#woodworker joel miller | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tremendum · 8 months

Text

Mr. Miller's Show

[not my gif] pairing: joel miller x fem!reader (afab, some use of she/her, use of the words girl/woman) rating: explicit. (18+. mdni.) word count: 7.3k (back to regularly scheduled programming) requested: yes thank you all for all the patience srsly <3 summary: “'like how sweet you've been t'me, sugar," he mutters gently, head tilting, "why y'gonna go and fuck all that up now?'" warnings: gendered words (girl, woman, etc) allusions to PTSD, porn with feelings, guys theyre like getting healthier, SMUT (PiV unprotected), oral (M receiving), deepthroating, rough sex, face-fucking, shower smut, counter smut, reader is a tease, masturbation (f), marijuana use as always lol, brief voyeurism, canon-typical violence, age gap (undefined but mentioned), ass play (spitting, fingering, only a bit sorryyyy), mirror sex again bc im a whore, reader has hair long enough to grab, hair pulling, lots of choking, spit kink, light slapping (f receiving, consensual), dirty talk, praise kink but also degradation, use of words like slut, brat tamer!joel, overstimulation, MEAN!JOEL YALL, but he has feelings so he’s also kinda soft!dom in this again, once again sooo unedited that it hurts. notes: finally finally after over a month im back!! hope you enjoy this chapter, ive been having rough writers block with this story so any suggestions and requests are very welcomed!!! thanks for all the love and as always, comments & reblogs w tags are motivation and help out so much!!! love u all <3 also for the taglist, it's too big now and i may consider stopping my taglist, just letting everyone know!!! ill lyk if i do ofc but im reblogging with the list this time.

[this is part six of the Mr Miller series. read previous part sympathy for the devil. main masterlist here. ]

★

"you're wearing earrings."

Joel's voice cuts through the serene chill in the air, shocking you enough to have your head turning away from where you stare ahead - you crane your neck too much, but you can just see the dusted gray and dark of his curls behind you as your brows raise.

it takes you a second to understand the sentence he's just uttered to you out of nowhere- but you blink to life, clearing your throat as the dead trees pass you by.

"oh. yeah, it's... they're new. didn't really wear stuff like that until..." you shrug, trailing off as you stare forward yet again. your heart thumps as his chest rumbles against your back - jesus, he's so close to you. it's been weeks since he's been this close, even if this is just work.

your body wants what it wants, you suppose.

your lips purse, lost in the press of his thick body behind you.

"-till?"

your lip twitches in a smile for a split moment; he's waiting for you to finish your sentence. as if he cares.

Joel...

he's been so normal recently. or as normal as you could ever imagine Joel Miller to be; full sentence-conversations full of questions, full sentences, and even an occasional joke or dry line littered in with his glares and eye-rolls. he's even taught you and ellie to woodwork, nodded in hello when you picked up Ellie on your way into town - hell, he'd actually gotten a drink with you after patrol a few days ago and held eye contact for a whole thirty minutes.

a fucking miracle.

and even, on rare occasions, you are rewarded with that mind-splitting, earth-shattering smile - a very rare but rewarding sight. the kind that shocks a room, silences you and Ellie both, lights the sun and makes the birds sing. makes your stomach flutter.

so perhaps things have changed.

it makes you almost laugh to yourself, recalling that day so many moons ago when you had walked into the Bison and first stared into those stony eyes; how big his calloused hands were, the way his lip lifted in distaste at your crass words.

the sway of the horse makes your hips move gently; your ass is starting to feel sore at the constant motion and as you rock forward with the decline of the hill, you feel Joel's body slide slightly as though he tries against everything to press fully against you. even though you wish he would.

heat paints your face as you feel his breath on your neck, waiting patiently for you to finish your sentence.

your sharp breath exhales as you realize you've hesitated at his questioning, a bit too long - you smile sheepishly, shrugging. "-sorry, didn't..." you clear your throat, "couldn't remember the last time I wore earrings. not that it matters, but I just..." you thumb the makeshift earring back, grinning to the mane of the horse as he trudges you and Joel both along.

"-it feels nice. makes me feel like myself." you finish, shrugging awkwardly.

for all of the steps Joel has taken in the last few weeks to change, there are some things you still have a hard time with.

talking about yourselves and opening up is a very large, unmovable hurdle that you and him are still clearly trying to pull yourselves over. it's quiet for a second as your words seep into the dead surroundings, less than an hour from town.

"look nice." he grunts quietly, his arms pressing slightly from where he straddles the saddle behind your frame.

your eyes widen at the seemingly random compliment, face flooding with flattery and embarrassment. your grin betrays you, but you don't dare stutter out a broken thank you for fear that you will sound like a croaking frog; instead, you purse your lips over the giddy grin that spreads over your cheeks and hope that as he stares at the profile of your face, he can see the flattery written across your features.

"Ellie has a matching pair." you say instead, sparing a quick glance back at Joel. his brows raise, jaw ticking as he takes in the information - your voices both echo at the same time as you speak over each other suddenly:

"she doesn't have her ears pierced." "in case she ever gets them pierced."

you let out a short huff of laughter, nodding sheepishly at having accidentally interrupted each other; Joel shakes his head with a ghost of a smile.

"got it." he nods, "s'real nice of you." he nods, "making a pair for her, too."

his chest is right on you - broad, warm through all the layers, and smelling of pine, whiskey, sage. amber. it's intoxicating as his drawl rumbles in the back of your ear - you silently thank Tommy or whoever the hell it was who ordered half the horses to rest after a bout of sickness spread through the stable; sharing a horse has never once before today seemed like a good idea.

but the good idea sours quickly when you kick speed slightly, the horse leaping over a small creek as your hips shift back into Joel's and your ass presses into him.

your mouth dries as you shakily exhale; he's so close to you - smells so good. your hands grip the reigns tighter and you nearly jump when a large, calloused hand falls onto your hips to steady you after the change in pace.

your mind travels back to that morning after you'd stayed with Joel in his own bed - how gentle his hands had been as he'd guided you towards your own house under the early morning sunrise; your eyes bleary with sleep but his smile still cracking bashfully when you'd kissed his cheek, muttering about how maybe Ellie'd missed your boots by the front door when she'd come home.

she and Joel certainly haven't said anything you if she did notice, anyways.

you clear your throat, ignoring the searing desire that spirals from where his hand touches your clothed hip; you shrug, "she said she liked mine, so I figured we could match."

he hums lowly at your word, his nose brushing slightly over the crown of your head. shivers roll over your shoulders as you swallow, retreating into the silence that you've lived in for the last few weeks since the two of you were put back on patrol.

but you stiffen when a hand runs down your side, over the jagged stitching of your jacket, and you suck in a sharp inhale. his other hand slides forward, hooking gently around your hip, fingers splaying over the very top of your thigh and your throat dries up; a faint desire awakened and soon screaming at you. you squirm under his touch.

Joel's hips adjust behind you gently in the next second, your eyes fluttering shut as you imagine him pulling you into him, his hard cock sliding between the round globes of your ass and through your dripping folds, his hands greedy and hungry; his words sharp, teasing. his touch, sweet. intoxicating-

your eyes open again and your heart skips a beat, his knees hitting the outside of your thighs.

christ. your whole body tingles as you shift slightly, rotating your hips as the buck of the horse's cant tilts you further away from the heat of his broad chest. no, you can't stand his teasing - intentional or not, Joel is making you nearly melt in desire.

jesus.

you're barely pulling the horse to the side of the path when, with barely a crane of his neck, Joel mutters, "the hell are y'doin?"

you suddenly pull the reins and mutter woah, slipping yourself off of the horse and onto the hard ground with a burning face, your lungs screaming for air as Joel protests.

"what-" he grunts as he pulls himself down from the stirrups, face etched with irritation and concern at your sudden evacuation, "is there an issue?"

you can hear the irritation in his voice and you sigh, shaking your head - your heart's thundering, face hot and surely laced with poorly-hid embarrassment. god, what the fuck is wrong with you? there's barely forty minutes back to Jackson, why couldn't you just suck it up for a few more torturous minutes until you could return home to your trusty drawer and hot shower?

"no." you snap, "no problem, Joel." your heart is thundering with surprise at his concern, eyes glaring daggers at him before shooting down towards the heat that nearly blisters on your forearm; his hand, warm and gentle, asking silently if you're okay. your eyes soften before you can school your expression - he reads you, as always, like his favorite novel.

his hand falls away gently, grazing your finger tips like the gentlest breeze on your face and it still surprises you.

"alright," he says softly, eyes searching your flustered appearance. "can we get back on the horse, then?" he asks - his voice is surprisingly patient, though his eyes are wary. irritated, but concerned.

you clear your throat, unable to contain yourself much longer. "we could- take a break."

his brows raise, tilting his head, "a break? we're nearly back. s'almost nightfall."

you shift your weight, avoiding the way his corded arms cross over each other, his frame towering over yours as you dully throb in arousal.

"you're-" you squeak, shaking your head, "you're fucking crowding me, and I need- fuck-" you groan, "just- just fuck off for a second, Joel." you snap, bursting in frustration, unsure how to just admit you are being driven fucking crazy with lust by his presence.

his head tilts, "fuck off?" his eyes are darker every second you stand, facing each other- "the hell's gotten into you?" he sounds offended, and your heart flips as you feel bad - you're trying, you're trying so hard to be normal around him, as he is with you - so one touch, one innocent adjustment of his hips and now you're freaking out on him again?

you need to get a grip, or at least be honest.

your face burns as his stern gaze rolls over each curve of your body; "Joel, you're driving me fucking crazy." you snap, glaring at him.

he looks shocked, hands flying out, "I barely said anythin' this whole goddamn day, how the hell am I still fucking this up?" he snaps back, irritated - his eyes incredulous as he stares down at you.

flames lick up your sides as you grind your teeth - his hair looks much more wavy with his curls today, and the green of his jacket it making the golden on his skin nearly glow; you nearly growl as you jump towards him. he's too much. too fucking much.

your hands lock on his shoulders, tugging yourself up towards his face as your lips fall against his.

the kiss is a shock to you both.

you're not sure what really compelled you to do it - the stubble over his sharp jaw, his hair, the way his thighs pressed against the outsides of yours just minutes ago, the way he pressed on about the earrings - whatever, it doesn't matter, because he's kissing you back and you're melting like butter over a campfire.

his lips press hard back against yours through his shocked inhale, surging against you in a dizzying haze of Joel.

but the kiss is seared away from your lips when Joel suddenly shoots his thick hand out, rising to grip hard at your throat, shoving you backwards.

it's more shocking than the sudden kiss - the speed in which he pulls back and pushes you hard backwards by his warm grip, causing flutters of arousal to course through your stomach.

you stumble in shock but he keeps his hold on you, passionate as he movers the two of you back. you're torn away from his warmth as he presses you with one hand on the small of your back and the other on the beating pulse of your throat - right against a tree, nudging you as he tilts his head down to your height once more.

he's back on you in no less than a split second; his heat swirling around the cold air, teeth nipping at your lip when you take a moment longer than he'd like to open your lips to his tongue. he groans against you, a warm and deep thing that you feel in your own chest as your hand slides up to his hair, tugging at the base of his neck.

the fingers around your throat flex and tighten in reaction to your own grip and the moan that rips from your throat sends his hips in a slow thrust against yours.

you've been desperate for his touch for fucking days - he's been walking on eggshells even after you'd spent the night with him a few weeks ago. he'd barely touched you, taking his time trying to make up for all the lost time you'd spent trying to rip each other's heads off instead of your clothes.

and sure, you don't know who you are with him still - nothing defined, and a lot of things still unspoken - but for the first time since this whole mess started, that doesn't bother you. there's not much anger, nor jealousy - just... Joel. and you.

it's not bad.

his lips leave yours as he breathes against your lips, "like how sweet you've been t'me, sugar," he mutters gently, head tilting, "why y'gonna go and fuck all that up now?"

his hand slips from your back lower, tugging you against his semi-hard cock as his fingers squeeze your ass. his hand lies just below your jugular, thumb soothing over your cold skin as his dark eyes glint with desire. you feel a rush of arousal pool between your legs as you raise your brows.

"-you need to stop fucking touching me like that when we're riding, Miller." you growl against his lips, staring back at him. you lean slightly to catch his lips with yours once again but he pulls back with a strong hand against your neck to stop you - teasing.

he tuts, "you need to learn how to use your words, sweetheart." he growls against you, teeth catching on your bottom lip.

you whimper at the sharp sting, chasing him as if you could steal a kiss. he tilts his head just out of reach, his hand pressing against you until your breath comes out slightly ragged; your pussy flutters as he squeezes, knee sliding against your clothed core.

"if you want it, ask for it, baby." he all but demands, hands rough against you, "can't just throw a fit every time you're aching for my cock, or else you'll be whinin' all goddamn day. how am I supposed to know-"

but there's a snap of a twig somewhere behind you and you both spring apart, straight as boards, hackles raised.

it's almost like deja-vu as you're both thrown from your stupor - ripping away, your voices cease as your hand flies to your hunting knife - in your peripheral, you see that Joel's slung around his rifle so quick you're almost impressed as you both stare to your left.

christ - just the fucking horse, tied to the tree. stepped on a twig.

you let out a shaky breath, hand falling onto Joel's chest as you almost wheeze out a relieved laugh. but your hand feels it, suddenly - you notice how stiff Joel is, even after you've both realized there's no threats.

his heart, thundering in his chest wildly. like a caged animal surrounded by a pack of wild, ravenous wolves; Joel's heart tries to scramble right out of his chest and onto the dead ground.

that feeling - the one that creeps around at night when you wake up with memories of that cabin, of those raiders - of your past, visions of Joel, surrounded by red. that feeling that creeps up, squeezing at your throat and banging on your chest.

he's feeling it, too.

it's not from arousal, though you can see enough of that in his eyes, in the way his lips part and ragged breaths puff into the air - no, not arousal.

fear.

your heart hammers similarly, you suddenly notice. your hand shakes as it hovers near your knife; his hands grip the rifle so tight the blood may burst forth from the roughened skin any second.

"hey," you whisper, suddenly worried to speak above any quiet noise. his eyes are sharp and his jaw clenched as he looks back at you, wild and alarmed.

as if he were ready to fight for his life and yours.

"let's go home," you whisper, thumb running over the shoulder of his jacket, muscles strained and still below the layers.

he snaps out of it, eyes falling to rake over you as if assuring that you're still in front of him in one piece. his hand finds yours on his chest, sliding it off - not unkindly; his hand squeezes yours before boosting you up onto the double saddle silently.

Joel insists on walking you back to your house; he's brooding, as normal, as you both trudge back from turning in your patrol log and tracking the mud from the stable through the quiet streets.

you don't speak about what happened in the woods - the kiss, nor the twig snapping, but you ache and as you walk, every brush of the backs of your hands send shooting sparks up your arm.

"damn it," he grunts under his breath as you lead him up your driveway. you lift a brow at him, silent prompt to explain his expletive.

he shakes his head, "s'nothin'. forgot Ellie said the water heater ain't workin', said she was stayin' with her friend Dina till I fix it. cold shower for me tonight."

you grimace; the air nips at your cheeks, you can't imagine a cold shower in this weather. you shrug, "use mine." you suggest, tilting your head. "no point in turning into an icicle, Miller, you're cold enough as is." you tease, sending him a small wink.

something in you wonders if the shower really is broken, or if he just can't bring himself to ask; not that you can blame him. you can't bring yourself to ask, either.

your heart flutters when Joel rolls his eyes but still trudges after you, through the entrance of your home. his eyes look just as tired as you feel but there's a spark to them, one that coaxes more warmth between your thighs.

you see his eyes catch on the partially-smoked joint put out on the ashtray on your kitchen table as you slide past it; you have a mind to grab it before you make your way up the stairs, pretending not to feel too hot when you feel Joel's eyes graze over the sway of your hips.

he showers first, you insist.

while he does so, you strip out of your clothes and into a more comfortable sleeping shirt and shorts. you sit, smoking lazily on the joint, savoring the sharp herbal taste as it flows into your blood and trying to ignore the throbbing desire when the sound of the shower shuts off.

Joel's respectful when he leaves your bathroom, pants on and shirt tugged over his chest, speckled with dots of moisture. his hair is much darker and more curled just after a shower; you're transfixed as you stand in front of him, joint smoldering between your lips, an exhale of smoke swirling lazily from your nostrils.

"may I?" he asks suddenly, causing you to nod, pulling the joint out from your lips and noting how his own dark eyes follow it like a horse to a carrot; you smirk, tutting. "and to think, all this time you've been judging me for it?" you shake your head. "shame on you."

his jaw ticks and you just smirk, shaking your head as you hold the joint up to his lips boldly. "you're a bad influence on me, aren't you, Mr. Miller?" you ask, voice sultry as you peer up at him through your lashes. his eyes flick to yours as he inhales, your fingers ghosting over his plush lips. the ones you kissed not an hour earlier.

the air is thick in your room, steam from the hot water creeping through as Joel inhales the weed, ember lighting up your eyes in his. you leave the joint between his parted lips, opting to strip down as you walk towards the shower, hoping Joel had the mind to watch as you go.

your heart thuds in arousal and excitement when you hear his sharp exhale, still refusing to turn around as you leave the door slightly open once again. you and your innocent habit of leaving the bathroom door open when you shower.

you're relieved there's some fog over the glass door of the shower, but you take your time cleansing your hair, running soap over your face and then slowly, slowly lathering up your skin.

you can feel him watch the entire time.

his eyes are like a hawk's; you can see his shadow through the light of the bathroom, the ember of your joint glowing occasionally as your hands run over the wet planes of your skin.

your shaky fingers cascade down, over the skin of your stomach, lower until they just barely graze where you ache. it's like he's been waiting for you to finally start to touch yourself; just as your fingers find your slit, the amber of the joint is tamped, ashed on the windowsill.

you hum lowly as your fingers swirl through your velvet folds, so wet you're dripping onto your upper thighs as your head thumps against the wall.

"Joel," you let yourself whimper, eyes fluttering shut before opening again languidly.

Joel's footsteps are gentle as he slowly strides up to you; he lasted, admittedly, longer than you through this torturous game. through the glass, you see his tall frame and your legs quiver with desire - your aching cunt throbs as you move your hand over yourself, rinsing off the rest of the suds from your clean body as your fingers tease your bundle of nerves. your hips jolt; a choked moan from you as you slide the glass open slightly, cocking your head - "it's a shame you already showered," you mutter, fingers not ceasing as Joel's eyes rake over your naked for ravenously.

he leans on the doorframe to the bathroom, eyes stern as he takes in your silhouette through the fogged glass, slowly rolling over the curves of your body to meet your eyes with flames alit in his own.

"-it'd be nice to have some help." you shrug, gesturing to the bar of soap in your spare hand, eyes swimming with desire as your other hand continues the slow, torturous movements on your aching clit.

your eyes catch on his crotch; through the jeans, his cock is hard and straining already as if being stirred by just the sight of you, naked and whimpering for him in your shower.

"I know you've always liked a show, though, haven't you?" you tease, lifting a brow as you recall the night Joel'd first seen you shower.

his jaw ticks at your words but it's like something in his snaps; he wastes little time ripping his shirt off, his patience clearly gone as you bite your lip, stepping back for him as his jeans finally slide off.

his glowing, naked form crowds into your own as he slides into the shower with you. his eyes are sharp as his hand takes the soap from you; yet instead of running it over your skin like you'd hoped he would, he's tossing it to the side until it hits the wall of the shower and splinters into two.

you gasp slightly as his hand grips your neck, tugging you close. his cock is hard, tip glistening with beads of precum already as he presses to your lower stomach, his body glued to yours; his nose slides along the plane of your collarbone gently, the shower water pelting rolling off your meshed bodies like some sort of sick baptism.

"you smell clean, darlin'," he mutters against your kin, one hand sliding up to your scalp, threading through your hair. his tongue peeks out to lick a stripe up your throat. "taste clean, too-"

his hand tightens suddenly, tugging your hair until your head snaps up to him - his eyes are dark, face full of desire. "so why're you pretending you need my help?"

the condescension in his voice is intoxicating - your legs weaken, hands sliding up onto his hot skin under the water that cascades over him.

your throat dries as you swallow, eyes wide as a rush of arousal threatens to drip down onto your bare thighs.

his head tilts, "s'because you want to put on a show, 's that it?" he asks, voice condescendingly sweet as he once again tightens his grip. you whimper at the sweet feeling, nodding slightly.

he smiles against your neck before pulling away, "fine. you can give me a show. get on your knees." he hums, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. your head feels dizzy at the words he says and the sweetness of his kiss; the most delicious juxtaposition.

"a show." he chuckles to himself, shaking his head darkly. "gonna make you a goddamn star."

christ. your cunt squeezes around nothing, aching for him as his hands slide down to your shoulders. you nearly moan as he smirks, water cascading down his broad chest as he pushes you down; you sink to your knees, your wide eyes on his own as you move until you're close to his aching cock.

he stands, towering above you as the shower head sprays directly onto his back; water runs off the broad expanse of his chest and you follow the droplets as they smooth over his stomach, down over the sprinkling of hair that trails to the base of his dick. you swallow, heart thundering impatiently as you sit on your haunches, waiting anxiously for him to tell you what to do.

his brows raise, though, flush high on his cheeks from heat - or arousal - as he hums, "well?"

you blink at him in surprise as he shakes his head down at you, his own hand falling to pump his long cock in languid strokes, the skin so close to you that you can almost feel the heat. if you were to lean out, just a bit, to taste-

"christ, darlin' do I gotta tell you how to do everything?" he grunts, other hand cupping the back of your head, carding through your wet strands of hair as he tuts, "you were practically beggin' f'me earlier, now you're suddenly shy?"

your face blooms in heat, "no, sir, I just-" at your words, his eyes fall back and a groan echoes through your bathroom, "-just suck my cock, darlin' c'mon."

his impatience, desperation sends shivers down your spine and your mouth opens eagerly, tongue flattening as he slaps your tongue gently once, twice-

you're always surprised by the size of Joel - each time, it catches you off guard; the head of his cock breaches your lips and his pre-cum smears over your tongue; the taste of him has you keening forward, eager to feel him in you, filling you up.

