#and it keeps going until that night when joel KNOWS she's hiding something | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sinsofsummers · 10 months

Text

sensational

6.9k | joel miller & f!innocent!reader part two

this comes from this request. a few liberties were taken with the details (the reader knows that sex exists, but not much else), just fyi!

summary: thanks to becoming an orphan at age 13, you've lived the rest of your life oblivious to all the world can offer. now that you're in jackson, joel miller ignites something in you that only he can give answers to. warnings: slight angst (mentions of parent loss), innocent!fem!reader, age gap (joel is 56, reader is 25), kind of pervy!joel, smut (18+, mdni!!!), fingering, grinding, reader watches old pornos with joel, slight praise kink, no use of y/n. note: i planned originally to have this be just one part, but even though it ends in a way that i like, i could maybe be convinced to write a second part teehee (part two coming soon!)

You used to love the rain. The way it cascaded down your skin in little droplets, cleansing your body from a hard day's work, and the way it made your hair look so perfectly disheveled.

You craved the rain, until it became nothing but a reminder of the night your parents died.

It had been years at this point, but you would never quite forget how young, and small, and unsuspecting you'd been when they told you to run. How cruel, that time might pass, you might change, but with one smattering of rain, you returned so swiftly to the worst night of your life.

The three of you had been living alone, making your way...somewhere, but they never told you where. Your parents' only wish was to keep you safe, that much was clear. So it shouldn't have been a surprise that upon an ambush by at least ten clickers, after both your parents had been infected, that they'd insist that you run.

"Please, darling," your mother had pleaded, a lump in her throat as she formed the words. "Don't make me beg. I need you to run. Promise?"

Your father was somewhere else, but you could hear him yelling in the distance, in a fight for his life. You were too young, even at thirteen, to understand that those were the sounds of a dying man.

"I'll be right behind you," she'd choked on the last phrase, and in hindsight, you knew she was lying. But in the moment, you'd believed her. You couldn't see the bite she was hiding on her arm, her fate already sealed. "I'll come for you, my love," she insisted, "but I need you to go. Head for the woods."

It was the last time you saw her. You'd turned tail and had run as fast as you could for the woods.

The last thing you heard was a gunshot. A single shot, echoing around you in the trees. It may have been impossible to know, but you didn't need to turn back. Your parents were dead.

If you hadn't found Jackson, who knows how long you might have lasted. Nearing your twenty-first year, you'd proven valuable to the community, and they'd welcomed you in. Jackson was the first home you'd had since you were five.

It hadn't occurred to you that you were years behind your peers in terms of...well, everything, until you met Joel.

Rugged, tan, and sporting a perpetual frown paired with an ever-present crease between his brows, Joel Miller was your patrol partner. You weren't exactly sure why, and he didn't seem particularly pleased about it, but then again—he never seemed particularly pleased about anything.

It hadn't struck you as anything to be proud of, or to boast about to the other young women in Jackson, but they certainly loved coming up to you and expressing their jealousy when they felt so inclined.

"What's he like on patrol?" they'd ask, their eyes wide and lips curled in smirks as they waited for any insight you could give them on his mysterious personality.

All you could ever say over the next four years was a quick, "He's quiet."

Maybe that was why the two of you worked well. He wasn't much of a talker, and after you'd lost your parents, you hadn't been one to waste any breath on conversation, especially when you had survived alone with your own thoughts for almost eight years.

Silence was your mutual understanding. No talking meant no questions, and no questions meant no problems.

And this worked. Until it didn't.

-- -- --

It started like anything started. Quietly, hardly a bother, until it sank into the marrow of your bones and demanded that you address it.

More literally, it started in your shoulders. You'd been on patrol with Joel, a quiet, "Let's go," his only words to you that morning. They were his only words to you every morning, and that day was no different.

Patrolling with him was easy. Like you'd said—no talking, so no problems. You rode next to each other on your respective horses, and there was nothing more than a glance or two toward each other when necessary. It was the only form of communication that the two of you shared.

His big brown eyes had always startled you, looking so inviting in the contrast of the white snow during the winter, but they never showed you more than he allowed you to see. And all you saw of Joel was his dedication to sleep, patrol, eat, and repeat.

You hadn't felt the desire to look that closely at him until some of the girls in Jackson asked you how big his hands were, or what he looked like up close.

"You know," one of them had crooned, not realizing you were unsure of their intentions, "what does he look like without that big old coat on?"

You'd shrugged. "Why should I know?"

Another one wiggled her eyebrows. "Doesn't it get...lonely out there? Nothing but you, the snow, and a big man like Joel to keep you company?"

The faces of those girls, the glint in their eyes, it was something you couldn't quite decipher, as much as you wished you could. So one day, you'd asked the man himself what it all meant.

When you said it for the first time, it was so quiet that you could hardly even hear yourself.

Joel grunted, the only indication that he'd heard you.

Your cheeks burned, but you couldn't find a reason why. This was just Joel. He seemed to know everything there was to know about life; surely he could help you understand this. "Why do the girls in town keep asking me what it's like to patrol with you?"

He didn't answer for a second, but then shrugged. "They botherin' you?"

"No." You weren't quite sure that was true, and knowing him, he could probably hear the lie in your voice. "They're just kind of...belligerent."

His eyebrow cocked. "S'a big word," he mused. "Sure you know what it means?"

Your cheeks grew hot. "Yes," you insisted sharply. "I do read, you know."

He murmured a response, but the wind carried it away from you. You rode in silence for a bit longer before he said, "Don't let those girls get in your head. I think they just wanna get a rise outta you."

"A rise?"

Joel nodded and brought his horse to a routine stop. This was where the two of you always stretched your legs. He reached up to help you down your own mount and set you on the ground gingerly. "You know," he said, as if you should know, but with no regard for the fact that you didn't. "You're still kinda new here. Seems they're still pretty dead-set on embarrassin' you."

"I'm not embarrassed," you insisted again. "I just...is there a joke I'm not getting?"

"Any reason you chose to talk so much today?" was his only answer, which made your stomach clench.

There was no reason for you to be offended, as it was your typical routine to remain quiet unless absolutely necessary, but you couldn't help the way your lips curved downward. "Sorry," you mumbled, "forget I asked."

He was quiet again as the two of you walked at least two hundred paces, stretching out your sore muscles in the snow. It used to be comforting, the silence. It wasn't maddening, it didn't ever bother you if Joel was in his thoughts. You weren't even sure at times if he had any. But all that had changed now; his brow creased more than it usually did, and you wanted nothing more than to ask him what he was thinking.

Joel was the one constant in your life now. Maybe it was a—well, probably it was a trauma response from losing your parents, but you couldn't help it. You didn't need much from anyone, just someone to stay. Joel was strong enough to take care of himself and was smart enough not to make any rash decisions. As far as you could tell, he'd stay.

So how could you be so embarrassed by asking these questions?

"I forgot how long you said you were...alone out there," his grunting voice filled the space between you once more. It was quiet, and he sounded hesitant, as if he wasn't sure how to speak.

"Since I was thirteen," you said mechanically, so familiar with others in Jackson asking the same question.

"Shit," he cursed under his breath. "And you're how old?"

"Twenty-five," you said, feeling oddly small in his presence.

He shook his head. "That's a long time to be alone," he muttered, blowing out a breath.

You huffed. "Yeah, well, I survived. And besides, I've been here for four years now, you know."

"I know."

Again, the silence. Infuriating.

Then, you couldn't help it. "What's...'spooning,' and why do those girls ask me if we've done it?"

Joel stumbled, reaching out for balance. His hand found purchase on your shoulder, and you caught him awkwardly. "You don't even know what spooning is?" He sounded incredulous, as if you'd asked a juvenile question.

The warmth from his hand was astonishing, and distracted you from your embarrassment, if only for a moment. It sank through his glove into your coat, and down toward your skin. Something about the weight of his hand on your shoulder, even for a second as he removed it quickly, was enough to send you spiraling.

Your face burned. "Never mind," you said quietly and mounted your horse again. How stupid could you get? You scolded yourself. You'd ventured too far into this conversation, and now you didn't know how to get yourself out of it. "I was just...never mind. We should get back."

He nodded, but his face still looked somewhat pinched. "Yeah. S'getting dark."

The sun was still up. No intention of sinking beneath the horizon for at least a few hours. You rode again in uncomfortable silence, this time letting it fill the space. You foolishly thought that maybe if you were quiet long enough, he'd forget that you'd made a fool of yourself, that you'd exposed yourself to the truth: that you knew hardly anything about...anything except for survival instincts.

When Joel spoke again, it surprised you. "I didn't mean to tease ya," he said. "It's just kind of a surprise that you're not...that you don't..." he looked over at you, and there was some type of pleading in his eyes, as if he were begging you not to make him say it.

"That I don't what?" you said dumbly, hoping you didn't sound as childish as you felt.

He pondered his next words carefully, and then he hummed, "If you want, I could...teach you some stuff."

"Like spooning?" You felt a warmth in your face as you watched his shoulders hunch with a soft laughter. Your own shoulder burned where he'd touched it, and something bloomed in your gut.

He chuckled. "I don't know about all that," he said, "but I'll help you get...back on track. Would hate for someone to take advantage of your...innocence." It sounded sinful, the way he said it, and the something in your gut pulsed.

"You don't have to," you shook your head, but you didn't even believe the words as they came out of your mouth. "I'll just ask someone else."

"Darlin', don't trust anyone else to give you straight answers. I'm older'n half of everyone in Jackson, anyway." He flashed you a look. "I'll help. Whatever you want to know."

You bit the insides of your cheeks, your stomach turning strangely. "Anything?"

He nodded dutifully, but his eyes had already left yours. Joel Miller, ever the professional. "Whatever you want."

-- -- --

Joel liked to consider himself someone who would never again suffer the shock of surprises. After having lived through and seen more shit than any normal person could, he thought he'd experienced it all.

That is, until her pretty lips had opened and asked him to teach her about all she'd missed. Until she asked him to teach her.

He hadn't really seen her as the picture of innocence until he'd heard how long she'd been alone, surviving with no one and nothing besides her own thoughts and the clothes on her back.

The least her parents could do was teach her how to shoot, he'd thought when he first met her. It was a curiosity that was quickly resolved, as she'd proven herself valuable to Jackson.

Tommy had wasted no time putting them on patrol together. "It'll be good for you," his brother had reasoned when he brought up concerns. "You know, to talk to someone out there. I know she's on the young side, but you don't gotta fall in love with her." He'd flashed an apologetic smile when Joel had scowled. "You're scarin' everyone, Joel. Bein' all quiet and shit...it's—"

"It's what?" he'd asked gruffly. "I don't do it on purpose. I'm a grown man."

This was all true, and he very much didn't do it on purpose. With no one around whom he deemed worthy of his conversation, Joel Miller had become the quiet, introspective version of himself that everyone decided to become scared of all of a sudden.

The way he saw things? It wasn't his fault everyone in Jackson was boring. Or childish.

But her. With her unmistakable will to survive and those eyes that could burn fierce with ire one moment, and soften with curiosity the next...it was only a matter of time before he agreed to do whatever she asked.

He should have seen it coming, especially considering her past. Every time he thought of just how...unsuspecting she was about...everything, he had to shake his head, clearing it of any thoughts that threatened to take advantage of her.

But being ignorant of spooning. He had to clear his throat every time he thought of what that might mean for himself in this particular arrangement. If she knew nothing of something so...palatable, he could hardly help himself when thinking of what else she might be unaware of.

He tried to be patient, and he tried to be respectful, but at the end of the day, he was Joel Miller. From the moment she looked at him with those wide eyes, he was lost.

-- -- --

"What I would give to give that man the ride of his life," one of the girls next to you hummed at breakfast the next morning, her eyes presumably glued to Joel, who'd just come into the cafeteria. You didn't look up at him, instead casting a confused glance toward the girl who'd spoken.

"Ride where?" You cursed your quick instinct to ask questions, as the girls erupted into a fit of giggles. Face burning, you looked down again at your plate. "Never mind," came your almost instantaneous response. You were getting used to having to apologize for your ignorance, and people rarely—especially not these girls—offered their kindness.

One of the other girls snickered. "Why don't you ask him? I'm sure there's nothing much to talk about out there anyway," she said, smiling widely. Her next words were nothing short of a drawl, the complete essence of mockery. "'Joel, what's it mean to ride?'" she pinched her face in what you assumed was an impression of you, and it only made your eyebrows furrow despite your stomach sinking in utter horror.

And then there he was. He'd called your name, and now he was standing behind your left shoulder, hand outstretched to save you.

You were sure his hand had never looked quite as appealing as it did now. The calluses on his palm were raised and visibly rough. For a moment, you stared at his fingers and wondered what they might feel like against your cheek.

Swallowing a lump in your throat, that something arose in your gut once more before you heard him murmur your name again.

"Come on," he grunted, but there was a gentleness to it that made the hair on the nape of your neck stand on end. "Time to go."

The girls at your table were silent when you took his hand gingerly and let him lead you from the cafeteria. You noted the swift wave of cold that hit your hand as soon as he dropped it, just a second later. Clasping your hands together, you hoped in a fit of desperation that you might preserve some of the weight and warmth of his touch on your skin. It failed.

"Thanks," you said later, when the two of you were outside the community's borders. Jackson felt a bit too stuffy for any real admissions of gratitude, you'd decided. It turned out to be a good conclusion when you felt the delicious churn of your stomach at the idea of being alone with him once more.

I'm sure there's nothing much to talk about out there anyway, one of the girls had said. Doesn't it get lonely out there? You were reminded of another's teasing, and this time your cheeks burned at the memory. Nothing but you, the snow, and a big man like Joel to keep you company.

He was big, you considered. When he stood next to you, his frame was almost larger than life, and his shoulders were sinfully broad when you watched him walk in front of you on previous patrols. The sheer size of him was enough to send you into a heady descent.

As usual, Joel didn't answer for what felt like ages, and you'd begun to wonder if he could see where your train of thought had led you. Then:

"You could have told me they were bein' that outrageous," he grunted, keeping his eyes forward. "I woulda helped you out sooner. S'no fun feelin' left outta everything."

It was...odd to hear such words come from a man like Joel. Although, you reminded yourself, you'd hardly spoken to him in the four years that you'd been in Jackson; who was to say he wasn't normally like this? A quiet, brooding older man, yes; but maybe he was naturally like this. One to offer his help.

"If you wanted to help, you would have made an effort four years ago." You let your words hang in the air. You didn't mean for them to come off sharp; it was simply the truth. "I don't need your help," you added, tightening your hands on the reins of your horse and swallowing roughly. "It was fine. I am fine."

He flashed you a look as if to say, is that so? You couldn't help but notice the way the corners of his eyes creased, the only sign of amusement. It was all you could do to keep your eyes on him, although you weren't sure how you were going to explain the way your mouth went dry at the sight of his big brown eyes.

"Besides," you insisted quietly, "you're not my dad."

Joel cleared his throat. Looked down, shoulders tense. Inhaled. "No," he said decidedly. "No, I'm not."

Emboldened by this clarification, you inquired, "So what did those girls mean earlier? Riding, I mean?"

If you could have guaranteed the image of Joel's eyes going wide in surprise to remain in your head for the rest of your days, you would have done it instantly. His forehead was creased as his eyebrows lifted, and despite his position facing away from you, you could see it all.

The way he seemed to wrestle with himself before answering, the way his hands seemed to clench in his gloves. "So, uh..." he started, and then paused again. Mustering up whatever courage he needed, Joel finished, "Well, ya see, when a man and woman love each other very much—"

"Joel." Oh. You couldn't help it when a breathless chuckle left your lips.

He was silent, and when he finally answered, it wasn't a question. "What."

"I'm not fucking stupid. I know how reproduction works."

Joel's chest rose and fell in a deep sigh, and you couldn't ignore the look of complete relief that washed over his rough features. "Thank fuckin' Christ. Didn't know if I had it in me for another sex talk. I'm too old to be doin' this."

"Believe it or not, my parents did leave me with the basic information." Swallowing roughly, you continued. "And I know...I know that men usually...take. It's an assertion of power, from what I've...seen."

He shook his head. "Guess I shouldn't be surprised that you've run into your fair share of dirtbags, even in the middle of the world goin' to shit." He ran a gloved hand through his hair, and you secretly enjoyed the way it stood up. "Anyone ever, you know...take...from you?"

Hearing your own words regurgitated back to you left you feeling fluttery. Shaking your head, you got down from your horse; you'd reached your typical resting spot. "No," you said firmly. "They never wanted me."

Joel nodded. "S'good," he said, and it bothered you to no end that you couldn't understand the emotion in his voice. "So..."

By now he was standing next to you, closer than you were used to, judging by the way his coat sleeve bumped yours as the two of you walked, stretching your legs. "So," you said, thinking up a way to make this conversation less awkward. "I just hate feeling like a kid again. I'm twenty-five, for fuck's sake. There's more than just survival when it comes to living. I just want to know what I'm missing out on," you confessed with a hand on your stomach.

When Joel brushed by your side again your stomach flipped. And what the fuck is that about, and why do I keep feeling it? You asked inwardly, but you were too nervous to ask. Bombarding Joel with questions, especially after you'd just started talking to him on patrol after four years, seeming to be the wrong path to take.

He shrugged, eyebrows still furrowed in thought. "There's nothing to miss if you don't know what you're missin'."

"Yes," you admitted, "but that doesn't stop any of those girls from making me feel like I'm..."

"Innocent?" he murmured, and you thought you weren't meant to hear it until he turned to look at you.

Those big brown eyes, they just won't quit, a voice nudged you in your head.

"I don't want to be innocent," you groaned, throwing your head back. "God, not in the sense that they see me in. Sounds like a damn curse."

The sound of his rumbling laughter, however quiet, sent a shock down your spine and you nearly tripped in the snow. "There's pros and cons, I s'pose," he offered. "It's like I said: I'll help you get back on track. If that's what you really want."

"It is." You stopped walking, took a look around at the landscape, otherwise empty with the scattering of trees. You swallowed, pressed one. "So...riding. It's a part of reproducing, then?"

He chuckled again, but this time it didn't come off as demeaning. It was like he was teasing you, but good-naturedly. "Let's not jump too far ahead of ourselves, yeah? Start with somethin' smaller. Then we'll work our way up."

Joel's eyes were piercing when he held yours in his gaze. If someone watched this conversation, you were sure they'd be able to see the blush blooming on your cheeks.

"Learnin' takes time, ya know," he mused, his growling voice nearly a hum that could have warmed you from the inside out.

You'd made it to the edge of the woods now. This was normally where you turned back, heading for home. But neither of you moved. The bubble of something pulsed again, and you swallowed roughly before whispering hoarsely, "So where should we start?"

-- -- --

If Joel were a better man, he might have warned her what the curse of innocence in a young woman could be. He might have shook his head, stepped back, and told her to ask someone else. He might have taken the reins and turned the two of them back toward Jackson.

If he were better, he wouldn't have stepped closer to her. If he were a better man, he wouldn't have looked into her sparkling eyes and let the question slip. Fuck it all.

"You ever been kissed, darlin'?"

-- -- --

You swallowed. Don't make a fool of yourself, you begged yourself before answering with a quiet shake of your head. "Not many contenders out there. Not any good ones, anyway."

He'd leaned closer to you with his question, and now you could practically see each line of age in his face. Joel's expression was unclear; he could have been pleased with this information or...or maybe there was pity in his eyes. "No," he said with an understanding nod. "No, I suppose there wouldn't have been."

He lifted a gloved hand to his mouth and you watched as he traced it along his lips. The gray strands in his hair glinted off the sunlight, blinking pleasantly in your eyes. That something pulsed once more in your stomach, and there was a sort of realization that came with it.

Joel, you thought. Joel is making me feel like this.

"Will you kiss me?" The words were out of your mouth before you could reel them in.

But instead of laughing, or scoffing, or giving any sign of mockery, Joel Miller inhaled quietly. "You know how much older I am than you?" he asked.

You nodded. "We're both adults, Joel. Besides," you felt a ghost of a smirk come to grace your lips, a feigned confidence coming to save you in this moment of truth. "I thought you told me to ask you these questions."

He sighed. "You're right."

"So? Will you?" you asked, with a small, "please?" coming out afterward.

He moved slowly, something you were equally thankful for as you were frustrated with, but his forehead met yours soon enough. His eyelashes brushed against your cheek, and he let out a shaky breath, letting it fan deliciously across your face. The knowledge that he was just as nervous as you were was not only a comfort; it was perhaps the most attractive thing you'd ever known.

And when you lifted your chin, just a hairsbreadth from his lips, your eyes fluttered closed, waiting for him to meet you in the middle. It only took a moment before he was closing his mouth over yours, and Joel Miller was kissing you.

He was gentle, of course, but there was something restrained about his kiss, the way he slowly slotted his lips over yours as if you might crack under any more pressure. It only made you want more, more, more...

You pressed your hands to his chest and curled them into fists, tugging his jacket to lessen the distance between your bodies even more. You didn't know how you were doing this, how you'd managed to find confidence in what could have easily been a humiliating experience. Your first kiss at twenty-five? With anyone else, it might have been a nightmare.

With Joel, it was turning out to be the most delightful dream.

"So soft, baby," he pulled back to whisper against your mouth. "These lips are so soft for me."

You hummed your response and pulled him back to you, letting him see that you wanted more. That incessant pressure was building, and it wasn't until he had his arms sliding around your waist that you forced yourself to pull back, head spinning. "Joel."

He blinked. "What? Too fast?" He shook his head. "I'm sorry, darlin', you're just so—"

"No, that's not it." You managed a weak smile, but the look in his eye, the question and the undeniable desire—is that what it looks like?—quivering in his brown irises, nearly made you collapse. He waited for you to continue, his hands never leaving you, a courtesy you were grateful for. "I feel...hot." Your cheeks warmed. "Um, there's this...pressure."

His lips closed in a tight smirk, and he squeezed your hips. "Where, baby?" he murmured, and you could have sworn you saw stars outlining his head at the sound of the pet name. "Show me," he cooed.

"Um." You paused, unsure of just how. But with his hands on your waist, his heavy, warm touch melting you on the spot, you took one of his gloved hands in yours and guided him to your stomach. "Here. Kind of."

"Yeah?" he said, and you forgot about the cold. About your horses waiting to be mounted, about your other responsibilities in Jackson. All you could see were his dark eyes that had somehow grown darker as you pushed his hand down, down, down...

"Fuck, babygirl," he cursed, and let his hand rest on the crux of your thighs, just barely pressing on the source of the tingling sensation. If anything, it made it worse, and you let a breathy whine fall from your lips. "You're gonna be the death of me, huh?" he groaned.

You couldn't form words. Just one kiss (a very good kiss, mind you) and a heavy hand on your core was all it took, apparently. You could hardly look anywhere but his face, your mouth dropping open as your hips moved of their own accord, grinding into his hand before you realized you were doing it. "Joel—" you whimpered, and he pulled his hand away.

There wasn't enough time for you to feel jilted, as he tugged you back to your horse and practically launched you onto it himself. "We're goin' back," he said firmly, "now."

Swallowing, your throat dry and rough, you pressed a hand to your cheek, feeling the heat swimming under your skin. "Did I do something wrong?"

You could hardly see him shake his head as he mounted his own horse, looking back at you to make sure you were following him. "'Course not," he called over his shoulder. When you caught up with him, the two of you shoulder-to-shoulder, he continued. "Look, darlin', f'I'm gonna be givin' you your first kiss and makin' you feel that good..." he sighed, his dark eyes finding yours. "I'm not doin' it in a fuckin' snowbank."

-- -- --

The entire ride back to Jackson was painfully long, silent but for Joel's mumbled directions, despite the fact that the two of you had taken this same route countless times in the four years that you patrolled together.

Your eyes were trained forward, and you knew his were as well, but it took everything in you not to glance at him even for a second. If you did, you were afraid that the pressure building in the crux of your thighs would never go away.

It would be unfair to say that you were completely unaware of what might happen when you got back to Jackson, but you still didn't know much, which left a nervous bubble rising in your gut. It wasn't like there were any books left in Jackson that you could read about it, or any movies that Maria would allow to remain in the community's borders.

Again, you got a wave of feeling like this should have concerned you, or at least made you a little anxious. But with Joel pulling ahead, his strong back the only thing you could look at, you felt the knot of tension release in your stomach. This was Joel. After four years—even four mostly silent years—of working together, you felt like you...knew him, somehow. That he couldn't possibly lead you astray.

Sure enough, when you were both within the borders, horses returned safely to their stables, the tension returned. Or had it ever really dissipated?

Joel hovered close to you as you left the stables. "Let's go, darlin'," he breathed, a gloved hand on your lower back as he guided you.

"Where?" you said, and you hoped it didn't sound as desperate as it did to you, the pressure getting worse. "I need—"

"I know, baby, I know," he cooed gently, his head on a swivel as if looking for anyone who might stop you. "We're goin' to mine. I've got the perfect lesson planned for ya, alright?"

It was all you could do to nod and let him push you forward through the snowy streets. If only those girls could see you now.

Once inside, you took a breath. There was no one around, and once the door closed behind you, the silence felt all the more heavy. "Ellie?" you asked, if only in courtesy.

He shook his head, and you bit your lip when you saw him smirk. "Just us, doll."

Joel shed his outer layers, and when he stood in front of you, you realized that this was the first time you'd seen him without his coat. Without his gloves, aside from that morning.

Your eyes snagged on his fingers, and you swallowed roughly when you saw the way they twitched, as if in anticipation for something. Or maybe he was holding himself back, you considered. His jaw did seem to have an impatient clench to it. Hands rough like you knew they would be, it didn't take long for your mind to wander into thinking of what it might be like to feel those hands on your skin.

With any luck, he'd give you the sweet release you craved, however it would unfold.

"See anything you like?" he teased, and your cheeks warmed.

"Sorry," you fumbled for a response, your eyes dropping. You'd meant to clear your head, but then your eyes were caught on his thighs. Specifically how hard the seams on his jeans were fighting to remain unripped. "Um, a lesson, you said?"

He nodded, reaching out a hand to take your own coat off, leaving you in the sweater and pants you'd had on all day. You were sure your hair was knotted and would be for days, but he only smoothed a hand down your face, letting you lean into his touch. His fingers were still cold, but your face was hot and it offered a dizzying sense of relief.

"I could never teach you all this," he murmured, his thumb rubbing back and forth in an absentminded swipe across your cheek. "Not without getting...distracted," he finished, pressing his other hand to your waist. Underneath the thick layer of your coat, his hand felt like a hot iron scorching your skin, despite there still being a few layers of clothes between your bodies.

"Distraction is okay," you breathed, lifting a hand to cup his on your waist. "Right?"

He shook his head, a chuckle lifting from deep in his chest. "Not tonight," he whispered. "Tonight, I want to stick to the plan."

"Which is?"

Wordlessly, he removed the hand on your waist and entwined it with your own, tugging you toward the living room where an old television had been placed on a rickety-looking shelf. "Sit," he directed, and you did so without hesitation. He paused, biting back a smile at your eager cooperation, and adjusted himself.

It occurred to you that as much as you were affected by him, he was experiencing a similar effect from you. His pants, already tighter than sin, seemed to have become even tighter, as a bulge began to grow while he stood just a few feet from your face.

