel’s words were comforting. his smell was comforting. “try to take deep breaths for me, okay pumpkin? can you do that f’me?” you nodded in his arms and tried to calm down. “that’s good, honey. you’re doing great. i’m proud of you.” joel kissed your forehead multiple times. “i love you, y/n. you’re safe here. no one’s gonna hurt you now. i’m here, i’ll protect you.”

he continued to rock you, holding you, kissing your forehead and comforting you until your breath calmed down. when you stopped gripping his shirt, he noticed that you had fallen asleep in his arms. he sighed, relieved that you calmed down and kissed your forehead once more, “you’re safe here, i promise.” he whispered, holding you for a few more seconds before putting you on the bed. he stayed in the room for a little, making sure that you were okay and then left the room, leaving the door open in case you woke up.

you could smell his scent on your bed sheets, and still feel his warm embrace around you. you knew that you were safe as long as he was around. joel was your safe place, your home.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #joel miller x gender neutral reader #joel miller #joel miller tlou #joel miller blurb #tlou fic #tlou2 #ellie williams #the last of us #the last of us 2 #joel miller comfort

[hellsenthero]

Addicted

Joel X Reader

Warnings/themes: Smut, language, hint at an age gap, hint of past violence. (1K words.)

He wasn't good for you, but fuck, he was addicted to you.

MASTERLIST

Written by: hellsenthero

-----

He was bad for you. He was a dark storm cloud, a serpent in the garden. You were sunshine and orange blossoms. He was from another time, an older time. You were new, fresh to all the world had to offer. Your hands were well manicured, and his were covered in blood. He was every dark thing you weren't. You were every good and golden bit that he wasn't. 

He should have left you alone, stayed away. It's what the others whispered to each other when he had his back turned. He knew it, they knew it, but fuck… he was addicted. 

He was addicted to you. Your pretty voice and soft hands, your golden heart and open mind. When you said his name… when you moaned his name. 

He was an addict and you were his drug of choice. You consumed him.

You'd giggle whenever he'd tell you. A pretty sound. An addicting sound. And when he'd show you, his hips thrusting into your own… those giggles turned to moans. 

"Joel!" Fuck, he loved the sound of his name coming from your lips. 

"That's it baby, doin' so good for me." Your hips opened wider for him, taking everything he had to give you. 

"God, please Joel," he loved your begging, when you'd call out to him like he was your God. But you both knew, silently, that he was the real martyr. 

He was so dark and so bad for you, but you didn't care. When he came home from patrol you were always there, waiting to rush into his arms. When he turned his back on the whispering people of Jackson you'd stare them down, daring them, taunting them, all while holding onto his slippery, scarlet hand. 

Red suits him. It's what you'd say when he'd question you. Red's a colour of passion, a colour of courage and lust. He didn't love the idea of it, not until he found out red was also your favourite colour. 

Now he doesn't find red to be that bothersome. 

You're sweet, like honey. He's bitter, like dark coffee and black licorice. Funny enough, you like your coffee black. No cream, no sugar. He's a cup half empty, and you're a cup half full. 

He's tried to tell you to find someone else, someone good. But the words often die on his lips with a single look from you. Sometimes, he swears you're a mind reader. Or perhaps he's just an open book. 

"Don't gimme' that look Joel." 

"What look?" It wasn't like him to play dumb, but around you, he sometimes couldn't help himself. 

"Like you pity me for bein' with you." 

"Sorry baby."

His easy acceptance of your command was another thing that surprised the people of Jackson. Joel was the boss on patrol, the commander. People feared him in town, stepped on eggshells around him and ducked their heads. His hard glare could be felt by everyone. But then you'd run up next to him, grabbing his hand and steering him wherever you wished. You'd take his lead and he'd gladly follow, like a little puppy. His hard eyes went wide, his frown turning up and he'd follow you. 

God, he'd follow you anywhere. 

He never wanted to have someone again, not after Sarah. He never wanted another liability, another person he could lose. He couldn't open himself up to that kind of pain again. So when you met and he saw this bright, shining light of a person… he'd turned you away. Again and again, he turned you away. He was a fucking asshole. He wished he could punch his past self for the shit he'd pulled. Break his own fucking jaw. But despite all that shit, you stayed by his side and slowly, you wormed your way into his cold, dead heart. 

It wasn't until you nearly died one night that he'd finally admitted his feelings for you, it wasn't until that night that he accepted his feelings for you. 