"there you go, 's much better." he grunts, muttering as one hand slides around to hold your jaw. your eyes flutter up through your lashes and the falling shower water to stare at him, how big he is towering above you. his cock pushes into your warm mouth and you try your best to breathe through your nose, tongue sliding up the vein which reaches up towards his tip. his groan spurs you on and you gently start to bob your head, spit gathering at the sides of your mouth slowly as your knees press against the wet porcelain.

"you feel better like this, baby?" he mutters, your stomach tingling at his words. you can't nod - can't even make a noise as his hips slowly buck into you; you gag slightly and moan around his cock as it pushes to the back of your throat.

"fuck-" he grunts, one hand leaning forward to place against the wet shower tiles; he's crowding you, now, pressing you into the back of the shower as his body takes the brunt of the water and takes and takes from you.

anything Joel wants, he can fucking have it.

"that's it, sweetheart-" he grunts, "fuckin'- take me."

his hands grip yours, pulling them onto his thighs, muttering gently that if it's too much, you can slap his thigh; you nod, tears gathering at the corner of your eyes as you keen towards him again, hungry to feel him in your throat again.

your nails dig crescents into the meat of his thighs as he pushes your head right against the wall, fucking into your throat as his head tilts back. "tha's- right, look at you." he grunts, his lips parted as groans fall from his lip. the steam rises like tendrils from hell as you take Joel's length in your mouth, barely able to breathe in the most delicious way as he uses you. your spit trails over your chin and onto your bare chest as you stare up at him. one hand soothes over your forehead, wiping wet strands of hair plastered to your forehead, "you're a fuckin' star, baby."

you heat at his words, stomach swirling as you shift uncomfortably, cunt puffy and aching for relief.

your fingers grip onto him as he takes you in the shower, fucking your throat until you're dripping and aching and a writhing mess, his moans echoing around the empty home.

"water's cold." he grunts, pulling his cock from your lips; you, weakly, chase the heat of him as he leaves your mouth, gasping for air and coughing slightly.

he shuts off the water, suddenly, and you swallow as he turns back to you, eyes significantly softer than they'd just been; "somethin' wrong?" he teases, a dark smirk on his face as his eyes flicker to where your thighs press together to soothe the ache.

you grit your teeth, shaking your head, "jus' want you to touch me, sir." you mutter, face burning at the way Joel never ceases to reduce you to a whimpering mess.

he smiles one of those brilliant, radiant smiles.

"that's all you had to say, darlin'." he shrugs, "told you, if you just learn to ask for it nicely, I'll give it to you."

you shiver as you nod, taking his hand as he pulls you up off your sore knees, wrapping a towel around your form gently. he's so- commanding, yet still somehow keeping his kindness that often hides deep beneath his layers.

you can't tear your eyes away, though - even as Joel starts to walk towards your open bedroom - your hand stops him on his naked shoulder. "will you please fuck me?" you ask, voice stronger than you'd expected it to be.

his eyes flicker with something as he tilts his head, "right here?" he lifts a brow as his hand snaked over your neck to pull you flush against him once again. "y'gonna beg me to fuck you against the sink because you're too desperate for my cock to walk to the bed?" he whispers it into the shell of your ear; a shiver as you whine, eyes blinking up at him, "been waiting all day, Joel, stop fucking teasing me."

you notice your mistake too late; his jaw tenses as he bites down at the junction of your neck - you let out a sharp, whining moan as his teeth mark a love bite bright and center on your skin. "fuck- fuck, s-sorry, sir." you groan, eyes clenching shut in pleasure as his hands push you into the counter.

"bet you're fuckin' sorry." he mutters lowly as he pulls away from you, flipping you quick to bend you over the vanity of the sink. you gasp as the cool wet porcelain hits your breasts, your nipples hard and sensitive as a sharp smack lands on your ass.

"christ," he groans as you bend over, puffy lips soaked and glistening for him, "look at this pretty pussy."

you move your hips slightly and his hands grip onto your waist - "quit that." he snaps, hands resuming their exploring. he grazes over the backs of your thighs, up the expanse of your spine.

over your ass, groping and slapping, relishing in your small moans and sharp gasps. "don't move." he orders.

you sigh, head falling onto the sink as you nearly whimper - you're aching, throbbing as Joel teases you - "Joel," you whimper quietly, voice whiny and small.

"what's wrong, y'tired of being teased?" he asks, voice dripping with sadistic pleasure. your cheeks are hot as you groan, "please, need to feel you inside of me-"

he hums, smacking the flesh of your ass, "'f I don't warm you up you'll be sore, baby-" he tuts, "y'know I gotta get you ready."

"I don't care, I can take it- I like it, just-" you stutter, face heated as you nearly scream in frustration, unable to voice how badly you just want him inside of you.

he likes that - a thumb sliding over your cunt to spread your lips, exposing your pussy and ass to him as he hums. "too fuckin' eager, have to have my cock right now, 's that right?" he shakes his head with a dark smirk, hand teasing over your swollen lips as he nods, "yeah, s'alright, I'll give it to you whenever you ask."

"thank you," you wheeze, letting out a shaky sigh when Joel leans down, spitting directly onto your asshole, thumb sliding over the tight ring as he hums, "so desperate for me, couldn't even wait 'till we get back to town, could you? had to try an' fuck me right there in the woods." he doesn't wait for you to respond as he spits down again, this time the slick spit sliding down onto your seeping cunt. his hand leaves, replacing with the thick, teasing head of his cock.

you gasp, rising on your toes as the blunt tip of his dick spreads your cunt, teasing your clit before notching at your entrance. "gonna fill up every hole tonight, baby, y'gonna let me?"

you let out a whine, "fuck, yes, please." you nod, cunt fluttering around the tip of his cock.

the stretch is painful; you expected it, craved it - you let out an animalistic moan when he slides in a few inches. "oh-" you whimper, legs tensing as Joel kneads the flesh of your ass, pressing his bare chest to your spine as he mouths along the base of your neck, "relax, baby, so fuckin' tight-" he groans as he slides in slowly, "let me in, sweetheart, c'mon-"

a rush of arousal and he's fully seated within you, the sting of his cock in you subsiding as a growing desire mounts until you can't take it. "move- m-move, now, please." you rush, hips pushing back against Joel's impatiently.

"shit," Joel hisses as he pulls out of you slightly - a long, thick drag against your velvety cunt and you groan at the sweet bliss of being filled up. you moan as he thrusts forward, tip hitting the perfect spot that already, as his pace builds, has a simmering coil deep within you.

"thought- thought about it all day," you admit, hands finding purchase on the counter as he starts to fuck into you, your tits sliding as they press against the sink. "on the horse, thought abo-" you moan sharply as his thumb grazes over your asshole, spreading the slick and his spit around the tight ring. "fuck, sir- that feels good." you moan. he groans in response and the words fly from your lips - "you drive me crazy, so big, t-touching me all the time. dream about you filling me up- s-stuffing me full, even out in the woods-"

your words are too much for Joel, apparently, because his hand slaps over your mouth and his voice whispers, "sh-shut the fuck up, darlin', y'needa be quiet or I'm gonna finish before this even starts." he grunts, hips snapping into yours as he picks up the pace.

you whimper at his words, arousal gushing from you and coating his cock in your slick; the wet slapping of your bodies echoing through the bathroom. "fuck-" he drags out the word, fingers sliding over your lips to prod at your mouth, "here- suck, darlin' - there you go, good girl, that's right."

your tongue slides over his fingers, eyes fluttering closed as you feel his thumb breach your tight hole; a sudden rush of pleasure runs through you as it hits you - Joel's everywhere. he's filling you completely - his thumb slowly fucks your tight ring of muscle as his cock spears your cunt; his fingers, pressing down on your tongue as you whimper and moan around him.

a groan leaves his full lips; "fuck- look at me." he grunts, hand sliding up your throat to pull your jaw towards your reflection. "look at me, baby-" his fingers slide back into your mouth as your eyes meet the fire in his through the mirror.

"always tell me when you feel like this, 'kay?" he asks, brows stern as he rams his hips into you; his thumb fills you and fucks into you at a slower speed than his cock, sending searing pleasure through your entire body.

your flesh moves at the impact of his hips and you cry out as his cock hits the delicious spot inside you that curls your toes. his thumb slips from your ass and you whimper dejectedly; the full feeling subsiding slightly as his hand grips your tits, pinching your nipple as he hums in your ear. "don't want my pretty little slut feeling so needy all the time, right?" he mutters, nosing at your hair as he fucks into you with no abandon. your fingers clench to the sides of the sink as you let out a strangled, "yes, sir-"

"so if you use your words, I'll give you anything you want." he groans, hand smacking your ass as the other squeezes your jaw. you nod, agreeing with his words though his cock has rendered you nearly speechless. he hums in approval before muttering, "now you're goign to play with your clit until you cum."

you let your eyes roll back at the commanding tone as your hand snakes down to rub tight, blisteringly pleasurable circles over your bundle of nerves.

but it's immediately too much so soon; you're already so close to your orgasm that a jagged gasp falls from your lips, jumping at the feeling.

"no, 's too much," you moan, head falling back as your finger teases your clit, flames of pleasure licking up isnide you.

but Joel smirks, "why're you still doin' it, then?" he teases, cock hitting so deep and bruising that you think you may see stars.

you moan out, "w-wanna cum, wanna make you happy, Joel." you whimper, completely forgetting to call him sir; but you feel his brows furrow as a moan ripples from his lips - "y'makin' me real happy right now, darlin', look at you. fucked out on this old man's cock, doin' whatever I say, desperate and willing. you're perfect, aren't you?"

you shiver in pleasure at his praise, fingers shaking as you rub your clit, trying so hard not to ruin your orgasm by cumming too soon. his cock spears into you at a pace that will certainly bruise your hips; your breath is punched out of you, your gasps and moans painting the air.

"say it, baby." he orders, hand stroking your breast a staunch contradiction to his brutal pace. "tell me how perfect you are for me."

you wail, head falling back onto his broad, thick shoulder as he runs his mouth over your shoulder, nipping as he goes. you're out of breath - "p-perfect, I'm perfect for you Joel, fuck, don't stop. so good, so good-" you mumble, fucked out after only a few minutes.

he hums, nodding into you. "taught you well, didn't I? you're my perfect little star."

you nod, "yes, sir, thank you-" you squeal in pleasure as he strokes long and slow, pushing you nearly to the brink as your legs shake. you can't take it, though - your fingers stop their ministrations, shaking and burning as you pull away from your clit, so close from just his cock and-

a slap to your cheek as Joel's lips bite into your jaw, "put your fuckin' hand back right now. you don't stop 'till I tell you to."

you swallow shakily, shaking your head, "I can't- it's too much, I can't-"

"fine." he snaps, slapping your cheek again before one hand slips to grip hard at your shoulder, lifting one of your legs up onto the sink; his other hand snakes down to pinch your tortured clit and you scream as he grunts in your ear, "I'll do it myself."

he's unforgiving on your quivering cunt, barely able to stay upright as he pushes you down, your cheeks pressing to the cool counter as he pounds down into you, shooting you into a hurtling race towards your orgasm.

he brutally fucks into you in a blinding pace. you nearly scream as white-hot pleasure rips through you, your hands falling to the counter as he coaxes a mind-bending orgasm from you. you see white as you cum, pulsing and writhing over his cock as it spears into you, splitting you open.

"that's it, baby-" he lets out a loud moan, biting into your neck as he continues the brutal pace, "jesus- s'fucking tight, baby, can barely move-" his hands fall to your hips, using you as a fuck toy to finish himself off; you're still writhing with the ecstasy of the orgasm, relishing in the way his hands hold you.

"where're you gonna take me, baby?" he grunts, voice strained: he's so close.

you scramble, holding his hips as you nearly pass out - pleasure too much. "cum on my ass, please sir." you mutter, heat licking up your throat as the words come out.

he moans and pulls out of you suddenly, hand flying from your skin to his cock, a slick noise as he quickly tugs himself until hot spurts of his cum paint the skin of your ass. "pretty girl," he grunts to himself, "an' you're all mine."

you hum, moaning quietly as his thumb soothes over your skin, spreading his cum over your ass and pressing it slightly against your ass. your cunt flutters in arousal at the action and he hums, "y'like that, don't you, pretty girl?"

you nod as you let out a shaky sigh and he presses a kiss to your spine, "good." it's a whisper on your skin, a promise.

he's barely grabbed a towel to wipe his cum off your skin before you're turned around on jelly legs - his strong arms pull you in so fast you barely have a second to straighten out - he's nuzzling into your wet hair in a way that has your heart thumping and your throat dry.

his heart beats against your cheek, body warm, chest heaving along with yours.

heat, affection - they swirl in your chest as his bare body cradles yours. intimately.

your sweet skin is sticky with sweat when Joel comes to, out of the bliss of his and your orgasms.

he's just as sweaty as you, though the clean skin and foggy mirror have started to clear up. Joel nearly huffs a short laugh at the thought of taking yet another shower - christ knows the two of you are once again filthy - but he kind of likes it, in a way. a secret.

he brushes it off when he feels your fingers curl around his arm; he had barely noticed that he'd tugged you upright and right into his chest, holding you as tight as he could. for some reason, his mind reaches back to earlier in the evening, when he'd heard that branch - the fear, the panic that'd risen in him. he's not sure why, or at least, he won't think about it. you hadn't mentioned it, but he'd seen your hands shake and your eyes cloud with fear.

something for another time, because he has you warm and pliant and naked in his arms. he barely noticed how his lips press at your hairline; it's just... well, feels natural.

like you both need it.

"stay here, please." you ask meekly, quietly. the first words spoken in a minute; you're swallowing around the nerves and anxiety that crawl in your chest, he can tell. he feels them, too.

he's taken aback as he stares at you - you both have patrol again in the morning, is it not... aren't you going to get tired of him?

won't you find him annoying, or gross in the morning when he inevitably pulls you closer in his sleep, when the dreams are too real and he shoots up in bed?

the panic subsides as he stares into your warm eyes, hopeful, bashful. he smiles gently, biting through the smile in embarrassment at how willing he is to stay. he'd stay forever if you asked.

Joel nods through his surprise, though, his body and heart and head aching to lie with you once again, to feel the calmest sleep he's had in years.

"course, darlin', I'll..." he pulls you in closer, so he doesn't have to look at those damn eyes when he finally admits it -

"I'll stay as long as you want."

feedback welcome as always :') <3

#let's chat abt mr miller #joel tlou smut #joel miller x reader smut #joel miller x you #joel miller the last of us #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel smut #joel x reader #joel tlou #the last of us x reader #the last of us (tv)#the last of us smut #pedro pascal smut

796 notes · View notes

futureman · 1 year

Text

living in a state of dreaming

summary: it’s been a year since you, joel, and ellie returned to jackson, and you’re finally starting to feel a sense of security. but when the sun goes down and joel closes his eyes, the horrors beyond the walls still hunt him, out to take back the family he’s worked so hard to protect.

pairing: joel miller x reader

warnings: hurt/comfort (mostly comfort), nightmares, sleepwalker!joel, language, minor injury, mention of panic attacks, ellie struggles, post-season one

word count: 1.5k

a/n: inspired by my own sleepwalking adventures :') i've loved tlou since the first game came out, but the hbo show really made me wanna start writing again, so this is my first fic here! thoughts and feedback are super welcome and appreciated! 💕

“You still mumble in your sleep,” she says, worry lines marring her face as Joel shoots up and off the couch. His eyes are much too alert for someone who was dead asleep moments before.

You meet Ellie’s gaze from across the room, her concern mirrored in your own. Joel had always suffered from nightmares, for as long as you’d known him, but it was so much worse now. Of course, Ellie notices. She may have moved into her own space out back, but she still watches Joel like a hawk, a side-effect of traveling together, of looking out for each other for as long as they had.

You can’t even begin to pinpoint the cause. Sure, he hadn’t loosened up much since your little group arrived in Jackson—he was still Joel, after all—but it had been a year. Ellie was safe, you were safe, and the delusion that nothing could ever harm you again was almost believable.

But still, there he was every night, tossing and turning, mumbling evolving into screaming as he reached out for you in the dark.

You do what you can, but your presence alone isn’t enough. You hold him in your arms, the warmth of his back against your chest a reminder that he's still here with you. "Joeljoeljoel," you murmur into his hair. He smells like suede and wood oil, and you squeeze him a little tighter. "I'm here, see? Go back to sleep, we're safe. Nothing here but you and me."

He’s still trembling, but you can feel his heart rate calming. Just a brief respite until the monsters come for him again.

For a while, Joel tried not sleeping at all. He occupied his nights woodworking, your home slowly filling up with small statues of animals and cowboys, neatly sanded and coated in a fresh stain. He’d let the bite of guitar strings on his calloused fingertips distract him from the burning behind his eyes, the headache blooming in his temples.

This isn’t sustainable and you both know it. But he’ll keep going, excuses falling from his lips that you and Ellie pretend to believe.

There’s not enough time in the day, he’d say. How do you expect me to finish fixin’ Ellie’s guitar, I made her a promise.

Ellie smiles for him, treads lightly as if she’s dealing with a child, and you think it’s probably a habit she picked up from the little time she had with Tess. It’s okay, Joel, there’s plenty of time for you to teach me. We’ve got forever, and she means it.

Ellie catches you before your shift one morning, her small hand circling your wrist.

“We should probably talk about Joel,” she lets go and wraps her arms around herself like she always does when she’s upset. You let out a sigh and it feels like you’ve been holding it in for days. She shouldn’t have to worry about things like this. Joel would be furious with himself if he knew.

“Something’s freaking him out. I dunno, maybe you should ask him about it?” She sounds frantic now. “I mean, what if he starts getting those panic-things again and can’t breathe, or he has a fuckin’ heart attack and dies?” You do your best to reassure her.

“Kiddo, I promise he’s not going to die,” your thumb smooths the wrinkle in her brow. “I think he’s just been through a lot. We all have.” Ellie doesn’t look like she believes you; she wants a better answer than that.

“...Do you still get nightmares?”

Your mouth tips down and you glance away. The front door is open and the chill of the air makes you shiver.

“Yeah, I do. But when I wake up, I know they can’t hurt me anymore,” you reply. She must still have them too, after the horrors she’s seen and lived. So much and yet so little time has passed, but Ellie’s scars are healing.

The friends she’s made here make her smile and she laughs more. Her cheeks are fuller and her eyes are less clouded. But scars never fade completely.

She nods stiffly.

“I’ll talk to him, see if something happened.” You hug her and she thaws just a little. Ellie hasn’t really warmed up to physical affection, and you won’t push it. But sometimes she welcomes it when she needs the comfort.

“It wasn’t like this out there, I-...I don’t know,” you continue. “I don’t know what changed, but we’ll figure it out.”

You don’t, and it escalates.

Sunday is the first day Joel sleepwalks. He wakes up halfway out of bed, his foot catching on the sharp, wooden bed frame—the one he built himself, close to the ground just like you wanted—and he can feel the skin of his ankle twisting and tearing.

He catches himself before he can crash to the ground and you’re on him in an instant. “Christ, Joel, are you okay?”

“S’nothin’,” he grumbles, bleary-eyed and dazed. You move to check the damage to his foot and he swats your hands away, which doesn’t surprise you at all, but hurts nonetheless.

The few times he let you patch him up were less a choice than a necessity, to say the least. A memory of Ellie with a syringe of penicillin, and you with a roll of duct tape and the cleanest rag you could find comes to mind, and so you let him go. “I got it, jus’ go back to sleep. Sorry for wakin’ you.”

The door to the bathroom closes and you follow behind, resting your head softly on the door. It’ll get better soon, you tell yourself. It’s getting colder, winter’s on its way, and Joel’s just stressed about sorting out patrol duties; infected are more unpredictable this time of year. Once Tommy and his crew are back from the dam, it’ll be better.

On Wednesday, his eyes are vacant as he grabs for the doorknob leading out of your bedroom, but it's gone, stolen away in the dark. He pounds his fists against the wood, desperately fitting his fingers in the gap between the door and the frame in a futile attempt to pry it open.

You don’t fully comprehend what’s happening until the yelling starts, low grunts becoming frantic pleas. He’s calling out for you, for Ellie.

The lights flicker on, enough to make him aware of his surroundings, of reality. Joel’s chest is heaving, eyes sad as your hands take his, leading him back to bed.

It's Saturday when the front door slams open, startling you awake too early in the morning. The other side of the bed is still warm, frighteningly so, as your hand slams down on the sweat-dampened sheets where Joel should be.

You’re too late to stop him from running out of the house into the cold, barefoot in the snow, as if something was chasing after him.

Joel can feel his heart pounding in his chest, hear the blood rushing in his ears like white noise, and he can’t seem to draw in enough air. He can't remember what he was running from, but its eyes in the shadows still haunt him. It’s all too much and his body finally reaches its breaking point.

It’s a terrifying sight, Joel dropping to his knees. His eyes are blank and he’s gone so, so quiet.

“Joel, please. You have to tell me what to do, tell me how to help you.” Resisting the urge to shake him feels so hard, but you have no idea how else you’re supposed to bring him back from this. He’s sinking into himself, hands tensing and untensing as he battles the urge to fight.

