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the-orange-tabby-cat · 1 day

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The Renegade

joel miller x fem!reader

Summary of the fic: This is why I’m writing to you, Tess. Do you see how much trouble am I? How unstable and not anywhere good for him? I can’t fall in love with him and he can’t get closer, I’m a weak bitch: I’m gonna fall for him if you don’t help me. I walked too many meters of bad decisions before, I can’t cross another ocean. You are my only hope, The renegade - Your parents ask you to try seeing a therapist, Tess, and you agree under one condition: she can't let you fall in love with Joel Miller. A fic in the format of letters, from you to Tess. 🐾

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CW/tags: Explict +18, no outbreak AU, slow burn, fluff, smut, kinda loser reader? lol, implied age gap, coming of age, no use of y/n

Word count of the prologue + chapter 1: 6,4k

A/N: This will be a quick fic, I promise! I needed to take it off my head, it was clogging everything else at this point lol I really wanted an anti-hero protagonist instead of the usual good girls I write. She is messy and adorable at the same time, I'm really proud of how the story is taking shape! Hope you like it!

PROLOGUE

Austin, July 2024

Dear Tess,

You said I could write you in any format as long I’m true to what I’m putting out. That’s some therapist bullshit, but since it’s you reading this mess, I will let it slide. I thought a lot about what to write down for you, not the usual overthinking, more of a “where do I begin?”. Remember, you were the one who told me to write this if I can’t say out loud what it is inside my head while we are in session. This shit is hard, okay?

Let me start by being the smartpants I used to be: the human brain processes a thought faster than one meter per second. If I put together all the meters my brain ran while getting bad ideas, I could now cross the Atlantic Ocean.

Do you remember when you were a kid and your parents told you to avoid certain people? That strange feeling you get when you see a trainwreck of a person, the one that didn’t exactly do something bad, they just are stuck somewhere out of this reality and you think to yourself “I would never get in that position”?

I did get in that position. I’m stuck in that somewhere. For years now.

Wish I could tell you that something horrible happened to me when I was younger, that my mother crushed all my dreams and my dad left one day to buy a pack of cigarettes. What about a strict family or an over-the-top religious one where I’m one of ten kids? Not even close to the truth, I’m an only daughter.

Middle middle class: enough money to live more than comfortably, far from the luscious lifestyle of the riches. I grew up knowing money didn’t come from the trees, I touched some grass, okay? The only thing expected by my kinda-aristocrat parents was that I would achieve academic success prior to a life full of achievements.

Chess competitions, spelling bee trophies (if I make a mistake a few pages down, it’s been a while since it), debate club captain, swimming team… You name it and I did. At seventeen I was voted as “most likely to be successful” and second place for homecoming queen because slutty Katie gave the basketball team a sloppy blowjob after practice. I had a first kiss and gave one bad handjob under the bleachers by that age.

Then university came and nobody, no fucking body, got wowed when I got an Ivy League on my first try. My head was too shoved up my ass to notice life around me. I wasn’t a pretty girl anymore because girls in my class were prettier than me, wasn’t the smartest since I wasn’t a teacher’s pet by just existing.

My classmates didn’t care for me because I had no clue about social etiquette: what alcohol is acceptable to bring to a frat party? How do you pick up guys and let them suck on your tongue? Do you stay inside your dorm room when your roommate is fucking or do you wait outside?

I could do it with being the awkward girl, but not with being less than perfect. By the second semester, I was crying every day in the shower and realized I had no friends, just people who had the same interests as me back home. I tried so hard to become the number one in my class that life became hell the second my teacher gave me a lower score on a significant test.

I left her class and instead of crying, calling my parents to vent, or any other shit, I walked by the first frat house I saw and decided to lose my v card there with any guy that looked remotely cute.

Don’t get me wrong, I couldn’t be a slut if I hadn’t had a penis inside me yet, but I knew that something was boiling up for years. My hand sneaking under my panties after a tiring day, humping on my pillow whenever I got frustrated, even the shoulder massager I got for after swimming practice humming on my clit did it. All I needed was a chance to forget for a moment the hell that was my life.

And I did. A sand blond guy with a shark smile that would fuck anything that moved in his direction, clearly a rich bitch whose parents got his spot in the university. I walked in his direction and took my panties off, put them in his hand, and the next thing I saw he was deep inside of me while I hopped him vigorously.