"Joel—"

"No, no," he waved a dismissive hand and went to the television to grab something. He came back with something you recognized: a VHS tape. "Don't worry 'bout me, sweets. Tonight's just for you."

"We're gonna watch a movie?" you asked, trying to ignore the way your heart sank a little. You had been hoping that the two of you would kiss some more, and maybe even...you didn't even know the name for it.

"Not just any movie," he grinned, putting it in to watch. The video started. "A special one."

When the scene opened on a man and a woman in the throes of passion, you gasped. "No way," you whispered. "I thought Maria—"

He shrugged, sinking down on the couch beside you, his knee bumping yours. "She must've missed this one," was all he said.

The woman looked to be enjoying herself, as her scene partner kissed her neck, dragging his tongue from the dip in her clavicle to the curve of skin where her neck met her ear. A cartoon-ish moan left her lips, but you didn't pay it any mind. The sight of it made your thighs clench together subconsciously, the lick of pressure rising again in your center.

"Joel—"

"Shh," he said gently. "C'mere, darlin'." With no more than a heavy hand on your waist, he tugged you closer to him, situating you over his lap. "Comfortable?"

You almost said no; you knew that this wouldn't be an acceptable seating arrangement in the cafeteria (or anywhere public, for that matter), but when his hands landed on your thighs, you nodded swiftly. His fingers curled around your skin, and you could feel every pulse of his heartbeat through his fingertips, poised as if he might spread your legs from where they were squeezed together between his own thighs.

Something hard and solid nudged at your core, and you couldn't help it when you leaned back into his chest, head tilting back to rest on his shoulder. A breathy moan tumbled from your lips, and your stomach fluttered when you felt his chest rumble with a chuckle.

"That quick, baby?" he whispered, his breath fanning over your neck. "You really are a sweet young thing, aren't ya," he teased, pressing his nose to the joint between your jaw and your neck, "fallin' apart for me already?" He rocked his hips forward, his bulge pressing harder against you, and it nearly sent you into a spiral.

You swallowed, your throat dry. The sounds of the movie seemed far away as you opened your eyes and looked at his beard, peppered with gray and scratching at your chin when he leaned over you. "Joel," you whispered, bringing your hands to cover his own on your thighs, "I-I want to know everything." You'd never meant anything more fervently, more desperately, than this.

If you'd known how addicting this could feel, being so close to him, feeling his hands on you, perhaps you would have been embarrassed at the way your hips began rubbing yourself on his lap, hoping for—you didn't even know what could be after this. You just knew that the way you felt was the most intense thing you'd felt in your entire life, and you wanted to keep feeling this way, as long as you could.

Joel tutted, squeezing his hands on your thighs. "Oh, look at you," he groaned, a deep, carnal noise that made your chest constrict, "you're a natural, doll." His lips brushed your shoulder, and he darted his tongue out to lick a small strip up your neck.

Your heart swelled with the praise, and it was all you could do not to squeeze your eyes shut. "Please," you begged quietly, as if someone might hear you.

"I know, baby, I know," he crooned, dark eyes locked onto your own as his hand crept closer—to your waistband—closer—unzipping your pants—closer...there.

Your hips lifted from his lap with the heady sensation of his fingers pressed to a bundle of nerves between your legs. "Joel—!" you squeaked.

You felt him smile against your cheek. "So wet," he murmured, "so slick for my fingers, baby." He began rubbing that spot in tight circles, a slow, torturous pace. "Let me know when you're gonna come, yeah?"

"When I..." you trailed off. You'd never...how would you know? "I don't..."

Joel hummed in your ear, rocking his hips again and releasing a guttural groan. "S'okay, pretty girl," he reassured you, "I'll be gentle. Lemme know when it feels like it's too much. "I've gotcha."

You were too far gone to doubt him. This was Joel. He wouldn't let you fall, as much as you felt like you were going to slide to the floor at the feeling of his hand coming up from your leg to caress your breast, rolling a nipple between his fingertips. A strangled mix between a cry and a moan left your lips, and with one more kiss to your brow paired with a quick swipe of his finger over your ever-sensitive bud—

Something gave way and you jerked your head back, digging into his shoulder. Your legs spasmed and you squeezed your hand over Joel's, holding his hand in place underneath your panties.

"Fuck, doll, just like that," he encouraged you. "Look at you, eyes rollin' back for me. Shakin' like a good girl." His hips tensed beneath you and you felt his chest shudder as he released a punishing moan. "Got me feelin' like a damn teenager, comin' in my jeans."

His fingers stilled, but his hand didn't move. Your legs slowly stopped shaking, and the solid mass beneath you was softening. You let out a sigh, your eyelids fluttering closed. Your cheeks were flushed, you could tell; but this time, it wasn't embarrassment that brought the warmth to your face.

"You okay?" he murmured, carefully removing his hands from their places on you. "Feel alright, darlin'?"

Your head turned, nestling into the crook of his neck. Nodding quietly, you shifted in his lap. "I...I didn't know it could be like that," you shivered.

Joel paused the video, the living room falling quiet around you. Swinging a hand under your legs and tugging you to a more comfortable position over his lap, he raised his fingers to his lips, glistening with the remnants of your desire. Your jaw slackened when you watched him open his mouth, lapping at the tips of his fingers.

"Trust me, doll," he said with a glint in his eye. You whimpered in anticipation as he reached to brush a strand of hair from your face. "I've got so much more to teach you."

tysm for reading! you made it to the end! part two is in the works posted!

6K notes · View notes

joelsgreys · 1 year

Text

a safe haven l six

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

series masterlist l previous chapter l next chapter

summary: Joel opens up to you about a very traumatic loss; he makes a confession about his feelings towards you; you make a confession of your own and it leads to something more.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. fluff, infidelity, Joel and reader are having a full blown affair at this point, angst, talks of child loss (Sarah), lots of feelings come to the surface, two idiots realize they are in love. SMUT. oral sex (m receiving), size mention bc i will always be convinced our man is packing) unprotected p in v sex (wrap it up pls), reader discovers she likes praise, creampie.

word count: 8.4k

August 2024

The next two and a half weeks that had passed by had done so without major incident, but things had taken a somewhat complicated turn.

You and Joel still manage to see one another a handful of times even with the exhausting amount of hours he’s been putting into his patrol duties, though it isn’t nearly as often as either of you wanted or would have preferred. But there was no other choice.

After numerous sightings of a group of potential raiders earlier on in the month, Tommy had no choice but to assign every last competent, able bodied patrol person, including himself, to work double shifts to ensure the safety and security of Jackson. He and Joel had come across the remnants of a campsite just about fifteen miles south of the settlement and they worried the group was hiding out, planning a violent, ambush attack on the community when it was least expected. Tommy had done his absolute best to keep the word from spreading throughout the commune to avoid causing a panic, but he found himself having to fess up when people went up to him and all but furiously demanded to know the truth—the real reason behind why their loved ones were now being asked to be on the other side of wall twenty four hours a day, seven days a week.

Joel, who you’d come to learn is one of the sharpest and strongest shooters out of everybody in Jackson besides his younger brother, reluctantly took on the role of lead patrolman. He had been assigned an absurd amount of double shifts to work, including the overnight routes, making it almost impossible for you to see each other. You’d understood he had no choice but to comply, but still—that didn’t make the situation any easier to deal with. Both of you tried to make the very best of what little time you managed to get together, but it hadn’t been nearly enough. As if not being able to see Joel wasn’t agonizing enough for you, the fact that he was out on the other side of the wall scared the hell out of you. The only way to keep yourself from losing your goddamn mind was to distract yourself.

You did everything that you could to keep your mind off Joel being out there. Burying yourself deeply into your work helped for the most part.

Besides that, Joel had asked you, as a favor to him, to keep a watchful eye on Ellie in light of his absence. You’d spend most of the day with her in the stables, you would have lunch with her in the mess hall along with Dina, and in the evening, you would go home and make dinner early enough to fix an extra plate of food for her so she had a nutritious homemade meal to enjoy instead of two decades old canned ravioli. You would take it over to her place and drop it off before Luke came home from the clinic. Ellie waited until it was late in the evening and he was asleep to return the plate back to you, and the two of you would take a lengthy, late night stroll through the town, keeping each other company for a while before heading off to bed. She hadn’t seemed to be all too concerned about Joel, but then again, Ellie had known better than you did that he could take care of himself out there just fine. If anything, you spending so much time with her had been more for your benefit than hers, and you started to suspect that just like Joel had asked you to keep an eye on Ellie, he had also asked her to keep an eye on you too. After all, you had made it abundantly clear to him that you were nervous about him being out on patrol while there was a possible threat looming in the shadows.

By the time the middle of August came around, no additional traces of the group had been found—they seemed to have vanished into thin air, causing a wave of relief to sweep through the town. Tommy and Maria finally decided to ease up and end the double shift assignments, allowing every single patrolman and woman to return to their normally scheduled work rotations. Joel went back to his usual early morning and afternoon patrol hours, which meant that the both of you could resume your clandestine meetings out behind the barn underneath the stars.

“I missed you,” you say, sighing out contentedly as you lean back against him.

You and Joel are sitting out on the large, vacant patch of field behind the barn, his soft, green flannel blanket acting as a barrier between your bodies and the itchiness of the grass the animals would graze on during the day. You’re nestled in between his long legs, your back against his warm chest as the two of you share the delicious, ripe peach he’d brought along with him as a surprise for you.

“Mm, probably not as much as I was missin’ you, sweet girl,” Joel replies with a hum before taking a bite of the fruit. Noticing there’s only a couple bites of it left, he reaches his arm around and holds it out for you, his bulging bicep straining against the sleeve of his faded black t-shirt. “Here, darlin’. Want you to go on and have the rest.”

“These will be out of season in a couple of months.” Giving a sad little pout to nobody in particular, you sigh again and sink your teeth into the peach. Through a small mouthful, you realize, “Who knows when we’ll ever get peaches around here again.”

Joel’s lips meet the spot on your neck right behind your ear and you feel him grin. “S’alright with me. I’ve got my sweet, perfect little peach right here. And I’ve got her all year round.”

You playfully elbow him in his chest. After polishing off the rest of the peach, you lick off the pit and toss it out into the distance.

“Didn’t think you’d be the type to litter,” he teases.

“It’s biodegradable,” you retort with a tiny laugh as you leaned your head back against his shoulder and gaze up, admiring the stars that sprinkle the velvet night skies. “Or at least, I think it is. Come to think of it, I never paid much attention in life science when I was in FEDRA school. It was my least favorite subject.”

You gather your hair in your hand, bringing it over your shoulder to keep it out of Joel’s face.

“Mm,” he whispers, licking his lips as his eyes fall to the delicate flesh of your exposed neck. He ghosts his mouth over your pulse point and his warm breath fans against your cool skin, prompting your eyes to flutter closed. “Just temptin’ me on purpose now, ain’t you, baby?”

“I would never do such a thing,” you object in an innocent tone, and he immediately clocks the smirk behind it. A comfortable silence falls over the both of you and while you’d normally welcome the peaceful, tranquil moment with him, tonight it feels impossible. You had gone so long without Joel over the last couple of weeks—at least, it had certainly felt long—and you realize one of things you’d missed most about him was the sound of his voice. “Ask me a question, Joel.”

“What kinda question can I ask, darlin’?”

Feeling brave, you offer, “You can ask me anything you want. No limits.”

Humming curiously to himself, he tries to think of something he hasn’t asked you before. “What’s your favorite color?”

“Really, Joel?” You snort, trying to mask your laughter as he rests his chin on your shoulder, the scruff of his beard tickling your skin as he presses his cheek against yours. “I just told you that you can ask me anything you want and that’s your question? What’s my favorite color?”

“Yeah,” he answers, simply. “I wanna know what it is.”

He turns his head, lifting it off your shoulder to brush a gentle kiss to your temple. Joel could not, for the life of him, even remember the last time he’d shared this kind of physical tenderness with anybody. Forehead kisses, holding your hand, all sorts of little tokens of affection he didn’t think he could still be capable of giving to someone came to him so naturally with you. You had brought out an entirely different side of him, one that had been buried beneath his rough exterior for well over two decades, and the part that Joel still can’t quite wrap his own head around is that you’d done it with such ease. He’d go as far as to say that you had done it without even trying.

“So?” Joel prompts you. “What is it?”

“It’s brown,” you answer.

“Brown? Why brown?”

“Because. It’s earthy, it’s warm—and your eyes are brown,” you state, grinning to yourself as you feel his loud laugh rumble through his chest and against your back. “What about you? I mean that’s if Joel Miller even has a favorite color,” you giggle teasingly, placing a hand on one of his denim clad legs. You then add, “Actually, I’m kind of curious now. Do you have a favorite color, Joel?”

Joel hesitates, momentarily holding onto his answer.

“I do. It’s purple,” he finally responds after a brief bout of silence. “Purple’s my favorite color.”

“Purple,” you repeat after him, unable to mask the surprise in your tone. “Really?”

Joel chuckles. “What? That weird or somethin’?”

“Uh, sort of. For one, you just don’t strike me as the kind of guy who would have a favorite color in the first place—and even if you’d told me you did, I would have never in a million years guessed that it was purple,” you admit, sheepishly. You trace a small circle around his knee with your finger and curiously ask him, “Why is purple your favorite color?”

“‘Cause. That’s my daughter’s favorite color.”

You scoff playfully. “Come on, Joel. Ellie’s favorite color sure as hell isn’t purple. Her favorite color is green. But red’s a close second.”

When he speaks again, his voice is so quiet you almost don’t hear him despite being in such close proximity.

“I ain’t talkin’ about Ellie.”

At first, it doesn’t quite register, but after a moment of processing, the pieces click together in your mind. Joel has another daughter.

Your smile vanishes and you slowly turn around between his legs to face him. Looking at him with wide, shocked eyes, you utter, “What?”

“Her name was Sarah,” he confesses, softly.

Was.

Your throat dries at his use of past tense.

Because you know exactly what that means.

Opening your mouth to speak, words fail you and you close it. You suddenly remember the way he would tap dance around certain details of his first life in Texas. Whenever he would speak about his life before the outbreak, he would be cautious, careful to watch himself and his words. You’d known Joel had been keeping something from you, something he wasn’t ready to disclose to you for one reason or another—but never would you have guessed that him having a daughter would be the secret he had been hiding.

By now, you’ve turned your body around and you kneel in front of him, sitting back onto your heels. Not wanting to push him too hard or too fast, you clasp your hands together in your lap and wait silently—patiently—for him to continue when he’s ready.

“Sarah’s favorite color was purple. She’d wear it all the time. Her backpack, her school supplies, they all had to be purple or she wouldn’t use them. When she was nine years old, she begged me to paint the walls of her bedroom purple. One day, I took her to Home Depot after school to look at all the different shades.” He laughs, musing, “Didn’t know there could be so goddamn many of them. Anyhow, I told her I’d think ‘bout it. I went back to the store the next day while she was at school, bought a couple cans of the lavender shade I knew she’d like the best and by the time she got home, I had it all painted for her,” he explains, a sadness glazing over the fondness of the memory. “She loved purple. It was the color of the t-shirt she was wearin’ the last time we were together on the night of the outbreak.”

Your heart sinks. “Joel, you don’t have to tell me—”

“S’alright, peach. I wanna tell you ‘bout her,” Joel assures you, reaching out for your hand and taking it in his own. “I trust you, baby. Trust you more than enough to tell you ‘bout Sarah.”

Nodding, you lace his fingers together with your own.

“I was never married,” he starts to say, knowing whether or not he’d also had a wife before the world ended would be a question on your mind—that’s if it wasn’t already. “I was never with Sarah’s mom. I met her in high school and we’d been friends up through senior year of college. We started to date then, but after a year, we realized we weren’t a good fit together. We broke up and a couple months later, we found out she was pregnant with Sarah. Her mom and me, well we both made an agreement to co-parent her as best as we could. Just a few months shy of our daughter’s first birthday, she realized she couldn’t handle raisin’ a child at our age. I tried real hard to convince her to stick around and keep tryin’ but I couldn’t get her to stay. She bailed out on me, but the worst part of it was that she bailed out on Sarah.”

He stops for a moment and you give his hand a gentle, but firm, encouraging squeeze.

“As if bein’ a father to a baby girl didn’t scare the shit of me, being a single father made it all feel so much scarier, y’know? I was young, in my early twenties. I was always workin’ so damn much, tryin’ to build my construction business with Tommy. Now I had this tiny little person to take care of, and I honestly didn’t know how the fuck I was gonna do it.” Joel pauses, his sixth sense detecting that your knees have started hurting from the position you’re in. He closes his legs together and pulls you to sit on his lap. “It wasn’t easy, and I probably made a lot more mistakes than I’d like to admit. But somehow, I made it work and it turned out alright. Sarah was my best friend in the whole entire world. Hell, I loved her more than fuckin’ life itself. She could be a handful, but she was perfect in every single way. She was my sweet little butterfly, my ray of sunshine on even the darkest of days.”

Swallowing harshly, you ask, “What happened to her, Joel?”

Joel sighs, resting a hand on your bare thigh. His fingers skim the scalloped hem of your floral shorts. “It was the first night of the outbreak. We were tryin’ to get out of Austin. Me, Sarah, and Tommy. We didn’t know where the hell we were gonna go or what we were gonna do, but we just needed to get far away from the city. We got separated at one point when our pickup truck got into an awful wreck. I had Sarah in my arms ‘cause she couldn’t walk. She’d broken her ankle in the crash. Tommy told me to get her to the river where she’d be safer, said he’d find his way over there to meet us.”

Your heart begins to pound. Part of you almost doesn’t want to hear how his story is going to end—because in a way, you already know how it’s going to end. But if Joel is telling you about Sarah, it’s for a reason. He’s opening up to you, the way you’ve opened up to him. He’s sharing his heartbreaking loss because he trusts you—and Joel Miller doesn’t trust anyone that’s not his family.

Draping an arm around his shoulders, your fingers toy with the curls at the nape of his neck as you anxiously wait for him to recount the event that follows next, the event that will surely shatter your heart into pieces.

“The streets were crawlin’ with infected. One caught us in its sights and chased after us. Tried to dodge it through a buildin’ but it followed us, runnin’ us out into a field just a mile from the river. I didn’t think we were gonna make it—then, a soldier came outta nowhere and shot it dead. It felt like some kinda fuckin’ miracle. I thought we were lucky. I thought we were gonna get some help.” His voice grows hoarse, thickening with emotions he’s not too sure he can hold back this time. “I couldn’t have been more wrong. He was given the order by his command to kill us both, even though we weren’t sick. I tried tellin’ him over and over we weren’t infected, but it didn’t matter. He shot at us. He grazed me in my side, but Sarah—he got her. Got her multiple times. I was foolish enough to think it hadn’t been fatal. I tried gettin’ her up, begged Tommy to help me—but it was useless. Sarah died in my arms. Took her very last breath in some field outside of Austin.”

“God,” you whisper shakily, a sharp, painful ache shooting through your chest at the thought of him cradling his daughter’s lifeless body in his arms, her purple shirt soaked in crimson. “Joel, I don’t—I don’t even know what to say. I’m so sorry.” Willing yourself to keep it together for his sake, you hold the back of his neck in your hand, fingers coaxing him to look up and meet your gaze.

“After that, I just didn’t see any point in carryin’ on anymore. I’d lost the most important thing in the fuckin’ world to me. I couldn’t see in the darkness now that my little ray of sunshine was gone. So, a couple nights later, I picked up my gun and tried to end my own life,” he confesses. Even though it’s been over twenty years, traces of shame still linger behind. “Put the barrel of a pistol to my temple. Told myself it was what I wanted to do and I pulled the trigger.”

Without thinking, you reach towards the scar on his right temple with your opposite hand, the one you’d noticed for the first time before he had kissed you in Ranger’s stall. You lightly brush your fingertips over the jagged, raised patch of skin. You’d wanted to ask him about it on several different occasions, but never had the courage to actually do it. Now that you know he’d gotten it from his own hand, it just makes the entire thing all that much more heart wrenching.

“M’sure you’ve guessed it by now, but I missed. I flinched and I missed. For twenty fuckin’ years, all I could do was wish I hadn’t missed. Spent a long time hatin’ myself for missin’ what should’ve been the easiest goddamn shot of my entire life. Then, Ellie came along.” Joel moves his hand, gingerly taking your chin between his thumb and index finger. “And not long after her, I met you, sweet girl. The two of you came at me outta nowhere.” He can’t help but chuckle, remembering his first encounter with Ellie, the way she had flown at him with her switchblade clutched in hand only to end up thrown against the wall. “You both came outta left fuckin’ field and brought out sides of me I thought had been dead and buried for years now. You and her, you mean more to me than I can fuckin’ explain. You’re the most important things in the world to me now.”

Your breath catches in the back of your throat at his declaration. It’s not like you didn’t know Joel cared about you. Of course you know that. But the extent to which he did had been something of a mystery, at least up until this very moment.

“I didn’t know I could feel this way ‘bout anyone again,” Joel admits. He slides his arm around you, pulling you closer to him. “Openin’ up my heart to Ellie, that was one thing. But openin’ it up to you? That’s been somethin’ else, peach. I don’t think you even realize the hold you’ve got over me and my heart. What really fuckin’ gets me is that you don’t even gotta try. All you gotta do is look at me with those eyes and give me that pretty smile of yours, and I’m fuckin’ done for. You’ve got me wrapped all the way around your little finger and then back again, baby. Y’need to know that I’d do just ‘bout fuckin’ anythin’ for you. You understand that?”

You stare at him like a deer caught in headlights.

“Joel,” you stammer his name, your nerve endings feeling like they’ve been lit on fire. “You really need to stop talking like that.”

“Why’s that?”

You don’t even think—you just blurt the words out before you can stop them.

“Because I think I’m falling in love with you.”

The tables turn and it’s now Joel who is at a complete loss for words.

Embarrassed by your own admission, you begin to ramble nervously. “Look, I know it’s ridiculous. We haven’t known each other long, but I can’t help it. And maybe it’s for the best if you know where I stand and how I feel. You still have time to back out of this—”

Still holding your chin, Joel carefully brings your face toward his, silencing you by slotting his lips to yours. He moves to cup the side of your face in his palm, forgetting about any kind of softness as he greedily licks into your mouth. He’s kissed you plenty of times before and you thought you knew all of his kisses well enough by now, but you’d been wrong. This one is different from all the rest. His lips move against yours in a possessive manner, but not the kind of possessive you’re used with Luke. No, with Joel, it isn’t a possessive stemming from control and abuse, rather, it’s out of pure need, want, and desire. Even as his mouth devours yours, there’s still a sweet, loving tenderness to it.

“Joel,” you whimper against him. “I—”

You falter, unable to say those three words. There’s something holding you back—maybe it’s fear. Maybe it’s knowing that once you say them, you can’t take them back. Not that you would. But it’s a big step, and you’re not quite ready to say it, even if it is how you feel.

And he feels the same.

He deepens the embrace.

I love you.

Joel might not be ready to say it either, but he hopes the way he’s holding you and swelling your lips with his puts your mind at ease and reassures you that you’re not the only one who’s falling.

You shift yourself in his lap, moving to straddle him, your legs on either side of his thighs as your mouths remain fused to one another. He reaches and grabs for every single part of you that he can, running his hands all over you from your shoulders down to your hips, dragging lower until they’re unabashedly cupping the delicious curves of your ass. You whimper in his mouth again and the moment your lips part, his tongue takes advantage, darting inside to start the heated, unhinged dance with your own.

You clutch at his shoulders, your fingers curling around tight around fistfuls of his t-shirt in an attempt, and a very desperate one at that, to keep yourself planted on the ground. You hold on trying to keep yourself tethered to planet earth, but with the way his searing hot mouth moves with yours in perfect unison, it’s impossible. You’re free falling without a safety net, and you don’t even care.

Seating yourself completely on his lap, you feel the bulge of his cock straining against the zipper of his jeans and the wetness pools between your thighs.

Letting go of his shirt, you reach around him and bury your fingers in his curls, lightly tipping his head back as your tongue explores his mouth like it’s the first time all over again. Joel tastes like the sweet fruit you’d shared, a strange mix when combined with the mint from his toothpaste. But there’s something else he tastes like and you’ve tasted it several times before, however even after all this time, you still can’t figure out what it could be. It tastes like Joel. That’s the only way you can think of to describe it. It just tastes like Joel and it’s addicting and you want it on your lips for the rest of your life.

After a minute, you and Joel finally force yourselves apart, your lungs and his begging for oxygen.

“Joel,” you choke his name between heavy pants for air.

“Baby.” He’s about as breathless as you are, possibly even more. “Baby, please. I’ve gotta have you,” he pleads, hands now splayed on the small of your back. “Please. I fuckin’ need you. Or else m’gonna lose my goddamn fuckin’ mind.”

“Barn,” you rasp out, releasing your grip on his hair.

Confused, Joel’s eyebrows knit together. “Barn?”

“Barn,” you repeat as you climb off of him.

You’re unsteady—incredibly unsteady. Knees wobbling, legs trembling and feeling like they’re seconds away from giving out underneath you. But you hold a hand out to Joel, exhaling a tiny, labored grunt as you help him up off the ground. Grabbing his blanket, you give it a shake before taking his hand in yours and leading him around to the front of the barn. Dropping his hand, you use both of yours to slide one of the double doors open an inch or two and take a peek inside to make sure the coast is clear. You then slide the door open a bit further, just wide enough for you and Joel to slip inside.

“Wait a minute,” he chuckles as he watches you slide the door closed. “How’d y’know it would be unlocked?”

“I didn’t know it would be unlocked. I was just hoping we’d get lucky,” you admit, beckoning him for him to follow you. “Come on.”

Through various cracks and gaps and open windows, enough moonlight filters into the barn, shining a decent amount of light into the structure—enough so that it’s not pitch black and you two are left stumbling around in complete darkness.

Joel glances around. The last time he’d been inside the barn was back in June for the summer party. He remembered it having been cleaned and cleared out for the event and now, two months later, it’s packed to the rafters with countless bales of hay. In retrospect, he shouldn’t have been surprised. But as he walks, piles of loose dried grass and herbs crunch underneath his boots and he remarks, “There’s fuckin’ hay everywhere, darlin’.”

“Um, yeah. What else do you keep in a barn?” you jeer lightly, earning yourself a small scoff from him. “Hey, at least they don’t keep sheep and other livestock in here, Joel. Besides, beggars can’t be choosers, right?”

Joel snorts, masking his laughter at the thought of walking into a barn full of animals instead of an absurd amount of hay. “Yeah, guess that’s fair enough,” he concedes. “Might kill the mood if that were the case.”

You lead him over towards one of the far corners of the barn, your eyes falling to a large, almost bed sized pile of loose hay. Draping the blanket over it, you stand upright and then freeze, your body flooding with nerves once you realize what’s inevitably about to happen between you and Joel.

You hadn’t done anything with him since the night he’d pleasured you out on his front porch. Of course you wanted more, so much more, but that doesn’t make you any less nervous. You’re so much younger, hardly have any experience—you’ve only ever been with one man, and even then, it hardly counts. It’s been such a long time since you’d found sex something you wanted, something you enjoyed. Whenever Luke touches you, it makes your skin crawl, but when Joel Miller touches you?

It sets you ablaze, leaves you needing more of it. Of him.