You wonder if he can even hear you.

The commotion hasn’t woken Ellie up, and you’re grateful. You don’t want her to see him like this.

“I let my guard down,” his gravelly voice catches you off guard. “This place is makin’ me weak.” Joel’s eyes are wet and your heart shatters. “Once you stop moving, it hits you all at once. The adrenaline’s gone, there’s no gettin’ it back.” His eyes find yours, and you’re frozen. “The fuck am I supposed to protect you like this?”

You sink to the ground to wrap your arms around him and the snow burns as it seeps through your threadbare pajama pants.

“There’s nothing coming for us, the Fireflies are gone. We got her back, okay? She’s ours now,” you murmur, words gentle even as you grip him tight, tethering him to right now. “And sometimes you have to let me protect you. Even from yourself, especially from yourself. That’s what we do, we keep each other going.”

Joel slumps, exhausted. His forehead drops to yours and his nose is cold as it bumps your own, breath warm and humid in contrast.

“Trust us,” you hum against his lips, and the remaining tension leaves his body.

It’s not enough to stop the nightmares; they’ll never stop. But it’s enough for tonight. And when the monsters come again, you’ll be there to turn on the light.

thanks for reading! 💕

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #joel miller

480 notes · View notes

lowlights · 19 days

Text

cosmic disruption

summary: the eclipse happens, and everything changes.

Joel Miller x gn!reader // 1.5k

warnings: fluffy fluff fluff, reader and Joel are patrol buddies, cute handholding, a smooch, self-indulgent eclipse nonsense

thank you to @ezrasbirdie for telling me to write this and @saradika for the divider!

To say that “normal” had changed a lot in the two decades since the outbreak was a laughable understatement. Society had upended in every single way possible, reshaping itself into something brand new and most often focused on the basics of survival. Amidst the hard work of existing, Jackson sometimes afforded you a few moments that made you feel like your old normal.

As you thumbed through a yellowed astronomy almanac in the small town library, a date only two weeks from today caught your eye. “Globally, total solar eclipses happen every 18 months,” you read to yourself, “however they only occur once every 400 years in a singular location.” The little science nerd who still lived inside of you jumped for joy when you saw a list of cities in the path of totality for this year.

“Jackson!” you announced triumphantly to Joel as he walked through the door.

“Yeah, we’re in Jackson,” he confirmed with a confused look.

“No, look! Jackson is in the path of totality! We get to see a total solar eclipse in a couple of weeks, look here- Joel, look!” you held the book in front of his face, tapping the page eagerly.

Joel grimaced. “Well that’s fine, but we ain’t got time for all that seeing as that’s our patrol day. Who cares what the sun is doin’ anyway, as long as it rises and sets each day?”

You lowered the book, defeated. “I care. I wanted to be an astronomer when I was a kid, did I ever tell you?” Your thoughts drifted far away to that little kid who got their first telescope on their eighth birthday. The world seemed so full of possibility then.

Joel’s face softened a bit. “I don’t think you ever told me that. Hard to say though with all that yapping you do during patrols, sometimes I just drown it out.”

You slapped his arm half-heartedly as he smirked, his eyes bright with humor, and carefully put the book back on the shelf. “Did you come in here just to give me a hard time, Miller?” you asked.

He shook his head. “Long past lunch and I didn’t see you in the mess. Heard you might be over here gettin’ lost in the books again. C’mon, they’ve got those roasted potatoes you like so much. Saved you some.”

You thought about the eclipse on and off for several days but put it mostly out of your mind as you took care of your chores and went off on your patrols every three days. Joel had long been your preferred patrolling partner, once you figured out that his silence and scowl didn’t mean he hated you. He grumbled about most things but in a way that always made you smile.

He might give you a hard time for how much you talked, but it was Joel who was the true storyteller. He wouldn’t admit it for anything, but he came alive when you got him talking about music or his brother or even woodworking. There were many topics that Joel wouldn’t speak on, and you had gotten pretty good at not pushing even when your curiosity burned at you.

Today you were focused on tilling the soil for next month’s garden starts to be transplanted outside. You liked working with your hands, truth be told, and this was a job that no one else wanted. You were happily alone with your thoughts, humming a tune under your breath, when Joel walked up.

“Hey there, Miller. Whatcha got there?” you asked, laying down your backhoe and tugging your gloves off.

Joel shifted uncomfortably on his feet as he held out a plywood box to you. “Made you this,” he said without explanation. You took the box from his hands and marveled at how light it was despite being the size of a large microwave.

“Thank you? What… is it?” you inquired. Joel was not the gift-giving type, and this was surely one of the oddest things anyone had ever given you.

Joel looked uncomfortable. “Did I do it wrong? It’s been a long time since I made one.”

“Do what wrong? What is this?” you turned the box around, noting a large hole cut out of the bottom and an aluminum panel on one side.

“Today is eclipse day, ain’t it? That’s what the book said. I looked it up and it says it starts in about 20 minutes, and this will let you look at it without burning your retinas clean off. Unless you want to look directly at the sun which is your business, I s’pose,” Joel rambled hurriedly.

Realization hit you. “Oh, Joel. Did you make me a pinhole viewer?”

He nodded. “It’s for your eclipse.”

Your eclipse. You sat the box down carefully before practically flinging yourself at Joel, wrapping your arms around his neck. Emotion welled up in your chest. “Thank you, this is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me.”

Joel froze for just a moment before reciprocating your hug. He drew you in tight against his body, tucking his nose against your neck. “It wasn’t any trouble. Just wanted you to have something, not a big deal.”

You sniffled. “It is a big deal, Miller. Thank you.”

You both were hesitant to part, holding on to each other as long as you could. You had never so much as shook Joel Miller’s hand before today, but something about being in his embrace felt…right. Like you should have been there long before this moment.

Joel gave you a squeeze before you broke apart. “Let’s go over to the other side of that tree line there, you’ll get the best view,” he suggested. He picked up the box with one hand and reached out for you with the other. You laced your fingers through his without a thought and followed him towards the clearing.

“Alright now, what you do is turn your back to the sun like this and put your head inside,” he instructed, lowering the box to rest on your shoulders. You noted that he had padded the sharp edges of the cutout with fabric so that it rested comfortably. “And just move your head around til you see the sun on the paper inside there.”

You followed his instructions until the eclipse came into view. “Oh my god, there it is! Oh, Joel. You can see the Sun’s corona, and oh - I think that was a flare! Joel, you have to see this!”

You started to lift the box off of your head, but Joel stopped you. “No, sweetheart, this is just for you. Just tell me what you see.”

“You’re not staring at the sun, are you?” you asked with genuine concern.

“No I’m not staring at the sun, for Christ’s sake,” he responded gruffly. You just laughed.

Joel held your hand and squeezed every so often, humming in acknowledgment at everything you were saying as you watched the moon pass in front of the sun. At one point you just stared in an awed silence, thinking about how you wouldn’t have believed even an hour ago that you would be standing here holding hands with Joel Miller and looking at the sky.

The moon and the sun didn’t know that there was an apocalypse, and at this moment you forgot there was also.

Finally, as the moon continued its trek across the sky, you lifted the box off of your head. As your eyes adjusted to the light, Joel’s smiling face met yours. You had never seen him smile so big with happiness radiating from his eyes.

“That was…more than amazing. Thank you. How did you know how to make that?” you asked, immediately regretting the question as the smile faltered just a bit.

Joel cleared his throat. “Made it with my, uh, daughter for her third grade science project.”

He didn’t offer any more details and you didn’t ask. You just took his hand again and smiled sadly. You knew loss too, like everyone in this world, and you didn’t need to ask how much pain he had been through.

“You know, you’re awfully sweet, Miller. I’m going to have to tell the rest of the town,” you joked, watching the sadness lift just a bit from his face. “They’re going to expect you to be nice to them from now on.”

He laughed and shook his head. “They know better than to think that. Tommy said they know it’s just for you, anyway.”

“Just for me?” you asked quietly.

He looked away. “I’m no good at this, sweetheart. But I took a shine to you a long time ago and I’m not hidin’ it anymore. Do you…do you think you could take a liking to an old bastard like me?”

“Joel…” you breathed out, turning his head back so you could look straight into his deep brown eyes. “I never thought you would feel that way about me. I hoped, so many times, that you would just lean over and kiss me. Or that I would get the courage to tell you how I felt. I could do more than take a liking to you, Miller.”

Without another word, Joel Miller kissed you. Gently, deeply, a perhaps a little clumsily. It had been a long time since either one of you had done that. You hoped you would get the chance to do it again and again.

“Thank you for my eclipse, Joel.”

“My pleasure, sweetheart.”

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #gn!reader #fluff #the last of us fanfic #tlou #eclipse

111 notes · View notes

justagalwhowrites · 7 months

Text

New in Town - Ch. 6: First Make Up

You and Joel come to an understanding. A continuation of New in Town chapters 1-5 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Best Friend's Dad!Joel Miller x Female Reader

CW: Angst. Smut, alcoholism, child neglect (mentioned, not thoroughly described.) No use of Y/N. Age gap (reader is 35 Joel is 47, not a focus of the fic). Minors DNI, 18+ only

Length: 8k

AO3 | First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Last Thursday

Shit.

Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit.

Shit.

“It’s so good to see you!” His smile was broad and looked genuine, not that you really bought it. He hugged you and your arms hung limply at your sides for a moment before you lifted a hand and patted him lightly on the back. “Missed you like crazy!”

He pulled back from you and looked you up and down.

“Why don’t you look happy to see me?”

Because you weren’t.

“Just shocked,” you said. “What are you doing here?”

“I can’t just stop by and see you when I’m in town?” He was damn near pouting. You tried not to roll your eyes. He was 53 goddamn years old and he was pouting. But that wasn’t a surprise, you were pretty sure he’d stopped maturing at 18. “You can come see me whenever you’d like, don’t need to call or anything, not that you ever do…”

“Oh, that’s rich,” you snapped before the glint of the sun off the glass door of your office building caught your eye. The client you were taking to lunch was heading right for the reception desk. You closed your eyes for a second and sighed. “Look, I don’t have time for… whatever it is you’re showing up here about.”

“I can’t just come to see my best girl?”

He was all but pouting again.

“We both know that’s not why you’re here,” you said. “Sit here, in the lobby, until I get back from this meeting. Don’t talk to anyone, don’t touch anything, we can talk about this when I’m done.”

“You really think I’m going to make that big a mess in, what, an hour?” He raised his eyebrows at you. You glared back.

“Wouldn’t be the first time. I mean it, Dad. Just… Don’t fuck something up. Please.”

“Angel,” he took your shoulders in his hands. “It’s going to be different this time. I mean it. Go to your meeting, I’ll be here when you’re done.”

Different this time. Sure. That was the chorus you’d heard again and again, every three years or so when he popped out of the woodwork and managed to track you down again. This time he had his shit together, this time he had a job he was just about to start, this time he was sober and going to stay that way. And every time he managed to blow at least part of your life up.

You heard your name being called from reception and you pasted a smile on your face, heading to greet your client, trying not to think about the fact that your dad had managed track you down yet again.

The lunch went surprisingly well, considering the fact that your brain was busy running through every damn scenario possible for why your dad had decided to show up and every way he could find to fuck your life up this time.

To his credit, he was sitting on the couch in the lobby, scrolling through his phone when you got back. He didn’t even notice you come in. You went to reception and Norah, the woman working the desk that day, confirmed that he’d sat there quietly for the two hours you were gone.

You sighed. Maybe he was going to make an effort this time. There was a first time for everything, you supposed.

“Alright,” you said and he looked up from his phone and smiled. “I have a few more things to take care of today, think you can behave yourself while I work?”

“You realize you’re the kid and I’m the parent, right?” He asked, getting up.

“Don’t know why that should start now,” you muttered, leading the way to the elevator.

He didn’t say anything back. Which you reluctantly gave him credit for. You’d been trying go goad him into it, antagonize him and push him into snapping so you could wash your hands of him. Apparently, he wasn’t going to let you.

You pulled out your phone when you got to your desk, your dad settling into a chair in the corner, pulling out his own phone and silently returning to it. You watched him for a moment.

To say your relationship with your father was complicated was putting it pretty fucking mildly. He’d never been in your life in any meaningful way. He came and went like the seasons did, eventually even adopting a similar regularity.

He cropped up every three years or so now and, since the last time you saw him had been before you moved to Seattle, you were due for him showing up and running roughshod over your life.

In past visits, he’d emptied your bank account, invited some “old friends” over who ended up being random men he’d met at a bar who then trashed your apartment, showed up to an event at your office so drunk that he threw up on another guest.

Every time, he claimed he wanted to see you. Spend time with his “best girl” (only girl - he had no other children and no woman would have him for longer than a few days), catch up on everything he’d missed when he was busy fucking around, moving from couch to couch until wore out his welcome, burning every bridge at every job he’d ever had.

No, you didn’t trust your father as you could fucking throw him. And you sure as hell didn’t want him anywhere near Joel.

That relationship was too new to bring him into the shit show that was your family, the stuff you tried so hard to hide that you all but lied about even having family to begin with. When talking to Joel about it, you’d just shrugged and said “No siblings, my parents have been gone for a while, no other family to speak of.”

You knew what he’d assume with the word “gone.” The same thing everyone else did: that they were dead. They weren’t. They were very much alive, they were just dead to you. Your mother was in Wisconsin, your father was… wherever the fuck he happened to be at the time. Which, right now, was Austin. In your office. And you had the sickening feeling that, if he actually knew Joel existed, he’d find a way to ruin it.

You sighed and texted Joel.

“So sorry, something came up at work. Can’t see you tonight.”

It technically wasn’t even a lie. Something had come up. And that something had come up at your work.

It still felt like a lie, though, and it turned your stomach to lie to Joel. Even though you knew the best, safest option was to keep him far, far away from that part of your life. Your phone buzzed.

“Shit happens. I’ll miss you. Tomorrow night?”

Fuck, you wanted to be able to see him tomorrow night. Your thumb hovered over the keyboard for a moment. You wanted to be able to say “Yes, absolutely, I’m going to need you to fuck whatever is about to come up with my dad out of my head so I don’t go insane. Also, I think I’m falling in love with you but let’s talk about that later.”

Instead, you set your phone down again.

You answered a few emails, sent the details of the potential contract you’d secured with the client at lunch over to that department, reviewed some copy that your team was slated to present to clients early next week. Your dad sat in the chair, not saying a word, just as you asked. You stalled as long as you could before you turned in your desk chair to face him. You put your head in your hands for a moment, pressing your fingers into the hollows over your eyes before you sighed and folded your arms in front of you.

“Alright,” you said. “What are you doing here.”

He put his phone down on the small table and smiled a little at you.

“Meant what I said before,” he said. “Missed you, Angel. Wanted to see you, spend some time with you…”

“How did you even know where I was?” You cut him off.

“I called your mom last week,” he said. “She said you’d moved here, that you had some fancy job down this way. She was real proud of you…”

“So that’s why you’re here?” You asked, brows raised. “Think you can get something out of my ‘fancy job’?”

“No, Angel, of course not,” he actually looked hurt by it. As though he hadn’t stolen thousands from you just six years ago. “Look, I know that I haven’t been the best father.”

“That’s an understatement.”

He ignored your comment.

“But I’m doing better now,” he said. “I really am. I was in prison for a bit…”

“You what?” You demanded, sitting forward in your seat. “Jesus Christ, Dad, what did you do?”

“Same shit I usually do,” he smiled a little, sheepishly. “Staying with a friend and I… uh… helped myself to some of the cash they had lying around. They weren’t thrilled with that so they called the cops.”

“Shit,” you sat back in your chair and closed your eyes for a second, taking a deep breath, before looking at him again. “So what happened, did you have a good attorney?”

“Nah, just a public defender,” he waved you off. “She was a nice lady but didn’t exactly have much time for my case. I pled out, got myself two years…”

“You could have called,” you said. “I could have helped you, I went to school with some people who became pretty fucking good attorneys…”

“I didn’t want to bother you,” he said.

“Never stopped you before.”

He ignored that, too.

“It ended up being good for me,” he said. “A blessing, really. Being inside forced me to actually sober up. For real this time. Haven’t had a drink in 27 months.”

You raised your eyebrows.

“Good for you,” you said, not even sarcastically.

“Got my GED too,” he said, sitting up a little straighter. “I know it’s late in life but I want to try and do something right. Get a real job, actually do something with myself. Maybe pay you back, even though I know it won’t make up for all the shit I’ve put you through over… well, your whole life.”

You nodded slowly.

“So are you just out or are you on probation?” You asked.

“Probation,” he said, wincing slightly. “Actually told my probation officer that I’d be staying with my kid…”

And there it was.

“Jesus Christ,” you muttered. “You can’t just…”

“I know,” he said. You ignored him.

“Remember that time, when I was 10 and Aunt Sue dropped me off at your place for what was supposed to be your weekend?” You snapped. “And you and all your buddies were so off your ass drunk and high that I ended up going to a neighbor’s house to see if they had food because I hadn’t eaten in two days? Because I sure fucking do, if you think I owe you something, that I’m going to baby sit you because you knocked my mom up…”

“I don’t,” he said quickly. “I know that. I do.”

“Do you?” You asked. “Because it sure seems like you think you can just come in here and fuck up my life on a whim and you think I’m just going to let you!”

Your email dinged and you sighed, going back to your computer. One of your copywriters had a question about a client and you tried to focus on reviewing the creative brief before responding and going back to your dad. You took a deep, calming breath.

“What is it you want.”

“What I’d like,” he said slowly. “Is to stay with you for a little bit while I find a job. It’s OK if you don’t want that, Angel, it really is. But I’d like to get to know you. Actually get to know you. But I’ll call my probation officer and tell him right now that I’m going to need another place to go, it’s OK. He’ll help me figure it out, he’s a good guy. I’m not trying to be your responsibility. It’s a little late to try to be your dad. But I’d like to be something to you.”

You just looked at him for a moment. He seemed so… genuine. Actually sincere. And he didn’t smell like liquor or look strung out.

You sighed.

“Alright,” you said. “You can stay with me for a bit. Just through the weekend to start, no promises after that.”

He smiled.

“I’d really like that.”

You took your dad home with you that night, picking up tacos on the way to your apartment. You’d gotten a two bedroom place, at least. Not because you ever had guests - you never had guests - but because you worked from home sometimes and you wanted the office space. At least the couch you’d bought for that room was a sleeper sofa.

You texted Joel again while your dad was in the shower, hating that you weren’t going to see him tomorrow, either. But if your dad was actually doing well, actually going to try and be a functional adult you could have a real relationship with, you owed it to him to try.

Still.

You didn’t trust him. Not yet. Especially not with something like Joel.

It was kind of surreal, having him in your apartment, doing anything but looking for a way to fuck you over. Consciously, you knew that’s not what it had always been. He’d often started with good intentions. You knew he didn’t set out trying to steal from you or embarrass you in front of your coworkers. He just didn’t know how to function in the life you lived. No one from your childhood did. He’d try, for a few days, and then he’d fall back into old habits.

But this time was different. Or seemed different, at least. You hoped it was different.

You watched a movie with him - Spaceballs, something he loved to watch with you on the rare occasions he was around enough to do things like watch movies with you when you were a kid - and he told you a bit about everything that had happened in the three years since you’d last seen him.

For a change, he seemed genuinely interested in what you’d been doing since then, too. He’d never even known that you were in Seattle - something that you found oddly comforting but strange all at once. Strange that this person who made up half of who you were was so distant that he didn’t know where you’d lived two years of your life. That if something had happened to you, he wouldn’t have known. Something had happened to him. You hadn’t known that, either. You weren’t sure if you regretted that or not.

“I do have to work tomorrow,” you said as you wound down for the evening. “Do you have a plan or anything you need?”

“Just wanted to look for some jobs,” he said. “If I could use a computer? The phone makes it hard to fill out applications. Don’t think I’ll need to go anywhere.”

“Sure,” you said, trying not to look surprised. “You can use my laptop, no problem.”

You set up a profile for him on your computer and made sure yours was password protected. And you reset the password so it couldn’t be something he would know - Joel0926. Just in case.

Joel texted you before you woke up - “Good morning, Beautiful. Hope your day isn’t too rough and that you’re taking care of yourself.” - and you wanted to tell him everything. All of it, all about your dad, all about where you came from, all about what you’d gone through to make it this far.

But he liked the person you’d made him think you were. What if he didn’t like this other version of you? What if your dad just took off in a few days and you risked blowing up everything with Joel for nothing?

“Thanks,” you wrote back, with a heart emoji. You sighed. He deserved better than this. But you weren’t sure how to give that to him, not right now.

All day at work, part of you was worried that you’d come home to find your apartment trashed or everything with any value gone with your father nowhere to be found.

Instead, he was in your kitchen, cursing quietly. You frowned and followed the sound, a slightly burned smell on the air.

“Dad?” You frowned, setting your tote bag on the counter as he bent over the oven. He jumped a little before straightening. He smiled sheepishly.

“Hey Angel. How was your day?”

“Fine,” you said. “What are you doing?”

“I… well…” he looked down at a glass baking dish that was more blackened than anything else. “I figured you’d probably had a long day and since you’re letting me stay here, thought I’d try to cook and I found a recipe online but I haven’t really cooked before…”

You went over and looked down into the pan with an almost amused frown.

“What even is it?”

“Well… I was gonna try and make a deep dish pizza,” he said. “You like that, I think, right? You went to school in Chicago, right?”

You smiled a little.

“How about I just order us pizza?” You said, having to swallow past a knot in your throat.

He looked relieved.