I cummed so hard that I think saw Jesus, whatever he might be. Not that the guy made me cum, I had an itch for so long that any scratch would do it. Any. After coming down my high it was clear in my mind: I would do anything that I didn’t do before.

Drink until pass out, rob beer from the liquor store, fuck my roommate's hot dad, cheat on a test. Nothing was out of limits. Well, I still had to finish university and never use drugs because that was a hard no for me.

You see, Tess, I’m so good at keeping my promises to other people and ignoring my own needs that I did finish university. Graduated with an honor badge and everything, my parents' wet dream. Expect they no longer knew me and had no clue that I spent four years whoring myself and doing everything to ignore who I used to be.

And this is why on my first day in a big company, a trainee job earned right after college, I vomited inside the bathroom stall during onboarding. A panic attack a week later when my leader delegated some tasks. You give me a few months and my mind went blank the second I started a presentation to the c level board. I ran so fast outside that I fell on the sidewalk, got up, called for a cab, and never came back.

It’s been years since it.

My parents came to you because they still have some hope. I don’t, I think they are being dumb. Yes, I have an Ivy League degree, a bunch of useless skills (except for Mandarin, I can read so fast the menu at a Chinese restaurant) but nothing to do with when I WON’T come back to who I used to be. Do you think I sound miserable now? I’m miserable but I’m free in my kitchenette downtown, with my band t-shirts and two jobs. Living the dream.

Of course I’m fucking lying to you. I hate my life because the bitch running it is so dumb (that’s me, by the way).

It used to be kinda cool. The day I ran from the office was the same day I went straight to the arcade and played Mortal Kombat II so much that I broke the machine’s record. I went there for a full week before the manager, an emo guy looking like a teenager, decided to hire me.

It wasn’t enough to pay for my fancy downtown apartment, the one that got furniture that didn’t come from IKEA, so I had to move to the shithole I’m now. A mini studio in a building so old that if the city trembles, I’m sure that I will be turning into dust.

Years in this life, day after day, and I wasn’t mad about it. I was free, after all. It took about two years for my parents to find out that I wasn’t the prodigious child anymore and they took better than I expected. My mom cried, cursed my name, and asked if someone hurt me but I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I was the one who caused it.

Anyway, you already know this stuff. They told you their side of the story when letting you know that I would be your new patient. What exactly have they told you? About how I never introduced them to a guy and my dad had a very straightforward conversation with me about why lesbians were cool and he would accept me if I was one? Maybe they told you about how I got so drunk one Christmas that end up peeing on the petunias in the neighbor’s yard and my mom thought it was a good idea to tell them I was heavily sedated from a fear of flying? Nobody said it was easy to be an only child.

What you don’t know is that I have a love life, you are welcome. For years I’ve been sleeping around with a married man. I know, I know, shocking! Scandalous! His name is Peter and he is dumb as a door. But the dick is good and he sometimes treats me like a real person. I met him at a bar, gave him a blowjob in the back alley (Katie would be proud) and we see each other every week since.

Remember when I said my family isn’t religious? Thank god because that’s not everything. I have a boyfriend, a real one. It was a scorching day, the AC wasn’t working and I had to put the neckline out a bit before becoming a puddle. That’s when I see him, playing with his friends, having fun, being so fucking broad and handsome… I had to taste it.

Flirted a bit and boom, got him at the back door pumping deep inside of me while I was sitting on a desk. He was amazing, he was making me gooey to the point of screaming in pleasure. Too good to be true, when he was about to come I saw the little golden cross pending from his neck.

The next day he came back, told me how sorry he was, and asked me for an opportunity to show me how good he could be. I thought he wanted a second round, but nope, he wanted me to meet Jesus. I’m a people pleaser, Tess. It has been four months since I’m Mormon Isaac’s girlfriend. Every Sunday I attend the mess, his family knows me and I haven’t slept with him since that first day. It marks also the four months I’m trying to break up with him.

You must think that I ain’t a good person and you are right, I’m not. Not the worst, but for sure not a fucking saint. I don’t come back in my decisions, anyone else with less brain would, but not me. I’m stubborn and deal with the hell I made of my own life. Or used to, because now I’m head over heels for this guy, Tess.

Joel Miller. The stupid hunk who is older, wiser, and hot. Who I can’t stop thinking about since we met. Damn his pretty brown eyes and how they look into my soul. I’m a mess and I need some help dealing with it before he gets into my trap and I destroy him.

