#joel the last of us
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Save A Horse, Yadda Yadda…
pairing: Joel Miller x reader
summary: you find yourself getting distracted by the man next to you. his thick fucking thighs always grabbed your attention
warnings: 18+, smut, thigh riding, slight degradation, bit of dirty talk, reader gets called a good girl, oral (f receiving) but literally for a second, use of pet names (honey, baby, sweetheart)- lemme know if i forgot anything
w.c.: 2k
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It was a relatively slow, easy day in Jackson. You had got caught up on house chores, which albeit, there wasn't much to do anyhow. Joel did patrol early in the morning and had the rest the day to wind down, and Ellie was hanging out with Dina.
Flipping through a book, only paying half-attention while you skimmed the pages, you caught yourself stealing glances at Joel who sat beside you on the floral printed couch. He whittled away at a block of wood, working on a new little side project with careful focus. The sound of a sharp blade gliding across the surface of each corner was the only thing that could be heard.
Perhaps that's what was distracting you.
Slow.
Or perhaps it was the way his biceps flexed under that shirt of his, or the way his veins seemed to protrude from the top of his hands and up his forearm with each thought out stroke.
Maybe it was also the way he was sitting with his legs spread, letting the wood shavings and chips fall to the floor that he always promises to 'clean up after.' How his thighs appeared thicker, meatier when he's sat like this in that pair of denim that you innocently, accidentally, shrank just a tad bit when you last did laundry.
Your own thighs clenched together.
Easy.
"Don't hurt yourself now." Joel's low voice brought you out of your stupor with a snap of your head, uttering a small noise of confusion.
"You're thinkin' too hard." Joel clarified, flicking his gaze to you briefly as he swiped another stray chip from his lap.
'Smartass.' You thought before letting out a soft hum in reply and lean back against the couch, closing your book and tossing it onto the coffee table.
There was a beat of silence. Your eyes trailed over Joel's body again, breath hitching with the image of his large, broad frame.
He seemed to have noticed the way you eyed him so hungrily while lost in your thoughts, his gaze following yours to his lap. With a smirk, Joel took the opportunity to spread his legs a bit wider, knee pressing against yours subtly.
You watched and squeeze your thighs together once more.
Gotcha.
"Hey," he murmured before setting his project down on the end table next to him. "What's goin' on in that pretty li'l head'a yours?"
“Nothing,” You answered, the side of your face turning up somewhat with a wince at how quickly you responded.
Joel scoffed and folded his arms over his chest and sat back, head tilting disbelievingly with a cock of his brow, “Yeah? So y’ain’t starin’ at me like some piece’a meat?”
You rubbed at your nose as you felt the all-too-familiar warmth of embarrassment kiss at your face, but you couldn’t deny it. Joel had meat for days under all that clothing. So thick, and big, and-
“Lookit ya! You’re still doin’ it.” Joel gestured a hand towards you, brows drawing together with a shake of his head.
“Am not!”
“Bullshit!”
He turned his head and scratched at his chin, nails scraping the graying facial hair before he looked over at you again. His eyes trailed you up and down, and with a sigh he grabbed at your hips, eliciting a surprised yelp from you, and settled you onto his lap.
“What’re you doing?” You asked, instinctively placing your hands on his shoulders for stability.
“It’s not what I’m doin’,” he muttered and hooked a hand in the bend of your knee, gently making you spread a bit wider, “It’s what you’re doin’.”
Your brows furrowed this time, nose scrunching with confusion. You part your lips to speak, to ask what the hell he’s talking about, but that all quickly went down the drain the moment he had you roll forward.
A soft moan replaced all words instead, your eyes fluttering shut as you ground against him.
“Mhm,” Joel noised, watching you with a stoic mask. “ ‘S’what I thought.”
He kept force-rocking your body, arms flexing and grip tightening.
Back and forth, back and forth.
“Joel,” You panted, eyes screwing shut with a fall of your head.
“Hm? That feel good, baby?” He cooed, voice mockingly sweet. You nod and he watched with a smug look plastered on his face. “Yeah, poor thing jus’ wanted some attention, huh?”
Joel’s cock began to twitch inside his already-too-tight pants- which, by the way, he knew for a fact was your doing- and he unclasped his belt skillfully with one hand, undoing the button and lowered the fly.
“You’re gonna ride my thigh,” He instructed, pulling out his half-hard length from his briefs, “an’ I’ll think about lettin’ ya cum.” His other hand slid down from your hip and to your knee, giving a light squeeze.
Your eyes snapped open. What the fuck does he mean, ‘I’ll think about it’?
“Aht!” He could see the disapproval etched on your features, the way your brain was racking up some counter argument. “Don’t wanna hear it. Y’already lied twice t’me now; so excuse me for not playin’ nice.”
Joel swiped a tongue over his bottom lip before giving his cock a tug, “An’ I think I’m bein’ awfully fuckin’ generous lettin’ you hump my leg like a damn bitch in heat.” His voice was low, almost inaudible as he narrowed his eyes.
With a huff of air, you continue rolling your hips, forward and down. Then you tried moving side-to-side, chasing after a high that wasn’t there. Your body slowed before stilling completely and take in a sharp, frustrated breath.
“I didn’t say stop,” Joel gruffly spoke, eyes piercing into your skull.
“I’m not getting anywhere, Joel,” You complained before letting your head slump into the crook of his neck. What was once a pleasurable feeling, dry-humping his thigh, got uncomfortable fairly quickly with the way the seam from your jeans dug into you.
“Kinda the point, ain’t it?” The man retorted and tilt his head down to take a look at the pitiful frown on your lips. He chewed at the inside of his cheek for a moment, feeling his heart soften. Joel was mean, sure, but he wasn’t evil.
Finally, Joel conceded and tapped at your leg, “Alright, get up.”
He held your hands to spot you as you slid off his lap, back to your feet. Then his large fingers worked to get your pants off, helping you shimmy out of the denim. Joel gazed at your lower figure fondly, a faint smile creeping on his face as he hooked his finger into your panties, swiftly tugging them down. The man let out a low whistle at the sight of your slick-coated folds, then leaned in, tongue seeking out your entrance briefly before swiping back up to your clit. Your breathing hitched, legs twitching at the new pleasure making your stomach burn hot, then he pulled away again, not before leaving a delicate kiss under your navel.
“Come on back, honey,” Joel’s voice eased from his stern tone, now more gentle and loving. He guided you back over his thigh and closed a fist around the head of his dick once more. A shudder ran up your spine as your lips came in contact with the fabric of his pants, your arousal already soaking the denim. Before you could start moving again, he gripped your chin in his free hand, lightly squeezing to make your lips part and directed them over his length. “Spit.”
Complying willingly, you let saliva gather in your mouth and drooled all over the head and top of his fingers.
“Good girl,” Joel praised lowly and began stroking himself. “Go ‘head, sweetheart.”
Once you got the green light, your hips shifted tentatively before falling into an easy rhythm. An airy sigh pushed past your lips in content as your head fell back into place on Joel’s shoulder. A hand came up to hold it in place, fingers carding through your hair.
“That’s it, baby, jus’ like that.” He murmured, fist tightening around his dick as he watched you greedily get yourself off. Moans and grunts and breathy exhales sounded through the room, along with the wet smacking of Joel’s cock gliding through his hand.
“Actin’ like such a needy slut,” Joel commented, lip curling into a snarl before a low chuckle rumbled in his chest. “Can’t go two seconds without makin’ a mess’a yourself.” The way Joel went back and forth from degrading to loving then back damn near gave you whiplash.
You mewl into his shirt and clench around air, hips picking up speed while you gripped his bicep. Joel’s thigh was damp with your arousal, the warmth seeping into the fabric and vaguely hitting his skin.
“Or a mess’a me,” He added with a pleased glint in his eyes. You felt his body shake with each passing stroke of his fist. The fact he was getting off to you getting off on him made you shiver with delight. Heat began to build up in your core, stomach fluttering and tightening while goosebumps erupted across your body. You lift your head from his shoulder and crash your lips against his messily; teeth closing, tongues swirling.
You retreat, just enough to speak, “Joel,” the pitch of your voice raised in warning, hips stuttering as your forehead rest against his.
“No,” He denied flatly.
“Joel,” You repeated. Pathetically, Joel thought.
“Gotta learn your lesson somehow,” he countered with an unbothered face, tone lacking sympathy. “If ya wanted some lovin’ y’know ta ask. I’ll take care’a ya.” His own breathing hitched as his thumb swiped over his slit, wiping precum down the underside of his shaft as that close feeling creeped up on him as well.
“But ya didn’t do that, didja? Then you lied-“
“I didn’t wan- fuck- didn’t wanna bother you,” You explained in a hurried slur of your words, throwing your head back while desperately trying to hold off on your orgasm.
Joel’s face softened, but just barely. His tongue clicked, gaze trailing down your neck and to your breasts that subtly bounced with each move of your lower body, then to your pussy gliding back and forth across his denim clad thigh.
Fuck it.
“Okay,” he breathed out with a curt nod and grasped your chin once more, leading you back to face him, “You’re gonna cum- but you’re gonna look at me when ya do, got it?”
You nod against his palm, brows curving inward as your eyelids flutter; the coil on the verge of releasing.
“Repeat it.”
A heavy sigh escaped your lungs, “I look at you wh-when I c- oh, fuck-“ Your eyes widened, cunt clenching as your body convulsed and writhed over top of him.
He smirked proudly when you couldn’t even finish your reply. Your slick spread further over his leg and he relished the feeling. “Good fuckin’ girl, that’s it.”
You continue to ride your high out, eyes never leaving Joel’s. His lips press against yours once more, tongue flicking over your bottom lip before pushing it in. Your hands came up to cradle his face while you swallowed down every single moan and grunt leaving Joel’s throat just as he spilled himself into his fist.
Breaths labored, chests heaving, and legs trembling. You break the kiss and smile down at him before planting a quick peck to the bridge of his nose, making him smile.
“I love you,” Joel whispered, wiping the mess off his fingers onto his pants. Eh, they needed to be cleaned anyways.
“I love you,” You say back. He lies down, pulling you on top as he catches his breath. “I’ll wash your jeans for you next time I do laundry.”
He hums softly, closing his eyes and slips his hand under your shirt, soothingly running his nails up and down your back, “Sounds good,” There was a beat, then, “Jus’ don’t shrink them any further.”
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thank you for reading <3 and thank you for all the love on my previous fics. for the longest time i never posted any of my stories to tumblr because i felt they weren’t “good enough” haha. it’s genuinely keeping me motivated to keep writing and hone my skill, so please feel free to keep reblogging and/or leaving a comment <3
#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel tlou#joel miller tlou#the last of us hbo#tlou#joel miller x you#pedro pascal#the last of us#joel miller the last of us#joel miller imagine#joel miller fanfic#joel miller smut#joel x reader#joel the last of us#tlou hbo#tlou fanfiction#the last of us fanfiction
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mini blurbs ─ ★ joel miller x f! reader
a/n: ngl. some of these are blurb sized blurbs but i was just too lazy to give them their own post 😇
wc: 992
warnings: 18+ MDNI, cum in pants, voyerism(?), dry humping, piv, blowjob
-> dbf!joel who gets invited to the family bbq/pool party only to lose his shit the second he sees you. he ends up (uncharacteristically) being the first person in the pool because there’s no other way to hide how hard he is.
you eventually feel bad, watching him float around the empty pool, and decide to join him.
so he has to touch himself while you’re talking to him. you’re so beautiful in the sunlight, your skin basically glowing. you’re just slightly sweating, letting joel’s imagination conjure up insane scenarios.
to top it all off, you start touching him. you notice his silence along with his sweaty and red face. you assume it’s the heat, pressing the back of your hand to his forehead then his cheek, and commenting on how hot he feels.
his hips repeatedly jerk towards you as he cums into the netting of his shorts. trying to keep his voice steady as he lets you know that he is perfectly fine.
-> dbf!joel who is disgustingly depraved. like he lurks around your room at night, sometimes just standing out in the hall to hear you moving around in there. you catch him spraying your perfume on his shirts on multiple occasions.
you don't technically know what he does with the shirts but you know that when your dad has him in the guest room, he thinks the walls are a lot thicker than they are.
-> finally convincing joel to send you a full body video of him cumming and he shocks you to your core when it’s just a video of him sitting back, full body in frame, his thick hairy thighs and huge arms grabbing your attention instantly. he’s looking directly at the camera as his cock bobs between his thighs, twitching and leaking everywhere for the camera before tensing up and spurting across his chest. joel’s head flies backwards as a deep groan rattles from his chest as he paints it white. he comes down with slow chants of “oh baby-” and "fuck, sweetheart." before going silent, just huffing into the air.
when he looks back down at the camera you can see a blush over his cheeks as he reaches for it. you can tell he's looking at himself not the camera when he gives you a “hope that was alright.” and a soft, timid smile before it ends
you respond with “come over right now.”
-> trying to give joel a blowjob for the first time. he's basically bouncing in his seat as you get on your knees. you take your time unzipping his pants, smiling at the way he moans at everything you do. his breathing picks up once you reach for the band of his breifs, his hands coming to the side of his chair, gripping so hard that his knuckles almost turn white. you take a moment to take in his state, all disheveled despite the fact that you've done nothing but undress him.
he rewards you with a desperate, breathy "i'll do anything".
his hips are fucking into the air as he keeps his eyes trained on the ceiling. you concede, wrapping your hand around his dick and shocking a moan out of him. you finally lean forward to place your lips on his tip, licking at his slit softly, relishing in his salty taste. he sucks in a sharp breath and never exhales.
you pull off of him to giggle at his reaction, maybe lick up his shaft. but the second you come off, his hips pump into the air, humping his dick against your cheek before cumming all over your face.
he groans like he got kicked in the chest, completely out of breath and so gravelly you know his voice will be scratchy afterward.
“mmm fuck. m’sorry. m’ so so sorry, love. s- so good.”
-> joel who wraps his arms around you so tightly that they shake when he cums. no matter what position. he’ll either rearrange the both of you so he can wrap you up or he’ll figure out a way in the position you’re in.
if he’s fucking you in doggy then he’ll lean down and wrap one arm around you. to make up for the missing arm, he’ll rant about how much he loves you in your ear.
his favorite position to have you in is spooning. first, because it's convenient. second, because he can wrap both his arms around you and pull you against his body as tightly as he wants.
sometimes he'll lock you in place and flip onto his back, planting his heels into the bed before beginning his relentless pace into your crying cunt.
-> in a van for a supply run with joel, tommy, maria and some other unknown characters. maria and tommy are upfront with the goons taking up the middle seats. you had to beg joel for this but you guys are in a cuddling position. joel sitting with his back to window, one leg straight and the other planted on the floor. you're sitting between his legs, leaning back against him but sitting straight enough to just turn your head if you want to kiss him.
but the road is more worn down than either of you expected. you try to act like you haven't only been focused on the hot bulge digging into your back every time the van bumps over a rock but once you feel the hot mass begin to harden and expand, you realize you're not the only one struggling with those thoughts.
with some more begging, a lot of neck kisses, gentle caressing, and soft, desperate words to joel. you're now in the same position but bent at the waist, giving him perfect access to your perky ass.
he's having way more fun than he'd care to admit but you can feel it. he was cautious at first, stopping anytime someone said something he thought might draw attention to the back, or even when the van got too silent. but know he's going at you. he's bringing your hips back directly on his cock like he's fucking you.
and he has no problem draping himself over your back to lean in your ear so you can hear him cumming in his pants for you
#joel miller fanfic#joel miller#joel miller smut#joel miller x reader#the last of us hbo#joel the last of us#joel miller x you#joel miller x y/n#joel tlou#joel x reader#sub! joel miller smut#joel miller imagine#joel miller blurb#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fic#joel miller tlou#joel miller the last of us#joel miller thots#joel miller one shot#joel miller pedro pascal#joel miller age gap#joel miller story#joel miller self insert#joel miller drabble#joel miller hbo#joel miller headcanon#joel miller last of us#joel miller brainrot#the last of us fanfiction
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New wip after so many months of not being able to draw cuz art block if a b*tch 🥲🙏🏼 pls be kind 🫶🏻
#pedro pascal#the last of us#joel miller#tlou#tlou hbo#hbo#joel the last of us#the last of us hbo#fanart#tlou fanart#pedro pascal fanart#joel fanart#joel miller fanart#art#traditional drawing#traditional illustration#traditional art#sketch#wip
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Roll The Bones
Pairing: Joel Miller x reader
Author’s note: I wrote this in the midst of a flare up so please enjoy and be gentle with your disabled friends <3
Summary: A bad pain day with Joel [1.5k]
Warnings: descriptions of injuries and subsequent chronic pain, medical settings and discussion, I think that’s it??
When Joel finds you, you're in a pitiful state. Your arm is folded over your face, covering your eyes even though the blinds are closed and the room is dark. Your right leg is peeking out from under the bundle of blankets and quilt, elevated with a lukewarm towel surrounding the swelling kneecap. The room smells like the salve someone in the town makes that's supposed to alleviate your pain. So far, it's just given you a headache. Your entire body throbs with pain and frustration. It shouldn't be like this, you think ruefully. I shouldn't feel like this.
Joel lightly pads over to your bedside— his footsteps quiet now that he's discarded his boots by the front door— and perches next to you. His hand finds a home on your afflicted knee and carefully maneuvers his thumb over the tendons to help with the pain. You shift the arm covering your face to reach for him, and he smiles.
"There she is," he murmurs as you take him in. His hair is long and a little unruly in the back, but you think it makes him look soft and domestic. He's shed his work jacket and heavier clothes downstairs and is clad in his soft, well-worn-in flannel. He smells like pine and leather. You want to wrap yourself in his warmth but settle for having him nearby. "Ellie told me you were havin' a rough day." He says. It doesn't surprise you that she did, even though you promised her you were fine and didn't need him. It's become rare that she doesn't update him daily on your health.
About a year ago, you were on patrol with Tommy when a Runner came out of nowhere and charged at your horse. She startled and bucked you off before you could regain control of the reins. The Runner was dead before you could hit the ground, and your horse would be recovered within the day, but the damage was done. You broke your leg in two places and dislocated your knee, in addition to a low-level concussion and cuts on your face and arms. When you came back into Jackson on Tommy's horse, half-conscious, bloody, and delirious with pain, Joel was horrified, Ellie even more so.
You were in the hospital for a month as they used what they could to put you in something akin to a cast and reset the bones. Joel and Ellie took turns being guards at your bed, monitoring what they gave you, when, and how much, and how your healing process was going. They were there with you every day, learning the tips and tricks to support you and keeping you sane as you stared at the white walls.
Six months, the doctor said. Six months is all it would take to be back to normal as long as you did everything you were supposed to. Things have gotten better slower than you would like, but they have gotten better. You have really good days where you don't feel anything other than slight twinges when you move your leg in a weird way. Those days, it's hard to remember that you broke it in the first place. But other days, like today, you can feel every muscle in your leg tightening as stiff pain rockets up and down your body. You thought you could persevere enough to go to the store with Ellie, but your body obviously had other plans.
"My leg gave out on me when I was coming down the stairs. Pretty sure I made the whole house shake when I fell." You explain, and his eyebrows knit together in phantom pain as his thumb works your muscle.
"You hurt anythin'?" He asks. "Other than your pride?" You blow air out of your nose in a half-laugh and shake your head.
"Just some bruises," you say. He finds a tender spot in your knee that makes you hiss and ball up your fists, but he doesn't let up until the muscle releases. It's what he's supposed to do: break up the scar tissue, relax the muscles, and hope for the best. It still hurts like a bitch, and it'll hurt more in the morning. He mumbles apologies under his breath and kisses you to try and distract you, but your brain's been running wild for hours. "I went so long without any pain." You finally say, breaking the reverie and collapsing the unwanted space your pain often creates.
"You've been takin' on a lot these past few weeks. It doesn't surprise me somethin' would flare up." It's an honest assessment. He warned you this would happen, but you ignored him. You thought you knew your body better. You wanted to know your body better. The returning thought and the gentle hand on your knee turn your tongue into sandpaper, and tears prick in the corners of your eyes. Despite the low light in the room, Joel catches it and makes a sympathetic noise.
"Hey, talk to me." He says softly, shifting his hand from your knee to your face to catch a few stray tears. You shake your head and try and fail to form the words. Joel is patient. He always is, but he shouldn't have to be.
"I'm so tired of being like this." You whisper, hating the feel of the words on your tongue and hating the sound of them even more. Joel gives you a confused look and pushes your hair out of your face.
"Bein' like what?"
"Sick," you choke out. Now that the dam is broken, there's no stopping the bitter rush of words from leaving you. "We took her across the country and got rid of anyone who even looked at her wrong. Now, I can't even get on a horse without hurting. And I do all the stupid fucking things the doctor tells me to do. I do the exercises and take the medicine and everything, and nothing is making it better, and I'm so tired."
"Why didn't you tell me that?"
"Because I didn't want you to think I'm broken." It's a thought you've harbored since you were laid up in the hospital, unable to even walk to the bathroom without help, but this is the first time you've expressed it. You secretly hoped if you just didn't say anything about it, maybe Joel wouldn't notice. It's a stupid idea, given that your entire lives have changed since the accident. You just didn't want to get thrown away like all the other broken things in this world. Joel takes a deep breath and gazes at you.
"Honey, you aren't broken. Not even close to it," he says. You want to counter him, but the weight of your emotion is too heavy on your chest. "I wanna know if somethin' is hurtin' you cause when you hurt, I hurt, okay? You're not a burden or somethin' to fix. You just… need a little extra care right now, and that's okay. I wanna take care of you."
"What if it's like this forever?" You ask, and he shakes his head.
"It won't be."
"But, what if it is?" More tears fill your eyes as you await his answer. He didn't fall in love with this version of you. You don't know if you could blame him if he never does. But with enough ease and love to take your breath away, Joel kisses your forehead, right where your temple smacked against the cold ground. He kisses your forehead and the white scars littering your cheeks before finally shifting to kiss the knee propped up on pillows and hope. He doesn't flinch at the swelling or the angry spasms. He treats them with care and attention. He treats them as another part of you.
"Takin' care of you has never and will never be on the list of worst things imaginable. Your health is not a sacrifice or a burden on me. If it's like this forever, we'll adapt, but I know you. I know how hard you're workin' to get better. I know we'll find a way to live with this," he says. "But I need you to talk to me when things aren't workin'. I can't help you if you don't tell me what's helpin' and what's not, okay?" You swallow around the lump in your throat and nod.
"Okay."
"Okay," he echoes. "I'm gonna get you an appointment with Dr. Lutton and see if we can't get you on a new treatment plan first thing tomorrow mornin'. Is there anythin' I can do for you until then?" He asks, fully prepared to go to the edge of the earth if you asked him to.
"Can you lay with me?" You ask, and he smiles.