“Yeah,” he laughed. “Probably smart.”

You helped him apply for jobs through the weekend and were almost surprised to be settling into a pattern with him early into the next week. It was an odd role reversal, teaching your dad how to function in the real world. The one where people had jobs and bills and didn’t hop from friend’s place to friend’s place instead of having an actual home address.

But you weren’t confident enough to actually tell Joel any of it. You were still dodging him. Telling him about your dad opened the door to telling him about everything else from your younger years, things you’d worked hard to not have to share with anyone. Next week. If your dad was still around, still keeping his shit together, still trying to be in your life, then you would tell Joel. And, if he still liked you, you’d tell your dad about him.

Though that seemed like a big if.

Wednesday, you started questioning things.

Joel wasn’t texting as much. Not that you blamed him, you’d barely responded to him at all, not sure what to say but not wanting to lie to him. But you missed the texts. They were the bright spot in your day. You missed him. You wanted to go to his house and drag him to his bed and ride him until you were both sweaty and exhausted. You wanted to kiss him in a noisy bar that smelled like stale beer while you were tipsy. You wanted to call him on your way home from work so you could vent to each other and, by the time you came home to him, just hold each other until you had to move to figure out food.

You missed him because he was the first person you’d been close enough to that you might need to tell them about all of it and that terrified you. So maybe you were looking for problems when you got home after work and found your dad on the couch, watching sports.

“Hey Angel,” he smiled.

“Hey,” you sighed, dropping your bag by the door and stepping out of your heels before you flopped on the couch next to him. He hugged you and kissed your check. You frowned. “Have you been drinking?”

“What?” He laughed, looking at you like you were crazy.

“You smell like alcohol.”

“Angel,” he laughed. “It’s 5:30.”

“So?”

“No,” he said. “I haven’t been drinking. I did use some Listerine a little while ago, ate some sour cream and onion chips, didn’t want to knock you out with my breath.”

“OK,” you said, still skeptical. “How was your day?”

“Good,” he said. “I think I have an interview for next week, can you help me respond to the recruiter? I’m shit at writing things and not sounding like an idiot.”

“Sure,” you laughed a little. “Do you have job interview clothes?”

“What d’you mean?” He frowned, looking over at you.

“I mean you can’t show up to a job interview in jeans and a t-shirt, Dad,” you said. “Do you have like… a button down and khakis at least?”

“Don’t exactly got much,” he laughed a little. “Sure it’s fine, just a factory job…”

“We’ll go shopping when I get off work Friday,” you said. “I’ve got a late call with the west coast team tomorrow, I’ll be at the office late.”

“Honey, I can’t afford…” he began but you cut him off.

“I can,” you said. “Don’t worry about it.”

There was a knot of guilt in your stomach after accusing him of drinking, after he was making such an effort. But you checked the levels on your liquor bottles before you went to bed all the same.

But by Friday, you were feeling good about how things were going. There was a routine in your life, one that involved your father for the first time ever. It looked like he was serious about settling down in the area, applying for jobs and setting up interviews. Besides Wednesday’s blip, things seemed stable and you couldn’t stay away from Joel any more.

When he texted you Friday morning asking how things were going and if you’d be free again sometime soon, you took a deep breath and texted back.

“Hoping by Sunday,” you said.

By Sunday, you’d feel like telling him about your dad and everything else was worth the risk. Unless everything blew up. In which case, who cares.

You just hoped he’d still be interested, especially after you’d all but blown him off all week.

You took your dad to the mall that night, him modeling the dress pants and button downs for you, coming out of the fitting room looking a little unsure but a small smile on his face all the same.

“Feel like we should be doing the reverse of this,” he said, putting an arm around your shoulders. “If I’d done what I shoulda done years ago, I could have taken you shopping when you were a teenager and you could have showed me shit like prom dresses and I could buy you something you needed, not the other way around.”

“Yeah, well,” you shrugged and smiled a little. “I’m just glad we get to do this now.”

He smiled and kissed your temple.

“Me too, Angel,” he gave you a squeeze. “Me too.”

You went by H-E-B on the way home to get a few things for the weekend and started to go grab a bottle of wine and a six pack when you stopped yourself. Your dad laughed a little.

“Just because I’m not drinking doesn’t mean you can’t drink,” he said. “It’s fine. I can handle it.”

“You’re sure?” You frowned.

“I’m sure.”

So you got the beer and a bottle of red wine - one from the winery Joel had taken you to on your first date, something that made you smile - and got steaks. Getting to see Joel again soon, your dad lining up a job interview, things actually going well between the two of you for the first time in your life. It felt like a reason to make something nice.

Your dad went to put his new clothes and shoes away while you started dinner and you decided to make yourself a cocktail. It was going to be a good weekend. You could feel it.

You made a Tom Collins and had just melted butter in your skillet to baste the steaks when you took your first sip.

It was watery.

So watery it didn’t taste like there was liquor in it at all.

Your hand shook as you set the glass down and you went to the liquor cupboard and took out the gin. You sniffed the bottle and smelled almost nothing. No familiar burn or hint of pine. You took a sip straight from the bottle to test it. It didn’t matter that you were putting your lips on it. You knew you wouldn’t need to save it.

It was water. Straight water.

You clenched your jaw and swallowed past the burning tightness in your throat. You weren’t about to cry. Not in front of him.

“Hey Angel,” he said, coming out from his room in sweats. He froze when he saw what was in your hands. “Oh, shit, I…”

“Thought you were sober,” your voice shook. “Thought you wanted me in your life.”

“I do, Honey, I really do, but…”

“But you just couldn’t keep yourself from getting fucked up every day?” You were going to cry. You were going to cry in front of this fucking asshole because you cared. He’d made you actually care, you’d fallen for his bullshit yet again and it was your own goddamn fault. “Jesus Christ, were you really going to go get a job working with heavy equipment and show up every day drunk off your ass until you killed someone?”

“I know my limits,” he was defensive. “I know what I can handle and sometimes I just work better with a little alcohol in my system, that’s all I’ve been doing, that’s…”

“This was damn near full when you got here,” you slammed the bottle on your counter. “You’ve been here a week. A fucking week and you drank through an entire fifth of gin, that’s not a little alcohol, Dad, that’s getting hammered every goddamn day.”

You pulled the pan off the stove and threw it in your sink with too much force before turning off the burner. You leaned against the counter for a moment, your fingers pressed so hard into the granite it seemed like they should be denting it.

“I want you gone,” you said.

“Angel…”

“I mean it,” you spun to face him. “I want you out. I don’t care where you go, I don’t care if you end up back in fucking prison because you lied to your parole officer, I don’t care if you drop dead. I want you gone, I never want to see you again, I want you to get the fuck out of my life.”

You shoved past him and went to your room, locking the door behind you. You curled up on your bed and let yourself cry.

You wished your father had never found you here. You wished you’d been smart enough to not fall for his shit this time around, You wished you didn’t want a connection with him, want just a shadow of what Sarah had with Joel because being on your own in the world with no ties to anything hurt almost as much as suffering your family’s bullshit did.

But, most of all, you wished Joel was here. You wished you could curl up against him and that he would hold you while you cried. You wished he’d tell you that you weren’t fucking stupid, that it made sense that you wanted a relationship with the man who’d done nothing but fuck you over your entire life, that everything was going to be OK and that he cared about you in spite of it all.

You heard your front door close and you stayed on the bed, hoping that he’d actually listen to you and not come back. You’d need to get the locks changed, check the browser history on your laptop to see if he’d gotten into any of your bank accounts or credit cards, look through your apartment and make sure he hadn’t stashed drugs somewhere and forgotten about them. Fuck, why had you been so stupid?

The sound of the crash outside jerked you out of your head. It was loud enough that the building shook a little, the endless horn after the crash impossible to ignore, and you got up, going for your front door.

Outside, outlined by the setting sun, was your car wrapped around a lamp post.

“Dad!” You yelled, running for the smoking heap of metal. He was slumped over the steering wheel and you ripped the door open, checking his pulse. His eyes fluttered open as you did, looking confused.

“What…”

“You decided to steal my car this time,” you said.

“Oh, shit, I…”

“Save it,” you snapped as a neighbor ran outside, cell phone pressed to her ear.

You ended up at the hospital with him most of the night. By the time the police were able to test him for alcohol, it was all out of his system. He hadn’t had a drink since you’d picked him up to go to the mall that evening. You weren’t sure if you should be grateful or if you wished he’d failed the test so he’d end up back in prison and far away from you.

He was mostly fine, just a little banged up and a broken nose from the airbag. Your car was totaled.

In the back of the Uber to your place after hours in the ER, you looked at him.

“You’re gone,” you said. “By noon. Otherwise, I call the cops and you can deal with them.”

He just nodded down at his hands.

The next morning, you ordered him an Uber to the bus station. He tried to talk to you but you just sat on the couch, holding your coffee cup, pretending you were alone.

“I know I fucked it all up,” he said, standing in your doorway “But I really did like spending time with you this week. I…”

Your phone dinged, saying the driver had arrived.

“Your ride is here,” you said, not bothering to look at him.

“OK.”

He stood there and you felt his eyes on you for another moment before he turned and left. You sank back into your couch and rested your forehead in your hand for a moment, trying not to cry. Again. Because fuck, this man did not deserve it.

And then there was the knock on your door.

“Are you fucking kidding me,” you set your mug down so hard that coffee sloshed over the side and onto the table. You stalked toward the door, cell phone in your hand. You were going to call the cops on him this time, you really fucking were. “I swear to God if you forgot something you’re not coming back in…”

But it wasn’t your dad standing there.

“Joel,” you fought the urge to throw your arms around his neck and cry against him. He didn’t really look like himself, he looked upset. Hurt, angry, something. You frowned. “What are you…”

“Can I come in?” His voice was strained. You just nodded. “Think we need to talk.”

***

Your place looked the same.

It was strange, almost. Like there should be some indication of this other man here, something different about it but it was the same.

“Can I get you anything?” You asked. Your voice was thick. “I have coffee…”

“No thanks,” he said. “Don’t know how long I’ll be stayin’.”

“Oh,” you deflated a little. “Alright… What did you want to talk about? Because…”

“I thought we were on the same page,” he said, cutting you off again. He felt like a dick doing it but he had to get this out, if he didn’t it felt like he was going to burst with it and if he stood here too close to you for too long he wouldn’t do it. He’d just kiss you and wind up in your bed and be stuck in this sickening limbo he’d been trapped in for a week now. “I really did. We never talked about it, not really, but I thought…”

“I thought we were, too,” you frowned, looking confused. “I don’t…”

“You said you deleted your dating apps,” Joel said, his voice becoming a little heated. He took a breath. “You said you weren’t fucking anyone else, sure made it sound like you weren’t lookin’ for anything else, like you wanted to actually see where this would go, what this could be and… fuck, I believed that!

“You made me think it was OK to feel something for you,” he pressed on, standing in your living room with you in front of him, your arms crossed over your body and you looked so small, curving in on yourself like you were trying to disappear. And so much of him wanted to just grab you and hold you and tell you that everything was going to be OK but how could he promise that if you couldn’t even fucking agree on what you were to each other. “So I let myself feel it, I let myself start to fall in love with you and then you go fuckin’ silent on me. You don’t text me first and what you do send is basically nothin’, you never call and then I see you at the mall after you tell me you’re too busy to see me with some guy wrapped around you and that same fuckin’ guy is leavin’ your apartment this morning! I mean, fuck, if I was just some damn fling for you that’s fine but could you at least tell me? Not act like I meant somethin’ to ya?”

Joel was out of breath, his hands on his hips. He couldn’t look at you, not when you looked so sad it was like someone had hit you and he was still so mad, anyway.

“That was my dad,” you said softly.

Joel looked at you.

“What?”

“The man,” you closed your eyes for a second before you took a deep breath and opened them again. “At the mall, last night. Leaving my place this morning. That was my dad.”

“You said your parents were dead.”

“No,” you shook your head. “I said they were gone and they are, from my life. Except when my dad pulls this stunt where he crawls out of the woodwork every few years.”

He just stood there, staring at you for a moment.

“Want to sit down?”

He nodded and followed you to the couch. He sat down first and you sat on the opposite end of it, as far away from him as you could be.

“You knew I thought they were dead,” he said slowly. You nodded. “Why.”

“Joel…”

“You have to help me understand this, Beautiful,” his voice was calmer now. “Why would you let me believe a lie, I don’t…”

“Because I’m trash, OK? I’m trash, Joel, that’s why,” you snapped.

He frowned, shaking his head.

“You’re not…”

“Yes, I am,” you said, voice calmer. “Trailer trash, if you want to get technical about it, since I grew up in one. My dad knocked my mom up when she was 15 and he was 17, they were 15 and 18 when I was born. He took off right away and I grew up with my mom and one of her sisters because she was the only person in the family who didn’t disown my mother for getting pregnant at 15 and letting the dad run off.

“They were shit parents. It’s not really their fault, they were kids, they didn’t know what they were doing but they were really bad at it. I started taking care of myself before I can really remember, I couldn’t rely on anybody. My dad was in and out of my life even then, he decided real quick that his fucking friends and alcohol and drugs were way more important than I ever was. I tried, for a long time, to matter to him. To both of them, really. But I couldn’t so…

“I figured out that the only hope I had for not ending up like them was school. So I buckled down and did everything I could to be the best fucking student I could be. I took every AP class I could so I could get all the college credit I could manage before leaving high school, I got As in everything and I managed to get into a really good school.”

You squared your jaw, determined, and kept going.

“But good schools aren’t cheap and I had scholarships but they didn’t cover everything and it’s not like my parents were good for any of it. I didn’t want to take out loans. So I did the only thing I could find that would pay for the rest of school and pay the rent while letting me be free for classes during the day and I danced all four fucking years I was in school.”

“Danced?” Joel frowned.

You rolled your eyes.

“I was a stripper, Joel,” you said. “I’m not ashamed of it, it kept me fed and out of debt, but I’m not about to put it on my fucking LinkedIn. And it’s because they were there for none of it, they didn’t do a damn thing to help me or support me or anything but every few years my dad shows up and finds new ways to fuck me over. He wiped out my savings account once, trashed my apartment with his buddies another time. This visit he had a pretty good con going, showed up to my office acting like he had his shit together when, really, he was doing the same fucking thing he always does, which is drink and fuck his life up. And when I found out, he stole my fucking car and wrapped it around a lamp post. Because he’s trash and I am, too…”

“No, you’re not,” Joel said firmly.

“Joel…”

“You’re not,” he said. You were looking at him like you were about to cry. It made his chest hurt. “Why didn’t you tell me any of this? Why didn’t I know any of this?”

“Because everything that I am now?” You said. “Everything that you know and like about me? That’s all invented, I made it all up. I had to build myself from the ground up after I got away from that life. You liked the me that I built, Joel. The me who reads classic books and has an understanding of film theory and went to Northwestern. Why on Earth would you like the version of me who knew how to make ramen when she was four because that’s what she could reach in the cupboard or the me who took her clothes off to pay for college?”

“Because I like you,” he said gently. “Don’t really care which version, so long as you’ll let me spend time with you.”

All the hurt and the anger that had been swallowing him was gone now. In its place was this need to take care of you, to be something constant in your life in a way no one had been for you before, in a way you so desperately deserved.

You shook your head.

“That’s sweet, Joel,” you were choked up, eyes watery. “Really, it is, but you don’t mean that.”

“Don’t tell me what I do and don’t mean,” he moved to the middle cushion of the couch. “The person you are now? The one who laughs at crappy movies with me and doesn’t know shit about wine and finds the best restaurants in town? She wouldn’t exist without the girl who had to figure out how to feed herself or the young woman who was so determined to get an education she worked her ass off to make it happen.

“I wasn’t jokin’ when I said I was falling in love with you, baby, and that means all of you. Even the parts you don’t like, even the parts I don’t know yet. I’m fallin’ for the whole package and I’m fallin’ pretty hard so I’m really hoping we’re on the same page on that.”

You nodded quickly, tears actually falling now.

“Yeah,” you said, still nodding. “Yeah, we are. We really fucking are.”

You threw your arms around his neck and he pulled you against him, your face going into his chest as you cried against him.

“I’m so sorry,” your voice was muffled by his shirt. “I should have just called you and talked to you, I was so scared of losing this, losing you, I just hid it all and I almost let him ruin the best thing that’s happened to me in so long and…”

He shushed you.

“Don’t apologize,” his hand made a slow, gentle pattern from the crown of your head down your back, smoothing your hair down, tracing over your spine. “I’m sorry for assuming the worst, I’m sorry for making you think that anything about you would make me want to leave. I’m sorry for not just tellin’ you what you mean to me.”

“Yeah?” You sniffed a little, pressed yourself closer to him.

He kissed the top of your head.

“Yeah,” he said. “Because if I’d just told you how I felt about you, you wouldn’t have been dealing with all this on your own. I could have helped. I want to help. So please, Beautiful. Let me help.”

You looked up at him from your place against his chest.

“Can you just hold me for a while?” You asked quietly. “I really missed you.”

He kissed your forehead.

“Of course, baby,” he said quietly. “I really missed you, too. So damn much.”

You shifted so that you were all but on his lap and he held you close, just feeling you against him. It hurt to think about you so many years ago, having to go through shit on your own because none of the adults in your life stepped up to take care of you. It was hard to not picture Sarah as a little girl, what she would have looked like trying to fend for herself when she was four or five.

It hurt, too, to realize that you’d been so alone this past week. That he’d been thinking about you and wanting to see you but hadn’t been someone safe for you to come to. He kissed the top of your head again, making a silent promise to himself that he’d never let you feel that way again. That he’d always be the person you came to first, with anything, even if all he could do was hold you through it. He wasn’t going to let you do it all alone, not anymore, not again.

Your tears eased and you adjusted, nuzzling against him, your nose trailing over his throat.

“Feeling better?” He asked quietly.

“Yeah,” you nodded against him and pressed a long, gentle kiss to his neck. “Yeah, I am…”

You kissed his neck again, your lips against his skin for a few seconds, your breath warm and soft. He groaned a little.

“Don’t know if that’s such a great idea, Beautiful,” he pulled you back from him slightly and you frowned, your brows knitting together.

“Why not?”

“Just…” he adjusted himself so you wouldn’t see him starting to harden in his jeans. “Sounds like you’ve had a hell of a week and…”

“But I want to,” you separated from him enough to pull your top up and over your head, casting it aside on the floor and leaving you in a lace bralette. “Please, Joel…”

He wasn’t about to argue too much. He nudged you back on the couch so he could pull your pants and underwear off before he pulled his own down. Before he could even get them fully off you were on his lap, straddling him and pulling at his shirt until it was over his head and on the floor.

Joel slipped his hands to your waist and slid them slowly, gently over your skin, exploring you, feeling you, until he reached the bralette. He pulled that up and over your head before tossing it to the ground and leaving you bare before him.

“Fuck, beautiful,” he breathed, looking you over before kissing you deeply, his tongue teasing into your lips. “I missed you.”

“Missed you too,” you started grinding slowly against his lap, your wet slit brushing against his cock and making him shudder with desire. “Fuck, I wanted to talk with you so bad this week, Joel. You were all I really wanted and…”

“You’ve got me,” he said quietly, kissing you again. “Don’t have to do it all alone ever again, Beautiful. Promise you don’t.”

You nodded and squeezed your eyes shut for a moment before you rose up enough to notch his head against your dripping, grasping entrance. You dropped your forehead to his and your eyes met his own as you slowly, surely, sank onto his cock.

He moaned as you took him completely, fighting to take deep, steady breaths. You felt so damn good around him and he couldn’t help but look down to see where the two of you were joined, his cock disappearing into you. The sight of you taking him into yourself, the way your body made room for him, how you felt around him made him acutely aware of just how close he was to you. He was a part of you like this and it felt like this was how it was supposed to be, you and him together.

His hands ranged over you, up your back to pull you tightly to him and you gave a ragged, desperate little gasp.

“I’ve got you, Beautiful,” he held you tightly to him as you held him inside yourself. “I’ve always got you.”

You started to move over him then, every thrust of your hips delicious and slow, like you were savoring how he felt. You started to tighten around him and he groaned a little.

“Missed you, Joel,” you breathed, your pace increasing. “So, so much.”

You rode him and he was so lost in you he wasn’t sure how long he was clutching you to him, he was too far gone to notice. All he knew in the world was that you were his, that he could feel you so close it almost hurt, that he always wanted to be able to be with you like this.

“I’m gonna come,” you panted, pressing yourself flush against him, dropping your head to his shoulder. “Fuck, Joel, you feel… I’m gonna come I can’t…”

“Come on, baby,” he pressed his fingers into your flesh. “I’ve got you, I’ve always got you, want you to come for me. Come on my cock, baby, want to feel you, let me feel you.”

You came with a strangled cry and stilled as your pussy fluttered around him. He fucked you through it, thrusting up into you three more times before the force of your orgasm was too much and he pushed himself in deep, moaning as he filled you.

He held you like that, your bodies joined and aligned, for a while. Eventually, he relaxed his hold on you and you sat up a little, his cock softening within you. He reached a hand up and threaded his fingers in your hair, his palm against your cheek.

“Next time somethin’ happens, how about we just talk it out,” he smiled a little. “Like this a whole lot more than not seeing you.”

You laughed a little.

“Yeah, Joel,” you smiled. “Next time, we’ll talk.”

Next Chapter

A/N: Soooooooooo

I felt kinda bad leaving that cliffhanger out there two weeks in a row BUT now we have them on the same page :D and stuff is out there :D :D and they can move on to figuring out whether or not to tell Sarah :D :D :D

Don't forget that you can follow me and subscribe on my updates blog where I'll only reblog each new chapter once so you're not spammed.

