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creedslove · 4 months

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THE MILLER CHRISTMAS 🎄 🎁

Post outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: a Christmas miracle is really possible for Joel?

Warnings: fluff and angst, boy dad!Joel, Sammy is back ❤️

A/N: Merry Christmas besties 🎄🎁

O.7k words

“Why are you still up, buddy?” Joel rubbed his tired eyes and walked to his son, who was on knees on the couch, so he would be tall enough to keep his little face glued to the window, watching the white snowflakes falling quietly outside. Sammy barely turned his head towards his daddy as he didn't want to miss one single little thing from outside.

“I'm waiting” the toddler's voice wasn't much more than just a whisper, as if he would scare away whoever or whatever he seemed to eagerly wait. Joel shook his head and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, sitting next to his son's small frame, his curls were messy from tossing and turning in bed, - as he'd been way too excited to fall asleep on Christmas eve, of course - and Joel chuckled to himself, thinking that you were right and it was about Sammy got a haircut.

“Are you waiting for Santa? You know he only arrives after everyone is asleep, he drinks his milk, eats his cookies, leaves the presents and goes to visit other kids…” his rough calloused hands stroked his son's hair gently, as he couldn't still quite believe that even after what happened, after the world was destroyed, after all the shit he'd done and the blood he'd shed, he was able to still have something good, to have found love in you, to have had a son in his life and to be able to safely celebrate Christmas reunited with his brother.

“No daddy, I'm waiting for the Christmas angel” Sammy shrugged and turned his attention back to the window, wanting to have another glimpse of the curious Christmas creature, at the same time Joel frowned. A Christmas angel? What the fuck was that? He had never heard of that story, he was pretty sure you had never mentioned that either and Ellie was more of a Christmas monster kind of girl, than an angel. He was confused, where could his son have possibly heard that? Maybe they told kids that in Jackson's daycare, but if that was the case, then Sammy would've said something before, wouldn't he?

“What angel is that?”

“It's a girl angel daddy… she's very pretty and she was here playing with me… then she said she had to go away but she is all the time watching us and taking care of us” he explained with a sweet smile. Joel was now suspicious, not sure if he should be worried, but maybe some girl had broken into the house to play with Sammy? What for? It didn't make the slightest sense.

“What?!”

Sammy took a deep breath, his daddy was usually very fast and smart but he didn't understand why he was so confused that night, maybe the angel had made him sleep too much.

“It's the angel daddy…” he began explaining “she is pretty and she says she always looks after our family, after me, mommy, Ellie and mostly you”

“What's this angel like?”

“She has brown curly hair and brown eyes, daddy like you and me… oh, and she said her name was Sarah!” He grinned at the exact same moment Joel's breath got stuck on his throat. He completely lost action for a while, simply looking at his son with disbelief and shock. How could Sammy make up a story like that? No, he wouldn't do that, he was a sweet kid, he would never simply make up a story out of Joel's most painful memory. Besides, he was sure he didn't know anything about his big sister Sarah, not even you knew the whole story, there was no way someone would've told him that. When he came back to his senses, he found Sammy watching him with a sweet smile. He had wrapped his small arms around his daddy's larger one and snuggled.

“The angel said you wouldn't believe it, daddy, so she asked me to give you this” he opened his tiny hand and revealed the smallest butterfly paper cutting. Purple and blue, his first little girl's favorite colors. Joel swallowed hard, tears flooding his eyes as he desperately tried to keep them in place and prevent them from falling and running down his face. It looked exactly like the paper butterflies Sarah always left scattered around her room before the outbreak. Sammy got on his feet and pecked his daddy's cheek gently

“Merry Christmas, daddy” he said cutely, before getting off the couch and returning to his room.

Joel stood there, trying to let all that information sink. He couldn't believe what was happening and even if he tried finding a logical explanation, he couldn't. Perhaps, it was just a Christmas miracle after all.

____

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yeollie-plz · 4 months

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A Very Miller Christmas

A post for @joelscurls for the PedroStories Secret Santa event!!

Preoutbreak! Joel Miller x F! Reader (ft. platonic Sarah Miller)

Synopsis: Joel doesn't love Christmas, but since you moved in you've been determined to change that.

Genre: fluff, so fluffy you could die

Warnings: mentions of Christmas, kissing, pet names,

Gif credits to owners!

December 1st:

As you made your way very unceremoniously through the front door, you dropped a few ornaments out of the open box in your hands. The sound of them crashing to the floor drew the attention of your boyfriend.

He walked into the living room only to be met with the sight of you almost entirely Christmas-ified. Tinsel hung around your neck. A branch of mistletoe was stuck in your hair. Two boxes were in your hands, stuffed with Christmas decorations. The boxes were stacked high covering your face and your view. Which became evident to Joel, who as you almost fell, ran up to catch you and the boxes.

"What are you doing?" He asked with a slight laugh as he grabbed the boxes from your hands and set them down.

"Decorating." You said simply as you brushed away a random strand of hair that had fallen in your face.

"Decorating?" Joel's brow quirked in question. Now reaching for the branch of mistletoe in your hair, holding it up for you to see.

Your eyes focused on it, "For Christmas, obviously! And you just found some Mistletoe." You kissed him quick before getting to work decorating the house.

December 5th:

For days you had been begging Joel to hang up the string lights for you and for days he had denied. As you followed him through the house, he wouldn't even look at you.

"Please! Please! Please!" You said into his back. He was looking for his jacket that he had of course put down in a different place than usual, now losing it.

"Baby, how many times do I have to tell you, we don't need lights." Sighing, as his jacket was not on any of the dining room chairs.

"And how many times do I have to tell you, we do." Placing your hand on the back of one of the chairs and leaning on it, you tried to catch his attention by blocking his view.

He ignored you and continued to move through the house, "You already decorated the inside. Why do we need to do the inside too?"

You sighed, tapping your foot behind him as he moved the couch cushions, still searching. You put your hand on your hip, trying to show your annoyance. He finally turned to meet your eyes, matching your pose to show his own.

Not amused, your face stoned, "Please, for me. I just want the house to look festive. Come on, Sarah will love it!" Now on the verge of whining, he finally gave you a face of defeat.

"Fine, but if I fall off the ladder, you're paying the medical bills." He starts to move towards the door, grabbing your box of string lights as he opens the door.

Glancing at the arm chair, you notice his jacket blending into the fabric. Picking it up quickly, you race after him. You stop Joel before he fully makes his way outside.

You hand him his jacket and lean up to peck his lips. He looks at you with a mixture of soft, yet annoyed eyes. He tips his head towards the box of decorations, before turning to do his duty.

"Thank you!" You call after him, only receiving a brush off, making you giggle.

December 11th:

Christmas music drifted through the house from the radio in the kitchen. As Joel followed it, and the smell of cookies, he found you swaying your hips to the music, while mixing a bowl of cookie dough. Sarah happily stood next to you, singing the lyrics a bit off key.

He watched you from the entryway for a minute, leaning against the doorframe. Smiling at how happy you looked while humming to the festive songs. Pushing off of the doorframe, he made his way quietly behind you. Joel snaked his arms around your waist and rested his head on your shoulder. The sudden touch made you jump slightly, but once you smelled the all too familiar scent of your boyfriend, you instantly relaxed.

Joel used your hips to turn you around, causing you to drop the whisk. You lose your balance a bit, so to regain it you string your arms around his neck. He places a chaste kiss to your lips, before swaying his hips in time with the music. Using his hands on yours to urge you to do that same.

You are giggling while Joel parades you through the kitchen. Sarah laughing at the two of you dancing. He glances over at his daughter and as the two of you pass her, sweeps her up into the swaying as well.

The house is now filled with laughter.

December 19th:

Today when Joel gets home, he isn't greeted with any music. He isn't greeted with anything actually. A bit confused, but he realizes why when he sees both you and Sarah sound asleep on the couch.

A mixture of Christmas movies are laid out on the coffee table, as well as, a variety of treats. Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer is playing on the television, while the two of you dream away.

Shaking his head, neither of you could ever make it through a movie, especially not a marathon. He grabs the blanket from the chair and covers you and Sarah with it. Making sure you are both nice and tucked in.

December 24th:

You had invited Tommy over for a Miller family Christmas Eve. Dinner, hot chocolate, some alcohol for the adults, and maybe an early present.

Sarah was running around the house, yelling Christmas carols, stringing tinsel around behind her like it was a cape. You were putting the final touches on dinner. While Joel and Tommy sat in the living room discussing work. Even on the holidays they were workaholics.

You didn't hear Joel come into the kitchen, until he sat a fresh glass of scotch onto the counter next to you. Smiling gratefully at him, you took a sip.

"Thank you, I needed this." You said.

"I know." He pecks your forehead, before beginning to set the table for you.

"I was gonna have Sarah do that." You mused at him.

"Eh, let her have fun. I am also capable of helping, you know?" It was more of a joke than a real question, so you just shook your head at him and continued what you were doing.

You all sat down to dinner, everyone complimenting you on the meal. You had gone all out and were a bit proud of yourself. Looking over a Joel, you saw him looking down at his plate, gleaming with pride. This brought a smile to your own face.

Later on, after dinner, everyone had retreated to the living room for a movie. You thought it was going to be an easy decision but of course with three stubborn, big-headed Millers it was a debate and a half. But finally you are settled on Frosty the Snowman. Much to Sarah's excitement and the boy's disappointment.

Sarah, of course, fell asleep during the movie, the excitement of the night catching up with her. As Joel went to lift her to carry her to her bed, she stirred awake. In her half-asleep state, she managed to remember that Joel promised that she could open on present tonight.

You handed her one of the medium sized ones and she ripped it open excitedly. The excitement didn't fade when she saw what we inside, a pair of nice and warm fleece pajamas. She stroked them thoughtfully, obviously loving their soft texture.

"For you to wear tonight." You explained, gesturing to the bundle of fabric in her hands.

Her eyes went wide, as she quickly rushed off to try them on. Coming back out a little over a minute later, sporting her new jammies. She strutted into the living room, imitating a high fashion model. Gaining laughs from all of the adults.

"Alright, babygirl, off to bed now." Joel said, pushing her lightly towards the stairs. Following her up to tuck her in. You smiled watching the two loves of your life. Tommy just chuckled at the look on your face, to which you shoved him.

December 25th:

Sarah woke up bright and early, rushing into yours and Joel's room. The sound of the door hitting the wall woke you up, but Joel didn't even react. So you sat back and watched as the girl jumped onto your bed trying to wake up her father. He groaned at her as it finally began to work.

"So early, baby..." He complained at her.

"But its Christmassssssss." She drew out her words to show her dad how important it all was.

"Fine...lets go." Joel gave in, pushing himself up off the bed with another groan.

"Ask mom to make some coffee for you old man!" Sarah yelled to Joel as she was already halfway to the Christmas tree. Your head snapped to Joel, he was already looking at you.

"Did she just?" You questioned.

"She called you mom." He said at the same time.

"She called me mom." Tears grew in the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill over.

"Hey, hey no tears on Christmas." He said with a bit of a laugh, wiping away the one tear that actually fell. You nodded.

He smiled softly at you, before grabbing your hand. Pulling you down the stairs to follow after his daughter.

After Sarah ripped open all of her presents, and began to play with some of them, Joel looked over at you.

"Aren't you gonna open up yours?" Joel gestures to the empty tree skirt.

"Mine?" He nods and points to the tree. Eyebrows furrowing, you decide to amuse his little game and go over to the tree. Looking under it, you don't see anything, until you do.

A small box, sits under the tree, wrapped terribly. You giggle at his poor wrapping job, but not loud enough for him to hear. Grabbing it, you go back over to the couch. He watches you intently.

You slowly unwrap the box. You realize quickly that its a jewelry box, you also realize quickly that there was only a few jewelry items that could fit in this size box...

And as you lift the box open, you guess is proved true when a shiny silver ring sits there. Tears form in your eyes again.

"Joel..." You whisper out in shock.

"Will you marry-y" He words are cut off by you throwing your arms around him and knocking the breath out of him.

"Yes, yes, yes, a thousand times yes." As you say this, you place about a billion kisses onto his smiling face.

"I love you." He says when you finally stop kissing him.

"I love you too." You say, leaning your forehead on his, your eyes closed.

"And you are both gross." Sarah says from the floor, watching the two of you.

"Hey!" You exclaim, throwing a rolled up ball of wrapping paper across the room at her.

This was a very Miller Christmas, a very perfect Christmas.

A/N: Merry Christmas everyone! And a very special Merry Christmas and happy holidays to @joelscurls my amazing giftee! I was so excited to write this for you and I hope you enjoy and have the best holiday season! ❤️ A special thank you to @pedrostories for putting this lovely event together and bringing all of us Pedro writers together for the holidays! Happy holidays to all the admins of pedrostories! ❤️❤️

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joels6string · 1 year

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Mistlewoes

Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: No Cordyceps AU; Despite his best attempts at weaseling out of it, you drag a not-so-merry Joel to finish off the last of your Christmas shopping.

Rating: E

Word Count: 3.2k

Content: established relationship, Joel hates Christmas songs and isn't afraid to make it known, cornered beneath the mistletoe, smut to reward him for his troubles [lingerie, face-sitting, oral f-receiving, unprotected p-in-v, creampie]

December in Texas brought temperatures just cold enough to warrant a sweater. Even after eight years of living in the Longhorn state, you still hadn’t lost the longing for the chill of winter air around the holidays the north had offered. But Texas had offered something even better.