"Of course, baby." He mumbles. He kisses your knee one more time before shuffling to wrap you in his arms. The warmth from his body helps relieve some of your tension and pain, and he kneads calming circles over your shoulders and back. Your focus shifts from the pain in your leg to the song he's humming, the vibrations in his chest a welcome distraction. The pain doesn't go away entirely— you doubt it ever will— but you rest your weary body against his and sleep, finding wholeness in his acceptance of your loss.
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#joel miller x reader#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x gn!reader#joel miller x you#joel miller comfort#joel miller hurt/comfort#joel miller angst#joel miller fluff#joel the last of us#the last of us#the last of us fanfiction#the last of us fic#tlou#joel tlou#tlou hbo#tlou fanfiction#tlou fic#pedro pascal cinematic universe
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Peace Offerings Pt.7
Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader
Series Summary: Joel makes a bad impression on the reader when he cuts in front of her at the radio station in the QZ. Abe, a father figure to her and an informant of Joel’s, informs her that the two have something in common: A brother in Wyoming. Joel reluctantly follows Abe’s wishes when he asks him to take the reader along to help find her brother too. As the journey goes on, she finds that despite his best efforts to make her think so, Joel isn’t a complete asshole, and maybe even a little… attractive?
Series Warnings: Slow burn, Age gap (reader is 34, Joel is 56), 18+ Minors DNI, Sexual Themes, Violence, Injuries (depictions of blood, bruising, broken bones), Cursing, Grumpy!Joel, Minimal depictions of reader's appearance (hair color/length.)
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Part Seven
I’d fallen asleep on the couch. Joel placing a mug of coffee onto the table beside me had been my sign to wake up. “What time is it?” I asked while wiping the sleep out of my eyes. “Early. We need to catch up on time.” He said. He was back to his rigid self. I guess last night had been too much for him. I sat up and stretched before taking a sip of the hot, stale liquid. It burned my tongue, but I played it cool. He dropped my backpack in front of me and slung his own over his shoulder. “Be ready in five.” He grunted and turned to walk out the front door. “Aye aye captain.” I mumbled under my breath as I reached for my boots.
I nearly stumbled out onto the porch, and met Joel at the bottom of the stairs. “Ready.” I said. He stood up with a grunt and we began our trek. The air was beginning to get colder, and soon my sweatshirt wouldn’t be enough. I took stock of the clothing I had left in my bag, and even then, I still wouldn’t make it through the winter. “We should find somewhere for warm clothes.” I suggested. He nodded and replied, “Keep an eye out.” I plucked the map he had tucked into the side pocket of his backpack and opened it up. My eyes scanned the area, and if my eyes weren’t deceiving me, there was a shopping mall about 10 miles north. I relayed the information to Joel, and of course he grabbed the map from me, needing to confirm it for himself. I stood close to him, pointing to where I saw the mall. He nodded and folded up the map before handing it to me to shove back into the pocket.
It took five hours, but we’d finally caught sight of the mall. After 5 hours of walking, my mind was fried, and I was even convinced the mall could have been a mirage. “You see that too right?” I asked Joel, my words slurring slightly. “Yup.” He answered. “Just making sure.”
We closed the distance between us and the ginormous building. “This is going to be a bitch to clear.” I sighed. “Just keep it down.” Joel demanded as he pushed the door open with a creak. Memories of my childhood flooded back as I caught sight of the grand entryway to the abandoned mall. “Stay behind me.” He whispered as we entered the building cautiously. I kept my head on a swivel and kept up with Joel’s quickened pace. He stopped at the opening of what looked like a sporting goods store. I followed him inside, and once we deemed the area clear, we untensed and began to load any clothes we saw into our bags. I chose a wind breaker with a sherpa lining and a few sweaters to go underneath. Joel grabbed us each a pair of gloves and a hat. I’d wandered off to see if there was anything else of use, and was eyeing the picked over shoe racks when I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand up. I heard it before I saw it. The familiar raspy breath of an infected. I turned around and caught sight of the nasty thing. It came barreling forward but ran into a rack and sent it flying into me. It slammed against my torso and pinned me to the shoe display. I began to lose vision from the pain of my already cracked ribs being beaten even further. With the little strength I could muster, I pushed the rack off me and used it to keep the distance between the monster and I. It’s arms flailed over the side of the rack as it tried to get a hold of me, but I ducked and dodged each time. I prayed for Joel to find me since I didn’t have the time to take my eyes off of the infected to get my gun from the floor. I stood there fighting the creature as hard as I could all while trying not to collapse from the agony. I finally hurt a gunshot and the creature dropped to the floor. I let go of the rack and paused, ensuring that it was fully dead, and soon after Joel’s hand grabbed my arm and yanked me backwards. “We gotta get out of here. Go!”
I ran as fast as I could behind Joel, and once he felt that we were far enough away from the mall, he slowed to a jog. “You promised you wouldn’t do that.” He breathed. “I know.” I gasped. “So what the fuck possessed you to?” He questioned, his voice gaining volume from growing anger. “I…I don’t know, I just wanted to see what else we could get.” I stuttered, feeling fear pulse through my abdomen. His dark eyes practically burned holes into me. He said nothing and turned to continue to walk along the path we’d fallen upon.
About two hours later, we’d come upon a and cleared school to rest in for the night. He’d been silent, clearly angry at me for wandering away from him. I didn’t want to speak to him either. Even if his anger was because of the fact he cared about me, I hated being talked down to and treated like an irresponsible child. He sat across the grimy, dust filled teachers lounge and bore his eyes into me. I tried to ignore the pain across the right side of my stomach, but it got worse with each breath, and would soon be impossible to ignore. I needed to do something about it, but if Joel saw that I was hurt I would get another lecture. I sat still on the couch, picking at my fingernails to avoid eye contact. “I know you’re hurt.” He grumbled. My eyes shot up to him, “What? I’m fine.” I said defensively. “Then get up and twist to the side.” He demanded. I raised my eyebrows, continuing to act confused, “What the fuck are you on about, Joel? I’m fine, I’m just tired.” I insisted. He stood up and walked over, standing over me and studying my body with his eyes. “Don’t fuckin’ lie to me.” He said, his voice getting lower with impatience. I sighed, my side rippling with pain, and reluctantly sat up while stifling a grunt. I stood, causing Joel to take a step back. “Here’s your proof.” I said as I began to twist to the side. The pain was so bad the wind was knocked out of me and I stumbled backwards, my ass landing on the couch. Joel’s face remained unchanged except for a small glint in his eye. He clearly loved when I was wrong.
I stared up at him angrily while catching my breath. “Lift up your shirt.” He said. I chucked, “Woah, Miller, take me out to dinner first.” He unsurprisingly did not laugh at my joke, and sat on the couch next to me, leaving about two feet between us. I rolled my eyes and lifted up my shirt while sucking air through my teeth. Joel’s eyes widened and his lips parted. “Wha-” I began to ask but my breath caught in my throat when I caught sight of the nasty multicolored bruise painted across the right side of my abdomen. “Must’ve broken a rib. A few ribs at least.” He said before absentmindedly moving his calloused fingers up to touch it. I jerked away and spat, “Don’t fucking touch it.” He quickly moved his hand away and muttered, “Sorry.” I pulled my shirt back down and sat back on the couch with a grunt. I looked at him, wondering what his next move would be. He stood up and walked to his backpack on the other side of the room, unzipped it, and pulled out a long-sleeved shirt. “Joel, don’t waste a perfectly good shirt, I’ll be fine.” I said, but he ignored me and I watched him as he ripped it and tied it to make a longer strip of fabric.
When he was finished, he walked back over to me and gestured for me to stand again. I raised my shirt up for him again and he didn’t move. He cleared his throat and said “It’ll need to go under your shirt.” I nodded and reluctantly pulled my t-shirt off, leaving only my ratty bra to cover my breasts. He unraveled the fabric and began to wrap it around my torso a few times, then looped it over my opposite shoulder. I winced as he pulled it tighter before tying one last knot in the center of my chest. Pulling the fabric had forced our bodies closer together, the warmth of his breath brushing over my face. His head turned down, and his eyes bounced back and forth between my eyes and my lips, and I could have sworn he leaned in closer before pulling away quickly. Embarrassment flooded my cheeks as he took a step back and studied his work, making sure it was tied correctly. The tightness of the wrap pressed into the bruise causing a dull ache, but moving with it on felt much better than nothing. “Thanks.” I said quietly. He nodded and sat back down on the other couch, not thinking to look away as I put my shirt back on.
“I told you to stay behind me. And now look at you.” He huffed after a minute of silence. “Oh save it, Joel.” I spat. He leaned forward on his knees, “There was no need for you to go and get yourself hurt. We agreed what I say goes, so you need to start actin’ like it.” His eyes were intense, he wasn’t fucking around. I only agreed to that sentiment so he would take me with him to find our brothers in Wyoming. I thought he knew that since I showcased my hardheadedness often. “We both lived, and I’ll be fine.” I said, wanting to end the conversation. “We’re staying here while you heal. Not getting back on the road until you can move correctly again. S’not safe.” I lifted my head off the couch to look at him, “You can’t be serious. My legs are fine! I can walk!” He pressed his lips together and shook his head, “You can’t move your upper body. You can’t fight.” He said. I rolled my eyes and let a puff of air leave my nose, “Staying here will only make the trip longer. I want to get to Wyoming, Joel.” He thought for a minute and then looked up at me, “We’ll get there faster if you take the time to rest.” He argued. I stood up and grabbed my backpack, stifling the grimaces as I gathered my things. “What’re you doing?” He asked, eyeing me as I moved around the room. “I’m getting on the road. Don’t need someone to hold me back.” I muttered as I began to walk towards the door of the lounge. Joel bolted to the door and stood blocking it. I stared daggers at him, “Move.” He shook his head side to side slowly. I pushed on his chest as hard as I could with both of my hands, “Fucking move, asshole!” I winced when he grabbed my arms and pushed me to the side, pinning my back against the wall beside the door. “I can’t let you do that.” He grunted, using his strength to hold me. I tried to struggle against his grip but my side was searing with pain. “You can. I’m a grown woman, Joel. I don’t need you to protect me like some guard dog. I’ll do just fine on my own.” I seethed, “Let go of me. Please I just want to get to my brother.”
Tears of frustration pooled in my eyes. Joel’s hard gaze softened, and so did his grip. “You will. But you won’t get far with broken ribs. I’m trying to help you.” He said calmly. I looked at him through my tears. Took in his wild brown hair which was sprinkled with grey, his square jaw inhabited by a patchy beard, eyes the color of ground coffee, eyes that were pleading for me to stay. I didn’t know why, but I was beyond attracted to him. Sure, he was older, but what did that matter nowadays? In addition to his looks, his commanding and dark personality intrigued me. He clearly cared about me, but he had walls up. Hard, concrete walls that were going to take maximal effort to break down. But hell was I going to try because I’ve never said no to a challenge.
“You want me to stay, huh?” I asked, blinking away my tears as a new idea popped into my head. “I don’t want you to get killed.” He said gruffly. I smirked slightly, “Then admit it.” I blurted. His face twisted into an expression that was confusion mixed with fear. He took a step back, letting his arms fall to his sides. “What?” He questioned. “Yeah, that’s right. If you want me to stay so badly, admit that you care about me.” I taunted as I walked towards him. He stumbled over his words, but I cut him off again, “C’mon, Joel, you’ve slaughtered people but you’re afraid to confess your feelings to a woman?” I chuckled. He stood staring at me. His chest rising and falling with his panicked breaths. He said nothing, and my heart fell slightly, but I kept my confident air. “Fine. See you in hell.” I said before turning to walk out of the door. Before my hand could touch the handle, I felt a calloused grip on the back of my neck. The hand pulled me backwards and I turned. I barely had time to process, and suddenly my lips were moving hungrily with Joel’s.
Warmth and excitement spread through my stomach as his arms gently wrapped around my waist. His hands shakily held onto the small of my back, his fingers clenching into the fabric of my shirt when I let a small moan slip into his mouth. We lost ourselves in each other. Our hands explored places neither of us ever thought we’d touch. His strong hands moved cautiously up my waist and around my shoulders to settle into each crook of my neck. He used his body to push me backwards into the wall. My hands gripped his torso, pulling him closer, using anything but words to ask him for more. His tongue licked my bottom lip and I eagerly let him in. He tasted better than anything I’d imagined. Suddenly, he pulled away. “I can’t.” He grunted as he gently pushed his hands off of my hips and stalked away into the other room, leaving me with swollen lips, heavy breathing, confusion, and rejection.
I sat on the couch staring at the ground and chewing on my fingernails. I felt embarrassed at how desperate I’d been for him, and for actually thinking he would open up to me. I dropped my head into my hands and let out a frustrated groan. His footsteps caused my head to snap up, and he stood in the doorway. His face was unreadable. “Joel,” I started to speak but he cut me off. “Don’t. It was a mistake. Won’t happen again. Now get some sleep. We’re getting back on the road in the morning.” He said as he laid down on the other couch. I nodded and laid back, turning away from him. My thoughts made sleep seem unreachable. His voice grounding out the word “mistake” over and over in my mind. Maybe he was right. Maybe it was all one huge mistake. Me leaving the QZ for my brother, Joel agreeing to take me with him. But it was too late now. We were so close to Wyoming. I decided I would suck it up, not enage with Joel unless I had to, and stick to his plans no matter what. I just needed to survive, and I would make it to Matthew.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Author's Note: Hi hi! We're finally getting some action in this part;) Also, I've had a request to start a tag list so please let me know if you'd like to be added!! I hope you enjoy <3
Next Part | Masterlist
#joel miller x reader#joel tlou#pedro pascal#pedro pascal fandom#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal x female reader#tlou#joel the last of us#the last of us fanfiction#tlou fanfiction#tlou hbo#the last of us#the last of us hbo#hbo tlou#slow burn#romance#enemies to lovers#the mandolarian#the mandalorian#star wars#forced proximity#forced proximity trope
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✨Captured in the Woods Part 1: Knock at the Cabin Door✨
Series Masterlist
A/N: First part of my little horror au is finished! I hope you enjoy, and please tell me what you think of it after reading ☺️ Not beta read, and this is just a fun project I’ve wanted to try for a while. I am a big horror fan, so needed to create my own horror story. This will be 2-3 parts!
Chapter Summary: You and Joel rent a quiet cabin for the weekend, but you’re in for an unexpected surprise when a stranger knocks on your door in the middle of the night.
Pairing: Joel x fem! reader
Rating: Explicit (18+ Only MDNI)
Word Count: 5.3k
Chapter Tags: Smut, fingering, flirting, sweet pet names, kidnapping, mentions of cannibals, horror au, no outbreak au, brief choking scene
Dividers by @saradika-graphics
The rustic feel of the lavish cabin glows brightly in the warm summer evening. A small weekend getaway just for the two of you, to get a little break from the rush of Austin. A sweet, romantic gesture Joel planned as he picked out a secluded, quiet cabin out in the middle of nowhere. Close to Big Bend National Park, just on the outskirts where you can hear the crickets chirp and see the flicker of fireflies dance around in the countryside of Texas.
You place your hands on the smooth oak kitchen counter as you look out the big glass window, into the calm darkness as you take in the quiet night, alone with Joel. “How did you find this place anyway, Joel?”
He comes up behind you and places his meaty hands gently on the sides your hips as his lips brush against the base of your neck. “Jus’ looked around a bit on the internet with the help of Ellie and Sarah. This one was the only one available for this weekend, so I jumped at the chance of bookin’ it.”
“Oh, is that so?” you smile as his lips graze over your skin as electric sparks zap down your body.
“Mhm,” he hums as he kisses sensually right at the base of the shell of your ear as you groan in pleasure. “Wanted some alone time with my girl.”
He spins you around as his hips dig into yours and pushes you against the edge of the counter. You wrap your arms around his neck and smile up at him as his arms curl around your back. “What do you think they’re getting up to this weekend?” you ask as his warm breath blows over you.
“I don’t even wanna know. Tommy’s got his eyes on ‘em, so hopefully Ellie’s mindin’ her manners around the house. That one’s a little troublemaker,” he laughs as he bends down and places his forehead against yours.
“Yeah, but you love her,” you giggle as he pulls you tighter against his broad chest.
“Yeah, I do. Jus’ like I love you, pretty girl. Now c’mere.” He crowds your body and cups the side of your face as his lips gently meet yours. You smell the mahogany and fresh soap scents that douse his blue flannel as he groans against the taste of your glossy lips. You part your lips and let him inside, feeling the way he licks into your mouth fervently as you taste him, drink him down like you’re parched of his flavor.
He lifts you up and perches you on the edge of the counter as you wrap your legs around his strong back and let him smother you in an intense kiss. His hand trails up your inner thigh, stopping just at the edge of your denim shorts as his finger flirts against your nearly dripping core. You moan into his mouth as his thumb presses against your heated center, finding just the right spot as he starts to rub up and down against the material where your bundle of nerves is begging to be touched.
You start to pant into his mouth as his thumb hooks underneath your shorts and works his way to rubbing against your puffy clit. You press your lips to the shell of his ear and beg for more as your nails dig into the back of his flannel. “Joel, mmmm - fuck,” you moan as you hear the sloshing of his thumb moving against your wet pussy.
“What’s that, baby girl? You want more?” he murmurs against your slack jaw as he takes his tongue and laps it slowly up the side of your face. Two of his fingers melt inside your dripping hole as he curls up, up, up, reaching that spongy spot that makes you moan loudly while your fingers twist around his greying curls.
“Gonna come, gorgeous? C’mon, give it to me. That’s it,” he instructs as you hear how drenched you are with the way he ruts up inside you. His thumb meticulously circles your clit, and fuck does it feel good. You’re almost there, so close. It never takes him long to get you there, always knows exactly where to press your buttons.
“Joel, I’m gonna…”
“That’s it, love. Let me hear it. Almost…”
Bang, bang, bang.
Suddenly, three loud knocks pound against the front door, and Joel’s fingers quickly slide out of you as you gasp out in horror. “Joel, I thought there weren’t any other cabins around here.”
His eyes grow wide as those deep chocolate irises go grave. “There aren’t,” he gulps as he helps you down from the counter. Another three knocks echo through the little cabin, and fear creeps through your bones as your body grows cold.
“Christ, who the fuck is that?” he whispers harshly as he adjusts his unbuttoned flannel and turns back toward you as his eyes look panicked. Rarely anything scares Joel Miller, so seeing him like this absolutely terrifies you.
Another sharp banging sound comes from the entryway, and you grab onto his sleeve as if that’ll make the scary noises stop. “Joel, I’m scared,” you whisper as his jaw twitches and eyebrows knit together.
He cups the side of your face, and the way he’s looking at you all worried like scares the hell out of you. “It’s okay, baby. I’m gonna take care of it. Jus’ stay close, okay? ‘M not gonna let anyone hurt you.” He grabs the biggest, sharpest knife in the side drawer, and your eyes grow as large as the moon’s. Joel’s protective side was always at reach, but tonight he was a full on wolf.
The wooden floorboards creak with every step Joel takes closer to the front door. You see a large shadow looming over the outside porch, and your face drops as sheer terror rains through your veins. “Joel, wait,” you whine as you reach out and grab the edge of his sleeve, tugging him back just enough where you can keep a grip on him. “I don’t want you to open that door.”
Joel licks his bottom lip and sighs as he kisses the top of your forehead gently. “Baby, I have to. They might not stop if I don’t. I gotta say somethin’. Maybe it’s just some kids messin’ around.”
“Be careful,” you whimper out as he drags his thumb over the bottom of your lip slowly.
“Always am.” He drops his hand from you, and you feel like you’re missing an entire limb. You hear more rustling from the front porch and see the lights flickering from the outside as another loud bang sounds from the door. You wince from the awful noise and stay five paces behind him.
Joel reaches for the door handle and yanks it open as the rush of a warm summer’s evening slips through the doorway. He sticks his head out and looks both ways as he grasps the knife tighter in his hand and clenches his jaw. “Alright, whoever you are jus’ come on out. Quit messin’ around,” he grits through his teeth as you see how angry he looks, furrowed brows and tight wrinkles mapped out on his forehead as he rakes a hand aggressively through his salt-and-pepper scruff.
The only thing you hear are his leather boots scuff against the wood and the soft sounds of crickets and crows in the distance. There’s no more aggressive knocking, no more hooded figures walking around the front porch, there’s just quiet sounds of nature. How strange.
Joel huffs out as he starts to walk back in. “Well, that was weird. Whoever that was, I guess they’re gone now.”
You catch a sigh of relief, but before you can fully relax, you see the large presence of a man in a black hoodie and dark jeans. You gasp out as your eyes go wide. “Joel, behind you!”
Before he has a chance to react, the hooded figure covers his mouth with a white rag, and then Joel starts to hit the floor. You scream out and try to run to him, but your body is jolted back as someone grabs you around the waist and covers your mouth with some kind of tainted cloth. You can’t even speak Joel’s name as your world starts to fade to black. You feel darkness take over, and the last thing you see is Joel’s limp body being dragged outside the front door before you fall into a deep sleep.
Your head is so foggy, your eyes slowly peel open as you try to stop the excessive pounding in your throbbing head. It’s like someone has struck you with a metal pan, the pain practically unbearable. You muster all your strength to keep your eyes open, your vision slowly turning from blurry to crystal clear as you see just where you are. In a dark, rusty basement.
The room is dimly lit, dusty with the smell of mildew and dripping water permeating through the thick air. You can barely stand the stench as it hits your nostrils, burning all the way down to your lungs. The wallpaper is faded and dark brown, the paint peeling off in thick clumps. The stairs are old, creaky things with the wood hollow and cracking, like they could collapse under the weight of nothing. A metal pitchfork, a rusty shotgun, and bells of hay sit tucked away into a dark corner of the room. Everything else is rustic and worn, like this is the basement of an older man, maybe a farmer, or a deranged psychopath.
Just when you’re awake enough to come to your senses, you realize your wrists are burning like someone stuck them inside a sharp thorn bush. When you look down, you see you’re bound to a metal pipe that runs through the ground and goes directly through the crumbling wall. You try to writhe and pull your hands free but it’s no use, you’re stuck like glue and only making the pain excruciating.
You sigh defeatedly and when you look up, your face drops as you see Joel passed out with his hands tied about his head, attached to a couple of bolted bars in the wall. No, no, no! This can’t be happening, this can’t be real. You try once again to pull yourself free, but you end up pulling the rope tighter as you cry out in pain.
“Fuck,” you whine as you feel wet teardrops splash down your cheeks. You look back up and plead for Joel to wake up. “Joel, Joel!”
You hear a low groan as he starts to shift his weight, slowly trying to lift his drooped head as you call his name louder, this time more desperate as panic floods your veins. He gradually lifts his head as he flutters his eyes open, the fringe of his thick eyelashes blinking open as honey flecked eyes meet your gaze.
It takes him a minute to come back to the present as he groans again through the haze. He blinks a few times, gradually getting his wits about him as his eyes suddenly snap open in attention, and his face becomes panicked. He pulls on the binds, setting his strong jaw as he grits his teeth together and growls. You see it on his face when he looks at you. Panicked, angry, confused. He knows as much as you do which is nothing.