I hope you all enjoyed this angsty little interlude in this story. I know I did! Thanks for being here <3 Love you!

Taglist: @fanficismydrug

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #smut fic #joel miller x oc #new in town

225 notes · View notes

rosepascal · 7 months

Text

happy birthday joel miller || Joel Miller x Reader

summary: It's Joel's birthday and you get him a gift.

warnings: sad joel rip sorry old man

a/n: Okay I wrote this in like 30 min but its the first thing in a while I've written so I'm sorry if I'm rustyyyy

It took you months to find the perfect gift for Joel. Doing odd jobs around Jackson and building up friendships for favors but you finally had it.

Joel didn't like his birthday, in fact you wouldn't have even known when it was until Tommy let it slip a few months back. September 26th, the day of the outbreak, the day he lost the most important person in his life.

A part of you wondered if this was a good idea. The Joel you see is different to what the rest of Jackson sees. He's softer, worn down by the life he's been forced to lead.

But in those brown eyes of his, he's kind. He's loyal and protective. The way his hands squeeze yours when he's nervous and the way he smiles when its just the two of you. It's enough for you to push through with your birthday idea.

That Joel Miller was a man who deserved the world and more. It was hard to hide your little side project but it was done.

A handmade acoustic guitar. You had to beg the carpenter in Jackson to help. You provided him the wood and the money plus extra as a thank you. You salvaged guitar strings from a broken one you found while on a trip to Colorado for supplies. The woodworker truly out did themselves.

It was beautiful.

Joel had told you and Ellie he wanted to be a singer as a kid, at first you thought he was joking but the serious look on his face said otherwise. Oh what you would have given to see young Joel and his guitar. What it would have been like to see him perform with his friends or even just on his bed.

For everyone today was a solemn day. Those who were old enough to remember outbreak day spent their time in remembrance. Remembering those they've lost and more.

For Joel he takes a horse ride to the nearby river bed and just sits there. He goes by himself early in the morning and comes back at night. You don't ask to go with him and you don't ask what he does. It's private. It's personal. Even if you two share a connection beyond most, this is sacred to him and you know that.

So you patiently wait for him to come back. The sound of the door and the wood creaking underneath his shoes alerts you to his presence. The sun had gone down hours ago.

"Hi Joel," You say softly as you peek your head out of your bedroom, seeing him sitting on the couch. A tired look on his face as he lays back on the couch.

"Hey there darlin'" He reaches out for you but you don't move, deciding now would be the best moment to give him his gift. Hopefully.

"I have something for you, but you have to listen to everything I say before you say anything back alright?" Joel sighs, knowing that whatever it is has to be a birthday gift.

A part of him wants to leave. Not because he's mad at you but because any mention of that day makes him want to run and hide and that feeling tends to manifest itself into anger and he doesn't want to get angry at you.

You take one last look at the guitar before bringing it to Joel. His eyes widen as he sees the instrument. It's shiny and free of any scratches or marks. It's brand new.

"I know you don't like your birthday, I know that it's...hard to remember." You start slowly. You hands wrapping nervously around the neck of the guitar.

"But I got this for you because you deserve it. You deserve something that makes you happy." Taking a step forward you hand it to Joel. He doesn't take it at first so you keep talking.

"You're a good man Joel. A good man who deserves a lot of good things, so this is hopefully a good thing." He's still silent.

The sound of your heart beating in your chest gets louder and louder. He takes it. It feels wrong to hold such a beautiful gift in his worn, broken hands. His calloused fingertips run across the smooth surface. His fingers pluck the strings and the sound rings through the room. His other hand forms a chord, from deep in his memory he remembers how to play. He strums and the sound is perfect.

"Baby..." Joel whispers. He's not emotional. He's trying not to be but it's hard.

"Thank you." He looks at you, his eyes shining. He strums a few more chords and you move to sit next to him.

"You know Sarah used to love when I played." He smiles briefly at the memory.

"When she was little I'd play and she'd get so happy, she'd dance around and always beg for another song." You listen intently as you rest a hand on his shoulder.

Joel closes his eyes as he remembers those painful memories. Ones that used to bring him so much joy that now cause a pain so deep in his chest.

"Will you play for me?" You rest your head against the couch, getting as close to him as possible. He shrugs off his jacket and sets it on your shoulders. His hand gently cups your face for a moment before he takes the guitar on his knee.

"I'll play for as long as you'll listen."

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction

174 notes · View notes

softpascalito · 5 months

Text

Presents - Pedro Pascal Characters Headcanons

Summary: Which presents do the Pedro boys give you for Christmas? I have some ideas.

Relationships: Joel Miller x Reader, Javier Peña x Reader, Dieter Bravo x Reader, Din Djarin x Reader Tags/Warnings: Non-explicit smut, Fluff, Headcanons

notes: some more headcanons for you darlings <3

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

Joel Miller

Joel is actually surprisingly good at giving presents. He'll pay extra attention to what you're saying or what you may need in the weeks before Christmas.

During patrol, he keeps an eye out for your favorite foods and products, storing them away into his backpack to add them to the ever-growing list of presents for you.

He prefers giving to getting, even though he's always more than thankful when it comes to his own presents. But nothing beats the look his loved ones get in their eyes when they unwrap a present from him and it's just the perfect one, showing just how well Joel knows them.

Come Christmas Eve, there's at least half a dozen small packages waiting under the Christmas Tree for you. Joel loves to spoil you.

He gets creative as well, making use of his woodworking skill to add a few more personal gifts to the pile, carving you small figurines of your favorite animals.

Javier Peña

Javi gets lost at least three times while he visits the mall to go Christmas shopping. He does not like the over-crowded stores at all but he knows he needs to find something that let's you know just how much you mean to him.

When asked about his own wishes for Christmas, he only asked for a pack of Malboros (needless to say, he gets a few packs AND a proper present).

He's about to pick out a frangrance that seems like you'd like it when he runs into Connie. She instantly sees that he looks like a fucking lost puppy in between all the products and options and takes pity.

She helps him pick out a few things you'll actually like and even reminds him to grab some wrapping paper. She also promises to not tell you about her helping out a little bit.

You're blown away by the gifts he picked for you, trying not to show how surprised you are he actually knew what to pick.

At the DEA's Christmas Party, you run into Connie. She just winks when you ask her if she'd been helping Javi. You both never tell him.

Dieter Bravo

Dieter thinks about whether or not to get you drugs (he doesn't).

He loves giving gifts that he knows will benefit him as much as they do you- something for your shared apartment or something for you to wear.

There's a cozy sweater and a hat from your favorite brand under the Christmas Tree, but there is also some more ... naughty clothing.

You like dressing up a little for Dieter, teasing him more than once throughout Christmas-time by suggesting to get one of those little red and white outfits that would perfectly highlight your figure.

He gets you a few, unable to decide on just one when he begins to imagine how good you'd look in them.

Dieter and you both name the white lace one as your favorite, detailed with little, glittering snowflakes all over the fabric.

Needless to say, the rest of the presents dont get unwrapped until the second day of Christmas.

Din Djarin

Din is absolutely lost when it comes to presents. The two of you are inseperable, which doesn't really make secretly buying something easier.

The opportunity presents itself when you decide to shop for some new clothes and he gets a little while to himself.

A Mandalorian wandering around the aroma and lotion shop turns heads but Din can't bring himself to care. He tries a few items, holding them below his helmet so that he can take a whiff.

He settles on a set of lotions and creams that smell refreshing, a note of pine in them. You always prefer the wooded planets to the desert ones so he hopes that it's a safe pick.

You love it more than he expects - and he does too. For the next few weeks, his entire ship seems to smell like the store did, fresh and gentle, and you seem surrounded by the scents he got you. It begins to smell like home.

He insists, as soon as you have used the bottles up, to go back and get you new ones, stocking up on the lotions and soaps and oils. If you ever leave, he tells himself, he'll at least remember the smell.

(You never leave).

110 notes · View notes

eideticallys · 9 months

Text

Loving Joel (And His Dad Jokes)

pairing: joel miller x reader

summary: days like this make you realize how much loving joel makes everything worth it—even his stupid dad jokes.

genre: fluff

word count: 962

author's notes: in my mind, joel is happy and thriving. he's living his best life in jackson. and you're in for a treat because joel is very much happy in this fic & in love (with me). yup, have fun reading! also posted on ao3 (spencereids).

MOST PEOPLE WHO KNOW OF JOEL MILLER WOULD SAY HE’S THIS BROODING, MYSTERIOUS, AND SCARY GUY. And they were right, mostly. Joel was someone you should be scared of. He is a fierce and ruthless protector of those he cares deeply for. He would stop at nothing. He’d do everything for his family.

At the beginning of your relationship—or when you only knew of him—Joel was someone you didn’t expect to fall for. He wasn’t your ideal man so to speak. But for some reason, despite your differences, both of you grew closer and then one day, you just woke up and realized that Joel Miller was the one for you.

And it seemed the feelings were mutual.

As you got to know him, Joel was quite the polar opposite of his reputation once you had managed to thaw his hard exterior. He had this other side to him, all hidden from those who weren’t special to him. It made you feel giddy knowing someone as hardened by life as Joel is enamored by you—which wasn’t an easy feat. You’ve had your fair share of ups and downs. Love isn’t simple especially when the world fell apart a few years ago. But loving Joel has been nothing but worth it. Waking up next to him, getting through the day, and falling asleep right next to him has made living better—like life was still worth fighting for because you had Joel.

You love him, and he loves you.

And you especially love his dad jokes, even if they were insufferable from time to time.

“It’s quite warm today,” You said to your lover as you descended the stairs of your home. “Do you wanna have a picnic or something?”

Joel, who was busy tinkering with his new woodwork project, which particularly looked a lot like you, or so you think, looked up at you. “That’d be nice, sweetheart. Do you wanna go now?”

You nodded as you placed a peck on his salt-and-pepper hair. “Maybe this afternoon,” You replied, heading straight for the bathroom. “I’m gonna go shower and then I’ll head over to Ellie and Dina’s, so I can invite them. Why don’t you go ask Tommy and Maria too?”

“Want me to join you?” Joel joked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

“No, Joel.” You laughed as you threw him a dish towel, which he dodged easily as he was laughing now too. “If you’re joining me in the shower, we are never going to have that picnic!”

A few hours later, you were able to wrangle some bread and other snacks to take with you on your little picnic. Unfortunately, it was just you and Joel. Ellie and Dina had other plans, while Tommy and Maria had errands to do. But it was perfectly fine. You had a lot of time on your hands. A picnic in the future isn’t a farfetched plan for you to make.

“Jesus, I underestimated the heat today,” You claimed as you fanned your face. Joel was grinning at you as he looked like he thought of a joke you weren’t in on. “Care to share with the class, Mr. Miller?”

He simply shrugged and retorted, “Oh, it’s nothing, baby.”

“Out with it,” You nudged him. He shook his head no, to which you scowled teasingly. “Tell me!”

“Nope,” Joel snickered, pinching your cheek. “I’m not saying anything.”

You pouted and rolled your eyes. If he doesn’t want to tell you, then so be it. You were about to let go of the entire thing and dig into the food you laid out when the heat started becoming even more unbearable as if it were possible.

“Fine, don’t tell me anything,” You muttered. “But we’ve got to move over there. This heat is killing me.”

As you pointed to a bunch of trees where you could sit for shade, it’s like Joel could no longer hold back as he started guffawing, slapping his thigh in entertainment.

Oh, it’s that thing.

The thing in question was a pun he thought of. Real mature.

“Joel Miller!” You exclaimed as you started laughing along with him. One thing about Joel’s smile is that it’s as infectious as it’s your favorite thing in the world. “You’re worse than Ellie. Do you know that?”

“No, I’m not!” He denied, still laughing. “I haven’t even told you the pun yet.”

“Fine, tell me.”

Trying to stifle his laughter, Joel wheezed before schooling his face to a neutral expression. “I don’t think we should head over there. I don’t trust those trees.” He stared at the trees.

You looked at him, perplexed as to why. As far as you know, Jackson was the safest place you could be in, and those trees looked nothing out of the ordinary.

“Why?” You asked, starting to worry. “What’s wrong?”

You can slowly see the mischievous grin forming on Joel’s face.

They seem kind of shady.”

You groaned at him as Joel guffawed once again. You were starting to get looks from passersby as to what reduced the formidable Joel Miller while you were shaking your head.

“You’re so stupid,” You started chuckling. “Sometimes, I ask myself how can people take you seriously. Jesus, what was that pun?”

“It was funny!” Joel laughed, poking your side. “You even laughed.”

“I did because it was stupid.”

“That’s the point,” He retorted immediately. You rolled your eyes at him endearingly. “Puns are supposed to be so stupid that they’re funny.”

“You’re lucky I love you.” You responded immediately.

“Yes, ma’am,” Joel saluted. “I love you more.”

You smiled widely and landed a kiss on his stubbled cheek. Days like this make you realize how much loving Joel makes everything worth it—even his stupid dad jokes.

188 notes · View notes

penvisions · 2 months

Text

by the grit of sandpaper {masterlist}

Pairing: Jackson! Joel Miller x F! Reader

Summary: Joel Miller is a gruff as they come, the world having changed him for the worst. But settling in Jackson with his brother changed him for the better. He's known around town as someone to help, whether it be with home repairs, construction, and hand carved trinkets. An offhand comment from you inspires him to branch out and create helpful kitchen wares. And it seems everyone has been gifted one from him, except for you. It makes you rethink the casual friendship you had developed with the man that had just begun to expand beyond patrols.

Word Count: 44.5k - ongoing

Warnings: canon typical violence, canon typical language, pining, unrequited feelings, joel a little mean in this, heart of gold joel, carpenter joel, woodworking joel, artisan joel, patrol partnership, mild injuries, confessions, lots of feelings, angst, hurt and comfort, joel miller's hands need their own warning, arguing, heated interactions, smut, p in v, unprotected p in v, oral (f and m receiving), jealousy, more to be added as the story develops!

A/N: hinted at this back around the holidays, but will soon be committing time to bring this to life!

ao3 link || main masterlist || ko-fi

fic teaser || fic teaser no.2 || sneakie peek || olive's song

chapter 1 || chapter 2 || chapter 3 || chapter 4 || chapter 5 || chapter 6 || chapter 7

epilogue

705 notes · View notes

guess-my-next-obsession · 1 year

Text

Christmas Tree Farm

pairing: the stable girl universe!joel miller x f!reader (Sunshine)

rating: E (18+ only, just a bunch of happy fluff with a very smutty ending, shower sex, unprotected piv, fingering, dirty talk, return of the creampie)

word count: 4.2k

8 Days of Christmas Masterlist

It was hard to feel normal about anything in this world, even for those lucky enough to find themselves in Jackson. Christmastime hadn’t been any different, the children that had been born during the outbreak growing up without any of the old beloved traditions that you and Joel had the privilege of growing up with. So, to add a bit of nostalgia and tradition back into the town, Joel created a little Christmas Tree Farm with (admittedly) unimpressive pines he, Ellie, and Tommy had chopped down and dragged back into camp. This way, people could feel a little bit more normal and less like they were simply surviving.

“My lumberjack,” you greeted Joel as he chopped at log after log of wood with an axe, his head turning to greet you with a smile as soon as he heard you. He wiped his brow with the back of his hand before setting his axe down, his smile growing as he spotted the thermos and brown lunch bag in your hand. “Brought you something to warm you up.”

“If that’s what you were aimin’ to do, all you had to do was bring yourself, darlin.” Joel walked to you, kissing you sweetly. You chuckled against his lips and lightly pushed him back as his kisses began to travel down your neck.

“There are kids around,” you lovingly scolded with a blush, handing him his coffee and lunch bag to occupy his eager hands. Joel frowned and gave you his best puppy dog eyes in response. “You can wait until you get home.”

“Says you,” he rolled his eyes and gave you a half-smirk. “At least stay and have lunch with me.”

“Ellie’s at home watching the twins,” you tried to reason but he shook his head at you.

“Nope, you’re stayin’. It’s settled.” You laughed as Joel stepped behind you and gently pushed your back to make you walk forward into his workshop. Leaning in, Joel tickled the back of your neck with his beard, pressing his ice cold lips to your skin to just feel it pimple. “You smell good. Like cinnamon.”

“I was making snickerdoodles and gingerbread dough with the twins and Ellie.” Joel set his coffee and lunch bag down on a table littered with sawdust and wood scraps before turning you around to face him, his hands clasping at the small of your back. He smiled at you, clearly in a very affectionate mood.

“I ain’t got any customers right now,” he noted as he looked through the window, the yard filled with pine trees and Joel’s woodworking projects empty. “We could have a little fun.”

“Joel Miller,” you gasped and playfully swatted his chest through his jacket and flannels, Joel squeezing you closer in response. “What’s with you and wanting to fuck me in every public space you can think of?”

“What’s with you lookin’ so damn good all the time?” he countered, your eyes rolling as you let out a chuckle at his persistence. “C’mon, baby. Just a quickie.”

“When you get home,” you promised, earning another small pout before he gave up his sinful quest. “Now, eat. You’re gonna need your energy for later on.”

“Oh yeah?” He smirked at you as he sat down on the bench, pulling you onto his lap before opening his lunch bag and digging in.

“Oh, yeah.”

“Lulu, you need to listen to Aunt Ellie,” you gently corrected your daughter’s eager hands as she reached for the gingerbread dough while Ellie was rolling it out, her fingers almost getting crushed by the wooden rolling pin Joel made you last Christmas.

“Sorry, mama. Sorry, Auntie Ellie,” Luna apologized in a soft voice, her timid nature shining through.

“It’s okay, baby. We just don’t want you to get hurt.” You watched as Ellie set down the rolling pin and lifted Luna into the counter so that they could start pressing the cookie cutters into the dough. “El, I’m gonna go check on Luke and Vivi. They’re being worryingly quiet.”

“My money’s on at least one broken window!”

You searched the living room for your four-year old son who was supposed to be playing with his older cousin, the two nowhere to be found. You sighed as you started the routine search for your troublemaker of a son downstairs before heading up to his bedroom, his coat and snow boots missing. Breathing in a breath of patience, you jogged downstairs to search for him outside but before you could reach the door, Joel was carrying him in like he was a package. Luke giggled as he was tucked under one of his father’s strong arms, Joel’s head shaking as he closed the front door behind Vivienne.

“Vivi, I told you—no playing outside unless you ask me first.” You scolded while Joel set his son down on his feet and helped him take his coat and boots off.

“Why are you yelling at me?” The eleven year old asked, the picture of her mother as she crossed her arms over her chest. You looked to Joel for help, but he was preoccupied with taking his own boots off.

“Because you’re older and you should know better.” You watched as Lucas bolted like a ball of never ending energy into the living room, Joel sighing as he finally joined the argument.

“V, Ellie’s gonna walk you home. I’m sure your parents are missin’ ya.” Joel ruffled her hair as he walked her further into the living room, your feet padding into the kitchen.

“Hey, could you possibly walk Vivi home?” You asked Ellie as her and Luna finished the cutting the final cookie.

“Yeah, I gotta go see Dina anyways.” She walked over to the sink and washed her hands while you scooped your daughter up and sat her on your hip. “She did most of ‘em herself.”

“Did you, now?” You smiled at her shy blush, her head nodding. “I think they’re gorgeous. Your daddy’s gonna think so, too, I bet.”

“Incoming!” Joel flew his son into the room like he was an airplane, Lucas giggling uncontrollably as he “crash landed” right into you. “Oh, what do we have here?”

“Lulu helped cut out some cookies.” Joel lit up for his daughter, acting as though she’d just painted the Mona Lisa.

“I’m so proud of you, baby girl.” Joel leaned over and kissed her temple before setting Lucas down. “Alright, y’all. Say bye to cousin Vivi.”

“Bye Vivi!” Luna and Lucas waved from across the room at their cousin as Ellie walked her out the back door, both you and Joel sighing in relief.

“I love having her over but, lord, she’s so much like her parents. It’s hard to try and tell her anything,” you lamented with a shake of your head, setting Luna down and smiling as you watched her run straight to her father and demand to be picked up, Joel obliging. You reached over, combing her wild hair out of her face. “Alright, how about I put these cookies in the oven while your daddy takes you both upstairs for bath time?”

“Okay.” Luna agreed sweetly.

“No!” Lucas protested with a stomp of his foot.

“Lucas Miller, I suggest you change your tone when you’re talkin’ to your mama.” Joel corrected his son’s tantrum with a strong voice and a stern glare.

“But I don’t wanna take a bath…” he pouted in a softer tone, his arm wrapping around your leg to show you a bit of gentleness.

“You went outside today, Luke. You need a bath.” You pet his dark hair back as he leaned his head against your thigh. “Go take a bath and I’ll let you have the first cookie, okay?”

He nodded, a smile growing on his face at the compromise.

“Alright, then,” Joel chuckled, giving you an impressed look. “I was just gonna turn into an a-s-s-hole and hoped that fixed it, but bribery works.”

You laughed and shook your head at him, leaning in to give him a kiss, your children “ew”-ing in unison at the sight.

“Alright,” Joel pulled away with another laugh, winking at you as he scooped up his son and sat him on his other hip, carrying the two upstairs to the bath while you slid the trays of gingerbread into the oven and set the timer for eight minutes.

You tidied up the kitchen, the explosion of flour and cookie dough, along with veggie scraps from the soup you had whipped up for dinner covering your counters and floor. After a quick sweep and a thorough wipe down of all your counters and sink, the bell on the timer started to ring, signaling the completion of your cookies in the oven.