Part of you wonders if your touch makes him feel the same. What if it doesn’t?

His arms wrap around your waist from behind and you exhale the breath you’d been holding shakily.

“What’s the matter, darlin’?” Joel murmurs softly into your hair, sensing your pensiveness.

“I’m just really nervous,” you blurt out.

“S’okay,” he says, quietly. “M’kinda nervous too.”

You’re slightly taken aback. “Really? What are you nervous about?”

Joel rests his chin on your shoulder. “We’ve both crossed a lot of lines already, peach. But this one? S’gonna be the one we can’t come back from,” he tells you. “Might be what seals the deal between us, y’know?”

Slowly, you turn around to face him. “Yeah, I know,” you respond, peeking up at him through your eyelashes. “And I know I should care, but I don’t. It’s wrong, isn’t it?”

“S’wrong,” he agrees with a tight nod. “But I don’t care either, sweet girl.”

Before you can utter another word about it, Joel crashes his mouth onto yours. He snakes one of his arms around you and lifts the other, cupping the back of your neck as he ravages you with his lips and tongue, kissing you with such urgency, such desperation that it melts you into a whimpering mess in his arms. Your mind is hopelessly lost in a thick, cloudy haze—all you can focus on is breathing him into your lungs like he’s the air you need to stay alive. His hands fall down to the hem of your white camisole and his mouth abandons yours to pull it over your head. He discards it, tossing it over his shoulder somewhere behind him. He then pushes your shorts and underwear down your legs and you kick them off along with your shoes. You’re now standing before him completely naked.

Desperate to feel his skin against yours, you take the hem of his t-shirt and clumsily tug it over his head, eliciting a laugh from him. You throw it somewhere over his shoulder to join yours and your hands eagerly meet his warm, bare chest for the first time. Biting down on your bottom lip, your trembling fingertips brush over several bumps and rough, raised patches of skin that you know have to be his scars. He has so many, and all you want to do is kiss each and every single one of them, but Joel has other ideas. He pulls you into his arms, flush against his chest, and he holds you tightly.

More often than not, Joel feels as if you’re not real—worries that you’re just a perfect, flawless figment of his own imagination. He doesn’t know whether or not you’ve caught onto what he’s been doing, but he steals moments like these whenever he can, moments where he stands there and takes you into his arms and holds you without saying a word.

It’s his own way of reminding himself that not only are you real, but you’re real and you’re his. Joel doesn’t care about the fucking ring on your finger. He doesn’t care that you’re promised to another man. He doesn’t care that he can only hold you in secret, that he can’t walk next you down the streets of Jackson in broad daylight and hold your hand while doing so. He doesn’t get to share a roof or a bed with you and he doesn’t get to join you for dinner at the table every night—maybe this isn’t how he preferred things to be, but he just doesn’t care.

It doesn’t matter to him.

Nothing matters to him except for one thing.

Your heart belongs to him. It bleeds with his name.

You’re his. You’re all fucking his, and only his, in all the ways that truly matter.

And he is yours.

Joel chokes out a strained groan as you press your plush lips softly against his neck, your tongue swiping across his pulse point. You firmly suckle his flesh, hard enough to break the tiny blood vessels underneath his skin and once you’ve left your mark, you trail your lips down his neck, eliciting another strangled noise from him. You sweep them over his collarbone, then down the length of his chest, showing each scar you come across with the affection it deserves. Your teeth nip and scrape at the softness of his belly and you quickly discover that it’s one of your favorite parts of him. Lowering yourself to your knees, your nose skims over the trail of dark, coarse hair below his navel and your fingers suggestively skim the waistband of his jeans.

His eyes widen. “You ain’t gotta do that—”

“I already told you, Joel. I want to,” you assure him, your voice low, sexy, filled with a lust for him and only for him. You make yourself comfortable, a challenging feat since you’d overshot the blanket and are now kneeling directly on the itchy, dried grass. It doesn’t matter, though—you’re more than willing to deal with discomfort for him. You place a hand on his hip and peer up at him. Your eyes meet his in the milky white moonlight. “You made me feel good. Please, just let me do the same for you?”

The nod he gives you is so subtle, so quick, that you almost don’t catch it.

He’d grown tense beneath your touch.

You can’t help but laugh softly—not at him, but at the fact that he doesn’t realize that pleasuring him isn’t a want for you, it’s a need.

Gently, you pat his hip. “Relax, honey,” you encourage him, surprised at how the pet name rolls off your tongue with such natural ease.

Your hands reach for the button of his jeans and you swiftly undo it, then tug at his zipper. You start pulling the denim down his legs. Joel helps you, kicking off his worn, black leather boots before stepping out of his jeans, kicking the article of clothing off to the side. Heart racing in anticipation, you slide his dark boxer briefs down his legs, but stop short, breath hitching the second you feast your eyes on his cock. You’ve felt him through his clothes before, knew he was well endowed, but you’re still shocked to see just how big he really is. The mere thought of his hard, thick length filling you up and stretching your cunt makes your entire body ache with need. You can’t be certain how he’ll fit, but truth be told, he could tear you in half and you would thank him for it.

Joel draws in a quick, sharp breath when he feels your small hand wrap around his base. Just as fast as he’d breathed it in, it’s knocked back out of his lungs when your other hand joins in and you run your fingertips along the thick, prominent vein on the underside of his cock. He twitches in your hands—you’ve hardly touched him, haven’t even put your mouth on him, and he’s already teetering on the edge.

“Christ, baby. You’re gonna be the fuckin’ death of me, I hope y’know that,” Joel croaks, tilting his head back to look up at the rafters as he silently wills himself not to explode too soon. His hips involuntarily jerk forward as you lick his tip, collecting his leaking precome on your tongue before wrapping your soft lips around it. Another loud, ragged groan tears from the back of his throat as you take him in slowly, inch by inch, further into your warm, wet mouth. Your own moaning around him causes a vibrating sensation, making it harder for Joel to keep himself from spilling into your mouth.

“Fuck, peach,” he curses, feeling the head of his cock nudge the back of your throat. He’s more than a mouthful for you, but you accept the challenge with eagerness and take him in further, gagging around him as drool dribbles down the sides of your chin. You, the same woman who just moments ago had said she was nervous about being intimate with him—whoever that woman had been, she was long fucking gone.

Joel’s eyes flit down and he sinks his teeth hard into his lower lip. He can see your silhouette as you work him with that pretty little mouth of yours. One glance is all he can handle before he’s squeezing his eyes shut, the pressure building in his lower abdomen and already dangerously close to reaching its peak. If Joel so much as looks at you again, he’ll come down your throat, and that’s not where he’s planning on finishing tonight.

You bob your head back and forth on his cock, your eyes watering each time he slips past the back of your throat—your cheeks hollow as you suck him greedily, and you alternate between that and stroking his long, thick shaft, your tongue swirling around his head.

Without opening his eyes, Joel reaches down with his hand and cradles the back of your head in his palm. The sounds that fill the barn are nothing short of obscene. His grunts and groans mixed together with the sounds of the moans you’d release in between your wet and sloppy slurping. He forces his eyes open and bravely takes another look at you, his heart slamming painfully against his sternum as you move your head faster, chasing his release as if you’re chasing your own.

“Fuck, baby—wait, stop. Need you to stop.” Joel’s hand leaves the back of your head and he cups your jaw, gently, but firmly, forcing you to release his cock from your mouth with an audible pop. “Ain’t gonna last much longer, not if you keep on like that.”

“Isn’t that the whole point?” you ask, smirking up at him as you wipe the mixture of his precome and your saliva away from your chin with the back of your hand.

Joel leans over and takes your arms, effortlessly yanking you up to your feet. His hand dives between your thighs to get a feel—to find whether you’re ready to take him or not. He slips two fingers between your soaked folds without so much as a warning, causing you to gasp out and grip his biceps, your fingernails digging into the firm muscle. Joel withdraws his hand from your cunt, admiring the way his digits come back coated with your slick. He looks at you, his eyes locking with yours as he lifts his hand to his mouth and slowly licks his fingers clean.

That alone nearly makes you come undone, almost makes you melt into a pathetic, whimpering mess at his feet.

“Joel,” you say his name pleadingly. “Please.”

Sliding his fingers out of his mouth, he steps forwards and curls them around your wrist. “What is it, my sweet little peach? Hm? What do you want?”

“You. I want you,” you answer. You’re quick to correct yourself. “No, I need you. I fucking need you—I need you more than anything I’ve ever needed in my life, Joel.”

Leaning down, Joel skims the tip of his nose against your cheek before bringing it down along your jawline. “Where, darlin’?” he whispers huskily, sending a shiver up your spine. “Where do you need me, baby?”

Your mouth falls open slightly unable to say it. You don’t know why you’re suddenly shy, flustered as if you just hadn’t been down on your knees gagging around his cock.

“Tell me, peach,” he coaxes you gently with another low whisper. “Tell me where you need me. Tell me where you need my cock, sweetheart. Need to hear you say it.”

“Inside me.” Blazing heat floods your face. “I need you inside of me—I need you to fuck me. Please, Joel.”

“So polite ‘bout it, too,” he remarks. “What a good girl.”

Though he says it in a teasing manner, his praise nearly makes you collapse.

“You like that,” he realizes, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards. “Yeah, baby? Y’like it when I call you a good girl?”

“Fuck, I—yes, I do,” you confess.

“C’mere.” Joel wraps an arm around your waist, hand splayed over your back as he lowers you down onto the blanket. He follows suit. You both let out breathy laughs at the way your naked bodies sink down into the pile of hay. Propping himself up with his arm, Joel looks down at you, his smile fading as a serious expression crosses his features. He tucks a lock of hair behind your ear, finger grazing the silkiness of your cheek. “Y’sure ‘bout this, peach? Ain’t too late to stop.”

Smiling softly, you lift a hand to the side of his face, your fingers stroking his graying beard. “I’ve never been so sure about anything, Joel,” you promise him. “If you could take a peek into my mind, you would see how bad I want this, how bad I need this—how bad I need you. I don’t want to stop.” And you don’t just mean the sex. You don’t any of this to stop—the secret, late night meetings, the stolen kisses, the illicit affair. “I’m sure about this. I’m sure about you, Joel.”

That’s all he needs to hear.

Joel reaches down between your bodies, gripping his base, pumping his throbbing cock in his fist before lining himself up at your sopping entrance. Adrenaline courses through your veins—every nerve ending in your body is going up in flames. You spread your legs wider for him, hoping he’ll understand the nonverbal cue. He does. He begins to ease himself into your cunt and you hook a leg around his waist, encouraging him to go deeper. The barn fills with the sound of his grunt and your loud cry at the initial stretch. He sinks his cock further into you until he bottoms out and you cry out again, feeling a delicious burning sensation as he cradles his hips between your thighs.

“M’gonna need you to relax a little sweetheart,” he whispers gently, ceasing his movements to give your body a chance to adjust to him. Joel takes advantage of having you pinned underneath him with your head thrown back and his lips latch onto your neck, hungrily. He fervently kisses his way down the column of your throat, nips his way to your collarbone—but unlike you, he’s careful to do so without leaving any kind of mark behind. He would give anything to have the freedom to leave traces of his loving all over you. Maybe it’s the heat of the moment and the way he’s buried inside you to the hilt that brings out the primal in him, but Joel wouldn’t mind seeing you walk around Jackson covered in his love bites. He wants everyone to know he’s the one who’d left them behind, needs them to understand that you’re his. But that isn’t possible. Joel lifts his head from the hollow of your neck and nibbles lightly at your chin. “You alright, baby?”

Forcing your eyes open, you lift your head and bring yourself to look at him. At first, you feel discomfort, but after a minute, your body finally relaxes around him and it subsides. It’s replaced with the burning desire to feel more of him. The pretty glow coming in from outside the barn illuminates his face and you smile. “I’m better than alright. I’m perfect,” you assure him. You place a hand delicately on his chest, feeling his heart thrum hard against your fingertips. “This is perfect.”

Joel kisses the tip of your nose. He slides out of you slowly, then right back into you in an experimental thrust that brings your body off the blanket, your back arching in sheer pleasure. It’s such a deliciously tight fit, and he almost can’t believe how fucking good it feels to be sheathed in your taut heat. He drops his head, taking your breast into his mouth, tongue swirling around your hardened nipple as he bucks his hips once more. He’s being careful. Too careful.

“Joel—I need you to move,” you gasp. You drag a hand down his chest and over his soft stomach, letting your fingernails rake lightly over his flushed skin. It’s warm to the touch, covered in a thin sheen of sweat. “Joel, please. Fuck me.”

Thankfully, you don’t have to tell him twice.

Joel releases the pebbled flesh from his mouth with a loud, lewd pop. He pulls his cock out of your dribbling pussy, then slams back into you with such force that he places a hand on the crown of your head, keeping you in place underneath him on the blanket. You wrap your own leg around him, locking your ankles together, your heels digging into the firm curve of his ass. You lift your hips just as he rolls his own right into them. The new angle gives Joel the opportunity to fuck you even deeper and he hits the sensitive, spongy spot inside you, making you see stars. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you hold onto him, moans you’ve never heard come out of your own mouth before ringing in your ears and in his. He starts picking up his pace.

“Baby.” He’s breathless and speaks between every snap of his hips. “Fuck, y’feel s’good—s’tight around me—”

“Don’t stop, Joel. God, please don’t fucking stop,” you plead him, your finger burying themselves in his hair. “Keep going, just like that—fuck, you feel so fucking good inside me—”

You bite down on your bottom lip, adoring how Joel squeezes his dark eyes shut each and every single time the head of his cock brushes that one particularly deep spot inside of you. Knowing that you and your body has this kind of an effect on him, it gives you a boost of confidence. You’ve spent the last couple of years allowing a pathetic excuse of a man—if one could even call him that—pick on you, say things about your body, and make you feel like your inability to conceive a child made you defective. Worthless, even. And here’s a real man, one who makes you feel beautiful with the way he talks to you, the way he kisses you, touches you, and fucks you. You’re not perfect by any means, but Joel Miller makes you feel what your own husband doesn’t.

He makes you feel like you’re enough. More than enough.

The barn fills with a combination of moaning, panting, and the sound of damp skin slapping against damp skin.

Glancing down at you, Joel shakes his head and warns, “Ain’t gonna last much longer, baby. M’so goddamn close.”

An unexpected wave of courage washes over you. Planting your hands firmly on his chest, you take him by complete surprise and slide out from underneath him. A small grunt escapes him as you push him onto his back. Amused, you can’t help but giggle at the shocked expression on his face as you guide him to lie down on the flannel blanket. Eager to see his reaction, you keep your eyes trained on his face as you straddle his lap. You grip the base of his cock in your hand and then slowly sink down onto him, your cunt greedily squeezing him as you slide down until you’re fully seated.

Joel’s jaw falls slack. It’s the most stunning sight he’s ever seen.

You, completely naked on top of him, your pouty lips plump and swollen from his kisses. Your smooth, supple skin glows in the moonlight shining through the open window behind you. All while every inch of Joel’s cock was buried deep inside of you, head nudging at your cervix. Eyes glimmering devilishly, the sexiest little smirk tugs at the corners of your mouth. “Like what you see?”

He tries to speak, but he can’t.

You’ve rendered him speechless.

Grabbing his hands in yours, you guide them to your hips. His blood roars in his ears and his fingers dig into the pillowy soft flesh, holding on as you begin to rock them back and forth. You throw your head back, your hair spilling over your shoulder. The friction of your clit against his pelvis heightens your pleasure. Joel had thought he would be the one to topple over the edge first, but he’d been wrong.

Eyes pinching shut, you start bouncing yourself on his cock, your desperation mounting. You feel the tension between your hips coiling back tightly, ready to snap forward.

“Fuck, Joel—I’m gonna—I’m so fucking close.”

“Yeah, that’s it. Fuckin’ come for me, baby,” Joel encourages you, his fingers digging even harder into your hips. One of his hands abandons your side and he reaches up and gently takes your slackened jaw in the palm of his hand. He coaxes you to look down at him. “Need you to be a good girl and look at me, peach,” he instructs you, slipping his thumb between your parted lips. “Need to see that pretty face of yours when you come all over my cock, sweetheart.”

“Oh fuck—fuckfuckfuck!”

Crying out, you unravel and fall apart all over him, the ecstasy blurring the edges of your vision.

It doesn’t take Joel much longer to follow. He lets out a low, guttural growl, choking out a string of profanities as he slams you down onto his lap and holds you in place, spurts of warm come coating your velvet walls. Your pussy squeezes him, draining him of every last drop.

You collapse forward onto him in a sweaty, whimpering mess and he wraps his arms around you. With him still inside you, you both lay there and try to catch your breaths as the high slowly but surely begins to wear off.

After a few minutes, Joel pulls out of you and he shifts your bodies, moving you so you’re now laying beside him. Tucking you against his side, he slides his arm around your shoulders and pulls you even closer. His other hand finds one of yours and he takes it, bringing them both to rest on his chest.

“You alright?” he asks you, lacing his fingers together with yours.

“I’m great,” you answer him tiredly, prompting him to chuckle. “What about you?”

Joel strokes at your hair. “Never been better, sweet girl.”

You groan. “Joel, don’t do that,” you mumble into his shoulder. “You’re going to put me right to sleep.”

He laughs again. “We’ve still got a bit more time, y’know. If you’re tired, you can take a quick nap. I can wake you up in ‘bout an hour when it’s time to head home.”

“No, that’s okay,” you decline the offer, worried he would accidentally fall asleep too. “I really wish we could sleep together—I mean, actually sleep together. In an actual bed. Not having to worry about anything. Just like normal couples do.”

“Well, we ain’t exactly a normal couple, darlin��.”

“No, we’re definitely not,” you murmur. You don’t even realize how sad you’d sounded until you feel Joel give your shoulders a comforting squeeze.

Neither of you say anything else about it as you spend the next hour laying there, tangled up in each other’s embrace, waiting until it was time to go your separate ways.

1K notes · View notes

cowgurrrl · 1 year

Text

Nobody asked but here are my headcanons for Joel as the ultimate girl dad™️

Gets Ellie into a routine as soon as possible so she knows what to expect in her day-to-day life. There’s not much he can guarantee outside of their home but he can make sure she eats, does her homework, and is off to bed at the same time every night.

Speaking of bed, he’s the dad who has a STRICT bedtime set. He can’t sleep until he knows Ellie is safe in bed and even though she’s a teenager he still makes her be in bed by 10 but he absolutely can be persuaded to let her stay up with a long game of cards, guitar lessons, or a movie.

Before Ellie, he would’ve been reckless if it meant keeping Jackson safe but now that he knows she’s relying on him he does things slower and safer.

Maria teaches him how to cut hair so he can help Ellie because he knows how hard it is for her to trust other people especially when they have something that could be used as a weapon so close to her head.

Definitely pushed her into the river while teaching her how to swim. She was pissed and didn’t talk to him until after dinner.

Ellie becomes known as “Joel’s girl” and neither of them correct anybody who says it

Slips notes into Ellie’s backpack when she’s not looking so when she gets to math class and opens her notebook, a sticky note with Joel all-caps handwriting falls out and reads, Why was the toilet paper unstoppable? And on the other side it says, because it was on a roll

He laughed about it for ten minutes before forgetting about it

Ellie secretly keeps all of his notes in a box under her bed

Teaches her how to play football in the spring when all the snow has melted and accuses her of cheating when she scores against him

“How could I cheat? It’s fucking football!” “You’re abusing an old man, you know that?”

Although Ellie never calls Joel dad, there’s an unspoken agreement between them. Joel hated Father’s Day after Sarah died but that Father’s Day they settled, two bouquets of flowers show up on the dining room table with a note from Ellie.

Saw these and thought of you, the note reads. One from me and one from her.

He cries the first time he gets them. He can’t remember the last time anyone gave him flowers.

Lord help the teacher who has to call Joel in for his first parent-teacher conference in twenty years. Everyone is Jackson knows how protective he is over Ellie and her teacher is only slightly terrified of him.

Ellie constantly steals Joel’s shirts and he pretends not to notice

He’s always looking for new tapes for her Walkman and asks every group that comes through Jackson if they have anything

Ellie ends up with three new tapes to listen to by the end of their first year of being settled

Joel knows he’s probably doing a million things wrong and danger is always lurking and the time they have together is fleeting but he does his best to be good for her. He apologizes when he yells, he shows up to her first guitar recital, and constantly reminds her how loved she is even if there aren’t always words exchanged

Sometimes it’s a hug, the squeeze of a hand, or a ruffle of hair but they both know it means so much more. Giving and receiving affection would’ve been seen as a show of weakness in Boston, a vulnerability that others can play into. Here, love doesn’t have to hide or be shunned to the dark corners of their lives. They can just be.

Who knew Ellie tripping Joel while playing football in the spring meadow meant so much more than anyone else thought?

Tumblr if you delete my last paragraph one more time I’m going to gnaw my arm off

#joel miller headcanon #joel miller fluff #joel and ellie #ellie williams #ellie miller #joel miller #joel miller the last of us #joel miller drabble #joel miller x reader #the last of us x reader #the last of us hbo #the last of us #ellie williams headcanons #i wrote this for me but you can read it too i guess #pushing my Joel Miller girl dad agenda once again

1K notes · View notes

atinylittlepain · 11 months

Text

Nothing to Hide - A Joel Miller Story

no outbreak!joel miller x f!reader

joel miller masterlist

she learns a couple new things about her man over the course of a night.

warnings | 18+ SMUT, and nothing but(t), yes this is a pegging fic

a/n | it's here! welcome, everyone, to the inaugural night of the Peg that Middle-Aged Man Campaign 2023! over the course of the next week or so, I as well as a handful of my favorite writers will be putting out some excellent fics under this campaign for the whole spectrum of Pedro Pascalian characters! so keep your eye out! much more to come, muahahahaha

i know for a fact that both @beskarandblasters and @wannab-urs will be posting or have already posted two other spectacular PMAMC fics on this fine evening, so go check those out as well!

.......................................................

“What is that?”

“Don’t– you can’t laugh.”

“Oh my god, Joel. What the fuck is it?”

“Well what d’you think it is?”

“I think you lost a bet is what I think.” He’s silent for a moment, his lack of a reply all the answer she needs to burst out into laughter.

“No, really?” Joel lets out a huff.

“I was really really drunk and dumb, ok? Jesus, woman, stop looking at it!” She stifles her laugh enough to turn him around by his shoulder so he’s facing her, running a quick hand through his curls, his face flushed and set in a scowl.

“Oh, baby, I’m gonna be looking at it a lot with what I’m about to do to you.” She can see the bob of his throat in the faint light of her bedroom, the way his eyes go a touch hazy, drooping under his lashes. He’s pretty, something she’s known since they started dating, though she also knows he’d probably short-circuit if she ever called him that. But tonight, she intends to treat him like it, giving, providing, where he’s always so eager to do the same.

“Why don’t you lay out on the bed for me, handsome?” He gives her a jerky nod, seeming to think twice before he cups her cheek in his palm, dragging a hot kiss from her before he complies. He’s still in his boxers, long expanses of tan, bare strength laid out on her sheets, propped up on his elbows to watch her as she rifles through a dresser drawer to find a few things. His eyes widen when she turns back to him, baby pink strap in one hand and a bottle of lube in the other.

“Don’t worry about it, baby. We’re gonna work you up to it, ok? And if you don’t like anything, just tell me and I’ll stop.” It’s setting heat threading through her core, thick and warm, the silk of her panties sticking to her cunt from the pulse of arousal, coaxed on by the stark contrast of how he normally is to how she gets him right now. Her man, always in control, always the strong one, the dominant one, the giver, laying it all willingly at her feet.

It had started with a bit of pillow talk one night. Joel knew that she had been with women in the past, but he had never been so bold as to ask anything about it, not until that night, drunk on sweat and sex, a boyish grin slipping across his lips, turning dark and reverential fast when she was more than happy to tell him about her experience, going so far as to show him the toys she had held onto. But what she hadn’t been expecting was Joel Miller, the walking homage to southern masculinity, asking his next question.

“You ever used that, um, with– with men?”

They had talked about it more afterward, Joel eager to bring it up, ask questions, seemingly just as perplexed as she was that he was so interested in it.

“I don’t know, I mean– never thought about something like this before. But, with you it just– fuck, it seems kinda hot.”

And that’s how they’ve ended up here, her kneeling between his spread legs on her bed, palms rubbing up and down his thighs as she leans over and lays a kiss to the little swell of his belly, smiling against the jump of his muscles.

“Relax for me, Joel. I promise I’m gonna take good care of you. You trust me, right?”

“I– yeah, I do.” She slides one palm up from his thigh to his chest, pressing lightly to get him to lay back.

“Then just let me do all the work, alright? Gonna make you feel good.” With that, she draws her attention back down to the waistband of his boxers, hooking her fingers in the sides to tug them down and off his legs before settling back between his thighs, her fingers tapping the joints of his knees as a light command.

“Can you bend your knees for me, baby? Need you a little more opened up than this.” She’s surprised by the groan he lets out at her simple question, a breathless shake of his head.

“Fuck, I– you– that–” She cuts off his floundering, her palm rubbing a soothing circle against his chest.

“Hey, if you don’t feel comfortable, we don’t have to do anything different, seriously.” “No! I mean, no, I want to. It’s just– different. But different’s good. I’m good.” How could she say no to that?

“Ok, baby, I’m gonna warm you up. You tell me if I do anything you don’t like, alright?” He nods, his eyes staying glued on hers as she ducks back down, lips ghosting over the underside of his already hard cock before lapping gently at the tip. She works him over with her mouth for a while, taking him down as far as she can, her hand stroking the rest, reveling in the way his muscles slacken and tense beneath her ministrations, the way he starts to let himself go to the pleasure, his head pressed back into the pillows, eyes scrunched shut, shaky pants and curses leaving his lips. When it seems like she’s gotten him nice and relaxed, she pulls off of him, continuing to lap at his length while she fumbles around for her bottle of lube, spreading a dollop between her palms before getting her hands on his length.

“Just want you to get used to the feel of this stuff, alright, baby?” He hisses at the cool contact, but lets out a breathy, low-rumbled uh-huh as she swirls her slicked-up palm down his cock, slipping her hand down to cup his balls, a move that sets a broken groan thrumming in his throat. Her other hand presses against his thigh, getting him to open up more for her as she slips a finger down a little further, finding that tight ring of muscle and applying a bit of pressure, Joel’s hips bucking up at the sensation.

“Easy, baby, gotta stay relaxed for me if I’m gonna open you up.” He lets out a disbelieving laugh, throwing his head back as she presses her finger in, her other hand lazily stroking his cock as she does.

“Jesus, fuck– you’re good, so fucking good. Never felt anything like this be-before.” She smiles up at him, pressing a kiss to his hip as she slowly pumps her finger inside of him, only stopping to lathe more lube over her hand.

“Think you can take another one, baby? You ready for that?” He nods, a long sigh leaving his lips, but that’s not good enough for her.

“Need words, Joel. You gotta tell me what you want.”

“I– yes, more, please. Want more.” To get a please out of Joel Miller is no small feat, and she revels in it, just a little, easing a second finger in along her first one, stretching him out even more. He’s a vision, chest flushed, cheeks ablaze, one hand tugging at his mussed-up hair, the other balled into a tight fist in the sheets as she works him open. It’s messy as hell, lube slicking up everything, dripping between his thighs, his cock throbbing in her hand, his words a filthy slur of praise and curses that go straight to her aching core.