“Shit,” he mumbles angrily as his eyes relax once he sees you. “Christ. Are you okay? Are you hurt?” he asks adamantly as he tugs again and winces as the tethered ropes nip at his wrists.
“I’m… I’m okay as I can be. Joel, what the fuck happened? Where are we?” you ask wildly as another tear soaks through the thigh of your denim shorts.
“I don’t know, baby. Jus’ try to stay calm. I’ll find a way out of this mess one way or another. There’s no way in hell I’m…”
His words are cut off from the creaking of the floorboards upstairs. You stop your movements, letting your hands relax against the weight of the firm pipe. Another creak sounds through the upstairs as you start to hear a steady rhythm of footsteps on the floor above the basement.
Joel’s eyebrows furrow into a worry line as you try to calm your breathing instead of the panic attack that you’re holding onto like a thin piece of thread that’s about to snap in half. He looks like he’s about to say something as his worried brown eyes stare back at you until you hear the slam of a door and hear heavy boots making their way down to the basement. Down to where you and Joel are.
Your heart races in your chest, sweat beading on the corners of your forehead as you silently pray that whoever it is will turn around and leave you and Joel alone. You gasp when you see the face of an older man appear, his brown worn boots scuffing down the fragile steps until you see his face appear out of the dark shadows. You suck in a breath when you see exactly what he looks like in the glow of the dim light.
He’s tall, has ashy blonde hair, piercing blue eyes that could turn a man’s heart into pure ice, and looks like a complete monster. Scars pave the way under his right eye, a snarl is encased in his angry expressions, and his fists clench at his sides. He’s wearing dirt covered jeans and a tan jacket that you swear has blood stains bleaching the worn material. This is so bad. Really bad.
He comes over to you first, every step he takes looks like a panther that’s about to pounce and attack you right on the spot. When he bends down to your level, a dark chuckle comes out of his dirty mouth, and you try to make yourself small against the cold wall, but it’s no use. You’re trapped like a little mouse with nowhere to go.
He reaches out a grimy hand and cups your chin tightly as his eyes rake savagely down your body. You try to writhe out of his grasp, but he only cups your chin tighter until his dirty nail beds are digging into your skin. “My, my. What do we have here? You sure are a pretty little thing,” he cackles as you see Joel’s eyes blaze into the back of his head.
Joel tugs hard on his bindings and scowls down at your captor. “Get your fuckin’ filthy hands off her!” he growls sharply.
The blonde man with fading scars drops his hand from your face and shoves you back against the wall as he stands up and trots over to Joel with his fists clenched. “What did you say?” he sneers at Joel.
“I said get your fuckin’ hands off my girl,” he warns again with the pits of his dark eyes. The tall man scowls and throws his hand in the air, his palm meeting Joel’s cheek with a harsh sound reverberating off the walls of the damp basement. The slap is hard enough to make Joel grunt and flinch his eyes closed.
“Trying to tell me what to do in my house? You’ve gone and fucked up now,” the man spits out.
He grabs a hold of Joel’s neck and squeezes until Joel is red in the face, honey eyes slowly glossing over as he tries to get a gasp of breath. You bang your wrists against the solid pipe and cry out, “No, stop! Please, just stop! Don’t hurt him!”
Your words seem to stir something in him because he lets go and turns sharply to you as he cackles. Joel coughs violently and fills his lungs with air again while his purple tinted face fades back to tan. “Wait till my brother gets home from his little outing. The rest of the family are upstairs preparing the table, and boy are you in for a little treat,” he cackles as he throws his head back and rasps out.
“Why are you doing this?” you yell with tears welling in your eyes as you dig your sneakers into the cold floor.
He bends down to your level and eyes you with those sharp cold irises. “Because. You were in our house. My family’s cabin, so you were fair game. You walked into the trap, so it’s only right. It’s that time of the month where we’ve run out of food, and we need fresh meat. Your meat.”
You stare at him all wide-eyed and blinking back thick tears as you gasp in horror. “What did you say?”
“Your meat, sweetheart. When I said you’re in for a treat, I meant you are the treat. You two are the special guests, and I’m gonna take you first.” He points at you coldly as he pushes himself up from the floor and starts to back up toward the creaky stairs.
“I’m gonna fuckin’ tear you to shreds once I get out of these ropes!” Joel growls as he snarls his teeth together and tugs on the ropes again.
The disgusting man takes a few strides over to Joel and pushes at his broad chest. “I’d like to see you try,” he says with gritted teeth at Joel. “You two just shut up and keep it down till I come back down and get you. And oh, were you maybe wondering where these were?” He holds up a silver ring with the key to Joel’s Chevy, and both of your eyes go wide. He has the truck keys. Fuck. He slides them back in his pocket as he smirks your way. You can see Joel biting his tongue as he watches him turn.
Before he makes it to the stairs, you snarl at him and yell as loud as you can. “You monster!” Your lips quiver as you feel a warm tear roll down your cheek. You bite the inside of your cheek as he turns and snickers your way.
“My name’s not monster, sweetheart. It’s David.” With that, he pounds up the dirt covered stairs and slams the door hard, leaving you and Joel alone in the empty basement.
You feel it then, the panic starting to settle in. Your entire body starts to tremble, and you feel so cold and scared that you can barely hear Joel trying to call your name across the room. You start to break down in tears, feeling the panic attack taking over as you start to ramble off stuttering words as you stare at the dirt encased ground with tears falling down to the tops of your thighs.
“This is it. We’re gonna die. We’re never… never gonna see Ellie or Sarah or T… Tommy or Maria. And we’re never gonna get to… never gonna…” You can’t even finish your sentence as you hug your knees to your chest and lay your head against the cold pipe you're tied to.
“Hey, look at me. Baby, please,” Joel pleads as you hear how adamant his words are. You feel so weak, so defeated that you can barely pick your head up to look at him, but he tries again anyways.
“Look at me, sweetheart. Please. C’mon now. Let me see those pretty eyes.”
You slowly blink and look up through your long eyelashes as your shakes die down just a little by the soft timber of his deep voice. “There ya go, attagirl. Now jus’ breathe for me, okay? Can you do that for me, sweet girl?”
You nod your head up and down as you take some nice deep breaths, soothing your panic attack by looking into those pretty honey colored eyes and listening to his soft voice. “That’s it. Nice and slow. I need you to be brave for me. Can you be my brave girl?” You nod your head silently as a whimper escapes your lips. “Need to hear you say it,” he asks as he awaits your answer.
“Yes, I can be brave,” you whine out as you suck in anymore tears that might fall.
“Good girl. Now, see that sharp edge on the pipe there? I need you to cut yourself loose, sweetheart. Rub the rope up and down. It should work. Jus’ be careful.”
Your eyes dart down to the rusty pipe, and now you see what he’s talking about. Right on the far left side is a jagged edge that may be sharp enough to cut the ropes with. You carefully move your throbbing wrists up and down, catching the edge as you start to saw your way through the thick ropes.
Your wrists burn with every up and down motion you make, but you’re making headway the more you rub against the rough edge. Your skin feels like fire as you see the ropes cutting into your delicate skin. “Ahh, fuck. It’s tight, my wrists,” you whine as you continue rubbing up and down quickly.
“Almost there, baby. C’mon, jus’ a little more,” Joel coaxes as he encourages you on. He’s always so good, no matter what’s going on. You weren’t gonna die tonight, no. You’d fight like hell before they took either of you out.
A few more sharp tugs against the edge and the ropes are falling away from your bruised wrists. You push yourself up off the damp floor and run to Joel as you reach for his bindings and quickly start untying him. You watch his eyes turn from wild amber to soft brown as he stares at you, telling you just how much he loves you with only his eyes. It almost makes a tear spill down your cheek, but you have to stay strong and focus.
You grit your teeth sharply until you successfully pull him loose. His arms come down quickly, and then he’s tugging you to him as he pulls you in by your waist. He looks so scared, scared of losing you with that worry line mapping out on his forehead, but he won’t break. He’ll stay strong for you, just like he always does.
He cups your face softly as he stares down at you with pensive brown eyes. “We’re gonna get out of here alive, baby. ‘M not gonna lose you tonight. We’re gonna find a way out. And we will see Ellie, Sarah, Tommy, and Maria again. And goddamn it I’m gonna see you walk down that aisle in September. I’m gonna make you my wife, and we’re gonna go on our honeymoon, and we’re gonna do everything we ever planned, okay? You jus’ need to be brave for me. We’re gonna have to fight to make it out of here, but we will get out. Mark my words, baby. We’re gettin’ out of here in one piece. ‘M not losin’ the love of my life. Not here, not ever.” His words are adamant, bold, permanent. And you know he’s right. He’ll fight like hell before he ever loses you.
“Joel, I’m scared,” you whisper as he leans his forehead down to yours.
“I know. I am, too. But you need to trust me, okay? We’re gonna get out of here. Alright?” he says with his mouth grazing gently against yours.
“Okay. I trust you.” He crashes his lips down on yours like it’s the last kiss he’ll ever give you. It’s desperate, longing, intense, and you taste fear and love mixing together on the edge of your tongue. You sink into his broad chest, curling your fingers into his blue flannel as you melt into his plush lips, memorizing the way he feels and tastes against your mouth. After a few more seconds, he pulls back and runs a hand gently down the back of your hair.
“That’s my good girl. Now c’mon, let’s see if we can find anything useful down here.” He pulls you behind him as you search the area, swiping your fingers on the grimy walls and scavenging for anything you can use. There’s nothing really here that looks even remotely useful.
Joel grabs the shotgun, but there’s no ammo, and a part of the gun looks cracked. “Fuckin’ useless,” Joel huffs as he throws it in a bed of hay and runs his fingers over the rusty pitchfork. “Even this thing looks like it’s about to fall apart. There’s gotta be somethin’ upstairs we can use. Ain’t shit down here,” he snarls as he kicks at a stack of hay.
You cautiously grab his thick forearm, and his eyes soften just a bit as he turns toward you. “Hey, we’ll find something. We have to.” You say it with a large gulp as you try to keep down all the fear that’s simmering in your gut.
Joel nods his head as his jaw ticks and grabs your wrist. “You’re right. C’mon, let’s get out of this filthy basement.” He keeps his grip on you as you follow him up the creaky steps, being careful not to be too loud incase David comes back down.
Before you get to the last step, Joel sits you down and grabs a hold of your shoulders as he looks at you with careful brown eyes that scream to pay attention. “Listen to me carefully, baby. We’re gonna have to be smart ‘bout this. I don’t know what lies ahead out this door or what those people are capable of, but I’m thinkin’ we’re gonna have to fight.”
Your eyes grow wide at what he means. He means if worse comes to worse you’re going to have to do what needs to be done. Even if that means killing them. You cringe at the thought, but that’s what they were going to do to you, just worse.
Suddenly your breathing picks up again as your body starts to tremble. You have to fight, this isn’t a dream, this is real. Your eyes blow out as you feel the room start to become blurry, but Joel cups your face and brings you back to a steady place. “Hey, look at me. Breathe, baby. Jus’ focus on me,” he coaxes as his worried brown eyes melt into yours. Your breathing slows, heart rate coming down as you focus on the deep bravado of his voice.
“There ya go, sweetheart. Easy now. That’s it,” he lulls as his calloused thumb traces patterns up and down your jawline. He leans forward and rests his forehead on yours as his lips press softly into yours, just enough for you to keep a hold on him a little longer.
He pulls his lips away and grazes them along your forehead as he whispers, “You’ve gotta stay alive, baby. I need you to focus for me. Watch your back and follow my lead. And remember how I taught you to use a gun?”
“Yeah,” you reply nervously as you slide your hand up and grip his flannel tightly.
“Don’t be afraid to use one if you have to. It’s only self defense, and I have a feeling we’re gonna have to use some kind of weapon to make it out of here.”
You gulp and nod your head slowly. “Okay. So, what do we do first?”
“We’re gonna have to try to get a layout of the house, figure out where everyone is. I don’t know how far away we are from the cabin, and I don’t know if they moved my truck. So, we’re gonna have to get the keys, make it back to the truck, and make a run for it.”
“Okay, yeah. We can do that… I think,” you whisper as you stare down at the dusty steps and pine over what you’re going to have to do.
Joel cups your chin and lifts your face so you can get a clear look at him. “Hey, you’ve got this. You can do it. Jus’ take a breath for me, stay alert, and watch your back. Stay behind me and keep your guard up. I believe in you.”
When he runs his thumb down your jawline and grazes against your bottom lip, you kiss his fingertips and hold his large hand in yours. “I love you, Joel.”
“And I love you, my beautiful fiancé.” He leans forward and covers your lips with his as you breathe in his woodsy pine scent and fresh coffee taste that always lingers on his lips.
You sit there for a moment just wading in each other’s presence, holding on to each other if only for just another few seconds, but then time comes to a halt. “You ready?” he asks as he looks at you with large brown eyes.
“Yeah, let’s get this over with,” you murmur as he grabs your hand and leads you up the last step. When he reaches for the rusted door handle it doesn’t budge. He tries jiggling the handle again, but nothing happens.
“Shit, it’s locked,” he huffs as he sets his jaw and flexes his right hand into a tight fist. He rakes a hand slowly through his scruff as he contemplates his choices. When he looks back over at you, his eyes go wide with a bright idea. “You have a bobby pin in your hair by chance?”
You lift an eyebrow as you realize that you do have one. “Yeah, I actually do.” You twist your fingers in your hair and pull a thin brown bobby pin from your locks and hand it to Joel.
“You’re a lifesaver,” he says with a warm smile as he kisses your cheek and then turns to the faded door. He carefully sticks one of the long ends into the keyhole and meticulously works at the lock, closing one eye as he focuses on each turn of the bobby pin.
You hear the lock working, each click making your heart race as Joel clenches his jaw and concentrates to get the lock to release for him. He squints as he grunts out in frustration, cursing under his breath as he works and works and works at the incessantly stubborn lock. Just when you think it won’t work, the lock makes a loud click as the door handle unlocks.
“Got ya,” Joel says excitedly as he slips the bobby pin back into the front pocket of your denim cutoffs.
“My hero,” you gush as he chuckles and smirks your way.
“Always,” Joel smiles as he leans down and brushes his lips against yours, giving you a lasting kiss that you’ll surely burn into the back of your head as you figure out how the fuck to get out of here.
He rests his large palms on each side of your face and looks at you with big brown eyes as he takes a large breath. “Okay, you ready?”
You gulp down your fear and nod your head as you cover his hand with yours. “Mhm. Let’s get the fuck out of here,” you whisper out bravely.
“Attagirl. Alright, follow me. Keep low to the ground and stay behind me. Keep your guard up. And remember, I love you so much. This ain’t the end.”
“I love you, too. My forever,” you smile as his lips curl up into a sideways smirk. Your favorite smile of his. He grazes his lips over your knuckles and then slowly pulls the door open, careful not to make a sound as he stays low to the ground and crawls out of the room.
“Follow me,” he whispers as he leads you into a long, narrow hallway that’s only lit with dim lamps as the overhead lights flicker on and off.
You gulp and follow him into the unknown, staying low to the ground as you venture into a danger zone full of jump scares and men dressed as monsters. But you’re ready, you have to be. Let them come. They wouldn’t get you again. Not this time. You’d get them.
So, let the games begin.
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#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller fan fiction#horror fiction#joel miller pedro pascal#horror au#captured in the woods#joel miller fic#joel miller smut#joel miller fanfiction#joel x female reader#joel the last of us#tlou fanfiction#protective joel
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hehe
#pedro pascal#the last of us#tlou#joel miller#<3#his smile 🥺#joel the last of us#the mandalorian#pedro is daddy
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I wanna go to the hardware store and pretend I'm confused so maybe a handsome contractor with baby cow eyes and delicious arms will offer me some help and fall in love with me.
Then on our wedding day:
- Joelie, I have to confess something. The day we met I was just pretending. I actually know my way around the hardware store very well but I was too shy to talk to you 🤭
- Well, darling, I guess this a good time to confess I'm not a contractor. I was pretending. I actually sell hardcore drugs 😌☝🏻
I love this silly man 🩷
#joel miller#Joelie Miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller fanfic#joel tlou#joel x reader#joel miller fluff#joel miller imagine#tlou joel#joel the last of us#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fic#tlou#tlou fanfiction#no outbreak!joel miller#pedro pascal characters#merz-8
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Chapter 2
Paring: Joel x F!Reader (NO Y/N)
Warnings: pre!outbreak and post!outbreak, AU (there will be some characters, Joel's backstory is different), no Sarah, no Ellie (maybe!), a lot of flashback (at least in the first chapters!), age gap (reader is approx. 10 yrs younger than Joel), slow burn, mutual pining, angst, SMUT, unprotected sex, creampie, oral sex (m and f), fingering, masturbation (m and f), language, attempted SA, trauma, death and violence.
Rating: M
Masterlist
Word count: 3.6k
Summary: You work in the Millers' company, you are their friend, you have a job you love, your coworkers esteem and love you. Your life is perfect. Suddenly, one day, you wake up in the hospital, you are alone surrounded by silence and strange noises, your door is barricaded, but what happened? And what happened to the world out there?
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JANUARY 2014
You suddenly wake up and turn toward him, toward Joel, facing a man you remember so different from the way he's now, he gives his back to you, you observe him intent on putting something in a backpack, you don't know what exactly it is, it's all still so confusing. You turn in a supine position and look up at the windows, it's almost dark and it's raining. The only light comes from the street, it is dim and flickers.
You observe the apartment for what you can and notice the flaking paint off the walls, the broken appliances, some of the tiles torn off, you remember that as soon as you stepped foot in this place, you fainted and the last thing you remember was Joel's strong arms grabbing you preventing you from hitting your head.
You really struggle to reconcile your memories with what you see today, coming here you walked at a brisk pace and Joel insisted over and over again to avoid the main roads because controlled by FEDRA, but more than anything you struggle to reconcile the memory you had about Joel with the man you are standing next to today.
"Hey," Joel says noticing that you are awake, you see him leave what he was doing and approach you, you furrow your brow as you look at him, he strokes your forehead, and you, in an almost unconscious gesture, close your eyes "I was scared to death when you fell into my arms," he adds, you open your eyes again and look at him. His brown eyes are still the same, but something in his expression is changed.
"What happened? What…? I'm so confused…" you say letting a moan escape your lips and closing your eyes, you touch your head and feel it getting bandaged, he takes your hand and squeezes it between his, you look into his eyes feeling a weird feeling. It's not fear, it's something you can't even quite define, you sigh and find yourself swallowing without stopping looking into his eyes.
You can't remember much, everything's hazy.
"I can only imagine how ya might feel right now," he tells you and you find yourself nodding, "however, ya have to trust me, what I tell ya, okay?" he adds.
You hesitate about your answer, you just look at him for a long time in his eyes, in those eyes that…
"I'm sorry," you say as you sit up, but your head hurts so much, "but I don't … I don't know…"
"Wait, ya need to stay down," he says placing a hand behind the back of your head and making you lean your head back against the pillow "I get ya a painkiller," he adds moving away from you for a moment, you see him crouched in front of what you imagine is his backpack and you see him intent on digging and pulling out a packet of painkillers "here it is," he says opening the packet and rolling a pill into the palm of his hand "take it," you look first at the tube and then at him, his eyes, "trust me."
"Trust me." this word run through your head like a distant echo of something already lived and that's what it gives you the confidence to open your mouth and take the pill, then with one hand he holds your head up and helps you drink some water from a bottle, "Trust me."
You lie there until you feel light-headed again, "What happened?" you ask him as you open and close your eyes, you hear your voice almost muffled to your own ears, you feel his hand squeeze yours tightly, they're so warm, so big, "I don't know exactly when or where it all started, but since that day everyone's life has gone downhill. Some say it was a fungus taking over the host, some say it's a virus created in a lab, some think it's a parasite found in some foods. In any case, many, millions of people from what I know turned into things they call runners, some call 'em clickers, some call 'em in different ways depending on the stage of infection. Don't know, but what matters is that a bite is fatal 'cause ya become one of 'em." you swallow, widening your eyes, Joel squeezes your hand just a little tighter "I know 's overwhealming." you nod looking at his face, he caresses you "want ya to know that as long as I'm around, I won't let anyone hurt ya."
You nod, "But will there be a cure? A vaccine that can be created, right?"
He looks up from your face to the window behind you, his eyes are sad "Scientists, doctors all over the world have already tried, but nothing seems to stop this."
A great eerie dread makes its way through you, you're afraid, you're cold, "Joel," you reach for his hand in the dark, he immediately grasps your hand turning his gaze toward you "is this your home?"
"No, my home was on the other side of town, too far from the hospital. I wanted to be there when..." he says, but then stops abruptly.
Your head gets lighter and lighter "Mhm, mhm," you mumble "Joel?" you say "Talk to me some more." you add, closing your eyes.
"'bout what?" he asks, you feel him so close, you can't open your eyes, you're so tired.
"What did we do before the hospital? We worked together, right?" he caresses your head, it's such a sweet gesture, so intimate in a way.
"Yes, we were a good team, and you were the most dogged and capable worker of all. You, Tommy and I were friends as well as colleagues..."
JANUARY 2012
"Please," Joel says holding the door open for you, you smile at him lowering your gaze for a moment and then look up to the venue, it's a very nice, refined, cozy place.
"It's a beautiful place," you say when he moves a chair to let you seat, you smile looking first at the warm colors of the venue and then you dwell on the beautiful man in front of you who finally invited you out, you are so excited that you are afraid to say or do something wrong that might ruin everything, he smiles at you and seems just as nervous as you. It's so different Joel away from work, the worker Joel is precise, even rigid and prickly at times; while the man in front of you is shy, sweet, actually he always has been with you, aided by the fact that you work well - those are not your words, but everyone starting with Katherine and your four department colleagues, and then including the executive and monitoring team and finally Joel and Tommy themselves apart from your mutual liking and affection.
Joel taps his fingers on the table, he should order something to drink, but he is too focused on watching how you arrange your hair on your shoulders, how you curl a strand of hair around one of your fingers, how you smile as you lower your gaze, he finds it so tender and sexy that he has to pull himself together, he always found you sweet and delicate, precise and decisive, strong and resolute, a fatal mix in his eyes. He has always found you beautiful since the first time he saw you in that alley, eyes full of fear, fearful of him and Tommy, and today inviting you was an achievement in his eyes.
"I'm glad ya accepted my invitation," he says, looking at you stealthily.
"If the boss calls!" you joke with a shy smile lighting up your eyes, and when that happens, Joel can't help but smile too.
"was hoping ya'd say ya were pleased to receive a friend's invitation, I mean…we met before work, right?" you nod nervously bringing your hands to the table "If it bothers ya…"
"Oh no, no, no." you interrupt him by settling better in your chair "Forgive me, I didn't mean to snap or be rude, it's just…"
"Afraid that someone from work might see us together? If there's a problem," he says interrupting you "Tell me and I'll set him straight." he adds, you know he would be capable of it, Joel would really do anything for the people he cares or loves. You smile shaking your head, "My door 's always open for ya, remember." he adds again taking your hand in his "Don't get me wrong, it's just that... I love ya and I want ya to be able to work as peacefully as possible and feel as comfortable as possible." you can't help but look at your joined hands, your hand clasped in his, at how big, warm and enveloping is, at how this gesture is so intimate and familiar.