As if on cue, your children came barreling into the room dressed in their pajamas, their hair damp as they evaded their father’s grasp.

“Come back here, little monsters,” he put on a funny voice for them, chasing them around the living and dining room to simultaneously distract them from the kitchen and tire them out before bed.

You quickly transferred a few of the gingerbread to a cooling rack, just one for each of you to decorate, while the remaining twenty rested on the baking sheet.

“You ready for us, mama?” Joel asked after about five minutes of playtime, clearly winded and ready for a break. You chuckled and walked over to him, cupping his face.

“I love you,” you reminded sweetly, consumed by how good of a man, father, and partner he was.

“I can’t wait to see just how much when I get you alone later.” He winked at you before whistling for his children, calling them into the dining room and sitting them down in their seats. “Alright, mama’s gonna bring the cookies and icing over.”

“I get the first one!” Lucas declared proudly, Joel chuckling as he sat down between his children.

“Yeah, yeah. We know.”

“Alright, here you go Luke,” you set down his cookie first before giving one to Luna and Joel.

“You ain’t gonna make one, baby?” Joel asked, calling you over to sit on his lap. You half-obliged, leaning against his chair with his arms hugged around your hips.

“We can share,” you pressed a kiss to his forehead before helping your kids with their icing bags, Joel splitting his focus between his own masterpiece and his son’s. “Good job, Lulu.”

“Can I eat it now?” She asked, only having drawn a simple ace on her gingerbread man while Joel and Lucas went to town on theirs.

You giggled and shrugged at her. “If you want, baby. It’s your cookie.”

“Okay, I’m gonna eat it then.” She grinned at you before placing her cookie headfirst into her mouth and biting the gingerbread man’s head clean off.

“Oh my goodness, your dad was right. You are a little monster.” You tickled her stomach as she chewed her cookie, her giggles making your heart swell.

“Alright, you two,” Joel tapped your hip to call your attention to his and Lucas’ cookies. Both you and Luna exchanged a look, not impressed by their Jackson Pollock-esque icing work. “Y’all are just jealous. Ain’t they, Luke?”

“Jealous!” he agreed passionately before taking a bite out of his cookie and humming at the amount of sugar he’d drenched it in. “It’s good, mama.”

“Oh, I bet.” You laughed and gave him a sarcastic head nod and thumbs up, earning a laugh from Joel, the sound warming your soul.

It was an hour or so later that you and Joel sat with your children curled up in your laps on the couch, Joel’s voice deep and soft from exhaustion as he read “Charlotte’s Web” out loud.

“When he recovered from his emotion, he spoke again. ‘Why did you do all this for me?’ he asked. ‘I don’t deserve it. I’ve never done anything for you.’,” Joel read from the book, Lucas nearing sleep but Luna still captured by the story. You felt yourself start to ache for him, between his softness with your children and the deep rasp paired with his accent. “‘You have been my friend,” replied Charlotte. “That in itself is a tremendous thing. I wove my webs for you because I liked you. After all, what’s a life, anyway? We’re born, we live a little while, we die. A spider’s life can’t help being something of a mess, with all this trapping and eating flies. By helping you, perhaps I was trying to lift up my life a trifle. Heaven knows anyone’s life can stand a little of that.’”

“Daddy,” Luna croaked, voice weak with exhaustion.

“Yeah, baby girl?” He asked, flickering his eyes to you and curling his lips up into a small smile.

“I’m sleepy, so can you stop reading?” Both of you chuckled at her politeness, your lips pressing against the crown of her head as Joel shut the book closed.

“Sure thing, sweetheart.” He stood up with Lucas, grunting as Luna latched onto his other side, both kids in his arms resting their heads on his shoulders. “Say goodnight to mama.”

“Night mama,” Luna blew you a kiss while her brother remained fast asleep. You stood up and kissed both of their foreheads before they headed upstairs.

You walked to the kitchen to heat up some milk for a bedtime hot chocolate, the pot taking longer than you’d hoped to start boiling. Joel’s hands found your hips as you stood at the stove, his lips pressing against the back of your neck and trailing down your shoulder and back up again, leaving chills in it’s path.

“Finally got you alone,” he husked against the shell of your ear, his lips pecking the sensitive spot behind it.

“I was gonna make some hot chocolate for us but it’s taking too long,” you sighed, turning in his arms and hugging his waist. Joel leaned in to kiss you as though he hadn’t heard what you said, his lips moving slow and sure, no signs of any rushing on his part.

“A hot chocolate sounds nice. We can sit out front with ‘em.” His breath fanned over your lips and a whimper escaped yours, your center aching for him while he was perfectly content on taking tonight slow. “Baby, I’m not letting you go to bed without making you feel good. You ain’t gotta worry about that. I just wanna enjoy some alone time with you beforehand is all.”

“Only if you promise to sing me a song,” you bargained with a smile, Joel’s breathy chuckle puffing against your face.

“Sure thing, darlin’. What song?”

“Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas,” you responded quickly, earning an eyebrow raise of curiosity. “I’ve loved that song since I was a little girl, and also I just think you’d sound good singing it.”

“Alright, baby. Whatever you ask me to do, you know I’ll do it. I’m weak when it comes to you.” He pecked your cheek before leaving you to your task while he grabbed some blankets and his guitar, carrying them out front to the porch.

It was about ten minutes later that you came out to join him, carrying a mug of hot chocolate in each hand. Joel was sat on his rocking chair, a blanket on his lap as he strummed mindlessly, the soft melody bringing a smile to your face.

“Sounds so pretty,” you complimented as you set the mugs down on the side table he’d built. Joel beamed at you, not saying anything because his eyes said enough. He couldn’t have looked more in love or at peace. “How old were you when you learned to play?”

“Young, middle school, I think.” He spoke over his strumming as you sat down in the rocking chair he’d made just for you, tugging on your own blanket before holding your mug in your hands to help warm you up. “I tried showin’ Luke a couple nights ago, but he’d rather die than sit in one spot for five minutes.”

“Well, that’s the product of our love,” you shook your head with a chuckle, Joel laughing along before sipping his drink, letting out a hum at the taste.

“This is delicious, baby. Thank you.” You reached over and swiped the whipped cream off his lip with your thumb, sucking it clean. Joel let out a dark chuckle and shook his head, looking at you like you were a temptress and he was about to willingly give his honor away just to have a taste of you. “Tease.”

“How about that song, cowboy?” You pinched his knee and he let out another breathy laugh, his fingers starting to strum the guitar again.

“Have yourself a merry little Christmas,” Joel started, his deep, southern singing voice literally music to your ears. You wanted to sit on his lap, hold him close, kiss every inch of him you could reach, but his guitar stood in the way. You resigned to loving him from a few feet away, your feet helping your chair rock back and forth as you slipped on your hot chocolate and simply basked in his voice. “Here we are as in olden days, happy golden days of yore. Faithful friends who are dear to us gather near to us once more.”

“Wish you’d gather near to me,” you mumbled under your breath, or so you thought. Joel let out a boisterous laugh and stopped his playing, setting his guitar down before patting his lap.

“Get on over here,” he demanded through a chuckle and you happily obliged, carrying your blanket and cup of hot chocolate with you as you sat down in his lap, his arms wrapping around you to hold you close as he rocked you back and forth. Joel nuzzled his cold nose against your cheek, bringing a grin to your face as his mustache tickled your skin. “I’ll never get tired of this, darlin’.”

“Me either,” you turned your head, your nose bumping his as the two of you pressed your foreheads together. “Kiss me, Miller.”

“Where?” He asked with a mischievous smirk, earning a playful swat to his chest.

“Wherever you want,” you purred.

“You just keep gettin’ better.” Without warning, Joel scooped you up bridal style, impressing you with his strength as he walked you inside the house, shedding the blanket you were still wearing. A giggle escaped your lips and Joel hushed you with a kiss, smiling against you as he carried you up the stairs to the bathroom. “You gotta be quiet, baby. We’ve got two little monsters we don’t wanna wake up.”

“Yes, sir.” You mock-saluted him, earning a half-smile and an eye roll as he set you down onto the floor, closing the bathroom door behind him and locking it. His hands held your hips, pressing you against the sink counter as he kissed you deeply, thoroughly, building that aching desire back up from earlier.

“Get undressed for me while I let the water heat up,” he ordered with one last peck to your lips.

“So bossy tonight,” you teased as you stripped down to nothing, Joel’s grin going unseen by you as he bent down to turn the water on.

While you were at the sink, you tied your hair up, determined to not have to deal with the daunting task of washing and drying it. Joel took this opportunity to snake his arms around your waist, kissing over your shoulders and back as you watched him in the mirror. When he resurfaced, he hazel eyes were dark with lust, his hands traveling up to cup the weight of your breasts.

“You just get to walk around lookin’ like this,” he husked as he continued to palm your mounds, his thumb brushing back and forth over your slowly pebbling nipples. “What’s that like? Knowin’ you’re the most stunning thing to walk this earth.”

“Such a line,” you meant to speak teasingly, but the feeling of his fingers tweaking your nipples as he pressed his still-clothed cock against the crease of your ass made you ditsy with desire, your words coming out as a whimper. Spinning around in his arms, you shucked his jacket off his shoulders. “Your turn to strip.”

“Guess that’s fair,” he smirked and peeled his three layers of sweaters off at once, his stomach flexing as he raised the fabric over his head. You reached out to touch your palms to the thoroughly scarred expanse of his stomach and chest, relishing in the feeling of his warm skin against yours. Joel placed both hands on your face and backed you against the vanity counter, kissing the breath out of your lungs. You hummed against him as you undid his belt and jeans, trying and failing to shuck them down his hips. “Hop in the shower, I’m right behind ya.”

You nodded and made a few quick steps to the shower while Joel quickly peeled his jeans and underwear off, leaving them in a pile on the floor as he stepped in behind you. His arms hugged you close as you faced towards the stream of hot water, Joel’s bearded cheek resting against your shoulder blade.

“I’ve been thinkin’ bout this all day,” he confessed in a rasp, his kisses trailing from one shoulder blade over to the other. You could feel him hardening behind you, his cock resting against your lower back. You hummed, tossing your head back to rest against his chest as his lips traveled up your neck to the side of your face, pecking every inch of skin he could find until you were grinning from ear to ear. “You wanna get clean before we get dirty, or get dirt before we get clean?”

You chuckled, turning in his arms to cradle his face. “Whatever get you inside of me quicker.”

Joel grinned as he leaned down, pressing his lips to yours and walking you backwards until your back hit the cold wall of the shower. You gasped at the chill on your skin but his body pressing into yours quickly made up for it. One hand slipped from your side to the patch of hair between your legs, running his fingertips over it as he sought out your heat. When his fingertips finally reached your clit and started to rub pressured circles against it, your body relaxed, your head tipping back against the wall. Joel took the opportunity to suck a mark onto your skin—the joys of being settled down.

“Fuck, I need you,” you moaned, reaching down to pump his throbbingly erect cock. Joel hissed but bucked his hips into your fist, both overwhelmed and desperate for more simultaneously.

“I dont think this is gonna be one of the more impressive times, darlin’,” he chuckled, already near his release. “Too worked up.”

“I don’t care,” you assured, spinning around so that your chest was pressed against the wall and your ass was sticking out. “I know you’ll make me feel good, regardless.”

“Damn right,” he boasted as he ran his fingertips from your clit to your entrance, dipping inside in shallow thrusts until he was curling them against your favorite spot.

“Oh, fuck.”

“Gonna eat your pussy until you’re shakin’ once we get into bed,” he promised, his voice a deep rasp as he continued his attack, your thighs already shaking from his skilled fingers. “Fuck, you’re drippin’…you ready for me? Want me inside you, sweet thing?”

“Fuck yes,” you breathed out, shimmying your ass for him. Joel chuckled and nodded against you as he kissed your spine, his fingers leaving you to grip his cock, a his leaving his lips as he put just the tip in.

“God damn,” he moaned before chuckling again, shocked by his own level of arousal. “Talkin’ ‘bout makin’ you shake…this sweet little pussy has me shakin’.”

“Joel, please…I want you so bad,” you whimpered, his voice and the words leaving his lips were driving you wild with desire. You were so ready for him you could cry over it, but as always, Joel took his time.

“Gotta ease in, baby,” he reminded, placing another kiss to your back. “Don’t wanna hurt you.”

“I want you to,” you begged, turning your head so that you could look at him from over your shoulder. “I want you to fuck me so hard I can’t walk straight tomorrow.”

Joel growled at the demand and pressed in all the way to the hilt, an echoing moan filling the room as he looked directly into your eyes.

“You’re gonna make me cum, baby,” he warned as he snapped his hips brutally against the flesh of your ass, each stroke hitting something electrifying inside of you that had your brows furrowing. “That what you want? You want me to fill this pretty pussy up and then lick you clean? Huh? Answer me.” He swatted your ass, the sting mixing so well with the pleasure that you very nearly came.

“Again! Do it again,” you begged earnestly, completely lost in your bliss. Joel smacked his hand down onto your ass again, this time hard enough for him to see a mark in the shape of his hand on your flesh. “Yes! Yes, fuck! I’m cumming!” You mewled as your walls constricted around him, your orgasm washing over you warm and soft, nothing like the fucking Joel was giving you.

“Fuck!” He growled out loud as he stilled his hips, his hands gripping your hips as he pressed all the way inside of you, his cock throbbing as he spilled into you. He leaned his head forward to rest between your shoulder blades as he caught his breath, both of you content to stay like this the entire night. “God damn…almost passed out.”

“Me too,” you chuckled, standing upright as he willed himself to slip out of you, both of you hissing at the absence of each other’s warmth. “Let’s hurry up and get clean, the water’s already cold and I’m looking forward to that promise you made me.”

Joel chuckled and spun you around, slotting his lips with yours for a tender kiss.

“Anything you say, Mrs. Miller.”

taglist: @uselsshuman @joelmillerscoffee @wildemaven @axshadows @sherala007 @browneyes-issac @kimm4710 @stxrrylunatic @sara-alonso @paulalikestuff @chxpsi @auberosier @mashomasho @harriedandharassed @trickstersp8 @trinkets01 @jlmaddinson @laureliciousdefinition @oh-no-a-whovian @buoyfriend @chorraich @extraneous-trip @oliviajdjarin @wumpsquill @love-affair-with-fandoms @graciexmarvel @amb11 @t0fudaddy @reigndropss @wondeerfull @multifand0m-gal0re @bfences @hypnoash @chronic-aly @wheresarizona @pedropascalsx @xocalliexo @myswficlist @untitledarea @lexloon @bbyanarchist @alwayslurkinginthebackground @rocketrhap3000 @fishingforpike @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @echoshxdows @sunshytea @janedartist @supernaturalgirl20 @know-that-its-delicate @forresway @kanyeasap @inlovewfictionalmen826 @jaspaddjarin

465 notes · View notes

gasolinerainbowpuddles · 7 months

Text

𝕂𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕥𝕠𝕓𝕖𝕣 🎃💦 ∘₊✧ 𝔻𝕒𝕪 𝟡 ✧₊∘

|| ︶꒦꒷𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕥𝕠𝕓𝕖𝕣 𝕞𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥꒷꒦︶ | main masterlist ||

@absurdthirst's Kinktober 2023 Prompts

Day 9: Slutwear, Squirting/Cumshots, Prostitution/Camming/Sex-for-Service

𝐀 𝐇𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐩-𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐚𝐥

| PAIRING(s): neighbor!Joel x haunted house organizer!neighbor | RATING: explicit material | 18+| WORD COUNT: 3.2k (jfc this one really got away from me) | CONTENT: no outbreak AU // we're gonna assume Sarah is old enough to be out of the house, two spooky idiots vibing with each other, mock arrangement of sexual favors for Halloween props | SYNOPSIS: In the 5th year of running your free to the neighborhood haunted house, your contractor neighbor Joel Miller expresses interest in participating.

The garage door was open, but Joel still knocked. “Hello?”

When you didn’t answer, he tried again. A few heavier knocks later and he heard footsteps scrambling his direction. You emerged from the doorway with strands of hair stuck to your forehead and a single overall strap securely snapped. He avoided looking at your tight sports bra underneath, for the most part.

“Hi, I’m so sorry. I was sanding something and didn’t hear you at first, I don’t think,” you greet him breathlessly.

“Nah, you’re fine, you’re fine,” he waves away your fretting. “Figured you’d be workin’ on somethin’ for all this.” He eyes the transformation in progress. He reaches out to tap one of the ghoul’s sinister, bony fingers from where it floats on the ceiling.

“Oh, yeah. It’s always sort of crazy this time of year,” you admit with a shy grin. “I, uh, I can move my car from the street if it’s–”

“Nah, I ain’t one of those,” he laughs. “Just always been curious to get a closer look. Seen you workin’ on this over the years. Real impressive stuff.”

You perk up at the positive feedback and note the “Miller Contracting” t-shirt that fits incredibly well across his broad chest. “Oh. Well, thanks. Sorry about the car thing. It’s not like you seem like a party pooper or something, it’s just—”

He waves his hand to interrupt you again. “I know some of the neighbors aren’t crazy about it. Fuck ‘em.”

Your smile goes ear to ear at the easy way he makes you feel confident in your not so typical hobby of having an open haunted house, free of charge to the entire neighborhood every year. It had started out with just your garage and backyard serving as a short walk-through haunted house, but now in your 5th year you’ve incorporated a few of your downstairs rooms into the layout. You slowly added new pieces and props over time, and it had become a huge point of pride for you to see the smiling faces and hear the shrill, excited screams of the patrons.

“Did you, um, want a look around? Have you ever done the haunted house?”

Joel relaxes his shoulders but insists he doesn’t want to impose. You insist right back that he’s more than welcome to see what you’ve got going on. You point to his shirt. “Could probably give me a few tips!”

He follows you as you start to walk into the house again. “Yeah, ‘bout that. Actually sorta why I thought of comin’ by….”

You turn to read his face, but can’t think past the infuriatingly adorable tinge of pink on his cheeks.

“I, uh, would love to make ya somethin’. A prop or somethin’. I’m pretty decent with woodwork, and I think it’s pretty neat what’cha got goin’ on here.” He shrugs, but it doesn’t counterbalance his obvious nerves at offering up his services.

“Are you serious?” you breathe. “You’d make me something? I mean, you really don’t have to do that, but I can’t say it doesn’t sound fucking amazing.”

You’d seen his house before. You’d driven by it enough times to gawk at the beautiful renovations that had been done over time. It was the most gorgeous house on the street by leaps and bounds, and the owner and crafter of said renovations wasn’t so bad to look at, either. You realize you don’t know his name. You offer him yours and hope he’ll return the gesture.

“Joel,” he says firmly. Even his voice sounded deep and strong. He was even more gorgeous up close.

“Joel Miller, of Miller Contracting fame,” you amend with a playful smile and a nod to his shirt.

“The one and only,” he lobs back with a devastating smirk. Oh, the bastard was getting more comfortable around you, so now he was easing into a laid back confidence that made you want to gnaw your own arm off.

“I mean, I’d offer you some complimentary tickets to the haunted house in return, but it’s already free, so….”

He laughs under his breath and shakes his head. “No, no, none’uh that. This is somethin’ I’ve been kickin’ around for the past coupl’a years. Think it sounds real fun. Never really built a dedicated prop piece, but I’d love to take a crack at it if you’d let me.”

Your heart leaps into your throat when he admits he’s thought about your haunted house for years. That he’s wanted to be a part of it in a way for years. It was something born of pure passion and love for Halloween as well as something to nurture your creative side. The thought of Joel wanting in on it made your chest squeeze and balloon.

The rest of the afternoon flows easy with conversation and ideas about additions to your setup. It’s less than a week later when Joel texts you that the piece is almost done if you wanted to come check it out. You force yourself to wait at least 2 minutes before replying in the affirmative.

Joel’s house is even more stunning on the inside. You aren’t sure what stars aligned to get this man to offer you a prop piece at absolutely no cost. You feel like the luckiest person to ever walk the earth. You casually sip the beer Joel offered you while he details all the insanely detailed and impressive work he put into the prop piece he dreamt up with you.

“S’not too shabby, I think,” he nods in approval as he gauges his work. His eyes flash to yours when you don’t respond right away. You’re staring open mouthed at the piece, the shifting gears, the working levers. You can’t even imagine how much something like this would cost at a home improvement store.

“Show me again,” you urge with barely contained glee.

Joel smiles and snaps the lever down, releasing the guillotine and severing the dummy head into the basket. You legitimately clap this time and bob on the tips of your toes. His grin is wide and boyish as he taps a button on the floor with his foot, reeling everything back into place.

“I–I can’t even—HOLY SHIT, JOEL,” you laugh. You run your hands through your hair like you don’t even know what else to do, how else to react.

“Hope it’s not too tall for the–”

“Shutup, Joel, you know it isn’t too tall. You measured, like, 400 times,” you interject.

“I measured three times, but alright,” he chuckles. He looks back and forth between you and the prop. “So, you, uh.. It’s good? Ya like it?”

“It’s amazing!” you gush. A thought crosses your mind that immediately sets off a whole other level of excitement. “Joel, what would you say to operating this opening night at the very least?”

“What? Like, be part of the haunted house? I dunno ‘bout all that,” he mumbles.

“This thing is a work of art! Are you kidding me?! If anybody should be the first to terrorize people with it, it should be the person who made it!” you argue. You stomp across the room and stop dead center in front of Joel. “Seriously. It would be so much fun! You said you’d done the walk-through last year, so you know what you’re getting yourself in to – at least a little bit.”

“You seriously want an old guy like me tryna yank this lever and scare people? I’m more like’tuh throw my damn back out than scare anybody off,” he huffs in a self-deprecating tone.