He was on watch when he fell asleep, something he still blamed himself for. He'd fucking fell asleep on his watch and when he woke it was to the sound of your screams. Five raiders had gotten the drop on you, on him. Three men crowded him, grabbed him, while two held onto you. When he saw their hands on you, grabbing you, his rage wasn't hot and burning, it was cold, a frozen, deadly thing. 

You say what he did next was something unhinged, but he doesn't remember any of it. His memories of the night are scrambled. Raiders, darkness, you. You in his arms, you surrounding him, warming that frozen thing inside of him. 

"I'm okay," you'd told him once he had you in his arms. "You saved us. We're okay. I'm okay." He'd almost believed you, until he noticed your black eye. Then he was reaching for his gun, again. Shooting at the already dead bodies. "Hey, hey, stop that. It's okay, I'm okay." He only stopped shooting once you got the gun out of his hands, then you were pushing him down. His back met the cold earth and you stayed over him, filling his vision. 

Neither of you cared about the dead bodies around you when you'd shedded your clothing. You didn't seem to care about the blood covered earth as you fucked and Joel, well Joel enjoyed it. 

That was the night that Joel realized he was hooked on you, that he'd been hooked on you from the moment he'd met you. It was a night of revelations, of claiming, of bonding, and it was probably the darkest side of you Joel's ever seen. It was a possessive side of you that needed to claim him just as he needed to claim you. 

"Joel, baby," the sound of your voice was such a pretty sound and Joel found himself running his good ear towards you, waiting to hear more, needing to hear more. "Come to bed, it's late." With a creak of the floorboards he turned around and walked towards you. You had the covers of your bed already pulled back for him, an open invitation. "What's goin' on in that head of yours?" You asked once Joel was situated. His arms wrapped around you and he pulled you in tight.

"Just thinkin',"

"About?" 

Joel pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head. "About how fuckin' lucky I am to have you." 

Your laugh warmed him from the inside. "Don't you forget it." 

#joel x reader #joel miller #the last of us #joel miller x gender neutral reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel x male reader #joel x gn reader #joel x reader smut #joel x reader fluff #joel x reader flangst #the last of us fandom #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst

[pedroscurls]

The Teacher | series masterlist

wip | ao3

Summary: You have been on your own for over a year and after Maria saves you and brings you to Jackson, you try and settle in, doing your best to contribute to the community. Though, it doesn’t help that your neighbor, Joel Miller, reminds you of a special person from before the outbreak. Character pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader Rating: 18+, explicit (minors dni), each chapter will have warnings -- if applicable.

Part 1: Welcome to Jackson

Part 2: The Tour

Part 3: Dinner at the Millers 

Part 4: Flashbacks

Part 5: Second Chances

Part 6: A New Relationship

Part 7: Confessions

Part 8: Ellie’s Truth

Part 9: Sarah Miller

Part 10.

Part 11.

Part 12.

Part 13.

Part 14.

Part 15.

Part 16.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal character #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfic #joel miller #joel miller hbo #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #the last of us #tlou #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fanfic #tlou fanfiction #tlou fanfic #joel miller x reader #joel miller x reader (you) #joel miller x gender neutral reader #story: the teacher #the teacher series masterlist

[prentissluvr]

feverish — joel miller

gn!reader, platonic!reader, fatherfigure!joel , sickfic , cw : mentions of fever & coughing, sickness in general, mostly unedited , wc : 1K , anon i hope you enjoy it !! <333

joel notices immediately when you begin lagging behind him and ellie. but you don’t say anything, so neither does he, just pausing occasionally to let you catch up.

in the end, it’s ellie who says something.

“hey, are you okay?” she asks you once you’re all settled by the fire. joel, whose attention seems to be solely on the meat he’s cooking, is peering at you subtly, listening intently for your reaction.

“i’m fine,” you wave off her concern, “just a little tired today, is all.” your answer’s not a complete lie, it’s true that you’re tired, but what you don’t tell them is the way you can feel the sickness starting to settle in your bones. really, it was yesterday you first started feeling it, but it hadn’t begun to slow you down until a few hours into hiking today.

“well then, we’d better get to sleep right after eating,” joel advises. “best get as much sleep as you can for tomorrow.”

you heed his advice, curling into your sleeping bag the moment you can in hopes that good enough rest will prevent you from truly falling ill. ellie talks for a few minutes the way she normally does before sleeping, but joel cuts her off earlier than normal tonight for your sake. with that reasoning, she actually listens to him and settles down to sleep herself.