Joel's heart beats fast in his chest, he takes great pleasure in seeing that you did not avoid his touch, that you are not bothered or said words full of annoyance.
"I love you too, Miller."
JANUARY 2014
"I don't remember," you tell him in a light voice, almost as if you were speaking to him in a dream. You feel his hands wrapping around yours, "Don't worry, it'll take time, but ya will remember," he says trying to soothe you about this your confusion.
"Do you know how I feel?" you say again, "Like I'm surrounded by thick clouds of fog, what you've told me is like I've lived it in a dream. I wish I could remember everything you are telling me, but..." he nods lowering his head, then he looks up again and kisses your forehead in a gentle gesture, you instinctively close your eyes savoring his soft lips on your forehead tickled at the same time by his beard.
"Ssshh, don't worry," he says still smiling at you weakly "If necessary, I'll tell ya everything since we met, ya don't have to worry about that."
"Joel..." you whisper "when, I had the accident? Was it before everything," you say looking around, "ended?"
"Happened on the second day, all of Seattle went crazy, stores besieged, pharmacies, people were out of control." he pauses squeezing your hand tighter between his "It was the end of the world, the cancer that hit us was spreading like wildfire, everywhere. Children, women, men, the elderly, no one could escape it." he adds.
"And how did we survive?" you ask again, your head getting lighter and lighter.
"It was ya, from the moment ya heard about these fevers and mysterious attacks, ya started stocking up on canned food, protein bars, water, medicine, anything that could be useful for survival. Ya immediately informed Tommy and me, but also other colleagues of yours. Only Tommy and I listened to ya though, the others thought ya were being influenced by the news from TV." he concludes "Now no more questions, rest. Let's continue later."
"Promise?" you ask, by now your voice a pale echo.
"Promise. Trust me." he says, caressing your head once more.
"Trust me..." you repeat and then give in to the drug-induced sleep.
Suddenly you wake up when you hear gunshots, "Joel!" you're in complete darkness, you feel your heart in your throat "Joel!" you cry out frightened and getting up suddenly, Joel reaches you "Hey, hey, hey," he takes you in his arms hugging you "ssh, quiet, baby, I'm here!" you hide your face in the crook of his neck, his hand in your hair "ssh, ssh, ssh, it's okay, I'm here, I'm here." he smoothly repeats, as outside the gunfire continues, you cling to him throwing your arms around his neck, shaking.
You hear inhuman screams and gasps, those same gasps you heard in the hospital, followed by gunshots and more human screams.
"I don't understand…" you are going to say, but he shushes you again by holding you to him, you close your eyes feeling your heart beating hard in your chest "please take me away, I don't want to be here," you whisper in his ear.
"That was the plan," he also whispers in your ear "I was coming to you to get ya, everything was ready. I had even packed my backpacks," you feel his hand tighten just a little more in your hair "then Tommy called…"
"Tommy…" you repeat his name "He's… your brother, right?" you ask, pulling away from him by loosening your grip.
"Yes, the two of you were-- you are very close." he tells you "That morning, he was in a bar and I don't know what he was doing there, but the fact is that he got into a fight with a couple of drunks, or so he said. You as soon as ya heard that he was in danger, you rushed over."
"What about you? Were you with him? I called you, what happened?" you ask looking into his eyes for what is possible.
Joel caresses your cheek in a distracted gesture "No, but you told me on the phone what happened to my brother and I reached ya right away. Tommy was fighting with such fury, I'd never seen him like that…I didn't think twice about…" he swallows "killing that person, that one was growling, making non-human sounds." he looks you in the eye "It was hell in the city, people running, people screaming, people storming stores, violence. We were no longer us, none of us were anymore." he concludes.
You turn your head the other way to the window from which the screams came, now there is only the pelting rain and a few flashes of lightning lighting up the sky. Whatever happened, it's over. Joel follows you a half-step away "Don't look out the window, it's dangerous," you look at him or, rather, half-turn toward him "people, those who survived, are like crazy. Everyone is trying to survive as best they can," he adds again.
You have a headache again, but you do your best to push away that throbbing pain "And why didn't you leave? I mean, I could never wake up and you could have abandoned me in that hospital with those... those things and go away, why didn't you go away?"
He reaches out to you taking your head in his hands, "I could never, never leave ya. I came every day, I'm the one who at one point, when I saw that you were starting to wake up, I unplugged all the monitors because you were showing all the signs of healing. Before to do that, I did the crazy thing of documenting myself in the library. I couldn't leave you there, I would never allow that."
"But why?" you insist again.
"Because -- because we're friends, you and I, even though you don't remember."
You find yourself blinking, "How did I end up in the hospital? Was it in that bar you were telling me about?"
You can't see his expression clearly given the almost total darkness surrounding you, "There was a widespread confusion, inside that bar, outside, people were running, some people started showing signs of infection and attacking others, then there were pile-ups and a car smashed through the glazing of that place, you were ahead of us and it hit ya."
You lower your head, close your eyes, and for a few moments you feel pain, screaming, your light-headed, someone calling you repeatedly, someone shouting to take you to the emergency room right away, then it all fades.
"How long was I in that state?" you ask in a whisper.
"Almost four months." he replies "You were lucky, you broke your legs plus various bruises," he adds, caressing your head.
You step back and go back to sit on the couch, taking your head in your hands, "Tommy, why isn't he with you? You-- you said the three of us were friends, but then where is he?"
He sits next to you barely making the couch squeak, "We took ya to the hospital together, there they told us they would take care of you and for a while we stayed with ya, then the contagion spread there too. Tommy and I got separated there in the ER, he just yelled to me that he would do anything to join Maria in Jackson."
"Maria? Jackson?" you ask confused "Who is Maria? His, uh, wife? His fiancée? Do I know her?"
"No, no, he met her outside of work, I don't know if he ever introduced her to you. I don't know her. Let's just say I was very strict with him from that point of view," Joel replied, sighing loudly.
"He loved having good time, I guess," you state.
"Nice guess, baby." says Joel turning to you and gently stroking the back of your head "How's your head, rather? Do you still have pain?"
"No, pain no, but I feel slightly nauseous." you answer.
Joel stands up, "Listen, under normal circumstances, I'd take ya to a doctor. Chances are you weren't ready for everything you've already done or listened." he tells you "You hungry?" he gets up and takes a jar from his backpack "We could eat one of these Van Camp's Pork and Beans, what d' ya think?" you nod "For two? " you nod again, at that moment a first loud clap of thunder echoes along the city streets and in that dingy apartment, you and Joel find yourself silently eating from those tin cans, every now and then he glances your way perhaps to make sure you are all right and have no meltdowns of any kind. When you finish eating, Joel takes the tin cans and leaves them on a shelf in the kitchen, walks you to the bathroom door fearing you might fall or get dizzy; he leaves you a small flashlight advising you not to point at the window for any reason and then closes the door behind him giving you some privacy.
You almost feel like you're in a blender, all these events of the past and present swirling almost meaninglessly in your head, you have a lot of confusion: you, Joel and Tommy were friends, according to him, Tommy left, Joel stayed. Why did he stay? Joel did not answer your question yet. Also, Joel said the three of you worked together, but what did you do? Were you an engineer, an architect, a factory worker, a doctor, an astronaut, who were you?
FEBRUARY 2012
"I'm saying this for you, there's something between Charlotte and Joel!" Jane says again while the two of you are waiting for the bus "Think about it, Charlotte was very nervous last month after talking to Joel and he, who's not funny at all, treats her badly, but the worse he treats her the more she seeks him out!"
"I don't understand your reasoning, if a person treats another badly then it's not love!" you insist.
"Forget 'bout love, but what if just it's sex?" she continues, you feel a painful grip, luckily the bus arrives at that moment and you can hide your tears and that sense of inadequacy and inferiority that is making its way inside of you "Sorry, but I don't want you to get hurt. I'm glad I realized who Tommy was, a guy who likes to have good time! Unfortunately, I think it's a Millers characteristic..." by now you don't listen to her anymore, you can't nor you want to believe that the sweet and shy man you dated three weeks ago at the same time is dating someone else, no, you don't want to believe it, what you always believed you can well read are Joel's eyes, his words and actions may lie, but not his eyes. His eyes inspired and inspire you trust and affection, you can't believe he can pretend like that.
Your stop is only a few blocks away, you get off the bus and head towards the company building, you swipe your pass to get into the elevator and get on, Jane apologizes for being so direct with you, but you just tell her a don't worry, it's okay, but the your tone of voice is distant, she understands because she doesn't insist. When the doors open, Charlotte is the first person you see, and she is glowing that morning, handing you a coffee, and you don't know if Jane's words made you paranoid, but the fact is that the way she speaks and what she says seems to you an obvious allusion to you, to Joel, to Tommy, to your friendship. You try not to show yourself piqued by his tone and words, you don't want to have a case of hysteria and run to Joel to ask him if it is true that he dates Charlotte off of work, rather you focus on work and put all your thoughts on hold. On the other hand, you and Joel are just friends, he can see whoever he wants, it's you who have a big crush on him.
"Everyone's attention, please," Katherine says after almost five hours of hard work, "these are Kyle and Arnold, from now on they are part of the team, so I invite you to make 'em feel welcome right away, if you need anything," she says turning to the two men, "ask me or her," she says pointing at you and immediately mentioning your name, the two men look at you and you can't help but feel flattered and at the same time a little embarrassed, then Katherine invites them to settle at their desks and later she will explain to them the work they will have to do.
Kyle is a young man in his late thirties, he has blond hair, bright eyes, lean body, and a very simple look. Arnold is in his early forties, he's bald, brown eyes and a hint of a mustache and beard, broad shoulders and a athletic build. They all greet you with a handshake and a big smile. Well, that's the best way to start working together!
The day thankfully spends pleasantly and all of you spend your break together, you find out that your two new colleagues are very nice and friendly, Kyle is from Texas like the Millers - and that's a point to his favor - Arnold is from New York and told you many stories from his youth in the Big Apple, stories that made you laugh out loud, when you turn to the elevator, you see Joel who pretends to look at some papers he had in his hands and presses the elevator button and leaves.
JANUARY 2014
Joel doesn't know exactly why he remembered that very day when the two new interns arrived, perhaps he remembered about of your sweet smile and your loud laugh that made him smile and brighted his days in such a dark time when there is no reason to be cheerful.
He doesn't want to be intrusive, but he is genuinely concerned about you, maybe he should have been less direct about what is happening to all humankind, maybe you need a little more time, although time is precious in this reality and it may be short.
You open the door, your head and eyes down and your flashlight pointed at the cracked tiles, then you look up, "Tomorrow, if you want we can go, anywhere you want."
Joel finds himself nodding and smiling at you "I'll keep you safe, I promise. Trust me."
#joel fic#joel x reader#joel miller fanfic#joel miller x reader#joel miller fanfiction#the last of us#pedro pascal#joel miller#joel the last of us#joel the last of us hbo#joel tlou#joel x you#joel miller smut#joel miller the last of us#soft! joel miller#the last of us hbo#tlou fanfiction#tlou fic#towl ff#joel fluff#joel miller fic#joel miller fluff#joel miller series
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One Door Closes & Another One Opens
Joel x OFC!Divorce Lawyer
Explicit, 18+
Voice To The Face
Main MasterList & Series Masterlist - My AO3
Summary: She’s a divorce attorney and he’s a husband looking for help to save his daughter, and himself, from his gambling addict wife. Renae Russo is a woman who fights for her clients and wins. She’s satisfied with her life and what she does - but she wishes she could have a little more. What happens when Joel Miller becomes her client and she gets to see this man fight for the safety of his ten year old daughter, Sarah. Will she be able to keep it professional?
Chapter Summary: Both Joel and Renae finally find the courage to make the right decisions to better their lives and find true happiness, partially together and partially not. Better late than never.
Word count: 5.8k
—
Mindlessly pacing back and forth in Tommy’s backyard, Joel can’t seem to stop talking to Renae. The conversation flows so easily, there’s no awkward silence, no vile words being thrown around, no drunken nonsense, and no slot machine music in the background. It’s the first time in years Joel feels listened to and has someone who actually engages in conversation.
His flip-flops pop on the cement that surrounds the inground pool - he’s probably done at least two dozen laps in a matter of minutes. The sky has changed to a soft blue with a hue of orange coming from the sun that’s starting to set, soft bubble-like clouds scatter the sky, and the vibrant oak and ash trees dance with the wind that lightly blows. Summers in Austin can be outright magical, but they can also be dangerously hot. Thankfully this year has been more of the cooler weather, but Joel’s not gonna jinx it because he’s noticed as he gets older, he hates the heat.
Joel didn’t expect to be by the pool for this call, so his jeans stick to his sweaty legs and groin as he paces, making him adjust his semi-hard cock that's been fighting with his zipper. If he would’ve known the first call with a divorce lawyer would’ve gone this way, he wouldn’t have been around Tommy. He started the call sitting with Tommy in his front lawn, both sitting around an ash-filled fire pit with whiskeys in each other's hands, but after about five minutes of Tommy wanting to know every tiny bit of what she was saying, Joel just stood up and walked to the backyard, whiskey in hand.
The phone call started out professional; he went into extreme detail about his financial details, how he wants physical and sole custody of Sarah with no strings to Annie, and that he wants to keep everything except the Toyota. She can keep that damn thing for all he cares, it’s of no use to him.
However, about thirty minutes into the call, after Joel mentioned he also wants to keep the cabin he and Annie bought when they first got together, Renae is the one to change the energy of the call from business to somewhat casual. She talks about how she loves camping in cabins and that she hasn’t gone camping in over a decade, and Joel makes sure to remember that she’s been to ten different campsites in Texas.
If things go a certain direction, he might be able to help her add to that list. At the same time, Joel can’t stop from thinking how he’s already looking into the future with her, during a time where he’s getting divorced. But he quickly finds himself getting distracted by the way her business voice morphed into this bubbly, sarcastic one that has Joel hypnotized by her every word.
And just like that, the floodgates open and the divorce talk is forgotten about completely by both parties.
Another thirty minutes go by of Joel and Renae getting to know each other through talking about fun activities they’ve individually done in the past and things they both enjoy. He talks about things he’s done with Sarah throughout her life, the memories of going to Disney World, to Cedar Point, the Grand Canyon all start to play out like a movie in his brain. Joel hasn’t thought about some of the things that play for him right now in some years - he’s been too occupied to reminisce about the past, so he goes silent for a moment getting lost in little Sarah giggles and hugs.
“That reminds me of the time my sister and I went tubin’ and both of us flew- and when I say flew, I mean we went like ten feet in the air!” She laughs on the other side of the phone.
Seriously? Joel can’t help but chuckle as he asks her, his left hand rubs the back of his neck as he passes the metal handle that leads to the pool steps. Circling for what could very well be the hundredth time.
“Yes, Joel, my dad is insane when it comes to his boat. But I wouldn’t have anyone else drive it, and he wouldn’t either.”
“That sounds like a smart man to me. Sounds like me with my pontoon.”
“Joel, stop it right now,” her southern twang takes control as she drags out her words almost in a whiny voice, but not annoying like Annie. Quite the opposite, actually, any tone from Renae has Joel drooling from his mouth and dick.
“You keep surprisin’ me with these fun little facts about you.”
Heat rushes instantly to his face, and he’s so taken aback that his feet plant themselves and he drags his fingers through the top of his curls and stops them on the back of his head, where he softly scratches his scalp. Something about her smart-ass attitude, silk-like voice, and confident cadence all combined and tied with a large bow to make it better has him not feeling like himself, and he can’t tell if that’s good or not.
“I’ve lived a pretty full life darlin’, there’s lots of things you’d learn from me.”
Joel feels like he must be on a roll or something because of the way she giggles; it’s almost like he can see her sun kissed cheeks start to turn red and her teeth shine from her smile. His heart beat thumps in his chest and cock that’s now supported by the waistband of his boxers and jeans. Thankfully he’s somewhat smart enough to have his back facing the two story home to hide the effects from this one woman.
“Well, since you’re offering, I couldn’t possibly pass that up. That would just be pretty dumb of me.” Joel knows she’s serious but he also hears the bit of sarcasm that laces her words. It’s like a fun game of cat and mouse, who’s gonna fold first, and Joel is loving every second of it.
Joel’s body feels light and airy, his chest isn’t tight. Most importantly, he’s not walking on eggshells. It’s become so natural for him to always be on alert and pay attention to the little inflections of someone’s voice and body language, but that hasn’t happened once since he’s been on this call. It’s refreshing to have a simple, yet meaningful, conversation with someone - her slight southern charm with some street knowledge, and with him knowing her physical attributes, Joel can’t complain in the slightest.
He feels like he’s hit the lottery with Renae and he hasn’t even met her yet.
“Well sugar, how about I come to see ya’ tomorrow ‘n I’ll teach ya’ some things.” The second glass of whiskey gives Joel the confidence he needs to keep up the playful banter and not feel self conscious about it. A second goes by and he swears he hears her try to cover up another giggle, I still got it. Joel hasn’t flirted in years, after so long he was convinced he could never do it again and he was going to be this cold hearted old man for the rest of his life.
“Come by anytime between noon and four,” she says, her voice low and sweet, “Just say you’re here for Russo and she’ll bring you to me.”
“Someone’s eager,” Joel can’t help but grin, “But it sounds like a deal, darlin’.”
“Well I wanna put a face to the smooth voice- uh, I-” she’s now stumbling on her words trying to hide the fact that she just slipped up more than she wanted to. “You may want to bring paper copies of bills, properties you own, and any evidence against Annie that you have. Ya’ know, for our first conciliation- free of charge for you.”
“Will get as much as I can by then-”
“Dad!”
Joel spins around and sees Sarah standing in the doorway with her Nightmare Before Christmas pajama set and her brown hair is pulled up in a high bun that sits on her head. “Are you done yet? I wanna play uno before bed!” She shouts with both of her hands sitting on her hips as she pops her left hip out dramatically and her face has a scowl the size of a monster.
He can’t help but snort at the amount of attitude that spews out of his four foot daughter - oddly enough, he hears Renae snickering in his right ear.
“Give me one minute, kiddo, just gotta finish this call.”
“Ugh, you said that over an hour ago,” Sarah groans and spins around to storm off into Tommy’s, but before she takes a step Joel is quick to check her. He lets some attitude and smart ass comments fly, but not when it comes to something like this. It’s too close to her coming off as a snooty kid - which is not the kind of behavior he will tolerate.
He rests his phone on his chest as his voice booms across the pool and yard from her, “Would ya’ rather just go to bed?” This stops her and causes her to turn her head. I’m sorry, she apologizes. He nods and she’s gone inside. Then he shakes his head, raising his left hand to his face as he rubs the corner of his eye for a moment to collect himself.
“Sorry ‘bout that-“
“Don’t be,” Renae interrupts him, “When duty calls you gotta act on it, I get it. Well, not cause of kids, but- you know what I mean. Anyways, I’ll let you go for the night and I’ll see you tomorrow Mr. Joel Miller.”
He doesn’t want to hang up, he could talk with her for hours and hours. But ultimately he knows he has to, there’s no other option. He’s been dreading this part of the call, partially due to the fact he knows he’s gotta go back to reality.
“Alrighty, Ms. Russo,” he purrs, “Rest up so ya’ can see if my face meets your expectations.”
Renae giggles and the shaking of her bracelets clangs together faintly in the background. “Night, Joel.”
Then just like that, she hangs up. Leaving Joel smirking like a fifteen year old boy who just talked to his first crush and got her number. But now he’s alone with his conflicting thoughts and feelings about how he should handle this delicate situation.
—
On my way back now, a client surprised me. Be home in 10<3
Renae hits send to Gia, who texted her about five minutes ago reminding Renae that she said she’d be home no later than six-thirty - it's ten after seven. Renae had gotten distracted by her phone call with Joel, that she forgot her sister and niece were even in town. There was just something about him that entranced her and kept her wanting to learn more and more about him and who he is as a person.
Renae’s phone goes off with a ding, and she picks it up and unlocks it to see a response.
Kk I just got B out the bath and she’s playing with Frankie, see you when you get here<3
Renae smiles and holds down the message and presses the heart reaction, letting Gia know she read it. After tossing her phone in her purse on her passenger side, she puts her car in drive and heads home.
But she can’t stop thinking of Joel. The way his southern drawl slurs his words just a bit, his laugh deep and sounds like it starts in his belly and climbs into his chest, and the way he talks so highly of his daughter like she’s the most precious thing to him. It’s almost too perfect - but yet again, he is getting divorced, so maybe that’s his red flag. She can’t help but think maybe he wasn’t so innocent in the way things ended with Annie, because there’s two sides to every story.
Even with those negative things floating around her head, she can’t leave the idea of Joel alone. Renae can’t think of the last time a man who has been open about emotions and relationships and a stand up guy all around.
Well, that’s kind of a lie.
Dominic Amaro.
That man will forever be the standard of a boyfriend that Renae will ever have. When they broke up, she told herself that she would never settle for anything less than that and she has upheld that since then. It hasn’t been easy, Renae’s used to the toxic, needy guys - for some god awful reason - so she’s had to learn how to steer clear from those people.
Joel seems to be the opposite of what she would be into, however she’s only basing this off of his voice and personality with a mix of his playful humor.
Sugar, darlin’, Ms. Russo.
Renae can’t stop replaying those words in Joel’s voice. She’s hooked, addicted even. She’s not sure how she’s gonna be able to keep her composure tomorrow. If he looks anything like she imagines - she’s fucked, and not in a good way.
Well, maybe…who knows?
By the time she reaches her apartment complex, she’s already looking forward to sleeping. But she knows she can't. Bianca is going to want to watch The Princess Bride before she goes to bed tonight. It's become tradition since the first time Bianca traveled five years ago. The first night they stayed, Gia suggested it and Bianca just fell in love with the movie. The next time they visited, Renae surprised Bianca with baking sugar cookies before the movie so they would be done about half way through. Then they could snack on some treats while enjoying the movie before they all went to bed.
It’s helped heal a bit of Renae’s broken heart that she denies having; being able to create joy for Bianca out of something so minuscule is all Renae needs.
“I’m back!” She announces as she pushes her front door open and instantly spots everyone in the living room to her left. “So sorry I’m late, I got caught up on a call.” She can feel Gina’s eyes scorning her back as Renae faces her kitchen, setting down her purse and laptop bag. Like she always does.
But before Gia can get a word out, Bianca is at Renae’s hip, saving her from any bullshit her mom was about to unleash. “It’s okay, we got the movie all set and got the cookies mixed up, they just gotta go in the oven!” Bianca squeals as she looks up at Renae with this enormous smile that Renae can’t help but feel warm and fuzzy; she looks so much like a mix of Gia and Renae, the Russo genes are strong.