Footsteps thumped on the roof of your covered porch right outside your bedroom window, the sight of long, denim-clad legs visible every so often through the gauzy curtains, a flash of skin catching your eye when the hem of his flannel rode up as he reached up over his head. Ten years ago, you’d come down to Austin for a work conference and left with the phone number of a carpenter you’d met at the bar. Two years after that, you were moving into his house with his teenage daughter, Sarah, thousands of miles from home, and a year after that you became Mrs. Joel Miller in a ceremony under your favorite old gazebo in the park.

Three light raps on the glass caught your attention as you brushed gloss over your lips, the silver that had begun streaking through his hair over the last few years glittering in the sun as he crouched down with a grin on his face.

“You gonna come out and look?” he asked, despite the arrangement of rainbow lights along the windows and beams being exactly what it was every year, “S’all done.”

“It’s daytime!” you giggled, opening the window back up to allow him to climb back through, “Can’t see anything.”

“You’ll get the gist.”

It was as if he could hear your retort before it left your lips, pressing a gentle kiss to silence it before it could escape before you resigned with a sigh, opting to look at the green wires wrapped around the yellow house he’d spent years renovating to perfection.

“Did somethin’ a little different this year,” he crooned as he stood beside you in the driveway, “Figured I’d give Jimmy a run for his money.”

With your nose wrinkled in concentration in that way that made the corner of his lips tick up into a crooked smirk, you inspected the tangles of wires looking for a change, his low, affectionate chuckle sending familiar heat rushing to your cheeks.

“You’ll catch it tonight,” he reassured as he rounded and blocked your view with his broad chest, “Where you headed? Or did you get all dolled up just for me?”

“Christmas shopping,” you answered sweetly, eying him warily.

Thick fingers pulled his worn leather billfold out of his back pocket, cueing your own opportunity to allow a mischievous smile to settle onto your features.

“I got fifty in cash and…” the little blue card he kept under lock and key was folded between the crisp bill, “Don’t go too crazy, now. Just…get what we need.”

“Why are you giving this to me?” you asked, accepting his offering despite your question, “You’re coming.”

“I beg your pardon?”

His beard was soft against your palm as you cupped his jaw, “You said you’d come.”

Watching the realization of last night’s promise dawn on his face had you laughing again, his eyes going from denial to thought and ending on dreaded acceptance. A heavy sigh had his shoulders dropping, your thumb’s soothing path along his cheekbone warming his slightly chilled skin.

“I wasn’t in my right mind,” he defended, and he wasn’t entirely wrong. He’d been at your mercy, your lazy kisses to his softening cock as he lay panting above you in a post-orgasm haze had him ready to agree to anything. “I should get a pass.”

“I think that’s when you’re at your clearest, actually.”

A surrendering scoff was your cue to victory, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip in delight as he went to grab the keys to his truck and lock the house, his gratuitous swat to your bottom as he walked past to get into the driver’s seat enough proof whatever grumpy face he was about to put on was at least donned willingly.

“Where to first, light of my life?” he drawled sarcastically, his head rolling against the headrest as the truck rumbled to life.

“Coffee,” you chirped, snatching the cable leading to his outdated stereo and plugging it into your phone, your favorite Christmas playlist ringing in the cabin along with his groan born of pure dread.

“Do we have to?”

“It’s time to get in the spirit, Scrooge McMiller, Sarah will be home in a few days. She’s worse than me.”

The world blurred past the windows as you sang quietly along with the carols, Joel’s wide palm resting comfortably over your thigh, thumb brushing lightly as you allowed him to hum along with the melodies without meddling. You knew he swore you couldn’t hear him, but that low timbre was a sound you could find in the loudest crowd.

When you hopped out at the coffee shop he opted to wait in the truck, “keep it warm” he claimed, with a request for his usual. His usual was black coffee with a splash of half-and-half and two sugars, and he never wavered no matter how much you nagged him to at least try some flavor. “I’m a simple man, darlin’,” he’d always say with a quick peck to whatever part of you was accessible, sometimes it was the back of your hand when your fingers were threads through his in the middle seat of the truck, or your forehead if you were on your way out the door, but sometimes he took his time, dragging his nose across your cheek before his lips were pressing to the sharp curve of your jaw so softly it sent a shiver down your spine. Just the thought of it had you twitching as you approached the counter and put your order in. Even after all these years he still made your stomach flip.

As you made your way back to the car the sight of him on his phone, notepad on his dash with his pencil scribbling furiously siphoned off a little of your joy, the slam of the door as you slid back in slightly overdone as he hurried off the call at your return.

“No work on Sunday,” you huffed, earning an apologetic look.

“I’m sorry, darlin’. It’s goin’ away.” Then he caught sight of your coffee. “What the hell is that?”

“It’s coffee.”

“That ain’t coffee.”

It was a little overembellished, but to you, that’s what the holidays were for–a little indulgence. A mountain of red and green sprinkle-covered whipped cream sat atop your red cup, the smell of the sweetener wafting out with the steam as your tongue lapped out in a way that had his head ticking ever-so-slightly.

“It’s a sugar cookie almond milk latte,” you continued, swiping your finger through the topping and bringing it towards his slightly parted lips, the way he immediately took it into his mouth to lick it clean making you consider a quick pitstop back at home before continuing on.

“Like I said,” he cooed, “it ain’t coffee. Where to next?”

“The mall.”

“And here lies Joel Miller,” he began murmuring under his breath as his foot hit the gas, “Died December 18th, 2022 after being dragged–”

Your squeal of delight had his griping cut short as the familiar voice of Mariah Carey came over the speakers, “All I Want For Christmas is You”’s chiming bells being made slightly louder as you spun the volume way as his nostrils flared. You sang along, louder than you had the previous tunes, your little shimmies along with the melody catching his eye every so often as he took in the show, landing a few quips of his own through the ridiculous lyrics.

Oh, I won't ask for much this Christmas

I won't even wish for snow (and I) “That’s good, it don’t snow here.”

I'm just gonna keep on waiting underneath the mistletoe “Hopefully not for me, you’ll be there awhile.”

I won't make a list and send it to the North Pole for Saint Nick “Aren’t you on the naughty list this year?”

I won't even stay awake to hear those magic reindeer click “Well you never make it past ten anyway.”

'Cause I just want you here tonight

Holding on to me so tight

What more can I do? “I got a few ideas.”

Oh, baby, all I want for Christmas is you

You, baby “Cheaper for me.”

Singing had never been one of your strongest suits, but the laughter that was pouring free at his commentary was making it even worse. A snort slipped out at one point, your lungs burning as you tried to hit the high notes all while keeping your composure. You were failing miserably.

I just wanna see my baby standing right outside my door “That’s where I’m gonna be if you keep singin’.”

When that final high note was revving up, he gave you a warning glare, your smile stretching as you took in a deep breath. “Don’t…” he cautioned, holding his pointer finger up as if would help, and when it didn’t and your high-pitched squeal reverberated off the glass his face twisted in pain, “You break it, you buy it!”

You were still laughing as he pulled into the mall’s parking lot, a kiss still being requested as he dropped you off at the doors before heading off to search for parking despite the concert you’d subjected him to on the ride over. While waiting for him to catch up, you perused the windows of the shops around you, your coffee still warm in your hand as took in the twinkling lights and garlands, holiday music playing over the speakers as kids ran off from their parents to find Santa and friends squealed over their favorite finds of the day.

“Alright, let’s get this over with,” a familiar voice grunted from behind you as an arm slung around your shoulders and pulled you into a sturdy torso, the familiar scent of sawdust and pine tree washing over you.

Joel followed along dutifully, passing over his credit card at each store, carrying your bags, and glaring at anyone who took too much of an eyeful as you passed them. The last on the list was Sarah, who had sent a small list of things she needed but nothing she wanted, which had set you on a mission to find her a fun little something to open on Christmas morning. Joel wasn’t helpful, being all practical himself and not seeing a reason to get her anything beyond the stuff she needed, but you were hellbent and he went along.

The crowds had begun to grow, making maneuvering through them that much harder. After snatching the last box of headphones from the Apple Store and hoping that was good enough for Sarah’s surprise, you grabbed Joel’s hand and dragged him through the center of the mall that had been transformed into a winter wonderland. It was mostly to avoid the mob gathering at an intersection of aisles, but the fake bubble snow drifting down from a machine and the glittering decor had captured your attention enough to miss the archway ahead.

“Ope!” a man dressed as an elf sounded as he leapt out in front of you, causing you to jump back into Joel’s sturdy chest, “Not so fast you two, there’s a fee to pass through these parts!”

“What?” Joel sighed from behind you, his voice conveying his sheer annoyance.

With a mischievous laugh and a point toward the ceiling, you saw the little green bushel hanging from the top of the arch. Mistletoe. Joel’s willingness to participate in PDA in crowded places didn’t go much beyond hand-holding or a hug when you buried yourself into his chest. Affection was something for behind closed doors, where he could enjoy it, savor it, press it to the limit…

“I don’t think so,” he snapped, “Rather go around.”

“It’s a simple fee, sir,” the elf continued, still fully in character, “One kiss, two tickets to Santa’s winter gardens—“

“Do you take cash to let us through to the parking lot?”

“Joel…” you laughed, spinning quickly and grabbing his face between your hands, tugging him down enough to kiss him lightly, his tension melting beneath the gesture, “Look, you lived.”

All you got as a response was a grunt before you sweetly asked him to get the car while you made one more stop, an offer he graciously accepted.

When you arrived home, Joel took to prepping Sarah’s room for her arrival while you made a small dinner, his excitement to have his daughter home from school for a few weeks revving up as he washed blankets and set out the toiletries you’d collected earlier in the week. When the TV went on after and you settled in for a quiet night, he passed out within half an hour, allowing you the chance to slip away and prepare for the final surprise of the night.

Freshly showered and dressed for your plan, you returned to the couch to find him still asleep, the credits of the film you’d put on still rolling. You roused him gently, with soft calls of his name and wandering fingers over the stretch of his chest, his grimace as he emerged from his nap wrinkling his nose.

“I ain’t jinglin’ anymore bells,” he groaned, one eye cracking open to peek at you.

“Thought you might want one of your gifts early, that’s all,” you innocently cooed as he sat up, your satin robe capturing his curiosity.

“Oh yeah? And what might that be?”

“Open it.”

His eyes followed as your fingers toyed with the sash around your waist and he quickly replaced them with his own, pulling the loose knot free with an anticipatory sparkle in his eye.

“Christ…” he huffed out in awe, your curves clad in sheer blue lace a feast for his ravenous gaze, “Was I really this good?”

“Mhmm,” you hummed, toying with his graying hair gently as he soaked in the sight of you.

Calloused hands pulled you in by the waist as he sat up completely, latching onto the swell of your breast as he set to lavish your skin with his mouth and hands alike. He squeezed and dragged, his tongue swiping over every inch of skin that made you gasp and shiver. By the time he was finally dragging the fabric down with his teeth to release one of your pert nipples, your skin was tingling, a thin sheen of sweat forming as his lips locked around your little bud and your knees buckled beneath the pressure.

A groan of appreciation rumbled along your sensitive skin as his fingers swiped through the band of your panties and found you soaked. He’d switched his attention to your other side now, reciprocating all the affection he’d given the other, your hands cradling his head as he took his fill. Where your skin used to redden from the scratch of his beard, now it seared with need and desire, electricity coursing to the tips of your fingers as they wound in his hair and scratched reassuringly against his scalp.

“Lemme in here,” he grunted as he slid down onto the floor between your legs, his hand lifting on to allot him space to perch on the cushions beside his head, “Now you don’t stop til you’re done. Understood?”

That had your breath hitching before you nodded, the air cool on your slick folds as he tore the panties in half, citing it was his Christmas gift to do as he saw fit with before he situated you over his tongue and began lapping out to collect what had accumulated greedily. You started slow, running your slit over him as he kept his tongue flattened and free to use, only opting to suckle and press when you paused for a quick reprieve, wanting this to last longer than your body was allowing you. As always, he was patient in times like this (rarely in others), enjoying being surrounded by you in every conceivable way. It was how he liked to spend his time, at home, buried in you in any context.

“Jesus, Joel,” you whimpered as you began riding his mouth again, knowing this time you wouldn’t be able to repress the fire burning in your belly.

He gave you a muffled grunt as you carefully bounced up and down, the obscene smacking of his lips like gasoline until you gripped his hair and smeared the new rush of arousal your orgasm brought along his lower face, his beard already soaked from his previous work.

“Atta girl,” he commended, kissing up your inner thigh as he returned to his seat on the couch, quickly scooping you up and tossing you over his shoulder to bring you to your bedroom.

After you landed on the bed with a soft, thud, he was quick to strip himself of his jeans and flannel, his eyes locked on your still-damp cunt as he stroked his cock a few times, your thighs spreading to grant him full access. He teased with just the head at first, rubbing it against your still oversensitized clit until you were squirming, pushing into your channel in one hard thrust once your fingernails began denting into the skin of his forearms.

His thrusts were slow and hard, the drag of him against your inner walls as he pulled out, and the force he rut back in with had you feeling dizzy, your breasts shaking in the confines of the lace with every jolt. He was taking his time tonight, relishing in the way he felt buried deep inside of your cunt, the tightness of you clenching around him with every gratuitous press of his thumb to your swollen clit exactly what he was chasing.