—

your hopes of escaping sickness are unfairly stolen from you in the morning when you wake up with the sun, groggy and completely out of it. your nose is stuffy, throat sore, and limbs heavy when you rustle about in your covers. you just turn to your side and do your best to drift back into what turns out to be a quite restless sleep.

the next time you wake, it’s to ellie gently nudging your shoulder for you to get up as joel finishes cleaning up camp. you groan in protest, halfheartedly pushing her away.

“it’s almost time to go,” she says, “joel let you sleep in.”

you let out a huff of breath, wishing you could lay in bed all day before struggling to sit up. rubbing at your eyes, you take in the state of your tired, compromised body and decide it’s certainly best if you say nothing about it. no reason to make anyone worry or slow down your journey.

so you push past your discomfort, standing up and quickly packing up your bag. but your plans to cover up your sickness do not go as well as planned when you begin coughing and sniffling uncontrollably.

about the fourth time you lean against a tree to support yourself during a coughing bout, joel stops completely, handing you water and waiting until you’re done to speak.

“you’re gettin’ sick, kid,” he states, very aware that you’ve been quiet in order to prevent causing an inconvenience to him and ellie. you shake your head, so he continues. “you can let us know if you’re not feeling well, you know? that’s not something you can control. what d’ you say we make camp early and rest for the day?”

“no!” you exclaim, “no, that’s alright, i’m fine. i swear. i don’t even feel that sick, it just sounds like it,” you try to explain away the actual extent of your sickness.

he says your name, gentle and firm like the hand he places on your shoulder. “you look like you could fall over any second. i ain’t buying any of that, alright? you need to rest so that you don’t get more sick, you understand me?

you want to keep trying, to convince him and a watching ellie that you’re fine, but it seems you can never argue with that tone of voice he uses when he’s truly serious about something.

“fine,” you relent with a sigh, feeling half grateful, half guilty, and one hundred percent sick as you trek along until you find an appropriate campground.

joel orders you to lay down when you try and help set up, only asking you to move once a fire is going so that you can soak up it’s warmth. as you lay there, it seems as if all of your stubbornness is catching up to you, and you can’t resist it when your eyes drift closed despite the sun still being clear in the sky.

with a mind too groggy with sickness and sleep, you don’t process much even when you’re awake. ellie stays close by to your laying form, silently worried by the sickness that’s visible in your face and the coughs that wrack your body. she jumps up each time joel asks her to do anything, eager to help you rather than just sit by and do nothing. joel too is dedicated to caring for you, his soft palm feeling your forehead for signs of fever as you slip in and out of sleep. he does his best to create a broth from bones and freshly hunted meat throughout the hours that you sleep for you to eat when you wake.

when you squirm uncomfortably in your sleep with your brows furrowed, he does his best to calm your distress with gentle touches. past memories of caring for a sick child are clear in his head, both hurting his heart but helping him to help you the best he can.

you try to resist his help again once you wake, but the weakness in your limbs doesn’t let you get far, so your resolve crumbles far faster this time. he helps you drink and eat all while ellie does her best to cheer you up with corny jokes and over exaggerated retellings of things that have happened throughout your journey all together. it works well, her words resulting in your laughing so hard that you begin to cough and a non-threatening glare from joel in her direction.

but soon, you tire again, so joel insists you go back to sleep, just as twilight fades into total darkness. you don’t argue this time, nor at all the next day as he and ellie patiently nurse you back to health until you’re spry and well again.

#joel miller #joel miller x platonic!reader #platonic joel miller #father figure joel #joel miller tlou #tlou show #joel miller x gender neutral reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller comfort #joel miller fluff #joel miller imagine #joel miller angst #joel miller x gn!reader #joel miller hbo #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fluff #tlou joel #joel miller father figure #the last of us

[iamasaddie]

movie night

paring: Joel Miller x gn!reader 

rating: gen 

word count: 560 

masterlist

You know when work’s been hard on him. You see it in all the little details he thinks you won't notice. You see it in the way he gradually stays in bed for five minutes longer, until he literally has to jump out of bed and into his car, foregoing breakfast. The way his goodbye kisses seem to be more desperate, like he’s searching for energy and life between your lips and on your tongue. And how his shoulders are more and more slouched every day. He becomes more silent, his presence in your life reduced to lung-crushing hugs as you quietly slip into bed. The rustling of plain satin sheets and the flickering light at the bedside table are the only sounds in the room. He looks at the small lamp tiredly, and before he makes another promise to fix it, you switch it off and press his hand tighter around your chest. You know he'll fix it, like he fixed everything that was wrong in your life, but now it's not important, not when his thoughts are heavier than his deep and almost deafening breathing.