“Do you wanna finish like this, baby? Or do you wanna take it a little further?”

“More, yeah, want you– want you to go further.” She slips her fingers out of him with a smile, crawling further up the bed to steal a kiss, his mouth insistent and devouring before she pulls away with a lewd smack. His eyes trail up and down her body as she stands at the foot of the bed, first slipping her bra off, followed by her panties, before reaching for the strap. And he’s an intent and willing audience, following the way she slides the harness over her hips, deft fingers fitting it snug to her body.

“Can I have you on all fours, handsome?” He moves tentatively, a dazed look on his face when he glances over his shoulder at her, trying to watch as she spreads lube over her silicone dick. Her eyes, meanwhile, are focused back on the thing she had been so shocked to see earlier, moreso surprised that he had somehow managed to hide it from her over the months that they’ve been dating. Thick, dark ink, one of those culturally insensitive, faux-tribal numbers she’s sure he walked into a parlor and just pointed at on the wall, goaded on by Tommy and his construction crew buddies no doubt. There’s no two ways about it, Joel Miller has a tramp stamp, and she can’t help but lay a giggling kiss to it, causing him to let out a huff over his shoulder.

“I’m gonna get it removed, ok? Just– haven’t gotten around to it yet.”

“And what if I kinda like it?” She can barely keep a straight face saying it, biting back a laugh as he huffs at her again, though she’s quick to soothe him, running a palm up his spine before her hand settles at his hip.

“I’m sorry, baby, no more teasing. You ready for me?” When all he does is nod, she taps him on the ass, a few pats of her palm seeming to remind him what she wants.

“Yes, fuck, ready.” She keeps one palm splayed over his lower back (and his tattoo), holding him steady as she slowly presses forward, easing him into it with gentle rocks of her hips. He’s breathing hard, little groans loosing from his chest, but he doesn’t tell her to stop, letting out a long sigh when she’s finally seated fully inside. She curls over him, pressing a kiss to his shoulder, her words a faint rasp into his skin.

“Doing so good for me, Joel. Tell me when you want me to move, baby, take your time.” He cranes his neck, looking for a kiss she’s happy to give him, a desperate tangle that’s still so sweet.

“You can move, I just– fuck– it’s good, feels really fucking good.” It’s what she wants, wants him to feel good, and to keep feeling good, leaning slightly back on her knees to find a slow rhythm with her hips, one hand reaching around to stroke his throbbing cock, Joel letting out a harsh moan when she does. She’s never heard these sounds from him before, broken grunts and breathy chants of her name with each thrust of her hips, completely losing himself in the sensation. She curls back over him, her hips set in a deep grind as she drags her lips over his temple.

“That feel good, baby? Nice to have someone take care of you, huh? Taking it so good, Joel. You gonna come for me? Gonna let me have it?”

“Jesus fucking christ, feels so fucking good– you’re gonna kill me, shit– fucking close, so fucking close.” With one more pass of her hand over his cock, one more rock of her hips, he comes on a punched-out exhale, slumping down onto his elbows with a shuddering heave. She presses kisses all over his shoulder blades as she pulls out, trying to soothe the hiss he lets out at the ache, quick to guide him onto his back so he doesn't flop down into a pool of his own spend. If he hears her low-murmured be right back, he doesn’t show it, forearm slung over his face, chest still heaving as she slips out of the bedroom to get him a glass of water.

“Is this how you feel? After we– when I– when we–” She cuts off his stumbling question with a light laugh, sitting down on the side of the bed next to him and coaxing a few sips of water out of him.

“So you liked it?” He quirks a brow at her, one of his hands coming to rest on her thigh, squeezing the swell of it when she laughs again at his expression.

“Gotta be honest, darlin, my expectations were low. Kinda wanted to try it just to see, I guess. But fuck, that was, uh, that was something else.” She can’t help herself, leaning down for a quick kiss that he chases after with a much deeper one, greedy hands squeezing and pulling until she’s getting dragged onto his lap, wincing at the slick stick of it and pulling away.

“What? What’s wrong? C’mon, darlin, wanna take care of you now.” Though he tries to pull her back in for a kiss, she plants a firm palm on his forehead to hold him back, stifling a laugh at his perplexed expression.

“That sounds nice, but you are covered in lube and it’s sticking to everything. Can we continue this in the shower, baby?” Ever the gentleman, Joel acquiesces to her request, letting her get up before shuffling into the bathroom in all his bare glory to get the water warmed up.

It’s an irresistible urge, walking into the bathroom, seeing his back facing her, his cute little ass and the hilarious art just above it, and she just has to give a quick pinch to his hip before raking her nails over the ink, grinning at him as he turns around with an exasperated huff.

“Ain’t ever gonna let me live this down, are you?”

“That depends, do you have any other tattoos you’ve been hiding from me?” His grin goes smarmy, drawing a gasp out of her when he pulls her into him with a hooked arm around her waist, pressing a hard kiss to her lips.

“Nothing else to hide, darlin. Think you’ve seen it all now.”

...........................

tags for folks who i think would enjoy this lmao: @wannab-urs @beskarandblasters @jksprincess10 @cutesyscreenname @swiftispunk @northernbluess @pr0ximamidnight

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #tlou #tlou fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller angst #the last of us #joel miller fluff #joel miller smut #joel miller one shot #joel miller au #joel miller fic #joel miller imagine

503 notes · View notes

brighttears · 11 months

Note

I have a request!!

I cannot stop thinking about Joel noticing that the reader leans into his touch but is scared to initiate anything herself. So when he finds out that her ex made her feel insecure for being clingy, he immediately talks with her and tries to tell her how she deserves all the touches she needs ❤️❤️

It's just so sweet!

Joel Miller x f!reader

No physical description, no use of y/n

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: pet names (darling, sweetheart, good girl, baby), a little hot and heavy but no smut, mentions of previous mental/emotionally abusive relationship and reader is not fully recovered, reader’s former relationship is with a man

A/n: Sorry this took so long hope it doesn’t disappoint eeee ! also referring to Joel as ‘boyfriend’ does something to me boy oh boy

—

You try replacing touching Joel with looking at him, listening to him, just trying to soak up everything you can, hoping for something to be enough to relieve the yearning ache you’ve always felt for him. When you first got to the point in your relationship where you could touch freely, it was difficult to hold back—you’d wanted it so much and fantasized about it too often beforehand. When Joel does want physical affection, you give him as much as he’ll take, and you always have the solace of how he holds you every night. Still, you have to reel yourself back in constantly. You’d rather have that than a repeat of your ex, though. Joel is different from him in many ways—he is a better man, a good man, and you know he’s not him, but you can’t shake what your ex had told you, and you don’t want Joel to start hating you for being clingy like he had. So, you keep the dog that drools for him at bay; but as it turns out, the leash isn’t as tight as you thought.

You were at the Tipsy Bison that night, chatting with Tommy and Maria on your way out. Joel leaned against a post with you at his side, already standing close, but then he casually slung his arm around your waist, pulling you to him, brushing his thumb up and down your hip. You were barely able to follow the conversation after that, and when you had to ask Tommy to repeat his question, your boyfriend decided it was time to say goodnight.

He held your hand the whole walk back, and you once again had to ask him to repeat something he’d said, distracted both by the warmth of his large hand in yours and digs of anxiety about your behavior. When the touch breaks as you enter the house, so over you does a wave of anxiety and shame. You bow your head deeply, trying to hide your burning face, and go straight up to the bedroom. Sitting on the bed, you take your time untying your shoes, trying to mentally prepare yourself for the talk you’re sure Joel is about to give you. You’ve been trying so hard, but you’re still too clingy—freakishly clingy. No one likes someone like that. That last relationship was for two years, and you thought you’d loved him—that is, until Joel came into your life—and he was the one that left. Don’t mess this one up. you scold yourself.

When Joel walks in, causally unbuttoning his flannel, you keep your eyes on your laces, but as he moves, you can tell he’s looking at you. Left in his white tee, Joel folds his flannel up in his hands, then tosses it onto the bed as he sits down next to you.

“I’m sorry,” you begin for him, “it won’t happen again. I can control myself. I’ll be better about it. I promise.” your mind is fogged with anxiety, your chest knotted tight.

“What?”

You look up at him and his brow is furrowed, but a smile plays at the end of his lip like he thinks you’re joking. You blink. “I mean, like about being clingy, I know I have a problem with it, I’m sorry.” you turn your head back down, closing your eyes and shaking your head, hating yourself.

“Clingy? When did I ever say I have a problem with you bein’ clingy?”

“Well, I just,” you try to hide frustration in your voice, targeted only inwards, “I know I am, and that I’m just too much with that stuff, and I know that's just like unattractive and I didn’t mean to humiliate you in front of Tommy and Maria like that, I’m sorry I made such a fool of myself and you,”

He interrupts, “Woah, woah, where is this comin’ from, darlin’? Who put all that shit in your head? Cause I know I never said anythin’ like that.”

Afraid of a scowl, you keep your head down as you explain yourself, feeling another pang of guilt in your chest. “Well, my ex, I was really clingy, I mean, I am really clingy, but he, you know, taught me about it.”

“Taught you what?”

“Just that, you know, it’s—bad, and embarrassing when I do it in public, and annoying.”

“Your ex told you all this?” Finally, you look at him timidly. He’s leaning forward with his hands on the bed, looking at you with his brow knit with confusion and concern.

“Well, yeah,” you reply sheepishly.

“Okay, well first of all, that’s all bullshit,” he chuckles lightly, “you’re not clingy. Clingy’s different. An’ if this is about, you know, touch, I like you touchin’ me.” He nudges you with his shoulder, making you chuckle despite your mood. “An’ this ex a yours, well he’s just one man—actually, sounds more like a boy than a man, talkin’ t’you like that—but just cause he did’n like it doe’n mean no one else does, or that it’s bad. It’s not bad, sweetheart,” Joel shakes his head lightly, “nothin’s wrong with… liking to be touched.” his eyes travel up and down you and he shifts his torso towards you, supporting one hand on the bed, and with the other, he takes your chin with his thumb and index to angle your rosy face to look at him. “You deserve all the touchin’ you want, baby. If this is what you like,” he moves his hand slowly over your cheek, and you lean into it, “this is what I’ll give you.” Instantly you’re liquid in the cup of his hand, warmth making your eyelids lazy. You let out a sigh, near overwhelmed with, just, Joel. Those big beautiful brown eyes wander over your face and he gently presses his hand into the weight of your head and you automatically lean further into the pressure and warmth. He smirks, “I like you like this.” You giggle, easily with all of you feeling lighter.

Your anxiety has washed away completely. You can be an easy forgetter, but ground easily with Joel. He’s your man, he loves you, he’s always held your body like he needs it. You can’t even fit in a thought of your ex with Joel so close to you, holding the weight of your head, and god, those dreamy eyes on your lips.

You slide your hand up his forearm and wrap it around his wrist, then turn your cheek just enough to start kissing his palm, keeping his gaze.

Joels’ eyes flash and then he takes his hand away to take your waist and sits further back on the bed to pull you on to straddle his lap. You yelp and giggle but you’re barely actually thinking, just feeling him. He kisses you tenderly and you smooth your hands up his chest and to his face, lips slow, impassioned, and heavy. You’re on autopilot, letting your body move how it wants over Joel. Joel’s hands slide around to splay on your back and he pulls you into him; it pushes a breathy moan out of you, electricity humming over every inch of your front pressed against his body, warm and sound. Your head is angled over his shoulder and he trades your lips for your neck. The pressure of his hold, feeling all of him right up against you, relieves your ache for him, you feel it dissipate and it escapes out of you in a drawl of his name. At that, he clutches you tighter, and you feel a buzz as he hums into your neck. Then he takes his lips away, making you let out a deep breath, his nose and top lip still ghosting over your skin as he says in a husky purr, “Y’know, you’re not the only one who likes this.” Eyes closed, you let out a breathy chuckle, feeling it move against his body. Joel loosens his hold so you fall back just enough to be able to look at him, his head tilted up slightly to meet your eyes, “So don’t be afraid of touchin’ me, sweetheart.”

“Okay.” You respond, almost automatically—if he ever wants to convince you of something, this would be the way to do it.

“Good girl.” He kisses you once and then enfolds you again in a tight embrace, you hum a sigh, resting your chin lazily on his shoulder, arms around his broad back, and you want to stay here forever. You skim your hands up and down his back and he sighs deeply. Then, quiet and muffled against you, he says, “God, I want you all over me, baby.”

477 notes · View notes

irb-pascalito-99 · 2 months

Text

Let Me Paint You

Pairing: Joel x f!reader

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Word Count: 3.7k

Summary: After posing for a painting Joel decides he needs to do some painting of his own.

Warnings: oral f!receiving and m!receiving, edging, unprotected p in v sex, riding, sex on a canvas

A/N: This is an excerpt from chapter thirteen of my fic Always an Angel, Never a God. To read more please visit a03.

After dinner we wash the dishes and settle in the living room to pick a movie for the night. Joel is thumbing through our collection of DvDs when a knock sounds on the front door. Both of us freeze, unsure of who could be stopping by right now.

We exchange a look as the visitor knocks again. I go to the door while Joel makes his way up the stairs. I wait until I hear a door close upstairs before I open the one in front of me.

On the front step Maria stands with her hands in her pockets. The evening sun casts an orange glow upon her as it starts to sink in the sky.

“So you are alive,” Maria jests, a smirk spreading across her face. “I’ve been texting you all day. I was trying to see if you wanted to hang out since Ellie is off on that school trip, but I got worried when I didn’t hear anything back. Why haven’t you responded?”

My chest tightens. I haven’t even looked at my phone since I got home last night, abandoning it with my purse and keys in the doorway the second I got home. I try to think of an excuse as to why I couldn’t respond while Maria peers into the house behind me.

“I’ve just been really busy with things today,” I say, fiddling with my fingers. I pull the door closer to me so she can’t see inside. “I’ve been cleaning and painting. Just enjoying the alone time, totally spaced my phone I guess.”

Maria’s eyebrows scrunch together. She tries to look behind me again and then looks back at my face as though she’s trying to decipher whether or not I’m lying.

“So there’s nobody else here?” Maria asks. I try to keep my reaction small so she can’t catch on to anything. “Because normally your car is in the garage but it’s in the driveway now, and you’re acting kind of strange…”

I see my car in the driveway behind her. We had moved it out there to make room fit the truck in the garage. I put a palm to my forehead and feign a reaction as if I’m just now remembering it’s out there.

“I must have forgot to move it back. I was cleaning the garage earlier and had to move it out there.” I can tell Maria doesn’t buy the lie.

I don’t know why I’m trying so hard. Out of anyone Maria is probably the one person I can tell about us, but there’s something I like about hiding it. It’s like in keeping this secret, I keep a piece of Joel for just myself. Keeping it a secret may have started as a way of protecting Ellie, but it feels as though I’m protecting Joel and I as well.

From my experience, love is hardly ever simple or kind. Love is heartbreak, and the outside world can only break what we have. I like our secret, and even though it’s just Maria on my doorstep I will do whatever I can to keep our small piece of the world separate.

“Well, I’m sorry you drove all the way out here but I’m kind of in the groove right now with this painting,” I say.

Maria’s eyes flick up to the stairs. She doesn’t ask any other questions though. She nods, says her goodbyes, and drives away. When her car disappears I close the door again. Joel is silent upstairs.

I go to my bedroom first, expecting him to be laying on my bed or standing by the window, but he isn’t there. I check the bathroom as well. When I find no trace of him I make my way to the art studio.

I find him standing there, observing some artwork stashed away in the closet. His fingers gently brush against the top of the canvases as he moves from one to the other. I tread lightly across the room and brush my hands softly against his back. He jumps at the touch, quickly putting the paintings back in their place.

“You’re being nosy,” I say playfully as I wrap my arms around his chest. He stiffens under my touch, clearly feeling guilty for being caught snooping through my stuff.

“Sorry, saw Maria through the window and then the closet door was open so I was just curious. Figured you’d be talkin’ for a bit.” I peek my head around his shoulder to see what he’s looking at.

The first painting in the stack is a woman in a rowboat with a faint lantern glowing in the distance. I forgot this is where I chose to store my mother’s work. I still have a hard time looking at it.

“Did you do these?” Joel asks. I shake my head.

“Those were my mom’s actually.” I bury my face in Joel’s back, trying to seem as unbothered as possible.

Joel hums in response and looks at the paintings again. I suppose this is Joel’s first interaction with who my mother truly was. He knows she died in the accident. He knows she was an artist and Frank’s friend, but I never really talk about her life.

“She was really talented,” Joel says.

“Yeah, she was,” I say. I rest my chin on his shoulder, looking for a way to change the subject.

Joel ponders a thought for a moment as I admire the way the evening sun casts a beautiful glow on his tan skin through the open window.

“Can I paint you?” I ask. I feel Joel’s body jolt as he chuckles beneath me.

“You already have,” he says with a smirk. He points to a couple of paintings hidden in the back of the closet.

Anything I paint of Joel has to either be obscure, or hidden so Ellie doesn't find it. I’ve been able to paint him from memory, but it would be nice to have a visual for once.

“No, I want you to model for me.” Joel shifts uncomfortably as I run my hands along his arms. “Please, just for a little bit. The lighting is so good right now.”

Joel huffs, but nods his head. I happily grab the chair from Ellie’s desk and place it in front of the window. He grumpily sits down and allows me to position him the way I want. I put one of his arms around the back of the chair and the other resting on his knee.

He stays still as I pick out my colors and get the canvas ready. It isn’t until after I’ve painted his form and begun to work on the details that he starts to get antsy. He moves slightly in the chair, apologizing when I shoot him a look. His eyes wander the room as I paint the highlight of the golden sun on his cheek.

“What was she like?” Joel asks, breaking the silence in the room.

“Who?” I ask, keeping my focus on my painting.

“Your mom,” he responds. I freeze with the brush against the canvas.

It’s not that my mom was a bad person, but I find it hard to talk about her now. Talking about her is a reminder of what I’ve lost, and I hate to dwell in those feelings for long which is why I’ve been avoiding the topic.

This time there’s no way out. Joel waits patiently for my response, not moving from the position I’ve sat him in. I shift in my seat and clear my throat as I try to think of a way to explain who she was.

“She was really creative,” I start. “She never found something she couldn’t make herself. She was funny, and smart, and very supportive of Ellie and I in whatever we wanted to do.”

I smile at the memories of her, picturing the way she would pick Ellie up after a fall and sweep her into her arms.

“She loved deeply,” I continue. “She was strong in whatever she did. Which also meant she felt emotions really strongly, whether that was love or sadness or anger. I saw a lot more of that when I got older. After Ellie was born, her and my dad started fighting a lot more…”

My throat begins to become thick with emotion, so I clear it and focus on the light again. I work on getting the shadows correctly on his jaw, trying to ignore the way his eyes linger on my reaction.

“What about your dad?” I drop my paintbrush on the floor as Joel speaks again. I curse under my breath as I go to pick it up.

Talking about my mom is hard enough, but I wouldn’t know where to begin with my dad. I don’t know how to understand, let alone explain the two versions of him that exist in my mind. When I was small he was kind and playful, gone a lot but always present when he was there. Later in life, after he stopped traveling for work, he was irritable and withdrawn. He wasn’t mean, but he dampened the mood in the room.

“Can we just,” I take a breath as I stand up to paint again. “I’m sorry, I’m trying to focus right now.”

Joel’s eyes soften, noting that the mention of my father must have been too far. He remains silent as he watches me work for a little longer, but something is off now. The art becomes more mechanical and methodical than before. The brush doesn’t flow as it did. Joel must notice the difference too, because he shifts in his chair.

I begin to protest when he stands up from the chair I’ve sat him in. The lighting will be gone before he settles again. He tunes me out as he grabs the biggest empty canvas he can find and lays it flat on the ground.

“What are you-“ Joel grabs my palette from my hands next, placing it on the cart next to my easel. He cuts me off by placing a gentle kiss to my lips as his hands grab the hem of my shirt.

“It’s my turn,” he says. “Let me paint you.”

He pulls my shirt over my head, sucking in a breath when he exposes my bare chest and stomach, and then continues to undress me. His fingers grasp the waistband of my leggings. He pulls them down my legs, waiting on his knees for me to step out of them.

He puts my leggings in a pile on top of my shirt before kissing up my bare legs. I throw my head back and sigh at the feeling while his fingers climb up to my hips. He pulls my underwear down as well, leaving me completely bare in the middle of the room. Something about this feels more vulnerable than when we were on the stairs or in the kitchen. I’m suddenly aware of how exposed I am.

I shiver as he kisses his way back up my body. When he’s standing again he kisses my lips and then pulls back to look me over. His eyes gleam with desire as they graze over every inch of my body.

Joel is still wearing all his clothes. My hands reach forward to grip his shirt. I need us to be even. I can’t have everything focused on me right now, but that’s what Joel has decided.

He pushes my hands away and picks up a paintbrush. I watch him anxiously as he dips the brush in the bright yellow paint on my palette before turning back to me. I pinch my eyebrows together as he walks behind me.

My body jolts at the feeling of the cold liquid trailing down my skin. I can’t see what he’s doing, but I can feel the tickling sensation of a paint brush against my skin. He spends a while doing it, coating my entire back in an assortment of colors. When he’s done he walks me back to the canvas he placed on the floor.

“On your knees darlin’” he says, the paintbrush in his hands. I follow his instructions embarrassingly quickly.

Once I’m on my knees he delicately directs me backwards so I’m laying on top of the canvas on the floor, then he stands again. I begin to pant as I watch him load the palette up with colors again. He glances back in my direction quickly and then takes his shirt off. A tension builds in my pelvis as he takes off all of his clothes except for his boxers.

He brings the palette and brush back over to where I lay on the floor, putting them on the ground before kneeling in front of me. His eyes wander slowly over my body again. He mutters something I can’t quite hear under his breath while he picks up the paint brush again.

Gently he strokes the brush down the middle of my chest. I squirm at the feeling, the paint on my back smearing along the canvas as I do. A devious look appears in his eyes as he continues to run the brush along my chest and stomach until it runs out of paint. He loads the brush up with red next then starts with my left breast.

The bristles brush along the top of my breast until he reaches my nipple. I let out a whine as he swirls the brush along the sensitive nub. When he’s satisfied he chooses another color for the other breast, bright purple illuminating my skin as my chest begins to heave. I can feel the slick collecting between my thighs. I desperately need his hands on me which only makes him go slower.

When I’m completely covered in paint Joel puts the brush back down on the palette and sits on his knees to admire his work. I squirm again and desperately attempt to squeeze my legs together to ease the tension. My desperation only seems to darken the lust in his eyes. I try to sit up and reach for him, but he grabs my wrists and pins them above my head.

“Joel, please,” I whimper. His face hovers above mine, a cruel smirk spreading across it.

“Stay there babygirl,” he whispers and releases my hands.

I watch with heavy breaths as he moves back on the floor. His hands push my knees apart to expose my core to him. He groans at the sight of my glistening center.

“So fuckin’ wet baby,” he growls. He swipes his thumb across my folds causing me to jump. “You keep your hands up there sweetheart, don’t move ‘em or I’ll stop.”

I nod my head quickly, my hips gliding back and forth on the canvas as I wait for him to touch me again. He licks his lips before laying on the ground. His hands grip my thighs as he pulls himself up to my center. I feel his breath against me first, a rush of warm air causing the tension in my stomach to jump.

He presses a delicate kiss to my clit, teasing the sensitive bud, and then licks a stripe up my center. I moan and squirm again. His lips smile against my core as he pulls himself closer and thrusts his tongue inside me.

A loud guttural moan escapes my lips as he begins to feast between my thighs. I desperately grasp the edge of the canvas to keep my hands from grabbing him as he curls his tongue inside me. I could almost come from that alone, all the tension from his teasing building into a pit of pleasure in my core. I can’t control the way my body thrashes against the canvas as he moves his tongue to flick against my clit.

“God, Joel,” I moan. He picks up his speed, eating me as though it’s his last meal on earth. I’m already so close to the edge when he moves one hand from my thigh to press two fingers inside me.

I scream as he thrusts them in and out, my grip on the canvas tightening. I squeeze my eyes shut as the pressure builds. He crooks his fingers so they press against the sensitive part inside me. The rush of sensitivity as he does so is what causes me to break my resolve. Without thinking, my hands release the canvas and bury themselves in his hair.

Joel immediately pulls away, tutting his tongue as he crawls back to his knees. I whine again and attempt to pull him back to me as I squirm.

“Please, I’m sorry. Please, don’t stop,” I beg. Tears escape my eyes while I squeeze my thighs again, so desperate for the release that just barely escaped me.

“Oh princess, you make this so hard.” Joel says. He reaches a thumb to my cheek to wipe the tears away. “One more chance sweet girl, roll over.”

I look at him questioningly, but I’m too far gone to argue. I roll onto my hands and knees, the paint causing me to slide a bit on the canvas. He leans back and watches as I get myself ready for whatever he has planned next. I hear him shuffle behind me, but I can no longer see what he is doing.

When I’ve stopped moving his hand moves up my leg, gripping my ass for a moment before pulling away. I gasp when I feel his hands return with a sharp smack to my ass. Then he pulls my cheeks apart and moves forward.

He must have taken off his boxers when I turned around because I can feel his bare length push against my dripping folds. I bite my lip as he slides it against my center.

“You want this baby?” I nod, biting my lip so hard I can taste the blood filling my mouth. He moans as he presses himself forward, filling me once again.

I stay completely still while he pushes into me, focusing on the burning stretch until I feel his hips flush with my ass. I keep my hands rooted on the canvas as he pulls back again, but when he thrusts in harder than before I slide and collapse on my stomach. Joel goes down with me.

His chest is pressed against my back, his hands keeping mine pressed against the slippery canvas as he pulls back and thrusts into me again. We moan in unison as he continues his thrusts. My body sides across the canvas with each one and his slides against mine.

The whole thing is messy and slippery, a combination of sweat and paint with loud moans echoing down the halls. He kisses my neck, leaving marks on the skin, as my climax begins to build again. My walls clench around him, signaling how close I am. He thrusts harder, his fingers intertwined with mine as he slides my body up and down.

I’m staring out at the pink and purple sky through the window when orgasm crashes over me. My walls flutter around Joel as I scream. His low moans rumbling through his chest while he continues to thrust into me. When I come down he pulls out and directs me to get up.

He lays down on his back, moving me to climb on top of him. I position my knees on either side of his hips and watch his face twist in pleasure as I sink down on his length. The both of us are covered in paint now, a smattering of colors bleeding together on his chest as he grips my hips.

I throw my head back as I bounce in his lap. He feels so good at this angle. I can feel every vein and ridge of his cock as I slowly rise and lower my body onto him. It’s my turn to tease now.

I try to keep my pace slow, to torture him just a little bit, but it becomes difficult when I feel the pleasure bubbling up inside me again. I can see in his eyes he can tell I’m close again.

His hands move up to squeeze my breasts as I ride him. I feel his fingers pinching my paint covered nipples and moan. I’m not going to last long. He starts to thrust up as well, meeting me halfway as my hips start to lose momentum. My hands press against the canvas as I attempt to keep my pace with my climax looming over me.