“Joel, please,” you begged as pressure began to build again like the river against a weakening dam, “Please…”

With that small plea, he threw your legs up onto his shoulders and folded you in half as he bent to crash his lips to yours once again. Teeth clacked together as your tongues wrestled, his hips battering against your ass as he fucked you hard enough to have you sliding up the bed. You held him close, whining into his mouth in the way you knew he loved, pathetic and desperate, the little grunts you lived for beginning to flit into the air before you succumbed to the force bearing down on your stomach. Your eyes clenched shut as you screamed, your back arching off the bed as he took advantage of your exposed throat, keeping his own release at bay long enough to fully enjoy feeling yours overtake you.

Seconds after your cries turned to panting breaths he was spilling inside of you, hot and deep, that relieved sigh that signified he’d found the ultimate relief huffing out hot against your neck. As he regulated his own breath your fingers ran up and down his back, tracing the dips and curves of muscle decorating his sun-kissed skin.

“Merry Christmas,” you giggled as his heavy-lidded eyes lifted to look down at you, a smile stretching across his handsome face.

“I guess all I wanted for Christmas was you after all,” he joked as he rose to get a towel, “Maybe that song was on to something.”

Joel Miller Masterlist

*I didn't proofread this, I die like the amateur I am.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fluff #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller christmas

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joelsflower · 10 days

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little present | bfd!joel x f!reader

an: okay i know we’re in APRIL lmaoo sorry but i was listening to last christmas by wham! and the whole idea came to me. enjoy tho!! read it now!! reread it in december!! do whatever!! hope u like it!! :^) so yeah this is christmas themed a bit. sorry. also i apologize if i’m still mistaking “in/on/at” a bit too much, i’m still learning the language :/ hope it’s not too bad and doesn’t influence badly on your reading tho! no beta ops

wc: around 2.5k i believe?

tw: titty sucking and pussy fingering combo (yay!), beginning of blowjob but that’s it, soft dom!joel, older!joel (i imagine him on late 40s/early 50s and reader on early/middle 20s but up to you), best friend’s dad, teasing reader, teasing joel, teasing me, teasing you, reader is able bodied, afab but not described; there’s one part where “your smaller body” is used but in no way to describe reader, just to point she was smaller than joel. image also does not describe reader, only for visuals. no y/n. ALSO. weather not described!! shout out to us latinas who go through christmas sweating and panting 🫡 it can be snowing too tho up to you

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You knocked three times on the door; unsure if it would sound impatient or even be heard due to the loud music and chatting coming from the inside. Sarah didn’t lie about the whole family coming this year for Christmas.

By the look on Joel’s face when he opened the door, your three knocks sounded more like the angels singing.

His big brown eyes lit up like candlelight when they found you. For a moment, you stood there in silent, letting him get drunk in your sight and you in his. The puffy bags under his eyes let you know it was a rough week, a rough week without you. The raspy, yet-to-make scruff adorning his cheeks and neck inciting your skin without even being near it. His calloused knuckles gripped the doorknob and the muscle on his bicep swelled, making your mouth water.

You let your eyes dance from his salt and pepper curls and finally to the little bit of chest peaking from the deep red plaid shirt, and when your eyes found his he broke the spell, letting out what seemed to be the first breath he took since he opened the door.

“Hi, sweetheart. Didn’t know Sarah invited you.” he shrugged weirdly, hand resting on his hip and the other on the door, like he was nervous. Due to college and construction, it’s been around one week since you’ve properly seen each other — it seemed like a whole year.

“Oh, hey santa” you joked, soft voice coaxing his tired ears, nodding to the santa hat hugging his curls. Suddenly, it was like he remembered he was wearing it and took it off, shoving it in his back pocket while making a face, biting back a smile when your giggle hit his ears.

“Uh- yeah, I wasn’t on the plans I think,” your fingers carved on the plate in your hand, and he gave you a “stop that” face, “she just called me last minute. But I have this!” you shook the plate of cookies a little, making it be noticed.

“Didn’t need t’bring anything, ya know. Just you’s enough.” silence once again put itself between the two of you, and if you were losing your mind, Joel could bet he was losing his a lot more harder. Opening the door to find the only sight that could relief his tired eyes on a beautiful red dress that hugged your body perfectly, matching see-through black thighs that allowed him to see just enough to drive him crazy and the need for comfort that he could well read in your gaze was not on his list, but was definitely a present.

Not being able to properly talk or touch you was feeling more like being on santa’s badlist, though. And maybe it was what he deserved, he thought, for fucking his daughter’s best friend and enjoying it so much.

You brought him back to life. What was he supposed to do if not give you the world and the best orgasms in it?

“Uh- come on in, then” he shook his desire away, holding the door open and watching as you passed by him.

One foot past the door and the chatter got louder. Uncles and sisters and cousins of cousins of cousins — there were a lot of Millers in this world, and all of them would be a problem if you wanted just a bit of closeness to Joel tonight.

“Thank you, Mr. Miller,” you looked up at him shyly, hoping treating him more formally would get you away in case anyone heard anything. Joel, on the other side, could not be less subtle while losing control of how hard he closed the door when your silky voice hit his ears, saying his name, thanking him. Just like you did when he held your wrists up your head and made your foggy bambi eyes roll back your head.

“Here,” he took the santa hat in his hands, stepping closer to put it in your head. The way his fingers carefully put your hair behind your ear set your body on fire, just the slight brush of its tips on your earlobe, the soft but swift strokes on your scalp to put your hair in place sending cold breezes up and down your spine.

“I missed you,” you whispered, lashes flourishing while your fingers boldly played the buttons of his flannel. You just needed to touch him.

But he didn’t answer right away, too focused on “putting the damn thing on your head”, which translates to an excuse to caressing your face and being close enough your sweet, peachy smell invaded his nostrils and messed with his brain chemistry.

“All done” your glossy eyes and quivering lips broke his heart in a million; all he wanted to do was take you in his arms right there. “Later, angel” he reassured you, taking your hand off of his shirt and giving you a softer look, that you knew was his way of apologising and comforting you for now. It was too risky, you knew that too.

“Oh gosh, you’re here, finally!” Sarah jumped on you for a hug, scaring the two of you, her bubbly energy warming you up. “Jesus dad, knew you’d hate it,” she gestured to the hat on your head, filling your mind with thoughts of him. “C’mon, you need to meet cousin Maria!” she dragged you away, the only thing connecting you to Joel being the lingering gaze you’d share for the rest of the night.

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“Ha! Remember that, brother?” Tommy laughed about a story old enough to be your age; about one time him, Joel and their other cousin Frank went fishing and something apparently went wrong, you weren’t really paying attention though.

Not when Joel’s hand had found your knee under the table.

You just had to sit by his side cause Sarah wanted to be close to Maria that was close to Tommy that was close to someone else and the seat by Joel’s side ended up being the only one empty.

“Sit there by dad’s side, he doesn’t care. Here, gimme this,” she took the plate of sweets from your hands, setting it on the table. Joel, who was praying someone could come save him from hearing the same story for the 10th time, made space for you to pull the chair and accommodate your smaller figure by his side.

Around ten minutes into chatting with Sarah and Maria and taking food from left to right on the table, you felt his knee brush yours. The simple warmth of physical connection between the two of you made your whole body vigilant, in hopes for some more.

“Ya should be there, Sarah. Never not funny seeing your old man struggling t’get some fish” Tommy looked towards you, meeting Sarah’s and Maria’s giggles. Joel bit back a laugh, it was funny, yes, but he didn’t want to look like a stupid old man to you. That’s when you met him with a small smile and a brush of your thigh on his, inviting his hand to instinctively envelope your knee.

“Oh, I’ve seen him struggle to do less, believe me”

And I’ve seen him do more with the stamina of a teenage boy, you thought.

Joel’s hand snaked up a bit more into your leg, always careful to not be seen, but stern enough to make you feel him, invading the area of your inner thigh and dragging your dress up a little. The warmth of his large palm against the material pressing at your skin was driving you insane, the way his fingers were digging into your soft but covered flesh and his thumb squeezing at your outer thigh making your core pulse and the hairs at your neck stir up.

Mine, ran through his head.

“Both of you are on my badlist tonight, hope y’know that” he seriously pointed at Sarah and Tommy, giving them an angry-like look and the ones around you bursted laughing. You reached down a hand to lay on top of his, your smaller fingers gripping his much bigger pointer one, his thumb immediately brushing your hand, his way of saying “you’re not”.

🌹🌹🌹

“I think I need some air” you told Sarah as you got up from the couch and released her hand. Your tummy was full and your eyes were starting to get heavy. From the other side of the room, Joel’s eyes followed you to the balcony.

The peace of the outside of the house was everything you needed, trying to keep your mind from the trap of going into the Joel Joel Joel Joel to risky risky risky spiral. The moon lit up the sky and kissed your rosy cheeks, the singing of the crickets taking you away from all the buzz.

Just when you closed your eyes and breathed in the december air, you jumped when a strong hold surrounded your waist, the warmth of his chest hugging your back.

“Jesus, I— they’ll see us” you panicked.

“Shhh, it’s okay,” his other hand spread to pet on your tummy, paired with a kiss to your temple, “I checked, no one’s near. Wouldn’t want t’share you with anyone though, would I? Looking like my own little cherry on this dress” his fingers gripped the dress deep, sliding it up and down your waist a bit.

“I missed you so much” you turned around in his hold, arms wrapping around his neck and tugging at the curls at the base of his scalp. On your tiptoes you glued your body to his, closest as you could get, taking in the strong smell of his cologne that made your insides twirl. One of his hands danced down your spine to rest on your lower back, while the other held the back of your neck.

“Oh angel, missed you too, s’much. Can’t go a day without thinking about you, little one.” His deep voice whispered on your ear. Joel firmed his feet on the ground and swayed your bodies slowly left to right, calming you down. “Thinking about holding you, having you with me. About hearing your voice call me from the other side of the house and moan my name when I’m knuckle deep inside ya’”

“Joel!” You snapped his arm a little, staring into his eyes in disbelief.

“Am I lying?” he looked down at you with his rounded brown eyes, the same that could get you on your knees, mouth hanging open, with this exact same look he was giving you now. You shook your head slowly, fingers anchoring his shirt, “know you love it, baby, I love it too. Shit, should’ve found a way to see you earlier. I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” He rested his forehead on yours.

You distanced your head back and looked towards the living room, checking to see if you were still safe from prying eyes “want more of you,” you whispered.

Joel smirked, “Later baby, ‘kay?”

You stared up at him, no confirmation.

“Hm? Can you be my good girl and be patient?” He held your chin up with his thumb and pointer, forcing your gaze to be on his and nowhere else, “G’na be worth the wait, promise. But you need to be good f’me. Can you do that?”

“I can” you murmured, eyes closing as his hands found your sides and gave them a firm squeeze.

“Know y’can, darling. My best girl.”

🌹🌹🌹

“Shhh, c’mon angel. Know these precious little sounds belong to me only,” Joel’s deepened voice vibrated on your neck, his teeth grazing the soft skin and making your head go foggy.

It was a combination of it all, to be honest; his hot mouth and beard on your neck, you only in your underwear and thighs and him fully clothed, his thumbs mercilessly circling your nipples through your bra and his very hard bulge grinding against your pussy and his whole weight pressing you down against his bed.

It started when you both came back to the living room — in separate moments, of course — and then you needed to go the bathroom but the one downstairs was occupied and Joel suddenly needed to check on something very important in his room.

“P-Please, Joel,” you cooed, the pool in your cunt becoming unbearable, your wetness overtaking your poor excuse of panties and messing the front of his jeans.

“‘S okay baby, gonna take care of you,” he gave your mouth a peck, hands releasing your stiffed nipples to hold your face in his hand so his tongue could invade your mouth. “I’ma bad old man, ain’t I? Making my little girl wait for so long to feel good. Fisting my cock the whole week, thinking ‘bout this pussy swallowing me in. Bad, bad man.” you shook your head no in a desperate side-to-side move, fingers gripping his shoulders, as if taking his shirt off, but his force was pinning you down just right.

A sudden grind of his hips into yours and tears pooled on your waterlines, your hands stilling and your throat holding back a moan while Joel groaned at the feeling of his hard cock rocking against you. “That’s what you want, isn’t it, princess? To feel so, so good?” Another desperate nod. “Shh, c’mon baby. G’na make you cum for the week we lost.”

Joel used his hands to lift you by your armpits and sit you against his headboard, lowering his body and dragging your lacy thighs with him, torturously slowly. Now he was face-to-face with your covered pussy, “oh, poor baby. Feel her, angel,” he pressed his thumb up and down your core, your wetness gluing your panties to your slit, overflowing a bit around the lacy edges. “So desperate to be touched, ain’t she? Just waiting for me to take care of her. I will baby, don’t worry. Been such a good little girl f’me. Gonna stuff you full in a minute”

He finally tangled his fingers on the thin stripes of your panties, but first giving the little bow on top of it a little kiss. “My little present,” he murmured, more to himself then to you, but smirking when your core pulsed with his words.

The moment Joel’s fingers slid the lace down your legs and his hot breath ghosted your pussy, you were a goner; all your fuzzy brain could focus on were the strong pressure of his tongue on your clit and his fingers patiently circling your hole.

“Let me in, angel,” he begged and started to push two of his digits inside your pussy, his head now on the level of your cleavage, keeping himself from missing the reaction of his own little Christmas angel being finger fucked by him.

Your eyes screwed shut and your mouth fell open, making a little “o” shape when two of his thick fingers spread you open all at once, making you just so full. “My tight little princess,” he cooed, looking down at your pussy swallowing his fingers in and out, your juice covering his knuckles with each pump, deeper and deeper. The slick sounds of the obscene act you two were dwelling in almost distracted you from hearing Joel’s “who’s pussy is this?”