On these kinds of weeks, Fridays are the worst; they lay the heaviest on his shoulders, almost making his knees give out as he reaches the couch and crushes down, practically drowning between the cushions and rubbing his eyes.

“I’m so glad this goddamn week is over.” He groans, and it's almost unintelligible with the way his hand is pressed to his face.

You nudge your feet under his thigh and wiggle your toes, humming in agreement. You didn’t know what mood he’d be in tonight, so you went with the safe option of putting on his favorite movie and trying your best not to overcook the sauce for pasta. When the intro song starts playing, he jumps a little and looks at the screen and then at you as if he'd seen a ghost.

“No way.” You just smile mischievously and nod a little. “You said you hated blockbusters.”

“I decided that I’m going to give it a shot. If you love it, it must be good.”

His eyes become softer. There is a glint of doubt in the irises that look black in the low lighting of the room. “Why d’you think that?”

“Because you love me,” you crawl closer to him, your noses almost touching, “and I’m fantastic.”

His smile is radiant, and even though his tired eyes look ten years older than his age, they smile along with his lips. Joel slowly caresses your nose with a tip of his before giving you a little peck on the bridge.

“Yeah, that you are.”

It's warm and safe in his arms, and his smell lulls you to sleep faster than the mumbling of the old TV. You know he won't be sad that you missed that scene he’s been buzzing about, but you still decide to watch the film again when you're more awake. He steals glances at you, noticing how lights play on your calm face, and feels the weight slowly lifted off his shoulders, brick by brick. With every puff of breath you exhale into his chest, Joel feels lighter. He tugs you in closer and thinks that he's ready to endure his toughest week for the rest of his life if that meant coming home to you.

#joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x gender neutral reader #joel miller #tlou fanfiction #tlou #serenaxpedro gif #serenaxpedro writes #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #iamasaddie fic

[bumblesimagines]

❝ lie down, you’re going to hurt yourself. ❞

❝ i want to help you. please, let me help you. ❞

- Joel Miller

gonna finish these up

❝ lie down, you’re going to hurt yourself. ❞

❝ i want to help you. please, let me help you. ❞

Pronouns: They/them, Gender Neutral

Another goddamn attack by the Fireflies. An explosion that did more harm than good to the people living alongside FEDRA. They were failing at their only mission and you were getting tired of both them and FEDRA.

You kept your distance from the building as soldiers swarmed it in search of causalities and the perpetrators, disappearing behind the cloud of smoke and ash. They hardly ever caught the damn idiots. They were also failing at their only mission.

As you went to turn, you caught sight of a man limping into an alleyway. You paused and glanced between the soldiers and the man. Your backpack felt heavy against your back. On one hand, you could risk being caught by FEDRA and interrogated for nothing over a hurt man. On the other hand, you could help someone and be owed a favor. And favors could go a long way.

Perhaps against your better judgement, you walked toward the alleyway, slipping inside and following the droplets of blood splattered on the concrete floor until you spotted the man leaning against the wall, clutching his side.

Joel Miller.

Your feet stopped on their own and your stomach did a flip. Joel Miller was an infamous man. A brutal and cold man. A man who could snap your neck without blinking and keep on walking. A man in need of some medical assistance.

"The hell you want?" His deep southern accent rumbled deep within your bones. Your instincts told you to turn around and get the hell away from Joel Miller before he added you to the list of people he's killed. But you took in a deep breath instead.

"I want to help you." You answered, surprised at the calmness in your tone. Joel squinted at you and furrowed his brows. "Please, let me help you."

"No." He responded through gritted teeth, pushing himself off the wall only to stumble slightly. He pressed his lips together tightly, dark eyes flickering over to you when you stepped closer.

"Lie down, you’re going to hurt yourself." You told him, swallowing down the fear forming in the back of your throat. He stood still for a moment, sucking his teeth and slumping back against the wall. He slid down it, wincing and taking in deep breaths. You'd never seen Joel so vulnerable.

"You gone help me or not?" Joel sneered, forcing you to quickly move toward him. You crouched down and slipped the backpack off, rummaging through the supplies you had. He watched you closely with rigid shoulders, almost as if waiting for you to finish him off. He lifted the side of his shirt for you to see his wound. He'd gotten cut up with something, likely thrown back due to the explosion.

"Alright, okay, I should mention I have no training in this." You chuckled nervously, pulling out the bandages and rubbing alcohol. Joel grunted softly, in disbelief rather than pain. Taking out the bandana you used for work on occasion, you pressed it to the top of the bottle and tilted the bottle, letting it soak up. Joel inhaled deeply and released a low groan when you pressed the bandana to his side. His hand landed on your shoulder, squeezing tight enough you knew it'd leave a bruise.