“It’s okay sweet girl, come here,” he says. I lower my chest into his and let him take over. He thrusts hard into me a couple of times before I shudder again. “That’s right, let go. Come on.”

I clench around him one more time before letting go completely. He swallows my moans, kissing me deeply while he continues his thrusts until he can’t any longer.

“God, I’m gonna-“ he thrusts again and then stills. “Get up, you gotta-“

Joel pulls me off of him quickly. I climb down his body to take his pulsing member in my mouth. I swirl my tongue around the head, and that’s all he needs to release his load into my mouth with a deep moan. His hips twitch as he lets go, spilling into my mouth. When he finishes I sit up and swallow his load.

“Fuck,” he groans. I smile back at him. He carefully stands up, doing his best not to slip on the canvas.

We both stand back and look at what we created. It’s a mess of color, still wet with no clear reasoning behind any of it. There are places where the colors blend so much that they’ve become a muddled brown or gray. In other areas bright shades of color shine through virtually untouched.

“Damn, I really thought I did something there,” Joel says with his hands on his hips. “Kinda just looks like a mess though.”

I lean forward and kiss a patch of skin on his shoulder untouched by the paint.

“I don’t know, I kinda like it.” I say. He wraps his arms around me and pulls me close.

“Well, you’re the artist,” he says before pressing a kiss to my hair.

We abandon the idea of a movie completely, choosing instead to bathe together so we can wash the paint off our skin. Joel’s hands are gentle as they wash my body, the colorful water pooling at our feet. He let the water run cold against his back as he pushed his fingers inside me again, slowly working me up until my body spasms again.

The rest of the night we stayed in bed, talking and fucking until we fell asleep.

Read more on a03: Always an Angel, Never a God

#pedro pascal #smut #fanfic #joel miller smut #joel smut #joel tlou #joel miller #tlou hbo #tlou fanfiction #tlou smut #a03 writer #a03 fanfic

83 notes · View notes

justagalwhowrites · 11 months

Text

Lavender - Ch. 16

You and Joel travel across a ruined city - and through plenty of obstacles - to find what you're searching for. A continuation of Lavender ch. 1-15 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

Warnings: Canon typical violence, SMUT :D (unprotected p in v sex - wrap it up kids). No use of Y/N, minors DNI.

Length: 6.7k

Being outside the QZ made you almost giddy. It reminded you a little of getting high with Cass once, your junior year of college, when a guy she was dating - whose name you’d forgotten - brought a bong to her apartment one Friday night.

It was the first time you’d ever been high. It didn’t take much, pulling the smoke into your lungs and holding it there until you had to cough and choke it out only a few times before it started to kick in. The light feeling in your body, the airiness of your thoughts, the vast openness of the world around you. Being outside the walls of the QZ as the sun rose was like that, the sense of freedom so potent you thought you might choke on it.

You scrambled up a small pile of rubble, smiling a little as you did, liking the way your feet found purchase on the shaky ground.

“The hell you doing?” Joel asked, looking back at you incredulously.

“I’m sorry, do you not have the urge to climb piles of rock?” You asked.

“No,” he said. “Get down from there.”

“Do you know the last time that I saw a pile of rock?” You were still on top of the pile. “At least one that wasn’t behind some stupid FEDRA fence?”

“It’s not rock,” Joel snapped. “It’s fuckin’ rubble. You climb every pile of it from here to Cambridge and we’ll be out here for weeks. This isn’t a goddamn vacation, we’re not out here for fun.”

“Really?” You put your hands on your hips. “You’re saying you don’t have fun outside the QZ?”

“Get the fuck down.”

You obeyed but narrowed your eyes at him.

“I think you do have fun outside the QZ,” you said, following as he went down whatever partially ruined street you were on.

“Don’t know why,” he muttered.

“Because you spent five years avoiding the QZ,” you replied. “And once you were in one you lasted all of, what, nine months before you started leaving again? You must like something about it.”

“I like being able to make money in the QZ off the shit I bring back from outside the QZ,” he snapped. “Not all of us can be fuckin’ doctors and get by on the shit FEDRA pays ‘em.”

“Not all of us have anger issues and do things besides just punch people when we get upset so we can hold down a job,” you snapped back.

“I don’t have to fuckin’ take you, Kid,” he glared at you. “We can turn the fuck around right now.”

“And tell Tess you welched on her deal?” You rolled your eyes. “Doubt it.”

Joel rounded on you, towering over you, making you flinch on instinct.

“Will you stop fuckin’ doing that?” He snapped, looking you up and down.

“Doing what?” You frowned.

“Acting like I’m going to hit you,” he said. “Like you’re a fuckin’ puppy who got kicked one too many times.”

“Well you stop acting like an asshole and maybe I’ll stop acting like you’re someone who would kick a puppy,” you replied.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, already exhausted with you. Which shouldn’t be a surprise, you’re the one who dragged him out here. He sighed.

“We need some fucking ground rules,” he growled. “I don’t want to get killed hauling your ass around this damn wasteland because you’re busy climbing rubble.”

“Fine,” you agreed after a moment. “What are the rules?”

“One, you do what I say when I say it,” he said. You opened your mouth to argue, but he cut you off. “It’s life or death shit out here, Kid. I tell you to run, you fucking run. I tell you to hide, you fucking hide. I tell you to be silent, you shut the fuck up. Not listenin’ to me will get one of us killed and I’d like to make it back alive.”

“Fine,” you said again, knowing there was a damn good chance he’d abuse that rule.

“Rule two,” he said. “I’m here to guide you so you have to keep up. Don’t get sidetracked, don’t get distracted, don’t go wanderin’ off. Stick close to me and I’ll get you there. Decide to take a detour and you’re on your own.”

You considered a moment.

“No running ahead so you can ditch me,” you said. He looked at you for a moment, like he wondered why you’d even say that.

“Fine,” he said. “Rule three. Don’t make unnecessary conversation. I already know more than enough about you and I don’t want to be out here with you any more than you want to be out here with me. Just keep your mouth shut and we’ll get through this a lot faster.”

That one stung. You and Joel had, once upon a time, been able to talk for hours. About anything. You did what felt like nothing but talk in the years you were together but a country apart. You’d loved the sound of his voice, his laugh, his insights on the world. Maybe that had always been one sided.

“You know, you’re far from the first person who’s been stuck with me who doesn’t want me,” you stuck your chin out. “No one’s ever wanted me, from day one. I’m used to it. You can try and hurt me with it all you want, it won’t bother me.”

He looked you up and down one more time, scowling.

“Keep up.”

Joel set an aggressive but fair pace. You hung back, both wanting the distance but also wanting to actually see something besides the QZ for a change.

You never made it to Boston before the outbreak. If you were going to a city, you just went to NYC. It’s not like you knew what it was like before the bombs and the infected ravaged it. But you knew it looked a lot different now.

Looting had obviously been bad at one point, most of the storefront windows were smashed and displays were stripped bare. But some places looked… if not the same, something closer to what you remembered the world to be.

You passed a marquee for a movie theater with Pirates of the Caribbean listed toward the bottom. You smiled a little at it. You and Joel had taken Sarah to see that when you’d come to visit the July before the outbreak. You had sat in the middle, a bucket of popcorn the size of your ribcage on your lap, Sarah reaching over for handfuls of it every few minutes. She buried her face in your shoulder when the pirates first turned into skeletons and then insisted it hadn’t scared her. Joel’s fingers had traced along the outside edge of your hip, the inside of your wrist, trailed up your arm, brushed against the curve of your breast before going after the popcorn himself. You’d glanced over at him and his eyes were solidly on the screen, a small, cocky smirk playing on his lips. The second you were sure Sarah was asleep, he’d about ripped your clothes off, like there was nothing he wanted more than to be inside you.

Now, he didn’t want to hear or see you.

“Shit,” Joel muttered around noon.

“What?” You asked, the first thing you’d said since the morning.

“See that building down there, laying across the road?” He pointed a few blocks ahead. You nodded. “Wasn’t like that last time we came this way. Have to find another way around…”

You looked around for a moment as he shrugged off his backpack. You spotted a Barnes and Noble a few doors down.

“Mind if we figure it out in there?” You asked, pointing it out. “I can get some more books for my classroom…”

He looked at it for a moment, considering, then sighed.

“Got a gun?” He asked, looking at you like he expected you to say no. But you quickly reached back and into a side zipper pouch of your backpack, pulling out the handgun you’d picked up off the soldier during the outbreak. Joel looked surprised but nodded once. You tucked it into the waistband of your pants. “Fine. Don’t go fuckin’ wandering, haven’t cleared that building, don’t know what the fuck could be in there.”

The store was in disarray, shelves collapsed and books in heaps on the ground. You frowned.

“Was this bombs or people?” You asked, picking your way around the piles.

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Joel shrugged, slinging his backpack off and kneeling beside it, pulling out a map that had been thoroughly marked up. He glanced up at you. “Remember what I said, don’t go far.”

You just nodded, looking up at the ceilings for signage that had long been covered in dust or knocked loose from its housing. But it was enough for you to find the young adult section, thankfully not too far from the front of the store.

You tried to remember what all you had on your shelves at the school, wanting to avoid grabbing duplicates if possible. You glanced back up at the front of the store, Joel still looking over the map. You tried to make decisions about what to grab quickly.

One of you kids always had questions about history - that, for some reason, they brought to you and not the history teacher - so you found some historical fiction for him. Grabbed a few fantasy books for another kid who had raced through Harry Potter in just over a week. She said she was going to write out how she thought the series should end and give it to you to read, not able to handle the lack of resolution any better than you had been. You grabbed some mystery books with less blood and gore than your students had probably seen in real life. You glanced back up front one more time. Joel was still busy with the map. You bit your lip.

You’d always wanted to get a set of Lord of the Rings, both for you and for your classroom, but it either never made it to the QZ or got snapped up so quick that you’d never seen them with any of the underground sellers. Fantasy looked to be toward the back of the store, but if you were quick…

You darted toward the fantasy section, sifting through the piles around where you thought the Ts would be. Eventually you found a few copies - in single volume, no less - and added them to your bag. You were just getting ready to head back toward the front of the store when you heard an odd clicking noise.

You frowned, looking around. The air was still, it’s not like there was wind blowing through the building to make a loose sign tap against shelving. There wasn’t any electricity here, so it couldn’t be something mechanical. It didn’t sound like a sound an animal would make…

Joel’s hand clamped over your mouth and your eyes went wide. He hadn’t been anywhere near you… He pressed a finger to his lips and looked around quickly before pressing you back into an alcove.

He covered your body with his, your back flush against the wall, your front pressed against him. His hand was still on your mouth. His free hand held a gun, aimed at the ground, and he was looking out into the store. The clicking sound started again. Your breath picked up and he shot you a glare before looking back out into the shelves.

You froze, trying not to melt down or panic. You focused on what you knew, on anything besides the clicking sound that was getting louder, more frequent. Your back was against a wall. It was oddly damp, you could feel it on the part down the middle of the back of your head between your braids. Joel’s hand was warm and callused. One of his legs was between yours, his crotch against your hip… he was hard against you. You swallowed.

The clicking sound got closer.

Joel slowly lifted his gun. You watched the snarl on his face as he took aim and fired. There was an inhuman screech after the first shot, again after the second. After the third, the shrieking and clicking were gone and you were panting for breath against his skin. He freed your mouth and you gasped for air.

“What was that?” Your hand went to your chest, trying to calm yourself down.

“They not teach you FEDRA doctors about the stages of infected?” He asked, smug. You glared at him.

“Only stage I have to deal with is the infected but not turned stage,” you said. “That’s the stage where I have to go kill innocent people. So no. Haven’t gotten that memo.”

His eyes looked sad for a moment, almost like he pitied you. Then they were hard again. His cock was still against your hip. He must not have noticed.

“We call ‘em clickers,” he said. “Come on, you can take a look at it as we get out of here. Where there’s one, there’ll be more not far behind.”

He stepped out of the alcove and you followed closely. He paused at the body of what had, at one point, been a woman. She was wearing capri pants and the remains of t-shirt. But her face was all but gone, completely overtaken by lobes of fungus splitting out from her skull and spreading over her skin.

“Jesus Christ,” you breathed.

“They lose their eyesight at this point,” Joel said. “That’s why they click. Like fuckin’ bats, use it to find people. Good news is, that means they’re blind. Bad news is, you have to be dead fuckin’ silent or they’ll hear you. If you’re in the middle of a room with no shelter and don’t hold still, they’ll find you and attack you. Awful fuckers.”

You looked at it for another moment, the patterns in the fungal growth. There was an odd beauty to it, or there would be if it wasn’t all that was left of a human being.

“Let’s move.”

You followed behind Joel again, out of the store and into the street. He kept his gun out, backtracking several streets before moving forward again.

“Best way through is going to be to cut through some of these buildings,” he said. “Stick close behind me, keep your gun out and be fucking quiet.”

You just nodded, stay close at Joel’s back. You could feel your heart pounding against your ribs, your ears oddly tuned into every distant sound. Every building creak made you jump, every rustle of a bird made you turn your head and listen closer. Everything sounded like an inhuman click at first, just for a second, just long enough to set you on edge.

The buildings seemed like a maze, many of the corridors and back storage rooms of shops ripped apart to the point that they were all but impassable. Joel helped you up and over some wreckage, shards of glass glaring up at you from the floor, glinting off the glow of Joel’s flashlight.

“Don’t want to cut yourself out here,” he warned. “Infection…” You gave him a look. “Right. You know that.”

You got to the Harvard Medical Library that afternoon, after picking your way through the ruins of the city.

“I’ll stick close to you in here,” Joel said, looking around. “Harvard was a bad spot for the outbreak, even off campus spots like this…”

“Makes sense,” you nodded. “Everyone eating the same food at about the same time? Everyone probably turned about all at once.”

“We’ve avoid this area so far,” he said. “Don’t make me regret takin’ you here. Find what you need and let’s go.”

You went to the sheet of paper you’d folded up in your bag listing the specific studies you were after. You started down the aisles, gathering what you needed quickly. They had almost everything you knew you were looking for, only some of it water damaged.

Then, you started looking at the general items. Things about wholistic medicines, anything that you might be able to use to treat patients that wasn’t reliant on FEDRA medication shipments. Yeah, you’d have to find seeds to grow things yourself or other materials, but it was a starting point. Next was research on bacterial infections. They’d become more and more prevalent in the QZ. You were worried about prescribing antibiotics so much in such a concentrated population. Conditions were ripe for making a superbug. You wanted to know how to avoid that while reining in the damage.

Finally, anything you could find on fungal infections in mammals and treating infections in the brain. This was trickier. Until the outbreak, there weren’t cordyceps that could survive in mammals, they hadn’t exactly been studied. But treatments for other fungal infections could be helpful in at least figuring out a way to navigate treating this one. Studies on the brain were going to be challenge, too. A lot of what you did now you’d started studying before the outbreak. You’d wanted to be a pediatrician before, so you needed a broad basis of knowledge - you could function as a general surgeon or general practitioner with very few adjustments. You hadn’t been in medical school yet but you were so fascinated by it all, you’d been devouring texts and journal articles like crazy. You’d never done much with the brain. And it’s not like the QZ had the facilities for neurosurgery. If someone came in with a brain tumor, there was little you could do besides smile sadly and offer them pain killers to keep them comfortable.

You paused, looking back down the aisles. You wished you had a way to just pick up and move everything…

“Almost done?” Joel asked.

“Think so,” you said. “Just let me… cancer…”

“Cancer?” He frowned.

“Sorry, thinking out loud,” you said. “I’d like to find some things on alternative treatments for cancer. Not like we’ve got chemo in the QZ…”

You went down the aisles again and found a few more things that looked to be useful.

“OK,” you said, backpack now significantly heavier than when you’d left the QZ 10 hours earlier. “Let’s go…”

The words were barely out of your mouth when you heard it, the awful clicking sound. They were here.

***

Joel’s hand clamped over your lips as he looked around for a good place to sit tight. There was a librarian desk, only about 50 feet away but - not knowing exactly where the fucking clickers were - it may as well have been a mile. He got your attention and pointed to the desk. He freed your mouth, pressing the finger from his free hand to his lips. You nodded, your eyes wide. He took your hand and pulled you along behind him, hunched over to stay as much behind the shelving as he could. The clickers were getting closer.

He tucked you behind the desk first, your back pressed against a filing cabinet, and he covered your body with his own, his gun ready. Hopefully, they’d just go past and you’d be able to make a run for it when the clickers had moved on.

Joel could feel you breathing behind him, the tension in your body. At least he wasn’t pressed against your front again like he had been at the fucking bookstore. Feeling the shape of you tight to him - even if it was because of the clickers - only made him think of fucking you. How you looked naked, how your body responded to his touch, how your skin felt below and around his own. What you tasted like, what you felt like when you came, how goddamn satisfying it was when you moaned his name like it was a prayer. It’s all he could think about on the whole fucking walk to the library. It was still at the back of his mind now as he tried to watch for things that were hellbent on killing him and you both. You were a dangerous distraction.

The desk, as it turned out, was a good hiding place. When the clickers drew near, you held your breath, totally silent as they prowled past. Only a few minutes after the threat had arrived, it was gone.

Once Joel was more certain that it was safe, he got slowly to his feet and reached down to help you up. Your eyes were still wide, your hands shook. He held his finger to his lips again and you gave him a shaky nod. He held your hand as he led you out of the library. He could feel your pounding heart through his fingers.

Outside, storm clouds were rolling in. Joel frowned.

“We’ll need to find a place to stash ourselves sooner rather than later,” he said, nodding in their direction.

“Remember reliable weather reports?” You asked, eyebrows raised. Your eyes were still wide and afraid but you smiled a little. “Or, well, mostly reliable?”

“I remember checkin’ that map at the back of the paper every morning,” he said. He frowned. “Haven’t thought about that in…”

“It’s weird what you forget,” you nodded before you caught yourself. “Right, sorry. I’ll shut up.”

He wanted to tell you not to. The no talking rule… he hadn’t liked that one. He fucking loved listening to you. Hearing how you saw the world, how you puzzled things out, the observations you made about things that he never seemed to notice. But that was dangerous. He didn’t WANT to love you anymore. He was fucking done with that part of his life if he could just get his heart to catch up with his head. But he kept getting drawn into you, kept wanting to hear you talk, kept wanting to touch you, kept wanting to watch you as you did the most mundane shit. He kept wanting to find your fucking hair in his goddamn shower.

He’d let go of your hand, stalking off toward where he’d seen what looked like some residential areas not too far from there when it happened.

“Joel!” You yelped before firing your gun.

He spun to see a cluster of five runners racing for you. The second he turned he could hear them, the fucking things coming at him from his deaf side. Your shot went wide, all of them still standing.

“Run!” He ordered, grabbing you and tossing you behind him. He stood his ground, taking aim as the infected raced toward him. He had to damn near empty his clip, the final infected dropping only a few feet in front of him, but he’d killed them all. It wasn’t until he started to turn again - his fucking deaf ear failing him yet again - when he heard you struggling.

You hadn’t made it far, only about 75 feet. Your gun was on the ground out of your reach and you were scrambling, trying to hold off the infected that was scratching and groping at you, straining to get its teeth into you.

For the tiniest fraction of a second, Joel’s life flashed before his eyes. The most important shit. Sarah’s birth, her first words and steps, her first days of school, first time riding a bike, meeting you at the coffee shop, kissing you in the pool, taking Sarah hiking with you in New York, Sarah falling asleep on him on the couch the night she died, holding you again for the first time in the QZ. If you were bitten, if he had to shoot you, he’d have to shoot himself, too. It was a foregone conclusion. He couldn’t survive knowing that he’d failed you, that he’d never see you or hear you or touch you. Not again.

He’d moved before he realized he was moving, tackling the infected and knocking it off your body. It snarled and gnashed its teeth and he yanked his knife free from the sheath on his belt, stabbing it in the neck as he held it down. The second he knew it was dead, he ripped the blade free and went for you.

You were still on the ground, partially on your side thanks to the size of your now overloaded backpack. You were shaking, silent tears running down your face.

“Hey,” he gently cupped your cheek. “Hey, you’re OK, you’re alright…”

You swallowed and nodded but didn’t move, still shaking.

“Just going to check you over right quick,” he said, trying to keep his voice from trembling. He wasn’t a praying man, but he was begging whatever god there was to spare you. He’d trade places, he didn’t care, just don’t take you.

He checked your throat first. The infected had scratched you but no sign of teeth marks. He helped you sit up and he checked what little of your arms he could get to around your coat and gloves. His body almost went totally slack in relief. He took your face in his hands and gently turned your gaze to him.

“You’re OK,” he said, voice certain this time. “It didn’t get you, Baby, you’re OK.”

You just nodded, still shaking. Rain started to fall, the cold turning some of the drops into sharp shards of ice that pecked against his face and neck.

“C’mon,” he said, helping you up. “We gotta get out of this weather.”

He pulled you against his side and walked - only about 20 minutes - until he found something that looked suitable. Row houses that didn’t look terribly fucked by looting or bombing. Windows were intact in many of them and every one had a chimney. A good sign.

“Good news is,” he said. “With the rain, we can have a fire. Usually, can’t risk it with raiders. But the clouds and the rain will cover the smoke…”

You just nodded, your hand clutching your coat close in a fist at your throat. He wished you would talk, just so he could hear your voice, know that you were actually OK.

He picked one of the middle units - fewer external walls to defend against - and forced the door open.

Inside was largely untouched. Some furniture overturned - though he wasn’t sure if it was from looters or bombs shaking the earth - and a thick layer of dust but otherwise intact.

He led you to an interior room upstairs, it looked like the master bedroom. There was a fireplace and an attached bathroom, only one big window with blackout curtains and one door in and out. Easily defensible.

You were shaking but whether it was from fear or from cold, Joel wasn’t sure.

“Stay put here,” he said. “I’m going to go grab some shit to burn.”

You just nodded, still not talking. He frowned but went through the house, breaking legs off chairs, grabbing papers from the office, taking picture frames it would be easy to break apart. He piled it all in front of the fireplace and you were still standing there, shivering.

“Gonna need you to talk to me at some point,” he said, starting to worry that he’d missed something when looking you over. “Need to know you’re OK.”

“I’m OK,” you shivered, frowning. “Just trying to follow your rules.”

He ground his teeth.

“We’ll ditch that rule now that we’re in for the night,” he said. “Just talk. If you want.” He looked you up and down again. “And get out of the wet clothes before you get sick, it’s barely above freezing in ‘here.”

You nodded, unzipping the coat. Satisfied, Joel got down and checked the flue of the fireplace. He opened it, an old bird’s nest falling into the grate, but otherwise it was clear. He broke down the furniture and picture frames. It looked like he’d have enough to get through the night and then some. That was the important thing. He built a fire, igniting a wad of paper with the lighter from his pack and placing it carefully in the pile of wood and other shit he’d collected from the house. He watched for a second, making sure it was catching, before he got up. You’d stripped out of the coat but you were still in the rest of your clothes and they looked pretty soaked, too. He ground his teeth.

“Help me get this dresser in front of the door,” he said. You just nodded, still not talking, just shivering, and the two of you moved the furniture. Joel closed the blackout curtains next, doing what he could to make sure there was as little room as possible for the light from the fire to escape around the edges before turning back to you.

“You’re still in wet clothes.”

“Yeah, well,” you shrugged, arms tight around your torso. He stared you down and you sighed. “Look, I’m trying to make this easy on you, OK? You weren’t supposed to be my protection out here, you were supposed to just be my guide and you’ve saved my life, what, three times now? You don’t want me to talk so I’ve been quiet. You don’t want to ever see me again so I’m trying to leave my clothes on while you’re forced to be around me so while you’ll have to see me, at least I’m not naked. I’m trying.”

He stalked off to the bathroom for a moment, opening the door in there and finding a large closet. It was still filled with clothes. He grabbed an oversized sweater and went back to the bedroom, throwing it on the bed.

“Put that on,” he ordered. “Get out of the wet shit. I’ll wait in there.”

He went to the bathroom and tried to not think about your bared skin just feet away on the other side of the door. Joel found some sweats that looked like they’d fit him and got changed, too.

“Done,” you said, voice quiet but less shaky, a few minutes later. You saw him and laughed before clamping a hand over your mouth.

“What.”

“Nothing,” you said. He just glared at you. “It’s just… you’re in a Harvard sweatshirt and it’s funny. Not something I ever pictured you wearing.”

He shrugged.

“Doesn’t really mean shit now, does it?” He said. You laughed once.

“Guess not.”

Joel had thought the sweater would be a good, safe bet for you. Something that would keep you warm and hide your shape. Instead, it had made you into another fucking temptation. Your legs were bare, the collar of the sweater so big it slipped over one of your shoulders, revealing the column of your throat and the hollows of your collar bones. He was pretty sure he’d kissed every inch of you in the years he’d known you. He knew just what it would be to press his lips to your neck, trace the edges of you with his tongue.

He wanted to not want you. He wanted to disentangle himself from you. You’d hidden shit from him, made it so he didn’t have a fucking choice, made it so he lost his daughter and a child he didn’t know he had. You had backed him into a corner, forced him to fail.

He wanted to hate you for it.

You lay your clothes out near the fire, draping them over things to help try them and you sat down in front of the flames, your arms outstretched, warming your fingers.

He sat next to you. You glanced at him, gave him a half smile before turning back to the fire.

“Remember when you were trying to get me to consider Harvard for med school?” You asked, glancing his way after a few minutes of nothing but the crackle of wood.

“Yeah,” he said. That felt like a lifetime ago. He was a different person then.

“You’ve finally reached peak mascot,” you teased, glancing at the sweatshirt before looking forward again.

“Still say you’d have gotten in,” he said.

“Well I didn’t have my MCATs yet but,” you shrugged. “But I got a 523 out of 528 on my practice test. I probably would have.”

You laughed a little.

“How dumb is that that I remember my MCAT practice test score?”

“Not dumb,” he said. “You’re just smart. That shit mattered to you, ‘course you remember.”

You nodded slowly.

“There’s some stuff I wish I remembered better,” you said quietly. “I remember that now meaningless number but I don’t remember the last thing Nan ever said to me. I remember what she talked about but I don’t remember the words. I was so busy thinking of other things… She wasn’t feeling well so I was thinking about whether or not I should call her Oncologist on Monday or if I should wait a few days, see if she got better. I was thinking about seeing you again. Scared out of my mind about it…

“I can’t remember exactly how my bedroom looked anymore,” you continued. “I have a vague picture of it in my mind but I can’t remember what wall had the painting, where the pressed flowers were. There was a pattern on the edge of the doorknobs on all the doors on the second floor of the house and I can’t quite picture it anymore. I used to run my fingers over that pattern when I was a kid, when the doorknobs were about eye level. I don’t know them anymore. I didn’t think there would be a time where I didn’t know them.”

You drew your knees tightly to your chest and rested your head against them.

“I’d trade that stupid test score to remember any of those things,” you said. “Hell, I’d trade my medical knowledge to remember those things.”

He was close to you now. So close his sweatpants were touching your hip. He looked at you, your eyes reflecting the firelight. He couldn’t remember why he didn’t want to want you anymore.