“Lovebug, you are the bomb,” Renae lowers her right hand a low five, which Bianca smacks hard. “Just lemme’ go change and we can start!”
“Okay!” Bianca cheers as she hugs Renae’s hips and runs back into the living room with Gia and Frankie. The apartment is now filled with puppy barks and growls as Bianca plays tug-a-war with him on the dark gray carpet that has a hint of navy blue to it, that covers the living room.
“Can I talk with you for just a second?” Gia asks with a snide tone while standing up from the navy leather couch, then walking behind Renae who’s heading to her room.
“Don’t think I have much of a choice,” Renae sighs in defeat while opening her bedroom door. In a strange way, she now feels like the little sister who’s about to get scolded by the older one for god knows what. However, deep down Renae knows that Gia can sense something is up. When she and Bianca are in town, Renae is never late and won’t ever give a half-assed excuse, for anything - so Gia definitely knows something is different.
Before Renae can even get one heel off, Gia is already shooting off a hundred questions at once. To anyone else it would sound like pure gibberish, but Renae has no problem making out each word and being able to understand them.
So who’s the guy? How old? Does he have money? Is he tall? Fat? Skinny? Short? How long has this been goin’ on? Are you and Dominic talking again? You only glow like this when you’re with or talking with him- She takes a split second to gasp out of a realization, oh my god…it is Dominic. When were you gonna tell me? How long?
By the time she’s finished with her array of questions, Renae has already changed into her oversized tee and shorts and is now in her bathroom relieving her face from the makeup that’s melted to her face from the brutal heat. Completely ignoring her sisters ridiculous blabbering, but yet hating the fact that she’s right - partially.
With both her hands flat on the pearl white countertop next to the matching white square sink that sits above the counter, instead of in it. A little touch of something different than any other place she was looking at to rent, the bathroom is really what sold her on this one bedroom, one and a half bathroom apartment.
She observes her reflection opposite of her, she can tell there is a small glow that shines from her face; her cheeks have a brighter color to them, her green eyes piercing but soft, her shoulders are relaxed and low. She’s not tense, like she has been for the last few years. Not because of anything in particular, she just hasn't been able to let loose like she wants.
After a few more seconds of taking in her appearance, she sees how happy she looks. The defined lines in between her eyebrows are softer, the smiles lines grow from the permanent smile that paints her lips. Her eyes are full of hope and desire, much like how she feels about tomorrow. The promise of tomorrow is what’s keeping her light on her toes; the possibility of something new and unfamiliar excites Renae.
She has to venture out of her comfort zone, Dominic can’t be her safety net forever.
“Hello,” Gia drags out as she vigorously flips the light switch on and off, “Earth to Renae, anyone home?”
“Shit, yeah.” Renae shakes her head before she slides her bracelets off, along with her rings, and hoops. Then setting them on the counter next to the sink; knowing that she’ll more than likely wear them tomorrow, she doesn’t put them in her jewelry stand.
Quickly glancing over to her sister and her bump, who’s no more than a couple meters away, Renae smiles at the fact Gia is living her life exactly how she wants. The jealousy still lingers in her soul, it always will, but it’s pushed into the back of her mind for now. She goes back to her reflection and starts to put her thick hair into a low bun that sits at the bottom of her neck.
“For your information, Dominic and I aren’t back together, but we have been talking-“
“I knew it!”
Renae now completely faces Gia with a playful - kinda annoyed - expression, “Bitch, are you gonna let me finish? Or do ya’ not want the story?” Crossing her arms in front of her chest and popping her right hip that bumps into the drawer.
“Can’t help myself!” Gia scoffs as she turns around and sits on Renae’s bed, one hand planted behind her supporting her body up and the other one spreads across her belly. Her worn gray Yankee’s tee lifts enough for her belly button to pop out, Renae can't stop her lips from curving up. Pure love and compassion pours out of her whole demeanor. Seeing Gia legitimately happy and enjoying herself and her life, getting everything she wants and needs for her and her family, is such a beautiful feeling for Renae.
The big sister finally feels like the baby has finally found herself and it digs at her a little bit because she doesn’t need Renae. At least not like they did as kids. But it also fills her with this accomplished spirit because Renae was the one who pushed Gia to move to New York and make that one last step.
Now look at Gia; a badass business owner, wife, mother, and homeowner.
“I get excited when this shit happens to you, Rae… Cause you deserve it and I want it so badly for you.” Gia’s tone is now low and sincere, her body language even. She swipes the loose pieces of her shoulder length hair that’s a bright cherry blonde behind her ears and slightly sitting forward. Almost too fast for Renae to catch but she sees a small tear fall down Gia’s cheek before she quickly wipes it away with her right hand.
“Please know that I’m rooting for you in every way possible, even with our little tit-for-tat shit we do.”
Renae now in the doorway between her bedroom and bathroom with the right side of her body leaning against the frame, her left leg crossed behind her right one that supports her body and her arms still folded. The image of her pregnant sister in front of her instantly soothes her body and mind, she can never stay mad at Gia.
“Don’t go gettin’ all fuckin’ sappy on me,” Renae chuckles, “Buck up, camper.”
“Whatever, so how’s Dominic and his ma?”
“Not good, uh, he told me she’s maybe got a year left in her. Her organs just are not functioning like they should, so he’s pretty shaken by that.”
“Aw, Rae. I’m sorry, honey.”
“Yeah, well, anyway Dominic is comin’ to visit next month, so I invited him to stay with me for those few days he’s here.” Renae watches as Gia’s eyes bulge and her mouth starts to open, however she’s quick to stop her. “Nothing serious is gonna come outta it, I just figured if he’s gonna be in Austin he could save money by staying here. And maybe we’ll fuck or not, I don’t know okay?”
“I didn’t say anything,” Gia smirks as she raises her hands in surrender. “But I know that’s not everything that happened today… Spill.” Both her hands back on the mattress supporting her body as she leans back a bit with a cocky smirk.
Renae can’t help herself from laughing as she turns to flick the light off in the bathroom and slides past Gia towards the door that leads out to the rest of her apartment. She doesn’t want to explain the Joel situation right now mostly because she hasn’t even met him yet, so she really has nothing to go on. She’ll fill Gia in tomorrow after her meeting with him.
“Nice try, your daughter’s waiting for us.” She flicks her bedroom light off, “In five seconds I bet she’ll call for us. Five…four…three…two..”
“Mamaaa, are y’all almost ready?”
In her dark room the two sisters can’t help the burst of laughter and snorts that leave their mouths at the perfect timing of Bianca’s voice from the living room. Renae was just trying to switch the topic of conversation off of her before she got stuck answering to her sister.
Even though she’s a lawyer - a very good one - Gia is able to corner Renae into telling her things. She’s never been able to understand why her baby sister is the one to crack her and it’s been like this since Gia could talk. So Renae found out she has to switch the conversation or just leave the area, because otherwise Gia will sit there and pick apart every minute detail that Renae subconsciously tells.
“We’re comin’, lovebug!”
—
The flicking of Renae’s nails on her thumb and ring finger on her right hand takes over the office, her nerves tingling with anticipation. It’s the first time she’s ever been nervous to meet a client. Well frankly, she’s never had a client like this before.
She can’t stop pacing her office; around her desk, around the table that sits in the middle of her room, up and down the length of her five foot window as she stares down twelve stories at the people who look like ants. Her stomach is in knots, her throat feels dry even though she’s pounded a couple of bottles of water.
Burning rays of sun shine down on her through the window pane, causing her to turn back to her office as she scans her surroundings. Making sure everything is exactly how she wants it and nothing is slightly out of place; first impressions are huge for her.
Renae’s office is her prized possession, she’s worked her ass off to get where she is; right after high school she jumped into college - four years of college to get her bachelors in Sociology and then she did three years in Law school. Luckily she knew Rachel York through a family friend, who put a good word in for Renae and was able to start at R&R Law Firm immediately. So the last thing she wants is for a client to walk in and be instantly turned away by how her space is decorated or kept together.
Maybe that’s a stretch for anyone to think but she’s heard plenty of stories from other attorneys, where their desk wasn’t kept up completely and the client complained about him being disorganized. So ever since then Renae has been a stickler about her work space.
Why did I give him such a huge window of time? She repeats on a loop in different ways so she can try to understand her logic, but there’s no right or wrong answer. She was simply too distracted by him and too eager to meet him to even think about giving correct information. She cracks her thin fingers on both hands and a little bit of her tension is broken, at least in her hands - the other parts of her body are another story.
She tilts her head up to the clock above her desk, one o’clock on the dot. She inhales through her nose and lets it sit in her chest for a second, then exhales through her mouth once to try to escape the reality of meeting Joel. But it doesn’t help. She walks about her mahogany desk and sits in her matching colored office chair, adjusting her fitting white button-up that’s tucked into her high waisted baby blue dress pants so she’s comfortable.
Her usual curly hair, now pin straight with a middle part, reaches the top of her butt and a few money pieces in front of her shoulders and temples on her face. The gold of her jewelry shimmers with her sun-kissed skin that lays underneath the thick, choker-like chain necklace, accompanied by her medium sized hoops, bangles on each wrist and groupings of rings on either hand. Her French tipped acrylics being the cherry on top for her.
“Knock, knock.”
Renae stops like she just got caught sneaking out the house as a teenager.
He’s here. Holy shit. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
With her open toed white heels she spins her chair towards her door to see the mystery man that she already knows is going to uproot her life. Her body stops all movements, but her brain is working a mile a minute.
He’s from the diner… He’s the hot man from the diner.
But he’s cleaned himself up. He’s now crossed the threshold of the door about five or six feet away from her, give or take. First thing that catches her eye is how he shaved his face, keeping the mustache so not quite a baby face but not the full beard she loved yesterday. His salt and pepper curls are combed back and not messy, it even looks like he may have gotten a small haircut on the top. His dark chocolate orbs glistening along with his tanned skin from the sun that beats in from the window across the room.
She can’t believe this, it’s almost comical. In fact, she can’t help but laugh and slightly shake her head side to side while she stares up into his eyes. Joel does the same as he holds a stack of papers in a Manila folder tucked between his left bicep that’s covered by a light gray button up, which is bunched up and about ready to rip and his side.
“So you’re Joel Miller?” She giggles as she pushes herself out of her chair and steps towards him to properly greet him, for real this time and not just a quick moment of intimate eye contact while she walks away.
“This is me, darlin’,” he says, and she watches his eyes do a quick up and down gaze of her body as she gets closer. Her heart flutters at his voice, it's soft but deep like it comes from his chest and his southern tone is heavy when it comes to pet names.
Now directly in front of him, Renae extends her arm to shake his hand - for more reasons than one - her thin gold bangles chime together.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Miller”
Joel’s quick to grasp her hand, which is completely swallowed by his thick, calloused hand that squeezes for a second, “Likewise Ms. Russo.” His voice is like honey that drips and drips, having Renae begging for more of it.
—
“So you did know it was me before you came here?” Renae questions Joel with a smirk, as she barely sways her chair and pops her gum, while he sits across her desk.
Joel shifts his body just enough so his shoulder blades now rest on the back of the leather swivel chair, his right hand scratches his stubble while he chuckles at her reaction. His eyes roam around her body, even though she’s all he wants to look at. He’s partially embarrassed because he feels like a stalker of some kind, even though she’s reassured him that he’s not dozens and dozens of times.
It’s been close to two hours since he arrived at her office. The first hour was all about the divorce bullshit he’ll have to go through; canceling insurance on Annie’s Toyota and changing the title to her name, taking her off his phone plan, changing locks, taking her off of the family insurance policy. Then the worst two things that he wanted to avoid at all cost, he found out he’s going to have to deal with it - the whole process will take four months minimum because there’s a child involved and that he’s going to have to fight for physical and sole custody because Annie’s going to, and already is, fighting it.
Renae could tell he was feeling down and out of sorts just by the way his whole body tensed when Sarah came up in the conversation. So she swiftly changed the course of their conversation and turned it more easy-going and natural than the previous. Which ended up turning into an hour of joking about the fact they have somewhat already met one another and the fact the odds of that happening are slim to none.
“Yes… But,” he sits up, now halfway off the seat and his elbows rest on his knees, while his palms and fingertips pressed together, “I just happened to click on R&R Law Firm. I saw your picture - beautiful one by the way - ‘N I told myself, or, made myself is a better way to describe it. And I had to just make the call.”
Joel loves the way her face brightens whenever he compliments her or he makes a joke that she finds hilarious; the way her nose scrunches when she tries to hide her laughter or smile, makes it hard for him to stop staring. He’s just getting to know her and he’s already obsessed, addicted, fixated. It’s kind of scary how possessive he already feels around Renae.
“Thank you. It’s an old picture, I’m sure you can tell,” her hands gesture to her face for a moment before she rests them back on her armrests and scoffs. “Side note, I believe you Joel. Don’t have to defend yourself, that’s what I’m here for!” Her teeth gleam with her smile as she rolls her chair a bit to her right and gently pulls the middle drawer of her desk open and grabs a sheet of paper.
“Exactly why I wanted ya, darlin’.” He draws out the beginning of ‘exactly’ as he watches her move so smoothly behind her desk. Gliding to one side and her orange strands of hair fly with her, grabbing a pen for him to use and the top part of her button-up open just enough for Joel to get a peak of her breasts, and back in the middle as she turns the paper to him.
“Just sign here,” she circles the bottom section on the front, then flips the sheet over, “‘n here and I’m all yours.” She purrs, handing the blue pen to Joel who happily takes it. Joel rarely liked the look of Annie’s too long, bright acrylics but Renae’s simple style and length makes him rethink his opinion on acrylics. He starts to think about how pretty her French tips would look wrapped around his throbbing cock or how ravishing she looks when she’s dripping with arousal as she glides through her folds and teases herself.
Mindlessly he signs the form and sets the pen on top of it before he slides it back to Renae who’s admiring him from behind her desk. Joel's brain can’t wrap around the fact that someone as gorgeous and intelligent as Renae, is even interested in a guy like Joel. Maybe too much of the belittling and the trauma from Annie has diminished his self esteem, but he can slowly feel it coming back.
She’s all mine.
#joel miller#pedro pascal#joel miller fanfic#joel miller series#joel miller smut#joel x oc#joel and sarah#joel tlou#joel the last of us#tlou joel#joel miller x ofc#joel miller x oc#joel miller fic#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x original character
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joel drabble or something (MDNI)
i feel like pre-outbreak!Joel was a sweet lover. he’d shower you with kisses, praise you, wasn’t afraid to laugh at a funny noise during sex. he’d look at you like you hung the stars and moon yourself. he’d lazily hug you from behind as you made breakfast, talk about plans of your day. and when he’d come home after long hours of work he’d cuddle up next to you, laying his head on your chest and listen to the steady drumbeat of your heart.
raider!joel was a man who took what he wanted, when he wanted. consensually, of course- the man wasn’t evil. but god willing, when he wanted you on your knees, you’d be on your knees. he was rough, manhandled you, wanted to put his focus somewhere else that wasn’t on his own pain. he just wanted to forget.
jackson!joel is a man who worships you, kisses the ground you walk on. he’s already lost so much and is learning to love again. sex is passionate and desperate with him. he’d hold you tightly while pumping into you, sometimes slowly and gently, other times greedily like you were the only thing that could keep him grounded- and often times, you were. he’d tell you how much he loved you, and he’d show it through actions by taking care of your needs first before his.
#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel tlou#joel miller tlou#the last of us hbo#tlou#joel miller x you#pedro pascal#the last of us#joel miller the last of us#joel miller imagine#joel miller fanfic#joel miller smut#joel x reader#joel the last of us#drabble
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We all just become shades of grey
#the last of us#tlou#joel the last of us#ellie the last of us#joel miller#joel tlou#joel and ellie#tlou hbo#the last of us hbo
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New wip after so many months of not being able to draw cuz art block if a b*tch 🥲🙏🏼 pls be kind 🫶🏻
#pedro pascal#the last of us#joel miller#tlou#tlou hbo#hbo#joel the last of us#the last of us hbo#fanart#tlou fanart#pedro pascal fanart#joel fanart#joel miller fanart#art#traditional drawing#traditional illustration#traditional art#sketch#wip
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Swelter
A/N: This happened because the SAG Awards made me horny. I have no other explanation for my behavior, no other defence. Maybe that I was listening to ur dad by VIAL. Obviously also a huge thanks to @strang3lov3 for being the cutest love bug I know, and for putting up with my brainstorming sessions.
Summary: You have a crush on Sarah’s father. It is summer, it is hot, and you just want a cold drink.
Pairing: Joel Miller x reader (no y/n)
Tags: +18 smut, best friend’s dad, significant age gap (reader is 19-22, Joel is in his mid-40s), SEXUAL TENSION, bee stings, groping, voyeur to some degree, f masturbation, dirty talk, an endless amount of pet names, sexy play with a soda can, praise kink, car sex, daddy kink, fingering, unprotected piv sex, joel’s cock is huge in this, creampie, premature ejaculation, pussy eating, come eating, squirting
Word count: 6.8k
Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54233479
Swelter
A warm Texas breeze blows through the open window of Sarah’s childhood room, making the see-through pink curtains move elegantly from side to side. It hits your back right underneath your halter neck as you lay on Sarah’s bed, caressing your bare skin and making you think of him. You wonder if his hands would have the same effect on you because you find yourself shivering but not from feeling cold. He is somewhere here, and his daughter doesn’t even know that her best friend obsesses about that fact.
Sarah hasn’t changed her room since she was a teenager. She told you this the first time she brought you here, which is almost a year ago today. You were here last summer too, thrilled to be invited to spend a few weeks of your summer with a friend from college and you and her have been inseparable ever since, even if you are so different from each other.
You have your face in a woman’s magazine, propped up on your elbows so you can suck on a popsicle stick whilst turning the pages. There’s a page with the recipe for ‘The Best Fudgy Chocolate Cake Ever!’ next to a page on how to lose weight, and it makes you snort.
“What?” Sarah turns on her chair, pausing the video on her computer.
“What kinda woman are you? You can choose one, but only one. Don’t get greedy now!” You make a scratchy voice but then pop your ice pop in your mouth to hold up the magazine for her to see.
“Seriously? We can’t win,” she groans dramatically, “Chocolate cake always. I just want to be happy, and that looks like a serotonin boost.”
Suddenly, the door opens without any warning. It’s him. Mr. Miller. You quickly remove the popsicle from your mouth, not about to show him how your lips are stretched around the sugary snack. The open door causes a draft to blow the smell of his cologne your way, and it is intoxicating beyond your imagination because you relish in it in secret.
“Dad,” Sarah says with exasperation, “I thought being an adult earned you the privilege of more privacy.”
“It’s gettin’ colder outside now,” he states and ignores her comment, hand resting on the doorknob, “The Adlers need Mercy to be walked, and the pavement’s coolin’ down.”
“I walked him when I was fourteen,” she furrows her brow and you suppress a snicker, “I’m twenty.”
“Just ‘cause you’re grown, don’t mean you can’t do right by ‘em,” he states matter-of-factly.
“Hi, Mr. Miller,” you say from your spot on the bed as Sarah fumes quietly, absentmindedly reaching to pull the short skirt of your dress down. He can probably see the start of your ass from how it has been riding up as you lay down on the sheets.
“Hiya darlin’,” he replies and you swear you can hear a restrained sound in his voice. He turns to Sarah again, “Get your butt off that chair.”
“Fine,” she follows through on her orders but still wants to argue, probably embarrassed at being ordered around by her father in front of her friend. She gestures to you, “And what about my guest?”
“She’s grown too, which means she can probably entertain herself the half hour you’ll be gone,” he dares wink at you, and blood courses through your veins.
“I’ll just get that assignment done while you’re out,” you reassure and try not to seem like your core is shaking.
“See?” Joel looks triumphant.
“You’d make a hell of a lawyer,” she deadpans at her father and walks past him.
When he closes the door and leaves you alone in the bedroom, you can feel your popsicle having melted, its syrupy water running down your fingers. You switch hands and suck the sticky fingers into your mouth. The action makes Mr. Miller’s image flash in your mind and you press your thighs together before getting up and finding your laptop.
You find that it’s near impossible to concentrate on proofreading your assignment in the tiny bedroom after just five minutes of being alone. It’s not that you can’t concentrate in the Summer heat but no matter what you do, your mind keeps circling back to Joel’s voice as he called you darling. It heats you more than the sun ever could, and with every tap on your keyboard, your mouth gets more and more dry.
Eventually, you push yourself to stand from your seat at the desk and make a decision to go fetch something to drink, and it is definitely not with the intention of accidentally bumping into Sarah’s father. Not even when you do not find Joel in the kitchen and decide to bypass it altogether to continue into the garage in hopes of being successful in your search for a drink (obviously).
This infatuation started last year. It took you about ten seconds - from walking into the kitchen and shaking Joel’s hand - to realize that Sarah was cursed with having him as a father. Firstly, he was outrageously handsome; always wearing washed-out t-shirts that clung to his shoulders, always smiling with teeth, sporting salt-and-pepper curls, and sometimes even shocking you by entering the kitchen with working gloves on. However, when he opened his mouth and spoke, a southern drawl dripped from his lips and made your whole body tense up. He was charming, respectful, and laughed at the right moments. Most importantly, he laughed at every damn attempt that you made at being funny, and while it was probably an attempt to be nice and make you feel at home, it spurred you on terribly to win him over at every opportunity.
Despite all that, those opportunities weren’t many. He was also cool enough to know that his daughter didn’t want him hanging around all the time, and so he spent many days either in the garden to mow the lawn in competition with the rest of the fathers down the street, in the garage to fix up some old truck, or with his brother, Tommy, and Tommy’s wife who always had some DIY-project going on.
Thus, the summer became one of tanning sessions in the garden, movies in Sarah’s room, stolen glances at Joel Miller whenever he came inside to quench his thirst after hard labor, and secret longing whenever he had kept away for too long.
One particular day last year, Sarah had failed to mention that her father would be home most of the last days you were in their house, and because he was always out, you were getting more and more comfortable with walking around in your towels post-showers or leaving the door unlocked when changing.
The particular event had happened in the morning when the house had been silent except for the kitchen where Sarah was preparing breakfast, using a large box of pancake mix and the whole fruit section of the local grocery store for topping. You had just showered, standing with your head in your suitcase to search for the last few pieces of clothing you had that were clean when there was a rap on the door and a pull of the handle not even a second later.
“Sarah, I need—“
You whipped around at the sound of a new voice entering the room. Your heart nearly burst out of your chest, feeling as though it was fighting its way out between your ribs as embarrassment began to flood your system. Even so, you stood too frozen to reach for something to cover yourself up.
Joel was in the doorway and dead silent, looking as if struck by lightning. Like earlier today, his hand had been resting on the doorknob and in the painfully short moment that the both of you were processing the situation, you saw that his grip tightened enough to whiten his knuckles.
And then it happened, the thing that had soaked you in forbidden desire and delicious excitement; his gaze had flickered down your body and taken you in for the briefest of seconds. His gaze had traveled from the hard peaks of your nipples to the shape of your hips and the softness of your young cunt.