"Shit." Joel breathed and released your shoulder, chest heaving and head tilting back.

"Help me put this on, Miller." You pressed one side of the bandage onto him. He did as told, leaning forward and wrapping the bandage around his midsection.

Wiping off the alcohol and blood on your pants, you gave him a smile. "I feel like we're going to be friends." Your words earned a scoff and an eye roll in return.

#x reader #x you #x y/n #x male reader #x female reader #x gender neutral reader #the last of us #tlous #the last of us x reader #the last of us x male reader #the last of us x you #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x gender neutral reader #joel miller x male reader

[abilouwrites]

AMERICAN DREAM

First fic in a while 😐😃

:(no outbreak) Sarah, drinking, dilfs. Ranch on pizza, food. Hives AFAB reader. Periods

Joel would often wonder what his life would be like, would he have that American dream? Would she have stayed? Would he not be a contractor living day to day in a house he can barely afford.

Would she still be a doctor instead of running away at the sight of a positive test. Would she be the mother she wanted to be.

Maybe instead she would’ve been a stay at home mom, nursing babies and enjoying life. Would he have had that cushy job her mother approved of.

He sees her in his dream sometimes, hair tied back like always, especially when she was thinking. Hard at thought; nose in her textbooks.

But instead she was eternalized by his dreams, stuffed into baggy clothes to hide the bump, crying in the shitty apartment they were living in.

In his dreams shes standing in the kitchen, Sarah tucked under her arm as she’s mashing potatoes, angrily grunting away and blabbing about some girl on the soccer team.

Sometimes he’d like to imagine the two of them having another kid, sometimes he’d imagine her stomach swollen still covered in those hives she used to get.

Sarah gets them, stressed, in the sun too much. Her skin flares and she ends up with her skin scratched raw, spoon feeding her ice cream in an ice bath.

He’d imagine her, kissing him at the door and untightening his tie, taking his briefcase and setting it by the coffee table he built.

Instead he’s taking his flannel off and seeing Sarah once again making eggs, “hi sweetie, you ok?” He’ll ask kissing the part of her hair.

“Yeah, I made eggs.” She always says, “I put cheese in them too. If you grab some of the bread and toast it I can put some bacon on too”

“No ‘m alright sweetheart. The guys ordered pizza, brought you some for lunch tomorrow”

“Thanks” she says, scratching the back of her hair to which Joel lifts it up seeing the small lumps with red circles around, “hives”

“Uh oh, do I need to go buy icecream?” He jokes

“No, no im fine.”

It’s when Sarah starts truly growing up when he is at a loss; unsure of what to do. Confused and nervous. But aware of the young adult neighbors who’d moved in.

It’s an awkward situation, nervously knocking on a door he’s only interacted with once. And that was just introducing himself and Sarah.

It’s just about seven at night, and a young woman appears at the door after some shouting. It’s clear she’s half asleep; the television blaring in the background. There’s a girl passed out on the floor and the woman at the door turns back, “Becca, turn Sofie on her side. If she barfs she’s gonna choke” she stares before closing the door.

A southern accent drawls from her voice, one clearly hidden from years out of state, “somethin I can help you with?” She asks, sweeping some hair out of her eyes.

“M so sorry for the bother, my daughter. Uh Sarah. She’s uh” he nervously looks at the ground, “got her period.. and I uh don’t know what to do”

“Oh yeah, give me a sec”

She runs back inside; and whilst Joel is completely expecting for her to ditch she comes out later with a box of pads, “I remember her, uh will you show me to her?” The twenty something girl.

He leads her upstairs knocking on the crummy white door, “sar, it’s one of the neighbors. She’s a uh. Girl and I think she will know what to do”

“Ok..” the muffled voice is shaky and clear that she had been crying.

“Hey. I’m y/n” you tell her your name and she responds with hers.

“Y/n, I’ll be downstairs. Beer?”

“No thank you Mr.Miller. I don’t drink on school nights”

“Alright. I’ll be downstairs”

You see him more and more, drinks now and then. Babysitting for some extra cash. A cool house that isn’t full of partying.

He finds you, usually asleep on the couch, Sarah’s head on your lap. He sees the similarities between you and her, heat hives.

It’s unexpected when he finds you in the shower, “you alright?”

“Gosh I’m sorry Mr.Miller, Im breaking out in hives and Sarah said I could use the cold shower”

“No, you’re alright. Do I pop a bottle of wine and order pizza?”