“Joel,” you breathed softly.

He kissed you without thinking.

***

He still tasted like Joel - always a hint of coffee on his tongue. His hand found your cheek, holding you gently, pulling you closer. Your heart was pounding, your head more floating than swimming.

You hesitantly, cautiously reached a hand out for him, resting at his waist. He didn’t flinch away from you. Instead, he moved closer. You stretched your legs out and turned your body so you could be alongside him, touch as much of him as you could for as long as he would let you.

Deep inside you, below the longing and the aching need, was fear. You’d wished you’d known the last time you were with Joel was going to be the last time. You’d have done things differently if you had - or at least tried to focus and memorize him. You were getting that shot now, with the benefit of knowing he’d likely never want to touch you after tonight.

But the fear was there, too. Your heart thrummed with it, the knowing that he’d pull away again, the you’d need to start over on losing him again. It would hurt. But you’d take the hurt for the chance to love him again, just for a bit.

His hand slipped down your face, down your arm, down your side to your hip. He pulled your body flush against his. You felt his hardness through the sweatpants and, before you could do anything to stop it, you instinctively worked your hips against his own. He moaned against your lips, dipping his tongue into your mouth. He hiked your leg over his hip and pulled you tightly to him so your core was pressed against the root of him. He ground against you, making you moan as his hand slipped below the sweater and up your back.

He pulled his lips just far enough from you to say one word.

“Bed.”

You just nodded, breathless, and he got up before pulling you to your feet. His lips found yours again immediately, his hands going to the hem of the sweater and pulling it up and over your head. You followed suit with the sweatshirt, separating from your kiss only long enough to remove the clothes and cast them aside.

Joel kissed down your jaw to your throat, looking down your body and seeing that you still had panties on. He dropped to his knees and slid those down your body, too, leaving you bare and blushing before him. He looked up at you before be pressed a kiss to your stomach, working his way up your body until he was at your mouth again. You tugged his sweatpants and underwear down and off, leaving them where they landed as Joel stepped out of them.

He left his lips against yours as he pushed you back toward the bed. You fell onto it, scooting back so you were in the middle of it and he crawled on top of you, one of his hands finding your slick seam.

His fingers teased you open gently, pulling a quiet moan from your throat and spilling it onto his tongue. He sank one digit into you slowly, softly, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your clit. Your fingers found his cock - so thick and hard, you’d almost forgotten how big he was in the months since you’d last had him. You felt your body clench at the thought of him inside you, filling you.

He eased another finger inside you, spreading them, hooking them into the spot in you that made you quiver.

“Already feel so good Baby,” he breathed against your lips. “Fuck, you always feel so fucking good…”

He kept working you deeper, harder, faster, groaning as your hips rocked against his hand. For a moment, it was like you forgot everything but what he felt like inside you - you even forgot how to kiss him - and you came around him, your whole body throbbing with it, a gasping moan slipping from your lips.

“Good, Baby,” he said, collecting your wetness on his fingers. “So fucking good for me.”

“Joel,” you whimpered, working his shaft. “What do you want?”

“Just you,” he said, lowering himself on top of you, kissing you softly. “Need inside you…”

He took your wetness and made himself slick with it, rubbing his cock a few times before lining it up with your entrance.

Even just his head made you gasp for breath, your back arching into his touch.

“Fuck, so tight,” he groaned. “Missed you so fucking much…”

He kissed you as he sank into your body, easing in until he was completely sheathed within you. You worked your hips back against him, the two of you finding a slow, aching, needy rhythm together.

You didn’t remember ever feeling quite this full, his cock stretching you, touching every part of your insides. You never wanted him to leave, never wanted him to stop. All you wanted was for him to lose himself in you the same way you were lost in him.

He adjusted your hips, made it so he was working your clit with every deep, commanding stroke. Your body tightened with pleasure, gripping him, pulling him closer and deeper until he made you come apart around him, your whole being going slack in his arms.

He fucked you through your orgasm, giving you no respite and you loved it, the desperation of it making you tighten around him again almost instantly.

“Want to cum with you,” he said, voice desperate. “What do you…”

“Just you,” you clung to him, working your hips against him harder and faster, your third orgasm growing. “Just don’t leave, just keep…”

He kept up his pace, the feeling of him everywhere so overwhelming that it sent you over the edge again, your walls fluttering around him as he came deep inside you with a groan. He collapsed beside you and you prepared to have him reinstate the distance. He didn’t. Instead, he pulled you tightly against him, holding you close, like you still mattered to him.

You were half asleep when you thought you heard him say “I love you.”

A/N: GUYS IT'S NOT A HAPPY ENDING FOR THEM YET OK, IT'S NOT DON'T GET YOUR HOPES UP FOR IT BECAUSE I'M GOING TO WRECK THEM NEXT CHAPTER THIS IS THE ONLY WARNING YOU GET

I hope you enjoyed Doc's first encounter with clickers and a taste of badass Joel's infected fighting skills - dude is a PRO. More to come next chapter as the journey back to the QZ is pretty damn eventful, too :)

Thank you for reading and interacting! I love all your feedback and following along with you as you read this story. There is a tag list for anyone who is interested, just comment below and I'll add you. If you've requested an add but aren't tagged, comment below or shoot me a message. Thanks for sharing your insight and spending your time with my work. Love you all!

Taglist: @paleidiot@ayamenimthiriel@ginger-swag-rapunzel@drewharrisonwriter@flugazi @pedropascalsbbg@taoyuji@starstruckmusiciansartghost@splendsay@bigboiseason123

#joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #smut fic #fanfic

213 notes · View notes

criticallyacclaimedstranger · 1 year

Text

Stonemilker [Joel x f!reader]

Read on Ao3

Fandom: The Last of Us (HBO)

Ship: Joel Miller x you (cishet f reader)

Tags/warnings: Heartache, breakup stuff, Ellie lives and Joel is lying to her, sad sex, you know this is ending sex, Couple fighting, idk what this is folks, it's a sad story with a hopeful ending.

Summary: When Joel returns to Jackson with Ellie, something has changed. Can your relationship survive it? Takes place after episode 9 of season 1.

Words: 3,967

A/N: The title Stonemilker is the title of the first track of Björk's Vulnicura (2015), an album solely about the end of a relationship. Cheers to @rambling-in-purple for reading it before posting <3!

Joel returned a changed man. A younger man. A less hurting man.

Ellie was with him, of course, hugging you tightly in the kitchen of the small house you had been given. You had been setting the dinner table for one when she had burst in and called your name, Joel striding in behind her. You dropped the plate, and the porcelain pieces spread around your feet.

Little did you know that your life was about to shatter in the same way.

Joel gave you a warm hug, nothing more. You wanted to hear everything about their journey, but they were both tired and hungry, so you gave them time to shower and change into clean clothes while you adapted dinner to feed three.

Later that night, when you went to bed with Joel, you saw the hideous wound on the right side of his stomach. He told you what had happened since he and Ellie left Jackson.

He told you everything: the abandoned college, the stab wound, and how close he was to dying. Ellie saving him. The resort. All the dead bodies. The hospital.

His decision. Hallways of dead people left behind. His lie to Ellie.

"Joel..."

He looked at you with shrouded eyes. Where there used to be an iron curtain, there was now a thin veil that showed depths of horrors, but also hope. It scared you more than the hard metallic gaze that you were used to.

You knew why he did it. You understood him. You would probably have done the same.

"You have to tell her."

"One day, I will."

"Sooner rather than later. She deserves to know the truth."

There it was, the unyielding steel in his eyes. He never appreciated being told the obvious. But when Ellie did that, slapped him in the face with inconvenient truths and poignant teases, he grimaced to keep from smiling. When you did it, you received a glare.

You had always thought that that glare was yours because Joel didn't have any other way of expressing his reluctant amusement. And it was, but there was a smile-hiding grimace as well, just not for you.

Something had changed. You didn't realize just how much until a few weeks later, when you were out with the hunting party, and a cougar popped up so suddenly that not even the horses had smelled it. It was a young animal, probably a male looking for a territory of its own, and you were the closest to it. Your horse reared, you fell off, hit your elbow on a rock that just had to be precisely there. As if by some miracle, your head missed it, though. The wind got knocked out of you while your brain was screaming frantically at you to get up and get your gun, but before you could move, a shot rang out over the plain, and the horses neighed in fear.

Deion was by your side a moment later, brows knitted together in worry.

"You okay?"

Breath returning, you began to feel the impact of your fall. Left elbow was smarting, your ass was probably bruised, and your heart was beating a mile a minute from the scare.

"I'm fine," you managed to wheeze. He helped you up, carefully pulling you on your feet. He held your hand as he inspected your face for discomfort. You let him. It's comforting, that big, warm hand holding yours.

"You sure?" He wanted to be certain before he let you go. You nodded and forced a smile.

"I'll have a bruise, but I'm good." You've had worse, so much worse.

The warmth of Deion's hand lingers on your skin long after he releases your hand. As you get on the horse and ride back to Jackson, you find yourself thinking about how Joel never showed such concern for your well-being. And he doesn't do it now, either, when you return sooner than expected, moving like you're in pain - which you are.

"You need to be more careful," he tells you gruffly. You know it's his thing, he doesn't do softness, and yet... he does to Ellie. He speaks kindly to her, laughs with her, talks to her about things beyond mere survival. Tells her about his daughter. That's a new one, he never even mentioned his daughter to you.

It's heartwarming to see him thawed. The glimpses of who he used to be melt together with who he is now. You always suspected he was a great kind of guy before the world went to shit and he was forced to become a version of himself that he himself hated. And it hurts you more than the bruising that he cannot be this new person with you, only with Ellie. She deserves the best Joel, you know that, but don't you? After all you've been through with him?

You argue with him later that night. That's also new. While you may have disagreed with him occasionally before, you have never fought about it. Maybe it's the comfort of Jackson, the fact that a disagreement no longer means the risk of death. Maybe you have just had your fill.

"You could at least say something that doesn't make it sound like it's my fault!" you yell, unconcerned with your voice carrying over to the next room where Ellie is asleep. "You could ask me if I'm okay!"

"I can see that you're okay," Joel replies irritably. "I've seen you take worse hits."

"I am not okay, Joel!" The words are spat into the half-lit bedroom and the silence that follows is heavy from the impact. Joel crosses his arms in front of his chest and looks at you with unreadable eyes. It's not his usual glare, the one he gives you no matter the reason, because it's all he's capable of. It's just... closed. Like he has nothing more to give you.

You sleep in separate rooms that night. Ellie is unusually demure in the morning, looking from you to Joel and back to you, clearly bothered by your fight the night before. You make a mental note to talk to her after breakfast but before you can suggest an activity, Joel asks her if she wants to go out shooting.

Okay, let Joel deal with Ellie.

You go to your chores, which consist of animal care for most of the day. Deion joins you. He wants to know how you're feeling.

How are you feeling? Bruised and annoyed. Sad and confused. Touched and frustrated. Abandoned. Lonely.

"I'm good," you assure him with a light smile. "A little sore, but I've had worse."

All day he sees to it that you rest. He takes care of the tasks that will aggravate the aches of your beaten-up body. He reminds you to take a break when it's nearing lunch time.

He cares so clearly. Is this what it's like, to be with someone who cares?

Ellie is bubbly that night. She and Joel have had fun, she tells you, and you're happy for her. Ellie is a child who was never allowed to be one. She deserves carefree days. She deserves a father figure, a dad. A mom, too, but you have no idea how to be that. Especially when things are so askew with Joel. Whatever things are, were, should be. You and Joel used to be about teamwork, survival, partnership. But life in Jackson is different. What you two had, were, is not needed here. What else can you be?

Joel watches you take your clothes off when you get ready for bed. You turn your back to him, maybe out of misguided, sudden shyness, maybe to show him the bruise that has painted half your back. It was dark red yesterday, now it's turning purple.

His feet are heavy on the floorboards when he walks up to you. His rough fingers are surprisingly soft when tracing the outlines of the bruise. You close your eyes, lean into his touch, sigh softly when he kisses you neck. You lie down on the bed and let Joel take you. He's gentle, more so than usual, but every thrust pushes you against the bumpy mattress, hurting you. Neither one of you speak but when Joel has finished, he cradles your face in his hands and kisses your forehead so softly that it's barely a kiss at all. You turn your back to him when you go to sleep. Your muscles are sore from the coupling, and you quietly love that tenderness like one would a bittersweet heartache. The bruise on your lower back throbs like a young heart in love, and when you turn onto your side, away from Joel, you wish he would kiss the miscolored blossoms.

But he doesn't. He simply turns away from you, just as you turned away from him. With a canyon between your warm, spent bodies, you both go to sleep.

Ellie accompanies you to your chores the next day. After a quiet hour of cleaning the stable, she eventually asks you if you're mad at her.

"No, Ellie, why would you think that?" you ask, immediately regretting your poor choice of words. She shrugs, leaning against a stall door, both hands gripping the handle of the pitchfork, the prongs scraping loudly against the floor.

"You've been weird since we got back. You and Joel have been fighting."

"That has nothing to do with you," you lie, hopefully convincingly. Ellie looks up at you, a hard glint in her eyes.

"I'm not stupid. You never fought before, not for as long as I've known you."

You stop your sweeping but don't know what to say.

"You barely talk to each other," she insists.

"It's complicated," you tell her feebly. "But it has nothing to do with you, Ellie, I promise."

"Then what is it?"

You shake your head. "I'm not going to talk about our relationship with you, Ellie. It's not your problem."

"It is my problem if my - " she stops herself, the word parents hanging in the air for a second, before she continues: " - if you two are going to, I don't know, get a divorce or some shit."

An amused scoff escapes you before you can stop yourself. "We're not married, Ellie."

"I know. But you're, like, together, right?"

"I don't know what we are," you blurt out, averting your eyes so you don't have to see her reaction at your confession. You hear the scraping of her shoe at the floor.

"Did you count on me not being here anymore?"

Her voice is small and sounds so different from its normal curious and teasing tone. A clump forms in your throat.

"Ellie..."

"I'm in the way."

You let go of the broom and focus instead on Ellie, standing in front of her and taking the pitchfork from her so that you can grasp her hands.

"You're not in the way," you tell her firmly. Ellie looks away, and you shake your head to stress your words. "Ellie, look at me."

She meets your steady gaze, and you see how conflicted she is. Poor girl. She is a child. You can barely remember what it was like to be that age and besides, it was another world ago, but you do remember that it was difficult and confusing for so many reasons.

"You are not in the way," you emphasize softly. "But this situation is new, for all of us. This place. This dynamic. We're not just surviving anymore, Ellie, we have a chance to live. And I... I've never had that chance with Joel before. So I'm struggling a little right now. But it has nothing to do with you, okay? You just... be you. You're so good for him, Ellie, you have saved him in more ways than one."

She purses her lips, and you see her throat muscles work as she swallows.

"Okay," she finally nods, quietly. You press a smile, try to look like this problem was resolved.

"Okay." You give her a quick hug before going back to your work. Ellie seems relieved but you can't stop thinking about how you pinned it all on your own back. You are struggling, you are having a hard time of this new way of life. As if Joel has nothing to do with it. As if his broad, once so safe, and reassuring back isn't now turned to you in cool detachment.

You try to bring the topic to him later that night, tell him that Ellie is noticing and worrying. It ends in a fight and this time it's Joel who sleeps on the uncomfortable couch. You lie awake, wondering what went wrong. Is it really you who changed? Are you being a selfish bitch, jealous of a 14-year-old girl? Do you really want life to go on as it did before, in the Boston QZ, fighting for your life with Joel by your side?

Why is settling down so hard?

Nothing changes in the coming weeks. Talking to Joel is like milking a stone. Every now and then the two of you fight, as quietly as you can when Ellie has gone to bed. You still think he should tell her. He refuses to, and you can see the fear in his eyes. Ellie will be furious with him; you both know it. The longer he keeps her in the dark, the worse it's going to be. You find yourself wishing that you'll be far away when the day comes.

One early spring day you ride out with Deion to check on the traps. You've spent most of your days with him these past few weeks. He appreciates you, sees you, wants to hear your opinion. He takes you to the movies. He asks you about your past. He shows interest where Joel barely even wants you at night anymore.

The snow has started to melt in the sunshine, and you find a sun-kissed clearing where the ground is yellow with glacier lilies. The air is warm, and you can smell the changing of the season. You dismount and crouch among the delicate yellow flowers, hover your hands over them, smile in childlike delight when you see bees buzzing from flower to flower. You can't remember the last time you saw bees.

In that clearing, you ask Deion to kiss you, and he does, almost immediately. Not until the kiss is over does he express regret.

"You're with Joel."

"No, I'm not."

He smiles, and kisses you again, and you remember those first pre-teen infatuations: the warmth, the excitement, the heart-stopping angst about whether or not the subject of your passions felt the same. You remember all that but only feel it radiate from Deion. The feelings are unrequited.

That night you collect your few belongings into your backpack and leave the house. You hug Ellie and ask her to forgive you. You say nothing to Joel, and he says nothing to you.

You do not go to Deion, but instead to the boarding house where new arrivals are placed while awaiting homes of their own. Deion is kind, and he showed you what it would be like to be with a person who genuinely cares for you, but you don't want to rebuild your shattered life around a man.

A week later you mount a horse and leave Jackson. You have no plan, no light to look for, but you can finally breathe freely. Heading west, you ride at a slow pace all day, enjoying yourself more than maybe is appropriate. Your saddle-sore backside in the evening doesn't put a damper on your joy when you sit by your small fire with a cup of herbal tea. This is the start of something new, maybe disastrous, but definitely different.

The dark woods around you don't scare you, neither does being alone. You realize now just how alone - lonely - you've been these past couple of months, smack in the middle of the warm and well-organized community that Jackson is. Its friendly inhabitants weren't enough: you only wanted kindness from one single person. To be alone out here, by choice, feels a lot better than the time spent in Jackson.

When you prepare to leave the campsite the next morning, a horse emerges between the trees. Instinctively, you reach for your gun before your brain has processed the face of the rider.

It's Joel. Your mouth falls open and your legs feel weak.

"What are you doing here?" you manage when he dismounts. His hunched shoulders tell you clearly that he's uncomfortable and also stalling as he, very meticulously, ties the reins to a nearby tree. You wait impatiently for him to acknowledge you. When he finally does, his nut-brown eyes are clear in the first rays of the sun.

"I'm here to ask you if you would consider returning."

You have to bite your tongue in order not to laugh out loud. Your hard stare tells him everything, and he shifts his weight from one foot to the other.

"I'm going to tell Ellie about what happened at the hospital."

You raise an eyebrow. "Why are you here telling me that?"

"Because when I do, she's going to hate me, and I can't stand losing both of you."

"It's a little too late for that, Joel."

He nods, wets his lips. Looks away and draws a wet breath. Rests his hands on his hips, purses his lips. You realize he's fighting against unwanted yet inevitable tears.

Joel crying. That's a new one.

Moments pass, minutes, maybe hours, days, you have no idea, but you keep staring at Joel as he stubbornly looks to the forest, as if there was an answer or saving grace to be had between the trees. You are relentless in the midst of the rising sun, the singing birds, the soft shush of the wind through the budding treetops. He has to make the first move, show something, say something. Offer an explanation to why he stopped listening. Where did the apathy in his eyes come from? Why did he suddenly decide to show no concern for you?

He brings his hand to his eyes, rubs them quickly with forefinger and thumb. He then turns back to you.

"Ellie misses you."

You stand your ground, implacable as you wait for him to continue. Finally, he confesses:

"I miss you. The minute you left I started missing you."

"Then why did you let me leave?" you ask flatly.

"I wasn't going to stop you if that's what you wanted."

You refuse to engage, even though you want to scream at him: Do you think I wanted to leave?

"Was it Deion?"

"What?" Your eyebrows meet in a surprised frown. "What about Deion?"

"You spent so much time with him. Did you... was there anything between you?"

Unable to play it cool anymore, you take a step closer.

"How fucking dare you? You have no right!" Your horse and Joel's shift their weight, ears twitching nervously.

He's a little taken back with your raised voice, but he doesn't match it.

"Sorry," he mutters instead, and now it's your turn to drop your jaw. For a moment, both of you just stand there, looking at each other, trying to find some common ground to share so that things can be resolved.

It's Joel who finally finds that little patch of soil to sow the seeds of reconciliation.

"You remember how I tried to make Tommy take Ellie to the Fireflies?" he asks, and you nod mutely. Of course you remember. The tension in the house had been so thick you could have cut it with a knife.

"But I took her. And everything that happened after that... happened. I have to live with the consequences. I just had to keep her."

He shakes his head, something desperate filling his features. "If I get to keep her, I can't keep you."

"What do you mean?" you ask quietly, not following. The long look he gives you is anguished, but he stays quiet, as if he has said too much. Your brain is working at full capacity until it has connected the dots.

"Is this some kind of 'can't have too much good shit in my life' bullshit?" you ask hoarsely, almost afraid of the answer. "Because that is just... Joel, you are an idiot."

You're shaking by now, and Joel bristles a little.

"Look, Ellie has nobody else. She's stuck with me, for better or for worse. She's a kid. But you are not. You can have someone better."

"What if I don't want anyone better, what if I happen to love a complete fucking idiot who doesn't deserve me but is stuck with me because I chose it myself!?" you scream, tears filling your eyes and escaping down your cheeks. Joel winces, as if you just slapped him, but when he sees your tears, he closes the gap between the two of you with a few long strides. The next thing you know, you're crushed against his broad chest, smelling his sweat and slightly woodsy scent with leather and horse and melting snow. He holds you so tightly it's almost constricting your breathing, but you don't fight back. You've fought back for long enough.

"Darlin'," he murmurs throatily. "Darlin'. You love me?"

"I did," you sob. "But I don't know if I still do."

He's quiet, his hand moving in slow, comforting caresses over your back. Something is broken in you and the splinters are pressing against your internal organs, making breathing near impossible. Your face against Joel's chest, you think you can sense something break in him as well.

"You're right," he finally whispers. "I am an idiot and an asshole."

Your only response is more tears because now he gets it, now the milk is flowing from that goddamn stone, and it just might be too late. You don't know if you can trust him to handle your broken pieces right, or if there is a second chance for him in you.

There is no telling how long you stand like that, entwined in a sad, desperate embrace. The sun's rays start to feel warm even when you're cold inside. When your tears finally dry up, you shift in Joel's arms, and he releases you. You can't look at him, can't let him see you like this, but he gently places his finger under your chin, and raises your face to his.

"Am I too late?" he asks. His eyes are red and there are wet trails on his cheeks. You swallow hard, try to navigate between your desires and needs.

"What would change?" you finally ask. He places his warm, slightly sweaty palm against your cheek and brushes his thumb just under your eye, catching a lingering tear.

"I would love you."

He has never said that word to you before, and you want to ask for a detailed description of what it entails. How will he love you? Will he listen, help, support, share?

If Ellie decides to hate him, will he hate you in return? Will Ellie?

On the other side is a vast wilderness of no coordinates, the unknown with all its dangers. What are your chances of survival, of finding decent people? Jackson is full of decent people, and now also Joel and Ellie. Joel, who hurt you. Ellie, who is torn between the two of you.

He waits for your answer, and you find that you don't have a definite one to give him. But you know what direction to take.

"We'll talk about it on the ride back."

If that direction is a way forward or a way back, you don't know. You just feel that it would be wrong not to try.

#the last of us fanfic #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #my fic

236 notes · View notes

sourwolf-sterek32 · 1 year

Text

Broken Without You

Summary: After witnessing the death of your best friend Henry and his little brother, you're close to giving up and ending it all. Until Joel asks you to join him and Ellie on their journey across the country and gives you a reason to keep fighting.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: language, blood

Previous Chapter

Chapter 2-

"My plan worked. I delivered." Henry announced once you were back topside and walking down the empty street outside the city.

The moon was shining brightly in the sky above you, lighting up the road without the need of flashlights. You trailed behind them, your eyes scanning the old abandoned houses for any sign of movement, but it seemed to be clear.

"So, we cross the river and then what? Where are you gonna go?" Ellie asked, glancing over at Henry.

"Don't know yet."

"Well, we're going to Wyoming." She answered causing Joels head to snap in her direction with a warning look. "What? It's a huge state. It can fit three more people."

"No offence, kid. I think once we're out of here, we go our separate ways. It'll be better for everyone." You responded, eyeing Joel cautiously.

You still weren't sure what to make of him. Sure, he gave Sam his food last night, but he had been nothing but cold towards you. He clearly didn't want you or Henry around, he hadn't been trying to hide it, so it was better that you just went your separate ways.

"No, he'll change his mind. Trust me. This is how it goes. He's like, 'no, Ellie. Never, ever, ever happening.' And then I'm like, 'I'm gonna ask you a million more times.' And he's like-"

A gunshot suddenly cracked through the still night air. The bullet whizzing straight past your head and hitting the tree behind you with a loud bang.

"Move, move!" Joel's voice shouted.

You were already moving, grabbing Sam and Henry and shoving them down behind one of the broken-down cars beside Joel and Ellie.

"The fuck is that coming from?" Henry questioned in panic.

"Shut up." Joel snapped, glaring at him before he slowly peaked out over the hood of the car, but quickly ducked back down when the person fired again.

"Fuck. Let's move. Let's go." Henry said, grabbing Sam's hand and about to run away.

"No! Stay down." You ordered, grabbing Henry's other arm and yanking them both down just as another bullet flew past them. "Are you fucking crazy? You nearly got killed."

You shook your head at him before you peaked around the side of the car trying to locate the shooter before he fired again, and you saw the flash of the gunshot in the upper story of the house across the road.

"Shooter is in the top window of that house." You informed, glancing over at Joel whose wild panicked eyes met yours. "If you give me that gun I can sneak around the back of the house and take him out."

A surprised look flashed across his eyes, but he quickly schooled his expression and shook his head.

"I'll go. You guys stay here."

"What?" Ellie practically yelped.

"If you don't move, he's not gonna hit you." Joel reassured, his voice softer and gentler than you had ever heard it before he glanced over at you. "I'm gonna do what you said. Make sure they stay behind the car."

You nodded, reaching over and grabbing Sam's hand, making sure the boy didn't try and run anywhere, although it was probably Henry you should be worried about running if earlier was any indication.

"But if you go out there, he's gonna kill you." Ellie exclaimed.

"It's dark, and he has shit aim. Nobody's gonna kill me."

"Then he's gonna kill us."

"Do you trust me?" Joel asked, looking back at Ellie who nodded without hesitation.

For someone who claimed not to be his daughter, she seemed rather attached to him and vice versa. But that was something to think about later when you weren't being shot at.

You watched Joel run off, ducking behind any object he could use for cover as the shooter began to fire at him, but like Joel said, he had shit aim. Not even a minute later, there was a very distinct gunshot, different from the single shot rifle from earlier and you knew that had to be Joel. He did it.

"I think it's clear now." You said, slowly standing up from behind the car, ready to duck back down if need be, but there were no more bullets flying towards you. "He did it."

The others all sighed with relief and stood up too, but before you could start making your way to the house, the sudden roar of car engines filled the air.

You spun around to find bright headlights of vehicles speeding down the road towards you. The large reinforced armoured truck charged through, taking out all the broken-down cars in its path and your stomach dropped. It was them.

"Run. Now, go, go!" You shouted, ushering them all in the opposite direction.