Instead of answering, your smaller hands held his face and pulled him into a kiss, a very wet, hot kiss, his tongue making home for itself inside your mouth and twirling around your own, teeth grazing at your lower lip hard enough to leave a mark and soft enough to leave you wanting more.

“It’s yours, Joel,” you finally gave him what he wanted, a string of spit connecting the two of you.

“Tha’s my girl.” He curled his fingers to brush at that spot that made your head cloudy and the back of your eyelids starry, pulling the sweetest, most desperate moan from your wet lips (both of them). “And tha’s my pussy, hm?” He watch attentively as your eyes got too hazy and your mouth too open to process what he was saying, “poor little thing, so good can’t even think straight.”

You caught Joel by surprise though, when your hand found his clothed cock, giving your best to grab at it as hard as you could, stroking him with your palm and thumb. Even so lazily, the action drove him crazy enough to lose himself in your neck, fingers still fucking your pussy full and beard leaving marks all over your skin.

Joel allowed himself to get lost in the feeling of your hot, pulsing cunt strangling his fingers and your small hand palming his cock to lower his head a little bit, teeth pulling your excuse of a bra to the side (or trying).

“J-Joel,” you plead, the delicate lace of your lingerie ripping like paper in between his teeth.

“G’na get you a new one, love. Lot’s of new ones.” He spent no time, greedily sucking one of your tits into his mouth, tongue languidly abusing your nipple. His mustache hurting the soft skin of the area while his warm spit and velvety lips caressed the burn.

Feeling your pussy pulse and pull him hard, Joel increased the pace of his fingers inside you and directed his attention to your other boob too, his spit lingering all over your chest. “Pussy gripping me real tight, baby, wanna cum, don’t ya? I’ll let ya, c’mon. Cum all over me, little girl.”

And you did. Pussy squirming his fingers and almost making them a part of your own body, lips hanging open with nonsense babble followed by muffled moans and cries, nipples stiff and hard by the overstimulation.

His own little present, as he himself put. All for him.

Joel helped you calm down with sweet kisses to your cheeks and lots of “did so good to me, my little angel”, “missed you having you like this”, “my best girl, makes me so happy, baby”.

“Y’with me?” he nosed at your temple and noticed your eyes turn brighter, the small nod of your head bringing you back to a fully conscious state of mind.

“Open.” he positioned the tip of the fingers that were once inside you on your lower lip, your mouth instinctively hanging open to welcome him inside. “That’s it, ‘atta girl,” he rewarded as you sucked his fingers clean from your own mess, realising why his eyes became so dark with the action.

He hadn’t come yet.

You pulled your mouth from his fingers and kneeled between him and the bed, hands gripping his bulge shamelessly.

“Still gotta clean you up, angel. C’mon, we can do that later. Jus’ wanted t’take care of you.” he held your chin up to gather your attention, a failed attempt, you knew he needed it as much as you.

“‘S okay, I wanna. Just gonna suck on it a little.”

“My sweet girl,” Joel complimented as his palm held the whole side of your face, your bambi gaze distracting him while you worked both his pants and underwear down his legs.

With your mouth only inches away from his girthy, veiny cock that was proudly bouncing in front of your face, you gripped at the thick hairs at his base and gave the swollen, ruddy tip a mouth-open kiss, silky lips enveloping the head while his precum oozed down your tongue and a deep groan left his throat, your fingers gripping his base as your thumbs caressed his balls. You found his gaze again, pulling the most sincere, grateful and innocent look you had.

“Merry Christmas, Joel.”

🌹🌹🌹

#AHHH WHO WROTED THAT #ofc lis wrote a christmas fic in april! cause lis is insane! and that’s okay!#don’t know if i love this one #but hey a moodboard! anyway byeee #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller fic #pedro pascal #pedro characters #joel tlou #joel x reader #joel miller x you #tlou fanfiction

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romanarose · 4 months

Text

Yes, Uncle Tommy?

DBF!Joel Miller x fem!reader

DBF!Tommy Miller x fem!reader

Join my taglist : Masterlist

Summary: Something something, Santa's not the only one coming?

Your dads friend's kid brother, Tommy, fucks you while Joel watches... but Joel cant keep his hands to himself

Warnings and Content: Big, girthy age gap, degrading, rough sex, cucking Joel, objectification (calling her a toy, a sex doll etc). Tommy is playfully teasing you but it's in jest. Jerking off, cream pie and cum in face, make up smearing, ass eating, praise, "daddy" joel, "uncle tommy" threesome between brothers but they are far away from each other, but watching. ball sucking, mentions of oral, m and f receiving, slapping, pinning down, nipple play, spitting. EXPLICITE AND LOVING CONSENT! This was a lot so if i missed anything LMK!!!!!

Immersability: Reader is fem, has hair, reader is much younger than Joel and Tommy. Mentions of readers stomach jiggling but i think most (not all i'll conceed!) do when folded and pounded lol. Mentions of a "bruising grip" as a metaphor but not mentions of bruising or coloration.

The requested part two to Yes, Mr. Miller? but you don't gotta read before.

1.7 k Words

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"Jesus Christ!" Tommy laughed at you mockingly. "Look at her, struggling so hard to take it!"

Joel knelt behind you, fisting his cock above you as you chocked on his balls. "Be nice, baby's just sensitive." He warned his brother. He liked to watch Tommy's cock disappear into your little cunt.

"Yeah cause your scruffy excuse for a beard was all up in between her legs for hours before you decided to invite me in."

Joel had intended on fucking you raw in your bed again, but when Tommy heard the sounds coming out of your door, he put two and two together. After a brief, whispered deliberation with you, Joel invited him in.

'Be my own, personal porn star.' He had instructed. You knew just what Joel liked to see, and now he had the perfect view. Still, you couldn't help the sounds that drew Tommy in the first place so to keep your mouth occupied, Joel shoved his cock in your mouth. After he decided you were a little overwelmed, he switched to his balls.

"Poor little, baby..." Tommy mused. "Get'n awfully squirmy... wassamatter? Can't take it?" It was mostly playful mockery, but also his way of checking up on you.

All he got was a muffled whine as slobbered on Joel's fat balls.

Joel sat back on his haunches, pulling himself out of you but dragging his heavy balls on your face along the way, making sure to smear your make up as he spat a glob of spit on your before slapping you across the face.

"Uncle Tommy asked you a question, baby. Didn't daddy teach you your manners?"

Choking back a sob as you're stretched to the limit at the core of you, Tommy slows down to allow you to breath without his cock punching the air out of your lungs.

"Y-yes, unclemmmm, uncle Tommy?" You ask in your bestest, goodest girl voice.

"I said," Tommy grabbed your hips and yanked you down till you hit his pelvis, making you gasp. He dropped his body down to kiss your neck and said in a soft voice. "Are you doing alright?"

"Yes, Uncle Tommy, thank you sir." You seal it with a kiss on the lips and a buck of your hips, spurring Tommy on again.

The younger Miller groaned, pulling back and smiling at his brother as his hips snapped into you with fury. Both kept their shirts and a light jacket on incase they needed to clean up quick, and the way you were crying out, Joel wasn't sure you could keep from alerting the whole house when you came.

Joel placed his hands on your shoulders, pinning your wriggling body down. "Hold still, little girl..." Joel chastised, shuttering a bit at the lose of stimulation from his rough hands.

"M'm sorry daddy" You whine, but do little to stop the writhing on the bed.

Soothingly, Joel ran his hands down your still-clothes chest, swiping over your hard nipples and going back to rub your neck, repeating this motion and keeping you pinned down.

"It's okay, sweet girl, it's a lot, isn't it?"

It was, it was so fucking much. Joel was longer, but Tommy's cock was fatter, splitting you open wide. Despite the ache, you we so, so fucking high off pleasure right now, you could scream. Your stomach swooped with every thrust, Tommy hitting you right in your core as Joel massaged you, neglecting his own aching cock.

"Such a good little girl for us Joel, thanks for sharing your little toy." Tommy smacked your thigh, forcing you to bite down on your lip to prevent the yelp. "Hurts so good, but she's taking it anyway. Fuuuck, brother squeeze'n me so tight I think she's about to cum! Pathetic little thing, ain't she."

"Ohhh, she just wants to be good, Tommy! She just wants to be a little fuck doll for her daddy and uncle, bet her whole family can hear her little pussy getting torn apart." As Joel brought his hands down again, he squeezed your tits in a bruising grip, sure to leave a mark, before rolling your perky nipples between his fingers.

"Fuck, daddy!" You cry, making Tommy laugh again.

"I dunno Joel, I reckon you better fill her mouth up again before her real daddy comes in to find her being used like a blow up sex doll."

"I think you're right, brother."

"Always am."

Joel knelt up again, balls dangling above you and you open your mouth eagerly to taste his musk, but Joel surprises you by lowering himself down so his ass was right on your mouth. You could feel his balls on your chin as her jerked himself, muffling your moans and cries and begging with his ass.

"Oh fuuuck yeah, that's it, my dirty little girl"

Tommy chuckles, never relenting on his pace on you, fucking into your waiting body with everything he had. "Fucking nasty. She'll just let you do anything to her, huh?"

"Pretty much. Little girl just wants to make her daddy proud." You and Joel had actually talked about ass eating before and you said you were game, given the proper sanitary measures. Joel never actually did anything you didn't want or anything he hadn't asked about.

Glancing to the side, Joel saw your teddy, the little toy he had you clutching when he fucked you over thanksgiving and god an idea. Taking the toy and gripping at the neck, Joel pressed the button to your clit right above where his brother was defiling your little cunt. "Teddy wants you to come, baby."

He feels your whimpers reverberate between his ass cheeks as you like into him, tongue prodding at his tight hole. You briefly had the thought of slipping a finger up his ass, but remember that had not been discussed yet. You wondered if he'd let you peg him.

Joel looked up at Tommy, his brother's boyish face grinning wildly back at him. Joel had made Tommy start of easy, not going full pace just yet as he wasn't sure you could take that for too long, but now, as things were coming to an end, Joel wanted you absolutely destroyed. He picked your pretty make up smearing all over his ass.

"Go nuts Tommy. Fuck her like a rag doll."

Given full permission, Tommy was unleased. He gripped your hips, lifting them off he bed and he heard a muffled squeal before fucking hard and fast, your skirt falling down and revealing your jiggling belly. He was an absolutely mad man, slapping into you with such fervor Joel was carefully paying attention to your grip on his thighs as you ate him in case you needed to tap out, but your never once faltered on your tongue work. Joel took the moment to jerk his cock furiously, his one personal porn star getting fucking right in front of him, and him having the best seat in the house.

"Fuck, Joel." Tommy calls his attention, voice strained and eyes pinched closed. "She's fuck'n cum'n, cum'n real har- oh fuuuuck... shit! 'm cuming so hard!" With a few more grunts, Tommy spilled into you, filling you up with gushes of his warm seed.

Just then, Joel pulled back off your face just in time to spray the hot white on the red and black mixture of your make up, releasing with a grunt.

"Fuck darl'n, such a sexy little fuck doll for me..." When he was finished, Joel rubbed your teddy on your messy, soiled face. "Good girl.... such a good girl..." He coaxed Tommy to lay down, redressing himself before grabbing your makeup removing wipes and the baby wipes you added to your collection for days like this. He grabbed a few make-up wipes and tossed the baby wipes to Tommy. Joel sat on the bed, pulling your limp body towards him to rest your head on his lap. As Tommy took care gently wiping your aching and puffy pussy, tender in his strokes but thorough, Joel wiped down your soiled face, both whispering words of praise.

"Such a pretty girl"

"Did so well for us, princesca."

"Perfect thing."

Once you (and teddy) were clean, Tommy made his exit with a parting kiss, leaving you and Joel together.

"How do you feel, baby girl?" He asked, smoothing his hand over your face to sooth you.

"Great, Daddy. How do you feel?" You wanted to check in with him too. Fucking you at the same time as his brother may not have been the threesome he initially proposed, but you hoped you weren't dissapointing.

You could feel the smile in his voice. "Absolutely perfect, darling girl. amazing"

You laid there on his lap for a few moments until you heard the bathroom door opening after Tommy and your dads tell tale footsteps up the stairs.

"Heya Tom, where you been hiding?"

"Oh," Nervous laughter as he patted his stomach. "Just, you know, the eggnog. You know how I am with dairy." Tommy is talking too loud, signaling Joel to make his escape.

Joel mutters 'shitshitshit' and quickly put his shoes on, you scrambling to push him into the closet.

"You seen Joel lately? Or my kid? Wanna make sure she ain't drank too much. She gets a little dizzy sometimes with alcohol."

"Uhhh no man, ain't seen 'er. Joel i think went out for a smoke though."

"I'll check in her room."

"OH, uh, you know, she might be sleeping." He was so fucking loud and a bad actor.

You shut the closet door, and scramble back to your bed just in time for your dad to knock gently before carefully opening and calling your name in hushed tone. "High honey, you feeling okay? Disappeared there for a moment."

"Yeah dad, I'm alright. Just feeling a little under the weather is all."

"You have too much to drink?"

"Yeah, that might be it..."

"Ill get you some water, alright? And a bite to eat. make you feel better. Be back in a sec."

"Thank you daddy!"

When the door closed, you tell Joel it's clear and he comes out of the closet.

"Go, he's gonna make me leftovers, now's your chance!" You begin shoving him to your door, just Joel stops, pinching your cheeks with his thumb and forefingers.