“God that’d be lovely.”

Joel never opens wine unless it’s with you, and you manage do drink half of it. And half a pizza, with Sarah’s assistance of course, “I didn’t know a sorority girl could eat that much” Joel jokes seeing you dip your pizza into some ranch.

“Mnh, I also played volleyball and was on my collages soccer team before I graduated” You say, “never missed a meal, kept my mass up, I’m on the bulk right now” You inform

“Jesus, ranch with pizza? What are you a wild animal”

You laugh at him as Sarah looks disapprovingly. He still walks you home and waits for you to lock the door before he goes home.

Sarah is still there, eating leftover pepperoni, “you like her” she states

“Don’t lie you lil twerp”

“No I’m serious, non of the others made you open up like that, and I wouldn’t mind having her around. I mean she basically lives here anyways”

#pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller x you #joel tlou #joel x reader #joel the last of us #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x reader #joel miller x plus size reader #joel miller x gender neutral reader

[ghostly-wisp]

NIGHT TERROR.

💌: Joel Miller x gn!reader

🎞: The Last Of Us (HBO adaptation)

👥: Joel Miller, Mentions of Sarah Miller, Tess Servopoulos, reader

✒️: ghostly-wisp on Tumblr 

word count: 2616

synopsis: Joel is subject to night terrors — you aren't exactly sure why, they seemed to have come out of nowhere. 

warnings: night terrors, mentions of child death and violence, death overall, Joel is sad :(, angst, brief mentions of suicide, swearing, major character death

Joel Miller has had a very troubled life. 

Even before the cordyceps, life wasn't a walk in the park, but he got by. He managed, mostly for his daughter though. Sarah made him whole; Sarah was his moon and stars. Before cordyceps, everything he did was for her. 

When she died, so did he. Just not physically. 

He couldn't feel that spark of joy anymore, the motivation to get out of bed every morning to work, or like he had anything to go home to. Sarah was gone, so why bother being home before nine? if you could even call the old withering apartment a home. Joel was hollow inside, nothing but a physical being. It's like he wasn't human anymore. There was no Joel Miller without Sarah, now he was just Joel. That's all he was known as at the QZ. 

Joel's entire life at the QZ is working countless hours, getting as many ration cards as he could. He terrified people around him, and for a while, there was a rumor that he was soulless. 

He felt like it, too. That he truly had no soul. That's how he could wake up some mornings and go to work tossing bodies into a fiery pit. Sometimes, people couldn't dare to throw the bodies of children that would come in, and it was left to Joel.

Joel has no real purpose at the QZ, until the day he meets you. 

You both were on a job, working pretty later than most. You said you needed as many ration cards as you could get—you whispered to him that you and one of your friends leave the QZ in an attempt to get any other supplies that weren't left in the quarantine zone. He said he wanted to get as many as possible just so he could leave here someday. 

"Why do you want to leave here?" You ask, "I don't mind it for the most part, there's shelter and some food. More than you'd get out there."

Joel isn’t exactly the most talkative person in the world, he's silent. You assume that he's not going to say anything, after a few minutes you finally hear him mumble something. 

“I need to go look for my brother,” and that seems to be all he wants to share. You decide not to push for any more information on that part, instead you ask him, “Do you have anyone to leave with?”

“No.”

“You should, it's not safe out there alone.”

God damn. He thinks, why do you care so fuckin’ much? “I can handle myself.” You keep to yourself for the rest of the shift – you figured that you’d pissed him off. Understanding why everyone said that Joel was not the kind of person you can just casually be friends with. He's cold, cruel and frankly mean. So, you steered clear of him after your shift, and occasionally when you’d see him in the streets — and you wonder how his search for his brother was going. If he's even officially started it yet. Though you never say anything to him, you never interact. 

Until he initiated it. 

It was during a lunch break, you were sitting at one of the picnic tables, “When are you friend leavin’?” he asks, his accent is thick, you notice that seems thicker than the last time the two of you talked. He had to have been from the south somewhere. “Soon, why?”

“Can I tag along?” he asks, you raise your eyebrows. 

“Why the sudden change of heart?” 

“I uh – I tried goin’ out last week,” he explains, “I had a close call and it’s freaked me out since.” You smile triumphantly, you were right. It feels so good being right. “I’ll have to ask Tess.”

That was quite a while ago, now. You, Joel and Tess would leave the QZ every once and a while in search of supplies, occasionally Joel would search for hints about his brother, he’d even give some hints about him – You found out that his name was Tommy, and younger than Joel. He seemed further than what Joel anticipated. So, the search began for a car battery, among other parts. 