The repetitive single shot blast started up again, Joel now shooting at the cars through the window of the house. Ellie pulled her handgun out, firing off a few rounds behind her in the general direction of the cars as the three of you sprinted for your lives.

One of Joel's shots must have landed because when you glanced over your shoulder, the truck suddenly turned left, crashing into one of the houses on the side of the road. Ellie was lying on the ground though, having tripped over and you quickly rushed over to her.

"Are you okay?" You asked, looking at her up and down for any gunshots or injuries, but she seemed to be okay.

The rest of the resistance cars suddenly pulled up, their bright headlights momentarily blinding you. You shielded your eyes just as they all exited the vehicles with rifles and various weapons in their hands.

Shit, that wasn't good.

"Go. Run." You ordered, pushing Ellie forward.

Suddenly the truck caught alight from where it had crashed in the house and exploded. The force of the explosion sent you flying forward, your body tumbling hard onto the bitumen road and head slamming against it.

Black dots clouded your vision and for a moment, you feared you were going to pass out, but you managed to blink them away to find Ellie leaning over you. She was shouting, her mouth frantically moving, but you couldn't hear anything above the loud ringing in your ears.

The girl grabbed your arm, helping you to your feet. You stumbled a few steps, but managed to keep your footing as the two of you sprinted across the street and took cover behind one of the broken-down cars where Henry and Sam were.

"Holy shit, is she okay?" Henry questioned as you dropped down beside him, your back pressed against the side door of the vehicle.

"I-I don't know, man. She hit her head hard." Ellie breathlessly answered, looking over at you worriedly.

You could feel blood trickling down the side of your face from the cut on your forehead, the blood matting in your hair and staining the collar of your jacket. You closed your eyes for a few seconds, willing the world around you to stop spinning.

Hands suddenly cupped your face, and you opened your eyes to find Henry looking at you panic. You still couldn't hear anything between the ringing and blood rushing in your ears, but Henry must have heard something. His body turned tense to the point of shaking before he started to shout stuff over his shoulder and you realised he was probably shouting at Kathleen.

Henry turned back towards you, the panic in his eyes earlier now only heightened as he looked between the three of you.

"Get ready to take Sam and run." He signed while he spoke, realising that you were having trouble hearing after the explosion.

Take Sam and run? What? What was he going to do?

You watched in confusion as he gave you a small reassuring smile before he suddenly stepped out from behind the car with his hands raised.

He was going to hand himself in. That realisation hit you like a truck, and you jumped to your feet in an instant. Ellie tried to grab your arm to stop you, but you were already out of arms reach as you stumbled out from behind the car and stood beside Henry.

Kathleen stood across the road, her army of resistant soldiers beside her while the truck and house burned brightly from behind her. She grinned when she saw you before she raised her handgun in your direction, but she didn't get a chance to use it.

The truck that was imbedded into the house suddenly began to move. Kathleen turned around and you watched the truck slowly sink into the ground, disappearing completely and your blood turned cold when you realised what was happening.

As if on cue, the ground below you began to rumble, and you had to grab hold of Henrys shoulder to keep yourself up right. Your hearing slowly started to come back and all you could hear were the snarls and growls of infected.

Then, within a blink of an eye, a sea of infected emerged from the sinkhole and charged at all the resistance.

You were paralysed where you stood as you stared at the mass amount of infected tearing apart the soldiers. You had never seen so many in your entire life, and they were everywhere.

Henry suddenly pulled you back behind the car before he grabbed Sam's hand and the group of you sprinted in the opposite direction, trying to get away from the infected and men with guns.

Amongst all the chaos, you lost sight of Ellie. The girl was no longer with the three of you and you frantically looked around.

"Where's Ellie?!" You shouted over the gunfire.

"I don't know. We need to go!" Henry shouted back.

Shit, you couldn't just leave her.

"Go! I'll be right behind you." You responded, waving at Henry and Sam to keep running before you turned and jogged back in the direction you had just came from, ignoring Henry shouting your name.

You picked up a rifle off the ground from one of the many dead bodies while ducking and weaving between the infected, most too distracted attacking Kathleen's people to worry about you. The ones that did notice, you shot before they could reach you.

You hated how familiar the weapon felt in your hands. The standard issue AR-15 which you knew inside out. You ignored the feeling and pressed the butt of the gun into your shoulder as you looked through the red dot sight and shot the infected sprinting towards you.

The past was the past. It was buried, and you planned to keep it that way.

Suddenly, something banged against the window of the car to your left and you turned around with your gun raised, expecting it to be another infected, but then your eyes landed on Ellie.

She was inside the car. Oh, thank God.

"Open the door!"

Her voice was muffled inside the car as she frantically pulled on the door handle, but the car door was stuck. She couldn't open it.

You rushed over and tried the outside handle, but the door wouldn't budge, and that's when you saw the child sized infected in the backseat heading straight for Ellie.

"Move!" You yelled, waving her away from the car window before you put a bullet through it and the glass shattered on impact.

You used the barrel of the gun to clear out the remaining shards of glass before tossing the weapon over your shoulder with the gun strap. Ellie practically threw herself out the window, and you grabbed her, helping her the rest of the way out.

"Thank you. Thank you. Thank you." Ellie panted as you looked back at the car to find the infected already starting to climb out the window too. "Shit, Henry and Sam are in trouble."

Those words had your head snapping away from the infected kid and you followed Ellies line of sight and spotted the two of them huddle together under a car while some infected tried to reach them. Shit

You grabbed Ellie's hand, not wanting to lose her again as you began to run towards Sam and Henry. But you barely got a few metres before an infected appeared in front of you.

A bullet suddenly shot out of nowhere, killing the infected instantly and there was no questioning where that single shot had come from. It was Joel.

You glanced over your shoulder towards the house he was still in to find him sitting in the window with the scoped rifle. You gave him a small two finger salute and he nodded back before you took off running again.

Joel continued to take down the infected around you, clearing a path for the two of you before you reached Sam and Henry. You wasted no time, grabbing one of the infected that was holding Sam's leg and yanked it off the boy before Joel had a clear shot and killed it.

"Come on! Come on!" Ellie shouted, reaching down and helping Henry out from under the car before you all took off running.

You reached the side of the house Joel was in, but didn't get a chance to go inside before a familiar voice shouted at you.

"Stop!"

You turned around with your gun raised, moving in front of Ellie and Sam protectively just as Kathleen stepped forward, her handgun pointed at you.

"Drop the gun. I said, drop the fucking gun!" You yelled, finger resting on the trigger.

"No, I don't think I will. Henry turned my brother in, but I know it was you that killed him. So, now you get to watch Henry and Sam die."

"You make a move on them, you'll be dead before you hit the ground." You warned.

Kathleen grinned, but before she could say anything in response, the very same child clicker from the car earlier appeared out of nowhere and attacked her.

You quickly took a few steps back and watched the child unleash at her, tearing her body apart right in front of you. If you hadn't gotten that car door open, that is what would've happened to Ellie.

"This way now! Move!" Joel's voice suddenly shouted.

He grabbed your shoulder, startling you out of your thoughts before he pulled you away and you quickly followed. The group of you ran off into the darkness away from the total destruction happening behind you.

You didn't stop running until you could no longer hear the growls of the infected in the distance and you managed to find an old motel on the side of the road.

After sweeping one of the rooms and barricading the front door shut, you all collapsed on the floor, completely exhausted. Well, minus Ellie and Sam who were sitting on the bed in the other room busy reading a comic book together.

"I don't think it needs stitches, but this is the best I can do." Henry said, kneeling in front of you as he finished cleaning the cut on your forehead with a wet cloth. "How do you feel?"

"I told you, I'm fine." You sighed, not wanting him to worry about you.

"Mmm, yeah. You really think I believe that?" He asked, standing up with a stretch.

"I don't care what you believe. It's the truth."

"The truth? Really?" He asked, raising his eyebrow at you in disbelief. He tossed the wet rag onto the bench before he lifted himself up onto it and sat down, looking over at you. "That is coming from the girl who crashed her bicycle when we were five and didn't tell anyone until her wrist literally turned black. I had to take you to the ER on the handlebars of my bike."

You rolled your eyes at the memory and leant your head back against the wall behind you and closed them. The light coming in from the kids room was ridiculously brighter than normal.

A few seconds later, something hit your chest and you opened your eyes and looked down to find a piece of beef jerky now in your lap. Frowning in confusion, you looked up to find Joel walking past, chewing his own jerky before he glanced over at you.

"Don't fall asleep yet. You might have a concussion." He said, taking a seat against the wall a few metres away.

You scoffed, "why do you care?"

"I don't." He answered honestly, before he tilted his head back towards you. "But, uh, thank you."

"What?"

"I said, thank you. I saw what you did back there. You saved Ellie in that car. So, thank you."

You stared at him for a few seconds and realised that he actually meant it and you simply nodded, "she's a good kid."

He nodded too, looking over at the girl sitting in the other room with a fond look in his eye, "she is."

The three of you once again sat in silence while you ate. The kid's laughter and soft chatter the only noise before Henry spoke up.

"You think they'll be okay?"

You glanced over at Henry before looking back at the kids who were sitting side by side reading the comic book happily. Yeah, they'll be okay.

"Yeah, I think... it's easier when you're a kid anyway." Joel replied, speaking up for the first time in a while. "You don't have anybody else relying on you. That's the hard part."

"Well, I guess we're doing a good job then."

Joel nodded, looking back at the kids, "what's that comic book say? Endure and survive?"

"Endure and survive." Henry repeated before shaking his head. "That shit's redundant."

"Yeah, it's not great." Joel admitted.

"No." Henry agreed, chuckling softly and you smiled, missing hearing your best friend laugh like that.

"Look, I don't know exactly how I'm gettin' to Wyoming and I'm probably walkin'. But... you know, if you want to..." He trailed off, looking between the two of you and Henry quickly nodded.

"Yeah. Yeah. I think it'd be nice for Sam to have a friend. I'll tell him in the morning. New day, new start."

You watched as Henry stood up and walked into the kids' room, telling Sam it was time for bed before Joel tossed you another piece of jerky which you caught this time.

You nodded your thanks, but didn't say anything and he didn't say anything either as the two of you sat in comfortable silence eating your jerky quietly.

Next Chapter

MASTERLIST pinned to profile

Commissions open! Link in bio & DM for enquiries

If anyone wants to be added to the tag list, just let me know ❤️

#joel miller #joel miller series #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel the last of us #tlou #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #Pedro Pascal #ellie williams #bella ramsey

238 notes · View notes

winniethewife · 6 months

Text

Believe in one thing, I won't go away

Chapter 3: Let her know how much she means

A/n: Last chapter! Thankful to everyone who read it! (I Like to think the picture is one reader took and keeps as her phone background or something adorable)

Chapter 2

Words:1031

A Whole year had Passed, Basil was holding the black velvet box in hand. He opens it for a second, the Small marquise cut diamond ring glittered in the light. He felt like he was a mess. He looked at the love of his life sitting out on the balcony in the morning air. He had ordered food from her favorite Italian restaurant to be delivered that night, and managed to get a bottle of Champaign. Tonight was the night. He was going to ask her to marry him. He slides the ring box in the drawer he was hiding it in, surrounded by sticky notes. He wanders out on the balcony and lights his cigarette before looking at her, she was leaning back in the patio chair, looking out on the city, a thoughtful expression on her face.

“Penny for your thoughts dear?” Basil asks after taking a drag of his cigarette.

“Oh, it’s nothing. I was just…thinking.” She smiles at him getting up and walking over to him, He put an arm around her as she came over and held her.

“Oh yeah thinking, Dangerous operation that.” He jokes, she laughs.

“I suppose so, you never know what might happen.” She played along. A smile on her face. Basil pulled her in tight, burying his face in her hair, holding his cigarette out to the side as he takes in her familiar scent. He hums softly before running his hand under her shirt, running his hand along her stomach, her soft skin soothing to the touch. She turns in his arms and reaches to touch his face, gentle caresses over the scarring on his face. Neither of them expect to look like they used to, but slowly overtime the scars on their face have started to heal. Basil’s hand still under her shirt on the small of her back tracing circles on her skin as he looks at her with adoration.

“I love you.” He says softly kissing the tip of her nose,

“And I love you.” She says with a smile taking his face in her hands and pressing their foreheads together.

That evening dinner was delivered and Basil was setting everything up as she was finishing up some work. When she was done she got up and went to the bedroom really quick to grab something and she saw one of her nice dresses was laid out on the bed. She smiles and takes some time to put it on and freshen up. She assumed it was just another surprise date night. Something she and basil had done many times. As she wanders back downstairs to be greeted by Basil at the foot of the stairs.

“You look amazing.” He says softly with a look of awe on his face. She smiles at him as he takes her hand and they sit down to eat. Quite conversation happens as normal until at some point she looks up at him to see the nervous expression on his face.

“Baz Baby…Something up?” She asks.

“Uh. Yeah…I um.” He felt like he was freezing up, how does he even ask?

“Basil…you can tell me anything. You know that right?” She reminds him softly reaching across the table to hold his hand, their fingers intertwining. Basil finds the courage in her touch.

“Right, well um here goes…I…I…” Basil feels the tears coming to his eyes, words fail him. He had a whole speech prepared about how much she means to him, how much she mattered, but it was all out the window as he looks into her caring eyes, He squeezes her hand gently and simply takes the ring box out of his pocket opening it to show her. Her eyes lit up in surprise.

“Are you…Are you asking what I think you’re asking?’ She looks at Basil as he continues to fall apart, his tears rushing down his face as he nods. She smiles. “Then, Yes. Yes I will marry you Basil.” She gets out of her seat, kneeling in front of him and taking his face in her hands, wiping his tears away. “I love you Baz, I always have, Always will.”

It was an Autumnal day, the chill in the air had the two newlyweds cuddled under blankets as they listened to music, enjoying a quiet afternoon with no obligation. The wedding had been nice, Just them and Family at the court house. They had made jokes about everyone wearing paper bags, but they ended up just going with the flow. It was just them and family, nobody cared or judged them and they were happy. Now they just enjoyed each other’s company listening to the music on the record player as basil lay his head in her lap. She’s running her fingers through his dark curls as she hums along quietly to the music.

“I love you…you know that right?” Basil says softly.

“I do. And you know that I love you right?” She replies

“Yeah. I do.” He hums in approval. Basil closes his eyes, taking in her scent as she rests on him. She smiles as she caresses his face, her thumb gently running under his eye, letting his eyelashes run over the tip of her thumb. She leans in and kisses his forehead, eliciting another soft hum from his lips. “You’re too good to me, my love.”

“Am I now? I had no idea.” She chuckled. He opened his eyes again.

“I am ever so lucky you came to help me, I would have never guessed that when you showed up at my door that day it would lead to you being my wife.” He says softly as he reaches up to touch her face.

“I don’t think either of us had planned that out.” She leans into his touch. “I just knew the second I saw you again. I wasn’t ever going to leave again. You needed me, then I needed you. We needed each other.” As She says this Basil sits up and wraps his arms around her pulling her in, Kissing the top of her head.

“Now we have each other… and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Masterlist

#basil stitt x reader #basil #basil stitt #lightningface fanfiction #lightningface #oscar isaac fic #Spotify #x reader #fluff

43 notes · View notes

toomanystoriessolittletime · 1 year

Text

Masterlist Joel Miller

Updated: February 28th 2024

updated fics/ new fics marked with ->

Counting Stars (G->E; Soulmate AU; ongoing)

Mel didn’t know she would ever get out of the hospital that had become her prison. Year after year she lost everything. But then when she finally got the chance to escape she took it. And all thanks to the man who took down everything in his path to get to his daughter. Joel Miller.

Mine (E)

Only noticing you had put on his shirt when you were out of the house and on your way to work, you did not think much of it. Joel on the other hand had a lot of thoughts when he found you wearing his shirt, visiting you during your break.

a bubble (E)

A supply run gone wrong turned into a stay in an abandoned lake lodge neither you or Joel are in a rush to leave.

Try (T)

“Did I what?” - “Find someone who feels like home to you?” - “I thought I did,” you said. - "What happened?” - “You were with Tess,” you whispered, turning your head to look out of the window.

Healing (G)

A quiet night in after escaping what should have been certain death in Kansas city turns into a nightmare when you wake up to find out your sister had been infected.

Safe (G)

“You can’t keep punishing yourself for what happened twenty years ago. It was not your fault. You are allowed to move on. You are allowed to care for other people And no matter how much you tell yourself that she’s only Cargo. You care for her.”

Nightmares (G)

Ellie has nightmares after what happened with David. So do you. Back in Jackson she just wants to feel safe after another nightmare, searching for the comfort of the people who had become something like parents for her.

Break (E)

When Joel Miller walked into the diner, they knew he wasn’t here for food. He was here for you.

too fast (G)

Sarah getting her first period, leaves Joel Miller standing confused in the women’s hygiene aisle where you, his high school sweetheart, find him and offer your help.

I bet you say that to all the girls (E)

Every Friday at 1pm on the dot Joel Miller pays you for 20 minutes to take you apart in the best way before he leaves again. But what if he wanted more?

Heaven is a place on earth (E)

With Joel being out on Patrol you decided to take a long relaxing bath in the bathtub Joel had installed for you. Once Joel came back home, he wanted to join the fun, not even taking off his clothes before getting to you in the tub.

Claimed (E)

While on the run from raiders and their twisted game of hide and seek you get saved in the last minute by a creature you only thought existed in books. You knew you should be scared, yet you could not find it in you as you looked into the warm brown eyes of a wolf that seemed way too human to be a monster, letting him have you and your body, letting him claim you. Waking up in a cabin the next morning you think it was all a dream, wanting to move on until Tommy and Joel Miller find you in that cabin, offering you to stay in a town called Jackson.

Slow (E)

A night out celebrating Miller Contracting finishing their first big contract on time with the next one around the corner, leaves you going home with Joel and Frank, spending a night with both men you would have never dreamed of.

Sweaty (E)

Things…. escalate after Joel caught you watching him chopping some wood outside in the snow.

Focus (E)

You had been signed up with Joel and two other people to patrol to the radio tower in Cody. After getting there you offer to take first watch, leaving Joel coming up with a… creative idea to test how good of a sharpshooter you really are.

Illicit Affairs (E)

Stranded in an airport hotel because of hurricane warning, you snatch the last hotel room for the following two nights, not knowing that these two nights would change your life forever. You meet Joel and spend every moment you can with him until he leaves you in the middle of the night the day you both had to go back home. Months later, heartbroken and pregnant from a man you hadn’t even exchanged last names with, you go back to your hometown to meet your mother’s new boyfriend, not knowing it’s Joel.)

-> Mistakes (E)

You were tired of men making decisions for you. Even though they had your best interest at heart, all they ended up doing was breaking your heart more and more. After reuniting Joel with his brother Tommy (your Ex who left the QZ without telling anyone including you) in a town called Jackson and an overdue argument with Joel Miller you finally confess your feelings for him, spending the night with the older brother, only to wake up alone in an empty house with him and Ellie gone.

#masterlist #masterlist joel miller #Joel miller #Pedro pascal #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction #my fic #tlou #the last of us

223 notes · View notes

actual-changeling · 11 months

Text

The first week back in Jackson is a gray blur, and Ellie spends most of it asleep, usually in Joel's bed, sometimes in hers, and on occasion even on the living room couch. A lifetime of exhaustion she hasn't been aware of catches up with her, and no matter how many hours of sleep she gets, its weight remains the same.

Their second week looks pretty much the same, with marginally more time spent outside their bedrooms, but Joel is just as burdened with fatigue as she is, and there is not much they can do when keeping their eyes open takes up all the energy they have. They eat, they sleep, Ellie screams her way out of nightmares, and before either of them is fully aware of it, a whole month has passed and spring is fully blooming in the valley around them.

Maybe that's when it starts, once Joel leaves her behind with a kiss to her hair and a promise to be back soon to go on patrol or help out Tommy with whatever odd jobs they can find - the waiting.

First, it's for him to return, and she reads and draws until she runs out of books and paper, and then she sleeps some more (badly without him around). But the calm quiet that has settled into their house doesn't last long, and soon Ellie finds herself expecting something entirely different.

Neither of them has ever been good at standing still, and she starts pacing before he does, counting the steps across the living room and up the stairs, the seconds it takes her to get to the front door from every possible point of the house, how long it would take her to get to him, and how much time she would have to hide if someone came in through the back, the front, or the roof.

Ellie paces, and once the house starts feeling like a cage, she paces some more.

When will we leave?

She wants to ask him about it every night, watching him while he chats about his day like it is the most normal thing in the world.

When are we going to start running again?

The waiting leaves her lips raw and her cuticles bloody. She starts keeping her knife in her pocket throughout the day, then the night, too, and eventually her bag is packed and ready underneath her bed.

Joel starts leaving his books all over the house, and there's a half-carved guitar in the corner of the living room. He fills his closet and tries to fill hers, too, and she lets him, not that she cares much. There are weekly family dinners and people greeting him on the street, and with every day that slows him down, she becomes more tense.

We can't stay, becomes I can't stay, becomes I don't know how to stay.

When he starts asking questions, she doesn't know how to respond. She doesn't know how to tell him that she is not finished yet and that there has to be more to this than monotonous days and safe patrols, more to her.

All she was, all she could have been, is scattered between Boston and Wyoming, a mountain of ash in Colorado, and school four days a week and more books than she can read aren't enough to fill any of the holes left behind.

Relax, learn how to breathe, becomes we can help you.

Ellie tries, she really does, once she realizes that Joel has no intention of leaving and that for him, this is it, and he is it for her. So she stays.

She learns how to count her breaths instead of steps, how to slow down, how to sleep better, and how to walk down the street without watching her back. It's something, a life she never thought she could have but also one she isn't made for, and Ellie is aware that she never quite fits the way everyone else seems to want her to. Joel does not mind, though, not when she counts floorboards and wall tiles and the time it takes her to sneak down the stairs.

After four months, Ellie discovers the bag Joel keeps in the cupboard under the stairs and the gun in the living room cabinet. There might be family breakfasts and day jobs, but his hands curl into fists over and over and over. They leave their house together, and she is on his right, and he turns his head, looks around, checks his back, and they don't talk about the gun hidden beneath his jacket or the knife in her pocket.

We won't leave, they decide, and Ellie knows he is lying at least a little bit when he says it's fine, and Joel knows she is, too, when she says okay.

He watches, she paces, and although they stand still, they're both always just a little out of breath.

#alex writes tlou #the last of us #tlou #joel and ellie #ellie williams #joel miller #ficlet #they both have ptsd and problems adjusting #what else is new

51 notes · View notes

frogychu · 1 year

Text

Antirrhinum Ch.4

ellie x gn!reader

ch. 4 of 4

other parts: 1 / 2 / 3

word count: 3k

Hanahaki (花吐き病) ; disease affecting the lungs, proven to be caused by keeping one's true feelings hidden for too long Or Where you and Ellie have been friends for years until she finally slips up, coughing up petals in front of you.

a/n: ofc its also on AO3 here if u wnna read there instead<3 lets ignore that its a month later! overthinking is rlly something 😋

The air in the room is cold and still, you and Ellie are still on the ground; the infected encounter had run her exhausted. You move your hand to swipe the petals off of her mouth. As much as they are soft, they sting.

How long was she going to keep this from you? She was killing herself for her own fucked up illusion of comfort. The tears, the lying, all because she loved you.

Ellie Williams is madly in love with you.

That same one who insisted on arguing with you every chance she got, the same one who suddenly decided she didn't want to be awful to you anymore, who wanted something more out of your cycle of miscommunication. It was all so painfully obvious, why couldn't you have figured it out sooner? You felt like an idiot.

She swats your hand and looks away from you. “I'm sorry.”

“For what?”

“For…this,” she looks down at her petal-filled jacket, “for loving you I- fuck this is awkward.”

The word 'love' bounces around in your head, making your ears ring. You already knew from the physical manifestation of it on her mouth, but to hear her say it directly was a whole different feeling.

As you're about to answer her, comfort her, say anything at all, she abruptly gets up and begins storming off, “I know you don't feel the same.”

You stay in the same spot for a beat, dumbfounded.

Who says I don’t feel the same way? You thought as you stood up yourself. “Ellie, wait!”

You start running out, stumbling a little as you get up, trying to catch up to her. She's already a little far when you look out the doorway, so you decide to yell as a last resort.

“Who says I don't feel the same?”

She stops dead in her tracks. Snow starts to fall as you await for her to say something, do anything, your nerves aren’t helping you feel good about your abrupt confession. You let your hand go from the frame of the entrance and step outside to get a good look at her.

You watch as she hastly turns to face you, quickly walking over to you, grabbing your face when she reaches you and joining her lips with yours. She tastes like iron and salty tears but you couldn't care less. She pulls away to look at your face, admiring your features and taking everything in as if you were to slip out between her fingers at any second.

"Ellie, I love you."

And then it's over, just like that. Petals no longer infect her lungs or her mind, free from the fucked up punishment for simply hiding her feelings; she’s just normal.

She could cry, and she does, not letting her tear stained face dry before making it damp again. No more nights staying up vomiting her love for you down the drain, no more late nights with Joel having to help her through the seemingly never ending coughing and hacking.

It was all happening at once and fast, but not quickly enough that it scared you. Hearing her take in deep breaths again made it all worth it.

Hell, finally having her made it all worth it

Even if this moment is everything you hoped for and more, you can't help but laugh, “You were really gonna walk all the way home by yourself?”

Ellie looks at you like a deer in headlights, “No…Maybe…Shut Up.” She lets one of her hands go from your face to the dip of your back and pulls you in for another kiss.

You’re a mess.

You have giddy eyes as you hand over Shimmer's reins to the stablekeeper, not bothering to give a sly comment as he looks at the giant goofy smile plastered on your face.

Your cheeks redden as Maria runs over to you and asks why you're back from patrol so early. You’re not able to answer as she gathers context clues from you and your patrol partner holding hands and Ellie’s leftover petals on her jacket. She tells you both to hurry home and not to worry about patrol until the two of you talk.

Heart full, you walk Ellie back to her garage, hand in hand shooting each other occasional loving glances.

Back again in her small home, you help her peel off her jacket, swiftly removing yours soon after. She was still fairly banged up after her unfortunate mishap.

So, you take it upon yourself to help her. “What do you say I help you wash off?”

“Uh, yeah sure.” Her answer is faint and barely audible.

You walk her over to the bathroom and drag a bench from under her sink, turning on the tap of her small bathtub and letting the water fill. She watches you awkwardly as she twiddles with her hands; she's nervous. The realisation hits you and you also get a little embarrassed at the thought of her undressing in front of you.

“You get in, I'll be uh, over there.”

She grabs onto your arm as you turn to leave. “Stay?”

You pause, “Ok, yeah I'll help you.”

Walking back into the small bathroom apprehensively, you’re scared to make her uncomfortable, even if she asked you to be there. You silenced your wandering thoughts to help her.

“Arms up,” you tell her, and she does, letting you pull off her favourite grey hoodie over her head. She seems oddly calm as you watch her take off her bottoms in one swift motion.

You help her get in, arms trembling as you hold her weight, and you start washing her, back turned to you. Scratches adorn her back, she's littered with red marks all over her body. Carefully, you start to wash her, fingers grazing over a particularly big injury.