“Fuck,” you heard him utter as he remembered himself and his self-awareness made you finally grab the top you were going to be wearing that day to cover up your quivering body. He slammed the door shut and spoke through it, “Christ, ’m so sorry, sweetheart.”
“It’s okay, Mr. Miller,” you promised but he was already gone. You immediately locked the door afterward to come so hard with two fingers on your clit that you had to hold onto the chair by the desk.
God, you want him to look at you like that again, want to tell him it is all for him. Now, as wrong as you know it is, you find yourself searching for an excuse to get him to ogle you and the chances are higher if he actually spends time with you.
“Hi, Mr. Miller,” you announce yourself as you enter the garage through the door in the kitchen. Joel has his head inside the hood of his truck, leaning over to inspect something that you wouldn’t understand anything about anyway. He grips the front side of the engine room to push himself to stand, closes the top of the hood of his truck, and turns around to face you.
“Hey kiddo,” he returns with a smile, “How many times do I gotta say to ya that it’s just Joel?”
“Alright, Mr. Miller,” you tease, “—I mean, Just Joel.”
You hear him laugh softly but you don’t dare look at him, afraid that you’ll spontaneously combust. He goes to the utility sink to wash his hands, saying nothing more and making you feel insane for coming apart in the silence.
“I’m just getting something to drink,” you explain when it becomes too much, “Sarah’s room is boiling hot.”
“That’s fine, take what you’d like,” he replies, and there’s a kind teasing in his voice. “But don’t touch the orange sodas. Those are mine.”
The concrete floor of the garage is cold on your bare feet as you pad across the floor where an old bottom-freezer refrigerator stands in the corner, humming in the otherwise quiet room. It has seen better days, and it seems like Sarah has tried to cheer up its weathered appearance by covering it in stickers and ugly magnets.
“Now I have to get one of those,” you giggle and pull the door open, scanning the contents and noticing that the sodas are on the bottom shelf. You hesitate for just a second, and then you choose to bend over instead of crouching down. Behind you, Joel Miller is completely silent.
In the beginning, it hadn’t been your intention to let the crush fester in your brain and turn it into something more but last week, during dinner out on the terrace, you had accidentally sat down on a bee and gotten stung on the back of your thigh. The cry you had let out had nearly made Joel tip over the table to get to you, his chair falling backward as he got up from his seat.
“Fuck! Ow ow ow!” You cried and hobbled around on the grass. The pain was unbearable but the shock only seemed to make it worse.
“Sarah, please get some ice and some antihistamines. There should be a bottle on my nightstand,” Joel ordered quickly and she rushed inside. He walked toward you, grabbing at your shoulders to ground you but his touch only heightened all other sensations. He dug his thumbs into you and your head swam, “Sweetheart, ‘tis just a bee, shh, calm down. I need to remove the stinger. Lemme see ya.”
“It really fucking hurts, Mr. Miller,” you said with a whine as he guided you to one of the loungers that Sarah and you had dragged out from the shed earlier that week.
“I know,” he finally let go of you so you could think just a bit more clearly, “Lemme take a look. Lie down on your front.”
You followed orders with the realization of how much you trusted his judgment, that he would treat you right, moving carefully because the flex of your thigh muscle was making the pain worse. The wooden lounger burned slightly against the front of your thighs, and you pressed your cheek into its slats while screwing your eyes shut.
The wood creaked behind you as he knelt on it with one knee and suddenly, his broad hand was perched on the top of your thigh in an attempt to keep your skin taut. You sucked in a breath but he only mistook it for more pain.
“It’s alright, sweetheart. I can see it,” his breath was slightly quicker but you didn’t want to jump to conclusions, “He really got ya right on your inner thigh. Hold on.”
Your eyes shot open when his thumb ran towards the innermost part of the back of your thigh, a sort of panicked arousal spiking from your chest and thighs. He paused for a second then murmured something, a swear word that you tried to take as frustration. There was a beat but then he cleared his throat, “Can you bend your leg a little? I wanna make sure that I get it on the first try.”
“How?” You asked stupidly. The image of how he would be looming over your backside made your heartbeat go down between your legs, “My dress’ll ride up.”
“Just bend the knee a little, pull it towards your chest,” he explained and cleared his throat once more, “On my life, I won’t look.”
So you did as he told you, and sure enough, your dress betrayed you by crawling slowly up to sit around your hip instead of the middle part of your thigh. You looked back at him when he started picking at the stinger with his nails, and you hoped that he would not notice your gawking at his concentrated expression.
A flash of the day he had barged in on you naked flashed in your mind because his eyes were so focused on not staring at you that you nearly whimpered when you saw his eyes flicker to the spot of dampness between your legs for no more than a second.
You had worn white cotton panties that day so they would not be seen through your dress. They were straining against your pussy in this position and all he had to do was reach out, and he’d find your clit poking against the fabric from how excited you were feeling.
He had had the perfect outline of your cunt, and it’s the same now as you bend over to get to the very bottom of the fridge, reaching for a cold drink that just happens to be his favorite. You know that he can see everything, and the worst is that you know he already has. Twice. The mere thought is so dirty that your heart starts pounding in your chest and sends heat through your already hot body, so you hurry to stretch to your full height again.
With a cocky grin that is mostly put on to hide your anxious excitement about what you have just done, you turn to face Joel and walk to stand in front of him and his car. His cologne fills your nostrils again, and the scent seems once again to have a direct line to your cunt because you have never felt more empty. In front of you, Joel’s jaw is clenched but other than that, he seems a lot more calm and composed than you.
That is until you jump onto the hood of the car and scoot back, letting your bare feet dangle out over the edge. You crack open the soda in your hand and take a sip that is a little longer than intended. The satisfying burn of the fizz grounds you in the warm climate, but it is even more heavenly as you tuck the skirt of your dress between your thighs so you can place the cold can there.
Joel shakes his head with a sigh but you know he is playing a game as much as you because he cannot help but crack a smile back at you, “You’re trouble, I knew it the second Sarah brought ya into my house.”
“Oh, whatever will I do?” You ask dramatically and lean back against the windshield.
“Go morally bankrupt?” He raises a brow. If only he knew what is going through your mind. You catch him looking at you in the fashion that you have craved when you sigh deeply and cause your chest to push out.
“Only that?” You take another sip and some of the contents spill down your chin in a thick, sticky trail due to the angle you’re sitting in. You reach up to wipe it away with your index finger and then dare to suck your finger clean with the intention of mimicking the way that you had licked it clean earlier when it had been coated in melted popsicle.
“Give it here,” he says. You lock eyes with him. However, your eyes widen slightly when he nods at the can and takes it from between your thighs. There’s electricity shooting through your nerves the second his fingers touch the fabric of your dress but they intensify to a dizzying degree when he takes a sip of the soda too.
Like a reflex, the sight of him drinking from the can that’s been nestled between your thighs makes your legs fall out to the sides. You’re worse than an obedient dog in your horniness, reacting the same way to the way he moves as it would to the sound of a bell ringing.
Your dress rides up slowly along your thighs, revealing your sweaty skin that feels sticky by now and Joel clears his throat after briefly looking down. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, and when you realize the effect it has on the poor man, you grab the hem and pull upwards, “It’s so hot outside today. Don’t think I’ll ever get used to the heat here in Texas.”
“C’mon, sweetheart,” he says and his face has got a pinker tint, pulse visible on the side of his neck. With his free hand, he grabs one of your knees and starts nudging your legs together again. He yanks your skirt down, “I know I’m always teasin’ ya but you can’t be doing this.”
“Jesus Christ, Joel,” you say with exasperation and move your legs out again, “It’s just very hot… and it’s not like you haven’t had a peek.”
“Hey now,” he leans forward to place the can of soda on the roof of the truck, “That ain’t a fair accusation.”
“I’m not accusing you of anything,” you reply, chewing on your bottom lip, “But you’re not denying it.”
“Don’t tryna make me look like the pervert here,” he scolds, taking a step towards you and causing your stomach to do somersaults, “I noticed the way you went real quiet when my hands were on you.”
“What do you mean?” You furrow your brows in confusion, “Your hands were never on m–”
“Did that bee sting really hurt that much?” He clarifies. Oh, you think whilst he smirks with triumph. Something has switched in the air surrounding you, the atmosphere has become more daring, “Yeah, I saw her; your pussy wet f’me.”
It’s true. If you think about it too much, you can still feel your heartbeat in the places where he touched you, and the pulse is rapid and overwhelming. You can’t imagine what it'll be like if he touches you underneath your dress, even if it’s simply on the outside of your panties. The thought has your underwear starting to dampen, the fabric starting to stick to you, and make you painfully aware of the wetness between your legs.
“Did ya touch yourself after?” His eyes have darkened slightly. His pupils are dilating with desire for your answer, and you nod hesitantly, overwhelmed by the need to tell him everything.
“During my shower that you told me to take,” you confess and hear him make a sound low in his throat at the mental image, “I couldn’t stop myself— I wanted you so badly. The thought of you inside me...”
This is a crossroad, you realize, you’ve said your deepest secret of depravity. On one hand, you can bolt out the door or you can make a move to show him what you really came down here for. The latter is risky but Joel is so goddamn decent that you know that if he doesn’t want this - which you doubt is the case at this point - he’ll gently reject you and never mention it again if it means that his daughter will continue having a best friend.
However, as your mind races with scenarios of what could or could not happen in this moment, Joel pulls you back into reality as his hand, cold from gripping the can, rests on your knee again but this time, it doesn’t try to make you decent like before. Instead, it slides up under your skirt in such a slow motion that you find yourself holding your breath.
“Is this what’ll quiet down that mind of yours?” He asks in a low voice, eyes flickering from your face to down between your legs and back again, “If I take a peek more to get it outta our system?”
“What are you doing?” You ask as if you do not know. It’s your turn to be scandalized by bluntness, and you find yourself gripping his arm but not hard enough to signal that you do not want him to continue. You hope that he realizes that this is not you rejecting his advances.
“I ain’t doing nothin’ that you haven’t already silently begged me to do. Perhaps sometimes - and God help me, I will probably regret it - you just needa follow your instincts when a pretty girl like you has been sendin’ me heart eyes all week,” he almost sounds annoyed with you, and to stop yourself from being scolded, your hand loosens its grip on him until you remove it altogether. He smiles, “Good girl.”
“You shouldn’t—“ you feel a rush of blood to your head, adrenaline kicking in as your thoughts circle around the repercussions that this can bring. In all honesty, you had only walked in here to have Joel’s eyes on you but now, you are getting more than you bargained for and it is making you so turned on that your mind is clear and foggy at the same time. Boldly, you sit up on the car’s hood so you can reach for the buckle of Joel’s belt, “We shouldn’t be doing this.”
“You’re damn right we shouldn’t be doin’ this,” he agrees immediately but doesn’t stop. His warm and rough palms skim further up your thighs until they settle by your hips, his thumbs teasing the elastic band of your panties. He starts to drag them down, the fabric nearly snapping in two when you barely register that you have to lift your ass to help him.
His fingers unintentionally caress your calves as he slides the underwear down to eventually pull them off your ankles and feet. The sensation makes your body wake up even more, a gush of wetness smearing your inner thighs and you know that you have to pull your dress up soon if you don’t want it stained.
In front of you, Joel reads your mind. He shoves the hem of your dress up as far as he can without a word with desperation in his trembling hands, and you move to let him bunch it up around your waist so he has a full view of what waits - and for long has waited - for him.
When your cunt is revealed to him, he groans like he is in pain at the sight of the slick shining on your soft youthful skin. You can see how hard he is in his jeans, cock straining against the zipper at the front of them.
He looks like he wants to touch but hesitates. The first sign of his inner conflict. You remember that he did say just a peek as if there’s an unspoken agreement that he is not to cross the line of touching what he shouldn’t want to have. It would definitely be a nuclear decision if he chooses to do it anyway. It makes you want it even more, and another gush spills from your glistening slit when you clench from excitement.
Joel swears under his breath, something that sounds like fuck it and it sets it in stone; he is going to ruin you for eternity right here on his car. He steps closer until your spread knees bump into his sides, and without saying anything you move to yank his jeans and briefs down, settling them around his hips with a soft gasp as you take in the sight of his fully hard cock. He is huge. So huge that your mouth starts salivating like you’ve already been fucked stupid and your walls try to clamp down on nothing. It’ll hurt. You want it to if it means that you won’t doubt if it ever happened tomorrow.
“Tell me you want this too,” he seeks your reassurance.
“So fucking badly, Mr. Miller— Joel,” you say without any hint of second-guessing in your voice. You scoot further forward on the car and lean back so he has better access, trying your best to be elegant in your messy state, “Please, want you in me.”
“Jeez, honey,” his breath shakes, “Already so eager. I haven’t even felt if she’s ready f’me.”
With one hand gripping your left thigh, he uses two fingers on his right hand to slide through your wet folds and you don’t think you have ever been this turned on for anyone; when he flips his palm upwards and shoves two fingers inside of you, you feel more arousal drip from your cunt and pool in his hand. The longing you have felt since you saw him for the first time finds somewhere to empty all its desire and desperation into, and you whine like you’re in a state of agony.
“Shhh…” he soothes and curls his digits inside of you until you think you might start crying, squelching cunt trying to pull him further into you as he fingers you lazily. Your gaze drops to how his cock twitches whilst standing in the air, “You’re grippin’ me so good, doll, can’t wait to fuck this pussy. Don’t cry like that. Be patient.”
“Please, I’m so—“ your palms are flat on the hood of the car, your mouth hangs open in ecstasy and you stare down at where his ring- and middle finger disappears repeatedly into you, “It’s yours, please.”
“I know it’s mine, don’t gotta say it, I know,” he coos at each of your whimpers, gets you worked up until you are just on the brink of coming, and then he moves quickly. He pulls his fingers out of you, smears his cock with what you’ve soaked his whole palm with, and leans over your gasping frame to nudge at your quivering hole.
When he finally enters you, the both of you gasp in unison. He struggles with it for a moment, rubbing the skin just below your belly button to make you relax because he is so much bigger than you had first anticipated, and such a tight fit that you think he might split you in two.
“Goddamn, you are tight,” he says through gritted teeth, “Feels fuckin’ amazin’.”
“Ah,” you feel like letting yourself turn into a drooling mess already, pulsating around him from the way your body struggles to take him, “Joel, I can’t.”
“Yes, you can, honey,” he encourages, showing no signs of pulling out of you to free you from the burn of his girth. He growls low in his throat as you struggle with it, and you know it’s because your walls are clenching around him as you involuntarily move, “Stay still, let her get used to it.”
“It hurts,” you whine, sliding slightly on the metal underneath your ass. He presses his hips forward even further and causes you to whimper but in doing so, he holds you firmly in place by using his strong frame.
“I know but ya just gotta relax,” he goes on. He places one hand flat on the hood of the car and then places the other right on your hip, thumb going inwards to find your clit. It pulses under his finger, trying to find out whether to find the pain delicious or not.
When his thumb starts going in circles on you, your thigh muscles start to twitch and flex from burning desire instead of uncomfortable pain. He presses down a little to stroke your sensitive nub with even more determination and smiles at his success when a moan slips from your mouth, “That’s it, honey. Just enjoy this until you’re creamin’ on me, and then I can fuck her real good.”
Your walls start to flutter a few seconds after the first new round of pleasurable sounds leave you, and the more his finger moves on you, the easier it gets to take him because the pain turns into nothing more than a dull ache in the background of ecstasy. He has you breathing faster and faster, and in return, he starts moving his thumb up and down to make his touches more direct.
God, your clit is hardening underneath his torment. He stares at what he is doing, an occasional grunt leaving him from how you involuntarily squeeze his length, and you know that he can sense it, suddenly smirking to himself as you near your climax. He admires the sight of you, eyes glued to the way the hood of your clit has drawn back, “Babydoll, look at that. Such a pretty pussy, clit peekin’ out and all. Does she wanna come on my cock?”
“Please, yes, oh please,” you nod repeatedly, mouth hanging open in an o-shape and breaths coming out in small puffs. Your climax is within reach, and Joel looks concentrated as he more than willingly hands it over to you whilst buried deep inside of you. The concentration on his face is probably from keeping himself from spilling inside of you too soon, but God, he looks gorgeous as he determinedly strokes your cunt.
“Yes, yes, yesyesyes— oh God, I’m… fuck, I’m coming!” You shake with pleasure as he causes your pussy to spasm, your hands barely able to find out what to do and making you grab at both the metal underneath you with one hand and his wrist with the other. Your eyes are squeezed shut but you do not doubt that he is staring at you in awe as you come so hard that reality fades.
“Good girl,” he rasps, voice unsteady and hand hitting the hood of the car as the feeling becomes overwhelming, “Oh sweetheart, you’re choking my dick so g—“
He swears quietly and then loudly, and suddenly, his cool demeanor crumbles because he is spilling his load inside of you with a pathetic and strained grunt. His hips stutter slightly and warmth spreads slowly inside of you, mixing with your own arousal.
You look down to where the two of you are connected, feeling fucked out despite not even having had the chance to feel him move inside of you. His come has started to spill from you already, dripping obscenely from your cunt.
“Fuck,” you hear Joel say above you. He slips out of you and leaves you gaping and mewling for a second, starting to take a step back. You catch him with your legs before he is too far away, and he reluctantly steps close to you again. He looks embarrassed but gives you a smile to hide it, “Felt too good, honey. This pussy’s makin’ me all sweet on you.”
“I’m that irresistible?” You grin in your post-orgasmic haze, not really giving a crap about the lack of a proper fuck from how much dopamine is coursing through your veins.
Joel takes hold of your thighs as they are wrapped around your body and lifts them off of himself, “You’re makin’ an old bastard like me weak in the knees, so maybe. Hah! Comin’ too soon like a goddamn teenager.”
“I liked it,” you admit without hesitation, still basking in the sweet afterglow, “Made me feel sexy and powerful.”
He scoffs but can’t fight the smile on his face, “Now now, don’t get cocky on me. Crawl back a little, spread ya legs f’me.”
You giggle and do as you are told, presenting yourself to him on the hood of his car. You plant your bare feet on the metal, lay back against the windshield, and smile.
“Now look at that,” he tuts as he admires his work; white ropes of come dripping down from your slit and onto the surface beneath you. He lays both hands flat on the car and leans forward, and before you know it, his mouth is covering your whole cunt and he eats from you like he’s paid to do it.
“Jesus,” you groan, throwing your head back and grabbing onto the roof of the car with one hand whilst the other finds Joel’s hair. You tug and he moans against you, sending vibrations through your whole lower body and beginning the first stirrings of another high. You don’t think that you can take it, squirming just like you had done moments earlier.
Joel makes a sound of disapproval. He scoops his arms under your thighs until he can lay his hands on top of them, holding you tightly against his mouth and causing you to cry towards the ceiling when he makes your second orgasm approach so quickly that nothing in your brain makes sense except what he is doing between your legs.
The hand on the roof of his car goes to his head too. You slide your fingers on both hands through his hair until they lay at the back of his neck, and then you yank once more at the curls there. His tongue works at your clit, swiping back and forth over it until you think that you might see God.
However, it doesn’t stay there. Instead, it is replaced by his nose so that he can eat his own spill straight from you by dipping his tongue hungrily inside of you.
“Joel— holy fuck, you’re incredible,” you close your eyes to concentrate on your pleasure. Who knew that the man could fuck with his tongue? He is warm and wet inside of you, slurping pornographically until you are clean of any remains of his come.
You are just about to finish a second time when he halts whatever he is doing. He pulls back only a few inches so you can still feel his uneven breaths against your cunt.
“No! Please,” your eyes fly open, you cry desperately, and throw your head forward dramatically. You want to thrash but he still has your legs locked in his arms, so you decide to pull out the big guns and hope for the best, “Please, Daddy! Pleasepleaseplea—“
“What the fuck did you just say t’me?” He looks up at you but you are too busy screwing your eyes shut in agony whilst whining for more. He growls and releases one of your legs, “I was already gonna make you a happy young lady but now, I’m gonna make you come so hard your little brain goes dumb. See how it feels. Impatient girl.”
His hand goes between your legs. He turns his palm upwards and then shoves two thick fingers inside of your pussy like earlier, curling them slightly and then pumping them so quickly that blood starts speeding through your system a second after and your heart rate goes so fast that you know that you are just about to come.
“Joel, oh my— fuck!” You whimper.
“Wrong word,” he replies.
You correct yourself immediately because there’s no way he is stopping again to chastise you once more, “Daddy, oh I— mhmm, I’m gonna come for you. Don’t stop, please, please Daddy, pleasepleaseplea—!”
He responds just how you had liked: He closes his mouth around your swollen clit and sucks hard, finally severing all connection to your brain and you come so hard that you actually squeal. Joel groans against you, feeling you squeeze the digits he has buried deep inside you. He draws back his fingers, pressing upwards the whole way.
Clear liquid squirts from you the second he pulls them out. The gushes that follow are so intense that the leg he isn’t holding anymore shakes so violently that the metal rattles under you, the car staining with your come. He repeats the move again and again, over and over, and watches the steady trickle down the hood and onto the concrete floor that turns a dark gray.
Euphoria courses through your being as you come in a way that you have never felt before. Your limbs tingle as warmth spreads out from beneath your belly button, your cunt pulses with eager pleasure, and you sob through the waves that crash over you without giving you time to recover from the last. The whole room feels brighter and its colors more vibrant.
“Shh, baby, let it happen, feels so good, don’t it? That’s it,” Joel coos at you the whole way through, guides you through it when you barely know how to use your words. He has straightened to his full height again but you don’t know when, and he has slowed his fingers down to tease out a few aftershocks. You whimper feebly at each one, and when Joel seems satisfied with what he has drawn out of you, he covers your whole mound with his palm to soothe the feeling of overstimulation that settles.
“Soundproof,” he mutters, once again reading your mind when you come to your senses again and start thinking about your noise levels with furrowed brows and eyes flitting from him to the garage door. Your heartbeat has started to slow again, and the relief of knowing no one has been able to hear you makes you slump against the windshield and breathe deeply.
The remnants of your orgasm have made you smile, your body slipping into a deep state of satisfaction when the anxieties have been dispelled. Joel moves his hand up your lower body until it settles between your breasts, still covered by your dress. He caresses your heaving chest, looking at you boyishly for the first time, “You good? Didn’t cause any brain damage, did I?”
“You think this truck has ever seen action like that before?” You joke breathlessly.
“Probably ain’t the first time I disappointed a gorgeous lady in its presence,” he says with an apologetic smile, “Sorry ‘bout that.”
“Disappointed? You’re insane,” you stretch your arms above your head to get some of the last bits of euphoria out of your body, trying to ignore the way he has just called you a gorgeous lady. He probably means nothing by it. As your stretch peaks, you moan gently, “I came two times. Hard. I’m not complaining.”
“Just saying that I woulda liked to do it… properly, I guess,” he talks as he stuffs himself back into his underwear and pants, most likely trying to feel the least uncomfortable about mentioning his overexcitement. Automatically, he steps back when you jump off the car to adjust your dress.