This is why I’m writing to you, Tess. Do you see how much trouble am I? How unstable and not anywhere good for him? I can’t fall in love with him and he can’t get closer, I’m a weak bitch: I’m gonna fall for him if you don’t help me. I walked too many meters of bad decisions before, I can’t cross another ocean.

You are my only hope,

The renegade

P.S. I won’t pay you shit, hope my parents paid you enough for this.

CHAPTER ONE

Austin, July 2024

Dear Tess,

Yes, I'm doing well, thank you for your concern, guess the rambling in my last letter got you worried about me. It’s a skill, I’m very good at making people worry. I'm marvelous, splendid, and well, fucked. By our last session, you asked me more details of how I ended up meeting Joel and I said to you “a lady never tells” and you didn't laugh, tough crowd. Let me paint you a picture then.

There are many regulars at the arcade. The asians dudes that go there after Kumon (been there, done that, I feel so sorry for them), the lone wolves of 40+ that still want to feel young since they can't get any pussy and, my favorites, the after-school reruns.

These little fuckers go there every week to burn some steam from their sugary-inflicted bodies, stay until 4 pm and go straight to their houses, to their mom and dad. I'm not bitter, I just hate teenagers.

I'm aware that it sounds like I'm on the wrong career path since they keep my economy going, but fuck it, teenagers give me the creeps. Except for the queers, they are quite nice. I have a baby lesbian (it’s pretty obvious) that I call 3 pm because she comes by this time twice a week, Ellie.

She is probably fifteen or so and everything I wasn't at her age. Firecracker, bossy with a dirty mouth – did I ever tell you that the first time I said “fuck” in front of my parents was after my meltdown? You can get it. One of the only teenagers I got close to if I'm honest. She came by one afternoon, saw Mortal Kombat II, and hasn't left since.

“Who's The Renegade?” She asked me one time, checking out the scoreboard with disgust. Remember I beat the machine record? She was right after me.

“No clue, try harder.” I teased her thinking she wouldn't care and move on with her life, like people do.

But not Ellie, she tried really hard to break the fucking record. Week after week, I watched her trying her best from my glass display while wearing the ugly bowling striped shirt that is my uniform.

I saw him way before he saw me. Doing my regular afternoon routine, cleaning the games with some rubbing alcohol to avoid the sticky hands infecting everywhere, minding my business under the neon light. All good, until I saw broad shoulders (I have a type, okay? Sue me) playing the fucking Mortal Kombat II with Ellie by his side.

Broad, so fucking broad. Dark curls with some gray here and there adorning his ears. I must have made some noise because for a second he looked back and that nose? Yeah, that was the end of me.

“You were close, old man,” Ellie teased as the fight on screen got to an end. He glared at her before looking at his score. “Nah, you're full of shit. Not even close to me or The Renegade.”

“Yeah, if I was spending that much time here I would be second place too,” he groaned before gaining full height. That voice gave me chills as I pretended I haven't heard shit, trying to not sneak a look and failing every time.

And that was it, Tess. Not exactly your meet cute, sorry. He came back maybe three or four times, always polite, nothing else. I thought it would be a silent crush, a small one until I got bored. I’m constantly bored.

My second job is a little less orthodox, if you can call my first one that. A girl has to do what she has to to get that bag. On Christmas, I’m the Santa helper with a mini skirt and sweet smiles (you can imagine how many times I picked up bored dads like that), by Easter, I’m your lucky bunny hopping around in white hot pants, when Thanksgiving is around the corner I’m the sluttiest turkey you ever saw.

The mall manager pays me double because I let him once see my boobs and the poor guy is so lonely that he is more than sure that we will sleep together at some point.

“A vest with “can I help you?” tagline? Where is the skanky clothes?” I asked him one Saturday morning, thinking he made a mistake giving me the day costume.

“We’re getting more boomers and older visitors, we need someone to stay in a good floor spot and answer their questions,” he told me in a boring tone, the sadness in his eyes always a classic.

“Okay, if they ask me questions, what do I do? I don’t know shit about this mall except that you can buy powder by the public telephones and shouldn’t use the ladies bathroom on the second floor, that’s where Nora from Chipotle goes and that woman’s ass is rancid.” He furrowed his brows and dragged his hand on his face, taking his time to process what I had just said.