“Joel,” you snort. “You’re built like a fucking brick shithouse. You’re broad as hell, and you’ve got muscles and all that shit. You’re, like, perfectly intimidating. Put you in an Executioner’s mask, and it’s a done deal!”

Joel smirks and raises a brow. “You think I’m muscular and strong, huh?” he teases.

You flush and swat his arm. “This is the thanks I get for trying to encourage you.”

“Said somethin’ about bein’ broad, too, didn’t’cha?” he adds as he bites back a smile.

“I’m just trying to flatter you so you’ll make me more free props,” you deadpan.

Joel coughs up his sip of beer in a laugh. “Damn, maybe I should make you pay for this after all,” he muses in false contemplation.

“Hey now, let’s not get hasty,” you giggle. You put your hands out to your sides in mock surrender.

“Typical. Shoulda known I was gettin’ fleeced. Suddenly it’s a ‘you scratch my back, and I’ll scratch yours’ kinda deal, huh?,” he teases.

“Nobody is conning anybody. You scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours! You give me a head—” you pat the decapitated prop head for emphasis “—I’ll give you head!”

Joel’s eyes widen with an amused sparkle. His eyebrows shot up at the same time as the corner of his mouth lifted devilishly. “Well now we’re talkin’!” he chortles.

Your face is on fire. You must have gone through every shade of red that Crayola has created. “Ohhh my god. Jesus christ. OH MY GOD, please— I’m so– I can’t–,” you sputter. You slap a hand over your forehead. “That was so fucking embarrassing and inappropriate. Joel, I’m so sorry. I can’t believe—”

“Whoa now, relax. S’alright. Just a bit of teasin’,” he reassures you once he realizes you’re actually mortified at the half slip-up half failed attempt at humor. “S’all in good fun, okay? No need to get bent outta shape.”

You chance a look at him with an absolutely humiliated expression and find his playfully warm eyes waiting for you.

“C’mon, don’t be like that,” he tuts and knocks a hand against your arm gently. “Was funny as hell. Needed a good laugh, so thanks for that, sweetheart.”

As if your face wasn’t already ablaze, the casual petname makes your heart stammer. You were not going to survive this man.

“Alright, everybody, we got a 20 minute interval, so get yourself some water and a quick snack if you need one,” you announce to the group of volunteers. Frightening clowns and ghostly figures waddle and stroll into the inner rooms of the house not being utilized in the haunted house.

You glance around only to find Joel doing the same. You smile and walk up to him.

“So the girls didn’t talk you into the shirtless get-up, huh?” you giggle.

Joel rolls his eyes through the black mask obscuring his face.

“So, is Mister ‘I’ve scared more kids in one night than any other scene volunteer in the past 4 years combined’ enjoying himself? Or do you need to make a couple more 12 year olds pee their pants before you’re ready to admit it?”

Joel lifts the fabric mask over his head and grins at you. “Like you’d give me all that credit. Already heard you earlier talkin’ ‘bout how I got the ‘good corner’ that’s out of sight until it’s too late.”

“Yeah, that’s true. Probably would’ve only made two 12 year old piss themselves so far if you weren’t given the good corner,” you shrug. “Oh well, that’s what special treatment gets ya.”

He laughs and runs a hand through his sweaty hair. Your stomach lurches with want.

“So am I hired or what?”

“Hired? Hm, no, that implies pay, and you’re not getting paid,” you reason with a giggle.

“Damn. Free props and free labor. I’m gettin’ the short end of the stick, I think,” he mock gripes.

You feel a twinge of guilt even though you know he’s joking. He had already supplied you with an amazing element for the haunted house, and you’d sort of strong-armed him into acting in one of the sets tonight. “You know if you really did end up feeling like you should get some sort of compensation, I’m sure I could come up with, like, a payment plan or something,” you offer.

“Dunno, I’m still pretty interested in that offer of head,” he quips.

Your head inches back in a jerk as you snort in surprise. “Oh?”

Joel instantly shifts into apology mode and expresses his regret at the tasteless joke.

You put up a hand to stop his frenzied blabbering. His mouth hangs open with panic, but he stops talking. You force a swallow past the ball of nerves in your throat and inch closer to him. You graze the tips of your fingers against the shiny polyester costume stretching across his chest.

“What if… what if I was interested in getting to know you better? In the kinda way that that joke about … ‘scratching each other’s backs’ isn’t really a joke?” You fan your fingers across his pec and work up the nerve to look up at him.

His dark eyes study your face for a moment before a hand snakes across your lower back and pulls you closer. “Then I’d say you got yourself a pro bono prop master and scene volunteer, sweetheart.”

You break into a nervous fit of giggles and glance at the clock. Only 15 minutes until everyone is due back to their places. “Come with me,” you whisper. You grab Joel’s hand and lead him upstairs via the rear staircase. You guide him through the dark and into your bedroom.

The moment the backs of your knees hit the mattress, you tug Joel down on top of you. He settles onto the bed with an oomph and quickly gains his bearings. His hands are all over you, and you thank the high heavens that neither of you are wearing any face makeup for a costume. One less thing to worry about as you hungrily lick into one another’s mouths.

You turn Joel onto his back against the mattress and tug at his garments until you shimmy his belt and jeans loose. He shoves them down enough to free his cock. It stands at attention with a weighty bob.

“Fuck,” you gasp. “I would’ve done this sooner if I knew you had such a big dick!”

Joel erupts into laughter at your lewd candor, and you giggle while shushing him. “Shutup before somebody hears us and comes upstairs to check on the noise. I’ve only got about 10 minutes to suck you off.”

“Fuck, you really doin’ it? You don’t hafta–”

You cut him off by taking him as far into your mouth as you can. He makes a strangled hissing sound, his arms flailing as they search for something to grab hold of. One hand settles on the back of your head, and the other grips the sheets. You shove a hand down your pants and insert two fingers into yourself. Joel made the most obscenely divine noises you’d ever heard.

You don’t let up as you work his length in your mouth, not quite able to take him all the way without your gag reflex going into overdrive. He gives you a few polite seconds of warning that he’s about to come, and you ready your mouth at his tip while stroking him up to his climax. His hips jerk as he unloads into your mouth, grunting obscenities and praises.

You swallow and pull off him with a smug grin. You watch him catch his breath in the rays of light from the streetlamps. You shimmy back up to his face and capture his mouth in a deep kiss. He groans at the taste of himself on your lips, groping and grabbing at you. He rolls you off to the side and yanks your pants down without warning. His fingers slide through your soaked folds before pausing at your entrance.

“Fuck, yes please,” you beg. He stretches you with two fingers and only pumps a few times before you’re clenching around his digits. You come down from your high enough to realize it’s not long before you need to be back downstairs. “Should at least earn me a couple of smaller props, no?” you pant.

He snorts and rests his forehead against your chest. “Guess we can work out a bartering system,” he jokes back.

You both take a moment to get yourself together before heading back downstairs. The rest of the night is an absolute blast, and you revel in the excited compliments over your newest addition of the Cursed Souls of the French Revolution room, many comments centering on a certain terrifying Executioner who was very good at his role.

The last walk-through group empties out onto the street, and you close up for the night. Another successful event with a few more nights this week to show off your best haunted house yet. When the last volunteer other than Joel heads out, you turn to shower your breakout star with all the feedback and fanfare he’d garnered.

He’s slow to accept the praise, but after a while you beat him down enough to accept a few of the milder compliments. You sit side by side on the couch, watching a classic horror film as you count up the donations you’d earned throughout the evening. You count the last bill and tally it up on your sheet before tucking it away in the metal cash box.

Joel grips an arm around you and tugs you into his chest. “Got enough for your next big idea, or are we gonna have to figure out another form of payment?” he asks with a suggestive wink.

“Think I came up short on the cash. Damn,” you mutter in feigned disappointment.

Joel grins at your tongue-in-cheek humor but pauses after a moment. “Thank you, by the way. For lettin’ me join up with all this. It was really fun. Not used’tuh doin’ stuff like this, but I’m real glad I worked up the nerve to walk up to your garage that day,” he admits in earnest.

“Yeah,” you agree with a breathy laugh. “Me, too, Joel.”

His thumb caresses the top of your cheekbone as he considers you. “Meant when I said I’d like’tuh get to get more involved with it. With… with you,” he stammers.

Your chest feels warm and cozy. You can’t help yourself with what comes out of your mouth next. “Is this your way of asking me to be your ghoul-friend?”

Joel shuts his eyes and throws his head against the top of the couch. “Now I know I’ve got it bad for ya when that ain’t enough to send me hightailin’ it outta here,” he groans.

“Okay, you do one to me and see if I’ve got it bad for you, too,” you suggest.

Joel thinks for a moment then grins to himself. He turns his head your direction and delivers a classic. “If you’re my ghoul-friend, does that mean I get to see your boo-bies?”

You both lose it over the awful jokes and barely manage to get yourselves back under control long enough to speak full sentences again.

“Okay, it’s official. We’ve both got it very, very bad for each other,” you declare as you wipe a tear from your eye.

“Guess I’ll just have to live with that,” he says softly.

“Yeah, guess we’ll both just have to learn to deal with it,” you chuckle under your breath.

The rest of the movie plays to a distracted audience as you and Joel mess around on the couch well past the credits rolling across the screen.

This was way too much fun to write. I hope y'all don't mind me playing fast and loose with some of these kinks lmao.

This idea originally came from some Joel characterization ideas that I guess made quite the impression on me. This particular fic drew inspiration from my last idea on the list:

🛠 🪵 🎃 prop maker Joel who admires your open to the public haunted house you construct every year. he offers to make you a prop piece, free of charge. you both love Halloween.

The temptation to write more of those silly ideas into my kinktober shit is super strong ngl. Whatever you do, don't encourage it. Don't you dare suggest I make a poll for which character should get which trope. DON'T YOU DARE.

catch ya later, ♥Puddles♥

#joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller tlou #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters

89 notes · View notes

dancingtotuyo · 9 months

Text

Buy me Books and Call me Pretty (Joel Miller)

Part 3 of Build You the World Joel X Reader Rating: PG-13 (language and some sexual content) Warnings: some sexual references, lots of fluff Tags: pre outbreak/no outbreak, fluff, craftsman!joel, 90s references and thriving, were in 1997 folks! Words: 3000

Series Master List | Author Master list

You were gone for the week, a work trip to Dallas extended for a coworker’s bachelorette party. The first time Joel was home alone with both kids for more than a night. The first time you’d left Asher for more than a weekend. And that nook needed sprucing.

Joel had been planning it for years if he was being honest. You’d made the best you could out of it. Mismatched shelves from the thrift store, a large chair to curl up in, your paperbacks stacked and meticulously piled in overflow, your collection had outgrown the current capacity.

Joel spotted you in the corner, untouched cocktail in front of you, staring at your pager. He’d left Sarah at home with a babysitter and taken a night for himself. Picking his beer up off the bar, he walked straight toward you.

Okay, it needed more than sprucing. It needed a complete makeover. Joel had settled on the design the night before you left, the sketches filling his notebook for weeks.

He’d almost filled the notebook you gave him with woodworking projects. The finalized project rested just a few pages from the back.

When you first brought up this trip, he’d known this was his chance to surprise you. He’d wanted to do it since you moved in.

“What’s a guy gotta do to be worth your time, Darlin?”

You looked almost startled to find him at the end of your table. You sized him up. Dark curly hair, big brown eyes, and the kind of ruggedness one only gets from working outside with their hands.

You glanced back down at your pager and things didn’t feel so bad anymore. Wherever this guy was, he obviously wasn’t worth your time anymore. You grinned, pager and late date forgotten.

“Buy me books and call me pretty.”

Joel grabbed a cardboard box and a pile of books. Best to get started while Asher was asleep and Sarah distracted. Operation Book Nook was ago.

Taking care of two children by oneself was a difficult thing. Taking care of a curious 8-year-old and a rambunctious 2-year-old in a partial construction zone was damn near impossible. Joel estimated he was at least a day behind where he needed to be if not more. Friday it hit him, the hope of having the nook completely finished before you got home was beginning to look like a pipe dream. You were due back on Sunday afternoon. He’d just finished installing everything. There were some areas that needed a little more sanding and the whole thing needed to be stained with at least 2 coats. The stain needed to dry for at least a day before, preferably 3, before he put any books on it, preferably longer. It would probably put a damper on his grand gesture if he ruined your books in the process. There was still the matter of the project on the final page of his notebook.

The kids missed you. It was affecting their moods. Sarah had been mopey since Thursday. Asher had been downright inconsolable, attached to Joel at the hip, quite literally insisting to be held every waking moment. Asher had cried at daycare all-day Thursday. Joel had picked him up early. Joel canceled his job this morning and elected to keep him home at the very strong suggestion of the workers. He’d tucked both children into your shared bed tonight.

Hell, he missed you too. He wanted to call you up and cry, but he didn’t. You’d called every night. Every night he told you they were doing fine, they missed you, have fun.

“Ever played pool?” Joel’s thigh brushed yours in the booth. He was close enough you could smell him: sawdust and dirt. It was intoxicating on its own.

“I’m not very good.”

He squeezed your thigh. “Then I’ll have to teach you.”

Joel eyed the phone. He hadn’t talked to you without the kids since Tuesday. It was almost 11. You were probably out with the girls celebrating. It wouldn’t hurt to call your hotel room all the same.

Joel set his tools down, walking over to the landline. The front desk transferred him to your room. It rang a few times and Joel was sure you weren’t there.

You weren’t kidding when you told Joel you were bad at pool. It was embarrassing how bad you were, and you could see it on his face too. All you could do was laugh.

“I warned you.”

“I don’t think “not very good” covered it, Darlin.”

You fought the shivers from his deep drawl. You stepped into his space. “Then I guess you have a lot to teach me.”

His hands settled on your lower back, pulling you close. “With pleasure.”

“Hello?” You sounded like you’d been sleeping.

“You picked up.” Joel sounded surprised.

Your laugh crackled through the phone line. “I did, baby. Everything okay?”

“Yeah, just wanted to hear your voice is all.”

“Two long distances calls in one day.” You smiled. “I miss you too.”

“You having fun?”

“I suppose. Melissa got us kicked out of the bar before 10. She’s plastered. Glad I splurged for my own room is all I can say.”

“Did I wake you?”

“No.” You stifled a yawn.

“Liar.” Joel grinned, he rested his back against the wall.

You rolled your eyes, settling back in bed. “It’s good to hear your voice too.”

“Got big plans for tomorrow?”

“I’m sure they’ve got something planned. I don’t know if I can keep up with them anymore.” You laugh. “Apparently having two kids turns you into an old woman.”

Joel felt that familiar tug on his heart he did every time you mentioned your kids. Not singular, plural. The same one he felt every time Sarah called you mom.One would think it would go away over time, but it hadn’t. “We’ll be old together then.”

“That reminds me, we’ve got to plan your 30th birthday party.”

Joel groaned. “Just you and me and the kids, baby. That’s all I need.”

“No Tommy?” You teased.

“Maybe I’ll kidnap you away for the weekend. Go to the beach or somethin. Just the two of us.”

Joel’s lips dipped to your ear. “Wanna get out of here?”

Just that question had your thighs squeezing. “Yeah.”

Threading his fingers through yours, he pulled you out of the bar.

“Just the two of us, huh?” You sighed, imagining the warm sun on your face and Joel’s tanned abdomen. “Sounds nice.”

“We could-” Joel stopped, the small thud of little feet on the stairs meeting his ears.

“We could what?”

He glanced around the corner. Asher took the stairs one by one. A hand clutched the banister above his head, the other his blanket. His dark hair was tousled from sleep, much in the same way Joel’s did. He looked barely away.

“I’ve got to go babe. One of our monsters woke up.”

You stretched out in the bed. You’d been excited to have a bed to yourself for this trip, but you were missing Joel’s too-hot body heat next to you. “Okay, I love you.”

“I love you too. Sleep good.”

“You too.”

Joel hung up. Asher’s feet had just hit the bottom step when Joel scooped him up. “You’re supposed to be asleep, little mister.”

Asher nuzzled into his neck as Joel rubbed his back ascending the stairs. “Woke up.”

“I see that.” Joel chuckled, kissing his cheek. He was certain his son would be asleep in a few minutes.

You parked your car in front of the house. Set in the suburbs, it looked cozy and not at all what you expected from the bachelor you’d followed here. Come to think of it, you weren’t sure what you expected. It looked almost domestic. Panic coursed through your bones. He wasn’t married, right? There’d been no ring, no tan line.

Joel tapped on the hood of your car before pulling up the driver’s side.You stepped out and his hands were instantly around your waist. He pressed you between his body and your sedan adding kindling to the simmering embers in your blood. He kissed you long and slow, nothing like any one night stand before. Those were usually about taking what you needed from the other person. This felt like giving.

Joel pulled back, thumb rubbing your side softly. “So, full- disclosure.” Joel looked nervous. Your chest tightened. “I have a daughter. She’s 3 and I have to go pay the babysitter before I carry you upstairs.”

“Oh- No wife though?”

Joel chuckled, pressing his forehead to yours, his voice sinfully low. “No wife, fiance, girlfriend.” His hand crept up your sternum, cupping your breast. “Just you, baby.”

You would’ve fucked him right there against your car for the whole neighborhood to see shamelessly.

He gave you a surprisingly chaste kissing before pulling away. “You can wait out here for the babysitter to see you, or you can wait in the garage.” He winked backing up the paved driveway.

You laughed, locking your car and following him into the garage.

“This’ll only take a minute.” He disappeared inside.

You immediately took the opportunity to snoop around. It reminded you of your dad’s garage, tools on the wall, more no doubt filling the industrial tool boxes, messy work benches covered in sawdust, a table saw. You knew he was a contractor who did new build construction, sometimes just the framing, sometimes until the house was completely depending on the project. You wondered what he worked on here.

The door collecting the house to the garage popped open. You hardly got a glimpse of Joel before he pulled you inside. Your back hit the door. His lips attacked yours. You cupped his face, willing him to never pull away. His tongue slid across your bottom lip. His hand crept around the back of your thigh, fingers squeezing and spreading. Desire hazed over your senses as you hooked your leg around his waist.

He pulled back and you wanted to scream. He winked at you, shut off the lights, and then picked you up, putting you over his shoulder. You yelped before slamming a hand over your mouth. It would do no good to wake up his kid. Joel laughed. “Let me get you behind closed doors before you start that now.”

Sarah was curled up in the comforter on your side of the bed. It swallowed her, the satin of her bonnet peeking up was the only cue she was actually in the bed. Joel laid down, settling Asher in beside him.

He let out a sigh of relief as the bed began to release the pressure on his tight back. His eyes grew heavy. Asher tucked into his side. He could rest his eyes for a few minutes.

Your heart rate was just returning to normal. Joel had tugged you back into bed before you could do the awkward shuffle of searching for your clothes and waiting for him to invite you to stay. Your limbs tangled together. He pressed kisses across your shoulder blades. “Sarah wakes up pretty early, so I’ll probably have to sneak you out of the house…” He kissed your neck, right under your ear. “But I want you to stay.”

Your heart fluttered in your chest. You ignored that. Now wasn’t the time to analyze it. You sighed as his fingers raised goose bumps up your side. “Your bed is softer than mine.” You nuzzled into the pillow. Your eyes felt like rocks and your limbs like noodles.

Joel chuckled. He pulled the comforter over the two of you. “Happy to hear that, darlin.” He kissed your cheek. It all felt so domestic.

“Daddy?”

“Shit.” Joel cursed under his breath. The comforter fell over your head. “Sarah, what are you doing up?”

“I had a bad dream.”

There was a thud. Did Joel fall out of bed? You pictured him on the floor, scrambling for his boxers and fought back a laugh.

“Can I sleep in here with you?”

“Not tonight, sweetheart.” Their voices drifted until you heard the click of a door. You stayed under the comforter to be sure, biting your fist to control your laughter.

You knew when Joel’s bedroom door shut. The lock clicked into place this time. You let your giggles free. He pulled the comforter back. “So you think this is funny?” You heard the amusement in his tone.

“Did you fall out of bed?” The comforter shook with your laughter.

He ripped the comforter off, making you gasp. “Joel, it’s cold!”

He crawled on top of you. “Don’t worry. I plan on warming you right up.”

Joel sighed wearily as he opened another can of wood stain. Last night’s brief eye rest had turned into a full 8 hours of sleep. Joel had woken up to the sun warm on his back, Asher’s foot in his face, and Sarah’s soccer game in 30 minutes.

He’d started staining this evening, opting to get his other project finished. The wooden cube sat on his nightstand, complete. You’d bought a wood burning kit a year or so ago, burning designs into his scrap wood. You’d started selling sets of coasters to a small shop in Austin. He’d saved one of your first test pieces. It had your initials and anniversary date burned into it. You’d tossed it out. He’d fished it out, making plans to use it in a future project.

He’d just finished the first coat of stain. Since he’d bitten off more than he could chew with this project, the first area he’d stained was ready for its second coat.

Whether it was the monotony of his task or the hum of the radio, Joel didn’t hear you come in. You set your suitcase down in the kitchen, the music and light form the living room drawing you in like gnats to a porch light. You’d planned on covering his eyes or jumping on his back to surprise him with your early arrival until you saw what he was working on.

Built-in, floor-to-ceiling bookshelves lined the far wall, wrapping into the nook you’d turned into your reading area. The bottom half of the shelves were turned into cabinets for other storage. You couldn’t wait to relocate the stack of games out of the coat closet.

“Oh my god.”

Joel whipped around. He wore his ratty old painting t-shirt and a pair of work jeans, but you were sure he’d never been more attractive.