“This doesn’t have to be a one-time thing,” you try to act casual as you say it but there’s no way you are accepting the best sex of your life to be a thing you will never have again, reducing it to a movie merely playing behind your eyelids as a cruel reminder of what is unattainable.
“And when would we have time for that?” He asks, zipping up his jeans. He wipes his hands on them, “We can’t, honey.”
“We just did,” you mumble, picking up your underwear from the floor. You turn the panties in your hands, just about to bend down to put them on before deciding against it. Boldly, you stand in front of him and stuff your sticky underwear into his front pocket; closest to his crotch. There are extra pairs in your bag in Sarah’s room. He can have these.
He looks down briefly and then finds your eyes. His jaw clenches as he weighs his words, “When?”
“Aren’t you driving me to the airport on Sunday?” You smile and kiss his cheek, and then you leave him, your soda in hand and a mess on the floor.
.
.
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Peace Offerings Pt. 8
Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader
Series Summary: Joel makes a bad impression on the reader when he cuts in front of her at the radio station in the QZ. Abe, a father figure to her and an informant of Joel’s, informs her that the two have something in common: A brother in Wyoming. Joel reluctantly follows Abe’s wishes when he asks him to take the reader along to help find her brother too. As the journey goes on, she finds that despite his best efforts to make her think so, Joel isn’t a complete asshole, and maybe even a little… attractive?
Series Warnings: Slow burn, Age gap (reader is 34, Joel is 56), 18+ Minors DNI, Sexual Themes, Violence, Injuries (depictions of blood, bruising, broken bones), Cursing, Grumpy!Joel, Minimal depictions of reader's appearance (hair color/length.)
Chapter Warnings: Yelling, Dead animals/eating meat (rabbit/dear), Vomiting.
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Part Eight
Our boots crunched through the snow as we made our way through the thick woods. My cheeks stung from the bitter cold, my hands were still numb despite being buried into my pockets, and my stomach was practically eating itself. I thought about asking Joel to stop so I could eat something from our stash, but I kept ahead, dreading a conversation with him. I didn’t trust myself to not mention last night. Our kiss was implanted into my brain. No matter how badly I wanted to forget it, to purge the embarrassment that I’d felt afterwards out of my mind, I couldn’t. The desperation of his hands clenching my shirt, the way his beard stung as it rubbed against my face, the way he tasted. It was all painfully unforgettable, and I didn’t dare mention it. Afterall, it was a mistake.
About 20 quiet minutes down the path, we came across a lone cabin. I gawked at the smoke coming from the chimney, and the rabbits and deer hung up outside. Joel put a hand up for me to stop walking. “It’s occupied. Might have to keep moving.” He muttered. “But they have food… and warmth!” I argued a little too loudly, letting my immediate need for both of those things spill out of me. Joel glared as if saying “Shut the fuck up.” By the time we turned back to the cabin, an older woman was standing on the porch looking our way. Joel handed me his gun and walked towards her slowly with his hands raised above his head. “Ma’am, we’re not looking for trouble, just passing through.” Joel called out. She stared for a moment longer, her eyes meeting Joel’s, then mine. “You guys hungry?” She called out. We looked at each other. Joel shook his head, no. But I walked forward, my stomach making ungodly noises at the mention of food. “Starving.” I called out. Joel shot me a look. “I think she’s alone, Joel.” I whispered. “Or she could have someone waiting in the house to slaughter us.” he seethed back. “We’ll find out.” I said as I walked past him, hands raised. My name left Joel’s lips in an exasperated sigh, “Goddammnit.”
“Leave your guns at the door, my husband will be back soon.” She said bluntly as we timidly entered the house. Joel shot me another look as if saying “I told you so.” I ignored him and surveyed the area. There was wooden furniture arranged around a fireplace, and the walls were decorated with fur and animal bones. A fire warmed and incensed the small cabin. “Soup okay?” She asked as she moved to the small kitchen on the opposite wall of the same room. Joel and I nodded, watching closely as she ladled the already warmed soup into wooden bowls. She slowly made her way over to us, her age dwindling her speed. One of the reasons I wasn’t afraid of her. She handed me a bowl first. I whispered, “Thank you.” and immediately tipped the contents into my mouth. “Slow down.” Joel grunted as he accepted his own bowl. I ignored him and gulped down the so-called soup. It was broth with either rabbit or deer meat. Either way, I was ecstatic to have food in my stomach.
“There’s a bed in the loft,” the woman spoke over the rhythmic creak of her rocking chair, then nodded towards me, “your girl looks tired.” Joel’s eyes reluctantly shifted towards me but I did my best to avoid eye-contact. A place to rest my aching self sounded like heaven. I began to stand up, but Joel grabbed my wrist before saying, “She’s not- She’s fine.” I pulled away and shot him an annoyed look. I knew he didn’t want to split up, but the last thing I wanted to do was sit next to him on a tiny wooden bench. It was hard enough to fight the urge to lean against him. And in addition to that, my side was throbbing and it was a chore to keep my back straight while sitting on the hard surface. “I would love to lay down ma’am. Thank you.” I said politely before climbing up the stairs to the loft.
In the corner of the room was a small mattress with what looked like handmade quilts. I
sighed and gently laid down onto the plush material. I was just starting to give in to the heaviness of my eyelids when I heard the door open and the unzipping of a jacket. There was a moment of eerie quiet before a man’s voice blurted “Who the hell are you?” Joel’s voice calmly answered, “Just someone passing through. Take the gun out, two fingers only and put it out of reach.” The gun clattered onto a table. “Why didn’t you shoot him?” the man asked. I assumed he was addressing the woman. “The gun was all the way over there.” Another moment of silence passed and then she spoke again, “He didn’t hurt me by the way.” The man groaned, “Yeah I see that… You made him soup?” His voice hurled towards annoyance. “Yeah…I did. It’s cold out.” the woman answered in a tone that made it seem like it was the obvious thing to do. I almost giggled at the casualness of the couple. Any other people would have Joel and I at gunpoint or even dead by now, but here they were worrying about soup.
I moved silently to peek down at them between the rungs of the railing. The man had plopped into a chair, seemingly unbothered by Joel holding him at gunpoint. He was still layered in multiple sweaters, and as he took off his hat, short, white hair was revealed. “I’m looking for my brother.” Joel said, trying to get the interaction on track. “Well I ain’t seen ‘im.” The man responded. “I haven’t told you what he looks like.” Joel replied, a hint of sass in his tone. “He look anything like you?” The man asked. “A bit.” I tried to imagine what the man would look like, whether he was younger or older, all questions I could never ask. “Then I ain’t seen him.” The man grunted. The woman spoke again, “He’s got a woman with him.” My stomach dropped and I moved to hide behind an animal skin that had been draped over the bannister. “Uh..No.” Joel said panickedly. “He does! Just saw her.” The man exclaimed. “Dammit.” Joel cursed under his breath as I stood up, keeping my hands visible to them to show I wasn’t a threat. “Who’s this beauty?” The man asked, his eyes following my form as I descended the stairs. I clenched my jaw nervously and went to stand next to Joel. “Nevermind her.” He said while moving his body in front of mine. I stepped out from behind him, annoyed with the fact that he’d pushed me away but still insisted on bossing me around. I felt the woman’s eyes on me. A soft smile was spread across her round face. I responded with a smile of my own, and then focused back onto the men’s tense conversation.
Joel finally got the man to plant a finger to show where we were on the map. He sighed frustratedly and paced, “Well you found a great place to hide I guess.” The man chuckled, “Look, I came out here before you were born, sonny.” The woman turned to Joel and I and said, “I didn’t want to.” I furrowed my eyebrows in empathy, but my attention was brought back to the man as he continued to speak. “And I didn’t mean to upset you about your brother, but if you’ve come this far then you know what’s out there. You seen Cody?” He asked. I sat up and joined into the conversation, “Yeah we’ve been close enough. It’s crawling with infected.” He nodded, “Laramie, Wind River Reservation… Anywhere people used to be, you can’t go there no more.” Joel finally sat down and rang his hands nervously, “So you haven’t heard the name Tommy?” The inflection of his voice had changed slightly. I sounded more anxious than usual. “Or Matthew?” I asked hopefully. “There’s two men you’re looking for?” The man asked exasperatedly. “Our brothers are supposed to have been in the same state. They left together with a group of fireflies.” I explained. “Like the bugs?” The woman questioned, her face twisted in confusion. “Not the bugs, the people.” I said again, trying to stay patient. “There are firefly people?” She asked again. The couple burst out laughing and I bit my lip, desperately trying not to join in. Joel was not having it, “You got any advice on the best way west?” The man leaned forward, “Yeah. Go East.” He pointed to a depiction of a river on the map, “Never go past the river here. Ever.” I looked up from the map, “What’s past the river?” I asked reluctantly. “Death. We’ve never seen who’s out there, but we see the bodies they leave behind. Some infected, some not. If your brothers are west of the river, they’re gone.”
The woman’s words felt like a punch to the gut. The thought that I’d done all of this- gone through all of this only to find that my brother was dead made bile rise up into my throat. My pulse thumped in my ears as I stood up. “Need some fresh air.” I breathed as I stumbled towards the door, almost tripping over the rug made out of bear fur. I squinted from the blinding sun as I opened the door and walked back out into the freezing weather. I leaned against the side of the house as I sucked in the cold air, trying to keep myself in reality. I needed to hold onto the hope that Matthew would still be alive. Those people were clueless. They had no idea what was going on in the world besides the cordyceps. There’s no way I was letting them convince me my brother was dead. The “what ifs” were still enough to make me lean over the railing and spew the soup all over the white snow.
The door opened behind me and I heard Joel’s heavy boots step onto the landing. My name fell softly from his lips, and I felt his hand on my back. I leaned up off of the railing and shoved away from him. “Don’t touch me, Joel.” I sobbed. His hand retracted from me and he stepped back. His face was heavy with a mixture of grief, anxiety, anger and everything in between. “I’ve been thinking about this.” I said shakily as I wiped my face and turned to him. He looked at me through the side of his eyes, refusing to face me. “I’ve been thinking… what if they’re not there. What if this dream I’ve been having is real-“ He cut me off and growled, “No. DON’T FUCKING SAY THAT.” The volume of his voice caused me to shriek and recoil back. My body shrunk into the corner of the landing, and I stared at him wide-eyed. He dug his hands into his hair and pulled his head downwards onto the railing opposite to me. “We can’t believe that.” He whispered, his voice cracking under the immense weight of the situation.
He was losing it. No longer able to keep up the cold, emotionless, strong man act. The thought of losing his brother broke something in him. He stood at the railing and heaved. He wasn’t crying, he was panicking. Fighting the same thoughts I had been for the past few weeks.
I decided that this time, I would be the one to put my hand on his back. I pushed up off of the side of the house and slowly moved towards him. I raised a shaky hand to the brown leather of his coat, and pressed it in between his broad shoulders. His head raised up from between his hands and he caught sight of me in the corner of his eye. “I’m sorry.” He breathed. I shook my head, “Don’t be.” He slowly straightened from his crouched position and stood facing me. “Joel.” I said while maintaining eye contact, “I’m going to hug you now. Not because I want to, but because I need to. And you’re going to let me, because no matter how strong or manly you are, I know damn well you need it too.” He stared down at me, neither accepting or rejecting my declaration. I slowly raised my arms to his torso and my hands connected with the warmth of him. As I brought my body closer and closer, I waited for him to push me away or yell at me, but he didn’t. He stood still as our bodies connected. I pressed my head against his chest while wrapping my arms tightly around him. He didn’t hug me back. I didn’t expect him to. But the absence of his refusal was a sign that I was right- he did need it. Not wanting to push my luck, I began to pull away. It was only then that he wrapped his arms around my shoulders, pulled our bodies back together, and rested his chin against my head. I closed my eyes and breathed in a full breath for the first time in years. My heavy heart felt lighter.
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As always, thank you for reading!! <3
Masterlist
Tagging ppl I think would enjoy!!:
@demonsasss @ayamenimthiriel @ashleyfilm
#joel miller x reader#joel tlou#pedro pascal#pedro pascal fandom#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal x female reader#tlou#joel the last of us#the last of us fanfiction#tlou fanfiction#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller#the mandolarian#pedrohub#jose pedro balmaceda pascal#if bad why hot?#slow burn#forced proximity trope#forced proximity#enemies to lovers#i can fix him#work in progress#fixer upper
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but I would die for you in secret
summary: The relationship you have with Joel Miller is… complicated, and you’re not entirely sure what to even call it. There’s the fact no one can know, so his kid doesn’t find out, and you’re pretty sure he’s ashamed of your age difference—he’s not your boyfriend, but you only fuck each other; this thing started months ago, and Joel does not like it when men give you attention, because he wants you all to himself. But again, he’s not your sexy, older boyfriend.
pairing: Joel Miller/f!reader
rating: E (18+!! No y/n, porn with some plot, explicit smut, Possessive Joel Miller, Joel being a lil dominant, age gap (unspecified, reader is an adult), secret relationship, sneaking around, accidental voyeurism, edging, orgasm denial, mutual masturbation, dirty talk (so much), oral sex (f receiving), unprotected p in v (wrap it up!), rough sex, explicit consent, creampie, spanking, spit as lube, love confession, Good Parent Joel Miller, Ellie giving Joel so much shit, TLOU AU where Joel doesn’t lie to Ellie and they’re good when they get back to Jackson)
word count: 7.1k+
a/n: Hey! I needed a break from my long fic that I’ve been writing nonstop for five months, and I was really missing Joel and Ellie, so here we are. I hope you enjoy! Thank you to @juletheghoul for betaing!
Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs feed me. I’d love to know what you thought!
Masterlist - One Shot
The relationship you have with Joel Miller is… complicated.
To start with, there’s the age difference. It doesn’t bother you at all, and why should it? You’re both consenting adults who know what they want, but he’s got this idea in his head that he shouldn’t be chasing someone so much younger than him and that you should be with somebody your own age—he mentions this almost every single time you’re alone together, and you've learned a simple flash of your tits or a sudden kiss will make those thoughts disappear.
Then there's the fact he isn't your boyfriend, yet you only fuck each other. His days are spent working whatever job he’s assigned here in Jackson and he’s at your place most nights after his daughter goes to bed—however, that’s a secret; No one can know about you two, even though Joel’s a tiny bit possessive and doesn't take kindly to other men giving you attention; which you're not one to judge because you can't stand when women flirt with him, especially Sandra, his next-door neighbor who won't leave him the fuck alone after the many times he’s told her he’s not interested.
So, again, he's not your boyfriend, but neither of you wants to fuck anyone else; whatever this thing is between you has been going on for over eight months, and he doesn’t want people to know you’re together—yet, any time he catches a man being too friendly with you, there's a 100% chance a grumpier than usual Joel will show up at your house that night, and at some point, while he’s fucking your brains out, he'll let a 'Mine' slip out.
Clearly, you have some kind of relationship with him, and it borders somewhere between fuck buddies and him being your boyfriend; where it gets confusing is it's not all sex with him. If his kid is staying over at a friend's, he'll show up at yours earlier than normal, and usually, with a movie he hadn't seen since the world ended or a record he thought you'd enjoy that you both listen to all the way through for him to tell you facts and anecdotes that he could possibly be the only person on the entire planet who knows.
If you need anything fixed around your house, he'll do it, and sometimes you don't even have to ask. You'll mention something, and the next thing you know, he's at your front door with a toolbox—sometimes, he uses doing repairs as a ruse so people will see him arriving at your place with his tools when, in actuality, he’s there to spend the day with you.
You’re also probably the only person, unrelated to him, he has actual conversations with; there’s hardly any grumbling or muttering.
There is a reason he won't acknowledge you’re dating, and it's his sixteen-year-old daughter whom he doesn't want to know he has a love life—it's to where Joel's basically taken the role of the rebellious teenager, sneaking out of his own home in the middle of the night to ensure she's unaware he left.
It's an accumulation of factors why she can't know. The big two, you think, are your age, and you know for sure he doesn't want Ellie to think she'll be any less important to him or that he's abandoning her if he's seeing someone—he worries she won’t take it well, and from what you know she's been through, you can understand why he’s being so protective.
Do you wish you could openly be in a relationship with Joel? Sure, it'd make you happy to shove it in Sandra, his stupid neighbor's face that he's taken.
That isn't a possibility, though, and honestly, what the two of you have is good, so you're not going to make a fuss about labels.
It's been a few nights since Joel has snuck over to your place, and you know why he hasn't stopped by—Ellie—she's sick with a cold, and to put things mildly, her father is freaking the fuck out that it could turn into something worse, and he won't let her out of his sight.
Now, if a person didn't want their child to know they were dating anyone, they’d keep them separated, right? Well, you live across the street from them—that's how you met Joel; he saw someone had moved into the tiny one-bedroom, one-bath home across from his and came over to introduce himself—and since you live across the way from him, and Ellie, the two of you have this, 'Just being a good neighbor,’ act, where any interactions you have in public, are under the guise that you’re just friendly neighbors. So, Ellie has spoken to you many times and has even invited you to hang out and eat meals with them at their house or in the mess hall, where Joel always does his damndest to act indifferent.
Joel left a simple note three days ago stating Ellie was feeling under the weather on your front door. The next day, you stopped by, as the good neighbor you are, to drop off some chicken soup you convinced the kitchen at the mess hall to make. Joel had let you in with a ‘Thanks’ and took the large bowl from you to the kitchen, and you followed the sounds of sniffles to the living room, where you found the teenager wrapped in a blanket on the couch, her stuffed-up voice exclaiming when she saw you in relief you were there so she’d have someone other than her dad to look at or talk to; obviously, she was tired of him, and with how he was hovering, and fussing over her like a mother hen, you would’ve been tired of him, too.
The man had bags under his worried eyes and looked like he hadn’t slept since she’d gotten sick. After he served her some soup and saw she was eating it, Ellie and you convinced him to take a nap while you hung out with his kid—the kid you’ve had a suspicion for a while knows there’s something up between you and her father, simply because every time the two of you are alone, she grills you about your love life.
The thing is, she always fishes for information you won’t give her, but she never seems bothered by the prospect of Joel dating; frankly, she’s supportive and wants him to be happy. However, that wasn’t something you could tell him because he’d probably end things with you immediately, so you’d have to wait for them to eventually have a heart-to-heart for him to find out—which, you’re not holding your breath with how bad they both are at talking to each other about their feelings.
And now it’s been over three days since you last got laid, and after having great sex regularly, the horniness is hitting you hard tonight, and you need to come.
It might be the dead of winter, but you’ve pushed the blankets to the end of your queen-sized bed, the old sheets not as soft as you imagined they’d once been when they were new, your bare, heated skin pressing into them. You’re lying in the middle of the mattress, your head cushioned by a pillow that’d lost its firmness long ago, your naked legs spread while your fingers rub at your swollen clit just right, the others pinching at your pebbled nipple to have the pleasure welling up inside you. You’ve been biting your bottom lip so much it’s sore, your breaths panting from your lungs, the wood stove in the living room keeping your house warm, and that, combined with your arousal, has a thin layer of sweat coating your body.
Sure, you can get yourself off, but the orgasm will be nowhere near as good as what Joel coaxes from you; it’ll take the edge off, at least, so you’ll feel a little better.
For the last hour, you’ve been building yourself up, almost hitting your peak, and stopping, edging yourself over and over again to try to make yourself come as hard as you can by your own hand to assuage some of your need—the sheets are wet under your ass where you’ve dripped onto them.
Your heart is pounding in your chest, thinking about that one night Joel saw some guy about your age at the bar laying it on thick to get you to leave with him, and how after you turned him down and left, a familiar presence followed you along the dark streets. You had to keep quiet when those big, gun-calloused hands you knew all too well pulled you into the stable that had nobody in it except the horses—Joel fucked you from behind against a wall, having to brace yourself with your arms on it. You remembered his palm over your mouth to muffle your sounds and him blanketing himself over your back to have his lips at your ear while he pounded into you hard and fast, quietly grunting about how you were his and that no one could make you feel as good as he did. There was no forgetting how his cock stretched open your cunt, or how before he sheathed himself inside you, you heard him spit on his fingers to slick himself up; the way he made you come around him while he circled your clit with those same digits. The memory of how he’d worked himself up so much he’d forgotten to pull out and spilled deep in your pussy, has you so close to coming by your hand you moan loudly, “Joel.”
“Stop,” the familiar gruff voice makes your eyes snap open as you gasp, immediately sitting up on your elbows.
There at the foot of the bed is the man on your mind—he must’ve taken off his winter jacket in the living room—his green flannel shirt is gaping from most of the buttons being undone, revealing his chest, his grey waves of hair looking to be slightly damp from melted snowflakes. What steals your attention is the fact his jeans are unbuttoned and open, and he’s slowly stroking his hard dick; from how the tip is angry red, leaking precum, and his shaft shines, he’s been watching and jerking off for some time.
“Joel,” his name comes out as a whisper, and your eyes flick up to his, finding them dark and staring hungrily between your legs at your glistening cunt.
You’re so happy to see him you’re not even mad he ruined your orgasm, knowing he’ll make it up to you.
“How many times have you made yourself come while I’ve been busy?” he asks, finally meeting your gaze, his expression grumpy.
“No-none,” you stammer.
His eyebrow lifts. “You lyin’ to me, sweetheart?”
“No.” You shook your head. “Are you mad at me…?”
His face pinches in confusion. “What? No. I’m not mad at you, baby. I’m mad at myself for leavin’ you hangin’.” He undoes the last two buttons on his shirt and shrugs it off for it to fall to the floor, pushing down his pants to step out of them, now standing before you completely naked.
His body is a tapestry of littered scars that tell of his fight to survive this long, some from injuries you’re sure should’ve killed him. Yet, somehow, if by spite or the grace of God, he managed to stay alive—your fingers have traced many of them, mapping the silvery and pink lines in the quiet of the night with only the glow of a bedside lamp. With what people have to do in order to keep living these days, they rarely like to share the stories behind their close calls to death. Still, there’s a jagged scar low on the right side of his stomach lesser men would have died from, you noticed the first time he took his shirt off, and you always wanted to know the story of. Surprisingly, he told you how he got it a few months into this not-not relationship when you asked.
Excitement pools in your belly, your pussy throbbing needily, watching as he climbs onto the bed to kneel in front of you, between your legs, down by your ankles.
“Touch yourself,” he orders and takes himself in hand again, languidly pumping his cock. “I wanna watch you make yourself come; then I’m gonna show you how I’m better than everyone, includin’ you, at gettin’ you off.”
Your cunt clenches because he is better, and the promise has you doing as he said, sliding your hand down to the apex of your thighs to rub your clit the way you like while you watch him fist his shaft. This isn’t the first time he’s watched you touch yourself, and you’re sure if it was anyone else, you’d feel embarrassed, but with how the desire is clear as he stares at what you’re doing, it spurs you on.