“Just be nice and bring them to someone who will be helpful, maybe a security guard, I don’t know. And don’t use cocaine while on the job, I can’t deal with another junkie here,” he said reinforcing the vest on my hands and urging me to get out of the room.

Now would be a good time to remind you that I don’t use drugs, never did. I might be many things in this life, but not a stoner. Not because I’m prudish or think drugs are bad for you, even if they are. I’m way too afraid about getting hooked once I realize that the play-pretend reality that they induce in your brain is better than this one. I’m self-destructive, but not stupid.

So there I was, in my lime neon vest, above a small platform with a big dark blue “information” written. Thinking about anything you can imagine, my shift lasts six hours and I can’t sit down, just a fifteen-minute bathroom break. One of my worst nightmares is to be alone with the dumb bitch inside my head, that’s why I hate silence.

When was the last time you went to a mall? They used to be a big deal in my younger days, but now they are dead. It’s so fucking slow, just little packs of people here and there. Not even music playing to alleviate the tension between me and my stupid brain.

“Miss?” A small voice called, I looked to the sides and saw nobody, so they insisted. “Miss?”

I looked down on the platform and to my surprise, a toddler with big brown eyes and curly hair was calling me. Hesitating for a second, I climbed down my platform and crouched to get my eyes the same height as his, I read once that kids get more comfortable like that.

“Hm, yeah?” I asked unsure of how one talks with kids, shouldn’t he be there with an adult?

“I can’t find my uncle,” the poor kid was on the verge of tears, making me panic.

“Okay, let’s find him,” I said with very little confidence, unsure how to approach it.

Before I could think about what I would do, his hand found a place in mine, holding me like an anchor. I decided to go to the nearest security guard and hope for the best, one thing was to be a failure by myself and another was to fail a little kid.

We walked for about five minutes, the fucking mall had a small amount of guards. No fucking clue why nobody comes down there. The kid got a little tired of walking and held up his little arms, asking to be picked up.

I accepted it, letting him rest his head on my shoulder. Thinking about it now, as I write this to you, I can’t remember the last time somebody hugged me. We might need to talk about it in session.

“You tell me if you see him, okay? What does your uncle look like?” I asked still walking down the corridor, searching for the damn guard.

“Big, fluffy hair,” I laughed at how wholeheartedly the kid tried to answer it.

“Blue eyes? Dark hair?” He shook his head for the first one but nodded at the second.

Changing corridor, I saw from afar a big guy and a smaller figure talking with a guard and figured out it was the kid’s uncle. The man seemed agitated, speaking with his hands in the air. As I pressed my steps, the figures got more familiar. Made a signal for the kid, showing them when we were close enough and his face lightened up.

“Uncle Joel!” He shouted happily, as I put him down so he could run to the tall man.

That’s how I found out his name. Simple, discrete, direct. Jo-el. Suits him.

He immediately hugged the boy, kissing the top of his head. Ellie was at the side getting color back on her face, unshed tears in her eyes when she noticed me.

“I know you,” she started and I panicked a little. I don’t know why, I wasn’t doing anything weird, but something about breaking their bubble made me uncomfortable.

Joel looked up from his nephew’s face and furrowed his brows, not in a “who the fuck are you?” kinda way, more of a “wait, I do know you too”.

“Hm, yeah, I work at the arcade down the block,” I said in a monotone, looking into Ellie’s eyes, ignoring Joel’s.

“Are you safe? All good?” Joel asked in a soft tone, much softer than I imagined a man like him could do, to the kid.

“Yes,” the toddler replied searching for my hand again. My eyes got to the size of the moon, unaware of how to react.

“Thank you for helping him, we were about to lose our heads searching for him everywhere.” Joel gave me puppy eyes in his dearest manners and every inch of my body heated as he got up, gaining his tall size.

A grown, big man being soft on the edges? The hottest thing I’ve seen and I fucked once Mormon Isaac.

I was ready to get back to my platform when Ellie shared stares with Joel, a language I hadn’t properly been introduced to in my formal education, but I think I can decipher:

Ellie looking straight, then bringing her eyebrows up - say something, Joel

Joel furrowing his heavy eyebrows and pouting a little, before looking towards the exit - no, let’s go home

Ellie rolling eyes and siding it in my direction real quick - she is right here, do something

Joel setting his jaw and looking directly at Ellie - I said no, let’s go home

Ellie narrowing her eyes and then nodding to the toddler - how did we got him back?