The more time you spent out together, the closer you and Joel got over time, at some point you started sleeping over his apartment. It first happened after one late night trying to plan your next expedition, but you gave into your exhaustion. When you woke up the following morning, you were in his bed beside him. 

“Mornin’” he grumbles, clearly exhausted. You found yourself in the center of his bed, like you had completely taken over. “Did you sleep at all last night?”

He shakes his head, “I don’t sleep well.” he says shortly, “I was reviewing the map all night. I think I have a good path for us.” Though, you couldn’t find yourself to care. You found it sweet that Joel was so concerned with finding his family—but you didn’t want him to be exhausted while you were out there, you needed him to be alert. “Joel,” you whisper, pushing yourself out of bed. “You need to rest; we can show Tess what you found later.” 

“No, I think I finally did it! We need to talk to Tess now.”

“You haven’t slept in hours Joel. Just – please.” His eyes soften, he sets the map down. He thinks, maybe you’re right. “Why are you so worried about me?”

“I want you to be alert, what use are you if you pass out from exhaustion?” you ask him as he crawls into his far too uncomfortable bed. He hums but doesn’t say anymore words. 

You assume he's asleep when you can hear him lightly snoring, he has a slight drool on his pillow as well. He looks so peaceful, not worrying about every little thing and resting. You figured he was a light sleeper, because even the creak of the floorboards gave him a response. So, you reviewed his little notes on the map while he slept. 

He began to stir, shaking, eventually he would scream things still slightly incoherently. Though you could hear mentions of the name Sarah. 

You leapt to your feet and started to shake Joel, begging him to wake up — this was your fault. He protested going to sleep, had you just listened, he wouldn’t be having whatever nightmare he was having. Maybe this is why he doesn’t sleep well. He continues screaming for a little, but something finally wakes him, and he springs up. Glancing around the run-down apartment. When he sees you, his eyes soften once more, and he brings a hand up to cover his face.

“Sorry,” he grumbles. “Happens. Night terrors.”

“Is that why you don’t sleep well?” you ask, you still have your hand on his shoulder, but you move to sit beside him on the bed. He silently nods.

After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, you finally ask, “Whose Sarah?”

His face hardens, you just asked him an extremely sensitive question. You’re afraid you just crossed a line, that he’ll get upset with you. 

“My daughter.” he says coldly. “She was killed, when the outbreak started.” That's all the information he gives, and that's all you’re going to ask for. You move closer to him slowly, loosely hugging the side. 

Joel Miller did not have a purpose. He had no motivation until that day, you became his reasoning. What would he do without you? 

You never quite filled the hole in his heart that Sarah had left, but nobody could fill that hole. For now, he was content, Joel Miller wasn’t as hollow as he once was, not with you around.

He began to enjoy your expeditions more. It wasn’t just two girls and him tagging along. Now it was him, you and his friend, Tess. You started sleeping over more, he found that when the two of you shared a bed and you’d hold him in his sleep, that his episodes happened less. He could get a good night's sleep, the first time in twenty something years. He was happier, he felt almost like how he did all those years ago.

Sarah was his moon and stars, but you were his sun and sky. The post-apocalyptic world wasn’t as bad with you in it.  Finally, they got almost everything they needed for the truck. Tommy would love you. He thought, someone in my life that makes me happy again. 

You, Tess and Joel left the QZ. It was supposed to be the last time — you never would have to turn back, you could tell that place to go fuck itself, it was going to be you, Joel and Tess against the world until you got to Tommy. He hadn’t felt this hopeful, this exhilarated god knows how long. A world previously so cruel lightened just a little bit more. 

Although everything had to come crashing down at some point. Nothing can be upwards for Joel Miller forever. 

You forgot something back in your apartment, which normally you’d leave behind – but this was a prized possession to you, it was a necklace that Joel had found. He gave it to you once you got back to the QZ. Normally you had it on at all times, but you took it off for some unimportant reason. Necklaces were hard to come by, and Joel had given you this one. So, you agreed to sneak back in just to get it, then you could officially leave the Boston QZ forever. It could be a thing of the past and something you could forget about. It wasn’t that far of a turn around.

“I could always find you another one, I’m sure.” Joel tells you as you start seeing the walls of the Boston QZ. You turn to him, “This one is important.” You reply, “It's the first one. If I’m not mistaken, this one was hard to find as well!” 

“Jesus Christ.” Tess tsks, “You’ve made them go soft, Miller.”

“Shut up, Tess.” you chuckle, looking ahead. 