Having been so close to coming when he told you to stop, and now, it’s turning you on so much that he’s jacking off to what you’re doing, all of it is building you back up quickly, the familiar heat growing at the base of your spine.
“Just like that, baby,” he rasps and wets his bottom lip. “Keep rubbin’ that pretty pussy—did you miss me?”
“Yes.”
He hums in the back of his throat. “Missed how good I make you feel—how I stretch open that perfect cunt with my cock? Do I fuck you so good, you were thinkin’ about me to make yourself come?”
The strokes of his hand sound wetter, your arousal drooling onto the bedding while the muscles in your belly begin to tighten.
“Yes,” you gasp.
“That’s right, you were. So fuckin’ pretty spread out like this for me—I wanna taste you, shove my face in your pussy, and drown in it; just look at how you’re drippin’ for me.”
“Joel,” you moan. You’re so close it’s not going to take much more.
“God, I fuckin’ missed that sound; I missed hearin’ your voice and how good you smell, how soft your skin is, and the few hours I get to sleep next to you—come for me, baby. Come all over your fingers, and I’ll give you my dick—I’ll make those gorgeous eyes roll back in your head and give it to you so good, I ruin you for anyone else.”
He’s already ruined you for anyone else, and you doubt there’s another who’d fuck you as good as him.
It’s the thought that he’s yours and no one else can have him like this that sends you over the edge, your body seizing up as you come, pleasure erupting from your center as you moan his name.
He doesn’t give you a chance to recover, batting away your hand to dive in and bury his face in your wet heat. He shoves his tongue inside your soaked hole, groaning loudly as he laps at your come, your body trembling when he drags the flat of it up through your folds to suck your clit between his lips. Your fingers press into his hair, soft sounds leaving your throat at how good it feels.
The one orgasm isn’t enough—you need more, his mouth igniting arousal to burn hot in your belly, making you feel achingly empty. He’s licking up every bit of your need, coating your sex, moving to flick his tongue against your sensitive bundle of nerves. You’re feeling greedy; what he’s doing isn’t enough, and you want, no, need him inside you.
You pull at his hair as you tell him in a somewhat whiny tone, “Fuck me, Joel—stop making me wait.”
His chuckle vibrates into your sensitive skin before he rises to kneel with a groan. “Impatient.” He smacks your thigh. “Flip, ass up.” And it’s not a suggestion, his hands on your waist helping you to roll over, pulling your backside up into the air while your torso is against the sheets. Your knees are sinking into the bed and spread a little, putting yourself on display for him, the mattress jostling when he shuffles forward, feeling his body heat behind you. His palm lands on your asscheek hard, the sharp sting making you moan. “Now, ask me nicely to fuck you.”
You should’ve known he wouldn’t care for your lack of manners.
Your head is resting on your crossed arms in front of you.
“Joel, will you please fuck me?” you ask as sweetly as possible.
“Yes.”
The sound of him spitting on his fingers meets your ears, and you know he’s slicking himself up. One of his hands holds your hip, the other guiding his cock through the lips of your pussy to wet it even more, nudging your clit—it doesn’t seem like he’s in a mood to tease too much. Your eyes slip shut when he notches himself at your entrance and starts slowly feeding himself into you, your tight, velvety walls expanding to take the considerable girth of him, whining as he fills you. He slides all the way home, your cunt throbbing around him.
“Fuck, that’s good,” he groans. “Is this what your needy little pussy wanted?”
“Yes,” you moan.
He’s as deep as he can go and pulls out until just the tip remains, and slams back into you hard enough to knock the air from your lungs—oh, this is going to be one of those times where he fucks you to the point your legs are too shaky to walk on afterward. The pace he sets is deliciously brutal and has your eyes rolling back, all thoughts leaving your brain, unable to think with how he’s pressing into so many heavenly spots, his grip tight on your waist.
The sounds in the room are obscene—the springs beneath you are squeaking, and there’s the noisy slap of his hips colliding with your ass, Joel grunting with each dull smack of his skin to yours, while you gasp out moans.
He’s fucking you so good, your orgasm is already taking shape, its fiery tendrils tightening in your core with each stroke.
“You feel so fuckin’ good,” he says through gritted teeth. “You’re so fuckin’ wet—I could live in this perfect pussy.”
His hand slaps your ass hard enough the crack echoes amongst the four walls, the sweet pain making you clench around him and press back into his thrusts, crying out his name.
“Does it feel good, baby?” he asks. “Did you miss getting fucked like this? You love this—this pussy is mine, isn’t it? You’re mine.”
He’s not wrong; you are his, and all you can do is mewl in reply, waves of your arousal seeping down his shaft to catch on his balls.
His gun-calloused hands adjust on your hips to get a better grip, pulling you back each time his dick impales you, fucking you harder and faster, hearing him panting behind you—the wet sounds of him working himself in and out of your drenched cunt, are loud, and lewd.
You’re so close; you’re just needing—
Joel leans forward to get his hand under your body to the swollen pearl of your clit, circling it how he knows you like it.
“Come on, sweetheart,” he grits out. “Let me have it—soak my cock with your come. Let me feel you—I know you’re almost there.”
That’s it—the knot in your belly winds tighter and tighter until the tension snaps, and you fall over the edge with a silent cry, your pussy clamping down on him hard enough that it slows his rhythm almost to a stop. Joel groans loudly while euphoria explodes out from your center, feeling it spread to your fingers and toes. Your brain goes blissfully blank, and your legs tremble under you like a leaf in the wind.
A gasp leaves you when he suddenly pulls out and flips you onto your back, taking his place between your spread thighs. He puts your legs high on his ribs, holding his weight on one arm while his other hand sheaths himself back inside you.
It’s not surprising that you’ve found yourself under his hulking frame with his hips snapping in and out of you—when you open your eyes, his are closed, his expression looking pained, and it’s his broad shoulders and head that take up your vision. This is how Joel wanted to fuck you from the start, but he’s a gentleman and did your preferred position first.
Your fingernails end up digging into the skin of his shoulder blades for something to hold on to, and he kisses over your chest to duck his head, wrapping his lips around a stiff nipple and sucking on it, the shock of pleasure causing a moan to slip from your throat. His breaths are heavy, and you know he won’t last much longer.
Your voice is hoarse when you speak, telling him what you know he needs to hear, “I missed you, Joel.” He whines. “I want you to come for me.”
His mouth leaves your breast to crash against yours, and you’d been wondering how long he’d go without kissing you—something about kissing while he fucks makes him come faster; maybe it’s the intimacy?
He’s told you the last woman he was with back in Boston wouldn’t kiss him because sex between them was just scratching an itch, and she wasn’t looking for anyone to replace her dead husband.
All you know is Joel loves kissing and touching—he’s admitted that he sleeps best with you snuggled against his back as the big spoon, which, you’ll never tell him, you think is adorable with how he scares people enough, they move out of his way when he walks down the street.
His kisses are fervent, and you give just as good as you get, welcoming his tongue when it presses between your lips, his pace speeding up. You love having him inside you, the way he fits all nice and snug to fill you completely. This is what you’ve been needing, and it’s perfect.
When his rhythm gets uneven, you expect him to pull out at any second to spill his release on your belly. What he does next, you’re not expecting.
Joel shoves his face into the crook of your neck, his facial hair scratching your skin, feeling his hot breaths.
He says something that’s too muffled to make out, so you pull on his hair to make him lift his head, finding his eyes dark and glazed over, looking totally and completely wrecked. His pace slows to him rocking in and out of you.
“What did you say?” you ask.
“Can I—” he pants. “Fuck, can I come inside you?”
The question has your tight walls constricting around him.
“Fuck,” Joel hisses, his eyes closing. “Please, can I?” he asks again.
The answer that immediately pops into your brain is ‘yes,’ but thinking about how the only times this man has finished inside you in the past were all accidents, you’re worrying he’s just pussy drunk and not thinking straight; that if you fell pregnant, something you didn’t mind, he’ll regret it.
“Are you sure?” you ask.
He looks at you and nods. “Yes, I know—” The consequences, he leaves unsaid. “—please.”
“Then yes, come for me, Joel—fill me up.”
He raggedly moans, his face falling into your neck again. His thrusts speed up and become frantic as he pounds into you, your heels digging into his ass, feeling the muscles flex. He works himself up until he presses into you one last time as deep as possible and comes with a guttural groan—his dick jerks inside you, and the hot spurts of his spend gush into your depths, filling you up. Electricity zips down your spine as you moan, your tight walls throbbing around him while he grinds his hips, fucking his come deeper.
The weight of his body is welcome when he eventually slumps onto you, and instinctively, your fingers slide into his hair, scratching your nails lovingly against his scalp, the man practically purring on top of you.
For the first time in three days, you feel happy and finally sated, loving how he’s stuffed you full of his cock, and come. There’s no talking as your heartbeats slow together and your breathing evens out, basking in each other’s presence. Your eyes are closed, and you’re choosing to ignore your shaky limbs.
It’s hard to imagine a life without Joel, which is odd since up until this point, most of it had been spent without him, or anyone really. What you actually mean is you don’t want to imagine a life without Joel and Ellie—you think she’s a great kid, and you have a soft spot for her; plus, she and her dad are a package deal. Then there’s Joel, who you’re absolutely and completely in love with, and it bothers you that you don’t know what this relationship between you is or if he even feels the same as you.
Minutes pass, the old, wooden bones of your house creaking as the winter wind gusts outside.
“Joel?” you break the silence.
“Mhmm?” he hums, nuzzling into your throat.
“What are we?”
“Huh?”
“What are we? Like, what is this thing that we’re doing?”
His head lifts, and he pulls out, rolling off you to lie beside you on his back, pressing his hands to his face.
“Somethin’ I shouldn’t be doin’ in the first place,” he finally answers.
You turn on your side toward him, propping your head up on your arm. “Take my age out of the equation.”
His palms lift, and he looks at you confused. “What do you mean?”
“For some fucking reason, you are stuck on my age—take it out of the equation; if that wasn’t a factor, would you openly date me?”
“Well, there’s Ellie—”
“—let’s pretend she doesn’t give a fuck about your love life,” you cut him off, “and actually wants you to be happy, and my age doesn’t matter—would you openly date me?”
“Yes.”
“So, you have feelings for me?”
“Of course.”
“Do you love me…?”
“Yes,” he whispers, covering his face again.
One word has your heart picking up in speed.
“I love you, too.”
His head whips in your direction with an expression of bewilderment.
“What?” he asks.
“I’m in love with you—have been for a while, and I’m fine with doing what we’ve been doing if that’s the only way I can be with you, but I kinda, sorta, would like it if you thought of us as a couple, and weren’t ashamed of me…”
A secret relationship? You’re fine with that. But Joel being ashamed of you? It fucking hurts.
“I’m not ashamed of you,” he says too quickly.
“Joel, if Ellie were okay with you having a love life, you wouldn’t openly date me because of how old I am—I’d just continue being your dirty little secret that one other person knows about.”
His eyes dart away, and the sigh he lets out is long and weary.
“I’m not ashamed of you,” he says. “I’m ashamed of myself for fallin’ for you and not bein’ able to give you the future you deserve. I just felt like I was stringin’ you along when you could be with someone who can offer you more, but I’m so fuckin’ selfish.” He looks at you. “I want you, and I don’t want anyone else to have you—I can’t let you go, even though I should cut you free.”
Your fingers brush back the sweat-soaked hair on his forehead. “I don't want anyone else, Joel—I want you, and you’re not stringing me along. I’m happy with you and any future I can have with you and Ellie.”
He’s frowning. “If only it were that simple,” he sighs.
This is a conversation you thought might make him end things with you, but maybe giving him a slight nudge will be okay—at least, you hope it will.
“It is that simple,” you tell him. “I’m gonna tell you something that if you can work up the nerve to talk to her about, she'll confirm it.”
His eyebrows furrow. “What?”
“Ellie doesn’t care if you date. She’s told me she wishes you weren’t such an asshole ‘cause then the only negative thing about you is how ugly you are, and people love ugly things all the time, and if someone loves you, then you won’t die alone, plus it’d hopefully make you happy, and she really wants you to be happy—that’s pretty much what she said word-for-word.”
His eyes close, and the sigh that leaves him is that of a father who’s real tired of their child’s shit, and you smile.
“That’s Ellie,” he says, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I’m not even sure how I should be feelin’ right now.”
“I hoped you’d be relieved at least, possibly even happy.”
He looks at you. “Yeah, I’m relieved and happy but also a little ticked at her embarrassin’ me like that.”
Scooting closer to him, you lay half on top of him with your arms folded on his chest, resting your chin on them to stare at his pretty face.
“Don’t be embarrassed. It was said out of love—she loves you.”
He sighs again, wrapping his arms around your bare back.
“I guess she does, even if she’s mean. Jesus, I can’t believe I just needed to talk to her sooner.”
“That’s usually how things work—it’s called communication, and you should talk to her.”
His eyes narrowed, and he smacked your ass, making you giggle. “There’s no need for the sass, sweetheart, and I was plannin’ on bitin’ the bullet and tellin’ her about us in the next couple of days.”
Your eyes widened. “You were? What?”
“Yeah, uh, I had a hard time with Ellie bein’ sick, and when you came over, I didn’t feel like I was goin’ insane with worry. Havin’ you there made it better, and I missed you.” His lips dip in a frown.
“I missed you, too—you were really gonna tell her?”
“I was.” He nods. “With how happy she was to see you, I thought maybe she’d be okay with it.” He shrugs.
You smile. “I think you’re right,” you reply, giving him a quick kiss. Meeting his gaze, you ask, “Is she feeling better?”
“Yeah, and thank Christ, she is.” He looks visibly relieved. “I think it was that soup you brought over—thank you for that and for givin’ me a chance to sleep.” He pecks you on the lips.
“It was no problem. I would’ve been there the entire time had it not been suspicious.”
He smiles. “I know.”
“Good. Sooo, I’m wondering, what are we now?”
“A couple,” he answers. “I’ve thought that for a while, but I’m too fuckin’ old to be callin’ myself your boyfriend.”
“I quite like having a sexy, older boyfriend.”
You squeak in surprise when he rolls you onto your back, your legs automatically opening for him to nestle his hips between. He’s holding himself up with his arms beside your head while yours loop around his neck, his lips pressing to the side of your throat, kissing the taut skin.
“You like havin’ a sexy, older boyfriend, huh?” His question is muffled, and you swallow hard when he sucks on your pulse point.
“I do,” you reply.
“I like havin’ you.” He’s kissing and nibbling along your jaw.
“‘Cause no one else can?”
He nips your chin, then hovers his head over yours to look you in the eyes.
His expression is serious. “Yes,” he says, “and I love you—if Ellie really doesn’t give a shit about me datin’, then every fuckin’ person in town is gonna know you’re mine.”
And something about that declaration thrills you.
“I’d like that.”
He gives you a small smile and kisses you for a moment before a thought comes to him, and he pulls back to meet your gaze.
“Maybe that neighbor, the annoyin’ one who doesn’t seem to know the meanin’ of no, will finally get it through her head, I’m not fuckin’ interested.”
You glare off into the distance. “Fucking Sandra,” you seethe.
The first time he met you, Joel knew he was fucked.
All he wanted to do was be polite and introduce himself to his new neighbor, then you opened the door, and his brain stopped working because you were so beautiful. It didn’t help when you blatantly checked him out, clearly undressing him with your eyes before looking entirely too pleased with what you were seeing.
If he’d been a stronger, honorable man, he wouldn’t have accepted your offer to come inside for a drink; he wouldn’t have kissed you back or laid you down on the couch to eat your pussy; he wouldn’t have let you choke on his dick or crawl into his lap and ride him; he wouldn’t have gotten so lost in being buried in your wet, warm, perfect cunt and your lips on his that he forgot to pull out when he came; he wouldn’t have gotten addicted and returned to you almost every night after.
If he’d been a stronger, honorable man, he would’ve ended things before it went too far and definitely before he fell in love with you.
From the beginning, he knew he was way too old for you, and he didn’t understand why you wanted him or kept letting him into your house. He had nothing to offer you, yet even when the opportunities arose for you to go home with men your own age, you rejected them and welcomed him into your bed instead. It made little sense that someone as young and beautiful as you would give someone like him all of your attention.
He’s lost count of how many times he’s told you that you’d be better off with somebody younger than him. It’s usually when he remembers your age or when you don’t know what he’s talking about when he brings up certain things from how life was before it all went to hell. He says the words out loud, practically a reflex at this point when the guilt gets to him, and as quickly as the feeling comes, it goes because, as he told you, he’s selfish; he doesn’t want you with someone else; he wants you all to himself. When you tell him there isn’t anyone you’d rather be with than him, it feeds something deep inside of him that won’t let you go, and hearing you say you love him has only made it stronger—you have his total devotion.
Ellie being sick messed up his head enough that in the moments when you came to mind, he was plagued with the thought that you probably found someone new. The only time he felt a modicum of peace was when you stopped by, and with that and how much his kid loved you being there, and in general, he came to the conclusion he couldn’t lose you:
It was time for him to tell Ellie.
Joel isn’t delusional; you’d grow tired of only getting his nights and the occasional day, eventually, and he needed to give you more of himself, which required his daughter to know about your relationship.
If Ellie knew, then he could give you more.
He’s ashamed of himself for hiding your relationship and, in turn, not having much to offer in terms of a future. It bothers him so much that he hasn’t been able to be with you out in the open because you deserve better than being his dirty little secret, as you call yourself.
He hates that.
He wants everyone to know you’re his and that he is yours.
When he realized he was going to tell Ellie, he started imagining how your relationship would change. You could finally have a life together, and it had him thinking about things he never would’ve considered before you and actively tried to prevent in the past, but you didn’t mind the idea of bringing a new life into the world, and he thought that might not be so bad; Jackson’s safe, and he has no doubt you’ll be a great mother—and it’s a future he’s pretty sure you want since your reactions have always been positive when he accidentally finishes inside you. That’s why tonight he decided to say fuck it and asked if he could; he wasn’t worried about the consequences anymore.
He’s kicking himself in the ass for not talking to Ellie sooner.
The only reason he hasn’t broached the subject with her is after what happened in Colorado, Joel’s treated her like she’s a fragile piece of glass that he doesn’t want to risk getting broken again—the way she lost her spark after that resort town killed him; and what happened at the hospital? If he had the chance, he’d murder every one of those Fireflies again for how fucked up she was when he told her their plans to kill her without knowing for sure if they could make a cure or not and that her life meant nothing to them.
It took a lot of time for him to put her back together again, and being in Jackson helped a lot with her making friends and having some semblance of normalcy. But he’s worried any major changes will mess her up, and add in her biggest fear of ending up alone, Joel dating seems like a recipe for disaster—Ellie will always be his top priority, even if it’s at the expense of his happiness.
It’s early morning, and he’s got another thirty minutes before the sun will begin its ascent on the horizon, fresh snow coating the ground, the temperature freezing. Joel is skulking home from your place to be there before Ellie wakes up.
His point of entry is the back door that leads into their kitchen, which doesn’t make as much noise as the front and can be locked when he leaves. He’s staying close to the side of the house, heading toward the backyard, and peeks around the corner to check the vicinity—his heart pounds when he sees a dark figure trying to get into the door, Joel pulling the knife, he walks around with, off of his belt, keeping his steps light, silently approaching them.
“Why the fuck don’t we have a light back here?” he hears them quietly mutter.
“Ellie?” Joel says at regular volume.
“Ahhh!” she screams, turning in his direction. Her hand is over her winter coat-covered chest. “Jesus Christ, Joel! Way to give me a fucking heart attack!”
He walks closer, sheathing his knife, as he says, “What the hell are you doin’ out here?”
“What the hell are you doing out here?”
His hands perch on his hips. “Doesn’t matter—you, on the other hand, just got over bein’ sick and shouldn’t be out in this cold. Move, I’m gettin’ your ass inside.”
She stepped aside, and he walked over, quickly unlocking and opening the door; he grabbed her by the shoulder and firmly guided her inside. He flicked on the room’s light once they were inside, and the door was closed and locked, Joel crossing his arms over his chest.
“Now, where the fuck have you been?” he asks.
She’s unzipping her coat. “Where the fuck have you been?”
“I asked you first.”
She shrugs off her jacket and tosses it onto the kitchen table. Joel sighs, walking over to pick it up—he’ll hang it alongside his by the front door before he goes up to his room.
“I was at the same place you were.”
He keeps his face neutral, but his heart is thudding, and he’s pretty fucking sure she wasn’t at your house.
He meets her eyes. “And that is?”
She smirks. “My secret girlfriend’s.”
“Goddammit.” His fingers press to his forehead as he closes his eyes. “You fuckin’ know—how the fuck do you know?”
“Let’s see, she’s literally the only person in town aside from me and Tommy’s family you like. You stare at her with, I don’t know what to call them, googly eyes? It’s that look the dudes have when they see the love of their life, or whatever, in those shitty romantic movies we like to make fun of. I’ve heard you call her ‘sweetheart’—” She fake gags, and Joel sighs. “—you’ve gone over to her house to fix so much shit that, at this point, it’s gotta be a whole new house. You sneak over there every fucking night. Oh, and when she sees the lady next door, the crazy one who’s got a real hard-on for you—gross by the way—when she sees ‘you can call me, Sandy,’ flirt with you—double-gross—I’m pretty sure she’s plotting murder; you’re definitely plotting murder when guys hit on your girlfriend—which, I don’t get why the two of you pretend like you aren’t together; is she embarrassed that you’re so fucking old and ugly, or something?” His teeth clench, and he glares at her. “God, don’t give me the murder eyes, Joel! I was kidding!” She playfully punches his arm. “Kind of… I mean, I’m happy you found someone who loves you even though you’re a grumpy asshole and look like that.” She points at his face.
“You done?”
“Telling you you’re old and ugly? Sure. For now. But I have one more thing that gave you guys away.”
His eyebrow lifts. “What is it?”
“When she came over the other day while I was sick as balls and hung out with me, you slept. Joel, you do not fucking sleep if there’s anyone else here besides me, which is why if I wanna have a sleepover with my friends, I have to go to their houses.”
“Were we really that obvious?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you knew?”
She’s clearly confused. “I thought we were avoiding the topic.”
“What topic?”
“Like, relationships—you never said anything to me, so I figured it was something we don’t talk about.”
He cringes. “I wasn’t sure how you’d feel…”
She smiles. “I don’t give a fuck if you date, Joel—if you’re happy, I’m happy.”
He matches her look. “I’m pretty fuckin’ happy. Are you happy with your uh, girlfriend? Have I met her?”
“Yeah,” she nods, grinning. “It’s Cat!”
His eyes round—he was under the impression Cat is her best friend, and he has met the other girl many times.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” he chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re way better at this secret girlfriend stuff than I am. I had no clue. I like Cat; she’s got all those neat tattoos.”
“She does!” she replies with a grin. “And I’m getting one!”
“You’re what?!”
Masterlist - One Shot
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#pedro pascal#joel miller#joel miller/reader#joel miller x reader#joel the last of us#joel miller smut#wheresarizona writes#joel miller x you#Joel miller/yo
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