Joel glancing at his nephew, Ellie, and me before pouting a little bigger - okay, fine, you’re so annoying

Mind you I’m not a linguist in any way, I might have translated something wrong since I’m not fluent and the whole scene lasted no more than two seconds. I was highly confused when he put his hand on the toddler’s shoulder (mind you, who was still holding my hand) and cleared his throat.

“Are you hungry? It would be a pleasure having you with us,” he proposed in his most southern polite voice. I laughed a little, stupid bitch.

“That’s not… Necessary. Really. It’s okay!” I replied quickly, awkwardly trying to walk back. The kid’s hand grip got stronger.

“C’mon, stay. It’s the minimum I can do,” Joel insisted with another puppy eye.

“I used to g-get lost too, in the mall, you know? It’s okay! It’s just a full circle moment, but thank you!” I lied.

I was a prodigious child, way too smart for my age, and for sure not roaming around in a suburban mall. My parents weren’t strict, but they had a very clear vision of what was cool and what was trashy. Read in my room, go to museums and cinema exhibitions of foreign movies that I was able to watch without the subtitles? Hot and cool. Go to the mall, watch blockbuster movies, and eat a burger at the food court? Suburban and trashy. I got lost once at a library, though.

“He won’t stop giving you the puppy eye until you accept, c’mon,” Ellie replied gaining a double glare from me and Joel, who – in all truth – was still giving me puppy eyes.

“Some pizza wouldn’t hurt,” I said with an awkward lopsided smile.

The duo stared at each other again, now that I had more familiarity with the language I think I can get better translations:

Ellie shotting up her eyebrows and inclining her head towards the front of her body - told ya, old man

Joel sighing before eyeing the food court direction - lead the way, brat

“Let’s go, Luke,” Ellie grabbed the kid’s hand from mine and started to walk.

“One sec,” I said before taking off my vest and placing it in the security guard’s hand, who looked at me puzzled. I would find a way out of trouble with the manager later on. “Okay, all good!”

“So… The arcade and the mall, you must be good with teenagers,” Joel started nodding in Ellie’s direction. He said in such a genuine matter that it took me back, not a single harsh reply in my brain.

“Not really, it’s more of a coincidence. I try to avoid them a little, though. They could shatter me with one comment.” I laughed a little, trying to break the awkwardness between us. He smirked a bit.

“I get it, Ellie likes to remind me that I’m no longer hip. Do people still use this word?” He asked chewing his cheek and I chuckled.

“I’m not sure. Maybe no? We are very much 20th-century material,” he smiled.

Do I like to think it was because I hinted that I was old enough to drink, so old enough to fuck him? Yes. But I regretted it the moment that thought appeared in my head.

Don’t get me wrong Tess, even if I’m a slut I wasn’t trying to fuck Joel Miller when we got alone. It’s more of an old habit, a second skin. When I got the conclusion men were little needy bitches, I got laid often.

You pretend to be stupid and praise them on their big brain. Maybe they prefer it when you are a hopeless girl who needs a strong man to solve something that your small body can’t. Or, the classic, they just want a shy girl who has no idea of how pretty she is and is more than grateful that he is there to show her.

Men are simple creatures. The more you make yourself smaller and dumber, the more they want you. Nobody wants an opinionated woman who knows her worth, that isn’t sexy. It’s a sin being a woman who is not sexy all the time.

Something inside of me knew Joel wasn’t trying to pick me up. He was just an older guy with a life set and a family of his own, he wanted to be nice to the girl who helped his nephew.

“Your nephew is a sweet kid, very affectionate,” I said in a genuine tone, trying to clear a bit of my head.

“A good kid too, smart for his age. He will be three in a couple of days,” Joel's face lightened up talking about the toddler. I wondered if someone’s face ever got so bright thinking of me.

“Growing up fast?” I asked trying to keep up, I don’t much about raising kids except that parents feel like everything is way too fast.

“Yes, but there is a long way until he becomes a petulant teenager like Ellie,” he joked with tenderness.

“She is cool, just the right amount of sassy in her bones. Her friends too, they are well-behaved down the arcade,” I said thinking about the times I saw her with other weird teenagers there.

“Really? Good to know her friends treat her well, she needs that,” he replied quickly. I lost him for a second and couldn’t keep my mouth shut.