“What are you doing home, Darlin?” He set the can of stain and his paintbrush down. “You weren’t supposed to be home until tomorrow.”

“I missed my family.” You smiled.

Joel pulled you into a hug, pressing a kiss to your forehead. It felt like forever since you’d been with him. It hit you. This had been the longest you’d gone without seeing him since you’d made things official.

“I missed you too, baby.” He smiled at you cupping your cheeks like he couldn’t believe you were real.

“You gonna kiss me or not, Miller?”

He laughed, obliging your request. You pulled him close. The 6 days you were gone felt like a lifetime as you pulled him closer.

When he pulled back, it was too soon. You started to pout until the bookshelves caught your eye again. “You did this?”

“It’s not finished. I thought I could get it all done before you got back.”

“Baby, it’s gorgeous.”

Joel’s craftsmanship had improved exponentially over the last couple years. He’d always been good, but as he leaned into the craft, his skill had grown.

You reached out to run your hand across the shelf. Joel stopped you. “Unless you want wood stain on your fingers.” He held up his hand for show. “I’d wait.”

You laughed, giddy as you kissed him again. “I love it, and I love you.”

“Only because I buy you books and call you pretty, right?”

“And build me bookshelves.”

Joel kissed you, not planning to stop until he remembered. His heart rate rose as nerves filled him. “There’s one more surprise.”

“What?”

“Stay right here.” He said. He rushed out leaving you there.

You started to wonder what he was up to, but were quickly side tracked by your new bookshelves. The more you looked at them, the more you loved them. He’d added the detailing you loved, the same one on the nightstands he’d built you for your birthday and the living room coffee table.

Joel’s arm wrapped around your midsection. His warm breath tickled your ear. You leaned into him. “You moved.”

“I’m still in the same vicinity. I had to check out your handiwork.”

Joel smiled. “Here.”

A small wooden box appeared before you. “What is it?”

“You gotta open it, Darlin.”

Grabbing the box, you faced him. “You made this too?” A smile crept onto your face.

“I made the box.”

The world felt like it stopped while he waited for you to open it. It felt like you knew like you were just teasing him, making him sweat it out. When you finally opened it, your eyes went wide. A gold band with 3 glistening diamonds, a modest-sized center stone with two smaller ones on either side, sat in the box, not that you could really make that out through your tears.

Joel was already on his knee when you looked back at him. He smiled, taking your hand. “Joel Miller, what are you doing?” It was a stupid question. You knew what was happening.

“I’m making an honest woman out of you.” He grinned and you laughed. “You know I’m not good with words, darlin. I planned to be dressed a little nicer than this too. But I love you. I love our life together. I love our kids, and I think it’s time we all share a last name… Will you marry me?”

“Yes.”

And before Joel could get off his knee, you were on yours, kissing the living daylights out of him.

#joel miller #tlou #the last of us #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #Pedro Pascal #build you the world

137 notes · View notes

itsoutrageouss · 3 months

Text

Like a bellflower - chapter two

chapter two of like a bellflower, a Joel Miller x Fem!Oc fanfiction

warnings: blood, violence, clickers, typical tlou things

words: 2,4k

Story taglist // chapter one

2. No ammo, no sleep

✿✿✿

The soles of my feet were aching. We hadn’t spoken since he gave me his name. I tested it wordlessly on my tongue, joel, joel joel. Lot of tongue work in the name. As we walked, the sun baked over os, glaring peacefully at the destroyed land around us. The suburb houses with vines snaking over the woodwork, a firefly mark on one of them, I noted.

Joel didn’t stop, or talk so I didn't either. I hadn’t felt this kind of peace in a while, I noted. Since that day, that damned day when Kade found me, nothing but terror had reigned in my body. It still did, creeping and simmering in the backbones of my body, under the waves it bubbled but I left it undisturbed for the time.

As we moved, I thought it more and more ridiculous that the horse wasn’t used to carry at least one of us- I understood fully that it's a lovely companion to have just in itself but in today's world survival and practicality came first, and anything could be used as something it wasn’t. And I knew for a fact that horses were often used to carry people.

I think Joel saw it in my face, when he from time to time looked over the horse to make sure I was still there, and saw my envious glare on the bag that was strapped over the horse. He too didn’t say anything. I felt like I was playing a game with him. Maybe if I lost and talked first he’d leave me on the roadside and ride off. Just the thought made a rush of anxiety shoot up my throat and into my mouth, my teeth clenching down hard on nothing.

I think hours went by. I put a hand on the warm, moving body of the chestnut horse and closed my eyes, letting it lead me forward. I imagined I was back in Spain. Lovely, warm Spain with the orange trees and the stone courtyards. The sun was the same that had shone on my child-self in the rural part of the country, as well as in the city, when it would peak through church bells swinging back and forth. Sometimes I wondered, if we hadn’t gone back to the US for those couple of months -we pendled back and forth between America and Spain ever since i was born- life would’ve been different. My dad loved Spain more than anything- he would’ve gotten around better than we did here. But of course, doing a worldwide pandemic no flight would take us back. Now I knew I would never get to see the beauty of it again, and I didn't dare think of how it looked now; drowned in the dust of ruin and violence. I imagined the entire country had been enveloped by an impenetrable bubble. Everything there would be the same, spanish men with tan skin and loud laughs, nuns with kind smiles, dusty cats snaking around your ankles in the plazas.

“Belle?” Joel's gruff voice shook me from my daydream, and I realized that my eyes had been closed the entire time. When i opened them again, joel was in front of me, blocking the bright sun that now shimmered around his shadow like he was an angel.

“Hm?”

“If you’re needing anything, now is the time to stock up,” he said, moving out of the way. We were at the foot of a bigger city. The kind with skyscrapers that had cracked halfway down like an old tree in a storm. The kind where plants had overgrown over every surface. Despite everything, the plants thrived and looked more beautiful than when us humans had control over the world. Now we felt like subjects to nature again.

“Okay.” I needed ammo. I actually didn’t have any left. When I had pointed my gun at Joel, it was as empty a promise as it could be. All I could've done was throw it at him really hard. Maybe he knew.

“You need ammo,” he said bluntly and started walking. Yes, he definitely knew. I sighed. An old convenience store snaked around the first corner we came to. The windows had been smashed and it looked dark and wet inside. This city might be infected by thousands, I thought. I pulled out a little knife from my belt.

“Behind me,” Joel ordered, and his broad shoulder obstructed my view, his hands up and steady around his gun, back held tightly in suspense as we opened the door. Strangely enough, the little bell still worked and rang loudly as Joel opened the door. We were greeted, unluckily. A hoarse, broken sound of something once human screeched out as soon as we stepped inside.

“Hide,'' Joel hissed, pushing me to the side behind an old rack of magazines. I nearly slipped on the dirty tile floor, wet with mud and blood and footprints. I snaked along the isles and pressed up against the corner. Joel was ahead, peering out behind the magazines. Clicking noises. They made shivers dance up my spine and I had to stop my body from crawling in on itself. On my left, between the back wall and an old produce aisle, I heard a low snarl and a click click click. Those noises were impossible for any human to make, ear piercing even when whispered.

Joel moved swiftly and I whipped my head around to see him charge forward and out of my sight. If he didn’t know about the second clicker, it would come at him unprepared when the other would howl into its death. And I couldn’t tell him. I clutched the knife until the bones in my hand shook and left footsteps of mud as I ran the other way from Joel. I didn’t have time to strategise, or sneak because I heard the roar of the other clicker. It was like the sound activated something in me because I hurled onto the other clicker, stabbing with all my might into the stringy, meaty neck of the monster. The feel of the knife penetrating through flesh ripped through my hand, but I did it again. And again. Its arms flailed out trying to pry me off by scratching along my legs. Being clamored to such a nasty creature made me want to run; fast, hard and far. Instead I stabbed it over and over wherever the knife would hit, hoping it wouldn’t tear my own skin on accident. A pair of very human hands grabbed the creature's head and flung it to the ground, shaking me off simultaneously. I fell flat on my ass while Joel put one last stab in its back and the sounds died out with a painful wheeze.

The palms of my hands burned where they had scraped the ground, blood mixing with mud.

“Are you okay?” Joel asked, his gun pointed to the ground, though he still held it tight to his body, peering out the broken glass and into the backrooms of the kiosk. I reached up, and to my surprise tears were warm on my cheeks again. I really had to stop crying so much. I nodded and went to stand up. My bones had seemed to liquify and I might've fallen into a puddle, like spilled ice cream if I tried moving.

I was so tired. My body had been on high alert ever since- ever since I killed all those people, and Kane found me on the ground. At that moment I hated that I didn’t have any bullets. He thought I was dead, but I scattered like a mouse when he tried to ransack me for stuff. I surrendered fully to him and his group- the only people around me that hadn’t died.

“Hey! Are you hurt?” Joel asked, louder and seemingly annoyed at my lack of response.

“No.” I didn’t have any wounds, at least. With a slipping grip I held onto the aisle shelves and dragged my skeleton up. A handprint of dark blood was left on the white, shiny metal. I didn’t want to look at it, and didn’t want to know how I looked, splattered in blood and tears. I bet my hair was all messed up. I liked to be clean in this unsanitary world but found it increasingly harder as time went by to uphold the same face and delicacy as before. My personal battle with the world; I was a restorer of softness in a place where everything was dirty and old. It was an art I felt everyone around me had left behind- the small joys and beauties of caring for yourself. Nice smells, blooming flowers, red cheeks.

I started, realizing I was just standing, with no purpose or expression. Joel was growing impatient and I picked up my knife, sheathed it after cleaning it thoroughly.

Joel had already moved along into the next room.

“You needed ammo?” he asked, muffled behind walls. I puffed up my chest and willed my feet to move. The room was dark and humid. His back was turned to me, broad and bending over crates.

I didn’t want more ammo, truth be told. “Yes. I don’t have any at all, actually.”

“What gun do you have?” he was rummaging still, pulling things out and placing them in a bag. I didn’t know.

“This one,” I muttered, fishing it out and holding it flat in my palm, balancing it carefully without touching it. The blood on my hands was staining and creasing in the lines of my palm.

He only took a look at it before turning back around. I went to put the pack of ammo into my bag. The cardboard was wet and the bullets nearly fell from the absolving encasement.

“You’re supposed to put them in the gun, you know?” Joel said with a brow raised. The scarce hint of amusement and sarcasm was the most emotion he’d expressed in the last 8 hours of knowing each other. It made me nervous, i felt ridiculous because obviously they were going in the gun but i'd rather put it off. I fumbled and the cardboard fell apart beneath my fingertips and bullets scattered onto the tiles, clanging loudly. Joel raised a hand to silence me, looking around. There was a pregnant pause. No clickers.

I fell to the floor and picked the bullets up one by one, putting them into the holster with gritted teeth. Now it was done. No one said I had to use it just because it was loaded, though that was probably what was expected of me. Joel kept looking at me as if he was trying to figure something out. I didn’t want him to figure anything out so I headed back out into the sun. I felt his eyes following me, and once again I hid behind the horse. The trusty, big horse that divided us. I felt the muscles of its stomach contract under my palm as I smoothed along its side where the sun had hit. It felt the dust that clung to its coat, sweeping it off meticulously until the chestnut brown shone brightly.

“What’s your name pretty?” I asked sweetly, feeling the unmatched softness of a horse's mule. It breathed warm air onto the bare skin of my arm, bowing its head like a greeting to me. Whatever was on Joel's mind, he seemed to have dropped it when he came back.

“Doesn’t have one.” Instead of shying away on the other side of the animal, he stood in front of me, a hand held out waitingly. I screwed up my face in confusion. Did he want me to shake his hand? Give him something?

“You can barely walk straight.” he replied to my silent question. I felt grateful, but I didn’t want him to know that my feet were dying. I wasn’t going to be a bother to him already, especially not if he would start pulling me on the horse like a kid.

“That’s okay, I don’t mind walking,” I smiled, but I couldn't make it reach my eyes. I remember my dad would pull the horse along when we had wandered for nearly two days. I'd lay on its thick neck, watching the trees stroll past with half-lidded eyes. Someone stole our horse, though.

“You follow my rules when you’re with me. We’re riding.” He unbound the horse and got up himself, scooting forward so I could sit behind him. With some awkward difficulty, grabbing Joel's jacket to pull myself up and almost pulling him down, I got up. The horse was big and spacious enough to leave some room between us. My legs tingled with exhaustion; felt light like when you took off a heavy backpack and I fought not to lean forward for something to rest on. I felt the strong body move underneath my legs, shifting us side to side as we rode slowly forward. The sun filtered in and out between the trees as we rode through the city. I peered up at the broken skyscrapers, plants blossoming out of its cracks like the kraken attacking a pirate ship. The horse rocked me like a crib, and with the steady rhythm of hooves, my spine curled more and more. Eventually my head knocked against Joel's back every few minutes. I only took in the world around me in abstract terms, like an art museum. Colors, shapes, sounds, fading in and out of reality. I didn’t even realize when the hooves stopped lulling me to sleep.

“C’mon, scoot,” Joel suddenly wasn’t in front of me, and I nearly fell forward, catching myself on the broad horseback just in time with frail arms. I dragged myself forward drowsily by his command until my hands could reach the thick, warm neck. I felt Joel behind me, his arms encasing my sides as he grabbed the toils again. His legs squeezed the sides of mine to keep me falling. I tried to start myself awake somehow, tried grabbing the toils or lifting my neck that was impossibly heavy like lead.

“Just go to sleep,” Joel's voice was soothing and low, and I'd barely registered his words before I fell backwards into him, head lolling against his shoulder. He didn’t move and I dozed off in a matter of seconds, but not before a little, warm tear rolled down my cheek. I hadn’t felt safe going to sleep for years before now.

✿✿✿

taglist:

@orcasoul @ashhlsstuff @rav3n-pascal22 @anyalc0h0lic @morgaussy @joelmillersblog @frecklefacelm @leqonsluv3r @jasminmariesworld @ilovemybrown-eyedbabygirl @dugiioh

#joel miller #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller ff #joel miller x fem!oc #joel miller x female oc #joel miller tlou #joel miller x oc #tlou #the last of us #the last of us fanfic #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us hbo #pedro pascal #pedro pascal joel #fanfiction

27 notes · View notes

silens-oro · 5 months

Text

Borealis PROLOGUE

Joel Miller x afab!Reader

Cut the ties that bind us My chest will cease to rise Bear in mind my likeness Eternal in your eyes You're my Borealis You're the lines in my brow You're the turning seasons You're the breath in my mouth

Synopsis: After spending the majority of her post-outbreak life with Marlene and the Fireflies, the reader abandons the Denver QZ and the Fireflies altogether with Tommy once they both realize that the organization is losing more ground than it is gaining -that the cause is no longer attainable. One year after finding Jackson, she still finds it hard to acclimate and ends up abandoning Tommy and their complicated past by joining back up with Marlene to head east. Learning the reader wants to return to Wyoming after spending the last five years traversing the country, Marlene has one final favor to ask on her way out.

Word Count: 1,320 Warning: post-outbreak, angst, reader was 18 when the outbreak happened. AN: The first true chapter will be released tomorrow! Please reblog, like, and comment 💗

No “y/n” mentioned.

Series Masterlist The Last of Us Playlist

Late Summer 2018 Jackson, WY

“What is this?” Tommy questioned as he stepped into the little shop you had cleared out for your woodworking studio in the year you had been in Jackson. You were sitting at the table in the corner that usually had precarious stacks of wood that you’d eventually whittle away at, hand holding the receiver as Marlene spoke on the other end of the ham radio that Tommy hadn’t seen before. He said your name softly, but the look on his face held clear betrayal.

“I’ll be there. Over.” You spoke into the receiver, not taking your eyes off of the man who seemed to take up most of the room with his mere presence. You didn’t wait for Marlene to respond as you flipped the switch to the ham radio off. Silence filled the room and the tension began to grow thick in the space that occupied the five feet between you.

“Please tell me that’s not who I think it is.” Tommy broke the silence. “Where did you even get that?” He motioned to the radio. “Maria was very clear when she said no outside contact on the radios. I haven’t spoken to my brother in a year and you’re talking to Marlene under everyone’s noses?”

“Do you genuinely want an answer?” You unplugged the radio from the outlet, placed it in a box, and shoved it under the table.

“Why are you talking to her?” There was only one reason why you’d be contacting Marlene -and it was you contacting her, not the other way around- this Tommy knew.

“I,” You sighed, rubbing the bridge of your nose between two fingers, “I’m done here, Tommy…” Saying the words felt like fire as they left your lips.

“Are you out of your mind?” Tommy took a step forward, head tilting just slightly as if he was gauging your response.

“I will be if I stay here any longer!” Your voice rose, cutting him with a glare. “I don’t expect you to understand-”

“-How can I understand anything when you don’t communicate with me?” Tommy’s voice rose in frustration. “Why are you talking to Marlene?" He repeated. "I want to hear you say it!”

“I’m leaving!” Your voice echoed between the four walls of the small building. Your heart felt as if it was going to pound straight through your chest. “I’m meeting Marlene in Cheyenne and we're going east.” You stood slowly from the rickety chair, but didn’t take any steps to close the space between you and Tommy.

“I can’t stay here.” You spoke with finality.

“And what about me?” Tommy’s expression hardened.

“Tommy-”

“No! Were you even going to say anything or were you just going to take off?” He motioned to your full pack next to the table. Your eyes broke contact with his in shame. A humorless laugh left him when you didn’t answer.

“Why do you insist on doing this to yourself?” You didn’t answer his question. “What are you going to find out there? Huh? You have stability. You have a roof over your head, food in your stomach, clothes on your back, and a safe place to lay your head at night -and you’re trading that for what?”

“Don’t,” You grabbed your pack and went to move around Tommy, but he stepped in your path to block the door.

“Don’t what? Don’t question why you choose to push yourself further into unnecessary misery? Don’t ask why you still refuse to let me in? Don’t ask why it is so fucking easy for you to leave? Don’t what?! You’re going to have to narrow it down for me.”

“I don’t have to explain myself to you.” You spat as you shoved a finger in his face. “I told you that it was a mistake the second I understood your feelings, Tommy. I made myself crystal clear.”

“There’s that self-sabotage that I’m very well acquainted with when it comes to you, ready to rear its ugly head at the first sign of confrontation. Better to cause the pain than be on the receiving end of it, right?” He wasn’t wrong, but that didn’t make his words hurt any less. In the only way you knew how, you doubled down -refusing to give in.

“I told you that I could never give you what you’re looking for. I told you and you still got your feelings hurt. That’s not my fault!” You threw a cabinet open and grabbed the last of your canned goods before kneeling down to your pack and shoving them inside.

“You’re not turning this around on me!” He reprimanded from behind you.

“I’m done with this conversation, Tommy.” You said over your shoulder as you stood up, shouldering the straps of the backpack so they sat comfortably.

“As long as you feel like you have the control, then you’ll be fine, right? That my feelings don’t matter? As long as you can shut yourself down, it doesn’t matter what destruction you leave in your wake. Guess what? I fucking matter!” Tommy shouted, digging a finger into his chest.

“Of course you fucking matter!” You shouted back. “I am acutely aware of how you feel about me, Tommy, and I have never given you the slightest inclination that I reciprocated.”

“Really?” Tommy’s eyes narrowed. “We share a house!”

“-That we were given by Maria!” You argued.

“You sleep in my bed more than your own, for fuck’s sake! When you want companionship -when you decide you can’t spend every night in this shop or out on patrol- you come crawling into my bed, not the other way around, so don’t even fucking start with me about you not reciprocating anything.” Spittle flew from Tommy’s mouth, his frustration and anger radiated off of him in waves. “It may not be conventional, but it is your fucked up way of showing affection. We’ve been through too much together. You wouldn’t have stuck around for so long if you felt otherwise and you know it, so spare me the fucking bullshit.” He narrowed the space between you and brought his hands up to hold your neck on either side. “Please,” Tommy begged, “think about this.” You shook your head.

“This wasn’t a last minute decision, Tommy.” He rolled his eyes, letting you go so he could pace, rubbing his hands over his face.

“Of course it wasn’t.” He said sarcastically. Trying to express what you needed to without having a breakdown was like trying to balance on the sharp edge of a knife.

“I’m crawling in my own fucking skin here, Tommy! I am suffocating! I’m constantly walking on eggshells because I don’t. Fucking. Fit. Everyone here knows it -I know it, Maria knows, and the rest of this fucking town knows it. The only person who doesn’t seem to get it is you!” It took everything in you to not rip your hair out. “I see the way they look at me, Tommy. I hear what they say. This might be home to you, but it isn’t to me. I tried. I tried so hard to adjust, to fit, but I’m coming to terms with the fact that Jackson isn’t meant for me.” You willed the tears away that you could feel building. The feeling of your throat constricting wasn’t something you encountered often, if ever. These types of emotions had no place in the world you lived in, but Jackson was making you soft in ways that you hated.

“At any point in the last year you could’ve said something! Anything! Instead you chose to suffer in silence until it builds up and detonates like it is right now! I don’t care what you say, this isn’t a rational decision and quite frankly, this is one of the dumbest things you’ve done in the five years I’ve known you. Don’t give up your life, your future, for Marlene.”

“Fuck you, Tommy." You shoved past him, picking up your rifle from next to the door. You paused at the door, looking back at the man who held nothing but defeat in his eyes. "I'm not doing this for Marlene."

AN: YEEEEHAW I'm very excited to get this rolling.

#the last of us #joel miller x reader #joel miller imagine #the last of us imagine #the last of us fic #tlou imagine #tommy miller imagine #tommy miller x reader #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller #tlou fic #borealis fic #x reader #angst #reader insert

34 notes · View notes