"Don't you ever call another man daddy, understood?"

Through your squished cheeks you murmur. "Yes, Mr. Miller." He kisses you on the forehead and makes his exit.

*****************

Special shout out to @pedge-page bc the teddy scene was from their work Plushies Series Masterlist that fried my brain!

Thank you for all your love on yes, mr miller? i hope you like this too!

Im not getting rid of my tag list, but im adding an update blog, @romana-updates ! come follow and/or turn on notifications so you dont miss a thing!

But if being tagged is more your style, comment on the tag list linked above!

@fandxmslxt69 @runa-falls @k-ra @whatthefishh @ahookedheroespureheart @mikaelak @littlenosoul @stevenandmarcslove @pikapuff-316 @del-ightfulling @faretheeoscar @harriedandharassed @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @campingwiththecharmings @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @milly-louise @casa-boiardi @joeldjarin

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softpascalito · 5 months

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Christmas Baking for Three - Joel Miller x Reader

Summary: You're tired, pregnant, angry and you mess up the cookies meant for Joel. He gets a full blast of your hormones - and still manages to surprise you.

Relationships: Joel Miller x F!Reader WC: 1800 Tags/Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Baking, Christmas Cookies, Christmas, Pregnancy, Female Reader, No use of y/n, Fights, Mention of normal pregnancy struggles, Soft Joel (The Last of Us), Nicknames, Kissing, Crying, Joel Miller in an apron Read on AO3 full advent calendar (updated daily)

notes: another lil calendar piece that is also dedicated to steph's winter writing challenge (@toomanystoriessolittletime) with the trope baking <3 i also wanted to mention a very short but very lovely pregnancy piece by SwiggitySwagNightmareStag with peña that i found really inspiring in regards to p characters and how they handle pregnancy. you can read it here! <3

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

You swore under your breath as you opened the oven door, only to be met with a gush of heat and the smell of burnt dough. The cookies that you had so carefully prepared, cut out in the shapes of christmas trees and hearts, had taken on a dark brown color, the furthest row from you already smoking slightly.

“Fuck-” With a quick move, you maneuvered the try of burnt cookies onto the sink to let them cool off. Looking at them in broad daylight, it was clear that they were barely edible and in no way as enjoyable as they should be.

You ignored the surge of anger inside of yourself, anger at the oven for being so damn unreliable, at the timer that you’d meant to replace ages ago, at yourself. You’d been too distracted with cleaning up, then being forced to take a quick trip to the bathroom upstairs and getting sidetracked with laundry.

A groan left you at the realization. The laundry was still soaking in the bathtub, abandoned the second you’d caught a glimpse of the clock and realized how long the cookies had been baking for.

Angry tears shot into your eyes. It felt like a never-ending battle between you and your ever-growing list of things to do, to prepare, to keep track of. And this had been the one thing you’d wanted to do for him, to thank him for taking over so many of said things now that you were in your third trimester. Maybe you could start over, hide the failed cookies, to spare your another embarrassment in front of-

As if summoned by your thoughts, the door of the small mudroom bordering the kitchen opened with a creak. Merely a second later and clearly alarmed by the smell, he was hurrying into the room, eyes raking through the kitchen until they landed on you. His shoulders slumped slightly as he took in your form, checking you from top to bottom.

“Are you okay?” Joel's voice was soft, despite him being a little out of breath. You could see the basket filled with firewood behind him. Another task that used to be yours before your stomach had grown too big.

He watched your reaction, carefully making his way around the counter, glancing at the burnt cookies in passing. It was enough to make the tears finally spill from your eyes, rolling down your face and landing on the shirt that was already stained with flour. And the anger inside of you? It had finally found an outlet.

The poor man didn't even have time to brace himself before you started yelling.

“You arent supposed to be home, what the fuck are you doing here?!” He looked taken aback, but only for a moment. Then his face seemed to relax. You didn't want him to relax. You wanted him to be as angry as you were and in as much pain and misery. You knew it was a horrible, horrible thought, but you couldn't help it. You wanted him to have to run to the toilet upwards of twenty times a day, to have him woken up by a human kicking inside of him at the most ungodly hours.

“You said you'd be at work until five! You're not-” Another sob escaped you as the knot in your chest seemed to grow exponentially, “You're not supposed to be here yet and-”

You couldn't find a single trace of anger on his face. Not in the crease between his brows, not in the corners of his mouth, not even in his eyes. All you could find was concern.

“Hey-” Joel whispered, his hands cupping your cheeks. They were cold but you leaned into the touch regardless, “What's going on, darlin? Talk to me, please.”

You hiccuped slightly as you tried to speak, the words fighting hard to not get outside. As far as your body was concerned, there was no point in telling him, in making him a bigger part of your currently miserable experience than he already had to be.

“Burned- I burned the cookies-” You mumbled, “I wanted- wanted to surprise you.”

Your arms finally wrapped around him, your body fitting snug against his, even with your baby bump between you. Joel pulled you closer, one hand supporting your back while the other gently stroked your hair, “Shhh, it's okay. You're okay.”

He held you like that for a while, occasionally whispering words of gentle encouragement into your ear until the sobs had stopped. Then, he nudged you towards the living room, guiding you to sit down on one of the armchairs next to the window. He stayed by your side, kneeling down in front of you as he kept his hands on your legs, gently rubbing your thigh.

“There we are,” Joel mumbled softly, producing a handkerchief from nearby and wiping the last of your tears from your cheeks. He gave you a few more moments of silence before he spoke.

“Wanna talk about it?” You opened your mouth to decline, to push him away and deal with it yourself. It's what you would have done a few months ago. But, as he kept reminding you, you were a team now. No, not just a team. Parents. Soon-to-be-parents. He-was-once-before-but-you-were-new-to-all-this-parents.

“It's just been a lot,” you mumbled, watching as Joel nodded along, soft brown eyes radiating understanding. “And I'm already putting so much work on you on top of your normal duties so I thought- I wanted to do something nice for you.”

Joel hummed quietly, his thumb pressing into your thigh a little, “You do nice things for me all the time, darlin’.”

“I don't. Not with-” You helplessly gestured to your stomach. You could practically see Joel's expression getting a little more serious at that, “Baby, I promise you do. You're here when I come home, right? You fall asleep next to me. You kiss me when you wake up in the morning. Don't need more than that, baby.”

Almost instantly, the tears were back. A thick one rolled down your cheek and Joel reached up just in time to catch it.

“I appreciate you wanting to bake for me, godda-” He stopped himself from cursing, a habit he’d picked up in the last few weeks, with the due date coming ever closer and him insisting that you should at least try to bring up a civilized child. You had a feeling it had less to do with your child and more with the amount of curse words Ellie dropped on a daily basis, but if it made Joel happy, you wouldn't argue against it.

He sighed, “I really do appreciate it. And you know I think your cookin’ is nothing short of magic,” he mumbled quietly. Then he shook his head, his hand wandering to gently rest on your round stomach, “But it's not why I'm with you.”

“Besides, you're already doin’ a whole lot of baking in here,” he added with a small smile, gently patting your stomach and you couldn't help but let out a small laugh.

“I wouldn't exactly call it baking.”

Joel raised a brow, “No, ‘m pretty sure it is. I made a real nice dough, put it right in here, turned up the heat and now I just gotta wait for it to be done.”

“You're such an idiot, Miller,” you offered weakly as you leaned down towards him, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. He smirked against your lips, “If being an idiot gets you to stop crying, I'll do it more often.”

The kiss barely had time to get more heated before you gently pushed back against Joel's chest, “Gotta finish the laundry upstairs.” A small frown built on his face, “We agreed I'd do that. Ain't good for your back, baby.”

“I told you, I've been-” He actually cut you off this time, squeezing your thigh a little to make you fall silent, “Remember what I said? When you told me you were pregnant?”

You raised a brow, “Before or after you almost fainted?” Joel sent you a playful glare at that, causing you to sigh, “You said we were in this together. That you- that you'd be here for it all.”

“That's right,” he mused softly, his thumb still absent-mindedly caressing your thigh.

“Now, let me go take care of the laundry and you take a nap, yeah? You look-” He paused for a moment, clearly trying to find a nice way to say it, “You look real tired, darlin’.”

You drifted off to the sound of clothes being washed in the bathtub in the next room and to Joel's soft humming of a lullaby he’d been practicing. If this works just half as good on our baby, you thought right before falling asleep, we’re not going to half a single sleepless night.

When you wake up, the rays of afternoon sun are filtering through the windows, giving the house the warm glow you like it so much for. Stumbling into the kitchen, you're met with a sight that you've never seen before.

Joel Miller, an apron tied around his front, kneading away on a piece of dough. Your small laughter alerts him to your presence and you swear you can spot the faintest blush on his cheeks as you practically skip towards him.

“If you wanted an excuse to wear that, you could've just said so,” you tease, leaning against the counter as you watch him. Joel grumbles softly but the small smile on his face isn't lost on you, “ ‘bout time you wake up. Wanna help?”

You frown slightly- and then you realize what he’s doing. Baking bread is something you do often, but this isn't that. The cookie recipe you'd been using earlier is placed next to him, the dough looks exactly the same yours had before you’d burned it.

“Figured we both like cookies. Plus it doubles as a Christmas activity and, well.”

You kiss him. Once, twice, only stopping when he forces you to. He's perfect.

You bake together this time, with you showing him how to get the cut-outs just right, him sneaking a few pieces of the dough into his mouth when he thinks you’re not looking. It’s cozy and relaxing and for the first time in weeks, you seem to forget all about the struggles of being a pregnant woman.

You both sit in front of the oven afterwards, you in Joels lap, your bodies intertwined, both watching eagerly as the cookies slowly turn golden. He kisses your head, his nose nuzzling your hair a few times.

“Next time you’re overwhelmed like that?” He mumbles quietly, “Just let me know, yeah? You know I'm here. For you and the little one”

You nod softly, resting your head against his chest, “I know.”

notes: as always, thank you for reading. i adore each and every one of you. if you enjoyed this, feel free to give me an early christmas present by leaving a comment or reblogging <3

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be-an-echo · 4 months

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Merry Christmas guyyyss🎄

#merry christmas beautiful people #hope you're enjoying it as much as these two #let's admit tess cannot bake #she's learning in jackson but joel is still the one doing do cooking #as u can see it's for her own safety #oh and the first one? well it's up to you what happened there #u know it's funny how i always forget to draw some detail i really wanted to add and then remember a week later with OHHHH WHY #im wondering... what it is this time :D #i miss christmas... they are not what they used to be and im “forced” to spend them at work wearing shitty clothes my boss wants #i swear one more thing and im not only quitting my job but also attacking my employer #just kidding but f@*k bartending #sorry but its been a lot #tess servopoulos #joel miller #joel x tess #tess tlou #joel tlou #tessjoel #tess lives #why is it always end of the tags where i unleash this?

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sweetercalypso · 4 months

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Candlelight || Joel Miller

Word Count: 1.3k

Summary: When a power outage interrupts your Christmas preparations, neighbor!Joel Miller appears on your doorstep to make sure you’re alright

Notes: no warnings! enemies to lovers, swearing, one kiss, Hallmark level fluff, grumpy neighbor Joel turned into a big softie by the power of Christmas

The holiday season is a time to celebrate the values that bring people together – generosity, friendship, gratitude. It provides an opportunity to reflect on the things you’re thankful for, the things that matter most.

It seems ironic that your Christmas will be spent in the dark.

Just as you’re leaning over your dining table to light the collection of candles meant to bring light into your home, the sound of knocking interrupts your focus. You grumble under your breath and stumble towards the entryway, hoping to greet the electrician you’d called some time ago, or a neighbor coming to keep you updated on the problem.

When you throw the door open, however, you’re faced with the last person you’d expect to see standing on the other side.

“Joel? What’re you doing here?”

This time of year, it seems like every house on the block has adorned their lawn with as many dazzling, ornate decorations as possible. Giant flashing Christmas trees, snowmen that move and sing carols through the night, blinking life-sized reindeer lining every driveway – your street must look like a landing strip to planes passing overhead.

It was a tradition that your entire neighborhood partook in, always competing to have the biggest, the brightest, display on the street. The only house that wasn’t decorated for the holidays was the one across from yours, belonging to the infamous grump of the neighborhood – Joel Miller.

He’s lived on this street longer than you have, so you’re not sure if he’d always been this much of a scrooge, but you’d like to think he was born with the heart of an ill-tempered Grinch. You’d never seen so much as a single Christmas tree lighting up his windows.

Maybe he just doesn’t celebrate, you’d told yourself. There are plenty of reasons not to enjoy the holidays.

You were fine to leave it at that until Joel Miller himself showed up on your doorstep, huffing about how much energy your lights were using up. You wonder if he took the time to chastise your other neighbors for their decorations, too.

It turned out that he was right, because the night before Christmas, every light in the neighborhood sputtered a weak final flicker and then gave out entirely, leaving the entire street shrouded in an empty, quiet darkness.

You’d been putting the finishing touches on your Christmas tree when it happened, tinsel clinging to your sweater in tiny strands of silver and gold. You swore under your breath and searched the house for enough candles and matches to light your home until the power came back on, hopefully sometime before the night was over.

This was not the Christmas surprise you were hoping for.

You’d just gotten your candles set up when Joel Miller appeared on your porch, a tightlipped frown pulling at the corners of his mouth.

“I told you,” he says as soon as you open the door. “All these damn lights – it’s just too much.”

“You came over here just to tell me that you were right?”