“Why?” Could I sugarcoat my curiosity a bit? Of course, but my initial awkwardness was opening space for a comfortable conversation and I’m bad at calculating risk.

“We just moved, right before the school year. I’m from Austin, but Ellie no, she is from Boston. We lived there for a few years before moving back. Is tough to be the new kid, you know.”

The soft around the edges came back. I started to wonder how I never noticed Ellie’s accent, but it made sense.

“And why did you come back? Work?” I asked, again, without thinking further. Joel scratched his scruff while pondering how much detail he would give me.

“Boston got too heavy. Bad memories, you know? She needed a fresh start and I was missing the Texas sun.” My eyes searched for a ring on his hand for the first time, but there was nothing to see. Maybe a bad divorce? A widow?

“In that case, welcome home, cowboy,” I said mimicking holding a tip of a cowboy hat to him, who smiled a bit.

When we arrived at the food court, we went straight to the only pizza option available, the fucking Pizza Hut. The mall is shitty, if you haven’t noticed it yet Tess.

Ellie ordered everyone’s pizza as if she were introducing us to a new, exotic cuisine. Joel got amused, looking at her adoringly while petting his nephew's curls. I allowed myself to imagine what if my weekends were filled with this domestic view, if I would be happy to live such a mundane life and got surprised when the response was positive.

“Will you finally tell me who The Renegade is?” Ellie joked with a hint of truth. Joel rolled his eyes in good fun.

“A lady never tells,” I winked at her and Joel grinned with a little laugh. You see Tess, when you make a joke this is how people react, not scribbling something down their therapist's notepad. Rude as fuck.

The pizza could be better, but the company was more than good. I found myself laughing at Ellie’s puns, making comments about the arcade regulars. Joel tried to make me laugh a few times too, like an old friend. I felt good, felt normal instead of the constant weight on my shoulders.

At some point during our little chit-chat, I furrowed my eyebrows.

“How did Luke get lost? You haven’t told me that.” I questioned both of them, Ellie’s cheeks got pink. Joel made a motion for her to speak.

“Joel went inside a store and asked me to wait a little with Luke, to keep an eye on him for a second while he got something. I know,” she looked into his eyes with a guilty stare, “that I must hold Luke’s hand whenever we’re in a public place. I didn’t, started to look into a window shop thinking he was by my side.”

“It’s okay, you were holding tight to his hand on our way here,” Joel assured her.

If that man couldn’t get any hotter, he didn’t hold the weight of her mistakes against her. I swear that I don’t have daddy issues, I might have a Peter Pan syndrome or shit like that, but my dad was quite nice for a stuck-up guy. I’m not comparing dads, I’m comparing how to deal with delicate hearts: in that couple of hours I got to know a little more of them, I saw how Joel didn’t hold Ellie back, tried to shape her into something he wanted. Even inside of my own body I can’t do that with myself, be this level of kind.

I think Joel got me when it crossed my mind that I could fuck up and, maybe, he would still like me. I wouldn’t be a bitch, a bad girl to him. I would be just a person who made a mistake and he would still be there. What if my main kink is to be loved?

He paid for the meal, of course, a southern gentleman. I said goodbye, hinting I would be there when Ellie decided to show up at the arcade and she replied with a “hell yeah”. They left and I sighed, so light as if I had a spa day, but nope, just a good time with nice people. I might be lonely.

In a snap of fingers, I met the mall manager who questioned me why I wasn’t at the platform. The weight of the world came back on my shoulders, I reasoned that I was tired and wanted to go home as fast as possible.

“A kid got lost and I went to help him find his family. I think the slutty outfit might be a better idea next time, this shit is too complex,” I said shrugging before flashing him again with my boobs for a few seconds.

What? I had a nice meal with a good family, but I’m still not a saint.

Anyway, life followed its course. Saw Ellie sometimes at the arcade, Joel would greet me by name whenever he was there to pick her up, all good and normal. I told you, this is not your meet-cute story.

If you are wondering, yes, I saw Mormon Isaac the next day after the missing kid incident. Holy Sunday, couldn’t skip.

I don’t have exactly a wardrobe that screams “SLUT!”, but the vibe isn’t exactly good southern mormon girl. Jesus just wasn’t my thing growing up. My parents were a little paranoid about the christians, we avoided them at all cost. I had to thrift some stuff to attend Sunday preaching with Mormon Isaac.