You didn’t know infected would be so close to the wall, and it ran up on you before anyone could notice. Too busy laughing about some necklace. It tackled you a lot faster than you could ever imagine. Joel and Tess had pretty quick reactions, but just not fast enough. It just was able to bite your shoulder. There was no hiding it. 

The infected lays dead beside you, but you don’t make an effort to get up. Joel is the first person to notice the mark it left on you; he becomes shaky. Falling to his knees beside you, whispering your name. Your breath is shaky – and you feel an anxious feeling in your stomach. 

All for some stupid fucking necklace. Tess is quiet, her best friend is being held by their partner, and all she can think about is that this is for some stupid cheesy fucking necklace Joel found in some store. If you never turned back, if you never noticed that you didn’t have it on, you would be on your merry way. 

“We have to go back in.” Joel says, standing up and dragging you to your feet. 

“Joel, I can’t.” you reply, “It would be stupid if you were to bring me back in—don’t do that.” you say, steadying your feet, fixing your shirt a bit. The bite itched, but you didn’t want to scratch it. 

Joel Miller had so many dreams with you, slow dancing in some house the two of you could find to old classical songs or whatever he could find. Getting gray hairs together or dancing in some kitchen. Tommy meeting you and everything starts to feel almost like it was all of those years ago. He loses it all in a second. Over a necklace? No way. What is he supposed to do without you? Everything only felt possible with you there. He thinks of Sarah, that she was taken away from him in a matter of seconds, a flash – and now you too? Why can’t he catch a break? What did he do to deserve such misery? Such cruelty? 

Joel shakes his head. “No, I’m getting you that necklace, god damn it.”

“Joel.” Your tone is soft, your eyes are watery. You’re blinking back whatever years you had. 

He finally looks at you, your face, your eyes. He's suddenly so aware of your hands holding on to his arm. Begging him not to go. Joel's face doesn’t change, but his heart breaks. He feels it shatter all over again, the wholeness in his heart is gone and you’re not even dead yet. 

“Please,” he begs. “Let me get it. I want you to have it.”

“It’s not going to do me much justice, if I’m dead you know.” He retaliates your grip, his eyes turn watery now, like it's all just hit him. 

“I can go get it.” Tess offers, “You two can stay here and have whatever moment you need to have. We have to go soon.” 

She's right, and you both know it. Soon it’ll be day, and someone will surely spot you if you stand out here much longer. 

“Joel, I can’t turn into one of them.” you whisper, all he can think about is the life he had dreamed. If he had only met you before anything. Maybe if he had been more alert he could’ve seen that son-of-a-bitch coming. You’re going to die because he couldn’t protect you. His reaction time wasn’t fast enough to protect the person he loves. “Sweetheart,” he replies. “You can’t be askin…”

“Please, Joel.” You want him to kill you? Is this some sick fucking joke? “I can’t.” he says, it feels cold, but you know now that that's just his defense mechanism. “You have to, I can’t do it to myself.” His entire being is filled with some mixed feeling of sadness, fear and anger. “How do you expect me to do this, huh?”

Tess feels like she's intruding, like she should walk away. But she can’t, God forbid something happens as well. Joel hopes something runs up on him, too, kills him and spares him from this hell. He wouldn’t have to kill you; you could be infected together or maybe Tess could take both of you out. Spare the misery. You’re the love of his life, and he has to kill you?

And so, he does it. It takes a lot of tears, a lot of shaking. But it's what you wanted. You didn't want to be one of them, and he can’t really blame you for that.

Your last words to him haunts him, I love you until my dying breath, Joel Miller. He finds some comfort in the idea that maybe he’ll see you on the other side, but he loses faith in that with each passing hour, day, whatever. Tess has to be the one to drag him away from you, he's distraught. 

Him and Tess go back to the QZ together. He simply wouldn’t be able to make it through all the miles they’d need to walk in order to get to their destination. They don’t leave again for months. 

Joel's night terrors return, worse than ever. They’re not just about Sarah anymore. Tess started helping him out, just as you would. It calms him, but he doesn't quite feel as content as he did when it was your arms holding him every morning. 

The necklace stays on him at all times, he keeps it on. His last piece of you. Joel is just a shell of who he once was, and Tess doesn’t think she’ll ever see Joel Miller again. 

#joel miller #pedro pascal #no pronouns #gender neutral insert #x reader #joel miller x you #the last of us #joel miller x reader #gender neutral #no use of y/n #angst #joel miller angst #the last of us show #joel miller x gender neutral reader #reader insert