He rubs a hand over his brow and sighs. “No, I just- I warned you that this would happen, y’know.”

A bitter chill sweeps through the doorway, causing you both to shiver from the sudden cold. Without any power, you doubt your house will stay warm very long, and you made a mental note to grab a jacket as soon as Joel leaves.

“I know you think I’m just here to nag but… really, I wanted to make sure you were alright.”

“Oh.”

You’d butted heads with your neighbor more times than you could count, so his sudden interest in your wellbeing comes as a surprise. A warmth creeps up your neck when you picture him trekking across the street in this weather just to check that you were okay.

“M’fine,” you shrug and flex your fingers where they rest on the doorknob. “Just a bit spooked, I guess.”

Maybe it’s some unseen force of festive generosity, or maybe you’re moved by his unexpected kindness, but a little voice in your head calls you to speak before you fully understand what you’re asking. “Would you wanna come in for a little while? Just until the power comes back on.”

Joel furrows his brow in question but eventually nods, another unexpected twist in your evening.

“Sure, I’d like that.”

You’re not sure who’s more surprised by his answer, but you move to let him inside and he offers a half-hearted smile as he passes through the doorway.

“Are you sure this is alright? I don’t want to intrude.”

He brushes the fallen snow from his messy curls and leans down to unlace his boots, already making himself comfortable before you can respond.

“Of course. I’ll light some candles so it’s not so dark in here.”

You flit past him in the direction of the living room and Joel pauses in the foyer to remove his heavy winter coat. Your own jacket hangs on a hook by the door, and as Joel sheds his own outer layers, he thinks about how complete the scene looks with his coat and flannel hanging in the empty spot next to yours.

He shakes the thought from his head and shuffles blindly in the direction you’d disappeared in, rounding the corner to find a handful of lit candles flickering idly in every corner of your living room. A blend of vanilla and cinnamon and something he can’t name fills his chest with a distinctly nostalgic warmth, a feeling he’s been searching for longer than he can remember.

“I guess the whole neighborhood’s gone dark, huh?”

He nods once before he remembers that you can’t see him, responding with a clipped ‘yeah’ that feels too harsh for this intimate setting.

“I- uh,” he clears his throat, rocking on the soles of his feet to ease his stiff posture. “I wanted to check with you first, but I assume it’s the same problem all the way down the block.”

You tilt your head in thought, replaying his words to make sure you’d heard him right. “You came here first?”

“Well, yeah” he says, as if you should’ve been expecting his answer. “I wanted to see that you were okay.”

A stretch of silence follows his admission, and he wonders if you’d somehow left the room without him knowing. Instead, he’s shocked to find you suddenly in front of him, placing a hand on his arm with a gentle touch that makes him shudder. “Joel, that’s so sweet.”

He shrugs indifferently, though he’s grateful that the low light of the burning candles hides the reddening of his cheeks. “Just knew you were alone, that’s all.”

You’re almost fooled by his impassive response, but there’s an unfamiliar waver in his voice, a telltale sign that there was more to be said. You’d ignore it for now, but you hoped to revisit his sentiment again some other time.

“So you came to celebrate with me, then?” you tease, enjoying this new tender side of the man you’d once thought to be incapable of softness.

He scoffs and shakes his head, though he doesn’t pull away when you sidle up against him. ‘Course not. Just being a good neighbor.”

You’re about to respond when Joel leans down and presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth before turning away to disguise his sheepish grin. He’s happy that you could see past his high walls, even if he’s not ready to admit it.

“Whatever the reason, I’m glad you came over,” you tell him, content expression warmed by the weak orange flicker of the candlelight. Maybe he’s not such a Grinch after all.

#pedrostoriesgift23 #pedrostories #the last of us #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fluff #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #the last of us x reader #the last of us x you #the last of us fluff #tlou #tlou fluff #tlou x reader #christmas fic #christmas fluff

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toointojoelmiller · 4 months

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Joel Miller's furrowed brow ™️ for @probssomethingorother

#he does this basically all the time I will def do a part 2 lmao #joel millerisms #joel miller #grumpy old man #pedro pascal #tlou gifs #the last of us hbo #the more wrinkles on this gorgeous face the better tbh #all i want is for Christmas is Joel to look at me like this

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boliv-jenta · 5 months

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#christmas wish list #din djarin #joel miller #dave york #javier peña #javi g #dieter bravo #jack daniels #ect

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punkshort · 5 months

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Hallmark Christmas movie Joel Miller is rotting my brain. I hope there's some interest in reading a fluffy/smutty/cheesy story that may or may not end up being two or three parts because I need it out of my head or I'll go insane.

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #Joel miller Christmas #hallmark #hallmark christmas movies

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tightjeansjavi · 4 months

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🎀 Unwrap Me 🎀

A blue jeans n’Texas dreams Christmas special 🤍

A/N: Merry Christmas, you filthy animals 🥵

~word count: 2.6k~

Pairing | horse dad!joel x f! reader

Summary: it's your first Christmas with your boyfriend, Joel Miller

Warnings: smut, fluff,soo much love between these two, so much kissing and soft touching, mentions of Christmas, unprotected piv, oral (f receiving) dirty talk, praise kink, teasing, sex by the fire, no age gap, pre!outbreak/no!outbreak Joel, soft! joel,horse dad!joel, boyfriend!joel, Ellie and Sarah exist in this universe, reader has no physical descriptions such as skin color or body type, +18 minors dni!

It’s Christmas Eve, your first Christmas spent with your Texas Tall Glass of water. A lot has changed between you and him since Fourth of July weekend. You had gradually moved your life into Joel’s. It had started off with sleepovers, more shared memories at the breakfast table that had become a part of your routine norm. Dinners, movie nights, date nights, driving Sarah to school. You and Joel were nervous that the transition period of living together would sour, but when you love someone, you communicate and make the appropriate adjustments so that you and your partner can both be happy.

So when you suggested separate rooms so that Joel could have his own private space, and you could have yours, he quickly realized there were more pros to this arrangement than cons. Plus, it created a healthy boundary, and the level of intimacy you shared together was heightened as a result. Who doesn’t love having sleepovers with your Texas Tall Glass of water? They were so fun.

You were becoming the definition of a happy family, and this Christmas was special for all of you, but especially Ellie and Sarah who were officially sisters. The adoption process went smoothly back in August, and Ellie finally knew what it was like to have a real family who loved her unconditionally.

The month of December flew by in a blur and you and Joel found yourself wrapping gifts last minute because everything had to be perfect for the baby girls. Joel was beaming with excitement despite the amount of times he had accidentally gotten a paper cut from the damn wrapping paper, or a piece of tape got caught on the table, or his ribbons didn’t turn out the way he had planned. But thank goodness you were there to help him with those gentle hands of yours. He watched in pure adoration while you fluffed up one of his ribbons before setting the wrapped gift under the tree.

You were both wearing matching plaid Christmas pajamas, working side by side while It’s A Wonderful Life played on the nearby tv.

You only stopped your shared wrapping duties when the scene where George Bailey and Mary Hatch were dancing together, having fun and being carefree.

Joel tossed the tape to the side before he gently grabbed your hands and playfully pulled you in front of the tv. He dropped one hand to your lower back, pulling you flush against his sweater clad chest. You danced in front of the tv like two fools that were madly in love, and by god were you in love with this man.

It wasn’t long before he was kissing you by the fireside, easing you onto your back and only departing from your lips to grab a few pillows and a blanket from the couch so he could create a little love nest for you and him to fuck on. It couldn’t be anymore romantic. A crackling fire, glittering lights on the Christmas tree that Joel chopped down with his own hands. (What a sight that was)

His lips and hot breath kissing your skin, fingertips dancing, sweaters being thrown carelessly so you could feel one another more easily. Always needing that skin to skin contact. The thick drag of his cock stretching you open, the gentle roll of his hips, a strong arm wrapped around you, holding you close. Calloused fingertips brushing your chin, easing your head back so you can meet his lips in a dance once more.

He licks into your mouth, hot, shuddered breaths of mutual pleasure. His beard tickles your skin as you feel yourself consumed with all of him. Eyes rolling back, dumb smiles planted on your lovesick faces each time he fucks into you with that steady rhythm of his.

You draw one another in closer to your peaks, praises tumbling from your lips, toes curling, his thumb strokes your clit with his own neediness to feel your clenching pussy milk him dry as he spills into you, hips stuttering, moans muffled by a bruising kiss.

He softens inside of you, fingertips dragging across your navel, drawing patterns against sweat stained skin.

Another kiss treasured before he slowly pulls his hips back, softened cock slipping out, glistening under the warm glow of the fire in yours and his come.

He leans over, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “hot chocolate or tea before round two?” He drawls warm and deep, that raspy post-sex voice of his sending another gush of arousal between your come painted thighs.

“Hot chocolate..splash of Bailey’s?” You hum, reaching for his jaw, pulling him back in for another kiss.

“I like your thinkin’, sugar.” You can taste his boyish grin on your tongue before he departs to the kitchen.

Your Texas Tall Glass of water has gained so much confidence in himself these past few months that he’s shared with you. You’ve always been there to gently remind him that he’s a good man, a good father. That it’s okay to be hurt sometimes and that his feelings are valid. That you’ll always be there to listen, to guide him because he’s done the same for you. He’s taught you what he knows best, filling your brain with his knowledge of contracting, showing you the ropes of his skill.

and in turn you have taught him everything you know about horses and in those short few months, Joel has found himself fully immersed in your world. The business of Dream Riders has significantly grown, and your little herd of six horses has since doubled, and Joel was there with you every step of the way. Javi P, the chestnut, antsy OTTB unlearned his hatred of men through Joel, and you never thought you’d see the day.

The quiet and reserved rescued mustang named Din has found himself a place in the herd with his little donkey friend, Grogu always at his heels.

In the low kitchen light, Joel finds himself thinking of his future with you by his side as he tops the steaming mugs of hot chocolate off with a few marshmallows. Meeting you was one of the best things that had ever happened to him outside the birth of his daughter. He really wasn’t one to believe in all that mumbo jumbo about soulmates, but here he was, smiling dumbly out the kitchen window because maybe they did exist; soulmates and all that.

He heard your sweet voice travel to his ears from where he stood, missing his presence already. The thought sent his heart swelling up like a balloon.

He found you sprawled out in the love nest he built, with only the blanket to cover your modesty. Your eyes drifted upwards, glistening from the glow of the fire, hand outstretched in his direction because you really did miss him for those short few minutes apart.

“Sorry, honey bun. Was jus’ addin’ a few marshmallows s’all.” He crouched down, setting his mug off to the side before he handed you yours, leaning down to steal a quick kiss before he made himself comfortable in the love nest once more with his legs comforting laid out near the fire.

Your hot chocolates were enjoyed in a comfortable silence as the fire continued to crackle.

He rested his weight back on his elbows while you found your head resting in his lap, fingertips tracing patterns along his bare thigh.

“Do you..think we got them enough gifts? Can’t believe how expensive a damn PlayStation costs.” He chuckled, shaking his head with a grin.

“Oh, I think we got them plenty of gifts, cowboy. I just can’t wait to see Ellie’s face when she opens up the PlayStation, and when Sarah sees the new custom tack set I got for her and Frankie?” You said softly, leaning into his touch when the warm expanse of his large hand came to rest along the exposed skin of your lower back, fingertips brushing the curve of your ass beneath the blanket.

“I’m gonna tear up just thinkin’ about seein’ their faces in the mornin.’”

“You stop that right now, baby. Cause if you start, then I’m gonna start too.” You giggled softly pressing your cheek further against the warm expanse of his thigh. “I hope you love what I got you, Joel.”

“Baby, I already got everything I want right here. What more can a man ask for than two loving daughters, and the most wonderful, gentle, loving woman by his side?”

“You’re such a sap, Joel. Who could have been the cause of that?” You teased playfully.

“Dunno. Who could it be? Hmm..let’s see here..perhaps it's the stunning gal laying fireside with my come still drippin’ between her thighs? Ring any bells for ya?” He chuckled, slowly letting his fingertips dip lower between your cheeks, dragging his fingers through the seam of your pussy.

Your thighs instinctively parted open so his fingers would have easier access while your own traced dangerously close to his hardening cock between his thighs. It didn’t take much for either of you to get going again.

“Ooh, look who’s being vulgar right before Santa’s gonna come right down the chimney. That kinda talk is gonna get you on the naughty list, cowboy.”

He chuckled, eyes drifting downwards to where your cheek was still resting against his thigh before they traveled across your bare spine, down to your lower back and between your thighs where his fingers were lightly teasing you. “Mmm..well, sugar, your Texas Tall Glass of water has been on the naughty list for years. Say, you think Santa would mind if I unwrapped my gift early? Think he’ll still bring me coal?”

You fought the warmth rising to your cheeks from the filth dripping so casually between his lips. However, you didn’t fight the crawling desire to feel his touch a bit more as you slowly rolled your ass back into the expanse of his hand. “Baby, didn’t you already unwrap your gift earlier?”

“Sure did. But I think I wanna unwrap it a little more..gotta make it count, y’know? And what better way to ring in Christmas than to pull a couple more orgasms outta my girl. Remember over the summer, when I went down on your sweet cunt for the first time? Do’ya remember what I told ya, sweet girl?” He shifted his weight, easing your cheek off his thigh so he could face you fully. His hand left the spot between your thighs only to then gently coax you on your back. He was attentive to fixing the pillows behind you so that you were nice and comfy.