It was so boring, every single Sunday. Thank God the pastor would scream from time to time on his speech, the only thing waking me up. Mormon Isaac, strangely as it seems, wouldn’t try to grab me a little here and there while we were inside the church.

“Are you okay?” I asked him once when he audibly swallowed when I touched the inside of his thigh when the pastor was speaking, or whatever.

“Yes. Please, not here, sweetheart,” he urged me and I rolled my eyes.

Every. Fucking. Sunday. For. Four. Months. He would only give me a peck after church, always in front of his family, if his parents weren’t making lunch he would drive me home and that’s it.

Sometimes we would do other stuff too. He would take me to the cinema to see a movie, always under PG-13 though. I would try to jack him off and he wouldn’t allow me, I once tried to give him a blowjob and he said he was waiting for the right time. We fucked rough in the staff room and now I was a pervert, make it make some sense.

You can imagine my surprise when, in the middle of an afternoon, Mormon Isaac appeared from nowhere at the arcade.

“Guess whose four-month anniversary is today?” He asked me while holding a box. I have no idea how to pray, but I know that I prayed for every single entity in the sky for a surprise break up as a git.

“Wow, lucky me,” I said with a fake smile. If my job was boring that afternoon, it was about to become much more boring.

From the corner, I saw Ellie picking up her backpack from the floor as I opened the box. A deep voice greeted my name and I got cold.

Mormon Isaac was looking at me like he was the best boyfriend in the whole world. Joel appeared to be curious, getting close to the glass display I call my office.

“I didn’t know you were religious,” he said looking at the bible in my hands. A fucking bible. Damn you, Mormon Isaac.

“She attends the Sunday preach every week,” Mormon Isaac promptly corrected with his most polite smile. I wanted to die.

“Thank you very much, I will cherish it.” I smiled back, looking into Joel’s eyes with a silent rescue request when Mormon Isaac glanced at his phone.

“See you tomorrow-,” he started and I cut it before he could finish that thought.

“For the bible study, yes. It will be a pleasure,” I said faking another smile, Joel looked so confused and amused by the whole situation. Mormon Isaac grinned so hard that I thought he was about to cum in his pants.

“That’s fantastic! I will let my mom know!” He said before grabbing his phone and walking out, leaving me and Joel behind.

I sighed and dropped my head into my arms, right at the bible. Joel's laugh, I sound I grew to adore, echoed and I glanced up from my arms.

“What the hell was that?” He asked in good fun, looking at how distressed I was.

“You do me a favor: never, I said never, open the door for a Jeovah’s witness. I accepted one preach from this mormon customer and now he plays rehab with me,” I said avoiding the fact that the said mormon was my boyfriend on the following day we would meet for a date.

“I will. Do you need an excuse for bible study?” He asked me looking somewhere behind me like he was forming a plan inside his head, both hands on my glass display while Ellie waited.

“Does it involve religion or any kind of cult?” I half-joked. Half because if hot Joel said he wanted me to go to any kind of religious ceremony I would have another panic attack and leave.

Joel looked to Ellie, who looked back at him and both nodded. This time I can’t translate, sorry, I’m still in the process of getting the language's grammatical structure.

“Tomorrow is Luke’s birthday. Surprise party. You don’t want to break the poor’s kid heart, c’mon,” Ellie said faking seriousness. Joel nodded back.

“There will be food?” Ellie confirmed. “Booze?”

“Do you like beer?” Joel asked, also in fake seriousness. Except that his death stare made me fucking wet.

“Pass me your phone so I can give you my number, text me the address,” I turned my palm up to grab the said phone, he smirked and Ellie laughed.

And this, Tess, is how I met Joel, got my little heart full of him just to let him slip into my life. What can I say? I never wanted to save a horse more than the moment he lassoed me.

I think you have more than enough material for our next session already. I will give you that yes, I speak more about what is inside my head like this. I think it might be because it feels strangely similar to submitting a paper, you know how much I love being the teacher’s pet.

Don’t forget: I can’t fall in love with this guy,

The Renegade

P.S. In case it isn’t obvious, I don’t have daddy issues. I DON’T. I know what it looks like, but I don’t have it. Don’t even try.

next chapter

#joel miller #tlou fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller x original character #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfic #the last of us #the last of us hbo #the renegade series

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