“What happened?”

She's quiet for a beat, almost as if she's afraid to tell you.

“I was careful like we always are, I took out a runner before my breath ran out on me, I couldn't help it. I was coughing them out. I couldn't stop, so they heard me." Tears begin streaming down her face. “One of them pushed me up against the wall and I got scratched to shit before I shot it, I felt so pathetic not being able to help myself while they were coming at me. I couldn't stop thinking about what if this was the end, I couldn't stand the thought of dying and- and not being able to…”

“Yeah, I know.”

You both sit in silence, taking in her words carefully, thinking about what to say next. You decide to try and lighten the mood.

“When did you first fall for me?”

She turns to you slightly, letting you see her faint smile, “The first time you got to Jackson. The first time I saw you, that was it. Being all sweet to Joel and shit while I wasn't even brave enough to talk to you. I liked watching you do random stuff, like your flowers, and Joel called me a creep for it. I dunno, I just- I didn't know how to talk to you.”

A smile creeps up on your lips as you think about how dorky she was then, how simply smitten she was with you and you didn't even know.

Cute.

"Actually, I asked Maria if I could take you out on your first patrol."

You nudge her shoulder playfully, “Ok stalker, I'm supposed to find this romantic?"

Her demeanour suddenly becomes reserved and nervous, "Well…"

"I do,” you assured her, “keep talking."

She shakes her head, "I found that field a while before I showed it to you, with Dina, she said that she swore you were obsessed with these with the way I talked about you."

"Ugh you're such a sap, but did everyone and their mom know about your little situation? Because it sure sounds like it."

"Well, I told Joel at first after he caught me throwing up, then he told Dina, which was a huge mistake, so everyone sorta knew after that."

You feel slightly endeared at the thought of her gushing about you, but press on with your borderline interview, "So you have this totally blinding crush on me for years that everyone knows about, then you suddenly hate me or what?”

“I didn't suddenly hate you, I was…scared. It was the first time in a long time that I wanted to open up to someone, it scared me. I keep thinking I'm like, cursed or something, and that everyone that cares for me leaves somehow. I didn't want that to happen so I didn't let it happen. It was stupid, I know…”

You let a visible pout form on your lips as you play with her hair and place a soft kiss atop her head, “You know I’m not gonna leave you. I'm yours, Ellie.”

“That's gonna take some getting used to.”

She tries not to look into your eyes after being so honest and vulnerable with you, but you don't let her, moving your bathside bench to look at her, face to face, slowly peppering light kisses all over her face.

"Well you better hurry, I need you to be as obsessed with me as I am with you.”

"You already know I am."

The small mention of her affections towards you makes you turn away from her, flustered, "Hmm maybe. I love you."

“Oh yeah? Even if I do this?”

She lunges forward and pulls you into a tight embrace, wetting your clothes and pouring water all over the floors, making sure you wouldn't wiggle your way out of her hold.

You give up and slump into her hold until she lets you go.

“You're lucky I do.”

“I know, and I love you too.” She says as she watches you stand up.

“I think we're done here.”

You let her get out and get dressed in privacy and wait in her bed, waiting for her to come join you under the covers. She finally comes out of the bathroom, plaid pj pants and wifebeater, with her hair tied up. She looked so fucking good so effortlessly.

She shuffles quickly towards the bed as you make grabby hands at her, letting her whole body weight flop on top of you.

“Oh, Ellie I love you but could- could you not crush me like this.”

A giant shit eating grin was plastered on her face as she gets off of you, letting you breathe, “What? You wanted me to come here.”

“Haha, very funny.”

She rolls her eyes and grabs onto your upper back and pulls you into her body, letting your head rest in the crook of her neck, legs intertwined. Her wet stray hairs tickled your face but you didn't care, you were happy if she was happy.

You could already feel yourself drifting off into sleep as her presence was so calming in the silence, “Did you set your alarm clock?”

“Hm, m’yea.” She answers you, barely awake.

It was all the reassurance you really needed as you drifted off into sleep.

It's 5:25AM, reading the time off of the clock beside you.

You're tossing and turning, now awake, desperately trying to fall back asleep, much too early to start getting ready.

At 5:47, you give in to being awake, finding it too hard to fall back asleep with how early you had both gone to sleep last evening.

Ellie is still peacefully sound asleep, the sun not having risen yet, creating a soft and calm atmosphere. You wish you could bottle up this feeling and open it on a rainy day, just to feel the type of bliss as you do right now all over again.

But instead, you have a better idea, ultimately to ruin it. "Ellie, wake up."

You lightly shake her shoulder trying to wake her, only to be met by upset grumbles as she turns to face away from you.

So, you take a different approach: affection.

Her grumbling quickly turns to soft hums as you're kissing her in the crook of her neck up to the side of her face, arms wrapped around her from behind.

She turned to look at you, a big smile on her face, "Well good morning to you too."

"Hm you're not gonna be so happy with me when you look at the time."

Her expression turns sour after she turns to look at her clock, "Why?", she exclaimed, flopping back down into bed.

"Because I want you to do something with me."

"Is it worth waking me up this early?"

"Yes, sneak out with me."

She raises an eyebrow out of curiosity, "To do what?"

You shrug, "You'll see."

Ellie sucks in her teeth before jumping up and out of bed, "Fine but it better be good."

She started getting ready so you did the same, trying to hurry to get to the thing you wanted. You took out your extra clothes from yesterday's bag, both getting ready separately and in silence until Ellie spoke again.

"Not even a hint?"

"Especially not a hint! Are you ready?"

"Yup, lead the way"

You open the door and navigate the two of you through the dark and empty streets, making sure not to make yourself visible in the street lights.

The two of you carefully make your way to the gate, slipping out of the smaller door on the side and quickly running out after closing it behind you, giggling at your small victory with Ellie keeping up the pace behind you.

The walk to your special spot was incredibly short, definitely shorter than you remember, you're just glad it was doable by foot.

Ellie seems to recognize it before you have a chance to give her a reveal speech, "Is this-"

"Yeah."

You both look out into the big open clearing, the snapdragon field, now covered in snow. It's flat and sparkling in the sun that just began to rise, the two of you enamoured with the sight. You wanted to bring her somewhere familiar, just to get away for a while, just for some peace only with her.

Until you felt a wad of soft snow hit you in the back.

Your mouth fell agape and you sucked in your breath dramatically, hand on your chest, "How could you!"

She only shrugs as a reply, not being able to hide her smug smirk.

"You're so dead!" You exclaimed, grabbing a handful of snow and throwing it at her, ultimately starting a snowball fight between the two of you.

Each of you get your fair share of hits on one another, your body full of snow all over, until it all came to a halting stop when Ellie ran up to you, toppling you both over into the field of snow.

You both laughed on the way down, but quieted down as you stared at each other, her on top of you. She looked perfect in the glow of the sunrise, brushing a stray hair behind her ear.

"You're perfect." She says, before closing the gap and kissing you. You smile into the kiss and grab her face to pull her in closer before she pulls away to keep looking at your face.

"We have to get back."

You pouted at her sense of responsibility, but obliged when you had no choice but to do so as she pulled you up after getting off of you.

Ellie held your hand the whole way, cooing at you in pity over your distaste for going back to work after your spontaneous moment of freedom. She made you stay put once you got back to the gates, making sure the coast was clear before dragging you inside by your wrist.

Back in the safety of home, you're both quickly trying to make it back to her garage, giggling at the fact that you just snuck out and didn't get caught.

Until you did get caught, by Maria no less.

As you both made your way through the stables, your makeshift boss was putting up the patrol schedule when he noticed you and Ellie sneaking around.

"What do you think you're doing?" She called out and you froze, unsure of what to say.

So, Ellie took the lead, "Just uh getting an early start."

She shook her head in disbelief at her bold lie, "Right then, just grab your horse and go, I assigned you both the neighbourhood again."

"Uh, thanks." She answered, lips pursed awkwardly as she slowly approached Shimmer's stall.

You're both walking quickly out of the stable, Ellie extending her hand to help you up after she jumped on, and leaving this awkward situation as quickly as possible.

On the route to the neighbourhood, you can't help but laugh as you think back over getting caught.

"What are you laughing about back there?"

"Sorry, you're such a dork."

Ellie frowns at your insult, clearly hurt that you find it so endearing, "Why?"

"Nothing, you're just awkward, it's cute."

She scoffs and looks back at the trail in front of her, spotting the houses slowly coming into view between the trees.

As routine goes, she gets off and ties Shimmer to a tree and tells you what house to clear. Only this time, she assigns you both the same house.

"You think I would let you go alone after all of this?"

"I mean- I dunno-"

"We're a team now, yeah?"

You nod your head in agreement, "Mhm."

The two of you enter the house, as she silently motions you to take care of the bathroom while she has your back behind you in the bedroom.

When you turn into the doorway, a clicker greets you closely, but youre quick on your feet and take it out before it alerts any of the other infected.

With the house now cleared, not knowing that the clicker you took care of was the only infected in the house, Ellie praises you, "Good job babe."

You feel yourself get hot and your cheeks turn darker with the pet name, suddenly getting flustered, "Oh, thanks. We, uh, make a pretty good team, like you said"

She smiles warmly at you, "Yeah, I guess we do."

tag list: @champagnelovers101 @luvagirl222 @florenceisacoolname @cherriesnwatermelons @sufloerfs @sawaagyapong @kayler-23 @ciaireredfleid @boosaye @kyootsies @intrnetdoll @zoddiachead @blairfox04 @roarriita @prrimordiais @addisonnie @sparkleswonderland @minustwofingers @muthafuckingstargirl @yookayyo @yangellc @viswifetotallyreal @elliesgff @eddiemunsonsgroupie @amydunne-apologist @thughisee-blog @sophlovesbooks @half-of-a-gay @tojis-little-brat @elliesflower @trilogyss

#ellie x reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x y/n #ellie x fem reader #tlou x reader #ellie tlou #everyone ignore that i forgot to tag for like at least 10 hours

138 notes · View notes

cowgurrrl · 9 months

Text

What Do We Do Now?

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

Author’s note: just something small I’ve been thinking about 😇

Summary: “Eventually soulmates meet, for they have the same hiding place.” - Robert Brault [1k]

Warnings: talks of the girls (Jane, Sarah, Tess), brief mention of baby daddy, seeing each other for maybe the first time ever (spoiler alert: they’re oblivious)

After you tell Joel about Jane, everything else seems relatively easy to tell him. You spend many frigid nights surrounded by mountains and trade stories back and forth like it's second nature. Sometimes, Ellie has long since been asleep by the time you start talking, and other times she's up and listening. She giggles along or asks questions when you bring up what the world was like before you even knew what cordyceps were.

One night, after Ellie's fast asleep, he brings up Tess. He tells you a story of when she tried to cook dinner and almost burned the apartment down. He laughs as he talks about the look on her face and the argument they had after. You can't stop a smile from spreading across your face. You stopped talking about her when she died. It was too painful for both of you. But now, nothing feels too scary.

"Did you love Tess?" You finally ask after years of wondering and attempting to read their unspoken tension. You thought something might've been going on until he started with you. They might've gotten into a fight or broken up momentarily, but he didn't say as much. You two never really did a whole lot of talking when you were together. Still, you two kept sneaking around even after the first night he showed up at your front door. You don't know if Tess knew. You wish she was here.

"'S a different kinda love, but yeah," he says, staring into the fire to avoid your eyes. "We never said it out loud, but she knew. In another world, we would've been really good to each other."

"Not this one?" You ask, and he shakes his head.

"We did our best," he says. "What about you? 'D you love Adam?" You don't miss how he shifts the focus so he doesn't have to keep answering your questions. You make a mental note to circle back around.

"Yeah. I don't know how good I was at it, though. I was… mean and pushy, but he was so kind. Just annoyingly calm and patient."

"In another world, you guys are married?"

"No," you laugh. "No, in another world, Adam is married to… a kindergarten teacher. They meet at school, and she's sickly sweet and perfect for him. She lets him buy her dinner, and the only thing they argue about is how to load the dishwasher. And they've got three kids, and he's just the best dad." It's not a new or spontaneous thought. You've often wondered how Adam's life would've been different if you two had never met. Maybe he'd still be alive and teaching in the QZ school. He'd probably find someone who would let him take care of her. Someone who wouldn't sneak outside the walls or take hit jobs to pay the bills. Someone he knew would say yes if he asked her to marry him.

"And you? What are you doing in this other world?" He asks, and you shrug.

"I'm a single mom with too much debt and not enough money to pay it off. I work too much, and I'm always exhausted, and I still send the yearly emails to her dad trying to get him to respond, but I never get anything, and… my kid is alive."

"Sounds pretty good." Joel finally whispers, and you nod.

"The best," you agree. "What about you? What are you doing in another world?"

"In another world, I take over my dad's contracting company. Tommy and I work on houses all throughout Austin, and I hire somebody to keep the office afloat so I can be home for dinner. I'm tired, but Sarah convinces me to stay up for a movie, so we end up throwin' on some old slasher film. And I spend the rest of my life making things easier for her." He says. This is the most he's ever talked about his life from before with you. You wonder how many pieces of him you still don't know about.

"You think we'd meet in this different world?" You ask, and he meets your eyes. Something passes between you. If someone asked you to explain it, you wouldn't be able to find the words, but you know your heart lifts for just a moment as he stares at you.

"I think meetin' you is one of the only good things about this world," he says with more sincerity than you've ever heard grace his voice. It throws you off-kilter. You don't know what to say or how to respond, but he beats you to it by pulling the rifle over his lap. "Get some sleep. I'll wake you up for second watch." You nod and shuffle into your sleeping bag with racing thoughts and no way to stop them.

When Ellie asks a few days later where Joel would go if he could go and do anything he wanted, he lies like any good parent does. He says something about a ranch and sheep. You're able to envision it for just a second when Ellie turns to you with the same question. You lie, too. "I'd own a dog shelter." You say, making Ellie giggle. She spins her own tale of living on the moon, and Joel meets your eyes with a gentle understanding. You'd never tell Ellie, but if you could go and do anything you wanted, you be raising your kid, and you'd want for nothing else.

Dog shelters and sheep ranches be damned.

#look for the light #joel miller x female reader #soft joel miller #joel miller fluff #joel miller x reader #joel miller the last of us #joel miller fic #joel miller series #the last of us series #the last of us fluff #the last of us x reader #the last of us fic

112 notes · View notes

ohraicodoll · 1 year

Note

how does red act when shes sick or hurt, i feel like being physically vulrenable is very hard for her.

When she's hurt she's very quick to get it taken care of. She knows the faster it gets fixed, the less of a liability she is to everyone else. The healing is something she's less happy with and usually it's a long process if only because she constantly pops stitches or overworks herself. When Red is sick, well, she reacts like most wild animals. She withdrawals to keep anyone else from getting it, but keeps working and keeps pushing herself, angry at her own body for not keeping up. She doesn't let herself go on patrols because she knows that it can put others at risk. She's just generally around less. No one even knows she's sick until she's at least 3 shades paler or looks like she may pass out. It's not until she stumbles in the kitchen, almost dropping a cup that Joel notices and can see she's sweating and her eyes are a little wild. It takes literally dragging her upstairs to the bedroom and threatening to tie her down to get her to rest, already angry at her for hiding that she wasn't feeling well. She argues that when you're out beyond the walls, you don't get to slow down and rest. You don't get to stop and do nothing. And Joel understands, but he's frustrated trying to get through to her that they aren't beyond the walls anymore. When Ellie tries to enter the room, she's quick to yell at her to stay away so she doesn't spread it to her (and then yells an apology through the door). She doesn't want Joel there either but he's used to her yelling at him and ignores her. It's all bark, no bite. He brings her soup and she eyes it suspiciously because it looks too well made until Joel relents and says no, he didn't make it and he got it from the food hall. She refuses to allow one of the town doctors to look at her, but agrees to at least take medicine. The only allowance she lets herself is at night when Joel is next to her (despite her many protests that she can stay in the downstairs room). She curls up tight in a ball, arms around her knees, and he wraps his body fully around her, holding her, and she lets him protect her from everything.

#anon asks #asks #series: feral #joel miller x feral reader #feral reader #tlou #the last of us #Raicodoll writes

87 notes · View notes

panyvivienda · 1 year

Text

¹ Just for the night

summary: looking for a safe place to spend the night, joel and ellie come across a girl singing a david bowie song at the top of her lungs while picking carrots.

a/n: sorry if there are any mistakes, english it's not my first language. part 2??or not??maybe?? feel like it could have been better 😪

Fatigue ran through every bone in their bodies, making it increasingly difficult to stand upright. Joel seemed to hide it better than Ellie, who every two minutes stopped in her place and said to him that she could not longer feel her legs.

"Just a couple more steps, I promise" he replied, knowing that they still had a long way to go. A few hours earlier they had encountered some hunters. Fortunately for them, they didn't seem to have noticed their presences.

"Well, that doesn't sound so convincing you know" she complained, throwing her head back with a grunt, gaining a sigh from him- You are being way to skeptical Joel, we are gonna be fine- she said looking at him this time, waiting for a "You're so right Ellie, how didn't I listened to you before, let's get some sleep" to fly of his mouth. Not a very Joel thing to say, but something among those words.

"You can ever be to sure" he shortly responded. Ellie opted to say no more, dragging her feet reluctantly behind him, following the road and occasionally glancing at the woods to her right. The moon being the only source of light in the cold starry night. Clearly they were not going to stop until he believed it was a safe place to settle.

The silence did not last long. From the woods they began to hear shouting, which at first scared them. It was someone singing. Joel told Ellie to stay close to him, slowly moving deeper into the woods. They were a little curious as to who was singing at this time of night like crazy. Maybe it was someone deranged who had completely lost their mind. They didn't know, but they did know that they would have to take care of it if they wanted to sleep peacefully and not with one eye open in case this person ended up finding them in the middle of the night.

The surprise they got when they found the person in charge, a girl picking carrots from an orchard, was a rare surprise. They shared an incredulous look, their eyes unable to believe what they were seeing. The girl went on about her business without noticing the two pairs of expectant eyes, singing with an immeasurable passion and stopping to complain about a carrot that didn't want to come out.

"She seems harmeless Joel, look at her" she told him pointing at her with her finger.

"Looks like she has a screw loose to me. Come on".

"That's such an old man thing to say".

Ignoring what he had said earlier, Ellie raised her arms and shouted "Hey you, girl with the weird beanie! Do you think you could give us a hand for tonight?". Flinching at the suddent voice, Amanda raised her head cursing at herself for being so careless. She slowly stand up with two carrots in each of her hands, shaking her head. "No!" she yelled with nervousness, making Ellie frown.

"Come on men, we are tired! Do you have any idea of how much we have been walk- "

"Okay, that's enough" grabbing her by her arm, Joel yanked her to the woods, having to stop due to the girl resisting "She doesn't want to help us Ellie, she doesn't have too either".

"Kinda has to now" she contradicted him "She was the one singing loudly that brought us here, besides look at that big ass house she got there! You're gonna tell me she ain't got space for us two?" she said the last thing more directed to Amanda "It's pretty late we just want to sleep, we ain't bad guys".

Amanda couldn't help but feel slightly guilty. The man wasn't wrong, she didn't have to help them, but because of her not keeping her stupid mouth shout she end up putting herself in this situation, so now she had to deal with it. What if she didn't help them and they end up dying? She couldn't do that. But what if they weren't good people? What if they killed her? Hell, she didn't fucking know them! And she really wanted to sleep with a clear conscience.

Frustration started to build up, and before Joel could even say something, she yelled "Fine! But if you two try something I... I" she failed to threaten, feeling dumb for trying to sound intimidating with a pointing carrot at their direction "Just don't try anything, I'm trying to do something nice, so don't make me regreat it" dropping the carrots to the floor, Amanda started walking to the door fence "Over here".

Ellie looked at Joel with a triumphant smile. Without much effort she had managed to persuade the yet girl of unknown name, getting them a roof over their heads for tonight . Following the girl’s instructions, they went through the fence, now facing each other.

"Hi, I'm Amanda" she presented herself, feeling uncomfortable with their eyes buried in her.

"I'm Ellie" the redhead continued, expecting the man besider her to tell his, but he seem hesitant, causing her to roll her eyes "And he's Joel. Not a very talkative guy".

"Great, Ellie, Joel, would you like to come inside and have dinner? I was about to make it but I forgot the carrots and um you know this happend" she explained while moving her hands.

Ellie laughed, adding to the conversation "Yeah we know, what was it that you were singing?" at the question, Amanda couldn't help but feel quite embarrassed, they just had to be there at that precise moment? She was going to answer her, but Joel beat her to it.

"Space Oddity by David Bowie".

"Exactly".

"And that was?"

"Are you for real? He was a fucking icon! The best of the best! At least that's what my dad used to tell me all the time" as they spoke, they began to walk, heading to Amanda's house, the older one following them from behind. Joel's eyes darted everywhere, fearing that someone would jump out and attack them, although Amanda seemed nice, or maybe she was good at pretending "He didn't follow what at the time society expected from people, he challenged everything and cared little about what others may say. Everything he touched, he turned it into art. My dad got to see him performance, and he told me that his mere presence on stage was simply indescribable" Ellie listened attentively to every word that came out of her mouth, finding what she said interesting and wanting to learn more. She decided to not make questions about her dad. She imagined what she could say to her if she were to ask.

"That must have been fucking awesome! I wish I had the opportunity to hear artists performance in live" Ellie exclaimed content, turning to her left "Ever went to a concert Joel?".

"That was more of a Tommy thing to do" said sincerely, waiting for Amanda to open the door "Is there more people with you?"

"I've been on my own for a while now".

"Oh" that's all Ellie said to her, feeling stupid afterwards. Amanda gave her a small grin.

Before they entered, Amanda asked them kindly if they could take off their shoes "I got a serious problem with keeping things clean, sorry" she apologized, moving to a side to turn the lights, surprising the other two.

"You have electricity? How is that possible?" Amanda smiled at Joel’s questions.

"A little further back from home there’s plenty of wind towers. It's a pretty unpopulated place because of that, it has always been" she replied, crossing her arms behind her back, swinging back and forth.

"And how do you keep it working?" asked Ellie this time.

"I got not idea, it just does. My dad was the one in charge of that. Never explained it further because he said I didn't need to understand. In some point it's gonna stop working, I guess" she said, getting lost in thought, which didn’t go unnoticed by Joel "Anyways, I have to finish cooking dinner, meanwhile you guys could take a shower" seeming to have realized the double connotation of her sentence, she quickly said "Not because I think you guys smell, it's just because, I mean.. there's hot water!"

Ellie failed to contain her laugh, letting some chuckles escape, while Joel couldn't hide his smile.

"We know we smell, believe me. I'm gonna shower first. I haven't showered with hot water in like, forever!" following Amanda's directions and accepting a borrowed towel and clothes, Ellie went into the bathroom, leaving her and Joel on their own.

"I do not want to overstep, but" Amanda interrumped him before he could even finish.

"He died a few months ago, I think it's been five months by now, but I'm not really sure" she knew she was relying way too much on these two, but she decided to trust her senses, that until now, with her few years of life, had never failed her" Joel felt sorry for her, and Amanda hated it "I got so lost talking about David Bowie that I totally forgot to grab the carrots, would you mind boiling the water? I already put the water in the pot. The lighter is on top of the microwave".

"Alright".

"Great, we are eating some smashed potatoes and carrots tonight ".

After doing what he was told to, Joel took the time to appreciate every detail that adorned the house.All of the furniture was made of wood, mostly with antique lamps above them. Large pinturesque paintings hung on some walls, every one of them belonging to a same style. They shared the same signature "Fiona Wesley". There were also dried flowers upside down on some of the tiles in the kitchen, but what caught his total attention were the pictures on the fridge. He couldn't help but let thoughts of Sarah flood on his mind.

---

"God, it's been so long since I've had a proper meal" commented Ellie, happy with Amanda's cooking "You are so good. You don't know what it's like to have to eat Joel's cooking, he burns everything!" Joel gave her a dirty look, feeling offended.

"Thank you very much, it's not a such a big deal honestly".

"She's right, it's pretty good".

"Well... thanks" not used to receiving compliments, Amanda did what she does best, change the subject. "So...if you don't mind me asking, where were you heading to?."

Ellie looked at Joel to see if it was okay to be honest with her. He nodded.

"We are looking for Joel's brother, Tommy. We think he's in Wyoming."

"Shit, that's a long way from here, more if it's by foot. You're going to need plenty of food and coats, I should give you some."

"You helped us enough, it's not necessary" Joel denied, feeling that he was abusing her kindness.

"Don't worry Joel, it doesn't bother me. It would actually make me feel better if you took something for the trip. It's hard to get food with the weather like this, you rarely spot animals to hunt. It would be nice if you carried a couple of rations. Take it as what you guys owe me for letting you spend the night here"- she told him smiling, hoping he wouldn't deny her offer. "So, don't you want me to make up your beds? For what you guys have told me, you got a long way from here to Wyoming".

"Alright, but then let us raise the table in the meantime" Joel offered in vain, since Amanda wouldn't let them do anything.

"I will do it later, not big deal. Come with me guys, I'll show you your room" Joel and Ellie shared a glance, and then followed in the footsteps of the black haired girl.

---

"It was released on 11 of july in of 1969, five days before Apollo 11 set off to compleat his mission and land the first man on the moon, isn't that cool?".

"That's actually so fucking cool. Where did you learn that from?".

Once they got to the guest room, Amanda and Ellie couldn't seem to stop bringing up topics. They got along well, being able to talk easily with each other. Joel was already lying down, finding it harder and harder to keep his eyes open. He listened carefully to what the girls were saying. He didn't want to interrupt them, no matter how sleepy he was. Both Ellie and Amanda needed it. Especially the last one, who looked like she hadn't spoken to someone in a long time. Tomorrow they would be going their separate ways, so he thought that he should at least let them enjoy each other's presence while they could.

"I read a book called 'Artists you should know before you die'. I found it in the shelf over Joel's head, it's the one over there" she pointed, moving closer to Ellie, making her nervous "It has some interesting facts, this one was there".

"Do you know who Sally Ride is?" Ellie couldn't resist but asker her, wanting to talk about her. Sally ride was one of her biggest idols, and the idea that maybe Amanda and her shared the same admiration towards her, was exciting for her.

"Hello? How could I not? She was the first American female austronaut to go into space!".

"Finally somebody that knows what I'm talking ab-" snoring echoed off the four walls of the room, loud snoring. The girls laughed, turning to look.

"Well, it looks like we talked too much and bored Joel" whispered Amanda, slowly getting up. It felt good to have someone her own age to talk to. Ellie felt the same way, disappointed that she had to leave by the morning. She wished she could stay for a few more days with her and get to know her even better, but she had to make it to the fireflies if she didn't want all the losses to be in vain.

"Yes, we bored him quite a bit" she answered quietly, looking at his sleeping figure "He has been sleeping less than he should, he refuses to let his guard down."

"I understand" looking up from her feet, the black haired girl said with a sigh "You should rest too".

"Yeah I probably should".

"Goodnight Ellie."

"Goodnight."

#elliewilliamsxreader #joel miller x reader #thelastofusxreader #the last of us x oc #tlou x reader #ellie williams fluff #joel miller fluff

56 notes · View notes