“Fuck..you naughty, naughty man. I lost track of how many you’ve given to me today, baby. We’ve surpassed the three to four times a day already, Joel.” You giggled, thighs falling open so he could see just for himself how aroused you were just from his teasing alone.

“What can I say, baby. Now that we’re livin’ under the same roof..you can’t expect me to not be touchin’ ya every second that I get. Fuckin’ addictive is what you are. You and that sweet fuckin’ pussy between those thighs.” His voice dropped an octave as he lowered himself onto his elbows, looping his arms around your middle, yanking you down gently so that you were closer to his face. “Christ, all this dirty talk got you this wet?” He peered up at you through thick lashes. “Still sticky with my come..fuck.” He whispered, hot breath fanning your core, “what a sight that is.”

A whine crawled up your throat as the broad expanse of his nose brushed against your inner thighs, dancing across your neglected clit and settling against your pubic bone. “What was it that I called it? Oh, right, the Joel Miller pussy eating special..” he chuckled, sending vibrations racing straight through your core and down to the tips of your toes. You found yourself fisting the blanket in one hand, and the other tangling through his soft head of curls. His hair had grown longer, and now was curling at the nape of his neck. You already threatened him to never cut it because there was nothing you loved more than ripping his baseball cap off at the end of a long work day, and running your fingers through his sweat stained curls while you rode his cock.

“Fuck, yeah, of course I remember that, baby. You literally sent me into a whole new world after that..” you rolled your hips towards his face, desperate to feel his mouth already while your nails lightly scraped at his scalp. “Well, if you’ve been such a naughty boy as you’ve claimed to be, why don’t you unwrap your present a little more, cowboy.”

He had that glint in his eye, one that sent your pussy pulsing desperately around nothing because goddamn Joel Miller and his big brown eyes, and his ridiculously large hands, and his Texas twang, and the way he loved you unconditionally. That goddamn Texas Tall Glass of water that stumbled upon your website all those months ago seeing your pretty face, bright smile and your arm wrapped around your horse's neck in a hug.

“You most certainly don’t have to ask me twice, sugar plum.” Was all he said before you felt his lips press an open mouthed kiss to your clit, dragging downwards as he tasted yours and his come along his tongue. He drove his face forward, one hand splayed across your stomach and the other clasped around your thigh as he devoured his favorite meal. He unwrapped you like the pretty bow you were with his tongue. Jaw going slack as he suckled your clit into his mouth. His eyes were locked on your face, the way your lips parted when he swirled his tongue in a figure eight motion.

He watched the way your chest rose and fell, head tossed back wildly, thighs quivering around his head, clawing at the blanket, tugging on the roots of his dark hair. His hand dropped from your stomach only to find your own. He laced his fingers through yours, squeezing your hand tight before he brought them to rest along your stomach.

He mumbled praising words against your ruined cunt. I love you, I adore you, I cherish you. My girl. My girl. My sweet filthy girl.

The coil was pulled tight inside of you, so tight you were seeing stars as you struggled to keep your moans quiet, but your Texas Tall Glass of water made it increasingly difficult to hold them at bay.

He drank you in, drop by drop, savoring the taste of you along his tongue before he finally let you breathe. And there was your man again, lips, chin, and beard coated in your slick as he nipped playfully at your thigh. His hand that wasn’t wrapped around yours, rubbed soothing circles into your skin as he kissed his way up your body to finally meet your lips once more.

You lazily kissed one another knowing that you had all the time in the world together and that nothing had to be rushed. But especially now, here in one another’s arms while you reached between your bodies, hand wrapping around the base of his cock so you could slip him right back in, guiding him home.

His head came to rest along your chest, eyes closed in a peaceful bliss while you gently pushed back his sweat stained curls that were sticking to his forehead. A tender sweep of your lips across his temple followed.

“I sure hope that Santa comes down that chimney soon just so he can see what a naughty, naughty, boy I’ve been this Christmas.” Your Texas Tall Glass of water murmured against your skin before visions of sugar plums and you would dance in his head.

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yeollie-plz · 5 months

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12 Days Of Pedromas ‘23

Starting December 14th, I am going to be doing a post everyday until Christmas to celebrate Pedro and the holiday season!

Extra info here!

Day One: Hate sex with Costar! Pedro Pascal

Day Two: Virgin! Reader x dbf! Joel Miller

Day Three: 3some with Frankie Morales and a special guest

Day Four: Phone sex with Pedro Pascal

Day Five: Wedding night and breeding kink with Joel Miller

Day Six: Cockwarming with Din Djarin

Day Seven: Pool Sex with Exhibitionist! Agent Whiskey

Day Eight: Lactation Kink! Joel Miller

Day Nine: Stripper! Reader x Javier Pena

Day Ten: Pegging with Oberyn Martell

Day Eleven: One night stand with Frankie Morales

Day Twelve: Rough sex with Din Djarin

Make sure to keep an eye out for all the posts and enjoy reading! 😉

Main Pedro Masterlist

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joels6string · 1 year

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Home For Christmas

Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Joel senses your morose as December 25th approaches and sets out to make the holiday special.

Rating: T

Word Count: 948

Content: Christmas fluff, Joel trying his best, some folks call this thing here a gee-tar

The winter mountain chill was ruthless. Its unforgiving bite fought through the heat of the fire burning in the hearth and held you hostage, your fingers trembling as you took the kettle off the stove and poured the still-bubbling water into your mug. Joel was visible from the window, wrapped in your scarf and his jacket, leather gloves gripping the handle of a shovel as he cleared the snow that had been dumped overnight, Ellie tossing snowballs at him every so often with a gleeful shriek.

You watched them as you sipped your tea, wanting to don your boots and join them but something was holding you back. A dark cloud that floated in this time of year as memories from decades past began to haunt you. Somehow the scene before you made it worse despite its pure, unhindered joy.

Christmas had always been your favorite time of year, the gifts, family, all the red and greens, golds and silvers, and it had all been ripped away. Your mood had begun to dampen at the start of December, only getting worse now in the week leading up to the day in question. Not even the decor of the town square was helping, so much was still missing.

“Mornin’, darlin’,” Joel greeted through numb lips, pressing them icily to your cheek, “S’just you and Ellie today, I’m headin’ out with Tommy to search the old resorts for supplies.”

All you gave him was a nod. They’d been up there countless times, how much could be left?

“How much more do you need, Joel?” Tommy griped as they entered the old ski lodge, Joel’s destination already in mind, “Christmas is in two days.”

“One more thing,” he replied, climbing over the rubble he’d memorized the quickest path through weeks ago, “Forgot it last time.”

“Your age is catchin’ up to you.”

“Watch it now…”

The trail back down the mountainside was slow, he was looking for something. Tommy searched alongside him, yelling out potential candidates all for Joel to shoot them down. No, this needed to be perfect.

“Maria still getting them for dinner?” Joel yelled over a gust of wind, “Reckon we got another hour before we need to head back.”

“Yeah, she is,” Tommy confirmed, “What about this one?”

You woke up to an empty bed on Christmas Eve, a heavy sigh slumping you back into your pillow as you stared at the mess of blankets beside you. Voices traveled up the stairs, Joel and what sounded like Tommy were bickering about something in your living room before the clock had struck 9 AM, at least Joel had taken care to close the door and allow you a late morning.

The smell of coffee hit your nose as you stepped out into the hallway, Joel’s flannel hanging loosely on your frame as you descended the steps.

“No, put it over here!” you heard Ellie yell, “So we can see it from the window!”

“Yeah, that’s good,” Joel agreed, out of breath and voice strained. What the hell were they doing?

With a furrowed brow you rounded into the living room, your jaw dropping as it came into view. Joel and Tommy were currently wrestling a pine tree into the left corner of the living room, right in front of the window, Ellie looking on as she directed the men to find the perfect spot. Boxes of decorations littered the furniture, and tangled strings of lights sat in piles around a free outlet, one still plugged in, its white lights glittering amidst the chaos.

“What is all this?” you asked quietly, Joel’s attention quickly snapping to you, a gentle grin settling on his face.

“What’s it look like?” he answered snarkily, abandoning Tommy who grunted at the newly added weight he was bearing to pull you into his chest.

For the first time in weeks, your smile sparkled into your eyes as you, Joel, and Ellie sifted through Joel’s collected decor, baubles and ornaments that had no pattern or reason joining the wooden beads and lights on the pine tree he’d found deep in the forests and cut down just yesterday. Ellie sat atop Joel’s shoulders to put the finishing touches on the tree, his forgotten star, the point almost touching the ceiling as they took a step back to marvel at the job well done.

As the sun began to set after dinner had been shared, Joel gathered everyone in the living room, his newest creation set against the couch ready for its maiden voyage. Words weren’t necessary as you gathered around the space, a fire roaring once again as the tree sparkled, Joel’s fingers beginning to strum lightly over the strings of his guitar. (Play me!🎸)

The familiar notes of “Silent Night” filled the room, not a note out of tune as he hummed along with it, Ellie’s head leaning against your shoulder as the light disappeared behind the mountains, only the flames and Christmas lights setting a warm glow across the room until he was done. Ellie excused herself when he finished, bidding you both a good night softly, gratitude heavy in her voice.

“Thank you,” you whimpered as Joel pulled you into his arms after flicking the TV on, the familiar opening scene of your favorite Christmas movie beginning to play.

“Merry Christmas, darlin’,” he cooed, never one for many words.

It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep, the steady thrum of his heart against your ear too strong to resist the effects of. You woke the next morning in your bed, his body pressed tightly behind you, arm slung around your waist, Ellie’s eager voice yelling up the stairs.

“It’s fucking Christmas!”

Joel Miller Masterlist

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fluff #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fic #the last of us fic #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller christmas

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morallyinept · 4 months

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O' CHRISTMAS TREE - A Post Outbreak Joel Miller Christmas One Shot

Summary: Joel chops down a fir tree and brings it home for you as a surprise.

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

Word Count: 3.5k

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

Check out my Scoville Smut Ratings here.

Wanings/triggers - Mentions of a previous illness, and descriptions of a panic attack. Other than that, you're safe.

NSFW. MINORS DNI! OVER 18’s ONLY. YOU ARE SOLELY RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU READ. ☝🏻Don’t come at me; you’ve been plenty warned.

If this story isn't for you, that's fine. Just slip quietly out the back door. No need to make a fuss. It's just a work of fiction.

Author’s Note: Just some Christmas fluff with Joel. Oh, how I love writing for him. 🥰

12 DAYS OF XXX-MAS MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

Enjoy & Happy Holidays! 🎄🖤

Joel steps out, pulling on thick, worn mittens over his hands. The suede has long since worn away down to a dulled shine, and the stitching frays in places.

The barren landscape stretches out before him; a pristine canvas of crisp white snow, interrupted only by the dark silhouettes of brackish trees in the distance.

The air is crisp and biting, with each breath forming a delicate mist that hangs in the stillness of the frozen air around his weathered face.

Picking up the axe, he throws the rope of the makeshift sled over his shoulder, and starts forward, ankle deep in the snow.

As he delves further towards the woodlands, the snow becomes deeper, up to his shins, as he trudges in some pockets where the ground slopes and dips, and the cold seeps through the layers he’s put on to stay warm.

Although he can’t feel his toes in his right foot, numbed out as the snow fills the hole in his boot that he’s taped over repeatedly. He makes a mental note to see if the commune can spare him a new pair when he visits next.

The snow, untouched and pure, sparkles under the soft bokeh of the winter sun, casting a mesmerising gleam of light across the expanse. Joel has to wince, the tears in his eyes from the biting cold misting and skewing his view.

Despite the sun, there is a gentle wind that bites through his bones. The trees, their branches heavy with snow, stand like sentinels; their skeletal forms adorned in nature's own powdery decoration.

The woods, not too far from the simple abode you both rusticate in, beckons with the promise of hidden treasures - a place where he hopes to find the perfect fir tree.

Each step requires continued effort, the snow reaching knee-height now in some places, but he presses on though the dull ache waking up in his lower back.

The quietude of the woods is broken only by the muffled crunch of his footsteps and the occasional creaking of snow-laden branches. It’s a world hushed by winter, as if nature itself is holding its breath in the awe of its own transformation.

And Joel can't help to be infected with a slight sense of it too.

He stills for a moment, listening out, relishing in a moment’s peace, for it’s rare for most of his life.

As he scours the woodlands for the perfect tree, the cold seems to intensify. The chill in the air bites at his exposed cheeks turning them pink like Braeburns, and he pulls his collar tighter, fumbling with it through the mittens.

Yet, the sight of the scraggly tree, standing resilient in the midst of the snow-covered landscape, fills him with a warmth that transcends the physical cold freezing his veins. It isn't the majestic evergreen he’d envisioned, but it has a certain charm.

He knows immediately you’d pick this one too. Slightly undergrown, on the slant and looking a little bit sorry for itself. You always had a soft spot for scragglers; he reasons it’s why you’ve put up with him for all this time.

Why you tolerate his grumpy moods and quiet brooding, even if he doesn’t mean to be. Scars run deep despite the thick, white skin pulled taught over the surface of them. You understand more about him in contemplative silence than Joel does himself sometimes.

Disappointment etches on his face, replacing the usually ingrained frown that resides there. The others are simply too large for him to even consider carrying. He curses himself inwardly for getting old.

A noise startles him from his reverie and he freezes. He drops the rope of the sled and reaches for his gun on his hip, listening out.

It’s been a long time since an infected has happened on you both here, nestled up in the Wyoming mountains. Secluded away in your own privacy, and safety, from the decaying world below you in the valleys and cities you've long since retreated from.

Retirement, you’d said to Joel with a wispy smile, as you’d both put the finishing touches to the long vacated cabin you'd claimed as your new home together.

A home, and that there in itself was something Joel still struggled to wrap his head around most days. How you could tolerate him loitering in your space constantly; how you wanted to share a space with him, as small and as simple as it was.

It was a fairly simple life, but you’d made it a home for the past nine months with your mutual talents at scavenging; planting your own vegetable garden and breeding some chickens; trading with Jackson when you needed to.

You had what you needed, and what you didn’t need, didn’t matter.

Joel listens out as the sound of silence is greeted back and he relaxes his grip on the gun nestled in his holster. He picks up the rope and carries on forward towards the tree, glancing around his surroundings with some alert still ingrained.

He dusts off the branches, clearing as much snow off the drooping ferns as he can before he raises the axe and chops at the trunk.

It warms him as he puffs; the ache in his back starts to burn as the tree topples forward and snaps.

With the tree lugged onto the sled - a task that takes him longer than he would like to admit - he turns to make the journey back; the snow seems to have deepened in his absence as he wades back through it.

The sun dips below the horizon, casting long shadows that stretch across the undisturbed snow. A melee of his footprints, the only evidence of its ruin.

The quietude of the approaching winter evening is almost palpable, broken only by the sound of his laborious steps, tired and husked breaths from his lungs, and the occasional whisper of the wind through the frost-kissed branches.

He wishes you could see this right now, he knows you’d love it; a picturesque snow globe.

But you're not quite ready for that yet, not quite better.

It’s been a while, a testing few weeks as the hideous fever took you over and left you completely bedridden. He’d been concerned when your body birthed a rash and seemed like it was spreading too fast to contain.

He still feels the tiredness hanging around his eyes from sleepless nights rubbing your back as you vomited up everything that was in your body. As you cried through the pain, bones aching with the slightest movement. As he watched you slowly wasting away when you couldn’t eat, despite him gently coaxing you.

His flannel shirt that you favoured to sleep in, once fit snugly around the curves of your body as you rode him in the mornings, now hangs off your skeleton revealing a collarbone too prominent for his liking.

You seem to be over the worst of it, or at least he hopes so, but it’s left you incredibly weak. Reliant on him to provide and take care of you, despite him assuring you that he would anyway, but he knows you relish your streak of independence.

Anything more than pottering around the cabin still leaves you breathless and sleepy.

He had Tommy send a doctor; practically ran down the valley and dragged him up himself to give you medicine and the once over. He stifled Joel's fears about it being something malignant, something terminal, but he knows it’s left a fissure somewhere that hasn’t quite sealed up yet.

You’re both getting on in age, and now that the world has gone to shit, advanced medicine isn’t a luxury anymore. He tries not to think about it. Tries not to go there as misty thoughts of what ifs travel back in time from the future to haunt him.

The cold, though biting, is accompanied by a sense of some brief clarity. It’s a world in hibernation, patiently awaiting the rebirth that spring will bring with it.

He wheezes as he pulls the sled behind him, feeling heavier on the incline back towards the cabin. As he trudges back home, dragging the piss poor excuse for a tree behind him, he can't shake a tiny, blooming worry that it might not be enough.

The weight of your recent illness has hung heavy on his shoulders and he desperately wants to see you smile again, to hear you laugh instead of crying and retching, if but for his own selfish need.

It feels like this winter will never end and Joel is yearning for the sun once more.

Entering the small dwelling, a modest refuge from the harsh outside world that you've both made your own, Joel carefully sets up the tree in a corner.

Its scraggly branches seem to stretch towards the warmth of the fireplace he lights afterwards, tossing logs on there he’d chopped the day before, eager to fill the room in spreading the warmth and some holiday cheer.

Determined to make the best of it, he reaches into his bag, hidden for weeks out of your curious eyes, craftily stashed under the faded rug beneath some loose wooden slats in the floor.

He leaves the shotgun and the cartridges safe in there, thankful that they've not been needed in quite some time.

Opening the bag, it reveals a collection of old baubles mixed in sizes and style, and a foray of tinsels - precious survivors from a world that has faced a devastating end to some traditions. They're worn and weathered, each telling a story of resilience through the passage of time.

The dim light from the fireplace casts shadows upon his broad back, the sounds of the flames snapping are a gentle rhythm he loses himself to as he sorts the baubles on the table, discarding any that are broken and sharp.

He hears a creak and turns to see you making your way down the stairs slowly with your arms wrapped around yourself.

He immediately fetches the blanket from the sofa and wraps it around your hunched shoulders.

You smile softly at him as he places a kiss on your forehead.

“Your lips are cold,” you say dreamily.

“S’cold out.” Joel confirms with a chapped smile. “Ya feelin’ alright, should ya be up?”

You nod timidly as you step down the last step. “Don’t fuss, I feel okay.”

He wraps an arm around you and guides you towards the sofa, but you stop when you notice the decorations sparkling on the table.

“What's this?” You query as you run a shaky finger over the coarse glitter on a large bauble.

Blushing, he turns you gently to face the tree in the corner, and you gasp.

“Thought we could decorate it together, if ya up to it?” He mumbles.

“Joel…” You sigh, warmly. "You did all this for me?" A fragile smile plays on your lips.

He nods, the lump in his throat making it difficult to speak. "Wanted to bring a bit of Christmas, 'specially for ya, darlin’."

Tears well in your eyes as you approach the tree, fingering the tendrils of the ferns with a tenderness that speaks volumes to Joel as he observes you.

“A fledgling,” you praise with a croak.

In that moment, the imperfections of the scraggly tree and the worn decorations soon to be adorned on it are forgotten. What matters is the resilience of its growth, that no matter how small it is, it can still seed into something uniquely beautiful.

The harsh realities of your pasts fade away, if only for a moment. The wonky, if but humble, Christmas tree, stands as a symbol of both of your endurance, and Joel feels that same sentiment radiate off of you as he steps towards you, and holds out an ornament.

You look down at it in your hands; a pearlescent Santa with a faded red smile and the bobbling on his hat has long since been torn off, just a single tuft of dirty fluff lingers in it's place.

"It's perfect. More than perfect.” You say in awe. “I didn't think we could have something like this again."

“It’s nothin’, darlin’.”

A quiet moment passes as you stand together, taking in the sight of the tree that now holds a profound significance. You lean against him as he wraps the blanket further over your shoulders, a mixture of emotions playing on your face.

"No. It’s everything, Joel. You've turned something ordinary into something extraordinary," you say, your voice filling with gratitude. "You're so sneaky," you smile.

He kisses the top of your head, his own eyes moist. "I wanted to make it special for ya."

“You did. Thank you for this.” You beam up at him.

You lean forward and hang the little Santa ornament on the tree, adjusting it carefully, as he passes you another.

Your hands move with a gentle grace, each ornament finding its place on the tree like a puzzle piece completing a picture.

He watches as you caress and admire each decoration; the memories they hold unfolding in the quiet of your mind, their origin and magic.

The flickering firelight casts a warm glow on your face, illuminating the etched in lines of your worn expression for so long. He feels it warm him, your joy; the fire is secondary as he observes you with a new lightness to his aching, splintered body.

Joel marvels at your resilience, the way you move with purpose, despite the weariness that lingers in your bones still. The blanket swamps you and eventually you discard it, warming from the heat of the fire.

He folds it, keeping it close by in case you should need it.

As the last ornament finds its place, you step back, admiring your creation, a quiet acknowledgment of the beauty Joel has coaxed from the woods.

You feel him lead you backwards into the soft warmth of his lap as he settles on the patchwork sofa with you, and you nestle close inside his arms. You both spend time ruminating in the comfort of silence.

He gazes at you with a soft tenderness on his features reserved only for you that transcends verbal words. Your eyes, heavy with the weight of your lingering illness that is taking it's time to shift fully, flicker with the remnants of exhaustion.

He tightens his embrace, as if trying to shield you from the shadows that threaten to encroach on your haven of warmth as the wintry afternoon delves into an inky twilight.

“Sleep, if ya need to. M’right here.” He says, shuffling the blanket over your shoulders once more and you curl further into his chest. “I’ll make ya some soup in a bit.”

“Mm,” you nod gently against him, the sound of his steadying heartbeat in your ear sending you off slowly into a stunted sleep.

You glance at the tree as you close your eyes, vacant of lights due to no electricity, but it’s perfect as it is; glittering brightly nonetheless as the fire makes the tinsel twinkle.

As your body weighs against him as you drift off, the worry on his own face seems to momentarily lift, replaced by a sense of gratitude for the moments like this that you still have together.

He tries to disguise the tremble of his hands as he rubs gently up and down your back, remnants of his fear still taking their time to vacate his body.

He sits there, cradling you in his arms, watching the scraggly tree stand proud and buoyant, no longer a runt deprived of growth, over your shared, quiet sanctuary.

The worries of the outside world fade, and in that intimate cocoon, Joel finds some solace in the simplicity of being present with the person he loves most. The person who he'd go to the ends of the earth for.

He wrestles with the fear that lingers in the corners of his mind - the fear of losing you, and realises this back and forth with it is not appeasing any of the angst that festers under the skin in pustules.

He wills his mind to settle, to not keep steering through the choppy seas of scenarios that haven't birthed into any fruition. But it’s futile, Joel is a thinker. Sometimes an overthinker, much to his detriment.

And in these quiet spheres - where he has nothing else to calm those turbulent oceans - he drowns in them, wholly.

The fear of you dying was a spectre that loomed over him like a dark cloud, casting a shadow over every moment you’d shared. It was a fear that gripped his heart with a cold, merciless hand, whispering doubts and anxieties in the quiet recesses of his mind.

The mere thought of a future without you sends shivers down his spine; a visceral ache that seems to resonate in agony through every fibre of his being.

It wasn't just the fear of loneliness or the void your absence would leave, but the profound emptiness that would echo through the spaces you had once filled together. Imagining a world where your laughter no longer echoed in the room, where the soft cadence of your voice ceased to grace his ears, was a thought too painful to fully comprehend, and he can feel it constrict in his heart as it freezes the breath around his teeth.

The prospect of waking up to a reality without the warmth of your body pressed tight against his, is a dread that haunts his every waking moment, only made more prominently so since you'd gotten sick.

The fear manifests as a silent companion, an unspoken acknowledgment of the fragility of life pounding into his chest.

He raises a hand to it, letting you slip out of his grip for a moment as he wills himself to swim through it, wills himself to calm down. To breathe.

You stir gently against him, the loss of the warmth of his arm pulling you out perhaps, as you glance up at him with sleepy eyes. The pain in his eyes, the strain on his face, rouses you upright and clutching at him.

He can see your lips moving, but he can’t hear you through the white noise that thunders through his good ear. He knows you’ll be telling him to breathe, to focus on your voice and your touch, even if the other voices tell him to stop fighting, to just drown.

Your thumbs stoke across the side of his face, your eyes boring deeper into him to pull him out.

You reach in and you pull him out.

A choked gasp at the back of his throat lets you know you succeeded as he comes back to you, leaving the ice waters of his inward terror to solidly freeze over again.

The fear is always a haunting presence, but so, too, is the love that binds him to you.

“Joel, come back to me,” you coax softly as his hands find their way over yours and fingers interlock tightly.

He buries his head in your chest as you wrap around him; absorbing his warmth, feeling the sweat matting the greying curls on the back of his neck.

Breathing the faint spices of him in; the smell of homemade soap, chicken stew, polished leather. You kiss his crown and he kisses your neck, arms clamped firmly around your lower back.

He glances over your shoulder, not able to meet your eyes yet and you give him time to find his way back to them though the self-inflicted shame he feels the need to flagellate himself with anytime a panic grips him tight. Despite your reassurances that he shouldn’t.

So you hold him, sitting in his lap and pull the blanket around you both and rub his shoulders as his chin rests on yours.

He eyes the Christmas tree and remembers, remembers you decorating it as his eyes settle on the little Santa ornament as he squeezes you tight.

“Ya hungry, darlin’?” he asks a little while later, his teeth clashing together as his chin stays firmly put.

“Yeah,” you confirm, continuing stroking.

Continuing to soothe the broadness of him, the strength of him. He’s so strong for you, so domineering in his stacked presence but like this, he’s a tiny mouse in your hands, terrified that you could crush him if you squeeze too tightly.

A few minutes later and he’s up after cracking out his back, lighting the stove and pouring soup into a pan to heat. He’s slicing into a loaf of bread he’d baked earlier in the week and you watch him from the confines of the sofa, where he’s instructed you to stay when you offer help, watching him as he tends to you.

But you do squeeze him tightly, you always will. He's yours to hold and squeeze and grip tight as you hold each other up in this world.

And you know you’ll both do it until your last breath departs each of you.

Joel takes a moment, whilst the soup is cooking, to glance back at you and he sees you up on your feet fingering the tree, readjusting and tweaking, and he smiles gently.

You made it through; you're still here with him despite the nightmares and thoughts trying to cut into that blissful relief. And he allows himself to finally breathe that relief in.

You turn back and smile at him; a full joyous grin thrown at him that he’s missed seeing so much as of late. It sparkles at him, flashes brighter than the tree.

And that, right there, is the best Christmas gift that Joel Miller can ever wish for.

12 DAYS OF XXX-MAS MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

#pedro pascal x reader #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #joel miller #pedro pascal characters #joel miller x gn!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller tlou #the last of us fic #the last of us #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #christmas stories #jett's writing

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